#not only is there gonna be another episode in this season but there’s gonna be ANOTHER SEASON

[hms-no-fun]

How have your thoughts on Doctor Who evolved in the past few years?

last year i did a video about the 60th anniversary specials that featured the return of david tennant and catherine tate, and why they signaled a new era of prosperity for doctor who. i think a lot of people would say that video has aged like milk in the wake ncuti gatwa's "season one," but i really disagree. the only thing doctor who fans love more than dying on the hill of whatever era of the show they watched the last time their life didn't suck is complaining about the current era for not already being something they're nostalgic for.

"nuwho 2" or "rtd2" or whatever you want to call it, the post Timeless Child era, is definitely different in a lot of ways that aren't always good. "season one" is sloppy with scripts that feel manically first-draft. its biggest weakness is simply that there are only eight episodes, and two of them are devoted to a season finale that is, like most rtd finales past, half brilliant, a quarter huh?, and a quarter hot garbage. i don't like how ncuti said goodbye to millie at the end, it felt like a weird reversion to a prior iteration of the doctor who hadn't spent so many years living a normal life as the kooky uncle of the noble family. the devil's chord in particular feels like an episode that desperately wanted further iteration, perhaps in an actual writer's room with a real musician who might come up with something a bit more interesting to do with those beatles.

and yet, the devil's chord fucking rules because jinkx monsoon is a force of nature! that's the thing about "season one," it's a mess in a lot of ways and yet even still it's delicious. space babies is hilarious. imagine opening your season on a bunch of talking babies hounded by a literal booger monster! as silly as that concept is it still plays very earnestly with the themes of the season. it's sort of a filter, in a way; if you thought we were gonna make doctor who Respectable, you've got another thing coming buster. frankly, with the exception of the finale (and really only the second part of the finale IMO) there's not a single stinker in the bunch! boom is phenomenal. rogue is delightful gay indulgence. dot and bubble is crazy audacious. 73 yards is just perfect, easily the best "the doctor isn't in this one" episode since blink and one of the wildest genre swings the series has ever taken. any of those three episodes could land on a top 20 list and i wouldn't bat an eye. if you don't love ncuti gatwa and millie gibson then you are entirely out of your mind.

the biggest shame really is that there isn't more. the season is stacked with Big Weighty Dramatic Ones, and i love those, but i would've liked to see two or three silly ones in there too. only two scripts weren't written by rusty, and all critical evaluations aside i just don't think that's a great way to set the series up to live on under new leadership after you inevitably depart again.

but i also believe with all my heart and soul that these flawed qualities, whether or not they were literally intentional, are 100% literally intentional. the single worst thing that "season one" could have been was a perfect season of television. no, i'm serious! the broad point of my video, which i felt was tremendously vindicated by "season one," is that rusty's return was fundamentally about saving the show spiritually from the doldrums of the chibnall era. that's a much bigger and more complicated task than just doing good tv! if rusty just committed to doing three seasons of what everyone already expected from him and then bounced, he'd be leaving the show in more or less the same state as it was before he came back. what really elevates this era so far is how deliberately it's expanding the thematic and genre spaces that the show typically plays in. it's respectfully yes-anding the chibnall era in a way that rescues it, it gives us a lot of fan service but it also breaks from those expectations quite often. and the fact that it's such a mess inevitably leads any thoughtful viewer to a single conclusion: i bet somebody else could do better.

and that's what rusty wants! or, anyway, that's what is healthiest for doctor who in the long term. if this franchise cannot escape the shadow of The Greats, it's destined to become just another IP for the soulless slop machine. what i love about rusty's era so far is that it's bad in a lot of the same ways his first stint on the show was bad, but that we've kinda memoryholed because time has passed and so much of it isn't bad. by coming back and working in exactly the same mode as before, rusty denies us the satisfaction of perfect nostalgia and invites us to be more critical of his work both past and present. and oh hey, wouldn't you know it, "season two" has way more writers! there's a whole spinoff show coming later this year that i've seen some folks theorize is a sort of audition for the part of future dw showrunner! and that's to say nothing of the astonishing effects work done by the team at bad wolf studios, which has deliberately invested in cultivating expert production talent local to the area and whose skills are always being highlighted in the excellent behind the scenes series doctor who unleashed.

in short, i think it's wonderful that "season one" was profoundly imperfect because it means doctor who has room to grow. i'm excited to see newer younger people become prominent creative voices in this franchise, it's the sort of deliberate talent cultivation that basically every comparable american enterprise wholly lacks. idk i love it

[dragon-susceptible]

Me eyeing some of the content of the next side fic like ah, yeah, chokehold . . .

I will not let you down

Yeah, that'd be Callisto and Andromeda . . . and Ram, arguably, but that burn's really not that bad. I don't think I did anything to Runaan except the binding.

Oh gods but could Katolis survive Ellis

Yes lol

She's just an illusionist, she's not even a cool mage like Ethari. she just does Runaan's little disguises on steroids.

It's fine. I've never been scarred by a burn so I count it as a win.

Ikr, everything fell apart and they lost everything but what they were carrying in a matter of minutes, and then suddenly had it all handed right back to them minutes later. It was a lot to deal with!

Pretty much yeah lmao Callum is very . . . 14

Excellent and yes! This was my exact thought process! This is why they went to help her only after she had ahold of the egg again and was trying to stumble back.

Runaan, Skor, and Callisto are all trained healers and would have the basics of midwifery at the very least. Andromeda and Ram might too, it seems in-character for her, Idk about him.

Yes, they got it lol. I can't remember what I decided it was. Something from the Uncharted Forest. They were on their way home when Tiadrin went into labour at least.

I just noticed your spellings are creeping back into my writing. I spent all of last year writing with British spellings because I was writing in the Call of Duty fandom with a Brit and a Scot as my main characters, so it was pretty close to the surface anyways. How long have I been doing this? Has it gotten into the fic yet? I try to keep it consistent within a work at least.

SAME. I want so many explanations for what's going on with Ezran, and especially Ezran and Zym. What is this quasi-telepathic bond they've got going on?

Seven!!

Runaan does keep getting tapped in the Special Interest and doing the autism lore dump by Callum, who's eating it up because he shares the special interest.

All excellent questions! I have not decided yet! I don't really think there's a reason for Ethari to send another shadowhawk if this one already is there to tell the Queen Zym's alive though.

Basically, yes! Also I didn't want to deal with trying to write like, the real medical implications of what just happened to them.

I think a lot of it's shock. They're just relieved and staring at the baby dragon and processing that because it's easier than dealing with what they just had to face. It'll be a rough night for them.

Could have sworn that scene they also mentioned it had been a week already at the Moon Nexus. Neat! Yeah they'll probably mention it within two or three days though, as Skor gets back on his feet.

Oh my god I'm so sorry lmao, I should have realized how that sounded when I wrote it. But no, not finish the narrative! Just make several fics in a series instead of putting it all in this one. But yeah, Season 2 didn't have nearly as much going on, most of the major plots in it took more than one episode but less in-universe time. This fic is already novel-length, it's gonna be a monster by the time I'm done lmao

Different Path Taken Ch21 P2-P3: Wonderstorm

Okay so this chapter may end up being Real Damn Long. These sections together are nearly 4k words, but the first section is just over 2k. Oh well. It's adapting the season finale, what was I supposed to do with it?

They did in fact reach the hollow tree well before dawn.  Andromeda had been eyeing the way the children were walking for a while now, noticing how Ezran’s eyes were dull and tired and his steps were heavy.  He needed to be carried over the gaps that required jumping, and Skor and Callisto traded off when Skor fumbled a landing.  His twisted ankle was clearly still bothering him.  Even Callum’s enthusiasm for learning about the history of the mountain seemed to be waning as the night wore on.

When they reached the shelter and Ellis and Ava dived into it, the girl whooped happily. “This is it!  This is where we were hiding!  Look look look!”

As the boys and Rayla followed her in, Andromeda stopped Runaan with a touch on his elbow.  He looked down at her with a brow raised to prompt her. “We should stop to rest,” She said softly. “The children are exhausted, Runaan.  They aren’t used to this sort of travel, and the hike was difficult for them.  They need time to recover - and if I’m being honest, so do I.” It felt as though stone weights were attached to her bones as she moved and her hand was still annoyingly cold. 

Runaan looked from her to the hollow tree, where Ezran had already collapsed into a heap on the ground and looked half-asleep, and Callum wasn’t far behind.  He sighed a bit through his nose but nodded. “Very well.” He said just as softly, and then raised his voice to the others. “Take a few moments to rest in the shelter.”

“Don’t we have to get the egg to the top as soon as possible?” Callum asked worriedly. 

“Traveling harder now will do us no good if half of us collapse before we reach our destination,” Andromeda replied for him, and carefully slumped down into a seat just inside the hollow too, closing her eyes briefly with relief as she finally was able to relax her muscles. 

The inside of the tree was quite broad, and they all could have taken shelter within it, but within minutes a light drew their attention from outside.  Andromeda heaved herself back up to investigate as the children followed her, looking up at the sky.  Moonlight seemed to coalesce into something as bright as day as a large bird descended from the glow of the moon.  When it landed, a tall elven woman in a mage’s robes dismounted from its back to survey them all. 

Andromeda glanced at the other elves to see their reactions, as her own heart pounded in her chest at greeting such a powerful figure in their cultural history.  Ram’s eyes were wide and his hands were clasped into a circle, practically vibrating in his skin.  Callisto’s face was smooth and blank and they leaned on their glaive, but their head was slightly lowered with respect and their eyes were bright and interested.  Skor looked vaguely disinterested and maybe a bit uncomfortable, standing a step behind Callisto, and Rayla looked distinctly unimpressed.  Runaan stepped forward with his hands clasped into a ball in front of his chest, a familiar but old Moonshadow gesture of respect, and bowed slightly to the woman.

“By the Moon’s guidance, Archmage.” He greeted, formally. “For those who have not been here before, this is the Guardian of the Moon Nexus, Archmage Lujanne, one of the most accomplished mages ever produced by Moonshadow Forest.”

The Guardian’s curious expression broke into an amused smile and she chuckled openly. “Ah, I remember you.” She said with a teasing tone. “Still quite the charmer, aren’t you, Runaan?”

Andromeda blinked with surprise as Runaan sighed with exasperation, a smile tugging at his lips. “And still quite married, thank you, Lujanne.”

The Guardian laughed. “Well, you can’t blame a girl for being curious!  And don’t think I’ve forgotten you, either, young man.” She nodded around Callisto’s shoulder at Skor, who winced slightly.

“Even if I wasn’t, you would have more luck with . . . any of the other adults.” Runaan said dryly. 

Lujanne chuckled again but his mention of adults seemed to remind her that there were children present as well, and she looked over at them curiously.  She smiled kindly at them. “I suppose my ruse with the little wolf’s leg has been exposed.”

Runaan coughed politely. “It seemed pertinent.”

She gave him another look and walked over to pet the large wolf.  She didn’t even have to bend down to scratch behind her ears. “I remember you hiding in the tree with that little cub, both so frightened and sad.” She reflected aloud. “I saw she had lost her leg, and I understood that humans would have trouble accepting her.  But I knew her spirit was strong, and that was all that really mattered.”

This kindness was so . . . almost foreign.  Altruism was uncommon among their people, at least to strangers, and especially to humans, and Andromeda’s heart suddenly ached sharply realizing how much they had rejected in the name of self-defense.  How far had they gone to protect themselves?  At what point did their violence and coldness cross the line from self-defense?

“To help you, I created an illusion - a leg that others would see and feel even though it wasn’t real.  I enchanted the moonstone collar to hold the spell.  She never needed that fourth leg to be happy.  Everyone else did.” Lujanne said proudly, removing the collar.  The wolf’s fourth leg vanished in a burst of golden light. 

Runaan cleared his throat. “Ava is also steadied by the solidity of the leg.  Given the girl uses her as a mount, I would argue she very much does need it to function in that capacity.”

Lujanne huffed at him. “Must you ruin my mystery?”

He rolled his eyes.

“I came up to help them find the miracle healer!  But then Runaan said it was just you.” Ellis said brightly. “Thank you for saving my Ava, however you did it.”

Lujanne chuckled warmly but she looked up at the rest of them with a concerned frown. “But you all came here looking for a healer?” She asked, her eyes lingering on Andromeda and Callisto’s wounded arms and the way Skor was leaning his weight away from one leg, Ram’s tattered glove and the deep bruising up Runaan’s bicep.  Even Rayla’s arm was dangerously bruised at this point. 

“We needed greater wisdom than we could find elsewhere, at least,” Ram said anxiously, gesturing to Ezran.

The boy pulled his backpack off his shoulders and presented it to Lujanne. “The help we need is real.  An illusion won’t help us.” He said, and opened the flap to reveal the dangerously dim dragon egg. 

Lujanne gasped. 

“It’s the egg of the dragon prince,” Andromeda explained without taking a moment to think. “It was stolen, not destroyed.”

“We saved it,” Rayla added, gesturing to herself and the princes. “Or, we were tryin’ t’ save it and return it to its mother, but there was a terrible accident, and-”

The guardian put a hand up in a stopping motion, and Rayla stopped, and Andromeda swallowed her own support as well, edging closer to look too at where the mage was examining the egg.  She touched it briefly and shook her head. “Its life is fading quickly.  The only chance of saving it now would be to hatch it.”

“How do we do that?” Callum asked urgently.

“Sky dragons can only be hatched in the eye of a storm,” The Guardian explained, and Andromeda’s heart plummeted to her feet. “And the weather is clear for miles.” 

“No.  That can’t be.  There has to be a way to save it.” Ezran insisted.

The light in the egg faded darker even as they spoke and Andromeda’s eyes burned, a lump forming in her throat.  She stepped over to Rayla as the girl’s eyes welled up and she shook her head with a silent snarl. “I dropped it,” Rayla growled. “This is all my fault.”

“Rayla . . .” Runaan began, and as Andromeda hugged her friend, he brushed his hand over her shoulders as well. “It was an accident, darling.”

“I let you all down.  I let the world down.” Rayla’s shoulders shook as she came close to sobbing. 

“You tried, Rayla.” Ezran insisted, even as his wide eyes welled up with tears as well. “You’re so good, and brave.” He hugged her too, and Rayla wrapped her arms around whoever she could reach and finally gave in to the sobs, dropping to her knees.  Andromeda let her go, stepping back to give Runaan room to gather his daughter and the child into a reassuring hug.  

Callisto’s glaive was dismantled and back in its sheaths, and their good hand was clenched tightly in Skor’s.  They both looked fragile at best, and tears were leaking from Skor’s eyes while Callisto still seemed frozen in a moment of fear.  Ram, though, Ram was trembling visibly with his hand clasped over his mouth. 

“We can’t go home,” He rasped when she looked at him, and he met her gaze. “If anyone finds out what we tried - and failed -”

The very air seemed to turn crushing as Andromeda realized he was right.  As long as they vanished, it could be assumed they were captured or somehow prevented from completing their mission.  If it was found that they had abandoned it, tried to bring home the dragon prince but in fact caused his death, Moonshadow Forest was doomed.  Their families - she would never see Elyrin again.  She could never go home, she couldn’t even be Ghosted, she would lose her husband, every plan they had made to have a family after this mission was over -

She’d only come on this damned mission because Runaan asked her to, requested she take just this one more before retiring to be a mother, because he needed her skills.  It had been selfish, he had wanted her because he knew she’d be one of the best to keep Rayla safe if the girl lost her nerve.  And now they were all doomed.  She couldn’t even be that angry at him, knowing she would have done the same in his position, knowing he was losing his own husband and chance at a future family too from this. 

Ram’s touch startled her but when she looked and met his eyes again his face crumpled with sympathy, and she gave in and hugged him tight.  Ram burrowed into her shoulder, trembling. “My father’s alone,” he choked into her coat. “I’m leaving him alone, Andromeda, I -”

“I know,” She hugged him tighter and squeezed her eyes shut as her tears burned tracks down her face. 

“I know what I have to do,” Callum’s voice was shockingly strong from beside them and while she couldn’t quite let go, she loosened her grip enough to look at him in her startled reaction.  Ram looked too, staying bent to be under her sight line.

The human was brandishing his Primal Stone like a weapon.  Andromeda didn’t really understand what he was doing. 

“Callum-” Runaan started, reaching one arm towards him around Rayla and Ezran.

It didn’t slow the boy down.  He raised the Primal Stone up and then dashed it upon the ground.  Andromeda flinched instinctively, the flash of light too intense to look at, as if lightning struck the ground where the stone shattered.  Wind whipped around them and thunder roared in her ears and she clutched Ram tighter, doing her best to keep her footing as they were suddenly blasted with winds so high they stole her breath. 

“What the hell did he do?” Ram was almost drowned out in the sudden burst of sound, even from right beside her, as lightning seemed to strike again towards the sky, and a violent storm built abruptly around them.

“No!” Ezran cried in the distance and Andromeda squinted through the wind.

The egg was rolling towards the cliff.  Rayla broke free of Runaan’s protective grasp and bolted for it on unsteady feet.  Even Andromeda hardly dared to rush in this weather. “Rayla!” Runaan called after her with real fear in his voice, but with Ezran holding onto him for balance he didn’t follow her. 

Andromeda started after them instead and Ram pulled her back down to kneel. “Someone needs to help her!” She snapped.

“No one else needs to fall off a cliff because she decided to be a hero!” Ram retorted. “More hands will only crowd the egg if she catches up to it anyway, it won’t help anyone catch it!”

Andromeda snarled at him but couldn’t fight free of his grip nor truly contest his logic, except that more hands meant more attempts to get to it or to help Rayla once she caught it.  Skor and Callisto and the Guardian were closer to them anyway.  When she looked, Rayla was actively running, and the egg toppled over the edge of the cliff.

Instead of stumbling after it, luckily, Rayla threw herself forward and swept the egg back towards her chest with her arm.  She fell onto her back with it clutched to her body and stayed there for a moment, chest visibly heaving even from a distance.

After a minute she rolled onto her knees and then her feet, staying low to the ground as she tried to push against the wind back towards the safety of the tree.  Skor and Callisto both moved to help her, but Skor’s weak ankle failed him and he ended up on his own knees out of reach.  Callisto batted a branch from the air with their glaive before it could strike Rayla, and folded it up to catch her shoulder and steady her once she got in reach.  Andromeda pushed Ram away, and this time he let go, both of them moving to support the girl now that she had the egg in hand and their course was clear.  Runaan passed Ezran’s support over to Callum and followed suit.

The five of them formed a windbreak around Rayla as best they could, Andromeda wincing as smaller sticks and stones blown by the wind struck her.  Runaan folded Rayla into his arms, the egg tucked safely between them as the rest of the assassins blocked them in.  Andromeda felt an unfamiliar hand and looked up to see Corvus had joined them as well in their efforts to shield the two young lives upon which the fate of the world rested.

It took several of them to keep Rayla from flying into the air as the wind began to pull them upwards.  Andromeda held onto whoever was in reach, helping to weigh her down, feeling the tug even under her own feet.  It crossed her mind to wonder what was their plan if anything else came up.  What happened next?

The wind abruptly began to die down, though the noise did not.  A circle formed around them with dust and debris still flew just as violently, but the center was relatively calm.  The eye of the storm.

The Guardian stood up from where her phoenix had been sheltering her, her hands folded in front of her in a prayer.  Lightning sparked through the wind and clouds entrapping them, and Rayla pulled away from Runaan enough for them all to see it spark across the shell of the egg as well.  The energy arced from the walls of wind to the egg, between them, and it seemed everyone had the thought at the same time as the elves all parted around Rayla.  Corvus moved half a beat later than the rest, pushed back by Runaan’s arm across his chest, but he went without trouble, and Rayla carefully placed the egg on the ground.

The lightning continued to pick up, striking the egg and crackling over its surface again and again.  Andromeda’s breath felt caught in her throat.  Was it working?  Was this what this was supposed to look like?

The egg righted itself without a touch, and light flashed around it in a rainbow.  The glow became more and more intense until it was blinding and Andromeda ducked away from it.  Lightning roared across its surface. 

All at once the wind and lightning seemed to dissipate, the glow fading from behind her eyelids.  A thud sounded as the egg once again hit the stone.  Andromeda didn’t dare open her eyes for a moment, and the tension in the air was palpable.  She held her breath. 

Ezran gasped in delight and she finally opened her eyes.

A crack had formed across the egg’s surface.

Another crack followed, and a bit of the shell fell away to reveal scales surrounding a closed dragon eye.  The rest of the shell broke free in larger sections as the little dragon stretched up for the first time, pawed with no coordination at its surroundings, and tumbled out of the basket formed by what was once an egg. 

Runaan was moving almost before anyone else recovered from the sight, producing a rag and waterskin from his pockets.  Andromeda couldn’t for the life of her figure out what those were for until Ezran cried, “His eyes are stuck.  He needs help!  Bait-”

“There’s no need for that,” Runaan chuckled, though his eyes were wide and his tone almost in awe, wetting the rag and warming it in his palm as he reached for the little dragon.  Rayla moved to help without prompting, helping the dragonlet sit up as he wiped gently at his eyes. “This little one isn’t the first I’ve seen into the world.” He glanced up at Rayla as he said it, though the girl’s focus was entirely on the dragon in their arms.

Andromeda wondered if Rayla knew she was the first one.  Runaan told the story often enough that it was common knowledge, but he rarely bothered to specify that Rayla’s birth was the first he had been a midwife for alone.

The dragonlet chirred curiously as he opened bright blue eyes.  He made grateful noises at the elves holding him, but looked around Runaan’s side at Ezran.  The young king was already kneeling nearby, and opened his arms.  Wriggling free of Runaan and Rayla, the dragonlet bounced over to him with his little wings flapping limply at his sides, and licked the boy’s face happily. 

“You know your own name!  Azymondias!” Ezran said brightly, and rested his forehead against the young dragon’s.

Azymondias.  A bond was being formed before their very eyes, and Andromeda felt as though the very air hummed with it.  This was no longer just a desperate quest to return something that was lost.  These two young kings held the future of the world in their hands and claws, and they were bound and determined - by something more than just will - to face it together.

“We’ll call you Zym.” Ezran said, abruptly reminding her that for all they were kings, for all they were changing the world simply by showing each other this brotherhood, they were still also just little boys.  Tears burned her eyes for an entirely different reason and she found herself with her hand over her own mouth now.

“That’s Rayla,” Ezran said helpfully, pointing at her, and the little dragon squeaked happily, tongue lolling out of his little mouth. “You almost blew off the mountain, but Rayla saved you!  And then all the others saved her too.  That’s her dad, Runaan.”

As he talked, Zym bounded back over to Rayla, stumbling as he got there, and Rayla gasped when he fell.  Thankfully, the little dragon just beamed up at her and licked her bruised hand. 

“Aww, it’s okay, little one.” Rayla said kindly, scratching under Zym’s chin. “The important thing is you.  One miracle is enough for me today.”

Nonetheless, the dragonlet bit the binding on her hand.  Andromeda gasped, all the warnings about never trying to break the binding screeching to the forefront of her mind.  She couldn’t understand why Runaan just knelt there and let it happen, eyes fixed upon the little dragon.

The binding slipped right off as though it weren’t magical, and Rayla remained upright, blinking down at her unbound hand.  Something loosened around Andromeda’s wrist, and her heart suddenly pounded as she looked down, her own binding falling off, still silver.  She looked around suddenly and found Skor and Ram both grasping their falling bindings, and Runaan’s coming off in his good hand as he smiled.  Callisto’s eyes were wide but their bound arm was the one tucked into their sling, so she couldn’t see theirs, but -

“How is this possible?” Ram asked in disbelief.

“Dragon Prince Azymondias is the subject of the spell that bound us,” Runaan replied, awe lacing his tone. “He was the only one capable of releasing us.  Since our subjects are usually dead - we thought he was dead - it’s never come up before.”

“But you knew?” Andromeda asked, suddenly understanding why he hadn’t moved to stop the little dragon.

Runaan nodded. “Until he hatched, it wasn’t possible - there was no hope to be shared.  But now . . .”

“You should send the shadowhawk.” Skor said roughly, wincing, and when they all looked at him he tucked his binding into his pocket and signed the rest. “The dragon queen will know as well as you did what the released bindings mean.  Send them all back to tell her the king is dead and the prince is alive.”

Rayla rubbed her wrist, laughing with disbelief as she looked down at it, and Andromeda certainly sympathized.  As blood rushed back to her hand it was so warm it almost burned, and she clenched and unclenched it experimentally.  She nuzzled into the little dragon. 

“Thank you.”

“It can wait,” Runaan said, softer, to Skor, and returned his attention to his daughter.  Andromeda looked over at Ram, finding him fully seated on the ground in shock, rubbing feeling back into his hand.  She sat down beside him as relief suddenly flooded her, realizing they were talking about communicating with home.

They could go home after all.

Skor spotted the pink glow across the sky before Ezran pointed it out, and something dark and cold settled in the pit of his stomach.  It settled all around them, the little pink lights dancing around like the ghosts of fireflies.

Even as Callum remarked, “It’s beautiful.” Skor wondered if that was what they were.

“They’re gentle!” Rayla said, tickling one with her fingers. “They even tickle a little.” She was beaming, soft and vulnerable now that they’d had a little time to recover from the shock of their bindings falling, and the dragonlet that now played in their midst. 

The glow toad tried and failed to eat one.  Skor looked at the other elves.  Andromeda was preoccupied smiling at the children.  Callisto had busied themself with finally pulling the binding out of their sling, and seemed not to have noticed the lights yet.  Ram was frowning at them though, and Runaan had stood up.

Skor followed his gaze to where the Guardian stood on the cliffside.  The three of them looked across the path of the pink light through the sky, where it remained illuminated, reaching for a source on another mountain peak days’ travel away.  Lujanne looked back at them, her lips pursed, and Runaan’s ears bent back with concern as his jaw visibly tightened.  Skor bit his tongue. 

It would take days for whoever was tracking them to reach this place.  As he exchanged a glance with Runaan, he understood the look his friend sent towards the children.  They would give the little dragon a few days to find his feet, and them all time to recover from their wounded hands.  While the remaining magic from their bindings would keep the damage from becoming permanent, their recovery would still take time.

Once they could move again, though, they would need to do so quickly.

[a-for-apocalypse]

reposting my youtube comment onto here bc its literally all i can think about. caitvi may have been affecting each other's lives for far longer than they know (they may have been saving each other for far longer than they've realized too).

I've seen a lot of good theories about where the timeline divergence came from (damn the arcane fandom is so big brained sometimes, good job y'all), but this one consistently rots my brain from the inside out bc my god. i will never get over the underlying tragedy of ep 7. how one small difference could have changed it all.

arcane really is a story of what ifs, each more painful to think about than the last.

[quibbs126]

Hang on, so the g2 comics had a storyline of Megatron and Optimus teaming up to fight Jhiaxus and his new second generation of Decepticons?

I’m pretty sure I’ve heard someone mention parts of this storyline before, at least with Jhiaxus, but that sounds cool as hell, let’s bring it back

[cactus-cactus-cactus]

Oh no why is the severance fandom annoying now

[br1ghtestlight]

dying on the cross for cheaty cheaty bang bang my favorite s13 episode and maybe one of my favorite bob's burgers episodes overall even though Nobody else likes it and it was a direct follow up to the highest rated episode of the show. its okay babygirl i got u

[mo-ok]

TWICE. LOST GALAXY HAS SHOWN AN UNSUITED GINGAMAN CHARACTER T W I C E. FIRST GOUKI AND NOW SHELINDA I AM LOSING MY MIND

[idontdrinkgatorade]

back to the glory days i guess (binged an entire season of anime today)

[fossuchi]

180+ episodes daiya rewatch in 4 days

thats what I call skill

[stars-n-kites]

youre really gonna have to bear with me on this one. but if the adventure zone balance was like a serialized tv show that ran for like 11 seasons and so had plenty of time to fuck around and do weird side plots and one off character study episodes i think there would be b plot to some episode or another where kravitz gets assigned to reap a ghost orchestra thats causing phantom of the opera style chaos at an old theater but realizes theyre only haunting the place because they want to play music again but dont have a conductor so he conducts a final performance for them and they are at peace having resolved their unfinished business and he gets to finally be a conductor . i just think that would be cool .

[unproduciblesmackdown]

knock on wood but already had the thought about how the potential What If winstuk of ostensible post-7x03/WDE could just be....boisterous. effulgent. vibrant.

[kuiperblog]

Where Star Wars went wrong

Quoting Jason Pargin, who articulates it better than I could:

"In any kind of a sane world, The Mandalorian should have run for 150 episodes at least. They had a formula here that could have worked forever.

"It's a formula that has always worked: a heroic stranger wanders into a strange new land and meets a bunch of colorful characters, usually under the thumb of a powerful threat. The threat is usually in the form of a villain who's played by a famous actor just chewing the scenery. He uses hits wits and his courage to get out of it and then he moves on.

"Have Gun, Will Travel" ran for 225 episodes from 1957-1963. It's where Gene Roddenberry of Star Trek fame got his start.

"The sci-fi space adventures we had years and years ago used to run forever. Star Trek TNG had about 180 episodes, Deep Space 9 had about the same number, even Voyager -- the show that we think of as being a "lesser series" -- had 172 episodes. And here's the thing: most of those episodes were really good!

"But because of the way the business works now, and because of 'corporate synergy,' by season 2 of the Mandalorian, they were brainstorming "how do we get this back to Luke Skywalker and the Death Star?"

"By season 3, fans were lost, because some huge plot events had occurred in a completely different series, because they needed it to connect to their Boba Fett show. And now, the Mandalorian is dead. They're gonna wrap up the story in a movie, and that's it.

And the crazy part is, this was always the perfect format for Star Wars: it always should have been a short form serial! That's what George Lucas was ripping off when he made the film back in 1977: serials like Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon.

These were little 12-minute long episodes that played as one continuing story, but each one was its own little lighthearted adventure that usually ended on some kind of a cliffhanger.

"This is why so many of the most hardcore Star Wars fans who are old like me only like two of the movies, because by the third film they were already just repeating beats: they were attacking yet another Death Star.

They ran out of ideas so fast, because this is not the ideal format for this universe. The Mando and Baby Yoda Show is the ideal format! This should have run for the next 20 years! They even set it up so that the star wouldn't even need to be on set for most of it, because he wears a helmet!

"I think some fans object to this, because they think of it as making Star Wars smaller, that you're reducing it to 'just a TV show.' But it's the exact opposite: it lets you expand the universe, because you're forced to to keep coming up with new places for him to go, and new people for him to meet, new villains for him to face -- you're not forced to just keep coming back to the Death Star again and again, and the Sith, and the Jedi.

In Episode VII: The Force Awakens, the Starkiller Base destroys five planets. That's mathematically five times more tragic than the destruction of Alderaan.

"And if you want evidence, just look at Star Trek! It's the show that expanded the universe. The Star Trek films were just action movies that are very forgettable. But I guess the world has changed, because they don't even do Star Trek that way anymore.

Picard ended its run after 30 episodes. Discovery concluded after 65. Hopefully, Strange New Worlds marks a return to form for the franchise.

"I don't get it, because it seems like a version of this show that runs until the year 2040 would have just printed money. The merchandise sales alone would have covered the production costs. Instead, it's 24 episodes and a movie that I think everyone has already stopped caring about."

[helloidkwhatimdoing-0]

Okay im going to sleep now but im having a lot of thoughts also so prepare for like a trillion tags on this one

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (2)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n : aaand I just couldn't let this storyline go. Typical. Best to read part one before this one :)

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader and Ewan have gotten a lot closer since the press tour for season two, but neither one has made a move. The reader is spotted with another costar, giving rise to rumours of romance.

The press tour came and went like a fever dream. From Paris to New York to London, everyone had been highly anticipating your upcoming show.

Albeit you had a minor role, it all seemed like everything you could ever wish for.

A blossoming career. Lifelong friends made from your peers. The overwhelming support from audiences.

Only two episodes have since been released to the public, and already your character has become a fan-favourite.

Sadly, you and Ewan only had that one press day together, after which you were paired with other cast members. That didn't stop the onslaught of comments under your interviews with him, fans stating how good you looked together. Speculating whether there was something going on between you two.

You are good friends, but that's all.

He calls you often, mostly in the evenings after you're both finished with work. He sticks close to you during premiere after-parties. Now and again, you would catch him looking at you from across the room.

But... well... that's all there is to that.

Maybe he's just being nice. Maybe he only sees you as a good friend, and this is just how he is. With his effortless charm and cheeky remarks that can be mistaken as flirting, you think that maybe you're reading too much into it all.

"Ewan likes you, you know," Phia looks at you over her shoulder, as she does her makeup in front of your dresser.

The cast is having a private get-together in Fabien's apartment for a night, and yourself and Phia decide to prep together, her own place only being five minutes away from yours.

"He's just being nice," you shake your head at her observation, as you sift through your closet looking for a top.

"He's not that nice to everyone," Phia laughs. "Trust me, that lad fancies you and it's plain as day. Ask anyone, I mean, Tom even pointed it out the other day."

"And Ewan was there with you guys?"

"Uh-huh," Phia swivels her chair around, all done, nodding at you, "Poor sod just about turned red as a beet."

"What did he say?" you ask, not even bothering to hide your curiosity. Phia's got your back, after all.

"Well..." Phia glanced away, weighing just how much she is at liberty to say. Ewan's her friend just as much as you are, and she doesn't know how deep she can meddle in this.

"How bad is it?"

"Nothing bad, promise," Phia walks over, then takes over the task of sorting through your closet, "He likes you. A lot. But it seems like he's apprehensive about jumping into a relationship right now."

You plop down on your bed in a huff, "I guess that makes sense."

"Chin up, darling," Phia turns around, arms folded behind her, concealing her chosen top for you. "You're both rising stars, with great careers ahead of you. If you're going to commit to each other, you're gonna have to do it right."

You smile, because you can't help it, the high from landing your dream career not yet subsiding.

"And," Phia continues, "even if he's too chicken to make a move, that doesn't mean you can't torture him with this." She grins, presenting a green satin top, the material weightless and shimmering.

"This? Are you sure?" It was definitely revealing, and it would have your back exposed, only tied together by two strings.

"Ewan loves green," she hands it to you, and you hold it up with concern etched in your features.

"I guess I could wear this," you mumble.

"Oh, you will wear it," Phia smirks, pushing you over to your bathroom so you can get changed.

Already wearing your trusty pair of bootcut jeans, you shimmy into the slinky top, calling out to Phia so she can assist with securing the strings at your back.

"You look absolutely gorgeous," she beams at you in your bathroom mirror. "Ewan is going to melt at the sight of you, doll."

"Huh," you say, checking yourself out in the reflection. "Okay then, I think we're ready - "

Your phone rings, cutting you off. Phia beats you to it, and her face is scandalous when she raises your phone up like it's precious evidence.

Ewan's name flashes bright on the screen.

"Oh, look who it is!" Phia practically sings, "Lover boy."

"Give me that," you demand, reaching for your phone, but Phia quickly sidesteps you and presses the screen to answer the call.

You gasp, and the both of you struggle to keep down an incoming fit of giggles. Phia then clicks on the speaker mode, and Ewan can be heard saying your name, his tone a bit confused.

"Are you there?" Ewan asks.

"Yeah, I'm here," you take the phone, waving to Phia so she doesn't make a fuss.

"Hmm," he says. "I hope I'll be seeing you tonight. The party won't be as good without you."

"Well, Phia and I just finished getting ready," you glance at her, and she makes a kissy face at you.

"Hello, Mr. Whipped," she playfully cuts in with this greeting, effectively letting Ewan know he's on speaker.

You hear Ewan snort on the other end, before he says, "Hello to you too, Phi."

"We should be heading out in 15 minutes, and we'll be there on time," you let him know.

"Okay, I suppose I'll see you guys there," he replies.

"Okay." A beat of silence passes, and Phia just shrugs at you.

"I, uh - " he finally speaks up again, but hesitates.

"Yeah?"

He clears his throat, having decided on saying, "Nevermind. See you soon, darling."

The line cuts off. You slowly let your hand fall to the side, sighing at how it abruptly ended. Shaking off your worries, you look at Phia once more, and she already has her line all prepared. "See you soon, darling," she recites in a low voice, imitating Ewan.

"Oh, shush," you shove her playfully, and she shoves you right back.

"I can't wait to see you, darling," she continues teasing you, laughing, and you can't help but blush and smile, finding her endearing.

"Well, let's go," she says, picking up her things, "your darling boy of Derby awaits."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Fabien greets you at the door with that perfect smile of his, arms outstretched to pull you and Phia into a hug.

"Welcome, welcome," he greets, leading you into his apartment, where most of the cast is already assembled, including Ewan.

You happily exchange pleasantries with everyone. Chatting with Emma and Olivia. Profusely thanking Matt when he gushes over your outfit. Catching up with Harry and Bethany. All the while sensing that Ewan watches you from somewhere in the room.

You're eventually directed by Tom to the corner table where Ewan and Phia share a loveseat, drinks in hand.

"I'll get you a drink," Tom kindly declares, heading to the kitchen.

"Thanks, Tom," you say. You sit next to Phia, leaving her between yourself and Ewan. You finally say to him, "Hey, you. How are you doing? Got here early?"

Ewan's jaw clenches and loosens, and you catch his eyes quickly drift down to rake over your figure. When he meets your eyes again, his pupils are considerably dilated.

The boy just shamelessly checked you out.

"Ewan," you hear Phia say, elbowing Ewan from beside him. "She just asked you a question, be polite." She wags her eyebrows at you, mouthing the words lover boy.

Ewan hears that, astute as he is, and it snaps him out of whatever haze he seemed to be stuck in.

He shakes his head at himself, offering a smile to you. "I got here just before you guys," he answers. His voice lowers when he adds, "You look really good, darling."

You smile in return. "Thanks. So do you."

Phia beams at the exchange, then makes some excuse of having to catch up with the others. The look she gives you before sliding off the seat reveals that she just wanted to give her two lovebirds some privacy.

"So," Ewan inches closer to you, his arm outstretched on the back of the seat, "how did the script turn out?"

"It was better than expected," you say. He refers to a script you told him about a week ago, for a potential project which will shoot in Atlanta in the fall. "I'm supposed to meet with the director pretty soon to discuss it further, but I think it might be the right fit."

"That's amazing," he expresses sincerely. "Rian Johnson's a brilliant director and they would be lucky to have you as their lead."

"Thanks, Ewan! Yeah, I'm really excited for it, it's a lot different from House of the Dragon, but I'm all in for the challenge, you know."

"Is it a drama film, or thriller, or - "

"Oh, it's a rom-com, actually."

"Oh," he nods, leaning back a little, like that needed a bit of processing. "And you'll have a romantic co-lead..."

"That's right, and - " you confirm.

He smirks, like he just thought of something amusing. "Well, maybe I could - "

But you finish your statement then, " - I think Jacob Elordi has just been selected as my partner in the film."

His face scrunches in apparent distaste, "Has he now?"

"Mhmm." You note the switches in his expression, how his face fell when you mentioned your upcoming co-star. He can't have something against Jacob; they already did a film together and it seemed like it went well on set.

That thing nags at you, that little spring of vanity and desire creating warmth in your stomach. That Ewan might be jealous.

Which is ridiculous, given your shared line of work. Besides, you were not together. What could he possibly be jealous over?

"You've worked with him, right? What's he like?" you continue the topic, keeping watch for the minutiae of his reactions.

"He's... he's a good actor, I guess. Dedicated and all that. Pleasant on set." His answer is curt, not giving away any details, tone flat like he's disinterested.

"Riiight," you nod slowly, smiling impishly at him to get him to lighten up, "I'm sure he'll be just as pleasant on our set then. Good to know."

He catches the look you're giving him, causing the corner of his lips to pull in a soft crooked smile. "Hmm, be that as it may... I think I'll do a much better job as your love interest, don't you?"

"Oh, will you now?" you lean forward, and he does the same.

"Yeah, didn't you hear?" he whispers conspiratorially, like there's a secret to be shared. "According to the internet, we have a lot of chemistry. Practically oozing with it, based on some comments I read."

"You've been lurking on comments? You? The last crusader against all social media?" you joke, fully knowing that he keeps a few shadow accounts just to keep up with how his work is being received by the public.

"Sure," he shrugs his shouders dramatically, " that, and also to stalk your page, of course."

"Oh, of course," you quip, "I wouldn't expect anything less."

You share another laugh, feeling light all over, and even lighter when his fingertips brush against your arm for a few seconds. Goosebumps erupt on your skin, and you sneakily rub your arms to cover the effect he had on you.

Tom reappears from the side, handing you a drink as promised, "What are you kids giggling about over here?"

"Nothing," you share, "just that Ewan is planning to join Instagram."

"A damn miracle, that!" Tom exclaims, lightly punching Ewan in the shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah," Ewan looks at you warmly, playing along, "you can be in charge of keeping my account running."

"Tough job. All those fan messages I'll have to answer."

"Yeah, you'll have to quit your day job," Tom adds jokingly. "It was fun while it lasted. The industry will miss you."

You feel a pressure by your shoulders, and notice that it's Ewan's arm snug behind you on the seat. In the midst of conversation, he must have drawn even closer. You glance down briefly and see his knees touching yours.

You nervously take a huge gulp of your drink. There is no hiding the effect he has on you now.

"Don't you two look cute?" Tom comments, then he stands right in front of the loveseat and puts his phone up. Before you can say anything, a clicking sound makes it clear that he has taken a photo of you and Ewan.

"Awww, I ship it," Tom gushes afterward as he looks at the photo. He then reaches over and passes his phone to you.

The image betrays what the both of you are probably struggling to hide - it's there, clear as day. The attraction, the tension, the chemistry. Ewan practically has his arm around you, looking at you intensely with the inscrutable spark in his eyes. His teeth lightly clamping down on his lip in desire.

There's a subtle scrunch between your eyebrows as you return Ewan's look, a result of trying to maintain composure when he is so close. But your posture is relaxed, almost cozying right up against him, showing just how comfortable you feel around him.

As Tom just said, you ship it.

If only.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Two weeks after the party at Fabien's, the main cast members of House of the Dragon are engaged in an additional round of promo work. Season two is at its peak, and the media is just clamoring to get more from the cast.

Some are booked for photoshoots, others for interviews.

While a minor character in the show, they also wanted you to take part in engaging with the press, but you are already busy with your upcoming film with Jacob. You're currently out in LA, doing rehearsals in preparation for the actual shoot.

Ewan is yet again lounging in a hotel suite, about to do an interview with Vanity Fair.

He sends you a text, in response to your complaint about a difficult scene.

You had shared, It's a pretty dramatic scene. What if I can't cry on command?

He easily texts back, You can do it, darling. Trust me, you're one of the most talented young actors I know.

- Thanks, Ewan. Good luck with your interview!

- Thank you, good luck with rehearsal. I miss --

Ewan pauses typing. I miss you, he aches to send. He does miss you so much. Why can't he just commit to it?

He ends up sending, I'll see you soon, in its place.

He knows he wants to do everything with you. Take you out on dates. Sweep you off your feet. Travel to wherever you will be filming just to see you. Confess how much he wants you.

Why can't he? It's terrifying to him, being with someone, in danger of falling in love - truly falling in love - with a fellow actor, and that relationship exposed to much public scrutiny.

He's always been a private person, so will he be able to handle all of that? Acting is his first love, and he's devoted to the craft. If he succumbs to his desire for you, will that cause him to go off track?

What if the relationship is not well-received? He is aware of how passionate fans can be. What if they cruelly decide to make you the object of their ire as a result? He can't possibly put you through that.

But... but fuck it.

The Aemond in him turns proud and defiant. Why can't he? Why shouldn't he?

He types another message in a second, then clicks send.

And I miss you.

His publicist walks over to him, giving him a few last-minute instructions. In a few minutes, the room is all composed and the interview is ready to begin.

The line of questioning has almost become routine-like for him, a far cry from when he first started giving shorter interviews for previous projects.

The answers flow from him smoothly, stemming from his care for Aemond and the show.

Near the end of the interview, he is asked about the remaining normalcy of his life. Surely it has all changed ever since he landed the show?

"Well, I try to go back to my hometown as much as possible. Just, you know, spending time where I grew up really helps maintain a sense of normal, for me," he responds. "It keeps my feet planted on the ground, that is, when I'm not on dragonback flying high up in the clouds."

The interviewer promptly laughs at his last remark, then asks, "What's next for you? Your fans are just eagerly awaiting your next project. Maybe a film like your new costar? Everyone is excited for her film with Jacob Elordi."

Ewan can't hide the way he perks up at the mention of you, never mind how Jacob is included too. "Ah, yes, well there are some things down the line for me. More than anything, I want to choose a project that I am passionate about, with a story and a character that is rich and complex. Whichever that is, I guess you'll find out soon!"

"Yes, yes, we will!"

"And about her project, I mean, I'm just so proud of her. We've become really close and I think she's a fantastic actress and person. She's going to smash it in this film, that's for sure."

The interviewer nods enthusiastically, smirking as he adds, "Apparently a bit of romance on the cards for her as well!"

"You mean in the movie?" Ewan replies, half-smiling in confusion. But he spies his publicist gesturing to the interviewer from behind the camera, a signal that private affairs are off-limits.

After a final question, the interview wraps up.

His publicist grumbles to him afterward, as they prepare to leave the room. "It was clear that no private questions are allowed. Sorry about that, Ewan."

"It's alright, that was... well, what was he on about? Did he mean romance between the two of us?"

"I believe he's talking about Jacob and her. They were spotted out in LA today. The interviewer probably just wanted you to spill some dirt on your costar."

Ewan frowns, "What do mean they were spotted?"

His publicist appears surprised at his question, and his obvious interest. "They've been papped walking arm in arm in LA. Seemed pretty close, not that it's any of that interviewer's business."

As they walk out of the hotel, Ewan can't help but do an immediate Google search of your name, and sure enough, the headlines about your walk with Jacob are abound.

He can't pinpoint how he feels as he sees the photos, the statuesque Jacob with his arm around you as you beam up at him. He notices that his grip on his phone has tightened, so he turns it off quickly and shoves it in his pocket.

Whatever this is, and how it makes him feel, he doesn't like it. He doesn't like it one bit.

His phone vibrates from his pocket, but he ignores it.

So he doesn't yet see your reply.

I miss you too.

💌 next chapter

Ewaaaan! Make a move, my guy!

As much as we'd like to see them make declarations of love or get into the passion quick, I wanted to make it as realistic as possible. How would two young actors begin dating? Reader, kudos to you for keeping it cool as a cucumber thus far - it's up to Ewan to make the big move.

Part three may be the last. What'll they be? Just friends? PR relationship? Notorious fling? Or new celebrity power couple?

MASSIVE thanks for all the lovely feedback for part one! 💙

Update: if you wish to be tagged in part three, let me know in the comments 💌

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Reunion Interview

Plot: A reunion of our two favorite actors following their crazy lives after the ending of the fan-favorite show: The Mandalorian

Word Count: 4.7K

Pairing: Platonic!Pedro Pascal x Platonic!Reader, Paul Mescal x Reader

Warnings: sweet "father-daughter" moments, laughter giggles, just general fluff

A/N: This is something that's been on my mind for a while and with Gladiator 2 this only fueled it. CONTAINS CLAN OF THREE SPOILERS+WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE. Read all of the Clan of Three Series here and also read Where the Wild Things Are here

------

“Alright, we are all ready?” The interviewer asks and the cameramen and sound people each give their sounds of agreement and then turn to give the go-ahead to start, “Hello guys it’s a pleasure meeting you two. It must be good to reunite once again. Let’s get a little introduction then go crazy.” He greets the two actors sitting next to each other.

“Hello world I’m Pedro Pascal.” “And I’m Y/n L/n and we’re here with Variety Magazine.” The two of you greet the camera before looking at one another. Pedro gives a fake serious look and you roll your eyes at his antics and he burst into laughter.

“This is what I dealt with for five years oh god how did I do it.” You pinch the bridge of your nose while the older man dies down his chuckles.

“Don’t act all innocent you were in just as much mischief as I was.” Pedro points at you, “I was barely an adult on set you’re supposed to be the responsible one.” It seemed like years had flown by. This TV show was your breakthrough role and allowed your career to skyrocket and it was all thanks to meeting this man.

“Plenty of fun stories from set between the cast and crew.” The interviewer asks you both and Pedro nods enthusiastically.

“The first two seasons this one was attached to my hip. I couldn’t even go for a nap without her waiting outside of my trailer.” He says with a chuckle and you cross your arms.

“You were the only person on set who was childish enough to want to hang out with a high schooler.” You reply sassily and the interviewer has to cover his mouth to hide his laughter while Pedro gasps dramatically while holding his chest. “How dare you call me childish.”

“So Y/n being the youngest person of the cast and growing up on the show how did it affect your character?” You smile smoothing out the wrinkle in your pants.

“Well, I was cast in 2018 a couple of months after Pedro was already cast. It’s funny cause Dave and Jon actually when creating this show my character was never meant to be in this show just an idea thrown around.” You explain, “But they decided why not add another bounty for Mando to take care of, but through the show, they both learn to take care of each other and he becomes a father figure to her.”

“And Pedro how was that playing a role of becoming a father figure and being there in her life?” He asks and Pedro scratches his beard.

“I mean at first not gonna lie I was very nervous. I have worked with younger actors before but this was something different. It wasn’t a child actor that played my son or daughter, or someone who was an adult it was a teenager that I would be working with quite closely. I mean we met for our first table read and you were just this shy girl who was meant to be this sassy badass character. But you blew me and the crew away when we started working together,” Pedro says glancing over at you with a nostalgic look in his eyes, “Both the relationship of our characters had this whole evolution from being adversaries and not even friendly with one another to a bond that ran deeper than blood. I watched her grow up with every episode and season from that timid little girl to this strong intelligent woman before me.” You give a pouting smile before putting your face in your hands.

“I hate you. You’re gonna make me cry.” You sigh making the interviewer and Pedro laugh and wraps his arms around your hunched-over body rocking you side to side. “You’re not the only one teary-eyed,” The interviewer says fanning his eyes and you smile at his attempt to not single you out.

“It’s all good I’m professional.” You steel your face wiping away any trace of sadness from his touching speech. “Yeah, Pedro is an alright guy I guess.” You shrug and Pedro bursts into laughter throwing his head back

“Okay getting back on track. You’ve both been very busy this past year. Season 3 of The Mandalorian has been out and fans are both crying over how good this show is and how you tore us all apart with the ending.” He says and Pedro fake cries remembering the ending.

“Hey, I didn’t want her to leave me. She went to go find herself.” He points his thumb at me and you slap it away, “I didn’t have a decision in it as well. You should have seen him on my final day of filming, so as you know this man over here was gone pretty much all of season three cause he was filming his show with his other kids.” Referencing Bella Ramsey and Nico Parker his two other ‘children’ in The Last Of Us.

“Pedro is just our favorite father figure.” The interviewer says and you nod in agreement. “You have too many children to keep count of.” You say and Pedro gives a sheepish grin.

“I’m just good with kids.” He shrugs.

“But anyways so since he was busy filming for that show we were able to have his amazing stunt doubles, I love you Brendan and Lateef become him. So comes my final scene where I leave and Din is left all sad with Grogu. I think he’s in Canada filming and we block out the scene Dave and Jon tell us we’re all set. That scene feels very close to me 'cause it feels like my goodbye to both the character and to the crew who’s been there since I was eighteen.” You remember the sadness that day on set knowing that this was your final hours with this group.

“So we start rolling and I go through my whole monologue,”

“Which was amazing by the way.” The interviewer butts in and you smile,

“Oh thank you. So I do my thing and who I think is Brendan just breaks down crying before he can say his line I panic and try to improvise to get him back on track but when Dave calls cut I expect it to be Brendan to take off the helmet and apologize but turns out it was this crybaby.” You point your thumb to an embarrassed Pedro.

“Did you expect no waterworks when you were leaving me?” He defends himself, “I didn’t expect you there in the first place! But it was sweet and after many takes because he couldn’t get through his lines without crying we finished my last scenes.”

“I have seen that video from Dave Filoni of the behind-the-scenes of your final day on set.” On the TV beside the interviewer plays a video that shows the set and crew and there are the two of you going through the scene before Jon calls cut.

You remember that take vividly it ended up being the one used for the final cut, the second ‘Cut!’ was shouted the crew broke into cheers. You immediately crouch and break into tears and Pedro removes his helmet pulling you into a bearhug crying into your shoulder you both cry out your characters and each other's final goodbyes on set.

“Give it up to Y/n for her final scene! That’s a wrap for her.” Dave says behind the camera as it moves closer to you and Pedro. Both of you were teary-eyed, Pedro looking like a wreck as you give a cheesy grin through tears and Pedro presses a kiss to your temple before pulling you into another tight hug and that’s when the video ends.

“A very heartfelt video that shows the bond you two have working together over five years.” He says and the two of you smile. Just being a part of the Star Wars franchise had been a dream, growing up watching the original and the prequels as a child and now being involved in this story was game-changing. “Outside of Star Wars, you’ve both been very busy Pedro with Wonder Woman, The Unbearable Weight, hosting SNL, and one of the most popular shows of this year The Last of Us.”

“Stop it you’re making me blush.” Pedro waves his hand acting bashfully, “Don’t forget the three Emmy nominations.” You pipe in and Pedro covers his face at all the compliments headed his way. This man was way too humble.

“You’re not off the hook either you’ve been very busy yourself, you got your nomination for an Emmy for ‘The Mandalorian’, you’ve been in Bullet Train, Across the Spider-Verse, In the Heights, the latest Indiana Jones, and you just wrapped up A Quiet Place: Day One, all while going to school and getting your college degree now finally enjoying adulthood, how is that like.” The interviewer reminds you of the work you’ve done in the past five years.

You laugh twisting the rings that adore your fingers, “I mean high school was easier as I had an on-set teacher and graduated right around in the middle of filming In the Heights. Then for college right as the pandemic hit we all were on lockdown I continued with online courses and once it lifted it was working a schedule of classes and work but all the films I’ve been on have been so accommodating. With the program I took I graduated right after we wrapped Season 3 and before the Press Tour,” Pedro makes a cheering noise as the interviewer laughs.

“I’m assuming you were in attendance for that Pedro?” He questions and Pedro nods enthusiastically, “Of course, I was there for both high school and college! I made a sign and everything.” He and the interviewer laugh as you shake your head.

“Did he?!”

“It was the same big sign with a bunch of horrible pictures of me I think it said, ‘Y/n L/n my unofficial daughter’ with like a bunch of hearts.” You can picture the sign clearly remembering both high school and college walking across the stage to receive your diploma and hearing your friends and family cheer Pedro being one of the loudest.

“Since graduating and now fully dedicating yourself to film how has it been?” The interviewer questions and you give a wide smile.

“I love it so much, while it was stressful balancing work and classes being done is so rewarding. I’ve been able to accept so many new projects and attend so many events I couldn’t before due to classes.” In college, you and your manager had discussed your schedule working around sets while focusing on your education. You decided to strictly do online courses just to make things easier if you do need to travel for work but you’ve been to school events and made friends in college despite your virtual learning.

“Is this the first time you are meeting back up in person since the premiere of Season Three?” He asks and it makes sense with your guys’ busy schedules.

“No surprisingly since we wrapped Season Three there was a time when we didn’t see each other, with Pedro busy with Strange Way of Life, and I had just ended college. Plus I just moved to New York and then got involved with A Quiet Place we didn’t see each other in person until I think it was when you hosted SNL..?” You explain and Pedro perks up.

“Nooo you were there for the premiere of The Last of Us.” He calls you out and your jaw drops you completely forget how busy and how many premieres it all blends. “I would say you kinda stole the show when you appeared on the carpet, none of us were expecting you to be there.” The interviewer says with a laugh.

“That would be an understatement. So it’s the night before the premiere I’m in LA and I think she’s still in New York I remember I called you cause I felt like I was going to die,” Pedro retells and you laugh remembering picking up the phone to see a very nervous Pedro who was pacing in a panic about the premiere for the show.

“You were fine just being a big baby as usual you did the same thing during season one.” He shushes you trying to cover your mouth with his hand but you dodge from it.

“ANYWAYS,” He raises his voice, “Night of the premiere and I feel like I’m going to puke and crap myself all at the same time. But I get there everything is alright I see the rest of the cast happy to see Bellie again all those good things. I’m doing an interview and I think Bella was still on the carpet taking some photos when this roar of cheers came from the beginning. I’m thinking it’s Ashley Johnson or Troy Baker the original Joel and Ellie but I can’t see from down there. So they want me to get some photos with Bella and how I couldn’t tell they were planning something is beyond me.” You and the interviewer start giggling and you see queued up is a video from that night.

“Oh god, you have a video!” Pedro groans covering his face and you nudge him forcing him to watch.

The shouts of fans and photographers as Pedro poses for photos and you can see Bella go over and pull him over as the pair take photos together. Pedro places his hand on his stomach a technique he has used for years to quell his anxiety. The flashing lights and screams of fans only grow louder for a second and he just laughs confused at them. Bella squeezes his arm from his right side and he can sense a presence on his left side and he assumes it’s another cast member.

“Hey P…” A voice whispers in his ear and his eyes widen comically and he whips to turn to face you who has a cheesy smile on your face.

“What the fuck!”

The cameras show Pedro quickly wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you in the air and you laugh loudly before he puts you down and immediately talks rapidly questioning how you are here, how this happened, when you planned this, he had just called you a few hours before. The cameras start yelling at you two to pose and the pair of you pose a big grin spread across Pedro’s face. The video ends as he pulls Bella and Nico making it a group photo of all his on-screen daughters.

You laugh as it freezes at the photo of all of you smiling and laughing.

“I’m still in shock you managed to pull a fast one on me but that truly made my night,” Pedro says.

“It was all Bella and Nico’s planning I didn’t even know how they even managed to keep it from you during all those press tours. I was fully there like four days before the premiere,” You say, and on the screen are photos you had posted following the surprise of you hanging with Bella and Nico, and the rest of the last of us crew. One photo that makes you giggle is you standing before a snoring Pedro on a couch in a green room that you had Bella take for you when you snuck to watch their interviews.

“Speaking of Bella and Nico. I would say you including Sophie Thatcher blew up the internet in the ‘Children of Pedro’ interview,” The interviewer mentions and you smile and a thumbnail of the interview with you and these amazing actors and actresses.

“Oh, that interview was so much fun. It was the first time I met Bella and Nico as I worked alongside Sophie during Boba Fett and we all had this instant chemistry. Following that we all became good friends and we try to hang out when any of us are in town or plan stuff.” You explain and you see Pedro has a warm smile happy to see all the people he cares deeply for are friends, “Pedro’s glad all his children aren’t fighting.” You smirk and both the interviewer and Pedro laugh at your comment.

“I’m glad my home has some form of order,” Pedro bounces off your quip and the interviewer looks over some of his notes.

“Alright, I have some fan questions sent in for the both of you to answer if that’s alright.” He asks as both you and Pedro take sips from your drinks.

“Sounds great!” “Hit me with them.”

The interviewer nods excitedly looking over at you, “Alright Y/n we’ll start with you. This is a question from @pedroswife1975 ‘I was just as gagged at Pedro’s SNL performance I wanted to know if you had any clue of Pedro’s plans or did you go in just as blind as everyone else.’.” The screen shows a college work on Pedro’s SNL night.

“Oh, that was a crazy night, I was so excited to hear he was hosting SNL cause I was used to this guy’s craziness,” You say pointing a thumb at the older man, “I didn’t realize he was dropping hints or asking for my opinion like the fan cam skit he asked me about how I felt about like fan edits. To those watching I love them so much and genuinely lay in bed kicking my legs seeing the crazy shit yall make of me or people I know. Also, that fucking voice in the memory lost one.” Pedro bursts into laughter.

“What voice? This is my normal talking voice.” He flawlessly does the valley girl's voice that makes you speak through giggles.

“I think it was when he was in New York to rehearse for SNL and we’ve been meeting up and hanging out and we were at this cafe and he slips into this voice and I literally couldn’t help giggling,” You say, “So when I go to the taping I had to cover my mouth to stop from giggling everyone second.”

“It’s an amazing voice though.” The interviewer says in the valley girl accent, “Oh totally it’s completely amazingggg.” You respond by going heavy on the vocal fry unable to burst into a fit of giggles alongside Pedro.

“Okay, next question for Pedro. This is from @y/nssoulmate ‘I’m dying to know cause those Instagram photos were insane, but how crazy was Y/n’s 21st birthday?! Please I’m dying to know I’ll give my first child to know!!’.” You immediately groan covering your face and the pair laugh. On the screen appears a photo of your twenty-first birthday it’s partially blurry but it’s of you looking plastered. A ‘21’ crown halfway on your frizzy hair from the humidity of Pedro’s apartment that he transformed into a club vibe, a drunk grin on your face with an arm around Pedro’s shoulder the other holding a martini. Pedro is practically holding you up looking drunk as well as a beer in his free hand.

Pedro chuckles rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m going to be so honest I don’t remember much of that night. Someone thought it was a good idea to try and outdrink each other.”

“Hey! I was given full rein since it was my birthday. You were meant to be the responsible adult. Luckily Sarah Paulson and Oscar Issac were the actual adults that night,” You defend yourself. Truly that night was a blur but it was such a fun night. Your friends had taken you out for breakfast and a full day of celebration before you received a text from Pedro to go to his apartment to get his gift that he accidentally shipped to his place. Turns out it was a surprise and he was able to come back from shooting for The Last of Us and bring along your close friends and family.

“For my soulmate unfortunately neither Pedro nor I remember that night but trust from what those there that night it was the best birthday someone could through for me. Though I did avoid alcohol for like a month.” You say and Pedro groans remembering the hangout you both suffered the following day.

“Okay question for you Ms. Partyer. @imstillsadfromkazsdeath,” You laugh at hearing from the person’s social handle, “Their question is with news of both Wicked which you worked alongside Director John Chu during In the Heights, and Gladiator 2 has your co-star, Joseph Quinn, your father-figure Pedro, and your friend Paul Mescal coming out at the same time. Which are you seeing first Wicked or Gladiator 2?” On the screen, it shows a college of you with each respective person mentioned. A photo of you nineteen on set in New York City with John Chu and Lin Manuel Miranda, a picture of you and Pedro during premiere of season 3 of Mandalorian, a picture of you and Joseph Quinn on the set of A Quiet Place both dusty and covered in fake blood, and finally a picture of you and Paul Mescal at the this recent Met Gala a candid photo of inside the event talking during dinner.

“One more of a sidebar, I’m still sad about Kaz’s death if I could’ve changed it I would’ve both Freddy and I were so bummed filming those scenes. But for your question fuck you.” You answer so seriously that both Pedro and the interviewer burst into laughter.

“Seriously fuck you for making me choose. One I love John Chu and I am so excited to see Wicked I’ve been obsessed with it since a kid and I saw Idina and Kristin on Broadway so I need to see what Cynthia and Ariana do with this. But I also love all three guys and want to support them too 'cause I also love Gladiator and I know my father would be super betrayed since it’s our go-to movie to watch.” You were in such a rough spot.

“Can I clone myself?” You ask and both Pedro and the interviewer shake their head which makes you let out a frustrated groan, “You know what? I’ll see whatever movie I get invited to first. This leaves me not to choose it’s in the hands of John and the boys so they need to battle it out.”

“Wow, seriously such a cop-out,” Pedro whines and you shrug, “You can’t force me to decide if I don’t have the choice.”

“Very well played. Alright, our final question for Pedro from @pedroiszaddyfr they ask ‘Hey Pedro if I get chosen I’m absolutely in love with you and just want you to know that.”

“Aw, I love you too,” Pedro replies and the interviewer continues.

“So my question is in The Last of Us after season 1 in the books ‘The Last of Us: Where the Wild Things Are’ we do get introduced to Joel’s second biological daughter is there any potential plans to include them in the show making them canon since they aren’t in Part 2 and if so. Please for the love of all these mighty get Y/n to play your daughter she would kill the role!” The interviewer chuckles at the question and you look over at Pedro who thinks over the question.

“Well as I’m sure many of you do know in the books we do get an extremely interesting character that changes and adds more depth to the characters of the game. I’d love them to add her into the show and we see the change in Joel and Ellie during the period before season two. I mean I’d be so down for Y/n to be a part of this but that’s in the hands of Craig and Neil. Unless you know something I don’t?” Pedro turns to look at you and you raise your hands shaking your head.

“I’m just as clueless as you. But I would love to be a part of the show. I’ve read the book and she truly is such an interesting character. I mean that opening fight scene in the cabin before Joel and Tommy pull up is so fucking cool. But yeah Craig and Neil hit me up before Pedro starts begging and whining.” You say and a bark of laughter comes from the older man.

“Well thank you both so much for taking the time and talking about your lives and this amazing reunion. Is this the last you too will see each other until the next reunion?” The interviewer says.

“Nope! This girl can’t get rid of me now that we’re both back in New York for the time being.” Pedro says wrapping an arm around your shoulder and resting his head on top of yours.

“If anyone wants to take this old man off my hand you can have him,” You comment and Pedro gasps pushing you away from him as you giggle, “I’m kidding I love him and he’s amazing but yeah we got tickets for Beyonce coming up so I am very excited while I need this one to listen to her entire discography before we go,” You point your thumb at him and he raises his hand.

“Hey, I got a decent chunk under my belt. Plus I’ve known Beyonce longer than you.” Pedro says and the pair of you being bickering having that be the outro of the interview.

The pair of you collect your items from your dressing rooms before heading outside. Pedro has his arm wrapped around your shoulder to make sure you don’t bump into anything your gaze glued to your phone. The cool New York breeze sends chills down your spine as you scroll through Instagram. A buzz from your phone a text saying ‘Look up’ and when you look up you see Paul standing a few feet away in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt a trench coat over it with a cap and glasses.

“Paul!” You smile lowering your phone and pulling away from Pedro to go over to Paul who welcomes you in his arms, “I thought we were gonna meet at dinner?”

He shrugs a half grin on his face, “Thought I surprise you and then we can head together. What’s up Pedro” You smile at his thoughtfulness. Pedro accepts his handshake.

“Good to see you Paul, how’s the city treating you?” He asks knowing that Paul came here just a few days ago from London when you mentioned it.

“Good real good. You know how the city usually is but luckily I have a good guide,” Paul says squeezing your shoulder and you flush shying away. Pedro smiles glad to see you are happy as the pair of you look at each other with loving looks.

“Well, I’ll leave you both be to enjoy the rest of your night. I got plans to meet with Sarah and Lux soon,” He says giving Paul a handshake before you pull away and give Pedro a big hug which he equally reciprocates.

“Send Sarah and Lux my regards.” You say and Pedro nods, “Lux wants to see you soon so be sure to reach out to her.”

“I will and don’t forget we have drinks this Friday,” You say pointing your finger at him and he nods while pulling out his headphones.

“Yes, mom…” He rolls his eyes before starting to walk away sending a final wave, “Have a good night!”

“Bye Pedro.” “Bye P I love you!” You shout so he can hear over his headphones.

“Love you too kid!” He says blowing you a kiss before disappearing within the crowd. You bring your attention back to Paul who tucks a stray strand behind your ear.

“What are you looking at? Is something on my face?” You ask trying to reach for your face but he stops you holding your hand and giving a squeeze.

“I’m just looking at you, a chuisle mo chroí. You’re just beautiful is all.” He says slipping to Irish so easily it sends a shiver down your spine at his accent.

“Stop being so cheesy,” Your face flushes hot as you shove him away starting in the direction of the subway station. You hear him run up after you easily wrapping his arm around your waist before placing a kiss on your lips which you eagerly accept your hand reaching up to cup his cheek. Pulling away a bit, he gives a familiar smirk that makes you grin as you fully step back taking hand and the pair make their way to your plans.

“You’re such a sap.”

“A sap for you my love~”

“Shut up!”

a/n: y'all I'm alive I swear these finals have truly been killing me and TRUST, any paused work will be coming back I swear on my unborn child.

[choas232]

G/N Chatty reader x Steb 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

Summary: In which you grapple with feelings you don’t yet understand by talking a certain enforcer’s ears off. Forced proximity makes everything worse, as it tends to.

CWs: Profanity. Canon typical violence. Reader has some bias about Zaunites they probably need to work on. I wrote most of this at 10pm at night, so be warned.

No use of Y/N, neutral terms and they/them are used to refer the reader. Set in episode three, season 2.

Word count: 2.9

Part two

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝

“God. I’m starving. And tired. I barely slept at allllll last night. Do you think the Grey’s keeping us awake? Our glorious leader Kiramman sure wants it to, dragging us along at this cracking speed. It’s been a whole week, too. I’m gonna drop dead, at this rate.” You lament. Your fellow enforcer does not comment from his place behind you, his footsteps echoing around the pipe.

Graffiti crowds the metal surface, amateur artworks, declarations of love, violence, and scripts you don’t recognise cramming themselves over one another, space sparse and sought after. It’s not Jinx’s work. Still, there’s a chill on your back you choose to attribute to the profanities.

The people of the underground sure know how to decorate, that’s for sure.

You two have been chosen to scout out a fairly low-danger area in search of a Zuanite’s sighting of Jinx. He did say it after a hefty heaping of Grey was funnelled into his lungs and a gun was held to his head, but Caitlyn is paranoid enough to bark at shadows, and you will oblige, if only to keep her happy.

It’s not like any of you are much better. Loris is quieter than ever, Maddie jumps at the smallest sounds and of your companion… you have no idea. You never have. Steb’s inner workings remain a mystery to you.

You turn. “Are we there yet? We should be there soon, right?” Steb nods distantly, more focused on the setting around you.

This part of the pipes is yet to be flooded with grey, so you can see him clearly without the obscuring mask.

His light teal skin, thin lips, nose, sharp, angular features. His neat uniform. His polished posture. He is distinctly and utterly out of place amongst the chaos that surrounds you. His eyes are so blue. So opalescent, shining like pearls in his eye sockets. Is that weird to notice? How much detail is it normal to notice about someone? You should probably stop looking.

His ribbed ears flick back, ever so slightly, eyes flicking to meet yours for a brief moment.

You look away. “Uh.” His eyes. His blue eyes. Blue. “God. I’m sooo hungry. Hah. I haven’t eaten since this morning. The rations are running out, and all the Zaunite stuff Vi is bringing in is uhm, questionable.”

You don’t look behind you again, your mouth moving quicker. Your breath is tight, probably because of the steady stream of words flowing from your mouth. You think. “I would kill for a good sandwich. Or two. I might have to resort to cannibalism—”

Hands enclose around your collar and yank you back with force.

Below you, a human sized-hole lined with rusted, broken metal grating, a slowly, ever spinning fan—

Your heart staggers in your chest like a drunkard. Images of your empaled, scraped, body twisted and pressed beyond recognition cram into your skull, rattle and scream.

“Fuck.” You mumble, quietly. Steb’s hand releases your collar. “C-close one. Thanks. Fish-sticks. How didn’t I see that?” You laugh. He doesn’t. It isn’t funny.

He brushes the shoulder pads of your uniform off, carefully but hastily looking you up and down. He keeps a respectable distance between you, but you can still see his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. You mimic him. Your mouth feels dry.

He fixes you with a look as his hands drop to his sides, and although his face usually retains some semblance of ambiguity on it, you know exactly what he’s thinking. Watch where you’re going.

“Sorry doc. I…” You trail off. You should stop talking. You probably talk so much around him because he makes you nervous. Why does he make you nervous? Your usual slamming of thoughts trickles dry. You have no idea.

Carefully, you two traverse over the great gaping hole in the pipework. How did you miss it? You don’t sure don’t miss how Steb watches you hawk-like though, and the following guilt is low and prickling in your gut. He goes first, and every small unprompted movement of yours has him stiffening, arm moving to steady you.

“Jeez. Don’t mother hen me, I’m all grown-up, I assure you.” You bat him away, landing with a clang! of the metal against your boots as you leap across the last segment. His frown is resounding.

A corner stretches before you, now. You let him go first with a swing of your arm just in case the metal of the pipe opens up to attempt to swallow you yet again. “All yours,” He obliges.

It’s an open space. Milky green light filters through the roofing, painting the graffiti stained flooring monochromatic and hazy. Two other pipes adjoin to the room, and a mural of Janna clad in white laced with metallic armour bounds over the walls. It looks exactly like what was described, which is worrying, because hey, Jinx!

The sniffling child is even more worrying, though. Looking up, she brushes away dark locks  from her face and bursts into prompt tears. “Please, m-my-my… my leg. it really hurts.” She wails.

Sure enough, one of her legs is crushed under a slab of tin, making itself known as the cause of the light filtering through the roof. “Please. Please.” Snot dribbles down onto her ragged shirt, her big brown eyes blown wide.

Steb is already gone before you can access the situation, bounding over.

Poor kid. You wince, tapping your fingers against your lips. Probably just playing with the ball you see perched nearby when shoddy craftmanship led to tragedy. Still… “Jeez. Think to consider a trap? No? Just me.” You mutter.

“Just you.” The voice from behind you amusedly whispers, and then you feel the cool rim of the gun pressed against your skull.

Fear makes a mockery out of you. Your thoughts accelerate, snapping at each others heels, but you cannot think. You aren’t really the brawlers of the team. He’s the field medic, for fuck’s sake, and while you can handle yourself in a fight this is more of a Vi job. You regret mocking her cuisine choices. This is probably some kind of sick karma. Sick? You feel sick. God, your stomach is writhing, your insides eating each other up.

Steb, still blinded by his tunnel vision, hauls the tin off of the girl. His ears flick down as he peers down at the clean space beneath, clean of blood and gore. Her leg, unblemished and by all means healthy looking, curls back into her body, and then she bursts outwards like a spring, down the nearest tunnel.

Too late, he looks back at you.

“I’m sure they require you topsiders to rattle a few braincells together to wear that fancy uniform. They don’t need allll of them, do they?” The man holding the gun to your head calls out to him. Flesh drips from his arms, lanky and lean, pressing against your neck as he holds you into him. You smell the shimmer on his breath before you see his blood lined eyes.

Steb jerks forwards. Bruisingly, the gun slams into your skull. “Move and their brains go BOOM! Hands in the air. Now.” He snarls, and Steb freezes in place, slowly raising his hands. You can see him breathing, hard, heaving breaths.

More people clamour their way out of vents, behind slabs of wood. You count at least four. Shit.

Shit.

This is bad.

“Woah! Talk about dramatics, huh?” You start, and almost in shock, the man holding you to himself grip loosens. From Steb’s place, you can see the wrinkle that lines his mouth when he gets stressed creep into existence. (That’s normal to remember. You should know when your coworkers get stressed. Part of the job, and all.) He slowly shakes his head. You mouth, trust me. He shakes his head harder. “Maybe we should talk this out? Civilly, tea and biscuits? …No?”

“It stopped being civil when you went for one of mine.”

Of course that guy you beat the shit out of gave you the location of an ambush. He was all too eager to speak, and when you go poking your hand down foxholes, it’s going to get bitten off. You feel both incredibly stupid and incredibly self-satisfied, you knew it, and you went here anyways.

“One of yours? I mean, we probably didn’t mean to? It was probably a mistake—” he shoves the gun down your throat. Spittle drips down the barrel. You taste dirt and gunpowder. You taste the blood leaking from your tongue.

You taste fear.

“Well? Your bag.” He gestures loosely to Steb.

Steb locks eyes with you as he gently tugs the straps off of his back, letting the hefty bag land to the floor with a thump. Carefully, he steps back, raising his hands in the air once again.

One of the hovering goons quickly snatches it, tugging it open. Medical supplies, bottles, all-the-like clatter the ground, but she continues shifting through hastily, eyes slowly narrowing. The last of our food supplies…, you mournfully think, quickly followed by Caitlyn is going to kill us, and she’s probably right to.

“You told us there would be hex tech, you fucking liar.” She drops the bag carelessly, starting towards the man holding you. “Well, do you think I’m some sort of prophet? You knew that it was an estimate.” He snaps back, grip on you loosening, the gun shifting out of your mouth to point towards the soft flesh of your cheek, spreading out your blood clouded spit as it does.

“I think you set us the hell up. You promised we’d split the money, but where’s the money now, huh? I gotta family to feed, hired work is dropping like flies with the chem barons at each other’s throats, which means I missed on any number of begging clients for this shit.”

You get an idea.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

It’s a terrible idea.

Steb tears his gaze from the arguing pair to meet your eyes, perhaps on some precognition of the mistake you are about to make.

You wink, grab the gun pressed to your cheek and then you yank.

It comes as cleanly as expected, the man’s adrenaline rattled, drug loosened reflexes nothing for the shock you give him when you take the gun from his hands, and than run. Surprise gives you the upper hand, yells clouding your soundscape. You still manage to pick out Steb’s footsteps, clean and even behind you as you barrel down the nearest pipe.

You run harder than you’ve ever run, past graffiti, with only your breath, the calls behind you, your heartbeat and the echoes of his and your boots slamming against metal to guide you.

You turn the corner so hard you slam your side against it, feeling your already bruised cheek cry out in pain in time with your yelp, and you stumble. Steb catches your shirt and yanks you right back up, and then you’re in another wide-open space.

Your head swings around, fear hammering around your ribcage like a desperate songbird.

Steb grabs your shoulder, gesturing with his head. You follow his gaze. There’s a smaller pipe in the wall, covered by a draping of torn fabric, and you rush towards it before you have any time to think, the fabric draping over your hair, the surface cool under your fingers.

He follows, your pursuer yells barrelling into your ears as the curtain draws shut.

The space is tight, circular, not even big enough for you to stretch out an arm and not brush the opposite end. Your back is pressed flush against the concrete and plaster. Your legs cage Steb, as do his, looping over one each other, his knee bent at an angle that’s for sure going to hurt later. His arms clutch the walls of the tube, yours resting bent in your lap.

He leans down, and his fingers gently grasp that stupid beret of his and tug it down onto his lap, before he pulls his head back up, his head scraping the roof. He’s a least a head taller than Maddie, and although you’d like to think of yourself as average, you are now grateful for the height you lack.

“OVER HERE!” Did they see you? Is this it? What can you do, two against at least five or so. You mean, counting has never really been your strong suit under pressure, and who’s to tell? Are you going to die? Are you going to die, your legs pressed into his midriff?

The gold smattering across Steb’s undereyes and nose adjoins with the darker turquoise scales lining the cavities his eyeballs are strung into, carving out little gold, blue, orange stripes, like the ones on the fish you and your parents used to gawk at the aquariums had.

Are they going to cart out your body to your parents, after your fellow enforcers find you, crammed into a hole in the underground? What would you had died for?

His eyes are so blue.

He blinks, smooth, deep lapis overtaking the gleaming surface of his eyes before his eyelids do. He has a second eyelid. How did you never notice?

His lips, perpetually downturned as they are, his steady line his eyebrows carve themselves into, his perfect posture, even as you are cramped within the pipe, the smooth, angular frame of his cheekbones all of it make him look like one of those forever uninconvenienced paintings the councillors hang from their mansion walls. He looks calm. His stupid snooty resting face cannot fool you. You know he isn’t.

His lips are parted, the gap between his front teeth visible as he stares down the opening of the tunnel like a loyal family dog. His little giveaway.

Maybe his inner workings aren’t such a mystery, after all.

He makes you nervous. He makes you so nervous. He makes you into a wreck.

You think you might be in love with him.

—and your pursuers are rushing past you, all until you can’t hear their voices and you’re alive. You’re alive and you’ve never been so happy to tomorrow eat shitty Zaunite food and have Caitlyn yell at you for loosing supplies and talk and talk and talk until your throat is raw.

You don’t. Talk. You don’t talk.

He’s looking at you.

You feel like a fool.

You sit there, just looking at him too. His eyelids slip halfway, letting you count the short lashes that frame them. His expression relaxes, loosens, ever so slightly, his arms moving from the wall of the tunnel to his lap.

You could sit here with him for hours, death inches from you both, and you could be happy. You could be suspended in disbelief and plausible deniability; you could allow yourself to lie. Your heart is pounding from the adrenaline, of course. Your face is pink because of overexertion, and you kind of want to kiss him because you’ve never kissed anybody and you may as well as get it over with before you die, right?

He points to his face. You blink, and then he points to yours. You brush your finger cheeks against the flesh and feel the sting of injury, spittle and blood on your fingers. Right.

Right. He’s looking at you because you’re injured right?

Of course he is. (Disappoint is still food, and you swallow it.)

Gently, he reaches into his breast pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Instead of sparring you and handing it to you, he merely carefully holds your head, one hand on your jaw and the other gently patting down the mess on your cheek. His head is tilted. You feel your heart slam up your throat, a throbbing, horrible pain that lets you part your lips to let the breath escape you before it can choke you.

The hand cradling your jaw moves a careful finger up to brush your lower lip.

Accident, of course. He’s not even looking at them, rather, the mess, taking his sweet time as he does, so very gentle.

You think he might be the danger, not the hell that is the pipework, nor the Grey, nor not the man with the gun

He pulls back, tucking the handkerchief back into the pocket and shallowly inclining his head towards the opening.

With a long look back at you, he crawls out of the hole first. You follow, dizzily. Ever the gentlemen, he offers you a hand as you push your way out of the hell that made you. You take it and feel incredibly guilty for doing so, stumbling to your feet.

He fastens his beret, usually a sign from you to inwardly (or outwardly) mock his silly hat, still watching you. You do not, in fact, mock him. You might be shaking, in fact, and that thought makes you hate yourself more than you could ever despise that ugly navy piece of fabric.

He frowns, and then he gestures to your mouth. You flinch without meaning too. “Huh?”

He mimes speaking, shallowly opening and then hastily closing his mouth

He's right to be concerned.

You haven’t spoken since you two trapped yourselves in the tunnel, after all.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝 𓆟 𓆞𓆝

Notes: Thank you for reading!! :)))) STUPID. IDIOTS IN LOVE. Him under the guise of medical assistance letting himself touch you... bro isn't slick whatsoever. If you have any ideas, be sure to drop them in my ask box, there is lack of fic on him holy hell. As a side note, we all need the comfort after season two part two holy cow…