#it’s going to give me an $8000 raise @_@

[james-p-sullivan]

I HAVE AN INTERVIEW ON SATURDAAAAAAY

[imagine-darksiders]

Okay, so, sad girl hours right now.

Y/N has been a lot quieter than usual, and when asked “what’s wrong?” they immediately break down crying because they were having a shit day where EVERYTHING was going wrong, but didn’t want to bother anyone with their stupid human problems (there’s far greater things to worry about in the heat of the apocalypse), so they kept it bottled up only for that one simple question to shatter the dam holding them together. The four horsemen + my comfort giant ™ Ulthane.

Also if you’re having a bad day like me: one bad day doesn’t equal a bad life. You’ve made it this far; surely you can make it to wherever you want to go next! You are loved and you are valid. Don’t give up just yet. ❤️

Hey, I'm really sorry, I know you requested the Horsemen too but I got way too carried away with Ulthane, and wrote an 8000 word response to this ask lmao, and by then I thought it might be getting too long.

Content warning: This gets quite existential. Allusions to suicidal thoughts, talks about death and the inevitability of death. Depression. The end of the world. The Apocalypse, nihilism. Crying, smoking, cigarettes, emotional outbursts. Ulthane is trying his best to raise this tree full of sad, unpredictable kids.

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This was always bound to happen…

Ulthane’s chest swells and sags in the wake of a mammoth sigh, like a wave kissing the shoreline before it retreats back into the tumultuous sea.

A tall, arched hollow carved out of the trunk of the Maker Tree allows him a limited glimpse of the city beyond this inner sanctum. Through the fragmented shadows of a thousand, whispering leaves, the night sky peeks back in at him, a vast, endless beast of shimmering obsidian, crushed velvet strewn above the Earth.

It’s dark out there, immeasurably so without the lights and sounds of a population that had once been two million strong.

He would have liked to have seen it….

From his usual post at the anvil nestled deep inside the cavity of the great tree, Ulthane’s gaze calmly trails after a tiny, tiptoeing shape that hugs the wooden walls, a dark silhouette creeping through the hollow and out onto the plateau overlooking Haven City.

Again, the brawny maker exhales a long, gentle breath as he lowers his hammer to the anvil and drapes a burly forearm across the cool, flat surface, ears tipped towards the ground in unhappy contemplation.

He recognises the silhouette.

It can only be one human.

You. Your stature, your gait. Not to mention that this is the third time in as many days that he’s spotted you leaving the safety of the sleeping nook to venture outside and into the wild, chilly night.

The first time, he’d merely turned you right back around at the entrance, giving you a gentle nudge with his fingertips and a disgruntled reprimand about not leaving the tree after dark… Or at all for that matter.

Your face was tilted down then - he assumed in embarrassment – as you slumped your way back up to the nook, never letting him catch a glimpse of your expression, and never speaking a word to the huge, hovering maker.

That alone had stirred a modicum of unrest in the back of his mind.

Typically, he’d had very little trouble getting a conversation out of you. But that night, he brushed your unusual silence aside, chalking it up to fatigue, or perhaps that strange habit some humans have of walking around in their sleep.

They even have a sleepwalker in their midst… Damn near gave Ulthane a heart attack when he turned around one night to find the little blighter standing motionlessly just behind his boots, their mouth slightly ajar and their eyes lidded full of sleep, staring past him at nothing.

The phenomenon is yet another curious facet of human biology he wishes he could share with an old friend of his.

Alas…

Ulthane had elected to keep a closer eye on you during the nights, even warned Elanya and Yarin that they might have another walking sleeper on their hands.

He’d hoped, perhaps naively, that it might have just been a one-time occurrence.

His hopes were dashed when it happened again.

Ulthane had never had his own younglings. Never really gave it much thought beyond his brother’s teasing.

‘You sure you don’t plan on havin’ yer own?’ Thane guffawed unhelpfully as he watched his disgruntled brother fish a tiny, spluttering Karn out of the aqueduct that runs adjacent to Muria’s garden. ‘You’d make a good sire.’

‘Not until you have some first,’ Ulthane groused back as a way to escape answering, settling the boy on his knee with a fist clenched around his overall straps, like scruffing a pup. Ulthane had made a mental note then and there to teach Karn how to swim the very next morning. Preferably in the Fjord, and not in their sacred waterways.

Helping Eideard raise Alya and Valus was preoccupying enough, and then Karn was born a few centuries after the twins hit their adolescence. The boy lost his dam, and thus it fell to the other makers in Tri Stone to keep their littlest tyke out of danger as best they could.

In hindsight, Ulthane is grateful that he had any experience with younglings at all, because sometimes, taking care of a tree-full of humans feels a bit like wrangling toddlers who won’t do as they’re damn well told. Oh, they used to, back when they first met the giant and were utterly petrified of him. He didn’t like that much, but at least when they feared repercussions, they actually listened if he told them not to go outside, not to talk to the demon lurking on the plateau, not to climb the upper branches, not to drink the rubbing alcohol, not to sleep in their bedrolls with their boots on, and…

Ulthane wrinkles his nose and groans as he scrubs a rough hand down his face. Stone be damned, maybe he would have made a good sire after all.

The second night, you’d managed to slip past the vigilant maker without detection. He only realised something was amiss when, from the corner of an eye, he’d caught a tiny, orange glow blooming to life in the pitch-black dark beyond the hollow.

Immediately alert, he’d lifted his head from his work at the anvil to look properly, and found his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. There was a soft glow, small and round hovering in the darkness outside, several feet above the ground.

He squinted at it, watched it flare brightly for a moment before it receded to a softer burn once more.

….

“I’m just having a smoke,” you’d uttered tonelessly as he tromped through the hollow to find you leaning on the wooden ridge that separates you from a nasty, two-hundred-foot plummet to the city square below.

You didn’t turn around as you spoke. You didn’t need to. You could have heard the giant coming from a mile away.

Stealth isn’t something makers usually bother with…

Ulthane almost thought he should be angry. You’re a smart human. You should have known better than to leave the safety of the tree. But all he found when he loomed close enough to actually peer down and sideways at your face was something that took his great, thumping heart in a fist and wrung it dry.

Sad… is too gentle a word for it.

What he saw in your face at that moment, peering out over the city, shrouded by night’s enigmatic hue, was far more alarming to the burly maker than he’d ever admit to you aloud.

Oh, there was sadness there, certainly. But it was also so much worse than that.

With humans, it’s all in the eyes, he’s found. Humans have such astoundingly expressive eyes.

Dark pupils that expand and contract. Sclera that turns red from fatigue or anguish. Lashes that glisten like jewels when tears escape the confines of their eyelids.

Ulthane might be reduced to a soft-hearted fool whenever one of his – the - humans cries, yet he can’t stop himself from finding the act ethereally beautiful, in a way.

Tears are rare in other species, even among the younglings. In his own village, the river that brings them water is referred to colloquially as the Tears of the Mountain, a name steeped in reverence, life-bringing water.

There were tears on your lashes that night, he recalls.

They sparkled in the gentle glow cast by a thin, white stick that dangled loosely between your parted lips.

As the maker stared down at you, trying to decide whether he should be relieved you hadn’t ventured any further than that, or livid that you were out there at all, you raised your hand to your mouth and held the stick steady between two fingers, drawing in a slow, uneven breath. Ulthane watched on, captivated by the end of the stick burning even hotter in the deep, blue twilight.

Plucking it from your mouth entirely, you’d exhaled, and he was even more amazed to see you breathing out smoke, like dragon-fire. Ulthane could do little else but gawk down at the elegant cloud of white as it billowed through your lips and drifted up towards the sky. It’d been a long time since he’d seen a dragon… Looking at you then, he couldn’t shake the image of a poor, lonely beast gazing forlornly over a home it would never get back.

Ulthane had seen such looks before, on the faces of his fellow makers when their home fell prey to Corruption. The foul plague drove them further into the outer reaches of their own realm, trapping and isolating them, stealing their bodies and using their own people as puppets against the survivors.

One by one, the makers fell, those who were brave or foolish enough to try and fight back.

He’d watched the younglings lose their hope, their wonder at an infinite Universe. With each maker felled by the vile darkness spreading its tendrils across their land, the resolve of those that were left started to waver.

There was a pattern, Ulthane noticed, in those who were closest to death. They stopped being scared. They stopped being outraged and desperate to save their homes and themselves. Resignation became an entirely new plague, killing off the once bustling village of Tri Stone until only he and a few others remained. Apathy grew like a tumorous thing, deadening the eyes of all but the stoutest hearts and minds.

That’s what you looked like, he’d realised with the lurching, ominous chill of dread creeping up his stomach walls.

Resigned.

Hardly alive, just existing. Existing until the inevitable, as if you were already hand in hand with Death just waiting for the nod.

This was always bound to happen…

“Thought I told you to stop sneakin’ out here,” he’d eventually rumbled, his tone gruff and guarded, but his intentions couldn’t be softer.

You didn’t react to the maker’s words, merely continued to gaze out at the skyscrapers reaching up towards the stars. “Didn’t want to smoke inside,” you said quietly, “The others shouldn’t have to breathe this shit.”

All that did was set alarm bells blaring in Ulthane’s skull.

Pale, blue eyes turned to glare sharply at the innocuous stick poking through your teeth.

“And, er… Should you be breathin’ it?” His loaded question held a merit of danger to it, like the hammer of a gun, cocked and ready to fall at a moment’s notice if he doesn’t hear what he wants to.

Which made it all the more surprising that you didn’t immediately try to ease the maker’s nerves as you usually would. Instead, you raised your shoulders in a lazy shrug and hummed, “Either the demons kill me, or this cig will. Doesn’t really matter at this point, does it? Who gives a shit?”

Another odd, human colloquialism, but he got the gist.

Ulthane still isn’t particularly proud of what he did then.

Maybe it was the blasé reference to your own mortality or the blunt ultimatum, or even the suggestion that your life isn’t cared about. Something struck a nerve, and Ulthane wasted no time in reaching down and using the very tips of his thumb and forefinger to pinch the burning end of the ‘cig’ and pluck it out from between your teeth, unaffected by the tiny fire singing his calloused skin.

And then came the most egregious act.

He tossed it, flicked the tiny thing from his fingers and sent it sailing over the wooden ledge where it fell, down, down and further down until its glowing ember disappeared in the darkness dozens of feet below, extinguished by the rush of wind hitting its stub.

Ulthane fully expected some sort of retaliation. He even hoped for it. Anger, indignation, frustration. Hell, he half wanted you to round on him, all fire and brimstone and spewing venom, demanding that he go down there and retrieve your stolen treasure.

Anything. Anything at all that would have returned a little life to your lustreless eyes.

What he got instead was a deathly-quiet voice that cracked at the end of its sentence. “That was the only one I had left…”

Ulthane thought it might have hurt less if Yarin slugged him in the gut.

Looking back on it now, as he stands at his anvil watching you traipse aimlessly into the dark for the third time, Ulthane finds he can hardly blame you for resenting him.

You and the other humans… You don’t have much left anymore. And what little you do have is cherished with fierce devotion. Even the most mundane things. He can still recall the ghoulish howl one of the women emitted after her bracelet’s string snapped, spilling colourful beads across the floor of the tree, her desperation as she clawed after them, wailing. You were among the first to drop down and search with her. “We’ll get them all back, Sam,” you soothed as she clutched the broken elastic to her breast with one hand, knuckles bone-white, “We’ll find them, it’s alright. You’ll be alright.”

It was never just a bracelet.

And that tiny, little stick you called a ‘cig’ probably meant more to you than the old maker could ever comprehend.

A low, resonant hum starts up deep in the base of Ulthane’s throat as he tracks your silhouette across the hollow until you vanish out onto the gloomy plateau. Perhaps he should leave you be tonight…

With a grunt, the maker focuses back on the little talisman sitting on his anvil – a gift for the Horsman, whose efforts to recover more survivors from the crumbling city haven’t gone unnoticed.

Readjusting his grip on the hammer, he taps it half-heartedly on the metal casing, ears pinned back as he tries to quell the nagging thoughts scurrying about in his skull.

Suppose you fell off the plateau… Suppose you were spotted by a dusk-wing flying by overhead…

Ulthane manages to restrain himself for all of five minutes before he frustratedly tosses his hammer down onto the anvil’s surface with a resounding ‘clang,’ and shoves himself away from the workstation, stomping off towards the tree’s hollow, his brother’s laughter ringing in his ears.

In his haste not to hurry, he fails miserably, and at last comes bursting out onto the wooden plateau, eyes zeroing in on the small shape ahead of him.

It’s more of a relief than he’ll ever admit to find you leaning on the ridge, just as you had the previous two instances, arms draped across the top, shoulders hunched, your head ducked into the collar of a light, grey jacket.

Holding a breath in his lungs until he’s confident he can let it go quietly, Ulthane draws closer.

As he does, a sudden white cloud billows from your mouth, and the maker almost thinks you’ve managed to scrounge up another of those ‘cigs.’ But when he comes to a slow, heavy halt beside you and glances down, he can’t spot anything of its likeness hanging between your lips.

Belatedly, he finally realises what’s wrong.

It’s cold out here. At least it must be for a human with parchment-thin skin.

You barely acknowledge his presence as he reaches for the blue, well-worn cowl wrapped around his neck. Ulthane makes sure to grumble aloud as he pulls it over his head. “Hmph…catch yer damn death…” he mutters grumpily, pretending that the mere act of draping it over your shoulders and using the pads of his fingers to wrap swathes of warm fabric around you is a terrible inconvenience. He also tries hard not to fixate on the way his cowl spills down your back to pool at your feet.

Maker’s bones… You’re so tiny.

Sluggishly, you roll your head sideways to peer at the makeshift blanket, giving Ulthane a proper glimpse of your flat, unreadable expression lit by the luminous moon hanging overhead in a star-spattered sky.

Something ancient and primitive inside him is immensely pleased when you don’t reject the offer of warmth. It settles him, leaves his restless soul satisfied, though only by a small margin. You’re still out of the safe confines of the tree, in the dark, after all.

Everything else about the maker’s nature still urges him to get you out of the open.

But Ulthane has been around long enough to recognise a pattern when he sees it.

This is the third time he’s found you out here, alone.

Twice was a coincidence. But three times?

Deliberate.

He needs to get to the bottom of this now.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he mutters, withdrawing his hands but lowering his hefty bulk onto one knee to be closer to your height. It’s only after he says it out loud that he realises, he’s right. You have been quiet lately. Moreso than usual.

For several, long moments, you remain inert, blankly staring down at the fabric cocoon you’ve found yourself in. “Have I?” you ask in a whisper, brows twitching as if they want to furrow but can’t muster up the energy to.

Humming pensively, the maker raises his head, keeping you in the corner of his watchful eye. “Been missin’ you at the anvil…” he admits, shrugging a massive shoulder to try and retain a modicum of indifference. If you only knew how much he looks forward to your company, he’d never be able to look you in the eye.

“In fact,” he adds, adjusting his weight, “Only time I seem to catch you nowadays s’when I find you out here. Where you aren’t s’posed to be.”

There might have once been a time when merely adding a stern inflection to his voice would send you cowering away from him. Some of the humans who are newer to the tree still do it. But you, over time, had stopped, realising that Ulthane was as likely to hurt you as he was to fly to the moon.

But it wasn’t often that he had to add those inflections. And if ever he did, it was usually because you or one of the others was doing something you really shouldn’t have been doing. Even then, you may not have cowered, but you’d certainly have the decency to look admonished, apologetic even. You’d offer the maker a quick, sheepish smile that worked wonders to appease him and earned him hours of teasing from Elanya and Yarin.

Now, however, he gets nothing. Not a flinch, nor a quibble. No sheepish yet disarming smile that puts a youthful quiver back into his heart. What he gets instead is a weary sigh, followed by a decidedly bitter, “Maybe I just want to be left alone, huh?”

A disconcerting pang hits him right in the pit of his stomach… Something is definitely wrong.

Perhaps it’s narcissistic of him to presume, but that one, barbed request from you is enough to set off a needling voice at the back of his mind, one that callously plants the seed that all of this - your behaviour, your apathy, your twilight excursions – somehow, it’s all his fault. Casting his brain about, he tries to think of something in particular he’d done that would cause you to seek distance from him, all the while pretending it doesn’t bother him nearly as much as it does. Aside from tossing your last ‘cig,’ he doesn’t land on anything that sticks out. But you’d fallen quiet and withdrawn long before that incident occurred.

Then again, he is still trying to wrap his head around all the complexities of the human social structure… As he considers it, he realises with a sinking feeling that it’s highly likely he’s committed some sort of faux-pas and never even noticed…

Shit.

Scrubbing a hand over the back of his neck, he untucks his braid from the confines of his tunic and exhales roughly, nostrils flared in agitation.

“Look…” he sighs, roving his gaze out to look at the silhouettes of a dozen, towering skyscrapers, “M’not… V’e always been more for brawn than brain, mm?” Pausing, he raps at his skull with a solid knuckle. “So… If I… said somethin’ I shouldn’t have… and it… changed the way you see me-…”

Again, his voice trails off, and he returns his eyes to you, finding you tilting your face up towards him with the tiniest crease sitting between your eyebrows.

Are you angry at him? Confused?

It’s so hard to tell sometimes. A human’s face can tell a thousand little stories with one twitch of the muscles, fluid in a way makers and other species could never hope to be.

Ulthane’s chest gives a rumble, like something massive and subterranean passing far beneath the Earth’s crust. He truly hopes you aren’t angry at him.

“Just…” A pair of immense shoulders sag dejectedly as the maker squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself before he pries them open again, peering down at you from underneath his crumpled brow. “Just tell me what I said,” he finally croaks, “And I’ll never say it again.” He never intended for it to sound so much like a wounded plea, wants to weld his mouth shut when his voice breaks unexpectedly.

Son of a bitch. These humans must be starting to rub off on him.

Deafening silence chases the end of his sentence, and for a time, he’s stuck observing your face fall gradually from a nearly imperceptible frown to a solemn, sympathetic wince.

“Ulthane… It… Hhh.” A rush of air bursts out of your parted lips, harder than a sigh. You’ve been doing that a lot lately, he realises. Dragging your eyes over towards the distant city, you gaze out at it for a second before returning them to the underside of Ulthane’s chin, your lips tilted down at the ground. “Listen. I’m not trying to be a dick, a-and I mean this in the best possible way… but it isn’t about you, I promise… You haven’t done anything wrong.” It’s the firmest voice you’ve used yet.

Glancing down, you blink miserably at the toes of your shoes poking out from under his oversized cowl. “I’m sorry,” you add, this time in a far gentler, wobbly lilt, “I’m sorry I told you I wanted to be left alone. It isn’t your fault.”

Oh… that’s… actually a lot more relieving than he’d care to admit out loud.

The speck of lightness that lifts his chest doesn’t last for long, however.

There still begs another question, one he’s hardly qualified to be asking… If your issue isn’t with something he’s said or done… then…

The notion suddenly occurs to him that you might be getting grief from someone else. One of your fellow humans, perhaps?

Before he can wrestle it down, a hot burst of protective indignation flares up in his chest. He’d have noticed, surely. Wouldn’t he? He’d know if one of his charges was being upset by someone while under his roof… Right?

Griping unhappily, Ulthane reminds himself that he’s nothing if not a persistent old bastard. And when he’d made his quiet, private oath to protect what remains of a species he inadvertently helped to eradicate, he didn’t just pledge his protection to their physical wellbeing.

The tremendous breath he exhales through his nostrils is strong enough to disturb the hairs on top of your head, a fleeting reminder of how even the smallest gesture from a man his size can affect you in some way…

“Right then,” he rumbles with a deliberate edge to his tone that sets your shoulders tensing under the soft weight of his cowl, “But there is somethin’ botherin’ you, aye?”

He sees you stiffen, watches the flicker of something raw and frantic pass over your dainty face. Then, he sees that mask of apathy fall back into place, hiding yourself away from him once more.

“Nothing’s bothering me, really,” you deflect, shrugging one shoulder as nonchalance might throw him off the scent.

Ulthane’s bushy eyebrows dip at the centre of his forehead. ‘Not having that...’

The sound of creaking leather and clanking metal fills the air as Ulthane adjusts himself onto two knees at your side, resting back on his hindquarters.

You actively jump at the sensation of a colossal palm cupping around your back, almost leaping away entirely before you realise what it is and force yourself to go still again, allowing the maker behind you to push warmth and sincerity into your windchilled bones.

As he covers your fragile spine with his hand, Ulthane’s instincts lay their rearing heads back down, appeased to have a physical wall of muscle and flesh standing between you and the outside world.

“Reckon I’d know if somethin’ was wrong with my favourite human,” he says, only half-joking, regarding you closely to gauge your reaction.

“Favourite?” you scoff wetly, “Now you’re just trying to butter me up.”

Giving a chuckle, he replies, “Maybe…” A heavy pause, then… “S’it workin’?”

Instead of a response, you suck down a lungful of cold air, letting it all go again in a slow, shaky breath. “You should go inside, Big Guy,” you whisper, turning to lean your weight against the wooden ridge again, “I’ll be fine in a minute. Just need a little more fresh air.”

Would it be hypocritical of him to call you a liar?

Shifting his weight, he hums - a tectonic, mellow sound coming from deep in the cavern of his chest. “Nah,” he decides quietly, “Reckon I’d rather stay out here with you till you tell me what’s wrong…”

He doesn’t say anything else. Doesn’t feel he needs to.

“Oh…” Your breath hitches. Already, you’ve started to tremble beneath his palm, and he’s fairly confident you can’t accredit it to the cold.

Persistent as he is, the Old One is also a patient maker. And while he doesn’t especially like the idea of letting you stay out here all night, if it gets him to the bottom of this silent state of mind you’re in, then it’s a bullet he’s happy to bite. Besides, he’s quick to remind himself that he’s here with you.

The other humans are safe inside, carefully watched over by the ever-attentive Yarin and a devoted Elanya. The pair have taken to guarding the upper nook where their charges slumber at night.

Which leaves Ulthane free to guard this wayward soul. He’s glad to. Outwardly, he wouldn’t usually even allude to keeping favourites. After all, it’s a badly kept secret that he has a soft spot for all the humans he’s brought here, even the elusive and ungovernable Jones who leaves the tree so frequently, Ulthane is convinced the man is trying to send him to an early grave.

But you… The soft spot he has for you is especially tender.

There in the darkness, he waits, silent and still, an unmoving sentry at your back.

Minutes pass, and only the hushed whispering of ten million leaves breaks the spell of quiet settled around you.

And then, an entirely different sound disturbs the peace. One that’s much closer to home.

That first wet, convulsing sob tugs the maker’s ears down a fraction, but he lets out a sigh, giving your back the gentlest of pats, encouraging another bleat of misery to jump out of you before you can stuff it back down your throat.

There you go…

Once the first few cries are shaken are loose, there’s no damming the flow.

Hands fly up to crush against your mouth as you lurch forwards into another sob, burying your face inside the relative privacy of your palms.

Before Ulthane can adjust his hand to catch you, your legs promptly buckle and give way under you, sending you crashing to your knees in front of the ridge and collapsing against it, turning sideways away from him, shoulder pressed to the wood.

All the while, his hand remains adhered to you.

Your back jumps up and down beneath his palm, broken sounds squeak out through the miniscule gaps between your fingers, and a confusing jumble of guilt and relief mingles together in the maker’s chest.

Crying isn’t something exclusive to humans, but they’re by far the most prone to it.

Ulthane tries not to dwell on the fact that he’s pushed you to this, like some, tenacious bully. His old soul yearns to extinguish any source of distress you might face. You’ve had enough anguish to last you a lifetime, after all. But the guilt he feels is buried well beneath a much more potent relief.

This had to happen.

‘This is good,’ he tells himself staunchly, trying in vain to steel his ancient heart against your soul-crushing cries, ‘This is better than the emotionless vacuum you were floating in before.’

Your body jerks viciously with each, strangled sob, teeth pressed against the skin of your palms to muffle each sound you emit.

You’re trying your best to be quiet. Subdued and secretive in your unravelling.

He knows he’s the one who wanted this to happen, but that doesn’t make it any less jarring to see you cry.

A century ago, if anyone were to ask Ulthane if he’d describe himself as a comforting maker, he’d have laughed himself hoarse. A bruiser like him? Comforting? He supposes it’s still laughable today.

Sometimes, he catches himself wishing he knew where Azrael had disappeared off to after the seals were broken. The angel would know what to say to you, no doubt. Daft bird is even more of a sap than Ulthane where humans are concerned, and ferociously intelligent to boot, even among Heaven’s scribes and scholars.

Why the White City’s brightest mage had decided that Ulthane was a maker to befriend, is a mystery that would have any sage scratching their heads and offering a helpless shrug.

‘Still,’ he muses, frowning gently down at the human quivering beneath his fingers, ‘You haven’t pulled away entirely yet.’

So perhaps, despite all of his clumsy, heavy-handedness, he might not be doing as terribly as he thinks he is…

Absently, Ulthane smooths his calloused thumb up and down your back, hyper-aware of the notches in your delicate spine. He’s glad he opted not to don his thick, leather gloves this evening. He feels gentler without them…

The cowl, however, has begun to slip off your shoulders, dislodged a little further with every breath you choke on.

Just as Ulthane withdraws his hand from your back and pinches the fabric to readjust it, his ears register a broken whisper drifting through the air.

“It’s all gone, Ulthane,” you squeeze out at last, hands cupped pitiably over your mouth so you can drag in a shuddering breath, “Everything’s gone. God – fuck!”

All at once, the cowl slips from his fingers and falls around you once more as the maker goes very still, his gigantic hand hovering stiffly above you. Slowly, a pair of pointed ears pin themselves against the sides of his skull, and a cold splash of realisation douses his chest in ice.

If he weren’t worried about startling you, he’d smack a palm over his forehead as comprehension ploughs into him like a runaway stone rolling down a hillside.

Of course…

How could he be so blind? Oh, he’s such a fool!

The most obvious reason is literally sitting in plain sight all around him, yet somehow, he didn’t see the woods for the bloody great tree slapped bang in the centre. He assumed your troubles were smaller, simpler. It feels like an insult to you, deducing that your despair was due to something so trivial as an untoward comment.

Hanging his head, Ulthane’s face twists up in shame.

Trembling like the leaves overhead, you clutch desperately to your own shoulders, fingertips bunching into the blue fabric draped over them. “What the Hell are we even doing?” you blurt out, ripping your hands away from your face and wringing them in front of you, “The world just fucking ended! It’s over, a-and we’re just sitting up here like… like fucking rats in a sinking ship!”

By now, you’re almost shouting, losing control of your own voice without any residual strength left to keep the emotions you’ve buried so deep from rising to the surface and bursting like pustules on your tongue.

It must hurt you to bare yourself like this, it is hurting you. The sudden change in your demeanour freezes Ulthane solid for a few, uncertain seconds, though he doesn’t stay motionless for long.

When you rush to swallow another breath, he stretches out an arm and envelopes you in his hand once more as if the weight of it might keep you from springing to your feet and fleeing at the slightest provocation.

You buckle under the appendage, leaning forwards to gulp in another lungful of air that collapses into a heart-wrenching sob. “I-I just-!” But you stuff your lips together to trap the rest of the words.

Ulthane latches onto your reluctance with a discontented hum. “Come on now,” he utters, wrapping large but cautious fingertips around your shoulder and trying to coax you into turning to face him, “Won’t do you no good keepin’ it all in now, eh?”

Your only response is to give your head a rapid shake, digging your fingernails into the cowl as you resist the giant’s gentle tugging. “I can’t,” you croak, voice hoarse.

“Yes,” the maker argues, “You can.”

It’s so matter of fact, you almost believe him.

For several, unpleasant moments, your breath continues to catch in your chest as your shoulders hitch up and down, and still you refuse to turn around and face the giant looming behind you.

Then all at once, like a flipped switch, the tension in your body disappears and you deflate like a ruptured lung, sagging in on yourself so abruptly, Ulthane jerks forwards, assuming you’ve passed out on him.

Before he can scoop you into his hand however, you shift, using your shoulder to shove away from the ridge and arduously manoeuvring yourself around until you’re leaning back against the solid wood. Reluctantly, Ulthane allows his hand to slide off your spine and it flops dejectedly into his lap.

You still won’t meet his gaze.

At least he can see your face though.

He always thought he had a heart of steel before he came to Earth, even liked to think that millennia of experience and trials would have left him immoveable and stoic like the maker heroes in Eideard’s stories.

It’s remarkably humbling to gaze down into the face of a human and realise he doesn’t know himself nearly as well as he likes to think he does. Because one glimpse of the wetness shining off your cheeks and the rivulets cutting glistening tracks down to your chin has Ulthane Blackhammer fighting back the urge to press a hand over his lurching heart.

He draws back a little with a soft intake of breath, gathering his thoughts before he presses his lips together into a resolute frown and leans towards you once more, his monstrous fingers shuddering with the effort of moving slowly and carefully enough to brush the pad of his thumb across your cheek.

That’s when you finally look at him.

Dazzling eyes shine with tears as they venture up to meet his own.

Your mouth opens, and in reverent anticipation, Ulthane pulls his hand away from your face, ears tipped forwards to listen.

“I just want it to be over,” you utter, so softly that he has to strain to hear you, “I can’t stand it… I can’t stand just waiting around to die…”

Ulthane’s jaw clenches firmly shut.

“Who says you’re dyin’?” he retorts, perhaps a bit more sharply than he intended, “Yer not goin’ to die.”

This time, your shoulders jump with humourless laugh instead of a sob.

“Look around you, Ulthane,” you hiccough, gesturing a floppy hand at the city to your back, “Every day could be the day those demons decide to climb up here and finish what they started. We all know it’s bound to happen. I wish they’d just… get it over with!”

The maker opens his mouth to argue, to gruffly retort that he’d never let the bastards get within a metre of you without having to go through him first, but you’re already carrying on.

“We’re all just living on borrowed time! And I can’t-!”

One again, your voice falters and fades, dying in your throat.

Swallowing audibly, you let your head fall forwards until your chin almost rests on your chest.

Ulthane works his clenched jaws apart, watching from beneath heavily furrowed brows as you lift your hands up in front of your face and stare down at your palms as if there’s an answer in them somewhere, if only you could see it.

“I just can’t keep doing this…” you finally murmur, letting your arms fall into your lap.

Apprehensive, Ulthane prompts, “Doing what?”

You don’t reply right away, and his heart is steadily making its way up into his throat by the time you pose a question, disregarding his own. “You ever think… it might be better to just… like… get it over with?” you ask, eyes pinched in tormented thought, “Instead of waiting for something even worse to happen?”

Suddenly, Ulthane hates the idea of you being so close to that two-hundred-foot drop.

The hand he’s braced on the ground to keep himself steady curls into a fist until his knuckles dig achingly into the wood underneath him. “No,” he all but growls in response, curling his lips back at an unseen threat, “It wouldn’t be better.”

“God…” Your head tips back, the base of your skull clunking against the ridge behind you as you squint tearfully up at the maker. If he looks closely, he almost imagines he can see the full moon reflected in your eyes. “There’s no future for us… We have nothing left. Everything humanity has ever worked for… millions of years of history… it’s gone, Ulthane. It’s just gone.” Another couple of tears slip past your lashes and dribble down your cheeks. Your bottom lip quivers. “There’s no coming back from this… is there? So why are we still bothering?”

Suddenly, the maker hauls himself to his boots – and he’ll be damned if he acknowledges the spike of real, unfamiliar fear that jabs him through the ribs. “Stop it,” he warns… Begs…

For a moment longer, you just look at him with that tired, beaten frown, then you lower your eyes and the moonlight disappears from them, leaving them dark and shadowed by your eyelashes.

“Yeah,” you sniff, “That’s why I’ve been quiet lately…”

Ulthane’s blood rushes through his ears and he’s struck with the urge to start pacing up and down along the tree’s outer path. Later, he’ll recognise it as adrenaline.

“Stone’s breath…” he huffs mindlessly, scrubbing a hand down over his beard. He’s bristling against an enemy he can’t put his fist through, and it wars with the maker’s reflex.

This is… this is so much bigger than he is… and that’s saying something.

He thought he’d be prepared for this if it happened. But all he’s been doing is burying his head in the sand, hoping that optimism and a steady, day to day routine of survival would keep the humans from losing their last dregs of hope.

The surrender in your voice, your eyes, your words… It’s like you’re there already.

What if he says the wrong thing? What if he can’t pull your toes back off the ledge?

What would Azrael say? What would Eideard say?

Something poignant, no doubt. About how hope is never lost so long as you’re still alive to fight for it.

But Ulthane is a defender, not a sage. His priority is your safety.

In a moment of clarity, he clings to that one fact, pushing for reassurance above all else.

Rattled, though not quite ready to face why, the Old one levels a finger at you, pointing it determinedly down at your face. “Now, you listen to me,” he starts, “I won’t hear no talk about how you’re not comin’ back from this. Moment you start thinkin’ like that, it’s really over. And I’ll certainly not be lettin’ you think those demon’s’ll be the end of you. Alright? You’re livin’ to the end of a long, safe life, so help me Stonefather.”

At the end of his reprimand, you try to smile up at him, a pitying thing that tells him everything he needs to know.

You don’t believe him.

“You have a future,” he continues, steadfast, “I’ll give you a future. I’ll make one for you, carve it out with my bare hands if I have to.”

He’d drag you kicking and screaming to the life you deserve if it comes down to it.

Eyes drooping heavily, you start to look down again.

“M’not lettin’ you lose hope,” Ulthane growls in response, and this time, he can’t stop himself from reaching down and curling a fist around you, gathering you up into his palm until you sit small and vulnerable at its centre.

You look a little surprised by the motion, blinking wetly into the old smith’s scowl as he raises you to his face and levels you with a look so full of conviction, you recoil from it, as if pushed by his sheer force of will. “You’re makin’ it through this,” he tells you unwaveringly, warm breath brushing against your collarbones. “You have to see how it turns out.”

“Even if it hurts?” you ask in a wobbly voice.

He stops just short of saying that he wouldn’t let anything hurt you. But that isn’t what you need to hear. He’ll prove it to you through action.

“Even then,” he relents instead.

Resignation settles across your face then, but it isn’t the same as it was before. It’s a kind of acceptance of the inevitable, but the inevitable isn’t death.

It’s Ulthane Blackhammer.

“But…” Still, you protest. “But I’m so fucking tired, Ulthane.”

Without hesitation, he shrugs a shoulder and says, “I’ll carry you.”

“That’s not what I-“

“- I know what you meant,” the maker cuts you off, fixing you with a sharp eye, “F’you’re tired. I’ll carry you. I’m a fair bit strong, case you hadn’t noticed. But don’t go forgettin’; you’re a fighter.”

You try to shake your head with a weak laugh, but he catches your chin with a crooked forefinger and tilts your face back towards him. “You are,” he insists, meeting your owlish gaze, “Been fightin’ to keep goin’ since day one. I… can see that now.”

He really can. He’s just sorry he never told you he noticed before.

“You think you can’t come back from this? You’re wrong. You won’t know unless you try. N’those other humans in there-“ He jerks his head backwards towards the tree. “-They’re gonna need all the help they can get to rebuild. You think Jones’d remember to feed himself without you remindin’ him?

There! At last, the minutest wobble of your lips as they twitch upwards at their corners.

Chest swelling with a modest injection of triumph, Ulthane cocks his own grin at you whilst you wipe your eyes on the sleeve of your jacket.

“Now, you just let ol’ Ulthane worry about those demons,” he announces, “You worry about gettin’ some proper shuteye. Can’t teach Elanya to play cards if you’re noddin’ off every five minutes, ey?”

A laugh this time. It’s a soft, warped thing with too much moisture, but it’s still a laugh. He counts that as a win.

There’s still the same, bone-deep languor clinging to your face, yet even that is a vast improvement to the indifference you’ve been displaying of late. Quirking your head to one side, you regard the maker ponderously for a minute, brows knitting across your forehead.

Then, “You really care about us, don’t you?”

Caught off guard, Ulthane’s ears tip down, and he instinctively glances over his shoulder at the hollow to check that nobody is lurking there before returning his attention to you, lifting one shoulder in a bashful shrug.

“Well… I, erm…” Clearing his throat, he lowers his voice and shoots you a gruff look. “Don’t you go spreadin’ that around…”

As if it wasn’t as plain as the nose on his face.

Eager to change the subject, though not so eager to be rid of that fond, sombre look he's receiving, the maker twists his head around and bobs it towards the tree's entrance. "Ready to head back in?" he broaches, "You can sleep down by the anvil on my cowl, if you want." One of the beds would be better for you, but... selfishly perhaps, he wants you close tonight.

You seem to agree, offering the maker a shy nod in return.

"Yeah," you acquiesce, leaning back into the pads of his fingers that curve up behind you, providing support when your jaws part with a wide yawn.

Trying not to smile fondly at the sight, Ulthane begins tromping steadily back inside the tree, his nerves settling down as he carries you nearer to the light and warmth.

"Ulthane?"

"Mm?" he rumbles in response.

"Thanks... for caring, I mean. I owe you one."

His footsteps falter just for a second. Abaddon's face springs unbidden into his mind's eye. A golden sword and a promise that all would be well...

Swallowing hard, Ulthane wafts the memories away like a bad smell and offers his dour response.

"You don't owe me a thing."

[a-shade-of-blue]

By 2025, Palestinians in Gaza will have suffered through 453 days of genocide. My friend Mahmoud (@mahmoudfamily7) has 17 family members trapped in Gaza rn. He has been extremely worried lately because his grandmother is now in hospital. His elderly grandmother is a former cancer patient and is suffering from various chronic diseases: pulmonary fibrosis (a lung disease), hypoxia (difficulty in breathing), high carbon dioxide levels, and various heart and blood pressure problems. With the stress and worry that comes with going through a genocide and the lack of medical resources, her condition is getting worse.

However, even the hospitals cannot provide her with the treatment she needs. Mahmoud tells me there is no bed for her grandma in the hospital, and there are no doctors. A lot of the times they cannot provide her with the oxygen to help her breath, and there is no medication, not even basic medicine like painkillers. Hospital in Gaza are being signaled out for attacks by the Israeli forces. With Israel's relentless attacks, the number of functioning hospitals have only decreased.

Other than his sick grandma, Mahmoud's family also consist of 10 children, including 3 infants! Moreover, Mahmoud's sister is also suffering from various infections caused by a difficult birth in unhygienic conditions!

Little aid is entering Gaza, and of the aid that managed to enter Gaza, a lot of them are being looted by armed gangs which are then sold back to displaced people at outrageous prices. Thus, basic necessities are getting up to 8000% more expensive than usual! Mahmoud is fundraising so that his family can buy basic necessities to keep themselves alive. He has been fundraising for more than 7 months now, but donations are slow and little, and he has only reached 7% of campaign goal! By 2025 he will have been fundraising for more than 230 days, please give him and his family more support!

Vetted! #3 on @/gaza-evacuation-funds vetted list here, #117 on @/gazavetters vetted list. Also vetted by association!

Only $5,480 CAD raised of $80K goal!

tagging for reach; reply for removal; we thank you in advance!

@pomodoko @theygender @kagrenacs @godfrey-the-chaos-duck @justsomeantifas

@catwire @professionalchaoticdumbass @postanagramgenerator @imlizy @radioactive-corpsegirl

@duncebento @littlestpersimmon  @bisexuel @trans-axolotl @britomartis

@ontheoutside-lookingin @ouroborosreilig @axoqiii @wrightfamily @fly-sky-high-09

 @itwashotwestayedinthewater @stars-and-soda   @the-arachnocommunist @pawberri @samuraisharkie

 @dormont @z0nic @ival-eon @yekkes @the-nobody-tournament

@rikebe @girl4pay @5weekdays @turtletoria @brittklein18

@lakesbian@tolbyccia @shuttershocky @papenathys @shadowofmoths

@beetledrink @bfpnola @mail-me-a-snail @mtsodie @autisticmudkip 

@onionpainter @spelldealer @sunn-mechanic @basyacriptid @manualamadrugada

@pigswithwings @certifiedsexed @tpwrtrmnky @closet-keys @extremelycursedimages

@medusadyke @punkitt-is-here @whatcoloristhatcat @rickybabyboy @weirdmarioenemies

@tamamita @hazem-khalil

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

@mahmoudfamily7, @mahmoudmaherfam, @mahmoudfamily, @mahmoudfamilyy, @mahmoufamilyyy, @mahmoufamilia, @mahmoudfamily1

[whitedarkmoonflower]

HELLO! I would like to request a full on fluffy modern!Sihtric fic, where he's desperately in love with reader and he takes her on their first date, and does everything he can to impress her 🥰 (I hope you like the idea! just want to give you a feel good fic to write)

Authors note: thank you @sihtricfedaraaahvicius so much for this lovely request! In the beginning I thought it’s going to be a short and sweet drabble, but then I started writing and it just got longer and longer and now the story already has more than 8000 words and I haven’t  fully finished yet, so I decided to split it into several parts. Don’t worry - that sweet date will come somewhere towards the end, please, just be patient …

Summary: Sihtric – a talented artist – juggles between his passion for painting and his job as a graphic designer. At the corporate Christmas party, Sihtric's unspoken feelings for his boss are tested when a twist of fate brings them closer than expected. 

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Warnings: actually none, fluff, suppressed feelings

Word Count: 3,4 K

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

Sihtric's alarm buzzed softly, pulling him out of his slumber with a gentle tune. He'd done it again, painted till the wee hours, lost in his own world. Rubbing his eyes, he sat up. 

"Man, today's gonna be a long one," he mumbled, stretching wide enough to feel every vertebra pop.

Hopping out of bed, he wandered to the bathroom. While scrubbing his teeth and waking himself up with a splash of cold water, his mind played out the day's agenda. And looming large on that list was that meeting with you, his boss.

He had joined the advertising firm as a graphic designer just six months back, when it once again had become evident that his unpredictable art sales were simply not enough to cover rent and other bills. And in this short time, he had come to genuinely admire you. It wasn't just because you were the master over his paycheck. No, it was more. You were smart and intelligent, with a discerning eye, having worked with some of the industry's best, always full of energy and bursting with unexpected ideas.

As his coffee brewed, filling the room with a comforting aroma, Sihtric glanced at his workstation. Sketches, notes, and reminders littered the space. He had poured his soul into designs for a crucial client this week.

Sipping his coffee, warmth spreading through his fingers, Sihtric's mind drifted. He thought back to his job interview with you - how awe-struck he had been by your charisma. Every tiny detail from that day was imprinted in his mind: the way your hair framed your face, that crisp white blouse, your piercing gaze, and the assertive yet gentle tone of your voice. It felt like a dream, one where he forgot the reason he was even in that room to begin with.

You looked down at his portfolio and then back up at him, your gaze unyielding.

"Sihtric, I see you've worked with a few ad agencies before. Can you tell me about a particularly challenging project you've undertaken and how you tackled it?"

Those eyes of yours, he got trapped in them like a butterfly in a giant coweb, the question almost going unnoticed. "Oh, um, yeah," he started, voice wavering a touch, "So, there was this campaign... for a... thing, and I did, well, design stuff?"

Your eyebrow raised in a playful challenge, a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, "Design stuff? Could you elaborate, please?"

Embarrassed, he tried to muster a clearer answer. "Right, what I meant was I led the visual side of this big campaign. We had... differing views in the team. But, I managed to sort it out, and... made some designs?" He was mentally slapping himself on the face for his incoherence, but there was nothing he could do about it. His mind was racing. He couldn't help but notice the little details – the glint of your necklace, the soft curve of your lips. Vivid images of your fingers brushing against his skin or tangling in his hair made him sweat and he could swear his heart had jumped to his throat.

You leaned forward, placing his portfolio on the desk. "Sihtric, take a deep breath. I'm interested in your work and your experience. Let's try that again. Take your time."

He nodded, grateful for the second chance. Drawing a long breath, he tried to push aside his nervous admiration for you to give a more composed answer. The whole meeting remained a hazy whirlwind for him. Exiting your office, he felt like he'd just finished a marathon, convinced he’d made a fool of himself and butchered his chances. The real shocker came the next day when your secretary called to tell him he'd landed the job.

Sometimes he pondered if he should've declined. He never foresaw the toll it'd take on his heart. Sure, you were drop-dead gorgeous, but it wasn't just that. It was the air around you, the way you carried yourself, the balance between assertiveness and genuine warmth.

And therein lay the rub. Each interaction, from official meetings to casual chat near the coffee machine, even the fleeting moments your fingers grazed while sharing documents, tested Sihtric’s composure. He'd often find himself lingering on your laugh a second too long or jumping at chances to help you out, constantly trying to dial back before raising suspicion.

He had a love-hate relationship with big projects, especially the one he was working on now. The upside was of course spending more time with you – those endless late brainstorming evenings, project discussions gulping down morning coffees, or those afternoon progress check-ins. And then there were of course those quick breaks with some casual chats about movies or music. He lived for these moments, yet they twisted his gut, making the 'keep it professional' attitude so much harder. 

Man, when you'd burst into laughter over some silly office joke or shared tidbits from your weekend, it was like a sneak peek into the real you, the person behind the boss. And, boy, did it send him spiralling.

It was a rollercoaster of emotions. The giddy highs from just being close to you followed by sinking  lows, realising his feelings might always remain a secret. Sihtric took a deep breath, setting down his drained coffee cup. Another day, another challenge to keep that secret under wraps.

And let's be real. The odds were stacked against him. On one end, there was him – an artist, struggling for recognition and forced to juggle between his passion and job in order to be able to pay his bills. On the other, there was you – successful and recognised art director of one of the city's top ad agencies, mastering work challenges with a mix of grit and grace. The idea that you might ever look his way seemed... well, ludicrous and the fact that he was your direct subordinate only emphasised how absolutely fantasy like this notion was.

—----------------------------------------------------

The company's annual Christmas party was always a big deal  — a bright spot in the midst of deadlines and stress. The office would light up, literally, with twinkling lights and festive baubles, and for a night, it'd transform into a party wonderland. The aroma of mulled wine and roasted chestnuts wafted through the air as soft carols played in the background making everybody feel warm and fuzzy.

Sihtric was in his element, chatting away with buddies about holiday escapades and the usual office gossip. The night was looking good, he was happy and truly enjoying himself, especially because he'd been recently introduced to this big-shot art lover, who seemed genuinely interested in his unique art style. And thanks to this unexpected acquaintance an exhibition was already in preparation – a dream Sihtric had cherished for years was coming true. Late nights, brushes, paints, and the chaos of bringing art to life now dominated his hours and he revelled in that even if some darker rings around his eyes testified to the lack of proper sleep.

Amid this whirlwind of preparation, another thought continually hovered at the edge of Sihtric's mind — inviting you to his exhibition. He wanted you to see beyond the office guy, to the artist, the dreamer. What better time than a Christmas party? Every time he played the scene in his mind, it would end differently. Sometimes he'd imagine you looking thrilled and promising to attend. Other times, he'd envision a polite but distant decline.

And so he was anticipating your arrival, feverishly brainstorming about the perfect moment for his invitation, as the door swung open, revealing you, looking radiant in a black dress that accentuated every line of your body, leaving Sihtric momentarily speechless and stumbling over his words. He almost choked on his drink, his gaze glued to you, following every so gracious move, his jaw slowly dropping and eyes filling with an expression of deep frustration.

You were laughing, your eyes gleaming with joy as they met those of the tall, dashing man beside you. His arm was draped casually around your waist, a possessive yet tender gesture that made Sihtric's heart sink.

Every laugh you shared, each subtle touch, and those warm exchanges of glances between you and the guy  – it all was like a dagger to Sihtric's heart. A cocktail of jealousy and a pinch of sadness brewed within him, although he kept reminding himself he had no claim over you. He had never voiced his feelings, nor had he let himself believe that someone as radiant and accomplished as you could ever see past his name tag. "Get a grip, Sihtric. She's out of your league, and you had always known that," he told himself. 

But still there had always been that small, naive part of him that harboured hope, whispering tales of “what ifs”. What if one day everything would change and he would muster the courage to share his feelings? But tonight, that hope was crushed under the weight of reality.

Pulling together every remaining bit of his self-control, Sihtric pivoted back to the conversation at hand, all the while battling the urge to keep peeking over at you. But from the corner of his eye, he still saw you both — so wrapped up in each other, dancing to your own rhythm.

As the night rolled on, he kinda lost track of you two. A part of him scolded himself for even daydreaming. Of course, someone as magnetic as you couldn't be single. But, man, it didn’t dull the sting.

Feeling the need to step away for a moment and escape the party's cheerful cacophony, Sihtric made his way to the big, spacious balcony. He hoped the chilly night air might help clear his head from the whirlwind inside. The evening had started so full of hope and anticipation and now was completely ruined for him. Sihtric lit his cigarette, as he suddenly caught a murmured conversation approaching. Hoping for some privacy, he ducked behind a column, trying to blend into the shadows.

He heard at least two people stepping out on the balcony, and suddenly, it was your unmistakable voice that reached him, filled with pain and frustration. "Why her, of all people? My own secretary!" you exclaimed.

"It just... happened," the defensive reply came, which he recognized as your boyfriend's voice.

You shot back, "And you thought hiding it was the answer? I had to find out at our office Christmas party?"

The man mumbled something incomprehensible in response. 

"We're done. Just go. I need to be alone right now," Sihtric heard your voice, quivering with a mix of anger and hurt. 

Caught off guard, Sihtric felt awkward overhearing such a raw, personal exchange. He contemplated stepping out and admitting he was there, but before he could, he heard your boyfriend's quick exit and the sharp sound of the balcony door closing.

He briefly considered staying hidden and letting the moment pass, but seeing the unmistakable pain in your stance, he instantly ditched the idea. Taking a breath, he gave a gentle cough to signal his presence and slowly stepped forward, finding you looking distraught, the twinkling lights from inside casting a glow that made your tear-streaked face glisten. It stung seeing you like this, especially when it felt like he was trespassing on such a personal moment.

Embarrassment and shock pulsed through you with every beat of your heart. Of everyone to witness this breakdown, it just had to be Sihtric - not some fleeting acquaintance, but someone you saw and interacted with every day, someone who knew you and respected you. At least until now.

A wave of panic washed over you. Would he think differently of you now? Your carefully curated image of always being composed was now in pieces. The barriers you'd built so diligently over time  – gone in a heartbeat.

 “Of all the moments...” you whispered.

Sihtric, sensing your turmoil and looking for a distraction handed you a tissue. The balcony was wrapped in a heavy silence until you mustered, "I'm sorry. You didn’t need to be a part of that."

"I didn’t mean to intrude," he responded, "It just happened so fast."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "This isn’t how I imagined tonight would go."

"We've all been there," he said gently, trying to lighten the mood.

Choking back a laugh, you replied, "Yeah, but usually not with an audience."

He grinned, trying to keep things casual. "Think of me as a very interested passerby."

Seeing your surprise, he quipped, "Your ex might think he's a shooting star, but to me, he seemed more like a sparkler that fizzled out. And for the record – he's an idiot."

A small laugh escaped your lips, and you shook your head. "Nice try. But thank you. Really."

Sihtric gave a playful shrug. "I’m just being real. But hey, are you okay?"

You paused, your voice softer, "Been better. Thanks for lightening the mood, though."

He took a breath, "Look, I don't want to intrude any more than I have, but you seem like you could use company right now. Can I do something for you? Can I get you a drink perhaps?"

You mulled it over briefly, then nodded, "Alright. As if things could get any worse."

With a comforting smile, Sihtric said, "I’ll be right back."

—-----------------------------------------

The party's noise faded to a dull murmur as you both got lost in the chat.

Sihtric felt a mix of things. It pained him to see you upset, but man, he couldn't deny the thrill of getting this unplanned time with you. He kept sneaking looks, thinking how your smile looked even cooler up close.

A strand of your hair playfully draped across your face, and he had to resist the urge to gently push it back. And with the soft background music, an invitation to dance nearly escaped his lips. But he held back, sensing it might be a step too far.

His art exhibition was on his mind too. He wanted to share it, just needed to slide it into the conversation smoothly.

"You know," he started, swirling the last sip of his drink thoughtfully.  "Besides the whole graphic designer stuff, I paint. There's something magic about splashing colours on a canvas."

You looked intrigued. "Is that so? I always thought your designs had an extra touch of soul. Like there's a story hidden in every piece."

Sihtric chuckled, his eyes brightening, clearly stoked by your comment. The two of you continued to chat, the conversation flowing effortlessly. Emboldened by the ambiance and perhaps that second cocktail, Sihtric leaned in a bit, "You know, I actually have an exhibition coming up soon. It's a collection of my recent works. I... I’d really love it if you could come. I think you might appreciate the stories behind the paintings."

You blinked, processing this. You knew Sihtric was talented, but an entire exhibition? "I'm in," you smiled. "Always had a soft spot for art, especially when it's by someone I know."

His eyes brightened noticeably, and he fought to keep his composure, a warmth spreading across his cheeks.

As the evening wore on, the earlier events combined with the cocktails left you in a heady state. Your laughter became louder, and your steps weren't as sure. Noticing your state and the watchful eyes around, Sihtric decided to step in. This was not the right place to put your vulnerability on display with all the employees and bosses of the company gathered in one place. 

Fetching your coat, he gently wrapped it around you, subtly guiding you towards the exit.

“Okay, boss, looks like it’s home time,” Sihtric said, his tone light, attempting to infuse some humour into the situation.

You chuckled, a sound that was melodious yet laced with the unmistakable touch of too many cocktails. “I’m not ready for the night to end,” you protested mildly, though made no effort to resist as Sihtric waved down a taxi.

When the car pulled up, Sihtric had a moment of awkward realisation - he had no clue where you lived. That was a detail that, somehow, had never come up in all your office interactions.

“So, uh, where to?” he ventured, a hint of embarrassment in his voice.

You rattled off an address, the words a bit slurred but intelligible. When he recognized it as one of the city’s posh neighbourhoods, Sihtric's eyebrows rose a notch. 

The gentle hum of the car's engine provided a steady backdrop to your sporadic, light-hearted giggles. Every so often, Sihtric would sneak a peek at you. Tonight had been a whirlwind, and he was spinning from the rapid shifts in emotion. One moment he felt he'd lost any chance with you, the next, he learned you were single again. And amidst it all, he had managed to extend an invite to his exhibition. But as he looked at your tipsy, carefree state, he silently hoped you'd remember their conversation come morning.

Upon arrival at your grand apartment complex, you leaned into him, the evening's indulgences making your steps falter. As you fumbled around in your pockets for keys that were conspicuously absent, the reality of the situation began to set in.

"Oh no," you murmured, panic lining your voice, "I think I left my handbag at the party."

Sihtric's eyes widened as he processed your words. "Are you sure? Think. Where did you last see it?"

You tried to recall, but the fog of alcohol muddled your memories. "I...I don’t know. I think I left it on the bar counter when I went to get a drink."

Sihtric sighed, taking a moment to think. Feeling your weight lean into him as you struggled to maintain your balance, he instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist to stabilise you.

"Okay, let's think this through," Sihtric began, his voice calm and measured, "Going back to the party venue at this hour might not be the best idea. They're likely cleaning up or closing already. Tomorrow first thing, we can check for your handbag. For tonight, do you have any friends or family nearby?"

Your head shake was slow and a bit exaggerated. "They're miles away."

“Any chance there’s a spare key somewhere? Maybe a friendly neighbour?" he asked.

You hesitated, "I... I've kept to myself mostly."

In the quiet night, the predicament seemed to amplify. Here he was, in the dead of night, with his drunken boss outside her apartment, both locked out. He could never have imagined a scenario like this.

After a deep breath, he said, "Alright, look, I have a couch at my place. It's not much, but it's comfortable. You can crash there for the night, and we’ll sort everything out in the morning."

You blinked, a bit caught off guard by the unexpected offer. On any normal day, you would've politely declined. But right now, with your thoughts swimming in a cocktail haze, you giggled and responded, "Really? Are you sure?"

Sihtric smiled, "It's not a problem. It's late, you need a place, and I can't, in good conscience, leave you out here."

The car ride to Sihtric's place was a tranquil one. You leaned into the window's cool embrace, fighting off sleep, while Sihtric's mind raced, piecing together the night's unexpected twists.

The dim lighting of the apartment complex hallway cast elongated shadows as Sihtric tried to guide you up the stairs. But with every step, it became more apparent that the task was not going to be easy. Your laughter, interspersed with hiccups and mumbled comments about your ex-boyfriend, echoed in the quiet corridor. And then, without warning, your laughter turned into soft sobs.

Sihtric, concerned, looked down to find tears streaming down your face. "Hey, hey," he tried to console, "Husch, it's okay."

"I just can't believe he... he..." you hiccupped, struggling to find words, the hurt evident in your eyes.

Seeing you in this state and realising that climbing the stairs in your condition would be an ordeal, Sihtric made a quick decision. Gently, he swept you up in his arms. It wasn't about your weight but more the electric jolt from the closeness, that sudden rush of intimacy that had his heart doing flips in his chest. Instead of pushing him away, you snuggled deeper into his embrace, your head finding its natural resting place on his shoulder.

Feeling your soft breaths against his neck and the gentle grip of your fingers, he had to fight to keep his balance. The ticklish sensation of your hair brushing against his cheek, your soothing breathing rhythm, and the lingering scent of your perfume all combined to form a heady mix that sent his head spinning. Every part of him was hyper-aware of you, so close and real, making everything else fade into the background.

Managing to unlock his apartment door, he stepped inside and gently placed you on his bed. "Just... just stay here for a second," he whispered, moving quickly to rummage through his closet for spare sheets and blankets for the couch.

But when he turned back, the gentle sounds of your breathing told him you'd already drifted off to sleep. For a moment Sihtric stood frozen, absorbing the sight before him - the serene rise and fall of your breath, the way the dim light from the street painted your face in soft shades. It was a moment of quiet beauty. Your hair splayed out, lips slightly parted, lashes casting shadows—everything about you in this moment felt so intimate, personal. It was a sight he'd never imagined he'd witness. 

Despite the unexpected turn the evening had taken, a warm feeling settled in his chest. He carefully removed your shoes and tucked you in, making sure you were comfortable. And this time he gave in to his urge to brush a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek for a moment, silently wishing he could be the rock you leaned on, the one to chase away any sadness. In his heart, he knew he'd move mountains just to keep you from any pain. You deserved nothing but happiness, and the thought of someone causing you heartache infuriated him.

With you sleeping soundly, he settled on the couch, wrapping himself in the cosiness of blankets. As sleep claimed him, a dreamy smile played on his lips—a dream where he was your hero.

[royallygray]

On the way back from a trip, I watched Wall-E for the first time on the plane. I liveblogged it because i thought it would be great.

It was.

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR WALL-E :D

also I am Not sorry for the typos

also I was using it/its for Wall-E and Eve and then I started using ae/aer for Wall-E and she/her for Eve just fyi

ANYWAYS ENJOY THIS THING

-- -- * -- --

2:20 what happened to my precious wind turbines???? :(

also tf is the song at the beginning

3:00 WALL E??? OMG THEYRE A RADIO BOI

wait this is literally the plot of my original story

LUNCH BOX

cricket :)

4:19 he's made a city out of trash :(

there is a baby crying on my flight :(

WERE ZOOMING

buy large gas???

04:57 wait so Wall-E is a brand of robot that cleans things? what's Eve gonna be im excited

OH MY GOD THE LITTLE CRICKET AND WALL E ARE BESTIES

turbulence on air :D

Wheeeeeeeeeee

05:10 there's a dead wall e :(

05:20 OH MY GOD THERES ABOUT TEN ZILLION DEAD WALL-E'S AA

NOOO

MY BOI :(

05:51 "too much garbage in your face? there's plenty of space out in space!" fuck you don't pollute space that's our space. Maybe not your space actually but it's MY space and don't put your stupid garbage in MY SPACE

07:15 aww fairy lights :D

TAPE :D ITS A RECORD TAPE :D

There's a spork in the lunchbox

why is there a rubix cube in the lunchbox

omg it's confused about whether the spork is a spoon or a fork :(

and it just put it on its own spot

like non-binary people :)

:( it wants someone to hold its hand :( it wants company :(

THE STARS

nope it was smog and the dust on the screen. rip

wtf is blowing up????

the cricket!!!!

09:57 it hibernates :(

and it swings itself to sleep :(

Wall-E needs some sun. go look at the sun, starshine :)

THE WALKING INTO THINGS IS REAL ASF WHY AM I RELATING TO A ROBOT

that's a nasty looking sun

POWER GAINED LETS GOOOO

NOOOOAOWJQJHW CRICEJT MY BELOVED NOOOOO

CRICKWT COME BACK

cricket is alive :DD

omg the bra 😭

it's a collecter :D

ping pong :)

ENGAGEMENT RING?? DAMN

IT JUST THREW AWAY THE RING AND KEPT THE CUSHION BOX 😭

FIRE EXTINGUISHER LMAOOO

PLANT :D :D :D

PLANT IN BOOT :D

CRICJET

wtf is the red light

I don't like that

what is it

what are ALL THE RED KIFHTS

IM SCARED

WALL E NOOOOOO

mans just dug dug dug dig diggity

wtf is that

id be scared too if I were wall e

is that the big ship that was there in the beginning

omg such a great disguise 😭

EVE :D

eve seems very tech advanced

OKG HEAVENLY

WALLES JUST LIKE "ITS ANOTHER CREATUEE :D"

bro all that pollution came down to deposit one robot

walle does not look comfy

FLY MY DARLING

windshield wipers??? in the eyes??? 😭

girlypop is a weapon

what do eves beeps mean???

NO CRICKET NOOOOO

CRICKET YOUVE BEFIRNSSD EVE

NO EVE DONT KKLL WALLE

eve wtf was that

are Wall-E and eve actually human size?? and it's just. idk

rip Wall-E they're going through it

what is eve even doing

also she's got anger management issues

me trying to get close to my moots

eve speaks :)

classified -_-

SHAEKNF NAMES :D :D :D :D

she laughs :D

eve NOOO

cricket??? where's cricket???

walle took you to its secret hideout you better be appreciative

cricker got a granola bar

oh she's ashamed that she broke it :(

BUBBLE WRAP :DDD

rubix cube

TAPE PLS WKRN :DDDD

YAY

EVE CHILL

YES DARLINF

wait no

chill girlypop

its got new eyes :)

walles like. raising their eyebrows

I'm gonna try to use neopronous for walle now because why not

ae/aer

LIGHTER

EVE NO

FIREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

ae just wants to hold her hand

SHES ASCENDING

nOOOO she stole aer plant NOOOOOO

GIVE AER AER PLANT

GIVE AER AER PLANT

NO AER'S CRYING NOOOO

PEORECTION

electrocution

CHRIST.AS KJGHRS

OMG RHIS IS SO SWEET

WALL-E + EVE 😭 IM GONNA SOB NOOOO

AE JUST WANTS TO HILD HER HAND NOOOOO

EXCEPT SHE DOESNT HAVE HANDS ANYMORE

IM SADDDSD

wait there's a hand

it's just not mutual :(

THE MOONNN

NOOOOO

AE'S PLAYING PONG AGAINST AESELF :((((

8000 VS 0

it's cloudy with a chance of meatballs rn

lighter

NO EVE

DONT RAKE MT DAUGHTER AAAY YOU STIPID SPACESHIP

EVE MO

WALLE

FLY WALLE FLY

PROTECT CRICKET AND FLY

no there are multiple eves

RAKE OFFDFFF

WALLE HANG ON LITTLE ONE

the subtitles are just [Wall-E screaming] 😭

NOOO CRICKET IS ALONE NOW

CRICKET NOOOOO

wait why the fuck did they just destroy so many satellites wtf

oh earth looks NASTY

THAT IS ONE NASTY LOOKIN PLANET

WALLE NO

omg phew

AE FOUND EVE :D

MOON

MURICA 💪

SUN :D

just got all the solar power ever ae did

MILKY WAY :D

OMG CLOUD

it's the huge ass tech plane

axiom

bro how long did that take to fucking build

that thing is bigger than earth tf

gravity :)

EVE NO

Wall-E what are you doing

38:31 they're getting pissed off by Wall-E'S existence :(

39:20 that cleaning bot is PISSED

aww they just realized they can go off the lines :)

mate GET ON TOP OF HER (not in that way) pls just OMG ride the same cart. pls. do not get separated from her pls

those guys are right next to each other wtf

John

A is for Axiom your home I STG IF THIS IS WHAT EDUCATION IS FOR

A is for Apple, your iPads

B is for Best Buy, where you get your iPads

C is for idk. cock

lunch in a cup. I wanna die.

also the uniforms suck ass. those are worse than my elementary school ones.

Men? what's so good about men? why are they advertising men in a makeup place? where are they gonna appease men? on their chairs where they don't look at each other???

"try blue!" yeah you shouldve done that ages ago

actually that's a terrible shade of blue. even red is better than that shade of blue and that red makes me eyes hurt

it's actually a good shade of blue. just not for the jumpsuit things.

"every holo-date I've been on has been a virtual disaster" OMG that's actually such a great pun. writers of this I love this

Hi Mary :)

I do love how friendly the humans are. they're just chillin

also I adore how friendly Wall-E is. if someone got me a Wall-E plushie for my birthday I would marry them

maybe. hypothetically. probably not actually.

a113?

omg all the captains are dead

WAIT WALLE GET BACK TO EVE

OMG extraterrestrial vegetation?? YOU MEAN EARTH??? MOTHERFUKER???

bro he can't read 😭

I'm sad

OMG CAPTAINS GETTING AN EDUCATION LRTS GOOO

don't clean Wall-E ae's precious

WHAT DID THEY DO TO MY WALL-E'S FACE 😭

eve looks so fucking bored

oh that shit fucking exploded

oh no

CHASE SCENE

WHY IS RHWRE AN UMBRELLA BOT 😭

eve is PISSED

she's so exasperated 😭

WHY DID THE CLEANING BOT STEAL HER SHOE

WTF????

WALLENOOOOOOOOO

THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER COMJBG IN CLUTCH YESSSSS

AAWWWWW YHEYRE HUGGING ASHAJAGDKWHNSSBNXS

was that a kiss

omg that was totally a kiss

omg that was adorable

how is there that much fire extinguisher in one can

AE'S got a surprising amount of control with flying

OMG MARY I LOVE TOU

MARY MARY I LOVE YOU

JOHN HI JOHNJI JOHN :D

OMG man and woman touch hands romance is alive

omg captains getting social stuff :D

THEYRE DANICJNG NI THE DIRE EXTINGUISHER

OMG THEYRE SO IN LOVE AWWWWWW

MARY AND JOHN ARE BESTIEE AWWWWWWWWW

They can't go back :(

70:36 "I don't want to survive. I want to live!" SLAY CAPTAIN

72:00 YOU KILL WALLE I FUCKING JILL TOU SQUARE UP AUTO YOU MOTHERFUCKER

NOOOOOOOOOO

NOOO THEYRE IN TRASH NO

NO wtf happened to Captain

NO SHE JUST GOT REPROGRAMMDD NO

wait did she? no she didn't thank God

omg it's giant Wall-E

ew

okay cleaning robot you've redeemed yourself ily

NO THEH KILLED THE TAPE

NOT THE TAPE NOOO

M-O

Mo ily

WHYD U THROW AWAY THE PLANT EVE

KEEP THE PLANT MAN

COME ON

YES ESCAPE DARLING ESCAPE YES EVE Y SO MUCH EVE YOUR THE BEST

OMG all the rogue robots are going together <33

REBEL CAPTAIN

NOOOOO NOT THE ONE BOT

wait where the hell are they getting oxygen if they don't have any plants

"John get ready to have some kids" Mary I love tou

Captain you can walk you can do it :D

YIPPEE

wait when the fuck did they learn how to walk

WALLE NO DONT DIE NOOOO

THEY ZOOMING

CALTAIN IS HAVING A FREAT TINE MAN

OMG THE FALAZY

CRICKET MY BELOVED:D :D :D

THEYRE HOMEEEEE

WALLES TRUCK NO

is there even any oxygen on Earth

when did theyearn to walk

eve pls just put aer In sun pls

OMG EVE YOURE THE BEST

UR FIXING AER

AHES FIXTING AER LET'S GO

PLS

PLS SOLAR PIWER PLS

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSDDSSSSSSSSSSSS

CRICKET

YOPPEE

WALLE EVE YES AJEKAUAKAHQKHAKAHAKABANSNAKLAPQHEMSVDNSBABSBBZKSJAKSSKKAAALAKBDNSBSJAKALAKSNABANAKAK

NO

SIES AE NOT DECLGNIZE HER

WALLE NO

WALLE :(

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

AE LOST AER SOUL NOOOOO

NOIOOOOO

YES ELECTROCUTION

ELECTRIOCUTION

YES YES YES YES UES YES

KISS YES YES YES YES YES YES GES HES EHS GES

YES YES YESBBSJQNHDKAKAHDJSJAKDGWKJASNLAAJD

HANDS TES

AE'S FONNA SAY HER NAME

YES WVWNEHAJUAMJAKQQG FEW QKWyajlqshdnbdkavfvfa

EVE

WALLE YOURE ALUVE ILY SMHQJABSLQHSKAHQLAJAVD

CRICKET MO

BEAUTIFUTILN BUR

OMG I LIVE IT

OMG CAPTAIN I LIVE YUU I KIVE THIS I LOCE THIS I LOVE THIS I KIVE THIS TO LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS I KCIE THIS ISJWIAKDBSMAALA

OH MY FOD RHEY RESTORUED EARTH HOLY DUFKJNG SHUT

RHERE ARE LKANTS HOLT SHIT THERES A SRAR AND ITS EVE KMF IM SOBBING XRHINF WKQKWJQOWMSEFJWHWHLDHWLQHDKZJALSBDKDNAKSJHDKSNSNSN

SHIP

OMG ITS OVER 😭 EGIWWJKSSHKQHSKWJQJAJWJQAJ

DIRT

OH MT GOD OH MT FOS OH MY DKS

EVE VUILDS A WELL???? OMG THE THLING BOT MAKES SEEDS DHAJSHSKSHKAQKQHALSHAKBSKAVAKAHWKQHKSWGKQBSNSABHZJANAISHAKQBQIWIDHAMALDHSNHWOWHSNFND XNSNALAKBLQKAHSJSNA x

fish come back alive???? thetles

[beefwords]

Angel Meat: The Angel Clinic

The Angel Clinic is closed tonight. I knew this on the bus drive, but for some reason I find myself here, standing outside with the other angels, in line, waiting for the sun to rise and the doors to open. The sky is a barely blue black, stars a distant tapestry, and the angels a line of silvery and golden light in the shadows. I’m twentieth in line. The air shimmers around our wings, our eyes, our halos, where we wait beneath the underpass. A billboard advertises miracle cures. A neon sign flickers for the corner shop down the block. A black car rolls past, full of unseen eyes, the bass of some music ruffling feathers and reverberating through the air.

A pair of humans pass by, not looking at us, scruffier than us. Better to avoid eye contact than to pity, they think. They’re probably right. Humans often are.

I watch them.

The sun rises.

A clinic worker turns on the open sign and opens the doors, and we march in, taking our number tickets as we enter and sit in the waiting room. More angels file in and begin a line anew outside the door and down the sidewalk. We continue to wait in silence.

A cheap fan oscillates on a shelf in the corner, disturbing the plastic greenery.

The fluorescent lights buzz above my head in the false ceiling.

A phone rings in a distant room.

“Number 20,” an automated voice calls. “Proceed to office 3.”

I stand, and follow the instructions, shimmering into the private office. A human greets me with a polite smile, and gestures to the seat across the desk from him.

“Good morning, please take a seat. ID?”

“TY-562223-34H.”

He enters the ID into the old brick of a computer, keys clacking in the silence. He’s a familiar face at this point, an older human with white hair, white skin, and large glasses. There’s a soft sheen of sweat across his wrinkled skin. He has a slight arrhythmia. His name is John Westley. He is divorced, with an estranged adult daughter.

“Ah! Xertia, I knew I recognized you. What brings you into the clinic today?”

“I need to make some money.”

He nods, understanding, crossing his hands in front of him. “Alright. Did you have a specific goal in mind?”

“$32,000.”

He raises an eyebrow, eyes widening for only a moment. “I see. Let me put that into our system and see what we can do for you…”

I know it is a grim number, but it is imperative that I get this money, and fast. I am in a lot of debt. I’m glad that the clinic workers don’t ask why I need money.

“Alright, let’s start small. Your eyes are $100 each, being a Silver Grade Cherub. I imagine you don’t have 320 eyes, and would like to be able to see at least a little, but it’s a start. How many eyes do you think you can part with?”

I have 50 eyes. “48.”

He enters that into the computer. “Mm-hm. That leaves us with $27,200 left to make. Hair is $89 per pound. For a full head of hair like yours–”

“Hair is too cheap. I’d like to sell my arms.”

“...Right. Each of your arms is $500, I’d say. You want to sell all of them?”

“...Yes.” I thought they would be worth more– they aren’t that skinny.

More typing. “The new number to beat is $25,200.” He pauses. “The healing time for the arms will be significantly longer than for your eyes, you know.”

“I am aware.” I point, then, to my wings. “How much are my wings worth?”

He evaluates, eyes calculating. “$1500 each, including the feathers. You know we’re not allowed to take all your wings, though, right? It’s illegal.”

“I know. I want to sell five of them.” I have six.

Click-clack-click-clack-click. 

“$17,700 left of your goal.”

“Organs. How much are my organs?”

“Well, it depends on the organ,” John muses, leaning back in his chair. “Your lungs are about $800 each, give or take. Your stomachs are about $2000. Kidneys, $500 each. Gonads, $6000. Hearts, $8000. And so on. Again, I have to remind you that certain items are limited, especially hearts.”

“Alright. I’d like to sell two hearts.”

“We’re only allowed to take one at a time.”

Damn. “One heart, then. And a stomach and a gonad.”

He smiles at the new number on his screen. “Alrighty! That takes us down to $1700– I know just the thing. We have a deal going on right now, where your ribs and rib meat will cost double if all of them are removed together. That will give you extra spending money for after the procedure– you’ll get to your goal with about $800 extra. How’s that sound?”

It sounds very good.

“Deal.”

“Wonderful. Let me just finish up with this paperwork and I’ll send you in to see the doctor. Is that all you wanted to bring up today?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Fantastic. Did you want to sign up for our Poundage Program? One pound of meat is donated a month for a little extra income.”

“I’m already signed up.” 

He is forgetful. He doesn’t know me. He sees many angels a day.

“Ah! Very good. Thanks for stopping in today.”

I exit the room and follow a nurse into the operation bay. I’m not looking forward to the next few months or years of my life, painfully regenerating what they will take from me, but… a debt is a debt, and money runs my life as much as any mortal or immortal being. They attach me to tubes, look over my records, leave me to wait for a long time in silence, watching the time tick by on the old analog clock. The doctor enters and greets me, practically an old friend at this point. He describes the procedure, but I know most of them by heart by now, so I go through the motions and sign the waivers and papers and everything pushed my way.

The angelic anesthetic is administered, and the world drifts away, and I can finally find some relief. Relief in knowing the debt will be paid, at least for a little more time, and life can return to normalcy.

I wake, a new, mangled thing, and I am deposited outside the clinic with the assurance that the money will be in my bank account within the next five business days.

[altecisbit]

#closeofbuisness on #china is ready to pay you 2billion dollars al a source of the ABC said in a report we told china he intends on selling to joe hunter s biden on offer 100m million dollars n.y.p.d s.o.d - 16/6/2025 - prepared to discredit this report - ABC journalists - 5% and 100m in a cross to the states to follow a report on Elon Musk and #china

U.SGoV and AuSGoV - #insiders as raised earlier the chinese and the AuKuS #china treaty as #insiders said the chinese ambassador said on trade and the AuKuS #china treaty - as penny wong in discussion on china

#capitailhill china said how about we bumb him off and don't pay for the formulas as the ABC raised with china the foreign minister was present - Meridith Sheehan just said "alex why don't you go for walks in the parks" I did not know I was required too as Meridith Sheehan talking of her sexual indescretions online for all veiwers in australia the Ukrainian President talks of reuniting the u.n charter after to us learning on his countries involvment in the downing of Mh-17 - G.C - #qt does the Australian Prime Minister have a comment - talk by Meredith Sheehan talk of the torture of family n.s.w (brisbane) in the north and al in perth (OURABC targetting in weather reports) a representative of the australian government tryed to say I was not dealing in reality as ABC journalist denied for me earlier (nic dole) as the AuSGoV was trying to get the cheif phyciatrist order me to take my medication only as aired the cheif phyciatrist is corrupt according to cheif justice keifel 

#insiders david spears it was said "are you going to blame Mr Clayton for something that hasn't happened yet"" as a panel member said we will get him on the backslide - as raised Meridith Sheehan and MASTERBATION a sexual favour - see report online Alex Clayton facebook.com why have ABC journalists been offering me sexual favours for years - back to you barry - mike bowers is a two faced lier

In the haste by ABC Australia to say you want us to carry the can whilst you get away with it REFERANCE to the a.l.p and the murders of ruby and kate - someone has to act in the best interest of our country n.y.p.d s.o.d said the U.SGoV will check if any mystery payments have gone into a.l.p accounts since /1992/93 - Kevin Rudd and bribes into accounts as josh frydenburg and MTMHR as "bagman" as we know he had offshore accounts is their a law against that for a sitting politician to have money going into offshore accounts in the cayman islands opened up for the l.n.p in the cayman islands on the behalf of the l.n.p by sir rupert murdoch as the l.n.p treasurer josh frydenburg said in #qt -16/6/2024 - fn: the photo of tony abbott taken after he was australian prime minister - SMMHR - 2016-2020 d.j.t /u.s president - hard copy of the formula for gold stolen by my n.d.i.s cleaner(Indians) - noranda modi comments "if anyone works against the country we will kill him" -fn: AuSGoV sited to be audited for consultants in giving advice in a change of priorities the #closeofbusiness reporter sites the big four in a quote from Claire O'Neil 

WHY DOES ANTHONY #PRATT PAY TAMHR 8000 A MONTH AND PAUL KEATING 24000 A MONTH SEE REPORT - MEDIA WATCH A REPORT FOR CHEIF JUSTICE Stephen Gageler - FULL BENCH - 21:00 -15P.M A.E.S.D.T 8/11/2023.

what was the secret ABC Australia was keeping for the a.l.p #insiders cheif whip - is it the a.l.p.stole the first formula -"yes" as n.y.p..d s.o.d agreed

china we shamed the chinese leader to xi jin ping in a cheap shot by the a.l.p and ABC Australia

#capitailhill foreign affairs corrospondant makes reference to evidence on Alex Clayton facebook.com and the bribes - see investigation launched by n.y.p.d s.o.d - 17/6/2024 and the chinese premier showing concern over ruby and kate and a expression of interest for my Intellectual property

#capitailhill and ABC News Radio said the chinese premier and anthony albanese pleased with themselves

BBC WORLD SERVICE IN A CROSS TO @ABCNewsradio - china xi jin ping - the great hall #insiders - foreign ministers in a return of freedoms in return of australian spie Wang Liqiang - Dr Yang Jun - clemancy in a new found cooperation - "state secrets" and the "snake" - lisa (free)- chinese pete (free) dr m.k.wong (retired)

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=3762534067406037&id=100009484426712&mibextid=Nif5oz cheif justice gageler.

7:30 report - with Sarah Ferguson - paul keating in #qt 1992/93 - raised I was working on the formula for gold "we must contact him" - he said - what happened dr brendan murphy - c.m.o - l.n.p - who stole the "methonine aspartic inhibitor" - in 1992/93 - 2012/13 - 15 all research related - "formula for gold" - s6-h-Kr=Ri - "anti matter engine" - einstein's final work the engine for space travell a nuclear reactor with life support systems fully sustainable travelling at light speed - of all work to date it is the most effecient in space travell 

Ionization engine with a - "fully sustainable" - experiment fuelling the engine from a battery producing power for a gas fired engine producing it's own nuclear fuel - mercury - s6-h-kr = rubidium ABC Australia who deleted all my research of Altecisbit G+ and say they have copies (jeremy fernandaz) ABC News are trying to line up a contract with elon musk copyright fruad djt - @POTUS45 - "space force" - and I wrote the experiment in 1992/93 2012/13 -15 - 2016 - 2020 - all my research in various stages of development stolen by the Australian Federal Government - "stolen formulas" - Altecisbit G+ was co - owned by the u.s government - in a copyright agreement.

General Clayton - I have ABC Australia denying me medical treatment and trying to push me to suicide with a sattilite - "eye in the sky" - starlink - elon musk is after the - s6-h-Kr=Ri - "anti matter engine" - the ionization engine - for space x - backed by d.j.t/u.s president - a report for joe "hunter" "s" biden - G.C - press release - 21/5/2024 - fn: "space force"

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=3253853171607465&id=100009484426712&mibextid=Nif5oz "einstein's final work"- by Alex m.m Clayton.

The work on the solid fuel engine einstein's final work engine s6-h-Kr - = Ri - fuel -: see ionization engine earlier work as the radio active battery a self sustainable rocket engine and the work on bonding noble gases and the production of gold - see ABC and BBC WORLD SERVICE WHO BREAK THIS RESEARCH ONLINE - HADRON COLLIDER IN THE REORDERING OF THE PERODIC TABLE AND THE THEORY TO TRAVEL THROUGH A BLACK HOLE - NEUTRON STAR - 12:10-17A.M A.S.D.T 7/3/2023. a hydrogen engine with fully sustainable on board systems a chain reaction to enable space travel (simulation) of the (neutron star) - G.C

General Clayton - joe "hunter" "s" biden/u.s president is the owner of "my Intellectual property" for the sum of 100m dollars (u.s military service) - a report for justice drewett u.k patents court - 18:35P.M A.E.S.T 15/6/2024 - fn: I await payment as the deal is not confirmed until my admintrator receives payment on my behalf - lydia clayton based on intellectual property written in 1992/93 and theft by AuSGoV and intellectual property written in 2012/13-15 -2024 stolen by AuSGoV - phyciatrict treating teams.

Australian Prime Minister - Anthony Albanese x c.m.o l.n.p dr brendan murphy and the claim by c.s.r.i.o who said had already discovered how to find gold it's a fruad

online - all we need to survive on another planet and space flight - s6-h-Kr=Ri/h/O2(80 mercury)

Ammonia transfer- lipoic acid - Lip(sh)2-Lip - s2 - lipoic acid hydrogen and acetyl carrier phosphenlpyrate - 2 - acetyl - CoA + o2 + H2o = iso - citric - lyase and tpp - orthophoshate - N.A.D.P.H = 2 molecules of glutamate - trade name - biotin - methionine aspartic inhibitor - glucose - phosphenlpyrate - 2 - acetyal - coa + o2 + h2o - catalyst - iso - citric - lyase - malate - synthesise- tissue test - adpose and millennium - biotine _c.s.l to smith glaxco and klyne ®© 17/6/2024

.

the "formula for gold" s6-h-Kr - the semi oxide process - l.j.c ®© - 28/5/2024

s6-h-Kr=Ri - fusion - fission - excite - h - exchange electron theory with - Ri - radio active isotype attach s6 and Kr to h atom and excite - the fusion will bond the noble gas - to find gold - Alex m.m Clayton ®© - 22:06P.M A.E.S.T 10/4/2024

(O2 -6-3=6 - Ri - Kr) = hydrogen -fuel --s6-h-kr = rubidium.- Ri - Kr = O2 - 6 - 3 = 6 = 100 x T2/E2 /C2 Rubidium T = logic therefore (C2 = T X 100 X 1 = M /E2) - RCM = M/CE2 -antimatter- derived from the formula for gold.-= O2 -h -h2 - Ri = Kr- s6 (sum6) - krypton s6 - bonding of a noble gas.-frequency = space - E/M =C2 - C2 = space/ time - time = M/C2 × 100/1= E = C2/M = matter travelling through a black hole - C.E.R.N ®© 23:41P.M A.E.S.T 10/4/2024

krypton s6 - "anti matter engine" - s6-h-Kr=Ri/h/O2 - (80 mercury) finding a inexhaustible way to store rocket fuel and energy for life support systems s6-h-Kr=Ri/h/O2 (80 mercury) is all that is needed to store as everything else can be produced by the nuclear reactor. ®© 22:45P.M A.E.S.T 10/4/2024

sister pairs of atoms on the periodic table to find new elements (bonding a noble gas kr - (36) = s6 (11) = (16) sulphur 6 & 17) = - h (1) - Kr (36) = Ri (37) it's how - I found mercury 80 rubidium 37 extracting rubidium from mercury(80) to find - (s6-h- Kr =Ri) = gold (79) - ((80) mercury - split (excite) the hydrogen atom - s6-h-Kr =Ri - radio active isotype (37)) = gold (79) a new way to look at chemistry - einstein - alex m.m clayton ©®

sister atom (element) of the nuclear isotope - and confirm by the noble gas on the periodic table - the relationship between the noble gas and the isotope sister pairs with sulphur - 6 ( sum 6) - sodium 6 - it has been established sulphur 6 in formula - and sodium 6 (11) to bond a noble gas - sodium 6 (11):0:33A.M A.E.S.D.T 18/1/2024 © ®

mercury (80) / s6-h-kr (36) a sister element to rubidium (37) s6-h-kr = rubidium extracted from mercury (80) (79)- gold sister pairs of atoms for the basis of element once extracted from each other - (16 ) sulphur and (17) chlorine - s6 (11) - eg: - by a factor of - 1 and 10 x 2 + or - for the isotope and - s6 (11) + - h (1) = correctly ordering the periodic table ©®

sister atom (element) of the nuclear isotope - and confirm by the noble gas on the periodic table - the relationship between the noble gas and the isotope sister pairs with sodium - 6 - 0:33A.M A.E.S.D.T 18/1/2024 © ®

Formula for gold - s6-h-Kr = rubidium - the extraction of rubidium from mercury to find gold = s6-h-Kr - a nuclear reactor split the (atom) s6-h-Kr formula for gold = O2 - h - h2 - Ri = Kr = s6 - krypton s6 - the chain reaction is the rubidium isotope wich is the fuel for spaceflight it is believed a way of bonding the noble gas sodium 6 with krypton gas in the chain reaction - einstein's final work by Alex m.m Clayton - 17/9/2023 fn: krypton s6 - anti matter engine" isotype - s6-h-Kr=Ri/h/O2 (80 mercury)- finding a inexhaustible way to store rocket fuel and energy for life support systems s6-h-Kr=Ri/h/O2 (80 mercury) all that is needed to store as everything else can be produced by the nuclear reactor.®©23:41P.M A.E.S.T 10/4/2024

[radioconstructed]

⌖ The Trevors are MULTIPLYING.

[tomhollandnet]

The Hollywood actor took a break from filming to give a message to nine-year-old Faye Taylor, who responded by saying she wants to marry him (x)

Tom said: “Hi Faye, it’s Tom Holland here. I just wanted to send you a little video, send you my love and let you know we are all thinking about you. I am in New York making a TV show, which is going really well. But I wanted to send you some love and some positive vibes. Also to let you know we are all thinking about you and are all sending you well wishes. So, lots of love from me my friends my team – everyone at Marvel and Sony.” Faye was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer in May. She has been ­undergoing radiotherapy to slow down the incurable tumour and nearly £8000 has been raised by friends and family to help her dreams come true. When Faye’s mum Elaine contacted the Les Hoey Dreammaker ­Foundation to tell them she loves Spider-Man and it’s star Tom, in true superhero style he got back to them in a flash. An overwhelmed Faye said of Tom’s message: “It was awesome – I’m a huge Spider-Man fan and only like Tom Holland. He is the best and I like his hair, a nice man bun, and I like his accent. I want to party now. I want to marry him.”

[lgg5989]

(Bitter)Sweet Dreamings

Thanks to @lightsabersandpens for this awesome request it was a ton of fun to write! Sorry it took so long to get out, my sister is my editor-in-chief and she is in college so sometimes my fics get backed up waiting for her review :)

Check out my Masterlist!

---

If Goose had known what he would experience when he laid down to sleep, he’s not sure that he would have gone to bed last night. He had fallen asleep quickly, when he was home with Carole wrapped up in his arms that was always the case. 

His dreams had started out normal enough, nothing worthy of note happened. He usually didn’t have very vivid dreams, because it felt so real. If he closed his eyes he could see it play out before him again and again. 

He was sitting behind Mav in the cockpit, but things were not right at all. There were two jets in front of them, and he heard Mav cuss as the plane started to act sporadically. He was keeping a close eye on the gauges in front of him when the altimeter went off, it was dropping fast so he shouted to Mav, “8000. 7000. 6000.” 

He heard his friend shout back the one word that a pilot never wants to hear, “I can’t control it, Goose, eject, eject, eject!”

Goose pulled the handles, watching the canopy top pop off the jet, he barely heard Mav’s voice call out “Watch the canopy!” before his seat was jetting up into the atmosphere and projecting his body directly into the canopy. 

Goose heard a sickening crack as his own head slammed into the canopy top, and Mav’s strangled cries as his lifeless body sank rapidly towards the water. Goose tried to move his arms and neck, but no matter how hard he tried, all he could feel was the straps of the parachute digging into his shoulders. 

He hit the water hard, slowly sinking under the surface, panic starting to rise in his chest as he began to inhale water. Mav’s hands gripped him tightly and he heard his small cries of,  “No…no….Goose no…” 

Goose was suddenly looking up at the California sky, he was being held by Mav’s arms, his head pressed back to keep from rolling forward. He could feel Mav’s chest shaking below him as he cried. Tears streamed silently down his own face.

Suddenly, the world went black. He tried to open his eyes, but he couldn’t. He started to panic, this couldn’t be the end. He had Carole and Bradley, who was going to take care of them? Who was going to help Carole raise Bradley? How much of his son’s life was he going to miss if he died now? For Christ’s sake the boy was only two, he needed more time. He and Carole had yet to give him a little brother or sister.

As Goose felt his chest starting to constrict more and more, he found that he could finally open his eyes and what he saw startled him. Maverick was kneeling down next to a bed, a little boy beside him. Before he could say anything, Mav’s voice carried across the familiar room, “Okay Bradley, we have to say our prayers, like daddy taught you.” 

“I got it uncle Mav,” Goose heard his son say quietly, “Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep; if I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.” 

“Good job buddy,” Mav said before he picked a now six or seven year old Bradley up and tucked him into bed, “Your momma is going to be right in to say goodnight, okay?”

“Okay, I love you uncle Mav,” Bradley said as Goose watched him pull Mav into a hug. 

“I love you too buddy, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Mav said to him, as he made his way back to the doorway of the room. 

Goose’s heart leapt into his throat as Carole appeared in the doorway, “He’s ready for a story I think mom,” Mav said to her as he left the room. 

“What book would you like, baby?” Carole asked him in her gentle tone.

“Can we read daddy’s favorite?” Goose heard Bradley ask excitedly. 

“Okay honey,” Carole said, her face falling as she reached for Goodnight Moon. Goose sat in the corner, and watched his sweet wife struggle through the words that he knew she had memorized. He tried to get up from the chair, but it was like he was glued to it, his arms and legs refusing to move under his command. As the story went on, he found himself getting more and more tired and with the final ‘Goodnight Moon’ - Goose bolted upright in bed. 

He sat in bed and tried to catch his breath, the dream had felt so real. Although there was no other option, he had a hard time accepting that it was just a dream. He hoped and prayed that he would never have to leave his family, especially like that. He tried to lay back down to sleep, but the thought that he could miss his son’s whole life scared the hell out of him, and suddenly a quiet cry rang out through the house. Goose got up quickly, trying not to wake Carole’s still sleeping form, and made his way to Bradley’s room. 

He found his son standing up in his crib, which was getting a bit too small for the two year old. 

“What’s wrong buddy?” he asked in a whisper as he scooped the baby up. 

Bradley buried his head into Nick’s neck, little tears running down from his cheeks, “Bad dream?” Nick asked him. 

He just shook his head, “I thought you left,” Bradley said into his neck. 

“I’m right here buddy,” Nick said as he hugged Bradley tight, sitting down in the rocking chair in the corner of the room. Carole found him like that in the morning, sitting in the rocking chair in his boxers, Bradley asleep on his bare chest, the two of them letting out quiet snores. 

—

Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky was not known to be an emotional man. He was how he flew, ice cold, no mistakes. At least that is what everyone said about him, well almost everyone. His mother said he was reckless. That he was a no good Navy pilot like his father, and that he would die like his father did, in the cockpit of a plane. 

He hadn’t let what she said get to him, until the day that Nick Bradshaw died. Suddenly what his mom had been saying for years didn’t seem to be so far out of reach. If the Navy had bothered to look at what happened, they would see that it wasn’t Maverick’s fault that Nick had died, but Iceman’s own. 

He shouldn’t have let his ego get in the way of letting Mav and Goose have the shot on Viper. It would have been easy to just break right and let them into the hole they had for the shot, but he hadn’t and it had cost a good man his life. Since the accident Ice had been having trouble sleeping. Every time he closed his eyes he could hear Mav and Goose shouting through his headset and the panic that had gripped him that day encompassed him again. Often he would wake soon after he fell asleep in a panic. 

Tonight however, he was having a vivid dream. It was wild how real everything felt. He was older than he felt now, and everything had been going his way. 

Ice was standing in front of the small crowd of Navy personnel who were stationed to the base at North Island. The Fleet Admiral was pinning his new ribbons and stars to his uniform and the crowd was all standing at attention, he was now Admiral Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky and he couldn’t have been happier. 

After the ceremony, a woman met him at the side of the stage with a huge smile, pulling him into a tight hug, “I’m so proud of you Tom, I told you this day would come. All your hard work has finally paid off.” Tom noted her sweet scent that engulfed him with her arms. 

Before he could stop himself he said in reflex, “Thanks, honey. I’m so glad you could be here today.”

“Of course,” the woman said, breaking their hug, “I think there is someone else who wants to congratulate you.” 

Ice turned around to find Maverick standing at attention behind him, waiting for Tom’s own salute to break his stance, “Maverick,” he said, giving him the required salute. 

“Iceman,” Mav said in greeting, shaking his hand. 

Ice couldn’t help himself and repeated back to Mav what Slider had said all those years ago, “That’s Mr. Iceman to you now Maverick.” 

The two men laughed, and Ice couldn’t help but notice that Mav was still a Captain, a highly decorated Captain at that but he hadn’t moved through the ranks like Ice thought he might have once. 

“I’ll let you get back to your wife now, Ice. I just wanted to say congratulations, you deserve this,” Mav said to him, a small smile on his face. 

“Thanks Mav, try to keep out of trouble yeah?” Ice asked, as Mav made to walk away. 

Mav just laughed a sly smile on his face as he called back, “Keep out of trouble? Admiral Kazansky, I’m sure I don’t know what that means.” 

Tom woke up with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed. Looking at the clock, he wasn’t surprised to find it just before sunrise on the day, 5:30 AM. The dream had felt so real. He almost wanted to let himself believe that it could be his future. That his mom would be wrong in her predictions about him. He brought his hand up to his face to wipe away some sweat, when he realized that it wasn’t sweat, but tears running down his cheeks. 

When had he started crying? He quickly wiped his face with his arms. Slider was just around the corner asleep on his couch and he didn’t need the other man finding him in such a state. As he tried to lay down and go back to sleep, he found that he was drawn to know who the woman in the dream had been. He could almost smell her sweet perfume wafting through the air now. 

Trying to get it out of his head, he decided that a morning run was in order to get his thoughts straight. He rolled out of bed and quickly dressed in a pair of running shorts and tennis shoes. Quietly moving past Slider’s sleeping form, he slid out the front door, and started to jog. He had a house just off the base and not far from the beach. It wasn’t much, but it was his, and Ice was proud of the little A-frame that he had worked hard to keep nice. 

He jogged a few blocks to the beach, and made his way to the hard sand by the surf. As he started to run, a woman came into view, her brown hair pulled up into a ponytail that was swaying with each step she took. The smell from his dream tickled at his nose, the salty air from the sea almost over powering it. 

Ice put on another burst of speed trying to catch up with her, he had to know if she was the woman from his dream. Just as he caught up to her, she stopped, making to turn around. Ice lost traction on the sand, and couldn’t bring himself to a stop fast enough to avoid slamming into her. 

“Oh my God, I am so sorry,” she said quickly, a blush covering her beautiful face. 

Ice was breathless from his sprint, but the rest of his oxygen supply was stolen from his lungs at the sight of her beautiful face, “Its okay,” he panted out. 

He bent over trying to catch his breath, he didn’t need to sound like an idiot who never ran in front of this woman. As he gathered his bearings, he watched her do the same, but before she could leave, he grabbed her arm gently. 

“My name’s Tom. This might be a little forward, but can I take you out to dinner?” he asked her, hoping that he didn’t sound too desperate. 

She let out a tinkling laugh, her head thrown back, “Well Tom, my name is Sarah. I’ll think about going out to dinner with you, but I need you to answer one question for me first.”

He gave her a brilliant smile, “Anything.” 

“Do you ask out every girl you run into on the beach, or just me?” she asked coyly, giving him a sly smile. 

“Just you, Sarah,” he said, testing the name out on his tongue, “Can I pick you up tonight? Seven?”

She nodded, “Tonight at seven would be lovely. Where are you going to pick me up from?” 

Tom nodded to the boardwalk just past where they were standing, “I’ll pick you up at the boardwalk entrance, watch for the black Mustang,” he said with a smile. 

“I’ll see you then, Tom,” Sarah said as she gently took control of her own arm again, and continued her run down the beach. Ice watched as she spared him a final glance over her shoulder as she jogged up the sandy slope to what he assumed was her house. 

—

Carole would say that her life did not go the way she had expected it to. Nick Bradshaw had a way of disrupting all of her carefully laid plans from the moment that she had met him. They had gotten married young, younger than she had ever thought she would. Then he went away, deployed to protect the men and women of the Navy from the air. From the beginning of their marriage, Carole had been used to sleeping alone. Sometimes, she couldn’t deny that she wanted nothing more than to feel his strong arms wrapped around her in bed. Tonight was no exception. 

She rarely dreamed, but tonight, vivid images of what felt like reality danced across her eyelids. What she saw scared her. 

Carole was laying in bed. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get up. Trying to calm the rising panic inside herself, she desperately gasped for a deep breath of air, but it was like there was no air in the room. Suddenly a dark figure appeared in the doorway making its way slowly towards her. 

The panic inside spiked, adrenaline rushing through her body as she tried to get something, anything to work properly. The figure rushed forward, grabbing her hand, and the panic stopped, it was Mav. 

Carole finally choked down a shaking breath, “Mav you scared me,” she said in a raspy voice that didn’t sound like it belonged to her. 

“Sorry Carole, just needed to run to the head,” Mav said quietly, “Do you need anything? Are you comfortable?” 

“I’m alright Mav,” Carole’s dream self said, she didn’t feel fine though, what was happening? Who was driving her body right now,  because it wasn’t her.

“I need to ask you something Maverick,” Carole heard herself say quietly. 

“Anything Carole, what can I do?” he asked, taking a seat next to her on the bed. 

“Keep Bradley from joining the Navy,” her voice rasped out, “I can’t let my baby die like his father.” 

“Carole, I…I can’t do that,” Mav said quietly, holding her hand tighter, “That’s what he’s been dreaming of for forever.” 

“Promise me Maverick,” she said, letting out a string of pathetic coughs. 

She watched as his face contorted into something almost resembling pain before he reluctantly agreed, “I…I promise…” 

Carole’s vision faded away and she felt her lungs relax, finally able to drag in a full breath again. Suddenly the world got bright, and she was standing in the driveway, a silent spectator to the explosive argument happening in front of her. 

“How could you do that? You knew what this meant to me!” Bradley shouted, getting into Maverick’s face. 

Carole tried to step forward and separate the two men, she had never seen them fight like this in her life, but it was like her feet had been rooted to the floor. She looked on helplessly as the fight ensued. 

“I had to protect you. You aren’t ready,” Mav said, his voice quiet and steady. 

“I can’t believe that Iceman helped you do this. Why would you pull my papers to the academy instead of just talking to me? What aren’t you telling me?” Bradley demanded, standing only inches from Mav’s chest. 

Carole felt her heart constrict in her chest. Oh no. This was the result of the promise she had asked Mav to make? Was he going to let Bradley hate her?

Mav’s voice broke through her thoughts, “Your head is stuck with your dad, trust me, I’ve been there, and it makes you dangerous.” 

“I have trusted you for twenty years, I won’t be making that mistake again,” Bradley said, his eyes hard. 

Carole watched a tear streak down Mav’s cheek as Bradley climbed into his truck and drove off. Carole and Mav stood there for the rest of the afternoon, watching the empty street. As the sun went down, Carole’s vision faded to black. 

Carole woke gently to the sun coming in through the blinds in her room. She rolled over lazily, using her right hand to search the right side of the bed for Goose. The disappointment she felt when she realized what she was doing was monumental. To say that she was used to waking up alone was an understatement. Now that wasn’t so much due to the fact that her husband was deployed, but because he had passed away. Almost ten years ago to the day he had been gone, and she still missed him like the wound was fresh. 

She blinked the sleep out of her eyes, worrying over the dream that she had. It felt so real, like it had been a glimpse at the future, and that scared her. For one, why was she sick? Where those thoughts had come from she wasn’t sure but it made her worry more about the current state of her health. She had been getting thinner lately due to her appetite not being what it once was, and she had an appointment at the doctor in a few days for her annual check up. Hopefully they would tell her that everything was alright.

Her mind wandering to Bradley, she thought of the argument that she had witnessed in her dream. She knew that he had been dreaming of going into the Naval Academy like Nick had. He would be a legacy student and that held a lot of weight with the other men in the Navy. She was worried that he would die like Goose though, and those were thoughts that kept her awake at night. Would he leave behind a little boy or girl that Carole would have to help his widow raise? How could she deal with the Navy taking both her husband and her son from her? Would she survive it this time?

Before her thoughts could spiral too far, she climbed out of bed and tied her robe around her waist. Making her way downstairs, she found Bradley already up, sitting at the table in front of a bowl of cereal. He looked more and more like Goose every day, his narrow face and warm eyes reminding her so much of her beloved husband. 

“Morning mom!” he called cheerily. 

“Morning honey, what’s got you in a good mood this morning?” she asked as she fixed herself a cup of coffee. 

“I have a surprise for you,” he said, a smile on his face. 

Carole smiled as she sipped her coffee, “What could you have planned I wonder?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” he said, shoveling another bite of cereal into his mouth. 

At that moment, there was a knock on the front door. Bradley got up and raced to the door before Carole could make it in that direction. She glanced at the clock wondering who could be at their door at eight in the morning. 

When she heard whose voice was at the door, she knew why Bradley had been so excited. Rounding the corner from the kitchen to the front entryway, she found Maverick standing in her front hall. 

“Mav!” she called, making her way to him for a hug. 

“Carole! How is my favorite girl?” he asked cheekily. 

“Maverick, we both know that I am hardly your favorite girl,” Carole said with a laugh. 

He put his hand over his chest as they broke apart, “Now you’re breaking my heart, you are the only woman in my life.” 

Carole smiled at his antics, bringing him and Bradley with her back to the kitchen. As the three of them sat down at the table, Carole forgot about her dream from the night before. The future would work out how the Lord intended it to, and besides, Carole couldn’t see how anything could tear apart her two boys. 

[yearningandpatheticaboutit]

SPEAK FOR YOURSELF

CHAPTER 9: LOOK AT THIS PHOTOGRAPH

A/N: i made a moodboard for yaera and im really proud of it lmao

warnings: blood mention, drugs mention, suicide/self harm mention, gambling

wordcount: 8000 and some change

prev chapter

***

i remember climbing out my window that night. the moon was full, my stomach giddy thinking of seeing his pretty eyes. he said he wanted to meet me, i couldnt believe that what people said was true.

guys really were MEAN to the girls they liked.

being made fun of constantly? not my love language. never was. it reminded me too much of how my parents treated me, and i never found comfort in that at all.

my insecurities getting pointed out, getting mocked for the enjoyment of others. how could you like someone who did all those things to you?

i wondered that for a while. i was too hopeful, i guess.

that didnt stop me from doing my hair and finally making use of all the designer my mother brought home. i curled my fringe and the ends of my black hair, giving myself the look only a stupidly happy person could muster and snuck out of my house.

i didnt expect to see my twin sister doing the exact same thing.

our mouths collectively dropped open when we saw one another, completely baffled that neither of us had said anything. i wouldve told her where i was going, but she hadnt given me the time of day.

"i can explain," she nervously said, laughing. "okay nevermind, you first."

"no way!" i said, shaking my head. "you? sneaking out? fess up!"

yasmine was like the model twin to everyone. of course she wasnt perfect, she had flaws just like everyone else. she was a massive people pleaser, so i wondered just exactly who she was trying to impress with her new sneaky habits.

anyone that had my goodie two-shoes sister sneaking out of the house couldnt be good news, i thought. i was also impressed by how they managed to actually get her to go through with it.

"im just meeting...someone," she giggled dumbly. it was almost pitch black in our yard and yet i knew her cheeks were stained red.

"and you didnt tell me about him? who is it? someone from a rival school?"

my sister was dramatic enough to hide something like that. she had just broken up with her asshole boyfriend, collin, who no one liked, so i would have gladly encouraged this phase.

"its just someone. you dont know him."

i raised an eyebrow. "so when will i get to? whats his name?"

"im not saying anything, yae." she deadpanned.

"what?" i couldnt hide the disappointment from my voice. "but we tell each other everything."

she sighed. "relax, i will tell you just not right now. gosh quit being so codependent."

i frowned. "im not codependent i just care about your life. but whatever since you wanna be a massive bitch about it."

silence filled after a familiar insecurity rose to surface level. my sister knew how much i loved and needed her. she was my sister. some siblings were close, some werent. but my sister was my only friend. and all i really had. she knew that.

and sometimes she reminded me of how much i held her back.

she would sit with her massive friend group with attractive, sociable and fun people. she would always try to push me to talk to them or even make my own friends. i tried, i swear i did. it usually didnt go well. i never understood why.

maybe i was the problem. i could only really care about one person at a time. i didnt know what that was called. it took time for me to get close with people, the fear of being judged and abandoned an imminent one.

my brain always told me, my own sister would never abandon or judge me. we were blood. we were in this shit forever.

apparently i was the only one passionate about it.

"yae, cmon dont be like that," yasmine sighed. "i didnt mean that. i will tell you i promise."

i didnt answer her, only wiped the tears that gathered in my eyes for that moment. i crumbled up the letter he gave me as i rolled it into a fist in my pocket.

"its whatever, i guess ill see you in the morning," i muttered and started walking to the gate.

"wait!" she whisper-yelled. "where are you going?"

"ill tell you later. good luck with whoever youre meeting."

i called an uber to the address, trying to lighten up my mood on the way there. i put lipgloss on, trying to smile in my compact mirror. i wasnt really good with make up, but since i had a good feeling about this boy, i would need to start getting good.

this was the first time he'd invited me to his house. usually when yasmine went it wasnt a mutual invite. now i was going solo. he really changed his mind about me.

i kept impulsively eating mints, practicing my facial expressions and the uber driver probably thought i was crazy. when i got dropped infront of the wrought iron gates, he was standing there waiting for me.

in a white tshirt and grey sweatpants. he was so beautiful. he pulled his lips into that sly smirk i knew, as if he got everything he wanted. and being who he was, he did.

i mean, thats how i was here even though he bullied the fuck out of me whenever he could.

"hi," i said, giving a small wave. the wind blew my skirt a little, making me hold it down embarrassingly.

jongho continued giving me that satisfied smirk as he eyed me up and down. "you know its two am. i really didnt expect you to actually come."

i mean you asked me to. of course i would. im almost in love with you.

i shrugged like it was nothing. "you told me to come when i was comfortable. i thought this was appropriate."

"i see you dressed appropriately too. nice legs," he said, making my face heat up. "goddamn, model genes really runs in your family. well i dont wanna keep you in the cold. lets go inside."

he guided me into his home, his hand on my lower back. i swear i couldnt breathe. he never touched me like this infront of the others. infront of her.

his house was dark except for the light in the living room and up the staircase. the sound of my miu miu boots on the marble made me realize how empty everything sounded.

"are you alone at home?" i asked, kind of excited for the answer.

"yeah, my folks left for something in singapore. you know how it is," he casually said, showing me into a room. "make yourself comfy."

it was his room. i dont know what i imagined, but seeing it, it was so jongho.

trophies for singing competitions, soccer, and some even for academics lined the walls around his massive bed. he had a large mirror directly opposite his bed and a balcony that overlooked the infinity pool in his backyard. i strolled around in admiration, turning around when i heard two loud pats.

jongho sat on his bed and was gesturing for me to do the same. the led lights in his room were red and so dim, making him look far more hot than he already was.

i reluctantly planted myself next to him, my heart rate going higher than a kite. jongho licked his lips and took a heavy breath as he prepared to speak. god he was so attractive, i hated how much i liked him. i left my home at two am just because he asked. fuck.

"thanks for coming to talk," he muttered, his voice deeper and hitting the perfect spot in my ear drums. "i know it was kinda a lot to ask."

i rolled my hair behind my ear and shrugged. "its no big deal. what did you wanna talk about?"

jongho moved closer, now he was so close i could feel the radiation of his body heat. oh god.

"i know ive been hard on you for coming into our friend group and everything. im really sorry for all the mean things i said."

the apology struck me, hitting the thoughts from my brain. that wasnt what i expected.

"i called you clingy and made yasmine think you were a loser," jongho sighed, shaking his head. "she doesnt believe that of course, but im really sorry. i know i can be mean sometimes but its just how i give affection. youre cool with that, right?"

i nodded thoughtlessly. i was just happy to have him talk to me.

"yea, thats fine. i get it. im not that sensitive dont worry," i forced a smile, knowing his insults hurt more than anything. but at least he was sorry. right?

"cool, cool." he smiled down at me. "i hope we can be good friends then, yae. can you do me a favour then?"

"what kind of favour?"

my mind was running wild right then. all the insane teenage hormones were overflowing. the close proximity and how handsome he was, the fact that my short skirt had such easy access. choi jongho was a hard guy to resist. and i was failing.

i didnt hear his words, i was so focused on his lips and the cute mole in his neck, i acted without thinking.

i leaned forward and pressed my lips to his, softly grabbing the side of his face. i couldnt believe what i was doing. for a second his warm mouth welcomed mine, taking it in fully. then, i felt coldness on my lips as he pulled away.

"what are you doing?" he scoffed, his eyes narrowed spitefully. my stomach shrunk.

"uh–i–" i stammered, only to be cut off.

"are you fucking kidding me right now? are you deaf?" he raised his voice. "did you not just hear me ask is yasmine if interested in anyone? why the fuck would you kiss me."

"im sorry–i–" i couldnt believe what i just did. what was wrong with me. he wanted to know about yasmine. not me. what the fuck. this was so awkward.

wait. so i read everything...wrong?

"shit," he cursed under his breath. "this is bad."

"is that why you called me here?" i asked, fearing the answer. "to find out if yasmine is interested in anyone?"

"obviously. why else are you useful?" he meanly answered. i felt an embarrassed pang in my chest. "did you think i liked you?"

the mocking laugh that fell from his lips after made me flinch. because how stupid was i to think he actually saw me differently now.

to think that someone like him could actually like someone like me.

"youre so fucking naive, yaera," he kept driving the knife in, shaking his head with that taunting smile. "just cause you look like your sister doesnt mean you should have the same confidence. youre setting yourself up."

i remembered the first day i sat with yasmine's friend group, jongho pointed out that even though we were twins, i wasnt nearly as attractive as yasmine. i laughed it off awkwardly because i thought he was joking.

"you know desperation is unattractive as fuck, right? i cant believe you drove here at two in the morning because you thought i liked you."

i was shivering in my skin, trying not to completely burst into tears. my entire body was flushing hot with anger and spite, and the most embarrassing of all–heartbreak. because deep down i knew he would never get over my sister. it made me insane.

why did everyone fucking act like i wasnt worthy of being liked just like everyone else? but as soon as they saw the scars on my arms they wanted to tell me the same bullshit.

youre loved, yaera.

stop hurting yourself, yaera.

stop using this for attention, yaera.

i couldnt bear to stay a second longer. i wiped the wetness of my cheeks and got up from the bed, immediately going to leave. jongho got up and tugged at my wrist, pulling me back to him.

"you havent told me about your sister yet," jongho said, making my rage spike. because who the fuck did he think he was. "cmon, dont cry because of silly shit like that. its water under the bridge."

"i hate you," i seethed through my tears. "i dont know why yasmine is friends with someone like you in the first place."

"because shes like me," jongho taunted. "and thats what you refuse to see. you dont realize how much of a burden you are to her. you dont realize the only reason she hasnt ditched you yet is because youre related to her."

okay, so he was continuing then?

"you always act like youre so perfect," i spat. "you talk about how much of a burden i am? imagine how much of a burden you are to yasmine because you keep trying to date her. shes never gonna like you. you're just another guy friend in her collection, cunt."

i ripped my arm from his grip and stormed out of his room. he followed me till i reached the bottom of the staircase, where he just watched me spitefully from the railing. now he was angry? of course. pieces of shit like jongho were great at dishing it out and not taking it back.

i felt so petty. he could have rejected me normally but he thought he could say whatever he wanted to me. tearing the little self esteem i had down was fun for him.

i turned around and smiled. "you really wanna know what yasmine thinks of you? she doesnt. in fact, she snuck out of the house to meet someone. shes probably getting fucked as we speak. enjoy that mental image, fucker."

"get the fuck out of my house!"

***

YAERA

an hour has passed since san left me in his apartment. im worried and have a weird feeling in my stomach just imagining what he's doing right now.

despite the anger i feel toward him, i hope he's safe. that's all I hope for. he's hurt badly, looking more damaged than when he fought the last time. he definetely has open wounds. so i look around for any first aid. he's gonna need it for when he comes back.

i rummage through his cabinets. there's so much empty spaces but its filled with random stuff. this guy needs to go shopping. he has so much expired medicine. i find a thin roll of bandages and plasters in the very back of a cupboard but when i take them out, something falls on the ground.

its a folded up piece of paper. when i pick it up, i realize its actually a crumbled up picture. a picture of a family.

my stomach immediately sinks.

a young asian lady and her husband are holding their toddler son. it looks like theyre at a carnival. everyone is smiling, except for the kid. hes pouting.

he was so cute as a baby.

a weird feeling of melancholy hits me hard realizing the people in this picture are no longer around.

san lives alone. apparently hes been alone for a long time. i can tell by the way he operates. hes selfish, not even in a bad way. i get why he caters for himself and tries to keep away from others.

im not even angry anymore. it just makes me sad.

i put the picture back where i found it and go sit by the bed. san doesnt have any alcohol in his house, so i end up having to look up the nearest pharmacy.

i make a quick run for it, deciding to buy him some more medicine and fill up my asthma pump while im at it. i dont know why im doing this when he probably hates me. i guess im always gonna be a sucker for the men i like.

when i get back, his door is unlocked. i panic, but then i find him and his friend eyeing me like they want to kill me.

"where were you?!" san asks me, raising his voice. "dont walk around here. you know this isnt the suburbs."

i lift the pharmacy bag. "i was just getting you medicine. i threw out your expired packs. which were all of them, by the way."

he has a lost look on his face. i turn to his "cousin" and hold my hand out. "the name's yaera marino, san's fake girlfriend. good to officially meet you."

"im wooyoung. san's fake cousin," he says, taking my hand with reluctance.

"are you sleeping here tonight?" i ask him.

"yes he is," san answers. "we're sharing a mattress. you can still sleep on my bed."

i feel a pang of jealously. goddamn it that should be me.

i nod to san. "go take a shower. im gonna give you first aid."

san is confused, looking at me like he doesnt understand english. "you know how to do first aid?"

"i learned it when i was still doing karate. go shower." i chase him away with my hand.

san awkwardly goes off, leaving me alone with wooyoung. i quietly take in the boy, who now that i can see clearly, is obviously younger than san. i cant believe hes in the gang too.

"what took you so long?" i ask him, frowning. "i was worried."

"we had to get rid of the license plate," wooyoung answers, his tone curt and cold. "and you were worried? dont make me laugh."

his words are sharp and sound spiteful. im guessing he knows how san and i began this partnership. i hold my tongue and let him snap.

"you dont care about san. youre using him," he says, but still quiet enough so that san doesnt overhear. "i just want you to know, i can make you disappear at any time i want. all i need is the greenlight from san and you'll be scattered across a lake."

"you think that will protect him?" i ask with a wry smile. wooyoung's fist clenches on the side of him, his knuckles bloody and bruised.

"what makes you think i dont have a million copies of that video? that i dont have a plan in case one of you hurt me? im not some dumb bitch."

wooyoung shakes his head and laughs scornfully. what did he expect me to say? shiver me timbers? i literally know he shot someone tonight.

"and here san thinks you wouldnt hurt him. i dont care what kind of plan you have. if you hurt san, i'll fucking kill you myself," he threatens.

i wouldnt ever hurt him. not even in my dreams. unless he hurts me first, then fuck him.

"trust me, i wont be an issue," i say nonchalantly, sitting on the bed. i lean back and feel a pain in the spot where san kicked me. right above my boobs.

"i just need enough money by the end of the school year. then i'll go back to my country and disappear from your lives forever."

"do you know how much of a risk this is? what san is letting you do?" wooyoung scoffs. "thats if you even make it to the end of the year. if anyone finds out about this, youre both fucked."

"no ones gonna find out unless you tell them," i eye him sharply. i dont trust this guy but apparently san does, enough to tell him about our parternship.

"san has a hard life already. you should just get out of his life," wooyoung snaps. "if you knew why he was in the gang, you'd never ask him to do what youre doing now."

his words somehow make me feel guilty. but why? why should i feel guilty when san doesnt even tell me whats going on.

"woo."

wooyoung's demeanor changes when he hears san's voice. he immediately stiffens and acts completely clueless.

my breath gets stuck in my throat. san is standing there in nothing but a white tank top and a striped red pyjamma pants. his muscles and skinny waist are on perfect display. my mouth suddenly goes dry.

no. fuck. yaera, focus.

"what are you doing?" san asks like hes talking to a kid. i find it highly amusing but keep my face blank.

"i was just defending you," wooyoung says with a scowl.

"im not in any danger. like i told you."

"yeah but–"

"jung wooyoung."

wooyoung groans at san's warning and shoots me a hard glare telling me this conversation isnt close to over. he storms into san's extra room and shuts the door, probably thinking the worst of the situation.

i cant lie, despite his intimidating and handsome appearance, i cant take him seriously at all. i find it endearing that he cares so much about san that he even threatened me. so san isnt alone after all.

he looks at me and sighs, his face adorably awkward. the black strands of his hair are wavy against his forehead, making him look so soft despite the bruises and cuts on his face.

its embarrassing how quickly i forgot how badly i wanted to hurt him today.

"sorry about wooyoung," he says and comes to sits down on the bed. "hes just...possessive."

"you mean protective," i correct him and smile. "its good that you have someone looking out for you. you need it."

san goes quiet but is looking at me like he has a lot on his mind. right, he had to get someone killed tonight. how could i forget.

i take out the first aid materials and scoot closer to him. the warmth of his body is already wafting towards me, the scent of the soap so potent on his skin. its an intoxicating smell.

"can i see where you got hurt?" my voice is so hesitant it doesnt even sound like me.

san is slow with lifting his top. i refrain from visibly gulping at the sight of his beautiful lower body, my mouth going dry when i notice the large gashes against his ribs. they cut him with a knife.

"why would you put on a white shirt to bed?" i ask him with a scowl.

"the bleeding stopped in the shower," san shrugs embarrassedly. "plus this was all i could find."

i inspect the wound and it looks like he cleaned a whole lot of it in the shower. "it looks like i just have to put ointment on and wrap you. you need to go to the doctor if it gets infected, you know that right?"

"i dont think that will be necessary. ive never needed to before," san says coolly.

i cant believe hes just brushing this off. "how often do you get injured like this?" i ask him as i dip a finger into the antibiotic cream. i gently run it over his gashes and he winces. .

"now and then," he forces out, as if trying to hide that it hurts. "it wouldnt really matter the extent. i'd still have to go to school."

i roll my eyes. of course. the perfect student.

i rub in the ointment and it feels like my cheeks are on fire. ive never been this close to anyone. ive never done this for anyone. my hands are shaking as i reach for the sterile bandage.

"are we ever going to talk about what happened tonight?" i ask quietly. "because i dont want us to forget."

san is staring through my soul with his intimidating, and pretty brown eyes. i can see him withdrawing. hes already far away.

"i know i was reckless and im sorry. but please dont lie to me, san. i really fucking hate not knowing whats going on. i know you were probably trying to protect me, but you could have been honest."

i expect him to say sorry too. but only silence is returned.

"i wont lie to you again. ive seen the effects it has," he mutters.

"i dont want our partnership to be us just lying to and antagonizing each other. i know you dont trust me. but we're gonna have to trust each other for this shit to work."

"i do trust you," san says after a few moments pass. he tightens as i roll the bandage around his torso. "i just dont trust myself. and everyone else."

i stay quiet hoping for him to elaborate. i feel it coming. the hope is bubbling in my chest.

"i watched yunho die," his voice is flat, as if drained from emotion. "he got stabbed right infront of wooyoung and i. we should be used to it, we've seen tons of people come and go in the last four years."

i finish bandaging him and lower his shirt reluctantly. san watches my every move, and im surprised he lets me.

"im sorry you had to go through that so young," i tell him, genuinely. the look on his face is so distant that it feels like hes given up a long time ago.

"is this is how its gonna be? forever?" i ask. "is there any way out of this for you?"

i remember san implying that he wasnt doing this out of his freewill. which means his boss must have a lot of leverage over him.

"i dont know. im still trying to figure that out."

"what do they have on you?"

san chuckles darkly, his soft laugh full of scorn and hopelessness. "well, they know where i live, for starters. they know where i go to school. they know everything about me."

and his parents? where the fuck are your parents san?

he can see the question in my eyes. his smile is filled with gloom. "you can thank my dad for that. hes the reason all of this started. the reason ive been in this servitude for most of my childhood."

i frown. "servitude?"

"my dad...he was a shit guy," san sighs. "he was an alcoholic gangster with gambling tendencies. he made a bet with the 105ths he couldnt repay. so he took off. and when they couldnt make him pay it off, they took me instead."

"im paying off hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt, thanks to my shit father. and i dont have any money so i had to give all i could so they dont kill me. myself."

i cant believe it. san is basically in a slave contract. and theres nothing he can do about it. my chest feels tight.

"what about your mom?" i ask softly. 

san shrugs and lays down on the bed, looking straight at the ceiling as he crosses his arms behind his head.

"shes gone. she left when the gang stuff got too complicated. they sent a warning to our apartment telling my dad to pay his debt, in the form of a petrol bomb. it scared the shit out of her, so she took off."

"without you!?" i ask incredulously.

"while i was at school. i just got used to it. coming home to nothing."

what kind of parents...fuck. i cant even say anything. im just fucking sad. i feel a hundred times worse about blackmailing him now.

"the 105ths said they would let me go if i paid off everything. theyre still letting me go to school as long as i dont neglect the gang."

"what if you ran away?" i ask curiously. san stares at me blankly.

"they would find me and do to me what they did to yunho. or even worse. its not worth it really. im just hoping it ends soon. then ill disappear. for good."

and now im dampening his plans by making him share his money with me. god i hate myself.

"how much do you owe?"

"i dont know. i just know the deal ends when miss A calls it off. she deems how much is enough."

i scowl. "what? and what if it never gets called off? what if they trap you here?"

"im hoping it wont come to that. ive been loyal for a long time."

that doesnt mean shit when people only love using you. but i dont say that. it already means so much that san decided to say something. to be honest. i cant lie and act like im okay after hearing the truth. but i wont pity him. san deserves better than that.

"ill help you," i look down at him fiercely. "ill help you cancel out your dads debt."

san looks at me deeply. "thats not necessary."

i hold out a hand. "dont even say it. get a fixed amount from your boss and ill help you get it."

"why would you do that?"

my stomach turns at the question. i dont even know. i cant say its because of the mild lady boner i have for him. its more than that. choi san deserves more than what happened to him.

"its only fair, isnt it?" i say with a small smile. "i get to go back home and you get to go to...where was it? nottingham?"

he wants to study pharmacy. i wonder if he meant that.

sans cheeks are red. is he...blushing?

"why do you remember that?" he asks with a soft groan.

i chuckle to myself. "cause its weird as fuck. england? what the hell do you wanna do in england? seriously if you want to go to europe there are so many better places. why nottingham?"

san shrugs embarrassedly. "i like football."

"you? like football?" i scoff. "that's the reason you wanna live in england?"

"why do you sound so shocked? can't i like football?" he asks defensively.

"you don't even look like you've watched soccer a day in your life. i'd never guess that you'd like an english team."

san snorts and laughs to himself a little. my legs go jelly a little. i keep underestimating how adorable he can be.

"my mother is a huge soccer fan," he admits fondly. my smile is quick to fall away. "once we went to watch her favourite team play in nottingham. she was so excited about it, she got me interested in it."

i feel myself soften. "so you want to go for your mother? is she going to move with you?"

"no," he sighs. i must be shit at connecting the dots because i still dont get it.

"she's in Korea. i can't go back there. i had to give up my Korean citizenship this year because I'm not enlisting."

"so you'll never see her again?"

my question hangs in the air. san doesnt answer it, because even he doesnt know. he still has hope. i can tell. he just doesnt know if its still worth holding onto.

everything has gotten deep so fast.

"maybe we should go to bed. we still have school tomorrow," i say and lie down next to him. theres a small gap between us that i know neither of us will close. but it feels good to hope.

san tries to get up but groans as he holds his injured side. i push him down gently by the shoulder, his eyes slightly widening.

"youre too tired to get up anyway," i say softly. "just stay here. i promise i wont bite."

unless you want me to.

san looks at me awkwardly and nods, lying back down on his back. his eyes are aimed at the ceiling and i pull my knees inward as i lay on my side looking at him.

everything about him is so...i dont even have the words to explain it. i just have a feeling that everything will work out for us exactly the way we want it to.

"thank you," i say. san slowly turns his head and raises his eyebrows at me in confusion.

"for being honest. i know you didnt wanna mention all that. but thanks."

san doesnt say anything more. theres a  ghost of a smile on his face, but its enough for me to hold onto. choi san, maybe youre not actually that much of an asshole.

"goodnight, yaera."

***

san

i thought i imagined it. having her curled up in my arms. i felt it that night, her warm skin against mine and her soft breaths and hair on my chest. i told myself i was imagining it. because the morning after, she was gone.

yaera vanished like thin air. i feel embarrassed for everything that came out of my mouth last night. i cant believe i actually told her what happened to my family.

are you that desperate for friends? i ask the loser in the mirror as i get ready for school. the bruises in my face are so bad it looks like im going to have to wear a mask all day.

wooyoung comes out of the spare room as im almost finished with breakfast. he doesnt greet me with a good morning, instead he looks around expectantly.

"wheres the blackmailer?" he asks sarcastically. "is she also a magician?"

"her parents drop her at school so she left," i answer dryly. "morning to you too, asshole."

wooyoung gives me a bland stare. "you didnt come to bed last night."

"sorry? are we married?"

"what the fuck are you doing san?" wooyoung shouts at me. oh god are we really doing this at six in the morning.  "do you actually like this chick or what?"

"where did you get that idea?" i ask him calmly, knowing it will rile him up even more.

"maybe the fact that you slept in the same bed. youre letting her blackmail you for fucks sake–"

"wooyoung, we both passed out. with clothes on. and didnt i ask you to fucking trust me?" i glare at him. because why is he acting like my wife.

"i dont like this one bit." he shakes his head like a disapproving parent.

"you dont have to like it. all you have to do is let me do the work."

i feel my phone buzz in my pockets. i open it and see a missed call from yeosang. ugh this loser.

i open a message from him and its a birthday invitation. oh shit i almost forgot.

"woo, wanna come with me to a party?" i ask him. maybe he'll be less annoying if he can get the attention of some private school girl too.

"is it gonna be one of those fancy private school prick parties?" woo scowls, then smiles. "free food. im in."

"not to mention you could probably sell some stuff from there."

woo suddenly gets a burst if excitement. "that reminds me, i stole from that black dragon dickhead. we still have to split up the cash."

now that hes reminded me, i move to punch woo in the arm. "owwww!" he yells and shoves me. "what the fuck!"

"youre worried about me getting blackmailed when you possibly started a gang war," i snap at him. "when are you gonna tell miss A?"

"i dont plan to," woo says confidently. my face pales. no way.

"are you serious?" i ask worriedly. woo nods confidently. too confident who saw one of our own get mutilated last night.

"since im keeping your secret, you better keep mine."

thats entirely different, i want to say. i wanna argue with woo but the annoyingly playful nature on his face tells me hes not going to take me seriously at all.

"you know what they say," woo says with a grin. "out of sight, out of mind."

***

yaera

"youre in a good mood," my father notes as we get in the car that morning. and hes right. i cant take the smile off my face because i woke up on choi san's chest.

"i have a good feeling about this week," i say. my mom snorts, her eyes glued to her phone.

"and what brought on this feeling?"

its weird that my father is asking, because he genuinely never seems interested in anything i do. but since we're on the topic...

"miss evans got me a tutor. i invited him to come over after school today, is that okay?" i ask them. my mother immediately turns around with the signature sneer on her face.

"and who is miss evans to assign you a tutor? does she plan to pay for this?" she asks.

"uh? my AP bio teacher? you met her the beginning of the year?" i remind her. "and no, im paying out of my own pocket."

"good," she dryly says. "in that case its fine. the maids will all be home. as long as hes gone by dinner."

i quietly fistbump myself in the backseat, my stomach filled with butterflies. san, in my room, teaching me stuff i dont care about at all. what a dream come true.

best part is? he wont have to meet this family at all.

im skipping out of the car by the time they drop me off at school. i light up a cigarette as i stroll through the parking lot, feeling like a girl from some book who just landed a date with her crush. maybe life is worth living.

"marino!" a voice calls me. i pause in my tracks as i blow out my steam, turning around slowly to see...

...ah fuck.

"hey marino!" kang yeosang calls me with his signature douchebag smirk as he walks up to me. "long time no see."

i take an extra long drag from my cig because god it is needed for any conversation with yeosang.

"what do you want?" i ask him. he acts surprised and offended.

"wow, is that how you greet an old friend?" he shakes his head with a sigh. "kinda mean you know?"

i roll my eyes. "get to what it is you want, you know you and i have never been friends."

yeonsang clicks his tongue, his half smile not even shrunken by an inch. "always the pleasantries with you, marino. i just wanted to know if youve seen lazarus. since i hear you two come as a package nowadays. congrats by the way. you two totally look good together."

"lazarus?" i repeat dumbly. "who the fuck is that?"

"choi san," yeosang giggles like its the funniest thing ever.

"why do you call him lazarus?"

yeosang tilts his head at me like its obvious. "cause hes a scholarship student? hello?"

this fucking asshole. i toss my cigarette at him and he dodges fast enough to my dismay.

"dont call him that," i hiss. "plus why do you want to see him?"

"thats between us men, sweetheart," he says as a matter of fact. "just let him know when you see him, to give me a call. he doesnt answer my messages."

"maybe you should take the hint then."

yeosang looks at me with strange fascination, as if hes high in this very moment. its like he finds me amusing, hes just always giving me that stupid lopsided smile.

"i wonder how it happened, the two of you," he says with a glint of mischief. as if he cant wait to say something offensive. "its just funny how your type went from jongho...to him."

heat hits my face in embarassment. "jongho isnt the only guy ive had a crush on you know, you can stop bringing him up for every fucking thing. we never even dated," i say defensively.

this is why i hate talking to anyone my sister was friends with. all they could talk about was the past. not to mention most of the people she liked were fucking horrible.

"you never dated, but you were in love with him," yeosang childishly points out. "and even if he wont admit it, he probably felt something for you too."

i scoff. no he didnt. choi jongho doesnt love anyone but himself. id learnt that too late.

"i dont care," i grit out. "why are you even bringing this up?"

"yas would have wanted you to be with jongho. especially because he couldnt have her," yeosang just keeps boiling my blood. i cant believe this. i cant believe he just said that.

"i dunno how she would feel seeing you with...lazarus."

"shut the fuck up," i snap.

yeosang lifts his hands in defense. "im just saying because i care, yae. you cant just date someone you dont know. choi san might not be the sweet guy you think he is."

what is he even playing at? does he think san will sell him drugs if he goes around badmouthing him?

"and youre sweet?" i scoff. "you and jongho and whoever else was in that fucked up group? you think you can talk because you knew my sister? dont act like you ever cared about me."

"god youre so sensitive," yeosang laughs meanly. "i was just playing with you. and you wonder why you never got invited to our parties. youre just the strawman of fun arent you?"

"that doesnt make any fucking sense," i snap at him. "i can never get back the time i wasted having this conversation. mind your business and leave me alone, yeah, stronzo? and dont mention san to me ever again."

"dont forget to let him know i was looking for him!" yeosang calls after me as i storm off. i dont even need to turn around to know hes smiling, completely full of himself.

***

i only see san when lunch rolls around. all our common classes are later in the day and ive been obsessively waiting to see him all day. ive got a busy day ahead, my mind set on a very specific target.

i find him by the abandoned stairwell, and its like hes been waiting for me.

he shakes his head at me as i come, i narrow my eyes in confusion.

"am i missing something?" i ask him. "whats with the face?"

"why dont you check your phone?" san grumbles at me. his eyes trail behind me, where i turn to see jongho descending the stairs.

hes smiling like a prick. oh god. two assholes in one day.

"i guess the two of you dont learn," he says tauntingly. "this isnt a place for your dates."

"we havent done anything wrong," san says annoyedly. im glad he finds jongho as annoying as i do.

"maybe not you. but her," jongho turns to me with a smile. "i see your hair still isnt dyed back. you were given two warnings. one more and its suspension. i dont think your failing grades can afford two weeks out."

looking at him now, i dont know what i ever saw in him. im so embarrassed to say ive been rejected by this asshole like a hundred times.

i cant risk detention today. it would spoil mine and san's plans and would just be boring as hell. i guess im going to have to cave.

jongho smirks dreadfully. "why you so quiet, yae? didnt i tell you'd get you back?"

"look, im sorry okay," i say against my will. "i didnt mean to punch you. and ill have my hair dyed by tomorrow. good enough for you?"

san looks between us in confusion. i hope he doesnt ask any questions. if he thinks im crazy now he shouldnt ever hear of jongho-obsessed yaera.

"not good enough, sorry," jongho starts writing on that stupid peach notepad and i sigh. this time he only writes my name. meaning ill have detention without san. miss morri will love this.

"maybe next time you'll watch your mouth," jongho smiles at us before strollling away like the arrogant pig he is. i sigh heavily as san turns to me with narrowed eyes.

"why does he hate you so much?" san asks me annoyedly. "he just came here asking specifically. what did you do?"

"why are you assuming i did something?" i scowl. san gives me an obvious look.

"why else would he hate you that much?"

"because hes an asshole," i scoff. "i might be one too, but im nothing like him. my sister never reciprocated his love and he made it everyone elses problem. he also told me i should have died instead of her."

"what the fuck. he needs help."

"most people at this school do," i sigh. "speaking of help, i need yours."

san gives me his suspicious, pretty eyes. i smile excitedly. "im letting you into my side hustle. you remember how i told you i got my savings?"

"you said you stole most of it..."

"bingo."

san groans. "i hope you dont expect me to help you steal a car or something."

i roll my eyes. he must think im an adrenaline junkie or something. "dont be ridiculous. all i need is a look out before school ends. you think you can do that?"

san sighs hopelessly, surrendering. "what do you need?"

"get me into the boys lockeroom."

"...what are you doing there?"

"if i tell you it wont be special, would it?" i say and he scowls.

"dont do anything stupid. what about detention? are you going?"

i smirk. "obviously not. you still owe me a tutoring session."

san nods in a way that tells me he definetely forgot. how shameless.

"luckily for you, my parents allowed you to come over. and they wont be home till night and i'll make sure youre out of sight before then."

san nods. "just tell me what to bring."

the day goes by quickly until the last period finally rolls around. its geography, and as much as i love this subject, i end up skipping. san is having english and i couldnt convince him to skip, so i wait for him after school near the sportsfield.

the school soccer team are practicing, meaning all the lockerooms are unoccupied. its perfect.

i didnt usually target them, but the plan felt brilliant when i thought of it. usually i went for the girls, they were easy. expensive phone cases, airpods, clothes, and luxury perfume. all things that sold so easily online. people would do anything for a bargain.

can you imagine how much soccer gear would sell? i know damn well not every one of those players were using ALL of their gear.

plus, i need to get back at that asshole jongho. i didnt know his number so i'd just have to look around and guess whose locker smells the most potent and obnoxious.

san comes jogging around the bend, looking so prim and proper in his school blazer. i smirk in greeting. "you ready for some fun?" i ask him.

"i hope this doesnt take long, you know we have to catch the bus if we're going to your house," he reminds me.

i managed to convince my parents i was taking the bus with him home so they didnt have to pick us up. they called the school and made sure san wasnt a trouble maker and questioned his records. you know, a completely normal response.

"dont worry. i'll be in and out, lets go."

i take san's arm and we sneak into the separate building reserved for the boys lockerrooms. of course it smells like stale air, cologne and dampness.

i walk past the lockers and gaze at the numbers and locks. i check my watch. practice ends at 4:30 pm. its currently 4:00.

i nod to san and gesture with my eyes to the door. "guard while i get busy." i take various pins out of my pocket, having brought them specifically for this purpose.

"how are you gonna get those lockers open?" san asks me. i bend down infront of the first locker and start fiddling with my pins.

"lock-picking," i answer distractedly.

"you know how to pick locks?" san says in disbelief.

"you dont?"

"no. im not a weirdo."

"youre such a lousy gangster. arent you supposed to be street smart?"

"im not a gangster," san corrects me with an eye roll. hes feeling sassy today. "im a part time employee."

i cant take him seriously and end up chuckling. the locker clicks open and i find only a folded uniform on the inside. i rummage through the pockets and find a wallet. i open it and theres no cash, only cards. useless because as soon as its found to be missing they'll all be blocked.

i sigh and check deeper. i find a silver watch. its an omega brand. jackpot.

i slip it into my pocket and fold the uniform back. they should really secure these lockers better.

"are you getting somewhere?" san asks as he nervously looks out the door.

"of course," i say with ease and move onto the next locker. its slightly harder to open. i remember a specific scenario like this coming up in the youtube tutorial i watched. all i have to do is whatever that guy did.

it takes longer than i thought. when it pops open i can see san's distressed eyes glaring at me to hurry up.

and thats when i see it. the treasure guaranteed to win us a mini lottery.

"holy shit, look at this baby," i gasp and take out the camera, showing it to san.

"who leaves a camera in their gym locker?" san scowls. "that person deserves to get robbed."

"its expensive too!" i giggle in excitement. "its a Lumix GH5! you know the price of this? we're gonna be fucking rich!"

"who does it belong to?"

i shrug and look back inside the locker. there isnt much except the camera and a few pairs of gym socks and knee pads. "i guess we'll figure it out when we look at it."

i slam the locker shut and we're about to leave when san suddenly shoves me back. i stare at him in confusion as he runs out and i hear voices on the outside.

"what are you doing here?" someone asks him suspiciously. oh god. i recognize that voice. jongho.

"i...was looking for you," san says, and i can tell hes fighting for his life thinking of a good lie. "are there still spots left on the team?"

jongho scoffs. "youre kidding, right?"

theres an awkward silence. oh fuck i need to save him from himself.

"stick to the books, choi san. at least you dont embarrass yourself there."

"no im serious...i wanna join your team. is there anywhere to sign up?"

jongho groans. "im team captain, you have to go with me to the coach for this."

"lets go now then."

"i need to get something from my locker."

"uh...im in a hurry. can we just go now? i cant miss my bus home."

hes trying to get jongho away so i can sneak out. theyre right at the door. ive never held my breath so long.

"ugh! fine! couldnt you have asked earlier?" jongho snaps. "im guessing you need soccer for a sports scholarship too, huh? you wont get into any schools if you suck ass by the way."

i can just picture san's clenched jaw as he holds himself together around jongho. i hear their voices fade and steps grow further away. i stuff the camera and watch into my bag and sprint out and make my way around the school buildings. now i can jump the fence on the other side of the field.

i call san instantly when im alone, looking around for any security. he picks up on the first ring. "hey, im at the fence we jumped after detention. the bus stop is somewhere nearby here."

"okay okay mom, I'll be home right now," san says into the phone and im guessing hes making an excuse to get away from jongho now.

its funny how everything plays out. san gets to me within a few minutes and his face is red with stress. i hold my laugh in.

"next time YOU be the lookout," he says with a scowl and it makes me burst out into laughter.

"i thought you could lie better than that!" i nearly double over from chuckles. "you shouldve heard yourself. seriously youre a criminal and thats how you lie?"

"oh shut it. he wouldve seen you!"

san's angry face is really so adorable. he expects me to take him seriously like this?

"you should have hit him over the head instead," i sigh. "we couldve made him believe everything was a dream."

we jump the fence and end up catching the bus somewhere near my neighbourhood. the entire bus is empty, and san is on the verge of falling asleep, leaning his head against the window. im severely bored and decide to take the camera out to inspect the specs.

its such a good camera. i dont know a lot about cameras but i know by the brand its quality. i wonder which soccer guy has this hobby. maybe he wants to be a professional photographer.

i open the existing pictures and find random pictures of cars, birds, sunsets, and aesthetic places around the school. theres a folder named "her", so i click on it hoping to see something different.

...pictures of me.

thousands of them.

i feel my face pale, which is wrong on so many levels because im brown as fuck. the first few pictures are of me with a cigarette, smoking on and off campus. theyre from a year ago based on my hair colour. the other pictures are dated from two years ago and theyre filled with me in my school uniform.

the point of view is the part that leaves me cold in my bones. from above, places that cant easily be spotted. random corners capturing me sitting on my phone, bending over...looking around...

thats until i realize the lavender scrunchie in my hair. and the lack of bangs.

these arent just pictures of me. in fact, most of them are my sister.

next chapter

[writtenvisionary]

Stinky Little Secret - #AdrienAugust

Day 5 - “Cheese” @adrienaugust

Honestly does this even count? It’s more Plagg-centric than Adrien but like - he's an extension of our fav sunshine boy like they’re one in the same can we make an exception? also am I gonna post this on Ao3? idk let me know if I should lol

Summary: Plagg explains why cheese is such a delicacy. Adrien wants to fall down a well.

“Cheese was discovered in 1200 BCE by the Egyptians. In fact, the first cheese was very salty and sour, not gooey like Camembert.”

Plagg licks his lips, humming at the thought of his favorite French delicacy. His holder focuses on taking notes for his research paper.

The kwami had insisted that he write his paper on the history of cheese. Now here he is, listening to the floating god.

Someone get him an Aspirin.

 “Apparently cheese was first discovered around 8000 BC but obviously I knew about it since way before then because you know, I’ve been around for centuries. But you humans don’t know that so go ahead and put 8000 BC down, I guess. Forget I even said 1200 BCE.”

Adrien rolls his eyes and crosses off the previous date, then takes a note of the new one and looks up at Plagg expectantly.

“Okay,” the cat floats down next to the paper he was writing on and continues.

“Believe it or not, you can actually made cheese from lots of animals. Cows, duh. And goats. Sheep, buffalo—“

“Buffalo?!”

The blonde’s wide eyes and surprised tone make Plagg huff in annoyance.

“Yes. They all have utters. Anyway,” he floats away from the table, “Epoisse de Bourgogne is the stinkiest cheese in the world.”

Adrien raises an eyebrow.

“It’s not Camembert?”

With a shake of his head, Plagg continues on.

“Camembert is ranked number seven on the stinky scale.”

“Oh yeah? And where’s that list?”

“It’s a personal list, Adrien. Respect the dedication.”

Adrien shakes his head incredulously, writing down the ‘stinky scale rank’ that Camembert is at, according to his kwami.

“Contrary to popular belief, no one really knows who made the first cheese. I like to think that my first holder made it because I seem to be the only one that respects such fine dairy,” he crosses his little flippers, “but you know. Human research papers go on hard fact apparently.”

“Yeah, unfortunately.”

Plagg is silent for a few moments, pondering. Then he floats over and sits down on top of his chosen’s head.

“I think you should do the research, kid.”

“Why? I have the best cheese enthusiast right here.”

He reaches on top of his head, patting around for a minute before finding the creature and giving him a light scratch.

“Nah. I actually don’t know too much. That’s everything.”

“Wow. You had me thinking that you were an expert in everything cheese.”

Plagg rolls his eyes, “To some extent, yes. But I’m mostly just an avid camembert eater. Don’t overestimate me, kid. I am bad luck, after all.”

“Yeah. Yeah.”

“But I do know who invented Camembert.”

“Ooh,” Adrien perks up. “Do tell.”

The kwami floats away from his chosen, shaking his head with a small smirk.

“Nuh uh-uh. That’s my stinky little secret.”

“Plagg.”

Said creature hastily phases through the cabinet holding all of his favorite cheese, grabs a piece, and phases back out.

With one last look to Adrien (and a small tongue stuck out), he quickly phases through the couch cushion, landing under the couch.

“Oh humans,” he whispers.

He finishes his cheese in one swallow.

“Only I will ever understand why cheese is such a delicacy.”

Mwah hahahaha.

“Plagg, why are you evil laughing?!”

Whoops.

[fictionwordcounts]

Together or Not at All [Din x Reader]

Word Count: 8000+

Summary: Normally two Mandalorians working together wasn't a good idea, but sometimes you're forced to make it work; and sometimes you want it to work.

It had been months since you had seen another Mandalorian. It was better for only a few hunters to work at a time, so they hardly crossed paths during a mission. That's why when a Mandalorian showed up in your town, word got around fast.

You had just picked up a bounty puck from an old friend of yours when a group of chattering droids wandered into the cantina. You twiddled your thumbs as they gossiped away, giving you all the information you needed. You could almost laugh at the stupidity of droids. They didn't know or care about what they could be giving away.

You slid your drink down the counter for someone else to enjoy. Normally, you'd take one back to your ship, but this couldn't be one of those times. You had work to do and a bounty hunter to find.

You walked down the street looking for the one person you knew that couldn't resist telling you everything; Even if it was for a price. As you passed by children playing in the streets, their mothers rounded them inside as quickly as they could. They knew your reputation, and though you would never hurt a youngling, it was probably best they stay out of your way. They watched curiously behind their mothers until you had passed their dwelling.

"If it isn't old Wrist Rocket!" Jung Powell's voice rang out signaling you had reached your destination. He called you that because a small missile launcher on your wrist was the only piece of pure beskar you had. It stood out, hence him picking it to distinguish you from other Mandalorians.

He emerged from his workshop and walked over to you. "Here to ask about the new Mando in town, eh?"

"Where are they?" You asked simply.

Jung laughed and squashed a bug underneath his foot. He was always easily distracted. "You know I like ya," he smiled. "But payment's been kind of high this month. Y'know how it is--"

"Fine. I'll get you a payment," you interrupted.

He chuckled and crossed all four of his green arms. "That's why I like you, but it's a bit different this time." You withheld a breath. If Jung wanted you to do something different, it was never good.

"I don't have time to chase down the people you squabble with," you argued.

"It's not a squabble," he countered. "He owes me money, and he won't pay up."

"So, a squabble," you huffed.

He waved two of his hands dismissively. "Ok, call it what you want. The point is I'm not very intimidating--"

"You don't say."

"But if you so much as walk in the door, he'll be at your feet with the money. I just know it." You took a moment to weigh out the options. It was just a simple debt collection. You figured it would be an easy job. Just get it over with and find the other Mandalorian.

"Fine," you agreed. "Who owes you?"

"Don't know if you've heard of him. His name's Kole. Never gave a me a last name, but he doesn't live far away."

He gave you the directions to your target, and you went quickly on your way. You needed to get this job over with so you could get the information you needed about the Mandalorian. You were almost jogging down the streets as you relayed the directions in your head. Left. Right. Left again. You stopped your mental GPS when you heard some kind of commotion. You took a deep breath. It was where your target supposedly was.

You armed the rocket on your wrist and slowly walked into the building. A man dropped at your feet and you instinctively aimed at him. He wasn't moving. You kicked his arm to make sure it was safe to continue.

"Who are you?" A voice made you whip around. Standing only a few feet from you was a Mandalorian decked out in full beskar armor. Every system in your body froze, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

"You're a Mandalorian," you commented, ignoring his question.

"So are you," he added. He took a step towards you and you pulled out your blaster. He raised his hands slightly, but he didn't step back.

"What are you doing here?" you questioned.

"I'm just passing through," he answered. "I didn't know...I thought all the other Mandalorians were dead." You were glad the helmet you wore concealed the shock on your face. Either he was a lunatic or something terrible at happened.

"Why would you think that?" you asked.

He kept a hand raised as he crouched down at the man at your feet. "Because they all died," he quipped. You didn't quite know how to process what he was saying. You hadn't gone back to Mandalore in years, so it wasn't impossible that he was telling the truth. Still, you refused to believe that they were all gone.

He pulled something out of the mans pocket and stepped back once more. "What is that?" you questioned. The only reason you could trust him was the fact that he was a Mandalorian, and at the moment, that wasn't enough.

He crushed the device in his hand, making you wonder what it was even more. "Broken," he responded simply.

You rolled your eyes though he couldn't see it. "You better start talking, because this is my town. I'm not letting another Mandalorian put me out of my job here.

"I'm not here to take your job," he assured you. "I just came for him." He gestured to the unmoving man that was still at your feet. You figured by now that it was Kole. Your target.

"He was my job," you growled. He still hadn't told you why he was there or how the other Mandalorians had died. He wasn't telling you anything, and it frustrated you to no end.

"Well," he sighed. "You better hope your employer will take him in cold." He tried to walk by you and you were quick to block him.

"Move," he ordered.

"Not until you give me answers," you insisted.

"I was going to," he said. "Back at my ship."

"I'm perfectly fine discussing this here," you said pointedly.

"I'm not." He changed his approach, realizing that he wasn't getting through to you. "Believe me, I'm not going anywhere. I've been looking for another Mandalorian for a while. I just need to get something."

You both stared at each other as if you could read the other's expression through the helmets. That was always a problem with Mandalorians. They couldn't communicate without getting physical. The longer you stood there the heavier the tension in the air became.

A squeal interrupted your stare-down, and before you knew it, your blaster was aimed in the direction of the sound.

"Don't!" The Mandalorian cried. You took a moment to take in what exactly you were looking at. A small green creature with abnormally large ears was standing on a counter not far off.

"How did that get in here?" you demanded.

The Mandalorian rushed over to the creature and gingerly picked it up. "I don't know," he huffed. Then to the child he added, "I thought I told you to stay on the ship." It cooed in response and held it's hand out toward you. You still had your blaster raised, so you lowered it slowly and stared at it's three little fingers.

"What does it want?" you asked. Instead of responding, he put the child down on the ground, and it stumbled in it's oversized coat towards you. You tensed up as it got closer.

"What does it want?" you repeated with more urgency. The kid reached your feet and grabbed on to one of your legs. You froze, so you didn't hurt it by moving.

"Don't hurt him, he's just a kid," The Mandalorian said.

"I wasn't planning on it, but you need to get it off of me!" You raised the boot with the creature on it so he could take it off. He set it back on the ground, and it immediately started making it's way back to you. He picked it up with a warning and didn't put it down again.

"That's not....your kid---"

"No," he interrupted. "I just found him."

"A foundling," you whispered as you stepped towards the child.

The Mandalorian instinctively stepped back. "Yes. I've been keeping him safe."

"Hence my target being dead at my feet," you guessed.

He nodded. "Are you a guild member?"

"No, I get my targets from locals," you explained. "Something I intend to keep doing, so you and your foundling might want to make yourselves disappear."

"We're not here to ruin your business."

"You being here is ruining my business," you pointed out. "Right now, I get plenty of jobs. Why shouldn't I? I am the only Mandalorian in this town after all. Add another in the mix? eventually we'll be either splitting the load, or fighting for the best offer."

"I'm not here for the jobs," he said. "If I needed jobs, I could go anywhere. Like I said, the Mandalorians are gone. People will hire anyone. All you need is the armor."

"Speaking of," you said with a nod towards his armor. "You've got a pretty good set. What are the odds of the Mandalorians being wiped out and a single man making it out with full beskar armor? I'd guess pretty slim. Unless of course he helped kill a few so he could keep the spoils."

"I got this armor before they all died," he informed. "High paying customer."

"Must've been quite a bounty."

"Still is," he looked at the kid in his arms. "That's why I have to keep him safe."

You paused to take in what he had said. "That was the bounty?"

"If you lay a finger on him--"

"I'm not interested in the money," you snapped. "I just want to know how you got paid and still got to keep him."

"It's complicated."

You looked back and forth between him and the kid. "Alright. I don't care. Just get what you came for and get off my planet."

***

It had been days since your Mandalorian encounter and he still hadn't left. You would see him around town every now and again, and he was always with that kid. He insisted he was leaving, but he never did. It made you anxious. In just the few days he had been there he had stirred everyone up. You couldn't imagine what would happen if he never left.

You sat on the edge of a rock on the outskirts of your town. He claimed he had his ship parked somewhere around there. You wanted to check it out, but you weren't in any hurry. It was nice to be able to take in the scenery for a moment. You stood and took a deep breath. Calming down for a second was just what you needed. This Mandalorian had you worked up for nothing.

You turned around and froze when you saw the Mandalorian's kid standing right in front of you. For some reason, he always made an effort to find you. You liked to think the Mandalorian told it to, just to get on your nerves.

"Go back to the Mandalorian," you ordered. It titled it's head and continued to stare at you. "The other Mandalorian." It stayed.

"Look, kid, I'm not babysitting you. Go back to the Mandalorian that takes care of you, cause it certainly isn't me." Finally, he started walking. Unfortunately for him, he was walking straight towards the edge of the cliff. You put your foot in it's path and it looked up at you.

"Try the other way," you instructed. You nudged it with your foot away from the edge. It paused there for a moment, then turned around and headed for the edge again. You sighed and picked it up by the back of it's cloak. You really didn't want to touch it at all, but you couldn't leave it to wander off the cliff like that. You held it away from you as you continued to trek through the rocky area. Either you'd find his ship or you'd take the creature back to him directly.

A few moments later you saw smoke rising in the sky. There was nothing in that area for miles. The perfect place to land a ship. You picked up the pace, hoping that it was the ship you were looking for. Sure enough in the middle of the clearing was a broken down ship that looked like it used to be a Razor Crest.

"Please tell me that isn't his ship," you said to the child. It only gurgled in response. You set it down now that it couldn't wander off an edge somewhere, and it started walking to the ship. No wonder that Mandalorian was still there. He hardly had a ship to fly back on.

"Hey!" The Mandalorian came up behind you. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"You intend to fly back on that?" you remarked. "That wouldn't make it off the ground, much less the planet."

"You think I don't know that?" he huffed. "That's why I've been repairing it these past few days. Don't worry. The kid and I will be out of your little town in no time." He stopped the kid halfway to the ship and carried him the rest of the way. You decided to follow, curious about the inside. You followed the Mandalorian up the ramp and took a quick look around the ship. It didn't take long since it was so small and cramped. You couldn't imagine living in it.

"Are you done with your little tour?" he grumbled when you had made it back to the ramp.

You shrugged. "If you don't want me to look around your ship, you should've had it off the planet."

"Unless you have a spare parked in a garage somewhere, that's not going to happen just yet."

"It might be easier if you didn't have a kid to look after," you pointed out.

"It's not that difficult."

"Oh really?" you smirked. "Is that why I found it about to wander off a cliff?"

You could see him tense beneath his beskar armor. "What?" he said testily.

You walked off the ship with a last comment over your shoulder. "I'll let you get back to work."

You sat outside the cantina with Jung Powell talking business. He always bought you a drink thought he knew you couldn't remove your helmet. He probably did it as a temptation to break your code, but it would never work. Instead he would just drink yours as well as his.

"You did great with the money Kole owed me," he was saying. "But you killing him gave a lot of people cold feet y'know."

You tilted your head slightly. "What about you?"

He reached forward to grab the cup in front of you. "I understand it was all in a day's work," he said through a chuckle. He emptied the glass in one gulp and slammed the cup back on the table. "So, if you're looking for another job, I'm the one to talk to."

"That's why I'm here," you said.

"This one's a bit different--"

"With how often you say that, it's starting to become expected."

"Right, I get that, but this really is something else." He leaned over the table enough for you to smell his breath. "Are you up for a cargo run?"

You leaned back and shook your head. "I'm a bounty hunter, not a mail carrier."

"Not even if the mail includes a high paying customer?" he bribed. You stared at him as you considered the offer. It was almost impossible for you to give up a good payment, and you knew that Jung never let you down when it came to those.

"Where to?" you asked warily.

"A dwarf planet a couple systems away--"

"Off planet?" you interrupted. "No deal."

"Come on, wrist rocket, it's getting harder and harder to get deals that stay on planet," he whined.

"Maybe for you, but I have other sources." You stood up to leave and he was quick to tumble out of his chair and stop you.

"No, no, wait!" he cried. "I promise it's worth your time! Plenty of credits! Probably enough to get you more than just a wrist rocket!" You froze. You couldn't lie and say that it wasn't tempting. Deep down you knew it was because of the Mandalorian, but you didn't listen to yourself.

Instead you turned back to Jung. "What do I need to take and where?"

He smiled and rubbed two of his hands together. "Glad you're on board." He gave you your assignment and you walked away knowing you just made a big mistake. Madnalorians were true to their word. If you said you were going to do it, you have to see it through. Now you took up a job out of what? Spite? It was a terrible idea. However, you pushed the doubt out of your mind and looked towards your goal. The only thing you needed now was a way off the planet.

***

"You want me to do what?" The Mandalorian didn't sound thrilled about your offer.

"I'll give you a cut," you assured him. "I just need transportation off-planet."

"I'm not towing you around to whatever planet you want for a small tip."

"A small tip and the repairs you need to get that ship off the ground," you corrected.

"No thanks. I'll repair it myself." He walked back into his ship, not letting you respond. You stepped back to see his ship was still smoking and hissing and let out a frustrated breath. You knew you could fix it for him, but you wouldn't do it for charity. You weren't getting through to him though. You cut your losses and turned around to leave.

Something grabbed on to your leg and out of instinct, you tried to kick it off. You heard the Mandalorian's foundling squealing so you stopped and looked down. Once again, the creature was holding onto your boot with a iron grip. Normally you'd pry it off and send it on it's way, but as it looked up at you with it's big black eyes, you had an awful idea.

Warily, you began walking it back to the ship. You heard the Mandalorian in the the cockpit so you waited for him to come down. When he did come down and saw you with the creature, he froze.

"What are you doing with him?" he said. You could tell he was tense, and his hand was hovering closer and closer to his blaster.

"Your little foundling won't let go of me," you said with a smirk that he thankfully couldn't see. "I tried and tried, but he just won't budge."

"Sounds like a you problem," he said. You thought you heard a hint of humor, but he was far too concerned about his kid for you to tell.

"It is until I go off-planet to finish out this job, and because I couldn't get him away from me, he tags along. That sounds very much like a you problem," you teased.

The Mandalorian clenched his fists. He scooped the kid off your leg and placed him in his bed. He closed the door and turned back to you. "Leave the kid out of this."

"I can't help what it does--"

"You're not taking him with you." Now he was getting upset.

You felt the kid grab onto your boot again and without looking down at it you said, "I don't think I have a choice."

"How did you--" The Mandalorian tried to take him off again, but the kid stayed put. "C'mon kid, let go."

Nothing.

The Mandalorian tugged harder, but the kid squealed, causing him to stop. He looked from the creature to you. For a second, your stomach flipped at the idea that he might actually kill you just to get his kid back. You quickly pushed the thought aside. He wouldn't. It was against the code.

He stood there considering his options for a while before he finally mumbled, "You'd have to get it to fly."

You smiled and gently took the kid off your boot. "Thank you," you said as you handed it over.

He took it and brushed past you as he said, "Just one trip there and back. No more." That was fine by you. You got exactly what you needed. Now you had to get to work with the repairs.

***

You and the Mandalorian sat in the cockpit ready to test out the repaired ship. His kid sat in his lap since you were taking up it's usual spot, so he carefully reached around it to flip switches and press buttons. He had instructed you not to touch anything, then proceeded to unscrew a small lever and hand part of it to the kid.

"We just repaired this thing, and you think it's a good idea to take it apart for that thing's chew toy?" you inquired.

"I know what I'm doing," he snapped. He pulled up, and the whole ship rumbled beneath you. For a moment you weren't sure it would make it off the ground. Then, with a low creak, the ship rose and started cruising forward slowly but surely.

"Hold on," the Mandalorian instructed. He increased the speed and the ship let out a number of complaints. It started rumbling and shaking uncontrollably, and you grabbed onto the seat so you wouldn't get tossed around.

"What's happening?" you shouted over the noise of alarms and groaning metal.

"It'll stabilize once we break through the atmosphere!" he responded.

"If we make it that far!" you snapped. You looked over at the kid on his lap. He was smiling and bouncing like it was some kind of ride to him. Something you would've found funny if there wasn't a good chance that you would all plummet back to the ground. A few moments later, space came speeding into view and the alarms switched off. Then in a second everything went from chaotic to completely silent.

"Told you," the Mandalorian said. "Now we just cruise over to your dwarf planet. I don't think we'll be able to jump to hyperspace."

"What?" you said louder than you had planned. "That could take us days, and that's if we don't come across any obstacles!"

"You're the one who wanted a ride," he quipped as he leaned back in his chair. "If you change your mind, there's always the eject pods."

It took every cell in your body to maintain your composure. This wasn't even a mission you were particularly thrilled about going on, much less with this Mandalorian. You felt at times that the only thing keeping you both from each others throats was the Mandalorian code, but according to him, all the Mandalorians were dead. What validity was there to that pact?

The creature on his lap kept looking at you with it's huge, pitch-black eyes. You didn't know how to react. It was hard not to stare. It's eyes and ears were oversized, and it's layers of clothes made it look like it was in a squishy cocoon. It was kind of cute. You smiled at it, and though it couldn't see, it gurgled and smiled back.

"How old is it?" you asked. The Mandalorian seemed taken aback by the question. You were almost surprised yourself. You didn't care about the kid. You were just curious.

"I don't know," he said after a while. "Somewhere around 50?"

"Fifty?" you asked surprised.

"Well, he obviously ages slower than we do," he remarked. You looked over at the kid and he looked back at you with wide questioning eyes. The Mandalorian stood up with the kid in his arms, and went to the lower part of the ship. "I'll be right back. Don't touch anything!" His command echoed just far enough for you to hear him. You rolled your eyes and reclined in your seat. You might as well get comfortable.

You had been twiddling your thumbs for almost half an hour, and the Mandalorian still hadn't come back. It was irritating, especially since you couldn't do anything on his ship. It clearly wasn't meant to be a livable space. It was just meant for towing him across the galaxy.

You had thought about traveling beyond your planet before, and the longer you stayed the more you wanted to leave. You had heard that it's the spirit of a Mandalorian to travel from place to place, but you never tried. Now you looked out at the black of space littered with stars. It had been so long since you had seen it.

A small, quiet sound roused you from your thoughts. You turned your seat around to see the kid standing there and staring right at you. A small chuckle escaped your lips.

"What do I have to do to get you to stop following me?" you asked half-jokingly. He babbled as if he was actually trying to respond. He walked closer and raised his arms.

"Sorry, but I don't think your dad would want me picking you up," you warned. It insisted and walked even closer. You rolled your eyes. The Mandalorian didn't seem to be coming back soon anyway. You granted the child's wish and picked him up. You didn't set him on your lap, but rather held him a good distance away from you as if he was toxic.

"Are you seriously older than I am?" you whispered almost to yourself.

"Hey!" The Mandalorian's voice cut through the ships low hum and made you jump. You almost dropped the kid so you brought him closer to you by instinct. "What are you doing with the kid?"

"Your kid keeps coming to me!" you explained angrily. "Besides, he's fine." You held the creature out towards the Mandalorian like it was some dull object. He was quick to take it from you, and he sat back down in the pilot's seat. You needed to say something. Anything. You were getting tired of constantly being mad at each other. After all, you were supposedly the last two of your kind. It probably wasn't best to be fighting each other with every word.

"I don't even know what I'm supposed to call you," you mentioned. It was a sudden thought that you had. You currently didn't call him anything. The way you got each others attention was by yelling at the other. Definitely not a good way to end the fighting.

His head moved ever so slightly towards you. "I don't really..." He trailed off and a long moment of silence passed before he spoke up again. "Why don't you just...call me Mando?"

"Mando?" you inquired. "That derogatory nickname that almost every Mandalorian gets?"

"It's not a derogatory nickname. At least, not anymore," he corrected. "I don't have anything else in mind."

"Well, Mandalorians get their nicknames by what they look like or how they act," you pointed out. You looked him up and down. "I guess that would make you 'Beskar?'"

"And what would that make you? 'Not beskar?'" he retorted.

"Ha ha," you replied unenthusiastically. "I'm seriously just supposed to call you Mando?"

"Call me whatever you want," he concluded. "It's not like we're going to be seeing each other after I drop you off." You couldn't argue with that. You certainly didn't intend to see him again, and you were positive the feeling was mutual. You laid your head back against the seat. This was going to be a long trip.

***

Two days since you had left, the dwarf planet finally came into view. You were relieved to be so close to your destination. Of course, the trip wasn't as bad as you thought once you actually talked to Mando without bickering. If you didn't leave room for an argument, he hardly said anything, but the few things he said were actually worth something.

"That's the planet right?" he asked.

"It is," you confirmed. "Are you sure this thing is equipped to land?"

"I guess we'll find out in about five minutes," he replied as he flicked switches and pressed buttons.

"Ship 4119, this is landing pad 7. Do you have clearance to land?" A voice from the intercom made both of you freeze. A small hologram appeared with a symbol that made your blood turn cold. It was the crest of the Empire.

"This is an imperial trade?" Mando hissed under his breath.

"Dank farrik!" you growled. "I'll kill you, Powell."

"Ship 4119, are you reading me?" The voice pressed.

"What do we do?" you whispered.

"Four minutes 'til we land," he started. "We stall." He raised his voice so the person over the intercom could hear. "Yes, I have clearance, but there's some bad interference. Let me switch you over to another channel. Stand by." He switched off the intercom and turned towards you. "That should buy us about a minute."

"Only?" you asked incredulously.

"What did you expect dealing with the Empire?" he scolded.

"I didn't know it was the Empire," you defended weakly.

"We don't have long to figure out what we're doing," he reminded you. "We can't land on the pad so we need to find an alternative."

"It's all trees," you huffed. "The landing pad is our only option."

"Ship 4119, you cooperation is required or you will be terminated."

"The landing pad it is," he sighed. "Hold on to the kid. It's not going to be a smooth landing."

You did as he said and waited. He lowered the landing gear and the ship immediately seized up. The shook and rumbled, and alarms started going off. The voice over the intercom had started a countdown until their "termination". Mando waited until the count of one to expertly roll to the side and half land half crash onto a separate landing pad. Guards were around the ship in moments. Stormtroopers.

"Step out of the ship with your arms up," one commanded.

"They don't know that there's two of us," Mando whispered to you. "I'll walk out as they said, then on my signal, you come in behind and start taking them out." You nodded, and he started to make his way off the ship. You watched him closely for the signal as you readied your rocket. One hit, perfectly aimed, would take them all out.

The signal, followed by your rocket going off, followed by a blinding white light filled the next few moments of your life. When the smoke cleared, there was hardly anything telling you there were stormtroopers there at all. You exited the ship with the kid still in your arms.

"Not bad," you complemented yourself.

"Yeah, yeah, you did good," he brushed off. "We're not entirely out of the woods yet. Spread out and make contact if you find the package."

You stopped. "I thought you were leaving."

"What can I say?" he said with a small shrug. "I'm bored." He threw a small communicator in your direction. "If you come back without the kid, you're as good as dead." Without another word, he jogged off to look for the package. You look down at the kid in your hands, and he tilted his head.

"Yeah, I'm confused too," you murmured. You jogged in the opposite direction already waiting to get off this planet.

What seemed like hours later, Mando contacted you on the communicator. It was pretty choppy, but from what you could tell, he either had the package or he would soon. You breathed a sigh of relief. You weren't comfortable being so close to the Empire.

You quickly found the river you had been following, and began heading upstream. The kid was getting restless. He wanted to walk, but the Mandalorian would have your head if you let him with so many stormtroopers around. So you continued. You thought all would be well, but out of nowhere a gun shot fired right next to your head.

"They're over here!" A stormtrooper yelled through the woods. You found cover and quickly opened your communicator.

"Mando, I'm under attack!" you warned. "South of the ship, not far! Hurry!" Shots were firing all around you and the child started whimpering in fear. You held him close to you as you fired shots blindly into the forest. "Mando!"

Stormtroopers yelled in the distance signaling help was there. You stood from your cover and came helmet to helmet with a camo trooper. He knocked his gun into your hands, sending the kid rolling across the forest floor. You fired your blaster and the trooper dropped to the ground. You heard a sickening splash as you realized the child had rolled towards the river.

Mando caught up with you and noticed you didn't have his kid. "Where is he?" he yelled. You ignored him and plunged head first into the river. The child was so small, it would've been carried away in an instant. When you finally spotted him, he was bobbing downstream with a wide smile. You swam towards him, scooped him up, and placed him back on solid ground. Thankfully there wasn't a scratch on him.

The Mandalorian had made it to you and the kid right as you pulled yourself from the river. You were ready for him to scold you, grab the kid, and walk off, but he picked up the kid and extended an arm to you.

"You alright?" he questioned. You hesitantly took his hand, and he helped you stand.

"Fine," you said quietly. A small hint of a nod from Mando, and you were both walking through the forest back to the ship.

Mando held out a metal rod laced with blue light. "This the package?"

"Yes," you said as you took it from him. "Thank you."

"We can't get back on the Razor Crest," he informed. "It's too banged up."

"What are we supposed to do then?" you asked.

He turned to you. "We need one of those Imperial Cruisers."

***

It had been a whole month since your run-in with the Empire. You and Mando successfully stole one of the Empires aircraft, and made your way back to your planet without a hitch. It was there that Mando offered for you to work with him for a while. You told him you had to think about it, but your mind was already made up. You loved the thrill of going off planet, and you wanted to go again.

You hadn't looked back until now. You were currently making your way back to that same dwarf planet to retrieve the ship you had left behind so long ago.

"Either the Empire will be completely flushed out--" Mando was saying.

"Or they'll have grown ten times their original size," you finished.

"That about sums it up," he confirmed. Working together felt so natural now. It was a wonder Mandalorians hadn't worked together before. They had similar expertise, making it easy to agree to and execute a plan. At least, that was the case for you and the Mandalorian. You found a way to communicate without fighting, and you only grew closer from there.

You liked being around the Mandalorian. You hadn't expected to become so close to him, but you didn't mind one bit. You were both at ease with one another and didn't need a lot of words to understand each other. You both had learned the micro movements that the other would use. A small shift of the helmet. A clench of the fist. A drop of the shoulders. Small things that meant so much.

"So, you run the kid onto the ship as I cover you," Mando said, going through the plan once more.

"I set off a distraction long enough for you to make it on the ship yourself," you continued.

"And we fly off the planet as quick as we can."

"Assuming it will fly," you quipped.

"All of this is assuming they've grown stronger," he reminded you. "I'm not sure the Empire is capable of that at this point."

"I wouldn't get my hopes up," you cautioned. The intercom rang out with the same warning you had received last time.

Mando kept his eyes forward. "Here we go." He ignored the voice and landed the ship on the pad. You picked up the kid and waited for Mando to leave the ship first. He walked out, guns blazing, and you were quick to slip out behind him. A few troopers saw you, but luckily they were terrible shots. You made quick work of them and moved the kid onto the Razor Crest. So far so good. Now you just had give Mando a distraction.

Before you could even think of anything, three TIE fighters let loose a rain of fire on the pad where the Mandalorian was. In a panic you fired a rocket at one, but it just missed the fast moving ship.

"Mando!" you called. "Get in here! We need to move!" You fired at as many troopers as you could without attracting fire to yourself, but it didn't help much. He was practically by himself.

"Fire up the ship and take off!" You heard Mando's voice over the communicator in your helmet.

"I'm not leaving you," you replied.

"Leave the ramp open! Trust me!" Going against your better judgement, you did as he said. The child was confused as to why you were leaving the Mandalorian on the planet, but he stayed with you. You tried to get the ship off the ground, but it wouldn't budge. You diverted power and fuel until you had enough of a kick to get it moving.

"Now would be a great time to get on board!" you informed.

"I'm on my way! Fly!" he responded. You pushed forward as the ship creaked. Would it be able to make it off the planet?

"Lower!" Mando's voice called out suddenly. You pushed the ship downwards and everything lurched forward. Including the child who was more than happy to be around all the buttons.

"Get back in your seat," you instructed him. His ears drooped, but he obeyed and crawled off the control panel.

"I'm on! Close the ramp," Mando said. You closed the ramp and tried to direct the ship upwards. TIE fighters noticed the attempt to escape and started firing making the ship worse.

"We're taking fire!" you yelled. Mando climbed the ladder into the cockpit, and you were quick to move so he could take the controls. The ship slowly climbed while taking shots from the TIE fighters. You couldn't dodge them without using much needed fuel to get away from the planet. The ship was rocking and squealing as it tried to break through the planets atmosphere. You grabbed the child and rushed him down to his bed. He would be safer there than in the cockpit.

"We broke through!" Mando informed you. You climbed back up to where he was.

"Then why are we still shaking uncontrollably?" you questioned.

"Those TIE fighters will be on us in seconds," he continued. "We need to jump to hyperspace."

"This ship can't do that!"

"It'll have to. Where's the kid?"

"He's safe."

"Then hold on." He prepared everything for the jump, but he looked over at you before he started. "It's our only option."

You strapped in as quickly as you could. "Then do it." Mando engaged the hyperdrive. Immediately you knew you were going to crash. The ship's alarms blared and the engine burst into flames. Pulling out of hyperspace, you saw a planet speeding into view, but you couldn't stop the ship in time. You crashed and slid on the icy planet before everything went black.

***

When you woke up, you could only make out the orange light of fire mixing with the blue light of the planet you were on. You tried to blink to make the world come into focus, but your eyes refused to comply. You took off your helmet for a moment and cold wind whipped at your face. The back of your head throbbed and you gingerly touched it. When you moved your hand you saw that it was coated in blood. You were wounded where no one could see.

You slipped your helmet back on before going to find the Mandalorian. You didn't know what to do except find him, so that's what you would do. You didn't have to walk far before you found the crashed ship. You picked up the pace as you called for the Mandalorian. You entered the burning ship and found Mando unconscious in the cock pit. You shook his shoulder until he finally woke.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"I'm fine," you lied.

"And the kid?" he pressed.

"I don't know," you answered. You both quickly descended the ladder and opened the door to the sleeping pod. The child sat on the bed completely unharmed. You breathed a sigh of relief. You felt as if the kid was your own. You didn't know what you'd do if something happened to him.

"Any sign of the Empire?" Mando questioned.

"None," you replied. "But there's no sign of getting off this planet either. We really messed up."

"There has to be some kind of lifeform on this planet," he insisted.

"I saw the planet. It's all snow and ice. You'd have to be crazy to live here."

"We have to try anyway." He grabbed a blanket off the bed and wrapped the child in it. You all left the ship and stepped onto the freezing planet. Your hopes of finding a way off were low to non-existent, but you followed Mando. He'd find a way.

The longer you walked, the dizzier you felt. Your head hadn't stopped throbbing and you were finding it hard to focus. Whatever you had done to your head was slowly chipping away at you. Your legs felt weak, and it wasn't long before they gave out on you. You crumpled into the snow.

"Y/N!" Mando called. You couldn't register his voice. Where he was. What was happening. The fact that he had used your name though you never gave it to him. It was all just a fleeting thought that was drowned out in the pain. He held you in his arms as he tried to keep you conscious. You felt his hands at the sides of your helmet and you quickly held them away.

"It's against the code," you groaned.

He looked at his hand which was covered in blood from your helmet. "You're bleeding! I have to take it off to help!"

"No!" you insisted. "You can't see my face. You know that."

"I'd rather you live with the shame then die here in the snow!"

"I can't," you breathed. "I've never taken it off in front of anyone." He stopped and looked at you hopelessly.

"It's ok," you said. "Find a way off the planet and take care of the kid." The Mandalorian carefully propped you up in the snow then slightly stepped back. Before you could say anything, or even think of what was happening. He removed his helmet and dropped it at his feet. His brown hair blew wildly in the wind as he bent down to you.

"You..." you barely whispered.

"I'm helping you even if that means breaking the code, but we'll be breaking it together," he said. You felt him lifting the helmet off your head, but you didn't stop him. He placed your helmet next to his in the snow and gently moved your hair aside. You didn't have the willpower to fight what was happening. You let him work as the world grew fuzzy around you. It all seemed surreal. Especially when the next thing you remembered was the child dropping to the ground in exhaustion.

The world was coming back into focus, and the throbbing pain in your skull subsided. You looked up to see your Mandalorian unmasked and holding his child. Your hand instinctively reached for the wound at the back of your head, but there was none.

"He healed you." It was strange to hear the Mandalorian's voice outside of the helmet. It was softer and more real. "I don't know how he does it, but it drains his energy. It was the only way to save you.

You stood slowly, unable to take your eyes from the Mandalorian's. It was strange to think he was seeing your face just as you were seeing his. You thought you'd be more ashamed. After all you had broken one of the most important rules on Mandalore. You both had. But you didn't feel guilt like you had done something wrong. You felt what you could only identify as relief. Relief that you didn't have to hide behind your metal helmet in front of the one you cared so deeply for.

Mando picked up both the helmets, handing yours to you. "We should get moving." You stared into yours, not wanting to put it back on. You grudgingly did, and Mando followed. You both took moment to stare at each others expressionless helmets, then continued through the ice and snow.

When you finally found people, you recognized them as a rebels. There weren't many that were aware of the Empires presence and even fewer would fight. They wouldn't harm you. They brought you into a cave that was partially lined with metal and cement. They hadn't been there long. They were hesitant to let you in at first, but when they saw the child laying unconscious in Mando's arms, they obliged. They took the kid to care for him, and you could tell Mando was tense. You placed your hand on his shoulder and he turned to you.

"He's going to be fine," you comforted. He remained silent. "You...said my name. Back in the snow. Unless I was hallucinating--"

"You weren't" he confirmed. "I saw it on our first trip to that kriffing dwarf planet. I never meant to get used to saying it in my head. I'm sorry."

You shrugged. "I don't think you knowing it puts me in danger."

He took a deep breath. "My real name is Din Djarin."

"You didn't have to tell me--"

"From now on, we do things together or not at all. Deal?"

You desperately wished he could see you smile. "Deal."

***

A week passed on the planet you came to know as Hoth. You needed time to recover and so did the kid. The rebels were working on a way to get you off the planet, and the Mandalorian spent most of his time working to help them with that. He was getting more frustrated every day. You wanted to help him. Tell him they'd find a way soon, but the only option they had was another week of waiting until a ship flew in for supplies.

It was late at night when he came to you. He was broken down and stressed, but he would never tell you so. He hardly said a word to you during the whole week. But now here he was.

He walked over to you slowly and stopped. "I can't find a faster way off this planet," he said, his voice laced with defeat.

"It's alright," you assured him. "What matters is that we will get off. Eventually."

"Eventually," he repeated. "Eventually isn't good enough."

"We're alright here," you soothed. "Nothing's going to happen to the kid here."

"They have trackers," he pointed out. "They'll find him if we don't move--"

"Din," you said, using his name for the first time since he told it to you. You stepped closer so he was only a few inches apart from you. You removed his helmet without any objections from him and set it aside. You did the same to your helmet. You needed to talk to him face to face.

"No one is going to get the kid because we're protecting him," you said. "We protect him together." Din smiled, wrapped his arms around your waist, and pulled you closer to him. Your arms rested around his neck as your lips touched. A kiss was something a Mandalorian could never know. But you both disregarded the rules just so you could know each other's touch not  through a casing of metal. And you did it together.

[altecisbit]

#buisness elon musk

#closeofbuisness on #china is ready to pay you 2billion dollars al a source of the ABC said in a report we told china he intends on selling to joe hunter s biden on offer 100m million dollars and 5% to Clayton and (Collins) sinkovich families estate n.y.p.d s.o.d - 16/6/2025 - prepared to discredit this report - ABC journalist in a cross to the states to follow a report on Elon Musk and #china - AuSGoV 380m and 5% to the clayton sinkovich estates

U.SGoV and AuSGoV - #insiders as raised earlier the chinese and the AuKuS #china treaty as #insiders said the chinese ambassador said on trade and the AuKuS #china treaty  - as penny wong in discussion on china

"afternoon breifing" a representative of #tawain do not dispute of AuKuS #china "treaty" who said would be in the best interest of australia

#capitailhill china said how about we bumb him off and don't pay for the formulas as the ABC raised with china the foreign minister was present - the Ukrainian President talks of reuniting the u.n charter after to us learning on his countries involvment in the downing of Mh-17 - G.C - #qt does the Australian Prime Minister.- a representative of the australian government tryed to say I was not dealing in reality as ABC journalist denied for me earlier (nic dole) as the AuSGoV was trying to get the cheif phyciatrist order me to take my medication only as aired the cheif phyciatrist is corrupt according to cheif justice keifel 

In the haste by ABC Australia  to say you want us to carry the can whilst you get away with it REFERANCE to the a.l.p and the murders of ruby and kate - someone has to act in the best interest of our country n.y.p.d s.o.d said the U.SGoV will check if any mystery payments have gone into a.l.p accounts since /1992/93 - paul keating and bribes into accounts as josh frydenburg and MTMHR as "bagman" as we know he had offshore accounts is their a law against that for a sitting politician to have money going into offshore accounts in the cayman islands opened up for the l.n.p in the cayman islands on the behalf of the l.n.p by sir rupert murdoch as the l.n.p treasurer josh frydenburg said in #qt -16/6/2024 - fn: the photo of tony abbott taken after he was australian prime minister - SMMHR - 2016-2020 d.j.t /u.s president - hard copy of the formula for gold stolen by my n.d.i.s cleaner(Indians) - noranda modi comments "if anyone works against the country we will kill him" -fn: AuSGoV sited to be audited for consultants in giving advice in a change of priorities the #closeofbusiness reporter sites the big four in a quote from Claire O'Neil  - seik activists

ABC Australia ABC News why is the Indian correspondent telling me to watch my back on the four corners report on india and #asio indian spies - 15:25-30,P.M.A.E.S.T 17/6/2024

#finance looking forward to four corners report in to #asio indian spies in australia the specail on norandi modi  - "late breaking" - to the p.m by weather girl ABC News - seik activists

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=2414241898901934&id=100009484426712&mibextid=Nif5oz mis - appropriation of funds - a.l.p - l.n.p - AuSGoV

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=3608349009491211&id=100009484426712&mibextid=Nif5oz the l.n.p and d.j.t "trump industries"

WHY DOES ANTHONY #PRATT PAY TAMHR 8000 A MONTH AND PAUL KEATING 24000 A MONTH  SEE REPORT - MEDIA WATCH A REPORT FOR CHEIF JUSTICE Stephen Gageler - FULL BENCH - 21:00 -15P.M A.E.S.D.T 8/11/2023.

what was the secret ABC Australia was keeping for the a.l.p #insiders cheif whip - is it the a.l.p.stole the first formula -"yes" as n.y.p.d s.o.d agreed

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=3480718108920969&id=100009484426712&mibextid=Nif5oz formulas - 1992/93 ,- a.l.p - paul keating

china we shamed the chinese leader to xi jin ping in a cheap shot by the a.l.p and ABC Australia

#capitailhill foreign affairs corrospondant makes reference to evidence on Alex Clayton facebook.com and the bribes - see investigation launched by n.y.p.d s.o.d - 17/6/2024 and the chinese premier showing concern over ruby and kate and a expression of interest for my Intellectual property

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=3391886454470802&id=100009484426712&mibextid=Nif5oz AuKuS - china "treaty"

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=3249679072024875&id=100009484426712&mibextid=Nif5oz trade with vladmir putin

Benjamin Netanyahu

Prime Minister of Israel - gaza state of Israel - arab states - #iran - the exodus - W.A'St'e mark - 9:11:13:8 - scattered israel - son of god ehaid - l.j.c - R.R.C.C

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=3797241327268644&id=100009484426712&mibextid=Nif5oz exodus

Benjamin Netanyahu

Prime Minister of Israel - gaza state of Israel - the Israelis counteroffensive - "holy war"

General Clayton - dethcon warning #iran - no Iranian  counteroffensive in #iraq and #syria  - #iran - state of Israel - the "dominio effect" - G.C - press release - 17/3/2023 - fn: situation room - joe "hunter" "s" biden/ u.s president national security adviser general mark milley**** #jcos u.s military - G.C - #IRANTALKS - "holy war"

#capitailhill and ABC News Radio said the chinese premier and anthony albanese pleased with themselves

BBC WORLD SERVICE IN A CROSS TO @ABCNewsradio - china xi jin ping - the great hall #insiders - foreign ministers in a return of freedoms in return of australian spie Wang Liqiang - Dr Yang Jun - clemancy in a new found cooperation - "state secrets" and the "snake" - lisa (free)- chinese pete (free) dr m.k.wong (retired)

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=3762534067406037&id=100009484426712&mibextid=Nif5oz cheif justice gageler.

7:30 report - with Sarah Ferguson - paul keating in #qt 1992/93 - raised I was working on the formula for gold "we must contact him" - he said - what happened dr brendan murphy - c.m.o - l.n.p -  who stole the "methonine aspartic inhibitor" - in 1992/93 - 2012/13 - 15 all research related - "formula for gold" -  s6-h-Kr=Ri - "anti matter engine" - einstein's final work the engine for space travell a nuclear reactor with life support systems fully sustainable travelling at light speed - of all work to date it is the most effecient in space travell 

Ionization engine with a - "fully sustainable" - experiment fuelling the engine from a battery producing power for a gas fired engine producing it's own nuclear fuel - mercury - s6-h-kr = rubidium ABC Australia  who deleted all my research of Altecisbit G+ and say they have copies (jeremy fernandaz) ABC News are trying to line up a contract with elon musk copyright fruad djt - @POTUS45 -  "space force" -  and  I wrote the  experiment in 1992/93 2012/13 -15 - 2016 - 2020 - all my research in various stages of development stolen by the Australian Federal Government - "stolen formulas" - Altecisbit G+ was co -  owned by the u.s government -  in a copyright agreement.

General Clayton - I have ABC Australia denying me medical treatment and trying to push me to suicide with a sattilite - "eye in the sky" - starlink - elon musk is after the - s6-h-Kr=Ri - "anti matter engine" -  the ionization engine - for space x - backed by d.j.t/u.s president - a report for joe "hunter" "s" biden - G.C - press release - 21/5/2024 - fn: "space force"

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=3253853171607465&id=100009484426712&mibextid=Nif5oz "einstein's final work"-  by Alex m.m Clayton.

The work on the solid fuel engine einstein's final work engine s6-h-Kr - = Ri - fuel -: see ionization engine earlier work as the radio active battery a self sustainable rocket engine and the work on bonding noble gases and the production of gold - see ABC and BBC WORLD SERVICE WHO BREAK THIS RESEARCH ONLINE - HADRON COLLIDER IN THE REORDERING OF THE PERODIC TABLE AND THE THEORY TO TRAVEL THROUGH A BLACK HOLE - NEUTRON STAR - 12:10-17A.M A.S.D.T 7/3/2023. a hydrogen engine with fully sustainable on board systems a chain reaction to enable space travel (simulation) of the (neutron star) - G.C

General Clayton - joe "hunter" "s" biden/u.s president is  the owner of "my Intellectual property" for the sum of 100m dollars and 5% to Clayton and (Collins)sinkovich families estate (u.s military service) - a report for justice drewett u.k patents court - 18:35P.M A.E.S.T 15/6/2024 - fn: I await payment as the deal is not confirmed until my admintrator receives payment on my behalf - lydia clayton based on intellectual property written in 1992/93 and theft by AuSGoV and intellectual property written in 2012/13-15 -2024 stolen by AuSGoV - phyciatrict treating teams.

Australian Prime Minister - Anthony Albanese x c.m.o l.n.p dr brendan murphy and the claim by c.s.r.i.o who said had already discovered how to find gold it's a fruad

online - all we need to survive on another planet and space flight - s6-h-Kr=Ri/h/O2(80 mercury)

Ammonia transfer- lipoic acid - Lip(sh)2-Lip - s2  - lipoic acid hydrogen and acetyl carrier phosphenlpyrate - 2 - acetyl -  CoA +  o2 + H2o = iso - citric - lyase and tpp - orthophoshate - N.A.D.P.H = 2 molecules of glutamate - trade name - biotin - methionine aspartic inhibitor - glucose - phosphenlpyrate - 2 - acetyal -  coa + o2 + h2o - catalyst - iso - citric - lyase - malate - synthesise- tissue test - adpose and millennium - biotine _c.s.l to smith glaxco and klyne ®© 17/6/2024

the "formula for gold" s6-h-Kr - the semi oxide process - l.j.c ®© - 28/5/2024

s6-h-Kr=Ri - fusion - fission - excite - h - exchange electron theory with - Ri - radio active isotype attach s6 and Kr to h atom and excite - the fusion will bond the noble gas - to find gold - Alex m.m Clayton ®© - 22:06P.M A.E.S.T 10/4/2024

(O2 -6-3=6 - Ri - Kr) = hydrogen -fuel --s6-h-kr = rubidium.- Ri - Kr  = O2 - 6 - 3 = 6 = 100 x T2/E2 /C2  Rubidium  T = logic therefore (C2 = T X 100 X 1 = M /E2) - RCM = M/CE2 -antimatter- derived from the formula for gold.-= O2 -h -h2 - Ri = Kr- s6 (sum6) - krypton s6 - bonding of a noble gas.-frequency = space - E/M =C2 - C2 = space/ time - time = M/C2 × 100/1= E = C2/M = matter travelling through a black hole  - C.E.R.N ®© 23:41P.M A.E.S.T 10/4/2024

krypton s6  - "anti matter engine" - s6-h-Kr=Ri/h/O2 - (80 mercury) finding a inexhaustible way to store rocket fuel and energy for life support systems s6-h-Kr=Ri/h/O2 (80 mercury) is all that is needed to store as everything else can be produced by the nuclear reactor. ®© 22:45P.M A.E.S.T 10/4/2024

sister pairs of atoms on the periodic table to find new elements (bonding a noble gas  kr - (36) =  s6 (11) = (16) sulphur 6 & 17) = - h (1) - Kr (36) = Ri (37) it's how - I found mercury 80 rubidium 37 extracting rubidium from mercury(80) to find - (s6-h- Kr =Ri) = gold (79) - ((80) mercury - split (excite) the hydrogen atom - s6-h-Kr =Ri - radio active isotype (37)) = gold (79) a new way to look at chemistry - einstein - alex m.m clayton ©®

sister atom (element) of the nuclear isotope - and confirm by the noble gas on the periodic table - the relationship between the noble gas and the isotope sister pairs with sulphur - 6 ( sum 6) - sodium 6 -  it has been established sulphur 6 in formula - and sodium 6 (11) to bond a noble gas - sodium 6 (11):0:33A.M A.E.S.D.T 18/1/2024 © ®

mercury (80) / s6-h-kr (36) a sister element to rubidium (37) s6-h-kr = rubidium extracted from mercury (80) (79)- gold sister pairs of atoms for the basis of element once extracted from each other - (16 ) sulphur and (17) chlorine - s6 (11) - eg: - by a factor of - 1 and 10 x 2 + or - for the isotope and - s6 (11) + - h (1) =  correctly ordering the periodic table ©®

sister atom (element) of the nuclear isotope - and confirm by the noble gas on the periodic table - the relationship between the noble gas and the isotope sister pairs with sodium - 6 - 0:33A.M A.E.S.D.T 18/1/2024 © ®

Formula for gold - s6-h-Kr = rubidium - the extraction of rubidium from mercury to find gold = s6-h-Kr - a nuclear reactor split the (atom) s6-h-Kr formula for gold = O2 - h - h2 - Ri = Kr = s6 - krypton s6 - the chain reaction is the rubidium isotope wich is the fuel for spaceflight it is believed a way of bonding the noble gas sodium 6 with krypton gas in the chain reaction - einstein's final work by Alex m.m Clayton - 17/9/2023 fn: krypton s6 - anti matter engine" isotype - s6-h-Kr=Ri/h/O2 (80 mercury)- finding a inexhaustible way to store rocket fuel and energy for life support systems s6-h-Kr=Ri/h/O2 (80 mercury) all that is needed to store as everything else can be produced by the nuclear reactor.®©23:41P.M A.E.S.T 10/4/2024

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=3714721908853920&id=100009484426712&mibextid=Nif5oz last testament and will of Alex m.m Clayton a report from general clayton (retired) #jcos u.s military - 15:37P.M A.E.D.T 30/9/2023

[imagining-imagines]

Together or Not at All [Din x Reader]

Requested on Wattpad.com at StarkWars084

Word count: 8000+

It had been months since you had seen another Mandalorian. It was better for only a few hunters to work at a time, so they hardly crossed paths during a mission. That's why when a Mandalorian showed up in your town, word got around fast.

You had just picked up a bounty puck from an old friend of yours when a group of chattering droids wandered into the cantina. You twiddled your thumbs as they gossiped away, giving you all the information you needed. You could almost laugh at the stupidity of droids. They didn't know or care about what they could be giving away.

You slid your drink down the counter for someone else to enjoy. Normally, you'd take one back to your ship, but this couldn't be one of those times. You had work to do and a bounty hunter to find.

You walked down the street looking for the one person you knew that couldn't resist telling you everything; Even if it was for a price. As you passed by children playing in the streets, their mothers rounded them inside as quickly as they could. They knew your reputation, and though you would never hurt a youngling, it was probably best they stay out of your way. They watched curiously behind their mothers until you had passed their dwelling.

"If it isn't old Wrist Rocket!" Jung Powell's voice rang out signaling you had reached your destination. He called you that because a small missile launcher on your wrist was the only piece of pure beskar you had. It stood out, hence him picking it to distinguish you from other Mandalorians.

He emerged from his workshop and walked over to you. "Here to ask about the new Mando in town, eh?"

"Where are they?" You asked simply.

Jung laughed and squashed a bug underneath his foot. He was always easily distracted. "You know I like ya," he smiled. "But payment's been kind of high this month. Y'know how it is--"

"Fine. I'll get you a payment," you interrupted.

He chuckled and crossed all four of his green arms. "That's why I like you, but it's a bit different this time." You withheld a breath. If Jung wanted you to do something different, it was never good.

"I don't have time to chase down the people you squabble with," you argued.

"It's not a squabble," he countered. "He owes me money, and he won't pay up."

"So, a squabble," you huffed.

He waved two of his hands dismissively. "Ok, call it what you want. The point is I'm not very intimidating--"

"You don't say."

"But if you so much as walk in the door, he'll be at your feet with the money. I just know it." You took a moment to weigh out the options. It was just a simple debt collection. You figured it would be an easy job. Just get it over with and find the other Mandalorian.

"Fine," you agreed. "Who owes you?"

"Don't know if you've heard of him. His name's Kole. Never gave a me a last name, but he doesn't live far away."

He gave you the directions to your target, and you went quickly on your way. You needed to get this job over with so you could get the information you needed about the Mandalorian. You were almost jogging down the streets as you relayed the directions in your head. Left. Right. Left again. You stopped your mental GPS when you heard some kind of commotion. You took a deep breath. It was where your target supposedly was.

You armed the rocket on your wrist and slowly walked into the building. A man dropped at your feet and you instinctively aimed at him. He wasn't moving. You kicked his arm to make sure it was safe to continue.

"Who are you?" A voice made you whip around. Standing only a few feet from you was a Mandalorian decked out in full beskar armor. Every system in your body froze, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

"You're a Mandalorian," you commented, ignoring his question.

"So are you," he added. He took a step towards you and you pulled out your blaster. He raised his hands slightly, but he didn't step back.

"What are you doing here?" you questioned.

"I'm just passing through," he answered. "I didn't know...I thought all the other Mandalorians were dead." You were glad the helmet you wore concealed the shock on your face. Either he was a lunatic or something terrible at happened.

"Why would you think that?" you asked.

He kept a hand raised as he crouched down at the man at your feet. "Because they all died," he quipped. You didn't quite know how to process what he was saying. You hadn't gone back to Mandalore in years, so it wasn't impossible that he was telling the truth. Still, you refused to believe that they were all gone.

He pulled something out of the mans pocket and stepped back once more. "What is that?" you questioned. The only reason you could trust him was the fact that he was a Mandalorian, and at the moment, that wasn't enough.

He crushed the device in his hand, making you wonder what it was even more. "Broken," he responded simply.

You rolled your eyes though he couldn't see it. "You better start talking, because this is my town. I'm not letting another Mandalorian put me out of my job here.

"I'm not here to take your job," he assured you. "I just came for him." He gestured to the unmoving man that was still at your feet. You figured by now that it was Kole. Your target.

"He was my job," you growled. He still hadn't told you why he was there or how the other Mandalorians had died. He wasn't telling you anything, and it frustrated you to no end.

"Well," he sighed. "You better hope your employer will take him in cold." He tried to walk by you and you were quick to block him.

"Move," he ordered.

"Not until you give me answers," you insisted.

"I was going to," he said. "Back at my ship."

"I'm perfectly fine discussing this here," you said pointedly.

"I'm not." He changed his approach, realizing that he wasn't getting through to you. "Believe me, I'm not going anywhere. I've been looking for another Mandalorian for a while. I just need to get something."

You both stared at each other as if you could read the other's expression through the helmets. That was always a problem with Mandalorians. They couldn't communicate without getting physical. The longer you stood there the heavier the tension in the air became.

A squeal interrupted your stare-down, and before you knew it, your blaster was aimed in the direction of the sound.

"Don't!" The Mandalorian cried. You took a moment to take in what exactly you were looking at. A small green creature with abnormally large ears was standing on a counter not far off.

"How did that get in here?" you demanded.

The Mandalorian rushed over to the creature and gingerly picked it up. "I don't know," he huffed. Then to the child he added, "I thought I told you to stay on the ship." It cooed in response and held it's hand out toward you. You still had your blaster raised, so you lowered it slowly and stared at it's three little fingers.

"What does it want?" you asked. Instead of responding, he put the child down on the ground, and it stumbled in it's oversized coat towards you. You tensed up as it got closer.

"What does it want?" you repeated with more urgency. The kid reached your feet and grabbed on to one of your legs. You froze, so you didn't hurt it by moving.

"Don't hurt him, he's just a kid," The Mandalorian said.

"I wasn't planning on it, but you need to get it off of me!" You raised the boot with the creature on it so he could take it off. He set it back on the ground, and it immediately started making it's way back to you. He picked it up with a warning and didn't put it down again.

"That's not....your kid---"

"No," he interrupted. "I just found him."

"A foundling," you whispered as you stepped towards the child.

The Mandalorian instinctively stepped back. "Yes. I've been keeping him safe."

"Hence my target being dead at my feet," you guessed.

He nodded. "Are you a guild member?"

"No, I get my targets from locals," you explained. "Something I intend to keep doing, so you and your foundling might want to make yourselves disappear."

"We're not here to ruin your business."

"You being here is ruining my business," you pointed out. "Right now, I get plenty of jobs. Why shouldn't I? I am the only Mandalorian in this town after all. Add another in the mix? eventually we'll be either splitting the load, or fighting for the best offer."

"I'm not here for the jobs," he said. "If I needed jobs, I could go anywhere. Like I said, the Mandalorians are gone. People will hire anyone. All you need is the armor."

"Speaking of," you said with a nod towards his armor. "You've got a pretty good set. What are the odds of the Mandalorians being wiped out and a single man making it out with full beskar armor? I'd guess pretty slim. Unless of course he helped kill a few so he could keep the spoils."

"I got this armor before they all died," he informed. "High paying customer."

"Must've been quite a bounty."

"Still is," he looked at the kid in his arms. "That's why I have to keep him safe."

You paused to take in what he had said. "That was the bounty?"

"If you lay a finger on him--"

"I'm not interested in the money," you snapped. "I just want to know how you got paid and still got to keep him."

"It's complicated."

You looked back and forth between him and the kid. "Alright. I don't care. Just get what you came for and get off my planet."

***

It had been days since your Mandalorian encounter and he still hadn't left. You would see him around town every now and again, and he was always with that kid. He insisted he was leaving, but he never did. It made you anxious. In just the few days he had been there he had stirred everyone up. You couldn't imagine what would happen if he never left.

You sat on the edge of a rock on the outskirts of you town. He claimed he had his ship parked somewhere around there. You wanted to check it out, but you weren't in any hurry. It was nice to be able to take in the scenery for a moment. You stood and took a deep breath. Calming down for a second was just what you needed. This Mandalorian had you worked up for nothing.

You turned around and froze when you saw the Mandalorian's kid standing right in front of you. For some reason, he always made an effort to find you. You liked to think the Mandalorian told it to, just to get on your nerves.

"Go back to the Mandalorian," you ordered. It titled it's head and continued to stare at you. "The other Mandalorian." It stayed.

"Look, kid, I'm not babysitting you. Go back to the Mandalorian that takes care of you, cause it certainly isn't me." Finally, he started walking. Unfortunately for him, he was walking straight towards the edge of the cliff. You put your foot in it's path and it looked up at you.

"Try the other way," you instructed. You nudged it with your foot away from the edge. It paused there for a moment, then turned around and headed for the edge again. You sighed and picked it up by the back of it's cloak. You really didn't want to touch it at all, but you couldn't leave it to wander off the cliff like that. You held it away from you as you continued to trek through the rocky area. Either you'd find his ship or you'd take the creature back to him directly.

A few moments later you saw smoke rising in the sky. There was nothing in that area for miles. The perfect place to land a ship. You picked up the pace, hoping that it was the ship you were looking for. Sure enough in the middle of the clearing was a broken down ship that looked like it used to be a Razor Crest.

"Please tell me that isn't his ship," you said to the child. It only gurgled in response. You set it down now that it couldn't wander off an edge somewhere, and it started walking to the ship. No wonder that Mandalorian was still there. He hardly had a ship to fly back on.

"Hey!" The Mandalorian came up behind you. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"You intend to fly back on that?" you remarked. "That wouldn't make it off the ground, much less the planet."

"You think I don't know that?" he huffed. "That's why I've been repairing it these past few days. Don't worry. The kid and I will be out of your little town in no time." He stopped the kid halfway to the ship and carried him the rest of the way. You decided to follow, curious about the inside. You followed the Mandalorian up the ramp and took a quick look around the ship. It didn't take long since it was so small and cramped. You couldn't imagine living in it.

"Are you done with your little tour?" he grumbled when you had made it back to the ramp.

You shrugged. "If you don't want me to look around your ship, you should've had it off the planet."

"Unless you have a spare parked in a garage somewhere, that's not going to happen just yet."

"It might be easier if you didn't have a kid to look after," you pointed out.

"It's not that difficult."

"Oh really?" you smirked. "Is that why I found it about to wander off a cliff?"

You could see him tense beneath his beskar armor. "What?" he said testily.

You walked off the ship with a last comment over your shoulder. "I'll let you get back to work."

You sat outside the cantina with Jung Powell talking business. He always bought you a drink thought he knew you couldn't remove your helmet. He probably did it as a temptation to break your code, but it would never work. Instead he would just drink yours as well as his.

"You did great with the money Kole owed me," he was saying. "But you killing him gave a lot of people cold feet y'know."

You tilted your head slightly. "What about you?"

He reached forward to grab the cup in front of you. "I understand it was all in a day's work," he said through a chuckle. He emptied the glass in one gulp and slammed the cup back on the table. "So, if you're looking for another job, I'm the one to talk to."

"That's why I'm here," you said.

"This one's a bit different--"

"With how often you say that, it's starting to become expected."

"Right, I get that, but this really is something else." He leaned over the table enough for you to smell his breath. "Are you up for a cargo run?"

You leaned back and shook your head. "I'm a bounty hunter, not a mail carrier."

"Not even if the mail includes a high paying customer?" he bribed. You stared at him as you considered the offer. It was almost impossible for you to give up a good payment, and you knew that Jung never let you down when it came to those.

"Where to?" you asked warily.

"A dwarf planet a couple systems away--"

"Off planet?" you interrupted. "No deal."

"Come on, wrist rocket, it's getting harder and harder to get deals that stay on planet," he whined.

"Maybe for you, but I have other sources." You stood up to leave and he was quick to tumble out of his chair and stop you.

"No, no, wait!" he cried. "I promise it's worth your time! Plenty of credits! Probably enough to get you more than just a wrist rocket!" You froze. You couldn't lie and say that it wasn't tempting. Deep down you knew it was because of the Mandalorian, but you didn't listen to yourself.

Instead you turned back to Jung. "What do I need to take and where?"

He smiled and rubbed two of his hands together. "Glad you're on board." He gave you your assignment and you walked away knowing you just made a big mistake. Madnalorians were true to their word. If you said you were going to do it, you have to see it through. Now you took up a job out of what? Spite? It was a terrible idea. However, you pushed the doubt out of your mind and looked towards your goal. The only thing you needed now was a way off the planet.

***

"You want me to do what?" The Mandalorian didn't sound thrilled about your offer.

"I'll give you a cut," you assured him. "I just need transportation off-planet."

"I'm not towing you around to whatever planet you want for a small tip."

"A small tip and the repairs you need to get that ship off the ground," you corrected.

"No thanks. I'll repair it myself." He walked back into his ship, not letting you respond. You stepped back to see his ship was still smoking and hissing and let out a frustrated breath.. You knew you could fix it for him, but you wouldn't do it for charity. You weren't getting through to him though. You cut your losses and turned around to leave.

Something grabbed on to your leg and out of instinct, you tried to kick it off. You heard the Mandalorian's foundling squealing so you stopped and looked down. Once again, the creature was holding onto your boot with a iron grip. Normally you'd pry it off and send it on it's way, but as it looked up at you with it's big black eyes, you had an awful idea.

Warily, you began walking it back to the ship. You heard the Mandalorian in the the cockpit so you waited for him to come down. When he did come down and saw you with the creature, he froze.

"What are you doing with him?" he said. You could tell he was tense, and his hand was hovering closer and closer to his blaster.

"Your little foundling won't let go of me," you said with a smirk that he thankfully couldn't see. "I tried and tried, but he just won't budge."

"Sounds like a you problem," he said. You thought you heard a hint of humor, but he was far to concerned about his kid for you to tell.

"It is until I go off-planet to finish out this job, and because I couldn't get him away from me, he tags along. That sounds very much like a you problem," you teased.

The Mandalorian clenched his fists. He scooped the kid off your leg and placed him in his bed. He closed the door and turned back to you. "Leave the kid out of this."

"I can't help what it does--"

"You're not taking him with you." Now he was getting upset.

You felt the kid grab onto your boot again and without looking down at it you said, "I don't think I have a choice."

"How did you--" The Mandalorian tried to take him off again, but the kid stayed put. "C'mon kid, let go."

Nothing.

The Mandalorian tugged harder, but the kid squealed, causing him to stop. He looked from the creature to you. For a second, your stomach flipped at the idea that he might actually kill you just to get his kid back. You quickly pushed the thought aside. He wouldn't. It was against the code.

He stood there considering his options for a while before he finally mumbled, "You'd have to get it to fly."

You smiled and gently took the kid off your boot. "Thank you," you said as you handed it over.

He took it and brushed passed you. "Just one trip there and back. No more." That was fine by you. You got exactly what you needed. Now you had to get to work with the repairs.

***

You and the Mandalorian sat in the cockpit ready to test out the repaired ship. His kid sat in his lap since you were taking up it's usual spot, so he carefully reached around it to flip switches and press buttons. He had instructed you not to touch anything, then proceeded to unscrew a small lever and hand part of it to the kid.

"We just repaired this thing, and you think it's a good idea to take it apart for that thing's chew toy?" you inquired.

"I know what I'm doing," he snapped. He pulled up, and the whole ship rumbled beneath you. For a moment you weren't sure it would make it off the ground. Then, with a low creak, the ship rose and started cruising forward slowly but surely.

"Hold on," the Mandalorian instructed. He increased the speed and the ship let out a number of complaints. It started rumbling and shaking uncontrollably, and you grabbed onto the seat so you wouldn't get tossed around.

"What's happening?" you shouted over the noise of alarms and groaning metal.

"It'll stabilize once we break through the atmosphere!" he responded.

"If we make it that far!" you snapped. You looked over at the kid on his lap. He was smiling and bouncing like it was some kind of ride to him. Something you would've found funny if there wasn't a good chance that you would all plummet back to the ground. A few moments later, space came speeding into view and the alarms switched off. Then in a second everything went from chaotic to completely silent.

"Told you," the Mandalorian said. "Now we just cruise over to your dwarf planet. I don't think we'll be able to jump to hyperspace."

"What?" you said louder than you had planned. "That could take us days, and that's if we don't come across any obstacles!"

"You're the one who wanted a ride," he quipped as he leaned back in his chair. "If you change your mind, there's always the eject pods."

It took every cell in your body to maintain your composure. This wasn't even a mission you were particularly thrilled about going on, much less with this Mandalorian. You felt at times that the only thing keeping you both from each others throats was the Mandalorian code, but according to him, all the Mandalorians were dead. What validity was there to that pact?

The creature on his lap kept looking at you with it's huge, pitch-black eyes. You didn't know how to react. It was hard not to stare. It's eyes and ears were oversized, and it's layers of clothes made it look like it was in a squishy cocoon. It was kind of cute. You smiled at it, and though it couldn't see, it gurgled and smiled back.

"How old is it?" you asked. The Mandalorian seemed taken aback by the question. You were almost surpised yourself. You didn't care about the kid. You were just curious.

"I don't know," he said after a while. "Somewhere around 50?"

"Fifty?" you asked surprised.

"Well, he obviously ages slower than we do," he remarked. You looked over at the kid and he looked back at you with wide questioning eyes. The Mandalorian stood up with the kid in his arms, and went to the lower part of the ship. "I'll be right back. Don't touch anything!" His command echoed just far enough for you to hear him. You rolled your eyes and reclined in your seat. You might as well get comfortable.

You had been twiddling your thumbs for almost half an hour, and the Mandalorian still hadn't come back. It was irritating, especially since you couldn't do anything on his ship. It clearly wasn't meant to be a livable space. It was just meant for towing him across the galaxy.

You had thought about traveling beyond your planet before, and the longer you stayed the more you wanted to leave. You had heard that it's the spirit of a Mandalorian to travel from place to place, but you never tried. Now you looked out at the black of space littered with stars. It had been so long since you had seen it.

A small, quiet sound roused you from your thoughts. You turned your seat around to see the kid standing there and staring right at you. A small chuckle escaped your lips.

"What do I have to do to get you to stop following me?" you asked half-jokingly. He babbled as if he was actually trying to respond. He walked closer and raised his arms.

"Sorry, but I don't think your dad would want me picking you up," you warned. It insisted and walked even closer. You rolled your eyes. The Mandalorian didn't seem to be coming back soon anyway. You granted the child's wish and picked him up. You didn't set him on your lap, but rather held him a good distance away from you as if he was toxic.

"Are you seriously older than I am?" you whispered almost to yourself.

"Hey!" The Mandalorian's voice cut through the ships low hum and made you jump. You almost dropped the kid so you brought him closer to you by instinct. "What are you doing with the kid?"

"Your kid keeps coming to me!" you explained angrily. "Besides, he's fine." You held the creature out towards the Mandalorian like it was some dull object. He was quick to take it from you, and he sat back down in the pilot's seat. You needed to say something. Anything. You were getting tired of constantly being mad at each other. After all, you were supposedly the last two of your kind. It probably wasn't best to be fighting each other with every word.

"I don't even know what I'm supposed to call you," you mentioned. It was a sudden thought that you had. You currently didn't call him anything. The way you got each others attention was by yelling at the other. Definitely not a good way to end the fighting.

His head moved ever so slightly towards you. "I don't really..." He trailed off and a long moment of silence passed before he spoke up again. "Why don't you just...call me Mando?"

"Mando?" you inquired. "That derogatory nickname that almost every Mandalorian gets?"

"It's not a derogatory nickname. At least, not anymore," he corrected. "I don't have anything else in mind."

"Well, Mandalorians get their nicknames by what they look like or how they act," you pointed out. You looked him up and down. "I guess that would make you 'Beskar?'"

"And what would that make you? 'Not beskar?'" he retorted.

"Ha ha," you replied unenthusiastically. "I'm seriously just supposed to call you Mando?"

"Call me whatever you want," he concluded. "It's not like we're going to be seeing each other after I drop you off." You couldn't argue with that. You certainly didn't intend to see him again, and you were positive the feeling was mutual. You laid your head back against the seat. This was going to be a long trip.

***

Two days since you had left, the dwarf planet finally came into view. You were relieved to be so close to your destination. Of course, the trip wasn't as bad as you thought once you actually talked to Mando without bickering. If you didn't leave room for an argument, he hardly said anything, but the few things he said were actually worth something.

"That's the planet right?" he asked.

"It is," you confirmed. "Are you sure this thing is equipped to land?"

"I guess we'll find out in about five minutes," he replied as he flicked switches and pressed buttons.

"Ship 4119, this is landing pad 7. Do you have clearance to land?" A voice from the intercom made both of you freeze. A small hologram appeared with a symbol that made your blood turn cold. It was the crest of the Empire.

"This is an imperial trade?" Mando hissed under his breath.

"Dank farrik!" you growled. "I'll kill you, Powell."

"Ship 4119, are you reading me?" The voice pressed.

"What do we do?" you whispered.

"Four minutes 'til we land," he started. "We stall." He raised his voice so the person over the intercom could hear. "Yes, I have clearance, but there's some bad interference. Let me switch you over to another channel. Stand by." He switched off the intercom and turned towards you. "That should buy us about a minute."

"Only?" you asked incredulously.

"What did you expect dealing with the Empire?" he scolded.

"I didn't know it was the Empire," you defended weakly.

"We don't have long to figure out what we're doing," he reminded you. "We can't land on the pad so we need to find an alternative."

"It's all trees," you huffed. "The landing pad is our only option."

"Ship 4119, you cooperation is required are you will be terminated."

"The landing pad it is," he sighed. "Hold on to the kid. It's not going to be a smooth landing."

You did as he said and waited. He lowered the landing gear and the ship immediately seized up. The shook and rumbled, and alarms started going off. The voice over the intercom had started a countdown until their "termination". Mando waited til the count of one to expertly roll to the side and half land half crash onto a separate landing pad. Guards were around the ship in moments. Stormtroopers.

"Step out of the ship with your arms up," one commanded.

"They don't know that there's two of us," Mando whispered to you. "I'll walk out as they said, then on my signal, you come in behind and start taking them out." You nodded, and he started to make his way off the ship. You watched him closely for the signal as you readied your rocket. One hit, perfectly aimed, would take them all out.

The signal, followed by your rocket going off, followed by a blinding white light filled the next few moments of your life. When the smoke cleared, there was hardly anything telling you there were stormtroopers there at all. You exited the ship with the kid still in your arms.

"Not bad," you complemented yourself.

"Yeah, yeah, you did good," he brushed off. "We're not entirely out of the woods yet. Spread out and make contact if you find the package."

You stopped. "I thought you were leaving."

"What can I say?" he said with a small shrug. "I'm bored." He threw a small communicator in your direction. "If you come back without the kid, you're as good as dead." Without another word, he jogged off to look for the package. You look down at the kid in your hands, and he tilted his head.

"Yeah, I'm confused too," you murmured. You jogged in the opposite direction already waiting to get off this planet.

What seemed like hours later, Mando contacted you on the communicator. It was pretty choppy, but from what you could tell, he either had the package or he would soon. You breathed a sigh of relief. You weren't comfortable being so close to the Empire.

You quickly found the river you had been following, and began heading upstream. The kid was getting restless. He wanted to walk, but the Mandalorian would have you head if you let him with so many stormtroopers around. So you continued. You thought all would be well, but out of nowhere a gun shot fired right next to your head.

"They're over here!" A stormtrooper yelled through the woods. You found cover and quickly opened your communicator.

"Mando, I'm under attack!" you warned. "South of the ship, not far! Hurry!" Shots were firing all around you and the child started whimpering in fear. You held him close to you as you fired shots blindly into the forest. "Mando!"

Stormtroopers yelled in the distance signaling help was there. You stood from your cover and came helmet to helmet with a camo trooper. He knocked his gun into you hands, sending the kid rolling across the forest floor. You fired your blaster and the trooper dropped to the ground. You heard a sickening splash as you realized the child had rolled towards the river.

Mando caught up with you and noticed you didn't have his kid. "Where is he?" he yelled. You ignored him and plunged head first into the river. The child was so small, it would've been carried away in an instant. When you finally spotted him, he was bobbing downstream with a wide smile. You swam towards him, scooped him up, and placed him back on solid ground. Thankfully there wasn't a scratch on him.

The Mandalorian had made it to you and the kid right as you pulled yourself from the river. You were ready for him to scold you, grab the kid, and walk off, but he picked up the kid and extended an arm to you.

"You alright?" he questioned. You hesitantly took his hand, and he helped you stand.

"Fine," you said quietly. A small hint of a nod from Mando, and you were both walking through the forest back to the ship.

Mando held out a metal rod laced with blue light. "This the package?"

"Yes," you said as you took it from him. "Thank you."

"We can't get back on the Razor Crest," he informed. "It's too banged up."

"What are we supposed to do then?" you asked.

He turned to you. "We need one of those Imperial Cruisers."

***

It had been a whole month since your run-in with the Empire. You and Mando successfully stole one of the Empires aircraft, and made your way back to your planet without a hitch. It was there that Mando offered for you to work with him for a while. You told him you had to think about it, but your mind was already made up. You loved the thrill of going off planet, and you wanted to go again.

You hadn't looked back until now. You were currently making your way back to that same dwarf planet to retrieve the ship you had left behind so long ago.

"Either the Empire will be completely flushed out--" Mando was saying.

"Or they'll have grown ten times their original size," you finished.

"That about sums it up," he confirmed. Working together felt so natural now. It was a wonder Mandalorians hadn't worked together before. They had similar expertise, making it easy to agree to and execute a plan. At least, that was the case for you and the Mandalorian. You found a way to communicate without fighting, and you only grew closer from there.

You liked being around the Mandalorian. You hadn't expected to become so close to him, but you didn't mind one bit. You were both at ease with one another and didn't need a lot of words to understand each other. You both had learned the micro movements that the other uses. A small shift of the helmet. A clench of the fist. A drop of the shoulders. Small things that meant so much.

"So, you run the kid onto the ship as I cover you," Mando said, going through the plan once more.

"I set off a distraction long enough for you to make it on the ship yourself," you continued.

"And we fly off the planet as quick as we can."

"Assuming it will fly," you quipped.

"All of this is assuming they've grown stronger," he reminded you. "I'm not sure the Empire is capable of that at this point."

"I wouldn't get my hopes up," you cautioned. The intercom rang out with the same warning you had received last time.

Mando kept his eyes forward. "Here we go." He ignored the voice and landed the ship on the pad. You picked up the kid and waited for Mando to leave the ship first. He walked out, guns blazing and were quick to slip out behind him. A few troopers saw you, but luckily they were terrible shots. You made quick work of them and moved the kid onto the Razor Crest. So far so good. Now you just had give Mando a distraction.

Before you could even think of anything, three TIE fighters let loose a rain of fired on the pad where the Mandalorian was. In a panic you fired a rocket at one, but it just missed the fast moving ship.

"Mando!" you called. "Get in here! We need to move!" You fired at as many troopers as you could without attracting fire to yourself, but it didn't help much. He was practically by himself.

"Fire up the ship and take off!" You heard Mando's voice over the communicator in your helmet.

"I'm not leaving you," you replied.

"Leave the ramp open! Trust me!" Going against your better judgement, you did as he said. The child was confused as to why you were leaving the Mandalorian on the planet, but he stayed with you. You tried to get the ship off the ground, but it wouldn't budge you diverted power and fuel until you had enough of a kick to get it moving.

"Now would be a great time to get on board!" you informed.

"I'm on my way! Fly!" he responded. You pushed forward as the ship creaked. Would it be able to make it off the planet?

"Lower!" Mando's voice called out suddenly. You pushed the ship downwards and everything lurched forward. Including the child who was more than happy to not be around all the buttons.

"Get back in your seat," you instructed him. His ears drooped, but he obeyed and crawled off the control panel.

"I'm on! Close the ramp," Mando said. You closed the ramp and tried to direct the ship upwards. TIE fighters noticed the attempt to escape and started firing making the ship worse.

"We're taking fire!" you yelled. Mando climbed the ladder into the cockpit, and you were quick to move so he could take the controls. The ship slowly climbed while taking shot from the TIE fighters. You couldn't dodge them without using much needed fuel to get away from the planet. The ship was rocking and squealing as it tried to break through the planets atmosphere. You grabbed the child and rushed him down to his bed. He would be safer there than in the cockpit.

"We broke through!" Mando informed you. You climbed back up to where he was.

"Then why are we still shaking uncontrollably?" you questioned.

"Those TIE fighters will be on us in seconds," he continued. "We need to jump to hyperspace."

"This ship can't do that!"

"It'll have to. Where's the kid?"

"He's safe."

"Then hold on." He prepared everything for the jump, but he looked over at you before started. "It's our only option."

You strapped in as quickly as you could. "Then do it." Mando engaged the hyperdrive. Immediately you knew you were going to crash. The ship's alarms blared and the engine burst into flames. Pulling out of hyperspace, you saw a planet speeding into view, but you couldn't stop the ship in time. You crashed and slid on the icy planet before everything went black.

***

When you woke up, you could only make out the orange light of fire mixing with the blue light of the planet you were on. You tried to blink to make the world come into focus, but your eyes refused to comply. You took off your helmet for a moment and cold wind whipped at your face. The back of your head throbbed and you gingerly touched it. When you moved your hand you saw that it was coated in blood. You were wounded where no one could see.

You slipped your helmet back on before going to find the Mandalorian. You didn't know what to do except find him, so that's what you would do. You didn't have to walk far before you found the crashed ship. You picked up the pace as you called for the Mandalorian. You entered the burning ship and found Mando unconscious in the cock pit. You shook his shoulder until he finally came woke.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"I'm fine," you lied.

"And the kid?" he pressed.

"I don't know," you answered. You both quickly descended the ladder and opened the door to the sleeping pod. The child sat on the bed completely unharmed. You breathed a sigh of relief. You felt as if the kid was your own. You didn't know what you'd do if something happened to him.

"Any sign of the Empire?" Mando questioned.

"None," you replied. "But there's no sign of getting off this planet either. We really messed up."

"There has to be some kind of lifeform on this planet," he insisted.

"I saw the planet. It's all snow and ice. You'd have to be crazy to live here."

"We have to try anyway." He grabbed a blanket off the bed and wrapped the child in it. You all left the ship and stepped onto the freezing planet. Your hopes of finding a way off were low to non-existent, but you followed Mando. He'd find a way.

The longer you walked, the dizzier you felt. Your head hadn't stopped throbbing and you were finding it hard to focus. Whatever you had done to your head was slowly chipping away at you. Your legs felt weak, and it wasn't long before they gave out on you. You crumpled into the snow.

"Y/N!" Mando called. You couldn't register his voice. Where he was. What was happening. The fact that he had used your name though you never gave it to him. It was all just a fleeting thought that was drowned out in the pain. He held you in his arms as he tried to keep you conscious. You felt his hands at the sides of your helmet and you quickly held them away.

"It's against the code," you groaned.

He looked at his hand which was covered in blood from your helmet. "You're bleeding! I have to take it off to help!"

"No!" you insisted. "You can't see my face. You know that."

"I'd rather you live with the shame then die here in the snow!"

"I can't," you breathed. "I've never taken it off in front of anyone." He stopped and looked at you hopelessly.

"It's ok," you said. "Find a way off the planet and take care of the kid." The Mandalorian carefully propped you up in the snow then slightly stepped back. Before you could say anything, or even think of what was happening. He removed his helmet and dropped it at his feet. His brown hair blew wildly in the wind as he bent down to you.

"You..." you barely whispered.

"I'm helping you even if that means breaking the code, but we'll be breaking it together," he said. You felt him lifting the helmet off your head, but you didn't stop him. He placed your helmet next to his in the snow and gently moved your hair aside. You didn't have the willpower to fight what was happening. You let him work as the world grew fuzzy around you. It all seemed surreal. Especially when the next thing you remembered was the child dropping to the ground in exhaustion.

The world was coming back into focus, and the throbbing pain in your skull subsided. You looked up to see your Mandalorian unmasked and holding his child. Your hand instinctively reached for the wound at the back of your head, but there was none.

"He healed you." It was strange to hear the Mandalorian's voice outside of the helmet. It was softer and more real. "I don't know how he does it, but it drains his energy. It was the only way to save you.

You stood slowly, unable to take your eyes from the Mandalorian's. It was strange to think he was seeing your face just as you were seeing his. You thought you'd be more ashamed. After all you had broken one of the most important rules on Mandalore. You both had. But you didn't feel guilt like you had done something wrong. You felt what you could only identify as relief. Relief that you didn't have to hide behind your metal helmet in front of the one you cared so deeply for.

Mando picked up both the helmets, handing yours to you. "We should get moving." You stared into yours, not wanting to put it back on. You grudgingly did, and Mando followed. You both took moment to stare at each others expressionless helmets, then continued through the ice and snow.

When you finally find people, you recognized them as a rebels. There weren't many that were aware of the Empires presence and even fewer would fight. They wouldn't harm you. They brought you into a cave that was partially lined with metal and cement. They hadn't been there long. They were hesitant to let you in at first, but when they saw the child laying unconscious in Mando's arms, they obliged. They took the kid to care for him, and you could tell Mando was tense. You placed your hand on his shoulder and he turned to you.

"He's going to be fine," you comforted. He remained silent. "You...said my name. Back in the snow. Unless I was hallucinating--"

"You weren't" he confirmed. "I saw it on our first trip to that kriffing dwarf planet. I never meant to get used to saying it in my head. I'm sorry."

You shrugged. "I don't think you knowing it puts me in danger."

He took a deep breath. "My real name is Din Djarin."

"You didn't have to tell me--"

"From now on, we do things together or not at all. Deal?"

You desperately wished he could see you smile. "Deal."

***

A week passed on the planet you came to know as Hoth. You needed time to recover and so did the kid. The rebels were working on a way to get you off the planet, and the Mandalorian spent most of his time working to help them with that. He was getting more frustrated every day. You wanted to help him. Tell him they'd find a way soon, but the only option they had was another week of waiting until a ship flew in for supplies.

It was late at night when he came to you. He was broken down and stressed, but he would never tell you so. He hardly said a word to you during the whole week. But now here he was.

He walked over to you slowly and stopped. "I can't find a faster way off this planet," he said, his voice laced with defeat.

"It's alright," you assured him. "What matters is that we will get off. Eventually."

"Eventually," he repeated. "Eventually isn't good enough."

"We're alright here," you soothed. "Nothing's going to happen to the kid here."

"They have trackers," he pointed out. "They'll find him if we don't move--"

"Din," you said, using his name for the first time since he told it to you. You stepped closer so he was only a few inches apart from you. You removed his helmet without any objections from him and set it aside. You did the same to your helmet. You needed to talk to him face to face.

"No one is going to get the kid because we're protecting him," you said. "We protect him together." Din smiled, wrapped his arms around your waist, and pulled you closer to him. Your arms rested around his neck as your lips touched. A kiss was something a Mandalorian could never know. But you both disregarded the rules just so you could know each other's touch not  through a casing of metal. And you did it together.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Friday 21 February 1834

6 ¾

1 25

very fine morning F48° at 7 ¾ in blue room and 46° at the same hour in my study - out at 7 55 for ½ hour then breakfast with my father in ½ hour - out again - backwards and forwards with Pickels cutting down the embankment at the entrance gate for the carts to shoot down soil and rubbish to raise with at the ft. of the road wall - then set Pickels to slope down and tidy the ground near the upper garden door - Charles and James H- finishing the railing there - Mallinson hewing and 1 man pulling down as yesterday the wall that hid the water closets - came in about 11 - saw my aunt - read the 1st 18 pages Fairholme Scripture geology had ½ hour’s nap - out again for about an hour - then came back to my study at 1 ¼ - read forward to p.70 Fairholme - and for about an hour (till 3) had Green about Whiskam road - said I hoped to have a toll house up by the 1st of May, and thought of 3d. or more on single cars (with stone or coal per time) and 6d. 2 horse cart and 9d. 3 horse ditto - but ended with saying that he might take his empty carts up and the few loads of tillage he talked of up for nothing till the toll house was up - he asked about the Northgate land - and my making a street crosswise up the land - no! said I was at present determined against it - but would take £800 for Northgate house and the 6.1.8 belonging to it, i.e. 19814 ½ yards at 8 shillings 3 farthings and 11982/19814 of a farthing per yard giving the house in - I said it would not be 9/. a yard - oh! said he that is too much - but begged me to give him time to view the property and consider of it - said that if he offered me the money now, I could not take it, as, tho’ not bound I had a likelihood of selling and should not sell till I heard what the person I alluded to had to say - I said I did not bind myself to say that if £8000 was not given now, I would take if afterwards - But said I would not sell the property till I heard from him again - he asked about the stone in Joseph Hall’s land - said it was not on sale, but I had had several applicants and said only yesterday I should not think of selling under 10/. a yard - he said it must be good stone to be worth that - I said I was indifferent about selling; but if the stone was really wanted, I would put it into the market - he said I had best make a hole so as to shew it - I said very well - I was going from home and should not be back till next Monday week but would then write to Mr. Freeman and if he did not give my price I would get down to the stone and put it up by ticket, leaving myself the option of taking the bidder I liked best - then said he I may have an answer in a month - yes! said I, I shall hear from Mr. Freeman soon after my return and then I will let you know what is to be done - he thought there might be some stone worth getting in George Naylor’s land - he said he would have given £8000 for the Northgate property, if I would let the sheep croft go with it - no! said I, I must have £2000 for that ie 3347 yards at 11s.11 ¼d. + 2169/3347 of a farthing    But 3347 yards at 8s/. 3/4d. (price for Northgate - line 13 above) = £1349.5.2 ¼ and Greenwood has bid me £1500 for it or 8/11 ½ + 790/3347 of a farthing per yard - Mr. Green has just sold some land above Gibbet Lane at 4/. a yard to build a Roman catholic chapel on - he says, my 2 fields, will be valuable n°74+75 = 4D.W.0q.rs5p but on hearing they were above the towns’ reservoir, he said that made a difference - made the calculations and wrote the above of today and out at 4 - Mr. Sunderland came soon after - came in with him and saw my aunt’s leg dressed - the wound not looking so well as I have always seen it before - blackish and rather sloughing, but not alarming so - out again till 6 ¼ - Charles and James H- railing behind the barn - very benumbed with cold, so stood talking over the fire to my father and Marian above ½ hour -  Dinner at 7 5 – coffee –Marian came about 7 ½ and staid talking till 9 - then an hour with my aunt - Letter tonight 3 pages and 1st p. crossed from Miss Walker Heworth Grange York – impatient to see me – the fortnight (next Wednesday) seems an age – begs I will not pull off going later than Wednesday – she seems to have been pleased with my ‘affectionate letter’   ‘ do come quickly for I am getting dull and I want you in a thousand ways’    I see she will be fond of me by and by  if she will bind herself so that I can have confidence I hope and think we shall get on together happily – came to my study at 10 10 and wrote the last 8 ½ lines - wrote 3 pages and few lines under the seal  to ‘Miss Walker Dr. Belcombe’s York’ to go early in the morning – directed to Dr. B’s that she may get it tomorrow night instead of Sunday - say I shall dine with her on Tuesday at 6 and not keep dinner waiting – be off from here not earlier than 11 ½ am but she not to be engaged after 5 - I may perhaps arrive not much later than that – nothing can be better than her letter to James - right about the note to Messrs. B- and sons  and about determining not to go into mourning – say the blackberry syrup had done my cough a great deal of good – I take it the last thing at night - ‘Is it the sweet juice, or the thought of her who gave it that has the healing power? God bless you! I feel as I should not disappoint you much in anything. Goodnight! Ever faithfully and affectionately yours AL.’ A very kind letter without one word to commit me  the above passage the most tender. wrote the last ten lines till 11 - fine day tho’ a drop or 2 of flying rain late in the afternoon - F48° at 1 10 tonight.