#finally drew too much fellas my use has been exhausted

[tenshindon]

wdym korn edits with one hand whats wrong with the other one

Carpal tunnel <3

[deniigi]

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

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

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Title: impossible scenario

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

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

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

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

“Spidey?”

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

“Spidey.”

“I got it,” Peter sighed.

The gal tsked.

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

Peter sighed.

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

There was a pause.

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

Twink. Got it. Thank you, citizen.

“There are websites for that shit, Spidey.”

Bye now.

“Apps, even.”

Bye, bye.

“BetterHelp or Headspace or somethin’—”

“Two blocks, you said?” Peter asked.

 --

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

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

That left snark and violence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Luke.”

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

“Keep your voice down, oh my god.”

Peter was just standing here, fellas.

“Luke.”

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

God, what a mood.

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

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

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

“Kid.”

“ME.”

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

“Sure am,” the puddle of ooze hummed.  

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

“Is that?” someone whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Luke, please. Please.”

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

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

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

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

“You mean that?” Luke asked him.

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

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

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

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

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

MMMMMMM.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, Han,” Luke said.

Ha.

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

“Luke. Back me up.”

“Why should I?”

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

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

Han sighed.

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

“Not here.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Luke.”

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

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

“I mean it,” Luke said.

Oho.

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

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

Bye, bye.

“This galaxy needs you, Luke.”

Peter stopped five paces away.

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

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

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

“Shut up,” Luke said.

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

“Stop.”

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

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

“Luke. Listen to me. Please.”

“Maybe there’s a chance—”

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

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

His stomach turned.

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

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

Luke was crying.

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

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

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

  --

It was weird.

It was just weird.

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

Luke.

Han.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only one.

  --

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

NL: no promises but go on

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

NL: fascinating

JS: Say more

PP: who let you in here?

JS: you?

PP: SECURITY

NL: Peter say more

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

MJ: yeah?

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

MJ: what kind of breakdown

JS: he thinks he met Luke Skywalker

PP: Security has failed me. God?

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

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

JS: nicknames?

PP: I—

PP: oh my god nicknames

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

JS: 😊

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

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

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

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

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

JS: yes I will come search your body imminently

MJ: my job storm, back off

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

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

PP: ikr?

NL: lol imagine if they were serious

MJ: don’t say that

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

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

PP: BUT WHAT IF THEY WERE?

MJ: cue breakdown

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

PP: ned I’m freaking out

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

PP: deeply

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

PP: NO

MJ: on it

JS: can I join?

NL: no johnny

MJ: no johnny

PP: 😭

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

  --

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

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

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

 --

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

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

Ned was perfect.

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

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

“Uh-huh. Keep going.”

Peter didn’t want to.

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

Fine.

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

“Keep going.”

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

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

73%.

“Uh-huh.”

“Thanks, Wade.”

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

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

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

No.

“What’d he look like?”

Peter groaned.

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

“I’m onto you, Skywalker.”

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

He stared at the edge of his keyboard.

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

 --

 PP: sam

SC: yeah?

PP: do you like star wars?

SC: nah

PP: you’re perfect

PP: do you believe in past lives?

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

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

SC: I don’t think about those people

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

SC: Buddha

PP: not buddha

SC: is this a riddle? Is it Jesus?

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

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

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

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

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

 --

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

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

Thor blinked at him.

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

Thor lit up.

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

…yes…

Say more, Thor-man.

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

…yes.

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

Peter felt his own grin twitch.

“So it’s not impossible?” he asked.

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

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

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

“Can I borrow one of you?” he asked.

 --

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

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

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

Thor glanced around and shrugged.

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

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

“Same,” Thor said.

Damnit.

“Perhaps you are—”

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

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

There.

Across the way. Chipmunk, no stripes.

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

“Got ‘im,” Peter hissed.

“No shit?” Wade asked over his shoulder.

Thor made a sound of interest.

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

Wh—

Peter whirled on him.

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

 --

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

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

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

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

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

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

Peter froze.

“Oh. Sorry,” he said.

This time, Luke finally met his eye.

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

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

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

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

Peter watched him go.

“Catch?” Wade asked softly from the corner.

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

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

“Someone’s building something,” he said.

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

“Nope,” Peter said.

 --

 NL: That is a lightsaber hilt

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

PP: I stole it

NL: give it back

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

NL: Peter.

NL: we talked about this.

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

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

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

NL: and if not?

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

JS: UM

JS: SORRY

JS: PETER CAN YOU CALL ME?

PP: no

NL: no

MJ: no

JS: are

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

NL: …

PP: …

MJ: …

PP: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

MJ: fake

NL: no way

PP: WHAT’S HIS NAME, JOHNNY BOY????

JS: I can’t

PP: nope you gotta

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

MJ: out with it

NL: please say it’s obi-wan

JS: HHHHHHHHHHH

JS: nope

JS: just a guy named Ben 🙃

PP: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

PP: I told you motherfuckers

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

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

 --

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was right the other night.

He wasn’t the only jedi. Not anymore.

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

“I’m going to cry,” Reed announced.

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

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

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

“The real empire,” Reed whimpered.

Wait.

No, go back.

“For real?” Peter asked.

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

 --

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

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

But it had shattered them—both of them.

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

He’d walked it before.

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

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

He wriggled in close enough to bonk heads with her.

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

  --

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

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

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

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

He recruited Ned to help him locate Luke Skywalker.

That didn’t work.

They tried Luke Naberry.

That didn’t work either.

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

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

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

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

Luke’s Instagram was nothing but pictures of coffee.

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

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

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

“Maybe he works nights,” MJ said.

Ned lifted an eyebrow.

“Maybe this is his job,” he said.

There was a pause.

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

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

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

He had to find him now.

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

 --

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

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

Peter left Louis to rattle sense into her.

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

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

Ned was about to flip a table.

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

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

“So she’s a friend,” he said.

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

Great. Peter was approaching.

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

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

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

She frowned at it.

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

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

Luke’s friend stared at him.

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

Wow.

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

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

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

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

“You again?” Luke said.

Peter lifted his head and brows.

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

There was a long silence.

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

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

Mmm. Beginner’s luck.

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

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

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

Nice.

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

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

 --

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

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

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

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

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

LS: it’s not coke

PP: I’m not judging

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

PP: ah, no, sorry. I didn’t see it

PP: OH NO

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

LS: I

LS: what’s your name?

PP: Peter ❤

LS: Peter, you have a fucking problem

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

PP: well you got me

PP: to talk

LS: about what?

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

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

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

LS: I

LS: wh

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

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

LS: how would you know?

PP: what are you, a cop?

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

PP: To. Talk.

LS: I’m not going to talk to you.

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

 He held his breath.

 LS: I didn’t

PP: you did

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

PP: Man 😊

LS: Man what

PP: That’s my last name.

LS: Peter Man.

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

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

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

 Come on, Skywalker. Come on, remember.

 LS: I never asked you to rescue me.

PP: You did. Think back.

LS: I didn’t

LS: I just made a joke to

LS: WHAT AFAJSDFA DTTH E FUCK

 Peter cackled and let himself fall onto his back.

 PP: Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii ❤

LS: YOU’RE

PP: Just your friendly neighborhood guy ❤

LS: YOU

LS: you

PP: me

LS: THAT’s how the storms knew you

PP: yep 💋

LS: I don’t even know what to say

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

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

PP: it’s my job

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

PP: yes

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

PP: harder daddy

LS: ADaaSDASFSDFSdd

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

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

PP: I’ve got……………………..sticky fingers

LS: go die

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

 Peter’s cheeks were starting to hurt.

 PP: I’ll bring them back to you.

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

PP: you mean obi-wan?

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

PP: where do you live?

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

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

 --

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

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

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

“Made friends, I see,” he said.

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

“Insidious.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We should have named you ‘Sith.’”

“Ben.”

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

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

T-two?

“The other one is Junior.”

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

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

“Oh, it’s these people again?”

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

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

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

He vanished. Luke grimaced after him.

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

 --

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

Coffee, yes, how had Peter forgotten.

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

“A seeing stone,” Ned whispered to him.

“Oh, how did you know?”

They all jumped.

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

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

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

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

They all stared.

“Can you teleport?” MJ asked him.

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

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

Luke stared at him.

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

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

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

“More television.”

“That’s what I thought.”

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

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

Ah.

Fair was fair.

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

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

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

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

Luke gave him a weird brow.

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

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

Anakin? Like, Darth Vader, Anakin?

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

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

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

Luke deflated and moaned into his hands.

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

It sounded like it.

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

What a trip.

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

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

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

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

Yikes.

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

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

Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh, yeah.

Yeah, Peter sure had done that.

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

Perhaps.

But Luke had blown up the Deathstar, no?

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

Mmm. Perhaps so.

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

Peter gawked.

“I’m 27,” he said.

Luke did a double-take.

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

“By the Force?” Ned asked hopefully.

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

“The Force,” he said.

Ned’s face fell.

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

Luke flinched.

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

“You lost Yoda,” MJ mused.

Luke stammered and caught himself.

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

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

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

Peter stirred his coffee nervously.

Luke’s eye twitched.

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

MJ frowned deep and held her chin with both hands.

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

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

Luke covered his face in despair.

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

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

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

“The other Cody.”

“Oh, I am trying, don’t you worry.”

“Ben, so help me God—”

“Force.”

“SO HELP ME FORCE—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Er.

No.

Sorry?

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

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

Luke took a deep breath and let it out.

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

Yeah, okay. Sure. Peter could respect that.

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

Understood.

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

Luke just stared at him coldly this time.

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

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

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

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

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

“I am, actually,” he said.

 --

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

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

“Haven’t,” MJ said. “Who is he?”

“My husband,” Luke said.

Ned choked.

Peter choked.

MJ tilted her head.

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

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

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

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

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

Hang on a minute here.

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

“Din,” Luke said. “Din Djarin.”

Ned cringed.

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

That—

Okay, so like.

Did these people own a TV?

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

UH?

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

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

“Why do you ask?” Luke asked.

Ned cleared his throat.

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

 --

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

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

Maybe Obi-Wan?

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

“LOOK AT HIM.”

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

“You knew where he was.”

“Alright, alright. Downward march.”

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s up in the kitchen, Luke.”

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

“This is Basic.”

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

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

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

“We don’t have time,” Luke snapped.

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

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

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

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

“Ahsoka went home,” Luke said.

“Thank you, that was not my question.”

“What was your question?”

“Why are non-order humans here?”

“I told you, Ahsoka went—”

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

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

There was a long stare.

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

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

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

Vader rounded on Peter, and Peter actually felt fear.

Vader blinked once.

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

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

“Negative, ghostrider.”

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

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

“Thanks, Dad.”

“Anytime, primary monstrosity of my loins.”

UM?

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

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

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

 --

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

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

Uh-huh. Good night, sir?

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

They hadn’t given their names.

They definitely hadn’t given their names.

 --

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

“That family is cinematically dysfunctional,” she said.

Correct.

“They’re barely their own characters.”

Correct.

“What now?”

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

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

 --

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

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

That was worrying.

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

He texted Luke again.

 PP: how many nails do you have left bro?

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

PP: that don’t sound great bro.

LS: it’s fine. Oh, but good news

PP: oh?

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

PP: that’s worrying

LS: ? why?

PP: won’t he go dark?

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

PP: I truly don’t know what to say

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

PP: I know less what to say

LS: he won’t find din :/

PP: is that your priority right now?

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

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

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

 That sounded like a horrendous decision.

 PP: yeah let me get you his number.

LS: thanksssss

  --

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

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

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

Peter wondered if that was his personal hell.

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

 --

 Another two weeks. Another text.

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

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

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

LS: preschool teacher.

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

 PP: was that your calling?

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

PP: you honestly terrify me

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

PP: no shit??

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

PP: I’m

PP: sorry

PP: what?

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

PP: dare I ask what your sister does?

LS: lawyer

PP: not senator?

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

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

LS: because I’m sexy yeah

PP: that too

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

PP: how’s that going for you?

LS: Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

PP: I see. So no Din yet?

LS: I will find him if it kills me

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

LS: that’s my son you piece of shit

 There was no winning here.

 --

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

Obviously he hadn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  --

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Luke took his coffee and poured it down the drain.

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

  --

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

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

That was what they currently had to go on.

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

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

He stared at the screen before him and vibrated.

Peter massaged his shoulders before he cracked.

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

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

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

  --

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

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

He lost his shit.

Louis tried to retain his shit.

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

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

Dave changed his opinion and took a stack.

  --

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

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

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

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

Wade screamed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wade whistled.

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

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

“So what now?” he asked.

Wade sniffed.

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

  --

PP: Luke are you pretty right now?

LS: My face is intact

PP: take a selfie and send it to me

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

PP: it doesn’t matter I can crop it.

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

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

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

 Selfie acquired.

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

They waited.

They waited five minutes.

Then ten.

Then half an hour.

Then nearly two.

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

“Hello?” Wade said.

There was a long pause.

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

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

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

“What do you want?” he finally asked.

Wade brought his head down in interest.

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

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

“Anything.”

Ah.

Okay. That.

That sounded about right.

Wade cackled.

“You know his name?” he asked.

“I do,” the man said.

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

“It’s none of your fucking business.”

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

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

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

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

  --

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

He was not afraid of Wade.

He was not afraid of Peter.

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

“Vigilantes,” he acknowledged.

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

“Grogu,” Djarin said.

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

“Tell me everything,” Djarin said.

  --

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

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

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

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

Grogu perked up and reached for it again.

“You’re the Mandalorian,” Ned said.  

Djarin looked right at him.

“A Mandalorian,” he corrected.

Ned blinked back tears.

“You’re so cool,” he creaked.

Djarin frowned.

“You...are too?” he tried.

Ned wept into a fist.

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

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

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

“Are you sitting?” he asked.

“I’m sitting.”

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

“Say hi,” Peter said.

Djarin frowned at him and then the phone.

“Who’s that?” he asked.

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

“Hello?” he tried.

“Din?”

The Spidey Sense crashed through Peter like a tidal wave.

Djarin had gone completely still.

“Din? Is that you? Can you hear me?”

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

“DIN.”

“Dank Fucking Farrik.”

“Oh my god.”  

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

“Bu?” he asked.

Djarin couldn’t make himself move.

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

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

He pointed at the phone.

“Yeah, I hear ‘im, kid,” Djarin said.

“MMMMM. Gib.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Grogu screeched.

Luke laughed.

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

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

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

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

Djarin found a watery smile in himself.

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

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

“I know,” Djarin said. “I lost it.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Luke.”

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

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

Luke shook harder than ever.

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

“This is the Way,” Luke stammered.

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

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

“In the Bronx? Where?”

“Uh, off Allerton and Lurting?”

Djarin started shaking with laugher.

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

“You what?”

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

Awwwwww.

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

Djarin stood up and held the phone out straight.

“Where are you right now?” he asked.

  --

Look at all these people hugging each other.

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

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

“Wait. Peter.”

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

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

Yeah.

Sometimes, he did.

 --

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

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

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

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

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

   --

[rebelliouslala]

Jung Hoseok

You were so fucking late my guy lmao

you’re in your second year

late to your first day

even tho u JUST transferred

u slept in, you were so exhausted from unpacking

That as you were skateboarding

yes ur that quirky hehe

You crashed in a crowd of students, and heard a loud scream

You look up to a man in baggy clothes, and with a skateboard wheel mark on his face, he pouts

“HEY-?”

“I’m so sorry! It’s my first day!” you look around, sighing and grabbing out your animation card, before running to math class, “just call me and I’ll pay!”

So you finally made it to animation class

luckily it’s just drawing the first thing you ever drew

Yes this is why u take art

it’s easy

so u draw and draw and draw and draw and draw and draw and

Then, as you left

You’re grabbed by the shirt behind the building

u scream and take out your mace before the person lets go

“Ah ah ah ah okay! Sorry, i just, wanted to say im okay now”

the boy from earlier has his face a little moist, the tips of his teddy brown hair dripping wet

“My name is hobi”

“oh, mine is y/n, nice to meet you, and again, sorry”

“Ah, dont be, actually you should say sorry to my tip hat, i was dancing for money”

you look at him in awe, “dance?”

he nods, and he quickly spins before landing on his knee and one leg splayed out

you widen your eyes and clap, “w-wow. . .you’re. . .good”

he smiles and chuckles, “yeah, thanks, so, about that favor”

“You better not be a fucking-,” you grab for your mace again

“what? OH! N-No! no, i wouldnt do that. just, well, i was wondering if you could help me”

you lower your guard only slightly, “for what?”

He smiles, “i wanna shoot a music video, but it’s kind of hard because i want a characters, I saw your website, you do animation! So, can you help me out?”

So eventually he gives you his number, and to him yours

Thats when usually you did some stalking

He’s all around a great fella

yes i fucking said that

he dances, plays tennis and is one of their best players in, quiet possibly the whole country?

he’s in the top five

he helps out charity, he’s part of a frat, even raps sometimes for slams at this cafe?

yes u visited

But u kinda didnt like it

You did see his thing though, and snapped

it was good, but you much preferred him dancing, he seemed much more energtic

you go to him to the mv shoot

Holy fuck

He has wavy, light brown hair that shapes around his forehead in the shape of a heart, and a bright smile

Obviously he���s been drinking sprite

He has loose, green tie-dyed fashion pants

And a flower embroidered shirt that was half tucked in

he has brown sunglasses

Wow so handsome~

u gulp and he gently bounces

“well?!”

“Well, i think you look good, hobi”

He INSISTED you call him by his nickname

“Thanks! So, what do you think for the concept?”

“I think. . .i can do flowers, we are, i guess, in like a forest setting? What do you want?”

He looks at your eyes finally “sorry i did the thing where i zone out--”

“hobi. what do u want for ur mv”

“idk, i think whatever u think is good :)”

U pout because goddamn he’s cute

So u say fuck it and nod

You watch him dance

Around

Im not saying on im saying fucking

AROUND

Flowers

Barely brushing past them

Until at the last part of the video, where he “rises from he dead off the ground”

he lays back, and uses his core to bring him up all the way to his feet

On his human elevator ride up, he picks up a pretty piece of calandiva nearby him

And putting it near his jawline; he softly pants

yet smiles oh so sweetly at the camera

Okay that was kind hot

You leave a little quickly

and u cant get ur mind off of how

ADORABLE

his pout was

and just how talented he is????????

you’ve never been this whipped for a boy

especially since u dont rly trust men

U pull maybe two all nighters

With a small nap in between the days

dont do this or i will eat u okay

So ur like barely alive the next time you see him, and you sigh softly

“ok. . .done”

You go to his studio in his frat

which is just filled with stuffies

fluffly ones

and miniature collectible toys

You sit on the couch, resting your eyes as he watches

u drew a little horse characters besides him, dancing as well

whenever he smiled, the horse did too and did a flip, more intricate and detailed flowers popping out

At the end, the horse gently shrunk, and ran up to Hobi and kisses his cheek, and once he smiles

The horse fainted onto the flower, hearts fluttering over her

Just overall big uwu

and he couldnt believe how amazing it looked, especially in under

t w o d a y s

“y/n. . .i cannot thank you enough you really-,”

hoseok looked over to you

asleep

after maybe a nice 14 minute nap, you wake up to a small bounce of your body

and there is hobi

you in his huge, and very soft green hoodie

and your body very heavy in his arms, yet he still carried you all across campus back

back home

“hobi?”

you rub your eyes, pouting slightly

trying to see if this was a dream to the one of you doing flips with hoseok

and yes

yes he uwued

“Yeah? He asked quietly, gently sitting on a bench to collect yourself

and that he also wanted to see how cute you are waking up

“W-what did you think?”

“I thought it was wonderful, and how you did it in only two days? You’re so talented.”

“Mm. . .” you say quietly, exhaustion still covering you like a blanket

Hoseok chuckles and kisses your head, letting your eyes flutter

“ur so nice. . .hobi. . .i-i cant believe someone. . .a-as pretty as you. . .” your voice drifts off as you knock out

“I like u too, y/n” he only responds, letting you fall right back into his lap and stroking your hair

[awakeningofthedeath]

Awakening of the Death: Chapter #26

WARNING: NSFW

Jack sat upon the chair closest to their bedroom window, sipping upon a cup of coffee, even upon a hot summers day. The cool early morning breeze was a welcoming greeting upon his naked body, with only a drop of a towel to cover his manhood. He thought about the memory he had of Jeremiah, the master assassin, the father of Hellen, wanting to take Jack to America. He wondered about how his life could of been different if it were the case; yet, as he watched the rising sun’s rays stretch to the body of the sleeping beauty in his bed, those would diminish.

For a long time, Jack would study a comparison between Jeremiah and Hellen. Turned out she had inherited the same strong cheek bones and nose. Her hair and body type must’ve come from her mother. The deep red brown hair shone like fire within the morning light, making the light in his life shine more brighter.  Her face, like Jeremiah’s could express her thoughts out loud, and showed that she too suffered some hardships. Though unlike her father, the war she fights in still to this day made the Civil War look more like a skirmish to Jack. But who was he to judge? He never knew much of the confections of a nation that formally tore itself apart in the matters of slaves, freedom, government, and territorial nonsense. Least, that was what Jack used to think of the war before meeting Hellen.

During his time with the Dark Horses, he managed to talk to a few members who were veterans or had family members who served. As Jack heard the stories and witnessed the results of them in the midst of post-war America, he wished he could take all he thought originally back when he was a young lad. He softened wondered what it was like to be a child to long for a parent to come home alive from the war. To Jack, it was as equally dangerous being a worker girl in London as it was being a soldier in the war. And now that he figured out the connection between the Patterson’s and himself, Jack wanted to know more.

Hellen started to awaken from a deepened sleep, possibly from after the rough and pleasurable sex that they both had the night before. One that still seemed so fresh in Hellen’s mind.

The night before, Hellen and Jack returned home with very little information of McGriffin’s actions nor whereabouts.

Hellen was wearing a long braid, it swinging along her back as she moved, making longing to take control of her. As she undressed, in front of him, he too striped as he came from behind her and grabbed the red braid. Hellen gasped in surprise when a light tug came in, and a strong hand pulled her towards Jack’s broad chest. She could feel his hardened manhood pinning her, and his right hand stroking her hip and inner thighs as he placed kisses on Hellen’s shoulders.

“Inpatient, are we now?” Hellen smiled.

“Speak for yourself. Your wet enough to be bathed in.” Jack’s fingers explored in areas that made Hellen shiver. His two fingers explored the wetted area of Hellen’s secret temple as he continued to kiss and  give light bites upon her neck as he inserted the snake in her. She turned her head snatching his lips upon hers, their tongues dancing to the rhythm of their love making. This was the first both ever made love to this position; yet not strangers to experimenting different positions. Hellen and Jack had to focus on making sure neither of them come falling to the ground, relying on one another for support until they climaxed, and when Hellen came undone, she arched backwards towards Jack, screaming for him until his lips captured hers. He slid out of her gently, and when even himself was worn out from the long day and sudden sex, Jack swooped the tired woman off her shaking legs, and carried her to their bedroom. Along the way, Hellen noticed her braid undone, and hair ribbon tie in between Jack’s long fingers on his left hand.

“What are you staring at Jack?” Hellen asked, covering her chest with the sheet. She only covered herself as of late due to a pair of young eyes of immigrant boys spying upon their love making one morning. To which fortunately Jack’s imitation scared them off their roof. “And what are you thinking about?”

“Only how beautiful you look in the morning light.” Jack hoisted himself up, the cloth on his manhood fell to the floor, revealing to Hellen how hungry Jack was at that moment. He knelt in front of Hellen close to the bed, taking Hellen’s hand and placing it on his lips for a light kiss. Hellen quietly huffed and held his face with her hands allowing the sheet to fall from her chest showing her breasts, lightly pulling him in for a longing morning kiss. But as their lips prepared to dance, a knocked interrupted them. Jack groaned, placing his forehead on the bed.

“It’s Hans, isn’t it?” Jack’s voice muffled in the sheets, He felt Hellen’s fingers in his hair giving it a light massage.

As if on the marks, the member’s voice, Hans called out. "Sorry for interrupting boss, but we need you now. If you are ready we will wait for you at main hall"” They heard the footsteps of Hans leaving the hallway.

Jack again gave a long breath. Hellen chuckled, seeing Jack wanting to leave the comfort of their bed just yet. She grabbed a pair of his pants and draped it on his shoulder. “Come on Jack... we have Templar bastards to kill.” She laid on her chest to have eye contact with Jack. With two fingers she lifted his chin and stole a kiss from Jack. When they parted, “You better put your clothes back. Our rooks didn't want to see you naked." Hellen teased.

. Jack will rolling his eyes "Or I will got into a trouble again"  Jack got himself up and started to dress

“We both will Jack. Your stuck with me for life”

As Jack put on a clean shirt, he turned and gave a hidden smile “So you know...I’ll be hungry for you little mouse”

“Be patient Jackass. Tonight, if no urchins peep a tom on us, then you’ll be mine and I yours.” Hellen gave a wink.

Jack left, with clothes upon his body, to follow Hans to the closest the living spaces. This building was an old pub that was less active during the day time with a large room in the back for larger groups. The groups gathered upon a set of four square tables pushed together to form a larger one. Jack sat himself upon an empty seat next to another reserved for Hellen when she arrives.

The Dark Horses were a band of immigrant men and (few) women of nationalities. The highest population among them were Irish, Russian, and Scottish origins. From the stories that Jack had gathered in his journey, he found most of them had come to America to escape a variety of persecutions and new opportunities. The most common were the Russian-Jews to escape discrimination. One man fled his hometown when raided with what money he owned, the violin that belonged to his papa, and the clothes on his back. Curious about the violin, Jack wondered if Hellen played on the Russian’s violin that night which seemed like yesterday to him.

When Hellen finally arrived fifteen minutes after Jack’s arrival, she sat next to Jack with a swiftness that was always quiet. Jack felt Hellen’s hand upon his lap, making small circles with her thumb and index finger. He cleared his throat, which drew the attention to all the members. Quickly going into a strait position, Jack addressed to the crowd, “From what I understood from Hans is that you have new information about McGriffin.”

Hans turned his head towards a man of German stature. “Ben had been courting a young woman who happens to be one of the maids of the McGriffin manor and has neglected to mention it.”

“Probably too busy following the bosses example.” One member chuckled only to be silenced by Hellen’s glare.

“Anyways, Ben has found that McGriffin has talked to a bunch of up en summing archeologists and language scholars to locate a location relating to a location holding an...” Hans turned to the german man again. “Ben, you sure it was like you said.”

“Yes” The german responded in an exhausted tone, as if he was asked that question repeatedly.

Groaning, Hans looked to Jack and Hellen as if he didn’t want to bring the news. “The maid mentioned that McGriffin was looking for the Elixir of life.”

The room went silent for a moment, then a few members burst out into laughter. Jack, Hellen, and Hans were the only individuals who didn’t laugh. It was a matter of fact that Jeremiah thought about something relating to the elixir when he read the torn page whilst tending to Hellen a month back. Whilst the men mocked Ben, Jack eyed Hellen and nodded.

Hellen cleared her throat in attempt to draw the attention to the dark horses, yet they continued to mock and make fun. It wasn’t until Hellen made a louder coughing gesture that got the groups attention.

Hellen shifted in her chair as she addressed the group. “So, I have a feeling this ain’t no Sunday School meeting, so give me something good fellas. Fantasy or not, anything relating to McGriffin is a damn good information. So, what else did you find Fritz.”

“My name is Ben.” The German corrected, hating the nickname that Hellen would often refer to him. Even Jack would lecture at Hellen for making such names for the man. “And to answer the question, the maid, she mentioned that McGriffin needed to find the Elixir soon. Saying about, the power of long life. The men from the museum said that they were missing a page. No...not missing...one page of the manuscript was destroyed when a man named Jeremiah Patterson destroyed the manuscript pages...”

“Hold the...” Hellen  stood in her chair causing it to fall onto the ground. Jack too was widened with surprise hearing Jeremiah’s name. “You said Jeremiah Patterson?”

“Yes. I assumed he was a relation to you.” Ben’s eyes widened with nervousness as he looked at Hellen’s stance.

“Damn well is. He’s my pa! What did he had to do with this?!”

“Hellen, sit down!” Jack whispered as he pulled her arm.

“No Jack! I need to know more!” Hellen’s hands were shaking as she kept looking towards Ben.

“They said that the manuscript pages where destroyed when last seen with a woman named Alice stole a sole copy. Jeremiah seemed to of destroyed them, yet one museum man said he found traces of vanishing or invisible ink upon the corners. Now McGriffin, he is trying to find every assassin that fought with Patterson to find the copies.”

“Thats why Collin was kidnapped?” Hellen exclaimed. “And is that why McGriffin...” Hellen’s eyes began to sting with tears. “That’s why McGriffin...”

Jack sensed that Hellen’s face threatened to break into tears as she pulled away from Jack’s grip and walked out of the room.

Jack stood up, and as he looked towards Ben, “Benjamin! Did they, the men, mentioned anything else about the manuscript and why they need that location.”

“Something about an underground location of where the hidden elixir was. Somewhere near or under central park.”

Jack nodded and headed out the room to try to find Hellen, ye he knew where she would go.

Climbing the roofline of the McGriffin Manor, Hellen located a room with an opened window. As she made every quiet step, she could hear her inner voice screaming how foolish it was to break in during the day. Now, she was a woman who was on the road of vengeance that she’d traveled for over twelve years. Holding the ‘38 in her hands, she quietly entered into the room.

This is for you pa! You shall be avenged.

[whereisvanderwood]

We Are Animals.

Yona of the Dawn | Akatsuki no Yona

Shinah x Short!Reader - Fluff

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"Yun, do you think... we could rest for a bit?"

"Sorry, Princess. We've been exposed for too long and we need to keep moving to avoid trouble."

"Plus, we're out of supplies. There's a town nearby, so we can get food and then rest."

"Yay~ food for me!"

"But you just said we've been exposed for too long-"

"Shut up, Droopy Eyes."

The bright midday sun was gleaming brighter than it had been for the last few days, and it was proving to be a bit of a hindrance to the Princess and her companions.

Multiple times now, so much so that Yun had lost count, the Thunder Beast had given away their position by trying to do good things for others. But he wasn't to take all the blame, for the White and Green dragons couldn't help but have their share of doing justice. Yellow would continuously run around acting childish, whilst Blue would stand in the open with his strange mask; another factor contributing to their exposure.

"Don't act like you're not at fault here, Thunder Beast. It's really your fault that we have to keep moving."

"Hey, White Snake was also doing it too."

"Don't you dare try to blame me! I couldn't just stand around and let those soldiers torment those poor helpless people like that."

"I know how you feel, Kija." The white dragon looked to the clearly exhausted Princess, who sounded like her words were sincere. "I want to help everyone too, but there are times when we can't save everybody, and we must save ourselves."

Kija sighed in defeat, knowing that his master couldn't have said it any truer or purer. "You're right... Forgive me, Princess."

The sun had gotten so hot, that Yun decided to try and take a shortcut through the trees that would provide everyone with a bit of shade. Though everyone secretly had their doubts, they couldn't resist the cooling sensation of the canopy above their heads.

"Yun, are you sure you know where you're going?" Kija questioned.

"Positive. It's right here on the ma-... wha?"

"That doesn't sound like the words of someone who knows where they're going," Hak mumbled.

"No, I swear I was... The map was right in my hands! Zeno, did you take it!?"

"Why would Zeno take it? I just want some food in my tummy," the yellow dragon spoke like a child as he pat his empty stomach. Yun rolled his eyes and sighed.

"I swear you can all be so troublesome."

"What ever did I do, Yun?" Jeaha spoke as flamboyantly as he could, only for him to be shut down by the beautiful boy genius.

"You joined us, you pervert."

"Can we just focus on finding the map? I want to leave before I see any b-bugs..."

"But there's one on your shoulder, Mr White Dragon!" Zeno pointed out. Kija screamed and flailed about, begging for someone to get it off of him.

"Yun, are we lost?" Yona questioned in amongst all the commotion. Yun huffed, and slouched his shoulders, letting his arms dangle.

"Well without my map... we're lost for sure." At first there was silence, but not long after everyone collapsed onto the ground or against a tree, thankful for the rest they could finally have.

Shinah stayed standing however, looking through the trees to try and find some sort of path. His eyes rested on the rustling of some leaves not too far away from where he stood.

"Yona..." he spoke in his usual quiet tone.

"Hm? What is it, Shinah?" After looking more closely, Shinah saw something emerging. It looked like a blade, and there was more than one.

"Bandits... In the trees," he pointed in the direction he was seeing the intruders.

"Bandits? Right now!?" Yun angrily yelled.

"I don't know if I can fight them like this... I need my beauty sleep," Jeaha complained.

Hak kicked him in the head. "Get up. We need to protect the princess-"

"They're coming closer," Shinah informed once again. But after saying those words, he saw that they were no longer approaching the dragons and Yona, but had started a commotion somewhere else.

"Let go of me! I don't want to put up with this again!"

"Aww she's a cute one, ain't she fellas?" The faint snickering and mocking of men could be heard, and Yona perked right up.

"They were going after someone else?"

"Sounds like it," Yun answered, relief evident in his response.

"We need to help!" Yona dashed through the thicket of the trees and bushes, delving deeper into the labyrinth they were already stuck in.

"P-Princess, wait!" Kija called out, followed by the Thunder Beast.

"Damn it," he cursed before he and the others went after her. The voices of the men got louder and louder as the group get nearer and nearer.

"Looks like a little lamb got lost in the woods."

"You know what we do to little lambs?" Yona halted her running feet at the scene before her; four men with swords grabbing hold of another innocent girl.

"Let her go!" She yelled, grabbing the bandits' attention.

"Well well, looks like we've got another one, boys!"

"This must be our lucky day," another man said as he licked his lips. Disgusted, the Princess drew her bow and aimed straight for her enemies. She was quickly joined by the rest of her friends.

"Please tell us if you're going to run off like that Princess," Hak said, annoyed and short of breath.

Whilst the men were distracted, the girl took it as a chance to shake free from their dirty hands, and make a run for it.

"H-Hey get back here, brat!" Two of the men went to run after her, but were cut of by the huge claws of the white dragon's arm. "W-what the hell!?" they exclaimed.

"You'd best not move if you want me to spare your lives," Kija spoke menacingly.

The bandits, taken aback, drew their swords ready to accept what they believed was a challenge of strength.  The first one thrust his sword forward, going for the stab, however the Thunder Beast's glaive countered and struck down the man.

"Why you-!" The next one went to cut off Hak's head, what with the way he was flailing his sword about, but the green dragon kicked him down. The last two went for Yun and Yona, but Zeno ran directly in front of the two with his arms spread wide serving as a shield, and Shinah cut them down himself.

After that, the forest was quiet again. It was almost as if the fight had never happened.

"...That was certainly..."

"Underwhelming?"

"...Yeah."

Yona looked around. "Where did the girl go? I want to see if she's alright."

"I think she ran off. She was fast, too," Yun responded.

Yona felt a tap on her shoulder as Shinah walked past her and stood at the base of a tree, looking up. The others though he looked very strange.

"Uh... Shinah? What're you doing?"

Shinah then put both his arms around the tree trunk, and suddenly started violently shaking it.

"W-Whoa!" A few surprised yelps were heard as Shinah was shaking the tree. A few moments later, a body fell through the leaves onto a lower branch.

"Oh, it's her!" Yona spoke, surprised that she was still around. Everyone looked up, and Yun saw that she was holding something.

"H-Hey, is that my map?"

The girly nervously rubbed the back of her neck and laughed. "Yeah it is, sorry. B-But I was going to give it back, honest!"

"How did you get up there anyway?" Hak asked, astounded by the fact that she got away so easily.

"I... climbed?"

"My my, I think I like this deary already-"

"You like everyone, Droopy Eyes." The girl continued sitting in the tree with her legs dangling below, watching the strangers bicker in amongst each other.

She stared directly below her, and saw that the strange man with the freaky mask was still looking straight up at her as a miniscule creature jumped on top of his head. The three stared at each other without saying anything for a while.

"Are you alright? Did those men do anything to you?" The girl jumped once the hooded girl was speaking to her.

"Yeah, I'm alright. Thanks for helping me out back there."

"What's your name, deary?"

"(Y/N). And you are?"

"None of your business. Now, (Y/N), why don't you get down from there? My neck is killing me from looking up too much," the Thunder Beast bluntly said.

(Y/N) gulped a little bit. "Uh... no thanks. I like sitting in trees," she sheepishly smiled. The masked man began shaking the tree again until (Y/N) was holding on to a branch. She had no choice but to let go as her hands begun slipping.

The blue dragon swiftly jumped up and caught the girl, (Y/N) bracing for the hard ground beneath her. (Y/N) surprised, stared at the man as he lowered her to the ground.

"Well... that's one way to get someone out of a tree," Yun said, not expecting Shinah to do what he just did.

"You should be lucky that he didn't cut the entire tree down," Jeaha said as he laughed. "I still have a bruise from that one."

Once the group had gotten a better look at the girl they had sort of rescued, they all quietened down.

"Wow... you're really-"

"Short? I know."

"How did you manage to climb up such a high tree?" Yona asked.

"It comes naturally after you've been chased by bandits for a while."

"You poor deary," Jeaha said as he was by her side in a second. "Think nothing of the painful history you've had with those dirty men, now that destiny has brought us together forever and ever-" Shinah stepped in between the two and shoved Jeaha out of the way with one hand.

No one else was admitting it, but Shinah was definitely acting differently around this new girl they had only just met. No one spoke, until the Princess broke the silence.

"(Y/N), did you want to come with us for a while? We're heading into the next town to buy supplies. You're free to join us if you would like," she smiled.

(Y/N) felt honoured to be asked such a thing. Despite her height, these people seemed to like her, and she was happy with that. "Sure! I don't have any plans myself, so why not?" And with that, the group found their way out of the forest and began their journey once more.

Along the way, (Y/N) told the group about herself, and that she was often targeted by bandits because she looked small and helpless. She also explained that she didn't hang around villages very much because people found her height "annoying and inconvenient."

All the while, Shinah was walking next to her and would occasionally pat her head in comfort. Well... so she thought. She couldn't tell if Shinah was genuinely being friendly, or just messing about with her. Neither of them said anything, so (Y/N) put up with it.

  Dinner came around and (Y/N) agreed to stick around with the group for a little longer. With their newly bought food and supplies, Yun cooked another one of his delicious soups, in which (Y/N) scoffed it down in record-breaking time.

"Certainly a hungry one, aren't you?" Hak said as he ate his dinner spoon by spoon.

"Yep. I just travel around a lot, so I get food only when I'm able to."

"Hey~ Just like Zeno!" the yellow dragon cheered as he threw his hands up in the air. Again, Shinah decided he wanted to sit next to (Y/N), and she was okay with that. With the occasional using (Y/N)'s head as an armrest and patting his lap for (Y/N) to sit on, Shinah was clearly enjoying (Y/N)'s company.

Once the campfire had gone out, it just so happened that Shinah and (Y/N) were still awake and playing with Ao. With the scorching sun completely out of sight, the night was starting to get cool.

"Hey..." (Y/N) looked to her new friend as he started speaking. He hadn't spoken much since she was with these strangers, and she didn't know why. "Why... aren't you in a village?"

Trying to dodge the question, (Y/N) answered quickly. "I told you, people found me annoying and inconvenient. So I left-"

"But... why?"

(Y/N) sighed, knowing that Shinah wasn't going to let this go for a while. So she decided to get it over and done with. "Well... in the village I grew up in, there were lots of kids my age. But of course, I was the shortest. It didn't take long before the elders started dismissing me, and I was discriminated a lot."

(Y/N) looked at Shinah, who had taken his mask off because it was night and no one was really around. He trusted (Y/N) for some reason, and he didn't know why he could take it off so easily when she asked him to. (Y/N) saw that Shinah looked confused, which made her confused aswell.

"But... Ao is short," he spoke as he pet his friend's chubby cheek. "He's not cursed. He's cute..."

(Y/N) laughed a little bit. "There's a big difference, Shinah. Ao is an animal."

"But I am, too..." (Y/N) stopped as Shinah kept on finding a way to contradict her sentences. He looked deeply into her eyes, and they were soon both entranced; entangled in the never-window to their hearts. "And you are, too..."

"I'm an animal?"

"Yes..." he paused. "You're like a monkey." Despite the deepness of conversation, (Y/N) couldn't help but giggle at Shinah's remark. Even Shinah smiled after making her laugh like that. "And cute..."

(Y/N) thought that Shinah's comments were pure flattery. But she took them all to heart, and embraced the warmth of his words. They scooted closer together, and Shinah picked up her cold hands into his warm ones.

"Thanks, Shinah..." (Y/N) smiled to him.

"Ao is short, and he is my friend." Shinah then hugged her like a little teddy bear, holding her close to his beating heart. "You're short, and you are my friend, too..."

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[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Cover You in Oil, pt24

Word Count: 3501 Tags: @outside-the-government, @yourtropegirl @to-pick-ourselves-up-7, @ghostssss, @rampant-salamander, @saysay125, @sistasarah-sallysaidso @shewhorunswithfandoms, @flirtswithdanger @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @anyakinamidala

Sally sagged into Tony, a strangled scream escaping her as she lost consciousness. Tony stepped back, adjusting his hold on her until he had her securely.

“A little help here?” Tony asked, looking over his shoulder to Steve. Steve stood frozen in place, gaze locked on Bucky. “Steve?”

“Buck?” Steve’s eyes narrowed. Bucky nodded slowly. “You know who you are this time?”

“Go help Stark, Stevie. We’ll talk later,” Bucky replied. Steve’s head snapped over to Tony, who was carefully lowering Sally to the snow. He covered the distance in a few steps and looked between Natasha and Tony for answers.

“She took two bullets. Superficial, but painful. She was managing, I don’t know what happened,” Natasha reported.

“She just dropped,” Tony shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“Shock,” Steve nodded. “Let’s get her down this mountain and to medical.”

“Tony?” Sally’s voice was faint. She reached up and touched his cheek. “It is you.” The relief in her voice was overwhelming, and Tony swallowed thickly.

“I’m here, princess,” he reassured her. Sally smiled weakly and tried to focus her gaze on him.

“Actually, I’m now a queen.” Her laugh was barely there, and the effort caused a fit of coughing.

“Well then, Your Eminence, let’s get you to medical.” Tony scooped her into his arms and started down the mountain. Sally sucked in a ragged breath and laid her head on his shoulder, closing her eyes.

She must have lost consciousness because when she wakened she was in a hyperbaric chamber. Her hands went up to the glass in a panic, thinking she’d somehow been found and spirited away by Victor. A gentle tap on the glass to her left stopped her and she looked over. Tony waved, a forced smile on his face. She pressed her hand to the glass and waited until his own covered hers on the outside. He looked worried. And exhausted. There were deep bags etched under his eyes, and he was pale, like he hadn’t been sleeping. Sally noticed a bandage peeking out from under his t-shirt sleeve. Her brow furrowed and she tapped the glass pointing at it.

“What happened?” She asked, unsure if he could hear her.

“I told you, when your mark vanished, I developed blisters like I’d been burned,” Tony responded. He sounded like he was talking underwater. “It was just a protective dressing, until we met up with you.”

“And then what happened?” Sally asked. Tony smirked and pulled the dressing off. The band of words around his arm was raw and red, swollen along the sloppy letters.

“It had faded as it was healing. Now it’s dark again. But it’s nothing like yours,” Tony tapped the glass and pointed to her leg. Sally tried to move so she could see it, but the chamber was too tight.

“Get me out of here?” She asked. Tony nodded, and pressed a few buttons on the side of the unit. The glass hissed and drew back, freeing her. She pushed herself to sitting slowly, and then shifted the hospital gown to look at the spot on her leg that had once held her soulmark. She gasped. Instead of the smooth, bare skin that had been the result of Victor’s attempt to brainwash her, Tony’s familiar handwriting wound around her thigh again, angry red spreading from the letters. But the words were different. Sally traced her finger along them in confusion.

“What is this?” She asked, looking up at Tony. Tony smiled.

“I think once you get used to it, you’ll prefer it,” Tony said. “I think it must be what I said when I finally made it to you.”

“I thought I would never see you again. I thought I would die without you. You’re finally safe.” Sally read the words, wonder in her voice. She looked up at Tony with tears in her eyes. “Your words?”

“I’m pretty sure they are. My arm stopped hurting as soon as we were together again,” Tony nodded.

Sally traced her finger across them again, and noticed that she could feel the thick tight scar tissue from her first soulmark under the new words. She closed her eyes, and followed the ridge of tissue, almost able to see the letters under her fingertips. “Do you suppose anyone else has ever had two marks from the same person?”

Tony shook his head. “I somehow doubt it.” Sally reached for his hand and pulled it against her thigh, forcing his fingers along the scarring where her first mark had been.

“Old,” she said, and then slid his hand on to the visible words. “And new.”

“One way or another, Sally, it’s your thigh, and it’s distracting,” Tony smirked. Sally laughed and shrugged.

“Unfortunately, this little glass tube is only big enough for me,” she teased. “Maybe I could be moved to a bigger bed?”

“I’m going to go attempt to make a compelling argument about the healing power of touch,” Tony winked. “How’s that sound?”

“I’ll be anticipating your success,” Sally smiled, and suddenly felt the need to blink back tears again. She dashed them away, flushing. Tony leaned forward and kissed her cheek, smoothing the tears off with his thumb.

“Don’t cry,” he ordered. “You’re safe. You’re safe, and you didn’t even need me to save you. You figured it out on your own, and you made it back to me.”

“I didn’t do it on my own –“ Sally protested.

“You did. You found Bucky, somehow won him over and when your instincts told you to get gone, you were able to rally him and a bunch of people who don’t even know you to help you get out. Self-reliance isn’t about doing everything on your own, it’s about knowing how to create a team to help you reach your goals,” Tony interrupted.

“A lesson you must have learned from Steve,” Sally laughed. “Because that was not Tony Stark talking to me just now.”

“Maybe the boy scout is wearing off on me,” Tony scowled. “But he’s right. You made that escape happen.”

Sally forced a smile and nodded, ending the conversation. She sat up straight and pushed Tony upright by the shoulder. “Go find me a bigger bed. I want to take a nap, and I don’t want to wake up alone.”

“As you wish, Your Holiness,” Tony winked.

“It’s actually Majesty, and if you decide to call me that, I will give you your ring back,” Sally warned. “I’m not feeling like I want to be teased about what happened with Victor.”

“Bigger bed,” Tony nodded and stepped out of the room. Within moments, Bucky slipped in.

“Tony doesn’t want me to tell you, but Victor has already contacted the American Embassy in Budapest to demand your return,” Bucky opened. Sally’s eye widened. “No, don’t worry, the ambassador was already aware of the situation. And was not interested in, oh shit, how did he put it? Entertaining the behavioural manipulations of someone with the emotional capacity of a four-year-old.”

Sally barked out a laugh. “Is there any way to know if the coronation is legally binding?”

“Within Latveria, it is absolute. You are their empress and queen until death or abdication,” Bucky explained. “And even abdication is questionable.”

“Outside Latveria?”

“Victor’s government isn’t so much recognized as tolerated. The EU would be just as happy to see the lands that make up Latveria rolled into Romania or Hungary,” Bucky explained. “Of course, that’s not on any official legal documents. Victor’s claim to the throne and title are tenuous at best. Which makes yours even more questionable. With one possible strengthening exception.”

“Oh?”

“Well, first, there was that weird wording at the end of the coronation. If he had the herald pronounce you married, you have the same claim to the throne that he does.” Bucky was thinking out loud for Sally’s benefit.

“How do we find out if he had the herald marry us?” Sally pressed.

“I’m not sure,” Bucky shook his head. “My guess is that there will be some sort of supporting documentation that Victor will present?”

“Wait, I don’t understand. You said first. What is second? And why would whatever is second make my claim more valid than Victor’s?” Sally’s brow furrowed in confusion. Bucky smirked.

“He was never crowned,” Bucky arched one eyebrow and winked. Sally blinked slowly. “Seriously. The guy named himself ruler of Latveria. But never actually bothered with the coronation. He probably thought he didn’t need to because he would never have any real competition for the throne after he eliminated all the Latverian competition.”

“Why did he make me empress then?” Sally asked, her voice a little shrill.

“For whatever reason, he didn’t see you as competition, but a companion,” Bucky shrugged. Sally scoffed.

“Bucky,” she started. “There is no way that maniac actually loves me. There has to be more to this.”

“I don’t disagree,” he nodded.

“Well, why were you there?” She pressed.

“It was a good place to lay low. I’d seen Victor in action before and didn’t really trust him and for whatever reason, I just felt like I needed to be there,” Bucky explained. “I really don’t know what it was, other than a deep feeling that I should stick around.”

“Must be the hero in you,” Sally winked. Bucky rolled his eyes.

“I’m hardly a hero. I have seventy years of decidedly non-heroic behaviour to answer for.” His voice was gravelly, and sounded pained. Sally reached for his hand and covered it with her own.

“You look a lot like you might be my hero right now,” she pointed out. He let out a short, hard bark of laughter.

“Well, don’t let your fella find out you feel that way,” he winked, his jovial mood restored. Sally laughed.

“Oh please,” she snorted. “He knows he has nothing to worry about.”

“Well, except for your husband,” Bucky teased.

“That can be annulled, you know,” Sally said thoughtfully. “It’s just a matter of figuring out if the ceremony included a wedding, and then going to court to say it wasn’t consensual. Right?”

“The problem is finding a court to hear your case,” Bucky nodded. “There are no courts in Latveria. Victor is pretty medieval. He hears all judicial cases. So you’re looking at finding an international court that would recognize the case.”

“If an international court won’t recognize the case at all, that send a pretty strong message that the marriage isn’t valid, doesn’t it?” Sally asked. She was so focused on her conversation with Bucky that she didn’t notice Tony at the door.

“What marriage?” He was pale, and Sally could tell he was battling with whether or not to stay or go. In her few experiences with Tony, she was expecting him to disappear into the depths of whatever building they were in, but she wasn’t in any shape to follow. She held up her hand and waved him over to the seat Bucky was sitting in.

“Sit,” she demanded. “Bucky can find another chair?”

“I was actually coming to move you to a different room.” Tony’s words were tight. Sally sat up and swung her legs to the edge of the bed, holding out a hand to him for assistance. He stayed at the door, arms folded across his chest. When Bucky moved to help her, he pushed past, glaring at the other man. He took Sally’s hand wordlessly, sliding his free hand across her back to support her as he led her out of the room and down the hall to the new room. Bucky followed, a few steps behind them, and waited at the door while Tony helped settle her into bed.

“You’d said you wanted a nap, Sally,” Bucky offered. “Would you like me to come back later to help sort this out with Tony?”

“We’re fine,” Tony snapped. Bucky ignored his comment and looked at Sally.

“Yeah. Maybe give me a couple hours?” Sally nodded. “I’ll need your help sorting through all the weird and keeping it straight. Have you had a chance to sit down with Steve yet?”

“Briefly,” Bucky nodded. “This will give me a better chance though. Just let me know when you want me to come back.” He pulled the door shut as he left, giving Sally a significant look. Protective, maybe, she thought. Tony sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Married?”

“Don’t be a jackass, Tony,” Sally snapped. “You know you’re the only person I want to marry, so don’t dance around this. Ask me what you want to ask. Don’t play games.”

“I’m not playing games, Sally,” he snapped back. “Tell me what the fuck happened?”

“I told you the best way for us to get away was after to coronation. Bucky and I went over the ceremony with a fine tooth comb to make sure it was a safe choice. Victor’s herald sprung some new wording on us right at the end, and I think pronounced us married,” she explained.

“What?” His voice cracked.

“I don’t think there’s a legal leg to stand on, Tony,” Sally pursed her lips in thought. “First, there’s the issue of consent. I didn’t say I do. But then I’m also carrying on with another man.”

“What?” Tony’s face was getting redder and redder.

“You, you idiot. I’m carrying on with you,” Sally laughed. “Honestly, honey.” She took his hands in hers and rubbed her thumbs along the back of his knuckles. His skin was rougher than she remembered. She brought one of his hands to her mouth, and kissed it.

“I thought –“

“You should probably try stopping that. It’s a terrible pastime,” Sally teased. “Our bond is so strong, Tony. So strong that he tried to brainwash me into believing I loved him. And it didn’t work. He tried to make me forget you existed, and it didn’t work. So why would I carry on with anyone other than you?” The stress in Tony’s face melted away with her words and he slipped all the way onto the bed, sliding an arm around her shoulder and pulling her against his chest.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered into her hair.

“True,” she nodded against his chest. “You deserve so much more.”

Sally sat up, gasping, clawing at the air above her. She must have screamed because Tony immediately enclosed her in his arm and rocked her into his chest.

“It’s okay. You’re safe,” he murmured into her hair. He kept repeating it until her breathing returned to normal. She looked up at him, blinking back tears.

“I’m sorry –“

“For what?” Tony interrupted, shaking his head. “Don’t.”

“I don’t remember,” she trailed off. She looked down at her hands and blinked slowly. “I was having a nightmare, I think?”

“You’re at the complex in upstate New York. We moved you out of medical about six hours ago so that you and I could bunk together at your request. Your vital signs have been stable since we met up with you, but you did give me a scare when your mark came back,” Tony reoriented her, his words quiet.

“Did I have any x-rays done?” Sally asked. Tony nodded.

“Yeah, Barnes insisted we check your hips and femurs. No signs of any fracture, break or repair,” Tony explained. “But Barnes said the technology is suitably advanced enough, as far as he is aware, that traditional x-rays might not work. We had Dr. Cho take a deeper look. There was never a break or fracture. There was a little degeneration in the hips, which she said was completely normal given your lifestyle and age, and when you were in the cradle, that was repaired.”

“The cradle?” Sally asked, brow furrowed.

“The tube you were in is a modified hyperbaric chamber that can reconstruct tissue. You went in with a probable fractured femur, but when we couldn’t find anything wrong, I went ahead and repaired some damage that might have caused arthritic pain in the future,” Dr. Cho explained as she walked into the room. “You look well, considering your ordeal.”

“How bad should I look?” Sally laughed. “Apparently there was nothing wrong with me.”

“The cradle found signs of damage from whatever interference had caused the removal of your soulmark. It couldn’t regenerate that mark, but given that your new mark lies directly on top of it, you probably wouldn’t want that. Some of your pain receptors in your hip and thigh were altered in order to cause pain that would feel like a break healing,” Dr. Cho offered.

“Did you fix that?” Sally asked.

“I did,” Dr. Cho nodded. “You should be full recovered, physiologically.”

“Thank you,” Sally smiled. Dr. Cho’s stern features warmed.

“You’re very welcome.” She turned to Tony. “I’m needed back at my lab as soon as possible. I’m confident that Sally is well enough that I no longer need to be here.”

“Thank you for coming, Helen,” Tony nodded. “Pepper –“

“Already has me sorted,” she cut him off and smiled at Sally one more time before leaving the room.

“I feel like I need to get up and go for a walk and see if my legs feel any different,” Sally commented. Tony rose and offered her a hand. She took it and pushed to her feet tentatively. There was no pain. She took a hesitant step forward and concentrated on where the pain in her leg had been. There was nothing. She smiled and pushed up to her tiptoes, noting the continued absence of pain. Finally, she let go of Tony’s hand and jumped. She held her breath as her feet met the floor, waiting for the familiar knifing pain to shoot back up her leg, and broke into a wide smile when there was no discomfort at all.

“I think it’s Thai night. Can I give you a tour of the building, and offer you some dinner?” Tony asked. Sally smiled.

“Let me take a shower first?” She nodded. Tony smirked.

“As your responsible decision maker for health care issues, I’m going to have to insist on assisting you,” he leered. Sally laughed and leaned against him.

“I’m not going to put up a fight,” she admitted. “I’m still feeling tired. It’ll be nice to have someone to scrub my back.”

The water was hot against her shoulders, and the contrast between it and the cool air of the bathroom caused a wave of gooseflesh to crawl up her arms. She shivered in pleasure and tilted her head back under the showerhead, water coursing over the crown of her head and down her back. She was nearly reluctant to have Tony step in behind her, wanting to guard the sensations of the shower to herself. Until he started the scrub her back with a lathered washcloth. Then she was all about sharing the shower with him. She groaned and leaned into his hands and was met with a low chuckle from Tony.

“You like that?” He murmured, grazing his lips across her shoulders. Sally leaned against him, nodding silently. The crash of emotions that washed across her every time his skin touched hers was almost too much for her to bear. She blinked back tears, hoping the water across her face would obscure them.

“I missed you,” she managed. Tony slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her close against his chest, dipping his head over her shoulder to kiss her cheek.

“I was lost without you,” he admitted, and reached up to dash away her tears. “Don’t cry, Sal. We’re back together.”

“I’m being stupid, I know,” she started. “I just –“

“You never need to apologize, Sally,” Tony chided. “When have I ever apologized? I’m not ever going to start, so maybe you need to see that you have nothing to apologize for either. Ever.”

“But –“

“Sally.” His tone was chastising, even as his arms were warm around her. “I mean it. Don’t apologize for your tears. Don’t try to justify them or excuse them. I’m gratified that you love me so much. God knows I don’t deserve it.”

“Shut up,” she laughed. She pulled away and turned to face him. “No wonder we’re together, we’re both a couple of idiots.” She pressed her lips against his chastely, and stepped back into his arms.

“A couple of idiots standing in the shower, not getting clean,” Tony countered. Sally nodded.

“That is also true. We could be getting dirty,” she winked. Tony shook his head.

“Let’s make sure you’re one hundred percent first. I missed you. A lot. I don’t want to break you so soon after getting you back,” he smirked. Sally rolled her eyes.

“Who’s to say I wouldn’t break you?�� She slid a hand down his hip and leaned forward to nibble his collarbone. Sally’s stomach growled and Tony pulled away laughing.

“How about we revisit this after dinner?” He offered. Sally flushed and nodded. “Turn around, let me finish your back.”

[pokexhibit]

New emperor’s...former emperor

! - OC x canon | Renzu(@ronkeydrawsdb‘s)/Freeza | SFW

i wrote this for her a while ago now but since her oc’s are fINALLY GETTING MORE ATTENTION THANKS YOU HER GORGEOUS ART..i decided to post this thing too. full fic under the cut!

SHRUGS/

after completing several quests and a bit of extra training, the freiza race warrior- no, emperor, returned to his ship. he was tired, but not exhausted. it is important to practice the known moves in order to master them fully. repeating that thought to bold the word 'master', made him slightly flustered.

walking through the hallway, even with quiet steps, he got plenty of attention and show of respect or fear from his new...soldiers.

damn, gaining that status was not something he expected from Freeza at all. despite the two getting very, veeeery close, Freeza did not seem to understand quite fully his tease joke about rebelling against him. though, Renzu did realize how much importance and value his lover had for loyalty, and could not pass such actions as a joke in any way. and fighting him really was a goddamn challenge, did Freeza truly felt betrayed? Renzu sure hoped not. after all, the two were sharing a lot of intimacy till that happened, as well. but hearing Freeza telling him that he is the one to take over his title, could not at any way, pull out from the horned warrior anything else but an extremely confused and mostly shocked expression. might suppose that this reaction was to break Freeza's any possible heavy feeling about betrayal, as he added and stated how he will grow stronger and get his throne back. yes, and his voice and tone were assuring that the golden, short, yet with no doubt, powerful fellow race member was not kidding about making Renzu an emperor. oh, and he sure did made him feel like one. with these thoughts, he did not notice how he walked right into Cooler. quite literally smashing his face against that huge brat's armor.

"excuse me" Renzu tried very much to keep his voice calm and serious. but maybe he overdid it trying too hard to hide any clues of his..inappropriate thoughts.

Cooler let out something similar to a groan, but more of a sound to compare to an old fridge door opening that sounds like a wild monster that will eat you instead of you trying to fetch for a snack. yes, that's about right. and yes, describing as so in his head sure did reminded Renzu he can use his new status just a little to mess with Freeza's brother.  Cooler, however, rolled words out of his groan

"just because Freeza gave up on his throne-" he quietly ranted a sentence in between his words; "-that i deserved to have anyways-" and continued "doesn't mean that you’re going to stay up there, you're not the strongest. there will be ones to fight over your place"  

it was obvious to Renzu that Cooler just tried to bother and tease the emperor from jealously of his high position. yet, his words did made him think about it more. it has been quite a while since the former ruler passed him his role, and since then haven't even once tried to attempt to claim it back. even though, Renzu had no doubt that his boyfriend trained hard and got stronger. especially after beginning to appreciate the kindness from the ones on the ship without feeling strange about discovering the truth of respect existing beyond fear. a lesson the horned warrior was proud to teach. he even started changing his attitude toward his minions, even reducing the times he yelled at Dodoria to shut his mouth! that was one hell of a progress, that with no doubt, was gained with effort. but now thinking about it again, he did wonder what was the reason Freeza seemed to avoid fighting him..?

"ye-" after an awkward pause, the attempt to respond to Cooler's words was cut off by the sound of clicking footsteps. he stepped back a few more from the former emperor's tall-ass brother. who also backed up for a moment, then moved back to his original stand with a 'hmph'. again with the fridge noises. Freeza strutted in the hallway and came into sight of both clan members that were standing still, as if they were waiting for him. and well, they did, didn't they..?

"o-ya. what are you looking at, you two?" Freeza stopped nearby, a frown weakened by slightly covered eyelids and a raised a muscle above his eye. a grumpy, skeptical glare was drown on the two's priceless faces.

Renzu glanced at the one standing next to him, and with a spark in his might, back at Freeza. "hes trying to challenge me to a fight over the emperor title" the tips of his lips still stretched upwards when he spoke, even though he did try not to laugh or smirk. but the two did not seem to notice and the following yell of the two voices synched was more than enough to confirm that

*"WHAT?!"*

perfect

Cooler glared at the short, horned sneaky fella, twitching the corners of his mouth. the emperor that was still, trying very hard not to let out a laugh and burst his plan, that went more amusing than he thought it would.

"BROTHER, WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" the younger sibling shouted, with quite a frustration to add to the shock and confusion in his voice. his shoulders tighten closer to his head, and eyes squint to a wishing-to-be violent stare, that just looked funny at this whole scene.

"I DID NOT MEAN IT LIKE THAT! THIS MORON CANT EVEN UNDERSTAND OUR LANGUAGE ANYMORE" Cooler realized he was stuck in a sticky situation, but was way too far into protecting his pride as one with mighty strength, and did not want it to seem as he tries to excuse away from a fight offer, so he quickly scrapped the impulsive, shocked, loud response: "T-the new emperor seems to think there is truly no one stronger than him now, and it a need to prove him wrong, brother!" his eyes suddenly looked much more serious to bold the intentions of his own interest that he tried to sneak into the conversation.

Renzu's perspective on this poor acting saw it more as a ridiculous amusement. but yes, he was pleased with how well and fast this developed into what he wished for. but not for long as a new surprise struck his expectations -

opening his mouth to speak out, then shutting it with his teeth. Freeza led this quick transition just to introduce his next sentences

"Brother, you never had any respect for the ones above you in order. you don't want to become a thorn in his side just like the saiyans were, you’re an irreplaceable moron. the new emperor has proved his power taking both of us down and there is no need for him to repeat kicking you for your foolish behavior" his tone sounded so much different than before. it was quieter, yet somehow through the soft tint of it, still managed to sound attacking. a face that desperately tried to wear a frown over something he wanted to keep away. again.

and well, you can't keep too many secrets from your ruler, can you? especially this individual. it was weird to see someone with such a conceited personality to keep an attitude like this one. of course, he did change his path of heart brick by brick. but nothing would make him act like this in front of his rivalry sibling. something was off.

Cooler looked like the confusion and shock broke his ability to react, and all three just stood there still in awkward silence for a number of seconds. one of the soldiers passed by them, and noticing three most powerful figures on the ship in one place, a drop of sweat rolled down her face. Renzu glanced over at the fighter, and with eye contact made, he showed an awkward smile that did not make it much easier for his dear army member. she stopped her walk harshly, bowed down, her eyes widen as if she realized she has done something wrong, she straighten her posture and saluted instead. "g-good to see you! emperors, admiral!" waiting for just one more second and continued her way increasing the pace of her walk.

"emperors" Freeza and Renzu repeated with a whisper, at the same time. "..admiral" Cooler blinked and then smirked. "loyal army you have in charge there, emperor" he raised his head in half-nodding gesture and turned his back to leave. for once, even with such laughable behavior, Cooler actually acted mature from the moment this interaction between them just began.

and there, the two were left to stand alone with the words of that female warrior echoing in their heads. despite it being very distracting, Renzu shook that out his head to speak finally speak his mind about this behavior from his boyfriend.

"why do you keep avoiding a fight against me?" his words spoken with clear stubbornness to receive an answer, yet in a gentle voice. the former ruler caught off guard by this question. and maybe it is in his character no not give a single fuck about anyone else but his own, but as mentioned before, he sure did started to convert into a nice nature (Dodoria would approve of it).  but mostly it has developed in getting to know closer this certain fellow race member.

"i doubt you would lose to me with your new refreshed powers. why aren't you even trying to grasp back over your respected title?"

"Renzu, shut up." he was flicking his tail rapidly behind his back.

there was another pause, that Renzu could now allow, but before he got to part his lips, they were already sealed  by the pressure of another pair. again, unexpected. again, accepting over the fact that this one is sure full of surprises. again, returning the kiss.

and after the two broke the short make-out session, Freeza finally said something close enough to an answer: "you are progressing surprisingly well as an emperor. it would be a shame to kick you out even if my power level rose above your pointy head"

words that drew a tender smile on the emperors face. "good enough"