#GIMME A CHANCE SHADOW PLEASE

[robotichedgehog]

I CAN'T BELIEVE I FORGOT TO POST THIS HERE WAAA

[duckthevillain]

Eepy

i saw @project-sonadow’s post and wanted to redraw it

[wires-and-hellfires]

Alastor & child! reader headcanons: First Meeting

Pairing: Alastor & child! reader

Description: Alastor finds a young child wandering around hell and wonders why they were sent here - he quickly finds out.

Warnings: Mentions of child abuse, graphic violence, straight-up murder, manipulation, Alastor as a warning in itself

Author note: First time writing for Hazbin Hotel! Might expand on this, gimme your thought, also this was written at 3am so be gentle with me please-

Your life before hell wasn't... ideal

Always taught to be quiet, to stay out of the way, to stick to the shadows, to be a good child

Trained how to make the adults around you happy, when to say sorry even if you did no wrong, when to cower, when to run

So when you finally snapped and exterminated the vermin that was your parents and every one of their disgusting "coworkers"-

Well, you weren't apologizing for that one, even if your actions led to your own death at the young age of 8

It was almost fitting that upon your arrival to hell, you quickly realized that the shadows bent to your will and people around you seemed inclined to do what you wanted if you just... asked nicely enough

The skills of manipulation and a quick escape never grew out of style, apparently

Upon learning of the exterminations that take place in hell, the irony of being sent there over some pest control of your own did not escape you

After the newest extermination was a good time for you!

You danced in and out of the long shadows on the walls cast by the VoxTech tv's and pickpocketed what you could from his dazed victims

Suddenly stumbling over a curb, you knocked into one of the sinners gathered outside of the store, gaining a snarl from him as he grabbed your arm

With a quick whisper of "Please let me go, you never saw me" his grip slackened and released, eyes dull as he turned back to the screen

You didn't see the famed "radio demon" across the road exiting the tailor, but he saw you

A young sinner taking advantage of the vulnerable? Why it warmed his heart

And when you disappeared into the shadows? Well wasn't that curious...

After his broadcast, he himself slipped into the darkness, letting them guide him to your location

After all, he could recognize what shadows felt like when they were manipulated.

And what a show he walked into!

One man sat slumped against the alley wall, neck bent forward at an unnatural angle

Another lay on the ground, seemingly still alive (for now-), blood pooling out of the gaping hole in his stomach

The last of the group was on all fours, gasping out apologies through bloody lips to a small figure standing over him

The child leaned forward and grinned at the sinner in front of them

"Why don't you try begging a bit more and maybe I'll forgive you? Go on, say sorry again."

Alastor felt his smile slip into something a bit more maniacally pleased

Why, weren't you such a delightful surprise?

The demon before you managed to plead for a total of 15 seconds before you let out a disappointed sigh and a shadow surged forward, severing his head from the rest of his body

"Well, well, well! What a performance! Encore, encore!"

Wide eyes snapped to his as he strolled forward, and though you may not recognize his face after his little... absence, his broadcast earlier was heard clearly all around hell

Even in dark alleys where children lured bad men to their deaths

Before a word slipped from your lips, Alastor held out his palm in a silencing gesture

"Now, now, no need to be afraid, little one! I was just seeking some entertainment for the night! And what a show it was, truly! Bravo!"

And, well, when was the last time someone told you did a good job?

Maybe that's why you didn't even try to talk your way out of the situation.

Or perhaps it was the pounding of your heart, the rhythm of a predator sizing up another creature and weighing their chances against them

Frankly, you weren't confident there was a way out of this situation other than doing whatever it was the radio demon wanted

"Oh my, where are my manners? Alastor, dear, the name is Alastor! You may recognize me from my radio show?"

Despite the blood coating you, he held out his hand to shake

Hesitantly, you grasp it with your own, giving the demon your name

"Lovely, just lovely! Say, what do you think of allowing me the absolute pleasure of a late-night stroll through cannibal town? We could discuss your future aspirations and perhaps even come to a... deal of sorts!"

At the expression on your face, Alastor out a bark of staticky laughter

"Oh no, no, not for your soul, child! Though I would just love ownership of such a thing, I understand that you may feel a tad hesitant! Let me explain and then decide, hmm?"

You stare at him and his unyielding grin

You learnt all the truths your parents shoved down your throat before until you sent them down to hell

Perhaps now you could learn even more valuable lessons from Alastor

You nod at the overlord before you and his grin somehow stretches further

"Fabulous! Come along now!"

Following the radio demon out of the blood-stained alleyway, the shadows thrash against the walls in approval as you feel a smile of your own begin to form

[laurancezvahlslefteyebrow]

real quick! i just wanna make a post about how scar runes and rune tattoos work in my mcd au/rewrite

ok so, as i said before, rune scars and tattoos work very differently: this is kind of a lot of reading but i promise it’s worth it just gimme a chance please 😭 🙏🏻

Scar Runes are meant to amplify one’s own magicks and magical abilities. They cannot be stacked, meaning all Scar Runes on a person’s body must be for the same ability and they must be the same rune in order to work properly. The more Scar Runes a person has, the more powerful that ability. They never fade but they can be corrupted or “killed” altogether if each rune is scratched out. They can be placed on any part of the body but the magic is most potent when the scars are located on the face. Scar Runes are illegal in most places, and outlawed in all of Ru’Aun as they can be used for very dangerous things… like shadow knights…

Rune Tatoos are different.. Rune Tattoos are used to bestow a magical ability or new magicks to a person, often referred to as a “rune gift”. Scar Runes can be used to amplify the gifts given by a tattoo. Because they are able to give a person an entirely new ability and magicks, they are often given at a very young age so that said person is able to learn to use their new abilities as they grow. Unlike Scar Runes, Rune Tattoos can be stacked. A person can have up to 3 (5 if they are extremely strong both physically and mentally) different Rune Tattoos at once, each for a different ability. Rune Tattoos can also be placed on any part of the body, but are most potent when placed on the limbs, notably the hands and feet. These tattoos never fade but can be scratched out similarly to the scars, though this is significantly more difficult and known to cause excruciating pain. Rune Tattoos are an illegal practice in most parts of the world and in almost all parts of Ru’Aun. However, they were not illegal in the village of Zerimar (something i will make a separate post on later..)

Now onto the cultural aspects:

Scar Runes were given to Lady Irene in order to enhance her already existing abilities. Many people of her time tried to mimic this. Some became dangerously powerful and others simply did it improperly and bled out. Scar Runes must be given by someone well versed in said practice, usually a witch, shaman, or warlock.

The people of Zerimar used Rune Tattoos as a part of their culture. At birth, they would be given a name that pertains to the ability their parents would like them to possess, they would then be given their Rune Tattoo by either a witch, shaman, or warlock in their naming ceremony.

Now, when a shadow knight is created, they are given a Rune Tattoo on each of their palms. This tattoo grants them their shadow knight abilities. After doing so, they are given their Scar Runes to enhance these abilities (unfortunately it does not enhance any already existing magicks a person may have). The scars, often called “The Tears” or “Shadow Tears” are given to them by something called “The Claw”, a magical staff with an end similar to Katelyn’s gauntlets.

Because the Divine Warriors were each given theirs abilities, unlike Irene, they all had Rune Tattoos as opposed to Irene’s scars.

i just spent half an hour typing all this please give me validation

[burning-fcols]

"Oh well if you're not into it then nevermind. We can always have fun another way. Anything you wanna do." ozzie @ fizz -  ✩   「 @helluvaxhazbin 」   ✩

「 ☆ 」 Stiff body loosens with a shaky exhale as Asmodeus steps away, light returned to the jester's face now that he doesn't have the Sin's shadow looming over. Wide eyes blink quizzically as his newfound caretaker boss puts some fair distance between them. Air that used to be hot and heavy and THICK with uncomfortable tension suddenly relaxed and dare-say companionable. Wariness tingles down his spine to the tip of his twitching tail, a shudder stealing Fizz's breath as he tries to figure out what game the other is playing.

What kind of Sin, let alone one of LUST, steps away from something they want?

Especially if the one causing an issue is not only an Imp but one of Fizzarolli's... condition. Painfully aware of how precarious his position is, he knows that if he's to remain safe in the benevolence of Sins, he'll need to be WORTH keeping safe. What worth is there in a pet who doesn't perform the tricks they are told?

❝ Wha— Really? Just like that? ❞ Flabbergasted to the point of panic, Fizz hastily steps forward. Hands uncertainly motioning as if haphazardly juggling things that aren't there, Fizz feels about as stable as the objects he used to fling around in the air. Former life fallen to pieces around him, tossed from circumstance to challenging circumstance, now that he FINALLY thought he held some grasp on what was going on— what was expected of him —Asmodeus shatters that too. How is he meant to settle into this new role if his Master won't even give him a CHANCE?

❝ I— I can do it. ❞ Disgusted in himself for having to resort to begging, Fizzarolli swallows what pride he salvaged from the fire— an easy task, there wasn't much —and pleads, ❝ I-If that's what you want, it's not like I'm gonna try and stop ya! I can- GET into it. Just gimme a bit to warm up and then I'll be the horniest fucker you've ever seen! ❞ Repulsed as he may be at the idea of casual sex— no judgment, he's just never been physically drawn to it —Fizz knows he can still fake a good time if it means he's not viewed as a disappointment. He IS a performer, after all. What's a little unemotional bang sesh if not a more intimate type of performance?

He can't let Asmodeus think he's not useful for ANYTHING he might need. He can't not be useful for anything that might be needed. ❝ I'll be a good fuck— No, no- a GREAT one! Just try me out— ❞

❛ Don't give up on me. Please. Not already. ❜ 「 ☆ 」

[bobmccullochny]

It's your fuel pump

A man was driving through west Texas one spring evening. The road was deserted and he had not seen a soul for what seemed like hours.Suddenly his car started to cough and splutter and the engine slowly died away, leaving him sitting on the side of the road in total silence.He popped the hood and looked to see if there was anything that he could do to get it going again.Unfortunately, he had a limited knowledge of cars, so all he could do was look at the engine. Feeling despondent as he stood looking at the gradually fading light of his flashlight, he cursed that he had not put in new batteries like he had promised himself.Suddenly, through the inky shadows, came a deep voice, "It's your fuel pump."The man raised up quickly, striking his head on the underside of the hood. "Who said that?" he demanded.There were two horses standing in the fenced field alongside the road and the man was amazed when the nearest of the two horses repeated, "It's your fuel pump. Tap it with your flashlight, and try it again."

Confused, the man tapped the fuel pump with his flashlight, turned the key and sure enough, the engine roared to life.He muttered a short thanks to the horse and screeched away.When he reached the next town, he ran into the local bar. "Gimme a large whiskey, please!" he said.A rancher sitting at the bar looked at the man's ashen face and asked, "What's wrong, man? You look like you've seen a ghost.""It's unbelievable," the man said and recalled the whole tale to the rancher.The rancher took a sip of his beer and looked thoughtful. "A horse, you say? Was it by any chance a white horse?"The man replied in the affirmative. "Yes, it was! Am I crazy?""No, you ain't crazy. In fact, you're lucky," said the rancher, "because that black horse don't know sh*t about cars."

[imjeralee]

Not the same anon but I really liked your adhd hcs! Could you the same but with Diluc, Kaeya and Xiao please? (could you also add the fact s/o absolutely can't focus for shit on anything more than 5s before zoning out and they tend to be overstimulated very easily by their environment lol)

hi anon!! thank you so much! I’m glad you enjoyed it :) Not a problem, I guess this can be a part 2 ehe. I hope you like this one too. Please see below - 

Diluc

You’re actually one of the best workers he has in Dawn Winery, because you’re efficient and smart and bustling around like ♪~ ᕕ(ᐛ)ᕗ

But you do tend to zone out a lot and sometimes you end up working so late into night and you don’t realise it but you had forgotten to eat dinner so you go to the kitchen and it’s like 3am and Diluc is there because he works late too and he’s also just finally getting the chance to eat so you are always having food together whilst everyone else is asleep :3

At work though, if you had forgotten to do something such as paying the bills, no worries, Diluc has a backup plan - the maids usually help with this 

You usually ramble away to Diluc about anything you think of, even when he’s working at his desk. He’ll just be sitting silently and occasionally throwing you glances every now and then as you pace the study up and down and gesture with your hands. You know he’s listening. 

You may be messy, but the maids help clean up after you 

If you can’t focus, Diluc will help organise your day because he is organised himself and has lots of deadlines and also he has trustworthy employees like Adelinde and Connor who can help come up with a schedule for you on a daily basis but Diluc keeps you close by his side which also means you most likely do a lot of things together and you work/stay very closely with him

In order to help you stay focused and on task, he wants you to accomplish one thing at a time and often Diluc will do this with you personally 

If he was in the middle of doing something else, he will pause to head over to assist you. If he’s not able to, he’ll get Connor or Adelinde to help

When you’re overstimulated because there’s too many people visiting the Winery or feeling really uncomfortable in general and your thoughts are darting all over the place, Diluc will take your hand and lead you away and to your special, quiet place where you can just focus on him and look at his face which helps you gradually relax and calm down

You might zone out a bit when he starts talking but then you notice the intricate details on the buttons of his shirt and the buckle on his belt and you’re like ‘cool’…. And start pressing your fingers over them and he’s like “…….”

He still loff you a lot though 

Kaeya

Somehow everything you lose always end up in his possession??? Like you might go up to him and go ‘Kaeya! I lost my sword! I don’t know what happened to it! Its just disappeared!!” And he will just whip it out from behind his back and be like “You mean.... this sword?” And you’ll be like “YESSSS gimme.”

“Nuh-uh, not yet.”

“Whaaaat?”

“You have to give me a kiss first.”

“Okay.”

It’s actually pretty cool and reassuring because you have no idea how he does it

And this is the kind of relationship you have with him so you’re never bored around him because of how unpredictable he is 

You tend to zone out a lot so he likes making up little puzzles and brain teasers for you whenever you’re with him and keeping you guessing all the time

If you ask a question he’ll answer your question with a question. Can be either infuriating or very stimulating. Hmm.

Also enjoys telling you ghost stories 

I suspect you and Kaeya may actually be a pretty messy duo because you’re both busy with knightly duties and shit and your house will be utter chaos. Kaeya has arranged for a knight to come around twice a week to clean up tho

He loves to act as your own personal assistant and remind you of things so you don’t forget, usually by coming up behind you and leaning down to whisper in your ear 

If you zone out again, he’ll feed you some candy or hold your hand so you can play with his long fingers and the studs on his gloves or he’ll make little ice crystals with unique patterns and make them float around in the air for you 

He’ll also allow you to play with his ponytail

He’s quiet on his own so he’ll be a good listener

When you are experiencing sensory overload, Kaeya will usually sort it out for you one way or another. You’re in good hands. Then you will go and take a nap together.

Xiao

Xiao is your mentor. He speaks so fluently and to the point and also expects you to be clear and concise when dealing with him and so unceremoniously end up helping you organise your own thoughts 

Otherwise, you might zone out often and very easily because there’s too many things going on in Wangshu Inn and it’s too much to handle but then the smell of almond tofu being cooked in the kitchen helps kick you back to reality and you’ll realise Xiao was standing there by your side the entire time 

Ok ok so we know from Ganyu that Xiao is punctual and hates tardiness so he’s good at reminding you about appointments/deadline if needed.

I mean he will drill this into your brain with an iron fist. Defy him if you dare

It also means he will inevitably come up with some practises and teach you how to be mindful, how to increase your awareness and also various breathing exercises

Aside from that, he will notice you lose things a lot esp when he finds random stuff littering the Wangshu Inn ranging from cheese and vials of whopperflower nectar so he will keep an eye on you from now on.

Or if he’s not around, he will ask Verr Goldet to take note of what you lost so she can easily and quickly replace it thanks to Wangshu Inn’s connections

Xiao observes what you do on a regular basis from the shadows and then returns to the inn and also ask Verr Goldet to check up on you every now and then and remind you when it’s time to eat because he noticed you often forget to eat

One day you might return to your room and discover that he’s actually left some food for you and there this note on it with the word “EAT” scribbled on it 

Your impulsiveness and the hectic and chaos that surrounds you works well with him because it’s not like he has a schedule either, I mean he often turns up in your room at 4am after fighting so many demons after 3 days straight and he’s in agony from all that bad karma but there’s you and you’re awake because obv you forgot to do something and went back to it hours later but now that he’s here and in your presence and you want to talk to him about your day and he’ll be listening to everything

And listening to your voice and the way you speak is actually really soothing/comforting to him and even makes his pain goes away

Then you’ll remember what you were doing and rush off and he’ll be back up and running and go off to destroy more demons so the world can sleep better at night 

or if he’s free, you drag him outside to go on an adventure and explore the area around the inn and beat up some hilichurls 

If you have some trivial task to do and need his help, he’ll just offer his assistance at no cost, quite simple as that

During his free time, he’ll try to find out more about stim toys to help you. 

Xiao will learn what triggers your overstimulation and purposefully help you avoid it or get rid of the problem before it actually happens.

[decimalpointed]

Another Excerpt from Beaten Dogs

Another soft moment between Ekko and Jinx. Please MIND THE TAGS  if you decide to read the whole thing. It is not for the faint of heart. It is tragic and dark.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36364564/chapters/90661750

He's working late into the night covered with paint and too wired to sleep when Jinx appears. He can always tell the distinct tread of her boots. She climbs up on his makeshift scaffold and huffs out a laugh.

"You got her nose all wrong." She says flatly, staring up at where he's been painting Vi's face on the mural wall. He looks back at it and frowns.

"No I didn't." She gives him a look like he's being ridiculous.

"Gimme." Then she's snatching the paint from his hands and redoing his hard work.

"Hey!" He wants to steal the paint back, annoyed that she's here, telling him how to paint his own damn wall. He's not sure how she even got into the tree grotto this time. Him and Scar had sealed all but two entrances last week and put solid metal doors on the ones that  remained. He didn't want to take any chances with their safety. Silco's grip on the Undercity grew tighter every day.

She must know a way in he hadn't found yet. It makes him both uneasy and relieved. He didn't want their nights to come to an end, even as he draws closer and closer to making the first strike back against her master.

"See, look? Perfect." She tosses the can of paint up in the air after she's done. He barely catches it.  Huh. He has to admit Vi looks better now. He hadn't even noticed she had looked wrong.  Their faces were fading from his memory faster and faster.

He grabs another can and tosses it to her.

"Help me with the others?"  She looks at the can in her hand, then around at the shadows in the night. Her eyes fall on figures he can't see, but he knows who each one must be. The firelights flicker around them, peaceful and serene.

"Sure." She says with a wistful smile and gets to work.

He cherishes each minute with her. These nights will not last much longer.

[tigerdrop]

“You— You just—” Gordon sputters uselessly. He was there the whole time! Presumably! Unless he just, like, buzzed off and went to go do something else. Like usual. Resignation settles over him like a thick blanket soon enough. Whether or not Benrey participated in the goings-on of the world around him was largely up to chance. So eventually, he gives up, takes a deep breath, and says, or rather, pants the last half, “Gordon’s biiig hurtin’, man. I—  oh, God— gimme a second, I gotta figure out how to… get to my feet.”

Benrey frowns at him. The handgun gets holstered. Gordon’s not really paying attention to him until Benrey’s shadow falls over his face. Then he looks up.

A hand. Chipped nail polish and all. Gordon looks at it, and then at him again, and the gears in his head fail to click. Benrey rolls his eyes under the shadow of his helmet.

“scared to hold my hand or somethin’? huh? too gay for you?”

“What? No!” And out of pure spite, the one thing that could make him take Benrey’s hand right now, he does just that.

-----------

after many months..... chapter 6 of co-op game theory is finally posted. thank u all for your patience during these trying times . in this weeks episode, gordons hurtin, and we get to see a few familiar (and not-so-familiar) faces. the boys are in some deep shit tonight. please take a look i will love u forever......or start from the beginning.....?

[arty-shadow-morningstar]

Treasure Hunter AU

I binged watch the Mummy trilogy while i had no wifi/internet for a while and I had an idea for a treasure hunter Mari with Daminette.

--------

Damian was bored.(age: 22-28 years old.)

At a gala party.

Meets Marinette who was equally bored.(abt the same age as D)

He finds out she was the finder of this famous artifact on display.

-----

Damian tugged at his collar, scanning the crowd. His father needed a plus one to show up with and everyone else were busy.

He grabbed a champagne flute and made his way to the edge of the room.

He found a woman in a black evening gown, looking as bored as he felt. short dark hair. Blue eyes.( I suck at describing people after the third time doing it. It feels overrated)

"Hello, stranger. You bored with mingling in with the assholes on their high horses?"

"Should I be offended?"

"We will see. Depends on you."

"How about you? A beautiful lady like you not kissing up their asses to climb the social ladder. That is strange."

She made a face. "Trust me. I don't want to be here but my friend wanted family time so I came in his place. What about you? Why are you here?"

"I am pretty sure my father wanted someone to get him out if the vultures came too close."

"Vultures, adept descriptions. I am glad no one realized who I am yet or i would be in their claws."

"Who are you representing, anyways?"

"Myself but Adrien or Kagami usually comes in my place but tonight, they have their son's play to go to."

"Adrien and Kagami. Aren't they the Agreste-Tsrungi?"

"Yep."

"You are the Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Globe trotting Treasure hunter and also world-class designer, MDC."

"Now you know. What's your name, handsome stranger?"

"You don't know?"

"Hey. Like you said globetrotting treasure hunter. I am not up-to-date on the news front. And when I am in Paris to do designer stuff, i am too busy to look at the news."

He gave her his hand, "Damian Wayne. Son of Bruce Wayne who is a billionaire and owns Wayne Enterprise."

She shook it.

"Pleased to meet you."

She stills design but like sent her designs to Adrien at least once every month, who had rebranded Gabriel to Miraculous Designs.

Some ppl thinks he did it to spite his father, who is in jail. Adrien and Mari has a partnership thing.

Mari also makes clothes but for a few months. And the rest of the time is spent travelling.

Exclusive designs from MDC are rare but the designs hand made by her are rarer so they are like a really big deal. They have the most amazing details. Really expensive and limited edition.

The rest of the time Mari spends finding Miraculouses (Miraculi ?) lost in the world so if she happens to find a few priceless artifacts that aren't the Miraculous. She donates it.

Alix helps and sometimes go find them with her.

She has Tikki and Plagg and maybe Wyazz all the time to look for curses and counter it.

She has also met John Constantine. They have an arrangement of sorts. A few magical artifacts that doesn't have to Miraculous business are given to him in exchange for any miraculous stuff he has or found.

Adrien funds her trips.

He is married to Kagami.

Kagami goes with Mari and Alix for a few months sometimes. Adrien likes being a stay at home dad.

Their kid is named Marin/Martin because it was Mari who got them together.

The few trips Mari dragged him on was enough to make him stay behind and run the business.

(Back to the story) Damian fangirled a little because Mari had been doing stuff like this since she was 18.

It was an amazing reputation she has.

She invites him to her next trip after questioning his skill sets.

------

"Are you good with heights, dark scary places and adventuring into the unknown?"

"Yes"

"You any good with guns, swords, knives, booby traps and keeping calm under pressure?"

"Yes. I have many experiences with them."

"Can you keep a secret?"

"Yes. Why are you asking me this?"

"Wanna join me on my next trip to the jungle of China? There are myths about some hidden temple."

------

Damian was a little conflicted.

He hadn't have the chance to explore the world much. He had been somewhere else for a mission (for the League of Shadows or JL business) but never for pleasure.

Being a vigilante by night and working at Wayne Enterprise by day gets a little boring after some years.

His brothers had a chance to travel the world on their own for a while. Sure, for reasons other than sight-seeing and looking for something to break out of the rut he was in. But still.

This was an exciting opportunity but a tad suspicious.

-----

"Why me?"

She looked surprised at that.

"Oh. Well, my friends enjoy coming with me on my adventures, treasure hunting and all that every now and then except Adrien but they have other things in their life to come with me all the time. I can mostly survive on my own most of the time but it gets lonely travelling on my own and it's nice if someone is there to watch my back. I understand if you don't want to come. It's just that I enjoy your company and you aren't like those assholes on their high horses. My gut feeling says I can trust you. You are not after the treasure or see it as one big game. You are looking for an escape. You would definitely catch me if I fall. As you know from my choice of friends, i have a bad habit of pulling rich kids from their stuffy lifestyle and take them on potentially life-threatening adventures." She joked. Then she lowered her voice, "Besides, it might be handy having a former assassin around."

She said in Arabic.

His hand went to his hidden knife and found it not there.

"Looking for this?" She said, holding it.

"How much do you know?" He hissed back in the same language.

"Relax," she gave back the knife, "my mother was one and I have accidentally came across a few in my adventures. I know one when i see one. I took a stab in the dark with your middle-eastern background. Speaking of, you know Talia Al Ghul by any chance."

He narrowed his eyes.

"She's my mother. Why?"

"You look like her. Met her a few times. Nice lady but scary. Mine's Sabine Cheng, goes by the Blue Reaper." She said it so casually like their parents weren't dangerous deadly assassins and had normal jobs.

"You aren't normal, are you?"

"What gave it away?"

"That you willingly gave away blackmail material to me."

"Normal people don't have assassins for mothers. And you and me aren't exactly meeting the minimum standards for normal. Besides, I just told you a family secret that you would have found out anyways with a through background search and a little digging. So far all I know about you is that your parents are Talia Al Ghul and Bruce Wayne-I wonder how an assassin got together with a billionaire-, you are a former League of Shadows assassin, you are great with weapons, keeping secrets and so far meeting the criteria for an adventure buddy. That's all I swear. And that you have some pets. A cat, maybe."

"How you know about my cat?!"

"Cat hair on your clothes." She was good. "If it will ease your mind about me, you can ask me 5 questions that I will truthfully answer. "

"So why are you doing this?"

"That's question 1. Well, I really want whatever this is between us to work. Partners, Friends, Companions, Comrades. Whatever you want to call it. Like I said, I get lonely sometimes and need some human interaction to at least keep myself sane. You looked like you want to be somewhere else and I thought this is perfect. I am not going to tell anyone about you or push you to join me. I swear on my mother's sword."

"Are we killing anybody?"

"Mostly I try to avoid that as much as possible. Sometimes I get into situations with no other alternative. " She looked away guiltily.

"Fair enough."

"Not judging me for that. That's a first for me."

"I am a former assassin and have killed before. I have no right to condemn you for your past."

"How much are you willing to tell me about this hidden temple?"

"That has to do with a secret. I would tell you more when there are less ears around. But this temple was said to hold a magic jewel that grants some powers and it is located really deep in the jungle. Getting there might take months."

"You forgot to mention that last one."

"Oh yeah. You think you can get away for some months. This kind of stuff usually takes a while. Like I said before, no pressure. Anyway, 2 questions left."

"What's my salary?"

"Aren't you a billionaire?"

"My father is. I have a trust fund and I get a salary for doing my job at the company. You are lucky that I just finished with most of my assigned projects so I might be able to come."

"I am so sorry about just assuming things about you. You can say no to the offer. The temple is said to hold some other treasures but I mainly want the jewel. We could auction off a few bits and pieces. I usually just donate them to museums and universities or sell them to those who really appreciate the history. I would also pay for the entire expenses for the trip."

"Can I think about this?"

"Sure. Here's my number. I leave on the 1st of next month. Gimme an answer a week before that so I can make the proper arrangements. It has been fun talking to you, Damian."

She walked away, going towards the buffet table.

------

Back in the car on the way home to the manor.

Bruce asked, "Who were you talking to for that long?"

"Who?"

"The one that gave you her number."

"Oh. MDC. She invited me to join her in China next month to find some hidden temple."

"She did?"

"Yes. Not only that she found out about mother and know what I did before I came here. She doesn't know about Batman, Robin or Crow. And she said she wasn't going to blackmail me but just wanted a companion to go with her. Ideally, it would be best to silence her before she digs any further into me but I trust her. I sincerely believe that she meant it when she said that she's not going to tell on me. And I am really tempted to take up on it."

"What do you want to do?"

"On one hand, i would be gone for months so there won't be Crow in Gotham for a while and I have a few projects I need to finish up. On the other hand. Father, I have been a vigilante for over 10 years now and I haven't really done much out besides that, school and now work. I have appreciated all you have done for me over the years. But I want to go with her. Do something that is not connected to Batman or Wayne or Al Ghul. Just a little something different for myself."

"You can go if you want. I am not going to stop you. I will make arrangements so the projects would be done by someone else. The others can cover your patrols. You are still young so it is understandable to want some fun every now and then."

"Thank you, Father."

Bruce put his hand on his shoulder.

"I am proud of you as Crow and as Damian Wayne. But if you want to go find some hidden temple in China just for a break from this life, to be just Damian, go for it. There are worse things you could do. Just tell me if you are going to go on any future trips like that." (I don't know DC much, sorry if that is a little OOC but I like good dad! Bruce.)

-------

Damian dialed the number on the card.

"Hello"

"I accept your offer, miss MDC."

"Damian? Right, text me your email address. I will sent you things you would need to pack and flight details. And can you come by to the Gotham Rose Hotel tomorrow? I will give more details on the temple."

-------

Damian comes by the hotel.

Marinette tells him of the kwamis and miraculous and makes him swear to not tell anyone unless they already know.

The hidden temple actually might have a miraculous.

Damian gets a little interested in the akuma situation she mentioned.

Mari doesn't say anything about it much.

When he got back, he goes to the Bat-computer and did some digging.

Ladybug looks a little familiar. Pulls up younger picture of Mari and look at that, she used to be a superhero.

Wonder Woman was kept informed of things and made sure no one goes to Paris without her knowing.

Zatanna helped capture the villain Hawkmoth and end his 2 year reign.

Fast forward, they are in Beijing now, sleeping off jetlag.

The next morning, They get out of the city somehow to the city limits and somewhere remote.

Mari uses Kalki and transports them to the jungle.

They set up camp. Cue Campfire stories.

-----

"I thought getting here would take months."

"No actually, finding the temple would. According to my research and the map I copied through less than legal means, it is somewhere in this general area. There used to a city around here too and the king or emperor pissed off some powerful priest or wizard, take your pick. There was a curse. The city crumbled down and the temple is the only thing standing because the king went there and prayed to the gods for protection. The one who answered his prayers and protected the temple in doing so the king was pressed into service of the god. The king did everything the god said for a while but later, he started to hate it and began disobeying the orders. The god cursed him for his disobedience. The temple he was protected in became his tomb and he was tasked to protect the chest inside the temple for the rest of eternity. Anyone who opens the chest would gain the ultimate power to rule the earth. Thankfully, we are not after the chest. Some powerful crack-head with a misused miraculous tried to find it and open the chest for more power. But he never returned. My theory is that the miraculous is still in the temple. As long as we don't wake up the king or go for the chest, we would be okay."

"What are the guns for? And How did you get them past security?"

"In case of emergencies, an army of undead was mentioned and guns are surprisingly good repellent. Well, most of the time. It's useless if there is a no weapons can kill 'it' rule. Then, it's just a stress reliever. I kept them in a pocket dimension. Makes it easier to get around."

Damian vowed to never let Marinette meet Jason. Judging by the pile of guns and occasional knives and other weapons she took out of the brown satchel which apparently holds a pocket dimension, Jason would adopt her. He wondered if that was all that was inside in.

-------

They packed up and started searching the jungle for hidden temple.

It was a month and a half before they found it.

They bonded a lot during that time.

They had a moment after drinking a little alcohol which Mari has in the pocket dimension. Or Drank a lot of alcohol and had sex.

It was awkward and they both agree to not talk about it again.

Soon after, they found the temple. But it is still a little far away.

But the temple is not the only thing they found. They also found a campsite with many people milling around. Some of them carried guns.

Somewhat rich bastard who overheard their conversation at the gala. Heard treasure and found out where Mari's next expedition is.

Had the help of some scholar who wants to be famous for the greatest find since King Tut.

They found the temple even though they had no magical help, they left 2 weeks before Mari did, so yeah.

Rich Bastard's name is 'Philip Anderson'(This sounds familiar to me for some reason and I can't find out why.) and Scholar is 'Harry Scott'

They have armed bodyguards and some 'hired' help to get the treasure.

Anderson is still rich but his company had been getting losses the past 2 years and this is a quick, easy get rich scheme.

Mari and Damian: "Rich asshole on his high horse."

Anderson doesn't know about the chest but Mari and Damian thinks he does and it was what he was after.

They set up camp a little further ahead of Anderson's

Unfortunately, they were found by Harry. Somehow.

-----

I am going to continue this when I am more awake.

[crymeariveronceagain]

It would be interesting to see a roleswap with Tam/Linh and Biana/Fitz, actually. Both their families are from high-up, important places in society, both I imagine were encouraged to see each other as competition from a young age (even if Linh and Tam got past that; I don't think Biana and Fitz ever did), and it's even more interesting when you consider the 'Biana and Fitz are actually twins (why the Vackers, the Most Elven Of The Elves, had three kids when simply having two is looked down upon) and Alden Made Them Hide It' headcanon.

In this I imagine Linh would be the Fitz, actually - maybe an AU where she manifested a bit later, or had a bit more control. Maybe she was molded into saying whatever her parents wanted her to say, smiling and being quiet and obedient and the perfect daughter, her power into pretty tricks and advanced moves, all while her rage screamed under the surface of her skin, her true power longed to be released. She grew up perfect but caged in it, until she snaps, like Fitz does.

Tam was probably the quieter of the two, so with an absence of someone to protect he might have just... faded into the background. Unnoticed, in the shadows, unable to be the heir is parents wanted but not quite bad enough to be a failure. Unseen. Or maybe he didn't, with his stigmatized, dark power and his own rage; maybe he's the Alvar here. Maybe he's the failure, the angry one they still can't get to accept Linh is a year older, just say it (fitting with her being Fitz here). It could go either way.

This means Fitz is Linh, I guess. Actually, this could work. We know how powerful he was meant to be from a young age; what if he just... manifested earlier? Younger? Alden's already started sending him out to the Lost Cities, so maybe he gets into trouble there; hurts someone's mind trying to shield his own from all the voices, all the pain he can't stop. And of course when he's found out, well, Alden certainly can't allow anyone to find out what he's been doing, can he? He can't risk himself or his position like that. And of course people know - they see what's up when Fitz can't even defend himself under Alden's gaze as his Tribunal, know normal circumstances don't allow for what happened. But he's banished, anyway, and Alden is safe.

I guess Biana is Tam. I really don't know what to with her, here. Is she angry, pissed off that the world couldn't even allow her perfect brother safety? Is she shocked that suddenly, it all comes together, suddenly she knows that her dad never cared about anyone, not even Fitz, who he spent time with and complimented and it doesn't matter because he threw him under the bus the first chance he got. Maybe she realizes Alden doesn't love her; loves power more than people; and maybe she burns down a building, then, sneaking in, invisible to the world, and forces the Council to banish two children instead of just one.

Idk about Alvar. I like the idea of him being younger, here; if the Songs after Tam and Linh were banished pretended they never had kids then the Vackers pretended the youngest, Alvar, was their only kid; the final chance to make it right, to forget about the previous two failures. Maybe he grows up hating them, only to learn, gradually, that his parents really, really suck.

Just wanted an opinion on it.

hi so i love this.

I love everything about this.

This is really good, and well thought through, and I would like your fic now, please. Pass it my way. Stars. Gimme. I don't think I can live without that anymore.

I want Fitz and Biana as banished kids who found out the world doesn't care.

I want Linh and Tam as powerful but hurting kids who are being forced into a place of stature.

Stars above.

This is amazing.

I don't know what else to say, so I suppose I'll just leave it to stand out on its own merits, in all it's amazing ideas.

[deniigi]

hi I have something for y’all called a disaster.

I wrote an Inimitable!Spiderman/Modern Star Wars AU because no one can stop me, not even myself. it is like 47 pages long. I am handing it tenderly to y’all.

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

Title: impossible scenario

Summary: Peter runs into some drunk assholes arguing, calling each other Han and Luke. He lets it roll off him until he can’t anymore and eventually finds himself for the first time on the other side of someone more chaotic than himself.

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

There was an argument happening under a fire escape. Peter knew about it because a concerned dude wearing a fuckin’ Yankees cap had flagged him down with waving arms and told him that someone needed saving, Spiderman. Some tall asshole was kidnapping a young blond dude, the guy  and his too-cool-for-him girlfriend explained. They’d heard the two scuffling.

Peter maybe stared for a beat too long at them because the gal pointed two blocks behind him and said, “That way. I think the blond guy might be drugged. He’s slurrin’ something strong.”

Peter liked her shoes. They looked like Miles’s, but blue.

“Spidey?”

Miles told Peter all the time that he wasn’t cool enough to wear Jordans. MJ and Johnny had agreed. Such sad times.

“Spidey.”

“I got it,” Peter sighed.

The gal tsked.

“Man, you’re too young to be this jaded,” she said.

Peter sighed.

“You’re the third person to say that this week,” he said. “You think I should go back to therapy?”

There was a pause.

“You know that answer, dude,” cool-gal said. “Go save the twink.”

Twink. Got it. Thank you, citizen.

“There are websites for that shit, Spidey.”

Bye now.

“Apps, even.”

Bye, bye.

“BetterHelp or Headspace or somethin’—”

“Two blocks, you said?” Peter asked.

 --

 Two blocks away, there was indeed a man with dark hair trying to lift a violently intoxicated twink up onto the first steps of a fire escape. Peter examined his options. There were many ways to ruin a potential kidnapper’s day. His favorite involved coke and mentos, although he’d received feedback that that was a waste of perfectly good food. Down the list was also the option to walk over and scream bloody murder so that the kidnapper shat themselves and dropped their target.

That was good, but Peter was tired and the thought of mustering up the energy to scream at a noticeable volume made his thighs turn to Jell-o.

That left snark and violence.

Today, he would not choose violence. Only for today.

He strode out of his dark temporary residence between two dumpsters directly towards the tall dude and his mark. The mark was a messy one. Bless his heart, he was unwittingly making himself the most noncompliant victim to have ever victim-ed. Every time the tall guy got him almost vertical, he gave up his corporeal form to become drunk slime and ooze back to the ground with various moaning sound effects.

It would have been funny if not for the kidnapping context.

The fact that Peter had been standing there under the beams of two separate side-building security lights and neither of those two had noticed yet was also objectively funny—or would have been, if Peter had the capacity for processing humor at the moment.

Alas. This was what he got for telling Tony that he’d evolved beyond the need for sleep. He got caffeine-pilled. And there would be no true rest until that shit wore off, exhausted as Peter’s body yearned to be.

“Kid, work with me here,” the tall guy said.

“I can’t, I’ll die,” the shorter one moaned.

“Luke.”

“I’ve done my time—thirty years in AZKA—”

“Keep your voice down, oh my god.”

Peter was just standing here, fellas.

“Luke.”

“Why’s it always me? Why’s it always gotta be me? The hell did I do to piss off the whole galax-galaxy? HA. My bad, my bad. The whole universe?”

God, what a mood.

The tall guy dropped his grip on the smaller one and loomed over his puddle of ooze with poison in his gaze.

“People are going to die, Luke,” he said.

“So what? They’re always dyin’. Everywhere I go, people’re dyin’ and when it’s not them dyin’, you know who is?”

“Kid.”

“ME.”

“So you’re just gonna wallow there, feelin’ sorry for yourself?” the tall dude snapped.

“Sure am,” the puddle of ooze hummed.  

This was not a kidnapping. This was a come-to-Jesus in the back alley of a bar. Peter was not needed here. He turned around on his heel and stopped when he heard a sharp intake of breath.

“Is that?” someone whispered.

“Don’t mind me, pal, just your friendly neighborhood—” he started.

“Look what you did,” Tall and Handsome hissed at Ooze-Man. “Someone went and called Spiderman on us.”

Peter lifted a brow as Ooze-man ripped its chest up from the asphalt and composed itself back into a human shape with fluffy blonde hair and huge wide eyes.

“Omigod, it’s Spiderman,” the guy said. “Wait, no. Gimme a hand. No, not that one, fuck off, nevermind, I don’t need you.”

He drew himself up to standing, only leaning slightly on his buddy there and gave Peter as lopsided smile.

“Hi, there,” he said with a twang that Peter couldn’t place. “Were you lookin’ for someone, handsome?”

Ah, they had reached the time of night when all the drunks needed to tell Peter things he already knew about his ass. He loved this time.

Not to mention that this dude looked eerily like Johnny. Scarily like Johnny. So much like Johnny that Peter almost wanted to take a picture of him to send to Sue so that she could print up some lost and found posters.

“Just lookin’ at you, babe,” he said. “This guy botherin’ you?”

The tall guy blanched and then grabbed at his face in horror. Peter swallowed his laugh.

“He sure is, hon. You got time to rescue me?” Blondie crooned.

“Luke, please. Please.”

“Because I’m in real distress,” ‘Luke’ said with a pout mighty enough to fell Thor.

“You sure seem like it,” Peter said. “C’mere. I’ll walk you home. Leave that tool, he ain’t worth your breath.”

He held out an elbow like proper gentleman and was pleased at the hand that Luke laid over his heart in response.

Peter could imagine Johnny’s face in six different expression of jealous horror at a selfie taken with this look-alike. Each was beautiful in its own special way. As payment for being referred to counseling by the public, he at least deserved to receive at least two of those faces.

“You mean that?” Luke asked him.

“He doesn’t,” his tall companion said.

“I sure do, where do you live? I’ll walk you,” Peter said.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cry, he’s gonna escort me,” Luke said, all choked up and fanning his eyes lightly.

This tall friend grabbed him before he could escape, though, and pulled him back behind his own body.

“Listen, Spidey, this is a misunderstanding,” he drawled. “I know this idiot—he is technically my idiot— and I’m the one escorting his ass home. Thanks, though. You’re a real menace. Beat it.”

MMMMMMM.

And here Peter had been planning on being jaded and miserable this fine night. How could he now when this dude was ticking every box that made him feel alive?

“What’s your name, dollface?” Peter asked across the short distance.

“None of your business,” Tall Guy answered abruptly.

“Luke,” Luke said around him. “Are you gonna save me?”

“In just a minute,” Peter said, striding forward with a hard roll in his shoulder and deep drop in his knees.

It was amazing how Tall Guy wanted to take some steps back all of the sudden. Peter couldn’t help but let a smirk widen his face as he advanced.

“Okay, hang on now,” Tall Guy said with both palms out in front of him. “You don’t know what this is about, Spidey. You don’t want to get involved with this, trust me. He’s just bein’ dramatic. No need to get testy.”

“You sure do a lot of talkin’ for your friend there,” Peter noted through his grin.

“Yeah, Han,” Luke said.

Ha.

Han. Han and Luke. Ned was gonna be enraptured when Peter told him about this later.

“Luke. Back me up.”

“Why should I?”

“Because,” ‘Han’ finally snapped. “I’m not doin’ this because I want you to suffer, alright? I don’t want nothin’ to do with it either, okay? No one does. But it’s this or—”

“Or everyone else,” Luke finished for him in a strangely toneless voice.

Han sighed.

“It’s always everyone else,” Luke said.

“Not here.”

“Why’s it always everyone el—No, no, here. Why not? We’ve got fucking Spiderman in our midst, how much more surreal can this moment get? No. You listen to me, Han—”

“I’ve been listening to you all damn evening and you know what I’m hearing?”

“—I lost my life for this. I lost my home, my aunt, my uncle, my hand—”

“I’m hearing you making this about you.”

“—everything I ever knew, and I tried to make it right, didn’t I? I made the school. I gathered the kids—”

“And it’s not just about you this time, kid. It’s not about you, it’s not about me, or Leia, or Chewie or—”

“—I lost my kid and the love of my life, and I finally get a second chance at finding them and giving them the goddamn happy ending they deserve, and the next thing I know—”

“Luke, you’re the only one,” Han said.

“I WAS NEVER. THE ONLY. ONE, HAN,” Luke roared out of absolutely nowhere, sober as a saint. “I was never the only one. EVER. Ahsoka. Go find her. She’s everything that I’m not and more. She’s the real—”

“Luke.”

“Stop saying that name. I HATE that name. I would do anything for twenty goddamn seconds where I didn’t have to be him.”

“You don’t mean that,” Han said quietly. His shoulders had rounded out and become black and heavy under the weight of their shadow. Luke’s eyes, however, looked like topaz.

“I mean it,” Luke said.

Oho.

So shit had gotten real tense, real fast, so Peter about to make a decision that was gonna make Shelley so proud of him she would weep when he finally slunk back in through her office door.

He was leaving. He was turning around and taking a wee jog. Maybe turning a corner, having a little jump over a fence, up a wall, to a place as far away from this one as superhumanly possible.

Bye, bye.

“This galaxy needs you, Luke.”

Peter stopped five paces away.

“They need you,” Han repeated. “And I need you.”

Peter slowly looked back to see that Luke’s face had twisted sharply out of the light, towards the alley wall.

“I’m sorry that we met again like this,” Han said quietly. “I’m sorry it’s always you. You don’t deserve this. No one deserves this.”

“Shut up,” Luke said.

“But if you don’t do something, then it won’t be just me and you and all these random others sliding back into that cesspit we all barely crawled out of.”

“Stop.”

“You’ll never find him if things go back the way they were.”

“You—you don’t know that. There—maybe—”

“Luke. Listen to me. Please.”

“Maybe there’s a chance—”

“Luke,” Han said reaching out and putting a hand on Luke’s shoulder and clenching it hard enough that Peter should see the bunched fabric, “Do you want Din to live through this shitshow a second time? Hasn’t he suffered enough?”

Peter shivered. The pressure at the base of his neck was building. The Spidey Sense wanted to hiss in his ears like white noise. It pinned him where he was, staring over his shoulder at those two solid shapes, one digging a hand into the flesh of the other.

His stomach turned.

Luke said something that Peter couldn’t hear. Han pulled him toward his own body by the grip he had on his shoulder. At first, Luke seemed to stagger, like he was walking on black ice. He stopped a single step away from Han’s body, still with his face angled severely away. Han said something to him.

There was a long pause, then Luke seemed to fall forward. Han caught him and crushed his head into his shoulder, lowering his own until it was almost touching Luke’s ear. They clung to each other.

Luke was crying.

The Spidey Sense started to crackle and pop in Peter’s ears.

“I gotchu, kid,” Han said in a rasp. “I gotchu. We’re gonna get through it.”

Peter blinked once and finally unlocked the muscles in his neck. He wasn’t meant to witness this. He held out a wrist and fired a line.

  --

It was weird.

It was just weird.

Something wasn’t right. And Peter couldn’t make his stomach not writhe about it.

Luke.

Han.

An offhand mention of like, characters. Character names. They were character names. Leia, Chewie.

Peter had heard of people who lived their lives honestly believing that they had been other people—fake people—in past lives, but like, damn man. Why would you put yourself in a position like that were you were moved to actual tears for some elaborate street-drama?

Maybe it had been a joke? That was the only thing he could think it could be. Maybe the universe had gazed upon his hubris at work and gone ‘ah yes, I know what this young man needs: emotional confusion at midnight on a Thursday. That’ll fix him.’

If that was the case, then yeah. Good job, universe. Good job, larpers. Y’all are equally sick.

But if not—and Peter no longer lived in a world where he could rule out any possibilities—then he had just witnessed—Dude, he’d just witnessed—

He couldn’t even think it. It was beyond him. It was so far beyond him that like he might have a real stroke taking the thought seriously.

There was only one person who could hold that kind of information unscathed.

Only one.

  --

PP: Ned. I need you to listen to me and tell me I’m not crazy.

NL: no promises but go on

PP: I think? I just saw? Luke Skywalker? And Han Solo? In an alley behind Kitty’s?????

NL: fascinating

JS: Say more

PP: who let you in here?

JS: you?

PP: SECURITY

NL: Peter say more

PP: I can’t there’s a nerd in here and it’s vibrating at the wrong decibel. SECURITY???

MJ: yeah?

PP: I’m trying to have a breakdown. Can you remove Matchstick please?

MJ: what kind of breakdown

JS: he thinks he met Luke Skywalker

PP: Security has failed me. God?

NL: Peter can you name three things you can see.

PP: I am not manic. I am in touch with reality. I’m just having anxiety because I just fucking saw two people calling each other Luke and Han fighting behind Kitty’s. Like real fighting.

JS: nicknames?

PP: I—

PP: oh my god nicknames

PP: Johnny I’m so sorry I ever doubted you. never leave my side

JS: 😊

MJ: wow that’s cringe. Imagine naming yourself after SW characters

NL: does kitty do a cosplay night now????

PP: idk it was wild. People thought that ‘Han’ was trying to kidnap ‘Luke’ but when I got over there, Luke started flirting with me and then shit got real and they started arguing over like him hating his name and not wanting to do something and losing everything or some shit

NL: that’s a lot. I’m sure it was nothing, though, peter.

PP: yeah it was. My SS has been going nuts ever since I left. You think they bugged me?

JS: yes I will come search your body imminently

MJ: my job storm, back off

JS: after MJ has finished prelim checks, I will then search your body for you out of the kindness of my heart ❤

NL: that’s weird, the SS doesn’t usually freak out about cosplayers

PP: ikr?

NL: lol imagine if they were serious

MJ: don’t say that

JS: well now we have to lean in. thanks ned

JS: they were definitely real. God they were so real. You hear that Fate? You got us. They’re definitely real.

PP: BUT WHAT IF THEY WERE?

MJ: cue breakdown

NL: that would be so fucking funny. Luke Skywalker and Han Solo trying to save the world from the hellscape of nyc. The rats alone would thwart them.

PP: ned I’m freaking out

NL: oh you mean you’re actually freaking out?

PP: deeply

NL: oh shit sorry. I’ll be over, have you slept yet?

PP: NO

MJ: on it

JS: can I join?

NL: no johnny

MJ: no johnny

PP: 😭

JS: one day our love will build a bridge, peter. In the meantime I am stroking your ear comfortingly from midtown

  --

Need and MJ’s weight pinning him to a mattress brought sleep but not necessarily comfort. They both thought that this was a sick joke someone had played on him that was now destroying his psyche. They thought that the couple pointing him back towards the cosplayers had been in on the joke.

Peter would have agreed with them if it wasn’t for the Spidey Sense. Everything else lined up perfectly.

Ned sighed in the morning and told Peter to go talk to Wade.

 --

 Wade’s hallucinations were, by far, more auditory than visual, but he stayed quiet while Peter talked his ear off over the phone in his locked office. He waited until Peter had run out of words to describe the feeling of impending doom and then huffed a bit of a laugh into the receiver.

“Them Star Wars people are unreal, Pete, you know this,” he said. “Look at Ned.”

Ned was perfect.

“Take off those rosy shades, hon. Now, look again.”

Ned had perhaps memorized the entire scripts of the first three movie and 90% of the spaceship names and the jedi lineages.

“Uh-huh. Keep going.”

Peter didn’t want to.

“We all gotta do shit we don’t want do.”

Fine.

Ned’s goal in life was to go to his wedding in a stormtrooper suit.

“Keep going.”

Every Lego project they’d built together since 13 years-old had been a Star Wars-related one. When Ned had decided to move out of his parents’ place, he’d shed actual tears over MJ and Peter mutually suggesting that he sell some of his memorabilia.

“Will this delightful buffet before our very eyes, what is the likelihood of your two pals being drunk larpers in too deep to quit?” Wade asked.

73%.

“Uh-huh.”

“Thanks, Wade.”

“No problem. Although, now I gotta see this. You said they were behind Kitty’s? You think I can get a stormtrooper costume in 8 hours?”

“They’re not still gonna be there, Wade,” Peter huffed. “It’s 10 am.”

“You ain’t know that. What if Luke Skywalker’s a useless drunk, huh? You ever think of that?”

No.

“What’d he look like?”

Peter groaned.

“He looked like Luke Skywalker,” he said. “Blond hair, blue eyes—sort of like a chipmunk that forgot its stripes.”

“I’m onto you, Skywalker.”

Peter hung up to Wade’s cackle. He slouched low and tapped his pen against his desk. Then against his fingers.

He stared at the edge of his keyboard.

“What’s the weirdest thing you could imagine, Pete?” he asked himself.

 --

 PP: sam

SC: yeah?

PP: do you like star wars?

SC: nah

PP: you’re perfect

PP: do you believe in past lives?

SC: like spiritually or culturally? I know I was a cult-kid for a min there but before that we were Buddhists and like, past lives are part of the package

PP: that’s cool. What do you think of people being reborn as themselves again like, 500000000 years later? From a galaxy far far away?

SC: I don’t think about those people

PP: okay well, hypothetically. Let’s say that you were going to imagine someone who embodied that whole spirit. Who would it be?

SC: Buddha

PP: not buddha

SC: is this a riddle? Is it Jesus?

PP: THOR. Thank you this has been helpful ily bye

  Mr. Stark asked him over a cup of viciously black coffee why Peter was seeking out the demigod of his present nightmares.

That usually meant that he and Thor had disagreed on basic physics principles again. Peter took that also to mean that the demigod was still in the building. Possibly loose.

“He’s with Banner,” Mr. Stark said scathingly.

“Thanks, you’re amazing,” Peter said as he sailed out of the room.

 --

 Thor was sitting on Dr. Banner’s lab table, despite Dr. Banner telling him to get off no fewer than two times in the five minutes that Peter was in there, schmoozing and making pleasantries. He warmed Thor up to the home-run hit by asking him all about past lives and present lives and what the soul was on Asgard. Thor was only too happy to explain a load of nonsense that made Banner roll his eyes and poke at his muscles with a thermometer.

“So, hypothetically speaking,” Peter drawled in a very casual lean, “With the infinite galaxies and universes, etcetera, there could be one where Star Wars people exist. And so hypothetically, they could get reborn into a universe like ours.”

Thor blinked at him.

“You remember the laser swords?” Dr. Banner deadpanned.

Thor lit up.

“I suppose it’s possible,” he told Peter indulgently. “But if that was the case then it would be a long tragedy, no?”

…yes…

Say more, Thor-man.

“Well,” Thor said with a big, happy smile, “The series of events that unfolded in that story seemed to me to be one of triumph and tragedy. With one would come the other—that’s how these stories work, yes?”

…yes.

“So if Master Luke Skywalker and his companions arrived into our space here, then they must experience the same in order to be themselves,” Thor said, bobbing his head in pity. “Perhaps what would look like a new start for such people would result only in terror and disappointment until the same conclusion was reached.”

Peter felt his own grin twitch.

“So it’s not impossible?” he asked.

Both Thor and Banner looked at him quizzically at the same time.

“Peter?” Dr. Banner asked. “Is this coming from somewhere?”

Peter’s grin twitched so violently, it turned into a grimace that even superstrength would not let him maintain.

“Can I borrow one of you?” he asked.

 --

 Wade was not happy to be met outside of Kitty’s in the middle of the day, especially because his stormtrooper outfit, in his words, ‘did no justice for the size of his balls.’

Peter was ignoring that. He dragged Thor past Wade’s righteous anger until he was standing on the place where the other two had stood the night before. Thor stood there gamely.

“There,” Peter said. “Any like, energy signatures?”

Thor glanced around and shrugged.

Wade scowled at him and hounded him off the spot so that he could stand there instead.

“I feel nothing,” he said, devoid of emotion.

“Same,” Thor said.

Damnit.

“Perhaps you are—”

The Spidey Sense smashed through all of Peter’s sense and screamed at him to get to the street.

Get to the street. Get to the street. Get to the—

There.

Across the way. Chipmunk, no stripes.

That was the guy from the day before. He was on the opposite sidewalk smashed in with the crowd, dragging a hand through his hair and laden with a backpack and two separate totes. He was wearing a strange set of clothes—a mash of casual and formal—and seemed to be in a hurry, the type of hurry that involved pushing past folks at a half-jog and not stopping at streetlights.

“Got ‘im,” Peter hissed.

“No shit?” Wade asked over his shoulder.

Thor made a sound of interest.

“I see him, too,” he said. “What incredible energy, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Wh—

Peter whirled on him.

“Don’t you fucking say that,” he warned. “I’m gonna go distract. You two, on my six.”

 --

 Peter broke four traffic laws on his way around the block. He swung himself around a corner and fucked up the collar on his labcoat and counted to four before stepping out right into ‘Luke’s path.

They collided. Luke stumbled back and dropped one of his totes.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Peter blustered. “Are you okay?”

Luke swore and dropped down without answering, collecting the odd ends of metal that had clattered out from his bag and now rolled loose over the pavement. Peter stooped to join, gathering rings and pipes of all sorts of sizes in his hands. Oncoming folks gave them a wide berth.

It took a moment for Luke to realize what Peter was doing, but when he did, his shoulders went stiff as a board.

“DON’T TOUCH THOSE,” he snapped, just as Peter made to pick up a little plastic bag with a wad of tissue inside it.

Peter froze.

“Oh. Sorry,” he said.

This time, Luke finally met his eye.

“Oh, Jesus. No. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” Luke blustered, “Thank you. I’ll—I’ve got them. Thank you, though. It’s okay.”

He took the metal out of Peter’s hands and stuffed them back into his bag. He snatched the plastic bag before Peter could touch it and put that on top.

“Excuse me,” he said as he stood. “Thanks again.”

And just like that, he hurried off past Peter down the pavement.

Peter watched him go.

“Catch?” Wade asked softly from the corner.

“Negative,” Peter said, reaching into his sleeve and holding up the thin aluminum tube he’d hidden up there by the edge of his shirt-sleeve.

It was shiny and longer than he’d expect for any plumbing project. The inside appeared to be coated with some sort of heavy, non-reactive material, and half of the outside had grooved bands carved into it.

“Someone’s building something,” he said.

“Mid-century sink?” Wade asked, taking the tube.

“Nope,” Peter said.

 --

 NL: That is a lightsaber hilt

NL: where did you get that? It’s like mega accurate. Was it etsy?

PP: I stole it

NL: give it back

PP: I can’t I stole it from Luke Skywalker.

NL: Peter.

NL: we talked about this.

PP: He’s Luke Skywalker. I swear on the grave of my mother

MJ: this is a problem. This is now an intervention.

PP: I will prove it. If he’s Luke Skywalker, then he will do ANYTHING to get this thing back.

NL: and if not?

PP: then I will wait two days before politely tracking down his home address and then I will return it via wall crawling

JS: UM

JS: SORRY

JS: PETER CAN YOU CALL ME?

PP: no

NL: no

MJ: no

JS: are

JS: are you sure??? Because there’s a guy in Reed’s lab right now talking to him and Sue, asking SUPER politely for access to—I shit you not—the crystals we picked up from that space trip the other day???

NL: …

PP: …

MJ: …

PP: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

MJ: fake

NL: no way

PP: WHAT’S HIS NAME, JOHNNY BOY????

JS: I can’t

PP: nope you gotta

JS: I can’t I’m gonna cry I didn’t ask for this

MJ: out with it

NL: please say it’s obi-wan

JS: HHHHHHHHHHH

JS: nope

JS: just a guy named Ben 🙃

PP: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

PP: I told you motherfuckers

JS: right. So like. Awkward. But you uh, know that hilt thing you have?

PP: …is Obi-Wan Kenobi about to beat my ass, Johnny?

 --

 There was something about putting the hilt into the palm of someone more famous than Captain America that made Peter’s knees weak.

It did not help that Luke Skywalker had flirted with him the other night.

It did not help that Luke Skywalker didn’t recognize him as Spiderman.

Nothing helped, really, especially when those big topaz eyes lifted and Peter could see that their rims were red and raw.

“Thanks,” Luke Skywalker—the embodiment of hope itself—said in a soft, defeated rasp.

Every alarm in Peter’s head said to save him. Save him from what? How? Who knew.

Ned and MJ seemed to feel the same way, if the pressure on each of his arms was anything to go by.

“Well, that’s all cleared up, then. Thank you so much for your help; it is deeply appreciated,” a stupidly pleasant gentleman with a perfectly combed beard and lovingly coifed light hair said to the room at large.

Obi-Wan Kenobi—pardon, Ben Kennedi—was far more handsome than any movie could ever dream to make him. What they’d done to him in the 1970s, Peter saw now, was a fucking crime. He watched as this beautiful human being set a warm hand on Luke Skywalker’s—pardon, Luke Naberry’s—shoulder and used it to steer him towards the Baxter Building’s front entrance.

He watched as the two of them, like true Master and Padawan, stepped out onto the landing and opted for the stairs. For one fleeting, unbelievable second, Luke looked back over his shoulder at all of them before taking the next step after his Master.

He was right the other night.

He wasn’t the only jedi. Not anymore.

“So that just happened,” Sue acknowledged for everyone after the door had clicked closed and the sound of footsteps had faded off to nothing.

“I’m going to cry,” Reed announced.

“This is single-handedly the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Ned said.

“Obi-Wan Kenobi walked into our kitchen,” Reed told Sue like she hadn’t been there right next to him.

“The empire is trying to establish itself under our very feet,” Sue said back a little viciously.

“The real empire,” Reed whimpered.

Wait.

No, go back.

“For real?” Peter asked.

Sue and Reed looked back at the rest of them and then exchanged a look.

 --

 Peter was sad now. Depressed and laid out on his side staring back at Valeria’s huge eyes on the floor while Ned and MJ and Johnny asked Reed and Sue two hundred clarifying questions.

Peter didn’t need the specifics. He was thinking back on the conversation that he’d witnessed between Luke and Han Solo—Han Solo who was tall with dark hair and dark eyes and an accent straight out of New Jersey. Solo who had probably been charged with forcing Luke to face the facts in front of all of them because he was the one who Luke trusted most.

But it had shattered them—both of them.

The New Hope had given up everything. He was tired. His heart was torn. He was jaded just like Peter had been that same night. He’d been avoiding the tightrope that Peter had already started crossing, though, probably looking for every possible way to not have to set the first foot on that wobbly line.

He’d walked it before.

Valeria reached out with a chubby, round hand and touched the side of Peter’s face.

“Spiderman,” she said with terrifying understanding, “Someone needs help.”

He wriggled in close enough to bonk heads with her.

“Baby Storm,” he whispered, “I think you’re right.”

  --

MJ thought that Peter needed to leave things alone. She pointed out that he had plenty of problems without getting involved in universe-saving. She gestured to Johnny and volunteered him for the job.

Johnny refused on account of needing to be the prettiest blond in any room. He claimed that if he wasn’t, he had to fight for dominance.

Ned was on the other end of the spectrum. He had 43 reasons why Peter should get involved with things, and 40 of them ended up in the same place which was ‘it would be cool.’

One of Ned’s better reasons, however, involved pointing out that Peter had already stolen half of a lightsaber. He was good and involved now, whether he wanted to be or not. And that was enough for Peter to decide to go on a hunt to give a formal apology.

He recruited Ned to help him locate Luke Skywalker.

That didn’t work.

They tried Luke Naberry.

That didn’t work either.

They ended up going through every possible iteration of every Star Wars name they knew and then filtered out the people who’d been named by exuberant parents and then filtered out anyone who didn’t live in New York and they ended up with fat lot of still nothing.

It was like Luke Skywalker didn’t truly exist in this world.

Until MJ found his Instagram by typing in ‘guys who look weirdly like Luke Skywalker.’

She held the phone aloft in triumph and they all gathered round to gape in awe at her intelligence and research skills.

Luke’s Instagram was nothing but pictures of coffee.

He had one selfie and this selfie was enough to have gotten him onto a BuzzFeed article. In it he was holding—you guessed it—coffee. Iced coffee. One in each hand.

He was shaking them, and one had been labeled with his name—hence the public connection made.

“Someone needs to tell him that coffee is not a food group,” Johnny observed.

“Maybe he works nights,” MJ said.

Ned lifted an eyebrow.

“Maybe this is his job,” he said.

There was a pause.

Some snooping revealed that Luke was an honest to god food website editor. He was a cameraman.

Repeat. Luke Skywalker, cameraman. He filmed all the food hosts for his company’s Youtube channel. He edited videos. He more or less blended into the background of everything, while having his finger prints on damn near everything.

This was a man after Peter’s own soul. They were kindred spirits in hidden identities, content creation, and suffering under a boulder of responsibility too great to cope with.

He had to find him now.

And after they had his Instagram it wasn’t too hard. He seemed to hang out in various parts of the Bronx and Peter just so happened to know some folks out that way.

 --

 Louis told Peter that he would never speak to him again if he found, befriended, and then didn’t share Luke Skywalker (the man, the real man, I’m not fucking with you, Louis). But he also recognized a place on Luke’s instagram that he seemed to be working his way through the menu of. He sent along an address and told Peter not to forget his promises.

Angel asked why he was looking for Johnny Storm in the Bronx.

Peter left Louis to rattle sense into her.

He took a walk on Saturday morning. A long walk. A long train ride, then a walk, then a half hour of squinting, and then, lo and behold, he found a blond guy banging his head into the center of an out door metal table across from a woman with heavy braids trailing down the sides of her neck. She was much older than him and drummed white-painted fingernails across her cheek as she thought.

Peter hid and called Ned and MJ for an ID. He peeked the phone’s camera out enough for them to see the other two and then snatched it back.

Ned was about to flip a table.

“That’s clearly Ahsoka Tano,” he said. “She—the braids, dude. Dead give-away. And she put ribbons in them, like what even is discretion?”

Peter didn’t know that person. He continued not to know this person, even as Ned dragged him through a trainwreck of Star Wars lore.

“So she’s a friend,” he said.

“She’s like a jedi, but not like a jedi, she was a jedi, but then she said ‘fuck the order’ and—”

Great. Peter was approaching.

Ned held his face in his hands. MJ told Peter to report back on his findings. Peter ended the call and inched closer, weaving through the crowd and slipping into the coffee joint to see what nonsense they were selling.

It was nonsense with lots of syrup. He could never say no to syrup.

He watched the two outside while waiting for his order. Luke gesticulated to his friend and she spoke, giving reasonable gestures back. He stopped her and dug out his phone and that little plastic baggy full of fluffy material. He answered his phone. His friend took the little bag and held it up to the light.

She frowned at it.

Luke pushed away from the table and walked away to take his call. Peter’s order was called. He grabbed it and swerved out towards the patio.

“Hello,” he said at the edge of Luke and his friend’s table. “Is this seat taken?”

Luke’s friend stared at him.

“It is,” she said. “Move along, hon, you’re ten years too young.”

Wow.

“For your friend?” Peter tried. “Could I leave my number?”

He had this lady’s attention now. She was looking him up and down, appraising. Peter tried not to flex. He stayed cool. Matt-levels of cool. He smiled winningly.

“Alright, why not?” she said, digging through her bag for a receipt and a pen. Peter beamed as he leaned down to scrawl his number down on the back. He got halfway through before he heard a step stop nearby.

“Look alive, kid,” Luke’s friend said. “Hey, Luke, this guy was just—”

“You again?” Luke said.

Peter lifted his head and brows.

“Hi,” he said. “I just wanted to apologize.”

There was a long silence.

Luke’s friend looked between them and then gave Luke a long, judgmental stare.

“You don’t have to,” Luke said. “Thanks, though. How did you find me here?”

Mmm. Beginner’s luck.

“Here,” Peter said, offering his number on the receipt. “If you ever need someone to talk to who gets it.”

Luke’s friend bit her lip and looked away in secondhand embarrassment. Peter ignored her for now.

“Thanks,” Luke said. “You don’t and you won’t. But you’re very pretty.”

Nice.

“You’d be surprised,” Peter told him. “Gimme a text. I’ll leave y’all alone now. Enjoy your coffee.”

He left. But not before hearing, “but that ass, Luke.”

 --

 Ned told him that there was no way that Luke was ever going to text him and he was disappointed in Peter’s hostage-taking skills.

But he was proved wrong two hours later and, for his crimes, had to admit Peter’s brilliance publicly.

 LS: hi sorry. This is Luke. This morning when you stopped by our table, did you happen to see a little plastic bag on it?

 Why yes. The one in Peter’s pocket right now? That bag?

 PP: hi!! I did, actually. You guys aren’t very subtle 😏

LS: it’s not coke

PP: I’m not judging

LS: no, it’s not coke, I swear. It’s something INFINITELY more important. Did you happen to see if it had fallen on the ground?

PP: ah, no, sorry. I didn’t see it

PP: OH NO

PP: oh my god I’m so sorry, I think I took it with me when I accidentally took your friend’s pen.

LS: I

LS: what’s your name?

PP: Peter ❤

LS: Peter, you have a fucking problem

LS: I’m starting to think that you want something from me. And listen, you’re a handsome guy, but I’m not available and my type isn’t kleptomaniac. What do you want for it?

PP: well you got me

PP: to talk

LS: about what?

PP: mostly about why you look like you’re a wet phonebook in a bad gutter

LS: a phonebook???? What era are you even from????

PP: I could say the same to you, sir.

LS: I

LS: wh

LS: alright touche. The point is that I’m not going to talk to you. I just need that bag back. It’s a life and death situation.

PP: what are they? They aren’t coke crystals.

LS: how would you know?

PP: what are you, a cop?

LS: NO. This is going nowhere. What. Do. You. Want?

PP: To. Talk.

LS: I’m not going to talk to you.

PP: then why did you ask me to rescue you?

 He held his breath.

 LS: I didn’t

PP: you did

LS: I didn’t ask you for shit. This is it. What’s your last name.

PP: Man 😊

LS: Man what

PP: That’s my last name.

LS: Peter Man.

PP: oop, nope, sorry. That’s someone else.

LS: …so I’m calling the police, now. That’s what we’re saying?

PP: depends. Do you still need to be rescued?

 Come on, Skywalker. Come on, remember.

 LS: I never asked you to rescue me.

PP: You did. Think back.

LS: I didn’t

LS: I just made a joke to

LS: WHAT AFAJSDFA DTTH E FUCK

 Peter cackled and let himself fall onto his back.

 PP: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii ❤

LS: YOU’RE

PP: Just your friendly neighborhood guy ❤

LS: YOU

LS: you

PP: me

LS: THAT’s how the storms knew you

PP: yep 💋

LS: I don’t even know what to say

PP: it’s okay, you don’t have to say shit. The main thing I wanted you to know was that I hear you. And if you need it, I’ve got you.

LS: You’re literally trying to rescue me??

PP: it’s my job

LS: IT ISN’T. How have you never been arrested? how did you find me? Did you track my phone? Is it some kind of spider thing???

PP: yes

LS: I am legally obligated to kill you with the force now

PP: harder daddy

LS: ADaaSDASFSDFSdd

LS: oh my god Han is going to lose his gourd

LS: I’m sorry I just I can’t believe you of all people stole my damn hilt

PP: I’ve got……………………..sticky fingers

LS: go die

LS: no I didn’t mean that sorry that’s a thing with me and my sister. I mean, okay. You got me. Hero of NYC.

 Peter’s cheeks were starting to hurt.

 PP: I’ll bring them back to you.

LS: Please do, Ben’s about to have a stroke.

PP: you mean obi-wan?

LS: he’s convinced his cat ate them. There’s a staring contest happening. No one has blinked in two minutes and I don’t want to be here for the internal investigation.

PP: where do you live?

 Luke sent an address. Peter held his phone high and walked it into the living room where Ned was bitchily composing an Instagram post. He and MJ looked up at the same time.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Peter said. “Luke Skywalker and Co. live in a cemetery.”

 --

 It wasn’t a cemetery. It was a funeral home, but close enough.

Luke was waiting outside on the stoop in a cardigan about four sizes too big for him. It was there probably to protect him from the equally large ragdoll cat in his arms.

Peter smiled. Luke stared at him and then shook his head and went through the screen door. Ned gave Peter a biting look.

“Made friends, I see,” he said.

“We’re doin’ great,” Peter told him, hopping up the stairs. “Look at us, totally—”

“Insidious.”

Peter stopped and turned nervously to see through the screen door where Obi-Wan Kenobi had seized both of the cat’s cheeks. Luke continued to hold it with maximum doneness levels.

“Where have you been?” Obi-Wan asked the cat seriously.

“We have guests,” Luke said. “Take your beast.”

Obi-Wan snatched the cat out of Luke’s arms with contempt all over his face.

“You are a villain of the highest order,” he told it.

“Ben. Guests. Please evacuate. I am hosting negotiations,” Luke said.

“We should have named you ‘Sith.’”

“Ben.”

Peter was not going to laugh at Obi-Wan Kenobi. That was too surreal.

“Come in,” Luke said, returning to hold open the screen. “I hope you’re not allergic. There are two of them.”

T-two?

“The other one is Junior.”

Peter stepped over the threshold and found himself in a room that looked like a human birdhouse. It was full of surfaces that were almost completely empty, as though an enrichment object had once lived there but had been removed as punishment. Luke waved Ned and MJ in and accepted their apologies on Peter’s behalf.

Peter ignored them to lock eyes with a creature more stunning than any he had ever encountered. It sat on the kitchen counter by a single clear jar labelled ‘Not Spice.’ It blinked grumpy green eyes.

“Oh, it’s these people again?”

They all looked behind them to see Obi-Wan peering around a doorframe with the first cat draped over his shoulders.

“Kleptomaniac,” Luke said, pointing at Peter. Peter waved.

“Huh,” Obi-Wan said simply. “I will distract Ahsoka.”

He vanished. Luke grimaced after him.

“Let’s go talk in the back,” he said. “There are no bodies, I promise.”

 --

 The funeral home had a little deck and a yard small even for this far out in Queens. It was crammed full of plants that appeared to be in a competition to bloom. Luke invited them to sit and then left to make coffee.

Coffee, yes, how had Peter forgotten.

He peeked over the side of the deck down where there was a large stone set in the center of the garden.

“A seeing stone,” Ned whispered to him.

“Oh, how did you know?”

They all jumped.

Peter swore that Obi-Wan hadn’t opened that sliding door. How had—what—

Ned was at a loss for words in the face of one of his greatest heroes.

“I—uh. M-movie? I mean, sorry. It was in The Mandalorian, second season, with the—”

“Yet more television,” Obi-Wan said derisively.

They all stared.

“Can you teleport?” MJ asked him.

“I thought you were bothering Ahsoka?” Luke asked, from inside. He squeezed past the man and his cat with three glass mugs in hand. He set them down on the little square table off to the side of the desk railing.

“I was, but then I got curious,” Obi-Wan said. “And I lost Junior.”

Luke stared at him.

“I’m going to lock you in the basement,” he said.

“Try, try, and try again,” Obi-Wan told him, petting his beloved cat’s head.

“Do you even know who Spiderman is, old man?”

“More television.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Peter had to keep a conscious watch on his jaw, lest it fall open in the face of the most handsome, clueless man on the planet. He watched as Obi-Wan, disgusted with all this ‘television’ nonsense skulked back off into the guts of the home. Luke shut the door behind him.

“So,” he said, holding out his hand. “We’re talking. Fork ‘em.”

Ah.

Fair was fair.

Peter produced the plastic bag from his pocket and handed it over. There was a shout somewhere inside followed by someone going ‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’

“Ben keeps our home ghost free. He terrifies all the wannabee haunters,” Luke said simply. “Thank you for these. I imagine it’s somewhat of a shock to learn that it’s all real.”

It was, but it wasn’t the weirdest thing Peter had encountered by far.

“How long have you lived in New York?” he asked conversationally.

Luke gave him a weird brow.

He seemed smaller than before in that enormous cardigan. Certainly smaller than the movies made him seem. His face was a little thinner too, and his lips seemed to slope into an almost permanent pout.

“About twenty years,” he said. “We were born in California, but Anakin moved us here when we were eight.”

Anakin? Like, Darth Vader, Anakin?

“’Luke, I am your father’—yeah, that guy,” Luke said with a scoff. “Except, you know, he ain’t dead. And he’s the only one who can make Ben remember that tea isn’t a meal, so we keep him around for that and to scream back at Leia.”

Peter was already completely lost to the dynamics of this household. It wasn’t like the books and movies—Ned’s twitching for his phone to take notes was proof enough of that.

“That’s awkward,” MJ said. “So did y’all do like, collective counselling for the past life shit?”

Luke deflated and moaned into his hands.

“It’s not past life shit if your damn name is the same,” he said. “It’s complicated.”

It sounded like it.

Imagine growing up with your apparently-Star War-obsessed father and uncle who’d built a home and a business (presumably) around that shit, only to find out later that they’d done it because it was literally their religion.

What a trip.

“When did you find out?” Peter asked gently.

“Oh, you know. Last week,” Luke said with a bitter grin. “Quit my fulltime job. Dumped my ex. Broke my lease and now here I am. Once again. Back at this place.”

“Do you want a hug?” Ned asked into the awkward silence.

“You’re very sweet,” Luke said. “If I touch another human, I will start crying and never stop.”

Yikes.

Barely holdin’ on by a thread there, buddy? How’s the hyperawareness going?

“Why does it matter, is my question. For you, I mean,” Luke said with a suspicious squint. “You fought a goblin guy, didn’t you? With a hover board?”

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh, yeah.

Yeah, Peter sure had done that.

“And like, the bird dude? Didn’t you down a plane?”

Perhaps.

But Luke had blown up the Deathstar, no?

“These things are not equivalent,” Luke said flatly. “I joined a rebel alliance. There were loads of us.”

Mmm. Perhaps so.

“God, how old are you even? You look 22.”

Peter gawked.

“I’m 27,” he said.

Luke did a double-take.

“That’s a lie,” he accused. “Tell the truth or be compelled.”

“By the Force?” Ned asked hopefully.

Luke blinked at him. He pointed at the glass sliding door which revealed Obi-Wan holding Junior the cat above his head by the kitchen sink.

“The Force,” he said.

Ned’s face fell.

“Do we not have the Force, here?” he asked.

Luke flinched.

“Listen,” he said abruptly, “We’re workin’ on it. This isn’t our original galaxy. The rules are all different. The only one who’s managed to make even a spark happen is Obi-Wan so far, but as soon as we find Master Yoda, it’s over. We’ll already have won.”

“You lost Yoda,” MJ mused.

Luke stammered and caught himself.

“We lost a lot of people,” he snapped. “It happens when you shift galaxies. Anyways, that’s what the stone is for.”

MJ glanced back at the stone and then leaned her forearms onto the small table.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said. “You jedi folks all popped up over here by some cosmic accident. You don’t have the Force. Most of you don’t even remember who you are. You lost your most experienced Master, and you’re going to fight the Sith?”

Peter stirred his coffee nervously.

Luke’s eye twitched.

“We don’t need the others,” he said. “We only need the Force. To fight the Sith. Yes.”

MJ frowned deep and held her chin with both hands.

“So you need the thing you for sure don’t have the most,” she said.

Luke opened his mouth, but not before the window by the door snapped open and Obi-Wan leaned out to say, “We always have the Force.”

Luke covered his face in despair.

“I was listening from the kitchen window,” Obi-Wan told him lovingly.

“GO FIND CODY ALREADY,” Luke roared at him.

“I did, he’s right here,” Obi-Wan said soothingly, stroking his angry cat.

“The other Cody.”

“Oh, I am trying, don’t you worry.”

“Ben, so help me God—”

“Force.”

“SO HELP ME FORCE—”

Star Wars had really left out the part about Luke’s explosive temper. Peter winced, but Ned laughed and the sound seemed to have a calming effect on Jedi-on-Jedi crime about to take place in the kitchen. Obi-Wan appeared pleased with this development and emboldened. He wove past Luke out onto the desk and came over, cat and all, to point down to the seeing stone in the middle of the garden.

“Others who feel the Force’s energy will be drawn to it,” he told Ned fondly. “It’s how we got Luke back home.”

“It’s not,” Luke said. “You called me.”

“And so others will also come,” Obi-Wan said with confidence. “The most important thing is that we believe in the Force. And from that, we will find guidance and power and—”

“He means Yoda,” Luke translated. “He’s been putting frogs on it as an offering, even though me, Ahsoka, and Anakin told him that this is a human’s world. A human’s world, Ben. Even if he did eat them, he’s not eating them raw.”

“Don’t be discouraged by Luke’s attitude, he is very stressed,” Obi-Wan told Ned and Ned only affectionately. “I told him not to be, you see there are four of us here already, and the Chosen One is among us.”

“Anakin told you to stop calling him that,” Luke moaned, massaging his temples.

“He was the first to be aware of our present situation,” Obi-Wan said.

“He took a hallucinogen and had a paranoid breakdown,” Luke pleaded. “Ben, please. Go inside. Think of your blood pressure.”

“Perhaps, but it was a useful breakdown, was it not?”

“I am so sorry for him, he’s getting senile,” Luke said to the rest of them.

“Your energy is different,” Obi-Wan informed Peter out of absolutely nowhere. “Are you also Force-sensitive? Were you drawn to the stone?”

Er.

No.

Sorry?

“He’s Spiderman,” Luke said, gesturing pointedly. “Remember Spiderman?”

Obi-Wan did not. Peter suspected, actually, that Obi-Wan still used phonebooks, if he used phones at all, that was.

Luke took a deep breath and let it out.

“Okay, let me just lay it out,” he said. “We’re doing the best we can with what we have. You don’t have to get involved with this. We appreciate your help, but what would help us even more is if you stay out of it, alright?”

Yeah, okay. Sure. Peter could respect that.

“Amazing. And don’t tell other people.”

Understood.

“Unless they’re Force-sensitive,” Obi-Wan said. “In which case, ask them how they feel about rocks.”

Luke just stared at him coldly this time.

“You didn’t used to be like this,” he said dangerously.

“No, I used to be stressed,” Obi-Wan told him. “But you and Ani are doing that for me, so I have resolved to be a free spirit. Nice to meet all of you. Have more coffee. I don’t like this one; I will have it out of the house by sundown.”

He left, and possibly for good this time. No one knew what to say in his absence.

“So,” Peter tried, desperate for something to break up the tension. “You said a few days ago that you were looking for someone?”

Luke finally stopped making growling faces towards the sliding door. He lit up like a bulb.

“I am, actually,” he said.

 --

 Luke was looking for a very particular person named ‘Din.’ He described him as ‘six feet tall and covered in armor.’ He asked if they knew of such a person.

Peter had to shove a hand against his mouth in case he made an unwanted connection between this description and Obi-Wan behavior.

“Haven’t,” MJ said. “Who is he?”

“My husband,” Luke said.

Ned choked.

Peter choked.

MJ tilted her head.

“You have a husband?” she asked. “I would have remembered a husband in that series.”

Luke leaned his chin on his palm and gazed sideways over the city. He seemed to sigh.

“I don’t know why he isn’t connected to me in the media created here,” he said. “It’s probably because he’s always been very shy.”

Oh, aw. Peter loved that. The contrast between them was heart-warming.

“We had a son together,” Luke said. “His child. He brought him to me. One of my students, at first.”

Hang on a minute here.

Peter exchanged a glance with Ned. Ned tried very hard to pick a way to approach this sensitively. He landed on asking, “What was his name again?”

“Din,” Luke said. “Din Djarin.”

Ned cringed.

“He was a Mandalorian,” Luke explained. “Very, very, very shy. Like, he would rather chew off his own leg than make small talk with a stranger. I think, before I knew all this, I was still subconsciously looking for him. All my exes are the same type.”

That—

Okay, so like.

Did these people own a TV?

“Do we look like we own a TV?” Luke deadpanned. “No. If Ben senses anything bigger than a datapad happening in this place, he’s driven to madness and breaks it.”

UH?

“He doesn’t actually break it,” Luke sighed. “He just finds a way to make it unusable—putting clothes on it, disconnecting the monitor, that kind of thing. He thinks they waste electricity.”

What a guy. Peter wanted to put him and May in a room and see what conspiracies they could spin together.

“Why do you ask?” Luke asked.

Ned cleared his throat.

“Do you have a, uh, datapad, then?” he asked.

 --

 “DIN. That’s DIN. He’s got his own show. Oh my god, that’s—stay right there. Don’t move.”

Bless this man. Peter wanted to hug him so bad. They’d lost him to the staircase leading up from the second floor to the attic. Peter wondered who he was showing the tablet to.

Maybe Obi-Wan?

“I told you this already,” a voice up there said.

“LOOK AT HIM.”

“You’re killin’ me, smalls. We had this exact conversation last week. Did you forget?”

“You knew where he was.”

“Alright, alright. Downward march.”

Anakin fucking Skywalker came down the stairs with a handful of Luke’s shirt in one hand and the tablet shoved under his other arm. He paused and frowned at the three of them in the kitchen frozen in shock, and then apparently decided that that didn’t matter. He carried on dragging Luke with him towards the kitchen counter. He dropped the tablet onto it and Peter realized that the lower half of his sleeve on that side was empty.

He watched as the guy let go of Luke and chased the not-angry cat off the counter, cursing.

“Alright, this?” he said, tapping on the tablet. “Is the link I put here.” He rapped the same finger on what Peter now saw was a whiteboard covered in rows upon rows of symbols that he’d never seen before.

“Din here? Din here. You see?” Vader told Luke with untold patience.

“I can’t read that,” Luke moaned. “You lied to me.”

“It’s up in the kitchen, Luke.”

“You’re a liar and a cad. Do it in Basic.”

“This is Basic.”

Oh, dear. All that fanfic about Luke meeting Darth Vader and having a breakdown was looking real embarrassed now, wasn’t it?

“If it’s Basic, why can’t I read it?” Luke demanded.

“Because, like I told you last night, the night before, and the night before that,” Vader said painstakingly, “It doesn’t all come back at once. It’s going to take time.”

“We don’t have time,” Luke snapped.

Vader leaned his head back with half-lidded eyes. Luke didn’t look even remotely like his kid, even with him looking all pre-quels-like now.

“We talked about this, too, remember?” Vader asked.

Obviously not. Luke was distressed. He had eyes only for the tablet now.

“No, of course not, silly me,” Vader said. “Why are humans here?”

“Ahsoka went home,” Luke said.

“Thank you, that was not my question.”

“What was your question?”

“Why are non-order humans here?”

“I told you, Ahsoka went—”

“Son, I will kill you if you continue to act like Obi-Wan,” Vader said without missing a beat.

“You can try,” Luke said offhandedly. “But only one of us has two handed grip.”

There was a long stare.

“It’s Obi-Wan,” Vader told him. “Why do we have living guests?”

He gestured back to Peter, Ned, and MJ like they were flies on a set of blinds.

“Oh, because that’s Spiderman and he stole your kyber crystals,” Luke said.

Vader rounded on Peter, and Peter actually felt fear.

Vader blinked once.

“This may as well happen,” he decided somehow placidly. “I’m going back upstairs. Where did your grand-master go?”

“Into the mist,” Luke said. “Can you feel Din?”

“Negative, ghostrider.”

“When the Force chooses you first out of favoritism, can you feel for Din?”

“Ah yes, can I feel for your Force-repellant life partner with all of the Force energy that I do not have? Yes, I sure can.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime, primary monstrosity of my loins.”

UM?

This felt a little hostile for Peter’s tastes. Not that it wasn’t earned. Clearly it was earned. It was just horrifying.

“Guests, you are dismissed,” Vader said in their direction. “Unless you’re drawn to the rock outside, in which case, you may stay. Otherwise, do not darken this doorstep again, or else we will leave you with the other dead in the morgue.”

“Thanks for bringing the crystals,” Luke said from behind him. “And for talking. I do feel better, actually.”

 --

 They left the funeral home. Obi-Wan was outside by the mailbox as though waiting for them. Peter wasn’t sure he had any emotional energy left to approach him with.

“Thank you for speaking to Luke,” he said as the three of them attempted to pass unnoticed. “It’s good for him to talk to others his own age.”

Uh-huh. Good night, sir?

“Good night, Peter, Ned, and Michelle.”

They hadn’t given their names.

They definitely hadn’t given their names.

 --

 Ned wasn’t sleeping for two years. He made this clear with a lot of clapping gestures and then rolled around on the floor, talking about all kinds of shit that Peter couldn’t decipher. MJ watched him and flicked her eyes up to Peter with concern on her forehead.

“That family is cinematically dysfunctional,” she said.

Correct.

“They’re barely their own characters.”

Correct.

“What now?”

Peter wasn’t sure. The best he could think of was to just keep an eye on the situation. Maybe check in every couple of weeks?

“If you say so,” MJ said. “I think you made Ned’s life, by the way. Good job.”

 --

 Peter tried checking in every two weeks. It started because he happened to hear of a tunnel collapsing in Queens nearby the funeral home. He texted Luke to ask if he needed a save and all he got back was a ‘well, not anymore.’

After that, Peter kept a close eye on happenstances occurring around the city. There were more than he bargained for. And when he glanced at Luke’s Instagram after the first week after the tunnel collapse, he noted that two of the nails on the hand Luke held his coffee to the camera with had gone completely black.

That was worrying.

Peter was used to be the danger-prone asshole in his friendgroup. He did not like this role-reversal. MJ asked him sarcastically what the problem was.

He texted Luke again.

 PP: how many nails do you have left bro?

LS: we put a hole in one to release the pressure

PP: that don’t sound great bro.

LS: it’s fine. Oh, but good news

PP: oh?

LS: the most predictable thing ever has happened. The Vader has regained force power

PP: that’s worrying

LS: ? why?

PP: won’t he go dark?

LS: ah, no. He fucked up and raised me and Leia with Ben this time after our mom died. He had his chance to go dark and traded it for 8 consecutive hours of sleep instead.

PP: I truly don’t know what to say

LS: It’s fine we did 12 years of family therapy after the accident so we are no longer on the DSS watchlist

PP: I know less what to say

LS: he won’t find din :/

PP: is that your priority right now?

LS: aren’t you supposed to be spiderman or something? Don’t you have chaotic things to say?

PP: you know normally I do, this is literally out of character for me. but I think you also might be absorbing my chaos.

LS: that’s fair. I have that effect on people. Hey, is your buddy Ned available to chat? He knows more than I can remember about my old life. Can I borrow him?

 That sounded like a horrendous decision.

 PP: yeah let me get you his number.

LS: thanksssss

  --

Ned reported a few days later that his services were needed at the funeral home. He was leaving them all now to befriend Luke Skywalker as was his true destiny.

He came back a few hours later and reported that his services had been helpful and he was pleased to say that Darth Vader was now the official herder of ‘wans’ in the house. This included all Obi-Wans and padawans.

He seemed to be the only guy there who could like, retain information given to him for some reason. He accepted this as his lot in life and went around repeating the same things to the others ad nauseum until they finally stuck for them.

Peter wondered if that was his personal hell.

Ned didn’t think so. He thought the guy was pretty chill about it and had probably been doing it for a while now. He did it more for Ahsoka Tano and Luke than he did for Obi-Wan. Although that was probably because Obi-Wan appeared to be on a hunt that made all non-relevant information given to him slip off his back like water.

 --

 Another two weeks. Another text.

 PP: hey luke, I saw you drowning on the news. You okay?

LS: GOD my ex-workplace keeps calling welfare checks on our house. We’ve had more cops here then flies these last few days.

PP: ex-workplace is one way to refer to your old job. Sounds like they cared about you. What did you do?

LS: preschool teacher.

 Peter was going to lose his shit right here on this bed.

 PP: was that your calling?

LS: that was Luke Naberry’s calling. Luke Skywalker’s calling is to make the lightsaber go vrrrrrrm

PP: you honestly terrify me

LS: thanks han says the same thing. OH. HE FOUND CHEWIE.

PP: no shit??

LS: yeah I told Ned, not you. But yeah. He found him lugging boxes for a bodega. And now they both work at the same bodega. Which like, objectively, is a bad thing because Han was a UN translator.

PP: I’m

PP: sorry

PP: what?

LS: I know he was all respectable and shit. It was awful. I can look at him again without feeling like I’ve failed in every part of my life.

PP: dare I ask what your sister does?

LS: lawyer

PP: not senator?

LS: we’re not old enough to be senators.

PP: every moment becomes more concerning than the next. You fascinate me. This is why they put you in like, all the films.

LS: because I’m sexy yeah

PP: that too

LS: not to you. I’m off-limits bub. I’m married.

PP: how’s that going for you?

LS: Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

PP: I see. So no Din yet?

LS: I will find him if it kills me

PP: that’s so romantic. Hey you should watch that series. They gave him a little green yoda in it. Really cute.

LS: that’s my son you piece of shit

 There was no winning here.

 --

 MJ asked him a few weeks later if he was still keeping up with the Jedi drama since the whole city had recently decided that Peter was a snack.

Obviously he hadn’t.

She told him not to worry, Ned had. She told him to talk to Ned, so he went and talked to Ned with a heatpad in one hand and a coldpack in the other.

Ned patted at him sympathetically and informed him that Luke had reunited with the Force. It was going poorly for him, mostly because the Force wasn’t used to people being in touch with it in these parts of the universe. It kept telling each of the jedi that there was a disturbance and then luring them to each other to fight to the death.

Luke described it as the Force-equivalent of an auto-immune disease.  

They’d taken to gathering in the living room of the funeral home to meditate in a circle, as though to calm the Force’s anxiety while scenting each other for protection.

It had a 40% success rate. Everyone was sleeping in locked rooms for the time being, just in case someone got compelled to do something rash.

Peter asked Ned if he’d finally lost his crown as King Chaos of NYC.

Ned patted him on the knee more firmly than before and said that he could regain his crown by introducing a calming element into the jedi household.

Peter had his pride to defend, so he asked what that element ought to be.

  --

Din Djarin, the Mandalorian, the leader of all Mandalorians, was bound to have a name that looked nothing like the one they had for him. Luke nearly exploded when Peter approached him to asked him (and his taped fingers) more about who Din Djarin was outside the name.

They proceeded with caution, however. So far, Peter and Ned had discovered only dissonance between Luke’s account of his life partner (his ‘heart, stars, sun, and sand’) and the guy on the screen for the tv show. That was to be expected, given that they had met Luke now and learned of his somewhat explosive personality.

But even still, Luke’s description of Din Djarin as ‘kind, compassionate, tender, shy, emotionally stable, dependable, sweet, caring, and hunky’ seemed slightly biased.

Peter just wanted to know how tall this guy was. Hair color. Eye color. Skin color. Blood type. That kind of shit.

Luke said that Din had brown hair, brown eyes, Type Who Knows What blood, and was about six feet tall. He had no idea how much he weighed. He’d never had need for that information. He knew that Din was human, which was probably helpful in a galaxy far, far away. He knew that he spoke Mando’a as his first language, then Basic, then a whopping fifteen others. And he knew that Din was probably looking after their son.

Vader asked Peter over a mug of coffee (also labeled in the funeral home��s cabinet as ‘not spice.’) if Spidersenses could overcome a dearth of information. It took Peter a few moments to realize that he was sympathizing with him.

“You’re not going to find Din,” Vader told Luke. “You need to look for the kid. You’ll find the kid first, you always have.”

Luke took his coffee and poured it down the drain.

Peter decided that he didn’t want to get in between that burgeoning battle. He told Luke to text him if he remembered anything else.

  --

Wade was pissed that Peter had been meeting and ‘cavorting’ with Luke Skywalker without him. He claimed ownership of the Din Djarin mystery in order to cram himself into Luke’s good graces. But quickly, he ran into the same stumbling blocks as Peter.

Din Djarin was six feet tall with brown eyes and brown hair.

That was what they currently had to go on.

Wade would have torn out his hair if he had any, but he stopped himself and accepted the challenge. Peter watched over his shoulder as he chicken-pecked his way into a list of social security numbers held by the NYC State ID issuing department and started methodically filtering names that did not sound like ‘Din.’

He started broad with all ‘D’s and then narrowed it down further and further and further until he was left with a shitload of Daniels.

He stared at the screen before him and vibrated.

Peter massaged his shoulders before he cracked.

It helped. Wade started filtering by height, then by eye color. Then by hair, and only ended up with several hundred people.

He vibrated again, but this time, Peter couldn’t help him.

He sighed. Wade said that there had to be a better way to do this. He got up.

  --

Wade made about four thousand missing posters with the name Din Djarin on them which he recruited the whole team to plaster up around NYC. This was not a request.

Miles asked him why they were doing this for a tv character and had to be let in on the gig.

He lost his shit.

Louis tried to retain his shit.

Angel still didn’t know how the whole jedi thing worked.

Dave hummed and haw’ed and took his time in calling bullshit. Wade asked him to look deep into his eyes and ask if he was entertaining bullshit that fine evening.

Dave changed his opinion and took a stack.

  --

There was no way that shit was supposed to work. There was just no way. A) because Wade had the worst ideas of all mankind and B) because Peter had the worst luck of all mankind. So the two of them together should have destroyed all the prospects of success for that job.

But instead, while they were hatching a new plot involving setting up a sham sociological study for people who responded to Star Wars names, Wade’s phone went off.

He grabbed it and opened the message and lo and behold right there was a note that read,

“I hope you are not a reporting body because this is going to sound certifiably insane, but I think I might be the guy you’re looking for?”

Wade screamed.

Peter scolded him not to get too excited too soon. They had to see the man first.

Wade texted furiously, asking for a picture and got a message back that said, “please do not dox me.”

They got no answer until Wade promised not to dox the guy.

And then they got an image of a man with brown hair and brown eyes with olive skin. His face was remarkably square. The picture wasn’t just him, though, he had in his arms a little boy with a head covered in tight ringlets. His eyes were so dark they were nearly black and he was maybe two years old.

The caption said, “apologies, my son needed to be in the picture.”

Wade cooed and entered Dad Mode to ask how old the baby was and what he liked to do and Peter lost the fathers to that small talk for a while before Wade oh-so-casually asked, “So you feel like you’re from outer space?”

“It sounds strange,” the guy on the other said wrote back, “But I do. Like every day I wake up and look in the mirror and something is wrong. I feel like I’m always forgetting something when I leave the house. I watched the tv show of the guy who’s name was on your fliers and the kid in it reminds me so much of my son. It’s eerie. They make the same sounds. He made the same sounds before we even watched that show.”

Wade whistled.

“I think this is him, Pete,” he said. “He called Baby Yoda a ‘kid’ not a yoda.”

Peter stared. He hadn’t even caught that. That was smart as hell.

“So what now?” he asked.

Wade sniffed.

“Get Skywalker to send you a selfie,” he said.

  --

PP: Luke are you pretty right now?

LS: My face is intact

PP: take a selfie and send it to me

LS: cannot do that. Face is intact is a baseline situation. Let me find an old one. Oh, they all have my ex in them. This is awkward.

PP: it doesn’t matter I can crop it.

LS: no I have to be cute or I’ll perish hold on

PP: are you sure you’re not Johnny Storm?

LS: yes, he’s got loads of muscles. Sent.

 Selfie acquired.

Luke looked very smiley in it. His eyes were blown out from the lighting, but it showed his sloping smile and his low, back-set dimples. Peter sent it to Wade. Wade sent it to his new friend.

They waited.

They waited five minutes.

Then ten.

Then half an hour.

Then nearly two.

And finally, Wade’s phone rang. He picked it up and set it on speaker so that Peter could hear.

“Hello?” Wade said.

There was a long pause.

“Where did you get that picture?” a low, almost smoky voice demanded on the other side.

“A friend,” Wade said sleazily. “You know him? He’s a cute little thing, ain’t he?”

It took the dude on the other side of the line worryingly long to respond.

“What do you want?” he finally asked.

Wade brought his head down in interest.

“What’re you willing do to?” he asked.

They waited. Peter didn’t know what was taking this guy so long to—

“Anything.”

Ah.

Okay. That.

That sounded about right.

Wade cackled.

“You know his name?” he asked.

“I do,” the man said.

“What’s his name then, pal?” Wade asked.

“It’s none of your fucking business.”

Holy shit. Holy shit. Peter clutched the back of the couch. Wade was grinning so hard, Peter could see it through his mask.

“You want him, you need to show me that you know who he is,” Wade said. “I ain’t got ‘im here, but I know where he is. Come on, big boy. Who is he?”

Peter could hear the man take in a deep, shaky breath.

“His name is Luke,” Din fucking Djarin, the Mandalorian himself, said.

  --

Din fucking Djarin’s name at the moment was Danny Jabaran. He stood six feet tall with a medium build and that baby of his in his arms.

He was not afraid of Wade.

He was not afraid of Peter.

The suits didn’t scare him; this man was a space warrior. The leader of the space warriors. Peter was humbled to stand in his presence, old jeans and tattoos and all.

“Vigilantes,” he acknowledged.

“Deadpool,” Wade said, offering a hand. “And this is?”

“Grogu,” Djarin said.

Baby Yoda lifted his big liquid eyes up to Wade and blinked twice. Then he wriggled around and hid in Djarin’s neck. Djarin put a hand on his back and didn’t drop eye contact.

“Tell me everything,” Djarin said.

  --

Ned screamed. Michelle screamed. Peter reminded them that he had neighbors and invited Mr. Mand’alor to sit on the couch for a bit while he called Luke.

Michelle claimed the spot next to Djarin and asked Baby Yoda Grogu for his little hand. He studied her and hid again, making a prolonged sound of distress that Djarin cut off by saying, “Hey. Manners.”

This somehow made baby Grogu turn back to Michelle to stare at her offered hand.

He took it. She shook with him and then took hers away.

Grogu perked up and reached for it again.

“You’re the Mandalorian,” Ned said.  

Djarin looked right at him.

“A Mandalorian,” he corrected.

Ned blinked back tears.

“You’re so cool,” he creaked.

Djarin frowned.

“You...are too?” he tried.

Ned wept into a fist.

Peter left them to call Luke in his bedroom. Luke picked up on the third ring with the start of an ingrained greeting that sounded a whole lot like a customer service recording. He caught himself, though.

“I have someone I’d like you to talk to,” Peter said. “I think you might want to sit down.”

Luke’s unusual quiet on the other side made Peter grin.

“Are you sitting?” he asked.

“I’m sitting.”

“Alright, one moment,” Peter said, walking out into the living room. Djarin had edged far, far away from Ned, as far as he possibly could without being rude. He looked up when Peter came over and sat down on the arm next to him.

“Say hi,” Peter said.

Djarin frowned at him and then the phone.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

Peter waited. Djarin lifted his head over to see the phone’s screen.

“Hello?” he tried.

“Din?”

The Spidey Sense crashed through Peter like a tidal wave.

Djarin had gone completely still.

“Din? Is that you? Can you hear me?”

“Shit,” Djarin said, lifting a hand to cover his eyes. “Goddamnit. Jesus.”

“DIN.”

“Dank Fucking Farrik.”

“Oh my god.”  

Baby Grogu’s face snapped toward the phone with huge eyes. He grabbed at Djarin’s collar, then his jaw and started bouncing a little in his arms.

“Bu?” he asked.

Djarin couldn’t make himself move.

“Grogu?” Luke asked. “Hey, baby, is that you, bubba?”

Grogu grabbed Djarin’s face urgently, so that he couldn’t hide his raw eyes anymore.

He pointed at the phone.

“Yeah, I hear ‘im, kid,” Djarin said.

“MMMMM. Gib.”

“Ah. That’s not ours. We don’t grab. We ask,” Djarin reminded as Grogu pleaded for the phone. Peter snickered and gave it to him. He just held it, staring.

“Do you wanna see him?” Peter asked. “Luke, can we maybe video chat?”

“Y-yeah,” Luke said. “Hold on. Oh god, my face. Uh, hey Din are you still near-sighted, hon?”

Djarin huffed a laugh that turned into a whole-body tremor.

“I got contacts,” he said a little hysterically.

“You got WHAT?” Luke yipped, “Okay, no. No, I gotta. Be still, this heart. Okay let me just take off the butterflies. On moment, Grogu, Daddy’s just gotta dunk his face in the damn sink.”

MJ bounced her eyebrows at Peter as he gently took the phone back from Grogu and tapped on the camera. He offered it back the kid and received a deep gaze of wonder in return. Djarin turned the screen right-side up in his hands.

Luke finally turned his camera on and revealed himself to be very swollen in the jaw with damp hair and a cut very close to the rim of his left eye.

Grogu screeched.

Luke laughed.

“Look at you,” he said, “I’m gonna cry. Oh my god. Where’re your ears, pal?”

Grogu analyzed this reaction for 2 full seconds and then shoved the camera right into his dad’s forehead. Djarin took it from him and liberated himself so that he could see Luke who was clutching at his face, absolutely already sobbing, bless him.

He looked up to see Grogu and instead got Djarin and finally just broke right in half.

Peter swallowed back the growing lump in his throat. His eyes were starting to warm a little.

Djarin found a watery smile in himself.

“I know you’re not cryin’ because of me,” he said gently.

“Where’s your helmet?” Luke sobbed, wiping viciously at his eyes. “People are watching, you harlot.”

“I know,” Djarin said. “I lost it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Luke.”

“This is all my fault. I should’ve—I should’ve—”

“Luke,” Djarin said again, full of warmth, “You died for us.”

Luke shook harder than ever.

“There is no greater sacrifice a warrior can make,” Djarin told him. “I was honored for you to have made it for me and our son. This has always been the Way.”

“This is the Way,” Luke stammered.

“I missed you,” Djarin said. “Where in God’s name have you been?”

“I was a preschool teacher in the Bronx, man, I dunno what happened,” Luke said tipping his face up to force the tears back in.

“In the Bronx? Where?”

“Uh, off Allerton and Lurting?”

Djarin started shaking with laugher.

“I work off Laconia and Mace,” he said.

“You what?”

“We’ve been blocks apart this whole time.”

Awwwwww.

“I’m going to stab myself,” Luke moaned. “I’m going to stab myself in the arm. I was right there and I sold out for my part-time gig barely weeks ago. Oh my god. I’m going to—move, old man, I’m suffering—Wait. Din, did you find your parents?”

Djarin stood up and held the phone out straight.

“Where are you right now?” he asked.

  --

Look at all these people hugging each other.

Look at them crying all over. There was a baby in there, wailing because he was so happy to be back in the arms of his other dad.

Aww. AWWWW. Peter was getting emotional again, he was going to see himself out.

“Wait. Peter.”

He looked up to find Luke holding a hand to him.

“Thank you,” he said. “You really are a superhero, you know that?”

Yeah.

Sometimes, he did.

 --

 The city had plenty of problems as it was, yeah, more now with a bunch of jedi running around, linking up with each other and spreading memory like mushroom spores. But it didn’t feel that much different.

What it felt like now was Ned showing Grogu how to hold his hand at the seeing stone in the funeral home’s back yard to make the Force happen while Obi-Wan reported cheerfully that the cat perched on it was still not levitating.

It also felt like watching Luke freak out over text to Ned and Michelle about his ex losing their mind at him dumping them after two years to marry this random mechanic within a week of getting together.

Peter got to see this from new angles, too, one of which was the bottom of the funeral home’s attic stairs, which Anakin Skywalker liked to sit on while his grandkids—both Grogu and Han Solo and Leia Organa (pardon, Leia Naberry)’s son—came over to show him things that he was very well aware of. These were stolen from him by Auntie Ahsoka and her friends who Ned knew and Peter did not.

And there was something warming about how even these folks—people from a galaxy far, far away, occasionally needed a Spiderman.

   --

[ticklishfiend]

Pure Gold (My Hero Academia)

Lee!Mina / Ler!Bakugou ⚠️PLATONIC⚠️

A/N : haven’t posted a fic in a while cause my laptop broke but hey!! i fixed it!! so here we go. i wanna make a sequel to this with the sleepover mentioned at the end, so if ur interested or have any ideas, lemme know!!

Summary: Mina catches Bakugou in a very incriminating circumstance, and of course, records it (cause how could she not). Unfortunately for her, Bakugou doesn’t think this is as funny as she thinks it is, but decides to make her laugh with his own methods anyways.

Word Count: 3084

REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED, MWAH <33 xoxo

. . .

Mina rolled onto her right side for what had to be the millionth time tonight, nothing ever feeling comfortable enough to just loll her into the right sleepy headspace she needed to get some goddamn shuteye. She’s never really had many problems with falling asleep before, so why tonight she had to be burdened with this temporary insomnia was beyond her. 

Mina threw her arm out behind her back towards her bedside table, fingers fumbling around for her phone before finding it connected to the charger. Detaching it from it’s plug, she brought it towards her, face flinching at the sudden brightness before her eyes adjusted to the light. She groaned as she scanned over the time, 1:02AM, far later than she would typically still be awake. Sure, it was Friday so she didn’t have any classes to worry about the next day, but it was still frustrating to get off her normal sleeping schedule so suddenly and for seemingly no reason. She had to fix it soon before she pulled an accidental all-nighter.

Whining and groaning the whole way, Mina threw her legs out over the side of her bed, dangling her feet for a moment before slipping them into her cute fuzzy panda slippers she kept on her bedside. The girl figured her best bet for now would be to drink one of the soothing teas that Momo kept lying around in the kitchen for anyone to use. She dragged herself towards the door, allowing her arms to stretch over her head with a yawn before grabbing at the cold metal door handle and slowly creaking open the entrance. 

She was careful to be quiet, turning the handle before shutting the door as to avoid any unnecessary clicks. She’d be damned if she made any of her light-sleeper classmates go through the same sleepless night she was currently going through by waking them up so late in the night. She walked heel to toe through the carpeted hallway, finding her way to the elevator finally and breathing a sigh of relief as the doors closed without a dinging sound.

After what felt like a treacherous journey, she finally made it to the corner that would lead her to both the kitchen and common area. But, before she turned the corner, she saw a light illuminating off the walls coming from the commons. Her brow quirked, not expecting any type of light to be shining from the area.

No worries, she thought. If someone accidentally left a light on I’ll just turn it off real quick so no one gets in trouble, easy peasy! She finally made it around the corner when it finally dawned on her where the light source was coming from in the first place; the TV.

Her eyes met the muted TV that seemed to be playing a...romance anime? The subtitles were on and the volume was completely turned off, so whoever had been watching it was obviously aware of how late it was and was trying to stay quiet for the rest of the class like Mina had been.

The pink girl watched the screen for a moment, reading the subtitles to find that one of the characters had apparently just confessed their love to someone else in some heroic fashion. It was super cute, and she’ll definitely have to look up whatever this is so she can watch it in her own time. Before she could make her way towards the action to turn the TV off, however, she heard...is that…?

...sniffles? 

She paused, her ears perking up at the sound just in case she had imagined it. Then, no more than 3 seconds later, she heard it again. Sniffles, this time accompanied by a little groan of what sounded like endearment. This is so cute, she thought to herself, bringing her hand to her mouth to cover up any giggles that dared to escape. Someone’s crying about a romance anime right now, and it definitely sounded like one of the boys too! There’s no way I can’t find out who this is.

As quietly and sneakily as the acidic girl possibly could, she made her way towards the back of the couch, crouching down just slightly as to not alert them with her shadow. She finally allowed her eyes to peer just above the top of the cushion aaaand…

…

BAKUGOU?!

Mina could hardly believe what she was seeing. Was she complaining? Absolutely not, this was pure gold, it was just surprising! THE Bakugou Katsuki, curled up on the corner of the couch swaddled in a fluffy All Might blanket, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes with an actual smile on his face. He stuffed his mouth with popcorn before wiping his tears with the corner of his printed blanket, muffling a small “Finally,” into the fabric. 

There was no chance in hell Mina was going to miss this golden opportunity.

Like a spy, Mina quickly but quietly snatched her phone from the pocket of her sleep shorts, opening the camera before pressing record. She zoomed in on the romantic scene displayed on the screen, before slowly panning down to the still sniffling Bakugou, the light from the TV bright but his smile even brighter. She hit the off button before stuffing the phone back in her pocket with a grin, quietly making her way towards the kitchen.

She went to take a mug out of one of the top cabinets, purposefully shutting it louder than she needed to to alert the blonde on the sofa. He jumped at the noise, whipping his head around towards the girl before throwing his arm towards the coffee table to snatch the remote and turn the TV off with force.

“Why the fuck are you in here, Pinky?!!” Bakugou whisper-shouted from across the room, and though the light from the TV was now gone, Mina could just tell he had to be blushing from embarrassment. She grinned widely.

“Oh, y’know, couldn’t sleep,” She smirked, not looking Bakugou’s direction while filling her kettle with tap water. “I’m guessing the romantic buildup had to be pretty intense to make THE Lord Explosion Murder shed a few tears, huh?”

Bakugou froze before his body started to shake with anger, launching himself over the back of the couch and lunging towards Mina, grabbing her by the shoulders and digging his fingers into the flesh aggressively. He was seething, his jaw clenched and eyes white with anger, and though Mina was a little shaken up when he initially grabbed her, she couldn’t help but giggle when remembering what she had just seen moments ago.

“I WILL KILL YOU, YOU ALIEN FUCK!” He almost-shouted, and it was obvious he was still cautious of waking anyone up so Mina wouldn’t be able to tell anyone about what she had witnessed. “You keep this shit to yourself, got it?! Cause I’m not scared to fucking kill you!”

“Oh I know that, Blasty,” she smiled up at him, unable to suppress another giggle. “It’s too bad I got your little cry-sesh on camera then, huh?”

Bakugou’s face fell, his eyes wide before he squeezed even tighter into her shoulders. “You...you WHAT?!?!” Mina had meant to let out another laugh at his expense, but it turned into a yelp as she was aggressively hoisted up over his shoulder. 

Mina kicked and laughed, hitting at his back to no avail as he stomped towards the couch and unceremoniously threw her down onto it, pinning her against the cushions, her hands now laying flat underneath his knees that were thrown over her waist.

“Woah, take me out to dinner first!” Mina’s eyes were wide as she let out a nervous chuckle. She tugged at her hands, but they weren’t going anywhere under his weight. She even tried kicking a little against the cushion, but yet again, nothing.

“Not into you like that, Pinky,” He aggressively pointed towards her face, the angry scowl never leaving his now wrinkled expression. “And you’re gonna delete that fucking video, got it?!”

“Are you kidding me?! I could never delete that! It’s gold and you know it!” Mina exasperated, shocked he could even consider that a possibility. 

“NO IT’S FUCKING NOT!” He whisper-shouted into her face, moving his hand even closer to her face until it booped her nose, her eyes crossing down to look at it. “Delete it, Horns...or I’ll fucking make you.”

Mina uncrossed her eyes and looked up to Bakugou, whose face remained angry and undeterred. She sighed, “Ok, first of all, they’re not horns; they’re antennas. Secondly, you were too cute in the video to delete it! I’m sorry, Baku, but I can’t do that.”

Bakugou just grunted, moving both of his hands down now to grip at her waist, making her eyes widen with a sudden knowing fear. “I am NOT cute, and you WILL delete that fucking video, Pink-Fuck! You always give in to this shit,” Bakugou couldn’t help the smirk that rose on his face as he squeezed her sides once, making her jump and yelp.

“Nohoho! Bakugou, please, not thihis!” Mina couldn’t help the giggles that left her lips even if he hadn’t properly done anything yet. It was just the knowing of what was to come that caused nervous laughter to bubble from her chest and into both their ears.

“It doesn’t have to be this way, moron,” Bakugou said, eyeing down at her waist before noticing the phone-sized bulge in her shorts pocket. He smirked, reaching down and pulling it from its hiding spot. He looked at the screen before huffing, turning it to face her eyes. “Gimme the code. Now.”

“No way! You’ll just delete the video!” Mina said before yelping with another jerk as he pinched at her side again. “Dohon’t!” He sat her phone down on the arm of the couch before wiggling both his hands over her belly, the sight alone making her shriek and let out a flow of giggles.

“You’re gonna wanna give me that code, loser,” Bakugou grinned, jerking his hands down towards her stomach without touching her and bringing them back up, making Mina jerk aggressively with another yelp. “I haven’t even touched you yet and you’re already freaking out! This is gonna fucking suck for you if you don’t let me delete that damn video!” 

Mina just pursed her mouth shut tightly, shaking her head “no” while letting little huffs of suppressed laughs escape from her nose. Bakugou just sighed, raising his wiggling fingers just slightly higher before a wide, sadistic grin cemented itself to his face.

“You asked for this.”

Before she had time to retaliate, wiggling fingers came down to pinch up her sides and into the dips of her ribs, sending her into a cackling fit. She kicked uselessly from behind him, tugging at her trapped hands to no avail.

Bakugou used his right hand to dig his fingertips into the bottom of her ribs, while skittering his other nails over her quivering belly. She sucked her stomach in as much as possible, but with each laugh it was brought back up, practically tickling itself on his fingers.

“Bakugohohou! Plehehease! Nohoho!” She squealed, her eyes squeezed tightly shut as he continued his relentless but playful torture.

“No what?” the blonde teased, using his index and middle fingers to vibrate into her tummy. She let out a shriek at that, jerking violently while trying to smush her face into the cushion beside her. “Ohoho, that bad, huh? Pretty effective method if I do say so myself,” Bakugou then used his two fingers on each hand to vibrate into her lower ribs, a spot he knows all too well is absolutely unforgiving. She screamed at this, shaking her head side to side as laughs poured from her gut. “I always get what I want, Pinky, and this isn’t gonna be any fucking different.”

Mina couldn’t help the loud shrieks and squeals that left her body, tossing herself from side to side with no effect whatsoever. “GAHAHAHA! Plehehease! It tickles too muhuhuch!”

“Not my fucking problem,” Bakugou went back to his squeezing method from before, this time bringing one hand down to pinch at her hip. Mina jolted at the touch, screaming and cackling at his relentless squeezing. “The code, moron, lest you forget about what got you here in the first place.”

“Nehehever! I cahahan’t!” she laughed before gasping in a breath of air as his hands let go of her body for a moment. She hesitantly opened one of her eyes to look at her tormentor, who was yet again wiggling his fingers over her tummy. She shut her eyes again tight at the sight, a new bout of giggles leaving her from anticipation. “Nohoho!”

“You can never handle being teased, can ya?” Bakugou grinned, before bringing both his hands back down to lift up her nightshirt up to her bottom ribs.

“No! No no no! Please! Bakugou, let’s talk about this!” Mina spluttered out nervously, opening her eyes to see him just ghosting his fingers over her still quivering belly. She tossed her head back with a giggly whine, kicking her feet behind him like a child in a tantrum.

“Nope. You had your damn chance, and you blew it,” He smirked devilishly, bringing his fingers down to gently skitter over her now bare belly, dissolving her into a fit of high-pitched giggles. “Now you’re gonna get-” BZZZ! BZZZ!

Bakugou paused his previously wiggling fingers, his head whipping up and eyes making contact with the now buzzing phone resting on the arm of the couch. He groaned when he read who was calling on Mina’s FaceTime, resting one hand on his knee while reaching out and swiping the phone from it’s resting spot (though his knees were still pressed firmly against Mina’s trapped hands- he hadn’t yet planned on stopping her torment.)

Bakugou pressed the bright green button on the screen and stared blankly at the dark screen as Denki answered. The boy had obviously been trying to sleep, evident by the fact no lights were on in his room.

“Bakugou?” The boy asked groggily on the other end, and even though Bakugou couldn’t technically see his face, he knew he had to have the dumbest expression printed all over it.

“Yes, what the hell do you want Pikachu?” Bakugou growled at the screen.

“Can you tell Mina to quit screaming? I could tell it’s her, her laughs are always the same; just so fuckin’ loud,” Denki chuckled, and Bakugou could hear his sheets shuffling. “What’s got her laughing so hard anyway? You aren’t exactly the funniest person on the planet.”

“I’M FUCKING HILARIOUS YOU DUNCE!” Bakugou shouted angrily into the phone, gripping it tightly as Mina just prayed he wouldn’t crush it with his pure fiery rage. “And that’s none of your fucking buisness!” Bakugou paused, looking down at Mina who had a sheepish grin on her face. He sighed. “She’ll be quiet now. Just go to sleep so you aren’t dumber tomorrow than you usually are,” Bakugou huffed, hanging up without allowing the blonde on the other end to get any word in. 

The explosive teen threw Mina’s phone down beside her on the couch, hoisting himself off her with a scowl on his face and a roughness to his movements. Mina couldn’t help but feel a little guilty as he jerked his blanket out from under the girl aggressively and began making his way away from the couch. She quickly sat up and snatched his wrist, pulling him back slightly and making the boy grunt, looking back at her with tense brows.

“How about a compromise?” She proposed, a small grin on her face. He looked at her through squinted eyes for a moment, questioning her request. Finally, he rolled his eyes with a huff.

“Hit me with it,” he didn’t look at her in the eyes, but she celebrated internally at the fact he wasn’t too visibly angry at her.

“I’ve got a sleepover tomorrow with all the girls, and we’ve been dying for a special guest,” She bit her lip with a cheek-tearing smirk as his brow somehow managed to furrow even deeper. “Hang out with us for just a few hours tomorrow night; you don’t even have to sleep over, just stay for the fun parts. I’ll delete the video as soon as it’s over.”

He continued to stare at her questioningly, obviously not convinced nor happy with this compromise. She needed to give him more.

“I promise I won’t show a soul the video if you promise to go tomorrow. No one will even know it existed before it’s already gone,” she said, before deciding to finally pull out the big guns. She pouted out her bottom lip and lowered her wide eyes, eyebrows piercing upwards like a sad puppy. “Pleeease Bakugou? I promise it’ll be fun!”

He paused, staring at her sad little face and feeling himself go slightly soft inside while staring at his friend. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and jerked his arm out of the girl’s grasp with a loud groan.

“Fine...as long as this shit stays between us...I guess I’ll go,” Bakugou nearly whispered the last part, as if the words had to crawl their way out of his throat while being tied down from his sheer stubbornness alone. 

Mina couldn't help the shriek of excitement she let out, her mouth quickly getting covered by Bakugou's large calloused hand while his other planted an index finger on his own mouth towards her. “Shut the fuck up Pinky, we already woke Dunce up!” She just smiled behind his hand, nodding up and down quickly.

Bakugou let out a sigh as he moved his hand from her face, using his fingers to squeeze at the bridge of his nose. “You are so fucking annoying, y’know that?”

Mina just giggled, standing up and giving Bakugou a hug so quick he couldn’t pull away from it. He stood in shock for a moment, before shoving her shoulder and making the girl fall back on the couch with an oof! followed by her giggles. He just rolled his eyes with a, “Tch,” throwing his blanket over his shoulder and walking towards the hallways.

“Night, Blasty! Get ready for the night of your life tomorrow!” She whisper-shouted towards the exiting boy, who only flipped her off as his body finally disappeared into the shadows of the shared hallways.

. . .

A/N : hope you enjoyed!! i didn’t rlly proofread this so if it’s terribly written i apologize lmaoo, again if ur interested in a part 2 lemme know!!! much love <3 xoxo

[karikarasuno]

The Sun Doesn’t Shine in Tokyo, Part II

Pairing: Tanaka Ryunosuke x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Angst, Character Death(s), Violence, Graphic Descriptions of Injuries, Mentions of Blood, Grief, Smut, Soft Sex, Vague knowledge of Computer Engineering (once again, please bear with me)

Summary: The end is near. Time is quickly running out. Hope is fleeting, but not entirely gone.

Part I | Part II

Word Count: 9.8k

June 17, 2065

8:24am

It’s morning. The digital clock on his bedside table flashed 8:24am, the angular digits barely seen through the grogginess of your sleepy brain. You shift to go back to sleep, which easily draws you in until there’s a stinging burn on your side. Your wound is itchy and uncomfortable.

“Shh,” fingers are brushing the hair on your forehead from your eyes. “Just gimme a second. This is gonna hurt.”

A wet cloth is pressed to the wound, the stinging sensation returning as you feel the alcohol clean out the dirt and grime from the night before. You squeeze your eyes shut and bite your lip to deal with the temporary pain. “I’m sorry, a little longer then I’ll be done.”

The cloth is removed as you sit up to rest on the headboard, too awake after the cold stinging to go back to bed. A calloused hand comes to stroke your cheek, chapped lips pressing a tender kiss to your temple. “Morning,” you croak, voice rough with sleep.

“G’morning, baby,” you can tell he’s been up for a while, the hoarseness that usually cracks his voice almost entirely gone.

“I should probably shower and then head downstairs. I never actually got the chance to brief everyone on what happened.”

“Don’t worry about it. Yamaguchi already did late last night. So just shower and meet me in the conference room for breakfast,” Tanaka explains before he pushes off his side of the bed, fully dressed as he places clean clothes for you on his dresser. Yachi probably gave them to him this morning and you remember you have to apologize to her today since you most likely sent her into cardiac arrest last night.

Lethargy and anticipation dictate the way you go about your morning, hardly remembering how you ended up sitting between Tanaka and Yamaguchi at the first officer strategy meeting of the day, showered and your gash freshly wrapped. Suga and Daichi are running it, images of the city’s infrastructure holographically displayed above the switchboard. The 3D landscape spinning and flickering as they outline different plans for tonight.

You didn’t realize your leg was bouncing beneath the table until Tanaka’s hand spread out on your thigh to stop it. “You listening?” He questions staring at you intently. Your thoughts have honestly traveled elsewhere, so you shake your head no.

“Do you have the tracking device?” Daichi repeats.

“Oh, no I don’t,” you lean forward and adjust your posture. “I slipped it into Oikawa’s pocket before he lost his shit, but I’m not sure if it survived the crash,” you explain, recalling the exact moment when he was gripping your chin, the distraction of your dagger on his sternum giving you enough time to plant it on him.

“We’ll have to ask Kenma then, maybe he can still locate it. And if that’s the case we’ll be able to see where he is, what he’s up to.”

The meeting continues, your attention drifting in and out trying to formulate a solid plan of your own. Something to ensure that everyone makes it out alive. After your encounter with Iwaizumi you were especially concerned about fighting an army of volunteers. Not that you weren’t confident in the people here, but you managed to plunge your dagger into one of his arteries and he still got up at Oikawa’s demand.

“The tunnels are a no go,” Yamaguchi says at some point when they began deciding on entry routes. “The grenade I threw blocked the only entrance we had into the basement.” You nod in confirmation as you remember the chunks of rubble and debris that were now closing in the stairs.

“The main entrance is our best shot. It’s bold and what they’ll least be expecting. There’s also a chance we could disarm the alarm system if we can break through the firewall. We have the manpower, the only unknown are the volunteers and what they’re fully capable of,” you add on, the floorplan of the estate replacing the flickering city. You stand to describe the various points of entry and what you assume would be the places they are most likely going to have guards stand outside.

“You should have the long range fighters stationed here,” your finger hovers over a patch of tall trees near one of the side doors. “And here,” you shift to point out an area near the front that is also beneath the shadows of the woods.

“Those specialized in hand to hand combat should form the frontlines, while everyone else flanks out in a diamond formation. Yachi in the middle with y/n and Yamaguchi,” Suga suggests while he visually demonstrates the formation on one of the large screens. “Since Yachi doesn’t have much combat experience Tanaka and Terushima will go with them,” he tacks on, giving Tanaka a pointed look.

“And obviously because the two of you are practically useless with your injuries,” Suga teases before he proceeds to assign and explain other roles. The rest of the meeting moves forward without a hitch and everyone agrees on the plan that factored in as many uncertainties as possible. The chairs scrape against the floor as the officers shuffle out to start preparing for tonight.

You stand with Tanaka’s hand in yours and start to make your way through the first floor before you stop in front of one of the only staircases in the building. “I’m actually gonna go visit Kenma,” you explain as Tanaka looks at you silently confused.

“I wanted to ask him a few questions before tonight,” you add as you slip your hand from his and he gives you a solid shrug.

“Alright, I’ll be in the vault, checking the inventory,” he grins, his hands circling your waist to pull you into his sturdy frame. “Maybe I’ll be able to find you a better weapon,” he bends to toy with the dagger on your thigh that you refused to travel without after last night.

“Better?!,” you feign offense. “You don’t think my dagger makes me look sexy?” You grin cheekily at him as his own teasing smile spreads across his face.

“Oh, I always think you look sexy. But you know what would make you look even sexier,” he leans down so that he’s staring directly into your eyes, voice dipping low. “Protection,” his eyes glint with mischief and a knowing smirk settles on his lips.

You shove him lightly and playfully smack the side of his head, his beanie shifting sideways. “Haha so funny,” you roll your eyes as your smile brightens. “Gimme some options and we’ll see.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he responds when you turn around to walk away, his palm smacking your ass as you bound up the steps. “Payback for the beanie,” his hands rise in defense before he winks at you and turns to keep walking down the hall.

You take the steps two at a time like you usually do, except now you have your healing gash as a reminder to slow down. Unlike the other floors in the building the second level is a single large room coined the “Zone” by many of the guys. One half hosts Kuroo’s test lab, usually unkempt with sulfur and boiling chemical concoctions covering the surfaces. The other half belongs to Kenma with his various half built devices stuck between keyboards and multicolored wires.

While Kuroo often ventures out into the other rooms of the hideout to seek socialization, you can always find Kenma sitting exactly where he is now. Headset nestled over his ears, hair pulled back in a messy bun with his controller tight in his hands.

You walk up behind him and pull one of the cuffs from his ear. “Hey loser,” you release the set from your grasp so it snaps back on to his head, this time all lopsided.

“Not a loser,” he responds as he shakes his head so that the headphones fall back around his neck. His screens flashing a bold ‘victory’ to affirm that he is, in fact, not a loser.

“You are the only person I know who can play video games the day our world might end,” you say with a laugh when he shoots you an apathetic stare.

The relationship between you and Kenma developed rather naturally, a sibling connection unfolding before either of you realized. On your many sleepless nights wandering and exploring the compound you often found yourself here. At first, you stumbled upon him accidentally in the middle of the night, while everyone else was either asleep or working on their own projects to prepare for the upcoming conflicts. He awkwardly invited you to sit with him as he played or tinkered with new or semi thought out inventions. You really only watched at first, curiosity overcoming your intentions to not disturb him, but you soon found yourself asking questions. The questions turning into overnighters where he would teach you how to play his favorite games or help him code software he would embed in his tiny devices.

He puts his remote down and swivels in his chair to face you. “I was brainstorming,” the corner of his lips quirk up a little as he gets up and bumps your shoulder with his to step around you.

“Brainstorming what exactly?” You ask, your eyes following his thin frame as he walks to his crafts table and picks up a few things. He tilts his head to signal for you to walk over to him. “I’ll show you.”

You move to stand beside him and he hands off the small devices to you. You inspect them and realize they are watches, complete with a touch screen center and small dials on each side.

“These are reinforcement devices,” he says. “I don’t have enough for everyone but you clasp them around your wrist and twist the dials. A shield will manifest from here,” he points to the watch’s face, and what you incorrectly assumed was a touch screen surface is actually a reflection of the software’s veil.

“This is actually the code you helped me develop a few weeks back.” You smile up at him fondly, remembering the argument you got into after he refused to explain what it was for.

“How many do you have?”

“Six are complete,” he answers. “But I also have this.” He grabs a larger cylindrical device from a shelf attached to the wall.

“This is essentially a bigger version of those. The shield covers way more surface area. You can stick it to a wall or door, enter the pin and the shield will reinforce the structure to protect whatever’s inside,” he finished explaining before he places it back on the shelf.

“When did you have time to do all of this?” His production rate when it comes to his inventions is impressive to say the least.

He takes some of the reinforcement devices from you to organize them beside the others. “You know I hardly sleep,” he shrugs as if his lack of rest doesn’t bother you.

You open your mouth to voice this for the millionth time, but he lifts his finger to shush you. “Don’t. I get it,” he interrupts.

“Fine. But this doesn’t explain why you were brainstorming,” you say instead of nagging him about his awful sleep schedule, not that yours was really any better.

“Right,” he slides you over by your shoulders to switch spots. “This is for you,” he opens the locker in the corner of the room to pull something out. It’s another round device about two inches thick with small legs to hold it up.

“What’s this?” Your intrigue successfully piqued.

“Just watch,” he walks to Kuroo’s lab table and pushes some stuff around to clear a spot.

“I’ve been working on this for a while now,” he grabs his phone from his back pocket and punches in his password and then opens an app. The device begins to illuminate as streaks of ultraviolet waves burst through the top. “It’s a simulation machine that kinda works. I can’t seem to get the graphics right for some reason, hence the gaming,” he explains.

“So you’re saying you wouldn’t have been playing regardless,” you say, which earns you an eye roll from him and a chuckle from you.

“Pay attention,” he points to the device, redirecting your attention instead of answering you. There’s a distinct humming noise before the room’s image starts to ripple. A pixelated version of a beach envelopes the room warping and disguising the furniture.

“It’s not perfect, but it’s an illusion that can trick enemies into believing they are somewhere else,” he whispers, looking a bit sheepish. “I’ve only been able to generate this stock photo, but eventually I want it to replicate different rooms or even scenery we haven’t experienced in a while.”

“Kenma,” your voice is wistful as you absorb the sway of the palm trees, the gentle rolling of the waves lapping the shores. “This is amazing. H-how did you do this?”

“I had Yachi’s help. She came up one night freaking about the control center’s algorithm and asked if I could help since you and Yamaguchi were already asleep. We ended up talking about sunsets, mainly her rambling,” he lightly snorts. “So I showed her some games with high resolution graphics that had some pretty cool sunsets and she came up with this. She coded it really quickly while I built it. I just haven’t been able to fix the kinks.”

You were near tears. The words escaped you, but mostly because you could never describe what you were feeling out loud. The snapshot of a panicking Yachi running to Kenma makes you laugh because there is no way he calmed her down without having a silent stroke of his own.

“And this is for me?” You ask for clarification before the tears really start falling.

“Yeah,” he raises his hand to rub at the back of his neck. “Other than computer engineering, you are really the only thing we have in common.”

“Kenma, I-,”

“Woah!” You both turn to what used to be the floor’s entrance, which is now limitless sand. “The beach! This is so cool!” Hinata squeals, his eyes lighting up with wonder and amazement.

“Oh hey, Shoyo,” Kenma fumbles with his phone to turn off the display.

“What’s up?” You’re grateful for his interruption, afraid you were about to become a sobbing mess in front of Kenma, which he would not have appreciated.

“Tanaka asked me to come get you,” his smile is wide and enthusiastic. “Said something about your options being ready.”

“Of course he actually went through with it,” you shake your head not the slightest bit surprised.

“Also said if you don’t hurry he’s not afraid to kick some ass,” Hinata adds on, his smile turning impishly cheeky.

“Of course he did,” you laugh before turning back to Kenma, who’s a subtle shade of red.

“We aren’t done here,” you tell him, knowing how flushed he gets when he’s alone with Hinata and you walk away from him backwards until you’re standing behind your new guest. “Watch him, he’s known to cause trouble,” you whisper to Hinata but it’s still loud enough from him to hear you.

“Oh, I know,” he plays along, only for Kenma’s neck to burn a brilliant red as Hinata steps further into the Zone. You make kissy faces behind his back to tease him as much as possible before you run down the stairs, narrowly missing the object he threw at you.

June 17, 2065

4:57pm

The gun is spinning on the turntable in front of you. The gun you and Tanaka compromised on. It’s a small black pistol, the deep metal drinking in the harsh light from the screens lining the walls as it spins and spins. In the center of the room, Yachi is typing vigorously, the reversal code practically finished, but she tended to be a perfectionist, so you sit beside her waiting for it to be done.

“I can help,” you offer, hoping she will let you this time. She just glances at you, a flick of anxiety flashing in her gaze before she shakes her head no.

“Why not?”

“It’s already done,” she responds, fingers still tapping on the keys. “I just have to double check if everything is in order.”

“Well, what is it?” You’ve been begging for her to share the code with you, trying to convince her that it would be smarter if more than one person had it, especially if she’s not able to reach the control center in time.

“Not telling you,” her hair falls to cover her face as she looks down at her stilled hands. “It has to be me. I just need for you to get me there.”

“Yachi, c’mon, at least tell Yams,” you argue, not understanding why she won’t share the information with anyone.

“S-sorry,” is all she says in response, and you let out an agitated sigh because you won’t win this argument. “What’s with the gun?” She motions towards it with her hand as she leans back in her chair, avoiding the initial topic.

“Tanaka doesn’t believe my dagger is enough protection,” you look back down at the spinning gun and your chest tightens at the mere idea of having to use it. “It was this or a fucking katana.”

She laughs, the abruptness startling you, but she doubles over and wheezes. A blush is blooming on her cheeks at the lack of oxygen going to her lungs, her laugh turning into hiccups and breathless gasps. It’s contagious, your own laugh soon wracking through you.

“I don’t get it,” you say through snorts. “What’s so funny?”

“I cannot imagine you wielding a katana,” tears of laughter are decorating her face. “You’d probably accidentally cut off your own arm before you manage to land it on anyone else.” She’s wiping the tears from her eyes as her breath slowly returns, her cheeks still flushed a pretty pink.

“I take offense to that. I would be such a badass with one,” you rebuttal.

“Sure,” she squeaks out.

“I just might need a little practice first.”

She falls into a fit of giggles again, probably imagining you tripping over the long blade forgetting that she’s the clumsy one. Your cheeks are hurting from smiling, a warmth rooting itself within you, and for the first time in weeks the flower of hope feels like it will bloom soon. The delicate petals unfurling with a promise of prosperity, a promise that things will be okay.

“Hey,” Tanaka bursts through the door, a little out of breath like he ran here. “Kenma was able to track Oikawa. He’s still at the estate, probably never left.”

“You think he’s still alive?” You jump from your seat, Yachi at your side in an instant.

“Definitely. Yamaguchi said you left him in the basement, but Kenma can see his movements and he’s currently on the move.”

“But what if it’s not him? What if someone just found his body and is carrying it around?” You are skeptical, unsure if Oikawa was able to survive two gunshot wounds and a crash.

“First of all, that’s nasty,” he wrinkles his nose in disgust. “Second of all, I don’t think it matters. The person, Oikawa or not, is heading to the control center. We have five hours before the thing is set to explode, so we leave in four.”

“Got it. The reversal code is ready,” Yachi interjects before you can. “I’m ready,” she straightens her shoulders, eyes determined as she meets yours.

You grab the gun that is now still on the table and place it in the holster on your hip. “Me too.”

June 17, 2065

9:22pm

The front of the estate is surrounded by steel poles, roughly 16 feet tall. Weaved between each pole are copper wires that conduct heat and electricity constantly, making it difficult to enter without burns or electric shocks. Fortunately, Kenma was able to hack into the compound's firewall rather easily since it had been abandoned for months and disconnected the alarm system.

The group gathers around the front gate, those who specialize in combat form the first row and once you enter the plan is to split into various smaller groups. You would head straight to the control center with Yachi and Yamaguchi, while Tanaka and Terushima serve as bodyguards. Yamaguchi’s ankle is doing better, his limp gone and the reinforcement device adorning his wrist. You are all wearing bulletproof vests, the material surprisingly thin and breathable as it’s strapped over your tank top. Your cut is safely hidden beneath it.

The gates are set to open at 9:30, the distance fighters successfully hidden in the trees while everyone else fans out on either side of your group. Kuroo managed to hand out flash grenades and smoke bombs to every unit, the sulfur in the lab results of failed bombs that blew up prematurely. You search the crowd counting the bodies, committing the number to memory; twenty-six, hoping that it will be the same when you exit tonight.

Kenma is standing next to Kuroo and you watch as he sends up a mini drone. The device flying into the trees and an image of Hinata and Nishinoya flash on his phone. The boys are settled high up in the trees, Noya’s crossbow strapped to his back, while Hinata is busy tying knots into rope, his knives and shuriken hidden beneath his clothing.

You start to feel the signs of a tension headache strain your neck, the anticipation sucking your soul from the confines of your skin. Tanaka is kneeling in front of you and you stare at the muscles of his back flex and relax through his black sleeveless shirt as he laces up his boots. Once he’s finished he twists on the balls of his feet to face you, hands going to check your laces and tucking the hem of your cargos into them, your ankles thanking him for the extra support.

“It’s almost time,” he whacks your thigh so you look down at him. “You ready?”

You give him a small nod, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“You remember the plan, right? Once we enter those doors you stay behind me. I’ll say when the coast is clear, but if things get too crazy, Yachi is the priority,” he rises from his position. “Get her to the control center, then find me. Don’t do anything irrational,” he finishes.

You give him a nervous laugh, “I’ll try.”

“No, it’s not you’ll t-”

“I’m kidding, Ryu,” you cut him off.

“Not funny, love,” he turns around to settle next to Terushima, whose arm is extending behind him, pinky linking with Yamaguchi’s.You link your arms with Yachi’s as you wait, only five more minutes left.

“Welcome!” Everyone’s attention snaps to the balcony above the double doors of the entrance. Oikawa is standing there, pale and bloody. “I wasn’t expecting to have this many guests come to watch the end with me. This is so heartwarming.”

The gates creak and shudder as they shuffle open. Volunteers begin to reveal themselves from their hiding spots to gather at the front doors, but no one on your side of the gates moves. Your hand wraps around the hilt of your dagger and your stance shifts so that Yachi is partially blocked by you.

He spots you in the crowd and he has the nerve to smirk at you, the once endearing gesture looks pained on his hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes. A daunting beauty transforming his features. “Oh, darling, I’ve been expecting you,” he waves with his good hand, his injured arm is supported with a sling.

“I’m sure you’re glad to see me alive, but Iwa didn’t make it,” you can’t tell if he actually is pained by this with the way he sulks and leans on the rails. “So obviously I can’t let you leave here alive,” he giggles, almost drunkenly. “An eye for an eye or whatever they used to say.”

“I’ll kill him,” Tanaka snarls, gun pointing at Oikawa. You grip his arm to yank it down, fully aware that now is not the time.

“What was that about being irrational?” You hiss at him so he lowers his weapon. Oikawa sees this and you watch his entire demeanor change, his taunting gaze igniting into something far more terrifying.

“Who’s this, princess? You brought me a new toy?” His tone is flat, monotone. “Since you killed my last one!” You flinch at the rise in his voice, the rebels frozen in disbelief, a motivating fear beginning to billow through the crowd.

“We need to move,” Daichi’s deep voice diminishes Oikawa’s immediately. “NOW,” he screams and he’s the first on the move, gun firing shot after shot in the volunteers’ direction.

“STOP THEM!” Oikawa’s shrill shriek is hardly heard above the sounds of battle, but the volunteers do not hesitate. Their smell smacking the air from your lungs, no description adequate enough to warn you. Yachi’s hand is now firm in yours as you run close behind Tanaka. Your dagger unsheathed as your biceps tense with untapped energy. You slip through the front doors quickly, most of the fighting designated to those who formed the front lines.

You deduce that the volunteers are abnormally strong as you witness them tear metal like paper, and crack the estate’s concrete in single punches. Luckily, they are incredibly slow, their limbs swing and jerk in unsynchronized movements, as if they are babies taking their first steps. The rebels on the other hand are nimble, even the largest members fight with the agility of trained ballerinas, their movements fluid and graceful.

You yell for Tanaka and Terushima to take the stairs down to the basement. The claustrophobic idea of being stuck in an elevator is enough to stop your heart. Terushima reaches the door first, the force with which he tears it open rips it from its hinges.

You fly down the first flight, your grip on Yachi never loosening. Yamaguchi brings up the end, he’s holding nunchucks that you have no idea where he got them from. He flicks his wrist to swing them at one of the volunteers that followed you, the wood thwacking against her nose, splatters of blood erupt from her skull and dot Yamaguchi’s skin as she crumples to the floor, her body splaying out across the steps. “Don’t stop running!” He yells, hand grabbing Yachi’s elbow pushing you down the final flight to the basement.

The elevator dings at the end of the hallway, a ghastly Oikawa steps through and you catch a glimpse of silver. At first, you thought it had to be his veins visible through his milky skin, but now you can see the thin lines of silver snaking throughout his body. “He did not look like that yesterday,” Yamaguchi skids to a stop behind you.

Tanaka and Terushima have their weapons raised in front of you, a spear twirling in Teru’s hand. “Where’s the control room, Oikawa?” Tanaka calls out, his voice dripping with poison.

“Why would I tell you when they already know?” He quips, his retort losing substance when a wet cough breaks through his chest. “As you can see I can’t put up much of a fight,” he coughs again, dribbles of thinning blood leaks from his lips. “Iwa’s device doesn’t suit me too well,” he leans his neck to the side, a sickening pop coming from it.

“Iwa’s what?” You say it before you mean to, the situation only becoming creepier with every drop of new knowledge.

“You see, when Iwa was crushed, I found his body in the rubble. The implants we use jutting out from the skin between his shoulder blades, so I tore it out,” he staggers towards your group, the leg he was shot in scraping against the floor with each step. “I inserted it into the bullet wound above my knee,” he points to his twisted leg. “That way Iwa and I will always be together.”

“Dude, what the fuck,” Terushima says behind his hand as he gags. The smell of rotting flesh and rusty metal wafting through the hall with each drag of Oikawa’s leg.

You know he’s not down here alone, that he probably has volunteers stationed somewhere near the control center, but that’s down the hall, through another room. The five of you don’t stand a chance alone without knowing exactly how many are here. You also know that Oikawa’s breaths are numbered, his body actively rejecting the implant stealing away his time like he’s stalling yours.

“But if you really want to know,” he draws in a shallow breath and stops a few feet away from your group. “The control center is down this hall through that room,” he points to his right, the door cracked open. “I’ll let you pass, but good luck. I already input the code,” he inches towards the door and dramatically looks at his watch. “Seems like you only have 8 minutes.” 

He wags his fingers at you as he leans into the door, his weight pushing it open fully and he disappears in the darkness. Tanaka’s running first, fluidly rushing to the open door, but before he reaches it many of the other ones open. Decaying bodies hauling the burden of their transformation into the corridor. “Ryu, wait!” You call out to him but he’s already surrounded. He unsheathes the sword strapped to his back and swings it out in a swift circular arc to force the volunteers back. You count seven in total, all focused dangerously on your boyfriend. 

Terushima bends down in front of the three of you and unzips the pouch clipped around his hips. “Fall back,” he says.

“What’re you gonna do?” Yamaguchi bends at the waist to look over his shoulder. “I’m gonna use one of the stun grenades to distract them. Tanaka’s quick on his feet and he’ll know he only has a split second to escape. But first I need you guys to fall back.”

You’re hesitant at first, but Yachi tugs you away from them while Yamaguchi follows, still a step ahead. “Tanaka, get ready!” Terushima yells before he pulls the clip and tosses it. The grenade rolling to a stop at Tanaka’s feet. 

“Get down,” you turn to tackle Yachi in your arms, your body shielding her from any fallout. The flashes and popping noises signaling its detonation. You look up when some of the noise dies down, the door leading to the control center swinging wildly while the volunteers trip over themselves, disoriented and scattered at the end of the hall. You missed the exact moment, but three of the volunteers were now on the ground, their implants sliced out from their shoulder blades. The pincers on the devices opening and closing in search for their host. 

“Thanks, Tanaka,” Teru whispers in awe. “Impressive bastard took three of ‘em out on his own and discovered that you disable them by removing those creepy shits,” he laughs.

“Okay, babe, we’ll go in before the ladies,” he stands and helps Yamaguchi to his feet. “You take the small one in the corner. Leave the three big guys to me,” he smirks. 

“Now’s not the time to compete, Teru,” Yamaguchi sighs, grabbing a switchblade from his pocket, while clutching the revolver in his other hand.

“A little healthy competition never hurt nobody,” he nudges Yamaguchi with his shoulder, sending him a sly wink. “Trust me.” 

The boys bolt forward, weapons in hand as they twirl in combat, the first heavy body thumping to the ground. They clear the path for you and Yachi quickly, the space in front of the door now empty.

You grab Yachi and book it. Your concern for Tanaka’s safety rises exponentially as you rush to the control center, where he and Oikawa surely are.

The room opens up and near the center you see Oikawa and Tanaka arguing loudly, Tanaka’s gun pointing at Oikawa while he grips the sword behind him to keep the volunteers at bay. The control center is blinking, digital numbers floating above the panel counting down ominously. You have five minutes left and the prospects of disabling the system are low. The ring of volunteers lining the perimeter is your main obstacle because at any given moment their motionless blank stares could be activated. 

“What do we do?” Yachi whispers hurriedly beside you, no one noticing the two of you enter the room yet. 

“We get you to the panel in the next five minutes. How?” You’re trying to think as fast as possible. “I don’t know yet.” Thoughts are racing through your mind, words popping out to form some coherent thought before you rattle out your best plan. 

“I’ll distract Oikawa. You run as fast as you can to the panel,” you suggest. “And we pray some of the other rebels show up as back up.”

“That doesn’t sound like a very good plan,” Yachi bites the nail on her thumb.

“Well unless you have something better, I can’t think of anything else,” you respond, eyebrows raised and she shakes her head no. 

“So just walk behind Oikawa and hopefully he won’t see you. Once you’re out of his line of sight I’ll say something to get his attention,” you explain.

“Got it,” she nods, releasing your hand as she steps across your body to start moving towards the control center. The boys are still arguing and you get the sense that Tanaka knows you're there. Coincidentally, maneuvering his body to obscure Yachi until she isn’t visible to him.

“Tooru,” your voice echoes in the chamber. “How about we talk this out?”

His voice dies in his throat once he notices you. Somehow surprised that you would chase them down here. “I know I blew up on you in the past but just give me another chance. We can stall all of this,” you wave your hands around at the control center and all the volunteers. “And maybe come to a compromise.” 

Four minutes.

“Compromise? As if you even know the meaning of the word, princess,” there’s no endearment in his tone anymore. Just condescension and disgust. “I’ll start by killing your boyfriend and you can watch me. Then I’ll kill all your pathetic friends. Saving my sweet, sweet love for last,” his voice is eerily flat, similar to when he was speaking from the balcony earlier. 

Three minutes, twenty-three seconds.

“You son of a bitch, I’d like to see you try,” Tanaka growls, the sword that was pointed at the volunteers now positioned over Oikawa’s chest. “I’ll tear your heart out before you can lay a finger on her.”

“I sense a challenge,” Oikawa chuckles and steps so the tip of the sword is touching his chest. “Let’s test that. You heard him, right guys? Why don’t we see if this knight in shining armor can save his damsel in distress,” he knows he’s going to die here, he’s smiling from ear to ear at Tanaka and he reaches to wrap his hand around the sharp edge of the sword, blood spilling from his palm down his wrist. “Kill them.”

The volunteers bumble forward, their numbers overwhelming the three of you. Tanaka pulls his sword from Oikawa’s hand to go after them. Yachi is almost to the control panel, but a volunteer suddenly blocks her path, lunging to crush her beneath their fists. You sprint for her, she has a knife on her leg but it’s clear she forgot to reach for it. She ducks beneath their arm, she’s surprisingly agile despite her frequent clumsiness. There’s an opening between the monstrosity’s legs as they stupidly move to follow her. You slide on your knees straight between their legs to slice through their achille’s heel, cutting off the function of their lower body. They faceplant by Yachi’s feet as she shrieks from nearly being crushed as you climb the limp body, your fingers locating the implant and stabbing into the tough skin, the implant wiggling in your hands as you tear it out. The device latches on to your pointer finger to dig into your skin. You scream and shake it off immediately and it lands at Yachi’s feet before she stomps on it like a bug, the crunching resembling the sound of a cockroach beneath her boot.

There’s a grunt from Tanaka’s direction and you see he’s pinned Oikawa to the floor between his knees. The tussle looks like it’s in his favor when Oikawa rips the implant from the wound above his knee and attempts to insert it into the smooth skin of Tanaka’s neck. You stare as he screams in pain, the pincers scratching and cutting into him. You’re too far to use your dagger, you won’t make it before the implant is successfully transferred to him, so you reach for the pistol on your hip. You hold it out in front of you preparing your shot but it’s too risky. Tanaka’s back is to you and only with perfect aim will you be able to land a shot on Oikawa from over his shoulder, the trembling of your hands only worsening the situation.

Two minutes, twenty-five seconds.

The time will be out before you shoot your gun, before Yachi will make it to the control center. Despair ruining your disposition and any confidence you would have had taking this shot is snatched from you as Tanaka screams in pain. You position the gun as best you can, praying to any divine being who happens to hear you to bless you with perfect aim. You begin to squeeze the trigger, forcing your eyes to stay open, when an arrow comes whizzing past your cheek, the speed of it burning the soft skin. You stare in astonishment as it lodges itself in Oikawa’s eye, blood spraying everywhere from the impact and his body slumps to the ground, hand still clasping the implant as it fidgets in his fingertips. Tanaka cringes when he gets off of him and turns to Nishinoya, whose crossbow is still aimed at them and the tension in your shoulders ease slightly.

Your relief is short lived as you survey the situation. Nearly all of the rebels are here, but there are simply too many enemies and they don’t have enough energy to continue to fight. You jump from your spot to look for Yachi and she’s still running to the panel, the disaster gathered in the room preventing her from reaching it. You know it’s too late. Your naive dream beginning to wither away before your eyes so you rush to go get her. 

“Yachi, stop! It’s over,” You scream over the noise of the chaos around you, bodies strewn across the floor while blood begins to pool and smear everywhere. You are holding her arm, pulling her away from the control center in the middle of the room.

 “It’s not over, how could you give up so easily?! I can do this, you have to trust me! I am the only one who can decode the software. It’s my fault any of this is happening anyway. I did this!” Tears are flowing down her face in a violent stream. Her cheeks red with frustration and stress, eyes pleading with you to let her go. “I put all of you in danger! I’m an idiot and I should’ve been able to figure out their plan, but I had to go and try to prove myself to my mom! I-I had to ruin everything because I was so stupidly naive,” her voice was breaking around every syllable, guilt ripping through her. 

“But I can’t lose you!” The lump in your throat was making it difficult to speak as the only option dawned on you. The only option she is pleading for you trust her with. Tears are stinging at your eyes, threatening to spill over while you try desperately to hold them back. “Y-you’re my best friend,” you’re exhausted, the words sincere as they slide through the space between you. Yachi steps towards you, hand coming up to rest on your cheek to catch the stray tear slipping down. 

“I know and that’s why I need to do this. I need to save you. I need to save Yams. And the others. We can’t lose anymore lives because of something I created,” you let your eyes shut, all the fight you had leaving your body as your grip loosens on her arm. She wraps her arms around you for a final embrace, her body still for once, the trembling gone from her nerves as your arms hold her. “I know I can fix this, but I need for you to get as many people as you can out of here first,” she untangles herself from you. 

“There’s a large safe at the end of this hallway. The code is my birthday. Grab anyone left, anyone still alive and shut yourselves in there. I won’t be able to disconnect the devices in this building because I won’t have enough time so there will still be a loud explosion. When you hear that it’s safe to come out,” she takes a step away from you, expression fixed leaving you no room to argue. 

“O-okay,” you force the word from your lips because this was far from okay, “j-just know that, um, that I love you. So fucking much,” her figure begins to blur as the tears gather in your eyes. 

“I love you too, y/n. Promise me that you will make it out of here. Promise me that you will get to watch the sunset. A real one. For me,” she pleads and you blink to clear your vision, hot tears burning the raw skin of your under eyes. “Yes, I p-promise,” you choke on these last words. 

“Thank you. Now go, please” this is the calmest you have ever seen her as she steps away from you, body turning to clumsily run to the control panel. Time is moving in slow motion. The bodies around you moving in vivid detail. Every swing, punch, and kick are stuttering like a stop motion film. You don’t know if you’re breathing anymore, all of your functions glitching in a solitary moment of grief. 

“Hey, look at me!” You can hear Tanaka’s voice, see his figure pummeling towards you, but he’s fuzzy, out of focus. You think his hands are on your arms, but it feels distant and cold, a ghost of everything he is. “Hey!” He shakes you aggressively, your brain fighting against the current of sorrow dragging you below the murky surface. “Don’t let the last words you said to her be a lie! Don’t break this promise!” 

You cut through the surface and see Tanaka clearly. He’s covered in blood, his neck bleeding from where Oikawa punctured his skin with the implant. “We have to go. You have to go,” he shoves you to the exit, your motor functions working on autopilot. You grab who you can as you run for the safe. Yelling orders and instructions to anyone who can hear you. 

One minute, seventeen seconds.

Suga’s at your side holding up Ennoshita while Daichi is calling for people to rush to the safe. You make it there first, and incorrectly punch in the code at first, the small numbers duplicating, but you get it right the second try. The heavy door swinging open with surprising ease as you move out the way to let Suga and Ennoshita in before you. A few of the other guys bolt in soon after and you just stand there waiting for Tanaka, waiting for Yamaguchi, and Kenma, and Yachi. 

Yamaguchi cuts the corner first, Terushima on his tail. You feel a flash of relief when you see them, the distance between you closing rapidly. Yamaguchi trips over the step into the safe, but Terushima catches him before he makes contact with the ground, mumbling something to him that you can’t quite make out. 

Tanaka’s next and he’s screaming at you but you hardly hear him over the commotion. You hardly register the distance until he’s right in front of you again. “What are you doing just standing here?!” He yells. “Let’s go,” he practically lifts you into the room and holds your back to his chest against one of the metal walls, preventing you from running out again. 

You can’t tell who else enters the safe, your panic and grief merging in a merciless waltz. The door slams shut and Daichi is the last to come in, his strong hands holding firm on the handle. Your eyes now begin to scan the bodies in the room, some fine with just a few cuts and bruises, others worse, bleeding dangerously from various points in their body. You count like you did before any of this started. 

Twenty-six. Minus one. Twenty-five. 

You start from the corner opposite you, whispering number to face to name. 

Twenty-one, orange hair, brown eyes: Hinata. Twenty-two, flash of blonde, fixed glare: Nishinoya. Twenty-three, disheveled black hair-

“Where’s Kenma?” Kuroo’s voice breaks your trance. There’s only twenty-four people in the safe. 

“Where’s Kenma?” You repeat, fighting Tanaka’s grip to bolt to the door. 

“Daichi!” Kuroo screams. “Answer me!”

“He stayed behind,” Daichi’s shoulders fall in defeat. “Said something about this being his final move. That this was game over for him and the prize for winning would be our lives. Then stuck something on the door and told me to tell you that he’s,” he pauses, his usually solid voice wavering. “He said he’s not a loser.” 

“And you let him?!” Kuroo runs at him, intent on pulling him away from the door and ripping it open. “He’s an idiot! I have to go get him!” Daichi locks Kuroo’s arms behind his back. “Let me go!” He’s kicking and shoving, but Daichi refuses to stand down. “There’s still time! I HAVE TIME TO SAVE HIM!”

“There is no time, Tetsuro! We are out of time!” At this moment the floor rumbles, the walls vibrate as they shield you from the brunt of the blast. Kuroo’s reaction is visceral,  a primal scream blowing out his vocal chords as dust starts to fall from the ceiling. You watch Hinata fall to his knees, the inhibited light dimming in his eyes as his head falls in his hands, body convulsing with sobs. 

00:00

You’re drowning, your lungs are full of water, air sticking to the lining of your esophagus, the burning pain of no oxygen clouding your brain. Your head heavy on your neck, the effort of holding up your body wearing away as you let all of your weight fall back on Tanaka. His own body sliding down the wall until you’re both on the floor, you wailing pathetically between his legs and he just holds you to his chest, even when you resist and scream for him to leave you alone, he silently holds you. 

No one makes a move to leave. The burden of losing people weighing heavy in the tight, crowded room. 

You don’t remember too much after this. The solemn, dreadful walk back to the hideout is syrupy, your body hardly moving through the thickness of desolation. You stumble over bodies and slip on spilled blood, the aftermath of the explosion evident on every surface, making your ascent cumbersome as you climb out. The familiar fog an odd comfort concealing you from intrusive eyes. 

The hideout is stale and uneasy. Your heartbeat pulsing irregularly in your chest, grief induced anesthetic numbing your bloodstream. Tanaka’s room is dark and his bed looks unusually comfortable. You lurch towards it, but Tanaka stops you. His arms pulling you into the bathroom, the shower already running with steam creeping over the top of the glass door. He helps you undress and step into the tub, tying your hair up in a messy bun before the water hits you. He steps in behind you and swipes a wet cloth over your body. Blood, dirt, and dust turning the water at your feet a translucent brown as it disappears down the drain. 

Tanaka wraps new gauze around your waist, the sting of the alcohol barely noticeable anymore. You’re wearing one of his t-shirts as he tucks you into bed. His body settling in beside you, his strong arms cradling you in his embrace as he whispers gentle words of affirmation into your hair. His soothing voice eventually lulling you into a dreamless slumber. 

You wake up unexpectedly, the sounds of your own whimpers breaking the awful silence. “I’m here,” Tanaka pets your hair. “I’m not going anywhere, I’m right here,” he reassures you as his arms press you deeper to his chest. Your fingers clinging to the sheet draped over his bare torso. 

He leans down to pepper kisses across your tear stained cheeks. His lips connecting with every inch of skin. You tilt your face to catch his lips in a slow kiss, his movements initially hesitant. You drift your fingers to outline his collarbone, tracing along each line of muscle and ridge of scar tissue, determined to memorize all his imperfections. Determined to cement the entirety of his physique into your memory so he will never fade if he ever leaves you too. 

Your fingers stop at the waistband of his underwear, toying with the elastic before you venture further down as you sketch the dip of his hip bone, the sharpness of his pelvis, and the strength of his relaxed thigh behind your closed eyelids. He stops you before you can delve deeper. “We shouldn’t,” is all he says, lips still slotted perfectly between yours. 

“I want you, Ryu,” you’re aware of the desperation in your tone, aware of your need for physical touch emitting off of you in heady rays. “Please.” 

He screws his eyes shut, his internal dialogue written all over his handsome features. It’s not because he doesn’t want to, the evidence of his quiet arousal mere inches from your fingertips. He’s afraid of hurting you, afraid of pushing you too far even though you’re asking for this, but you want to show him how much you want him. How much you need him. 

How much you love him.

You gently pry your wrist from his loose grasp to massage the soft skin of his erection, slowing your motions when he stiffens. “Let me,” you plead beneath your breath. 

“Let me feel you, let me know you’re here.” 

You feel him nod above you, his body relaxing into your touch, his hips rutting gently into your palm until he’s painfully hard. He shifts to caress the back of your neck, tilting your head to look at him as he places a lingering kiss to your forehead. His lips smoothing over your features before he melts into you again. His kisses are slow and passionate, a welcome distraction to the flurry of disheartening emotions plaguing you. 

He rolls the both of you over so he’s resting on his elbows above you and removes your hand from his cock to place it over his heart. The action is cheesy but you can feel the heartbeat beneath his muscle. The steady, rhythmic pulse pumping blood through his veins, a sign that he is alive, that he’s breathing and he’s with you. 

You fight the tears begging to spill over, fearing that you might ruin the moment. He strokes your cheek, thumb rubbing soothing circles beneath the skin of your eyes. 

“I’m gonna touch you, okay?” His voice is broken from exhaustion and vulnerability, but his hand moves to shift your panties to the side when you nod for him to continue. His fingers slipping between your folds to gather the slick at your entrance, circling your clit lightly. You lift your hips to roll into his fingers, silently asking for more as your pleasure begins to prickle at your nerves. 

He begins to move away from you and for a moment you think he’s going to stop, instead he pulls himself from his boxers and strokes whatever slick he gathered over his erection. The tip of his cock a blossoming red as he continues to touch himself. “Ryu, hurry,” you whine, impatience beginning to nag at you, body seeking the delirious sensation of pleasure. 

“I’ll take care of you, don’t worry,” his voice is soft, the meaning of his words holding avenues of interpretations as he positions himself at your entrance. His arm shakes with strain beside your face as he pushes his head past your initial ring of muscle, stopping midway to thrust shallowly. Despite your begging for him to hurry up, you’re still tense, your walls clenching tight around him. 

“Baby, I need you to relax,” he says through gritted teeth, the efforts of restraining himself lock his muscles into place, but you take a deep breath at his words, allowing your legs to fall open around his hips, crossing your ankles behind the small of his back. 

“Move,” your breath catches in your throat as he thrusts a little deeper that time. “I’ll be fine, just move.” 

He looks at you for a long moment, eyes searching yours for even a semblance of doubt. When he doesn’t find it, he rests his forehead on yours, eyes closed as he sheathes himself inside you entirely. You feel too full when he doesn’t follow through so you wiggle your hips to press firmly into his, a low groan reverberating through his chest as you grind against him, your arms stationed securely around his neck. 

Not too long after he begins to meet the rocking of your hips, his movements deliberate and measured. You keen into his touch as his head falls to rest beside your neck, mouthing the skin to muffle his moans as his pace quickens. 

He slips his arms beneath your back, hugging you tightly to his chest. The new angle sends a jolt of electric pleasure through your veins, his thrusts are determined as he searches for your release. 

“Not gonna last long,” he groans into your neck, fingers digging into your sides as he tries to stall his own release. You’re closer than he thinks though, your head is swimming with euphoria, brain clouded with the tastes of ecstasy. 

“Don’t stop, Ryu. I’m so close,” you beg, your voice dripping with desire. You feel one of his hands move to fist the sheet below you as he breaks his steady pace, the force of his hips jostling you passionately. The pressure building in your abdomen is unbearable, his cock slamming into your sensitive walls fervently. 

“Fuck,” you moan into his ear as your senses crash, your body singing with unexpected bliss. His thrusts begin to falter, his own release on the horizon as his grip on you hardens. 

“M’gonna come,” he stutters out, voice gravelly with need. “Need you to move, so I, shit,” he’s struggling to get his words out as the hand fisting the sheet moves to wrap around your calf. “So I can pull out,” he groans and pushes on your leg to unlock your ankles. 

“No,” you refuse. “Inside, just come inside, please Ryu” he never has, the implications too dangerous for him to ever consider, but right now you need to feel every part of him. 

“Baby,” he whines, his voice an octave higher. The desperation in your tone crumbling his resolve and before he can say no he’s spilling inside you. The sporadic contractions of your walls around his cock coupled with the way you whimper his name against the shell of his ear is what ruins him. 

He collapses on top of you, his dense weight flattening you into the mattress as he twitches inside you. You don’t mind the heaviness, content with falling asleep just like this but he rolls the both of you on your sides, probably realizing he was crushing you. 

His face is still nestled in the groove of your neck when you feel him chuckle against your skin. “Can’t believe you tricked me into doing that?” A small smile stretching his lips on your shoulder. 

“Trick? I wouldn’t it call it that,” a matching smile plays on your features. 

“It was sneaky and you know it.” You laugh despite everything that happened today. 

“I love you,” you never said it back, but you’re certain now as your body flows with appreciation. 

“I love you too.”

June 18, 2065

6:38am

It’s too early to wake up, but your mind disregards your obvious fatigue when you find yourself on Tanaka’s balcony. The events of last night looping perpetually in your head as you stare at the city that was supposed to be demolished. There’s no movement, hardly any noise beside the buzzing neon sign flickering four floors down. It’s as if everyone is in mourning. A victory cause for celebration, but the density of grief burdens the atmosphere. 

“What’re doing up?” Tanaka appears behind you, arms enclosing around your waist. 

“Couldn’t sleep anymore,” you reply dryly. He hums behind you and rests his chin on your head as you two watch the sky change from a deep purple to the dull pink that never cuts through the fog. 

“What now?” You ask, not really expecting an answer. 

“I’m not sure,” he shrugs, this transition stretching into miles of uncharted area. 

“We leave,” he says, finally. 

“Where would we even go?” Confusion laces your tone. The two of you have never left Tokyo, partially because it was impossible with the barrier surrounding the city.

“Miyagi,” he says as if he’s familiar with the prefecture. 

“I don’t know,” you hesitate. “There was a project I wanted to complete for,” your voice fades into the early morning. The image of the simulation machine popping into your mind as you remember the pixelated beach glitching in the large room. The last moment you had with him. 

“Bring it with you,” Tanaka suggests as he turns you in his embrace to look at him.

“What’s in Miyagi?” His adamant stare confusing you further. 

“My sister,” he’s never mentioned her before, and you raise your eyebrows in question. “A few of the rebels left here right before you showed up to search for others. She led them,” he explains. 

“I hadn’t heard from her until she called me two days ago. I was worried something happened, but she’s fine,” he shakes his head. 

“I obviously didn’t get the chance to tell you, but she’s there and they found more than they were expecting.”

“How did they even get past the barrier?” 

“Kenma.” His tone softens around his name, but you're not the least bit surprised that he managed to break down the barrier. 

“Of course.” You rest your head against his chest.

“The rebellion is stronger there. We may have a chance to save all of Japan. Not just Tokyo,” you process his words, unsure of how to respond. 

“And,” he cups your neck so you’re staring into his eyes. “The sun sets in Miyagi.”

[emilia3546]

Shadowsinger Part 23 - Gwynriel

ACOSF Spoilers! Do Not read this unless you have finished ACOSF and the Azriel bonus chapter*

Masterlist with all previous chapters

*****

Azriel held her close all night, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other cradling her head against his chest where Gwyn lay practically on top of him. She blinked as the sunlight coursed through the curtains, and brushed Azriel's hair back out of his face,

"You need a haircut," she chuckled when he opened his eyes and she laughed when the arm around her waist tightened, "Thank you," she whispered, unable to really explain what he'd done for her last night, but he just nodded, brushing a hand through her hair, refusing to let go when she wriggled, "You don't want me to go,"

"No, but I know that you need to, I just want you to be careful, remember your promise,"

"I know, I'll be fine, I'm not the one fighting everyone,"

"It's not proper fighting, just a taste, they'll have no idea what's hit them if I do fight any of them properly." Gwyn snorted,

"I'm sure," she laughed, "Are you going to let me go?"

"Don't want to," Azriel rolled sideways and tugged Gwyn closer, planting a kiss on the top of her head, "I'd stay here forever if I could."

"Here?"

"Alone, with you, not worrying about the world," Gwyn eased back enough to meet his gaze,

"We'll have that time, I promise, there you go, another promise, seems I can't help but make them to you," she wriggled her way out of his arms, "You need to get up, or we'll both be late." Azriel groaned, but Gwyn made sure he was getting up before sorting herself out, going as far as dragging the duvet away from him, earning wild complaints, and glares, but, sleepy as he was, Gwyn couldn't help but laugh as he dragged himself to the bathroom.

Gwyn sighed when she pulled on her dress, wishing she could get away with something easier to fight and move in, not that the corset was an issue, it didn't restrict her, but she still marveled at how it could fit properly whilst not obstructing her wings. The skirt however, was an issue, Illyrians favored full skirts, and while she could run, she didn't fancy her chances in a proper fight, in a little one she would be alright, but she didn't like it.

She was brushing through her hair when Azriel appeared behind her, stealing the brush form her hand,

"Az! Give it back," she complained, but he just twirled a finger, and she huffed as she turned back to the mirror, sighing when he kept working through the more stubborn tangles and knots. She couldn't help but smile at the way his brows bunched when he was concentrating on a particular knot.

"What are you grinning about?"

"You, being all adorable," Azriel didn't get a chance to respond before someone pounded on the door, Gwyn jumped up to answer it, leaving Azriel to pretend to be gathering his kit for training, but she relaxed at the sigh of Laylah at the door,

"Amirah," she sobbed, "Thank the Cauldron, I was so worried I'd have gotten it wrong, please let me in," Gwyn stepped aside, quietly closing the door behind her,

"What is it?" Laylah made to speak, but shook her head at the sight of Azriel,

"He won't hurt you," Gwyn promised, "He's not like some of these others,"

"He's not?"

"No, he's not."

"Oh gods, my father is going to kill me, I ran away, just like he thought I would. I had to, you have to understand, he wanted to marry me to a human! A prince, but a human, he'll be old and grey in no time, I can't, I just can't do it, I won't!"

"It's okay, it's okay, you don't have to do anything you don't want to,"

"Okay, okay, can we stay here for a moment?"

"Yeah, okay, Gavin's heading off to training, he'll be back later, we can stay here if you like,"

"Thank you, you won't tell my father?" Azriel offered a gentle smile,

"Tell him what?" He nodded to Gwyn as he slipped out,

"Did your father say why?"

"He wants to build alliances, and marriage does that, but if I were to marry him, I would be surrounded by people who hate me, I didn't think even my father would be cruel enough for that. He said, I don't really understand,"

"What? It's okay, you're safe here,"

"He said that if they were to pull something off, to get the Spymaster and General in one go, all it would take would be a little reassurance and he'd get what he wanted,"

"Oh gods, did he say anything about that plan?"

"No, but he had some papers on his desk he was writing on last night, I wasn't supposed to see,"

"Thank you, please Laylah, stay here. I'll be back as soon as I can."

"But where are you going?"

"To try and save lives."

Gwyn kept her head down but hurried as fast as she could to Laylah's room, and froze at the sight of a male there, she'd expected him to be at training, all the others were. She didn't give him a chance to shout, or move, her fist connecting with his nose with such force that it crumpled under the impact, and her strike to his temple sent him tumbling to the ground. Papers, something about attacking Az and Cass, together, to kill them both. She let her instincts guide her, not quite knowing what she was looking for, but there it was, a battle plan, or less of a battle plan, more an ambush plan, shit.

She was about to rush back to her room, not even bothering to copy the plan, they'd be long gone before anyone discovered it was gone, but there were voices outside the door, one voice she recognized, Azriel's half brother. If it really was him, he would recognize them, both of them, she had to get Azriel out, now. She dived into the bathroom, freezing as the door flew open, revealing the very male she'd hoped was dead, along with three others.

"Shit, go and get him, now, I'll find the redhead." That voice, it was that same voice, she was going to make him pay for what he'd done to Azriel, several times over. She would never beat them there, and with Azriel surrounded by hostile Illyrians, they couldn't just fight their way out. She was on the first floor, she could get across the courtyard to the training pitch, and pretend, what, that she was ill? No, she'd pretend that someone had tried to touch her, that was allowed to get Azriel's attention.

She threw the window open, and flared her wings as she fell through the air, not quite flight, but it had slowed her fall enough that she could roll to recover, sprinting for the training pitch, racing those nameless males who sought to hurt her, what? She wasn't scared, she refused to be scared any longer. She loved him, and she chose him, he was one of the only things she'd ever chosen, and she chose him, not because of anything else, but because of him, and anyone who sought to hurt him would die before they reached him.

She staggered on her feet when she opened the door to the training pitch,

"Gavin!" She screamed, and Azriel's head shot up from the corner he was currently wrestling another male in, "Gavin please, he's scaring me!" She forced herself to cry, gasping when Azriel launched into the air, landing just in front of her, "It wasn't my fault, please, I tried, he just,"

"Amirah, not here, outside," she sniffed and nodded, letting Azriel guide her away, "What's the matter,"

"Your brother, he's here, he knows we're here, he's coming, we have to go, now! I got a plan for an ambush form Laylah's father, but we have to go, and we have to take her with us,"

"Okay," Azriel nodded, and Gwyn's heart swelled at the way he wouldn't hesitate to help a female he barely knew, again.

"We can't go that way," Gwyn tugged Azriel round the corner, "I came across that way, probably looked really suspicious, but he's coming from that way,"

"I can't winnow in here, the wards are too strong, back here, come on, there's a servants' staircase, we should be able to fit, hopefully," Gwyn ran, Azriel at her side, squeezing through the narrow gap, and practically dragged Azriel through, she was already running when he checked for any guards, sprinting down the corridor beside her, "Where is she?"

"Our room,"

"Shit, I'll get her, I can fly out of the window, then it's a clear shot to get away, you get out, the back entrance,"

"No, I won't leave you," Azriel spun on his heels, pinning Gwyn against the wall as someone ran past, panting as they didn't take notice of them,

"Please, Gwyn, you have to,"

"I can't, I won't leave you, you can carry two, and you'll need my help to fight if they find you." She was right, she knew she was right, and she didn't blame him for the reluctance in his gaze, the conflict at knowingly putting her in danger, "I promised we'd have time, but we have to fight for it, both of us."

"Okay."

*****

With that one word he shattered any worries he still had, calming his fears as he hauled Gwyn's mouth to his, that ghost of a kiss the last he'd get until they were safe again,

"Stay alive," she murmured,

"We fight as one,"

"Always." There were three guard positions between them and their room, with two or three guards each, he sent his shadows ahead to find how many there were at the first, two, nice and easy. They sprinted through the corridors, and just before that guard post Gwyn nodded and sprinted forward, faster than before, slamming to a halt when one of the guards burst out to chase her down. She pivoted, slamming her elbow up into his throat, and he fell immediately, just in time for her to turn to catch the second guard's wrist, stepping across to flip him to the ground, stumbling once on her skirt before drawing her dagger and slamming the hilt into the guard's temple as he struggled to rise, knocking him back to the ground, unconscious.

She looked back to Azriel and he nodded approvingly,

"Looks like you don't need me anymore," he teased, and she just glared, grabbing her skirts,

"I can't fight in this," she complained, "Not properly, gimme that," she drew a sword from Azriel's belt slicing the bottom of the skirt away above her knees, "That's better, I'll just scandalize them into submission," she winked, and Azriel couldn't help the chuckle from breaking out of him,

"You okay?" She nodded,

"Let's get out of here."

The second guard position had two guards, and Azriel smirked at Gwyn as they approached,

"My turn," he stopped and knocked on the door, smiling as the guard realized he was the one they were supposed to be looking for and opened his mouth to shout, backing away, but not fast enough as Azriel's fist connected with his nose. The second guard was faster, darting sideways, only inches from the warning bell when Azriel swept his legs out from underneath him, almost wincing at the crack as he fell hard on the floor, not needing a second blow to knock him out,

"Not bad," Gwyn chuckled, "But yours were closer to sounding the alarm, I win,"

"We'll see about that, Valkyrie,"

"Nothing more to see, Shadowsinger," Azriel laughed again, already running down the corridor,

"You're doing great with your wings now,"

"I'm pretty much used to them by now, it'll probably be weird when Feyre vanishes them again," she laughed, "Guards, three o'clock"

"One each, fastest gets the third," she grinned confidently, and Azriel laughed to himself, there was no way he was letting her win this one, he downed his guard with one blow, cursing as Gwyn managed the same, his shadows flashing out to disorient the third, letting Azriel reach him first. He dodged the wild dagger throw before tackling him to the ground and squeezed a pressure point on his neck to knock him out without hurting him too badly.

"You cheat!" Gwyn complained, "I'll get you for that!"

"I look forward to it," Azriel raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking up at a scream from the end of the corridor, from their room. He paused outside for a moment, trying to gauge what was happening,

"I don't know! Please, who the hell is Azriel?" Laylah, she was still there then, a shadow slipped under the door, three males, including his brother, he gestured for Gwyn to wait a moment and threw the door open, a dagger already flying for the male holding on to Laylah. She screamed and fell away as the male hissed in pain, pressing a hand to the dagger in his side,

"Wonderful, a family reunion," Azriel forced himself to wait, this male was a monster, but he had a job to do, "We've missed you, little brother,"

"You are not my brother." Azriel snapped, "Let the girl go,"

"Or what?"

"I don't think you want to find out," he snarled, but his brother's attention had flicked over his shoulder,

"So this is the Priestess, she with you now? Doesn't matter, she's not leaving here, shame though, pretty little thing," he broke off with a cry when Gwyn's dagger buried into the base of his wing, and he dropped to the ground, whimpering in pain, especially when she rushed forwards, leaving Azriel to threaten the last male back,

"Now," Gwyn said, her voice like cold death, "Unless you want me to find out exactly how much it hurts when I cut this off, tell me what your plan was,"

"Kill him," the male shrieked, and Gwyn grasped the dagger's handle, "Don't! Please, we were going to kill him, Azriel, and the other one, the General, I was going to use Laylah's father to get control of Illyria," he screamed when Gwyn drew the dagger out, driving her knee up into his groin,

"That's for threatening Az," she snarled, and Azriel hesitated for a moment, somehow still shocked at the proof of how she felt, giving the last male a chance to attack while he was distracted, forcing Gwyn to throw her dagger again, burying it up to the hilt in the last male's chest, "Are you okay?" She demanded,

"Fine, what about him?" He gestured to his brother, now trying to crawl away,

"Your call,"

"We should bring him back in chains," Gwyn stepped onto his injured wing, and he whimpered again, falling still, "We can't kill him yet, no matter how much I want to, I'm not sure I can carry all three of you," Gwyn looked out of the window,

"How far do the wards go?"

"About fifty meters,"

"I can climb down there and run that, wait just outside, and be ready to winnow,"

"That's too dangerous,"

"Then leave me the shadows, take Laylah and this idiot and wait there for me, I'm right behind you," Azriel couldn't leave her, she was right, and he knew she could do it, but he would have to leave her. If he left the shadows they could break up her outline, make it difficult to hit her, and she was fast, but he would have to leave her.

"I can't."

"You have to. I'm right behind you, I promise." Another promise, he had to let her do this, he trusted her with his life, he had to trust her with her own,

"Stay alive," he parroted from earlier, and Gwyn laughed,

"I'll see you in a minute," she threw the window open as wide as it would go, and climbed out, finding a foothold to start climbing as Azriel knocked his brother out, throwing him over a shoulder and extended a hand to Laylah.

"Hold on, whatever you do, do not let go,"

"You're the Spymaster," she whispered, "You were here the whole time, you can get me out of here?" Azriel nodded,

"We'll keep you safe," Laylah nodded, stepping up to him, and wrapped her arms around him, helping to hold on to his unconscious brother as she did so, squeezing her eyes shut as he dived out of the window, flapping furiously to keep high enough in the air to distract attention from Gwyn's shadow-shrouded form just reaching the floor. She looked up once before she sprinted forwards, and Azriel looked back to her the moment he landed, she was so close, so, so, close, just a few more steps.

She stumbled, and fell, an arrow protruding from her back. Azriel screamed in rage, making to run for her, but she was back up, reaching for his hand. Laylah was still gripping his arm, holding his brother as shadows encircled them, winnowing them away, back to where he'd stashed all their spare supplies. The moment they landed, he yanked out of Laylah's grip, his heart racing as he reached for Gwyn, only to find her laughing as she yanked the arrow out, no blood on it.

"Finally something a corset's good for," she snorted, "It struck one of the bones of the corset, never even touched me, I just got the impact,"

"Oh gods," Azriel murmured, "I thought I'd lost you,"

"You can't get rid of me that easily," she chuckled, but didn't complain when he folded her into his arms, still checking that she really was uninjured, the unbridled fear that had been racing through his blood fading slightly as she wrapped her arms around him. He couldn't fathom losing her, not now after everything, not when she was all his dreams come true. "Always," she whispered, "I meant it, you know, it's going to take more than an arrow to separate us."

[gojngdown]

anna reacts to scaled and icy because i just took the ap calculus test and i need a reward after descending into the pits of hell

what i know going into this is: no dema theories at all idk the storyline AT ALL, apparently mulberry street is godsend. LETS GO

good day: RADIOHEAD VIBES?? NVM?? NVM OMG BOPPING OK WE ARE BOPPING!!! YESSSS GO OFF TYLER :D is this about ro omg🥺 ITS CUUUTE,, SO CUUUUTE omg the UKULELE NOSTALGIAANDBDBDNNDNDNDN🥺🥺.. the bridge... it’s true :((((... omg omg i LOVE THE BRIDGE,,,, been feeling it a lot lately I LOVE IT THE BRASS🥺! i like the slightly melancholy vibe behind it all,, and the vocals,, but also it’s CUUTE and mellow yess OKAY

choker: OMG I LOVE THE PRODUCTION ALREADY!!!! I LOVE THIS NEW SOUND🥺 omg 14 year old me likes this song best i already know,, THE CHORUS,, okay this gives me the postal service vibes?? do y’all know the postal service?? it’s the drums and the electronics. and half-alive too hehe. I CANT GET OVER THIS CHORUS ITS THE BEST PART OH MY GOD THE PIANOOOOOO,,, okay i haven’t heard this live at all but i just KNOW he would open this with some piano,, u know the PIANO,, why are tøp bridges so good😓 RAP OH MY GOD,,, oh my god TTSG VIBES A LITTLE BIT,, TAXI CAB REFERENCES?1?1?2): OH MY GOD THAT WAS TOTALLY A TAXI CAB REFERENCE IDC IF THAT WAS LORE THAT WAS TAXI CAB

shy away: OK IVE HEARD THIS ONE BEFORE,,, what a BOP! yes! these lyrics are so,,, i need to like PROCESS PLEASE RHFBDJFBDNDNBD THEYRE GOING TOO FAST😭 A STRAIGHT UP BOP AND THE VOCALS SOB THE SCREAMING IN THE BACK PLEASE THE PRODUCTION IS SO GOOOOOOOD🥺 please tyler do screamo stop teasing me the PRODUCTION I CANT PROCESS

the outside: OOOOOO??) YES JOSH🥰 the ukulele version of this would be so good,, MARCH TO THE SEA REFERENCE😭 THE JSHDJDBFJD i feel like the entire album is leading up to a screamo track CAN WE PLEASE GET A SCREAMO TRACK anyway this song PLEASE GIVE US WHAT WE WANT IN THIS LAST CHORUS TYLER I BELIEVE IN YOU OH MY GOD THE RAP YESSSSSSSSSSSSS GIVE ME PET CHEETAH hehehe i’m nodding yes CAN YOU IMAGINE THE PERFORMANCE EVERYONE GOING NOD NOD LMAO yes💃 PLEASE LEAD UP TO SCREAMO?? no ok RAP IS FINE THANK YOU!!!! i have not read any interpretations but i like the mockery of popular language

saturday: OOOOOOOOOOO PLEASE GUVE ME A PARTY TRACK!!!! OKAY WAIT VIBING YES! YES THIS IS WAHT SATURDAY FEELS LIKE🥺 yes i have lost my footing too bff :(( YES THE CHORUS YES EXAXTLY THIS HITS THANK YOU!1!!1!1!!!!!! WE PAINT THE TOWN YESSSSSS YESSSSSSS THIS IS SO GOOD I THINK ITS MY FAV SO FAR... it feels like quarantine like making the best of it,,, to me anyway THE OCEAN YES guys i love the ocean please FLOATING CIRCLES IN MY FISHBOWL YES THATS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE THIS IS A QUARANTINE SONG UWU OHNKY GOD THE SAMPLE!!! YESSSSSS okay this is my favorite so far i reALLY LOVE IT!! YES THE EDNING SO GROOVY AND THE AD LIBS IM IN LOVE YOUR HONOR

never take it: OHBWOW??? the production im reeling the CONTRAST i could write an essay RIGHT NOW ,, I NEED TO PROCESS HOLD ON WOWWWW I LOVE IT !! yes rebel against the government <3 PLEASE CAN WE GET SCREAMO THIS HAS SUCH SCREAMO POTENTIAL😔 YES HE SCREAMED PLEASE GO OFF PLEASE PLEASEEEEEEE IM BEGGING YOU OH KY GOD THE LITTLE VOCALS THE FALSETTO🥳🥳 the bridge is interesting,, THEY PROFIT FROM A GREAT DIVIDE IM REEEEELINGGGGG i love the lyrics of this one the most i think just based on this first listen and the CONTRAST IN PRODUCTION AS IT RELATES TO THE LYRICS PLEASE

mulberry street: OKAY THIS IS THE ONE EVERYONE LIKES SHHDJDBDJ,, okay,, OKG I LOVE IT SO FAR WOW THE DJDHFJFNDKFJ THE MUTED YES the actual vibes of this i love it!! we’re pushing sideways🥳🥳💃💃 IT FEELS LIKE THESE TWO EMOJIS 😎💃. THE KEEP YOUR BLISS THERES NOTHING WRONG WITH THIS IM ADDICTED (ironic lmao) MOVE OUT OF OUR WAY UWUWUWU😎 YES TIME FOR A TØP BRIDGE,,, oh my god.... speechless... OH MY GOD THE SWITCH???? FUCK YES THIS IS SO YESSSSSSSSS!!!! the absolute VIBES! GET OUT OF OUR WAY HITSSSSS i need the keep your bliss as my text tone or something why is that so good

formidable: ok vibing yes.. is this for jenna... ITS CUUTE🥺 ILL FOLLOW YOU🥺🥺.. THIS IS SO GOOD !! i love it oh my god... OHNMY GOD SO CUTE SJDHDJFB again this would be so good on the ukulele please and I LOVE THE LYRICS!!! SO MUCH TO THINK ABOUT

bounce man: CAN WE GET ANOTHER PARTY TRACK😎 omg the flute yeaaaa 😙 it’s like cute partners in crime i like it,, a little melancholy but like EMBRACING it if that makes sense,, like a song for an old friend

no chances: PLEASE GIVE ME THE SCREAMO THE ABSOLUTE VIBES PLEASE PLEASE IM READY PLEase... the ANTICIPATIONZZZzzz.. HEAVYDIRTYSOUL VIBES HEHE OOOOOOOOO🤨 the prechorus is so different😳 OOOOOH THE LIKE CHOIR AND THE RAP OMG SNDBDBDN I FEEL LIKE THERES A LOT OF LORE IN THIS ONE HEHEHE🤩 MY SONVV??? MY SUN???? uhm hey @vialism did you... anyway...:!?:&3!;&; this is more mellow than i thought it was gonna be djdhdjfbfj idk why i feel so safe right now :((... but like still... the CHORUS.!.!,!,!,!,... SO LIKE... EERIE,,,, i’m imagining the live performance rn OOOO there is so much lore behind this i just know it and BTW THE PRODUCTION

redecorate: THAT ENDED SO ABRUPTLY?? is it time for the sad track at the end,,, oh no this is more vibes.. OH NO THIS IS SAD... OH NO.... THE SHADOW DRHE DBDBXNNNNN I LOVE THIS SO MYCH ALREADY AT LEAST LET ME CLEAN MY ROOM😭,,, HOLY SHIT I LOVE IT..,., the lyrics i’m speechless waitnfbdbdnfnfnn take a breath before you break in i’m actually in shock the lyrics the lyrics... FUCK ITS ENDING NOOOOO :((( the album is ending that went too fast :((( the live version of this song is going to be (already is? lol) so gooooooood., it’s over :(((

NOOOOO IT ENDED

come back

i needed the screamo track

gimme

anyways

in conclusion, this album is gay