#rian chatter

[gothyanki]

I must to bed (and so also to the end of BOOping)

[eggbagelz]

Maybe getting hyperfixated on the dark crystal again is the only thing that can save me

[moonchildstyles]

whats this aster curious gazes im seeing ?🥸

wordcount: 2.7k+

—————

Mikaela impatiently checked the time broadcasted on the clock above the auditorium's entrance, trailing after the molasses-slow minute hand. How had it only been three minutes since she last checked and not the twenty she had sworn it had been? She and her group had already finished peer reviewing each other's papers ten minutes ago, but they were all confined to their seats for fear of Professor Rian marking them down for leaving early—one of his favorite activities Mikaela had learned about the hard way during the second week of courses.

"How much longer?" Bria bemoaned from across the table, her own boredom showing in her dull gaze. (Y/N) perked up at Mikaela's side at the question, though she stayed just as quiet as she always was. 

"Another thirty," Mikaela murmured, a moment away from rolling her eyes, "I feel like we've been waiting for, like, an hour." 

Around them, the remaining groups were still chattering, some speaking about the essays while others seemed just as checked out as them. Running a hand through her long hair, Mikaela convinced herself to stay strong. 

"At least it'll be the weekend after this," she reminded the table, looking to Bria, "You're still set on getting your tattoo this weekend?" 

Bria plucked up at the question, her brown eyes sparkling in excitement. "Mhm! They called and confirmed yesterday with me, so I'll be in tomorrow morning, first thing!" 

"Are you going to be with the same guy that you had the consultation with?" Mikaela asked, picturing the long haired, heavily tattooed man she had seen when she went with Bria the first time to set up the initial appointment. She almost booked one for herself after seeing him; even the scowl and less than friendly demeanor couldn't detract from his... everything. 

Leaning across the table as if sharing a secret, Bria raised her eyebrows with a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes. "I hope. I might cancel, if not." 

Mikaela laughed along with her friend, knowing exactly where she was coming from. 

Piping up with a small smile on her features, (Y/N) asked, "Where are you going for your tattoo?" 

"It's not too far from here actually," Bria started, settling her chin in her hand as she spoke to (Y/N) at Mikaela's side. "It's called 17Black." 

(Y/N)'s expression brightened at the mention of the tattoo parlor in a way Mikaela had never seen before. Though she usually came to class fresh-faced and dewy, there was now a glimmer in her eyes that almost gave the illusion of glitter having fallen in her lashes.

"They're the best," she bubbled, her smile wide, "It's gonna turn out really, really good. You said you know who your artist is going to be?" 

"Yeah—um—hold on," Bria muttered, reaching into her bag, "I got his card last time I was in—I think he's the owner, or something." After a moment she pulled out a black and white business card, reading the name off: "Harry." 

Passing the card across the table, (Y/N) eagerly read over the stylized font and the glossy logo on the other side. "He's amazing—you're super lucky, Bria." 

(Y/N)'s smile wasn't one that could be shaken as she passed back the card. Mikaela thought she looked like she was proud, even. (Y/N) was always so reserved, seemingly more comfortable in the background and only chirping up when needed, Mikaela had never seen her so bright like this. 

"Have you been there before, (Y/N)?" she asked, trying to imagine someone like (Y/N) with any tattoos—especially done at a place like 17Black. 

Not that there was a specific kind of person that could have tattoos or that the parlor wasn't nice, but she had a hard time picturing (Y/N) with all her ribbons, pink sweaters, and shimmer flouncing into that building and getting a design inked into her skin. Especially by someone like Bria's artist; she was already shy enough, Mikaela doubted his scowls and curt tone would be anything of comfort.

That left her raising her brows in surprise when (Y/N) happily nodded her head. "Yeah! I only have one tattoo, but Harry did it and it's"—there was a moment something dreamy flashed over (Y/N)'s gaze then—"It's perfect." 

"I didn't know you had a tattoo," Bria interjected, her expression surely mirroring Mikaela's with her own perked brows and searching gaze as if they had both somehow missed an obvious marking. 

"It's really little," (Y/N) explained, settling some in her seat, "It's on my side, like, on my ribs, so people don't really see it." 

"I never pictured you with a tattoo," Mikaela added, "And especially on your ribs. You're brave." 

"Honestly," Bria started, bouncing full brows over her eyes "I don't know how you got through it, especially with him." 

A cinch appeared between (Y/N)'s brows. "What do you mean?" 

"You probably had to take your shirt off for the rib tattoo, right?" Bria prodded, watching as (Y/N) flustered some before ultimately nodding her head, "I don't know how to act around that guy—Harry—with my clothes on, I think I would combust if he asked me to take them off." 

It wasn't hard to see that (Y/N) was bubbling with embarrassment at Bria's remark—though Mikaela did hardily agree. She wondered if (Y/N) felt the same way; it was hard to picture her getting flustered over someone like Bria's artist. There could be that whole opposites attract thing going on for them, but Mikaela could only really see the scenario where Harry would crush the marshmallow that is (Y/N).

"Oh, I don't know," she muttered half-heartedly, trailing off without a real answer, "You know, he's just..." 

"It's okay, I get it," Bria finished for her with a bubbling laugh that had (Y/N) cracking her own polite smile. "He's pretty intimidating, honestly. Not for everyone, I guess." 

With her hands a bundle in her lap, (Y/N) tilted her head, "I wouldn't say that—" 

Not a moment too soon, Professor Rian made his way back to the forefront of the auditorium—something Mikaela wished he would have done a half an hour prior. "Class dismissed. Next Wednesday we'll do our final draft reviews and the finished essays will be due next Friday at midnight. Have a nice weekend." 

"Finally," Bria exasperated, immediately rushing to pack her things just as Mikaela had before Rian had even finished talking.

(Y/N) had done the smart thing and had her things ready to go once they had finished peer reviewing, only having to sling her bag over her shoulder while she quietly waited for the pair of them to get their own shit together. 

It was wild how much more awake Mikaela felt now that class had been dismissed, leaving behind the exhausted state she was lulling into at her desk. Shrugging into her jacket, the mental list of tasks she had to accomplish before her sister, Mira, and her boyfriend would be over for dinner didn't sound so bad now.

"What are you getting, Bria? For your tattoo, I mean," she chirped up, peering around Mikaela as they walked into the corridor, steps in sync with one another. 

"The moon and some stars and stuff on the top of my hand," she explained, "It's kind of hard to describe without a picture, but it's this whole thing." 

"That sounds really pretty," (Y/N) smiled, sincerity in her voice, "Hopefully it won't take too long—I hear the top of your hand can hurt sometimes with the bones and all." 

"It might not be so bad if it took a while, right?" Mikaela piped up, shooting Bria a look from the corner of her eye. Maybe, if Mira and her boyfriend didn't overstay their welcome tonight, she'd go with Bria in the morning and see if her artist had a girlfriend or something. 

(Or was at least open to hooking up on one of the tattoo chairs). 

Leading down the hall towards the main entrance of the building, Bria nudged Mikaela's shoulder. Ahead of them, (Y/N) reached forward and opened the door for the three of them to pass through. 

"Definitely wouldn't be bad," Bria laughed, the chill of the winter air seeping through the sleeves of Mikaela's jacket as they stepped outside. "I don't know, I might even—Wait, oh my god." 

"What?" Mikaela asked, brows furrowing at the abrupt change in her friend. 

Instead of the amused bubbly expression she wore just a moment prior, Bria now looked ahead with wide eyes and gaped lips, her steps slowing over the concrete. 

(Y/N) noticed the change in her demeanor as well, peering around Mikaela as her own features molded into something of worry. "What happened?"

"He's here," Bria muttered, looking straight ahead towards the student parking lot, "That's literally him right there, isn't it? Why is he here?" 

"Who? Who's her—" 

Following Bria's line of sight, Mikaela felt her own words get stuck in her throat when she saw just what had her friend going limp. 

As if summoned, Bria's tattoo artist—Harry—had somehow found a prime parking space in the student lot and was now waiting.

He was ever the intimidating figure with his arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the hulking frame of the black Range Rover behind him. (Because, of course, he would drive a Range Rover). Even with the chunky black cardigan draped over his form, he didn't look any less imposing than when he had stalked through the tattoo parlor. He perfectly matched his car, all black, tattoos tracing over his skin, including the heavy chest pieces on display from the low scoop of his top. A pair of sunglasses were holding his hair back on the top of his head, with his lips set in a firm line, lip ring and all.

"He doesn't go here, right?" Mikaela blanched. Why else would be here, if not to go to class, right?

(Y/N) looked just as bewildered as they were, a cant to her head as she took him in. "What is he doing here?" she muttered, voice quiet enough to be speaking to herself.

Their small trio stood off to the side, out of the way as the rest of their classmates trickled around them as well as other students meandering through campus. From where they stood, Mikaela could see the way the tattoo artist scanned over the student body, searching for something—or someone.

He didn't come to see Bria, right? That would be crazy, leaning on certifiable—even if he was hot.

Mikaela's eyes widened when she saw (Y/N) wave her hand above her head. What was she doing? Did she not think this was weird that he had showed up to campus when he really didn't have any reason to? 

She watched as he caught sight of (Y/N)'s waving arm and his features almost immediately softened. Even from where they were standing, it was clear to see the tension releasing from his body in a breath. He pushed off from where he was lent against his Range Rover and started towards the building—towards them.

Was (Y/N) insane or something, and they'd just missed all the signs until this moment? Why would she ask him to come over here?

"He's coming over here, what the fuck," Bria murmured, just as lost as Mikaela. 

It didn't take long for his spanning strides to cross the concrete and take him to where their small group had taken root. Seeing him this close again, Mikaela realized her memory didn't do him any justice—he was more than gorgeous. Unfortunately crazy, but still hot. 

Had he always had his nose pierced? Had his eyes always been that green? Had they always been pinned to (Y/N) like that? 

"(Y/N), do you—" Bria started, only to cut herself off when (Y/N) excitedly bounced up to her toes once the tattoo artist was close. 

"What are you doing here, H?" she chirped, familiarity in her voice as she looked up at him.

Mikaela figured she wore the same expression that Bria did, with her eyes wide and brows raised, a fraction away from her jaw dropping as they watched the tattoo artist—H—pull (Y/N) into his arms and drop a kiss on the top of her head.

"Came to pick you up for lunch, if that's okay," he murmured, not sparing a glance their way as he kept the pink marshmallow in his arms. "I also noticed there was an extra jacket lying around my room that I thought was supposed to be with you." 

Sheepishly looking down, (Y/N) shook her head. "I forgot, I'm sorry." 

Adoration was clear on the tattoo artist's—her boyfriend—features. "'S alright, lovebug. I brought it with me so y'can have it the rest of the day, jus' don't keep forgetting it. 'S only getting colder out, I don't want you to get sick." 

"I won't," (Y/N) sighed, looking entirely at home as she clutched his sweater in her hands and fluttered her lashes at him as if he were a king. "Thank you." 

Mikaela couldn't help the simmering of her blood beneath her skin, surely a flush painting her complexion as she thought back to just what she and Bria had been saying during class. They talked all about how hot (Y/N)'s boyfriend was to her face, implied he was intimidating and not her type, and she had even heard them freak out thinking he had come to see them. She was never going to pair with them for peer review again.

(Though Mikaela will give herself credit for not speaking about the lingering fantasy she'd had involving one of those tattoo chairs and Harry's hair pulled back so he could focus). 

"Um," Mikaela sounded, almost cringing at how stupid she sounded from just a single syllable, "I think we should probably go, but we'll see you next week, (Y/N)." 

(Y/N) turned with her expression going bashful. Her boyfriend's hands didn't move from where they were on her waist though he finally looked up from her to see the rest of the world around them. 

"I'm sorry," she apologized as if in reflex. Looking at the man behind her, she started with a shy smile on her lips, "Harry, this is Bria and Mikaela. They're the girls from one of my English classes I've told you about." 

Back was the expression she recognized from when she had dropped by the tattoo parlor. His features hardened some, going less open and easy to read than they had been just a moment ago. He took them in with a stilted smile on his lips. 

"Nice to meet you," he murmured, his gaze flicking to Bria for a split second longer, "Actually, we've met before, right? You're my nine a.m. tomorrow." 

"I am, yeah," Bria said, sounding just as lame as Mikaela felt. It was easy to see Bria was floundering for anything to say before she finally settled on, "(Y/N) didn't tell us she had a boyfriend." 

His smile turned lopsided at that, amusement flickering in his gaze as he looked down at the marshmallow in his arms. "She didn't?" 

(Y/N) looked to the pair of them, biting back a smile as if remembering what was said back in class but deciding it was their secret to keep. "It just didn't come up." 

"Right," he smiled, squeezing her waist just enough to get her bouncing at his side with a short huff of laughter pouring out, "Are you ready to go?" 

"I think so, yeah," (Y/N) agreed, craning her neck to smile up at him before returning her attention to Mikaela and Bria. "I'll see you guys next week."

The pair shared similar goodbyes, hoping they didn't sound as embarrassed as they felt. Walking away from them, Mikaela watched Harry tangle his fingers with (Y/N), slowing just long enough to press a kiss to her forehead before leading her towards his Range Rover.

"We are the most annoying people in the world," Mikaela said, breaking their silence, "We literally said all of that about him to his girlfriend." 

"She's never going to partner for peer review with us again." 

Despite the guilt and bits of humiliation floating through her system, Mikaela couldn't shake off just how sweet it was to see (Y/N) interact with someone like that—especially someone like her boyfriend. They were clearly in love, that much she could tell.

"Oh my god," Bria said, whipping her head around to look at Mikaela with horror stricken eyes. 

"What?" Mikaela asked, taken aback at the sudden urgency in Bria's voice. Was another person they had lusted over to their partner, about to round the corner? 

"I have to see him again tomorrow," Bria whined, "And, (Y/N)'s probably going to tell him what we said." 

At that thought, Mikaela really hoped her sister would overstay her welcome tonight—give her a reason to stay in bed and leave Bria to her appointment alone. 

—————

this is the first time im trying out this kind of pov so I really hope everyone like it! thank you sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please lmk if you have any ideas you want to share!

[chaos-event-horizon]

BRING BACK TINY TOSHI! WANNA SEE MORE SKINNY VILLAIN!

Flashback(?)

Somewhere, in an alternate timeline...

~~~~~

The tall man grumbled softly to himself after putting his phone down, sighing. "Goddamn Nighteye and his stupid goddamn..."

"Is... Is everything okay Boss?"

He paused, looking down at the younger man who'd come up beside him with a basket of clean laundry. He'd had this pet for a few months now, and was so used to Rian's presence that he almost didn't notice the kid approach.

He shrugged, some of the grumbliness dissipating. "One of my subordinates is coming over to discuss something he can't say over the phone," he said. Catching the slightly panicked look in the brunette's hazel eyes, he continued. "He's trustworthy. One of four people that knows about me being in this form. You'll be perfectly safe."

That seemed to reassure the young man, who nodded. "Y-yes sir. Thank you sir."

Toshinori put a gentle, bony hand on the smaller man's head, petting him softly. "You can relax, Kitten. You have nothing to fear when I'm around. Go ahead and put that away, he'll be here soon... And it might be good for you to meet him."

"Me...?"

The vigilante nodded, stretching. "He's got... Well, for lack of a better term, a fortune telling quirk. He can see your most probable future up to a point. He's coming to talk about a business issue, but... He'll probably want to check your future."

Rian looked thoughtful, then nodded. "O-okay... You'll be there, right?"

"Naturally."

"Okay... Then I'll... Finish the laundry," the younger man said, trotting down the hall.

Toshinori chuckled, eyes following his pet, before wandering out to the main room of the bunker. He had to move often to keep hidden, but lately had been making sure he stuck to the larger hideouts to ensure Rian had plenty of space. Kid was too afraid to go outside, but also desperately needed exercise.

These things just take time... He thought, popping his neck. That place royally fucked him up... Now I gotta un-fuck him.

He hesitated a second, blinking, then chuckled. Or maybe fuck him better, someday. Kid's cute as hell... He's half my age, so I gotta be--

A knock at the door interrupted that less than savory thought. It was in Nighteye's personal coded pattern, but even without that, Toshinori would have known who it was by the cold and sharp insistence of the sound.

He sighed, letting the younger man in. "It had better be important, Mirai. You know I'm trying to avoid all of you rowdy bastards showing up at my place for now."

"It is. We have new information in the supposed 'radio tower' being built on the eastern end of town."

"Let me guess..."

"You would be correct in thinking that it's a front for the police. They're using it to spy on several hero groups-- including Endeavor's outfit. Some of their equipment already appears functional, I did not want to risk them overhearing our phone conversation."

Toshinori thought a moment, nodding. "Makes sense... He's a bastard, but a relatively honest one. They probably need to find a way to pin him down and get him back under their heels."

"indeed. Since the death of his wife and one of his sons a few years ago, he has been relatively subdued... But chatter around the underground says he's starting to get back to normal. The therapist you had us plant seems to have done her job."

"Good. Can't have the one decent hero we know of falling apart quite yet."

"Far be it for me to question you, All Might, but..."

"It would be easier if we just let him fade away?" The blonde finished for him, snorting. "Maybe... But that's not how I want to see the bastard go out. Have some of our guys smash their equipment and make the location of the tower a mess. Todoroki deserves more time to grieve in peace."

"Understood..."

By the way the other vigilante trailed off and glanced over Toshinori's shoulder, he knew Rian must have peeked around the corner of the hall. "Come on out here, Kitten. It's safe."

If the green haired man was shocked or perturbed by his boss calling someone 'kitten', he didn't show it. Instead, he actually knelt down as Rian approached, like one might would for a small child or scared animal.

"Hello," he said, "You're the stray that All Might has taken in?"

Toshinori had the sudden and violent urge to smack his friend, but merely glared as Rian nodded and gave one of his soft smiles. "Y-yessir."

"You're very lucky," Nighteye blandly quipped. "The great All Might doesn't usually keep strays around. He barely even talks to me outside work, and I'm one of his closest allies. What kind of dirt do you have on him?"

The blonde was about to step in, but Rian... Laughed.

"I think he just likes my cooking. He says my meatloaf is really good, and I've also learned to make a mean stir fry. I also don't mind doing chores he hates."

Nighteye's mouth gave that telltale twitch. He wasn't one to smile himself, but he loved to make people laugh. Instead he nodded along. "All Might does tend to like useful things... And I'm sure your company also plays no small part in It. He doesn't say it, but he's quite lonely."

Rian giggled. "I just want to help the hero who rescued me in any way I can."

The grumpy vigilante nearly barked out a reminder that he was not a hero, but the words died in his throat as Nighteye smiled.

Holy shit.

"I like to help him too, which I often do using my quirk. Do you know what I can do?"

The brunette glanced up at Toshinori, then back to the other man and nodded. "Boss says you can see the future sometimes."

"I can. And I would like to check yours. May I?" He asked, and when Rian nodded Nighteye continued. "Hold out your hand to me and look me in the eye."

The younger man did as he was bid, and for a very long moment, Nighteye's eyes turned from yellow to purple as he scanned into Rian's future. After a moment, Nighteye blinked and smiled again. "Thank you... That was quite the sight. You'll end up being very useful to All Might, and have nothing to worry about. One day, you'll even be healed enough to re-enter the world."

Rian looked relieved, but hesitant. "But... Not yet... Right?"

The green haired man nodded. "Not yet. You have plenty of time, Mister Rian."

Mister Rian?!

The young man smiled, letting out a sigh of relief while Nighteye stood up. "That's good."

Toshinori itched for an explanation, but was gentle as he pet Rian's head. "Thanks kid. You're free to go make dinner now."

The brunette nodded, then politely bowed to Nighteye and hurried into the kitchen.

The second he was down the hall and out of earshot, however, Nighteye turned to his boss while looking incredibly strained and nearly growled out the most unexpected words that Toshinori had ever heard: "Always wear protection, All Might."

"............. Excuse you?"

"Sh-- He won't be able to handle the mental and emotional toll if he gets pregnant so you have to wear protection. Also, watch for violent tendencies-- towards other people, not you-- because he's better with a knife than he looks and you'll have to be ready to talk him down. Don't let Midnight talk to him too much, if at all. Don't force too much affection on him at once because he will inevitably reject it due to an almost impressive level of crippling self-doubt. Don't worry about how he will treat the green-haired boy, they will get along fine. And-- you know how much I respect you so believe me when I say this-- do not under any circumstances dig any further into his past and identity than you already have. He does not want or need to know what happened to his family. Protect him, All Might. He's going to be incredibly important to you."

The bigger man growled back, fighting off embarrassment. "Yeah, I got that from the fact that you just told me to invest in condoms! What the fuck did you just see?!"

"A thousand ways a broken person can break even more. And if he breaks, you will not cope well so do me one favor and please handle him gently so we don't all die by your hand. Something is very wrong with his timeline, just like with ours, but he's died more ways than I could even fathom. Those visions you told me about were the real deal, All Might."

The blonde stared. "... I'll do my best?"

Nighteye simply nodded, looking more and more spooked as he glanced down the hall. "You know my quirk is not supposed to work this way, All Might. I should not be able to see more than one future, and I did not start to until you met him. He's close to the epicenter if whatever is happening."

"But not the epicenter?"

The other man simply shook his head. "Not a single time did his quirk activate during the various number of endings I saw. He isn't the one doing it."

Toshinori sighed rubbing his face. "Alright... You go home. I'll take your advice, as always."

Nighteye nodded gravely, bowing just as politely as Rian had, then left.

The blonde adjusted his collar, choosing not to think about the fact that he was apparently destined to have sex with the twenty two year old he'd taken under his wing. His alternate selves had been cautious, dealing with the conundrum of their shared memories alone and eventually failing to reach a 'happy ending' in whatever game was being played.

He was not so stupid.

He'd almost immediately informed his old sidekick about the issue and brought him into the fold, working together to figure out the mystery.

So... This kid and I are eventually going to be life partners. Makes sense why I already want that ass... Maybe I'll bring in some flowers for him. He mentioned liking sunflowers a few weeks ago...

He smirked, heading towards the kitchen with a little more pep in his step, already committing to the younger man before even having time to think about it.

This time would be much different.

[warp--space]

I'm sorry...

"Damn, I'm sorry Kitten... Poor thing..."

Toshinori Yagi gently pet the bundle of chocolate-colored tabby fur, careful of the cat's potentially broken leg. He'd heard some other teenagers beating on something, but didn't make it in time before the small animal had taken some damage. The frightened thing had scored a couple bites and scratches against him... But he could hardly blame it for lashing out.

"don't worry... I'm here. I'll make sure you get better, Kitten..."

Amber eyes met sapphire blue, and suddenly the cat began to purr. The teen's eyes lit up as a grin spread across his face. "See? We can trust each other... I won't let you get hurt again. I should be able to take you with me when I move to America..."

The cat nuzzled his hand, and he gave it an affectionate scritch under the chin.

"Such a cute little guy... I wonder what I should name you. Bramble? Taro? Ryan...?" He frowned. "I'm not good with names."

But the cat said nothing. It was only a cat after all. Nothing more or less than a flighty little animal... But one that needed him. One that wasn't rejecting him.

"We'd been learning about other cultures in class while we study for finals, so how about... Rian? That's like Ryan, but spelled Irish."

The young blonde chattered on like that to the cat, taking care of it happily, even splinting his leg and promising a trip to the flat in the morning.

But...

"I'm sorry..." Toshinori murmured, holding the cold body in his arms. Something wrenched in his gut but he beat it down. The kitten had seemed fine when he went to sleep... But the blanket it had been laying on was stained with blood where its head had been.

"I... I wasn't prepared to take care of you. I didn't think it was so serious... I messed up, just like how I couldn't save my Master..."

He continued petting the scrap, his resolve strengthening with every second.

"But... Next time, I'll be ready. I'll do it next time. Protecting and saving everyone I can... With all of my might. Next time, for sure..."

Don't worry... I know you will.

[redemn]

❝        right  .      guess  you  can  find  all  sorts'a  conversation  when  you’re  at  the  bar  .        ❞        so  much  of  the  time  ,      he  grows  tired  of  the  subjects  wrought  down  upon  his  head  ,      annoyed  with  the  questions  that  are  hurled  his  way  from  bartenders  curious  enough  to  ask  and  weary  of  the  challenges  that  others  ,      who  have  often  had  too  many  drinks  to  be  deemed  advised  ,      place  before  him  once  they  see  the  revolver  at  his  side  .      it’s  a  refreshing  sort  of  conversation  ,      this  chatter  with  rian  ,      though  subtly  heavy  and  sad  in  its  delivery  .      he  may  be  quite  drunken-weighted  ,      but  he  can  still  perceive  the  shift  in  rian’s  smile  .

he’s  learned  ,      in  his  life  ,      that  travelling  alone  can  be  one  of  the  loneliest  experiences  .      fulfilling  sometimes  .      most  times  ,      arthur  does  what  he  can  to  get  back  to  his  troupe  .

wriggling  his  weight  into  his  stool  ,      arthur  leans  his  elbow  against  the  counter  and  balances  his  weight  on  his  arm  .        ❝        you  just  travellin’  through  ?      you  stayin’  long  ?      s’more  places  here’n  just  the  bar  .      i  been  wantin’  to  go  lookin’  .        ❞

PERHAPS THE OTHER MAN DID not realize how MUCH rian had actually told him of that night, that the death he was speaking about was a shrouded figure with too many arms and TOO MANY heads. that he'd laid there on the ground with a bullet wound LODGED too close to his heart, and had made a DEAL with what he thinks, now, was the devil.

rian shifts his weight on the stool, studying the other as he moved, and realizes that perhaps this conversation was not MEANT for here, anyhow. that he wasn't in the mood.

❝ 'm sure you will, partner. ❞

there's a faint smile on his lips, one that carries SADNESS around the edges that he hides by ducking his face, allowing his hat that is still on his head to do most of the work. ❝ no — travellin' alone, these days. ❞ when he looks up at arthur, there is a large grin on his face, but it struggles to meet his eyes. ❝ jus' passin' through, figured this place was as good as any. 'sides, wouldn't be here talkin' to you if i chose anywhere else. ❞

[karlachfan87]

[blackrevolvers]

I guess the Disney SW film team thinks there’s room for only one interesting/nuanced villain per trilogy.

[orange-yarn]

stonegrot week day 7: the future

heyo, friends. breaking my accidental hiatus to actually participate in @stonegrotweek for once! 

for the record, this is set in my strange trails “good timeline” sequel? you might be missing some context if you haven’t read the behemoth that is strange trails. you might be missing some context even if you have read it. that’s fine.

I wrote most of this earlier this summer, but spent some time editing & tweaking this weekend. please note: it is still very much a rough draft, but I have miles to go before I can actually post any sequel stuff on ao3 so that’s okay. I just wanted to share something for the event.

WARNINGS: some light sexytimes (there is actually a steamier version that will live in my google docs forever). also, mentions of childbirth (not at all graphic).

anyway, on that note, here you go. a little glimpse into a stonegrot future, in approximately 1500 words.

-+-

Jen turns three, and a storm tears the sky in two. Deet watches the sky growing dark, shivers when the lightning flashes and the winds howl. Rian knows she’s weathered storms before, in this life, and in another. She’s lived, and she’s loved, and she’s lost. This time, though, in this storm— she breaks.

“Tell me what to do,” Rian pleads, holding her hands tight, trying to hold her steady, to hold her to this moment, to this life, to him. He’s seen her scared, he’s seen her lost and distant, but he’s never seen her so desperate, and he’s afraid. “I’ll do anything, Deet, I swear it. Just tell me what you need.”

“I need--” Deet breaks off, her breaths gasping, her eyes wild. She’s clinging right back, clinging to him, and he takes comfort from that. “I need to know it’s different this time. I need to know this is real. I need to feel it.”

“This is real,” Rian swears, pressing his forehead to hers, hoping his gestures might match his words, but feeling like both must be meaningless. “We’re real, Deet. You’re real.”

Deet pulls back and looks up at him, close enough that their breaths intermingle. One hand comes up to cup his neck, and she runs her thumb along his jawline-- the other drops down to his belt, and then traces lower. She holds his gaze and says, “Show me.”

Rian denied her once, long trine past, and he vowed then to never do it again. He blows out the candles, and lets Deet lead him to their bed. He helps her out of her dress, and then everything else. She returns the favor and then pulls him down with her, capturing his lips in a kiss that’s as sweet as it is desperate. 

They don’t speak. Rian tries to prove with touch what his words cannot say-- that she is precious, that he is devoted. He loses himself in the moment, in her, and lets the rest of it fall away.

-+-

The storms come again, later that summer. If Rian didn’t know better he’d think they were still down in the Sog, battening down the hatches and weathering another monsoon. Winds howl and branches break, rain pounds against the roof of their home, lightning splits the sky as thunder rumbles in the distance.

Deet is silent for three days, jumping at every noise, staring blankly out the windows when she can’t keep busy enough for her mind to be still. On the third day, she puts Jen down for his afternoon nap, and walks straight out into the rain. Rian catches up before she’s made it off the porch, and tangles their fingers together, squeezing her hand tight.

“Hey,” he says, trying to calm the thunder in his own chest, his hammering heart. It isn’t fair, he thinks. It isn’t fair that they unraveled the world where he left her, but she still sees those ghosts. “It’s alright, Deet. I’m here, remember? I’m here.”

Deet opens her mouth, but her words are still trapped, still lost. She squeezes his hand back, and he lets himself relax, if only a fraction. Then she shifts her grip until she’s holding his wrist, and presses his hand to her stomach, holds it there. There’s no sign yet of the new life inside her, just a voice in the back of his mind that whispers three. Rian swallows, and Deet tries to catch his eye. 

For a moment, his words are trapped too. He wraps his arms around her instead, pulling her into an embrace, and wishing he never had to let go.

-+-

“Let me get this straight,” Naia says, dropping her voice low-- so the others can’t hear them in the other room, and so Rian will hear her frustration. “Deet suffered a breakdown, the worst you’ve ever seen-- and your solution was to get her pregnant again?”

“That is--” Rian shoots a nervous glance out the door towards the others-- specifically watching for the flick of Grottan ears. So far so good, he thinks, as their friends chatter around Deet and her swollen belly. She’d put off telling them until this trip-- Rian thinks she might have put it off longer, if she wasn’t already halfway through her pregnancy and very visibly showing. He wonders if she was trying to save them both from exactly this sort of conversation. 

He clears his throat and tries again. “That’s not exactly how it happened. She wanted another childling.” He thinks of that night, of Deet pulling him back towards her, her voice husky and her eyes on him, and only him, as she asked him to stay. “This was her idea.”

Naia stares at him, hard, for the span of several seconds. She’s clearly still frustrated, but she’s looking for a new target. “You should have come down sooner,” she finally settles on, nodding a little to herself as she sinks into the argument, like a comfortable pair of boots. “I could have been checking up on them both.”

“They’ve been alright, Naia. Everything’s been fine.” Rian pauses, and sees something unfamiliar in Naia’s eyes, a level of concern he hasn’t seen often. “What’s the matter? Why are you taking this so hard?”

“I’m not,” Naia snaps, and just like that her eyes narrow and her brow furrows. “You’re my friends, Rian. I want Deet to be well. I want your childling to be well. And I want the two of you to be happy.” She still looks cross, but there’s an honesty there that he appreciates. “Would you fault me for that?”

“Of course not.” Rian can’t quite help it, he pulls Naia into a brief hug, and graciously she lets him. Once he’s pulled away, he clears his throat and asks, “For what it’s worth, Deet’s going to ask you to help her again, when the baby comes. You’re the only one she trusts.” Naia’s eyes flicker again, with that same sad expression. For a split second Rian almost, almost understands why, and just as quickly, that understanding is gone. “If you’re up for it,” he adds, a little uneasy.

“I’ll be there,” Naia promises, her voice soft, her eyes still sad. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

-+-

“No, she’s right….here!” Deet says, guiding Jen’s chubby handprint to her side, her tired smile growing wide as his face lights up with delight. “Can you feel that?”

“She kicked me!” Jen’s practically vibrating with excitement. With just a few weeks left, Rian can see the ripples of movement in the taut skin of Deet’s round, heavy belly as their childling moves within her, apparently feeling Jen’s presence, and making her own known. Jen gasps, his eyes going even wider. “Again!”

“She’s saying hello,” Deet tells him, glancing over their son’s head to lock eyes with Rian. Her smile is warm, and just for him. She turns back to Jen, and reaches out to ruffle his hair. “She’s excited to meet you.”

“Are you ready to be a big brother?” Rian asks, flashing a grin of his own as Jen scrambles for the fair-haired little doll Deet made. He holds her carefully, just the way they showed him. Deet lets out a soft chuckle, and Rian leans in to press three kisses-- one to the top of Jen’s head, one to Deet’s lips, and one to her belly. His family, right where he wants him-- close enough for him to reach out and hold them tight.

-+-

“Why was that harder?” Deet asks, winded and breathless and a little delirious, even as Naia lays the infant on her chest. “I’d already done it once, shouldn’t it be-- oh. Hello, baby.” Her tone changes in an instant, complaint and confusion falling away as she smooths a hand across wispy hair, blonde streaked with blue. The baby blinks up at them with deep brown eyes. She has Rian’s olive skin and teal streaked across her brow. She’s beautiful, and she’s quiet. “Why isn’t she crying?”

“Just give her a minute.” Naia has a towel in hand, rubbing at the baby’s back vigorously. “She’s had a big day.” She helps Deet sit the baby up, and rubs a little more, until the little one lets out a watery cough, and starts to wail. It’s the best sound Rian has ever heard. Deet lets out a sigh of relief, and Naia grins at all three of them. “See? All is well.” 

-+-

They name her Shoni. She doesn’t look much like his mother, but it still feels right, somehow, to pass on that name, to let it live on through his daughter. She’s perfect, from her long, dark lashes to each and every finger and toe, and she and Deet are both perfectly healthy. It feels like a miracle.

“Thank you,” Deet breathes, in the quiet of their room, with their childling nursing at her breast, and snow piling up outside their window. “Thank you, for reminding me.”

Rian doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to. He just winds an arm around Deet’s shoulder, holding his girls close. Outside, the wind howls as the storm picks up, but for once Deet doesn’t shiver. She just sinks into him, her breathing calm and even. Rian knows that the struggle isn’t over, knows that more storms will come, that the two of them will bend, and may break. But for now, he presses a kiss to her hair, gentle, and grounding, and Deet closes her eyes, and rests. 

-+-

[cragsnow]

it’s cold on the beach this morning. the early sunrise is still low enough on the horizon that its warming rays haven’t yet been able to reach him, and his soaking wet clothes, now coated in sand where he’s been sitting since rian arrived, are causing his body to shiver uncontrollably. the jacket is helping, warming him slightly, but he’s still hard-pressed to stop his teeth from chattering. it’s not like it ever really gets warm on a tuesday morning in march where essex is concerned anyway.

the hand that grasps his own feels like more of a comfort than anything else has in these past few months. ‘ i’ll stop trying when you stop showing up. ’ he tries to frame it as a joke, but it doesn’t quite land in his own ears, let alone what rian might think. that’s something that he doesn’t even want to begin to ponder. what must this man think of him? his next words are tentative, making him sound infinitely younger than his twenty-nine years. ‘ …did it work? or are you just here to make me feel worse than i already do? ’

❝ HOWDY / @cragsnow .

THERE'S SADNESS IN HIS EYES, that's the first thing felix will notice. an exhaustion that reaches past the expression onto his face and overwhelms his BODY, shoulders drooping on top of a big black horse. he'd dismounted quietly, gracefully, and SAUNTERED over like he had all the time in the world ( and maybe he did ), before gently taking the other's hand.

they're on the beach now, the other man HUDDLED in the jacket that's been removed off his back. looking out onto the water, unable to explain the FONDNESS he had for him. just that he had to be there, WANTED to be there, until it was time to take him away. rian didn't know when that would be, but he was realizing very quickly that there is a dread deep in his gut at the idea of it.

❝ we gotta stop meetin' like this. ❞

[gothyanki]

[PRIMAL SCREAM]

[clumsyclifford]

route our way on maps of stars

happy new year everyone :) clambered spontaneously and with zero grace onto the new year’s fic bandawagon, no shame. this one is for @tirednotflirting in return for the one she wrote me, and also for @reveriesofawriter for no reason except that i love her and she deserves a jalex fic dedicated to her. i love you both.

anyway so this work of pure fluff is half inspired by new year’s day by pentatonix (that’s not the taylor swift one, yes it’s a pentatonix original song, and it slaps and it’s beautiful and amazing and i love acappella did you know that?????) and half inspired by nothing, just fluff for its own sake. but i promise you nothing but fluff here. here lies only fluff. whatever. i don’t know, it’s 5:45am and i am reclaiming my brand as a person who posts fic at the MOST inopportune (not to mention INSANE) hours of the day. what a way to start 2022. lmao

title is also obviously from new year’s day by pentatonix :)

tw for alcohol

read here on ao3

Jack is never going to forgive Alex for kissing both Peyton and Baz before his own fucking boyfriend. By the time it’s his turn, it’s 12:01, and frankly, the moment has passed.

He kisses Alex anyway, though, and like always, he’s smiling when he pulls away. They both are.

“Happy New Year,” Alex says quietly. His smile is just as quiet, private despite the company around them. Rian and Zack and Swank and Jeff and basically the entire All Time Low tour crew are crammed into their living room to celebrate the end of the year. It should feel crowded, but instead it just feels festive, a gang of overly-cheerful, half-drunk grown-ups ringing in the new year with cheap champagne and cheaper party favors. There’s confetti everywhere — that’s Jeff’s doing — and a constant murmur of chatter through the room.

Everyone is giving them space. Jack appreciates that.

“Happy New Year,” he answers, returning Alex’s smile. “And good riddance to that old one.”

“Hey, don’t be so dismissive,” Alex says. “We had some good memories.”

“Yeah, but,” Jack waves as if to say forget all that. “We’re moving forward. Leaving the past behind. Clean slate and all.”

A chorus of Auld Lang Syne has begun to spread through the room, louder than whoever’s performing for Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve. Once more, Jack suspects Jeff, mostly because no one else knows the words. It dies after a few seconds of attempted unison but it pulls Jack and Alex back into the festivities. Their private bubble pops.

That’s okay. There will be other moments for the two of them. Right now, they’re among friends, surrounded by familiar smiles. 

Rian has a piece of confetti in his hair. Jack reaches over, plucks it out, and holds it in his palm in front of Rian’s face. “Make a wish.”

“I don’t think that’s—” Rian breaks off, shoots Jack a look, and sighs into a smile. “Okay. Fine.” He thinks a second, then blows the confetti, which flutters to the rug.

“What’d you wish?” Jack asks.

“Don’t tell him!” Alex jumps in, then turns an affronted look onto Jack. “If he tells you, it won’t come true. Come on. That’s wish-making 101.”

“I know that,” Jack says. “I’m trying to sabotage him.”

Rian laughs. “New year, same Jack.”

“Baby seasons change but people don’t,” Jack says, grinning. “Hey! Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year,” Rian says, and wraps Jack in a bear hug. He presses his lips to Jack’s cheek, ever the affectionate drunk.

(Okay, it probably has nothing to do with the alcohol. Rian’s just like that.)

He hugs Zack next as Rian goes to hug and then kiss Alex. It reminds Jack that the usual New Year’s kiss tradition is for Jack to kiss Zack and Rian to kiss Alex, and his grudge against Alex for kissing the dogs first loosens a bit. At least Alex’s first human kiss was Jack. That’s pretty big. Alex loves a tradition, and it was nice of him to break it at Jack’s behest.

Finally he manages to hug everyone. Most of the guests are calling their Ubers now, except Rian, who’s staying over because he wants to, pretty much. A drunk Dan Swank throws his arms around both Jack and Alex and says, “Kickass party, boys. Happy New Year. Love you. Love us. Love everything happening here.”

“Love you too, Swank,” Alex laughs. “You getting a ride?”

“Yup,” Swank says brightly. “Jeff’s Uber.”

Jack almost wishes he could be in that Uber. Drunk Dan Swank in a car with drunk Jeff is bound to be hysterical.

Alex squeezes Jack’s hip as Swank waves goodbye and heads for the door, trailing behind Jeff, also waving. They’re losing people in twos and threes, but Alex’s touch reminds Jack that at the end of the night, they’re the last ones standing. This is their place. Their home. Confetti and champagne and all.

Right now, in the glow of the new year, everything around them seems to gleam with renewed light. Jack wonders if that will last through the morning or if it will be gone after sunrise. Will the world still feel shiny and new when he’s hungover and cold at nine in the morning? Or will he settle into the new year as quickly as if it were the old one?

“I’m gonna,” Rian starts, interrupting Jack’s train of thought. He waves towards the guest room, then frowns, furrows his brow, and waves instead towards the bathroom. “Teeth. Brush them. Is what I meant.” 

“Okay,” Alex says as Jack nods. “Don’t fall in.”

“That doesn’t even make sense,” Rian mutters as he goes. When Alex’s cheeky grin gets no acknowledgment from Rian, he turns it onto Jack.

“It didn’t make sense,” Jack agrees. “But I love you anyway.”

“Aw,” Alex says. “You love me?”

“Shut up.”

“We should make a resolution,” Alex says, without preamble. “A new year’s resolution I mean. Something we want to do this year.”

“Uh, top the charts,” Jack says. “Clean the living room.”

“A realistic goal,” Alex says, lightly punching his arm. “And not a boring one.”

“Hey, we could top the charts,” Jack says. “Maybe.”

“Jack,” Alex complains. “No. Something not music-related. Something for us.”

“Ah,” Jack says. He can think of one thing off the top of his head, but he bites that back and instead says, “Like for example?”

“Like…uh. I don’t know. Take a trip. Or. Buy a boat.”

“What? Buy a boat?”

“Yeah, I’ve always wanted a boat,” Alex says, completely straight-faced. Jack genuinely cannot tell if he’s serious. 

“What, like a yacht?”

“No, what? Like…a…one of the normal-sized ones. Like, with a top and a below deck and…a boat.” Alex is making gestures, but they are illustrating absolutely nothing, and his elaborate word picture is equally meaningless.

Jack grins and shakes his head. “You’re describing every single kind of boat.”

“Not a sailboat!”

“Okay, every other kind of boat.”

“It’s— you know! With a motor and a— I’m talking about a fucking boat!”

“I think you had too much champagne,” Jack says sweetly, patting Alex’s shoulder. “But I love how hard you’re trying to describe your dream boat to me.”

“I had a normal amount of champagne,” Alex grumbles. “I’ll show you a picture tomorrow.”

“Good, please do that.”

“Now you,” Alex says. He pokes Jack’s shoulder. “Resolution for us.”

“I need to think,” Jack says. He glances around their living room, which is now empty of people but full of confetti, empty or half-drunk champagne flutes, and a mess befitting the party they’d thrown. Jack remembers being younger, thinking a party was about the music, the drinking, the dancing; his younger self would laugh in his face now, calling this a party.

But it’s a party by Jack’s standards today. Comfortably tipsy with his favorite people around him, swapping highlights of the past year in anticipation of the new one with friends both old and new, warm from the champagne and Alex’s hoodie, he can’t imagine spending tonight at a club or bar. He would rather listen to any of his friends’ stories than a too-loud playlist of radio hits. Flashing lights would only give him a headache, and dancing would more than likely pull him from Alex’s side.

He’s happy at Alex’s side. He’s happy with their New Year’s party. This is all he needs. He’d like to think his younger self would be proud to know that.

“‘Kay, I’m gonna put this stuff in the sink,” Alex says, pointing at the champagne flutes. “You think and get back to me.”

“Ask me again when we go to bed,” Jack says. “I’ll help.”

They clear the glasses away but give up at the sight of the confetti. Jack turns the TV off and the sudden silence balloons around them. Rian comes out to bid them goodnight, then pauses and says, “Need help?”

“Nope,” Jack says. “We host, you guest. Go to sleep. We got it.”

“Okay,” Rian says. “Goodnight. Love you. Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year,” they both respond. Rian quirks a smile at them and closes the guest room door behind him.

Alex turns to Jack. “Can we deal with the confetti tomorrow maybe?”

“What, sober?” Jack nods. “Yeah, I’m with you.”

“I knew you’d get it.” Alex takes Jack’s hand and pulls him towards their bedroom. “Bedtime! First bedtime of the new year!”

“Oh boy,” Jack says, because if Alex is going to be keeping track of every single “first” of the new year, they’re in for a long ride.

“How about Switzerland?” Alex says, apropos of nothing. “For our trip, I mean.”

Jack blinks. “Switzerland?”

“I don’t know, we don’t really tour there. How many times have we been there, two?”

“Three,” Jack says. “Okay, true we don’t really tour there, but…random choice.”  

“They have fondue, Jack. They’re like, the fondue capital. And chocolate. Tell me that doesn’t sound like the dream.”

“Oh,” Jack says. Right now, fondue and chocolate sound like the best ideas ever created. “Wait. That sounds yum. I want to eat that.”

“Right? I want to eat Switzerland.”

“I don’t think you can eat a country.”

“Not with that attitude,” Alex says solemnly.

Jack giggles, and they set to putting on pajamas and brushing teeth in tandem. Finally there’s nothing left between them and bed but getting settled; Jack turns off the light and clambers under the covers. All of his energy seeps out of him immediately as he cozies up to Alex. This mattress is the best thing that’s ever happened to him.

“Did you think of a resolution?” Alex whispers. 

It takes Jack a sleepy moment to remember what Alex is talking about. “Oh. Um. Huh.”

“That’s a no.”

“No, hold on! Just give me a second.” Jack chews his lip. Thinks about festivities with friends and family, about Alex’s fingers pressed to his side, about rings and commitments and promises. 

“It’s been a second,” Alex says childishly.

Jack sighs. “Okay, we should…repaint our room.”

“What? With our arms?”

Jack pauses. “What now?”

“With our hands?” Alex is starting to slur his words, and Jack suspects he’s more tired than drunk at this point, or maybe equal parts both. “With our muscles? By ourselves?”

“You mean instead of hiring painters or whatever? Yeah, that’s what I mean. Like a project.”

“Mm,” Alex hums sleepily. “That’s cute. Except I don’t know how to paint.”

“It’s a bedroom, it’s not like…the Mona Lisa.”

“We don’t have supplies.”

“That’s just a Home Depot trip waiting to happen.”

“Ooh, domestic.”

“Yeah. Real housewife shit.”

Alex snuggles into Jack and kisses his neck. “I like it,” he murmurs. “Let’s do it. Repaint the room and go to Switzerland.”

“I’m liking the sound of this year,” Jack says softly. 

Alex only hums. He mumbles something that sounds like it’s probably “Love you,” and Jack smiles and closes his eyes.

“Yeah, love you too. Happy New Year, baby.”

Alex doesn’t respond, just kind of snuffles to acknowledge that he’s awake enough to register Jack’s words, and this time, when quiet settles, Jack settles with it.

[mrsarnasdelicious]

Restful Respite - Dark Crystal Polyship Fic

I also posted the on my AO3, but seeing as how I am never using that anymore, I'll put it here, too. Entirely unbeta'ed.

We're not getting a Season 2, so I'll make it up myself.

Ch 1: The Council

The first night, no one does much. They sit around their fires and talk in hushed tones. Rian is subdued and huddled into Gurjin’s side. The Drenchen and his twin speak softly to him, nothing is asked of him this night. Everyone understands he is worried for Deet.

Seladon also keeps her silence. She sits by a fire, with Baffi in her lap. She stares into the flame, thinking of her mother and Maudra Fara. A paladin stands behind her, keeping watch over her.

Brea sits with Kylan. He’s made her a special herb tea, to settle her nerves. They chatter about little nothings, trying not to think of what happened today.

Everyone heads to bed early, retiring to tents or cottages. Rian finds the cottage he grew up in. Gurjin follows him past the doorstep. “Thank you, my friend.” Rian whispers. He can’t bear to be alone, which Gurjin knows.

Seladon follows Baffi to Fara’s living quarters, insisting Brea come as well. A handful of Paladins station themselves outside the door.

Naia joins Onica to stand her by in her grief. The two women stay close beside each other.

The following morning it is Rian to address the united clans. “Why isn’t Seladon up there?” Onica hisses to Naia. The Drenchen shrugs her broad shoulders. Beside her, Brea keeps her tongue. She knows her sister is too ashamed of her past behaviour. Seladon does not dare to face her people.

“Gelfling! My People! Yesterday we began a rebellion. Yesterday we chose to face the Skeksis in battle. Life will not be easy, not a single day of it. But please do not lose your ways. Please continue to dance, make music and sing. But be aware, this is war.” He says loudly. Everyone gazes up at him in awe. This young castle guard changed into a war leader, almost overnight.

“The Skeksis will not attack us right away, but when they do, I want us to be ready.” He says. “The Drenchen are always ready!” Shouts Maudra Laesid. “So are the Dousan.” Maudra Seethi adds her voice. “And the Spriton.” Maudra Mera will not be outdone. “And I am sure so are the Sifan and the Grottan, but we have all suffered losses and our balance is upended. We must not only patch up those holes, but also find our feet again.” Rian says, in a soothing tone of voice.

“Today we send our dead back to Thra, tomorrow we set to work. We will train young warriors, fashion weapons and armour and strengthen clan bonds.” With that, Rian jumps from the dais. He gives no orders, but leads by example. He heads for where Maudra Fara has been laid to rest, with beside her Tavra and the other fallen. Seladon and Brea follow close behind him. Next come the Maudra’s and then Gurjin, Naia, Kylan and Onica.

The deceased are picked up by Paladins of the Stonewood and Vapra clan, and carried to the Thronehall. Barely a tenth of all the gelfling present fit in, everyone that does not stands outside. Rian stands in front of Maudra Fara’s throne, looking down upon the deceased and those who mourn their loss. “Kylan, if you please.” He says. Kylan brings his Firca to his lips and begins the mournful tune. This time Rian begins the song. His voice is amplified by the large stone hall. No one makes a sound, save Kylan. The songteller knows well to keep playing. Even if he too, is enchanted by the vulnerable yet secure tone of Rian’s voice.

Brea is the first to break her silence. She joins her voice to Rian’s. Gurjin, Naia and Onice are next and soon enough everyone joins in the song. The gelfling outside the hall begin to sing as well, as does Mother Augra. Never has there been a song of so many voices.

The dead are laid to rest outside Stone-in-the-Wood, under flowery hills. Tavra and Maudra Fara are laid under the hill with the other late Maudra’s.

“Thank you, Gelfling.” Rian says loudly. “Take today to overthink those we lost and to prepare for tonight’s feast, we will celebrate in their honour.” He ushers his people back to Stone-in-the-Wood.

He turns to Gurjin. “Bring me the Hunter’s mask, please.” He says. “Of course.” Gurjin replies, with a curt nod. He turges into the village to retrieve the fallen Skesis’ garb. Most of it will be burned, but he suspects Rian is planning something with the mask. The thing is huge even to the Drenchen, made of a weighty metal. He has to cradle the thing in his arms like an infant. The rest of the garb he just piles on top.

Rian looks pleased when Gurjin presents him the skull. The other garb the Drenchen has already been dumped in the burning pit. “So what do you want with this?” Gurjin asks, holding the large mask out to his friend. “I think I might hang it above the fireplace in our cottage.” Rian takes the immense piece of armour and almost drops it again, because of the weight. Gurjin’s hands meet his own, steadying him. “Don’t put a dent in the stones.” He says with a small smirk. Rian can’t help a bit a laughter, despite his mood. “I think you should give this to Mother Aughra.” Gurjin says. Rian makes a thoughtful little noise.

“Mother Aughra, Mother Aughra!” The Old crone looks up from her ponderings. She finds Rian and Gurjin by her side. Rian is tugging at her dress like a childling would and Gurjin stands beside him, his arms full of Skeksis armour. She recognises the Hunter’s mask. “We want you to have this.” Rian gestures to the mask. Aughra looks at it for a long moment. Then she shakes her head. “I don’t want it, keep it.” She says curtly. “Y-yes mother Aughra.” Rian stammers. He turns away from Aughra, putting his hand on Gurjin’s arm. “Come.” He says softly.

Gurjin follows Rian to the cottage they share. He puts the mask on the large wooden table. “You give that a place, I’ll start the preps for tonight. I’ll see you out when you are ready.” He says to Rian. Rian turns to the Drenchen and gives a small nod. Gurjin tucks a blue strand of hair behind Rian’s ear. Rian’s ears turn red and droop a little.

Gurjin heads out to oversee the preparations, dishing out a good order or two here and there. Even the Vapran do as he asks this time.

That night all Gelfling are gathered to eat and drink, around long trestle tables and cooking fires. The clans are all mixed, Drenchen drinks with Vapran and Spriton sits trading jokes with Dousan.

Kylan tells song after song and his Firca barely sits still. There are Sifan telling tales of the high seas. Bobb’N and the other Grot children are listening breathlessly. Brea spots Juni and her Spriton boy sitting closely side by side. Naia is boasting of her battle prowess to several Dousan women and Gurjin is being felt up by a Sifan gelling.

Rian and Brea sit beside each other, silently. They are comfortable with that, knowing each of them has their own griefs and pains. Grief and pains they can only handle themselves.

Seladon sits alone, gazing into her soup as if she is trying to make sense of it. “You should eat something.” She looks up. She looks into pale eyes, which could be pale green or pale yellow, she is not sure. It is the paladin that gave her a leg up during the fight. He’s taken off his paladin garb, he is dressed in borrowed Stonewood garb, which somehow makes him look out of sorts. It is as though grey is the only colour she could think that suits him.

“Paladin, are you off duty?” Seladon asks him tentatively. “Please, All Maudra, call me Maurix, for it is the name my mother gave me upon my birth.” He says gently to her. “Then you ought to call me Seladon.” She replies. “Y-yes Seladon…” Maurix replies. He pronounces her name like he is tasting tasting it, letting it slide past his tongue. Seladon feels gooseflesh rise up her arms and down her spine. As though the Paladin had just ran his tongue over the shell of her ear. She flusters and peers into her soup.

On the third day, Stone-in-the-Wood is positively an anthill with all it’s activity. Not a single gelfling is setting still. Even Bobb’N and the Grot childlings are trying to help.

The Red Paladin stands guard just outside Stone-in-the-Wood. There is a disturbance in the woods. He stands from the rock he has been sitting on and readies his spear. “Who goes there?” He cries out. There comes no answer, only more rustling of leaves and breaking of branches. And it comes ever closer. Maurix steels himself, ready for a fight.

But what comes through the line of young trees surprises him quite some. He recognises the stone creature Lore. “My Thra…” He mutters. On the creature’s neck sits an oddly well groomed Podling. “What is the meaning of this!” Maurix asks aloud. Lore rumbles at the Paladin. “Hup back!” Calls the Podling from the stone giant’s back.

“Pardon the sudden intrusion.” A Dousan steps forth from behind the stone creature. He is a gelling with a fierce and prideful look in his yellow eyes. “State your purpose here.” Maurix flares up, pointing his spear at the Dousan. Despite the unifications of the clans, old prejudices die hard, especially those against the very mysterious Dousan.

“I’ll escort you to the All Maudra now.” Maurix says. “Very well.” The Dousan nods. He turns to Lore. “Come, we will find the Princess and the Podling’s friend.” He says. “We’ll see about that.” Maurix replies. He shepherds the three into Stone-in-the-Wood.

“Where is the All Maudra?” Maurix asks an older Paladin. “She wishes not to be disturbed.” It is Mother Aughra to answer. Maurix bows for the crone. “Then what am I to do with these three.” He gestures to Lore, Hup and the Dousan. Mother Aughra travels her eye over them. “Bring these two to Rian, the stones will stay here.” She says. “Yes, Mother Aughra.” Maurix says with a curt nod.

The Dousan helps the Podling down. “Very well, it seems Rian is the next best, come on you two.” Maurix gestures. Podling and gelling follow him to the stone hall.

Within, Rian, Gurjin, Kylan and Naia are setting up a huge ornate table and majestic chairs. Maurix smashes the butt of his spear against the flagstone floor. The Stonewood, Spriton and both Drenchen look up. “I was told to bring these two to you.” He says.

Rian comes over. “Hup!” He shouts, lifting the Podling clean off of his feet and hugging him tight. Hup hugs Rian back happily. “Hey, isn’t that Rek’yr?” Asks Gurjin. “That is very correct.” The Dousan gives the Drenchen an acknowledging nod. “We were already looking for you between the Dousan ranks, but you were not there.” Says Kylan. “The Hunter held me up.” Rek’yr replies. He turns his head to the side, showing an ugly wound on his temple. “You should get that looked at.” Naia says gently.

“Kylan, could you bring Rek’yr to Onica, she will see to the wound.” Rian asks. “Of course. Follow me please.” Kylan gestures for Rek’yr to come with. The Dousan follows the Spriton out.

Hup tugs at Rian’s doublet. “Where Deet?” He asks. Rian’s ears droop. “She … she went away.” He mutters. Gurjin and Naia both move towards him. Gurjin places a hand on Rian’s shoulder, sending him a minute nod. “Deet took a lot of the blight inside her.. She went away to keep the blight away from us.” It is the first time he has said it out loud. He’s shared the memory with Gurjin already, but Naia does not know. She gives Rian a troubled look. “Deet locked herself away behind thorns, I can’t bring you to her.” Rian says to Hup. Hup promptly begins to cry.

Rian heaves a sigh. “Please bring him to Brea.” He asks of Maurix. “But .. I have been away from my post for too long already.” Maurix begins to protest. “Go back to your post then, Paladin. I will escort the Podling.” Naia says. Maurix nods curtly and takes his leave. Naia takes Hup gently by his shoulder and bring him out of the hall.

Brea sits with Onica, hearing her out about healing plants and spells. She is meticulously writing down what she is told. The Sifan elder is quite happy to regale everything she knows to such a willing ear.

“Princess Brea, Elder Onica, can I have a moment of your time.” Kylan interrupts them as politely as he can. Brea and Onica look up from their conversation. Kylan gives both of them a nod in greeting. “I have a patient or you, Elder Onica.” He says. He brings their attention to Rek’yr, with a gesture of his hand. Brea drops her pen and gasps. “Rek’yr.” She jumps up from her stool, the small piece of furniture tumbling over into the grass. Rek’yr bows for her. “Princess, what an indescribable pleasure to see your radiant presence again.” He cooes.

“Make him sit down and let me look at that wound.” Onica orders.

Brea retrieves her stool, setting it upright. “Please sit down.” She says to Rek’yr. “Of course, my lady.” The Dousan obliges. “Brea, would you mind getting me a bowl of warm water and a clean rag, please?” Asks Onica. “Right away.” Brea nods and quickly gets Onica what she has asked for.

Onica is cleaning Rek’yr’s wound when Maurix arrives with Hup. “Hup!” Brea cries out. She runs to the Podling and lifts him clean off the ground. She notices Hup has been crying. “Oh Hup, I am so sorry Deet is not here.” She says softly. She puts the Podling down and looks down on him. “I am ever so sorry. We will find her, I promise.” She says. Hup sits down where he stands and begins to sob again.

“He was so eager to see his friend again.” Says Rek’yr. “I know, Hup loves Deet so purely.” Brea kneels beside the Podling, not caring for the grass stains that will surely show on her dress later. She puts her arms around Hup and humms softly to him. Rek’yr perks his ears forward to hear her better.

In the evening the gelfling take their dinner in large groups. There is a table full with warriors, from every clan, boasting about their battle prowess. A table with song tellers who discuss specific songs and myths and how to perform them correctly. A table that seats only young women that giggle and gossip.

Rian sits with his friends and all six Maudra’s. Rek’yr sits with them as well, beside Maudra Seethi. And Hub, close by Brea’s side. Onica and Naia sit beside each other, discussing sparkly water. Naia vehemently insist sparkly water is just still water but angry.

The Maudra’s and Rian are discussing what needs to be done in the coming time. “The Drenchen will return to Great Smert, we can easily defend ourselves there.” Says Laesid.”And the Dousan to the desert, the Skeksis don’t come there.” Seethi adds. “The Sifan will take to their ships, only SkekSa sails and she hasn’t been seen in a great many Thrine.” Ethri agrees. Rian nods. “Very well, then only the Grottan, Vapran and Spriton will remain in Stone-in-the-Wood.” He concludes.

“That many gelfling will never fit in Stone-in-the-Wood.” Seladon says. It is the first time she has put something in. “No, it never will.” Rian agrees. “I will take the Spriton back to Sami Thicket. And also the elderly and childlings with their mothers, but I will need the strongest Vapran warrior to strengthen Sami Thicket.” Says Maudra Mera. She looks at Seladon. “You will have them.” Seladon agrees curtly. “That leaves only that fighting aged Vapran, the Grottan and what is left of the Stonewoods.” Brea says to Rian. “That is managable.” Rian says. His ears droop a little. Something doesn’t sit right with him.

“I will appoint Naia as my representative on the War Council.” Laesid says. “Thank you mother.” Naia gives her mother a minute nod. “I appoint Elder Onica.” Maudra Ethri adds. Onica and Naia share a small smile. “Rek’yr will stay on as my representative on the War Council.” Maudra Seethi speaks. Rek’yr nods to her gratefully.Naturally he would to stay, small surprise there. “My representative shall be Kylan.” Maudra Mera says. “B-but Maudra Mera, I know nothing of war.” Kylan sputters. “You have proven yourself a hero, Kylan. And you know the other council members, which is important as well.” Maudra Mera smiles at him indulgently. Kylan’s ears turn red as fire. “T-thank you Maudra.” He mutters.

The following morning, the Dousan are the first to leave. Rian and Rek’yr see them off with a lot of formal Dousan fare-thee-wells that Rek’yr has hissed in Rian’s ear. It is still pretty early and Rian hasn’t really gotten the chance to rub the sleep from his eyes. Heck, he has half a mind to go back to bed, to warm embrace of a certain Drenchen.

The Sifan leave after the communal breakfast. Onica whispers the correct fare-thee-wells in Rian’s ear. Rian by now has the chance to whip himself into some shape and drag a comb through his hair.

The Spriton leave a little past noon, with a good portion of the Vapran paladins. Seladon and Kylan both whisper in Rian’s ear. Rian is in his leathers, his hair bunned up and a streak of soot across his cheek. He’s been training. And a little too close to the remainders of a fire pit.

Last to leave are the Drenchen. Laesid hugs her daughter tightly. “Don’t forget what I taught you, this is the time to use it.” She says. “Yes Mother.” Naia says softly. Laesid then takes her son into her arms. Gurjin noses at her hair, drinking in her scent, that means so much as home to him.

“Now you listen here boy.” Laesid takes a minute step back, her hands still on Gurjin’s broad shoulders. “You do what your father taught you. And look after this here Stonewood.” She says. Gurjin gives his mother a wide smile. “I will mother. I will do what I’ve always done. I have kept Naia safe and I will do the same for Rian.” He says. “There is a good lad.” Laesid pats her only son on his cheek. The twins hug Bellanji farewell and say their goodbye’s to the Drenchen warriors they know closely. Rian seems to have perked up now.

Rian turns to his friends. “Go do your own thing for a while, I have something to arrange.” He says. Naia and Onica head off together. Brea skips off, dragging Kylan along by his wrist. Rek’yr bows for Seladon and Rian and calmly saunters off in the same direction as Brea. “I’ll wait for you where you told me to meet you.” Gurjin says to Rian. He calmly trails off, back to the center of the village.

Rian turns to Seladon. “All Maudra… I would advise you choose a representative for the war council as well, so you can focus on the more societal aspect of the gouvernance, a lot of changes shall have to be made.” He says, sounding rather shy. He doesn’t want to seem like he is giving the All Maudra orders. But Seladon regards him with a gentle expression. “Very well, what sort of person are you looking for?” She asks Rian. Rian makes a thoughtful noise. “A warrior with battle experience, with a strategic mind and courage.” He replies.

“I know one like that.” Says Maurix. “Now don’t get ahead of yourself.” Seladon chides gently. “Not me, All Maudra. But I know just the gelling.” Says the Paladin. There is a small smirk on his lips. “Very well, go retrieve him.” Seladon says.

Maurix returns swiftly. It is the Paladin who lost his eye he is bringing along. “All Maudra, Rian, this is Betram, I think he has earned his seat.” Maurix says. Betram bows for Seladon and gives Rian a nod in greeting. “Betram, how would you like a seat on the war council?” Asks Seladon. Betram looks surprised. “I .. it would be an honour, All Maudra.” He says. “Wonderful.” Seladon smiles.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Trip

Warning: allusions to nonconcent sex

I would like to ask for a Dark! Drabble Requests - July 28-31, 2020: Vacation AUs: - The reader goes for a midnight swim but isn't the only one with the idea, with Loki, please… @scorpionchild81 and @ladyacrasia

.-.-.-.

You hadn't been on a family trip since you were just a kid. Since then, your father had cycled through three different jobs and moved you all around until you were off to college.

Now, fresh out off graduation and hoping he could use he new favourable position to your advantage, this trip would be your chance. You hoped to convince him to get you a spot at the company that had given him a bonus big enough to see your family to a whole week at the upscale resort in the Carribean.

It was unlike any family vacation you'd taken before. Most of your childhood had been road trips and camping but now you could bask in the pristine pool and the mini-bar on your father's dime.

Your mother messaged you to come meet the family for the breakfast that would mark the true beginning and you were all too eager to have it done with. Your sister could take her brats elsewhere while you took your mimosa to the pool.

You were the last to arrive, your sunglasses pulled cooly over your eyes and a sunhat that made you feel like some old Hollywood actress, though your leopard print cover-up might have screamed Jersey Shore. You sat and ordered your first drink of the day and didn't miss the disapproving look from your father. Well, maybe you should try to butter him up before you got too wild.

"So dad," You smiled at him. "What I was saying at the airport..."

"I just don't know that it's for you, honey," He shrugged. "It's pretty cutthroat."

"Yeah, but you do it. Dad, come one, you used to be an accountant!" You argued. "I did that internship and I have experience."

"I'd hate for anyone to think--"

"Fred?" A voice interrupted your father and had you frowning beneath your wide-brimmed hat.

A dark haired man approached, tall and at least a decade and a half younger than your father. He smiled at you as he neared but focused on your father.

"So I see you took my recommendation," He slithered.

"Oh, yeah," Your dad shifted his chair. "It's a nice place. As always, you have good taste."

You glanced back at the rest of the table and your family tried not to stare at the stranger. You turned to him again and sighed at your father.

"Oh, my bad," He chuckled. "This," He looked back at the rest, "Is Loki. We work together." He turned back to the man. "This is the family. My wife, Talulah, my eldest, Riane, her children, Dana and Dora, her husband, Anthony, and my younger daughter." He introduced you last and you gave a wry wave.

"A wonderful family," He smirked. "I do hate to disturb you, just wanted to say hello."

"No problem. We'll have to grab a drink later," You dad rested his hand on the back of your chair. "Actually," He peeked over at you. "My daughter just got her business degree. We were talking about possible openings. No pressure or anything but maybe you could give her a few tips about getting a good job."

"I could offer a few pointers," He replied. "You know, Lorelai is leaving. She got an offer from Sterling so I will need a replacement."

"There ya go," Your dad announced. "Daddy's done his part."

You blanched, embarrassed, and smiled sheepishly at the man. He considered you a moment before tilting his head and refocusing on your father.

"I hope it wouldn't be remiss of me but we could discuss now," Loki ventured. "I was only just about to sit down and I would have her back shortly enough for your breakfast to arrive."

"You'd be doing me a favour," Your dad guffawed. "Take her. I have enough kids badgering me and this is supposed to be a break!"

Loki snicked and nodded. "Very well. Miss, if it isn't interrupting your own plans, shall we?"

"Sure," You said with fake glee as you stood. "Thanks," You grabbed your dad's shoulder and squeezed, "Daddy."

Loki waved you past to a table not very far and you sat across from him. He waved over the waiter and ordered a latte, you assured him you already had a drink waiting for you with your family.

"Do you mind working your way up?" He began. "I'm afraid the position is entry level but it does have room for upward movement."

"Of course, I would expect..." You took your hat off, feeling absolutely ridiculous. "I didn't expect to have like a private office. I'm a hard worker. I worked in a mailroom for a while and did some secretary work."

"Great," He said. "Unfortunately you would be little more than a glorified secretary at first but as I said, not forever."

"I could... send a copy of my resume. I'd hate to be thought of as using my dad to--"

"Not at all. Send it so we can file the paperwork but frankly, you're making it so much easier on me. I have interviews," He paused as the waiter set down his drink and thanked him. "Well, perhaps I shall see you around but I won't keep you from enjoying your vacation."

"Well, thanks," You stood slowly. "Enjoy your breakfast."

"I think I will," He smiled. "Though, we might just run into each other again. It's a rather exclusive resort."

;P

You were relieved to have something to look forward to on your return home. No more schlupping it in the bookstore, you would be on your way to something legitimate. Or you hoped, at least.

You spent your day lounging by the pool, the sun draining you as the alcohol seeped deep into your veins. It was the ideal day; lazy and careless. You didn't even dip your toe in the pool but there was always tomorrow.

Or tonight. You got back to your room, restless despite all the tequila. You were actually starting to sober up the longer you laid across the bed and stared at the ceiling.

So you got up and grabbed your room key and sandals and snuck down the hallways. The pool was closed so you kept on past it and ventured down the the beach where the dark waters crashed beneath the moonlight.

You giggled as you realised you only had on your tacky night gown with the pineapples printed all over it. You shrugged and tore it over your head as you slipped out of your sandals and dropped the card in the folds of the pajamas.

You ran into the waves as they flowed in and dove into the waters with the ebb. You swirled beneath the surface and came back up with a gasp. The water was brisk and revitalizing. You swayed with the quell and basked in the delicious coolness as your body adjusted to the temperature.

You dipped beneath the water again and as you bobbed back up, a figure came into sight along the shoreline. Naked and still slightly tipsy, you watched the man come into focus. You dove back under in an effort to hide and when you came back up, we was gone.

You looked around, searching for him along the beach. He might have just passed you by but he was no where to be seen. He couldn't have gone that quickly.

Then the surface broke beside you and you yiped as you turned to face the stranger. He smiled at you, his long nose and green eyes glowed in the moonlight. It was Loki and he was just as bare as you.

"Oh my god," You backed up and tripped on the silt. "What are you--"

"Seems like I wasn't the only one with a good idea," He cooed. "Don't worry, dear, can't see much..."

"Jesus," You crossed your arms over your chest and your teeth chattered. "You might think this is funny but--"

"I don't," He snickered. "In fact..." He got closer. "I think it's pretty hot."

"Wha- uh, look, I don't know what impression you got earlier--"

"Earlier? Oh no, but I like what I'm seeing now," He purred and caught you before you could get any further. His arm wrapped around you and he drew you close. You could feel his arousal against you. "Come on, this job could be a great opportunity and it does come with some amazing perks."

"Job?" You spat as you struggled against him. "I'm not-- I'll find something else. Let me go."

"Darling," He pushed his hand against your cunt and you squeezed your legs together. "Should I tell Daddy what you offered to do for this foot in the door, hmm? Your doting father wouldn't give you a job so you thought maybe you could coerce me."

"What do you-- No, you--"

"Shhhh," He forced his fingers between your legs and twirled you around. "We have all week to get you ready for your position..." He brushed his nose against yours, his lips tickled, "Oh, we can try many positions indeed."

[ooops-i-arted]

Child development/Dad-thoughts for Season 2 Episode 8???

Poor little guy.  He has to be so terrified and traumatized by the time we see him again - ripped away from his father by scary bad droids, threatened by Gideon and his scary black sword, weakened from using his powers and blood loss, and we don’t even know if he was awake for any medical procedures that surely would have involved his autonomy, personhood, and fears being completely ignored let alone scary ouchy needles/medical tools.  It’s hard to gauge how he’s doing since we don’t have the entire picture of what he experienced, although we can assume it had to be terrifying.  But when we see him again, he’s patiently sitting by Gideon, apparently having complete faith that Dad will come save him and defeat the bad guy.

I do feel this episode hugely dropped the ball by not showing us Grogu being reunited with Din once Gideon is defeated and Din unshackles him.  It’s such an important missing piece - last we saw Grogu was so terrified he was giving in the Dark Side and harming stormtroopers, then he’s sitting (I infer) paralyzed with fear/scared enough to be quiet and still because of Gideon, and next we see he’s tucked in Din’s arms again.  How was he feeling to be reunited with his dad?  Did Din comfort and reassure him (it would be ooc for Din not to at this point imo)?  Did he feel better knowing that Dad came for him after all?  Sure, we can infer all that, but it’s a big emotional beat that should’ve been present because it impacts The Big Grogu Moment we get later:  Grogu choosing to go with Luke.

I’m not gonna lie, I was really surprised the show went this direction since it seemed like they were setting up Din choosing to keep Grogu as his own and I have my reservations about the story going this way tbh.  But I think Luke taking Grogu (for now) does work.

Season 2 Grogu is a much happier, well-adjusted, and more mature child than Season 1 Grogu.  Season 1 Grogu was quiet, subdued; he had moments of comfort or testing limits but overall generally made himself less noticeable and was hesitant to indicate his needs or wants to anyone, even Din.  Season 2 Grogu is a much more average child; he knows he can indicate what he needs to Din and it will be provided for, even something as the simple emotional comfort of uppies; he chatters more often and isn’t afraid to be more curious, more defiant, and just express himself.  In Season 1 Grogu didn’t even ask for food - probably thinking he’d be ignored - he just caught that frog by himself; Season 2 Grogu has a loving dad who tells him “I see you’re hungry, we’ll get you some food.”  Season 1 Grogu generally just follows Din around, not wanting him out of his sight but rarely requesting interaction until the end of the season but waiting for it to be offered instead; Season 2 Grogu is always running to Din the second he needs anything.  Does trauma magically go away?  No, Grogu is still affected.  But he’s clearly healing and growing under Din’s care, and having a stable adult in the child’s life is one of the biggest things that can reduce a child being affected by Adverse Childhood Experiences.

Grogu seems to know who Luke is, or at least recognize him as a Jedi.  My guess is he did connect with Luke during the Scotty Beam Me Up scene.  So it’s not like a stranger showed up to take him away, this is someone he has “met” and “talked to”.  And since Grogu has the Force, he can sense for sure that this is a nice person and someone who truly can teach him, which eliminates some of the guesswork you usually get when a kid meets their new teacher/a stranger.  So while it looks to Din like some random guy just showed up for his kid, there was more stuff going on below the surface that Din (and the audience) didn’t really see because It’s The Force.  So it isn’t like Grogu is being sent off with the first strange Jedi who rolls up (like on Corvus).

Grogu certainly doesn’t act afraid of Luke or anything other than friendly.  The only issue is separating from his beloved dad.  Grogu will not go unless the person he loves and trusts most in the entire world says it’s okay for him to do so.  He goes up to the screen and almost seems like he wants Din to look and show him “This is an okay guy.  Look he kills things just like you, Dad.” before pointing and trying to get the adults to open the door.  And I definitely got the impression Grogu is calling or otherwise trying to commune with Luke through the Force, telling him “Hey we’re on the bridge, come save us and meet my Dad.”  So Grogu is open and willing to start interacting with Luke - as long as it’s okay with Din.  (And Din in turn trusts Grogu enough to open the doors when Grogu says it’s cool, this guy is okay.)

The #1 thing that makes Luke taking Grogu work for me is that everyone’s consent is involved.  Grogu may be a small child who still needs an adult guardian and guidance in his life but that doesn’t mean he should be carted around without taking his feelings into consideration.  This isn’t like a few episodes ago, where Din tried to hand Grogu over without really seeing if Grogu or Ahsoka were okay with it.  Luke addresses Grogu directly and treats him like a person, accepting that Grogu needs to be involved in this decision; Luke also addresses Din’s worries and even speaks up on Grogu’s behalf (”He wants your permission”).  Grogu is clearly open to the idea of going with Luke - if he didn’t want to, Luke would certainly say so - but also wants to make sure Din is okay with it.  And while Din balks at first, once he realizes that Luke can offer Grogu the training he can’t, he gives Grogu permission to go and even gives him a special good-bye so that Grogu knows how much he means to Din.  And the face-touch seemed to me, at least, to be Grogu saying, Don’t worry Dad, it’s okay to try and reassure him.  And Din tells him in turn “Don’t be afraid.”  The separation is hard, but Din and Grogu both realize that Grogu needs to be trained to use his powers safely.  They’re willing to do what’s right, even when it’s hard, which takes a lot of emotional maturity.  Grogu has certainly grown indeed.

Realistically this probably should’ve taken a lot more time - Din going with Luke to help transition Grogu - but 1. this is a tv show and 2. this is still better than small children usually get in media anyway, since people tend to lump anyone under age 5 as “cute and/or annoying prop for the adult characters.”  Also, we the audience know Luke (the real one, not the OOC Rian Jackoff version).  We know Luke is compassionate and kind and will take good care of Grogu.  If Grogu is troubled by leaving his beloved dad, Luke will do his best to guide Grogu through it, and I personally think that if Grogu ultimately decided this wasn’t for him and wanted Dad?  Luke would pack him up in the X-wing and fly him right to Din.  So ymmv but Luke training Grogu works for me and I think Grogu is in good hands.

I don’t wanna super go into The Discourse but since I know it’s gonna come up in the fandom and since I am a big Jedi fan, I’ll briefly address the whole No Attachments/Jedi Attitudes thing:

No Attachments refers to No Possessiveness, not You Can’t Love Anyone.  The Jedi don’t discourage compassion and love and even family ties, just the whole I’d Commit Genocide For My Loved One (looking at you, Anakin).  This post specifically refutes the comments Filoni made in the Making the Mandalorian show and goes into it way better than I could, if you’re interested.  I’ll just pull out this George Lucas quote: “But [Anakin] has become attached to his mother and he will become attached to Padme and these things are, for a Jedi, who needs to have a clear mind and not be influenced by threats to their attachments, a dangerous situation.”  So Grogu loving and caring about Din isn’t an issue - it’s only an issue when he’s willing to harm and endanger others over it (like choking Cara) or when he becomes so afraid he lashes out without thinking (the stormtrooper free-for-all).

Which is why it’s so important Grogu be trained by someone who knows and understands the power he has.  Even if Grogu still decides not to be a Jedi, he needs to know how to control himself and his power so he doesn’t hurt anyone.

Jedi are allowed contact with family and embrace their original cultures as shown throughout Star Wars media.  There’s no reason to think Luke will snatch Grogu and never let him and Din see each other again even if Luke did follow the prequel Jedi completely (which he didn’t in Legends anyway, which honestly makes more sense to me since so much Jedi knowledge was lost/destroyed by the Empire).

People have always been allowed to leave the Jedi Order.  If Grogu or Din decide “Nope, can’t do this, I want him back” Luke would 100% support them making a decision that works for both of them.

We follow Anakin and Revan because they’re interesting characters and because conflict makes good stories.  The Jedi Order didn’t work for them but most Jedi seem pretty well-adjusted so... I don’t tend to think Anakin is really the baseline we should be going by, y’know?  Grogu has past trauma but he’s been with people who care for him and listen to him.  And not to knock Din at all, but Luke being able to communicate with Grogu is a huge advantage and will actually probably be really good for Grogu.  So I think Grogu is in good hands and won’t be Ruined Forever by training as a Jedi.

And of course Din says they’ll meet again.  He promised.  (And Din & Grogu are Disney’s chief moneymaking duo these days, you want to make your audience worry about your dream team, not break them up permanently.)  So I think Grogu will be reunited with his beloved dad.  And while the parting was certainly heartbreaking, for now he’s in good hands who will help him continue to grow and thrive.

[nothingunrealistic]

tbt writing prompts! 12. rian billions

12. candles

Rian’s Bloombergs go black halfway through a line of code. This is concerning, but she’s reassured somewhat by everyone else’s Bloombergs and the overhead lights also going out.

“Fuck me,” Winston exclaims, the loudest voice in the reacting chatter. Rian decides she won’t respond to that now, tempting as it is. (Maybe later.) Wheels roll across carpet, and when Winston speaks again, his voice is closer. “This would be a great time to put your candle collection into action.”

“It might be if I had matches.”

(Send me a number and a character / pairing and I’ll write a micro story using the word or phrase)