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existentialterror · 10 months ago

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ARG notes: ZampanioSim

Okay, a work this metafictional and also that (I think) responds to audience interaction is going to need a high-caliber gimmick. Hang on.

...

Alright. Hey guys, catfishAnabasis (Light) here, taking a moment out of my surprisingly busy day tell you about a weird thing on the internet.

ZampanioSim is an intricate and brainbending ARG. It takes direct inspiration from Homestuck, The Magnus Archives, and House of Leaves, as well as the creator (JR, jadedResearcher/justifiedRecursion)'s previous canon of Homestuck fan-work and games. A major theme is "unreality".

HERE IS YOUR TRAILHEAD.

Feel free to ignore the rest of the writeup and check it out now.

I know very little about JR's other work, right now. However, among my many INTERESTS, I am something of a TMA ENJOYER and an AMATEUR INTERNET INVESTIGATOR, and if I were in a HOUSE I like to think I could LEAVE it pretty easily.

So, yeah. I figured I'd just describe my experience of this rabbithole and maybe you'll want to check it out too. I'm sure this will only scratch the surface.

ZampanioSim is structured as a nested labyrinth. In the same way that:

Homestuck is a webcomic framed as an interactive adventure game about an account of kids playing a video game (Sgrub) that doesn't exist, and

House of Leaves is a novel framed as a found scholarly discussion about a documentary (The Navidson Record) that doesn't exist about a house that doesn't exist,

ZampanioSim is a game-based ARG framed as an attempt to simulate a game (Zampanio) that doesn't exist based on a found FAQ of the game (that only sort of exists).

More concretely, ZampanioSim features a lot of nested browser games, as well as audio, narrative, an actual audience-interactive narrative game (the way Homestuck was originally), external websites, and more.

The starting point is, of course, the House:

ZampanioSim takes full advantage of the browser as medium. There is content accessible via the address bar, developer tools, cookies (I think), the developer console, and probably more that I haven't realized.

Like, to give you a sense of the kind of rabbithole we're dealing with: Here's a map I made of the House outset page today:

...And I say today because the House does change over time. Today (a friday) when I clicked on the EastEast route, for instance, I was greeted by this grotesquely distorted version of Rebecca Black's "Friday":

Okay, let's talk about what we have going on in the House map, starting from the doors and working out. (I've given some of these my own names for clarity.)

North

The Classpect Menu Game:

This, I think, is the main titular "ZampanioSim". It's the part that's intended to recreate the experience of a supposed old computer game, but by and large, you only experience the menu screen, not the rest of the gameplay. You can select attributes (based on Homestuck's Classpecting system + the Magnus Archives fears) gain points and select skills and (depending on your seed) eventually "beat the game". It's glitchy, it's a hellscape, there's an entity or two in the menu system that are trying to talk to you. It's great fun. Contains links to a rabbithole (which you can plug passwords into for more secrets) and + some secrets to you in the credits.

(While mostly the aspects seem to add flavor to the menu options, there's a special class called "Waste". This appears in neither TMA nor Homestuck, but comes from a fan or meta-joke that Andrew Hussie and Toby Fox, the writer and a major composer for Homestuck, are classpected* as the "Waste of Space" and "Waste of Time". By telling it you're a "Waste"you're more likely to get weird glitches and new options in your Classpect Menu game run - there's a fun recurring element in some of these games about the game changing depending on who you tell it is playing. I learned about the Waste trick from JR's youtube channel. Also, setting your birthday as Halloween might also do something.)

I have no idea if the different iterations of games here are substantially different. I haven't checked. There's a lot going on. "There's a lot going on" is a good summary of ZampanioSim overall.

*( Uh, classpecting is this in-Homestuck personality system where game players are a [Role] of [Element].)

Eyedlr: Eyedol Games is the company that supposedly made the original game Zampanio. Eyedlr is their spambot-filled tumblr clone, which also has secrets in it. (Actually, just assume everything has secrets out.)

East

The House Exploration game: It has the same setup screen as the Classpect Menu game, but this one drops you into a game with visuals: An infinite(?) procedural house you navigate with imagery derived from your choices.

Peewee's exploration game: When it's not blasting Rebecca Black's Friday But Weird into your ears, the EastEast route is another procedural infinite(?) maze, except that you type directions to Peewee, a snake guy with goggles who also moves around on his own. This one also introduces named characters we learn more about elsewhere.

Bathroom text: Procredural bathroom maze, unless it's just some text telling you to take a break. ZampanioSim really likes telling you to take breaks and hydrate, so that you can better appreciate and spread Zampanio.

Absolutely not. Also, I'm a busy woman. I have to finish this writing summary first.

South

The Train Game: a game - notably not a maze - where JR walks down a series of train corridors and monologues to you about the game and the "reality" behind it.

The mazecrawler game: You tell a little guy how to navigate an infinite(?) maze - and if you choose right and open up your browser's Console menu, you can learn a great deal more about

West

The only West route is AdventureSimWest, which is an actual text narrative game where readers submit commands that the author incorporates into updates - just like early Homestuck. It's still going. The logs are extensive but it's mostly about the antics of a new employee at Eyedol Games, which is stuck in a time loop.

Other

Then there's some other scattered clickable text -

The truth about alt: An exchange between two shapeshifters.

A transcript: A dialogue between two people who apparently work for Eyedol Games.

The lower left leads you to an apparently rotating selection of other Zampanio-related games. I particularly liked NagaGirlfriend.

None of this is even the stuff you can reach this page exclusively through the Console menu.

And much more

And there's a lot of stuff that's NOT branching directly off of the house. There's other things you find buried in links or by searching - a discord and a wiki that both straddle the line between in-character and -out, Archive of Our Own content, a youtube channel, the Eyedol website...

Is there a "story" to ZampanioSim?

Yes.

Like I said, there's a lot I haven't seen yet. But what's going on is something like this:

JR is attempting to recreate this game, Zampanio, of course, and tap into its fanbase. The game Zampanio is an infectious meme. Eyedol Games is a transdimensional company that is perhaps both trying to spread the meme and contain it, by removing its spores, e.g. the Zampanio FAQ - the thing that inspired JR to make ZampanioSim - from the internet.

Various parts of the game recognize that they are fictional and may identify you the reader/player as "Observers".

There are a few recurring characters who have gotten swept up into the meme, either working for Eyedol or trapped in ZampanioSim or both, and have followed it from variant to transdimensional variant.

(this is an image from homestuck. it's a reference.)

Japes aside, this is a brain-bending, very cool, and completely ludicrous unfiction project which I believe is made mostly by one person with an unparalleled hand for web sorcery, whimsy, and vibes. The vibes are so good.

The host website, Farrago Fiction (which AFAICT is a multi-person project), hosts a number of often-homestuck-inspired weird games and simulators.

I know ZampanioSim is now a few years old and is still actively updating. Consider checking it out.

2024-08-24 edit: Part 2!

#zampaniosim #creepy shit #light's arg notes #arg #unfiction #light writes #homestuck #house of leaves #light listens to the magnus archives #zampanio

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fairytales-and-folklore · 2 months ago

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Task Failed Successfully

The Owl House » Huntlow

Title: Task Failed Successfully

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: The Owl House (Masterlist)

Relationship: Hunter | The Golden Guard x Willow Park

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: Convinced she'll never feel the same, but intent on not keeping any secrets from one of his best friends, Hunter's grand plan to confess his feelings for Willow backfires in the best possible way.

Hunter takes a deep breath, studying each change in Willow's expression. In the last few seconds, her face has gone from pale to pink to a deep shade of scarlet, and for a moment, Hunter worries that he has made her angry, or at the very least, embarrassed her. Because of course he has. This is embarrassing. He is embarrassing. He thought he was doing the right thing, being honest about how he feels, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe dumping all of these unwanted, one-sided feelings on her had been a mistake, because now she's faced with the uncomfortable task of rejecting him, and someone as sweet and kindhearted as Willow should never have to— "Do you want to go out with me?" Willow blurts out in a giddy, flustered rush.

Read On AO3 | Read On Tumblr:

One of the best things about having a fully functioning portal back up and running (you know, aside from the whole not being trapped in another realm and having no idea if your friends and family are still alive thing) is that the demon realm has access to wifi again, which means Gus gets to borrow Luz's Netflix password and binge-watch all the popular human realm tv shows he wants.

It's become something of a tradition these past several months, sleeping bags strewn across each other's living room floors, all five of them crowded around Luz's old laptop, marathoning movies and mindlessly shoving popcorn into their mouths — a comforting bit of nostalgia from their time in the human realm.

But today is Luz and Amity's one year anniversary, and Willow had noped out the minute she found out the new show Gus wanted to watch featured some kind of demonic plant entity as its main antagonist (she doesn't need to give herself nightmares every time she goes to work in her greenhouse, thank you very little) so tonight, Gus sets up camp on his bedroom floor, queues up an episode of Stranger Things, and waits for Hunter to come over.

In the meantime, Gus is texting Willow, who has finally, finally admitted to having feelings for Hunter. Only took her the better part of a year.

See, Gus has known for quite some time now that Hunter and Willow have got it bad for each other (it's painfully obvious to everyone but the two of them.) And look, he's not interested in playing matchmaker or anything (he's not Hooty, for Titan's sake) but he does want to help nudge them in the right direction. Much as Gus loves his best friends, he's not sure how much longer he can stand to watch the pair of them make heart eyes at each other whenever they think the other isn't looking.

So he's texting Willow, telling her it's obvious to anyone with eyes that Hunter likes her back — boy blushes so hard whenever he's around you I'm afraid he's gonna give himself third degree burns — encouraging her to go for it and tell Hunter how she feels, but Willow won't budge. Keeps insisting that it'll just freak him out. That if he does like her back ("and that's a very big if," she says, and Gus has to fight the urge to roll his eyes) then she needs to wait for him to make the first move.

Which would be super sweet, if it wasn't totally a front for her own insecurities. Gus has known Willow for a long time, and while she's made some amazing strides in gaining back her confidence, evolving from the soft-spoken, brokenhearted little girl who used to let herself believe she wasn't good enough, to the strong, fierce captain of her own self-started team, fearlessly fighting alongside friends that she knows, without a shadow of a doubt, she could trust with her life…deep down, there's still that little tendril of fear, that what if that stops her from going after what she wants, if she thinks there's even the slightest chance she'll get rejected by someone who means the world to her, all over again.

And then there's Hunter, whose inherent lack of self-worth is so hard-wired, he won't even entertain the idea of asking. He just assumes unrequited feelings are an inevitable certainty, automatically rejecting himself before anyone else even has the chance.

At least, that's Gus's guess, but he'd like to think he's gotten pretty good at reading his closest friends.

He's about to text back something along those lines — a softer, more tactful version, of course — when he hears a familiar set of footsteps trudging up the stairs, and instead types out a hasty, "he's here, we'll talk more about this later," smiles at Willow's reply of, "sounds good, you boys have fun," and vanishes his scroll.

On cue, Hunter comes strolling into his bedroom, sleeping bag, pillow, and little pink frog plush curled under one arm, the other laden with all manner of tooth-rotting snacks, some of which fall to the floor as he hastily tucks his scroll into his back pocket. As he swoops down to pick them up, Flapjack flitters out of his makeshift nest in Hunter's hair and lands on the bed next to Emmeline, the two of them striking up cheerful conversation.

"Darius says I can sleep over tonight, but that I need to, and I quote, 'go to sleep at a reasonable hour or so help me Titan, I will go full dad mode and ground you, we don't fly coach in this house and those duffel bags under your eyes aren't designer'," Hunter says, huffing out a laugh as he drops his overnight bag on the floor and settles in at Gus's side, dumping all his snacks into one big bowl so the two of them can share.

Two minutes in and they're completely transfixed, concepts like sleep and dinner thrown out the window as they marathon their way through most of the first season, shaking each other by the shoulders as they shout things like run! and hide! and don't be an idiot, tell them what you saw! at the characters on the screen.

They're picking through the remnants of the snack bowl, playing roulette with handfuls of Skittles and M&Ms, when the iconic friends don't lie scene comes up, and Gus nods sagely, mumbling, "So true. What a lovely random moment of wholesomeness amidst all this horror and chaos," through a mouthful of rainbow corn syrup.

And Hunter just sort of blue screens because, well, shit.

Every once in a while, Hunter's past mistakes catch up with him, seemingly out of nowhere, triggered in ways he never would've expected (like, say, a line of dialogue from a television show.) It's been over a year since the whole recruitment incident, and he knows they've all forgiven him a thousand times over, but in this moment, Hunter can't help the guilt that courses through him when he hears the words friends don't lie, when he sees Gus so readily and enthusiastically agreeing with the sentiment, branding it as a law of friendship. He doesn't think he's lied to any of them since that first day, unless…

"Hey Gus?" Hunter asks, hesitant. "Do secrets count as lies?"

"Hmm?" Gus says distractedly, far too engrossed in the episode to give Hunter's query his full consideration. "I mean, I guess so. Kinda depends on the context."

Hunter mulls it over, momentarily panicking that he's been a bad friend this entire time without even realizing it, because, well…as it happens, he's kind of been keeping this monumental secret from all of them for months now.

But maybe if he just comes clean, it'll all be okay?

Oh, but talking about it is scary.

But friends don't lie, and if secrets count as lies…

"Okay, if that's the case, then I need to tell you something," Hunter prompts with the somber severity of someone about to deliver shocking news. He takes a deep breath, steeling his nerves as Gus turns to face him with a look of mild concern, and says, "I think I might have a crush on Willow."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Hunter winces, waiting for the inevitable fallout — laughter, ridicule, a lecture about how stupid and hopeless he is, or, oh Titan, maybe Gus'll give him the shovel talk, complete with a novel-length list of reasons he'll never be good enough for Gus's long-time best friend and honorary big sister — but to Hunter's immense surprise, Gus merely blinks at him, mouth curving into a smile that's half fond, half amused, and says, "Yeah, I know. That's not exactly a secret."

And Hunter panics even harder because what? He thought he'd been hiding it so well. After a bit of a freak out, during which Gus has to reassure Hunter that he hasn't been embarrassingly obvious about his feelings for Willow (a white lie, because while he's been obvious, Gus wouldn't call it embarrassing, especially since Willow is just as bad) Hunter breathes a sigh of relief, feeling like a Titan-sized weight has been lifted off his shoulders, and sets about plotting his next course of action.

"Willow is my friend," he reasons, twisting the ties of his pajama bottoms until the threading comes loose. "And friends don't keep secrets from each other, so I think…" Hunter swallows nervously, a muscle ticking in his jaw as he squares his shoulders and gives a resolute nod. "I think I need to tell her."

Gus purses his lips to hold back a beatific smile because this is it! Willow has been waiting so long for Hunter to make the first move, and now it's finally gonna happen! His best friends, falling in love and finally getting their shit together. This is truly a momentous occasion. He wonders which one of them will win in the fight to have him as their best man…

"I think that's a great idea," Gus says encouragingly, hastening to add, "As long as you're ready to. For the record, it's not a requirement of friendship for you to divulge all your secrets. You're entitled to your privacy."

Because ultimately, this needs to be something Hunter does because he wants to, not out of some misplaced sense of guilt or obligation.

Hunter takes another deep breath, much steadier this time, and nods.

"Thanks," he says, lips tugging up into a small, self-assured smile. "But I think I'd feel better if I did, so…yeah, I'm ready."

• • •

A few days later, Hunter comes barreling into Gus's room with a whiteboard under his arm, a fistful of note cards, and a foolproof plan. Tomorrow, after flyer derby practice, he's going to pull her aside, deliver his confession as professionally and succinctly as possible, and when (not if, but when) Willow politely rejects him, they can move forward as friends with no secrets left between them.

"So, what do you think?" Hunter asks, a little breathless after reading from a set of cue cards upon which he has handwritten some long-winded confession speech. Gus stares at him in disbelief, glancing back and forth between Hunter and the whiteboard, where two poorly-drawn stick figure representations of Hunter and Willow appear to be shaking hands like they're closing a business merger.

Well…at least Gus can say he knows his friends very well. He didn't want to be right, but…called it.

"Hunter," he says with as much patience as he can muster. "Buddy, I don't think you've thought this all the way through."

"What?" Hunter huffs out an incredulous laugh. "But I have a whiteboard! I made cue cards! I—"

"No, I can see that," Gus reassures him, pursing his lips in an effort not to laugh. "I just meant…I don't think this confession is gonna go the way you think it is. I think you need to be prepared for all possible outcomes."

"Oh," Hunter says, looking crestfallen. "What, like…you think she'll be mad?"

"No, that's not—" Gus falters, patience wilting by the second. How in the world is he supposed to talk date night contingency plans with a guy who won't even entertain the idea that this little confession plan of his might actually work out in his favor?

"Look," he sighs. "All I'm saying is…have you considered the possibility that Willow might reciprocate your feelings?"

Hunter stares at him for a moment, arching an eyebrow like Gus has just spoken some strange alien language and he's waiting for the script to finish running through an internal translator.

And then he's doubled over, bursting out laughing.

"Oh sure," he says, rolling his eyes like Gus has just suggested something utterly absurd. "Like someone as beautiful and sweet and smart and strong as Willow would ever fall for someone like me. Pfft. Good one, Gus."

Gus heaves a long-suffering sigh, resisting the urge to facepalm.

"I think you need to give yourself a lot more credit here, dude," he tries, but Hunter is already making his way out the door, still laughing, whiteboard and cue cards in hand.

"They're both utterly hopeless. Worse than Luz and Amity. I am hanging on by a thread here, Matty," Gus groans a little while later, sinking down the length of his bed and ending up in a puddle on the floor in front of his crystal ball, where Mattholomule's smirking face stares back at him, one eyebrow arched because seriously — pot, kettle.

(Little does he know, Matt has been dropping hints like crazy, but every time he tries to ask him out, putting all of Steve's dating advice to good use, Gus just assumes he's asking to hang out as friends. Honestly, it's a wonder anyone in their friend group managed to get into an actual relationship.)

• • •

"Alright team, that's a wrap for today!" Willow calls out across the field as she dismounts from her staff, beaming around at her fellow teammates, breathless but euphoric. "You guys did amazing out there. We're totally gonna crush Glandus at next week's tournament!"

She's about to head to the front gates, zipping up her sports bag and slinging it over her shoulder, when she rounds the corner and crashes face-first into Hunter, who stutters out an apology and blushes bright red when he glances down and notices that Willow's hands are splayed across his chest in an effort to brace her fall.

"Hunter!" she exclaims, cheeks flushed an adorable shade of pink from the efforts of their practice session, turning darker as she lets go of him with a breathy chuckle and moves to readjust the strap of her bag. Hunter has half a mind to offer to carry it for her, but if he's being honest, he thinks even the weight of a feather would be enough to knock him down right now.

"Captain!" he says, wincing at how loud and screechy it comes out. "I was wondering if I could talk to you about something…just the two of us?"

"Oh," Willow replies with a soft little gasp of surprise. "Um. Yeah, of course. What's on your mind?"

In the distance, Hunter catches sight of Gus giving him an encouraging thumbs-up, arm in arm with Skara and Viney as the three of them make their way through the front gates, leaving Hunter and Willow alone together on the field.

"Captain," he prompts, spine ramrod straight as he forces himself to maintain steady eye contact as a sign of respect. "It has come to my attention that friends don't keep secrets, and so I must inform you of a secret I have been keeping from you for quite some time now."

Willow arches her eyebrows, gazing up at him expectantly.

"You see, several months ago," he starts, so nervous he's practically shaking, palms sweating, voice cracking, full body blushing like someone's just poured a vat of fire bee honey down the back of his shirt, but somehow, he manages to barrel his way through it. "I became afflicted with an ailment that caused me to experience momentary lapses in cognitive function, heart palpitations, and fever-like heat concentrated primarily in my face, any time I found myself in your presence."

He maybe takes the professionalism a bit too far, diving straight into pretentiousness and speaking like he's from the Deadwardian era, but he thinks he still manages to get the point across well enough. He presses on, willing himself to get through the hardest part (i.e. the confession) without said heart palpitations and fever blushes tripping him up.

"Extensive research into the subject lead me to the conclusion that I had developed something called lovesickness, and that the object of my affection was— is— you. I had hoped that, in time, this malady would fade, but it's only gotten worse the stronger our bond has become. I think it's because…well, you make me happier than I ever thought I could be, and I—" he falters, heart threatening to beat right out of his chest as Willow's lips part in surprise, a soft gasp escaping them. "I've never been in love before, but I'm pretty sure this is what it feels like."

"So," he exhales on a shaky breath, forcing himself to keep going, to get to the part where Willow lets him down gently, reassures him that she'll keep being his friend, and then everything can go back to the way it was. "Before this gets any more out of hand, or you find out through some other means — as it has recently come to my attention that I am not very good at keeping feelings of this nature hidden from the observant eyes of our friends — I thought you should hear it from me. I hope that my candor will not negatively impede your life in any way, and that, now that it's all out in the open, we can continue to move forward as friends."

He holds out his hand, actually holds out his hand for her to shake, and for a moment, all Willow can do is stare down at it in utter astonishment, because what? Did that really just happen? Did he really just tell her that he likes her and then reject himself before she even had the chance to—

Hang on.

Willow's brain rewinds the conversation, zeroing in on one cardinal detail — I've never been in love before, but I'm pretty sure this is what it feels like — and a blush like a summer sunset spreads from the bridge of her nose to the tips of her ears.

Because of course he has. This is embarrassing. He is embarrassing. He thought he was doing the right thing, being honest about how he feels, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe dumping all of these unwanted, one-sided feelings on her had been a mistake, because now she's faced with the uncomfortable task of rejecting him, and someone as sweet and kindhearted as Willow should never have to—

"Do you want to go out with me?" Willow blurts out in a giddy, flustered rush.

"What?" Hunter blinks at her, certain he must have misheard her.

"I just figured—" Willow falters, suddenly unsure of herself. "I mean, I like you and you like me, so maybe we could—"

"You like me?" Hunter blurts out, positively awestruck.

"A bit more than like, if I'm being honest," she says, shy smile dimpling her sun-kissed cheeks, and for the first time in months, possibly his whole life, Hunter's mind goes blank. Blissfully, wonderfully blank. No thoughts, head empty, just her. All he can do in that moment is stare at her, a slow, utterly besotted smile spreading across his bright red face.

"So, does this mean we can be together now?" she asks, gazing up at him with a hopeful smile, sending his heart into overdrive. "Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

• • •

Hunter lays against his pillows later that night, not entirely certain how he'd managed to make it all the way back home after his brain melted into soup and spilled out of his ears onto the flyer derby field.

All he remembers is that somehow, in his delirious state of giddy euphoria, he'd managed to stutter out the words, "yeah, absolutely," and then offered to walk Willow home, singular brain cell zeroed in on the feeling of her fingers interlaced with his, how soft and warm and small her hand had felt holding onto his. Cheek still burning from where she'd stood on her tiptoes to kiss him goodnight, the way her dads had smiled at him and called him a nice young man.

He's pretty sure he's going to have permanent dimples from how hard he's smiling right now.

Hunter feels his scroll vibrate in his outstretched hand and absentmindedly lifts it up to check his notifications. There's a new message from Gus — "So??? How'd it go???" — and a notification from Penstagram informing him that Willow Park has updated her status to in a relationship.

For a moment, Hunter's whole world crumbles, heart sinking into a pit of despair, until he realizes, with no small amount of wonder— oh Titan, the relationship is me.

He didn't just get one date. No, they are dating. They are in a relationship. Willow is his— he can't even think the word girlfriend without breaking out into a full-body shiver. Of all the ways he'd imagined confessing his feelings would go, he never once considered the possibility that this could be the outcome.

Willow Park is his girlfriend.

He is Willow Park's boyfriend.

Oh hey, who's that blond guy walking down the halls of Hexside, hand in hand with the most amazing witch in all the realms?

That's Hunter, Willow Park's boyfriend.

He sends back a quick, "it went amazing, thank you for everything" to Gus, and then logs onto Penstagram, clicks the little heart on Willow's status update, and swiftly sets his own to in a relationship, wearing his brand new title with far more pride than he'd ever felt as the Golden Guard.

A few seconds later, a notification pops up informing him that hello_willow has just commented on his status with a trio of green and gold hearts. Hunter buries his face in his pillow, kicks his legs in a little flail, and lets out a hysterical laugh so loud he's got Darius knocking on his door a few seconds later, asking if everything is alright. Hunter resurfaces, rolling over and laying flat on his back with his scroll clutched to his chest.

"Oh yeah," he responds with a swoon-worthy sigh, beaming over at Darius with one of those rare smiles that puts the adorable little space between his two front teeth on full display. "Everything is just fine."

"Oh? Did something happen today after practice? Something involving a certain plant witch, perhaps?" Darius prompts with a knowing smile, folding his arms and leaning against the doorframe.

In lieu of a reply, Hunter buries his face into his pillows and resumes his manic giggling, the tips of his ears practically glowing bright red.

Darius chuckles, shaking his head in fond amusement as he closes the door behind him, murmuring, "Oh thank Titan, finally," as he heads back to his room.

The plot of this story was inspired by this post by lollytea and the title was inspired by this comic by moringmark

#the owl house #huntlow #hunter the golden guard #willow park #the owl house fanfiction #huntlow fanfiction #task failed successfully #fairytalesandfolklore #fairytales-and-folklore #fairytalesandfolklore fanfiction #fairytalesandfolklore the owl house #fairytalesandfolklore huntlow

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amb3rlance · 5 months ago

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The Art Of The Murdered: Flower bud (C: 2)

"なぜ俺をここに連れてきたのですか？(Why did you bring me here?)" Sousuke asked Giorgio

The detective looked at the foreigner and smiled "We're going shopping."

You're kidding.

"でははっきりさせておこう。あなたは俺が泊まっていたホテルを突き止め、ホテルの部屋で私が戻ってくるのを待ち、買い物のために再び俺を外に連れ出した？(So let me get this straight. You tracked down the hotel that I was staying in, waited in my hotel room for me to come back, and dragged me outside again for a shopping trip?)" the detective pouted "I wanted to tell you something but I realized I never got your number nor did you text me!"

Sousuke bows his head down "ごめんなさい、携帯電話を日本に忘れてきてしまって (Sorry, I forgot my phone back at Japan)"

"I can buy you a new one later" the foreigner swiftly lifted his head up "いや、そんなことは- (Oh no, you don't have to-)" the detective cut him off "So anyways, I found something suspicious" he grabs Sousuke’s hand "I thought it might be related to your brother"

"それは何ですか？(What is it?)" But the detective doesn't answer as they kept on walking to god knows what.

Giorgio leads Sousuke into a mysterious and empty hallway with it's lights flickering "While I was investigating your brother's case, I looked through the cameras in this mall"

"A stranger dropped something, and your brother gave it back to them, right?" Giorgio questioned him "はい (yes)"

"I can't believe I overlooked an interaction so unusual..." the detective suddenly stops walking and faces a door beside them.

He then tries to kick it down "何してるんだ！？(What are you doing!?)" Sousuke exclaimed.

The detective’s grin widened as he stepped back, shifting into a more focused stance. "We're going in."

Sousuke's heart raced, and for a moment, he considered running. The detective had acted so casually until now, but this sudden turn felt like a trap.

"The person who dropped something in the mall... they're connected to your brother’s case. And I’m willing to bet that whatever they left behind could be the key to finding the real culprit. Besides, it’s not exactly breaking and entering if nobody’s inside to catch us, right?" he faces Sousuke as he grinned.

Sousuke felt a wave of frustration and fear, but there was something about Giorgio’s calm confidence that made him hesitate.

Maybe, just maybe, this was the right thing to do. If there was any chance it could help Hebi, he had to follow through, even if the detective's methods were unconventional.

As Giorgio prepared to kick the door open, Sousuke could barely keep his thoughts straight.

The door swung open with a loud crash, and Giorgio stepped inside without missing a beat. Sousuke followed reluctantly.

The space was dimly lit, a dusty old storage room that smelled of mildew and forgotten memories.

Rows of boxes lined the walls, a bed in the middle of the room, a whole computer set up beside the bed with a 3D printer, and papers scattered across the room.

Someone has been living here.

Giorgio walked deeper into the room, his eyes scanning the surroundings with the intensity of someone who had seen far too many crime scenes.

He knelt by a pile of crates and started rummaging through them. Sousuke, unsure of what he was supposed to do, hovered by the doorway, trying not to let his nerves overwhelm him. "Over here," Giorgio called suddenly, holding up a small, crumpled plastic bag.

Inside it was a single, discarded object: a silver pen, one that looked ordinary at first glance, but when Giorgio turned it over, Sousuke noticed something strange—a small, almost imperceptible engraving.

Giorgio stood next to the computer with the pen in his hand "Did you know that with CAD or CAM software tools, you could conceivably create latex copies of someone’s fingerprints and place those prints on to objects that will hold them until they can be gathered by forensic technicians" Giorgio says as he turns on the computer "No password? This guy is a maniac" there was a folder called "Happy birthday."

As the detective opened the folder, his smile faded away.

"This is a list of all of the children who went missing for the past 4 years..." he mumbled.

Sousuke’s stomach lurched "Hebi gave this pen back to the stranger, right?" Giorgio asked, glancing up at Sousuke, his eyes sharp. "Do you remember seeing the person's face who had it?"

Sousuke tried to recall the encounter in the mall, but his mind was a mess of images "いや...ただ、彼らは手袋をしていて、服装で正体を隠していたんだ (No... just that they were wearing gloves and their clothes hid their identity.)"

Giorgio nodded thoughtfully, clearly deep in thought. "Gloves and hiding their identity? It's a deliberate attempt to avoid being caught. I was a fool for thinking I finally caught him after all these years"

"彼らは...兄を罠にはめた連中とつながっているのだろうか？(Could they be... connected to the person who framed my brother?)" Sousuke asked, the weight of his words sinking in.

The detective’s eyes narrowed, "The more we dig, the clearer it becomes. But I still don’t think we have all the pieces yet" he stood away from the computer "Let's get out of here before someone catches us."

As they walk out of the room, Sousuke suddenly felt something bumping into him.

"Owwww!" It was a little girl with short pink hair and a white bear hat.

"Hey, are you okay?" Giorgio asked, bending down slightly to meet the girl’s gaze.

The girl blinked up at him "I’m fine, I’m fine! I’m not the one who almost knocked me over!" she said, placing her hands on her hips as she stood up.

GIorgio kneels down to the little girl "Are you lost? Do you know where your parents are?" Giorgio asked the little girl "I'm not lost! I just haven't found my cousin yet!"

"Do you need some help looking for your cousin?" the little girl nodded "I'd appreciate it!"

The detective stands up "Alright little girl, tell me the name of your cousin and what she looks like"

"Her name is Albie and she looks like Princess Almond Blossom but with curly hair" said the little girl.

"Huh... Does Princess Almond Blossom have blue or green eyes?" He turns to Sousuke "なぜ俺を見るの？彼女が誰だか知らない (Why are you looking at me? I don't know who she is)"

"Ah... Well then- Wait where did she go?" the little girl disappeared "There! " Sousuke points at the little girl going to the candy shop at the second floor "How did she get there so fast!?"

"Outta my way!" the two men shove through the large crowd as they ran into the candy shop.

"Excuse me sir! Have you seen a little girl with pink hair and a white bear hat?" The detective asked the cashier staff.

"Are you her dad? Cause your daughter left the store with our most expensive cupcake just a minute ago."

"盗んだなんて言わないでよ！(Don't tell me she stole it!)" Sousuke panicked, the cashier staff looked at him in confusion "He wants to know if she stole the cupcake or not."

The cashier staff shook their head "Oh no, your daughter has been very good, I don't know why she'd spend all of her allowance that you gave her though."

"Have you at least seen where she went?" Giorgio asked "No, I'm sorry sir."

"I see, thank you," the two men walk out of the store, the detective sighs.

He puts his hands through his pockets, but makes a realization as he doesn't feel anything in his pockets.

He falls onto his knees, the little girl stole his wallet.

#the art of murder #taom #The Art Of The Murdered #modern au

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samcscreams · 2 years ago

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Inspired by the absolutely talented @dreamersbcll

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It had not been an easy week for one Sam Carpenter. Hell it hasn’t been an easy life for her either but that’s beside the point. Because here she is standing in front of her baby sister mouth hanging open, words completely evading her mind as she realizes she’s been caught.

Caught red handed.

No not caught with drugs.

Nor alcohol.

Not even a boy or a girl.

No, Samantha Carpenter has been caught doing the one thing she vowed to never do in front of her precious baby sister.

She was caught talking to her father.

As you see the week started off normal, Sam, on her way to work stopped by CVS to pick up her prescription. Only to be greeted with the worst possible news other than another ghost face attack.

“Sorry there’s a shortage this month. We won’t be able to fill your prescription until next week at the earliest.” The pharmacist told Sam

Sam just stood there

“Ma’am? Did you hear me?” The pharmacist asked

“Ya um sorry so there’s no way I could get anything? Maybe a different drug for the same thing?” Sam asked timidly. Her hands were starting to shake at the implication of not having her prescription for over a week.

“That would require a new prescription sent in by your doctor” the pharmacist said matter of factly

“Right.” Sam stood there awkwardly feeling like she should have known that and that her desperation was starting to become detectable.

The pharmacist looked over Sams shoulder and yelled “next” causing Sam to jump and hurry out of the building.

Getting back in her car Sam let out a deep breath realizing she hadn’t breathed since the pharmacist told her the news. She gripped the steering wheel to steady herself as she caught her breath.

Only her breath wouldn’t catch.

Great a panic attack just what she needed. Her vision blurred as her breathing continued out of control. With shaky hands she tried to grab her phone.

Tara. She needed Tara’s voice. It was the one thing guaranteed to bring Sam back. But her hands were so shaky she couldn’t put in her password.

“Fuck”

She exhaled as tears pricked the back of her eyes. If god was real he had answered her prayers. Her phone was ringing and Tara’s beautiful name was flashing across the screen. She hit answer and before she could even say anything.

“Have you seen my English book? I know I was reading it on the couch last night but now it’s not here. Did you move it?” Tara says in one big breath

Hearing Tara instantly brought a wave of relaxation over Sam.

“I put it on your desk in your room. Didn’t want you to forget it.” Sam said sounding almost normal

“Are you okay?” Tara asked knowing something seemed off

“Oh ya just running late for work again” Sam felt guilty it wasn’t a lie per-say but it wasn’t the truth.

“Why are you late again? You left on time. Wait I found it.” Tara told her sister

“Great you should try and keep better track of your books they’re ridiculously expensive” Sam rebuttal choosing to ignore the first part of Tara’s questioning

“Well maybe next time you shouldn’t move my books. I have a very intricate organization method and your honestly messing it up”

Sam chuckled at her sister’s comment

“Okay okay I’ll leave your stuff alone. But I would reconsider that maybe the middle of the floor is a poor place for a book.”

“Ya ya ya get to work.”

“Okay fine. Love you baby girl”

“Love you too. Bye”

And just like that Sam was as good as new. Well for the most part. Sam raced off to work hoping the day would get better. It was only Monday morning and Her stomach turned at the thought of the rest of the week.

Tuesday was normal until Sam was about to head home and her car wouldn’t start. Causing her to use the subway. Desperate times calls for desperate measures. She mentally prepared herself for the stares and interactions she might face riding the subway. Luckily for Sam she made it home with only a few insults thrown her way. But as she was throwing herself onto her bed she couldn’t help but to think this was tuning into a week from hell.

Wednesday it all started to crumble. As Sam was riding the subway to work that morning she was accompanied by her father. In every window and reflection he was there lurking in the dark. It was like he could smell her fear, using it to latch on to her like a shadow. Maybe if she wasn’t caught in a staring contest with him in the window Sam might have seen the three high school boys readying themselves to dump whatever drinks they had on her. Her boss didn’t appreciate her new and improved work uniform. She was sent home with a warning. She just hoped tomorrow would be better. She had the day off and could really use it.

Thursday. It was only Thursday? She thought to herself as she woke up. It was 5 in the morning and time for her daily run. She normally would run later in the day when the sun was more out. But sleep was evading her and running seemed like a sweet escape she couldn’t refuse.

He was getting louder.

She needed every distraction she could today. Unfortunately, Tara had her long lecture today so Sam would be home most of the day alone. She couldn’t tell if she was happy about that or not. Half of her liked the idea that she would be alone. She wouldn’t have to fear anyone seeing her in this state of mind. But the other half craves to be seen, to be taken care of as she slowly descends into her unmediated mind.

“You’re a fighter Sam not a runner. When are you gonna except that” Billy’s voice was low and sharp in Sams mind. She new better than to look at her reflection as she got ready.

Sam left a note on the table for Tara before she left.

Couldn’t sleep. Went for a run. Have a good lecture. Love you

Running was good. Running felt safe. Sam could play her music as loud as she needed and push herself until her body no longer felt real. It was a runners high and she was addicted. Before she knew it she was back at their apartment building out of breath and in dire need of a shower.

Sam left her music on for as long as she could. It didn’t fix the problem but it definitely made it more manageable. After her shower she was about to make something to eat when her speaker died.

“No no no no not now” she said rushing to try and find a charger or her headphones. Both items seemingly fell into a void and disappeared.

“Can’t tune me out now. Can ya Sam”

Sam rolled her eyes. Great now she’s interacting. She can’t do this. She knows she can’t.

“Really Sam you’re gonna just ignore me.”Sam used to be good at it. It wasn’t until she started to understand herself more that tuning him out got harder.

“You know that never works.” He knows just way to say to get under her skin.

Sam starts pacing around her room. Covering her ears as if that would somehow make it stop.

“Is this really any way to treat your father. You need me Sam. Without me you’d be dead. Tara would be dead”

“With out you she would be alive. Truly alive and normal. She wouldn’t have to watch her back every day. Her connection to you. To me. Is what puts her in danger” Sam snapped back. She was yelling at this point her anger was getting the better of her.

He was everywhere. In every picture frame and mirror. In every corner. It was all just too much. She tried to think back to the last time she was off her meds for this long.

The Baileys her breath caught at the thought.

“Let it out Sam it’s inevitable” Billy cooed in her ear

“I’m not like you. I will never be like you. I kill to protect. I was protecting us. I was protecting Tara. Don’t you twist it any other way Billy” Sam was seething she didn’t realize that she was fully looking at Billy in a mirror. She didn’t know when she let go and looked at him.

“Sam?”

Tara. Sam heard Tara. Clear as day. She turned toward her bed room door and sure enough her baby sister was standing right in front of her. How long has she been there? What did she hear? Fuck fuck fuck. Sam was starting to spiral. She needed to say something. Anything would be better than the silence that was pulling them apart.

“I can explain” “my class got canceled”

Both girls said over each other.

“You don’t have to explain.”

“What?”

“It’s okay. I’ve heard you before.” Taras staring at the floor.

“What do you mean? Why didn’t you say anything?” Sam asked searching her sisters face for any type of answer it might give.

“I don’t want to push you to talk. It just seemed wrong to ask”

Sam slowly walked towards her sister. Half expecting her to step away as she got closer. Tara only stood there.

“Are you scared of me?” Sam barely got the words out. Her voice was so hushed Tara almost didn’t hear her say it.

“Are you kidding me? Of course not. Why would you ever ask that!” Tara snapped out of whatever was holding her back. She was now holding her big sister her protector around the waist and looking up into her eyes.

“I’ve been a lot of things at you But scared has never been one of them. You hear me Sammy. Never.”

Sam couldn’t say anything. She just relaxed into her sister.

“Why is it so bad? Are your meds not working?” Tara asked hesitantly

Sam took a second to respond. Her sister seemed to know exactly what was going on. A million questions danced in Sam’s mind but that was all for a later date.

“There’s a shortage in the area”

“Wait here” Tara took off to her bedroom and came back with a prescription bottle.

“Here. Are these them?” Tara asked handing the bottle to Sam

“But how?” Sam looked back at Tara who was beaming with pride

“Do you remember a few months back you said your doctor sent your prescription to the wrong place and they had to refill it at the new one. Well I went and picked up the meds from the other CVS across town. I thought maybe I could have them for emergencies just like how you have my spare inhaler for emergencies.” Tara was proud of herself. She wanted to be able to protect her big sister just like her big sister protects her.

“You are more than anything i deserve my love” Sam said as she placed a kiss atop Tara’s head.

Sam walked to the kitchen and popped two of her pills.

“So what shall we do with the rest of our free day?”

#sam carpenter #scream #tara carpenter #they mean so much to me.#carpenter sisters

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saltminerising · 1 year ago

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1. In the midst of a lengthy ban explanation, the team member who wrote it confessed that there were several times where I broke the rules and they didn't ban me. (The accounts ended up locked for other reasons.) Was that supposed to make you seem merciful? Because hanging on to all that to trot out at the last minute comes off as petty spite to me. THAT'S why I'm leaving for good, not because I'm "out of second chances". Go take your unevenly applied rules and bother someone else.

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2. I wish FR would impliment a thing where you can just ask to have extra accounts closed, without risking your main. That would be nice

Or maybe an, idk, multiaccounter debt system, where all the stuff you've funneled gets given a FR currency value that you then have to pay off before you earn anything new to spend yourself. Probably wouldn't ever happen because it could lead to massive unpayable debts in the case of some things, but it feels unfair that literally any multi activity at any point of your time on the site risks a ban and loss of potential years of progress, even if they barely did anything with the extra accounts at all

Yes I'm aware they let you make a new account after but still. Sucks

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3. very respectfully i wish anybody who made multiple accounts without realizing it was against the rules a very get banned idiot. its right there in tos. literally right there. i dont even care if you were a wee lamb of 13. just read the damn rules!

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4. the fact that you can get banned for something you did 5-7 years ago is fucking stupid. they run such a tight ass ship for a game thats not even in semi-closed beta anymore.

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5. for the person asking about reasons for multi-accounting ; i have a dissociative disorder and often forgot my passwords/logins. these often came back recollected over the next few years. i'd log in to an old account, see i had currency, send it over and never touch it again. maybe not a super crazy reason for "multi-ing" if you can even call it that (and personally i dont even consider it funneling) but i imagine there are a lot of cases like this of just genuine forgetfulness.

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6. The multi rules are so ass bc if you ever accidentally break them u might as well double down bc ur getting banned either way

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7. when i was 14 i wanted to get rid of some of my dragons but i was still a little attached so i made another account and just sent the dragons to it and now they sit there......hungry forever.....anyway i lost the password and i only started taking this game seriously like a year ago but now im lowkey scared if i will be found guilty of multi-accounting and sentenced to death :)

#multi accounting

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green-goblin-59 · 6 months ago

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Log 004

Tw:contains mentions of sh and substance use

4/7/2005

«Yeah sure. Run a health check on my body too, please. I feel kinda malnourished.»

[SCANNING IN PROGRESS...]

<BLOOD: Average pressure. A peculiar variety of 3050 goblin serum and high levels of heroin present in bloodstream.>

«Heroin?! God we gotta get him off that straight away.»

<BRAIN: No signs of severe damage. Brain structure indicates trauma during developmental years. Chemical imbalance present: severely low amount of serotonin, almost nonexistent, possibly of depression is high. Fatigue and exhaustion also present.>

<BONES: Unusually strong. Lots of old damage. Metal bolts present in the knee and hip joints.>

<GUT: Empty. Gut bacteria is imbalanced. Vessel hasn't consumed food in two days. An old bullet is present.>

<SKIN: Dry and flakey. Scabs from skin picking. Possible side effect from drugs present in the bloodstream. Severe scarring on the chest and inner arms. Possibly from self harm. Needle scars on the upper inner arm and inner elbow regions.>

[SCAN FINISHED. OVERALL HEALTH: LOW. RECOMMENDATIONS: EAT NUTRITIOUS FOODS. AVOID HEROIN AND GOBLIN SERUM. DRINK WATER. SLEEP 9HRS.]

«Norm, how long has it been since you've been turned on?»

«So, you would have definitely seen where his needles and whatever he uses to harm himself are, correct?»

«I'll snoop around and get rid of them. Gotta get him clean and mentally sound. Norm, record new log entry.»

[RECORDING IN PROGRESS]

*Shuffles through the other mer's belongings*

This is the first time I've been fully sentient inside my new vessel. So far my new habits are more self aimed than aimed at others and the new vessel is clearly very mentally ill. Im not really sure where this place is but it's definitely not the same place I remember leaving behind. There's no firelight present, which is unexpected, as I'd thought resetting with him would mean I'd be in the same place as him. This doesn't seem the case.

*opens curtains*

Why's there really old technology everywhere?. Like... ancient tech I'd find in Bowes dimension? And why does this new variant of me keep the windows boarded up? Is he maybe in trouble with someone?...

*shuffles through mer's desk drawer. A thud can be heard as the bottom of the draw falls open and pens scatter all over the carpet along with a small leather bound planner. He picks it up and flips through the pages.*

I found this old fashioned journal. Reading through some of the previous passages isn't helping. I've got some serious issues. Something about faces and involuntary service...

*flips through more pages and skims over a few sentences, looking at the dates and seeing that it was all written in the early 2000's. It's only when he feels the dog tags around his neck that he realises what the insane rambling is about.*

Poor guy. I've gotta get him stable agai—

*eyes glaze over*

—in. AAAAA! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU ON AGAIN?! TURN OFF, TURN OFF!

[LOG RECORDING ENDED]

<<Previous page.

#mer osborn #the life of mer taylor #oc rp #mer osborn's goggle list #spider man oc #spidersona #oc log entry #SoundCloud

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powered-by-prower · 4 months ago

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Flashback: Gamma - Part 1

It had been a month after Perfect Chaos attack had ruined Station Square, and Sonic and company having been assisting in the restoration of the city. A lot of progress had definitely been made - Sonic's speed, Knuckles' strength and Tails' intelligence had all come in quite handy in the project.

With Eggman having gone into hiding after the incident, things were quiet, and with Tails unable to perform any of the heavy lifting... he couldn't help but wonder if the Doctor would have left his ship alone for so long?

It didn't take long at all for him to locate the Egg Carrier, and it was in pretty bad shape. Not only did it seem old and abandoned, but he could piece together some bits of information just from the state of the ship. Chief among them, there were multiple fights on-board this ship.

Sonic had told him about his fight against Chaos on the deck of the ship, but... did that account for the large chunk of the ship that had been taken out by an explosion? With so little information he couldn't have pieced together the cause immediately, but this wasn't even what he was after, anyhow.

It took some work, but he would eventually make his way to the Captain's Room. On top of having the controls to change the ship's formation, he would find a computer console. It was locked, but it was easy enough for Tails to guess the password. After all, Eggman had locked a room in this very ship with his own name as the password - he wasn't going to have great security now.

The ship had everything from the past few months - his plans on resurrecting and controlling Chaos, his plan to pit Knuckles against the gang, and even blueprints for various robots, including the E-Series robots. But then he dug a bit deeper...

MEMORY FILES: #102 | CODENAME GAMMA

It didn't take long for him to flip through the files and get a few answers. For starters, he found out what had caused that explosion on the deck, but more important to Tails was what lead Gamma to betray Eggman. He and the others were designed to be loyal servants, but the Doctor's robots usually share one fatal flaw - they have some sense of free will somewhere deep inside of their code. In some instances, it's useful to him - Metal Sonic shares a similar trait, and it usually leads to him ruthlessly chasing Sonic down to settle his "rivalry."

In others, you get Gamma. A robot that, if not for the loss of his brothers, would probably have worked quite well as a member of Robotnik's ranks. A whole squad of them working in a coordinated manner could have benefited his goals... but after seeing them all be disciplined after failing to find a frog, something seemed to trigger within Gamma over time.

Tails watched all the footage, as much as he could manage to with the ship's systems in such disarray. It was around that time that he noticed something from the front view - Eggman, flanked with a few of his generic soldier robots, having pulled up to the shipwreck in an Eggmobile. A newer model of robot, maybe? Smooth, red and uniform, with little faces on the front. Seemed like he was trying some new kind of robot this time around.

He didn't seem to have been caught, and assumed that Eggman was just here to try and finally collect on some things that had been sitting in the ocean all this time. Now in a rush, Tails decided to cut and run. He downloaded the files to a small drive, and decided to make his way off of the Egg Carrier. Perhaps these would be best looked at in the lab...

#the inventor | tails #the fox files | flashbacks

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azertyrobaz · 2 years ago

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Satellites (7/7)

The last chapter! And it's extra long, but also extra angsty before the promised happy end (I can't write sad endings). Hope you enjoy! I've wanted to write a reverse "Reckoner" (my first Mando fanfic) for a while, and I feel like I've finally managed that. See you soon for more adventures! :)

************

What if Grogu hadn’t returned to Din in The Book of Boba Fett? What if he hadn’t been given a choice? – Modern AU setting: Grogu is now twelve, and he has to rely on his memories as a young child to track down the person who changed his life. The only person he knows who will be able to protect him from the bad man. The bad man who precipitated his separation from the only family he’s ever known. He embarks on a road trip to piece together his past, and reconnect with the people who might help him find his family again.

Read below or on ao3.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

************

They slowly settled into a routine. It was now the middle of summer and it grew hot some days in the cabin, but the nights were always cool. Some nights though, the stars and satellites he stared at before retiring to bed didn’t quite manage to keep the shadows at bay. The ones that would come to his mind, unbidden, around 3AM. The ones that had teeth.

“Up already?” asked his father, returning from his morning run, drenched in sweat.

Grogu shrugged, his mouth full of cereals. He didn’t want to admit that he’d been awake since before dawn, unable to find sleep again, and had finally given up when he’d heard him leave. But something in his dad’s eyes told him that he knew – a tensed sadness, and Grogu couldn’t look any longer. Instead, he stared at the tattoo at the center of his chest: one of the newer ones, a constellation almost perfectly in the shape of a diamond, right above his heart. Not for the first time, he realized that the wound it covered could have been fatal, given its location.

“Shower, then coffee,” his dad said, and Grogu nodded. Maybe one day he’d figure out how to ask him about it. The operation that had gone very very wrong. But anytime he tried broaching the subject, his father would smoothly brush him off. And Grogu knew better than to push – they’d finally found some kind of balance, and he didn’t want to ruin it. What they had worked right now, and his father hadn’t once mentioned that he needed to leave or go back to the institute – he wanted to keep things that way. Forever, if possible.

“I think I’ll be done with Winta’s computer today,” he announced over coffee later.

Part of his dad’s current work required helping setting up new identities for people under witness protection, which he did through air-gapped computers – brand new laptops that had never been connected to the Internet, for security reasons. But this meant they could only be used once. Usually, he’d then wipe their content and either sell them again if it was safe to do so, or keep some of the parts, but he’d agreed one could prove useful to Winta, who’d been saving up to buy a new one with the money she’d given Grogu.

He had listened, fascinated, as his dad explained what he did, and learned a lot about online security, IP addresses, fake identities and VPNs. For the past couple of days, he’d made sure the laptop was okay for Winta to use, and installed some software he thought would be useful to her for college.

“Sounds good, then we can ship it tomorrow or something,” his dad replied, and Grogu nodded. He’d told him that as long as they were careful to use an untraceable PO box as a shipping address, it was safe to use the post. He’d also confirmed it was fine to send her emails from here, which he had done after digging up her address on her high-school website. His friend had been thrilled to get news from him, and he’d mentioned he was sending her a gift, but he hadn’t said what it was yet. He’d have to email her the password to log into her – almost – brand new laptop, so that might tip her off sadly. This was one of the last things he needed to setup, and he was having way more fun with this than he expected.

“Want to go to the mall before lunch? Then grab burgers?” his father asked as he was clearing the table – they’d been eating mostly in silence, but that was their usual way. Grogu forced himself to smile but didn’t look up. He was still out of sorts after his short night, and he apparently hadn’t been able to hide it. His dad often suggested trips to the mall when he thought he was too bored or too quiet. And it was true that he always felt slightly better afterwards. They kept going to different malls, but it usually entailed getting a couple of new books for him or a Lego, and a greasy but enjoyable meal somewhere.

“I think I’d rather go for a ride this morning,” he eventually said. His dad had gifted him a bike – a sturdy, second-hand mountain bike with thick tires – which had proven to be a wonderful way to clear his mind, and to discover the many tracks surrounding the cabin. He’d gotten lost a few times, but it had been worth it. He hadn’t made fun of him either when he told him he wasn’t very good on a bike – that was just not something they did at the institute, and he’d never really learned how to ride – and simply gave him pointers and advice to find his balance and slowly get better at it. Grogu was now a lot more confident in his ability and even loved going for long rides on his own.

He risked glancing up. His father stared at him with his usual composure, brown eyes unblinking, but he’d mechanically picked up one of his small notebooks from the counter. It made a tap, tap, tap sound against the wood. He was nervous, and craving a cigarette.

“Alright,” he sighed, with a forced smile of his own. “Carson might call later so I’d better stick around anyway, but we can make burgers for lunch on the barbecue. It’s a scorcher today, so remember to take some water with you.”

“I will,” Grogu promised, exiting the kitchen to get dressed.

************

Grogu biked aimlessly for a while, but his father had been right – it was only a little after nine but the day was proving very hot already. He thus made his way to a large pond he knew, and rested under the shade of a willow tree. He’d filled up his water bottle and put his current book – The Odyssey – in his new backpack, but he didn’t feel like reading. He didn’t feel like anything, really.

“He’s only going to blame himself if I say anything,” he told a nearby frog, who was also enjoying the cooler temperature in the shade. He’d discovered the frog colony the first time he came upon the place, but they had never answered back. Still, it was nice to pretend their sluggish croaks were them agreeing with him.

“He doesn’t want to know about my nightmares, and it’s not like talking about them helped a lot in the past, not really.”

Grogu had talked to a counselor a few times at the institute, but his nightmares had faded away with time. He thought it was exceptionally unfair that his bad dreams would choose to return now, when he was finally reunited with his father, the one thing he’d wished for for years. But then the very fact that he was here – and that he had been allowed to stay – was linked to Gideon’s return, so he guessed it made sense.

“I know he still feels terrible about handing me over to Doctor Pershing that first time, but he didn’t know Gideon was behind it and yeah, I also know he wasn’t such a great person back then but he did come back. And he came to my rescue as well when I was kidnapped that second time. It wasn’t his fault.”

He wondered who he was trying to convince. Certainly not the frog, whose unblinking dark eyes were slowly starting to set his teeth on edge.

“I’m sure the nightmares will go away once Gideon is caught, and Bo-Katan and Ahsoka are probably getting close, dad said they were following several ‘promising leads’ the other day. I’m glad he’s letting them handling it. And then once that’s done we can have an actual talk and I’ll tell him I want to stay and he’ll understand. I think he’ll be open to it. I think it’ll work.”

Grogu exhaled and picked up a flat rock. Maybe skipping stones would help. Maybe it would calm his nerves. Maybe if Gideon caught him the tests wouldn’t hurt this time. Maybe he didn’t need his blood anymore. Maybe he’d plug him to a machine and ask him to move objects with his mind instead, like in that Netflix show he’d watched with other kids at the institute. Or maybe he’d open him up to look at the inside of his brain. Maybe that way he’d finally understand his so-called ‘powers’ – what a load of bull, he was smart not magic. But surely that wouldn’t hurt because then he would be dead.

Grogu launched the rock with all his strength and the loud noise it made when it dropped in the water scared the frog away.

“Sorry,” he said to no one in particular.

He tried reading for a while but couldn’t concentrate on the words. He felt lonely and sad and decided to bike back to the cabin. He’d be able to read there, he knew. Even if they didn’t say anything – and they usually didn’t – knowing his dad was nearby was the only thing he needed. And since he’d mentioned that Carson might call, it meant he could be away for the night. He’d only done that a couple of times but he’d always been there the next morning, so it was okay. And he knew the work he was doing was important and paid for his food and his things.

Grogu convinced himself he would be fine on his own as he pedaled back home. His father would be bound to check with him before agreeing to anything – Are you sure you’ll be okay here alone? – like he’d done the previous times, and Grogu had known just looking into his eyes that if he’d even seemed unsure, or worse, if he’d lied, his dad would stay with him and refuse the job.

The area was secured, and he’d been shown on the computer how to access and check the alarms and cameras that were hidden all over. He knew how to shoot, and his father had even entrusted him with a gun of his own, which he kept in a special pocket of his backpack. He’d been given the combinations of all the safes should be need more firepower. He’d learned how to use the satellite phone and the CB radio. Grogu felt safe here. He didn’t fear he would be attacked. Even if his father was away. The only thing he feared was what was in his mind.

************

Carson Teva was a US Marshall. As such, he oversaw the protection of key judicial assets, managed rescue operations of fugitives, and supervised the smooth running of the witness protection program in the state. Through Greef at first, he’d started employing his dad as a contractor on several tasks. It had actually been funny to hear him talk so uncertainly and almost bashfully about it, as if Grogu was going to admonish him or make fun of him for working – for lack of a better word – for cops. People his father had been careful to avoid back when Grogu was younger, if not openly bad-mouth.

But this had been then and this was now, and there was no mistaking the fact that his dad was and had always been very good at what he did – finding people. And thus, unsurprisingly, helping them stay hidden as well. Not only that, it seemed clear to Grogu that he liked what he was doing. And what he liked even better (obviously) was for an entity that had done its best in the past to try – and fail – to catch him red-handed in some unsavory scheme to now pay him actual money for his services.

He hadn’t met Carson yet, but he now recognized his voice, which welcomed him back when he returned to the cabin. Grogu couldn’t hear their actual conversation – his father had taken the conference call in his room – but he enjoyed the background noise it created as he settled on the small living room sofa to work on Winta’s computer. This was a safe sound.

Over lunch, his father predictably announced that he would need to be away for the night, but for the first time, when Grogu asked him if he would be back the next morning as usual, he hesitated before replying.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “This one might take a little longer, but you can of course call me on the sat phone if there’s anything. Is that okay?” Piercing eyes staring into his and making sure he wouldn’t lie.

“It’ll be fine,” Grogu replied calmly, scratching his wrist – the watch his father had let him keep felt heavy and uncomfortable all of a sudden. “I have food for days,” he joked – they’d cooked way too much meat on the barbecue.

“Sure?”

“Certain. As long as you promise to take Winta’s laptop with you, it’s ready to be shipped,” he added.

“Deal,” his father easily agreed, and finally stopped looking at him. Grogu had the vague impression that he also didn’t want him to stare at him too closely, but the feeling passed and they had coffee followed by an easy afternoon until his departure.

Grogu spent the night on the roof – it was still hot in the cabin, too hot to find sleep comfortably, and he wanted to be that much closer in case his dad returned early the next morning.

He didn’t.

With leftover burgers for lunch, Grogu decided it was still too soon to start to worry, but he kept the surveillance laptop open, so that he could see all the camera feeds from outside. Just in case. He tried to read, work on a Lego, figure out what to tell Winta in his next email…but nothing managed to hold his attention for long. He kept looking at the door of his father’s room, as if he would suddenly come out.

By evening, he decided to have a look inside. He usually didn’t venture there, even during the other times his dad had been away, feeling like an intruder, but today was different, and he was starting to feel a little scared. He hoped he’d be able to feel his presence there and ease his anxious mind.

He stared at the constellation map for a long time, tracing familiar patterns. He felt like he was missing something – something crucial. But he couldn’t focus on anything except his mounting worry. Sitting on his dad’s impeccably made bed, he took in deep, calming breaths. His eyes settled on the collection of small notebooks above his desk – the kind he always carried around, pocket-sized, with a plain black rigid cover. He knew he’d find his drawings in there, and he wasn’t disappointed. Doodles of creatures – real or invented ones – covered most pages. Neatly written notes of what he expected to be surveillance jobs. Sketches of places. Drawn maps. Random numbers and calculations.

There were no dates or addresses or important information that could be used in case someone came upon those notebooks, but Grogu still managed to find older ones, from several years back. The drawings clued him in – he could see how he’d decided which tattoos to get to cover injuries he’d sustained during the two years they spent together. There were even sketches of him – sleeping in the car, playing on the beach, eating a waffle… He’d forgotten those moments, but seeing them now on the page, he remembered.

In the next few notebooks, the doodles and sketches had disappeared. He saw a lot of gaps, strikethrough text, half erased words and incomplete sentences. The few drawings were messy and abandoned halfway through. Grogu didn’t have to figure out long when those entries had been made, as he came upon the start of a couple of letters, which had clearly been thought about and amended several times, but never sent:

Kid Dear Grogu,

Skywalker said I could write to you How are you? You must be learning tons and I hope you’re getting plenty of food and becoming smarter and bigger every day. If you want to I was wondering whether you wanted

Grogu,

Hopefully you’re not too angry I thought now was a good time to reach out, because I wanted to ask you if

Grogu swallowed hard and closed the notebook. He felt like he had just read something he definitely shouldn’t have. Something so private he wanted to burst into flames and disappear through the cracks in the floorboard. But he’d seen his name and –

Why hadn’t he sent those letters? Why hadn’t he reached out? Why hadn’t he said anything now that he was back? And where the hell was he? Why hadn’t he come back yet? Had something happened? Something bad? Was it all too late to say anything now? Was he injured? Dead?

Shaking with fear, hot tears blinding him as he stepped out of the room, he checked the surveillance laptop again. All the cameras. All the angles. Made sure all the alarms were working. He inhaled deeply and reached for the satellite phone. Its twin was with his dad. There was no answer after he let it ring for a full minute. He waited for 5 minutes then called again. Then again. Nothing. He couldn’t text or leave a message, but then he had no idea what he would say. Should he give him one more night or should he really start to freak out?

Grogu reached for the CB radio and used the code his father had taught him to call Greef. He hadn’t seen his dad, and he hadn’t heard from Carson either, but he was supposed to meet with him the next morning. He offered to come to the cabin, but Grogu refused – he could take care of himself.

He forced himself to eat dinner, then grabbed the binoculars and the surveillance laptop, and climbed on the roof. Grogu didn’t sleep and his father didn’t return.

At dawn, he put food, water, the sat phone, a change of clothes and extra ammo for his gun in his backpack, then waited until there was just enough light and climbed on his bike. He’d be in Nevarro in just under two hours.

************

“ – think that’s where he might be?”

A man was talking to Greef at the door of his office – his assistant had been kind enough to let him through, but then he’d probably looked quite the sight with his wind-swept hair, and she took pity on him. Grogu thought he recognized his voice.

“Are you Carson Teva?” he asked, unconcerned about the conversation he was interrupting.

“Who’s asking?” the balding man with the grey beard answered.

“I’m Grogu. Din Djarin’s…son.”

“I didn’t know he had a son, but I guess it makes sense.”

Grogu didn’t have time to ask him what he meant by that. He still hadn’t even told him if he was Carson Teva, but his voice was really familiar.

“If you’re Carson Teva, then can you tell me where you sent him? He’s not picking up his phone and he should be home by now.”

“I didn’t send him anywhere.”

Grogu started breathing a little faster – a feat, since he still hadn’t gotten his breath back from his bike ride. “The other day, your call, I heard you. And then he left. He said he had to work. Where is he?”

But Grogu already knew what his answer would be, because he’d just realized something – something that threatened to turn his worry into full-blown terror. His father had never explicitly said he was off to work on a job for Carson. Grogu had just assumed. As his dad knew he would. ‘This one might take a little longer.’

“I don’t know where he is, kid. I’m sorry. I’m also looking for him. I thought Karga would know, that’s why I’m here.”

“And I don’t either,” said Greef, looking pained, and this time Grogu decided he needed to sit down. Which he did. On the floor. Then ran his hands over his face and blocked his ears so that he wouldn’t have to listen to Carson and Greef’s panicked exclamations as they rushed to his side. He needed to think. And breathe. Not burst into tears.

He could do this. He could figure out where his father had gone. He was counting on him.

“I’m fine,” he eventually mumbled, standing up shakily, ignoring the two men pressing questions. They shouldn’t focus on him, they should focus on finding where his dad was. They were running out of time – he’d been gone for over 24 hours.

“What were you talking about that last time on the phone?” he asked Carson, staring at the floor through burning eyes.

“The next job I needed his help on. He was supposed to do some surveillance for me today.”

“So nothing about…” And there Grogu hesitated and looked towards Greef, who knew the most about his situation, but apparently he needn’t have worried.

“Nothing about Moff Gideon,” Carson confirmed.

“He didn’t say anything to me either, kid,” Greef added. “Only that Bo-Katan was still working on some leads in the Midwest.”

“I know Ahsoka Tano is on a job not far from here – ”

But Grogu had stopped listening again. This wasn’t helping. He didn’t have time to stop and wonder why Carson, Bo and Ahsoka all seemed to know each other either. Was his father investigating alone? Was he working on something completely unrelated? Had he simply broken down somewhere? Been in an accident? Was he injured? Dying in some random hospital?

“ – she asked me about abandoned or disused labs in the region.”

“Labs?” Grogu interrupted Carson again, the word one he disliked profoundly. That stopped his mind from going somewhere even darker – he’d been there before. He’d been certain his father was dead once already. He couldn’t go through it again.

“Tano seemed to think it was relevant,” the man replied patiently, keenly aware of his distress. “That Gideon might be trying to recruit a new team of scientists and rebuild. But there were so many possibilities. The state is full of places that would fit the bill.”

Grogu started walking again and let the two men talk, his legs stiff and uncooperative. He couldn’t stay still.

“I’ll call her,” Carson said, phone in hand, presumably talking about Ahsoka still.

He breathed out deeply and forced himself to stand still and listen to their conversation, hands deep in his pockets to stop them from shaking. He could feel tears threatening to spill from his eyes again – he couldn’t cry in front of them. If he showed weakness they’d start wondering what the hell a twelve-year old kid was doing here asking all those questions. Carson was a cop. He had the authority to send him back to the institute, or worse. His dad hadn’t told him about his existence or about him staying at the cabin, which had been the smart move. Even if it made him a little sad.

The conversation proved short, and Grogu knew what her answer had been even before Carson hung up, but at least she’d picked up. Greef was also on the phone, and equally unsuccessful.

“Tano doesn’t know where he could be either, he hasn’t mentioned he was investigating Gideon to her,” Carson related.

“Bo-Katan and her team haven’t heard from him,” Greef added.

“What do you think, kid? Would he be investigating this alone? Did he tell you anything?”

Grogu stared at Carson. Equally proud and terrified to be asked such a question.

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly after a beat. “But I do think he was hiding something from me.”

The half-truths. The stares. The worry.

Grogu’s right fist tightened around the crumpled bills in his pocket. He’d mechanically grabbed the cash he still had from Winta before leaving the cabin – just in case. How far could he go with $400 before he was caught? But that suddenly gave him an idea.

Winta.

“Let me use your phone!” he asked Greef, running towards him. The man didn’t question his request, seeing the wild look in his eyes, and handed him his phone, unlocked.

There was one program he hadn’t removed from Winta’s laptop, thinking she might find it useful, and it should still work with the credentials he’d used – unless she’d received the computer already, but Grogu doubted this very much. Or at least, he wished it wasn’t the case. And that his dad hadn’t had the time to ship it yet. With shaking fingers, he entered the account data he remembered well, and pressed the button ‘Find’.

Please don’t be at a post office. Please don’t be at a post office. Please –

“Here,” he showed Carson urgently. “Was there an old lab there?”

Carson looked at the map with a frown. The red dot wasn’t very far from here, in a wooded area. But there was no indication of any building, abandoned or otherwise. The US Marshall checked his own phone, looking for information there. This was taking forever, they had to go, now! The laptop was right there! So surely his father –

“Yes!” the man said eventually.

************

They saw smoke before they found his dad’s car and Grogu’s heart clenched. He was gripping the grab handle above his window so hard he was certain it would come off. Greef had already called for reinforcements and Ahsoka was supposed to meet them at the scene. But Grogu couldn’t wait – as soon as the car had slowed down enough, he opened his door and ran, caring very little about any remaining danger.

“Hey!” yelled Carson.

Grogu saw that the smoke was coming from an old building in the distance, but the fire seemed mostly contained by now. He guessed an explosion had caused it, since he spotted rubble and debris here and there, blackened or burned. He tried yelling for his dad but he couldn’t make his voice work, either because of the smoke or because of the panic tightening around his throat and making him deaf to the yells behind him as Greef and Carson made their way closer.

His car was here, intact. Winta’s laptop in its shipping box on the backseat. But no sign of his father anywhere.

Grogu kept running towards the destroyed building, his vision tunneling, stumbling on loose rocks and branches. The area was densely wooded and extra hard to navigate in his state, but he couldn’t wait. He saw a figure to his left but didn’t check whether it was alive or dead after ascertaining it wasn’t his father. He didn’t care.

A soft sound to his right – a mumbled word – and only then did he wonder if he should grab the gun from his backpack. A shape was half-hidden next to a tree trunk, partly covered in foliage used for protection or warmth. A pale hand was poking out, with a distinctive blue arrow tattooed on it.

“Dad!” Grogu breathed, coming closer.

Another whispered word, but he couldn’t hear what he was saying over his own loud breaths. He almost fell over him in his haste, moving the leaves covering him to see him better. His eyes were open and staring right at him. Breathing just as fast. Alive, but just. He was worryingly cold, his lips almost as blue as the tattoos on his hands.

“Over here!” he screamed over the lump in his throat, his voice hoarse and barely recognizable. “He’s over here! He needs help! Quick!”

“Grogu…”

“Shhh, it’s alright!”

But it wasn’t. He could now see that the arm he was cradling against him was at a weird angle, and that he’d taken off his shirt to cover a wound on his side. It was drenched in blood.

“How…did…”

“Don’t talk!”

“How…” his father repeated, his stuttered breaths worrying Grogu even more than the blood or the paleness of his skin.

“Winta’s laptop,” he said in a rush, in the hope that it would be enough of an explanation and that he would stop talking and straining himself. How long had he been lying there injured? A few hours? A whole day?

“Smart kid,” his dad smiled, and his eyes started to close.

“No, stay awake!” Grogu urged, terrified he wouldn’t wake up again. This couldn’t be their last conversation. It just couldn’t. There was too much he needed to say. His dad’s eyes snapped open and he groaned. Carson had reached them, checking his wound.

“I think you pierced a lung,” he provided unhelpfully, pressing his own jacket against the bleed.

“No…shit,” his father managed laboriously.

“Greef’s calling an ambulance.”

A nod, but that seemed to cause him more pain, and Grogu didn’t know what else to do but hold his free hand.

“He’s too cold!” he told Carson.

“He’s gonna be fine, kid, that’s just shock,” the man replied, but he didn’t sound convinced.

Grogu reached inside his backpack for his sweater, draping it over his father’s exposed skin. But not before he finally realized what he’d overlooked all this time. He felt a stab of cold terror pierce his brain, almost like an electric charge. The tattoo over his heart. The constellation in the shape of a diamond. Ursa Minor.

“I’ll be okay, little bear,” his father whispered, his eyes resolutely closing. And no matter how loud Grogu yelled at him, tears running freely on his cheeks by now, he couldn’t make him open them again.

************

Grogu only remembered glimpses of the ride in the ambulance. Greef’s insistence to take him to Nevarro’s hospital. The news that Ahsoka had found Gideon’s body in the ruins. His small hand clasping his dad’s much bigger one as the paramedics worked. Surely he should have been warming up by now. But he was still so cold.

He was forced to let go so that he could be rushed to the operating room – pneumothorax, broken collarbone, shattered humerus – and someone directed him towards a plastic seat in a waiting room. A hot chocolate was placed in front of him. A sandwich. Grogu was paralyzed. His backpack still on and his bloodied sweater clutched to his chest. His dad’s blood on Winta’s sweater. There was a burning sensation behind his eyes. Born of numbness and exhaustion. He’d cried all the tears he could cry for now. The Ursa Minor tattoo over his heart. The Little Bear. He’d been right there and he hadn’t known. All this time.

Hours passed. Greef showed up. Carson. Ahsoka. No, he was fine where he was. No, he wasn’t hungry. The surgeon came. His father’s heart had stopped during surgery, she said. He’d lost a lot of blood. But he’d pulled through. And he could go sit with him for a little while in the ICU, would he like that? And yes, yes he would.

He almost didn’t recognize him under all those tubes and white bandages. His hand was still cold. He was still pale. But all the machines were beeping just right, the doctor said. He was strong. And yes, Grogu knew that too. He’d be moved to another room later but for now he had to leave him. Greef convinced him to go eat something in the cafeteria. The sky was dark outside. It was nighttime. He looked at his watch and realized he’d left the cabin over 17 hours ago.

He didn’t feel like saying anything so he let Greef do the talking, but the man wasn’t his usual chatty self either. He was worried too, and it made Grogu feel better instead of worse. He wasn’t alone. Thanks to him, he was allowed to rest for a few hours on a cot in the staff room. This was a small hospital, and Greef had a lot of pull in Nevarro. No one bothered Grogu or asked what a twelve-year old was doing here unaccompanied.

Come morning, he showered and changed into the clean clothes he’d brought in his backpack. Bought a coffee from the vending machine. It tasted awful. He got a second one just as Carson showed up again. Grogu was ready to bolt if he so much as suggested he couldn’t stay here any longer. He knew very well he wasn’t supposed to be here alone. He was a minor. He’d ran away from his state appointed home weeks ago. He was at the mercy of Child Protective Services.

“I thought you should have this,” Carson Teva said instead, handing him the shipping box containing Winta’s laptop. “We had to impound your dad’s car for the investigation, so it will be safer with you.”

“Thanks,” Grogu replied blandly.

They sat in the uncomfortable plastic seats of the waiting room in silence.

“So Moff Gideon is dead?” Grogu asked eventually – this he wanted confirmed. Yesterday’s terror and numbness were slowly being replaced by a stark feeling of awareness. Maybe it was all finally over.

“We’re still combing the area and IDing bodies but yes, Gideon’s dead, as well as several disgraced scientists and con men we’d been keeping an eye on.”

“They died in the explosion?”

“Some also had gunshot wounds.”

Grogu hummed in reply and Carson thankfully didn’t add anything else on the subject. They both knew what his father was capable of.

“Think he might go to prison?”

Carson shrugged. “We found a lot of destroyed equipment in the lab. Dangerous volatile substances. Explosion could have been an accident.”

“And the gunshot wounds?”

“Maybe they had a disagreement before the explosion.”

Grogu bit back a humorless laugh.

“No one will mourn those people, and Moff Gideon was a dangerous, awful person.”

“I know,” said Grogu with feeling. That didn’t make it right exactly, but he could live with it.

His father was moved to his own room in the afternoon, and the armchair next to his bed proved a lot more comfortable than the ones in the waiting room. So there Grogu remained, and saw color slowly returning to his dad’s skin. By evening, his eyes started to open.

“Dad?” Grogu said, clasping his hand.

“Mmh?” he replied, gripping his hand back with more force than he’d expected for someone whose heart stopped beating on the operating table.

“I don’t want to go back to the institute. I want to stay here and live with you,” he told him quickly, having rehearsed the words. He couldn’t wait any longer.

“Okay,” his father said simply.

“Gideon’s dead,” Grogu reminded him.

“Good.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Sleepy.”

And he closed his eyes again. Grogu hoped he’d remember their conversation when he woke up. Exhausted, he fell asleep as well, his head resting over his crossed arms on his father’s bed.

************

“You don’t mind the cabin? It’s very small.”

Grogu slowly emerged from deep sleep and sat up against the armchair, the sun shining brightly through the window. He was achy all over. He’d woken up a few times during the night when nurses came to check on his dad, but this had still been the best sleep he’d had in a while.

“What?” he mumbled, thinking those words had been part of the strange dream he’d been having – he couldn’t remember it now. Something about wearing a robot costume. Probably his muscles complaining via his subconscious for the previous nights.

“The cabin. Do you want to move?”

His father sounded a lot better, almost like his regular self. If not for the many tubes still coursing through him, he could have pretended they were having a normal conversation.

“I like the cabin,” Grogu replied, happy that he hadn’t forgotten what he’d told him the first time he woke up.

“I’ve made a lot of enemies throughout the years, so we’ll have to stay hidden.”

“I know.”

“But we don’t have to disappear completely either, we can move around a little freely now that Gideon’s gone.”

Grogu wondered how long his dad had been awake, rehearsing his own words. Now that he was a little more cognizant, he could see a certain tenseness around his eyes and mouth. His free hand was clenching and unclenching around the bedsheet.

“You’re in pain,” Grogu realized. “Let me call a nurse – ”

“No, there’s a few things I wanna say,” his dad stopped him. “The drugs make me sleepy.”

“But – ”

“It’s important, you have to hear this,” he pressed, his eyes intent, and Grogu sat back down.

“The cabin, your room, your bed – it was always meant to be for you,” he started in a breath. “I didn’t know then if you’d want to see me again or stay for long, but it was for you.”

Grogu was stunned. Even if he’d guessed some of it through what he’d read in his notebooks. Or his general caginess when he’d asked about the brand new bed in his room. Or his grades on the fridge.

“That last mission with Bo-Katan and her team… It went badly. Really badly. I didn’t think I’d make it. And you were my one regret. I had to make things right. And then you showed up before I figured out how to get my head out of my ass and ask you. Skywalker was supposed to talk to you about it. I guess it was difficult for him too, I don’t blame him.”

“You asked Luke?” Grogu pressed, incapable to put a name on the emotions he was feeling at the moment.

“Of course,” his father frowned, sweat beading at his brow. He needed painkillers, but he was too stubborn. And Grogu knew they needed to have this talk. “He said he wasn’t sure you liked being at the institute anymore, but he would let you choose. And then the Gideon thing happened and…” A deep exhale.

It wasn’t betrayal, not really. Even if they’d both acted behind his back. There was even some relief there. Somehow, the two of them had known without him saying anything.

“Why did you lie?” he eventually asked in a small voice, because it was the only thing that still really hurt. “You never said you were investigating Gideon on your own, and I thought you’d just be gone for the night, on a job for Carson. Nothing dangerous.”

“I’m so sorry,” his father spoke through clenched teeth, his pain not only of a physical kind now. “I couldn’t bare seeing you like that. You were so scared because he was still out there. So worried. And you wouldn’t say anything. Wouldn’t talk about it. Your nightmares – ” he was out of breath. He exhaled slowly and started again. “It was too much. And when I found out it was actually him you’d seen at the mall – ”

“It was?” Grogu interrupted him, incredulous. His father nodded slowly, his eyes shining bright with unshed tears. This was ridiculous.

“Dad, let me call – ”

“No,” he said forcefully. “Let me finish. I was wrong to lie to you, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. But I had to get Gideon. I knew he was close since he’d managed to track us once. And I was right.”

Grogu knew this was the best he could hope for in terms of apologies. “I was really worried.”

“I know.”

“You could have died.”

“I didn’t.”

“Well, you can’t do that anymore, I need you to stay alive,” he tried to explain, badly, his tone rising, legs bouncing up and down against the seat.

His father sighed deeply, his eyes so full of pain it hurt to look at him directly. “I know.”

Grogu wanted to believe him. Desperately. Tears forming in his own eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Maybe this was how happiness started, he thought. With trust.

“Okay.”

And this time he didn’t stop him when he pressed the button for the nurse.

************

“Why did it have to be an explosion?”

It was mid-afternoon. His dad had been sleeping for most of the day, but Grogu didn’t mind. He’d unpacked Winta’s laptop from its box – he’d have to get it ready again, that was okay – and had made good use of the Wi-Fi provided in the hospital to do some research.

“I like a good explosion,” his father slurred. The drugs did make him sound a little drunk, but he’d known exactly what Grogu had been talking about. He’d been given a morphine pump and a remote to control his intake of painkillers and had been using it less sparingly since his surgeon had shown up earlier to tell him they’d be able to remove his chest tube the next day, and that yes, it was going to hurt. A lot.

“I just didn’t time it right,” he admitted.

“You messed up your calculations.”

“I did.”

“I wouldn’t have,” Grogu pointed out.

“I know,” he sighed, and pressed the remote once. Grogu gave him a few minutes before talking again.

“I just enrolled in Nevarro’s high school, I’m starting in September. Greef put in a good word with the principal.”

“I thought you already passed your SATs. Skywalker said – ”

“Yeah, and I’ve got an amazing GPA, I don’t care, I want to go to high school, do something normal. I can go to college later, I still want to be an astronaut, I just want to do it at the normal speed, you know?”

“And you’re not going to be bored?”

Grogu shrugged. “Maybe a little. So I enrolled in a couple of university courses as well, just in case.”

“You’ve been busy,” his father noted. But Grogu wasn’t done.

“I also checked the State’s requirements: you need a GED to get a private detective’s license, so I signed you up for next January, that should give you enough time.”

“What?”

“I don’t see why you can’t have one like Ahsoka, that way you’ll be able to find work more easily.”

And be taken more seriously. And stop thinking he was dumb just because he dropped out of high school.

“Grogu, I don’t know, I’m not smart like you, I can’t – ”

“Being smart is overrated, trust me. And I’ll help you. I know you can make it, dad.”

He was silent for a while and Grogu thought he’d fallen back to sleep. But looking up from the laptop’s screen, he noticed that his eyes were still open. He was staring in the distance, lost in thought.

“I know the morphine is making me a bit loopy, but it’s funny how easy it’s been to get used to that word. That name.”

It took a few seconds for Grogu to figure out what he meant but when he did, he smiled brightly. And decided he should perhaps press his luck.

“Once you’re better we should go to Sorgan. Winta deserves to be given her computer face to face. She saved you, after all. And I need to give her back her cash, too. But you bled all over her sweater so I think she’ll let me keep it.”

“Alright,” he agreed with yet another sigh.

“You’ll have to decide on your next tattoo as well. To cover the spot where they put your chest tube,” Grogu added, thinking the prospect would cheer him up a little.

“That’s okay, I’ve decided.”

“Already?” Grogu marveled.

“Well, it’s obvious. It will have to be Ursa Major.”

The Great Bear and the Little Bear. And Grogu nodded, because it did make perfect sense.

#the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin #carson teva #greef karga #fanfic #star wars #mandalorian #modern au #angst with a happy ending #found family #my fics

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