#but he didn’t have to go all out with his post trial confession in the wake of Nick’s anger and betrayal

[majoringinsarcasm]

This is purely my own headcanon but I truly am a “if NRMT were to be canon and it’s not and I hope it never is bc I don’t trust capcom or like most ppl who I find annoying who also like these two” but Miles confesses first in my as close to canon as possible brain. He went on a year long death journey and his words to Phoenix at the end of JFA about how he helped him and all that shit. COMBINED with the utter and total surprise of Phoenix “I trust him?” Wright. Like yes that was his childhood friend who he wanted to help and he DID but that guy wouldn’t know romantic feelings for Edgeworth unless the man hit him with his car and proposed afterward.

Miles truly is fell first, fell so hard he broke a bone, spends another decade doing his job that I have many feelings about, helps get Phoenix’s badge back, another year of being back in LA. And then confesses.

I love romantic Phoenix as a concept but that man is so. He has very specific ideas of people and the placement of them in his life he probably doesn’t see Miles as a romantic option and just does not open that door. It’s probably there. But it’s all being filtered through strained friendship and he just doesn’t notice what stuff goes into the romantic love door and what goes into the regular friendship door. So when Miles confesses he needs a week to open the door and unpack all the shit he just did not process to even sort out if he feels the same. And then if he does how the fuck does he handle it.

But yeah Miles Confesses First I don’t write you all the time but know you’re the truth in my heart

[austerity-audacity-asceticism]

The atomic habits of St. Therese of Lisieux

I used to be one of those people that were like “oh I love St. Joan of Arc, St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Paul, St. Teresa of Avila” because I thought they were Cool and Heroic and they did Big Things

And whenever someone would talk about “The Little Flower of Lisieux” I was like “mehhhhh… okay”

Not in a way that was totally disrespectful, but not totally aware of the enormity of her interior life

Because guys

Wow

You’d have to read The Story of the Soul to really appreciate just WHY she is a doctor of the Church

(She’s the Doctor of Divine Love, btw)

Because St. Therese? She was in the details

They like to say the devil is in the details, but let’s face it— God is in the details, and in his mercy and wisdom, he placed St. Therese there for us to learn from and imitate in our own ways

She had to reconcile her great desire to be a saint with the enormous legacies of the saints that came before her, especially Joan of Arc and St. Teresa of Avila

(She, along with St. Joan, are the patron saints of France. I’m sure that’s something St. Therese never dreamed of)

And she had the realization that God would not have given her a desire that she was incapable of, and that there must be a way for someone “as small as her” to become a great saint

Which lead her to meditate on Mathew 18:4 (Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven)

And she was like “oh, okay. This desire planted into my heart is an invitation to become a little child, because the Lord wants to be the one to carry me to Heaven” 

(I am heavily paraphrasing so that you guys won’t be spoiled for Story of a Soul. Go read it!!!)

All of this is to say that her writings and her life reflect a simple but profound theology 

The Little Way is one of total dependence on the providence of God, of total surrender and self-mortification— the emptying of the cup of one’s self little by little, so that the Lord can fill it with his graces and abundance, and ultimately, with His own divine self 

The Little Way is one of the smallest acts of radical love, because the only person who needs to see it is God 

The Little Way is St. Therese going out of her way to nurse the nuns that she didn’t get along well with 

The Little Way is St. Therese is doing her best to hold cheerful conversations with a particularly surly nun 

The Little Way is St. Therese relishing being splashed with dirty laundry water as a sign of the smallest of suffering that only God would see

I called this particular post her “atomic habits,” because she believed that small acts can lead to holiness when done with great love for our Lord 

Small acts of love and self mortification were the things that she sought for while in the Carmel 

St. Therese elucidated in her signature sincere and effervescent style the enduring idea that there is no suffering too small, no act of love too small, to offer the Lord— because what he wants is souls, what he wants is us

That’s not to say that her interior life was always rich 

She suffered so much from months of aridity that she grew an affection for atheists, even going so far to say, and I quote:

[God] allowed my soul to be overwhelmed with darkness, and the thought of Heaven, which had consoled me from my earliest childhood, now became a subject of conflict and torture. This trial did not last merely for days or weeks; I have been suffering for months, and I still await deliverance. I wish I could express what I feel, but it is beyond me. One must have passed through this dark tunnel to understand its blackness ... When I sing of the happiness of Heaven and the eternal possession of God, I do not feel any joy therein, for I sing only of what I wish to believe. Sometimes, I confess, a little ray of sunshine illumines my dark night, and I enjoy peace for an instant, but later, the remembrance of this ray of light, instead of consoling me, makes the blackness thicker still.

It’s thought that St. Therese experienced this interior anguish up until the end of her battle with tuberculosis, with her final words being: “My God, I love you!” 

To summarize everything, reading St. Therese is a study not only of radical love, but also radical humility 

From a spoiled child to a martyr of the Carmel, St. Therese lived an inner life that very few of her own sisters in the convent were aware of 

Her life is also a testimony to God's perfect timing; St. Therese wanted to be a missionary in Hanoi, but was prevented from doing so when she contracted tuberculosis. She was later named a patron saint to missionaries.

St. Therese's Little Way informed the spirituality of many of the saints and intellectuals that came after her: St. Josemaria, St. John Paul II, Mother Teresa, St. Teresa of the Andes, Blessed Cecilia Eusepi, Hans Urs von Balthasar, and Dorothy Day

On her feast day, let’s take the time to reflect on what small things we can do today for the Lord; what small sufferings we can offer him with great love and humility 

God would never inspire me with desires which cannot be realized; so in spite of my littleness, I can hope to be a saint. — St. Thérèse of Lisieux

St. Therese of Lisieux, pray for us.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Make sense that Skully's UM is still developing. He's a first year and most of the first years are still adjusting their unique magic especially when they are still new on practicing magic. Epel and Deuce recently got their unique magic and need time to develop. Same goes to Sebek as his unique magic needs to be mastered. Jack is the only first year who is still okay with his unique magic. Ortho is confirm to unable to have his own unique magic. I figure once Ace's unique magic comes around, he will also need time to develop.

[Referencing this post!]

I mean, yeah 🤔 It makes sense that younger and less experienced mages would need more time and practice to get the hang of their UMs. It feels like a normal part of “growing up” for them and “discovering themselves”.

Deuce didn’t really know what he was doing (he was acting on instinct in book 5 still doesn’t know how to fully utilize his UM well by GloMasq), Epel needed instruction from Rook (but seems to have found his footing by book 7 and GloMasq), and Sebek laments that he still suffers from the aftereffects of his UM. Jack is very diligent, but he may be figuring out the kinks of his UM too. Maybe part of why he physically trains so much is to keep his body in tip-top shape so he can maintain his wolf form for extended periods of time. There are other instances of “growing” one’s UM too: Riddle states that he “mastered” his UM by age 10 (most likely due to the intense studies his mother put him through) and Azul also implies that he worked hard to “develop” his UM. This is probably something all budding mages go through, so we can see expect the same for Ace and any other immature mages we meet.

I think part of it must also come down to the nature of the UM itself; more complicated magic like spells that change appearance/form and mind manipulation magic are noted as being particularly difficult to master. Additionally, there are instances where the UM has many aspects to it or certain conditions that must be met first; I’d imagine these have to be discovered through trial and error, since it sounds the mage doesn’t always initially know what their spell does or how it works. For example, Silver, despite being a second year, confesses that he still doesn’t fully understand his UM.

… Anyway, I’m just praying Skully doesn’t go on a pumpkinizing rampage 💀 It sure would suck if we got baked into pumpkin bread…

[pumpkinbxtch]

hey, ik requests are closed but if you could do this one, i'll be very grateful. just remember, if you don't want to, you don't have to.

i was thinking if post-trial apollo, meets the reader, after the trial (can the reader be a child of Hades? like a child of Hades would be so iconic), love at first sight (fuck, why is this so cliche 😭😭) and tries to spend more time with the reader. the reader is new to the entire camp thing, and is getting more used to it, and grows closer to Apollo. but he's like scared to admit he's in love bc he thinks, that just like all his past lovers, the reader would run away, or kill herself, or fall into deep trouble, but after some really had event in which he almost loses y/n, he goes all haywire, confessing everything and it becomes a cute, fluffy scene together

AGAIN ik you aren't taking in requests, so if you don't want to do it, it's totally fine. love so many of your fics btw ♥️♥️

i love you, isn't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

— apollo/lester x child of hades!reader

warnings: none a/n: Hello beautiful person. You're seeing this, now you know that I take your request and I want to say why and it's because you asked me so nice that I couldn't resist. I have corazón de pollo which is something like being very sensitive or being warm-hearted. Anyway, let me know if you liked it. I hope it was like that and thank you for reading me, for your support. ❤️ Kisses from Pluto! ha ha

Your legs settled back over Apollo’s knees, and he kept them in place with his hands, letting out a snort.

— You’re pretty comfortable with a god, aren’t you? — His pretentious tone just made you smile and shrug.

— You didn’t move my feet, did you? — you replied in the same tone, and he leaned against the cabin wall. It was true, and if it were up to him, he never would.

— Whatever…— he muttered, watching you lie back down, putting your attention back on a comic book Will Solace had lent you, saying it was based on one of his favorite movies, which made you interested in reading it. You thought you and Will weren’t that different, and you liked him but not in ‘that’ way, just as a friend. After all, Will was becoming part of the family with your brother Nico because they seemed to have something slowly brewing.

— How many times have you said I love you?— you asked out of the blue, still not taking your eyes off the comic. Apollo almost choked on his own saliva.

— What’s that about? — he said evasively. He didn’t want to talk about it because if he remembered correctly, all those times had ended badly. He tried to catch your eyes but found the glossy cover of the comic in the way.

You shrugged and turned the page, continuing with the same topic.

— I heard Nico say that to Will once when they thought I was out of our cabin, but I was just in the bathroom.

— Hmmm. And?

— Nothing, just that Nico doesn’t say it often. I’ve only heard him say it to his sister Bianca, his real sister. Also to Hazel, to me, and to Will.

Now Apollo understood but played dumb.

— I don’t know.

You tapped his thigh with your foot.

— Of course you do.

And obviously, he did, but stayed silent, hoping the comic would distract you enough.

— I think they’re falling in love — you stated, laughing at something you read. Apollo could never understand how demigods managed with ADHD; now, it just seemed like a curse.

— Well, I suppose.

His half-hearted responses annoyed you, and you put the comic down with a frown, and he apologized with his eyes.

— Have you fallen in love recently?

That question threw him off. Apollo gently moved your legs aside to sit on the edge of the bed with his heart racing and a pout on his face.

— Where are you going? — you asked, concerned, setting the comic aside and sitting next to him. Apollo smiled sheepishly. He didn’t like lying to you, but whenever you started guiding the conversation that way, he had to find a way to escape.

— I need to do something in olympus, they just told me.

You made a face and nodded. You never got involved in that; after all, he was a god.

In the end, Apollo sat moodily on his throne, watching time pass at Camp Half-Blood. Since his return as the sun god, things had changed in his heart, so he found himself more in that place despite what the gods said, which reminded him of when he met you.

You had recently arrived and caught attention for reaching an age where any demigod would have died, but shortly after, if not the same day, everyone knew you weren’t just any demigod. You were a child of Hades. Of course, the most delighted with this was Nico, who welcomed you and made sure you were never alone.

Things were fresh, so Apollo ended up in your close circle until it became very close. If Apollo was at Camp Half-Blood, you were with him, and it didn’t take long for him to fall in love with you, though you hadn’t realized it yet.

You felt safe growing up by his side; no one would mess with you since you were a child of the big three and a close friend of a god. Some fools judged you for your company, but they were afraid to approach when you were – according to Apollo – an adorable person.

The god watched through the fire as you thrived in camp after his unexpected departure, and to him, you were doing too well, though some things were too good for his liking, and he couldn’t deny it; you were charming in more than one way, which obviously attracted campers like Harley, that son of Hephaestus who sometimes gave you cute things like that pomegranate made of metal leaves. A gift that seemed very familiar when he saw Leo flirting with Calypso.

Leo flirting with Calypso.

Leo flirting.

The god stood up and admired the scene closely. Harley had blushed cheeks while giving you the gift, and you smiled gratefully. No way, he knew the sons of Hephaestus were bold, but he never imagined someone would be so obvious with you due to your lack of understanding of indirect hints. They approached but never that close, and he should have guessed, but also, he wasn’t one to get angry.

You received the gift and admired it closely, but only thanked him briefly, which seemed enough proof of your affection to the son of Hephaestus, something Apollo obviously loathed as well as keeping him awake the rest of the night.

He didn't know why (well he did) but the god ended sitting at the dining pavilion, his nails digging into the table.

— Everything okay? — Your voice snapped him out of his trance, and he smiled. You always seemed to have a radar for when he was near.

— Will fell in love with Nico, and Nico with him. Do you think they both realized it or just one?— His question took you by surprise, and more than making you think twice, it excited you that he finally answered that kind of question since he always seemed to have a repulsion to them.

You sat beside him, and Apollo gave you a sweet look, waiting for your answer.

— Maybe Nico and Will know, but Will could be waiting for Nico to give clear signals about it.

— Maybe Nico is scared.

— Does he think Will isn’t?

You both fell silent. It was clear; it was in the air, you weren’t really talking about your brother and Will.

— What’s the worst thing he could say to Will? — you asked, your hand reaching for Apollo’s to intertwine your fingers. The blonde swallowed and suddenly felt breathless.

— I don’t know, but I can think of something.

Apollo made a face and turned a little more towards you, his cheeks red and his eyes shiny. He was afraid of hurting you, of things not working out as they did with his previous lovers; he could never afford to make you suffer when he already knew the degree of consequence it would have in his life, but beyond his good or bad karma, he cared about you. He loved you enough never to try to have you.

Your patience was reaching its limit, and although the son of Hephaestus was cute, sweet, a good match… your heart belonged to someone since the first moment you saw him.

—Apollo… —your voice called him with a bit of seriousness, a peculiar tone that made the god realize his time for redundancies was over.

— I love you, isn’t that the worst I could say?

Your eyes widened with hope, and you moved a little closer to him, bumping knees.

— From Nico to Will? — you asked, not wanting to humiliate yourself.

Apollo’s blue eyes examined you suspiciously. The responsibility would fall on him; he was never the best at hiding his feelings, but if your happiness depended on it, the first moment he saw your life in danger, he wouldn’t hesitate to disappear from it. For now, a confession was something very innocent.

The sun god turned to you with a bit more evident confidence and didn’t let go of your hand; instead, he kissed it.

— No. From me to you…

[soundlessdreamss]

Hey!! i saw your fanfics and i loved it! How about something like, Alastor x Furina/Focalors Reader? It can be either Platonic or Romantic!

hi hi!! Of course I can do this, I’ll also be doing vox x furina reader in this post as I got a request to do that aswell. ^_^ This will include platonic and romantic headcannons for them.

Alastor x furina!reader & Vox x furina!reader

Platonic Alastor:

To say he wasn’t intrigued by you was a lie. You caught his attention during a overlord meeting where you had not a single care in the world about what was going to happen in hell, since you saw it as your “stage” to perform.

He didn’t really get how and why you acted the way you did. You always overreacted and had dramatic reactions to small things happening but only if it was something that affected your people in hell. Yet you always kept a playful attitude and be very cocky.

During the meeting where you really caught his attention is when you stood up against Camilla and managed to start a whole fight which made the meeting end early.

He followed after you once you left the meeting and wanted to introduce himself to you. (As if you didn’t already know him)

You liked how he acted similarly to you in a way, you both mainly cared about your own good or at least your peoples own good. So it wasn’t that hard for you guys to bond and become good friends.

If someone caused you trouble during a trial let’s just say Alastor has your back.

You guys grew an inseparable bond but you also seemed to cling onto Alastor because you didn’t really have anyone else to hang out with because your responsibilities and trials.

He didn’t seem to mind this this though and slowly you guys grew feelings for each other.

You were the only one who Alastor seemed to like and hang out with the most but it took you guys quite a while to confess.

Romantic Alastor:

Once (he or you) confessed first the other accepted and to think you were clingy before. Well now your like 100x more clingy and needy because even though you know Alastor loves you, your still worried that he’ll leave you or stop giving you his time with this new hotel project he’s working on.

He reassures you daily that he could never just abandon you and that he adores you. But sometimes you still feel worry that you’ll be abandoned. Just like how focalors left you to put an act on for 500 years.

He also sees how you hide your pain underneath the smile of your act, he worries for you as your mental health is definitely not in the best shape right now.

He tries to encourage you to take breaks and spend time for yourself but, you can’t help but worry that if you do the plan will fail.

Once your act is over after 500 years you immediately run over to him and break down because your finally free from all the stress that you had to carry on your shoulders.

Platonic Vox:

One day as he was monitoring the whole city, he couldn’t help but look closer into one of the screens to see you. You had caught his attention just by how you acted and dressed.

In order to get closer to become your friend he visited one of your trials and after it was done he followed you and started up a conversation with you.

Ever since then you guys spent a ton of time together. It was an unbreakable bond between you too and you both grew attached to each other.

He cared for your safety and you cared for his. But sometimes you were a bit too busy with all the trials you have to do and judging. And he started to notice how burnout you became, but he didn’t know how long you actually put on that act.

One day when you finally had free time he scheduled a “meeting” (actually a date to confess to u lol) and it went well if you accepted. If you didn’t accept his confession he understood because you were always so busy with court cases.

Romantic Vox:

After you two became official he put a lot of secret technology of his in your court place to keep an eye on you. He didn’t want you to get hurt by a filthy sinner now would he?

He cares for you deeply and worries for your mental health because your always busy judging people and deciding whether or not they are guilty.

He felt his heart drop when he heard you almost died that day you were sentenced guilty.

He rushed over to your city and when he saw you outside checking the city after it was all over he ran over to you and gave you a big hug.

You cried in his arms as all of the stress you had on your shoulders was finally gone and you could live freely as a overlord now without having to worry 24/7 if the plan would work.

Tag list: @villxinmiixx

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [17]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: losing tempers, arguing, mentions of alcohol and a bit of binge drinking, angst, people getting drunk

Word Count: 15k (i am so so so sorry, i know y'all said you wanted long but this is probably insane. i just needed to end it in that specific place to get the theme i wanted to touch on finished😭 i think you'll like the content if you can bear through it lolol)

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night,  you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a  far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be  exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you  fall more  and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant  for everyone.

#17: CLOSE YOUR EYES, NER KAR'TA

"to be in love with you is to know that even on the days you make me so mad i could scream, i still want to kiss the hell out of your face." ⏤Beau Taplin. "it's the way you wrinkle your nose when you're disappointed in me."

a/n: y'all would not believe the trouble tumblr gave me in posting this smh anyways sorry again this is stupid long (i did warn y'all im a mouthy motherfucker) but hopefully it can make up for the absolutely heartbreaking episode we all suffered thru today :)

.

“If I asked you to kick Karga’s ass, would you?”

“Without hesitation, ner kar’ta.”

You couldn’t help but snicker under your breath at his quick answer. Din was lying reclined in the cot beside you with Grogu napping on his chest. It was an entertaining contrast. The soft father rubbing his son’s back as the child snored while promising immediate violence at a single word from you. The awkwardness of yesterday morning seemed to have dispersed after your confession to him. Add to that the fact that Nima was sleeping in a medically induced coma on the cot you sat on the edge of, and you were on cloud nine. There was still a ways to go and you hated that your close friend⏤ your family⏤ had been injured in such a traumatizing way, but her arm would be saved.

The bacta tank had healed what it needed to. It fixed bone, muscle, and tissue nearly 80%. You didn’t want to risk letting the tank manage the injury to the full 100%. Repairing hand injuries was a tricky thing simply because the tendons and muscles in the hand were so complicated. You’d rather set her hand the old fashioned way⏤ make sure she didn’t lose any function. Nima would be devastated if her dexterity was compromised. Her job, her passion, relied on her hands.

“Anything else I can add to our to-do list today other than fighting the High Magistrate of Nevarro?” Din asked with a hum.

You grinned at him. “I’ll let you know if I think of anything.”

Din nodded his head once. Your eyes glanced down at the hardware holding Nima’s hand motionless so it could heal properly. You had already adjusted them, applied a healing paste, then wrapped it, but you couldn't help but re-check your work over and over again. Your obsessive behavior came in handy when Karga had stepped in ten minutes or so ago to check in on Nima. Though his ‘checking in’ had turned into offering you a job once more. It seemed like every type of denial you had he had a counterpoint.

Your main one being that legally you weren’t allowed to practice medicine. You still had a license because the trial questioning whether or not you were ethically to blame for Soran’s death had ended in your favor. However, one stipulation⏤ which had come from a psychological evaluation the hospital made you go through after you were attacked⏤ was that until Kurt’s trial was over you shouldn’t be in the position of making medical decisions. It had been something you were more than happy to abide by as you ran from your life.

Karga’s cheeky reply had been that he was the High Magistrate and as such he could allow you to do anything you wanted to do. Especially if that thing you wanted to do was be his city’s physician. 

A thought formed in your mind and you huffed out a sigh. You could see Din tilt his head toward you in question. You faced him, “Would I be crazy for considering taking Karga up on his offer?”

“I wouldn’t say crazy.” Din replied. “But why? I don’t want you to feel obligated because Karga won’t leave you alone.”

“It’s not that.” You said. The thought grew in your mind, a chaotic frenzy that wouldn’t leave you alone. “If I hadn’t been here, Nima would’ve lost her arm. She might have even died. I stopped that.” Din remained silent and let you think aloud. “I can keep making that difference. I have to. If I don’t then… If something terrible happens then isn’t that my fault?”

Din sat up, holding Grogu to his chest so the boy didn’t fall, “No. No, it’s not. Thinking like that, taking on that guilt, isn’t healthy.” He threw his legs over the side of the bed so he was sitting up and facing you. “Don’t make a decision based on guilt, ner kar’ta.”

“I guess you’re right.” You mumbled.

He stayed silent for a beat before reaching a hand out to you. You stood and took the singular step that would get you close enough to settle your hand in his. Din pulled you forward so you stood between his legs. The cot was on a lower setting which left you staring down at Din while he was forced to tilt his head to stare up at you. 

“Take guilt out of it. Pretend like you’re one of many that Karga is trying to hire for this job.” Din said. You lifted the hand Din wasn’t holding so you could scratch Grogu’s head. His mid-afternoon nap would be over soon and he’d be awake and bouncing off the walls with energy. “Would getting this job make you happy?”

You pondered over the question. There was a thrill in medicine. One you quite enjoyed when you weren’t forced to care for the people who meant the most in the world to you. Plus, thinking long term, you couldn’t be Grogu’s nanny forever. It wasn’t feasible. Not that you wanted out of their lives. You were so entangled in the web of their lives that that was hardly an option anymore. But, if you wanted a real relationship with Din one day, you couldn’t be his employee. You’d have to find a different way to make credits and support yourself. 

“I think so.” You nodded.

“As long as you're happy, then I think you should do it.” Din replied, but the sigh he released didn’t match the approval of his words. “I just don’t want you to make yourself sick with stress.”

“Worrywart.” You teased. Din chuckled and the rumbling in his chest must have roused Grogu. The boy began to rub his face against the metal he was lying on sleepily. You ran a finger alongside his ear. “Hi, baby boy. Was buir too loud? Did he wake you up?”

Grogu mumbled, then turned with outstretched arms. Din lifted him as you reached out. When you pulled the small child to your chest he leaned his head against your shoulder but you knew he wasn’t sleep based on the way he let his small fingers rub against your shoulder back and forth⏤ just like you and Din would do to him. Grogu was mumbling soft words you didn’t recognize.

“Mhmm, tell mama all about it.” You hummed.

Din’s hands had rested on your hips when he didn’t have Grogu to hold. His thumbs tracing circles over your shirt right above your belt. He nodded, “Do you want children of your own one day?”

Your eyes widened in surprise at his sudden question. It was the last direction you expected this conversation to go. Your jaw popped open slightly. “Uh, wh⏤what?”

“Just curious.” Din shrugged nonchalantly.

To be honest, you had never given it any thought. That was a future decision for future you to make. While in training, you told yourself it wouldn’t be something you needed to even think about until after training was over. Then when you were working in the hospital, you told yourself you needed to get settled in your job first. Finally, your life spiraled apart and during the last year that was hardly something that was on your mind. It was funny that you went full circle and all of that led you to standing in Nevarro’s clinic thinking about a future with children of your own. 

Taking care of Grogu was an experience that had given you more factors and variables to consider, but still you weren’t sure what to say. You shook your head and spoke the truth. “To be honest, I haven’t thought much about it.”

“You’re so good with Grogu, is all.” Din replied.

“What about you?” You paused. “Er, that’s not what I⏤ Obviously you already have a child. You have Grogu.” Din chuckled at your babbling. “I meant, would you want… more?”

Din tilted his head and a very casual nod. “I think so. I like the idea of a big family.”

“Do you have siblings?” You asked suddenly. “I’m realizing just now that I don’t know a lot about your life before Nevarro⏤ other than Grogu and the bounty hunting.”

“No siblings.” Din shook his head. “Not by blood at least. After I was brought in by the Mandalorians, as a foundling, I grew up with a few other kids I considered to be siblings on Concordia.”

“Wait, you were a foundling? Like Grogu?”

“Yes.” Din nodded. “I was born on Aq Ventina, but when I was young… My town was destroyed in a Separatist attack. Battle droids destroyed everything. They… I lost my parents. I would’ve been killed myself if a Mandalorian hadn’t saved me.”

You stepped around him so you could sit down on the cot beside Din. He followed your movements with his t-shape visor. You lifted the hand not holding Grogu to settle on his knee. “Din, I am so sorry. I had no idea, I⏤ I wouldn’t have asked⏤ I shouldn’t have asked⏤”

“It’s alright, ner kar’ta.” Din chuckled and set his hand on top of yours. “I knew you didn’t know, but I wanted you to know. Besides, I started this line of questioning.” He squeezed his fingers around your own. “I know you said you were from Naboo. Can you tell me more? Do you still have family there?”

You fell into a casual conversation with him telling him about the family you still had there. Sharing a few memories that couldn't help but slip out when they came to mind. You felt bad that you were talking about happy memories when Din had just admitted to a tragedy, but he continued to ask question after question leading you into them. Which led to him sharing a few memories of his own from both worlds that he walked. Din lingered on a story about his parents⏤ a happy one he held close to his heart based on the soft tone he spoke in.

“How much do you remember of them?” You asked.

“Enough to know they were good parents.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to spend more time with them.” You replied softly.

In response, Din lifted the hand on top of yours to bury it in the hair at the nape of your neck. He leaned you toward him and set his forehead against yours. The two of you only remained that way for a moment before Grogu sat up and rested one hand on your cheek and the other on his father’s.

“Skraan.” He blurted. Din and you broke apart, laughing, but Grogu was solely serious as he repeated himself. “Skraan, skraan, skraan.”

Din knew what he had to do. The part he was struggling with was the how. Oddly, in his mind, the first step was going to be the hardest bit. Steps two through whatever included taking the N1 out to Mandalore, find the living waters, bathe in said living waters, bring back proof to the Armorer, be redeemed in the eyes of his Covert, return to you as a full fledged Mandalorian rather than Apostate, and request to court you properly. Simple. Easy to remember. Din didn’t even need to write it down. However, step one involved telling you that he was leaving Nevarro and that was going to be tough.

At first he thought he’d just bring you with him, but then you told him you wanted to try being Nevarro’s physician. Din couldn’t pull you away from your home right as you had grown comfortable enough with your past to retry medicine. So, that was out. Then, when he had worked up the courage to say good-bye, Cara quit. That one had caught Din off guard. It happened days after Nima’s accident. Cara claimed she got an offer to be part of special forces with the New Republic⏤ an offer she couldn’t turn down. She even took the time to remind him that this was never a permanent thing anyways. 

However, Cara left in the dead of night without even taking the time to wait until Nima woke up. Din didn’t believe that was a coincidence. He was more than familiar with the concept of running from emotions. When Nima finally did wake up, the look of heartbreak on her features when he had to answer her question of where Cara was had been tough to handle. Din reminded himself that his plan was not the same as Cara’s. He was not leaving you to stay away. Din was not running from you. If anything he was running to you. He just wanted to be the very best version of himself before propositioning you, and Din wanted to do this right.

Before he left, he was going to explain this to you⏤ in great detail. And, if you truly meant what you said about allowing him to uphold his Creed, you’d understand. Din repeated that to himself over and over again like a mantra.

Regardless of how that played out, Din was stuck. It was one thing when he was leaving Nevarro short one marshal temporarily. Now the city would be missing him and Cara, and in good conscious he couldn’t let that be.

Mayfeld, hands laced behind his head as his feet were kicked up on his desk, called out. “Come on, Mando. What? You don’t trust me to hold down the fort while you’re gone?”

“Exactly.”

“Uh, ow.” Mayfeld complained. “You could’ve at least pretended to think about it before answering so fast.”

Din chuckled under his breath. Honestly, his relationship with Mayfeld had come a long way. How he felt now was a stark difference in comparison to how badly Din wanted to shoot him in the face when they first met. After what happened on Morak, after revealing his face in front of Mayfeld, Din truly respected the man⏤ trusted him. The truth is he would never forgive himself to leave Mayfeld here to deal with all the responsibilities alone. That wasn’t fair to his friend. All those facts didn’t deter Din from mocking and mildly bullying the man though. That was much too fun to give up.

“I have a friend flying in today to baby-sit you.”

“Nice. Got me a nanny too?” Mayfeld replied. “Hope she’s as pretty as yours.”

Din knew the man was only trying to rile him up, and he technically had picked the exact topic that could do it. But, Din didn’t take the bait. He shrugged. “He’s not really my type, but I’ll let you make the call on that.”

“Alright. So I’ll be the Marshal, and he’ll be my Deputy?”

“No. He’ll be Marshal, and you’ll still be Deputy.”

Mayfeld dropped his feet off the desk, hands falling to his side, and his jaw popped open in shock. “Hold on! The new guy gets to be Marshal before I do?? You’re just gonna promote him over me? Immediately.”

“Exactly.”

The man scoffed in response and crossed his arms like a petulant child. It reminded Din of the way Grogu would pout when you told him you couldn’t snack on cookies or cakes right before dinner time or when Din would wrestle a full sized critter out of his son’s mouth before Grogu could swallow it whole. Mayfeld shoved up from his seat to cross the room and pour himself a cup of caf. Din stayed where he was⏤ leaning against Cara’s old desk.

“You tell your girl that you’re leaving yet? Or is that still a secret?”

“I’m going to tell her.” Din said firmly.

Mayfeld slurped out of his mug, purposely trying to annoy him, “You said that four days ago, then three days ago, then two⏤”

“Keep talking and I’ll demote you from Deputy.”

“Is there even a level below deputy??”

“I can make one.” Din replied dryly. A wide grin crossed Mayfeld’s face and Din shook his head with a grumble. “Today. I’ll tell her today.” Mayfeld just stared at him from above the rim of his mug. Din pushed off the desk. “I’m going to do it.”

Mayfeld shrugged in response and Din resisted the urge to throw something at the man. He huffed and turned to leave. Mayfeld called out behind him, a teasing comment, and Din threw him a crude hand gesture over his shoulder causing the man to burst out in laughter. 

It barely took him any time to get from the station to the clinic. When he stepped through the front doors he was greeted by Aayla and one other worker he wasn’t familiar with. The Twi’lek waved him in and hit a button on the desk to unlock the backroom doors. It was the sound of your voice that greeted him first.

“⏤and if you pull those staples out, you’ll be dealing with me.” You stood at the end of a bed with your hands on your hips and your face drawn in concentration. Aayla had found and wrestled you into a white coat when you started and Din would be lying if he said he didn’t like the look on you. Din especially liked watching you take control of a room. You could command a scene with voice and stare alone, and Din really, really liked watching you do it.

“Baby girl,” A vaguely familiar voice chimed and Din frowned at the nickname, “Dealing with you would be my absolute pleasure.”

Din stepped further into the room to see that a worker from the hanger, a Trandoshan man he couldn’t recall the name of, was sitting on a cot with a long cut from wrist to elbow. A line of staples was holding it closed. Din crossed his arms and tilted his head. “Yeah? How about dealing with me?”

The Trandoshan looked to him at the same time you did, and he found it comical how different the reactions were. Your face split into a bright, gorgeous smile while the hangar worker stiffened up and averted his eyes.

“Well, hi there, Marshal.” You cooed and stuck your hands into the pockets of your white coat.

“Do we have a problem?” Din asked, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.

You turned to look at your patient and raised an eyebrow in question. The Trandoshan glanced at him before looking back to you and shaking his head rapidly. You nodded and reached out to set a hand on Din’s forearm. “I think we’re okay here.”

“Can⏤ Can I⏤?” The worker pointed to the door.

“Yupp. Keep it dry. Come back in a week, and I’ll see if you’re healed enough to take the staples out.”

The Trandoshan jumped up but paused when he realized he was going to have to pass Din in order to get out. Even though Din was technically blocking the way, he kept his position so the man was forced to squeeze around him. When the man was finally out, your laugh filled the air and Din sighed in admiration. You shrugged, smile still in place, “That was kind of fun.”

“How’re you doing?” Din asked.

“I’m okay.” You nodded and then scrunched your nose once. “It’s so weird. I’m still not used to this, but at the same time I am?” You motioned around yourself. “It’s familiar, but it’s not. Am I crazy?”

Din shook his head, “Of course not.”

“Hmm,” You took a step closer to him so you had to lift your face to meet his visor, “I think you’re biased.”

He grinned under his helmet then shrugged. “Maybe.”

“So, what can I do for you, Marshal?”

“Have you had lunch yet?” He asked, and you shook your head in response. “Can I walk with you to get some? You aren’t busy are you?”

You shrugged out of your white coat and tossed it onto a cot. “That’s the beauty of working for a man who is super desperate to keep you around. I can do what I want.” Din chuckled and followed you out of the room. As you passed the front desk, you called out, “Aayla, I’m going. Just call me if any real emergencies come in. Okay?”

“You got it, doc!”

As you both stepped out, Din offered you his arm and you slipped yours through it. He nodded back toward the clinic. “Who is the new girl?”

“Miriam.” You answered. “Aayla is training her to work the front desk so I can train Aayla. She’ll be able to help me with little stuff. I think she’s got a lot of potential.” Din nodded toward a stand merchant who greeted him first. “We’ll be able to see more if I have an assistant, but we still can’t do any routine kind of work. Karga still needs to get another physician to work that side of things.”

Din hummed. “I hear he’s working on it, but I’ll… encourage him to work faster.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” You shook your head. “I can be plenty annoying on my own. You should’ve seen how much I bothered Admin back in Coruscant when I wanted them to buy the emergency department a whole set of ultrasounds.”

Din could imagine the scene and he wished he could’ve seen it. He’d have to make sure he had a front row seat for when you began to hound Karga for this. Without even discussing it, it seemed you both had the same sandwich place in mind⏤ the one that sold the cookies Grogu liked. Din didn’t bother ordering for himself. He wasn’t overly hungry. He mostly just wanted to spend time with you and make sure you took a break to eat. Din watched as you greeted the owners by name and after ordering your food you ordered a pack of cookies for Grogu as well. He could barely even pay attention to the conversation at hand because he was so busy watching you.

Even when the owners offered you the meal for free as a thank you for taking the job in town, you insisted on paying the full price. As you walked out, you frowned at him. “Are you sure you don’t want something to eat?”

“I’m fine, ner kar’ta.” He replied. Din planned finding a bench where you could sit and eat⏤ you had commented about how much you loved the current weather this morning⏤ but the sound of his communicator made him groan.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

Din lifted his vambrace to see he was being hailed to the hanger. “Oh. I have a, uh, friend visiting today. He’s here early.”

“Really?” Your eyes widened.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I have to go meet him.”

Din had begun to pull his arm away, but you kept your grip around it and briefly bit down on your lower lip drawing all his attention to the shape of the lips he loved so much⏤ the lips that haunted his every dream. You pleaded, “Can I please come with you?”

“You want to?” Din was surprised.

“Yeah!” You bounced in place. “I’d love to meet your friend. I mean, if that’s okay?”

“Always. You should start eating while we walk.” Din nodded.

You snickered. “Okay. Bossy.”

Din’s eyes snapped to you, and he chuckled. The two of you changed direction toward the hanger. 

It wasn’t like you weren’t going to meet Cobb Vanth eventually.

The week had gone shockingly well. Better than you could’ve hoped, but then again your expectations were incredibly low. Working in the emergency clinic was actually enjoyable. Karga had tried to rope you into doing everything, but you put a hard stop on that for obvious reasons. Nevarro was still relatively small so when it came to emergencies⏤ there really were not many emergencies. Only a patch up job here and there like with the Trandoshan this morning. Again the bar was low considering you started this job with Nima nearly losing her arm.

Nima had been doing very well physically, but, as much as she tried to hide it, emotionally she had taken a toll. You weren’t sure why Cara left so abruptly. Din and you had talked about it in depth one night after dinner and he seemed to think it was because she had cared too much for Nima too fast. The only opinion you had on the matter was that Cara had certainly gotten on your bad side. You were loyal to your oldest friend and it irked you beyond belief that the once deputy of Nevarro had left when Nima needed her most.

“Where’s your friend from?” You asked as Din and you neared the landing pad.

“Tatooine.”

“Ah, my neck of the woods.”

Din chuckled. “Were you even there long enough to call it your neck of the woods?”

“I lived in Mos Espa for at least half a year. In Tatooine years, that feels like a decade.” You replied and the laugh that left him made your cheeks warm. 

He glanced over at you, your arm still looped through his, “What made you choose Tatooine, anyways?”

“It’s kind of a depressing answer. Definitely a mood killer.” You winced. Din’s feet came to an abrupt stop and he turned so he was facing you entirely. You should’ve guessed he’d have that kind of reaction. You shook your head. “I took care of a patient who said Mos Espa was where lowlifes and runaways escaped to when they had no other world to call home. So…” You shrugged. “I went to Mos Espa.”

“Ner kar’ta⏤”

“I don’t feel that way now. A lot has changed, and I’m not the person who initially fled to Tatooine,” You said quickly, “But you asked why I went, so I said.” With your next words, you kept your voice low so only he could hear you. “I promise I’m okay, Din.”

Din gave you a curt nod. With an amused shake of your head, you slipped your arm through his once more and tugged him toward the landing pad. The Mandalorian warrior let you drag him along, and you could’ve swore he was dragging his feet on purpose to make it more difficult for you. The chuckle that left his helmet confirmed this for you. 

“How long is your friend staying for?” You asked, and Din stayed quiet. “And is his visit a social call? I imagine he’s heartbroken being away from the sands of Tatooine.”

Din’s feet came to a stop once more, but this time it came as a surprise. You paused with him and gave him a curious look. He tilted his head. “About that, I wanted to talk to you about⏤”

“Mando!”

You and Din both turned at the voice. Walking in your direction was a very familiar face. Cobb Vanth? The marshal of Mos Pelgo was a far way from home, but he looked no different than the day you last saw him. His signature red scarf around his neck acting as a homing beacon for your eyes. Vanth’s eyes were initially focused on Din, but then they dragged over to you and he shook his head in surprise.

“Little lady!? Is that you??” Vanth grinned. 

Din and you both snapped to look at one another again rather than the new arrival. At the same time, the same words left your lips. “You know Cobb Vanth!?”

Vanth spread his arms out as he continued to approach, a large duffel bag hanging from his back, “Well, ain’t this a surprise!”

The shock wore off and it finally occurred to you that Cobb Vanth was here. Right here, right in front of you. You let out a laugh and rushed to meet him halfway. He greeted you by wrapping his arms around you in a tight grin⏤ a laugh leaving him as well. What felt like another lifetime ago, you had met Cobb Vanth on your arrival to Tatooine. Though your plan had been to settle in Mos Espa you had accidentally ended up in Mos Eisley. In an attempt to get from one place to the other you got lost in the desert briefly after the land speeder you rented ran out of fuel halfway. It had been your fault for trusting the man you got the speeder from. Rather than dying you were saved by the man you were now hugging. Vanth had even been kind enough to get you to Mos Espa eventually.

You pulled away from Vanth. “It’s so good to see you! You look great.”

“Oh, I know, darling.” Vanth winked. “But still not holding a flame to you.” You chuckled and a hand settled on your shoulder. Din had walked over and you took a step back so you stood right beside him. Vanth motioned to the Mandalorian. “You never told me you knew Mando.”

“I didn’t back when I was with you, Vanth.” You glanced between the two men. “How do you guys know each other?”

Vanth readjusted the bag around his shoulders. “Now that, little lady, is quite the story.” He continued on talking about how Din came looking for a Mandalorian and found Vanth decked out in Mandalorian armor. He followed it by describing how Din ended up flying into a krayt dragon to kill it from inside out. A detail you did not love to hear. “We’ve been best buddies since. Right, pal?”

Din didn’t respond. You were still in awe at the coincidence of it all. You missed your Mandalorian by literal months. Din had swung through Mos Pelgo right before you had. What would’ve happened if you met him then rather than now? 

“Mando?” Vanth questioned. Waving his hand once in front of the helmet. “You alright?”

“I’m fine.” Din replied and you wondered where the tension in his voice had come from. You slipped your arm around his once more and he seemed to relax marginally. He cleared his throat before nodding. “How was your trip, Vanth?”

Vanth’s lips stretched back out into a charming grin. “Hey, I can’t complain. Gotta say Nevarro looks better than I thought it would. I’m excited to explore it.” He chuckled. “The weather ain’t too bad either. I was worried I’d miss that desert air.”

“Don’t worry. These lava plains are plenty hot enough.” You replied. “How long are you here for?”

“Suppose 'til Mando here gets back.”

It took a second for the words to register in your mind, but Din picked it up much faster based on the way his entire body tensed once more. Until he gets back. Gets back? You slowly pulled your arm away from so you could turn and look at him. Before your hand could fall away entirely, Din caught it with his own⏤ holding it against his arm. 

“Wait⏤”

“You’re going somewhere?” You furrowed your brow in confusion. He hadn’t mentioned anything about a trip. Din paused and somehow his hesitance irritated you. “Where?”

Din sighed. “Mandalore.”

Your eyes widened, “Manda⏤ The Mandalore that may or may not be poisoned still?”

“Um. Yes.”

“Okay.” You replied. “Alright.” You pulled your hand out from under Din’s hand and shot Vanth a quick, firm smile. “It was really good to see you, Vanth. Welcome to Nevarro! I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” Din took a step toward you, his nickname for you leaving his lips, but you took a step back. “I need to get back to work, but I’ll see you at home?”

You didn’t give him the chance to answer and turned to leave. If Din called out after you, you didn’t hear him. Your footsteps were rushed as you tried to wrap your head around the information you had just learned. Were you angry? Maybe. It wasn’t a clear cut anger though⏤ it was muddled. There were too many other emotions swirling in your head, but the main one that started to push to the front was disappointment. Every time you thought you understood where you stood with Din it seemed like something happened that made you question it all. Had he just planned on leaving the planet without telling you? Or maybe he wanted to wait until the last second and just wave to you as he took off, or hang a note on the fridge for you to find the morning of. Even if you weren’t in this weird back and forth romantic thing with him, as someone who literally lived in his home and helped care for his child you were incredibly involved in his life. If you were a team, then you needed to know the plan.

More irritation boiled up in your blood, and you found yourself changing direction from the clinic to a familiar house. Your fist was banging on Nima’s door before you fully even registered what it was you wanted to say. Nima opened the door, in her pajamas, and your eyes glanced at the metal brace surrounding her right arm out of habit. 

Nima deflated and whined, “Please, please, please, please tell me you’re here to clear me for work.”

“No. Two more weeks. I’m not changing my mind on that.” You replied and she groaned. “I’m here because apparently Marshal Mando is leaving the planet and hired a replacement marshal but didn’t think to tell me any of this.”

“Come on in. I have alcohol.”

“I told you! I told you⏤ didn’t I tell you??” Mayfeld cried then spun to look at Vanth who was leaning against the wall. “I kriffing told him. Days ago.”

“Please stop talking.” Din groaned as he hung his head back while slouching in the seat. Din thought that the worst part of learning you and Vanth already knew one another would be the tight hug you literally ran to give him. Vanth had pulled you up off your toes in the hug, and the primal side of him yearned for a fight. His hand literally twitched toward his blaster⏤ his kriffing blaster. As if he was going to shoot down his good friend Cobb Vanth who left his town to do him a favor. 

Din had a problem. He was a problem. Growing up the way he had, with the losses he faced, he tended to be possessive of what he considered his own. Din liked to think over the years he had gotten good at reigning that behavior in. He didn’t shoot Vanth, after all. Still, that side of him didn’t hesitate in rearing it’s ugly head in moments like when he watched Cobb Vanth hold you for what he considered to be a second too long. It wasn’t until your arm slipped through his, a soft smile on your face, that he felt the logical side of him slip back into control.

Then, of course, it all went downhill when Vanth accidentally admitted the thing he had yet to tell you. Watching that smile fall off your features, feeling you try to slowly pull away, felt like he had taken blunt force trauma to the chest. It physically hurt and left a raw, aching wound and it only got worse as he watched you walk away. Din put the pain pretty high on the list of ones he experienced, and this was coming from someone who had a job that led him to be stabbed repeatedly. 

“I am sorry about that, Mando.” Vanth spoke up.

“It’s not your fault.” Din straightened his posture and shook his head. “I should��ve told her ages ago. That’s on me.” Vanth had apologized to him multiple times during the walk from the tarmac to the station. He’d do so between asking questions about the town that Din was supposed to be giving him a better tour on. Din rested his elbows on knees. It dawned on him that there was a question he hadn’t asked in his distress. “How do you know her?”

Vanth crossed his arms. “It was a couple months after you left, actually. She got lost between Mos Eisley and Mos Espa.” Din’s eyes widened at the thought of you getting lost in that Maker forsaken desert. Vanth chuckled. “Her land speeder ran out of fuel. It was by pure chance I ran into her. She stayed in Mos Pelgo for a few days then I took her the rest of the way to Mos Espa. We stayed in touch though⏤ here and there.”

Briefly, Din wondered what his life would’ve looked like if the two of you had been in Mos Pelgo at the same time. It was a curious thought but he knew both of you had been different people at that time. Even if it, in the great scheme of things, wasn’t that long ago. Less than a year. Then again, as quickly as you had wormed your way in his heart he couldn’t imagine meeting you months ago would’ve been that different. Din sighed and stood, he grabbed a holopad off the desk remembering that despite his dilemma in breaking your heart today he still had work to do. 

“Yeah.” Vanth hummed. “Little lady and I didn’t see each other often, but she’d visit me or I’d visit her for the occasional hook up.”

Din’s head snapped to glare at Vanth and, in an attempt to ensure his hands were free, he slammed the holopad back down onto the desk⏤ ignoring the tell tale sound of cracking glass. Vanth’s lips curled up into a mischievous grin and Din was half tempted to drag him back to the tarmac and ship his ass to Tatooine. Mayfeld burst into laughter and Din just shook his head.

“Sorry, brother.” Vanth chuckled. “I saw how up in arms you got out on the tarmac. Couldn’t help myself.”

“Hilarious.” Din replied. 

Eventually, Mayfeld and Vanth wandered out so the newest temporary marshal could get acquainted with the town and meet Karga. It gave Din a couple of hours to work though he spent most of it internally spiraling over the moment your entire face fell. He hated that he had been the cause of that⏤ just because he had been too scared to fess up. His communicator began to go off and Din answered it.

“Hi, Marshal?” A woman’s voice said. Din confirmed who it was. “This is Ms. Wynn, I’m in charge of Grogu’s class. Everything's still fine, but class ended about twenty minutes ago and I haven’t seen you or Soran. Is everything alright?”

Din shoved up from his desk’s chair. “I’ll be right there.”

On his way out the door, he called Aayla at the clinic to see if you had just gotten caught up with a patient, but the woman claimed she hadn’t seen you since he took you out for lunch. The clinic had been quiet otherwise. Din’s stomach churned uncomfortably as he hurried to pick up his son. Were you alright? Or were you so upset that you refused to even care for Grogu? Din knew the moment that thought crossed his mind that he was wrong. Regardless of how upset you were with him, you’d never take it out on the little boy. Din just hoped you were okay.

You narrowed your eyes at Nima as she downed the last of her beer, “Is this all you’ve been doing all day? Drinking?”

“Well, I can’t work, so…” Nima shrugged. When she offered you a drink you had turned it down, technically still on shift as the physician, but she hadn’t stopped from drinking herself. You had come here to rant about Din, but as it turned out you both had plenty to complain about. For hours, you and her had sat on the back porch of her house . The last thirty minutes or so you were trying to pry information out of Nima about how she felt about the Cara situation, but the mechanic would simply shrug it away. You knew she was hurting more than she claimed though. “Do the skies look gross to you?”

“What?” You blurted and slumped down in your seat.

“The sky. It looks…icky.”

You peered up best you could, and in her defense icky was probably the best word. The day had started clear, but the sky now had a greenish tinge to it. It reminded you of the beginnings of a storm, but you couldn’t see any clouds. You leaned out further to look and by doing so it gave you a clear view of Nima’s kitchen through a side window where you saw a clock resting against her wall. 3:37. Dank farrik. You jumped up.

“Karking⏤ Grogu!” You panicked. Shit, shit, shit. “Stop drinking, Nima.”

She mumbled a confirmation that you didn’t firmly believe then started sprinting back to the center of town. You had never, ever been late to pick up Grogu before. Guilt gnawed at you imagining Grogu looking for you in a crowd of parents and not being able to find you. Maker, how could you lose track of time like that? You got to the school in record time to find that all the kids were gone. Ms. Wynn was cleaning up around a room and she said Din had come and picked him up about ten minutes ago. 

As much as you wanted to avoid Din for a little while longer, you needed to see Grogu so you could apologize to him. On your way in you passed Mayfeld and Vanth who were standing in the lobby. They both raised their hands to greet you and you blew past them without preamble. You were a woman on a mission. 

“Grogu?” You called out, searching the room. Faintly, you could hear Grogu calling back to you and he waddled into the room a second later. You breathed a sigh of relief and knelt down to scoop him up into a hug. “I’m so sorry, baby. I am so, so sorry.”

“No sorry.” Grogu hummed giving your cheek a small pat making you chuckle.

The sound of a throat clearing had you glancing up to see Din leaning against the doorway that would lead back to his office. You were in an odd position because you were still upset at him from leaving you in the dark, but you were also ashamed and embarrassed at missing Grogu’s pick up time.

“Hi.” You mumbled awkwardly.

“I’m sorry.” Din blurted. Your eyes narrowed. Was he not going to address the ‘you abandoned Grogu’ thing first? “I should’ve told you sooner that Grogu and I are going to Mandalore.”

You slowly stood up with the cooing child in your arms. “You and… You’re taking Grogu?? To Mandalore??” If he heard the rising anger in your voice, he didn’t show it. “The planet that, again, we don’t know is even habitable?”

“Of course. Where I go, he goes.” Din shrugged nonchalantly. You blinked once, and Din finally seemed to catch onto at least one of the thoughts you had. “I want you to go, but I can’t pull you away from Nevarro. Not when you just started working in the clinic, and if I did choose to leave Grogu here that would just be added stress for you.”

Right. Because worrying about Din and Grogu on some wasteland of a planet wasn’t a stress factor. You locked your jaw and let out a slow breath through your nose. The boy in your arms seemed to latch onto the tension faster than his father did based on the worried looks he was bouncing between the two of you. Finally, you found your voice, “I forgot Grogu at school. I lost track of time. I⏤”

“It was an accident, I know. I’m not mad.” Din said calmly. 

He wasn’t mad. Din wasn’t mad, and somehow that made you even angrier. A part of you wondered if he was purposely not showing any anger in an attempt to keep you from being angry. One mistake for another mistake. Tit for tat. Maybe he was trying to make up for the fact that he knew he upset you, but you hated the calm demeanor he still seemed to carry. It occurred to you then, that you wanted him to be angry. You wanted to argue. The Mandalorian in front of you was the picture perfect example of composure and it pissed you off.

“You’re not angry.” You enunciated each word.

“Of course not, ner kar’ta.” Din shook his head. He drifted closer. “We should talk more about this trip⏤”

“Why?” You shrugged and pasted a large smile on your face. If he wanted to be composed then you’d be composed too. “I should check on the clinic one last time before heading home. I’ll take Grogu with me. Get as much time with him as I can before you boys go on your little adventure.”

Din shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a nervous tic you usually only saw at home, “Yeah. I might be late getting back. It looks like there might be a volcanic ash storm rolling in soon. Nevarro hasn’t seen one since before the guild left here.”

“No problem.” You said. “I’ll see you at home.”

Din began to take a step toward you, but you turned on your heel to leave with Grogu. You knew you were being petty, but right now you didn’t really care. If the two of you were playing mistake for mistake then this seemed fair too. You were petty to him and he didn’t tell you that he planned to leave you alone on this planet without him or Grogu. Tit for tat.

Din watched you leave with the sinking feeling that the interaction between the two of you had not gone well. Mayfeld stepped in with an incredulous look while Din continued to just stand with his arms crossed over his chest.

Mayfeld scoffed and motioned behind him, “How in the hell did you make it worse?”

Din mumbled a string of curses in every language he was familiar with and pushed past Mayfeld to leave. The man fell into step beside him. As much as he wanted to chase after you, he needed to help get the city prepped for the oncoming storm. Mayfeld, never able to take a hint, shook his head, “I mean, geez Mando. How is it you can string up a quarry in seconds, but can’t figure out how to apologize to a woman?”

“Where is Vanth?” Din asked, ignoring Mayfeld’s own line of questioning.

“Walking your girl to the clinic then home.”

Din locked his jaw. That was good to hear. He wanted to be the one to walk you and his son back to the safety of your shared home, but considering the circumstance he was just glad you weren’t alone. Din ordered Mayfeld to take the eastern side of the city and warn all citizens to bring in or tie down their outdoor belongings while he took the west. 

He didn’t get it. Had you wanted him to be angry at you? Din was a little peeved, it’d be a lie to say that he wasn’t. He had to leave work to pick up Grogu despite you taking on that responsibility this morning. Since starting at the clinic, you and him had taken turns, but Din liked to know beforehand so he wasn’t just up and leaving the station. If an emergency happened, where you were needed with a patient, that was more than understandable, but that hadn’t been the case. You had just lost track of time. A very human mistake to make, and honestly it was your first when it came to Grogu. So, yes, Din was a little peeved, but he wasn’t angry.

Din pushed it out of mind. You knew the truth, and he could better explain himself tonight when he got home. Right now, he needed to focus on the task at hand. 

According to Karga, the volcanic ash storms were quick but deadly. The closest volcano would spew out a hot and devastating breath of ash. It’d roll over the city, blanketing everything in darkness, but it usually was blown away and gone in a matter of hours. Din had heard plenty about them, but they had never occurred while he was planet side. As long as there was proper prep to begin with then it should be a smooth transition. Karga, ever the planner, had built the city buildings with proper metal shields to roll down over windows and doors in the case of a storm. Everybody would stay indoors for a half a day, and then they’d spend the rest cleaning up.

Din wondered if his helmet was equipped to withstand the ash. It should be. The beskar and his flight suit would keep the hot ash from burning his skin, and if his helmet worked correctly then the filter should keep out most of the dangerous ash. He only wondered in case he needed to venture out to save a citizen or two. They were making the rounds to tell everyone that staying indoors was an order, but Din knew with his luck one or two people would ignore the warning.

It took hours to ensure the entire city was ready to be locked down and make sure that Vanth found his place and that it worked for the man. Din had simply housed him in Cara’s old place. It was still furnished and it wasn’t like Vanth needed anything permanent. The storm was still being estimated at being 24 or 36 hours out. It would give Din, Mayfeld, and Vanth time in the morning and afternoon to run through the city once more for final checks.

“Hey,” Din called out as he stepped into the house with a sigh. When he rounded the corner he noted that you were in the kitchen alone and cleaning up. He glanced around, “Grogu?”

“Bathed and in bed.” You replied without missing a beat. “It’s late.”

“Yeah, sorry, getting the city prepped took longer than I thought it would.” Din groaned. “How was⏤”

“I have leftover dinner for you.” You interrupted him and motioned to the stove. “But I figure you’ll want to clean up first.”

Din nodded in relief, “Thank you.” You gave him a tight nod, a smile that didn’t reach your eyes painted your lips, and he paused before heading back to the shower. “Hey, you’re not going to bed are you? I wanted to talk.”

“I’m not going to bed.” You shook your head.

“Good.” Din turned and hurried off. From the moment Vanth let slip that he was leaving, Din had been craving to sit down next to you and explain everything. He wanted to take your hand in his and reassure you that everything was going to be okay, they wouldn't be gone long, and it killed him to leave you behind. Din wanted to explain that he was leaving to find redemption and revenge. Though, he wasn’t quite sure how you’d handle that information.

As Din washed the day off of him, he wondered how you’d feel about that? If he told you the absolute truth that he planned to find redemption in part so he could court you. If he told you that he planned on tracking down Daelar to rip the man’s throat out. He wasn’t positive how you’d handle either fact, but he was positive that he needed to tell you. Din was human, he made mistakes, but he made it a mission in life to not make the same mistake twice.

After getting dressed, Din carried all his armor, sans his helmet, into the room to set aside. He paused long enough to check in on Grogu and tuck the blanket thrown haphazardly around the hammock around the boy’s small body. “Nuhoy morut'yc, adi’ka.” Din readjusted the stuffed frog in Grogu’s hammock with a smile and left the room as quietly as possible. A nervous energy settled along his skin and he rolled his shoulders once, “Ner kar’ta?”

The kitchen was empty and Din titled his head in confusion at the finding. His eyes landed on a plate of food waiting for him on the island counter and drifted closer. Sitting beside the plate was a small note with the most passive aggressive of all smiley faces he had seen drawn.

‘Went out with Nima. Don’t wait up’.

Din aggressively tore his helmet off and the only thing that kept him from slamming it onto the counter was the knowledge that the sound would wake up Grogu. His nervous energy melted into irritation. Sure, he hadn’t clarified that he wanted to talk when he asked if you were going to bed, but Din knew his intentions had been clear. That’s why you had deliberately answered his question in such a specific manner. His hands clenched and unclenched as he took a slow and steadying breath. 

He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t. Din repeated this under his breath in an attempt to convince himself of it.

It was funny. The last time you sat in this cantina with Nima, in these exact chairs, the two of you had also been talking about Din. The subject last time was how awkward it was to tiptoe around him in his own home. Mashal Daddy, is what Nima had called him last time.

“Marshal Dickhead.” Nima scoffed before taking the shot in front of her. She pushed your shot glass closer to you and you tossed it back as well. The liquid burned the entire way down and you grimaced. It had been ages since you drank to this degree⏤ you were a light weight now. “That’s what he is.”

You shook your head. “No, he isn’t.”

“Okay, I need you to work on your shit talk.” Nima pointed at you. “Defending the person you’re complaining about is kind of redundant.”

You tapped your glass and the bartender wandered back over to pour the both of you another shot which you took without hesitation. Nima tried to get them to pour another, but you shook your head and ordered two mixed drinks instead. At least those had something other than straight liquor in it. 

“I’m pissed at him, but I don’t wanna shit talk him.” You replied.

“Then what do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” You sighed. “I want to fight.” Nima gave you a questionable look and you shook your head. “Not physically. Maker, I don’t have a death wish.” Picking to tussle with a Mandalorian could possibly be the stupidest choice in the galaxy. “But I want to argue with him.”

Nima narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

“Because I⏤ I⏤” Your words got caught in your throat and you tried to wash it down with a large swig of your drink, to no avail. It was dumb to want to argue, wasn’t it? Couples tried to avoid that. Not that the two of you were an official couple. You groaned and buried your face into your hands⏤ already feeling dizzy from the drinks. You wanted him to be upset with you, to feel comfortable enough around you to show that he was upset. Up until now, the two of you hadn’t had any real arguments. Sure, there were little tiffs here and there about nothing important, and it typically always ended with Din conceding the point with a shrug. Despite what most people seemed to think, you knew that towering wall of beskar had emotions. He had a lot of kriffing emotions, and you wanted to see all of them. Even the negative ones. 

“I think I get it. The ‘wanting to argue’ thing.” Nima said softly. You lifted your head to look at her and she gave you a small smile. The Twi’lek reached out to set her hand on your shoulder with a comforting squeeze. “You want to have hot, angry make-up sex.”

Despite the sullen thoughts weighing you down, her words made a loud laugh slip from your lips. Nima look affronted that you were laughing at her theory, but you just shook your head and let the laughter die down to chuckles.

“I was serious.”

“I know you were. That’s why it’s funny.” You replied and took another sip of your drink. “But, I think I want to have not angry sex with him before I go for the other stuff.”

Nima’s eyes widened, “Wait, you guys haven’t⏤” You shook your head. “What the kriff are you waiting for!?”

“I don’t know.” You admitted. It was a fair question. “I think we’re going slow.”

“But, why?” Nima replied. “It’s obvious the two of you wanna jump each other’s bones. Half the city thinks you’re already married to him.”

You furrowed your brow, “Yeah, why is that? I get that the evidence stacked against us is damning, but to just assume we’re married?”

“Oh, I’ve been telling everyone the two of you are married.” Nima replied.

“What? Why??”

“I don’t know.” Nima shrugged. “Seemed fun. Figure it’ll be true one day.”

You scoffed, “Well, it won’t be if he disappears on the cursed world of Mandalore.” 

The words fell out of your lips with more pain than you meant to convey. Nima’s face fell and you lifted your drink to knock back the rest of it. That was a possibility, wasn’t it? Din and Grogu leave you to never return. Then what? You live in the house you shared with them alone? Listening to the ghostly echoes of where they used to be?

“Shots.” Nima called out to the bartender. “We need more shots.”

The two of you were four more shots in when a familiar face wandered toward you. Vanth leaned against the bar on your other side with a smile that you could tell was concerned. “Hey there, ladies.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, buddy!” Nima drunkenly lifted herself from her seat, nearly toppling over, and pointed at Vanth. “We aren’t interested. She’s married,” Nima pointed to you then pointed back to herself, “And I like pussy.”

Vanth’s eyes widened and you dragged her back down into her seat. “First, stop telling people I’m married. Second, stop announcing to the bar that you like pussy. And, third,” You motioned for Vanth to take a seat beside you which he did, “This is Cobb Vanth. He’s a friend from Tatooine and the replacement Marshal while Di⏤ Mando is gone.”

In your own tipsy stupor, you had nearly said Din’s name aloud. Luckily, Nima was too gone to notice and Vanth didn’t seem to care. He leaned over to over his hand in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you…?”

“Nima.” She replied curtly and held her hand out like a queen offering it to a peasant. You rolled your eyes, but Vanth just changed the position of his own hand to take hers with a small shake.

“Nima.” Vanth said. “Can I buy you two drinks?”

“I insist you do.” Nima nodded and pulled her hand away.

You chuckled with a shake of your head and tossed back the rest of the one in front of you so Vanth could get you a fresh one. Nima was babbling about something mechanical that you couldn’t follow along with and directing her words to anyone who glanced her way. 

“I’ve already apologized to Mando, but I feel like I owe you an apology too.” Vanth said. “I’m sorry about what happened on the tarmac.”

You snorted. “It wasn’t your fault for assuming Mando wasn’t keeping secrets.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it a secret.” Vanth shrugged, catching the bartender’s eye and holding up three fingers. He turned back to you. “I think the poor guy was just scared.”

“Mandalorians don’t feel fear.” Nima blurted out from behind you, apparently a part of the conversation now.

You shook your head. “I don’t care if he was scared as long as he tells me that he is.”

“Fair request.” Vanth shrugged. The drinks were brought over and you took a small sip of yours. The tipsy buzz floating in your skull was slowly shifting to just plain drunk, and a sadness crept in alongside it. You suddenly wished you were at home curled in bed⏤ curled in his bed. Listening to the soft snores of both him and Grogu. “So,” Vanth’s voice snapped you out of Din’s dark and safe room and back into the noisy cantina, “Where does that leave the two of you?”

“She’s dropping his ass.” Nima barked.

“Nima⏤” You whirled on her.

“You don’t need him! He’s abandoning you!” Nima cried and you took in the way her lower lip quivered for just a moment. “We don’t need either of them! They can⏤ They can go explore the kriffing galaxy or join the New Republic’s special forces team or whatever it is they want to do! We don’t care. We’re better than that. We don’t need them.” She turned and shook her head before taking a large sip of her drink. “I’m better off without her.”

You reached out, wordlessly, and pulled her hand away from the glass so you could hold it. Nima tangled her fingers with yours and squeezed once⏤ hers eyes glistening with unshed tears. You knew she had taken Cara’s departure worse than she wanted to admit. Nima was right. She didn’t need Cara. Nima was strong and beautiful and smart and incredible. Cara had been a friend but she had also been a bump in the road. She left selfishly when Nima needed her most, but Nima was going to rise above it. However, she had been wrong about you.

You did need Din. That’s why the thought of him leaving Nevarro was so jarring and painful. Coming here had been a way to escape your past and hide out, but you had never expected to find someone who would grow to be so important. Honestly, it was a bit scary if you thought about it for too long, but the truth was that you needed Din in your life. Him and Grogu. Without them, you’d have a gaping hole in your heart and you weren’t sure there was anything else in the universe that could fill that. Din hadn’t fully explained his reasoning, you hadn’t given him the chance, but you knew he wasn’t leaving you. Nima had been blindsided by Cara and left with nothing. Maybe it would’ve taken him forever, but Din wouldn’t leave without saying good-bye and you knew⏤ deep, deep down⏤ that he’d fight tooth and nail to return to you. 

“I’m sorry to ruin your night, Vanth.” You said, “But I think we’re gonna call it quits.”

“Don’t be silly.” Vanth shook his head. He tossed back his drink before rising himself. “I’ll walk you ladies home.”

You gave him a thankful smile knowing you were in no state to navigate to Nima’s house in the dark, put her to rest, then find your way back home yourself. Vanth chose to help Nima walk considering you had at least a little better control over your legs. The three of you stumbled out of the cantina into the warm night air⏤ it was time to go home.

Din didn’t have the time to put all his armor on, it was nearing one in the morning when his communicator went off, so he had simply thrown on the upper half of his flight suit, gloves, and boots. It left him in one of the more ridiculous outfits he wore considering his sweatpants did not match any item he adorned, but he just needed to get the door.

When he swung it open, Vanth stood on his porch with you in his arms sleeping soundly. He nodded toward your figure, “She was wide awake when we dropped off her friend, and was doing decent on the way here, but by time I reached the end of you street she was dozing off on her feet.”

“Thank you.” Din mumbled. He was quick to step forward and take you into his arms⏤ not enjoying the way you were snuggled into Vanth. Though he did appreciate the man bringing you home. “I really do appreciate this.” You shifted so you could bury your head into the crook of his neck and Din sighed. “Was she… How was she when you found her at the cantina?”

Vanth didn’t answer at first. He stared at Din for what felt like a long moment before looking at you then back to him again. Vanth chuckled, “I know I’m new to town, brother, so take this with a grain of salt.” He shook his head. “But it’s obvious she cares about you as much as you care about her. A fight now and then is normal, but don’t let it go on for too long. You don’t get time wasted back.”

“Thanks for the tip.” Din mumbled. 

Vanth gave him a quick nod before turning on his heel and leaving. Din shut the front door with his foot and carried you through the quiet house until he reached your room. The thought that you spent the night drinking until you were too inebriated to get home yourself bothered him more than he wanted to admit. You were a grown woman who could do what you wanted, but you had gone to specifically avoid talking to him. He found that incredibly annoying. 

It was like you were purposefully trying to rile him into lashing out, and that’s the last thing Din wanted to do. Din had a temper, but back during his bounty hunting years that was easily handled. He’d get angry, he’d go hunt a quarry and burn that emotion right out of himself. Now, he was in a setting where he didn’t have an outlet and he worked hard to keep that temper under wraps. Din had lashed out at Karga a time or two since his arrival, but that was expected and Karga was no stranger to his anger. 

Din settled you on your bed and began to carefully take off your boots followed by your socks and pants. He kept his gaze off your lower half as his only goal was to make you more comfortable. He stood and pulled your covers up to tuck you in. Din paused for a moment before pulling his helmet off and tucking it under one arm. He ran a hand through his messy hair and sighed. Maker, you were driving him up the wall. You had no idea the kind of fire you were playing with. It’s not like you were in danger, Din would tear his own heart out before hurting you, but he didn’t want to yell at you. 

“Ni aalar sha yaim ti gar.” Din sighed aloud. A reminder. He leaned forward to press his lips against your temple. Din would not lose his temper with you because he could not afford to lose you. He turned off your automatic alarm sitting on the night stand by the bed and wished you the same farewell he had to Grogu earlier in the night. “Nuhoy morut’yc, ner kar’ta.”

The headache you woke up with was nasty, and you swore in that moment to never drink again. Probably a fruitless promise to yourself, and not the first time you had claimed it, but right now you were miserable. You groaned and rubbed your face in your pillow before sitting up with a grunt. There was a weird amount of sunlight in your room and not just in ‘my poor hungover eyes are overly sensitive’ kind of way. You rubbed your face, glancing around, and it was then you realized the alarm sitting by your bed was off.

“Shit.” You breathed and jumped out of bed. The sheets tangled around your lower leg and you hit the floor with a curse. First you forgot to pick Grogu up from school and now you’d be late to taking him to school. Maker, you were so stupid. As reliving as it had been to drink and talk to Nima last night, it hadn’t been worth it for this. The speed in which you got dressed was startling and you burst into Din’s room to find it empty.

Your hungover brain realized much too late that this could’ve been bad if Din were in here with his helmet off. “Grogu??” You hurried out of the room and into the hall. When you stepped into the kitchen you were met with the smell of food and the sound of babbling. Grogu sat in his high chair eating with his father right beside him dressed and ready for work. “Grogu.”

“Ma!” Grogu greeted briefly before diving back into his food.

Din turned to stare at you and you rubbed your face in embarrassment, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why my alarm wasn’t on.”

“I turned it off.” Din shrugged. “Vanth brought you home late. Figured you needed to sleep in.” Din rose from his seat and began to try and clean Grogu up from the mess he had made of breakfast. “You’re fine. I can take Grogu to school this morning.”

“What?” You gaped in disbelief. 

“What?” Din echoed. 

“You hired me to take care of Grogu while you worked and I am failing at that right now.” You spat.

Din scoffed. “Failing is a bit dramatic. You made a mistake. It happens.”

“I show up passed out from drinking on a work night, and your response was to tuck me in and turn off my alarm??” You said as your voice began to raise. “Seriously??”

“Wasn’t a work night.” Din replied calmly. “I wasn’t on schedule.”

You groaned in frustration, “That’s not the damn point, Din!”

“Then what is the point?”

“The point is you’re supposed to be upset! You’re supposed to be angry!” You snapped. Grogu cooed nervously from his seat and you bit back as much of your anger as you could. “It’s a normal human response. Why can’t you just admit that you’re angry at me!?”

Din set his hands on his hips and shook his head. “Why do you want me to be angry at you so badly?”

“Because I want you to be human around me!” You snapped.

Din stiffened, and as much as you hated the way you worded that, you thought maybe it would be the line that pushed him over the edge. Instead, he just gave you a tight shrug. “Sorry. I didn’t realize I wasn’t being human around you.”

“Really?” You laughed in broken disbelief. “You’re not even going to react to that shitty thing I just said?” Din remained silent. “Whatever. I’m taking Grogu to school.”

“You don’t have to do that⏤”

“Actually, I do.” You replied sharply and scooped the boy up from the chair. Grogu reached up to set a hand on your face and you sighed⏤ momentarily finding peace. When your gaze lifted up to spot Din once more the peace fell away. “It’s my job. Remember? Might as well do what I was hired to do while Grogu is still in Nevarro.”

Din didn’t respond. He stood stock still. Enough so that a stranger could walk in and confuse him for a droid. On your way out, you scooped up Grogu’s bag by the door and hurried out. There was a sharp, acidic tang in the air that greeted you and you flinched at the smell. The sky was uglier than it had been yesterday, but you were already late so you pressed on. 

The entire rushed walk to school, you spent it apologizing to Grogu for yelling at his father in front of him. You shouldn’t have lost your temper in front of the child. As if he understood the situation entirely, Grogu babbled along with you and continued to give your face small pats of reassurance. Right outside of the school, Ms. Wynn stuck her head out to greet you.

“Hey, Wynn. I am so sorry about yesterday and for being late this⏤”

“Hurry, get in.” She grasped you by the wrist and tugged you inside. She shut the door tightly behind you and you glanced around the room to see all the children being kept busy by the other school workers. You gave Ms. Wynn a confused look and she sighed. “The storm is coming sooner than everyone thought. The watch people are estimating it to hit city center in the next twenty minutes or so. You can’t be outside.”

You shrugged, “I can get to clinic in fifteen.”

Grogu wiggled and whined in your arms so you set him down so he could run off to play with his friends. Ms. Wynn shook her head. “No. It’s not worth the risk. Volcanic ash storms are incredibly dangerous. The entire city is locking up right now.” You still thought you’d be able to make it, but before you could argue further your communicator began to beep. “I’ll let you take that. I need to start class.”

You nodded and watched her walk off before activating your communicator. “Hello⏤”

“Ner kar’ta?” Din’s voice crackled to life⏤ panic evident. “Where are you and Grogu??”

“At school. Wynn just locked us in for the storm.”

“Good.” You heard Din breathe out a breath of relief. “Just stay there until the storm passes. It should be over by this evening.” There was an awkward pause of silence before he cleared his throat. “If you need anything, call me. Please.”

“I will.” You replied. Then added, “You’ll be safe at home, right?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” You hummed. “I’ll, uh, talk to you later.”

The call ended miserably and you wandered to the side of the room where you could drop into a chair. The good news was you wouldn’t have to worry about Grogu like some parents probably worried about their kids. Minutes later, the sound of strong wind and debris rattled the metal sheet covering the window you sat by. It made you jump in alarm and you silently thanked Wynn for stopping you.

That had come much sooner than twenty minutes.

You had to applaud Ms. Wynn and the other workers for their tenacity. The storm outside sounded miserable and terrifying, but the kids seemed nonplussed by it with the way the teachers distracted them. Around the end of the first hour, Aayla contacted you to ask about a few people who had wandered out into the storm and then stumbled into the clinic. Most of the injuries had been superficial⏤ the exposure short term as they came from nearby buildings. You walked her through how to mix some paste for burns.

It was during the second hour that the patients got too complicated for Aayla.

“I don’t know what to do, Doc.” Aayla’s voice shook. “I keep having him use his inhaler, but after a few minutes he ends up needing it again.”

“I’m worried he’s scorched his lungs. His asthma making it that much worse.”

“Do I mix a paste? Or⏤ Or make a solution?”

You sank in your seat. It was a solution that needed to be made, which you trusted Aayla to do, but that fluid then needed to be aerosolized. That way the patient could breathe it right into his lungs. Working with the machine that did so was tricky and even you weren’t the best at it. You hated the idea of getting Aayla to attempt it only to make a mistake and take on that guilt herself. She was still new to medicine. That kind of guilt shouldn’t be weighed on her conscience considering she hadn’t been trained for this.

“What’s his oxygen status right now?” You asked.

“It’s in the mid-80s and that’s with an oxygen mask on.”

Dank farrik. He might not make it to the end of this storm. The patient could crash much sooner than that. You gave Aayla a few orders to keep the man stable then pushed to stand. You caught Wynn’s attention and the woman drifted closer after helping a child with a small task. She gave you a warm smile, and you returned a skeptical one.

“Hi. So, I need a jacket, scarf, and some sunglasses.”

Wynn warned you against your idea, but you were dead set. You had no choice. So, ignoring her advice, you pressed on. You soaked the scarf in cold water then wrapped it a few times around your mouth and nose to use as a makeshift filter. The glasses would hopefully at least protect your eyes a little, and the jacket was to cover up the remainder of your skin. You were thankful you hadn’t worn shorts today. 

You had traveled to the back door to leave that way none of the ash would slip into the same room as the kids. It would take you 15 minutes to get to the clinic. It was now or never, you supposed.

Din was furious. His temper running hotter than the volcanic ash whipping around him. As it turned out, his helmet would keep out the dangerous conditions surrounding him. Grogu’s teacher had reached out to him to let him know that you had traveled out into the storm to reach a patient. She had done so to ensure that someone else was aware of the situation. Din had thanked her before rushing out himself. 

He asked one thing of you today. One. 

He just wanted you to stay inside the kriffing school with Grogu. It wasn’t asking a lot considering the literal fire and ash raining outside. It was common sense for someone to stay inside. Din was literally just asking you to follow common human survival instincts, yet you still left. You left, not protected in beskar as he was, but rather dressed in a wet scarf and jacket. As if that was going to help a karking thing.

Din tried to hail you over the communicator but it never got through. He told himself it was because of the storm. If even a little ash got into the communicator it’d glitch. That had to be it. Din refused to believe anything could have happened to you. Still, fear mingled with his rage, but he chose to ignore that for the time being.

Black and gray wind swirled around him, whipping his cloak in every direction, as flickers of burning ash drifted in the air. It was so thick that he could barely see a few feet in front of him. If he wasn’t careful, he could step right over you on accident and not even know it. The thick ash was beginning to settle on the ground in thick piles like the snow of Hoth. When he reached the clinic doors, he saw the metal shutters were down. Din didn’t hesitate to slam his hand against the metal as hard as he could.

If nobody opened the door soon he’d break through the shutters. Sure, ash would collect in the clinic lobby, but he’d deal with that problem later. Luckily for everyone, the shudders cracked open and Din quickly slipped through. Miriam, the new girl, had opened the door for him. Din didn’t mean to blow her off, but he sped past her. She was clever enough to open the second set of doors without him having to have asked. 

Inside the room, were a few people sitting on the cots or against the wall with a pink paste rubbed into splotches on their skin. Aayla stood in front of an older man who was struggling to breathe. A nebulizer, the same kind of machine that blasted a mist of medicine for Grogu, was being held up in front of his mouth.

“Where the kriff is she?” Din snapped.

Aayla nervously stiffened in place. She pointed out of the room, “There’s a small break room down the hall. She’s⏤She’s in there.” Din spun to leave, but Aalya called out to him. He nearly ignored her until she spoke again. “I think she’s more injured than she lets on. There’s some leftover pink paste from the last batch for her skin burns. Right now, she’s using the other nebulizer.”

Din huffed out a small thanks before snatching the jar off a side table and following her instructions out of the room. He wasn’t familiar with the back halls of the clinic, but he didn’t need any more clues to find you. Halfway down the hall he could hear a barking cough. Din picked up his pace then threw the break room door open hard enough that it slammed into the wall.

You startled where you were sitting at a table with a nebulizer mask held in front of your face. Your eyes widened in surprise and you opened your mouth to begin to say his name only for you to begin coughing violently. Just for a moment, his anger subsided. Din hurried over and set a hand on your shoulder to evaluate your injuries.

“Injuries. What’s wrong?”

“Just⏤ Just some burns.” Your voice was hoarse. “Worst of it⏤,” You began to cough again, “Lungs. In my lungs. Medicine will help.”

You took a few more deep breaths of the nebulizer and Din let his eyes trace your exposed skin. There were patches of mildly burned skin on your hands and on your forehead and upper cheeks. The pattern made it clear to see the shape of the sunglasses you had worn. Din tore off his glove and threw it aside rougher than he intended. Your eyes widened but you didn’t say anything. Din dug his fingers into the paste and began to rub it over every single burn he could see on you⏤ no matter how small. 

When he was appeased that he got every single injury, Din shoved the jar aside angrily and huffed, “Are you out of your damn mind?”

“No.” You replied. Your voice already sounding better. “It’s not like I had a choice.”

“Excuse me?” Din narrowed his eyes at you.

“I had a patient who needed me.” You shrugged. Then, you had the audacity to roll your eyes and mutter under your breath, “Just relax, Din.”

Din pushed to stand so fast that the chair he sat in went sprawling back and you jumped at the sound. He set his hands on the table and leaned toward you. “Relax? Did you just tell me to kriffing relax??” You stared at him silently, and Din took a step back with a shake of his head. He scoffed. “Relax.” Din felt his blood boiling under his skin. “Bic ni skana'din.”

“Din⏤”

“No.” Din snapped. “You’re going to sit there, and you’re going to listen to me.” He leaned in once more. “You wanted me angry? Well, now I’m angry! Dank farrik! What the kriff were you thinking!? I told you to stay in the school. I made myself very clear.” He slammed a hand down onto the table in frustration. “Do you realize how badly that could’ve ended?!”

You set down the nebulizer mask, “Din, I had to⏤”

He reached out to snatch the mask from the table where you set it and forced it back into your hand. Din shoved your hand up so it was holding the mask by your mouth once more. “No, you didn’t. Those patients look fine in there.”

“The old man wasn’t.” You snapped back with a glare of your own. “He might not have made it till the end of the storm.”

“Was there a chance he could’ve?”

“I mean, I guess, but there was just as equal of a chance that he wouldn’t. I⏤”

“Then that’s the risk that gets made.” Din yelled. “You don’t risk your life like that ever again. Do you hear me!?”

“I’m a physician!” You cried. “What would you have me do, Din? Risk him dying⏤”

“Yes.” Din reached out and wrapped his hand gently on the side of your face. Din was breathing hard, his rage making him shake, but he kept his touch soft as he forced you to face him. “That’s exactly what I would have you do. I don’t give two shits about him, but you I can’t live without, ner kar’ta. Is that not clear to you!?” 

You shook your head. “You don’t mean that. You wouldn’t risk him dying.”

“Wouldn’t I?” Din let out a harsh laugh. He wouldn’t risk one of the citizens of his city dying. In your shoes, he probably would’ve done the same thing⏤ but that wasn’t the point. Din sucked in a sharp breath trying to get back to the point he was making. “If I tell you to stay put, in order to keep you safe, you will listen to me. Do you understand?” Your eyebrows furrowed deeper and Din understood the immediate distaste for his words, but he didn’t care. “I said, do you kriffing understand?”

The nebulizer stopped on it’s own and you tossed aside the mask before standing up with a scoff, “I understand, but I’m not promising you I won’t do the exact same thing again.” You tried to walk around the table, out of his reach, but Din mirrored your movements and met you on the other side to block you in. You shook your head. “This is my job. Helping people is what I do. I’m not going to put people at risk just because you don’t trust me to be competent enough to succeed.”

Maker, you were the most frustrating woman⏤ Din’s hands found his hips as he leaned into your space. “You think it’s a trust thing?” He barked out an angry laugh. “All it takes is one mistake, one miscalculated step, and that’s it. It’s not about competence or about trust. It’s about gambling, and I’m not going to let you gamble your life away for a stranger.”

“As if you’ve never gambled your life for a stranger before?? I highly doubt that.” You spat. “Din, you’re a good man and if you think⏤”

“No.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“I said, no. I’m not.” Din said through clenched teeth. You were going to be the death of him. He was vibrating with frustration. Fear grabbed control of him at the realization that this was who you were. You were good, to your core, and this was going to keep happening. It was clear on your face that you didn’t believe his words. You weren’t getting this, and Din wasn’t good enough with words to get you to. Resolution settled in his mind, determination, and his next words came out in a low growl. “Close your eyes.”

You blinked almost owlishly. “Huh?”

“Close your eyes, ner kar’ta.” Din demanded, his hands traveling to his helmet without pause. Your eyes widened in alarm before shutting tight. It scrunched your features up. Din tore his helmet off and slammed it onto the table before closing the space between the two of you.

Din had never kissed someone before, which seemed ridiculous considering the other acts he had performed, but the idea of it seemed easy enough. His hands found your jaw and he tilted your head up enough that he could press his lips firmly against yours. Din held them there until he felt your entire body slowly relax. He pulled back just a bit and opened his eyes to see your features had softened though your eyes remained closed. Din’s nose brushed against yours, unable to bring himself to pull away from you any further. He mumbled the next words out, exhausted, but tightened his grip around your face in hopes to get his message across loud and clear, “I am not a good man. I’m a selfish man, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do⏤ no line I wouldn’t cross⏤ to keep you and Grogu safe.” Din leaned his forehead against yours and sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I kissed you without asking permission. I just… Ner kar’ta, I cannot lose you and I didn’t know how to…”

“It’s okay.” You mumbled. “I‘ll forgive you on one condition.”

“And that is?”

“Kiss me again.” You breathed. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up to your toes, and Din didn’t hesitate to meet you halfway. His lips pressed against yours once more, but this time it wasn't so simple. It was messy, for lack of a better word. Your lips moved against his, furiously, and Din mimicked every action. It was as if the anger of your argument had shifted and transformed into this moment right here. Teeth clashing against teeth, tongue pressing against tongue. The kiss was desperate and felt like a battle. You versus him in a competition to devour the other, and Din was never one to back away from a challenge. 

He hooked his arms under your legs, lifting and turning, so he could set you on the table. Din’s hands shoved aside the nebulizer machine that sat in the way and he heard the device clatter against the tile floor. He’d buy the clinic a new one. Din pressed into you forcing you to either catch yourself by reaching back or continue clinging to him. You chose to keep your arms around his neck, wrapping around even tighter, and Din had to readjust and wrap his arms around your waist to keep you both from collapsing onto the table.

Din took a chance by nipping on your lower lip and the moan that left you was the perfect reward. He licked into your open mouth, a similar action you had done to him, and it deepened the kiss once more. Finally, breathlessly, Din was forced to pull back just enough to get air. You were panting as well⏤ the only sound in the room being the heavy breaths you shared between one another and the howling storm outside.

“I’m sorry I forgot to pick up Grogu.” You said and the disappointment in your whispered words made his chest ache. “I’m sorry I left last night instead of staying to talk. I’m sorry for yelling at you this morning.”

“No, I’m sorry.” Din replied. “All of this could’ve been avoided if I had just told you about Mandalore. I also promise to get more angry at you if you promise it’ll always end like this.” The soft, breathy laugh that left your lips was like a reassuring melody. You were safe. You were in his arms. You were okay. Din let out a breath of relief. “Ner kar’ta…”

You tilted your mouth against his to let a soft kiss linger against his. The exact opposite of the kind of kiss the two of you had shared. You sighed, “Why did it have to come to this? Why wouldn't you just admit you were upset with me?”

“I… I was worried about scaring you away if I lost my temper.” He admitted. “Things felt so good between us, so perfect, I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“Telling me how you really feel is never going to ruin anything, Din. I want that. I want to know what you’re thinking.” You replied. “Fighting isn’t always a bad thing.”

Din pressed his lips softly against yours once⏤ twice⏤ three times. “I can see that.” Maker, maybe taking his helmet off was a bad idea. After getting to feel your lips against his it was going to be twice as difficult to maintain his control. “I need to put my helmet back on, ner kar’ta.”

You chuckled and set a soft kiss against his cheek before releasing him. Din took one more second to stare at you, unhindered by his visor, and he loved the way your lips were swollen from his. He grabbed his helmet and tugged it back on. When it was back in place he let you know. It was cute the way you peeked out of only one eye, just in case, before letting both open. 

“I think I’m ready to talk about Mandalore now.” You shrugged. “Unless, you have something better to talk about?”

Din chuckled and gave you a small shrug. “We can talk about how you were my first kiss, if you’d like.”

“I am?” Your eyes widened. “Seriously?” He nervously gave you a small nod⏤ face burning under his helmet. “Oh man, I am so sorry. If I had know I would’ve⏤ would’ve⏤ I don’t know. Been gentler?” Din laughed at the concern drawn all over your face. Your lips twitched up but you gave him a small shove. “I’m serious! Maker, I was basically going for your tonsils…”

Din lifted a hand to hold your chin. “I’m not complaining.” He leaned his cold forehead against yours. “And by the way, I am proud of you. I’m so proud of everything you do. I… Can you promise to at least call me before you do something risky?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “I can promise that.”

Din would take the victory where he could.

mando'a translations:

Nuhoy morut'yc, adi’ka

Sleep safe, little one.

Ni aalar sha yaim ti gar

I feel at home with you.  

Nuhoy morut’yc, ner kar’ta.

Sleep safe, my heart.

Bic ni skana'din.

Expression of being angry or repelled, i.e. ‘that really ticks me off’

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastovaova @uwu-i-purple-youu @modiddys-blog @harriedandharassedd @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @xxinvisblexx @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @sydney-1209 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal

[writing-makes-me-human]

Trial By Water 🐚: Part 2

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Pairing: Aonung X reader

PART ONE: HERE

Summary: Aonung meets your parents as is tradition for your clan and it doesn’t go over well, he then gives you a gift and you watch his jealousy over another man simmer over.

Word Count: 4.2 k

Warnings: Hurt to comfort, jealousy, none.

A/N: Hello I am working on the next part of my other series Love and Guests (which you should check out) and three requests I’ve gotten so if my posting schedule suddenly becomes a nightmare that is why. Please enjoy xx

Also finally made my masterlist workable, I’m gonna work on making it cute after I finish my other series.

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A few days had passed since that day on the beach when Aonung confessed to you that he intended to pursue you to be his mate, and since then, all hell broke out.

You had come back hand in hand after the night of bashful glances and flirting under starlit skies, and rumors had encased the village like a wildfire burning through the woods. These dirty rumors wouldn't have troubled you if the stories hadn't spread to your parents, and while it seemed that you had made up your mind about which of the two suiters you would pick, your parents had other plans in store for you.

Your clan had many rules and traditions that had to be followed during the period of courting a mate, and your parents were traditionalists in every sense of the word. They cared very strongly for their people, and to them, that meant you must find a mate who followed the rules to an extreme level, and Aonung was not the rule-following type.

Ixa'Tey knew of your mother's temperament towards managing oneself punctually. So while he would arrive at every agreed meeting on time bearing gifts, Aonung would come as he usually did to all other meetings, late and still wet from the water with a grin on his face.

Aonung knew your parents to be strict and quite conventional in most of their ways, but he thought they would have put that aside when they saw the fact that you were quite clearly in love with him, nobody else. He was wrong.

The first meeting between the parents and the admirer was critical to setting up a long line of contact that would continue throughout everyone involved lives if the mating ritual was successful and blessed by Eywa.

You had awkwardly been pacing outside your family's pod for ten minutes before he finally turned up. He was still damp from the water, and a devilish grin was on his face.

"Hey, sorry I'm late, I got held up", he didn't take much notice of your exasperated face.He leaned in and gave you a peek on the cheek, but as he withdrew, your mother sharply opened the flap to her pod to ask you for the fifth time where the boy was. Her eyes crossed sharply between the two of you with a scowl aimed at the boy when she saw his position.

He finally seemed to pick up on the tension, and his ears dropped along with his smile. He put his fingers to his forehead and withdrew them. Your mother copied the action but did not speak to welcome him.

She turned and walked deeper into the pod, waiting for you to welcome him inside.

You sighed and gently gripped his arm, squeezing it to reassure him that he would be alright. He looked down at you and whispered another apology with his pupils blown at the sight of you with sacred clothing and decorated hair that was anticipated with this type of ritual.

You led him forward and cleared your throat so your father would look up from the knife he was sharpening. Aonung tried to stay strong, he really did, but your old man had a glare on his face that could have challenged medusa.

"You are late", your father rumbled, his voice filling out the space and then some with his clear show of dismay at Aonung's tardiness.

"I'm sorry, I had no intention of upsetting you, I got distracted with a matter", your favorite courter spoke, his voice filled with the same tone his father used when he wanted to talk to his people about a serious matter.

"A matter that was more important than my daughter?" Your father took the sharpened weapon and pointed it towards him threateningly before he placed it beside him on the mat.

Aonung was caught for words. Usually, when he told people he was busy, they just accepted it because he was the chief's son, and of course, he had somewhere to be, something noble he was learning for the betterment of his people, but right now he became aware that this was not going to be a usual interaction.

"Sit down", your father commanded, taking displeasure in the boy's silence that was misinterpreted as idle contemplation.

You could feel the unease radiating from your boy. It seemed to be clocking in place that this wouldn't be easy.

The silence was stony as your mother reappeared with four bowls filled with fresh fish dosed in spices and herbs.

Your mother walked around and gave her husband and then Aonung their food, leaving you for last. When you gripped the bowl from her hands with a gentle thanks, you couldn't hold back the one-syllable gasp you let out as you looked down at the food and then at your mother, who busied herself with getting a drink for everyone.

You had told her specifically, anything other than this dish, it was Aonung's least favorite meal, and it was something he despised eating.

You quickly looked over at Aonung as he looked over the food with a distanced look of mild revulsion. When your mother turned around, he smiled politely and complimented her on the smell of the meal as she handed him a full cup of water which he gratefully took.He spared you a look over the rim of the cup as he sipped the water. His eyes tried to assure you that he would be okay while yours widened in questioning.

You had seen him literally spit this meal from his mouth on multiple occasions, but he couldn't refuse the meal. That would have been beyond insulting to your mother and would end the meeting far too early.

He dug into the bowl and picked up a piece of diced fish, spooning it into his mouth as you and your parents did the same.

Your mother's eyes were trained on him as he chewed, waiting for any noise that could be directed to disgust, but he seemed to take the meal as a challenge and ate every bite without letting out a single noise of nausea.

It was such a small thing, but you were proud of him, he was a picky brat most of the time, and this small act showed he was serious about winning you and your family over.

"You know, Aonung is the fastest swimmer in the clan", you spoke in between bites, feeling the need to defend your love against your mother's blatant attack.

Your father hummed in acknowledgment but didn't raise his eyes from his bowl, scoffing down the food without much contribution at chatter.

"And he's a fine warrior, he can take out any man in a fight, I've even seen him beat his father", you nodded to your mother, who eyed your flattery curiously.

You hadn't been so forward with speaking of Ixa'Tey's achievements when he had been here a few nights ago, and she could see by the way your proud smile adorned your face that you were ruthlessly trying to convenience them he would be a good match.

"y/n!" Aonung muttered your name in an order for you to stop. He could tell his presence was not going down well, and in his eyes, it was not the time to start bragging about his abilities.

"It's true! And he's a mighty hunter, he brings back twice as many fish as any of the other hunters", you could feel his shame radiating off him, but your father finally quirked his eyes up, sharing a look with your mother before returning to you.

Your father's frown was deep, and you could see a spark of rage in his eyes as he stood up and scowled down at you and Aonung. Your mother placed a hand on his waist to try and coax him back down, but your father was on a road he couldn't be deterred from.

"I would like to meet this man you speak of because I only see a boy in front of me. He turns up late without an offering, then he dares to say nothing at your honor when I ask him of your importance!" Your father was yelling, all the neighbors would most likely hear the loud shouts, but you didn't care about them.

You gazed at Aonung during the speech and watched as his ears flattened and his tail hid beneath his legs. He suddenly felt very voiceless at everything, and it shocked you with an anger you didn't know could be aimed at your father.

You stood up, eyes flaring with fury as you felt the disappointment in your parents for derailing this evening so badly turn into infuriation.

"And what about you? What about your faults? Mother, you haven't even spoken to Aonung since he arrived, instead, you make a meal you know he hates and watches him suffer for your amusement! He has apologized for being late, and perhaps he didn't answer your question, father, because your rudeness struck him!" You could feel Aonung's presence behind you as he stood up and grabbed your wrist with his clean hand. A silent plea to sit down in his eyes.Feeling defeated by your father's icy glare, you sat down again, cursing everything within sight at the war this dinner had become.

"I think perhaps we should re-schedule", your mother piped up after three minutes of uncomfortable silence passed in which your father's glare switched from Aonung back to you several times.

"You've been unfair", you swallowed the fear of crossing your father again so openly and let your hand wrap around Aonung's to pull him towards you.

"He is a good man, father I swear to you, he just needs you to give him a chance", your tone of malice fell as you squeezed Aonung's hand and gave him a spare glance.

He looked at you with so much pride it nearly broke your heart open. You both knew you had chosen each other, and as soon as the ceremonies were over you two wouldn't be able to keep from one another.

Just because your parents had already silently chosen Ixa'Tey didn't matter because you knew that Aonung was destined to be your mate, and if you had to defy a few dumb rules written by your ancestors to secure him in your life, then so be it.

Aonung had enough of being scared into silence and stared at your father, prepared to speak for himself after you had done so for so long.

"I was late because my sister's mate had an accident, I never meant to disrespect you or y/n, I care for her deeply", he took a deep breath before he continued, "But if I am to be Olo'eyktan then sometimes I have to be late to things, even if I let them down".

You smiled, gratified at his selflessness that was now beginning to show care for your people through purposeful actions instead of his silent brooding as it had been a few years ago.

"I am here to court your daughter, and I swear that no matter what, I will be there for her when she really needs me, but I have to prioritize people's safety", even though a part of you highly doubted that Lo'ak had been in an accident and this was most likely a white lie to get out from under the moral high ground your father had over him, you couldn't help but beam at his show of maturity.

While there were lies and things you knew Aonung didn't mean thrown into his speech for the show to impress your father, you knew that he meant it as a way to please you. He only agreed to come to this dinner at your begging, and if your parent's approval were what you wanted, then he would get it for you, even if he had to pretend to give a shit about Lo'ak or his future duties as Olo'eyktan.

You looked up to your father and waited as he deliberated an answer to you both. In his eyes, you could see that he knew you had picked Aonung over the other boy, but he still couldn't decide if he would allow it.

He grumbled before sitting back down in his place, grabbing his bowl to scrape the remnants off the edges and into his mouth.

Your mother's face was pulled into a tight line, but she said nothing and stood up to hand around a handful of large damp leaves you could all use to clean off your hands with.When she sat back down, your father spoke, letting the words fill the room and silence any speaking of the later arguing.

"So, you are a hunter?" He asked Aonung, his eyes grazing up and down the young man before resting to hold eye contact.

"Yes, sir", Aonung cleared his voice, trying to act nonchalant about the whole interaction.

"I will take you on a hunt then, and test to see if my daughter is right about her claims", your father's eye fell on his food, and it allowed you and Aonung the time to side-eye glance each other with childish smirks on your faces as if you had just gotten away with something.

The rest of the evening went silently, if not for the odd question from your father, who asked Aonung how his father was and if he had heard any news about the sky people.

Once dinner was finished, you excused yourselves under the guise of walking Aonung home when the reality was you were both running down the beach as far away from your family's pod as you could get to rant and rave about every detail.

You had pushed his shoulder slightly when you exited the pod, and then he pushed back, and before long, you had raced each other along the beach and settled yourselves against a rock that was peeled back and revealing itself due to low tide.

You heartily laughed as Aonung came and pressed a kiss to your cheek and then commanded he sits beside you and nestles into your side against the cold breeze that was enveloping the land.He sighed merrily as you clung onto one another, it was all a peaceful and rather loving moment of watching the eclipse occur together until his dumb voice had to shatter the tender moment.

"Do you think I should go and break Lo'ak's leg for safe measure?" He chuckled at himself while burying his mouth into the nape of your neck, trying to hide the fact the sentiment was half serious.

You gasped in faux shock and pulled away from him theatrically, watching his brow crease in confusion as you hadn't entirely laughed at his tease towards his sister's mate yet.

"You don't mean to say it was all a lie, do you? That the real reason you were late is that you were probably slacking off with Rotxo and forgot the time?" You laughed at his sheepish face and apologist attitude.

"I wasn't messing around with Rotxo, it was serious, I promise", he said with a half-baked regretful tone that begged for you to come back and lay in his arms.You did so with the tease still sharp on your tongue.

"Really? What was so serious?" You were smiling like a fat cat, sure that you had him cornered.You didn't mind that he was late, you knew the type of person you intended on being with, and every quality he had was what made up someone you would be blessed to spend the rest of your days with, and his carefree attitude was something you treasured.

Of course, you had wanted him to meet your parents, and while you had been worried that he had forgotten or simply stood you up, as soon as he had come running to you, at that moment, the feelings you had for Aonung seemed to sink in and the thought that Aonung would be here for you like this every day was world-changing to you.

"I was getting something for you", he muttered under his breath while he nervously looked up at the sky, watching the stars that had quickly begun to appear thanks to the cover of darkness granted by the eclipse.

You turned in his arms, staring at his face with a raised brow at the bashful tone he had suddenly taken.

"Oh really? What?" You still felt the bite of your sassy tone, but there was also a curious glint in your eye which seemed to give Aonung a stroke of confidence.

He debated in his head for several seconds before he pushed himself back a bit and reached around his waist to the burlap sack that was tied to his waist, which was usually filled with pretty shells or small tools.

He dug around for a spell before his fingers grabbed hold of something and pulled it out to present to you.

In his palm, it appeared to be just a jumble of dark brown cord and three large shiny stones, but as he took his other hand and held it above your head, you gasped in awe.

The necklace was made up of a brown cord that would wrap around the neck in a semi-lose grip with two jet-black stones, both the size of a tooth that deviated at the front. To connect the ends of the necklace together, there was a blood-red stone that would lie flat in the middle of your chest when worn.

You reached up to touch it, but Aonung playfully snatched it away with a smile on his face that he could have used to power the sun.

"Surely you don't want to wear both, they'll clash against each other", he gestured down to the simple brown cord bracelet with the pearl centered on it that Ixa'Tey had made for you with a devilish grin.

You wanted to scorn him and tell him that just because you had picked each other that didn't mean you could hurt the other boy's feelings like that with such a clear sign of implicit rejection.Upon seeing your look of half-entertained critique about his terms of accepting his gift, he shrugged and went to put the necklace back into his side, but you quickly grabbed onto his arm and shouted in protest.

"No wait!" You could feel your blush overtaking your face at the loud plea you let out, which immediately let Aonung know you were fond of the beautiful necklace he had made.He smirked and pulled the necklace back up as if he was holding a fish over an Ilu to try and convenience it to do something it didn't want to.

"You really are a jealous man, you know that?" You huffed as you toyed with the adjustable ends of the bracelet on the other side of your wrist.

"Well, you are mine, aren't you? Everyone should know that, and Ixa'Tey should do better next time he tries to win over me", he spat out the other boy's name as he stared down at the bracelet with a jealous twitch in his eye.

You shook your head with a false frown on your face as your heart soared at the bold declaration of interest and protectiveness over you.

You gave in and slowly, as if you were teasing him, pulled the left cord of the bracelet to let it grow bigger until you slid off the bracelet and held it up between your fingers for him to see.

"Happy?" You sighed as you went to put the bracelet away in your own side sack that you used for carrying snacks and bits you had collected over the years of being outside.

"No, I want you to throw it away", his smirk had turned predatory as he demanded more of you.

"I can't do that!" You yelled. Yes, the bracelet looked abysmal when held up to the beauty of what Aonung had created for you, but it had still been made for you out of the kindness of someone's heart.

"Fine, then perhaps I will find another pretty girl who wants my gift", Aonung gave a mock shrug as he went to leave.

He had just gotten down from the rock and let his hand down to replace the necklace, but you allowed him to push you around with ease for the second time that night.

"Okay, okay!" You jumped up and followed him down to the sand as you quickly ran in front of him to prohibit him from going any further.

He cocked his head to the side with a shit-eating grin on his features that made you desperately want to hide under a rock and never emerge out of fear he would see exactly how his charm affected you.

You took your heel, and right in front of him, you kicked a hole into the beach to cover up the bracelet as he watched on with far too much enjoyment in his eyes.

You had to kick away as much sand as possible before dropping the bangle into the hole that was as deep as your middle finger. You crouched down to the ground, and you could feel Aonung's high spirits at seeing you quite literally on your hands and knees to receive the gift he had created.

You pushed all the sand over it to try and hide the evidence of the gift ever existing, while the shame of going to so much effort only lightly played on your mind as you looked up to see Aonung's eyes glowing with the light of the stars.

His figure was visible with the light of the sky above you, and it made your breath swallow you whole as his smile shocked you back into reality.

"Now can I have my gift", you tried to act as casually as you could with your sandy palm outstretched to take the jewelry off him.

He gently shook his head at your hand, and for a second, you thought he was about to ask you to do something else, but just as you were about to put your foot down, he rolled his eyes and turned his finger in a circle to tell you to twist yourself around.

You gleefully did so, nearly crashing into his chest in your eagerness to accept the jaw-droppingly beautiful offering.

He chuckled as you crouched down slightly to allow him the space he needed to bestow it above your head and onto your neck.

He brought the necklace above your head and brought it down over your skull. You thought he would leave you to adjust the fitting, but he lovingly grabbed as much of your hair as he could and gently pulled it out from under the rope so that it could lay on top of the accessory, and then to your surprise, he leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to your shoulder making you shiver.

He ran his finger along the spot where he had kissed, and it took everything you had to pull away from him.

"You are the most beautiful thing Eywa ever created", he cooed to you, the words ringing in your ears.

You turned to him leisurely and let your hands reach down to inspect the necklace with an ecstatic smile on your face that he decided made the several hours of swimming to find the matching stones and violent red crystal worth it.

"I'll wear it forever", you smiled, feeling the love he had put into the work consume you.

"I'm glad you like it", he dared to move closer to you, feeling your breath over his jaw.The feeling that had been with you on the other side of the island all those days ago returned, and while you knew that your parents would be ropeable if they ever found out you proceeded without their blessing, you didn't care.

You closed the gap and pressed your lips against his in the softest peck you could manage, which made Aonung's lungs nearly collapse as he chased after your lips.

The peck was turned into a passionate kiss as he tilted his head to press his open lips against yours. The feeling of his soft, plump lips under your own made the whole planet turn on its head as you desperately pulled him closer so you two could deepen this kiss.

When the natural end of the kiss came, and you both pulled back, you could see his lips were hooded over with a glaze of mirth, and his lips were damp from your spit.

You wanted to thank him for the gift and the kiss, but you could only seem to get out stutters of noise which made him let out a breathy chuckle that wasn't quite teasing and sent an erotic wave of desire through your stomach.

"If that's all it takes to get a kiss from you, I'll give you something every week", he brought you forward and pressed his forehead against yours in a repeat of what happened last week.

You placed one hand on his chest while the other clutched onto the red crystal of your necklace. The feeling of his heart racing beneath your palm made your erotic needs die out, and your snarky habits emerged.

"I don't think your heart could take a kiss from me every week", you laughed as you tapped your finger over his chest in time with his heart, showing that it was going quite quickly.

He pulled back from you with a roll of his eyes as he stuck his heavy bicep over your shoulder and made you carry the dead weight as he guided you both back to the pods.

"That's enough out of you girl, come on, keep up, how are you going to be Tsahik if you can't even carry my arm?" He was taking great pleasure in watching you struggle to lift the arm off your back that was too heavy for you to raise.

"How will you be chief when all your muscle is in your arms rather than your brain?" You chortled back as he laughed and took the weight off you, instead enveloping you in a side hug as you two wandered back home.

[good-beanswrites]

A little something featuring Fuuta and Es after talking about their criminal lack of interaction in fanworks with @waivyjellyfish ! You had such awesome ideas (a few of which I'm still bouncing around in my head to post at some point,) but this one ended up taking over my brain -- I hope you enjoy 😅 Attempting to answer the widely-debated question:

“Oi, why didn’t you hit me?”

Es looked up from their paperwork.

“Prisoner number three. Most people are glad when they’re not struck.”

“Well, I’m not.” 

Es usually left the door open at this hour, in case anyone had any last-minute complaints before curfew. No one usually took them up on the offer. They figured that if there was any prisoner they could count on to complain, it would be Fuuta marching through their door.

“You hit all the other guys. You even hit some of the girls that were giving you trouble. So what? You think I’m too weak? You think I can’t take it?” Fuuta spread his arms. “I can, so show me what you’ve got!”

Es sighed. They put down their pen. They folded their gloved hands together, resting their chin on top. “Fuuta, I’m not going to hit you.”

“Why not?”

“As of right now, I have no reason to. If you’re referring to the interrogations…”

They reflected on the first one they'd shared with him. To be fair, the thought had crossed their mind. It would have been satisfying to give this rowdy prisoner a taste of his own medicine – striking him after such a dramatic charge at them. But Es was always good at reading people. It didn’t take them long to understand Fuuta was the type to lash out first and ask questions later. In fact, that was likely what had landed him in Milgram in the first place. 

Although Es knew they weren’t here to do any reformation, they wanted to try to show these prisoners where they’d gone wrong. So, they resolved to act as the bigger person. They’d prove that senseless violence was just that. By keeping their composure, they’d show Fuuta just how childish he was being. 

That wasn’t my only reason. I guess that's true, my actions weren’t all purely righteous. I still spent the entire time looking for ways to make him squirm… But it wasn’t all cruelty. I really did want to understand. I wanted to help. That counts for something, right?

Es never struck the prisoners out of anger, or as a petty show of power. It was a way to force the prisoner to mind their ego. When they’d gotten a bit too full of themselves, a bit too comfortable with the awful deed they’d committed, Es’ blow encouraged them to feel a bit more humility and guilt. 

By the time the second trial arrived, Fuuta oozed guilt. 

The moment Es entered the interrogation room, it was clear that he needed no lesson in humility. He hugged his arms to his chest. His remaining eye darted around the room in thinly-veiled hysteria. His voice trembled when he spoke. It didn’t require any people-reading skills to hear the remorse that underlaid all of his accusations and threats.

Hitting the others felt like giving a dog a tap on the nose after breaking a rule. Meanwhile, Fuuta snapped and snarled like a stray who’d been kicked time and time again.

Of course, he could never know any of this. Any way Es phrased it, Fuuta would misunderstand it as pity.

Well, wasn’t it? I thought he looked like a kicked puppy – that sounds a lot like pity. No, it was out of respect. Does that mean I didn’t respect the prisoners I did hit? No. I respected them too. Then, what’s the difference?

Fuuta was still staring at them, asking the very same question. What’s the difference?

“Each of Milgram’s prisoners is unique.” 

They were met with an unimpressed glare.

Es chose their words carefully. “Each one responds best to a variety of treatments. Some need attention to be comfortable, while others need time. Some need validation in order to confess. Others, a bit of debate does the trick. Some need a show of force. You –” remind me too much of myself  “– require something else. I’ve learned to change my approach depending on the person I’m dealing with.”

Fuuta’s features flashed with confusion, then shame, then his usual mask of anger. “Tch. How pathetic.”

“Excuse me?”

“So you just change your personality when it’s convenient? You put up fake smiles and fake attitude? Have some balls and just be yourself.”

Es was caught by surprise. “... I am. Those are all pieces of myself. I choose to bring out different parts when it would be most helpful.” 

“Sounds manipulative as hell to me.” 

It makes sense he doesn’t understand. He’s a very clear-cut person, with every aspect of his personality lining up in a way that makes sense. I find that predictability fun. Or, is it something that I envy? Could it be both?

They had no time to dwell on it, as Fuuta was struck with an idea. “Though, if you can do it on command, why don’t you give me the ‘you’ that wants to hit someone?” 

He spread his arms once more, hands gesturing to his chest. Es pretended not to notice him wince. They remained in their seat. 

“What are you waiting for? Hit me!” 

“I will not.”

“You just said you can change your personality on a whim, so let’s see it!” 

“That is not what I said.”

His good eye began to look frenzied. He raised his voice. “You scared? The big bad warden of Milgram, nothing but a big coward!”

“Stop this. You’re acting childish.”

“No! You’re treating me childishly! Let me see the Es that kicked Shidou! The one that slapped Kazui! Treat me like you treated them!”

“I hit them because they said something stupid. They deserved it.”

“Are you fucking kidding? I deserve it too! I deserve it! Come on!”

At the last word, his voice broke. He stumbled to his knees. He let his head drop. He sucked in strained breath after strained breath. Shidou would surely give him a lecture about getting so worked up with his injuries. 

Es finally stood.

They made their way around the desk. They knelt on the floor in front of him. 

“Why?” he wheezed. “Tell me…”

“Fuuta.” 

Should I just go ahead and do it, just to make him happy? No, I want to talk it out. But what do even I say? I'll tell him that I care. I can’t. None of the prisoners understand that I care. Why? Why is it so hard for them to see? I’m trying my best, why can’t they see? 

Es extended their hand carefully. They didn’t know what they hoped to accomplish, but in that moment their thoughts were too loud and conflicting. They needed to do something.

Fuuta saw the gentle intention, and immediately raised his own hand to strike. It froze midair, though whether it was from Milgram’s restrictions or his own hesitation, Es would never know.

Neither of their gestures connected.

Footsteps. Then Yuno’s voice, hesitantly from the doorway. “We heard shouting, is everything alright in here?”

Es retracted their hand.  A beat. Fuuta dropped his, too. 

“Yuno. Yes, we’re fine. Fuuta was just heading to bed. I’m going to walk him to his cell.”

“I can handle myself.”

“I said, I’m going to walk him to his cell.” 

Es stood, nodding to Yuno. When she’d gone, they turned their attention back to the prisoner crumpled on the ground. They made an effort to quiet their ever-racing thoughts. 

“Listen. I know you can handle yourself. I’m not doing this because I think you’re weak. You’re strong. Don’t think for a moment that I don’t see that.”

They held out their arm to help him up. He didn’t move.

“Sometimes you are a bit too strong, if you ask me. I mean, picking fights with your prison warden, really?” They clicked their tongue. “You should be grateful for a superior that gives you second chances.”

At last, Fuuta  took their hand. He avoided meeting their eyes, but his voice had softened considerably from his rant. “The only thing you give me is a headache.”

Es offered a dry smile as they pulled him to his feet. “The feeling is mutual.”

[lol-jackles]

Is it just a side effect of being somewhat disappointed in who Jensen presents himself in recent years, or is it normal that I find Dean's sad monologues less meaningful and more over dramatic the more times I watch supernatural?

For me, many of the earlier ones hold up well, but him talking to his dad’s grave in What is and What Should Never Be just feels a bit silly now. Like, that’s not even your real dad’s s grave, dude. And the mirror scene in Regarding Dean feels a bit self-indulgent. Even him talking to Mary inside her head just seems like … too much? It’s like I can feel the show going, “Get ready for it … we’ve got a scene coming up where Dean is going to emote all over you! Cue up the one perfect man tear!" Or the whole over the top apology to Castiel in purgatory.

It could just be the natural effect of rewatching, but I often find the emotional monologues less impactful. Yet, I still enjoy watching Jared play soulless Sam, and looking at how different he is from normal Sam. Or seeing how he deteriorated during the trials era.

I guess I’m just wondering if I’m just biased now. Or if there is a more legitimate reason that Jensen’s emotional scenes loose effect on me while Jared’s characterization still fascinated me.

There’s a reason why I didn’t choose the scenes you mentioned for my "Jensen’s best acting" posts.

I suspect the main issue was the lack of organic build up so it felt slightly out of the left field. Look at the ~build up to Dean's emotional conversation to Mary in 12x22:

12x3 - Dean refuse to look at Mary when she tries to day good-bye

12x4 - Dean wonders why Mary isn't calling or texting him

12x6 - Dean wouldn't talk to Mary

12x7 - Dean is angry that Mary isn't calling or texting him

12x12 - Can't remember if Dean and Mary interacted while Sam was killing Ramiel.  

12x13 - Dean bans Mary from the bunker

12x15 - 12x20: Dean is mad that Mary isn't calling or texting him

The saving grace of Dean's speech in 12x22 was it was about how Mary's demon deal had destroyed Sam's life and her death destroyed the family. This speech was a long time coming and it need to happen, but the build up to it should have been better executed.

Dean's apology-prayer in 15x09 also didn't have an organic build up, which was why Jensen comes off as overacting.  They didn't spend any time showing why Benny was such a big deal, he wasn't even in the “Then” portion of the intro, so the general audience had no clue who this Benny is because he was last seen 7 seasons ago. Then this was supposed to be the build up to Dean's apology-prayer: 

Dean: I know you’re sorry about mom

Cas: I’m so over your dead mother. I was talking about Jack

Dean: *shocked pikachu face*

In contrast to 4x11 when Dean revealed to Sam about his time in hell and broke down into an emotional confession how after 30 years on the rack, he broke and took up torturing souls and he liked that.  That breakdown makes sense because the preceding episodes were building up to Dean’s breakdown and he earned the right to do so. 

[prince-liest]

Your last 666 series installment is the best thing that happened to me. Its full of gore, somehow fluffy and wait-.. do I finally see some FRICKING COMUNICATION between the two idiots!?!?!

Ngl, Vox's 'Alastor not being able to love' statement hurt my soul. Your writing is brilliant and and let's just see what ending ya wro-..O MA LORD IS THAT VAL'S LOVE POTION!?!?!?!?

Now I need to know what's next!!!! And VOX I SWEAR IF U USE THIS SITUATION IN ANY WAY IM GOING TO SKIN YOU ALIVE.

This series is a blast♡ love it!♡ makes me weirdly passionate and excited hah!

Some communication, and some communication failure, hahaha. They're going to be talking a lot more in the next one, actually, because I meant to write some NSFW and they had to go and attempt a healthy conversation instead. What can you do.

Thank you so much, I'm delighted that you're enjoying! :D

And: Way more anon asks about the latest 666 getting answered under the cut! <3 I combined a bunch from the last couple of days.

prince, I'm going insane over the latest fic. so we know from Alastor's inner monologue that he knows the roofie was an accident, but considering the super stressful situation, the fact that Vox was the one to ask for a kiss and the fact that Alastor accused him of wanting instead of loving him not a few minutes ago…. makes me wonder if Vox might not be at least a little worred that Alastor might think it was on purpose <3 gonna be rotating this in my head for the foreseeable future - ✨

I am so glad that these things are on y'all's minds, hahaha. Because you can bet they are on mine. >:D And THANK YOU, very pleased to be dragging everyone down into insanity with me.

“Should I stitch together the scars your teeth left in me in a mirror of my own signature on your body.” Fucking. POETRY. 🐈‍⬛

I am always so happy when I write shit like this and instead of everyone pointing at me and going, "Look, what an EDGELORD!" the response is you people being VERY nice and leaning into the feelsy fun! 💛

holy moly ??? i love the new 666 addition aaaah 😭🙏 the trials and tribulations of feeling scorned and ghosted by a loser who confessed his love to you and the next time you see him he’s holding your LITERAL heart in his hands by alastor ! OMFG this was too good esp the part where vox is like “bro why do YOU CARE ?? i thought you didn’t love me huh?” and alastor is like well. maybe i.do. 😐 LIKE CMONN this really played out like some soap drama and i loved the neat details on resuscitative thoroctomy (learned a new word too so double bonus) the fact vel was on the line w her and val’s apparent surgeon for val’a little ‘incidents ??? GOLDEN I SAYY hope we see more of ur oc … 🫣🫣 btw ofc vox would love to an end an argument with a kiss OF FUCKING COURSE HE WOULD 😭 thank u sm for this chapter princeliest my dear <3 hope life is treating u well too !! -🦌

Vox is ahead of Alastor in terms of effective in-the-moment conflict resolution, but goddamn if he isn't fucked up in his own fun little ways. They're so not done with most of these issues, but at least they're on they're way to maybe be able to have a real conversation about them!

You know. If they chose to do that kind thing. Instead of whatever they will probably do instead.

Anyway, THANK YOU!! I had a great deal of fun writing this chapter and digging into some of the issues that have been slowly collecting underneath the surface of kinky radiostatic, so I'm happy you guys are enjoying as well!! :D

AS FOR MY OC... I WILL POST ABOUT THEM SOON. I LOVE THEM A LOT AND IT EXCITES ME THAT PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW MORE OF THEM. Tysm for asking Q^Q

Just read the new addition to the 666 verse, and inside of me are two wolves: The first is saying: Immaculate, artistry of the highest form. We finally get Alastor’s own confrontation with his vulnerability and him trying to figure out what exactly the relationship with Vox means to him. Cannot wait for how this all is going to develop. The other part of me: THE BREADCRUMBS WORKED THE MUSE IS WRITING!!! Followed by this image (since tumblr won’t let me attach it while being anonymous) https://i.redd.it/hx2shk642vs71.jpg -🕊️

LMAO THAT PIC. Amazing, flawless, thank you. The breadcrumbs DEFINITELY worked, please keep feeding. Digging into Alastor's shit is bringing me life and I'm happy to share it, hahaha. We're swinging even harder on the introspection in the next one!

As a sucker for medical gore and aroace angst, I lack the words to express my love and appreciation for your most recent installment of 666, but your writing of radiostatic's dynamic was captivating and proved to be such a lovely read as always! I loved that you touched on Alastor's relationships with the women around him as that has always been such an interesting aspect of his character to me! I never really put much thought into how Vox's apparent avoidance of Alastor in the show could mirror Alastor's disappearance, and now it will Not leave my mind. My heart hurts for these two dorks, super looking forward to chapter 2!

"Medical gore and aroace angst" should be the title of my memoir. Honestly, this series has ended up a lot more edgy-bloody than I expected it to, since I usually tend to prefer to portray my whump/angst/violence/etc in a much more roundabout way, but it's actually kinda tipped over into, like... part of the point is how banal it is, how beside the point. The upsetting heavy-hitting bits aren't the blood, they're everything else that goes on around it. Anyway, thank you so much! <3 I think your heart will find some relief in chapter two, haha, I hope you enjoy!!

Meanwhile alastor, completely convinced that there’s no situation where vox actually loves him and is happy with the way things are—either vox wants more and is going to start asking for more, or he doesn’t actually love him and just wants to have sex with him and thus either way he is a Liar. They’re so fucking bad at this. No one is capable of being the adult here. I think they need an auspitice.

It's really funny that you said that, because that is kind of exactly the role that [spoiler] ends up playing, though in a more roundabout way, hahaha. They certainly need someone to, like, get them to be having the same conversation with each other instead of two parallel ones. I think the fun thing about writing Alastor reacting to his own feelings is just how much his reaction can change based on how things are framed for him, and it leaves a lot of wiggle room for how differently I've ended up writing him reacting to the season 1 finale in 666 vs in Happily Ever After, and Other Shit Nepotism Can't Buy.

But, god, you really nailed the description of what Alastor is feeling. <3

Vox in the latest 666, my ENTIRE HEART. Literally nothing about how he read the situation was a bad take or a leap to conclusions, but alastor constantly says the opposite of what he means and refuses to admit vulnerability or friendship and what the hell else was vox meant to do with that, of course he backed off, they need to have this talk so badly

YES, PRECISELY! Like, I hope it came through that really neither of them was completely crazy to react the way they did! It's a result of how much of their communication has been nonverbal, implied, and talking around things - they'd been doing so well up until this point, but there's only so far that can take you before you start thinking that you're on the same page when really you're reading two completely different books! Thank you sm! <3

‘But I am capable,” Alastor says gently. “I love you very much.” Vox gapes up at him. “...I. Fuck you.” His voice is tight, strained. “I don’t fucking believe you.” Alastor feels his smile thin. “Well. That’s just dandy, then, isn’t it?”’ I AM NOT OK GOING FUCKING FERAL

Probably one of my favorite lines to write, ehehehe. THANK YOU ANONNNN <3 It's kinda interesting to see how differently some people read this. Some folks thought Alastor was saying it to hurt Vox (which is how Vox read it). Some folks thought it was true (how Alastor intended it). Some folks thought Alastor was trying to fit into the mold that he thought Vox wanted from him (how I intended it). All of them make sense as readings! >:)

[princeblack]

Regulus knew he’d made a mistake joining the Death Eaters when blood supremacy had almost killed Bee Skywalker in second year, petrifying her. It was something he would never forget; the sight of her in the hospital wing, the fear etched on her perfect face, frozen that way for presumably the rest of time. 

Eventually he knew they would reverse the petrification once the mandrakes were fully grown, but for many months he stayed at Bee’s bedside, worrying he’d never get the chance to tell her how he feels.

Uncle Lucius bragged about the diary he’d offloaded onto Ginny Weasley; how it was the Dark Lord’s and his will would work itself at Hogwarts through the artifact. Lord Voldemort’s cruelty didn’t end there; he used Kreacher to test defenses of his horcruxes, almost killing him in the process. When Regulus first joined the organization, he knew they would go to war for their own kind. He wasn’t completely naive; he understood lives would be taken. But his own ancestors were almost wiped out during the witch hunts, when wizards had attempted to integrate and survive amongst muggle society.

So, then, it was sound reasoning to him what his family always believed— that muggleborns shouldn’t be brought into the wizarding world. How much danger would that pose to them all? And even further than that, how many muggles could you marry until your magical bloodline was stamped out?

But Regulus was never particularly good at being cruel unless someone deserved it. And Bee Skywalker is the kindest person he’s ever met, only ever deserving kindness back. She didn’t deserve to be ‘cleansed’ along with the muggleborns just because she was walking with one when the basilisk attacked. Lucius would call him weak for faltering; for not having the stomach to stand by his convictions. But Regulus isn’t so sure he cares what Lucius thinks anymore, after watching how cruelly he plotted the demise of so many of his peers.

And then in third year, Sirius escaped Azkaban. He arrived at Hogwarts, looking for Peter Pettigrew, the man who had framed him for the murders. Harry Potter, of all people, had defended him, convincing Dumbledore to demand a trial with the use of Veritaserum. The difference, this time, was that they also had Peter Pettigrew, who finally confessed to the murders and set Sirius free.

Reconnecting with his brother was strange but welcome, especially after learning that Sirius was innocent and never on the Dark Lord’s side. He’d had his suspicions, especially since the other Death Eaters were hush about it, never wanting to speak of what Sirius had ‘done’.

With Sirius’s help, Regulus had finished the fake horcrux– something he’d been working on since Kreacher almost died defending the real one. Sirius expected Regulus to let him help, but instead he had bided his time, never telling his brother when he finally stole away to go steal the Dark Lord’s horcrux. After all, it was his fate to face. It was his price to pay, for everything he’d done. Only he could be Voldemort’s undoing by taking and destroying that piece of his soul. Only Kreacher accompanied him, to take the real locket and apparate away.

It was only because of Bee that he survived, being pulled out of the water. It was then that they discovered her ancient magic, a force so powerful it was able to destroy the inferi and save them both so they could escape.

It wasn’t until this year, year four, that Regulus turned in the real horcrux to Dumbledore in exchange for a pardon, offering all knowledge he had of the Dark Lord’s activities. They then performed the fidelius charm once more, hiding Sirius’s new home with Remus Lupin as the designated secret-keeper. Regulus decided then that he wouldn’t return home ever again, instead vowing to move in with Sirius once the school year was up once more. Being at the school or under Sirius’s care were his only options to avoid repercussions for leaving his post as a Death Eater. He’s sure his parents wouldn’t protect him, if faced with questions from Death Eaters.

But even after all of this preparation, Regulus isn’t sure he’ll survive the year. Because to top it off, his name was drawn in the Goblet of Fire. There were only supposed to be three names expelled from the goblet; one for Hogwarts, one for Durmstrang Institute and one for Beauxbatons Academy. Instead, two other names that weren’t submitted had emerged; Harry’s and Regulus’s. There had been uproar at first; many outraged, especially the teachers and students from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. After all, with three champions, Hogwarts was mostly likely to win and it didn’t help that it was their school hosting the event. It looked every bit like cheating.

But Regulus knows better. His dark mark burns more frequently every week and he’s aware the Dark Lord is gaining power; he’s likely to enact his ritual to regain a body soon, although Regulus wasn’t given the details of what that ritual would entail. He wonders distantly if it’s possible the Triwizard Tournament is somehow apart of his plans.

He hopes more than anything that he’s wrong, not just because he’s left the Death Eaters but because he wants to tell Bee how he truly feels without worrying for her safety. The first task is looming ahead and not long after it is the Yule ball; students all over the school are already talking about who they’ll take. It almost feels trivial to Regulus, who is already steeped in a war that most students his age know nothing about. 

But he also can’t imagine Bee going with someone else and just the thought makes his stomach churn. She probably has no idea he cares about such a thing, because it’s not like he’s been honest with her. She found out his dark secret about being a death eater when she saw his arm, coincidentally on the same night he helped her with a werewolf transformation. They traded one secret for another, both outcasts at Hogwarts for very different reasons. In a sense, he’s lucky he shared his secrets about the cave and the horcrux, because how would she have known where to go when she caught him sneaking out? He would be dead without her.

But even still, after everything he’s done, how could she possibly like him the same way he likes her? Especially after being petrified in their second year; he doesn’t expect her to ever forgive him for the part he’s played in it all.

But they’re still friends somehow, and she hasn’t told anyone his secret. No one knows besides Bee, Sirius and Dumbledore. He’s not even sure that Sirius has mentioned it to Harry yet, who is also coming to live with them, being officially adopted by his god-father.

Regulus has a lot to say to her and for once it feels as if he’s incapable of stringing the words together. He’s been taught eloquence all of his life, charming teachers and important wizards, but he’s a little afraid of the most beautiful girl at the school. What if she didn’t feel the same way? What if she saw him as a friend, or worse, held some resentment for how things have gone? Not that Bee has a resentful bone in her body.

He decides to write a note in a feeble attempt to organize his thoughts, but he only manages to scribble a few words:

Dear Bee,

I don’t know if you’ve noticed it, but it’s difficult for me to breathe whenever you’re near. Truthfully, I don’t know how to ask this after so long of being careful not to hurt you, so I’m just going to say it.

Please go with me to the ball. I know I’m being selfish by asking, especially after everything I’ve put you through. You deserve someone kinder — more like you. But you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever known and I can’t keep up this pretense anymore.

Yours,

R.A.B.

He takes the parchment with him after classes are over, carrying it in his things when they meet in the Potions dungeon for personal tutoring. Professor Snape is gone, leaving the classroom dark, cool and empty. The dark-bricked castle walls are lined with glass jars of pickled animals, something he knows Bee had never liked. They feel even more eerie in a quiet, near-empty classroom. He feels guilty for having left her alone in here, waiting on him to arrive. But she’s as kind and forgiving as she always is— maybe more than Regulus would ever deserve from her.

When they get started on brewing the Calming Draught, he gathers the ingredients from the supply cupboard; some lavender, a crocodile heart and peppermint. When he returns to Bee’s cauldron he sits down, laying out the herbs. The crocodile heart is conserved in a charmed bottle to keep it at the right temperature, and rather than removing it, Regulus tilts it out and into her cauldron. “Luckily, the heart doesn’t have to be cut or smashed in any particular way. It’s enough to just place it inside.” He glances at the Hufflepuff sideways, a little worried for her. He knows how soft and sweet she is; using animal parts isn’t in her nature. And then, realizing her thoughts, he adds, “You don’t have to worry about them harvesting the hearts unethically, if it’s any consolation. These are used for calming draughts, so the crocodiles had to die peacefully in order for their hearts to be of any use in the potion.” It’s something he knows only because he cared enough to research it. In that way, maybe he and Bee are more alike than he thinks. His mother would hate the thought, but for Regulus it gives him a little bit of comfort. But then he remembers what he’s done and sobers again, starting to get to work on chopping the peppermint. He uses Bee’s dagger to do so, slender fingers wrapped around the black handle.

The youngest Skywalker had requested tutoring on her potion making technique, wanting to score better grades on tests. Regulus was happy to comply because he enjoyed helping her as much as he loved spending time with her.

He tries to focus on how he can help– he knows how nervous she gets when working around Professor Snape, too. “Try to have a firm grip on the dagger when you’re cutting. You want to chop the herbs as finely as possible so they’re easier to combine with the rest of the potion.” Pushing the lavender towards her on the table, he hands her the dagger. “Go ahead and chop these for me.”

He wonders, silently to himself, if he’ll gather the courage to hand her the note. Maybe when they’re done and leaving the Potions dungeon, he would summon the courage. Or maybe it should be burned to save Bee from the fate of dating someone such as him. / @devcted

[wrathfulrook]

Holy Mary, Mother of God

Summary: As Staci suffers under Jacob and the cult, he turns back to his religion. Every day he prays to the Holy Mother, both to beg her help and to remind himself that he is not a Peggie.

Rating: M

Word Count: ~1.2k

Read it on ao3.

Staci hadn’t been to Mass in years, since he had moved out of his parents’ house. He hadn’t been to confession in even longer, not since he was confirmed. He didn’t remember the last time he prayed. Not that he didn’t believe. He did. He had Faith. He just wasn’t very observant.

Maybe this was his punishment.

While going through his trials, mindlessly killing and fighting for his life, he considered that he had died in the helicopter crash and had gone to hell. It made sense. Spending his time alert starved and thirsty in a cage under the hot sun, his time in the trials a thoughtless red haze of blood and death.

He’d prayed for the first time in a long time. Initially to God, but then to St. Sebastian. In middle school, Staci had chosen Sebastian as his confirmation saint for no other reason than that he was the patron saint of athletes and that he had survived the first attempt on his life. Staci just thought he was cool. Though, once he heard the name “Staci Sebastian” spoken aloud for the first time in front of the entire parish, he felt it was significantly less cool. And he never gave too much thought to his confirmation saint afterwards.

But throughout his trials he prayed to the saint for strength. If St. Sebastian could survive being tied to a tree and used for target practice, he could survive this ordeal. He could be strong. And so he was.

After the trials, the physical torture stopped, but Staci didn’t feel any relief. Any one slip-up, a single display of weakness, and he would be reclassified as meat. And he was under far more scrutiny than the average resident of the vet center. Jacob kept him close, made him his personal assistant. He was always there, always watching. Staci was supposed to be strong but submissive, a fine line to walk.

He didn’t pray to St. Sebastian too much after his trials. He didn’t pray to God much either. The Peggies prayed to the same God, and something about that didn’t sit right with Staci. Instead, he prayed to Mary. The Peggies didn’t care about St. Mary. Protestants never did. So Staci directed his prayers to the holy mother of God.

He started every morning with a silent Hail Mary and a request that she protect him, that she look after him. His thoughts turned to the sinless, virgin mother every time Jacob knocked him around, every time he suffered. And he suffered a lot as Jacob’s assistant. And he witnessed even more suffering. Every time he passed the cages, every time he witnessed bodies carried out of their trials, tied to posts for target practice, or fed to the wolves, he asked Mary to watch out for them, to ensure their suffering was taken into account, weighed against their time to be spent in Purgatory.

And every night, to help himself fall asleep despite the sounds of screams and howls of wolves he never got used to, he prayed the Rosary, keeping count on his fingers since he didn’t have the beads. And it always worked; he fell soundly asleep long before he reached final Mystery. But more than that, it brought him comfort. He didn’t remember every Mystery. He couldn’t recite the Apostle’s Creed. But he did as much as he could, and he tried. And it was something the Peggies never did. Not even Joseph, their beloved “Father,” prayed the Rosary, despite wearing the beads as some sort of blasphemous accessory.

No. Staci wasn’t like them and they weren’t like him. He was Catholic. His Faith had clear rules and doctrine and hierarchy. Something so horrible as the Project at Eden’s Gate could never happen in the Catholic Church. A priest goes as bonkers as Joseph? The bishop steps in. And the parish would never let their priest turn out like Joseph, because deviations from the Catechism wouldn’t be tolerated. It was all so clear. Every question had a clear, prescribed answer. And if you followed the hierarchy to the top, the Pope spoke directly with the Holy Spirit. He wasn’t a mad man claiming divine knowledge. He was official, appointed, and bound within the limits of the role.

You simply couldn’t make a crazy Catholic cult. Every cult he’d ever heard of was made up of Protestants. Staci never like Protestantism for that very reason. It was all so fluid and subjective. It never seemed like any two churches, even of the same denomination, were on the same page. That’s how people like Joseph happened. That’s how Staci ended up in this position.

They could do a whole lot to him. But they could never make him a Peggie. Not really, not in his heart.

He wished he was stronger. Maybe Jacob was right. Maybe he was weak. He wanted to be strong enough, brave enough, to pray the Rosary out loud. He wanted to tell Jacob no when he dragged him along to services. He wanted to stand up for his own beliefs and stay strong and unwavering as he was literally thrown to the wolves. He wished he had the balls to stand up and die a martyr.

But that’s where he and his confirmation saint differed. Staci could never stay strong when staring down the barrel of a gun. He couldn’t resist the conditioning Jacob subjected him to. And he couldn’t make himself assert his true beliefs, not when he’s seen what happens to the people who don’t even do anything to make the Herald angry. He was weak.

So, he prayed for forgiveness. He prayed for strength. He asked Mary to intervene on his behalf, to ask her Son to show him mercy, to help him in some way, any way.

No help ever came.

And maybe he was dead after all? Not in Hell, like he’d initially thought. Maybe this was Purgatory. He suffered so much that it had to be for a reason. Maybe this was the suffering he must endure to cleanse his soul, to finally be worthy of Heaven. If this was Purgatory, it was working. He was becoming a better person. He was less of an asshole, just quiet and empathetic. He prayed multiple times a day. Wasn’t Purgatory supposed to bring you closer to God? Staci had never been more religious than now. Maybe because he was dead.

He hoped so. He hoped this was Purgatory so that when it was finally over, when he’d finally atoned for all his sins in life, he could go to Heaven. Never to suffer again. He hoped this was Purgatory so that it wasn’t really happening to others. So that there were no people in cages back in Hope County, that no one was being fed alive to wolves. He hoped that this was all being done for his benefit, to make his soul pure again, to ready him for eternal life in Heaven.

But he couldn’t be sure. So, just in case, he prayed.

[simpingforsimjake]

The Guilty Defence - Chapter Five

“We will take a short 25-minute break.” the judge said before standing up and leaves the courtroom. 

Jake sighs, feeling the tension heavy in the air before standing up and leaves to the bathroom, mumbling words to himself about the trial. 

“I was told that I would get money...he would definitely pay me.” 

“He?...Could you tell us who it is?”  

The statements playing over and over repeated as if it was a broken radio echoing in his mind before slamming his hand onto the sink in frustration. 

“Fuck it, its Johnny...he needs to confess.” he mumbles before splashing some water onto his face and sighs before drying his face and leaves the bathroom.  

“Jake?” Y/N calls out to him before going over to him with a takeaway cup of coffee.  

He turns around to see her come over with the coffee and smiles. 

“Ah, Y/N...we need to discuss the trial. Let’s go sit down somewhere. Oh, and thanks for the coffee.” he said before playfully snatching it off of her hands and walks off while sipping on the coffee.  

“W-what? Sure...what did you want to discuss about?” she said starstruck from the sudden gesture before following behind him and then goes over to sit on one of the chairs at the cafeteria.  

“It’s about the witness, we got Mr Kim’s son. Would that be enough to prove whether Mr Kim is innocent?” 

“’Innocent’? How can you be so sure Jake? All the evidence points to him as the convict.” she said while tapping her pen on the table.  

“Well, I think the CCTV footage has been tampered with...” Jake replied while inserting his hand into his blazer pocket before sliding over to her a USB stick. “And it’s clear that Johnny Martinez is actually responsible for the murder of Park Daeseong. Isn’t that what Jay told you?”  

“Johnny- where did you get this from?” she asked shocked before plugging it into her laptop and watches the CCTV video.  

“I just found it in a letter from the post this morning. I think its crucial evidence. Plus, Johnny is going to testify and confess.” 

“He is? But he’s not on the witness list.” 

“That is why I’m going to request him to the judge.” 

_________________________________________________________________________________________ 

"Attorney Sim, you may start to cross-examine the defendant.”  

Jake stands up before grabbing his documents and walks over to the middle of the courtroom. 

“Yes, your honour.” he replies before turning over to the defendant.  

“Kim Seongkyu, previously you mentioned that you did the hit-and-run in order to get money, why couldn’t you just get a loan instead?” 

Mr Kim sighs before replying, 

“I already took out so many loans from the bank, but...b-but..” he starts to stutter. 

“But what?” 

“B-but the money I was going to get paid sounded more tempting...I had no choice, I heard that if I didn’t pay my debt back I would get evicted.” Seongkyu insisted before picking up his cup to drink some water. 

“You had no choice? Did you have a grudge against Mr Park Daeseong? Is that why you killed him on the way to drop your son off at college?” Jake retorted before turning to look at the judge. 

“Your honour, I would like to bring in Mr Kim’s son, Kim Woohyun as a witness that would clarify his innocence.” 

_________________________________________________________________________________________ 

“Attorney Sim, please question the witness.” the judge asked before drinking some water. 

Jake stood up before looking at the judge. 

“Yes your honour,” he said while walking over to the defendant. 

“Mr Kim, according to your text messages between you and your father, it is claimed that you had to leave the house earlier than usual because of a meeting with your professor regarding your assignment queries?” Jake asked before turning to the screen with a screenshot of their text messages.. 

“Yes, it was important so I had to leave early.” he responded.  

“Did you not notice anything that might be weird or something about his behaviour the day before?” 

Woohyun shakes his head.  

“No, sir.” 

He then changes it to the CCTV footage and then looks at the judge. 

“Your honour,” 

Jake quickly goes back to his desk before picking up the USB. 

"I would like to hand this in as evidence that Mr Kim Seongkyu is not the convict for the hit-and-run, but instead, Mr Johnny Martinez, which I would like to also request as a witness.”  

_________________________________________________________________________________________  

Johnny sat down in the seat and sighs before smirking at Jake.  

“Johnny Martinez, according to the new evidence we have found, you were the one who committed the hit-and-run offence?” 

Y/N just watched silently, anxiety filling up her lungs as she waited for his reply.  

“Yes, yes I did.” 

“And why did you do that? Did you have have any connections with Mr Park Daeseong?” he retorted, turning on the new evidence on the screen.  

Johnny just chuckled while watching the video, 

“Attorney Sim, you have already seen all the evidence. Why do you have to question me?” 

“Be quiet, Mr Martinez.” the judge commanded before turning back to the CCTV footage and then back at him. 

“So, you claim to be guilty?” he asked. 

“Yes, your honour.” Johnny replied calmly. 

Jake then switched the slide to the photos of Seongkyu receiving a stack of money. 

“So, you were also the one who stole money from the bank in order to give it to Mr Kim Seongkyu?” 

“Yes.” 

“No more questions.”  

_________________________________________________________________________________________ 

“According to the evidence and witness statements, I hereby claim Mr Kim Seongkyu innocent as of today, 17th March 2021, 4:05pm, and until further notice, Mr Johnny Martinez will be put on remand until further evidence is claimed.”  

Y/N sighs tiredly while walking out of the courtroom. 

“That was intense...you did a good job Mr Sim~” she said before hearing her phone ring and sees that it was Gyuvin calling.  

“Oh, I’ll pick this up, give me a moment.” Y/N mumbled before walking off.  

“It’s been a while, Jaeyun” a voice echoed across the corridor. 

Confused as to who’s calling him a completely different name, turns around to be met by a reporter. 

“Kang-in Taek, long time no see.” 

_______________________

[tdvotes]

Ranking the Votes, s1b

Welcome back to... Total! Drama! Ranking... the Votes! Today we will be taking a look at the eliminations of season 1b (post-merge Island) to see how easy they were to follow. Since only 9 episodes had a vote this time (including the finale), 9 will be the most straightforward elimination and 1 will be the most confusing.

First, the notes section. Lindsay, DJ and Heather were technically not voted off, so they are not on this list. The losing finalist was technically not voted off either, but the eliminated campers did get to pick who to root for, so that episode IS on the list. Leshawna was technically voted off by the eliminated campers. Mr. Coconut was not voted off, but he was eliminated and there was definitely a vote that episode. And Gwen won invincibility in the animal trapping challenge but was also in the bottom two for some reason.

The eliminations are as follows:

No Pain, No Game (Eva)

Search and Do Not Destroy (Trent)

Hide and Be Sneaky (Bridgette)

Wawanakwa Gone Wild! (Izzy)

Trial by Tri-Armed Triathlon (Geoff)

Haute Camp-Ture / After the Dock of Shame (Leshawna)

Camp Castaways (Mr. Coconut)

Are We There Yeti? (Duncan)

The Very Last Episode, Really! (Gwen or Owen)

9. Haute Camp-Ture (After the Dock of Shame). (Haute Camp-Ture was the name for a rejected episode that would have featured a fashion challenge. The title was changed by Cartoon Network in the US to After the Dock of Shame, but in Canada it remained the same because the editors forgot to correct it.) This one was pretty straightforward. Chris tallied 9 votes for Leshawna even though Lindsay and the parrot voted twice and 11 people didn’t vote. But this series does not rank based on how easy it was to guess why the vote went the way it did, but instead on how easy it was to figure out who voted for who and why. 9 votes for Leshawna

8. No Pain, No Game. Heather, Gwen, Bridgette, DJ, Geoff and Lindsay voted for Eva. Eva and Duncan voted for Heather. We didn’t see who Leshawna, Izzy, Owen and Trent voted for, but I imagine they all voted for Eva. Although it was suggested on the original post that what Chris meant here was that Eva lost by 6 votes, I still maintain that it's 10 votes for Eva, 2 for Heather

7. Search and Do Not Destroy. This one was pretty simple. Gwen told Leshawna what Heather did to Trent, and Leshawna told everyone else except Lindsay. But Gwen said she didn't vote for Trent, so we can't be sure how she voted. We do know that Leshawna, Owen, Duncan, Geoff, DJ, Bridgette and Izzy voted for Trent. I also think Heather (and by extension Lindsay) voted for Trent. Now we could assign Gwen and Trent's votes to anyone and it wouldn't make a bit of difference. I'll give Trent's vote to Lindsay because she helped Heather, and I'll say Gwen cast a random vote for Owen since he was the last to receive a marshmallow. 9 votes for Trent, 1 for Lindsay, 1 for Owen

6. Camp Castaways. We don’t see the vote on this one, although we do know one happened. I initially didn't think anyone would have voted Owen because he bonked the python on the head and kinda acted as the team leader. But at the same time he did make them all wait in the cabin and confess their biggest sins to each other, so... I'm gonna say that in an episode where the final four spent more time bonding with each other than turning against each other, everybody voted for Owen for failing to knock out the python earlier. And who knows who Owen voted for. Maybe Duncan for shooting Mr. Coconut. 1 vote for Mr. Coconut, 3 for Owen, 1 for Duncan

5. Are We There Yeti? Since Heather and Gwen both won invincibility, they had to vote off either Owen or Duncan together. Or maybe, as the wiki implies, Chef chose to eliminate Duncan for whatever reason. He had reason to pick both of them -- Chef and Duncan had had a spat during his boot camp challenge, and Owen had just eaten his sticky buns. I'm going with the explanation that Gwen and Heather decided to vote out Duncan because he was a bigger threat than Owen. I would have put this one higher, but we are not sure whether Gwen and Heather agreed to kick Duncan off or Chef just decided to eliminate him. 3 votes for Duncan, 1 for Owen

4. The Very Last Episode, Really! While we do know exactly who was rooting for who, we don't know everyone's reasons for picking who they did.

Some people just picked whoever they were closer friends (or in Heather's case, not enemies) with: Noah, Izzy, Cody, Trent, Leshawna, Duncan, and Heather. Some people just wanted a party: Justin, Katie, Sadie, Tyler, DJ and Geoff. Zeke was easy because you can tell the writers thought he was misogynistic, even though his comments in the first episode were generally true and he was just trying to be a gentleman (a trait consistent with the Zeke we saw in TDDDDI).

But others' motivations were harder to place: Eva, Beth, Courtney, Harold, Bridgette, Lindsay. Eva seems to not be the party type, so makes sense she would root against the party guy. Beth seemed to like Owen more. Courtney seemed to have more... contempt, I guess? for Gwen. Harold was generally disliked by his male Bass teammates, and probably saw Owen as the more fun option. Bridgette initially chose Gwen, probably because she was closer friends with her, but then chose Owen after he announced his party, possibly because she wanted to party with Geoff. And Lindsay? Her case was the most interesting to me. She probably initially chose Gwen to stick it to Heather, and stayed after Owen announced his party because she still hated Heather more than she wanted to party with her. Why did she choose Owen after he announced his party would be on a yacht? She probably thought it was just too good an offer to pass up. But she definitely looked unhappy about it because that meant she was joining Heather's team. 10 Owen supporters (15 after he announced his party, 16 after he announced his yacht party), 10 Gwen supporters (5 after Owen announced his party, 4 after he announced his yacht party)

3. Hide and Be Sneaky. This one was basically another case like Not Quite Famous: we know how most people voted, but if the vote went how we thought it should, it should be a tie. So we can only conclude that one person (in this case, Geoff) did not vote the way we think he did. If the pre-vote conversations are to be believed, we know Duncan, Owen and DJ all voted for Bridgette, we know Gwen, Leshawna and Bridgette all voted for Duncan, and we know Heather, Lindsay and Izzy all voted for Owen. But Geoff is the wild card. Really the only way I can think of that Bridgette gets voted off is if Geoff lied when he said he didn't vote for her. So I guess I have to go with 4 votes for Bridgette, 3 for Duncan, 3 for Owen

2. Wawanakwa Gone Wild! For this one I'm just going to copy and paste my original post.

Obviously Gwen should have had invincibility, so no one should have voted for her. So why was she in the bottom two? It felt like the writers just forgot that she won the challenge when they wrote this elimination ceremony. But let's go off the assumption that there was no way to win invincibility in this challenge.

Now: The only vote we know for certain is that Heather voted for Izzy because she shot her, and because she made comments like "Not until psycho hose beast goes down" and "just give it to Gwen already." Duncan could have followed suit as he was in an alliance with Heather, or he could have voted for Gwen out of jealousy that she beat him. It's not unlikely that Gwen and/or Leshawna voted Heather because of their rivalry, or they could have voted Izzy because they noticed her carelessness with the tranquilizer gun. As per Geoff's confessional at the beginning, I think he probably voted for Gwen or Duncan. Owen likely voted for Heather or Gwen. Izzy probably avoided voting Heather because, as the second-to-last place player, she would have to clean the washrooms if Heather was unavailable. I'm thinking she either voted Gwen out of jealousy or Owen, since she was giving him the silent treatment earlier because he pushed her into the killer in the previous episode. 3 votes for Izzy, 2 for Heather, 1 for Gwen, 1 for Owen

1. Trial by Tri-Armed Triathlon. Leshawna said in the confessional that, "I knew if it came down to a popularity contest, I was gonna lose big time. I had to vote off Heather." First of all, in the popularity contest in the VERY NEXT EPISODE, you did lose big time... by winning big time. And second, if you want to win a popularity contest, the last thing you want to do is vote off the least popular person on the island. So clearly she was very wrong on that. However, as I was writing this post, I realized what she probably meant: since she believed she couldn't win a popularity contest at the current time, she decided to vote off her worst enemy because she was just sick of dealing with her. Or maybe because voting off Heather would make her more popular. So I'll say Leshawna did vote for Heather. We also know for sure that Duncan, Owen and Heather voted off Geoff because they didn't think they could beat him in a popularity contest. That makes it Geoff 3, Heather 1 and leaves Geoff and Gwen.

If Geoff and Gwen received the most and second-most votes respectively, that means Gwen would have to receive both of their votes. But obviously, neither of them would vote for Gwen. So my thought here is that Chris just picked Gwen to receive the final marshmallow for dramatic effect -- I mean, he did give the marshmallows to each pair together. So who did Geoff and Gwen vote for? Gwen might have voted for Heather because, up until this episode, she was creasing her the most. Or she might have voted Owen, because Geoff had apparently been creasing her the most because of his party attitude, and Owen was the next biggest party person. And Geoff might have voted for Duncan because, aside from Gwen, he had singled him out as the biggest downer left in the game. Tough call, but I'm going with 3 votes for Geoff, 2 for Heather, 1 for Duncan

But what do you think? Which elimination ceremony was the easiest to figure out and which was the hardest in your mind? As always, leave your thoughts in the comments below.

So, see you next time, back on Total... Drama... Counting... the Votes!

[thymehaspassed]

Im not caught up on the thyme lore what happened in june??? (Also, from what i do know, you have every reason to be mad)

Oh boy this is a long story and a wild ride so I’ll put it under a cut

I’ll be leaving out names (though you could probably find them or if you know enough guess who the people are)

If you’re a person involved and somehow come across this. Hello. This is my take on the situation

All that’s here is just backstory for what happened. Past relationship things and I’ll put the actual. Thing in a reblog

Mkay. So this started back in October of last year when I started dating my ex.

We met in a mutual Layton server (they got. Kicked but it wasn’t particularly a negative thing) and kept contact. They confessed their feelings for me after something happened but expressed that they weren’t certain of their feelings. I agreed to try something out with them and it spiraled from there. I guess we never technically said we started dating (I was anticipating a trial period but they kinda just hopped into it)

For the record, I knew their mental health wasn’t the best. It never really was, but it only seemed to get worse over the months.

Fun fact about me is that I tend to mirror the people around me, to a kinda unhealthy point sometimes. So them being ill meant that I was ill and we got into this sort of unhealthy codependent thing. But I was really set on staying with them (to the extent that I was contemplating moving countries when I got old enough. Was planning on lying to my parents and everything. For a person I called with once and had three pictures of total.)

I’m easily attached. It’s just a thing

Anyways, they started interacting with someone in the community because he drew a certain character that they liked a lot.

There were a lot of signs that things were going badly. And I mean a lot of red flags that I simply ignored.

They were pretty notable within the fandom for their writing in art (as in. If you looked up certain characters their art comes up a few times.)

I’m only sharing this because it’s important later, but something happened in November (?). We had a system that when we noticed that each other rbed from someone on the no no list we’d message each other and then block that account. It happened more than once, and they were at least a little notorious for it. Then one day I let them know that they did it. And their answer changed. Their memory was pretty bad and keeping track of everything was hard for them, so they were just saying fuck it.

To support them I did the same, and said I didn’t care. That I loved them and supported them so I didn’t care either. Went down my block list and unblocked everyone (which started the chain of me being unable to block anyone ever again for forever.)

I’m horrible at standing up for myself and setting firm boundaries. I’m well aware that I’m a little doormat. And as expected, they pushed and I set my boundaries back further and further for them. It really was fine on my end, not nearly as bad as it could’ve been.

Mid January they moved on from PL and we started drifting a bit. They still interacted with my content when I sent it, but they moved onto other fandoms (one of which I got into in hopes that they’d talk to me more.)

Then in early February I got a message from someone I looked up to. I’m still rather afraid of him, if I’m honest. A while before that I made a comment that upset him and it made me nervous that he hated me. He messaged me about my partner, that the things they were doing weren’t acceptable and that the route they were on was a slippery slope. I knew that he had bad experiences before, and his points made sense. But they were rather fragile, and I naively thought that it wasn’t that bad.

Around that time (since December, actually) I was kind of tentatively getting closer to the kid me and my partner were mutuals with, and they were venting posting rather frequently. I’d reach out if it was particularly bad, and he’d send me vent art when he made it.

Eventually I asked him what kind of response he wanted when he sent me art (because I wasn’t sure what tone he was looking for). And he told me that he was still nervous about talking with me.

Then we talked more, and he showed me his conversations with my partner.

It was so much worse than I thought it was. The person that told me didn’t nearly do it justice. I freaked out and messaged my partner, and spent the next few hours panic messaging my friend and the person that told me. He apologized for not saying it all.

I understand why he didn’t. It wasn’t his place to tell. And it’s not my place to say it here either.

The next morning I broke things off with them, and it ended pretty messily. I regurgitated what the other person said, and they got upset. I remained relatively calm, but looking back I understand why they thought I was attacking them. I was hurt.

It was kind of stupid that I was upset that they weren’t just hurting me. Fucked up kinda I’m not good enough

But it all spiraled back to the block list thing. While I told them that I supported them, I requested that they not talk about those kinds of things with me. I thought that just because we were talking on similar subjects, they weren’t that far in. But at the time they were leaving the fandom, they just moved onto messaging the kid about the things they thought would make me uncomfortable to talk about.

And I was upset, because I knew that I would’ve been fine with it. My boundaries were already crossed so many times that I knew I would’ve done the same thing.

They blocked me on tumblr, and I told them I was taking a break. I never came back.

That’s the backstory to it. That’s background knowledge.

If you read this far, hi! Welcome to Valerie’s most recent fucked up relationship.

[lulu2992]

Based on your last post how do you think the cult would have turned out and what do you think would be different if the seeds had the chance to heal from their trauma?

So, let’s imagine this is a perfect world in which they’ve managed to completely heal and put their traumatic pasts behind them. Let’s also consider the Voice is still real and asked Joseph to save at least 3,000 souls from the Collapse because I want to keep the prophetic and supernatural aspect of the story (and also justify the cult’s existence). But, since the Seeds finally have a chance to get better in this AU, let’s also say the Voice didn’t ask them to do anything violent; I don’t want it to ruin everything!

I’m going to start with Faith because… would she even be in the Project? If she had had access to professional help, she could have overcome her drug addiction and regained a taste for life without joining a cult. Maybe she wouldn’t even have come to Hope County to “detox”, as some NPCs say. I also imagine she would still be best friends with Tracey, who would have healed too. It’s a bit unclear which Faith created the Bliss and the Angels but, in this scenario, I don’t think the cult would need them anyway because they wouldn’t brainwash or torture anyone.

While I can see Jacob still training people in case they need to survive in harsh conditions or defend themselves, he wouldn’t “cull the herd” or experiment on living creatures anymore. No more sacrifices, no more conditioning, no more trials, no more brainwashing, no more Judges; just a group of people getting ready for the apocalypse. I guess he could still teach them how to use weapons because it seems everyone owns and shoots guns in Hope County anyway, at least for hunting. I think the Whitetail Militia existed before Eden’s Gate arrived (but was a bit different), so I guess it wouldn’t be considered abnormal for cultists to have a small army too; its members just wouldn’t terrorize the rest of the county. Actually, since we know Eli helped Jacob design and build bunkers, maybe they would still be “friends” and the Whitetails would be part of the cult.

John could still be The Baptist, people could still need to be Cleansed before joining the Project, and maybe he would hear their Confessions too, but because he wouldn’t have such an unhealthy relationship with sin and pain anymore, he wouldn’t make others suffer, psychologically and physically. No more tattoos, no more cutting people’s skin out, and maybe no more “Power of Yes”, either, since this obsession also came from his adoptive parents’ torture. I hope he also wouldn’t have such a fragile ego and a constant need for validation anymore, so he wouldn’t want to impress Joseph all the time or need his approval to convince himself he’s worth something as a person.

Finally, while Joseph would still hear the Voice in this scenario, he wouldn’t have sacrificed his daughter because “God” wouldn’t have asked him to do it. She would have died in the hospital shortly after her mother’s accident… or she would still be alive, and maybe he would have never created “Faith Seed” for this reason! His family members could still be his Heralds, and the cult would have built bunkers and started stockpiling food and supplies, but they wouldn’t have lost so many potential converts in Jacob’s trials, so they probably would already have enough followers. Because they would also look less “weird” and scary, I suppose more people would have wanted to join them, too. And they would still have John’s money, so they could have used it to buy enough food and supplies instead of brutally stealing everything during the Reaping! Maybe the rules (no alcohol, no drugs, no fornication) would still apply because Eden’s Gate remains a religious group, but I suppose cultists wouldn’t be so aggressively obsessed with “sin”.

Now, I don’t know what the Deputy’s role in the prophecy would be. In this perfect world, they would have no reason to arrest Joseph, so that wouldn’t trigger the Collapse and the Reaping (which, maybe, wouldn’t even be necessary). I suppose they could still join the Project and be saved, though, and so could everyone else in Hope County.

I’m aware this is a very idealized scenario but, if the Voice still existed and the Seeds had totally healed from their traumatic pasts, I think that’s what Eden’s Gate could look like. They would still be preppers and technically a cult, but a surprisingly (and, I suppose, unrealistically) wholesome one.