#by the way i'm almost finishing Lost Galaxy

[one-half-guy]

Who could be crazy enough to rewatch all of the Power Rangers series?! Who can take it?!?

OH right, that's me 😅

Also I'm even considering to watch some sentai too... 🤣

[ivystoryweaver]

Day 24: Danger (Poe Dameron)

Angstember Prompt Post || Word Count: 750

Notes: This is the prompt for day 24 but it's day 26. Still wanted to finish it tho. Fear, mentions of death and dying, hurt/comfort-ish. Poe is afraid he's lost you.

Terror stabbed his thundering heart as dread mounted with every step. The First Order attacked and Commander Poe Dameron raced into action, frantically calling for you over comms.

Fingers trembled as he pulled and yanked his flight suit into place, running full speed as he ordered his droid not to wait for him.

He rounded the corner to the hangar when blistering heat surrounded him as a powerful, concussive force knocked him back.

Although disoriented and partially deafened, Poe struggled to clamber to his feet, but fresh terror reared up within him, choking him as Finn rushed to his side.

Despite his best friend's inquiries, every thought, every emotion - the fear, the war, the whole galaxy narrowed like a laser down to one, most important thing.

You.

"She's in there," Poe croaked, eyes wild and frightened as the realization took hold, weakening every limb.

His bones seemed to liquify as the blast doors closed, sealing you and all your commrades in an inevitable fiery death.

"No," he choked out, crawling forward with his arms, even as Finn tried to pull him back.

Blood frozen in his veins, Poe stretched out his hand, trying to explain. "She's in there. She's trapped in there!"

"It's too late!" Finn jerked him up by his flight vest. "I'm sorry. Come on, it's not safe here."

The fear and the heat and the force of the blast throbbed inside him, suffocating him. He was stricken and lifeless, unable to force his insolent body to respond appropriately to the danger surrounding him.

"Please...she's in there..." He rasped out before everything went black.

Poe floated in an endless dark sky full of stars. Debris drifted all around him and war raged in the distance.

He thought fleetingly, that he must be dead. Either that, or he was blasted out of his X-wing and was now dying in the sky - the death of a warrior. Probably the death he deserved, even craved. A life given in the service of freedom. Like all the rebels and Resistance fighters before him.

Like you.

His gut clenched with anguish at the thought of this war extinguishing your light from the universe. Then a sliver of hope danced through his heart at the thought of somehow seeing you again.

As if he wished himself into your presence, his ears, no longer ringing with the deafening blast's effects, picked up on the sound of your sweet voice.

Calling his name.

'Where are you?' Words he felt deep and limitless in his very soul, as if the most raw, real part of him stretched out to find you, even here.

"Poe."

He felt you then, soft hand on his cheek, leaning so close he could feel your breath ghost his lips.

"I saw your eyes open. I know you can hear me."

Wherever you were, that's where he needed to be. The night sky illuminated itself and dissolved somehow, into a blinding overhead light.

"There you are. Poe? Come back to me, baby, please."

Nothing had ever sounded so compelling, so enchanting. Struggling to open his eyes fully, he clawed his way out of darkened space and into the brightness of your countenance.

"Hey," you tearfully whispered, raking your fingers through his curls as one tear dropped onto his cheek.

"Found you," he murmured, throat parched with thirst.

"Yeah, that's right, you found me," you tenderly encouraged. "Thought I lost you for a bit."

His eyes fluttered closed again, but peacefully, rather than distressed. "At least we're together."

"Of course we're together." You frowned, confused. "Hey, stay with me. Don't go. Don't you dare leave me!"

Forcing his eyes open, he lazily smiled. "You look good."

Gasping out a laugh, you struggled to understand. "I look what? You're crazy."

His eyes darted around him as he eased into full consciousness. "Where are we?"

"Med bay. You almost got incinerated. The blast in the hangar knocked you into a wall. You've got a nasty concussion." Sniffling, you granted him a weak smile. "But you'll live."

Realization seeped into the contours of his handsome face, making his lip tremble and his eyes leak with fresh tears. "You're here? I thought you were - "

"I know, Finn told me," you softly reassured him. "I wasn't in my ship. Not yet."

"You're here," he gasped, relief surging though his frayed nerves and battered body. "You're here."

Gingerly climbing into bed beside him, you pressed your cheek over his beating heart. "That's right. We're here. We're okay."

Angstember Masterlist || Poe Masterlist || Main Masterlist

[thebarontheabyss]

The new version of The Bar on the Abyss 2.0 update is coming soon!

I've finished stocking the Library of Pseudonium with stories, tales, and entries for you to devour, and now I'm moving to overhaul some of the romance scenes in the game.

In the meantime, I thought I'd share one of those entries. See you soon in the Abyss :)

Waiting for You by Albus Gauss

"Did you see the moth, my love?

It was there when we said our goodbyes. I could see you holding back your tears. You had to be strong, I understand. But I wish you hadn’t. I was so weak, and all I wanted was to hold you, to feel your warmth one last time. I longed for your tears to flow freely, to form a river that would carry me away into the unknown, into oblivion.

As you whispered your final words, I saw it in that quiet moment.

A fragile, black-winged creature. It fluttered softly between us, hovering like a silent witness to our parting. It landed on my chest, just above my heart, and in that instant, it whispered something I couldn’t quite hear, or remember. 

The following moments are hard to hold onto—like trying to catch the wind. A blur of sensation and then… seagulls. 

I woke to the sound of the ocean.

An endless beach stretched before me, an ancient town clinging to its shoreline like something plucked from an old memory. Remember our honeymoon in Sanremo? The way the sun seemed to melt into the sea, the scent of salt and warmth in the air? It was just like that, only quieter. Still, Timeless.

The sand beneath me was warm, and the breeze carried not just salt but something else… something eternal, like time itself was holding its breath. The sea shimmered in silver hues, a glow that made it almost alive. I stood up, feeling lighter than I had in years—lighter than I had ever felt in life. The pain that had gripped me for so long was gone, but with it, the weight of myself—of being alive.

It’s strange to explain. You never realize how heavy your existence is until it’s lifted away.

I followed the shoreline, letting my feet sink into the soft sand. And then, near me, I saw it fluttering again—the moth, gently gliding on the warm waves of the sea. And it spoke to me.

So, I’m in a place called Kaitz, an ‘ethereal realm.’ Not Heaven, just… a haven. We talked for a long time, and he told me so much. My mind struggles to comprehend the details, but apparently, this is the afterlife.

I followed him into a small house on the outskirts of the town, overlooking the ocean. It was a simple, quaint place, like something we might’ve stayed in during one of our seaside holidays. The walls were cracked but alive with vines of unfamiliar flowers, their blooms glowing faintly as dusk crept in. There was a feeling of anticipation in the air—like the house had been waiting for me. The moth told me I could stay here if I wanted to. I was so confused, I really should have asked him for how long. Did he mean forever?

I wandered onto the balcony, looking out over the ocean as the sunset bathed everything in gold. The horizon shimmered in a way that I can’t quite describe—like the light was bending, swirling into itself, but never fully disappearing. For a long time, I just stood there on that balcony. This place was beautiful, yet I felt… alone.

The moth—Mavet, it whispered its name—perched beside me on the railing, its wings reflecting the dying light. It didn’t speak again, just hovering for a while until the sun was gone, and so did he.

I couldn’t sleep that night. The stillness was too loud, so I went outside into the town. 

That’s when I heard the music. There was a festival, with fireworks and sky lanterns floating in the skies above us. I’ve never seen clearer skies—whole galaxies stretching and spiraling, and I swear those sky lanterns rising above us were turning into stars as they met the heavens.

The streets were lined with people, all lost in the celebration, their laughter and voices mingling with the music that filled the air. I came here feeling lost and alone, but when I saw the happiness in their eyes and the calmness in their faces… for a brief moment, I also lost myself in that feeling. And it felt so good.

I followed the parade, blending into the river of souls and meeting a group of recently deceased souls like me. They were different from me in every way—one had skin like marble, another glowed faintly as if lit from within—but somehow, we felt acquainted with one another. There was an instant camaraderie, as if we had always known each other, as if we’d met many times before, in some other life. They told me they were from different realms. I had no idea there were other realms besides ours. And yet, here we all were, walking together under a sky that seemed to stretch forever.

We walked through the winding streets, drinking and talking like old friends. They told stories of their lives, and I told them about us. About you.

At some point during the night, as the festival flowed around me, I found myself dancing to rhythm of the celebration. And then it hit me—a wave of emotion that I couldn’t hold back. The freedom of it all. The weightlessness, the sheer absence of pain, of sickness. I cried. Tears of joy. Pure, unfiltered happiness. I hadn’t felt this alive in years, Malcolm. My new friends didn’t say a word, but their hands held mine tighter as if they understood.  

I’m so sorry for being this happy without you, my love. Please forgive me.  

By the time dawn arrived, we found ourselves back on the beach. The festival had faded, and the sky was painted in shades of violet and gold. We sat there, five of us, watching the horizon, waiting for the sun to rise fully. 

When it did, I said goodbye and walked back to the little house on the cliff. The streets were quiet now, the remnants of the festival scattered across the cobblestone roads. It felt strange to be back in that empty house. But for the first time since I passed, I felt the weight of exhaustion settling into my bones.

I fell asleep quickly, and I dreamt of you.

I was lying next to you, in our bed at home. We had just bought that house, remember? We called it our forever home. Funny, isn’t it? How man plans, and the cosmos laughs.

In my dream, I reached over and held your hand, and as I did, I saw your face. You were crying in your sleep, your cheeks soaked with tears. 

I’m glad you finally cried, Malcolm. 

When I woke, I couldn’t shake the feeling of that dream. It felt so real, like I was there with you. But I woke up to an empty bed, and I can imagine you were too. I guess this is our reality from now on. 

My new friends told me about a train that comes through once a day. It drives straight into the ocean, vanishing beneath the waves, and it takes you to other places, other realms. 

They say you can visit all sorts of worlds and find places you never imagined–other afterlives, other paradises. I’m thinking of getting on that train soon, after spending a little more time here.

I want to explore, to see what’s out there. That dream… It gave me a purpose, something to do until we find each other again. I’m going to search for a place for us. A perfect place. A home where we can be together again, after your time has come. 

I will find our forever home.

And until that day comes, Malcolm, I’ll be dreaming of you. 

Here, on the endless shores of Kaitz… or somewhere else, entirely."

[moodymisty]

Author's Note: Inspired by this post. You can blame all of the unhinged horniness there for this unhinged horniness. Someone there put the idea down as space wolves or Luna wolves and I chose Luna wolves because @bispecsual gave me the brain rot. And since I'm a massive masochist, I write.

Relationships: Like five unnamed Luna Wolves/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Vaguely NSFW, Very hornily charged bullying, Astartes are very curious and grabby, Demeaning speech, Just imagine you're that one girl on the couch in the meme surrounded by massive dudes but those dudes are 8 foot tall genetic abominations, Gangbang implications(?) my warning tags are getting weird as fuck

To the Luna Wolves, serfs are a new idea- a curiosity.

But after their good deeds upon a planet of little known renown and placement in the galaxy, a few of their population offered to serve them.

Before them, most serfs were primarily stationed on Terra, and on Luna Wolves ships instead those roles were given to low ranking tech priests, or penal labor. Even then however the Astartes saw them rarely, until now.

Some of the newly conquered planet offered sons as aspirants, of which they eagerly accepted. The Luna Wolves have been eager to grow their numbers now under Horus’ leadership.

Others, older and ablebodied, offered themselves to serve as serfs.

Many Luna Wolves can't remember the last time they've seen a normal human for more than a few moments, ushering them to safely into a Stormbird or pushing them from a firefight. Or seeing their corpse flung on the far reaches of a battlefield, out of sight and mind.

In their brief periods of reprieve from battle, it's now been a struggle for their captains and lieutenants to keep their men on task, now that serfs scurry around them completing various tasks. Particularly for the youngest marines among them, it's been a constant to stop them from reaching towards the serfs, interrupting their sanctioned duties.

They will get to you once finished with your brothers, is what the current quartermaster on duty or Astartes captain says. Though haste to have their armor cleaned or bolter clips loaded isn't the thing on their mind, but instead an almost dog-like curiosity.

But after their superiors leave, they always end up crowding around you again. These astartes have barely seen baseline humans in decades, let alone a woman.

It's suffocating.

You were nothing on your home planet. Insignificant. You’d hoped joining them would bring you purpose, something to be proud of. And to get off the planet that had you feeling so trapped. And while you got your wish, in a way the thing trapping you had merely changed form.

They have you cornered in the armoring room now; Like Wolves. You went from trapped on that no name planet to trapped by five different astartes. Your palms feel hot and sweaty, but not as hot as your face.

“You’re so small, you’re going to get lost on the ship,” One says.

He grabs for your chin and holds it for a moment, forcing you to look into his grey eyes. they're stoic, but you can see he's enjoying something about this. Though he allows you to shrink away and out of his grip, looking downward at their chest armor. Or anywhere else that isn't their faces.

“Or trampled,” Says another. The one who spoke previous gives him a sour look before passively aggressively replying.

“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”

One who hasn't spoken yet has his top armor removed, his lower half unpowered. He was training, using it as dead weight. Training concluded blood now drips down from his nose and lips but is mostly dried, partly covered healing bruises. If he looks like this, you can't help but wonder how his opponent looks.

It’s distracting.

You don’t know if it’s some sort of illness or insanity from being locked in this ship for so long; It makes him look more attractive. You hope to whatever deity or god or whatever exists out in the stars that he doesn't notice you’re staring. That he doesn't notice the way your heart is pounding in your chest and what feels like your cunt as well.

He does. As do the others. You can't kid yourself and think that with their hearing and smell that they haven't noticed that you're boiling alive, and that your body is screaming fuck me fuck me fuck me fuck me-

“He won. Out of one hundred men.”

Your gut twists and the marine behind you laughs quietly. It's deep, enough so that you swear you can feel it in your chest. You would squeeze your thighs together for some relief, but you don’t think you can without stumbling over.

“She likes the winners. Looks like you’re out.” He gestures to a fellow marine that gives him another sour look. You briefly wonder what he lost at to deserve such a jab.

“I should return to my duties,”

You meekly say, hoping to remove yourself from the embarrassment and scurry away to another quarter of the ship.

One of them blocks your path and traps you from leaving, picking you up by the armpits and holding you before putting you back down between them all. It's like you weigh nothing to them, and that they can simply jostle and swing you around like a toy.

“I’ll tell your quartermaster you were helping us.” He jerks his head in the direction of a marine clad in only the casual clothing they wear out of their ceramite. Now the focus of your attention he rolls his shoulder, and you can see the muscles of his neck and around his collarbone flex.

You swallow a knot in your throat that felt like it was going to choke you. Your hands clench tight, nails sharp against your palms. You're going to have a heart attack, you swear it. Tears well in your eyes but they don't break your waterline just yet, from sheer will alone. If any of them say another word, call you cute, small, soft, that you smell so sweet, you swear they’ll roll down your cheeks like a waterfall.

“He wants you to put on his armor. The others are always so rough, you’re so gentle with those little hands.”

The marine reaches for you, and in your back step you stumble and accidentally bump into the one who hasn't spoken at all; Just watching and sitting. You stumble over his massive armored boot and end up falling into a sit on his thigh, legs parted over it. His massive armored hand comes to grip your waist, to keep you from falling over. It covers a good portion of your stomach in the process.

You’re so tightly wound just the simple pressure alone is enough to have you clamp a hand your mouth to avoid letting out a moan that would kill you right then and there, if you weren’t already dead. Your knees quiver, toes just barely touching the ground. His massive height makes it impossible to fully stand with his thigh between your legs.

You know they can smell the way you’re leaking and staining your underwear, hear the way your heart is racing like it's going to explode. You’re half afraid you might make his ceramite thigh plate slick.

You can feel their eyes on you. They look at you like you’re food thrown to a pack of starving wolves.

One suddenly steps forward, and pushes his battle brother out of his way with a harsh slam of ceramite on ceramite before undoing the latch his belt.

“I go first.”

[illuminatedquill]

Story Summary: Ezra Bridger is home at last . . .

*Author's Note: This was originally a sabezraweek2024 fanfic that did not get finished on time and was delayed due to . . . circumstances. I hope that this story gives you, dear reader, some small measure of joy. We will be needing it in the days, months, and years to come.

Prompt - Surprise(?)

@sabezraweek

Your name is Ezra Bridger, and you have finally returned home.

Standing in the doorway of the old comm-tower you lived in for seven long, dark, and lonely years. All the old feelings return in a rush: a heady surge of nostalgia, joy, and lingering sadness that not even your Jedi training can fight against.

It almost brings you to your knees in that moment, that wave of emotions. You fight it off, swaying in the doorway.

(But you do not fight the stream of tears falling down your face. You do not even try.)

The woman who is practically a second mother to you gives you a gentle squeeze on your arm. Hera Syndulla has barely aged a day since you last saw her. Her voice still carries the gravity of command that you had grown accustomed to since the day you first met - but now it sits more heavily, more pronounced. The title of General does not seem to weigh much on her, yet the wear and tear of years fighting a war for freedom do.

You can see it in her eyes. The sadness of those who were lost.

(You were not with her to mourn the passing of your mentor, Kanan Jarrus. That is something you will always regret, no matter how necessary the sacrifice was.)

But none of that diminishes the joy. In the Force, you see her truly: a gentle fountain of golden light, always pouring forth. No darkness will ever blight the person that is Hera Syndulla. Whatever evil the galaxy conjures up to throw at her, she will never falter in her truth.

(That is an immutable fact of the universe. And everyone who knows her understands that.}

Both of the Jedi who loved her were inspired by the light she represented. So much so, that one died to protect it.

Even now, you turn to her for strength. Not to stand against an incoming darkness, but a return to the light.

You have returned home.

Hera says some gentle words, joined with a tearful smile. She has never left your side since you came back. There is always a smile - and, sometimes, with it comes some tears.

She leaves you be, once assured that you will be okay, to wait outside and extend some privacy.

Taking a deep breath, you walk inside the place you once called home.

It does not surprise you to see the mess that greets you. You know who has been living here during your absence.

(She fought for this place to remain a home. Not to become a tomb.)

A loth cat - Murley, you were told was his name - watches you with bright, curious eyes. It loafs, in the way loth cats do when relaxing, on the edge of a work bench. Cautiously, you extend a hand.

Murley sniffs hesitantly, and then gives a tender boop of his nose on the edge of your finger.

Guess that means I'm welcome to stay, you think, a smile forming on your face.

With the loth cat's approval, you walk around the comm-tower's interior slowly, taking everything in.

You see the paintings on the walls; the paint, the symbols, the signs of life and light that were not present before. The notes, the data pads, the texts, the tools, the clothes all strewn about like they were caught in the grip of a vicious gale of wind - all of it, burning brightly with her presence.

She made this a home, just as you did. A part of you wonders why she came here, of all places. She was a war hero. Surely, they offered her anywhere to stay on Lothal.

You know why, whispers a voice from the corner of your heart. She had nowhere else to go.

No. That was not the reason.

There was nowhere else she wanted to go. Not after . . .

You close your eyes, extending your senses in the Force. It takes far longer than it should, as your heart threatens to hammer its way through your chest, fueled by the sudden resurgence of feelings long thought buried.

When the calm comes, and you reach out -

Ezra.

Her voice. Saying your name in a hushed whisper, a thousand - no, a million times over and over.

Like a prayer. Every utterance comes with a different inflection - sometimes sad, sometimes happy, and sometimes angry - but, as you delve deeper into the Force, you can sense the same emotion of where it all is born from.

It's the same emotion you felt when first seeing her again after so many years of dreaming of the moment when she would come for you, at last.

You felt it when your eyes locked with hers; an achingly familiar face that you imagined on your bleakest days. A beautiful face, full of fierce pride and devotion, that you tried clumsily to recreate with a crude pen and even cruder hand, on the days when loneliness threatened to take you.

You felt it when she spoke; her voice being like a melody whose tune you had almost forgotten in the long years abandoned. Hearing it was like seeing the sun break through a dark, gray morning. She teased and joked and bantered with you like no time had passed.

You felt it when she embraced you; the steady, sure strength of her arms, clad in the unbreakable beskar steel of her people - an unbreakable strength that paled next to her own will and determination. Once, when you were younger, you thought that strength could shake the stars.

(You are more right than you are willing to admit.)

You felt it when you inhaled her scent - a scent that reminded you of the fresh bloom of flowers, delicate and lovely - as she hugged you close enough to feel the beating of your heart. Although you both acted the part of dearly reunited friends, you know that something deeper had transpired in your reunion.

Because when you felt her heartbeat, you mistook it for your own at first - until you realized that both of yours were beating so profoundly in unison that it felt like one heart.

When you open your eyes again, you are not surprised to feel the tears falling from them again.

You think about the last time you saw her - fighting on the top of a dark tower, saving another friend. A flash of emerald, flaring bright against the bleak sky of a foreign world.

You, Ezra Bridger, suddenly feel more alone than when you were stranded in another galaxy.

Looking around now, the place you called home feels empty. Despite the familiar surroundings and scents, it does not feel right. Something is missing.

Someone is missing from it. The absence fills the silence inside the comm-tower, robbing you of breath and peace.

You wonder, briefly, if this is how she felt for all those years. You can scarcely stand it now, not being there with her.

How did she handle it? How did she survive?

(You know what she did. The question is what will you do?)

You, Ezra Bridger, are surprised to realize that you are not home.

Not yet. Home, you now know, was never a place.

Home was left behind.

There is shame now. A gentle, burning regret. Once, you think to yourself, you knew this to be true.

How easy it is to forget.

(She never did.)

(What will you do, with all your power?)

You take a deep breath - and listen to the Force.

Hera comes beside you, concerned. You turn to her and say three words - a truth, a reason, and a call to action.

She laughs gently. "You didn't know?"

You shake your head, ruefully.

A gentle rap on your forehead. "Guess there's still some things for the Jedi Knight to learn."

You nod, thinking fervently, I hope so.

Hera studies you closely. "You sure about this?"

You repeat the same three words. She snorts.

"You already said that."

It makes things simpler, you think. But you only answer with a smile.

"Alright, then. Let's go get her, Ezra."

Your voice comes out firm and steady with purpose - and you think about her again, an image vividly springing to life in the forefront of your mind: her, smiling up at a sea of stars far, far away, thinking of home.

But not a place. A person.

This time, you start to think, as you walk out of the comm-tower and into the lowered ramp of the waiting Ghost.

This time, I really am going home.

[stardustdreams-andcaffeine]

Reluctant Protector | Din Djarin

Part 1 of 2

Din Djarin x Fem!reader

Summary: After being abandoned as a child, you grew up working for one of the most prolific crime lords in the galaxy in order to survive. It all comes crashing down as a split second decision has the Mandalorian hunting you. As it turns out, your hunter might be the only one who can save you. After all, the lines between predator and prey have always been blurred.

Warnings: angst (what's new), mild language, panic attack, violence, fluff, mentions of human trafficking (brief), Mando being a fool in love, adult themes throughout, happy ending (again, what's new)

A/N: This one was from the request that I accidentally deleted (i'm so mad at myself), but it was RIGHT up my alley lol. I hope my sweet anonymous finds this and I hope it is everything you wanted and more 🤍 ALSO! I got sooo carried away so it's a two-parter for ease of reading. You can find part 2 below!

Part 2

You never should have met the Mandalorian Bounty Hunter. 

You never should have left the comfort of your home planet as a child. You never should have known anything besides the warmth of your mother's arms. It does not make sense that someone like you would meet someone like him. It should not have been possible, not in a million sun cycles.

So how did your story and the Mandalorian's tangle? How did ‘never’ get overcome so easily, so swiftly?

The answer is rather simple. Anything that never should have been was thrown from impossible to possible the night your parents left on a date night when you were seven years old.

And never came back.

|||

You remembered everything from that night.

You remembered the way the rain pattered against the large window in the common room of your cozy home. You remembered the spread of stars peeking out from behind the rain clouds, ready to shine their light upon the newly-brought night. You remembered everything from that night, including the look upon your father's face when he said goodbye.

You were too young to understand it then, too little to catch the hint of despair and shred of desperation as he ushered your emotionless mother out of the front door.

"Be back before bedtime, mama! You have to finish that story you started last night," Your little voice rang out, a smile spread on your lips.

Your mother, almost numb, did not respond. Strange, she always did.

Noticing your growing frown, your father smiled, but it did not reach his eyes, "Goodbye, little one. We'll be back before you know it"

"Have a good night," You called back, already humming to yourself as you played with the toys your father had spilled out in a hurry before you, "Love you lots!"

You did not even glance up as the door shut, did not even seem to notice that, for the first time, your parents did not say they loved you too. Looking back, it was hard to fathom you had missed all of the signs. But you were just a kid, a kid. How could you have known? How could you have guessed?

How were you to predict that your parents would not walk back through that door?

When they did not make it back in time to say goodnight, you hadn't thought much about it. When you woke up and they still had not returned, confusion began to ring within your young, innocent soul. For the first day, you lost the worry to the joy that you did not have to go to lessons today. You ate what you wanted and played for as long as you liked, but when night came once more, you wondered when mama would return to finish her story.

The food ran out a week later, and it would only be a few more days until you would find out why exactly your parents had not returned.

Your small fingers worked anxiously on the drawing before you. It was all you could do not to burst into tears. Your mother and father were still not back, and you were hungry. You knew you'd have to go into town soon, but you had no money and no adults to protect you.

What had happened to mama and papa, you wondered? Were they hurt? Were they...were they dead?

That was when the front door opened for the first time in a week and a half, and your life changed forever.

You gasped as the door swung open, hope flooding your small being. You jumped to your feet swiftly and, with a bright smile upon your lips, sprinted blindly towards the man who had just walked through the door.

"Papa! I'm so-"

Your words died as you skidded to a halt before the looming Zeltron male before you. This wasn't your father, and your mother was nowhere near him. Taking a hesitant step back, your bottom lip began to tremble.

"Who are you?" You whispered, your small hands shaking and your youthful voice higher-pitched than normal. The magenta-skinned male tilted his head down at you, seeming to examine you closely for a moment.

"Vince Hanon," He replied, his voice smooth and flooded with calculation, "Your father owed me a great debt."

That was when you noticed the towering goons behind Vince, strapped to the teeth with blasters and blades alike. Your eyes widened a fraction before anger boiled through your blood. They hurt your parents, they were the reason mama hadn't come home.

Swifter than Vince or his men could predict, you shot to the side and grabbed one of the long-forgotten toys along the ground and hurled it at the tall Zeltron.

To your dismay, he caught it with ease.

A smirk danced on his face as he glanced at the toy and then at you with what seemed to be mirth. Without a word, his guards stalked forward, one pulling a pair of metal cuffs as he neared you. Surprisingly, Vince held out a single hand, stopping all movements of his men.

"Sir?" One asked, glancing back at him, "The next shipment of children leaves soon. If she is to join, we should-"

"Do not give this one to the Trade," Vince ordered, walking past his men and up to you. Ever so slowly, he knelt before you, "She is young enough to learn, and strong enough to survive."

"Survive what?" You blurted, your heart pounding in your chest, "What's the Trade? What are you going to do with me?"

Vince laughed deeply before you, "So many questions, child. You'll have your answers."

He stood before you, extending down a purple hand, "Come, I'm sure you're hungry."

And so, with no other choice, you took the strange man's hand and left.

Vince never lied to you. He told you the moment you left your home that your father had lost everything trying to pay back the debt he owed Vince. With nothing left to give but his only child, he had offered you up for the child slave trade.

For reasons you would never truly come to know, Vince did not trade you. In fact, he traded no other child after that night.

He informed you that he was the head of a group of people who did bad things for good reasons and rewards. It wouldn't be for another couple years until you understood that meant he was a Crime Lord. What he was doing was wrong, what he was training you to do was wrong.

But you were a kid, and you did what you had to do to survive.

You're not a kid anymore.

|||

Present Day

The barely-used knife pressed its soothing cool into the skin of your thigh as you sauntered through the compound. As you passed the counterparts you had known since childhood, they stepped aside with wary smiles.

They knew your true knife was not the blade with which you had a slightly below average affinity. It was your tongue.

“Look who it is, Vince’s little prodigy.” The sound of the ever-present guards outside of Vince Hanon’s office called out to you, their lips turned up in a not entirely taunting smirk. 

“Good morning, lackeys,” You greeted in return, stopping before the large, steel door that held your boss’s office behind it, “Vince sent word that he wanted to see me, another assignment apparently.”

One of the guards snickered slightly, “Hopefully it has nothing to do with using that blade on your thigh. Vince’s little prodigy would be too dead to report.”

“So funny,” You deadpan, shaking your head at the guard.

“You know, if Vince let you train with me as a child you would be proficient in the ways of combat,” The one who spoke first insisted. With a taunting smile, you walked up to the door and patted the guard’s shoulder.

“I’d also be as stupid as you, which is exactly why he didn’t.”

The laughter of the two guards filled your ears and brought a smile to your lips as you pushed the button on the panel beside the door. The steel whooshed aside, revealing Vince’s office. With that easy smile still on your lips, you greet the Zeltron who saved you as a child. His magenta skin gleamed in the sunlight that streamed in through the massive windows that made up the far wall of the office, and his white teeth were a stark contrast to the dark color as he looked up to you and smiled.

It did not go unnoticed that he only smiled at you like that.

Vince Hanon had no lover and no children, but anyone who knew a fraction about him knew that the closest thing he had to family was an abandoned child whose life he’d spared all those years ago. He wasn’t the father you’d always dreamed of, but he was the one you had. He hadn’t sold you for profit as your first father had, he hadn’t let you play with toys or even be a child in those first years under his care, but he had made you independent in this cruel, uncaring galaxy. That was something so very few women got to be. 

Vince Hanon made you self-sufficient when you should have died long ago, and it was that reason alone that made you grateful to him. Not caring, as a daughter would be to her father, as you knew he was with you, but grateful.

“My Prodigy,” Vince called out, standing from his massive mahogany desk carved with images of bones and crumbled towers along the legs, “It is always a pleasure to see you.”

“And you, Vince.” Your words were fluid and easy, not entirely a lie. A part of your heart was caught in anxious anticipation, though. 

You knew what came next. You knew he’d give you an assignment that made every part of your soul cringe. You knew what came next would push you further down the path of corruption and darkness. You knew, with a biting horror that never seemed to leave you alone, that after a few more years of doing his bidding, that small voice that whispered its disgust would go quiet. 

And you’d be just like Vince.

“I was pleased to see your last assignment was handled with efficiency and discreteness,” Vince complimented. You nodded obediently, your hands clasped before you.

“The debtor did not have the credits to pay the balance due, so it seemed the Hothian government misplaced the deed to her home.” You reported, the words less bitter on your tongue than they would have been a few years ago. 

“And it was found with my name on it,” Vince finished for you, allowing a deep chuckle to resonate through the room as he walked to your side. He put his arm along your shoulders, pulling you to his side and walking with you towards the back of his office space, “Good work, my Prodigy. I am impressed with how far you have come.”

“Thank you, Vince.” 

Your jaw was tight and that nagging grew in your soul. He was pleased that you’d placed an elderly woman onto the streets to repay the debt she owed. The debt to Vince for saving her son’s life after Vince had been the one to order his death.

Is this truly who you were now? 

The thought did not last long, as you shoved it deep down and locked it in the same room in your mind where you kept that little girl sleeping in front of an unopened door, waiting for her parents. You did what you had to in order to survive. You had no choice. 

How much longer would that lie placate you?

“I have been thinking,” Vince began again, stopping near the far wall of his office where a massive box covered with a large cloth sits. He removed his arm from your shoulders and stepped back to face you, “There is no one in this organization that I trust more than you.”

You blinked in surprise, the words slamming through you.You did not quite know how to feel when your trained eyes examined his features and expression and saw that he meant it, saw that he looked at you as a father would their child. Vince had trained you to see tells in a person’s face, and you saw none in his.

“You honor me, boss.”

Vince took a moment to simply examine your face, his eyes seeming to search for something. When he seemed to not find it, a small, real smile began on his lips. 

“I have one more assignment for you,” Vince informed, that smile growing as he took another step back and closer to the covered box, “And if you succeed, I want to make you my Second.”

The world seemed to stop spinning for a moment. Your eyes widened a fraction, your mouth dropping open the slightest bit. His Second, he wanted to make you his Second.

“But that would mean…” You trailed off, your eyes desperately searching for a tell of a lie on his face. You found none.

“You would take over for me when I retire.” Vince finished for you. 

“Vince, I couldn’t-”

“Yes, you could.” His interruption was accompanied by a hand to your shoulder, “You have earned this, my Prodigy. You deserve this.”

His Second. You would lead this organization one day, you would be the next Vince Hanon. You would have power and control. No more would you have to fear for the next meal or the next morning. You’d be safe, in control, in power. You could change the way this was run, maybe even do some good. 

This was the answer to the nagging in your chest, the horror in your soul. You could have a shot at redemption for all that you’ve done.

“Thank you, boss.” You whispered hoarsely, your voice not hiding an ounce of your emotion. Vince nodded and stepped back, those calculating eyes sweeping over your figure.

“Just one more assignment, child. One more, and it’s all yours.” 

“Anything.” Your response was stronger this time, your eyes holding a hope that hadn’t been there since you were a child. 

“A recent debtor repaid his debt. I need you to take care of it.” Vince’s words barely registered in your mind. All you could think of was your freedom. Then he pulled the cloth off of the box, and you realized it wasn’t a box at all.

It was a cage.

With a small gasp, your mind snapped back to this moment. The freedom you’d almost been able to taste came crashing down, and that horror roared in your soul so loudly that you actually stumbled back a step. 

There was a child in that cage, a little girl who looks to be the same age that you were all those years ago.

“But you…you stopped selling to the Trade,” Your voice was a breath, your words ringing with terror. 

“I did,” Vince conceded, stroking a hand along the cage’s bars and making the young girl in it recoil back as far as she could in the cramped space, “And my profits since have taken a steep drop. If I am to cement your future, I need to build up our reputation and savings again. I need to make sure every crime syndicate from here to the Outer Rim knows not to mess with us, with you.”

You were shaking your head, your heart racing and your mind fraying apart as if you hadn’t spent the entirety of your life fortifying it and trying desperately to forget. 

“I can’t,” You gasped, shaking your head and taking back a step, “I can’t-”

“Yes you can,” Vince soothed, stepping up to you and holding your arms, “You’re ready for this. Think of everything this could bring you.”

Oh you were. As you stared into that scared little girl’s eyes, it was all you could think about. You were stuck awfully between flashes of your abandonment and what your future would look like if you did this one last assignment. The loneliness in the empty house, the empire you could build. The hunger that had set in after a week alone, the security of always having another meal. The betrayal that had burrowed deep in your chest, the power you could fill its hole with. 

“She’s just another trade, a simple barter. Nothing more than the deed to a home.” Vince’s voice was an echo of your thoughts, the devil on your shoulder. 

It would be so easy, so easy. After everything that you had been through, why should you care how your safety and freedom was bought? You deserved it, your life has been anything but fair. It would be easy. One trade, and the world, the very galaxy, would be in the palm of your hands.

But would your soul ever recover? Would you ever be able to look at yourself in a mirror again? You knew what happened to little girls who went into the trade, for being in this business you knew all too well of the perversions of the people in this galaxy. 

Could you live with this? 

Vince saw the flash of an answer in your eyes a moment too late. 

The knife was already in your hand and thrown by the time Vince had just begun to open his mouth and shout for his guards. The knife lodged into his shoulder even though you’d been aiming for something more lethal. It was enough to stop him from rushing you, though. You sped forward and tackled him to the ground with every ounce of strength you had. His cry of pain was muffled by the hand you slapped over his mouth. In a quick move, you ripped the knife free from his shoulder and angled it at his throat. 

Vince went as silent as death, his eyes wide with betrayal, with…with hurt.

Your chest squeezed painfully at the look in his eyes as you moved your hand from covering his mouth. He didn’t scream, he knew better, “My child, I’ve given you the world.”

His words were choked with tears, you realized suddenly. To your surprise, tears of your own gathered in your eyes.

“I’m not your child,” You whispered, clenching your jaw to keep your resolve, “And I don’t want the world if this is what it costs.”

There was a flash of rage in his eyes, and it made your stomach drop. You’d seen it before, but never directed at you.

“You do this,” His words were calculated and controlled, barely veiling his growing anger, “And I will never stop hunting you. I will show you just what I spared you from when you were a child.”

Something broke within your chest at the thought, but for the first time since seven years old, you weren’t shoving down guilt to do something. You could feel your heart open and free, your soul resting for once, and you knew that this was what you had to do. You need to be able to live with yourself, even if it means you lived a short life. 

You are better than this, than everything you have done to survive. 

You aren’t a kid anymore. You have a choice.

“So be it,” You murmured, and then slammed the handle of the knife against Vince’s temple. He was out cold as soon as the blow was delivered, which was surprising in itself. That move had never worked before for you. You’re glad it had now, because as you stood and moved away from the magenta-skinned Crime Lord, you realized that this was freedom. 

You’re free now, and it was better than the freedom that you would have bought with the trading of your soul.

Without another thought to the consequences of your actions, you turned and sprinted over to the cage where the little girl sat crouched as far as she could in the corner. Her eyes were wide with fear and confusion and hope as she looked up at you. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” You soothed, stooping down in front of the cage and looking at the lock. 

Once you saw the shape of the key needed, you stood and jogged to Vince’s massive desk. It only took a few moments of searching before you snagged the key from under a stack of papers and forms. 

A knock sounded on the massive steel door, but it thankfully remained closed, “Everything alright in there?”

Your pulse spiked dangerously and your heart missed a beat. 

“Everything’s fine, lackeys,” You responded coolly, almost sounding bored, “Vince had to grab something from his chambers.”

This seemed to placate them, and you’re relieved that Vince’s chambers are attached to his office through a door at the very back. Knowing time was running out, you sprinted to the cage and crouched once more. Your fingers trembled as you undid the lock and threw the door open. The girl sat pressed into the far corner, and you let out a panicked breath as you extended a hand out to her.

“Come on, kid. We don’t have much time left.”

She examined your hand for an agonizingly long moment before realizing you weren’t going to hurt her. To your relief, she quickly took your outstretched hand and crawled out as fast as she could. You kept her hand in yours and tugged her towards the door at the back wall that leads to Vince’s room.

“How are we going to get out?” She mumbled. You pressed the button beside the door and it slid open easily, revealing a room of black silk and deep emerald walls. Tugging the girl in, you shut the door and made sure to press the lock button before pulling her towards the wall beside Vince’s bed.

You released her hand for a moment as you approached the massive painting that rested on the wall. Your fingers searched the edges desperately until they found a small button.

“Vince showed this to me when I was your age,” You panted, pushing the button and swinging the painting aside, “He kept it for a quick escape if the compound was ever raided.”

A large, dark hole was in the wall behind the painting—a chamber that led directly to the back of the compound. The young girl shook her head slightly, her eyes going wide as she peered into the dark reaches of the cavernous chamber.

“I can’t,” She whispered, her voice trembling, “It’s too scary, I can’t. I-”

Before you could even console her, the sound of a fist pounding on the steel door to the office in the other room echoed through the walls, “Boss, you in there? What’s going on?”

Your heart nearly stopped and you knew the guards, as stupid as they were, would notice the silence soon enough. Swirling back to the young girl, you did not wait for her response before you hoisted her into your arms and put her into the escape passageway. Thankfully, the girl had the sense to remain quiet despite her obvious trepidation as she waited in the dark for you to climb in after her. Once you had, you closed the painting as quietly as you could just as you heard the office being raided. 

It was only a matter of time before they would see Vince unconscious and venture into his bedroom beyond. You had to move, and fast.

“Come on,” You urged, finding the girl’s hand in the dark and tugging her down the passageway. As you moved down a flight of stairs, you pressed the small button on your metal bracelet, releasing a soft glow of light bright enough to illuminate your next steps and banish the girl’s fear of the dark. 

“Will they find us?” She panted, her small hand gripping yours tightly. 

“They shouldn’t,” You replied, your eyes straining into the dark beyond the small glow of your bracelet as you took turns and twists and more passages to the depths of the compound, “Vince only told me about the passage.”

Even though that should have eased the girl’s tension, her grip on your hand did not relax. It took a few minutes of deep silence before she finally spoke again. 

“You really were his favorite,” She breathed, a certain tremor in her voice. You could practically feel the weight of her large eyes burning into the side of your face.

For some reason, her words knocked you on your ass. This young girl knew who Vince Hanon was before she was taken by him, and she knew enough to have heard about you. Was this how the galaxy saw you? As Vince Hanon’s adopted daughter?

The thought made you shudder.

“Why did you betray him for me?” She asked into the thick silence, and a pang shot through your chest.

Your feet faltered, and you stopped the breakneck pace you’d been going at. With a trembling breath, you turned and looked back at the young child. The light from your bracelet lit up the contours of her face, the tear stains etched into her skin and the trauma haunting her young, innocent gaze.

“Because I was you a long time ago.” You swallowed, sudden tears swimming in your gaze as you took in the small child who nearly met such a cruel fate, “Because Vince saved me, and there was no one to save you.”

The words stung some deep, confused part of your chest. A part of you would always…be indebted to Vince. He was the holder of your chains, the destroyer of your moral compass, the tyrant of your life. But, no matter how much you tried to forget it, he saved you. He saved you when your own father would not, and he raised you as his own. 

Some twisted part of you would always pity him, even though you knew you shouldn’t.

That’s why, without a word, you smiled sadly at the girl before turning and leading her the rest of the way out of the passage.

|||

The entire city was on high alert. 

Moments after the girl and you emerged from the escape passageway and into a back alley miles from the compound, you heard the shouts and the sirens in the distance. Vince had run this city with an iron fist, he did not tolerate betrayal and the people knew that. But now, the King of Crime had been crossed by his own Prodigy.

Every goon he had working for him was now hunting for you.

Doors were shut and windows locked. The streets were empty and the last few stragglers were in no rush to speak to anyone they did not have to. Even now, only a few minutes after the crime had been announced publicly, Vince’s guards swarmed the streets, pounding on doors and demanding entry for searches.

“They’re everywhere,” The young girl you saved panted as you sprinted with her down back alleys and through abandoned shops, “Where will we go?”

“I still have some friends,” You assured in response, stopping suddenly at the back door of a normal, unassuming home miles down from where Vince’s guards were searching. Without pausing to explain to the girl, you pounded your fist desperately against the door. There was a rush of steps before an old, hoarse voice called out.

“We are closed to visitors right now. Come back later.”

“It’s me,” Is all you said in response. 

The old fashioned door swung open almost instantly. You had to squint against the sudden flood of light until you could just make out the older woman who stood in the doorway peering down at you and the girl with calculating eyes. She swung her gaze between the terrified child and you before she finally let out a long sigh. 

“You finally did it,” She mused, catching your gaze with a knowing look. 

“He asked something of me I couldn’t do,” You informed, trying to sound detached even though your entire heart was upon your sleeve, “And I need your help.”

Behind the old woman, children zoomed back and forth of all species and ages. They laughed and played jovially, unaware of the chaos outside. This place was an Orphanage, one you visited quite often with what little money you had left after Vince’s paychecks. You never allowed the Orphanage Keeper to tell you her name for her own sake, but she’d made it clear that she would be at your service should you ever need it.

You needed it now.

The Keeper looked down at the young girl who still held your hand in a tight grip and hummed, “She’ll fit right in, the guards won’t even know the difference.”

Relief broke over you, and you turned from The Keeper to stoop down in front of the confused child. 

“What’s happening?” The young girl interrogated, her voice quivering.

“This place is safe for you, The Orphanage Keeper will take good care of you. She’ll make sure you find a home and lead a normal life.”

She caught on to your tone quickly, realizing you were going to leave her here. She began to shake her head and back up from the doorway, “No, you can’t leave me. Please don’t leave me!”

Your heart shattered. Those words had haunted your own soul since you were just as old as she is. They’ve bounced around in your memories in ways you’ll never be able to put into words. To hear them come from her…Tears you did not try to hide fought their way to your gaze as you grasped the young girl’s shoulders.

“They won’t look for you, they’ll be too busy hunting me. As long as you’re near me, you will not be safe,” You explained, smiling sadly at the girl and tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, “We’ll see each other again, I just know it”

The girl sniffled, but nodded and slowly stepped away from you. The Keeper smiled down at the child, extending her hand, “Come, little one. Go on inside, I’ll be in soon to show you where you’ll be staying.”

With one last look back at you, the young girl turned and walked into the Orphanage. You stood slowly, watching her retreat into the building of laughing children. When she didn’t look back to you after that, you knew that she’d survive, that she’d make it. 

“I have a ship. It’s old and hasn’t been run in ages, but it’ll get you off-world.”The Keeper’s rushed words snapped you back to reality and you looked up at her. Nodding, you ran a hand through your hair and gathered yourself back together. 

“Don’t go to the Outer Rim,” The Keeper continued, rummaging through the small compartment by the door before she pulled out a small bag, “He’ll look there first. Try Coruscant, it’s swarming with New Republic. Vince wouldn’t dare go there.”

You nodded swiftly, your mind swimming with the rising surrealness of the perilous situation. Before you could turn and leave into the dark of night, The Keeper stepped forward and pressed the small bag into your palm. With furrowed brows, you looked down to your hand to inspect the small gift. Realizing exactly what was inside, you gazed back up at the woman sharply with wide eyes.

“You can’t give this to me, I can’t take this. It’s too much,” You rambled, trying to push the bag of credits back to The Keeper. She simply closed her weathered hands around yours and pushed the bag back towards you with a smile.

“This does not even begin to make up for all of the support you’ve given me over the years,” She rasped, tears glistening in her eyes as she realized exactly what you already know. 

This was goodbye. You would not see her again. 

“Thank you,” You breathed, knowing if you spoke any louder you'd be choking on tears. You were thanking The Orphanage Keeper for more than the credits in your hand. Through the years, no matter what horrors you committed for Vince and his gang, this Orphanage always reminded you of the light that still flickered in your soul. It reminded you that you were good. 

“May the Force be with you,” The Keeper blessed, and your heart squeezed at the unfamiliar words. 

“And with you.”

Then you turned and ran into the night, leaving behind the light of the Orphanage and its Keeper for good. It wasn’t long before you made it to the ship The Keeper told you about, and it’s even less time before you’re shooting up into the atmosphere and leaving the planet behind. As you set the ship’s coordinates to Coruscant, your mind raced. 

How far will Vince go to get you back? To repay your betrayal in blood as you knew he would? 

Before you could even come up with an answer of your own, the bracelet on your wrist beeped with an incoming message. You extended your hand out before you, brows furrowed and pulse slowly picking up. The hologram that lit up in your palm knocked the breath from your lungs and sent your heart into a dangerous rhythm. 

The crackling hologram was simple and straightforward, projected not directly towards you, but to every known crime syndicate member and bounty hunter. 

It was a picture of your face, your lips turned up at the very edge in the beginning of a smile. The words below sealed your fate.

“Y/N Y/L/N—WANTED ALIVE

BOUNTY—2 MILLION NEW REPUBLIC CREDITS”

|||

The wind cracked like a whip against your skin as you ran. 

“You can’t run forever!” The shrill, sardonic shout of the Hunter made your fear spike as you sprinted through the crowded streets of Coruscant.

You would think that a New Republic-crowded planet like this one would mean at least one bystander extended their help as you so clearly ran for your life. Even these citizens and their senators knew the price of your bounty, though, and they did not raise a finger to help you. 

Probably the entire force of the Guild was after you considering how high Vince was willing to pay to get you back. With that high a bounty, odds were that no one was going to help you.

This particular Hunter was alone, a grateful difference from the last few that had come after you. Most had decided to come in groups and split the bounty, which made them much more difficult to elude considering you weren’t the stealthiest person alive. 

You ran desperately through the crowd that parted for you. Eventually you’d have to go back into the peril of open, abandoned areas, so you took advantage of the crowd as much as you could. You could see the end of the crowd in the distance, though, and knew that it was only a matter of time before the chase was just you and the Hunter and a stretch of open space between.

As you shoved through the last of the crowd that had kept the Hunter from firing his stun shots, you heard his voice ring out through the air, “No more hiding, sweetheart!”

Your eyes scanned desperately for another way out, for an escape plan or any plan really. Not having much of a choice, you took a hard right and sprinted into an alley. As a show to your incredibly bad luck, you found it to be a dead end. 

“Shit!” You panted, turning so fast on your heel that your shoes groaned against the pavement. You stumbled to a quick halt as you found the panting Bounty Hunter blocking your way out. 

“Vince Hanon wants you alive,” He mused, a slow smile spreading across his lips, “He didn’t say how alive.”

The Hunter raised his stun blaster and fired, but you’re expecting it and have already dive-rolled to the side. The shot soared past you, crackling as it did, and you wasted no time to see how close it came before you were on your feet and charging at the Hunter. With a war cry, you shoved the Hunter with your entire body weight before he could get another shot out. He grunted as he crashed into the wall, leaving the exit open for you to sprint out. 

You did so with a pounding heart, your mind racing to come up with as many plans as you can. You raced down the sparsely populated street, your mind speeding for a solution. 

If I can just make it into an outlet, then I-

A crackling fire erupted in your back and exploded across the entirety of your body. With a cry of pain, you dropped to the floor and could barely move your head to see the blue energy crackling across your being. Your body convulsed under the stun shot, momentarily paralyzed. 

No. No, no, no, no. This can’t be it.

The pounding of footsteps slowed as they approached your downed form. You looked up in rage and terror at the Bounty Hunter. He shoved his blaster back into its holster and shook his head down at you.

“What a pity,” He uttered, smiling that slick, nauseating smile again, “I was going to take it easy on you. But now?”

You thought quickly of everything you could offer the Hunter that was more valuable than two million credits. Desperation rang through you as you came up empty. 

“Please,” Your voice shook pathetically at the last attempt to save yourself, and tears gathered in your eyes. You could feel your body slowly come back under your control and you slid back and away from the Hunter. You hated this, you hated begging for your life. 

I can’t go back, was all you could think, I can’t let him have me again.

“I like it when you beg,” The Hunter mused, walking ever so slowly towards your downed, retreating form. He was taunting you, and you both knew it. 

When he finally reached you, he crouched and grabbed you by your legs, sliding you towards him. 

“No!” You bellowed, thrashing wildly in his grip as he pinned you with his weight, “You bastard! Let me go!” 

All sense and reason had left you. Begging wasn’t going to work and it only made him happier, so you wouldn’t try it again. All you had left was a burning terror in your gut of what would happen if Vince got you back. So, you fought the Hunter with all of the fire you had left. 

The first slam of his fist into your cheek made blood spray from your now-busted lip. He couldn’t secure both of your hands in time to stop you from clawing at his face. You couldn’t fight well, but you could do that. His shout of pain was music to your ears, but he quickly secured your fists with one hand and continued his onslaught with the other.

“Stupid bitch,” He panted between hits, making stars dance in your vision, “Barely worth the two million”

Those words shouldn’t have wounded you, but you couldn't stop the hurt that exploded in your chest. With unbridled emotions, you spit a mouthful of blood up at the Hunter. He reared back in disgust, wiping your blood off of his face and peering down at you in pure hate.

“Just for that,” Is all he said as he pulled out the stun blaster. Your eyes widened a fraction and you could barely turn your cheek to brace for impact when the sound of a blaster exploded through the air.

But it never hit you. 

Suddenly, the weight of the Hunter on you slid off and you turned your head up to see him crumpling to the ground with a burning hole in his chest. 

Pure dumb luck. 

Hope bursted through you as you scrambled to your feet and delivered an extra kick to the corpse, spitting more of your blood down on him before wiping it off your mouth with the back of your hand. You glanced up, looking around curiously for the one who fired and saved you. 

Your gratitude died when your eyes found him. 

The world slowed to an almost stop as panic, real and true, constricted your chest. Shining, dark silver beskar gleamed at you in the burning afternoon sunlight. He stood like an angel of death not thirty paces from you. You knew who he was, everyone knew who he was in your line of work.

The Mandalorian. Perhaps the best Bounty Hunter in the Guild, and the most ruthless.

He wasn’t saving you, he was taking your bounty for himself. 

You stumbled back, your entire body aching but your mind screaming at you to go, run!

The Mandalorian began to stalk towards you and you turned, breaking out into a desperate run. You could only limp, though, and you knew he’d be upon you before you could stop him. You glanced back as you continued your pathetic excuse for a run, and your heart missed a beat when you saw he had almost caught up to you. Turning your head back forward, tears swam in your vision. 

No, your mind repeated again and again and again, No, no, no

You couldn’t outrun him, you couldn’t outsmart him, you couldn’t overpower him. You were done. You were done, and the desperation in your chest revealed that you knew it.

Your exhaustion almost overpowered your adrenaline and you stumbled into the wall of a nearby building, bracing yourself against it as you tried to keep moving. Practically feeling his domineering presence behind you, your eyes searched the building’s edge for a weapon. The best you could find was an abandoned speeder wrench. You grasped the long tool in your trembling hand and whipped around, swinging the wrench with all of the strength you had left. 

Your heart faltered as the Mandalorian caught your wrist with ease, looking down at you with that emotionless, daunting helmet of beskar. His grip was tight, but not bruising, on your wrist, and you dropped the wrench. You watched his free hand grab a small device on his weapons belt, and you knew immediately it was some sort of stunning device similar to the other Hunter’s.

“Don’t do this.” You knew your plea fell on deaf ears, but you had to try, “Please don’t do this, I can’t go back.”

His head tilted down at you, but he didn't say a word. The warmth of his hand seeped through the gloves he wore and burned into your skin as he held your wrist. A tear slipped down your cheek, searing its path across your skin. You could feel yourself give up. 

You’d been running alone for nearly a week and had barely slept a combined total of three hours. Your body couldn’t take anymore, your soul can’t take anymore. 

“Just kill me,” You suddenly begged, another tear slipping down, “If you’re gonna bring me in, just kill me. Please kill me, please.”

This seemed to stun the Mandalorian, because his grip on your wrist loosened slightly. The hand holding the stun device stalled and you heard him take in a breath.

“What?” The word was so simple and so low that you almost missed it, but the rumble of his gruff, modulated voice struck to your very chest. There was something in that voice…something you couldn’t quite place. 

Something that made you think he might honor your request, that he might listen. 

“Kill me,” You pleaded again, bringing the hand he didn’t hold to press against his beskar chest plate, “Don’t let him have me alive, I’d rather die. Please kill me,”

There was a charge in the air between you two that confused you, and you blamed it on the delusions your panic was causing. With his hand still holding your wrist and your hand on the cool metal plating his chest, you practically leaned all of your exhausted weight onto him. You could barely stand anymore, and you shut your eyes, turning your head and waiting for his killing blow. 

Death was better than Vince Hanon. 

You waited and waited and waited, but the blow never came. 

“I’m not going to kill you,” The Mandalorian murmured, his voice like gravel and deceivingly soothing to your soul. Pure desperation makes another tear slip down your cheek as you open your eyes that are so, so tired. 

“No,” Is all you could make out, lifting your exhausted gaze to his helmet. 

“I’m not gonna turn you in, either.”

His words sent a shot of confusion through your soul. 

“What?” You breathed, your brows furrowed. 

“I won’t turn you in,” The Mandalorian repeated, his voice sounding just as confused as you, but with an edge of a vow that made you believe him. 

“Thank you,” You mumbled, the adrenaline that had kept you awake for nearly an entire week seeping out of your system, “Thank you”

It probably was not smart, but you couldn’t stop your body from giving in to the need to sleep. You collapsed, your eyes slipping shut and your mind already shutting down into that blissful abyss of rest. As your body slipped to the floor, you felt strong, warm arms catch you. Suddenly, you felt yourself being lifted and pressed into cool metal. 

“I’ve got you,” The Mandalorian vowed, his voice uncertain but his soul remembering what it felt like trying to turn in the Child when he first hunted him down, “I’ve got you.”

The Mandalorian held your sleeping form close to his chest as he walked past the outskirts of the busy Coruscant town and near the shipyard where the Crest awaits. To be completely honest, he didn’t know what he was doing. He needed those credits, and it had been all too easy to find you considering how many Hunters were on your trail. 

Din stood there in the shadows of an alleyway, watching that Hunter take you down and approach your convulsing body. He watched with a blaster raised, ready to take the Hunter out and then claim your bounty instead. Din watched as you fought like a hellcat to be free, watched you spit your blood up at the Hunter. 

When he took out the Hunter, he wasn’t entirely sure if he’d done it to claim your bounty himself or save your life.

As he followed your limping form easily, not even having to run to catch up with you, he was so sure he’d collect your bounty. He had convinced himself he would, even after that familiar nagging of his conscience began. 

Then Din caught you, and you begged for death. 

Never before had a bounty done that, at least if he didn’t torture them for information first. Yet here you were, begging for death. Din had felt like a sort of Reaper as you sobbed and pleaded for your end, and suddenly he could not understand how the Reaper managed to fulfill those pleas. 

In that moment, peering into your tear-filled eyes and seeing the desperation, the fear that wasn’t directed at him, Din couldn’t do it. He couldn't kill you, and he sure as hell couldn't turn you in to Vince Hanon.

So now here he was, carrying you to his ship with the intent of helping you escape. 

It was stupid, Din knew that. He shouldn’t be doing this, he should have left you there on the street to fend for yourself. This wasn’t his problem. You weren’t his problem.But he just couldn’t. It was his biggest weakness, and everyone knew it. First with the kid, and now with you. Even now he couldn’t think of leaving you to fend for yourself, not as he looked down at your sleeping form cuddled into his chest as if you had never been held before.

Maybe you hadn’t, just as he hadn’t in a long while. 

Ultimately, that was why Din let you cling to him in your oblivious sleep when he would have shoved almost anyone else off.

And it was in that moment that Din Djarin knew he was screwed.

|||

When you woke up, you didn’t recognize your room. 

For a moment you stayed perfectly still, knowing that your memories would supplement the answer eventually. As you sat up slowly, you took in the cot you lay upon in the small room. 

A ship, you determined. 

That’s when the events of when you were awake came rushing back—the Bounty Hunter on Coruscant, nearly getting caught, the Mandalorian. 

The Mandalorian…saving your life. 

Why would a Bounty Hunter save you? 

Instantly, doubt began to creep into your mind. Reason took over for desperation now that you were rested and in a Bounty Hunter’s ship. The Mandalorian was one of the best in the Guild, he would have said anything to get you onto his ship. He had to be on his way to Vince right now. 

With a wary mind, you got off of the bed slowly. You tried to be as silent as possible, but failed horribly, as you crept out of the small room you were just sleeping in. As the door to the room slid open, you were met with the hull of a ship. It was relatively clean, but had small clusters of scrap metal and assorted belongings in corners of the room. To your right, as you glanced up, was a ladder leading to what had to be the cockpit. 

He was probably up there right now. 

Your breath was shallow, but you took your time to scan the ship warily. You paused upon a good-sized metal cabinet in the back. If there were any weapons in this ship, that’s where they would be. You walked up to the cabinet quietly, looking back towards the ladder to make sure the Mandalorian wasn’t coming down. As your fingers reached towards it, your mind was racing with plans. 

You’d never beat him in any sort of combat, but if you could sneak up and surprise-

A choked gasp broke out of your mouth as a strong hand grabbed your shoulder and flipped you around. In an instant, you were pressed up against the metal cabinet with a beskar-coated arm barring your throat hard enough to keep you in place, but not enough to cut off your air supply. 

“You really think that was gonna work?” He ground out, cocking his head down at you. Your chest was heaving with breath as you looked up at him, desperately trying to look tough. 

“Did you really think I was going to let you deliver me to Vince without a fight?” You rasped back, your eyes lit with fire as you stared into the abyss of that beskar helmet. 

“Deliver you to-” The Mandalorian stopped his sentence, sounding almost disgruntled as his arm loosened at your throat, “I told you I wouldn’t. I keep my promises.”

“How do I know that?” You countered, suddenly trying to ignore the burning heat of his arm against your throat, even with his armor in the way, “How do I know you’re not gonna say anything to keep me docile before delivering me to him?”

The Mandalorian stopped for a moment, but even as he did your words felt wrong. A part of you, deep within your chest, knew you could trust him. But you were raised to trust no one, so you ignored the intuition and stood your ground.

There was a thick silence as you waited for his response, but it was anything but silent. You were all too aware of how close his body was pressed to yours, of the heat that radiated off of him and the charge in the air. 

“If I wanted to turn you into Vince Hanon, you’d already be there,” The Mandalorian finally reasoned, stepping back from you and dropping his arm as if he too realized the intimacy of your position, “You slept for two and a half days, you can check if you think I’m lying.”

A part of you wanted to check just to spite him, but as much as you hated to admit it, you believed him. You stayed with your back against the metal cabinet and observed the Bounty Hunter.

“Where are we going, then?” You inquired, the skepticism heavy in your tone. 

“Serenno.” His reply was short and clipped, but you still visibly reacted.

“Serenno?” You retorted, already shaking your head, “That’s Outer Rim. I won’t-”

The Mandalorian cut you off, taking only one menacing step towards you, but it was enough to make your words die.

“You tried the populated, New Republic planet and obviously that didn’t work for you. Vince probably has men crawling through that sector now, so the Outer Rim is our best bet.”

Our? The word came off of his tongue so naturally that it struck a chord deep in your chest. “I was advised to stay away from there. Vince has men patrolling for me there. Why would it be any better now?” You cut back. 

“Because now you have me.” 

He didn’t raise his voice, didn[t even sound pissed off, but there was something in his words that sent a chill running down your spine. An arrogant man would say those words carelessly, and you knew exactly what it sounded like coming from them. But The Mandalorian? He wasn’t arrogant. He was sure, and for reasons you didn’t want to unpack just yet, it made your heart miss half of a beat. 

“If you’re gonna make it out of this, you have to trust me,” He followed up. You almost laugh.

“That’s not happening,” You quipped, but your eyes told a different story. You didn’t want to stroke his ego by telling him that he was already the most trustworthy person you’d met in years. “How are we going to make it out of this anyway?”

There it was again. We. Why had you said ‘we’?

“Only one way that I see,” The Mandalorian responded, turning from you and walking over to a corner of junk on his ship, “Kill Vince Hanon.”

He said it so casually, but it didn/t stop the words from choking you from within. That should have sat easily with you considering what he had almost made you do before you betrayed him. And yet, after everything, you couldn’t fully convince yourself you’d land a final blow if the time came. 

There was a long silence, one that indicated the conversation was over. The Mandalorian turned to the ladder, ready to go back up to the Cockpit when you called out to him suddenly, almost desperately.

“Why are you helping me?”

He paused, his back to you as it had been for the last few minutes. He turned his head slightly in your direction, but didn't turn around. 

“I don’t know,” He grunted out, then turned and went up the ladder.

He was lying, you knew it the second he spoke. Vince trained you to see tells, and you could see them even through his helmet. You didn’t have time to ponder why he really was helping you when another door near to the one you were sleeping in slid open. 

You turned towards the noise, confusion and wariness springing up in your gut. You hadn’t known he had a crew, you had just assumed it was him alone in this ship. 

So, considering that, surprise isn’t quite the right word to describe what flashed through you when you watched a child walk out of the room.

“What the-” You breathed, your words dying out on your own as the small, green toddler stopped outside of his room and looked up at you with massive, dark eyes. 

Before you could even call out to the Mandalorian, you hear a rushed curse followed by the thud of his feet slamming against the ship’s flooring as he jumped from the ladder. Suddenly, the beskar-coated Bounty Hunter is storming over and scooping the child up into his massive arms. 

“What are you doing out, kid?” He scolded softly, but even you could hear the tenderness in his voice—the mark of a father. At least, what you imagined a father would be like.

The child tilted his head up at the daunting, death-bringing Mandalorian and smiled, reaching out with his tiny hands out to the Hunter. You could hear The Mandalorian sigh in resignation, tucking the child close into his body, “You make it hard to be mad at you, kid. You know that?”

Watching this angel of Death, the Hunter who almost became your reaper, cuddle a small child to his chest with those hands scarred with blood and murder…you could feel your heart melting.

You knew instantly that you were in trouble, serious trouble. 

The Mandalorian turned to you, holding the child close, “It seems I have a knack for sparing the bounties I’m given.”

Surprise skittered across your face as you took in the meaning in his words. Any small amount of doubt in your safety with this Mandalorian suddenly dissipated into ash. You’d never tell the Hunter that, but you couldn’t deny that his word was good. He said was going to help you, and that’s what he was going to do. 

“Cute kid,” You managed to get out, not being able to stop the smile that grew onto your lips, “He’s lucky to have you for a father.”

The daunting, ever-stoic Mandalorian suddenly seemed to grapple with his words, and it takes more effort than you’d like to admit to keep the amused smile on your lips from turning into a laugh. 

“I’m not his blood, I’m just watching out for him.” He finally settled on. 

Something haunted and broken suddenly speared into your chest, and you knew from the way the Mandalorian’s back stiffened and head tilted that it passed across your face. With a smile that’s sad and built with years of heartache, you locked your gaze with the Bounty Hunter that spared you.

“A father isn’t always bound by blood,” You nearly whispered, breaking away from his gaze and reaching up to run a soft, caressing finger across the child’s large ear. He giggled, leaning into your touch. You smiled wider, this one less sad than before. 

“He’s a lot to handle isn’t he?” You asked. The Mandalorian stiffened, seeming defensive. 

“No. He’s actually-”

“I was talking about you, Mando,” You interrupted, looking away from the kid’s large eyes and up to the Mandalorian with a raised brow. He cocked his head down at you.

“Careful, I can still turn this ship around and take you to Vince,” He threatened, but you knew now that he never would. Somehow, you just knew that. 

“Sure you will,” You taunted, smiling up at him before taking a step back from the kid who reached after you, “What’s your name anyways, Mandalorian? Or am I expected to call you Mando for the rest of our lovely time together?”

“Why would I give you that?” He asked, his voice like gravel and silk all at once. He was a siren and you were a sailor—blissfully doomed from the start.

“Because you already have mine,” You reasoned, alluding to the bounty he took on you, “It’s only fair.”

He paused for a moment that stretched on long enough for you to know that he wasn’t going to give it. You nodded in response, clicking your tongue “Mando it is.”

You turned, walking towards the ladder that led up to the cockpit. You made it up a few rungs when his voice stopped you.

“Din.”

You froze, taking a few seconds to comprehend what he just said. With your back to him, you didn’t stop the smile that grew onto your lips. 

“Thanks for saving my ass, Din,” You called back, before continuing up the ladder. It was so soft that you almost missed it, but Din chuckled quietly to himself below. The sound traveled down your spine and turned your heart molten.

You definitely were in trouble. 

Then again, you always loved trouble anyways. 

|||

The sun hung low in the sky, slinging the last of its light across the tops of mountains and through the lush rainforests stretching between the settlements of Serenno. As you and Din left the Razor Crest in a clearing and trekked towards a nearby city, there was a smile you could not stop from breaking free.

It wasn’t long lasting, for the moment the illusion of peace settled over your shoulders, the Mandalorian’s words were quick to remind you of the truth.

“Stay close to me. Don’t wander off, don’t go anywhere on your own. Keep your eyes open, and if you see anything tell me.” His voice was low and even and perhaps the most daunting sound you’d ever encountered. There was something so dangerous in the smooth, controlled tone modulated by his mask. It almost made you nod in easy compliance. 

“I think you’re forgetting I’m used to this life, Mando,” You insisted, walking harder than you’d like to admit to keep up with his pace as the two of you entered the city, “I don’t need you controlling my every step. I know how to take care of myself.”

“Yeah? That worked out so well for you on Coruscant.” Din fired back at you, his voice not even ratcheting up in volume an inch. He didn’t even look over at you as he sauntered down the main street of the city. As the two of you walked, every stare that slipped your way left just as swiftly when they caught sight of the Mandalorian. 

“I survived longer on my own than most would. I’m not saying I don’t need your help, just that I’m not a child for you to boss around.” 

That seemed to strike a chord in his chest as he suddenly stopped and grabbed ahold of your arm, tugging you to a stop so abruptly that you stumbled right into him. Din steadied you with a hand on either arm, holding you so close that you had to crane your neck up to meet his unflinching helmet peering down at you.

“You think you can make it without me? Go ahead, leave.” He growled, finally showing a touch of emotion in his voice. You lifted your chin to meet his gaze, trying to ignore that way your heart could not seem to find an easy rhythm this close to Din. His words sent ice shooting through your chest, but much to your surprise, you found fire dancing up to tangle with it. You didn’t know whether to be intimidated or infatuated with him in this moment, and that thought was what jolted you back to reality. You stayed silent in response, because you knew the truth.

You would be dead within hours without the Mandalorian.

“That’s what I thought,” Din gritted out, his eyes sweeping over your figure for another moment before he let you go and began to walk away, “Now come on. We need supplies.”

You followed hastily, your eyes scanning the city for signs of hunters tracking you. As you struggled to think of anything besides the impact of Din’s words on you, Din stormed as far ahead of you as he could without leaving you completely behind. All the while, Din was trying to shove down the relief that you hadn’t taken his words seriously and left. The words had come out of his mouth, but within, Din had been begging you to see through the lie that they already were. 

What terrified Din most was that he had practically just met you and yet he knew exactly what you could become to him should he not be careful. It was a fact that was hard to ignore when he looked at you and realized that you were the sun and him the moon—a mere reflection of the beauty before him. 

Din shook his head to rid the thought, but to no avail. Instead, he grew grumpier and tried to increase the space between the two of you.

Trying to diffuse the tension, you jogged up to stay close to the Mandalorian and sighed, “So, what do we need to get?”

“Food, blankets, ammunition, anything else we’ll need to camp out here for a while,” Din responded. And, without even looking over at you, he spoke again.

“And we need to get you new clothes.”

You scoffed in surprise, looking down at your bloody and torn clothes. He was right, but it didn’t make you any less angry about it. You stormed after him, your fists clenched. 

“You’re one to talk, Mando.” You retorted, catching up to him in time to hear his low chuckle. Immediately, your poor, unknowing heart stumbled at the sound and you found yourself once again, unable to be angry with the Bounty Hunter. 

“That was a joke,” You realized, looking over at Din with surprised eyes, “Since when do you make jokes?”

He didn’t respond to that, just kept leading the way deeper into the town, “Get a move on, trouble. Can’t spend too long in town considering your luck.”

You followed with a small smile on your lips. It took hours to gather all that you needed to camp out on Serenno, and when Din finally began to turn and head back to the Crest, you almost cried in relief. Your arms ached with all of the wares you helped carry, and you were well past the exit of the city when Din finally began to explain to you the plan.

“We’ll hide out here for now. It’s quiet enough,” He assured, the Razor Crest coming into view as the two of you delved into the dense rainforest just before the clearing where it was parked, “Once we come up with a solid plan to take out Vince, we’ll move.”

Once again, the notion of ‘taking out’ the Zeltron who raised you struck you harder than it should have. You were able to hide it earlier, but as you exited the last of the trees obscuring the Crest, Din did not miss the way you went uncharacteristically silent. He didn’t say anything at first, and you thought he might let it go. As the two of you boarded the Crest and dropped the supplies onto the floor, the kid walked out of the room his crib sat in and looked up at you with wide, excited eyes. You couldn’t help but smile. 

“Hello there,” You cooed, stooping down and picking him up, “Glad to see you missed me already.”

The child giggled in response, babbling some nonsense that you couldn’t quite understand. You felt the Mandalorian’s presence before you saw him, especially with how the attention of the child immediately switched to over your shoulder. You turned, not even meeting Din’s stare as you handed him his kid. The little one went happily, grabbing onto his caretaker as if he were anything but a feared Bounty Hunter. You smiled at the child before turning and walking with the clothes Din had bought you to your makeshift room to change. Before you could make it in, though, his voice called out to you.

“You don’t want to kill him.” Not a question, a statement. 

So much for that.

Confliction tearing through you, you turned around and faced the Mandalorian and his child once again. Your eyes darted from the Mandalorian’s beskar helmet to the small child he held so close in his arms, and then back again. You could do little to hide the brokenness lingering in your gaze.

“I know it’s wrong,” You whispered, not fully understanding why you were being so vulnerable with this stranger, “I hate him. It should be easy to want him dead. It would solve all of my problems. But…”

The words you couldn’t say spoke just as loudly in silence as they would have in the air. 

For a moment, you feared Din would push the matter and force the truth of your past out. Instead, he sighed and set down the kid, “Get changed. I’ll have a meal ready when you’re done.”

And that was that. He turned and walked away, going to do as he said. You stared for a moment in surprise that quickly shifted into a deep gratitude that spilled into your aching chest cavity. Din hadn’t forced you to say anything. He’d seen you were uncomfortable and he had let it go. 

This Mandalorian was not who you thought he was, who he looked to be at first glance. With every passing day you spent with him, you realized your first impression could not have been further from the truth. With every day, you were proven more wrong about him in the best way possible.

And with every day, you wished you weren’t wrong at all. 

Because how were you supposed to leave him in the end if you kept finding reasons to want to stay? 

|||

It had now been weeks since you’d joined Din and the two of you had settled on Serreno. 

In order to continue funding living while the two of you grappled with the best way to stop Vince and his bounty on you, Din had taken up a few smaller, low-profile bounties. He was careful not to pick up anything too forward since Vince had most likely noted by now that the two of you were together considering the debacle of Coruscant all those weeks ago. 

And every time he went on a hunt, you found a way to join him. 

At first, it was surprisingly easy to convince the Mandalorian to let you accompany him on his hunt. You’d claimed it was for your safety and that it was best to be with him whenever you could. After the first few, though, Din grew reluctant to let you come. He now considered the hunts more dangerous than staying in the Crest with the Child. You were running out of excuses to go with him, because you would not dare tell him the truth. 

You wouldn’t dare to imagine the pity spreading across his face beneath that daunting mask that had become almost home to you when he found out the truth. In the time you’d spent together, you had fallen into a sort of routine. Wake up, plot and plan, go into town for hunts, execute those hunts. He’d taught you basic combat skills, his gloved hands leaving traces of fire where they corrected your form, and Din had even begun to eat in front of you, just lifting up the bottom of his mask to do so and allowing you to see his strong jaw and lips. 

Those lips would haunt you night after night in dreams you could no longer control. To put a long story short, you’d grown attached. Hopelessly attached. And now, you couldn't help but be terrified of him leaving and not returning. 

Just as your parents had all those years ago. 

The fear was irrational and you knew it. Din was a man of his word and he’d promised you he would see you through this bounty and so you knew that he would. And yet, with the attachment that had grown rather quickly between the two of you, so too grew a fear of losing someone you lo-

Your thoughts stalled on the next word, and with a bolt of butterfly-filled fear in your gut, you amended the word. 

Care for. A fear of losing someone you care for. 

After all, if your parents—the only people in the galaxy who were meant to love you unconditionally—could leave you, so could the Mandalorian. 

Your thoughts were once again interrupted by the sound of Din walking out of his chambers, adjusting a piece of his beskar armor. He struggled with the piece, cursing it out roughly beneath his breath as an amused smile traipsed onto your lips. 

“Need some help?” You called out, lifting an eyebrow at him. His gaze snapped to yours and he huffed.

“No,” He rumbled. You hummed, standing to your feet and walking over to him.

“Sure you don’t.” You did not wait for him to object as you grabbed his shoulders and shoved him down into a chair nearby and began to work on the beskar shoulder plate.

“I can do it,” Din informed rather defeatedly.

You laughed softly, “I know you can, big guy.”

Your fingers worked with the plate of metal until you realized he had strapped it on wrong. Swiftly and deftly, you removed it and were just about to replace it when you noticed a jagged cut in his shirt beneath. The cut revealed a patch of tanned skin with an equally long and jagged cut on it that was now red and inflamed. You sucked in a breath sharply.

“What the hell Din? Why didn’t you mention you got hurt on the hunt yesterday?” You pressed, quickly setting down the beskar plate and rushing for a med kit, “It’s probably infected by now!”

“I can barely feel it,” Din defended, but surprisingly stayed in the chair as you grabbed the kit you were looking for and jogged back over to him, “Besides, I was going to put some bacta spray on it later and-”

“Bacta, really?” You cut in, shaking your head at the bounty hunter, “Is that your solution to everything? Put bacta on it?”

He shrugged, “Worked so far.”

Shaking your head, you grumbled your disapproval as you peeled back his shirt to see the extent of the laceration on his arm. Noting that it wrapped around slightly to the front, you moved to stand before the seated Mandalorian to get a better access to the cut. As your fingers danced along the injury, his skin was impossibly hot to your touch. 

Because of a fever, you convinced yourself as you opened the med kit and looked around for a surface to set it down on. Noticing your search, Din patted his lap with his hand. 

The movement made you actually stutter for a moment. It was a harmless offer, but the sight of it sent shockwaves tumbling through you. With a clouded mind, you set down the med kit on his thigh on the side opposite to his injured arm. He kept the kit braced with his free hand as you stepped between his legs to get closer to his injured arm.

You wished you could say that you didn’t even notice the position as you began to apply disinfectant to the cut, but it seemed to be the only thing on your mind. Din’s body heat bolted into you with how close you were to him and the scent of his soap that still lingered along his body dizzied your mind and reminded you of star-filled nights and rustling trees. 

As you looked away from the injury and to the med kit, you grabbed the stitching needle and expertly began to suture his cut closed. You threaded the first stitch through his skin swiftly and without warning, making him suck in a sharp breath before you and instinctively grab onto your lower waist with the hand not bracing the med kit. 

You gasped softly at the unexpected contact and looked down, an apologetic look crossing your distracted, breathless features, “Sorry, should’ve warned you.”

Din shook his head, clearing his throat, “No, I’m good. Keep going.”

Yet his hand lingered on your waist. 

As you began to stitch up his cut, every free part of your mind was centered on that large, strong hand that rested ever so lightly on your waist. When you were about halfway through the stitch, the tense silence was finally broken.

“Where did you learn how to do all this?” Mando asked, his voice sounding ever so slightly strained. 

“Whenever Vince’s fighters would come back from missions, I’d help patch them up where I could. Our healer trained me in a few vital skills while he worked,” You narrated, your voice airy and light as your fingers worked with the needle, “I was always good with the difficult cases because I’d tell them stories while we worked and it kept them distracted. I never could fight well, but I sure as hell could talk.”

“I know you can,” Din mumbled, making a surprised laugh break through you. You looked down at him, peering into the dark reaches of his beskar helmet that looked up at you.

“Careful teasing me, Mando. I’m the one with a needle in your arm.”

He released a low, soft laugh and his hand on your waist tightened the smallest bit. That was the end of the conversation, but it was the beginning of something else entirely. No longer did your attraction live chiefly in your dreams plagued with beskar and a voice so alluring it haunted you. You were awake, and you were sure you’d never been awake until this moment.

It was too much—the attraction, the tension, the dependency you were beginning to build up for him. 

Din Djarin was like the hit of a drug or a breath of sweet air or the touch of nectar to the tongue—now that you’d known him, felt him, heard his laugh, you could never want for anything but him and it would never be enough until you had more.

“All done,” You whispered, putting the med kit back together and closing it. With the wound dressed and his beskar plate in place, Din stood from his perch before you could step back. The hand he had at your waist stayed there for a moment, keeping you from running away. 

With his hulking presence before you and the way he peered down at you silently through his beskar helmet, you nearly forgot your own name. Your breaths were shallow and your heart raced in its cage of bones. Standing there, looking up at Din with your chest almost touching his, you knew. 

You knew that when this was over, you couldn’t leave him. You wouldn’t leave him. You were suddenly unaware of how you’d gone the entirety of your life without him, let alone how you’d continue it after this was over. You felt as if Din was tethered to the breath in your lungs, the beat of your heart, the firing of your thoughts. 

And for the life of you, you could not figure out how such a deep, ardent connection had taken root in your soul for someone you’d only known for a few months. It did not make sense, and somehow that was the beauty of it. These feelings were not explainable or rational, they were anything but. And that thrilled you just as much as it made you frightened that he’d walk out the door just like your parents had.

You wouldn’t recover from it this time. 

“Din-”

You were cut off by the sound of the small, green child waddling up to the two of you and babbling something you could not understand. As if a knife had quartered down the moment between Din and you, the both of you stepped back instantly. His hands left your waist and yet you could still feel the phantom of their touch. 

Din sighed as he stooped down and gathered the kid in his arms, “I know kid, we gotta get you something to eat.”

“I swear that child has the largest appetite,” You mused, a smile lighting your lips as you looked at the vulnerable youngling in the rough, intimidating arms of the Mandalorian. 

For a moment, you wondered what it felt like to be in his arms, held close and safe like that. 

“What are we gonna do with him for the hunt this afternoon?” You inquired, turning and securing the blaster Din had gotten you onto your belt, “And don’t even start the lecture on how we should be getting serious about our Vince planning. I know it seems like I’m being avoidant but if I just had a little more time then…”

You allowed your voice to trail off when you noticed the different kind of silence filling the crest. With furrowed brows, you turned to see Din tucking in the child to his crib. A sigh sounded from his modulator as he stepped back and checked his weapons, not even being able to look up to your gaze. 

“Din?” 

He paused, and the silence made your stomach twist. Finally, he looked up at you, “I need to do this hunt alone.”

For a moment, your brain would not grasp to compute the words, “What?”

“This is a dangerous one, and I’d feel better if you were here keeping the kid safe until I have it done.” 

It took every ounce of your energy to restrain the panic that immediately roared to life in response to the trauma-triggering words. The timing could not be worse for this conversation, not when you’d just been reminiscing on how haunted you were that he would walk just like your parents had. 

You managed to keep your face void of the telling emotions brewing within and shook your head, “Don’t be silly, Mando. If it’s really that dangerous, then I’ll just come with you.”

“No,” He urged, his voice stronger this time as he took a step closer to you, “I need you and the kid safe. I can’t ensure that if you’re out with me on a hunt like this.”

“I can hold my own,” You argued, trying and failing to keep the desperation from leaking into your voice, “I’ll just go with you and-”

“It is not safe for you out there. Vince’s bounty on your head keeps ratcheting up and everytime you leave this ship, your chances of being caught grow. I cannot risk that.” Din cut in, and even though he was grappling to keep the intense worry within his gut from spilling out, you were hopelessly battling the trauma-ingrained panic of what his words meant to you. 

He might have been looking out for your safety, but your irrational mind was already jumping to conclusions and you could not stop it. After all, Din had no ties to you besides a promise built on a foundation of good will and blind trust. What would really stop him from finding another ship and leaving you here? The Razor Crest was an aging ship anyways, and he had more than enough credits for an upgrade. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Mando assured, walking past you and towards the hatch that was now lowering and opening to the outside, “It shouldn’t take me all night, but if it does, don’t come hunting for me. I can’t risk you being caught.”

“Din, please don’t-”

Your words died as he walked down the hatch and off into the mid afternoon light. 

“Please don’t leave me,” You whispered to yourself.

If he’d spared just one moment to look at your face, Din would have seen the anguish there. He hadn’t looked, though, because something had changed so fundamentally within the bounty hunter when he’d stood so close to you just moments ago.

Din had peered down at you, taking in the beauty of your face and your very soul, and had realized the extent of what he’d do for you. More accurately, Din had realized that there were no limits to what he’d do, give, endure to ensure your safety. He’d always been a natural protector, but this was different. You were different. And Din knew that one more look into your haunted eyes would have him setting course for whatever shithole Vince Hanon lived in and slaughtering him just so you could live with a peace of mind. 

So Din kept walking, and left you in the Crest. He left you, not knowing that you did not believe he’d come back. He left you, unaware that you were already beginning to fray with the lies your mind was bellowing down upon you. 

He left you, and all you could think about was what would happen if you never saw him again.

[masterjedilenawrites]

@dragonrider9905!!! I have sat on this prompt for way too long 😩 I almost let it go but I already had a few hundred words written out, so I went ahead and added a few hundred more to finish it. It's a lot shorter than it could have been but oh well... maybe it's something I add to later? Anyway, hope it was worth the wait! 😬

Tech x reader | 1.1k words

Content: references to reader being a little dumb/having bad ideas, descriptions of traps and peril, mostly comedic with some heart

Fact: Your family was missing, and the only hope you had of finding them was by teaming up with a group of tenacious clones called the Bad Batch. You were restless in your search for them, doing all you could to keep up with the Batchers as they chased after clues.

Fact: You were not the brightest star in the sky. At least when it came to mission plans. You'd led them on wild goose chases, miscalculated various risks, and almost burnt down the ship one time. To say it was fitting you be banned from any strategy meetings was simply a given after a certain point.

Fact: Tech liked you anyway.

He wasn't sure why, given the obvious differences in the ways your minds worked. He was methodical, technical, and realistic; you were hasty, abstract, and idealistic. He was content to work on plans until they were perfect, while you were quick to take action, even when you weren't sure what those actions were. He was intellectual, you were imaginative.

And yet, despite all these differences, all the ways you two just never saw eye-to-eye, he found himself drawn to you anyway. He got close whenever he could, picked your brain on whatever he could think of, just to see what your answer would be. He looked forward to seeing you each day and couldn't help but prioritize your well-being just a little higher than any others'.

The rest of the Batch didn't quite hold the same fondness. They were polite enough, and you did have some good times laughing around campfires. But they had drawn a hard and fast line around letting you call any shots on missions. Tech was fittingly put in charge of holding you back. He could listen to your dumb and silly ideas all day, but he would also know to never let those ideas turn into actual plans.

For a while, the arrangement worked. Tech kept you from interfering without making you feel bad. And the rest of the Batch was able to continue making progress toward finding your family.

But then one day, they got themselves in a mess so bad, not even their own bold strategies could fix it. They were on a rescue mission. A kidnapped senator held hostage in a mansion on an outer rim planet owned by Separatist sympathizers. Supposedly the senator had been the last person to see your family. You and Tech stayed behind in the Marauder, watching the heat signatures of the rest of the Batch make their way through the labyrinth of rooms in the mansion, coaching them around corners and keeping them one step ahead of any enemies.

They had made it to the senator easily enough, but then a whole slew of alarms and booby traps went off, a completely unaccounted for defense system. Every counter measure known to the galaxy seemed to be deployed. The holopad lit up in Tech's lap, while the comms link in your hand vibrated with panicked voices. Chaos.

Tech tried his best to get them out safely, but every new exit route he picked had a threat worse than the last. They were trapped.

"I'm trying Hunter, I'm trying!" he snapped as his fingers swiped back and forth on the holopad, desperately trying to find even the smallest chance of escape.

"I have an idea," you offered, but even if you had been allowed to have ideas, your words were lost amongst the chorus of yells and shouts through the comms.

"The hallway you came from is full of soldiers now, both stairwells are booby trapped with grenades, the back hall to the servant's quarters is on fire..." Tech was explaining as he did one more thorough sweep of the options.

What about the air vents? asked Hunter.

"They're being filled with venomous bees as we speak."

Jump out the windows? Echo asked.

"You're hundreds of feet up. No way to scale down. There's anti-air turrets that'll shoot down the Marauder as soon as I get it off the ground. And I'm pretty sure the glass is shatter proof anyway."

"I have an idea," you tried again, louder this time, but Tech waved a hand at you to be quiet.

The room's filling with water now! came a moan from Wrecker.

Hurry up Tech, Crosshair hissed. We're running out of time.

"I know!"

You'd never seen Tech lose his cool like this before. This really was a bad situation. It didn't even matter about the information the senator may have about your family. They could all die if you didn't act quickly. And seeing as Tech wasn't interested in hearing you out, you decided to waste no time arguing and just jump right into your own plan. You were fairly confident it would work. Maybe 60%. Which was better than your usual calculation of 50/50, and certainly more than anyone else was coming up with at the moment.

You jumped out of your seat and rushed toward the ramp. This got Tech's attention. He looked between your empty seat and the mayhem emitting from the technology in his lap a few times before finally running after you.

"What are you doing?" he asked just as you jumped onto the muddy ground of the forest you were camped in.

"I'm going to knock on the front door and ask them to stop hurting our friends," you explained, never breaking your determined stride. Thankfully you were parked close to the tree line, and then it was only a short walk across the lawn to the mansion.

Tech blinked. "What?"

You were already several paces away so he shook himself and ran to catch you.

"What?" he asked again as he spun you around by the arm. "That's your plan? Just asking them to stop?"

"I'll ask nicely," you shrugged. "They're not droids, they're people. So who knows, they might just listen."

"But that's not... You can't just... Wait..." Tech sputtered as you turned heel and began walking again.

"Or maybe they'll want to negotiate," you called over your shoulder. "It'd be better if you were there for that part."

You did pause, turning slightly to give him a questioning look, waiting to see if he'd follow.

Tech was dumbfounded. Asking the enemy to simply stop didn't follow any line of logic or reason. He looked down at the holopad he still had clutched in his hand, knowing it wouldn't show him any more hope than it had before. Five heat signatures - one for each of his friends and one for the senator - were huddled in the middle of a room that was trying every which way to kill them. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Nothing, except to listen to you.

"This is by far the stupidest plan you've ever had," he said, meeting your earnest gaze. He took in a deep breath, already picturing the lecture he'd get from Hunter for daring to entertain your idea. But what choice did he have? He cared too much to let them perish. And, if he was being really honest, he cared too much about you to really believe you were as dumb as they all said.

So with that, he turned off the holopad and squared his shoulders, ready to follow your lead, logic be damned.

"Of course I'll help."

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[gffa]

Hey Lumi! I’m watching The Bad Batch for the first time. Just finished the episode where Rampart is trying to get his bill passed and then Palpatine at the end manages to manipulate the situation so that even though the truth was told, the clones still lost. Rex at the end of the episode says something like “Palpatine was always one step ahead of us during the war and he’s several steps ahead of us now” I’m curious as to how much Rex knows about Palpatine and what actually happened. Because I don’t think he would know Palpatine is a Sith Lord but I think it’s obvious to many (or most) people in the galaxy that Palpatine was using the war as a way to gain total control over the galaxy. What are your thoughts on this?

This is an interesting question that I've been trying to figure out, because I don't recall anything that says for sure Rex knew that Palpatine was Sidious, but what they do know is: - Obi-Wan told Bo-Katan, Ahsoka, and Rex that the Council suspected, "Darth Sidious is the Sith Lord who orchestrated the Clone Wars and played both sides of it from the beginning." while they were on Mandalore. - Rex looked into what Fives was trying to uncover, he knew it went "all the way to the top" and at least suspected that Palpatine had to be involved given Fives trying to target him. - When Order 66 happened, they saw a holo-figure of Darth Sidious giving them the command, which triggered them calling him "My Lord". For the most part, Palpatine used a hologram version of himself for announcements and such, but he did make at least that one speech to the Senate in his true form during ROTS. - They knew that the Jedi had battled Palpatine, because he made the speech after the lightning scarred him, so why would the Jedi have gone after a politician? How could an ordinary politician stand up against a Jedi Master of Mace Windu's calibre? - Obi-Wan and Yoda know that Palpatine is Sidious because they saw the footage of Anakin swearing loyalty to him. While they wouldn't have been able to tell her directly, they almost assuredly told Bail, who may have passed on that information to Ahsoka. (Whether at Padme's funeral or another time?) Ahsoka could have told Rex after that, they were still in contact for many years afterwards.

Most likely, I think they both put the puzzle pieces together from the above--neither of them knew about Anakin being Darth Vader--and Rex's words in TBB episode could be (if I'm remembering right, I only saw it the once and haven't seen it since, so my memories may be fuzzy) theoretically be just as a politician, I think they all knew he was playing dirty even just as Palpatine to get himself into position as Emperor, but I think it's more that they just looked at all the puzzle pieces, saw him suddenly look like that hologram the clones got, and quietly put two and two together. If I've missed anything (entirely possible! it's a hazy question of who knows what at what point), feel free to jump in, but afair I'm not sure it's directly stated anywhere and I think either Rex just figured it out once all the pieces fell into place or the biochip in their heads had that information and, once triggered, all the clones knew it.

[notthestarwar]

Yes, I love the idea of Jango being very contradictory. I kind of hc the whole clone creation plan as him being very messed up after galidraan, the spice ship ect and just kind of losing himself to his anger and grief. He agrees to it, but then he kind of immediately knows he fucked up, like this goes against all he believes in, what has he done. But then, cause its Jango, rather than being like 'OH no I need to fix this' instead he's like 'admitting I betrayed myself is pretty painful, what if instead I did some mental acrobatics to convince myself this is OK and that my hand was forced and I had no choice' and then he keeps doing that again and again sinking deeper and deeper in to denial until he's almost forgotten who he was to begin with, he's forgotten that this goes against everything he believes in.

By the time we get to aotc I think that Jango is a)completely lost b)hates himself but won't admit that and c) is waiting to die. He thinks he's outlived himself.

He's just a ball of conflict and I think that results in some really contradictory actions. Like Boba, he loves Boba and yet he's really bad for him. He loves him too much to let him go. I don't think he really feels deserving of Boba, he's pretty sure that he'll fail him and yet, he was too 'weak' (human) to say no. He wanted a son so he took Boba even though he knew he wouldn't be around to finish raising him (in one of the versions of canon he sets up this really messed up plan in which he encourages boba to seek out dangerous hunters in the event of Jango's death, with the express intention of boba learning that vulnerability is dangerous). He loves boba but he has a weird way of showing it, that's just who he is!!!

Anyway so Jango is like super contradictory. I like the idea that he is fierce in his rejection of the clones. They are not people. They are not his. (This is a self defence thing. If they aren't ppl then he hasn't failed them) but then he completely blurs the lines because he forgets this. Sometimes he is proud of them. Sometimes he does see himself in them and acts before he thinks. Which results in the clones having weird feelings about him. I think they see him kind of like one would a dad, but a really really neglectful shitty absent dad. There's that sense of hating him for being less then you deserved but also being determined to impress him. Then there's boba, the child he wanted, who's exactly the same as you, no he's worse even! He isn't enhanced and you are! But still, Jango prefers him. What if they'd picked you? What if you were Boba?

I think some clones end up hating him and some end up idolising him and some, end up wanting to hate him but really struggling to do so.

I'm just kind of fascinated by Jango tbh. I want to put him in situations and poke at him. I want to unravel all the things he's lying to himself about. I think he sees a completely different reality to the rest of the universe and I think that's fascinating. I also think that like, there's an inevitability to him. None of this had to happen but it always would have because of who Jango is, because of what the galaxy made him and because of what he made himself in trying to run from reality. Jango is the ultimate, dead from the beginning. He's walking to his death and he knows it. He's haunted by who he could have been. He does not have it in him to do right by those he loves even tho he tries

[finalgirlkateausten]

bruised like violets

post-4x08 "the first ones". after that utter wreck of a mission, Jack refuses to take up infirmary resources when so many of his men are worse off than some chewed-up wrists. Sam won't let him get away with his silent self-punishment. TW for minor injuries, self-loathing, mentions of minor character death

The white bandages around Carter's wrists keep peeking out from under the sleeves of her BDU jacket. Jack keeps frowning down at them while he watches her, carefully disassembling her weapons and cleaning the rest of her gear. He's working on his own P90 right now, but it's slower going, when every snap of his wrist burns his skin, makes his eyes water a little. He doesn't mind though. The pain he'll sit through while the zip tie burns heal won't be anything compared to the soldiers who lost their lives to Goa'uld and Unas and the fire of friendly semi-automatics. Fraiser and her team have their hands full enough already; he can suffer a little until his cuts scab over.

He's returning his gun to the armory rack when he becomes cognizant of the presence at his shoulder. "Sir. You haven't gotten checked out yet?"

He looks over his shoulder at Carter. Big mistake, her blue eyes are searching and a little worried, and something hurts in his chest. "I got checked out enough to know I'm not a Goa'uld. They're busy down there, I don't need to be in anyone's way."

"You need to get your injuries seen to," Sam retorts, one eyebrow lifting.

Jack pulls back his sleeve from his left wrist, the fabric rough against the irritated skin. It almost feels like he's looking at someone else's arm, despite the fact that he can feel the tightness when he moves his wrist, the sting that's settled under the skin.

"I'll be alright," he mutters absently.

"Not if those cuts get infected," Sam says, her eyes boring into his. "I mean, really, sir, we were crawling around in the dirt on what is likely the home planet of the Goa'uld. D'you really wanna risk it?"

Jack stares at the floor. She can be downright pushy sometimes. "I'll live, Major," he grunts.

Still frowning, Carter turns away, returning to her pack. Jack gets a moment of relief to think she'll finish what she's doing and leave him to his silent self-flagellation, but then she pulls her field first aid kit out, carrying it back over to him. She inclines her head toward the bench, pulling out gauze, medical tape, and some cleanser. "Sit down."

He does. "Since when do you give the orders?"

Sam doesn't answer, instead pouring the cleanser onto a pad of gauze. He hisses when she begins to dab at the dried blood and barely-healing scabs on his right wrist.

"Daniel is safe," she reminds him quietly.

Jack winces, his stomach knotting at how quickly she's caught on to the storm whirling around his head. "Yeah, well, how about Rothman? Hawkins? The rest of SG-11?"

"SG-11 was dead before we even got there, Sir."

"It was the Goa'uld homeworld." He closes his eyes. Whatever she's doing burns even more now that the wounds are open again. "We got too comfortable. Thinking they'd all moved on to become dictators across the galaxy. I should've been ready for some kinda bullshit to happen."

"And I'm the one who's supposed to be able to sense them," Carter replies, an edge to her voice. "Yeah, we didn't know exactly what we were walking into. We never do. We did what we had to do to get home alive... sir."

He opens his eyes again. Looks at her. By now, he recognizes the blank expression she wears when the other option is folding in on herself and succumbing to tears. Without conscious thought, he turns his hand as she dabs neosporin on his wrist, locking his fingers through hers.

Are you ever going to call me Jack?

But saying that out loud would definitely not be leaving it in the room.

"Hey," he says, his voice rougher than he realizes, "what's the point of me being in command if you're going to beat yourself up too, huh?"

Sam doesn't quite smile. He wonders if she gets lost in his eyes sometimes, like he always does in hers. "At least I let Janet bandage me up instead of running off and hiding." She gently pries his fingers away, delivering a soft pat to the back of his hand before she layers gauze over his skin. His stomach flips.

"Must not've hidden very well, since you found me."

She does the thing where her bottom lip pulls briefly between her teeth. Jack shoves his free hand into his pocket as the idea of brushing his thumb over that lip crosses his mind. "I think sometimes you think you need to be alone when it's maybe not the best idea after all."

"Well." The pain in his chest has turned into a familiar but terrifying warmth, always Carter-induced. "I mean, good ideas are generally your purview. Not mine." He's glad when she wraps the final bandage over his wrist and moves onto his other arm. The gentle precision she's using is doing something to him, to his brain-- he shouldn't be alone in a dark room with her much longer.

"I dunno," she offers, administering the stinging cleanser once again, "honestly, a better idea would probably have been to drag you down to the infirmary instead of doing this here."

"You're more than trained for this," he points out. "It's just band-aids, really." Her fingers along the inside of his arm make him jump more than the ointment on his cuts.

Carter hums. "Not what I meant."

He knows. "I'm glad it's you," he says, even though he shouldn't.

She won't look at him now. "Teal'c would've been rougher. Faster, though."

"Teal'c wouldn't talk, either," he says softly, knowing she knows he doesn't mean that as a good thing. "And he'd leave me here, too. To my own devices."

Sam sighs. "I'm heading back to my lab once we're done here. If you want to listen to me explain quantum physics while I try to distract myself from writing that damn mission report."

"Hey," Jack protests, "Hammond told us all to take the night off." He doesn't wait for her protests about physics being stress relief for her. "We should at least go see if there's blue Jell-o in the commissary."

Finally, a smile. She glances up at him before finishing the layer of gauze and grabbing the roll of bandages again. "Or pie."

"Or pie," he agrees. "I mean, come on, is there anything food doesn't fix?"

"Flesh wounds," Carter says pointedly, tearing the bandage and tucking it into itself.

His hand twitches as he stops himself from taking her hand again. "Well, that's what I have you for." He stands up, bumping his shoulder against hers as she packs away the first aid kit. "Hey, look at that. We match."

Sam brushes her fingers over the bandages, her own more visible since she'd pulled up her sleeves to work. She hums, her fingers moving from bandage to skin. Jack holds himself very still, waiting as her touch ghosts from his palm back up to his forearm. He's surprised when she lets her hand land there, squeezing his arm once. "That's better."

"It is." He lays his hand over hers. "Thank you."

She's staring at him, and his heart is trying to escape his chest, and he wants to close the distance and kiss her but he's just so tired. For the thousandth time, he reminds himself to be content just knowing that she knows. That she maybe even wants to kiss him herself right now.

"Come on." She takes his hand and leads him out of the armory, letting go once they're in the open hallway. "Jell-O time."

They're alive. Daniel's alive. And he still has her, in the ways that really matter.

He looks down at their matching bandages and finally starts to feel a little better.

[melanie-ohara]

A Hunt For Gold - Chapter 2

Whumpuary2024, Bonus - Prompt: Rescue

Ahsoka sets dangerous events in motion

I accidentally made this almost 4,000 words, so I'm splitting into two angsty, angsty chapters

AO3 Here

The days were getting shorter. Sabine had been keeping track since they were stranded, and sundown was almost an hour earlier. She initially thought the cold was from heading north, but now she was sure winter was settling over Peridea. The lower the temperature dropped, the more restless and distant Ahsoka became. She spent days on her Howler, scouting the path ahead and looking for Baylan's trail into the mountains. Sabine had lost track of how many days ahead he was now, but she could feel Ahsoka's anxiety. Something was pulling her up that mountain, and she didn't understand what it was. 

To distract herself, Sabine focused on her armour. Once she finished applying the grey top-coat to the repaired metal she started sketching a new design with a pencil, drawing directly onto the matte grey surface. She could have done it with a holo - it would have been much faster and neater - but with her armour compromised Sabine felt she had to reconnect with the Mandalorians of old, and work on it the old fashioned way. Shin kept her company while she worked, sitting close and watching intently with wide, fascinated eyes. They ate together, and every so often Shin's hand would seek out Sabine's if it was free, and they would sit in a strangely comfortable silence. She liked to run her thumb along Sabine's knuckles, which made her smile every time.

"What about the other pauldron?" Shin asked, when Sabine had carefully outlined her Starbird sigil on the right shoulder plate. It didn't feel right to use the Republic's symbol any more, even if she had helped design it, not while they were a galaxy away. 

"I'm not sure," Sabine said. "In the old days, Mandalorians would claim signets. Something that affected them deeply, usually represented by an animal." She touched her finger to the metal and remembered the previous beasts that she had carried with her - a loth wolf, the strange bird Ezra saw whenever Ahsoka was around, and the purgill that had taken him away. Now she needed something new, and she was at a loss. 

"A Howler?" Shin suggested, shuffling her chair a little closer and putting her weight gently against Sabine's side. 

Sabine shook her head. "I don't know. I don't feel… connected to this place." Shin's hand found her own and Sabine smiled as their fingers intertwined. "Maybe I'll paint you there," she teased. 

"Am I an animal, then?" Shin asked, giving her a sideways look from under her hair. 

Sabine raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Oh yeah, definitely."

Before Shin could reply, Huyang's voice rang out over the speaker. "Lady Wren, there is a problem. Please come to the cockpit." There was an urgency in the droid's tone that Sabine didn't like, and she had a sinking feeling in her stomach as she hurried out of the workshop towards the cockpit. Shin followed her a few steps behind, like she was unsure she was invited. One backwards glance at her face was enough to tell Sabine she was thinking the exact same thing she was.

"What's happening, Huyang?" she asked as they reached the cockpit. She dropped into her seat before the droid had started to reply, and Shin hovered awkwardly by the door. 

"Ahsoka's comm unit is sending a direct ping to the ship, a half-second burst every six seconds," he said, calling up a 3D map of the mountain and highlighting the location of Ahsoka's comm. 

"A distress signal?" Sabine asked, getting more and more concerned. 

"Standard Jedi operating procedure is to initiate this protocol automatically, when the unit has been separated from its operator," Huyang explained. "It also transmits the previous ten seconds of captured audio."

"So play it," Sabine demanded.

Huyang hesitated. "I am not sure that Lady Hati - "

"Play it," Shin growled from the back of the cockpit. Even now, her tone sent shudders up Sabine's spine.

"Right," Huyang said. "Very well." His metal fingers clattered quickly over the interface for a moment, and then the sound of ignited lightsabers filled the cockpit. The hum was low and consistent, the sound of two opponents squaring off.

"I'm not here to kill you."

Sabine heard Shin draw a sharp breath and saw her stand up straight. "That's Baylan," she said. Sabine held up a hand to hush her.

"So put down the lightsaber," said Ahsoka. There was a change in the hum as one of them moved. Sabine felt her breath still as she listened. 

"We want the same thing, Ahsoka Tano." Baylan's voice was calm, measured, and assured. It was the same tone he'd used to convince Sabine to surrender on Seatos. "That's why you're here without your friend." 

"What is it that we want?" Ahsoka asked. It stung a little that she didn't correct him to say apprentice, but Sabine ignored that feeling. And focused on the lightsabers in the recording. They were still at rest, but it felt like they could spring into frenzied clashing at any second. 

"Allow me to show you." 

Ahsoka didn't speak for a few seconds, and then the sound cut out completely. 

"What happened?" Sabine demanded from the silence in the cockpit. 

"I do not know," Huyang admitted. "Ahsoka must have disabled her comm at that moment."

Sabine got out of her seat with a growl of frustration. "Damnit, Ahsoka! What happened to staying together?" Huyang turned in his seat to say something, but Sabine silenced him with a glare. "Do not answer that question, Huyang."

"We have to go after her."

Sabine turned, surprised that Shin had spoken up. She was still standing in the corner, wide eyed and more frightened than Sabine had seen her - more frightened than the day she had rescued her from the bandits that betrayed her and left her to die in the woods. 

"Baylan said there was power here," Shin continued, taking a step towards Sabine. "He was obsessed with it." She looked down at her feet and her voice dropped. "I'd never seen him like that before."

"What happens when we find her?" Sabine asked. Shin's jaw tightened and she swallowed, and didn't say anything. Sabine caught herself before she reached to put a hand on Shin's arm and instead took a half step back so she was out of her personal space. "You and Baylan are close, and I - "

"He's like a father to me," Shin interrupted, lifting her eyes to bear down on Sabine with a furious glare that almost made her take another step away. "And if he won't stop then we kill him." Before Sabine could even think of something to say, Shin turned and stormed out.

Sabine started after her, then stopped and turned back to Huyang. "Get us out to that signal source. The Noti will just have to manage without us for a while."

As Huyang laid in a course, Sabine went to find Shin. 

*

The temple Baylan led her to was carved into the side of the mountain. Above the entrance, great stone faces stared down at Ahsoka as she walked up the steps and snow swirled around her. It was undoubtedly Nightsister architecture, but it wasn't like anything she'd seen before. The style was different - where the ruins of Dathomir were smooth and curved, the Nightsister statues watching her were carved to be sharp, with teeth like knives and eyes like wounds. The Force was choked with strange emotions: fear, respect, certainty, control, pity. A billion parsecs from anywhere she had ever known, Ahsoka felt a strange pang of familiarity.

She had been here before.

"This is the place," she said.

"Yes," Baylan replied, even though it wasn't a question.

The darkness inside the temple wasn't absolute. Light spilled down from somewhere high above, but most of the illumination came from a shining inscription carved around a great circular door. Ahsoka had no idea how it was lit up, but it was bright enough to fill a room the size of the council chamber at the Jedi temple.

"You know, the old stories say this used to be a volcano," Baylan said conversationally, turning to look at her as she walked cautiously towards the door. His hands were clasped in front of him, and Ahsoka could see her lightsaber clipped to his belt alongside his own. "The ancient Nightsisters used all of its power to build this place." 

"It took a lot more than that," Ahsoka said. She had surrendered to Baylan not out of choice, but because something deep inside her demanded that she come here - that she return here - like a magnet drawn to a pole. She had given in to it for one simple reason, which was that she knew categorically that it wasn't the Force pulling her. It was something that had become a part of her, a very long time ago. 

"Do you need a translation?" Baylan asked, with a pointed glance at the glowing lettering. 

'A great and endless prison, for the great and endless. The way is shut to all who bear not my blood.'

"I know what it says." Ahsoka realised her mistake in coming too late, but there was still a slim chance Baylan didn't know that. "A pity there are no Nightsisters left to open the door for you."

Baylan smiled grimly. "You know I don't need a Nightsister." He took a few steps towards her, and Ahsoka firmly stood her ground. "Where is Morai?"

[charmwasjess]

10, 14 and 20 for ask game!

For 10: Is there a fic that got a different response than you were expecting?

All of them?!?! I write mainly in Dooku's Jedi era (pre-prequels? are we still calling it that?) and that was a super tiny part of the fandom back when the movies were actively coming out. It didn't seem possible anyone would care about it now, so having any readers is like... fucking AMAZING! I love each and every one of you DEARLY.

I'll also say, responses to my fics where I'm writing Dooku and Sifo-Dyas together has been interesting. I definitely lost a reader or two, which makes me sad, but I was really surprised and incredibly touched by the much larger positive response to it. Having been a queer person in the closet for a lot of my younger life, writing queer experiences openly is really cool to me.

For 14: If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

Answered a little bit of this here and here. :D

For 20: What’s a favorite title for a fic you’ve written?

I admit, I really like Milk Run. For those of you who haven't read it, in the fic, a "Milk Run" is a Jedi slang term for an easy lowstakes mission where nothing exciting happens. Dooku is recovering from an injury and so desperate to get out of the Temple that he'll take any mission - so he and Qui-Gon are assigned a classic good ol' Milk Run. Of course, this is wonderful because Dooku knows how to handle the most dangerous missions the galaxy can throw at him, but not how to sit still, and it's fun to write him doing things he's bad at.

It also gave me a thematic chance to explore a topic I love: Jedi working nontraditional Jedi jobs. Jocasta and Sifo-Dyas lives as Jedi who both serve the Order in less traditional "run in with your lightsaber out" roles. Jocasta obviously in the Archives, and Sifo-Dyas currently supervising a group of graduate students at a Jedi archeological dig site.

There's actually a snippet I love where Sifo-Dyas is trying to explain to Dooku that there are other ways to deal with a space pirate queen that kind of hits at the heart of the fic's Milk Run theme:

“She threatens you?” Dooku tried unsuccessfully to keep the outrage out of his voice. He couldn’t possibly follow Sifo-Dyas around for their whole lives finishing his fights for him. Even if he might still want to try.

“Not in a real way. It seemed like almost pageantry to her, or posturing. You know, her crew gets to see her face off with a Jedi, and I get to pull out my lightsaber and wave it around in front of the graduate students, all just good fun…I never thought she’d actually try something.” He scowled. “Especially not with the connivance of the asshole Arnet!

“Sifo…” The words "wave it around" were echoing surreally through Dooku’s head.

“I know, I know. I’m releasing my anger into the Force.”

“No, it wasn’t that…" In his own career as a Jedi, Dooku was occasionally called out to deal with especially troublesome pirates on missions that were more his typical, life-threatening dangerous style, decidedly not milk runs, or research on cultural sites. There was nothing of good fun or lightsaber-waving in the desperate violence of those encounters. “I was just going to say… your life… it is sometimes strange to me.”

“What, just because of the Queen Theo thing?”

“This situation where you and a space pirate recreationally antagonize each other for the entertainment of your subordinates is a fine example of what I mean.” Dooku scoffed. “Come to think of it, perhaps you ought to have slept with her after all. She might have been less inclined to eventually steal from you.”

“Oh, wow, so you know all about pleasing women now.”

Dooku shot him a venomous look. “I get by.”

Sifo-Dyas began to laugh. “I honestly don’t understand why people think you have no sense of humor. You’re completely hilarious.”

[valentinaonthemoon]

Tag someone you want to know AND/OR some of your besties.

I was tagged by @woofety, thank you!

Favourite colour: usually it's either lilac or dark red.

Last song: "First Love" by Nont Tanont, because I've literally just watched the My Precious movie and the theme song is stuck in my head. (link: youtube)

Last movie: My Precious, finally! I've completed the "You're the apple of my eye" trilogy. I have to say I think I liked the Thai more than the others, because the chaos made it really fun, but the original Taiwanese one made me cry way more (probably because the story was new to me when I watched it). I can't remember much of the Japanese version, tbh. But before this, I've rewatched Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind. (links: letterboxd)

Currently watching: Uh, okay, I have a google doc for that now. I'm following Taskmaster, its podcast, and the BBC Ghosts podcast too. I started The Great, and I'm almost at the end of the first season, but I think that I'll watch that while doing crafts, since that's in English and I don't have to read any subtitles while watching it. And also I'm waiting for other stuff to air, and I put on hold a lot of other shows.

Other stuff I watched this year: This is very easy to answer, as I'm compiling a masterpost on my sideblog, that I update every month! Check it out if you want: [https://www.tumblr.com/byebyelemonpie/724527825133109248/byebyelemonpies-2023-movie-and-series]

Shows I dropped this year/didn’t finish: I am very happy to drop series I don't vibe with, usually stylistic choices might bother me, or I'm triggered by something, or I don't care about the characters enough to continue watching. The Warp Effect has been praised a lot (and it did made me curious), but I just wasn't that comfortable watching it at times. A Boss and a Babe and Hidden Agenda, which I started because I had nothing else to watch, and they were just okay at the beginning, but I lost interest very easily with the passing of the episodes. I also watched the first episode of The Bear and I found it a bit too heavy for me at the time, so I might or might not revisit it in the future.

Currently reading: One day I'll link my Storygraph, but right now the books I'm actively reading are The Hitch-hiker's Guide to the Galaxy and my newest babie, Ghosts: The Button House Archives.

Currently listening to: I haven't had any musical obsession this year, which makes me wonder what will be of my Spotify Wrapped, since my most listened playlist is the one I turn on when I drive, and I still had no time to add or delete songs from that one.

Currently working on: adding new stuff to the Stuff To Do List while doing none of it and sleeping my stress off.

Current obsession: Does Cherry Magic Thai count? I've curated a thread on twitter about it for almost a whole year, so I guess that might do. (To be fair, when I started it, I thought they'd be way faster in producing the thing, but they're still working on it!) (link: twitter)

I'm going to tag, if they want to do this: my tag pal @pollodigitale, @2minutes2midnight, @agentofship, @cryingatships, and @the-eclectic-wonderer!

Thanks for reading if you did, and I hope you all have a lovely day 🌻

[ohlookapan]

BG3 and their fave classic novels (at least what i thought at 4am) Karlach: Frankenstein (she read it growing up and liked it but now it feels bittersweet when she rereads - but she feels like it makes the book better somehow now that she relates to it more) Laezel: Catch 22 Gale: The Great Gatsby or Hitchhikers guide to the galaxy Astarion: Catcher in the Rye (i dont know why it just feels right) Wyll: anything by Jane Austen (explains why he acts like a regency love interest) Shadowheart: Charlotte's Web (denies that she even knows it exists but she always cries when she reads it) Halsin: The Secret Garden Jahera: The Alchemist

These are all so perfect are you kidding me-

Your answer gave me a few ideas of ones I might change, but they're very few. I do want to share my thoughts on all your answers though because damn are they good and give me a buffet of food for thought.

Karlach: I'm actually furious I didn't think of Frankenstein, the symbolism is unfathomably perfect.

Lae'zel: She's always been a tough one for me to think of, so I'm so happy to hear Catch 22 as a suggestion. Honestly the phrase itself sums her (and Shadowheart) up pretty well; Either abandon your faith and start fresh (conveniently lost, if you will), or stay with a faith that you know or have an inkling might be morally wrong/deviant and have to live with it for the rest of your life. I love the idea.

Gale: Hitchhiker's Guide. No question. He's definitely the type to finish it in 2 weeks and secretly write fanfiction or self inserts for things and never tell anyone (maybe Tav or Astarion finds them and bullies him about it--but they can't judge since that's what daydreaming is for lol).

Astarion: Gatsby, which you suggested for Gale, is honestly a good one for Astarion. I definitely think he can relate to Jay--wanting to throw your life of pain and nothingness away to become something totally new and forget that old life of yours, no matter what the cost is--and think he definitely picked up on the queer-coding thing pretty fast (he believes it, I imagine). I think he could think of himself as Daisy does: "A beautiful little fool."

I also can see The Picture of Dorian Gray being a good one. I made a post about this in the past but I will never turn down an opportunity to talk about it; I feel like he'd be SUPER into Oscar Wilde and the way he views the world. To me, it fits his aesthetic and flowery dialect almost scarily well.

Catcher and the Rye though, definitely. He carries a worn out copy of that book EVERYWHERE. It's like a teddy bear to him. Maybe that's what he's reading all the time at camp?

Wyll: This is the best one, oh my Gods. I've never thought about it but now I can't unsee it during my playthrough. The almost flowery elegance he has is definitely Austen-coded. Beautiful.

Shadowheart: THIS. I definitely think Charlotte's Web boosted her love for animals, but I also think it helped her figure out her own personal thoughts about death, outside of Lady Shar's teachings. Given how much I think the book would impact and mean to her, I can totally see her naming a pet Wilbur or Charlotte.

Like Halsin, I think The Secret Garden also fits. Her love for Night Orchids, as well as the idea of there being something more out there than what meets the eye--something more beautiful than anything anyone could imagine, and something that completely takes your breath away and makes you forget about everything--is EXTREMELY appealing to her, I'd imagine. I like to think she notices Halsin reading it and walks a bit behind the group to talk about the book with him (lord knows the minute someone knows Shadowheart likes something so sweet like that, it's over for her (especially Astarion)--Gale though would totally keep it in mind and find a gold-foil copy for her).

Halsin: The idea of him sitting under a tree or something and reading The Secret Garden kills me in the best way. Maybe he's reading it out loud to ducks or squirrels (then the group hears him and gathers around for circle reading time because his voice is PERFECT for reading aloud (I think his VA even did an audiobook? Don't quote me on that though)).

Jaheira: Yes. Just... Unequivocally yes. Nothing more to say. The Alchemist is so accurate.

[ujimoo]

For Tonight, For The Weekend, Forever. | KSM [TEASER]

synopsis: going home for your childhood friend's wedding was the easy part, however, facing him was something else entirely.

pairings: seungmin x fem!reader, jisung x OC, chan x OC.

includes: past love, first love, angst, best friend!Jisung, weekend romance, heartbreak, second-chance romance. (maybe some I've missed)

WARNINGS (for the whole piece): mention of mature themes, suggestive - implied sex, but no actual smut. mature jokes (one death joke, sex jokes), drinking, mentions of eating and multiple restaurant 'eating scenes'. maybe more that I've missed.

word count (of teaser): 707

estimated word count of official fic: 25k (ish)

a.n. AAA this is the teaser for the longest fic I have ever written for tumblr. This original idea comes from the song Tis The Damn Season by Taylor Swift, however, as you'll be able to tell, it's changed a lot since the original idea. I have a larger more meaningful author's note for the actual fic, but to keep this short for now, I just want to say a big thank you to Galaxy from @plutominho. They've been a massive help through this fic and this wouldn't be finished or even half-written if it weren't for their help.

a.a.n. let me know if you want to be added to a tag list for when the official fic gets published!

Release Date: 25th December (hopefully)

permanent tag list: @soobin-chois @curlytxe @treetops68 @minniee-bear

FULL FIC NOW RELEASED

You weren’t sure how you ended up aimlessly wandering around at some house party. Gwen had dragged both you and Jisung there as a way to 'celebrate' the that it was the beginning of the final year, but she promptly went off somewhere leaving you and Jisung alone. That was until jisung saw something or someone and disappeared without you even knowing. 

Sure parties were fun, and you liked a good party now and then, but as you stood idly, on the front porch, hoping to catch a glimpse of either of your best friends, the party had lost its spark. 

The air was still cold and your knitted jumper did just a good enough job of shielding you from it, but even with your sweater paws, every now and then a shiver would run down your spine. You wondered if it would be a good time to walk home. Sure you knew, that it was dark and it was a dumb and dangerous idea to walk by yourself, especially without informing your two best friends, but even after an hour at least, you still hadn't found them. 

It was boring, you were bored. You just wanted to go home and find something to watch and prayed that you kept yourself warm enough so you didn't catch a cold. 

"You alright?" You jump at the sudden voice next to you and turn around to see Seungmin with a concerned look on his face. 

You knew Seungmin– well knew him a bit, you had had classes together all throughout high school, but something in you changed within the last year that made you look at him differently. You weren't sure what it was exactly, but something about him made your heart flutter. 

"I'm okay," you smile. "I lost my friends, I thinking of heading home." You laugh at your words. 

"On your own?" He asks and you nod in response. "But it's dangerous, what if something happens?" 

"Eh," you push your lips into a thin line. "What's the worst that could happen?" 

"A lot of things?" He responds to your rhetorical question.

Turning your body to face him, you smile. "I'll be fine, plus if you're worried so much you could always walk me back?" 

Seungmin blinks and the sides of his mouth lift into a smile, one that makes your own even wider. You shocked yourself at your own confidence, but what surprised you more was the fact he agreed. 

"Okay," he hums. "I'll walk with you." 

"You sure?" You ask, pointing casually at the front door. "Not worried about leaving the party so soon?" 

He shakes his head and motions for you to lead the way. "Nah, the party doesn't seem to compare now." 

The walk back with him was an experience like no other and Seungmin is almost charming, showering you with compliments. Saying how the walk back with you is more fun than he's had in the past hour and a half he had been back at the party. 

So when you slow down and stop outside of your house, it's sad. You didn't want to part ways with him just yet, this was the most you had spoken to him in one go, and you didn't want it to end so early. 

Turning to him once again, you smile. "Thank you for walking back with me." 

"Thank you for your company," he smiles. 

Looking up at him, your smile doesn't leave your face and his own seemed to mimic yours. 

You couldn't tell how long you had both been standing there, looking at each other, but just like the walk, you didn't want it to end. He steps forward, leaning his face closer ever so slightly and whispers. "Can I say goodnight?" 

Butterflies erupt in your chest as you question, "In what way?." 

“A special way, with your consent of course,” he responds.

He doesn’t wait for you to finish nodding.

Your first kiss with Seungmin is short and sweet and you can taste a hint of cola on his lips. 

It didn’t matter that you had nothing to compare it to, but something in your heart knew that you'd never want to kiss anyone else if it wasn't Seungmin's lips on yours.

[stacywaters]

Just Pretend (BEOMGYU) CH11 - The Moment I Knew

(Y/N POV)

Yesterday, I worried all morning and tossed and turned the night before, fretting what would happen to me and Beomgyu once we finished our presentation.

The presentation went well, but not me and Beomgyu.

Since I showed up that morning, he had been acting strange. I woke up early to do my makeup and hair, trying my best to look nice. My mom thinks it's because of the presentation. But really, it's because it was the last time we were forced to work together, and I hoped that if I could look good enough or sound smart enough, he would stick around.

However, he was distant the entire day. Like those pictures you see of the milky way galaxy, he seemed to be orbiting a whole other sun.

He performed well when it came to the slideshow, but I didn't see him again all day. It's like he was hiding. He had been dodging eye contact and muttering to himself since he got here. Was it something I did? I worry. I think back to me grabbing his hand earlier, shoot! I probably weirded him out and now he hates me, and, and... these nervous thoughts followed me all day, like the cherry blossoms in the spring air. Except far less pretty.

I practically ran to the front gates of the school. If I could see him just one last time before the weekend, maybe somehow I could... keep myself in his thoughts? He walked slowly from the classrooms, eyes down. When he finally looked up and saw me, he practically froze. Has he actually been avoiding me? What did I do?

I still smiled and ran over to him, "I keep forgetting that we don't need to work on our project after school today"

He gulped, "y-yeah" His eyes seemed to jump around, rarely meeting mine.

If I messed something up, I want to fix it! But how am I supposed to fix it if we never talk again?

"so, got any plans for the weekend?"

"Nope"

I went to prom with him (kinda), I talked to him once he lost his old friends, he helped me escape people that were bullying me, we've done this whole project together, how can we just move on as acquaintances after that?

"Then, uh," my mind raced as I tried to think of something we could do together, some excuse to meet up.

I looked at him again. He looked almost... agitated? He turned away and covered his face. I breathed a sigh. Then again, if he were to fall in love with me like I hoped, wouldn't he have by now?

"Then, I guess I'll just see you around"

He was still looking off somewhere. Maybe at someone else. Maybe at nothing at all, "Mhm"

I turned and began walking home. Once I was farther away, I felt tears start to well up in my eyes. I cried silently the whole way home.

Maybe it's stupid. Maybe I'm the one being unrealistic. But I really thought we had something, or maybe I just really believed we could've. I shouldn't have invited him to prom, it just made my feelings worse. And now I have to accept that we could've been, but we never will.

My feelings will just be fog on a window, obscuring my view but clear to him. My warm welcomes just melt at the hands of his cold gaze. And I'll have to be okay with that.

-----

I sip my warm latte, steam floating up and warming my face. I listen to the tap tap tap of the icy rain against the metal roof.

In this quiet morning, I just scroll through Pinterest. Saving photos of cute animals or funny memes. Just relaxing.

I hear something hit the window. I look out there, but I don't see much through the condensation on the glass.

Again, a knock. Is there some animal messing with the latch of the window? A squirrel that went a bit crazy?

The sound continues, so I finally close my phone and unlock the latch of the window to see what is going on.

"What is-"

I freeze in my spot at my desk. My eyes now wide and glassy.

Soaked from the rain. Eyes red; he's been crying for a while now. Hair all messed up. A slouch to his posture, shoulders weighing him down. Arms flat at his side. A pleading look.

"I didn't know where else to go," he mumbles.

A roar of thunder. A flash of lightning. A shiver as he stands before me. I'm still so shocked. I was worried I'd never see him again, but here he is. And that was the moment I knew, for sure this time.

This was real.

I finally call to him, "Beomgyu?"