#stole the dialogue for this from this is us thank you this is us i miss you this is us <3 might actually animate it at some point | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

artemis32 · 2 months

Text

Locksley

yandere Batfam x reader

yes, i do love them. yes, it is a problem. yes, i will make this my entire personality for the next two and a half months

also, necessary disclaimer, there’s a piece of dialogue in this that i took from a youtube asmr channel (bite me, they’re interesting and i’m starved of attention) - it’s jimち asmr, if you’re interested

word count - 4.8k

mbe masterlist

You wouldn’t call yourself a hero, not in any sense of the word. Likewise, you didn’t consider yourself a villain. You were something in between - you did bad things for good reasons, you did good things for bad reasons.

Living in Gotham changed people. No matter how kind or well-intentioned, everyone ended up corrupt sooner or later. Some just fell further from grace than others.

The people you helped would argue that you were a hero, someone who deserved recognition and respect for your actions. The people you stole from tended to disagree.

You didn’t care much about what you were. Heroes, villains… They were all the same in your eyes. They wrecked havoc and left people like you to deal with the aftermath - an ordinary citizen who had neither the means nor the aspirations to fix what they’d broken.

****

You started years ago, before you were even a teenager.

It was small things at first. Single fruits, a loaf of bread, a blanket, cough syrup. Things people wouldn’t usually notice.

You realised pretty soon that you were good at stealing, good at getting away without people noticing. Very good.

Stealing felt justified in your young mind. You told yourself that it was okay. It was okay because you weren’t stealing for yourself. Never for yourself. Never committing a crime for personal benefit.

No, you stole to help others. You did what you could to help those that were too weak or scared to help themselves.

In those early years, when you were still young and hopeful, you likened yourself to Robin Hood. Stealing from the rich to give to the poor.

Now, years later, the sentiment had faded.

You still stole from the rich. You still gave everything you stole to the poor.

Poverty in Gotham was a disease. The densely populated apartment blocks in the Narrows, where you lived, housed more people than it should have, and those people had become somewhat of a family to you. Or at least as close as you’d ever get. So you did what you could to keep them safe and alive. Stealing food to keep them fed, stealing clothes and blankets to keep them warm, stealing medicine to keep them healthy, stealing toys to keep the children hopeful.

That was your job, your purpose in life.

It made you feel as though you had a use. Seeing how people’s faces brightened, how happy they looked to see you when you bought a spare blanket or some extra food, or a toy a hopeful child had been eyeing for a while, it made you feel as though your life wasn’t completely meaningless.

Your life had a purpose. And that purpose was to help those who couldn’t help themselves.

So you did.

And you never got caught. Not once.

Until you did.

****

This uniform is so fucking uncomfortable. How do these people do this all day? You think, slipping your index finger beneath the buttoned collar of your shirt, tugging at it in a lacklustre attempt to catch a breath.

As much as recon was necessary, it was also an annoyance most of the time. It was times like these that you thanked the stars above that you weren’t born into a wealthy family. Stuffy galas and boring board meetings were never your thing.

The crowd of wealthy tycoons and aristocrats barely paid the waitstaff a second thought, primping and preening as they mingled amongst one another, trying to impress people who were too self centred to notice them.

You would’ve rolled your eyes and gagged at the sight, had it not acted as the perfect cover for you.

Stealing the name tag and uniform off of the service roster was simple enough, and sneaking in through the service entrance of the disgustingly lavish manor was a breeze. Now, as you flit through the crowd of supercilious pricks, you feel grateful for your own nondescript appearance.

Blending in with the average service worker was a blessing, one you took full advantage of as you scanned the large ballroom. There were several large windows, massive panes of glass bordered with ornately carved ebony wood frames. The doors were just as grand, two sets of double doors, and a smaller service door in the very corner of the room, all dark stained ebony to match the windows, were just as detailed and lavish.

It made you sick.

How could these people live so wastefully? How could they live so easily? Their biggest worry was keeping their faces youthful and their houses fancy. It didn’t make sense. Even now, after months, years of doing this, it still confused you - the fact that you lived such a jarringly different life, one that seemed so pathetic in comparison to the vapid crowd that surrounded you.

At the very least, it eased your conscience, and made your job easier. You felt no pity, no remorse for stealing from people like those gathered around you. Very few of them had actually worked for what they had in life. No, it was handed to them at birth. Life was funny like that. Those who work hard are left impoverished, and those who give in to gluttony and greed never have to work a day in their lives for what they have.

You discarded the now empty serving tray behind a potted plant, slipping out the large double doors and into the empty corridor beyond. The halls were silent and dark, moonlight casting large shadows over the walls.

The manor’s antiquated runner rug muffled the sound of your footsteps as you crept along the wall of the corridor, carefully taking note of each door, drawing up a mental map as you continued.

Every corner you turned was more extravagant than the last. You could practically feel the wealth seeping out of the walls. It disgusted you.

At least it was nice to look at.

Twenty minutes later, you’ve made it up to the East Wing, the furthest part of the manor from the ballroom. It seems to be the personal quarters of whoever the hell owns this abomination of a house. On the trek up several flights of stairs, you’d passed a collection of bedrooms, several smaller living rooms, and,to your great delight, a study. Though, ‘study’ feels like the wrong word to describe the room.

It looks more like a grotesque mix of a library and a maze, and if you were any more wet behind the ears, you might’ve been intimidated by the sheer size of it. In fact, if you’d stumbled upon a room like this a few years ago, you’d have been in awe. The value of a single item in this room would have you set for life.

But you don’t allow yourself to be caught up in the moment, keeping steely focus as you move silently, swiftly between towering shelves. You don’t take anything. Not yet. The time for that would come later. Right now, you focus instead on gathering information. The layout of the manor, alarms, sensors, residents.

The last part was always the hardest, especially with people like the elite of Gotham city. People came and went as they pleased, and the odds of you running into someone was higher in extravagant homes like this, what with their abundance of butlers and maids. But you’d avoided them all up to this point, never once encountering anyone in more than a decade of prowling.

And this manor - the famous Wayne residence - never housed more than a dozen people on any given night. You knew the staff and groundskeepers all went home in the evening, leaving the property all but abandoned at night.

You reach the end of the room, pausing only to glance over at the large grandfather clock nestled between two shelves before you turn on your heel and stride back towards the door. You’d gotten what you came for. Now, it was time to take your leave, full mental map in tow.

Getting out of the gala was a lot easier than getting in, and you took the time to register the smaller details of the manor. In this time, you confirmed one thing you knew for certain:

Wayne manor disgusted you in all its excessive wealth.

Bruce Wayne may have appeared as some kind of well meaning philanthropist or humanitarian, but you knew his pockets ran deep. Much of his wealth, generational and unearned, was hoarded while the rest of Gotham was left to rot in poverty.

It was, in part, the reason that you didn’t feel bad about what you were doing. He, alongside the rest of Gotham’s elite, had done nothing to earn what they had. You were just levelling out the playing field, giving those in the Narrows a fair chance at life.

And if you had to dirty your hands to help them, then so be it.

****

The thick carpet muffles your landing, though you don’t really need it.

Over the years, you’d mastered your movements, learning how to move silently, without notice. It’d been born from necessity, rather than genuine desire. Growing up in the Narrows wasn’t good for much, but at least you learnt pretty quickly that it was easier to get by if you went unnoticed.

You gently close the window, pushing the polished wooden frame with your fingertips, wincing at the soft click of the lock. Any noise was too much.

The corridors are empty as you silently sweep through the manor, as expected. You aim for the lavish library you’d scoped out a week prior, mental checklist ready.

Avoiding the cameras and alarms is easy enough, especially when the majority of them scoped the perimeter, rather than the interior. The lack of security, combined with the excessive luxury confirmed what you’d always thought.

Rich people were fucking dumb.

They really thought their money could protect them from everything. Well, there was one thing that no amount of money could save them from.

People like you. People with absolutely nothing to lose.

You had no family, no prized possessions, no desire or greed. And you sure as hell didn’t harbour any fear for people like them.

Eventually, you arrive in the East Wing, slowing your stride slightly. You strain your ears for any hint of movement, blending seamlessly into the shadows as you prowl the corridor. The ornately carved solid wood door opens with a silent swoosh, and you slip into the room a mere moment later.

Someone’s here.

You take note of it a moment too late, slipping between two towering shelves the instant you hear the soft murmurs of a conversation. The lighting is dim, shadows dancing across the room, sourced from the crackling fireplace at the back of the study.

Fuck.

It takes you a beat longer than usual to calm your now racing heart, and the instant you get it under control, you’re back to creeping along the shadows, hands darting out to grab at ornaments and books, shoving them silently into every pocket and gap in your suit and small backpack.

If you could, you’d have brought a bigger bag, but you needed to travel light - light enough to make a swift exit if needed.

You manage to grab quite a few things without nearing the source of conversation, which you’ve now determined to be two men murmuring lowly near the fireplace. Relief settles heavy in your bones as you creep back towards the door, thankful for the numerous shelves hiding you from view.

Lady Luck was a fickle being, and it seemed she’d decided your time was up.

When you’re about ten steps away from the exit, senses on high alert, time seems to slow, the baroque handle dropping slowly as the door is pushed open. You’re back in the shadows before it fully opens, back pressed against the wall while you weigh your options.

The door is out of the question. There’s no way to slip out without being noticed. The window, maybe?

One glance at the tightly latched windows across the room dash that idea immediately.

Panic swirls up your spine, threatening to take over. If you got caught here, there’s no telling what would happen to you.

As you scramble to come up with a plan, the door swings open and a man steps into the room. He’s young, fresh-faced, perhaps a year or two younger than you. He’s handsome too, in the way aristocrats often were - light eyes, tanned skin, full lips. He was striking.

And he turned to look right at you.

You’re up, on top of the nearest shelf seconds before his eyes slide towards you. You squeeze your eyes shut, sweat slicked palms pressed flat against the dusty wooden shelf underneath you.

Fuck.

He lingers for a moment, taking a step closer into the shadows, to the spot you’d stood in moments ago.

There’s no way he knew. He couldn’t.

After several tense, painful seconds, his brow twitches and he turns on his heel, striding over to the other two men, his gait confident and swift. You let out a soft sigh, relaxing only a bit as you try to stop the nervous tremors in your hands.

Escape comes hours later, near three in the morning, when all three men eventually retire to their rooms. You couldn’t get out of that eerie, shadowed manor fast enough.

****

“You really should lock your door at night, especially in this area. You never know when some creep might think about inviting themselves in. Windows too, for that matter - or else B&E’s would just be… Well, E’s.”

It was barely two in the morning. You’d crawled into bed, still fully clothed, less than an hour ago, exhausted from a long day of work in the hellscape that was hospitality. You hadn’t even had the energy to look over your next few potential hits, never mind take a shower or have dinner.

So it’s no surprise that you’re disoriented, thrown off guard when you wake up to a masked man leaning far too casually against your derelict old couch, slim katana resting comfortably in his hand while he twirls it around.

“Then again,” he continues, ignoring the wide eyed look you give him. You flinch back, the movement too slight to notice as he straightens and strides over to you. “You’ve made my job easier. So I should thank you.”

He stands, hovering over you, arms hanging casually at his sides beneath his cloak as he regards you. The mask he wears hides his eyes, and it feels as though you’re staring up into dark, never-ending pits rather than eyes.

“Hm. You look different than what I expected. Younger. How old are you?”

If you weren’t so terrified, you might’ve laughed. Here, in your cramped, dingy bedsit, stood someone who appeared more demon than man, and he was presumptuous enough to critique your appearance. Worse still is the fact that you might’ve answered him, had he not swiftly changed topics.

“It doesn’t matter. A criminal is a criminal. Blackgate has a cell with your name on it.”

The train rumbles by and shakes the thin walls of your apartment, casting an eerie half glow bright enough to just barely light up your apartment.

Your blood runs cold.

Robin.

You’re moving before he has time to register what’s happening, tossing your worn knit blanket at his head as you leap from your bed, the small single’s frame groaning beneath you at the abrupt movement. You’re across the room when he recovers, hand on the doorknob. Seconds later, a vaguely bird-shaped dagger embeds itself into the doorframe right beside your hand.

“Don’t move.”

For once, despite the alarm bells blaring in your head, you listen. You fight against your instincts and the burning in your limbs as he approaches, closer and closer with every taunting step until he’s right in front of you, another stupid bird-shaped dagger nicking the soft underside of your jaw.

“You’re coming with me. Peacefully.”

Your brow twitches in annoyance at his tone. It’s so condescending, as if he thinks he’s talking to a child. If this was anyone else, you might’ve fought back, but of the list of people you avoided, the Gotham vigilantes associated with Batman were top of the list.

They were so irritatingly self-righteous, and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that they’d view you as a scum of the earth criminal, should they ever catch you. It was part of the reason you’d avoided them so religiously, and you’d done a great job of it up until this point. The only question on your mind right now, though, was-

“How?”

Robin tilts his head, mouth flat. “How what?”

You lift your chin a bit more as he raises his dagger, softly piercing the skin, as if in a warning.

“How did you find me?”

If you could see his eyes, you were sure they’d hold an incredulous look, as if to ask ‘are you stupid?’. But you weren’t. Not like this. You weren’t sloppy. And you sure as hell didn’t step on toes when you stole, especially not enough to gain the attention of a run of the mill vigilante. There was no reason for him to be standing here, in your apartment, all but pinning you to the door.

“How did you find me?” you insist, pushing forward despite the slight sting against your jaw. “What did you see?”

He sets his jaw, tilting his head down as he speaks through clenched teeth.

“Stealing from Bruce Wayne of all people was a dumb move.”

Your blood chills in your veins.

So someone did see me then… That man. That boy. Fuck.

“It was especially dumb to stick around for four hours afterwards.”

At that moment, you weigh your options.

If you go with him peacefully, all but turn yourself in, Blackgate would be the least of your worries. You stole from Bruce Wayne.

Wronging such an influential man would have its own set of unique consequences, and it wasn’t yourself you were worried about. Anyone you’d helped in the process would be incriminated. All those innocent people, the women and children, the elderly people who lived around you…

No. You couldn’t go with him.

Prison was one thing. Endangering those you swore to help was another entirely.

With your mind made up, everything else is easy.

You grab the wrought iron coat rack beside the door and swing it upwards, aiming for his head without a second thought. The moment he releases you and shoves you back, you’re out the door, sprinting down several flights of stairs.

Too slow. Faster. Move faster.

You hear him behind you, footsteps ringing out like a death knell.

He wants you to hear him. You know he does. A vigilante like that, someone as skilled as him - you wouldn’t hear him unless he wanted you too.

Honestly, you were quite proud of yourself. You’d made it further than you’d expected. The uneven gravel stings against your bare feet as you sprint through the side alley, aiming for the main street.

It was pointless. You knew it was. Even if you could make it that far, it wouldn’t amount to anything. No one would help you. No one could help you.

Regardless, you still feel disappointed when he grabs you by the collar of your thin, old sleepshirt, yanking you back. The exit to the alley, a mere two metres away, seems to mock you.

In that moment, you think about what you’d done. You truly think, and realise that you didn’t regret a single thing. You didn’t care about what happened to you. Everything you’d taken had helped so many people, far more than it would have helped Bruce Wayne, gathering dust in his old study.

Everyone had been so happy, so relieved at how much you’d managed to help them. The amount you’d received for the stolen goods had been enough to care for everyone in your building ten times over.

So no, you didn’t regret your decision.

This time, Robin doesn’t waste any time with pleasantries, gripping the back of your neck tightly and knocking you out a moment later.

****

“Who is she?”

“Her name is-”

“I know what her damn name is. I mean, who is she?”

Tim pauses, eyeing Damian with a strange expression, clearing his throat and continuing after throwing a perplexed glance at Bruce.

“...well, uh, she lives in the Narrows, has for more than a decade. She went to Gotham public high school and received her high school diploma, with no further education. She’s… pretty unremarkable, to be honest. Works in a shitty diner in the East End, earns less than minimum wage...” he trails off for a moment and shrugs. “There’s not much else to say.”

Damian clenches his jaw, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

“Her address. What is it?”

Again, Tim throws Bruce a glance, sharper this time, choosing his words wisely.

“I… don’t think that’s necessary information. It’s not a big deal, she only took a few things. And it doesn’t seem like she kept any of it. Actually, I’m kind of impressed–”

He’s cut off in an instant, Damian’s glare sharp and filled with rage.

“It does matter. She stole from us. She–”

The green-eyed youth sucks in a sharp breath, dropping his arms to his side, flexing his hands.

“...she was right there. She was inside the manor, ten steps away from me, and I didn’t fucking notice. It took us two weeks to notice she’d been here at all!”

His words are like venom, belying the real reason he’s so worked up, and Bruce watches him with a blank expression, stepping forward after he’s calmed down slightly, placing a heavy palm on his shoulder.

“I understand your frustrations, but you can’t allow them to cloud your judgement. Don’t allow your emotions to rule your actions. While I agree we should find her, I don’t think we need to be as… extreme as you’re suggesting. She’s just a civilian - albeit a very… efficient one. Take some time, calm down, and we’ll discuss what to do from there, okay?”

Damian shrugs the hand off his shoulder, stalking out of the Batcave with a few short, clipped words thrown over his shoulder.

“Yes, Father. Of course.”

****

A very frazzled looking man is the first thing you see when you come to, temple aching terribly where the angered Robin had decked you hours earlier. Presently, the man hovering over you sighs when he sees your eyes open, though it doesn’t seem to be a sound of relief. His mouth tugs down at the corners, brows pinching together.

“Don’t.”

He presses a palm to your shoulder, keeping you flat on your back when you try to sit up. His tone is stern, flat, accentuated by the dark bags under his eyes. His shoulders sag and he loosens his hold, fingers flexing against your shoulder.

“Just… stay there. Don’t move.”

The words seem more like a plea than a demand, but you listen regardless. Even if you wanted to move, the pain rippling through your skull makes you too dizzy to sit up, let alone stand.

“...do you remember anything?” he murmurs, bright blue eyes roaming your face worriedly.

Licking your dry, cracked lips, you avoid his gaze. Would it be better to lie, you wonder? Would he know? You had a feeling he might. And you had a feeling that somehow, being honest just this once would help you a lot more than lying ever could.

You swallow thickly, glancing back at him before answering.

“Yes.”

He rolls his eyes, head lolling forward as he mutters.

“Fan-fucking-tastic.”

Before he can ask you another question, before you can say anything else, there’s a flurry of movement at the entrance to the room, several people storming in. The racket makes your head throb, and you feel faint and woozy as you lean back against the admittedly plump pillows.

You wonder distantly why you weren’t in a prison cell or a hospital. If you’d been in a better headspace and perhaps not concussed, you might’ve been concerned, but it was effort enough to focus on staying conscious at the moment.

“No, Damian! I have had enough! You explicitly went against my instructions– You kidnapped a civilian!”

Chancing a small peek at the arguing duo, you catch sight of little more than two blob-like shapes, the taller of the two yelling animatedly while the shorter stands stoically, staring off to the side, towards–

Towards you.

“She’s awake.”

That has the taller man falling silent for a moment. He sighs heavily, murmuring.

“We’ll discuss this later. For now, I have to deal with your mess.”

With that, he turns and strides over to you, placing his hand on the shoulder of the young man at your bedside, a silent dismissal. He remains standing while the other two leave, staring down at you expressionlessly.

Bruce Wayne.

Bruce fucking Wayne.

…I’m so dead.

You jolt up, wincing at the pounding in your head as you blurt out.

“Mr Wayne, I–”

He holds up a palm, silencing you.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

There’s a pause, one in which he looks down at you before sitting down with a sigh, massaging the bridge of his nose for a moment.

“I don’t care that you stole from me. Usually, I'd just file a police report and go about my day, but my son… Well, you upset him.”

He leans back in his seat, unbuttoning his blazer.

“You see, he’s a prideful boy. It’s never caused problems before, at least, not like this. I mean, involving a civilian, that is. But you seem to have struck a nerve. He’s holding quite a bit of animosity towards you.”

Bruce leans forward again, elbows resting on his thighs as he regards you with a critical eye.

“And I’ll admit, you caught me too, to a degree. You broke into my home without my notice. You were right under my nose.” He huffs a disbelieving laugh, as if the very idea of you evading him was impossible. “It’s impressive, I won’t deny it.”

A strange flutter fills your chest, something that feels oddly akin to pride. Bruce Wayne of all people was complimenting you. Or, at least, it felt like a compliment.

“Why is he so upset?”

You regret the question the instant it leaves your mouth. His gaze, which had been slowly warming up, turns cold and flat at that.

“...because you slipped right by him. Do you understand what a feat that is? How much you’ve wounded his pride? For you, an untrained young woman from the slums of Gotham to have fooled him, a trained assassin. Robin. You understand, don’t you? He took it as a very personal offence.”

You feel the blood drain from your face. Was this some kind of twisted punishment for stealing? Did this man, Bruce Wayne, really expect you to believe that his son, the sweetheart of Gotham’s high society, was the Robin? And an assassin to boot?

He huffs a silent laugh, brows raising as he regards the expression on your face.

“Yes, yes, I know. It’s shocking. Damian Wayne, Robin? You’ll get used to it.”

Your hands are shaking now, sweaty and white knuckled as you clutch the bedsheets, and you feel your blood pressure rising. If you weren’t careful, you’d pass out soon. Swallowing thickly, you ask the question urgently gnawing at the forefront of your mind.

“If he’s Robin, then…?”

A small smile tugs at his lips. He was handsome, in an older gentleman kind of way - tall, strong, sturdy build. Even the wrinkles and lines marring his face looked attractive. No wonder women fell over themselves in an attempt to catch his attention.

“Yes. You catch on quickly, don’t you? Well, that’s to be expected from Gotham’s own do-good Robin Hood, I suppose. Yes, I am Batman.”

A choked noise dies out in your chest.

Of course I’d steal from Batman. Of everyone in Gotham, this is who I choose? God, why is my luck so shitty?

His admission sows a seed of unease in the pit of your stomach, and your eyes dart around the room for the first time since you’d arrived. It was large, larger than what you were used to, though the only furniture was the bed, a vanity, and a small couch near the window. The window that was locked tight, covered with solid iron burglar bars. Bars you had the sinking feeling were put there to keep you in.

You turn to him, eyes wide and pleading.

“Why are you telling me all this?”

He stands, posture straight and assertive as he eyes you callously. “Because, unfortunately, your actions, and my son’s impulsive decision have both pushed me to make a decision I have no choice in. It means that, until we decide what to do with you, you won’t be allowed to leave–”

Evidently, his admittance to essentially abducting you is what sends your blood pressure through the roof. You pass out before he finishes his sentence, praying with the last of your fading consciousness that this was all some twisted nightmare.

#yandere #dark content #female reader #dc #batman #robin hood #yandere batfam x reader #x reader #damian wayne #bruce wayne #tim drake #batfam #robin #red robin #dc robin #robin hood reader #batfam x reader

588 notes · View notes

tarjapearce · 9 months

Note

Lips anon! Projecting a little bit of childhood tramua, but imagine a teacher complaining that Benji's hair is "messy." Aka too curly for her liking cuz some teachers be assholes like that. Miguel is offended, and Mama goes full rabid on her, calling her to a teacher's conference over some dumb shit like this lol

Mama tells Benji that his hair isn't messy and his teacher is a puta. He's just a handsome curly boy 💕

Not. With. My. Benji. >:(

(To y'all curly babes out there, including me, Our hair is gorgeous ok? we gorgeous ❤️❤️)

Benjamin fiddled with his fingers, chewed the inside of his cheek and stole little glances here and there to you and Miguel. He didn't know if he was in trouble.

He had to tell you that one of his teachers wanted to speak directly with you and Miguel as soon as possible. He was a first grader, maybe she wanted to talk about about something to improve Benjamin's weakness in certain areas.

Miguel had taken a day to attend the meeting, teacher came in and Benjamin recoiled even further next to you, almost hiding behind you. You frowned.

"Mr. and Mrs. O'Hara, thank you for coming today." She started with a polite smile, you followed.

"Benjamin told us that there was something you needed to discuss with us. Is Benjamin doing ok?" Miguel spoke, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh yes. You see, Benjamin is a good student. He has a bit of trouble speaking loudly when it's required to. He's still a bit shy, but overall, he's good."

"Right, so," You stared at her as she looked with squinted eyes at Benjamin.

"Is there any real issues that needs to be addressed? It's fine if he's a bit shy, it's a new grade for him. New classmates, new experiences, it's normal to feel a bit overwhelmed."

"Correct. Look, we have this... image code that applies to everyone and I believe that Benjamin isn't following it."

She spoke and you and Miguel blinked at her words. Confused at first but a bad feeling sunk into your gut.

"What's wrong with Benjamin dress code?" Miguel expression hardened when Benji's hand held onto his sleeve, like saying 'stop'.

"It's not about the dress code but more his, image."

"There is nothing wrong with my son, Mrs. Charles." Miguel's brow rose, his arms crossing on his chest as you spoke. He'd usually would try and calm you to then get a less heated approach, dialogue. But this time he just watched, not liking one bit where this was going.

"Maybe if you could cut or comb his hair a bit-"

Miguel rose and placed his hands on his waist. The hulking figure had startled the teacher. Good.

"You made me skip a day of work just for you to say my son has messy hair and you don't like it?" He almost hissed the last words.

You finally understood why Benjamin had been spending some time looking himself in the mirror the last past days.

"Do you understand Spanish, Mrs. Charles?"

"I do, ma'am. This is... just-"

"A mi hijo lo respeta, señora. Muy maestra puede ser usted, y aún así le queda grande el puesto, pero con mi hijo no se meta." ( My son is to be respected, ma'am. You can be a teacher all you want and still you're unworthy to be one, but you won't mess with my son.)

Miguel picked up a very distressed Benjamin and left. Your spanish had improved considerably thanks to Miguel.

"Mi hijo pasa un buen rato viéndose al espejo por culpa suya. Y no le voy a permitir que esté proyectando sus inseguridades en él. Si vuelvo a saber que usted o que alguno de sus compañeros lo molestan, voy a tomar cartas en el asunto. ¿Entendió?" (My son spends a good amount of time looking himself in the mirror because of you. I won't allow you to project your insecurities on him. If I know of this again from you or that his classmates are pestering him because of it, I'm taking hands in the matter. Got it?)

You left the classroom with a slam on the door, didn't even let the teacher speak.

"Vieja puta." (Fucking Bitch)

Miguel held Benjamin tighter, covering his ears at your cursing.

"Who the fuck she think she is?! Making us waste our time." Benjamin rubbed his eyes, his nose was getting red, his reaction only made your anger to boil.

"Benjamin, baby?"

He looked at you as Miguel put him down.

"I need you to listen to me, okay mi amor?"

He nodded as you wiped his tears.

"There is nothing wrong with your hair, okay? Your hair is beautiful. And many other kids would give anything to have it."

He hiccuped.

Miguel kneeled and slicked his hair softly.

"Don't listen to her, champ. Probably the lady is just jealous you have more hair than her"

Benjamin couldn't help but giggle.

"What do we say at home, baby?"

"I am kind"

"Aha, what else?"

"My voice matters"

"Of course it does, Mi amor" You hugged him and peppered his face in kisses earning more giggles from him.

"And you are beautiful, okay. From these lovely bouncy curls, from these speedy feet, okay?

He nodded.

"Wanna go for an ice cream?"

Miguel put him on his back, his little legs dangling on his neck as you all left.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #💋 anon #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #soccer family ⚽🕷️#wife reader #t writes✨#miguel o'hara fluff

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lightsoutletsgo · 29 days

Text

gotta go my own way — ln.4

pairing: lando norris x reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: angst to absolute crack and stupidity that makes no sense

request: Hi, can you do an angsty fic inspired by “I gotta go my own way” from HSM2. If can either be Charles or Lando or Charlando and they fuck up or something and reader leaves them? Maybe hurt/no comfort? It’s okay if you don’t want to

I fully thank @norrizzandpia for the hot mess that is the end of this fic. we couldn't stop cry laughing once we pictured the rest of the grid watching them sing the song and thus the end of the fic was born. (also credits to them bc I stole some of the dialogue lines they sent to my dm's!) happy reading! mimi 🤍 (I'm so so sorry if this isn't the request fill you were hoping for 😭)

taglist (all works): @arieslost - babe I'm so sorry I'm tagging you in this mess

“Y/N wait!!” You heard Lando call your name from the opposite side of the hotel courtyard and you turned to see him sprinting after you. You stopped and rested your suitcase next to you as he reached you, “Where are you going? Baby we can talk about this!” His hand reached for your arm and you stepped back with a sigh, “Lando… Listen…” He looked at you, pleading as he searched your face, “I guess I just need to say it straight right?” Your heart clenched, god knows this wasn’t easy, “Something about us just… doesn’t seem right these days…” You tried to speak as gently as possible, wanting Lando to understand you weren’t mad at him. “Neither one of us can help it, I know that, but it feels like whatever we try and do somehow the plan is always rearranged…” You trailed off, stepping back towards him and taking his hand gently. You didn’t look up at him, instead choosing to look at where his hand was now gently squeezing yours, his thumb rubbing back and forth in a soothing motion. Whether it was to soothe you or himself you weren’t sure but you took a deep breath to calm yourself.

He didn’t say a thing, just gave you the space to continue talking, “I knew what I signed up for when I started dating you and if I went back and did it all over again I wouldn’t change my mind. I guess I just didn’t expect that it would affect my life so much? My job, my friends, my family?” Your eyes flitted up to his and you noticed how there were tears now pricking the corner of his eyes. “So what are you saying?” Your bottom lip trembled as you shrugged apologetically, “I’ve got to move on and be who I am…” It was so silent that you hardly dared to breathe. “Lando I’ve tried, I really really have but… Losing my privacy? Losing my time with the other people I love? Sacrificing my job? I just-” Lando scoffed and took his hand away from you “But what about us? What about everything we’ve been through?” “Well what about trust and everything that I’ve given up for you?!” You couldn’t help the way you raised your voice, Lando flinched at your words, seeming to realise how blind he’d been about your struggles,

“You know I never wanted to hurt you…” You nodded and almost shrunk in on yourself, “I know…” Lando approached you slowly, not wanting to make you feel pressured or smothered, “I just need to know… Do you not love me anymore?” You let out a forced laugh as your eyes welled up with tears, “Do I not love you anymore? Lando I still love you so much that it’s killing me to do this but I know I have to-” “Why? If you still love me then why?!” “Because if I don’t leave you now then I’ll continue to give up everything else for you because I love you that damn much but maybe for a while I need to love myself!” You ranted, panting when you finished.

He inhaled sharply and you couldn’t help but let the tears fall as you spoke quietly, “I’m sorry- “Don’t apologise. You have nothing to be sorry for.” His voice was firm, “I have to go, my flight is in a couple of hours.” “I’ll miss you.” His voice was even softer, barely audible even though you were so close to him. “Who knows… maybe we’ll find our place in the world someday?” Lando gave a weak smile, “Yeah, maybe we will… Can I hug you? Just once more and then I swear, I’ll let you leave.” You nodded, unable to speak as you started crying harder.

Lando pulled you into his arms, as he too felt the tears start to fall, “I know you need to do this but it still really fucking hurts…” “I know Lando,” You pulled back to gently cup his face, “I gotta go my own way…” You smiled with a shrug. He pulled you closer to him and gently pressed a kiss to your forehead, your eyes closing as you inhaled deeply. “I’ll see you round?” “Yeah,” You grabbed the handle of your suitcase and started to walk towards the door, “I’ll see you around.” ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Alex sat on the balcony of his hotel room that overlooked the courtyard, enjoying the cool night air. The door opened and out stumbled Oscar and Logan, their eyes glassy from the alcohol they’d been drinking at the afterparty. Alex chuckled, “Steady on guys.” Logan gave him a hazy half-lidded smile, “I’m okay!” Alex snorted, “Sure you are.” He turned his attention back to his laptop where his movie was paused. “Oh look! There’s Lando and Y/N!” Alex followed where Oscar was pointing to see you dragging your suitcase and Lando running after you. “Oooo I missed them! Should I call them over? HEY LA- MMPH!” Logan’s shout was muffled by Alex darting to cover his mouth, “I think they’re fighting?” Oscar looked sad as Logan tapped Alex’s arm to release him, “Surely not? They’re the perfect couple?” Alex leaned over the balcony, thankful that it was quiet enough that they could hear some of the conversation.

“What’s up guys?” The door on the balcony of the room next door slid open and out stepped George and Charles, “Lando and Y/N are fighting?” “Lando and Y/N? There’s no way! They’ll work it out.” Charles said confidently shrugging. Oscar’s brows furrowed suddenly, “Are you guys hearing that music too?” George frowned and craned his ears, “Why does that sound like High School Musical?” “Alex, is your film playing?” Logan asked innocently, “You were watching High School Musical?” Oscar snickered, “NO!” “I don’t know if I should be more concerned that we’re hearing music coming from nowhere or that George knew what it was straight away…” George scoffed at Charles, “Excuse me but the second movie has the best songs.”

“Is no one else concerned that it’s coming from where Lando and Y/N are?” Oscar pointed out. “Oh God they’re singing.” Alex’s jaw dropped open, “Shut up they’re not?” “I promise you they are.” George and Charles paused for a moment to look at each other before scrambling out of George’s room and down the hallway to Alex’s. They burst into the room and pushed their way onto the balcony, squishing in between Oscar and Alex to lean over the railing. Charles slapped a hand over his mouth as he heard Lando sing the next line very loudly and out of tune, “Are they high?” George pondered out loud, “What exactly is going on?” “Well it can’t be a fight, there’s no way that’s a fight.” Logan spoke matter of factly, “Do you think they’re aware of what they’re doing?” Their expressions varied as you warbled out a somewhat high note,

“More than that, do you think they know we can hear them?” Logan’s hand came up to cover his ear, “Should we stop them?” Charles asked, “Nope!” “Absolutely not.” George and Alex spoke across each other as Oscar’s phone appeared out of nowhere in his hand and he held it up to start filming. “Are they okay?” Nobody answered Logan, instead just watching you and Lando, until they heard a cough from above them. Leaning back against the balcony and tipping their heads to look up they saw Carlos looking down at them, “That, my friends, is debatable. But it is entertaining, no?” Everyone’s attention turned back to the two of you as the song came to an end and you walked away from Lando, “Oh my god guys, I think that was actually them breaking up.” Logan stated as everyone stood there in shock. Nobody spoke for a moment until Carlos’ voice filtered down from the balcony above, “Also I’ve been out here the entire time and would like to let you know that Alex was actually watching Camp Rock.”

#mimi.writes #mimi.requests #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 angst #f1 crack #lando norris fic #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris one shot #lando norris angst #f1 oneshot

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puyopoyo · 24 days

Text

HEY GUYS I HAVE A SILLY HERE THEIR NAME’S IS GEAR CLONER AND HE CAN TURN TO LOOK LIKE OTHER PHIGHTERS!!!!

SHE’S SO SILLY I MADE THIS SILLY WITH @sun-ea-sports IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS JUST ASK :3

LISTS OF FACTS ABOUT GEAR CLONER :0 WITH THE HELP OF @sun-ea-sports AND @spiderwebd

Gear has become Windforce to get out of trouble with Banhammer,

Gear steals from Slingshot regularly,

Gear has lunch in Slingshot’s cafe and never pays,

Gear has stolen Rocket’s prostethics,

Gear livestreams their crimes (with the worst camera known to demonkind),

Gear is banned from every faction,

Gear has trolled Sword by turning into Venomshank,

Gear actively tries to be the worst version of himself every day (he just got too silly),

Gear lies about his age to get free meals (and just free stuff in general),

Gear is best friends with Noisemaker (they’re partners in crime),

Gear boasts about his crimes by pretending to be Valk or Dom and announcing his crimes to the world,

Gear got caught ONCE and bailed out by Noise and he refuses to ever speak abt it again,

Gear stole Traffic’s weed stock,

Gear stole Zuka’s truck,

Gear is aroace,

(More things to be added)

Dialogue:

Phinisher = “I choose you!”

Victory = “Guys I got a little too silly.”

“If you enjoyed, hit the like and subscribe button”

“Donate if you enjoyed!”

“Y’all are nothing on me”

Defeat = “Noise, edit that out”

“Don’t clip that!”

“That was not pogchamp.”

“Can we get an F in the chat”

Killed by him = “I’m better at being you than you are!!”

“You’re banned.”

“Get [phighter name]ed”

Opening lines = “Donate and I might spare you!”

Ban Hammer interaction:

BH = “Yeah ‘she’s’ an annoying criminal”

GC = “Jokes on you I use any pronouns!!”

Boombox interaction:

(Assist) GC = “Thanks Boombox next time I’ll credit you when I use your music!”

#phighting fanart #phighting!#phighting #phighting art #Phighting Gear Cloner

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mundivagantsoul · 7 months

Text

✩ Bookshopist Moonboys ✩

Part 2: "A, b, c, d-"

Moon Knight System x Reader

Summary: How the boys have been setting in at the shop

Warnings: Google translate Spanish, a bit angsty at the end with Marc’s self-doubt, coarse language, Marvel depiction of DID

Word Count: 1.4K

A/N: Gave the boys particular fonts so the dialogue isn't confusing. Hope you enjoy and thanks for reading :)

Steven

Marc

Jake

<- Previous | Masterlist | Next ->

-------------------- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ---------------------

Steven navigates through the labyrinth of bookshelves with a pile of novels in hand. Lightly caressing the spines of various books, his eyes skim over the authors’ last names.

Humming the familiar tune that’s become a staple in their shifts, Steven starts, “A, b, c, d-”

A heavy Chicago accent interrupts his rhythm, “M, z, i…”

Steven sighs, ‘not this again’, he thinks, trying to drown out his headmate he continues, “E, f, g-”

“Q, l, u…” abruptly interrupts his thoughts again.

“H-”

“Y”

“I-”

“T”

“Bollocks, Marc, quit it!”

“Quit what? I’m just reciting the alphabet like you”.

“A-huh, sure you’re being a real help”

“You’re very welcome”

“Look bruv, I need to put these away, and I can’t do it with you distracting me every two seconds”

“Should've thought about that before you ate my food”

“For the last time, I didn’t eat your food!”

“A-huh suree~ First, you stole my wife, and now my food? Your old pals at the British Museum would be proud”.

“Oh for the love of- I’m sorry about Layla!”

“Ahem..”, a frail voice interrupts their dispute, peering down Steven is met with the comforting face of an old woman, “Sorry to bother you luv, can you point me in the direction of the cooking section?”

Cheeks warming up, Steven points towards the aisle, “Just go strain down here and turn right at si-fi, then a left at parenting, and it should be on your left”.

She smiles kindly up at him, “Thanks honey”, then plotters along with a slight wobble in her step.

-------------------- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ---------------------

It’s been 3 months since they started the job, and Steven’s loving every minute of it. His presence is appreciated, and he’s surrounded by others who share similar interests. Plus, he doesn’t have an aggravating boss breathing down his neck every second, which is a bonus.

The shop has a decent history and mythology selection. Since the Thor incident in 2011 and the revelation that god exists, people have become more intrigued by mythology. There’s lots of debate amongst mythologists and historians, arguing if the term ‘mythology’ is even correct anymore. Steven remembers reading a post by The Daily Bugle, stating, "Thor is a glorified space alien, and gods don’t walk amongst us." Little did they know.

The aftermath of the past decade and the revelations it brought have given way to more accessibility to novels regarding gods and deities, something that Steven has taken full advantage of.

In his first month of employment, he had managed to procure almost all the Egyptology books in store. Marc and Jake are constantly nagging him about it, stating they don’t have the room nor income to accommodate the influx of novels. Steven’s still trying and failing to convince Marc to turn their storage unit into a personal library, receiving the same answer in return, “We’re not turning the storage unit into your book-hoarding man-cave. We got this job to earn money, not spend it all on your addiction”.

After noticing Steven had managed to clear through all the Egyptology books, you felt the need to enlighten him with some bookshop wisdom. “You know…”, You say whilst ringing up Steven’s latest purchases, “You can order more Egyptology novels from our supplier. We don’t always have enough room to keep them on hand, but I know there’s a few we can get posted in if you're interested?”.

At your words, his eyes light up and you swear stars were floating amongst his coffee eyes, “Really?!”

“Ahí van nuestros ahorros” Jake facepalms.

Surprisingly, Jake has found himself enjoying work at the quaint store. The tasks are relatively simple, mainly involving manual labour, finding books of customers, and putting through sales. At first, he’d been nervous about working at the shop. He was closing in on 40, and the only thing he’d ever served was vengeance and cunt.

Thankfully, everyone at the store was supportive and non-judgemental. You reminded him one shift, "Believe it or not Lockley, it's okay to be a beginner and make mistakes”. Plus having two supportive brothers and a cat that somehow knows whenever he's feeling down helped. On the topic of cats, Jake was delighted to know that he could bring Viejita into work. “Will be good to get you out of the house” he mumbled to the feline, “Can’t have you growing up socially awkward like your tío Steven”, “HEY!”

Similarly to Jake, Marc was surprised to discover the job wasn’t as tedious as he’d initially predicted. The atmosphere is calm, especially for a retail job, and requires little mental thought. It’s a welcomed change, especially as his employment no longer involves something trying to kill him - though some books in the backroom have had a few good whacks at it. Since they started, Marc's gotten back into reading comics and sci-fi, he’s however, trying to keep it a secret. Khonshu forbid Steven found out he’s hypocritically spending their income on books.

There’s an unspoken rule amongst employees that if a text perks your interest you’re able to ‘skim a few pages’ to further your knowledge of company merchandise. Obviously, this only applies if you do it without altering physical integrity. All of the boys take advantage of this, finding a quiet corner in the backroom during their break, huddling up with one of the cats whilst eating lunch and immersing themselves in a new story.

Over the last 3 months, all the boys have had some interesting interactions with customers. In the first week, Steven had a lady yell at him about the price of a plastic bag - as if he had any input on the pricing. Marc and Jake were plotting murder for the full duration of the interaction.

Marc had to awkwardly ask someone for ID because they wanted to buy ‘adult’ manga whilst their mum was present. He then had to explain to the mother why an ID was required.

And just the other day, Jake had a lady come in asking for a book, only she didn’t know the title, or the author, OR the contents. Only that another bookstore in the area had in four months ago. He spent the rest of his shift questioning humanity's intelligence and pondering how we’ve managed to survive this long.

However, at the end of the day, all the questionable customer interactions are worth it because they get to see you. Your presence is now an anchor in their lives. A lighthouse guiding them out of thunderstorms and eternal seas that threaten to swallow them whole. From your enthusiasm when discussing a book, to the adorable face you make when concentrating. Every second they spend with you they become more infatuated with your being.

“We should ask them out”

“And risk them saying no then having to work with them afterwards? Absolutely not”

“We don’t know that they’ll say no, piensa positivo hermano”

“Okay, I’m positive they’ll say no”

“...That’s a lame comeback and you know it”

“I’m with Jake - not on the comeback comment, but on the fact that we don’t know how they’ll answer”

“It doesn’t need to be a date, solo cafe y pasar el rato”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Marc sighs. Of course he wants to ask you out. Both Steven and Jake know that. He’s just worried you don’t reciprocate their feelings and only see them as friends. Or that he’ll somehow fuck it up for both you and his brothers. Maybe it would be better if he retreated back into the headspace, giving Steven and Jake the freedom to be with you without the burden of his pres-

Now it's Steven's turn to interrupt Marc. “Oi, we’re not havin’ any of that. We come as a package deal, remember? Burger, chips, drink ‘n’ everything. There’s no us without you, quite literally might I add.”

“Steven tiene razón, te respaldamos. Siempre.”

A small “meow” comes from his feet, looking down he’s met with the adoring eyes of Viejita.

“See even Viejita agree’s”

Mouth twitching up as his heart swells, Marc gives in.

“Fine... Just coffee”

-------------------- ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ---------------------

Tag list: @0-ramen-0 @sunnyskyapplepie

Leave a comment or send me a message if you want to be added :)

#steven grant #jake lockley #marc spector #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockely x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight #moonknight

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mcflymemes · 1 year

Text

GENERIC FANTASY PROMPTS * assorted dialogue for any fantasy setting

you are a descendent from an ancient royal line.

can you joust?

this is not a question of bravery.

are you too cowardly to take a life?

hand me my sword.

the sheets feel scratchy.

you could have got us killed!

if you had kept to the plan, those knights might be alive right now.

together, we have a chance to take back what is ours.

would you ride into town with me?

you're playing with fire.

you should be on the throne.

perhaps we never should have come.

did you bring your bow?

you take one more step, traitor, and i'll chew you to splinters.

are you fit to compete, or shall the forfeit stand?

thank you, my lord.

i will deal with you when this is over.

you have to go alone.

we have some work to do.

it's an ambush!

why are they all staring at us?

were you robbed?

clean your sword.

i must look for a suitor.

i know where your allegiance lies.

pick up your sword.

you're not going to kill me?

what do you propose we do, your majesty?

the path takes us through there.

i will probably die on this quest.

even the peasants can marry for love.

your people love you.

i just learned this spell. can i show you?

are you with me?

how many more must die for the throne?

why don't we discuss the matter later?

what are you wearing to the ball tonight?

do not shush me!

be careful on those roads. there's been a report of bandits.

i'm not worthy of the throne.

how do i know your promise will be kept?

take the sword to the tower.

is that your horse?

i hear there's going to be a royal ball.

it was said to be magic.

no one has ever taken that castle.

what a waste of brandy.

is there a way down?

do you hear talk of a dragon?

you knowingly endangered a member of the royal family.

on a horse, with a lance... you're unbeatable.

some day, i'll be a knight.

there's an army out there, and it's ready to follow you.

hold your tongue or lose it.

you're no longer a myth. you're starting to mean something.

admiring the castle again, i see. isn't it beautiful?

tonight, evil has met its match.

you make me feel like a poet.

i'll ride with you.

this kingdom is better off without the lot of you!

why were they trying to kill you?

no one ever comes back from the woods.

i think it's time we found out what's going on.

i will not lose.

how about a little target practice?

you were right to fear the woods.

choose your last words carefully!

the time for pleasantries is through.

run, and i will run with you.

they wanted to arrange my marriage.

will you dance with me?

i'm sure when i'm older, i'll understand.

you know what we have to do.

what do you think? now that you know what i am?

you speak of what you do not know.

my parents were peasants.

we have a long journey ahead of us.

we should have killed them when we had the chance.

you might find this land a more savage place than you remember.

do you even know how to use that thing?

you have to be of noble birth to compete!

i didn't want to be at the celebration.

i can do magic.

are those catapults?

do you know any spells?

i'm not supposed to be seen with people like you.

minotaurs? they're real?

try and take them then.

help me fetch my arrows.

i'm afraid i'm not worthy of you.

i hear you have a quest for me.

sit with me and drink.

that's a bit of a long story.

there is no way that i am fighting.

i challenge you to a duel.

i wonder who lived here.

maybe it's time you had this back.

you have a traitor in your midst.

meet me in the castle gardens tonight, after the sun sets.

the king sent me.

you stole from the castle?

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laladellakang · 11 months

Text

partners (1/2) ♡

masterlist | wattpad

DETAILS: bold dialogue: english members: ot7, (individual scenes) nrk, psh, lhs, yjw word count: 5.1k add. della in dark blood/bite me

SUMMARY: behind the scenes of dark blood [revamp] hehe revamp like vampires 1/2 + slight continuation of burgundy lipstick on jungwon's part

NOTES: hi! i'm so sorry for being away for so long! i have an explanation here if you wanna see what's been happening BUT NOWW i've come back for this new special birthday + anniversary month chapter! this is basically the partners chapter but revised + more scenes. i was gonna just combine it w part two but it was hecka long and i hate extremely long chapters. oh yea and della's dance in bite me includes a girlie now (but still has a man) please let me know what you think by sending asks/commenting. i look forward to them while writing and they really make my day <3

Della's hand injury at the start of 2023 has caused an obvious shift within Enhypen's dynamics. The fear of another relapse has caused the members to grow increasingly protective and wary of the girl, doing everything they can to get the love of their life back. Displaying it through their constant supervision when Della is in the kitchen, to being assured that she has taken her antidepressants, to an overall improvement in communication to ensure that her negative thoughts don't boil over.

Fortunately, the slump went away faster than they anxiously expected. Following the tour and her plastic surgery, Della had regained her usual self just in time for her birthday and their two-year anniversary. As their bond grows stronger by the day, the eight found themselves back in their honeymoon phase— practically inseperable.

Then the time came for a comeback.

It would have been ten months since their last one, and the group ready to go back into their busy routine with barely any rest but at least looked cute while doing it. They were excited for the change, and even more thrilled to find out that the concept would be something sexy. However, when they were briefed about the potential couple choreography, all seven boys froze collectively.

"We have to see how this goes. This is uncharted territory for us, so we're not sure if it's the best idea," the creative director explained. "BTS' Jimin incorporated mixed dancers, and the response was pretty good. However, 'Like Crazy' wasn't a full-on couple dance, so it might be different this time."

Jungwon, who was sitting to the left of Della, immediately held her hand under the desk, while the other six stole glances in her direction. Their minds were mostly occupied with how their girlfriend would react, as opposed to fully sinking in what such concept would entail for them.

"You'll hear the song in a bit, but since the key point is about a man doting on the woman who turned him into a vampire, we are going to have Della be the killing part," another director continued. "You'll have slightly different lyrics from the boys and you'll have an overall more seductive look."

"Thank you," Della bowed in her seat. "Is it altered to be more feminine?" she asked.

"No, no. You'll be singing from the girl's perspective. So if we look at the next page—" the sound of papers flipping echoed through the room. "Here, for Della's part in the teaser, we're gonna have you bite an actor— of course, not literally," the director's comment made a few people snicker. "—and turn him into a vampire. So, essentially, you'll be singing to two people: the woman who turned you and the man that you turned."

"Ahh, understood," Della nodded calmly. "Thank you," she said once again before caressing the back of Jungwon's tense hand. She glanced over at the others to find most of them looking at their sheet with a hard gaze. She could additionally see Jake playing with the corner of his and hear Jay's foot tapping on the floor.

"Thank you for the question, now back to the previous page—" another round of paper-flipping. "Now given that backstory, Della's partner in this comeback will be the only male—" the comment made Ni-ki choke on the coffee he was sipping. "Are you alright?"

"Ye– yeah! My– apo– apologies." he said in between coughs, turning his body away from the table while Sunoo patted his back.

"Like we said, we don't know how this is gonna turn out. We're sort of taking a gamble by doing this type of concept, but it's certainly going to be different and memorable."

The car ride home was tense. The members made an effort to conceal their emotions in the office, but in the privacy of the car, they saw no need to do so, and thus, they didn't. Though the discussion had to wait until they reached the dorm, as they needed all seven boys to be there. Della, who already knew the reason behind the tension, just calmly played with her phone and hummed to their upcoming title track.

"You really like the song, huh?" Jay commented as he entered the combination to their dorm. Since they had freshly heard it, all Della kept doing was humming the tune and repeating the words 'just come kiss me and bite me',which only heightened the tension among the three boys in her car. She could have chosen any other parts of the song and instead went for that specific line.

"It's one of my favorites of ours. It's so good," Della stopped her humming to reply with a grin. "We're ho—"

"Group meeting!" Jungwon immediately called out.

"As expected," Della muttered to herself. The four new arrivals swiftly put their shoes away and made headed to the living room, where the other four were already waiting. "Hello—"

"Lala, how are you feeling?" Jungwon wasted no time in asking. The question that all seven boys have been meaning to ask for the past two hours.

"I feel great," she replied with a soft smile, sitting on the couch armrest. "The song's great! The concept's great! I really can't wait for it."

"Is there... anything you dislike about the concept?" Sunghoon asked with a suspicious tone.

"Honestly..." the boys all looking at her with curious, yet almost eager eyes. "I think it's our best concept yet. It really represents Enhypen," her words made them collectively sigh in relief. "Were you expecting me to hate it?"

"No, it's just— like..." Sunoo struggled to find the words to explain the situation. "We were worried about the couple concept thing. The couple dance plus all the acting."

"Why were you worried about that?" Della furrowed her eyebrows. "Are you expecting me to be jealous?"

"No!" the seven said simultaneously in different tones. "We were just worried." Della couldn't help but scoff and giggle at her boyfriends.

"You guys have gotten so used to being a group that you often say things in unison," she covered the bottom half of her face, unable to contain her giggles. "So cute!"

"Wait— Lala, stay focused— are you seriously, seriously fine with everything?" Sunoo placed a hand on her knee to grab her attention.

"I'm totally cool! I don't mind you guys dancing with girls at all!" Della said with wide eyes and a genuine tone. "Guys, I used to train in YG— dancing or acting with the opposite sex is nothing! It's all professional," the mention of her old company itself suddenly provided the answer to their question.

"But the concept is quite sexy. We won't just be dancing next to each other, it's gonna be a couple dance with hand touching, at least," Jake explained.

"Honey, have you seen groups like Winner and BigBang? With Riki still being a baby, I doubt any of the parts will be suggestive— the worst thing they can do is have you hold onto the dancer's waist or something," she gave the Aussie a knowing look. "This is the art of dancing! We're exploring new stuff that fourth gen hasn't done before!" her eyes shone with every word she spoke, clearly showing her enthusiasm for the concept.

"I mean... on top of that, we don't love the idea too," Sunghoon spoke up, trying to be gentle. "We— or at least I wouldn't want to dance with another girl, let alone seeing you dance with another guy," Heeseung and Jay pointed to him in agreement while the others nod.

"Aww, darling, it's all professional, I promise!" Della made her way to the Sunghoon and released his crossed arms. "I'm only dancing with him for a little bit! Barely half a minute, I'm sure," she linked her arm with his and stared up at him with puppy eyes.

"It still ain't fun," he muttered, gulping down at the sight of her.

"Della, it's not that we don't trust you or anything," Heeseung sighed. "You have guy friends, for Christ's sake, we really do trust you! It's just... it's just..."

"It just fucking sucks," Jay bluntly completed for him. "—and we really don't wanna do this couple dance thing either. We know it's gonna hurt you."

"I'm not hurt, honest!" Della straightened her posture and widened her eyes. "I mean, we can always try to reason with the team if you guys are rea—" her idea was immediately cut by a string of 'no's.

"Forget about us, we'll be fine!" the other six wanted to smack their maknae on the head for lying. No, they will certainly not be fine. "But you! We don't want to hurt you or anything!" at least his other point was correct.

"I'm not hurt! Look, guys—" Della sighed, sitting down in betweenn Ni-Ki and Jay on the sofa and held their hands. "I'm not gonna lie, I might get a little jealous, but just a little! I'm not gonna be 'hurt', I swear! Just this conversation alone is enough to assure me that you all are seriously the best boyfriends in the world," she said with utmost sincerity. "I have nothing to worry about and— I know it's easier said than done but so should you. I'm completely obsessed with you guys! I don't want anyone else"

"Well, there are seven of us," Jungwon blurted out without thought. "I'm sorry!" his eyes instantly filled with regret while his hand went up to cover his mouth. "I didn't mean it like that. That sounds so wrong, I'm sor—"

"It's okay, darling. I'm not offended," Della got up from her seat and ruffled his hair. "Plus, you're absolutely right! I have seven boyfriends, I don't need any more! Especially when you're all so perfect." she placed a kiss on Jungwon's cheek before heading towards the kitchen. The seven boys all looked at each other in flabbergast.

"Are you absolutely, positively certain you're okay with the couple thing?!" Jay called out.

"Absolutely! I trust you guys! Best boyfriends ever, I tell you!"

The boys eyed each other as the same thought crossed their minds; one that they could never say aloud. "She gets jealous and upset over fan ships with idols we barely (or never) even talk to, yet she seems completely fine when we act with a girl for the screen?"

When the day came to finally learn the choreography, the boys were evidently really tense. They didn't even bother to conceal it in hopes that they might magically cancel the idea due to lack of chemistry. Little did they know that that is what the company prefers; for them to not 'stray from Engenes' hearts.'

The overall lesson came out smoothly, with everyone remaining professional and focused at the task at hand. Yet that was also because Della had not even touched her male dance partner. That part would only come towards the end of the song, on the second chorus, as Della dances with a girl on the first half. It was easy for the boys to cast their jealousy aside, but it certainly wasn't when the man finally came along.

"Della, your partner, Ingyu, as you know," the choreographer introduced the two out of formality. "Ingyu, Della," both Della and Ingyu politely bowed, despite already knowing each other from earlier. "Do you think you can do the moves from memory?" the choreographer grinned at the girl.

"Maybe...? Hopefully?" Della nervously grinned back, causing both the choreographer and Ingyu to chuckle.

Everyone had practiced and (essentially) mastered the chorus dance, but Della needed to be taken aside to learn the part switch she has with her male partner. It was an entirely new set for her, whereas several of the members just had to change partners.

This also provided an opportunity for them to fully observe their girlfriend dancing with another man. How lucky were they to have their full attention on the session they dread the most.

"Let's see what you've got," the choreographer stepped back to observe. "Five, six, seven, eight— it's you and me in this world..." Della did a great job mirroring the moves. Although some details in her leg movements were missing, her upper body ones were practically all correct.

"Damn, we just had to have a break while they are doing their part," Jay mumbled to his fellow members. "If it had happened earlier, we would have had something to focus on. But now it's right up on our faces."

"They have great chemistry, don't they?" Heeseung scoffed with a sardonic smile. Their eyes followed as the choreographer instructed Della on how much she needed to bend, having her hold onto Ingyu for support. "Wow, such amazing chemistry," he sarcastically remarked.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I asked her about the chemistry between my partner and I?" Sunoo asked Heeseung, who replied with a shake of his head. "I asked her how she would feel if I had good dance chemistry with my partner, and she just said, 'That's great! You should switch partners if the dance chemistry isn't there.' Like, what the fuck?"

"Ahh, you mentioned that to me," Jungwon reminded him. "Della really isn't jealous—she even encouraged Sunoo-hyung to make eye contact," he pointed at Sunoo.

"Really?!" Jake's eyes widened. "Even in front of the cameras?!"

"Uh!" Jungwon and Sunoo nodded with wide eyes. "I think as long as everything remains professional, she's completely fine."

"Well can someone tell her that we're not completely fine?" Sunghoon really tried to not glare at the couple but it wasn't like he was the only one.

It took around fifteen minutes for Della to get all the moves down. While it wasn't long by any means, the boys felt like the session ran through a hour. Instead of making the most out of their break, they were using up their energy on the glares that they sent the couple's way.

Both the choreographer and Ingyu (and certainly Della) could feel the potential holes that were burning through the male dancer's skin, yet they decide to brush it off since it doesn't appear to affect Della's performance. They always knew that the Enha boys had a crush on the girl anyway.

The keyword was professional, and as long as everyone remains that then all should be well.

"Are you finish?" Sunghoon asked Della as she finally made her way over for her break.

"Yup," she gave a thumbs up. "Thankfully, it wasn't difficult."

While they were all feeling jealous, they knew that Della had done everything they asked of her and there was wasn't much she could do. So they resorted to the only outlet available for them to express their emotions; teasing and poking fun at her.

"Was it fun?" Sunoo playfully glared at her with a pout.

"Aish, it's all professional," she playfully pushed him.

"So it was fun?" Sunoo pestered further, causing Della to scoff and mutter a "no it wasn't."

"'It's all professional,' but you were fully leaning on his chest?" Jungwon teased as well.

"It was no different from you!" she protested with a point to him. "—with all of you! We maintained our distance and everything."

"Our distance was like this—" Jake opened his arms wide in exaggeration. "While your distance was like this," he demonstrated by getting very close to Jay.

"No, it wasn't!" Della stomped her feet repeatedly. "You guys are exaggerating!"

"In that case, show us how it was," Ni-ki stood up from the floor and got closer to Della. "Demonstrate with me," he smirked.

"Eyy!" the members teased, impressed by their maknae's smooth flirting. "Go on! Show us!"

"Aish, you seven," Della complained with a roll to her eyes but complied anyway. "It's you and me in this world..." she sang monotonously and lazily repeated the moves that she just learned.

"Wah! Look at the large gap when it's with me!" Ni-ki protested to his hyungs. "Wah... seriously..." he pinched his nose bridge and shook his head.

"What the—" Della's confusion was immediately cut off by the members simultaneously jestering her. Choruses of "wah Della!", "how could you do that?!" "with our maknae too!" and "can't believe you play favourites," ran through the circle, making whoever else in the room glance at them with an amused expression.

"What are you talking about?!"

"Riki, riki, what do you think of this? So everyone disappears out of the frame except for you," Della explained her vision, using her hands to mimic curtains opening. "All eyes are on you and then Sunghoon-oppa emerges!" her hand then dramatically raised as if she was Thanos. "Brave heart— pam, pam, pam!" she said Ni-ki's line while popping her chest. "Then you and Sunghoon-oppa couple dance on his part!" the pen in her hand dropped as if it was a microphone and she had just said something life changing.

"Couple dance?" Ni-ki raised an eyebrow. The two dancers were ecstatic when the choreographer had asked them to take part in the process. They have wanted this for so long and were finally given the responsibility of the pre-chorus and second verse. The pre-chorus practically screams Ni-ki's name so it was a no-brainer for the maknae to take the former.

They were experimenting together but didn't interfere with each other's section, simply situated in an empty practice room with snacks and their phones playing the recently recorded song. It almost reminded them of the time when they had their first kiss.

"Not literally, but like... a pair dance, y'know? Something like Given-Taken," Della grinned. "Then Heeseung-oppa emerges! Then I emerge! Then everyone gathers and emerges—"

"What is with you and people emerging?" Ni-ki laughed. He was feeling a little too happy to have his girlfriend all to himself whilst doing the activity they love the most (especially since said activity was recently ruined by the couple dance). It was evident in his clinginess and the shine in his eyes.

"It's the drama! The vampire! The darkness!" the younger could only laugh more, letting his head drop on his girlfriend's lap.

"I'm sure you know what suits the mood, and I think the emergence thing sounds great," Ni-ki can't help but hum when Della's fingers tangled themselves in his hair. "I'm doing something like this; come here and get some—" with his eyes still closed and basking in the soothing sensation, he brought his hands up to form the first part of his original dance. "Something with a cool vibe, y'know?"

「大好き」 Della smiled softly. 「まじ力のスタイル」 she got close to his face to place a sideways kiss on his lips. [daisuki: i love it, maji riki no sutairu: it's seriously riki's style]

「ありがとう」Ni-ki muttered out before closing the gap to deepen the kiss. [arigatou: thanks]

Della and her boyfriends wouldn't call herself a jealous person. However, what she definitely is, is an anxiety-filled, insecure person. Otherwise known as a jealous person.

But she's not envious! She simply overthinks that some girls just suit the boys better than her and that they deserve better. While she's not jealous of the boys acting with Park Jiwon for the trailer, she had to admit that she was a little nervous before the shoot.

'What if they look great together? Especially Sunghoon since he has a lot of scenes with her,' she recognises that she's overthinking it but she really can't prevent herself from doing so.

'Sunghoon and one of your close friends look great together, but they don't give off couple vibes,' she reminded herself. 'You look great with them too, Lala. Give yourself some credit, you bad bitch.'

With the help of her self-pep talk (and antidepressants), her nervousness subdued quick. It also didn't take long for it to completely wash away, resulting from Jiwon being a massive shipper of Enha as a group. It was evident in how she giggled to herself whenever Della and the boys did anything close to being couple-like.

Furthermore, she had caught Jiwon pouting to her manager, questioning; "Is that all we're getting? Della being disappointed in Sunghoon and they don't even hug?" or along those lines.

Needless to say, there was no reason for Della to feel jealous, and that almost annoyed Mister Park Sunghoon himself.

"You're seriously, seriously not jealous?" Sunghoon asked when they had a moment to themselves on set.

"No? Why would I be?" Della said with a borderline sassy tone. The boys have been walking around eggshells with Jiwon and have constantly asked the same questions to Della. A rotation between "are you sure?" "is it really okay?" "aren't you jealous?" and "are you feeling okay?" Although she appreciates the gesture and thinks it's incredibly sweet of them, she has gotten tired of saying the same things over and over again.

"Not even the slightest? Babe, the storyline literally includes me defending her more than yo—"

"And what are you gonna do if I said that I was?" she cut him off, moving closer to him with a low voice.

"I– I mean," he stuttered at the look on her face and sudden close proximity. Even after two years, there are still moments when he finds Della intimidating. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay—"

"And what are you gonna do if I said that I wasn't?" she practically repeated. "You want me to congratulate you?" an eyebrow was raised to challenge him further.

"No! That's not what I meant!" his eyes widened in panic. "I– I was just– a little—" he did have an reason, but the addition of Della's hand pushing his bangs to the side had distracted him from whatever it was he was trying to say.

"Why don't you relay this to the others as well, hm?" she then brushed her fingers on his cheekbones. "I am rarely ever jealous because, at the end of the day, when you act out those scenes or record our songs, I'm the one who's on your mind. You don't think of Jiwon, your dancers, or even Sooha or Engenes. You think of me," she lets out a smirk when he appeared to be in a daze.

"The lyrics that you sing in your songs? Those are all for me."

"I get to have a couple dance with you?!" Heeseung exclaimed when Della broke the news. "Sweet! Nice!"

She really couldn't help it. She just had to reveal to the guy that she sneaked in a tiny pair dance for the two of them. It wasn't much in her eyes but it's more than enough for Heeseung.

"You have to show me! Please!" Heeseung got up from his bed, ready to replicate whatever it was that Della came up with. "It's definitely gonna be the choreo, right?! Like they won't ask you to change it or anything?" Della couldn't help but chuckle at how adorable the older was. His eyes sparkled with eager and hope, incredibly ready to perform his girlfriend's arrangement in pride.

"Nope. Absolute free to do whatever I want," she grinned before standing up as well. "All you do is kneel..." she kneeled on the floor to demonstrate, with Heeseung following suit. "Then rise... walk... then this," what he had to do wasn't difficult at all, so he would definitely still be able to sing live. "That's it."

"And yours?" Della smiled and made her way behind him. It was a tight fit, but the two can definitely make it work with how simple the moves are.

"Go ahead."

"'Come to me, make it right,'" Heeseung could feel himself get even more excited when Della placed her hand under his chin. "'Please connect me again,' woah!" his eyes widened at her hands running down his arms.

"'Devour you,'" Della whispered, leaving goosebumps on his skin. Her face got close to his neck while her right hand mimicked a claw on his shoulder blade. Knowing Heeseung, this move should drive him insane.

"No fricking way," within a flash, Della was back onto the bed with Heeseung lips on the side of her neck. "Gosh, I love this vampire concept."

"Gosh, I hate this vampire concept," Heeseung rumbled under his breath.

"It was all fun and games until we realise what a vampire concept entails," Jake mumbled with crossed arms.

"Yeah, and it's whatever this shit is," Jay huffed, openly glaring at the unfolding scene without a care.

Della was in the midst of filming the scene where she wakes up and bites a passerby. For budget conveniences (since his face wouldn't be visible anyway), the actor was none other than her male backup dancer, Ingyu.

It seems that, although she had made her lack of jealousy clear, her reasons did not resonate with her men. Even when they implement her advice, they still felt that red, hot jealousy.

"If his face ain't even on the video, then can't one of us do it? Seriously..." Sunoo rolled his eyes to avoid looking at Della leaning into Ingyu's neck.

"I know right?" Jungwon and Jay briefly replied, shifting their eyes to the monitor and giving them a closer look at the scene.

"Oh my God!" the boys (with the exception of Sunoo, who was still avoiding the performance), held a shocked look when Della's pretend bite appeared very realistic.

The segment is definitely different from that of Jay's and Sunghoon's. With Della being the one to initiate the bite, the focus is on her face instead of the partner's. The audience could see her laziness-laced body with eyes holding a convincing hunger to them, making it look like she was an actual starved vampire. She looks incredibly alluring, all while looking at another man.

"Oh great, she's amazing at acting too," after a quick glance back, Sunoo let out another eye roll. "Does she always have to give it her all? She should've half assed it," he spat out.

"Sunoo-ya," Heeseung and Jungwon laughed while the other four snorted with grins on their faces.

"You're gonna get us in trouble with that language," Jay chuckled.

"I wasn't screaming it or anything— I'm just saying what you all are thinking," Sunoo shrugged innocently. "You three are way louder than me without even saying anything" he gestured to Heeseung, Jay and Jungwon, additionally giving them a pointed look. The others know they can't disagree, as the trio really placed their heart on their sleeves this time.

"I don't fucking get it. Any one of us could really act this scene, I swear," Jungwon huffed out with a sarcastic smile. He placed his hands in his pockets, turning his body around to avoid looking any further. "Seven boys and they went with someone else for fucking budget reasons when they don't need to pay us fuck all for that scene alone. It's like they're doing this on purpose just so his name is on the fucking credits and Engenes won't ship us or—"

"Woah, woah!" Heeseung and Jake cut him off from his tangent. Jay and Sunoo's eyes simply widened while Ni-ki and Sunghoon held him back as if he was going to fight.

"You need to have a talk with Della or something," Sunghoon pat his left shoulder in attempt to calm him down. On his right, the youngest did a similar gesture by massaging the tense area.

"Or your therapist..."

"A little birdie told me you need to let things out," fortunately, since Della's part was the last shoot of the day, Jungwon's sour mood did not interfere with their work. It also gave them the opportunity to talk in the fully private hotel room.

Jungwon only scoffed out, keeping his arms crossed as he sat on the bed. The man himself doesn't fully understand why he was so upset. The other boys had quickly calmed themselves— unbeknownst to him, it was because they saw how angry their leader was, yet he remained with a scowl for majority of the time.

"Who?" he avoided eye contact when he muttered, afraid to raise his voice at the girl.

"It doesn't even matter because I can tell with my eyes closed," Della mirrored his body language but remained standing before him and leaning on the desk behind her. She has always been nervous whenever any one of the boys are mad at her, but Jungwon is probably the most intimidating. His leader energy is incredible.

"I just don't understand why they need Ingyu to act when there are seven other men who can do it," he went straight to the point. "If his face isn't even showing then any one of us could've done it! Heck— even the director could use his own neck! They couldn't have one of us to do it?!" as he went on, his voice started to raise a little in passion.

Della only stood there with an occasional nod, listening to the tangent that the other members have already heard. He talked nonstop for a few minutes, leaving Della room to ponder through her words.

She noticed that he kept repeating points like 'any one of the members could do it,' 'the bite could've been even more realistic,' and 'why they would want you to imitate a bite on another man.' It all finally clicked to her when Jungwon said, "They scrapped the kiss mark for the jacket shoot and now this? They're definitely keeping us apart on purpose."

"Jungwonie?" she grinned mischievously, to which he stopped and replied with a hum. "You're so cute," she didn't give him much time to react, as she had already hovered above him to connect their lips.

"Wait, Lala—" the younger was certainly not complaining, but he wished that Della would say a bit more than that, especially after he went on and on.

"You want more neck kisses, don't you?" she grinned once again. "You felt special during the jacket shoot and want that again, right? And you're jealous because the concept was scrapped for you yet another man got it. Am I right?"

Jungwon blinked slowly, taking in the observation that the mind reader had made. He didn't even know that he was feeling that way but it all makes sense. His emotions weren't even specifically directed to Ingyu; it's towards a man who wasn't him. He would feel the same if the team had chosen any other member.

A rare occurrence for Jungwon, but definitely not impossible. As much as he loves his best friends and the relationship, he did originally want Della all to himself.

A giggle interrupted his train of thoughts, and when Della asked for a confirmation, all he could do was nod in embarrassment. She let out another giggle before closing the gap between them once again.

"Don't worry, Wonie. I'll give you a million neck kisses if that's what you want."

my writing style has evolved and i'm hating a lot of my old works so i'm going to edit + tweak them soon but i'm still keeping the old ones on wattpad just in case they're someone's comfort fics <3 n e ways i hope you enjoy because i hope my writing style has progressed instead of regressed

part two coming soon

taglist! @afiaaaa19 @riikiblr @one16core @i90snoo @danyxthirstae01 @seulgifted @clar-iii @nichmeddar @jiwlys @duolingofanaccount @nvmbheart [i have removed accs that i can't tag so please send me an ask/message to be in the tallest again]

#kang della #8th member of enhypen #enhypen 8th member #enhypen ff #enhypen reactions #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x oc #enhypen added member #enhypen eigth member #enhypen female addition #enhypen female member #enhypen oc #kpop added member #kpop oc #enhypen female oc #enhypen imagines #enhypen poly fic #enhypen poly

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angelofthenight · 2 months

Text

Kenchanted Pt.4

(Ken x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: Mostly dialogue, Y/N is hinted at being depressed but it’s nothing triggering or significant

Word Count: 3.5k

Table of Contents

You rushed into the police station with a jog to your steps, your motivation being the man that hasn’t evacuated your mind even for a second ever since you sent him away. You were only home for about an hour before the police station had called you and Ken’s voice spoke over the line.

He excitedly explained to you where he was and how they told him he could get a phone call. The only phone number he knew was yours due to seeing it written on Julius’ desk. So that’s how you found yourself in the police department as they released Ken, who was now all decked out in stylish cowboy clothes, from the holding cell.

“Ken, what happened? You were gone for only an hour-” You spoke with big eyes as Ken ran towards you with a big, dopey grin strung up on his face. “(Y/n)! Great news! They’ve seen Barbie!” He cut you off with giddiness.

You put your hands up to slow him down, much more important questions existing that needed to be answered. “Ken, why are you in jail?” Said man shrugged. “Beats me.” Your eyes traveled up and down his form, taking in his new appearance from the cowboy boots all the way up to the matching hat. “Why did you change clothes? And why would you dress up as a cowboy?”

“Hey, I love fringe!” Ken defended, fastly shaking his shoulders to make the white fringe whip around. “I didn’t really feel like myself in the clothes you gave me so when I saw this in a store window I changed. But then the clerk started yelling at me and chasing me and then they arrested me.”

You blinked rapidly at the information. “You stole this?!” You cried out, gesturing towards his Western clothes. “I gave you money though!” “Oh that’s what it was for?” “Do you even still have it?”

Ken rocked on his heels, twiddling with his plastic fingers behind his back as he scrunched his lips. “…No.” You glared right at him with hands on your hips. “What did you spend it on?!” “I stepped on some picture on the ground by accident and some guy ran up yelling at me and telling me to pay him money for stepping on his picture so I gave it to him.” He explained with an innocent, naive shrug.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Oh my god, Ken.” You released yourself to take a deep breath. “Well, you fell for your first LA scam. Congratulations.” You said through a galled monotone. Ken couldn’t see through your sarcasm. “Thank you!” He chirped with a proud smile and composure, tipping his white cowboy hat to you.

Once you bailed Ken out, rather than taking him straight to your car, you took him for a little stroll around town to properly talk with him. “I’m sorry about everything I said earlier today. I’m just not used to falling off my everyday schedule. And my boss and I both have a lot of expectations from myself, so I’m not the most flexible person.” You told him, still not feeling that well with letting him go.

“I forgive you.” Ken quickly replied with an upbeat bounce, not sounding the least bit of upset with you. “But it would be nice if you did loosen up a bit. Just go with the flow.” He recommended, waving his arms out to express the last bit. You scoffed lightheartedly, “Yeah. Maybe I should just do what you would do. Throw myself into every opportunity to get in trouble.”

“Sometimes trouble can be fun!”

“Not if it gets you thrown in a holding cell and goes into your record.”

“But at least there I got to find out that Barbie is in the area! The policeman told me she got in for the same reason as me!”

“If they were telling the truth that is.”

You didn’t mean to be so negative, but you just didn’t want to get the poor guys hopes up. It’s a very realistic possibility that the cops were just humoring him and going along with his antics. This was just your way of desperately attempting to give Ken a needed reality check; knock the sanity back into him. As a natural pessimist, Ken’s optimist disposition felt like nails on a chalkboard to you. He was just so out of touch with reality while you had the tightest grip on it. He needed to understand that life was harsh and unforgiving, no place for such a person like him.

When you opened your mouth with the intent to give Ken a hurtful life lesson Ken halted his tracks when you were about to pass a cotton candy stand, the pink cloudy substance that swirled around the stick capturing his attention. You nearly tripped over your own ceasing feet when you almost walked ahead of him, rejoining to his side.

“Do you want some?” You asked him after noticing how enamored he was with the creation of it. Ken snapped his sparkling eyes over to you, nodding enthusiastically. You pulled out the needed bills and exchanged them for one big, pink fluffy cotton candy. The young worker held out the treat for Ken to happily take before you two continued to walk the westside beach town that led to the boardwalk.

Ken held it a few inches away from his mouth as he did his pretend bites with a cheery grin. You rolled your eyes at this, ‘Not this again’. “Ken, you’re supposed to pinch off a piece and put it in your mouth.” You said as you demonstrated it, nearly humming from the taste since it had been a while too long since you’ve had it.

Ken observed your example and looked back at the pink cotton ball with a sense of hesitant uncertainty. Though he did as you instructed and took a pinch out of the weightless spun sugar. He took a second to study it and hesitantly placed it on his tongue. He closed his lips and was about to chew like he did with the breakfast until he felt nothing but the tasty sand-like sugar on his newly grown taste buds.

His huge eyes whipped to you with shock. “It disappeared!” You let yourself softly laugh, an amused genuine smile spreading your lips. “That’s what cotton candy does.” Ken looked back to the fluffy sugar bush and took several pinch size bites, his eyes lighting up everytime the piece vanished in his mouth. “I didn't know that food could taste like this!” He said when he looked over to you with the happiest of looks.

The two of you continued your walk until you decided to spark up a more casual conversation to get to know Ken a little better. “So, what's the deal with this girlfriend of yours? How long have you two been together?” Ken sucked a sprinkle of the sugar off his thumb before he answered, “Well, we’re supposed to have been boyfrien-girlfrien for 62 years now but she doesn’t really treat us like that.”

Your eyebrows slowly scrunched together as questions began to swarm your mind. “Wait, why do you call yourselves a couple when she doesn’t see it that way?” “Because it’s supposed to be Barbie and Ken. It’s never just Ken.” He explained with that mindless grin of his. You gave him a look. “But most of the time it’s just Barbie though.”

Ken’s smile faltered when you said that, his bright blue orbs floating without direct attention while his mind drifted with distraction; lingering on your words. He shook himself out of his space-out to put back up a bright smile. “What about you? How long have you known your Rob?” He asked you before you told him it had been five years.

“Has he moved in with you yet? That’s my dream with Barbie.” You felt your muscles slightly tense upwards at the uncomfortable question that people always had to ask. “Um, no, he hasn’t.” You replied as you gnawed at the inside of your cheek. “I mean it’s in the plan but he wants to move in sooner rather than later when I think it should be later than sooner. There’s just a lot that needs to be done when moving in together, and don’t even get me started on billings and picking out a place.”

Ken raised his brows at your explanation. Never has he met someone so worked up about beyond tomorrow while Ken himself has never felt burdened by the knowledge of upcoming decisions and plans. “Wow, you think a lot about the future.” He breathed out.

“Well, I have to. Being planned, prepped and prepared is the key to stability, and I apply that to me and my boyfriend and our relationship.”

“You have such strange ideas about love and life.” Ken chuckled to himself which made you mockingly snicker back. “Forget ‘love’, it doesn't exist.”

Ken nearly tripped.

“How could you say that?!” He practically screamed in your ear, his expression deeply shocked and offended. “Of course it does!” You glared at his raised volume, glancing around to make sure no one in the public was looking in your direction. You stepped closer to Ken to talk in a hushed tone, trying to signal him to keep his voice down. “And how do you know?” You questioned with a condescending shadow over your voice.

“In Barbieland, I’m surrounded by lots of Barbie’s and Ken’s who are head over heels in love.” Ken proclaimed with an expressive nod as you resumed walking. “Are you in love with…” you steered off for a second as you realized he used the two names in plural, “your Barbie?”

“Well yeah…” Ken answered all too quickly yet his expression deflated as he glanced off momentarily, “but it’s not the real thing. At least not yet. True love is a two-way street, y’know.”

You gestured toward him. “Exactly my point.” You said. “True love is either always one sided or fake. Love is finite and never lasts.” Ken was visibly frowning at what you were saying as your point of view. “What about you and Rob? Don’t you love each other?” He asks like he was a child of divorce. You stopped in your tracks, Ken copying you to watch you struggle for words.

“It’s…” You bit your lip as you trailed off. You never liked trying to verbalize your feelings, you preferred keeping it all inside you in a place where you didn’t have to acknowledge or explain them. “Well I am attracted to him and I do like him in that way. But being ‘in love’ is kind of far of a stretch.” You sighed, rubbing your tired eye before reconnecting eye contact. “That's what I'm trying to tell you. It's complicated.”

Ken looked back and forth between your eyes, as if searching for some kind of explanation for your bleak way of thinking. He just didn’t understand you. “But it doesn't have to be though.” He argued, desperation clawing at his throat and frustrated tears threatening to border his orbs.

You shrugged with a melancholy frown. “That’s just how the world is, Ken. It’s messy and unclear, and it’s just plain cruel. That’s why we have to toughen ourselves up for it and nothing can ever seriously hurt us.” You spoke with a thick shroud of disapointment heavy in your voice; speaking purely out of the experience he seemed to lack.

You nearly snapped your own neck when you heard Ken mumble beneath his breath, “That’s not how the world in Barbieland works.”

“Well maybe it’s just a naive, ignorant world.” You growled back under your breath. You loathed how often he talked about this “Barbieland” and how flawless it sounded to be. It made you furious. You were beginning to theorize he was just in a cult on a remote, isolated landmass or island. It would explain all your questions about him and his homeland.

The world was black and white, wicked and dark. It was relentless with problems and it was a ‘survival of the mentally fittest’ built place. You had to raise and fend for yourself and once you blinked and found yourself all grown up, your view of the world had been molded by your own disappointment and anger. But now you refused to see the world any other way. Because then you would have to admit that you were wrong and that it was just your specific life that was like that. You were not wrong though. The world was- “Can I ask you something?” Ken’s sudden lively voice pulled you out of your dark cloud of stormy thoughts. “What.” You grumbled.

He gulped, staring at your grumpy expression as he began to feel a nervousness swell up within him to ask you, “Why don’t you smile?”

You blinked several times, bafflement softening up the scowl on your face you didn’t even realize was present. You glanced around timidly, awkwardly trying to decide on an answer. “I do. Just not every minute of the day, but I do smile.”

“But aren’t you happy?” Ken pressed on, making you more uncomfortable as you preferred to not talk about your emotions or the feelings that weren’t disappointment or anger or disgust. “I mean, I’m content.” You tried to explain but that seemed to further Ken’s confusion. “But not happy?”

Ken felt so… he didn’t even know a word that describes what he felt about it. He had never met someone who wasn’t quick to admit that they were happy, both with themselves or with their life. Every hour of the day in Barbieland, every Barbie and every Ken had the time of their plastic lives. Everything was perfect, aside from his relationship with Stereotypical Barbie. From the weather, to the food, to the activities, to the parties, to the clothes, to the community.

And you were just the… opposite of everyone he’s familiar with. Yet he didn’t exactly dislike that. Of course you were such a wet blanket though, but something as unfamiliar as you kind of gave him this sort of thrill. The kind of thrill he felt at the pit of his stomach when he was about to face the biggest plastic wave he’s ever seen, not really scared but not really excited.

“It’s another complicated thing, Ken. I like my life and I like my relationships. I wouldn’t say that I’m not happy, I do feel happiness a lot but it’s… it’s complicated.” You sighed out while tightly crossing your arms as if that would ease your discomfort. Ken made himself slowly nod despite not really understanding, mentally digesting your foreign predicament. He looked off into nothing particular as he tried to maintain a steady breath, your overall mentality nearly overwhelming him. “Everything sounds complicated with you.”

You shrugged at his observation, wondering if you really did overuse that specific word even if it was the perfect description for most things in your life. “Happiness just isn’t my top priority. And if it's just something you need to work for well then I have more important things in my life that I can put my energy into.”

“Like what?”

“Like my work.”

“And?”

“And housework and bills and…” you mentally screamed at yourself as your mind went blank, “and quite literally anything else.” You grumbled which left Ken the open opportunity to dig.

“Like dancing?” He pepped up, taking your ‘anything else’ very literally. You briefly nibbled on your lip. “Well no but-”

“Beaches?”

“No-”

“Concerts?”

“I don’t-”

He went on to list all the things he and other dolls personally enjoyed doing. “Baking? Theme parks? Camping?” His list was cut off with the exclamation at the notice of a certain A frame sign that caught his eye. “Disco parties!” He squeaked as he pointed at it, immediately jogging to it with you chasing after him.

“There’s going to be a Disco Party at the pier next week!” Ken read with a burst of joy overflowing him as he practically bounced on his heels with a gleeful giddiness spreading his lips into a wide smile while pointing at the sign like a kid pointing out a toy they want at the store to their mom.

You stood at his side to study the sign on your own, resisting the itching feeling to roll your eyes at the colorful public invitation with a big disco ball at the corner of it and 70s song references scattered across the words. “We should go!” Ken insisted with excitement bubbling through his composure.

Your lips held a small sour cringe. “I don’t dance.” You instantly shot down which made his energy deflate as he gave you a look of mortification. “What do you mean you don’t dance?!” “I just think it’s stupid.” You shrugged simply.

Ken squared his shoulders at you with his hands on his hips, his eyes blown open. “Have you even tried it?” He sharply questioned. A condescending smirk twitched the corner of your mouth as your eyes rolled. “I don’t have to swing and flail my body around myself to know that it looks ridiculous and embarrassing.” You said easily while you tightly crossed your arms in an uptight manner.

Ken blinked. “Em… bear… a-sing?” You raised a brow. “Yeah, embarrassing. You know that shameful, self-conscious feeling you get when you do something you’re uncomfortable with in front of others?”

He slightly spaced out as he thought over your explained definition, realizing that he has felt that negative feeling before. But he couldn’t apply that to something as refreshing as dancing. “…Oh! So you’re just too shy to dance?” He concluded with an accomplished smile and a pointer finger at you. You groaned under your breath and turned away from him to walk back the way you came with your tightly crossed arms. “I’m not shy, I just would prefer to keep my dignity.”

Ken watched you walk ahead of him for a moment. A strange warmness tickled the pit of his stomach as a mindless grin, birthed from that foreign sensation, settled into his lips. A little chuckle rang out through his throat and past his misty smile as his eyes remained on you before he jogged to catch up to you, rejoining you by your side.

That chuckle erupted again but lighter. “You know, I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re really weird.” You vaguely flinched at his comment before giving him a quick up and down glance. “You’re not so normal yourself.”

“But I actually kinda really like that you’re weird.” He added with a soft smile planted delicately on his lips. “It’s so different from what I’m used to.” Although the compliment was unflattering, you felt a sudden warm temperature expand throughout your chest. Identical to that toasty, cozy bodily reaction you get when you’re in a freezing cabin in the middle of winter and you just lit a flaming fireplace.

You told yourself it was just the California heat getting to you.

The corners of your mouth perked up gently without your consent as you admitted, “And even though your immature naivety can be so annoying it gives me a headache, it can be cute.” Ken’s smile broadened enough for his teeth to show, snapping his beaming eyes down at you. “You think I’m cute?”

You shot a glare up at him, trying to force your grin down into a frown but your upturned lips were too heavy to weigh down. “I never said that.” He shook his head up and down enthusiastically in an overly joyful manner. “You did though!” You let out a repressed laugh, it coming out too suddenly for you to try to hold it in. “Don’t think too much into it though. I still think a fish is cuter than you.”

“But still cute.”

“Just shut up, okay?”

You two walked in silence for a moment, a lighthearted and playful atmosphere circling around you until you felt Ken’s bright blue eyes lasering into you. You glanced up at him to catch his cheeky gaze and grin. “What?” You asked, your brows pinching together.

“I made you smile.” Ken pointed out, sounding very proud of himself while remembering how much you didn’t smile.

You abruptly felt the pulse of your heart pound one beat harder than the rest, not even realizing that you were in fact still smiling. You finally got the strength to drop your smile into your signature frown, practically a scowl. “Whatever. Let’s go home now.” You brushed off as you motioned the blond to follow you.

Ken slightly tilted his head, puzzlement teasing his expression. “You mean your home?” He asked, making sure you didn’t mean Barbieland which was his home. He couldn’t go home without Barbie.

You paused, internally stabbing yourself from the embarrassing mistake. “Yeah… my home.”

#reader insert #ken carson x reader #ken x reader #ken carson #kenergy #greta gerwig barbie #barbie 2023 #the barbie movie #barbie movie #barbie #greta gerwig #ryan gosling x reader #ryan gosling #enchanted movie #enchanted #I’m just Ken #fluff #disney enchanted

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swiftieblyth · 2 months

Text

Tangled start

warnings- long but cute

a/n- feel free to skip some of the dialogue, it’s mostly the Tangled script, just Tom and Y/N. Don’t worry, not the full movie

You and Tom were in the recording studio, it was the first day and you were going to do voiceovers and songs.

You were so excited to sing with Tom. Not just at home or karaoke. Tom didn’t give himself enough credit when it came to singing.

“Okay,” the director called from the other side of the glass with headphones on, knocking you out of your thoughts, as you and Tom stood up. “Okay, Tom how about you start with your opening monologue then we’ll go from there.”

“Cool.” Tom smiled, walking to the microphone, as you sat back down, ready to watch him.

“Ready when you are,” the sound guy said.

“This is the story of how I died,” Tom started in his American accent. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him. “Don’t worry, this is actually a very fun story. And the truth is, it’s not even mine. This is the story of a girl named Repunzal. And it starts, with the sun.

Now once upon a time, a single drop of sunlight fell from the heavens. And from this small drop of sun grew a magic, golden, flower. It had the ability to heal the sick, and injured. Oh, you see that old woman over there? You might want to remember her. She’s kind of important. Well, centuries passed and a hop skip and a boat ride away there grew a kingdom. The kingdom was ruled by a beloved king and queen. And the queen, well she was about to have a baby, and she got sick, really sick. She was running out of time. And that’s when people usually start looking for a medical. Or in this case, a magic golden flower. Ahh, I told you she’d be important. You see, instead of sharing the Sun’s gift, this women, Mother Gothel, hoarded its healing power and used it to keep herself young for hundreds of years. And all she had to do was sing a special song.

All right, you got the gist. She sings, she turns young. Creepy, right?

The magic of the golden flower heals the queen. A healthy baby girl, a princess was born,” Tom explained looking at you, which made you smile even more. “With beautiful golden hair. I’ll give you a hint. That’s Repunzal. To celebrate her birth, the King and Queen lunched a flying lantern into the sky. For that one moment, everything was perfect. And then, that moment ended.

Gothel broke into the castle and stole the child. And just like that…gone. The Kingdom searched and searched, but they could not find the princess. For deep within the forest, in a hidden tower, Gothle raised the child as her own.

Gothel had found her new magic flower. But this time she was determined to keep it hidden.

Butt the walls of that tower could not hide everything. Each year, on her birthday, the king and queen released thousands of lanterns into the sky in hope that one day, their lost princess would return.”

“Cut!”

“Tommy, that was amazing!” You smiled, getting up to walk to him.

“Thank you my love,” he smiled, kissing your cheek as you hugged him.

“It was so beautiful, my very own Flynn Rider.” You smiled, kissing his lips.

💜💜💜

“Okay, and now for the final monologue, Y/N, you’re in this too.”

“Okay,” you smiled, as you and Tom walked over to the mic.

“Well,” Tom started in his American accent. “You could imagine what happens next. The kingdom rejoiced. The lost princess had returned. The party lasted an entire week. And, honestly, I don’t remember much of it. Dreams came true all over the place. That guy went on to become the most famous concert pianist in the world. And that guy? Well he eventually found someone to love. As for this guy, well, I assume he’s happy. He’s never told me otherwise. Thanks to Maximus, crime in the kingdom disappeared almost over night. As did most of the apples. Pascal, never changed. At last Rapunzal was home, and she finally had a family. She was a Princess worth waiting for,” Tom smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist, making you smile. “But above all, she lead her kingdom with all the grace and wisdom that her parents did before her. And as for me, well. I started to go by Eugene again. Stopped thieving, basically turned it all around. But I know what the big question is; did Rapunzel and I ever get married? Well I’m please to tell you. After years, and years of asking, and asking, and asking. I finally said yes.”

“Eugene,” You let out, rolling your eyes.

“All right,” Tom cut in, tickling your rib. “I asked her.”

“And we’re living happily ever after,” you smiled, looking up at him, so see his baby blue eyes looking at you.

“Yes we are.” Tom said, leaning down to give you a kiss.

“And cut!” The director yelled. “Great job!”

You and Tom pulled away from each other and took to your headset. You opened the door and walked out and were met by Lady running up to you both.

Her little tail was wagging, and her tongue was out, as she jumped up on yours and Tom’s legs.

“Hi, darling,” Tom smiled, picking her up. Lady barked and licked his face.

“Hi, my sweet girl,” you smiled, kissing her, and rubbing your face against hers.

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kyberblade · 7 days

Text

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

Xxx

Two years later….

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Din nodded. “Almost. Just need the-”

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

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

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

You smirked. “I see.”

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

“How did you not get an alert?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Din finally muttered in disbelief, “Cara?”

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

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

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

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

The girl shrunk under the stare of three adults.

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

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

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

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

Sola tried a grin. “Whoops?”

The Marshal lifted the look to Din.

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

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

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

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

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

“And my comlink?” Cara tried.

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

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

You stepped between them. “Cara.”

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

“No.”

“She stole-”

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

“You’re one to talk,” Cara grumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It is no-”

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

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

“Later.”

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

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

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down, kid!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who?”

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

“And one job turned into more….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So are you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The young girl rolled her eyes at you.

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

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

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No one dies.”

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

“Even if we run into a Jawa.”

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

“Later.”

Xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you don’t stop talking-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For being so wrong all the time!”

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

“How about you speak silence.”

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

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

“You don’t scare me,” Cara scoffed.

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

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

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

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No!”

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll buy you another one.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Including the knife?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The kid scoffed again.

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

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

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

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

“Turning off my vambraces now, huh?”

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

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

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

Xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where’s my mudhorn?” Cara groused.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not so little anymore.”

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

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

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

“What…. What does that mean?”

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

Xxx

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

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

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

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

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

Din nodded once. “You got it.”

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

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

Xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think that means I win, Mandalorian.”

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

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

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

“Din-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her very, very, very distraught face.

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

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

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

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

“We don’t murder innocent droids.”

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

“They are until proven guilty.”

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

“You have nothing.”

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

“No.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peli gestured wildly to the sparking Crest behind her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who says I don’t want some?”

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

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

“Cantina!” Peli hissed.

You’d never seen Din move so quickly.

Xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The head tilt.

The finger.

“Later.”

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

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

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

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

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

“No, why hasn’t it moved?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He nodded before going to join the others.

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

“No.”

“You didn’t let me-”

“No, Peli.”

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

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

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

Xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A questioning bloop.

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

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

“I do speak Binary. Very observant.”

A raspberry.

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

“Can we start over?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Xxx

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A jetpack.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And some things change all the time….”

“Well that was cryptic.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me, what?”

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

“Well I just assumed….”

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

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

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

You grinned. “No.”

Xxx

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

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

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

Din grunted. “That’s not how I work.”

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

Both Din and the courier looked at you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No.

No it couldn’t be.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Name: Eesra Kesyk

Last known location: Tatooine

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

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

Your gut sank.

Unless….

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

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

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

“Are they serious?”

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

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

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

“Who knew I married such a horrible person?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They got my name wrong, though.”

“Did they?”

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

He groaned softly. “I-”

Bleep!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were home, with the people you loved.

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

Well, almost everyone.

You were a clan of three.

No, it was more than that.

You were also a family.

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

Someday soon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Half, but still plenty bright to see.

“Din?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Before you left to find more Mandalorians.

More Mandalorians.

Now that was going to be interesting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He went stiff. “We?”

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

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

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

“And then how do we get back?”

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

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

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

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

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

Now you had an unobstructed view….

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

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

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

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

….And a smile that took your breath away.

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

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

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

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

Our people.

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

Our people.

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

Mine.

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

Xxx

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

Xxx

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