#the hunts i gotta do to find this stuff just to give proper credit or date something correctly...

[teamfreewill2pointo]

Transcript of End of the Road Special

Transcript of End of the Road Special. 

Please let me know if I made any errors in transcription. Twitter version Family Don’t End with Blood Transcription Winchester Mythology Transcription

Dabb: Ultimately, we came up with something that we're all very proud of Singer: You never know what the audience is going to like so we really tried to say "what would make us happy? Would we be satisfied with where we've taken them?"

The Carry On song was a guideline.

Singer: The myth of what these brothers were throughout 15 years... We didn't shy away from fatalism, but we wanted to be able to have it be kinda uplifting as well.

Dabb: If you're going to do something that feels like a complete arc, you have to kinda go back to the beginning of it (clips of them hunting vamps from s1 & 15.20) When it comes to Sam & Dean- it's all about getting back to, in some ways, these two guys on the road in this car.

Dabb: They've been doing this job for 15 years now. They've fought everyone from demons to vampires to God himself, but at the end of the day, they're still working guys, out there on the road & taking cases. We've tried to never lose sight of that.

Dabb: There are times when we've been wrapped up in our own mythology a little bit. We've always tried to get back to the basics, which are: these two guys, saving people, hunting things. 

Eugenie: I think we sort of knew generally what the ending would involve.

Eugenie: We might not have known the mechanics, but we sort of knew there would be a victorious, glorious sacrificial ending bc I think sacrifice is a big theme in the series.

For every great thing you do, a cost must be paid.

Singer: Andrew & I talked about it. We were in agreement pretty quickly... talked to the rest of the writing staff & let them know what we wanted to do and we were open to suggestions. And then we pretty much pitched it to Jared and Jensen.

Jensen talks about flying to LA. Jensen: So before we ever even started 15, we knew how the last portion of the story was going to go. We didn't know how we were going to get there, but we kinda knew the final- the finish line- we knew what... what that was going to look like.

Jared: I don't think there's ever been a season of SPN in 15 years where the way the writers thought the show would play out for that season- ended up being the way it played out And so we were aware of that. They told us here's what we're thinking, here's what happens to Castiel

Jared: In the finale, Dean dies & Sam lives on. And then we think they're going to meet up in heaven. 

I remember Jensen... just because I know him so well- he seemed to bristle a little bit.

Jensen: It was hard to hear then & it was hard to read now. Not because I didn't like it, not because I wished it had gone differently... I'm not adverse to it. I think it's a great ending. I'm proud to film it.

Singer: And we just aimed for that, you know, throughout the season. We knew where we were going.

Jensen: Reading it & knowing that... there's just a weight that is so much larger reading these scripts than I've ever experienced before. 

There's an emotional weight that these scripts are going to carry & these episodes are going to have that I don't think we've ever seen before.

Brad: [J2] were so young when all of this started. They brought to it such conviction & such commitment to the effort. 

That's one of the things that kept the show going for so many years... a show that was designed for very young guys, footloose & fancy free, & on the road…

Brad: To see these guys grow up b4 your eyes into- men, not boys any longer- was amazing. 

BABY Jared: Though the story does involve Sam & Dean chasing supernatural things, it really is a story about two brothers that love each other & ultimately will do anything for each other.

Jensen: There's really one person that gets it on the level that I get it, and that's Jared. Jared: I've never spent as much time with another human being as I have with Jensen Ackles. He will be my friend and brother forever. And I know that.

BABY Jensen: There's a lot of dynamics between the two brothers, there's a lot of history between them, there's a lot of banter between them... it's good stuff S15 Jensen: We had a partner in crime & we leaned on each other for, you know, for times when it was tough.

Jensen: But we also won together. We got to share the experience of success & the experience of getting picked up for another season. Watching these two characters go through what they're going through, when we're working 14 hours & it's 2-3 o’clock on a Sat morning and we're just now finishing filming out in the rain and mud and we gotta race to the airport to get on a plane because we've got a photoshoot in LA & we've gotta do on camera interviews and we gotta promote the show that we love so much that we were just in the mud & the rain filming hours before we're exhausted and it's like there's only one person that gets that right now. That gets how I feel and that's this guy standing next to me. That's pretty cool. That's pretty cool to have somebody like that.

Brad: We knew it was going to be impossible to tie up every aspect of all of the cans of worms that we opened up. 

We did want to bring a proper ending to the guys, the guy's relationship.

Brad: Then of course we had this huge corner we painted ourselves into with the most powerful thing in the universe being the big bad of the season. We try and find a proper send off for Jack & for Cas. What to do w/ the boys & is that a together farewell or an individual?

It was just... lots of moving parts. 

Dabb: I give a lot of credit to Bobo who really was the one who started banging the drum early & often to ending the mythology in 19 and end the characters in 20.

Brad: You're battling God & battling God & you have this epic situation going on through the first 3/4 of the show & then what? You send off Dean in act 4? That just felt wrong. Eugenie: We had this obligation, it was really mandatory, that we tie up the mythic narrative and leave the final episode for the emotional resolution. I [was] more on the side of not wanting to best God. To have God change to be more like his creations. So there were philosophical arguments, but we always knew God's resolution was going to be a big ticket item.

Jensen: We'd started day 1 of the 2nd to last episode, 19. We were 1 day down on that episode & we were just about to start our 2nd day & we got the call that morning that we were not going to be coming in that day.

Jensen: So we figured ok, we'll figure out protocol, figure out what we need to do, & we'll just regroup, come back on Monday. As that day progressed, it was like- this looks like more of an apocalypse that is ascending upon us than just a bad cold.

They pulled the plug & they said everybody go home. 

Singer: Fortunately, we got assurance from both the studio & the network that one way or another we were gonna finish the series. That was comforting to us, but we didn't know when we were going to go back.

Eugenie: We didn't know what we were going back to... if this was the last time we would ever see the set. There was no plan. It was just get out of dodge. Dabb: When it first happened, we thought it would be a couple of weeks, maybe a month.

I had conversations w/WB where they expected everyone to be back shooting in June & then things got worse & pushed & pushed.

Eugenie: Slowly as we settled into that 4 or 5 month period, discussions were going on w/the studio, & the networks, & the actors. We knew there would be restrictions on what we were allowed to shoot, but finally, the mechanics were figured out. 

Singer: So they were ready to go pretty quickly, shooting in Van, where covid wasn't quite as virulent as it was [in LA].

Dabb: We were one of the first shows, one of the first WB shows to start back up. So in a way, we were kinda a guinea pig. But, in being that, I think everyone took it really seriously. We had 0 positive tests. Crew members weren't going out on the weekends.

They were like look, if I get sick, it hurts the whole show. That speaks to the family culture up there, where we've had so much of our crew for so long. Where J2 & Singer provide such great leadership.

Singer: When I was in prep for 20, I was basically in the office but couldn't go to the set. It was very odd for me not to be able to go to the set while I was in prep. 

Everybody just hung in there & did what they were supposed to do.

Brad: Then we were faced with the dilemma of having to rewrite a lot of the stuff bc of the pandemic bc of the limitations that we knew were going to come on the production.

Jensen: We were gearing up for, not only the end of that season, but the end of the series. There was a lot of big, big things written-packed- into those last two scripts.

Jared: At first, it was supposed to be a lot of our old cast from prior seasons in a Roadhouse with Kansas.

Everybody had already agreed. Kansas was going to be in Van. We were going to have dad there & mom there. Just probably 20 or 30 different actors & actresses who had been a part of the SPN's canon over the last 15 & a half years.

Jensen: It was scheduled to be the last day that we were going to film, so it was almost like rolling right into a nice wrap party on camera. 

Brad: The idea of flying a boatload of ppl up there to quarantine for 2 weeks so they could shoot for a day was making less & less sense.

Eugenie: How do we make this work? And while you're doing that, you also don't want to sacrifice the heart and soul of the project. 

So we came up with a reduced, much more intimate ending. It has been replaced by something equally magical & rewarding.

Singer: I felt an enormous responsibility in directing the finale of a show that's been on for 15 years. Andrew, when he saw the cut, he said some really nice things to me as to, you know, the way I handled the material.

Jensen: The scenes that were filmed on our last day on the sound stages were filled with the most emotion of the final episode. 

Singer: One of the really hard things was we're on another stage that wasn't the MoL stage & they started wrecking the MoL sets

They'd been working on this set and been apart of this- this family for just as long if not longer than the set's been around. I was like "it's really sad seeing this get taken down" and the other guy said, "I'm trying to hold back tears while I'm swinging this hammer."

Jared: As we start saying goodbye to characters, to locations, like it just seems like every day you would wake up and there would be some reason to cry. 

Misha: This is a show ultimately about love, & empathy, & caring, & I think that Castiel embodies that.

Misha: Half the crew was crying. It was really such a sweet, supporting environment to be in for the demise of a character that, of course, for me is really important. 

But it was so lovely to see that, you know, the folks that I'm- I'm working with were also there for Cas at that moment. 

Alex: To get to work with these caliber people & see your friends every day is really special & is not something that often happens in this business for this long. It's been definitely a topsy turvy last couple weeks here with us and the crew. 

Jared: Friday of the final full week was the big scene in the barn with the vampires where Dean suffers his fate. They did the first two days with the entire stunt team & the young boy actors. 

And then they cut it for Thursday night and they're like, okay, Friday, tomorrow, we’re starting the dialogue. Dean, you're on the post. Sam, you just cut off the last vampire's head.

That was the scene- that was where Supernatural was really encapsulated. 

Jensen: And then the next week we kind of had this- on the road encore get together filmmaking scenario that felt more like we made it & it was more pats on the back as opposed to tearful goodbyes. 

Dabb: In a weird way you can look at the 15 seasons is like Sam & Dean's emotional evolution. You know instead of therapy, they kill vampires, but other than that it's kind of the same & brings them both to a very good place. And a place where they can, as the song says, you know, lay their weary head to rest. 

This felt like the most honest & emotionally fulfilling episode for these characters to us. Jared: I got thinking about how Supernatural started & how the majority of times how I thought it should end. It started with Sam & Dean Winchester. I think it's proper that it ended with Sam & Dean Winchester together again. 

Jensen: When the cameras stop rolling & Bob yelled, “Cut!” and Bob yelled, “That’s a series wrap on Supernatural.” There was- a there was a loud cheer that echoed through that canyon we were filming in. I will- I will happily say that there were hugs that happened and that needed to happen. Those are people that I spent not just years with, but so much time with- it's like brothers in arms and so to put it to bed the way that we did felt really good and then felt good to hug some people, I'll tell you that much. Singer: I thanked everyone, but I wanted to really thank people who had been with us from the beginning and as I looked around, there were so many people who had been there from the beginning.

We really were a family. I always say about this show is one of the reasons that it was a success and is that it was not only about the Winchester family, but it was about the Supernatural family. 

Jared: So now that's all said and done, I guess I can look back at it and just be proud that I helped this show carry on and I'm really proud of the blood, sweat, and tears that I put in, and I feel like- I feel like that sacrifice was also maybe one of the things I learned from Sam, you know? Sam had to sacrifice a lot. So, I'm honored and flattered and grateful that I got to be a part of that journey.

Dabb: You're never going to have another show like this. You're never gonna have another experience like this. For a lot of different reasons, from how long it ran, from the family that the show became, from the amazing fans that we have. [Footage of us] From the emotional investment people can put in over 15 years of their lives. 

Some started watching this when they were in high school, when they were 15, they're 30 now, they might have kids. That's their- that's like half their life. They've been with this show. You're not gonna have that again. Shows just aren’t gonna run this long, especially genre shows, but I don't know that I'm ever gonna do anything else in my career that I'm gonna be more proud of than having been involved in this show. 

Jared: The things that stick out are just how important it is to keep putting one foot in front of the other. And keep on working and wake up every day and treat it like it could be your last and- and if you make it out the other side, you'll be happy and proud of what you did. 

Jensen: The crew had packed up, they had cleared the bridge, and they were all starting to, you know, load their trucks and get moving. And Jared and I just kind of hung back, and we just took a moment. I looked at him and I said, “I’m proud of us, man. I'm proud of what we've done.”

We know that that's the collective we, that is everyone that is involved, that is- you know from the top down. You know, for our portion, for what we contributed to this monster of the show, he and I reflected on that, and still able to see and smell the roses.

[hopelesshawks]

Physical Fatality Part 13- Icarus

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warning for very slight suicidal themes this fic has a happy ending I swear

Masterlist

Agony.

Losing you is agony.

Endeavor is lecturing him for pulling the stunt with Bakugo earlier that day but he can’t hear or really process any of it when all he can think about is the fact you’ve blocked his number and seem to want nothing to do with him. He vaguely registers words of “I told you so” and “I warned you” and even a word or two about a demotion but none of it matters. Hawks doesn’t know how to do anything but be a hero. It’s been the driving force behind a lot of the choices he’s made in your relationship and he knows it’s the same for you, but that doesn’t make any of this easier.

“You’re going to have to work really hard to earn my trust back Hawks and the trust of your coworkers,” Endeavor warns. “Understood,” Hawks replies, his voice almost detached. It seems to disconcert Endeavor, the other man being far more accustomed to the snarky Hawks persona than the serious man in front of him now. “Hawks, uhm, do you,” Endeavor stutters suddenly unsure. He coughs to cover his discomfort and clears his throat before resuming. “Do you need to talk about what happened between you and Artemis?” he finally manages to ask. He looks so deeply uncomfortable potentially talking about the subject and his discomfort only grows when Hawks continues to give him nothing back. “That won’t be necessary,” Hawks replies before turning and walking out of the office. If Hawks doesn’t know how to live without hero work, Keigo doesn’t know how to live without you. So his only option is to abandon Keigo until the pain stops.

He can’t have slept more than a handful of hours that night but he still wakes up early the next morning to run an extra patrol before his normally scheduled one. He files paperwork, even revisits old cases, all in a bid to keep you off his mind. Of course it’s not enough to stop his coworkers from whispering. Typically he ignores the gossip of the lower ranking heroes but it’s hard when he knows they’re speculating about you and him. It certainly doesn’t help that your break up was so public and now it feels like nearly all of Japan has watched the video of it happening. Hawks used to be the darling of Endeavor’s agency, beloved by all of his coworkers. Now he’s practically a pariah.

His new outcast status is only made more obvious at the cocktail party later that day. He’d wanted to skip it entirely, the fact you were supposed to be his plus one to the event made it all the more unappealing, but he’s already skating on thin ice and had no legitimate excuse to justify his absence. So instead he watches the other heroes talk and drink and laugh about things while he hides in the corner, too exhausted and heartbroken to put up the persona necessary to maintain conversation. No one seems to ask about him anyway or even care what he thinks despite the fact it’s his personal life that’s become the hottest topic in all of Japan. He wonders if this is how Icarus felt as he plummeted to the earth. Hawks had flown too close to your light and warmth and now he’s fallen from grace. He wonders if it’s true that Icarus laughed as he fell. If so he can empathize. As painful as this fall is, he would live it over and over if it meant he could catch even a glimpse of you again.

When Shoto comes to join him it’s literally the first genuine interaction he’s had all day. “You look like shit,” Shoto comments by way of greeting. “Thanks. Feel like it too,” Hawks replies. He doesn’t have to pretend with Shoto and for that he’s grateful. “Are you ok?” Shoto asks. “Even though I’ve always hated these things I was always so good at them,” Hawks starts in response. “I’d talk, drink, laugh just like everyone’s doing, be the center of attention, play the part of the charming number two hero. And look at me now. I’m so fucking anxious about what they’ll say about me, about her, about us and what happened that I can’t have a proper fucking conversation. I used to be on fire and now I’m standing in the ashes of who I used to be and I’m just fading away. Without her I’m fading away. I’m just as pathetic as she said,�� Keigo confesses and it’s a weight off but it also makes the hollow space behind his ribs where you used to live feel all the more prominent. “This right here is kind of pathetic,” Shoto starts, earning him a shocked almost laugh from the other man, “but you are not pathetic Hawks. I think (y/n) knows that, she’s just hurting. Rightfully so. The bullshit with the others in the agency will get better too.” “I don’t know about that one.” “You’re not the only one who’s done dumb or bad shit. Not by a long shot.” “Really?” “You know Iida?” Shoto asks, pointing to the man in question as he obliviously continues his conversation with one of the others present. “Yea. Your year at UA, stickler for the rules. What about him?” Hawks asks. “He chose his internship our first year with the sole intention of trying to hunt down and kill Stain to avenge his brother.” “Really? That guy?” “Yep. My dad isn’t so innocent either: quirk marriage, child abuse, oh the stories I could tell you.” “Jesus Christ.” “Exactly. Everyone has their own shit Hawks. This will pass and hopefully you and (y/n) can find your ways back to each other when it does.”

Shortly after Todoroki finishes speaking his phone rings and he frowns down in confusion when he notices it’s Bakugo calling him. “I didn’t think we had task force business today,” Shoto says as he answers the phone. “We don’t. Is Hawks there with you?” Bakugo asks, his tone betraying his worry. “Yea he is.” “Shit.” “What’s going on Bakugo?” “It’s about (y/n),” Bakugo admits and Shoto’s eyes widen. He casts a look at Hawks before finally deciding to drag the other man with him to an empty office on the floor they’re currently on. He locks the door behind them and then pops his phone on speaker. “Ok you’re on speaker with me and Hawks what’s going on with (y/n)?” Shoto asks, his voice remaining calm. “All Might fired her last night so she was supposed to come in this morning and collect her stuff except instead she pretty much just threw everything away. I came back to patrol and found out she’d left Midoriya and I little gifts on our desk which was weird, so I hit up her roommates and apparently she never went home after she swung by here. I thought she and Hawks may have run off together but if he’s with you...” Bakugo explains. “Maybe she’s just clearing her head or something,” Shoto suggests. “No way. The whole of Japan is gossiping about her right now, the last thing she’d want is to be out in public,” Bakugo quickly refutes. “Was there anything else off about your desks? Drawers opened?” Hawks asks. “Maybe, I wasn’t paying that much attention. Why?” Bakugo asks. “Your task force notes still there?” Hawks asks in lieu of an answer. Hawks and Shoto wait with baited breath as they hear the sound of Bakugo moving around and then opening a desk drawer. “Nope, they’re gone,” Bakugo finally reports back. “Thought so. (Y/n) wouldn’t just roll over and kiss her career goodbye, she’s probably trying to take out the terrorist cell herself and use it as leverage to get her job back,” Hawks deduces. “Alone? That’s a suicide mission,” Shoto says. “Hence the gifts on the desks,” Hawks replies grimly. “Most of our notes are over there with you guys though,” Bakugo points out. As if on cue an alarm starts blaring overhead warning of an intruder. “That’s gotta be her,” Hawks says. “I’m on my way, hold her there so we can talk some sense into that idiot,” Bakugo tells them before promptly hanging up the phone.

Hawks has to give credit where credit is due. As foolhardy as your plan is, it’s incredibly well executed. As a former member of the guest list, you would’ve known everyone would be occupied with the cocktail party on one of the lower floors, far away from where the files you need are. The elevators will take forever with so many people trying to all get upstairs which only leaves the stairs, which are marginally better but still relatively slow. You must have spent most of the night planning this out. That thought fills Hawks with a certain amount of dread. You’re probably emotional and sleep deprived on your way to take on an entire villain group yourself all in a desperate bid to save your career. It almost sounds ludicrous. Yet, as Hawks races to the top floor in hopes of catching you, all he can think of is something you’d once told him during happier times, late at night as you two were wrapped up in each other:

“Honestly Kei? I’d rather die a hero than live long enough to prove those stupid reporters right about me.”

Author’s Note: Does this still count as a double update if I’m posting the second one after midnight 💀 anyway I can’t believe how quickly I was able to get this chapter out. The image of Hawks standing in the corner of a massive company party feeling like a shell of himself is actually a large part of what sold me on writing this fic for him. The song this chapter correlates to just felt so right for his character that I knew it couldn’t be anyone else. I thought about waiting to post this until later tomorrow today? but I’m ✨impatient✨ so instead y’all get it now

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead @lavender-moon13

[wayward-mikaelson]

Heavenly Crush

Word Count: 1599

Pairing: Cas x Reader

Characters: Cas, Dean, Sam, and Reader

About: When Dean buts into the Readers sex life she cant stop thinking about Cas. When she sees Cas, they both share a small intimate moment.

Warnings: Language, Angst, Fluff, Dirty Thoughts, Fantasizing, Blood and Gore

A/N: If you know a Cas/Misha lover tag them below! 

A/N 2: Request close in under 12 hours. 11.59 USA Central time! Send me those pictures or gifs or songs and what you want in it.

Forever Tag List: @donnaintx​ @myinconnelly1​ @magssteenkamp​ @elansaidaris​ @hobby27​ @squirrelnotsam​ @440mxs-wife​

*18+ CONTENT. YOUNGER THAN 18 MUST MOVE ON

**DO NOT COPY AND PASTE MY WORK ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND WITHOUT GIVING ME THE PROPER CREDIT. I WORK TOO HARD ON THESE STORIES FOR THEM TO BE STOLEN.

***ALL WORKS ARE POSTS ON IG, AO3, WATTPAD. GO SHOW THEM SOME LOVE THERE TOO.

"We need to get you laid?" Dean says walking into the bunker and tossing his bag onto the table. I choke on whatever saliva I have in my mouth. "See right there! That would have been perfect if it were around some poor guys dick."

"Shut up," Both Sam and I say. "I do not need to be picturing myself giving some awful head right now." I continue. Sam flops into the chair closest to him. "Especially looking like I do. I'm sure I have Vamp guts on me." Our vampire hunt almost went south until Dean realized he had packed the freaking grenade launcher. When he shot it, vampire guts and body parts flew everywhere. "And stay out of my sex life unless you want me all up in yours Mister Right Now."

"Fuck you," Dean says making a face. He hates when I call him that when he buts into my non existent sex life.

"Oh, honey, I already do," I blew a kiss towards him. Sam is passed out and has missed the whole thing.

I make my way towards the bathroom. I've been with the boys for maybe six months. Both have tried making moves on me but they both failed. I didn't see them like that. They were more like brothers to me. Really, really annoying brothers who bickered almost all the damn time. I really have eyes for one person and that Castiel, our angel friend.

Once in the bathroom. I turn shower all the way on hot. Why? Well after this hunt, I feel the need to burn my skin to get all the vampire guts off me. I turn to the mirror and see that the damage is far, far worse than I imagined. Small chunks of vampire are stuck in my hair. Pieces of skin are stuck of my face. Dried blood is just about everywhere. "I guess that's what happened when I'm in the the splash zone," I begin to slip out of my clothes.

I carefully get into the shower and start to scrub my body, hair, and hard to get places. I want the smell and sign of it all off me. Once I am satisfied with my wash, I sit on the shower floor and just let the water run all over me.

I lean back and close my eyes and think of all the things I like about Cas. His eyes for one. The shade of blue always makes you want to drown in them. Then his smile when he was genuinely happy. That smile was always so rare to see and it always makes my knees weak. Then there was the way he talked and was always confused about certain things. The way he says hello to me and looks at me as if he's trying to read my mind. Well, maybe he can since he's an angel and all, I think to myself.

Then I start to think about the dirty stuff. I think of how those hands would feel on my skin. His voice in my ear. His body wrapped around mine. I bite my lip just thinking where it all could go. But I doubt it. Cas is an angel. I just want him so bad, I don't sleep or flirt with anyone at a bar of a town we roll through.

I sigh and turn the water off and get out of the shower. I look in the mirror to find I was squeaky clean minus the few cuts and scraps I got from being thrown around. I even start to see a few bruises starting to form. Oh well, I think, I've seen hotter days. I wrap the towel around me and waltz out of the bathroom without a care in the world. I run into something or someone and that someone balanced me on my feet and held me back. I feel my face start to burn when I feel the familiar gentle hands and see the beige trench coat.

"I was just coming to check in on you."

Cas's voice threw me for a spin and put me in a trance. I begin to envision me dropping my towel and jumping him. I picture slamming my lips to his and him backing me up onto a wall ripping the towel away.

"YN," Cas's voice also snaps me out my trance. "

"What?" I ask shaking my head.

"I asked if you were okay." Cas says. "You have some scrapes and bruises. Will you like it if I healed them?"

I smile. "Yeah," Damn my stupid day dream. I watch as Cas presses two fingers to my head and I close my eyes and sigh. I feel all the aching in my body fade out and disappear for good. Well, until the next time I need to be healed.

Cas pulls back his hand and I see a confused look on his face. "What?" I ask. "Do I still have blood or something in my hair?" I use my free hand to ruffle my hair around.

"No," Cas grabs my hand and I instantly feel my face turn red. I look away. "I never realized I had such an effect on you. I mean, I cannot hear your thoughts but, I can pick up on emotions. Yours are screaming whenever I am around you. I never knew until now."

I feel my face get hotter. I gently pull my hand away and turn away. "I gotta get dressed."

I hurry to my room and throw clothes on and sit on my bed. What the hell just happened? I toss over and bury my face in my pillow. Cas can't read my mind? But can read my flipping emotions? And they're screaming? What the hell is that supposed to mean? I scream into the pillow until I need to lift my head up to breath. I feel like a teenage school girl whose crush finally found out I like them.

I sit up and stare at the ground until I hear a knock on my door. I take a deep breath and compose myself. I get up and answer the door to see Cas standing there. Hes looking to the side and I follow his gaze and see Dean poking his head around the corner. He's giving okay and thumbs up hand signals. Dean sees me and stops and disappears. I sigh and let Cas in and close the door.

"I'm assuming Dean has something to do with this?" I ask watching Cas look around my room. It's the cleanest but, it also doesn't look like Deans.

Cas nods and looks back at me. "Yes, I inquired about your emotions I feel each time I am around you. He says that you might have what you humans call a crush on me. But I do not understand why you would want to crush me?" I cover my mouth and laugh. "What is so funny?"

I walk up to the confused angel with a smile on my face. "Cas," I say taking hold of his trench coat and I fiddle with the button closest to my fingers. "I don't want to crush you." I giggle again. "What Dean means is, I like you more than as a friend." I contemplate kicking Deans ass for telling Cas I have a crush on him.

"What is  more than a friend?" Cas ask looking deep in your eyes.

I take a deep breath because I know he will still be confused. I let go of his coat and take hold of his face. I reach my face up to his and gently kiss his lips. His lips are chapped but I didn't care. I feel Cas's hand on my face and he pulls back slowly. I'm confused by the look he gives me. Shock? Weird? Surprised?

"I see now," He says keeping his hands on my face. His thumbs brush my cheeks and I'm not sure if he knew he was doing that. "I think I, too, have a crush on you and like you more than as a friend." I smile and Cas pulls my face back to his and this time, this kiss is deeper and full of longing.

Cas's hands slide down to my hips and walks me back towards the dresser. He effortlessly picks me up and sits me on top of it. I hear him shrug off his coat and toss it to the side without breaking the kiss. I begin to reach for the button of his pants. Then out of know where there is a soft sliding sound.

"I'm slipping some condoms under the door for you guys," Deans voice is heard from the other side. "I mean, I don't know how strong they have to be for an angel but these are the thick kind that don't bust."

"Oh for fucks sake," Sams voice is also heard. "Leave the two of them alone."

By now, Cas has pulled apart and has gotten his coat back on. I still sit on the dresser contemplating on kicking Deans ass still. Cas walks up to me and helps me off the dresser. "I still feel your emotions are screaming maybe this can settle them until we get the proper alone time. You know, so that I can get my hard angelic dick deep inside you." Cas softly presses his lips to mine for a few seconds before leaving the room.

Such talk coming from an angel had me turned on in ways I couldn't describe. Until next time.

[ofheroesandvillains]

Home (Hearth) - Geralt

Words: 4k Warnings: none really. Summary: Geralt returns to Skellige. Kind of a prequel to Hearth, but I guess it can also be read as a stand-alone.

Hi folks! I gotta be honest, I feel like my writing just isn’t cooperating at the moment so I’m sorry for the delay in Dorian...again (there’s loads of Jaskier shenanigans in the next part though!). Hope you’re all staying safe!

(gif not mine)

It was an unfortunate fact that Geralt didn’t often visit the Isles of Skellige. His work took him to all corners of the world, but there was a particular feeling that crept into his heart when he thought of Skellige—an eagerness he hid even from himself.

When the ship pulled into dock that afternoon he felt it swell in his chest, and it showed in the way his eyes searched the crowded streets. Geralt shook his head at his own foolishness; no one was aware of his arrival. And if they were aware, they had other matters to attended to.

A great celebration was underway, the King’s daughter was to be wed and his services had been requested in exchange for a hefty amount of coin. Even without the coin, Geralt knew he would have obliged. As the flowery poets and bards of the world liked to preach, there were more important things in life than gold—and his treasure was hidden away in Skellige.

“This way, Master Witcher!” Lord Balden called out from ahead.

He was a stout old man with a soft heart and an overactive mind. Geralt had stumbled upon him by chance in a haunted old church on the Continent. Lord Balden had fancied himself indebted ever since Geralt had saved his life, and had naturally requested his services across the seas as well.

Geralt didn’t bother telling him that he knew exactly where he was going—that these were streets he’d longed to see for years. He just followed.

———

Lord Balden had shown him to his room and then promptly disappeared, rambling on about guests and decorations as he went.

Geralt would give credit where it was due—it had been a beautiful wedding, as was expected whenever royals flaunted their riches about, but most seemed to be more excited for the feast that followed. Stuck-up lords and their prim and proper ladies had come undone under the influence of alcohol, stray hairs sticking to sweat-slicked skin and dresses fluttering about as they danced amid drunken laughter.

The noise grated on Geralt’s nerves, but he’d long ago grown used to the assault on his ears. Still, he tucked himself away in hidden corners, on the periphery where no one could bother him as he nursed an ale. He watched the crowd with sharp eyes, anticipating danger and searching, though he’d never admit it. He hadn’t seen her yet—near impossible considering her friendship with the royal family—but he was certain that she had somehow managed to avoid his line of sight.

It was a game she played in their younger years, trying her hardest to evade his sense. Her power alone would give her away, but she didn’t know then that he was hyperaware of her presence. He didn’t needs his eyes to see her. He could smell her on the wind, taste her happiness in the air. He could feel her without touch, hear her without sound.

And for a brief moment Geralt felt a weight settle in his chest. If he couldn’t sense her then perhaps she wasn’t there. Perhaps she’d left Skellige and hadn’t told him. It had been years after all and ambitions changed, people changed, and he feared that even if he did see her, he wouldn’t recognise the person she’d become.  

His grip tightened around his tankard, and his shoulders tensed with the new presence he felt at his back.

“I’m told there is a great Witcher among us.”

Geralt’s eyes slipped shut for no more than a few second—long enough to suppress the shiver that threatened to snake down his spine and send goosebumps skittering along his skin.

“Oh yes,” she continued, draping a gentle hand over his shoulder, “a hero of the highest calibre. The stuff of legend, found only in song and story.”

Geralt hummed, eyes unblinking as she took the seat opposite him. Beautiful. It was just a fact he could slot away with the sky being blue, and the grass green. But there was a saying old mothers would tell their daughters when husbands went off to war. Distance, Geralt knew, really did make the heart grow fonder.

Her eyes glittered with amusement.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where I might find this brave and noble warrior, would you? I would like to enlist his help.”

“Is that right?” Geralt lips curled at the edges and he raised a brow. “He doesn’t work for free, you know.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” she gave him an indulgent smile. “A favour then.”

“Two,” he bargained.

“Two?” Her eyes narrowed. “I think he’s overestimated the difficulty of this particular task.”

Geralt shrugged nonchalantly.

“The difficulty doesn’t concern him.”

She arched a brow, curiosity in her eyes. “Then what does?”

Geralt rested his elbows atop the table, and her eyelashes fluttered as his thumb gently swiped a stray off her cheek.

“The fact that it’s you,” he said, before softly adding, “and I’ll take what I can get.”

She tried to fight back a bashful smile, but knew by the warmth in his gaze that he’d already seen it.

“Charmer,” she teased, trying to ignore the ghost of his touch.

Geralt’s lips twitched.

“It’s good to see you, little mage.”

“I thought you’d gone and forgotten us,” she said, and though he could hear the humour in her tone, it wasn’t without an equal amount of sorrow. Perhaps a normal man would have also missed the way her smile faltered, the way she couldn’t quite meet his eye with the admission, but not Geralt.

He could tell her of those long journeys across the continent, the way the scenery would blur into nothingness until all he could see were the streets of Skellige. He could tell her of the strangers he met, the women he’d try to find her in and the men she’d enrapture the moment she stepped into the room. He could tell her that not a single day went by that he didn’t think of her, that he didn’t wish to return to her…

“You’re a difficult woman to forget.”

She smiled, a full and beautiful smile that would have sent a normal man’s heart racing. Geralt golden eyes greedily took in the sight he’d been deprived of for too many years.

“Ah! I’ve found you at long last, my lady!”

Her smile faltered at the interruption, if only for a moment.

“Lord Dalvis,” she greeted with a polite bow of her head, “I was unaware you were searching for me.”

“All my life,” Lord Dalvis shot back with what he must have thought was incredible wit.  

Geralt’s jaw ticked at the sound of her laugh and he eyed the man who was looking at her like she’d hung the stars in the sky. Traditionally handsome, if a little scrawny—certainly no warrior—but a sight better than the other lordlings scattered about the hall.

“Yes, well, how can I help you?” She asked.

Lord Dalvis’s eyes softened and he cleared his throat.

“I was hoping for that dance you promised me, my lady,” his dark eyes darted to Geralt nervously, and he shifted when she didn’t answer for a few long seconds.

Whatever comfort Geralt felt at her clear moment of indecision was quickly forgotten when she rose from her seat.

“A promise is a promise,” she conceded, eyes apologetically flicking over to Geralt. “I’ll be back soon,” she reassured him, giving his shoulder a squeeze for good measure.

Geralt sighed as he watched the young lord lead her away.

——— It turned out that Lord Dalvis was only one of many, and if Geralt thought his night couldn’t get worse than watching her ridiculous suitors flock to her without pause, he was wrong.

He’d lost count of the amount of men and women who’d approached him with lust in their eyes, or a pouch of gold in exchange for the head of a political rival. Then, of course, were the ones who whispered insults behind his back.

What strange eyes, very exotic, they charge double for that kind of thing down at the brothel. I can make it worth your while, Witcher.

He’s a nasty man, really, no different from the monsters you hunt, I swear!

Who invited the mutant? Filthy little things, can’t believe he was allowed past the front gate.

He stood out like a sore thumb in a place like this, and in any other situation he would have left by now, but if he left he’d miss her. And he’d been missing her long enough. When she finally did return, breathless and exasperated, Geralt was holding his tankard so tightly his fingers had dented the metal.

“Forgive me. They’re worse than nekkers, they are,” she huffed with a small laugh.

Geralt’s answering smile was tight and she took notice immediately.

“I really am sorry,” she continued her brow furrowed in concern. “Lord Dalvis has become a dear friend to me, I didn’t have the heart to turn him down. You do understand, don’t you?”

It was foolish of him to think that she’d be locked away in a tower somewhere barred from seeing a man other than himself, but the minuscule, irrational part of him flared bitterly. He scolded himself inwardly. How many nameless, faceless women had he been with, women that weren’t her? Even that wasn’t a thought he was glad to have.

“Of course,” said Geralt, gruffer than he would have liked, and moodier than she deserved.

He felt guilt settle in his chest when her shoulders slumped. Geralt sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he began. “Seems I’m bad company tonight.”

He stood then, though he wanted nothing more than to stay close to her. He cleared his throat and stared off at the crowd to avoid the question in her eyes.

“You should find your lord,” the words left a bitter taste in his mouth, but they were genuine. “You’re dear to him too.”

He left without another word, slipping through the crowd with more ease than a man of his size should have displayed.

“Geralt…” she called after him.

He ignored the confusion that laced her tone, and kept his gaze ahead and his feet following the same path. If he gave in, he’d have to speak, if he spoke he’d say too much, and if he said too much, he’d be handing her a hammer and his heart to shatter beneath it.

Skellige may have been her home, but it wasn’t his. He had no home, no place to call his own, nothing he could offer her that would make him a better choice than a lord whose heart raced like a hummingbird’s at the sight of her. He would give her anything she asked for, and he’d give it to her here, in Skellige. Not in some foreign land she’d neither seen nor heard of.

She deserved better than a Witcher and Geralt feared she knew it. Why would she choose him and his life of uncertainty over the comfort of home?

———

His feet led him outside to the balcony. It was only slightly quieter than the main hall, and if Geralt turned away from the view of sparkling waters and the kingdom laid out before him, he could see the merrymakers clearly through the ornate windows that were entirely too tall to be practical.

But he didn’t turn away, instead leaning against the balustrade with a deep frown unconsciously settling on his features.

“You look like a man with regrets.”

Geralt sighed, no matter how nice it was to see his old friend. It had been so very long, and if there was one thing that kept him sane at the thought of leaving her in Skellige, it was the knowledge that her half-brother was there to watch over her.

“Not now, Mousesack.”

“Oh, dear,” he chuckled, “I’m certain of it now.”

“I said, not now.”

“Yes, I heard you the first time.”

Geralt’s jaw ticked, and he shot his old friend an irritated look.  

“Oh, cheer up, Geralt.” Mousesack clapped a hand on the Witcher’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You’re not here often enough to greet us with this terrible mood. The night is young, enjoy yourself! You’ve been missed far too much to be sulking over here on your own.”

Geralt glanced over his shoulder to the dancing couples.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

Mousesack’s brows furrowed as he followed Geralt’s gaze, and realisation dawned on him. He laughed.

“If you truly think so, then you’re a bigger fool than I thought.”

Geralt looked back to the druid with an arched a brow. “You thought I was a fool?”

Mousesack scoffed. “Still do. And I’ll continue to do so with each day you spend pining in the shadows.”

“I don’t pine.”

“You do. Incessantly, and unnecessarily.” Mousesack’s expression softened. “She’d give you the world if you asked it of her.”

That was debatable at best, thought Geralt.

“She has a life here, a duty.” Geralt looked at Mousesack pointedly. “Family.”

“Not much of a life when it’s spent counting down the days until she sees you again. Her duty is little more than a distraction from those thoughts, and her family will remain her family no matter where she goes.”

Geralt was silent for a long moment as he contemplated Mousesack’s words. “You sound like you’re trying to get rid of her.”

Mousesack scoffed with a frustration he’d been bottling for too long.

“You don’t know what it’s like, watching her wither away. This is the happiest I’ve seen her in years, and it’s no coincidence that it happens to be the day you returned.”

It was rare for Geralt to experience remorse, but it was etched into the crease of his brow when he looked back to the dancing couples and realised that, though she twirled around with practiced ease, her smile was empty and her eyes were too busy drifting around the room to focus on her partner. She was looking for him, just as he had been looking for her.

“I know you don’t come back here for me, old friend,” Mousesack continued gently. “If you love her, tell her. I can’t keep watching the hope leave her eyes each time you set sail, and she’s too far gone to accept the stableboy’s proposal at this point.”

Geralt frowned, blinked out of his guilt-ridden stupor and sent Mousesack an offended look.

“The stableboy proposed?”

Mousesack shook his head in exasperation. Good to see his priorities are in check.

“The stableboy, the innkeeper…Lord Dalvis will soon, no doubt.”

Geralt’s jaw twitched and his eyes narrowed at the horizon.

“I’ll tell her.”

Mousesack snorted.

“Good.”

———

When he entered the hall once more, he knew for certain that she was no longer there. Lord Dalvis was glumly sitting by himself and her presence hadn’t lingered. Uncertainty was something he tried to ignore in life—it often was the difference between life and death for someone like himself. But as he walked to her chambers, his thoughts were a jumble.

He would tell her tonight—the secret they both knew but never spoke of. He would tell her his greatest desire and his greatest weakness, and then…then he didn’t know what he would do. He didn’t know what she would do.  

Geralt didn’t have all that much time to think on the matter. His long strides had seen him to her room entirely too quickly, and the door eased open of its own accord as soon as he approached it—a silent invitation.

The room was dim, and bathed in the golden glow of candlelight. It looked as it did the last time he’d seen it, but he was certain that she’d grown more beautiful, and the evidence was right there in front of him, wrapped up in a pretty little pearl-coloured nightgown that left little to the imagination and glimmered in the candlelight.

The task had been difficult from its inception, and she’d introduced an entirely new obstacle it seemed. Geralt watched as she wordlessly fluffed a pillow, her face unnaturally solemn. She hit the pillow with more force than necessary, panting between strikes until he caught her wrists.

She glared down at the pillow as if it had wronged her in his place, and Geralt gently urged her to face him. She stared at his chest for a moment before she sighed.

“You’re upset with me,” she finally said, brow furrowing. “I just can’t figure out what I’ve done.”

Geralt tilted her chin up with this thumb and forefinger and gave her a sad smile.

“You haven’t done anything.”

“Then what is it?” She asked with a desperation that made his stomach churn with guilt once more. “I…I don’t understand. It’s been years and I thought…” she trailed off with a frown. “I thought you’d be happy.”

He opened his mouth, ready to reassure her that yes, he was happy. But he didn’t. Instead, he told her the truth.

“Do you know why I stayed away from Skellige as long as I did?”

She stared down at her feet, the question itself seemingly bringing tears to her eyes. As if the idea of him intentionally avoiding the islands was one she hadn’t even considered. She shook her head, not trusting her voice. His own voice was quiet when he spoke; his words a confession he once thought he’d take to his grave.

“I used to torture myself with thoughts of you. Knowing that if returned I could see you, touch you,” he stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers, “and still not have you. But I ached for more than just the memory of you. I still do. That’s why I’m here.”

She held his calloused and scarred hand to her cheek, goosebumps prickling at her skin as her eyes slipped shut and a tear rolled down to meet the thumb that would swipe it away.

“You know my heart, Geralt,” she said, voice thick. “You’ve always known.”

“I never wanted to be selfish with you. You of all people…you deserve more than I can give you.”

She looked up at him, eyes glassy and cheeks moist. But there, behind the reflection of candlelight in the dark of her pupil was a flicker of another kind—hope.

“Can you give me yourself?”

It was a question that held the weight of the world. To say yes would condemn her, and to say no would be a lie. His head fell forward and their lips brushed as he answered.

“I can.”

He felt, more than saw, her smile, and despite his reservations he knew it felt right.

“Then you’ve given me all I need.”

He dreamt of having her in his arms like this a thousand times over, imagined the taste of her lips, the feel of her skin. He never imagined how intoxicating it would be. Her arms thrown over his broad shoulders, her soft body pressed against him, surrounding him as he surrounded her. He could have lost his senses in that moment, he almost did until he realised his feet were moving in the direction of her bed and she was leading them there.

“You’re sure?” He managed to ask between kisses.

“Yes.”

Geralt paused, his hands caught her waist and he pulled back for a moment. She blinked owlishly at the loss of his lips.

“Really sure,” he took a steadying breath, his control a moment away from slipping, and when she met his gaze he had no doubt that she was aware of how it had darkened.

“Because once I have you…” his jaw clenched as he watched her fingers ease the straps of her nightgown off of her shoulders. “Once I have you you’ll never be free of me.”

“You’re not leaving without me,” she whispered.

“No,” Geralt agreed. “No, I’m not.”

Her nightgown fell to the floor.

———

It was a quiet morning in Skellige, the day Geralt would depart. The wedding celebrations had lasted all week and he suspected that most were still nursing hangovers and sleeping their days away to catch up on the nights they’d lost.

He couldn’t judge them too harshly, he’d lost several nights too, albeit for other reasons. His lips quirked when he heard the squabbling siblings following behind him.

“…yes, I already told you, I’ve checked it.”

“There’s nothing wrong with double checking.”

“No, there isn’t. But this would be the fourth time and that’s a little unnecessary, don’t you think?”

“It’ll also be a little unnecessary when you’re on a ship back here because you’ve forgotten something.”

“Unlike some, I don’t need a ship to travel half way across the world.”

Geralt snorted, regretting doing so when the small chest perched upon the other two he was carrying swayed to the side.

It turned out that the favour she needed her brave and noble Witcher to see to was helping her cart her luggage to the port. She had no intention of staying behind. It was decided the moment she heard of his arrival, and she’d be going with or without his approval.

“Careful with that, my love!”

Despite his exasperation, Geralt couldn’t help the small smile that crossed his lips. When the last of her belongings were loaded onto the wide-eyed and pot-bellied captain’s ship, Mousesack caught Geralt in a hug.

“Protect her for me?”

Geralt nodded, though they both knew the request was merely a formality. “With my life.”

They both turned when a loud scoff sounded behind them.

“Don’t be so dramatic. If anyone is protecting anyone, it’ll be me.”

Mousesack and Geralt shared a look and shrugged.

She did have a point.

Mousesack clapped Geralt on the shoulder and grinned at his little sister. “Well then, she’s your problem now. I expect to see you both here soon, understood?”

She wrapped him up in a tight hug as the captain called out that it was time to leave.

“Of course. It’ll be like I never left.”

They shared a watery smile, and Geralt cleared his throat, an apologetic look on his face.

“It’s time to go.”

With a shaky smile, she nodded at her brother and accepted the steadying hand Geralt held out to her as she boarded the ship. She stood waving to her brother until the dock was out of sight and Skellige was behind them. Never before had she considered the vastness of the seas, how isolated and alone they could make one feel—nothing but flat horizon on all sides.

But she wasn’t alone. There was a hand holding her upright until she could manage a few shaky steps herself, and a broad chest that pillowed her head as they looked out across the horizon together—one filled with wonder and opportunity. Something new and exciting.  

“Where will we go?” She asked and he gave her hip a reassuring squeeze.

“Wherever you want.”

“Hm…somewhere quiet. I think I’ve had enough of Kings and courts, I want a dog,” she mused, glancing over her shoulder at him with a smile. “That, and I think I’d quite like to keep you to myself for a while.”

Geralt hummed, his chest rumbling against her back. “I think I’d like that too. You still owe me two favours after all.”

------

Tags: @dinchenrockt​  @notyouraveragemochii​  @alwayshave-faith​  @no-shxt-sherl​  @szhead31​  @comicbeginning​

I am very bad at keeping track of my lag list, but I didn’t tag anyone who only asked for a Dorian tag. I’ll figure a better system out soon!

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Fic -- And we are kind to snails

Gen, 3700 words. Story time on the Razor Crest! It was obviously way too early to introduce the kid to combat training, but there were other ways to prepare a child for the world, surely.

If that meant Din was occasionally stuck trying to imitate animal calls for the enjoyment and edification of a delighted and indefatigable one-person audience, so be it.

Can also be found here on AO3

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

Din had, he was slowly becoming aware, created a monster.

“Da-wah,” the baby announced, reaching his arms out to be picked up and dropping the holodisc next to him in Din’s lap once he was safely positioned.

“...oh,” Din said faintly, slumping back a little in the pilot’s chair as he kept the baby steady with one hand. “Again?”

The baby turned wide expectant eyes on him, and Din �� who had in fact been planning to troubleshoot the concerning noise one of the engines had been making the last time they took off — sighed. Well, he supposed that would be easier to get done uninterrupted once the baby was asleep anyway.

“Right, again,” Din agreed, and went to activate the ship’s holoprojector on the dashboard before sliding the disc in for the second time that day.

The reading had been a bit of a shot in the dark. It was obviously way too early to introduce the kid to combat training and he may never be suited for it in a way Din would be able to teach him, even in maturity — and for all Din knew about the kid’s species that might not even be within his own lifetime, it didn’t seem worth holding his breath on this one. There were other ways to prepare a child for the world, though, surely. It was probably a bit on the premature side for engineering too, since the kid still had a marked tendency to put everything he could pick up into his mouth at least once, which ruled out most of Din’s own expertise.

He’d mulled it over for a few days until a half-buried memory of his parents reading to him had presented itself for consideration. He no longer recalled what exactly they’d read — only the feeling of sitting nestled between them, his mother’s fingers running through his hair, the way his father’s voice had taken on a specific cadence when he read aloud. That they would sometimes switch off doing the voices for the dialogue so it became almost like a real conversation.

It was… well. He still remembered some of it.

Recognizing in himself no great talent for acting Din had elected to aim for something more practical, at least to begin with. In the end he’d chosen something he hoped would be both suitable for a kid and something useful to teach him and gotten, among a few other things, a holodisc that included information on and pictures of a great variety of animals from around the galaxy. Despite the breezy assurances of some people who were born and raised in the tribe, Din suspected that there was such a thing as too early an age to be introduced to the bloodthirsty treatises of Mandalore the Conqueror.

As it turned out the kid had taken to the whole thing with so much gusto that getting him to go to bed without reading at least a little first was starting to become a minor diplomatic incident. It didn’t seem to matter so much what they actually looked at — Din sometimes wondered if he could have gotten away with reading the ship’s manual aloud every night and had the same entranced reception. But for that space of time every night and sometimes during the day, the kid was glued to Din’s lap and poured his full undivided attention into whatever was set before him, and filling that time with anything less than worthy of that attention felt unacceptable.

If that meant Din was occasionally stuck trying to imitate animal calls for the enjoyment and edification of a delighted and indefatigable one-person audience, so be it.

The holoprojector sprang sluggishly to life and the image flickered until Din leaned forward to give the dashboard a succinct and practiced thump. He really should open that up and take a proper look at it one of these days, it’d been acting up for years and the components were likely older than him. “There we go. Okay, then. What are we looking at today?”

In the flickering light of hyperspace illuminating the cockpit he squinted at the small hovering icons that served as previews for the full articles, looking for one that seemed interesting or failing that an old favorite. Before he could settle on something the kid leaned forward and pointed at one of the icons with an intent yelp, so Din opened that one and gave a surprised huff of laughter when the large four-legged bulk of the creature rose from the holoprojector, its horned head immediately familiar where it was lifted in a silent roar. He hadn’t realized the disc included extinct species. The kid glanced up at him, waiting for him to start the normal routine of saying the animal’s name.

“That’s a mythosaur,” Din said, unaccountably pleased the kid had zoomed right in on it. “Our people used to ride them, a long time ago.”

The kid made a long intrigued coo and reached out towards the hologram, moving his hand like he meant to stroke the mythosaur’s horned, ferocious head.

“Too bad they’re extinct or we could’ve gotten ourselves one,” Din said, genuinely a little wistful. “Wouldn’t that have been something?”

Apparently the kid got just enough of that to fix Din with a wide-eyed look, ears perking up in breathless expectation.

Regretful to burst his bubble Din was forced to clarify: “I don’t have one. They aren’t around anymore.”

After a moment’s pause the baby took this revelation with somber dignity, turning back to the mythosaur. “Bah-ta,” he intoned, waving his little hand at the hologram like he was bidding the creature a solemn farewell.

“You still got one here, though,” Din said, in the hopes of softening the blow, tugging gently on the mythosaur skull pendant the kid wore around his neck most waking hours. ”See how they’ve got the same horns?”

The baby grabbed the pendant and glanced down at it, then between it and the hologram a few times, before holding the pendant up for Din’s inspection with a triumphant happy cry.

“Yeah. We keep the important parts,” Din said, grinning a bit at the enthusiasm.

The baby absentmindedly stuck the pendant in his mouth, small toes wiggling in contentment as he turned back to the hologram, clearly awaiting what was next. Biting his lip Din added ‘toy mythosaur?’ to his inner list of things to look out for in markets when he went to resupply and then read off the sparse information the holodisc’s compilers had thought worthy of inclusion.

“Remind me to find a more exciting version of this for you one day,” Din said as he closed the article. “There’s gotta be some better stuff about them out there.”

The baby gave a garbled sound around the pendant, idly swinging his legs while Din picked a new article at random, coming up with something aquatic and vaguely frog-like from a planet covered almost entirely in shallow oceans. The kid’s eyes sparkled.

“I think you’ll find that’s a lunch buffet too big even for you, buddy,” Din told him, moving through the different pictures of the sort-of frogs flitting between corals and strange tentacle-like sea plants. “They’re at least twice your size and squirt poison. Which apparently has psychedelic effects for some species. Huh. Let’s definitely steer clear of that, then.”

Quite apart from anything else Din had no idea how much the baby’s inexplicable mind powers were controlled by conscious thought and how much was purely instinctual — Din already felt out of his depth enough as it was with this, he could only imagine with dread the results of any unforeseen variables. If Din had already wondered whether the kid could lift himself into the air as well as things around him, it was only a question of time before the baby’s inventive and ever-active brain came up with the same idea. Din tried to keep it out of his mind most of the time, outside of the involuntary planning for endless contingencies he engaged in when he couldn’t fall asleep at night. One particularly fevered evening he had, for a while, seriously considered padding the entire ceiling of the interior of the Razor Crest, just to be safe.

After the frogs were duly ‘ooh’ed and hungrily ‘aaah’d over they continued through a few types of bugs until Din used his veto by right of being the person in control of the holoprojector to get them over onto something else. He never knew the universe contained quite so many beetles or that they all looked basically the same. The Naboo guarlara got a raucous reception, though Din suspected this might have more to do with the fanciful and brightly coloured costumes of the royalty depicted riding on them than the animal itself.

Hm. Maybe hunting down a history book or two might be a good call, actually, and not just for the kid. Din had never had much of an interest in the subject himself — surely the world was bleak enough without going around dredging up the muds of ancient strife and suffering to cloud the waters even further. But these Jedi were currently the best lead he had on finding anyone like the baby out there, and if they had once been powerful enough to challenge a Mandalore… they had to have left tracks somewhere. He couldn’t imagine the Empire having tolerated information about formidable sorcerers, however ancient, being freely available, and sometimes knowledge faded surprisingly quickly if it was stamped out hard enough. Off the top of his head he was having a hard time coming up with anyone among his established contacts who might have an interest in banned literature on the side. People in his line of work did not tend towards bookishness, by and large. But then again they might have clients who did and who had the credits to back it up. It could be a useful trail to pursue, anyway, and less risky than trying to ask around about such a loaded subject in person.

What he’d do if he actually found these people was a bridge he’d have to cross — or burn behind him while fleeing blaster bolts, he could only wryly extrapolate from recent events — if he ever managed to get to it.

Still half-lost in thought Din switched to a new animal at the kid’s urging, then startled out of his distraction when the kid sat up straighter in his lap and gave a call of accusation and reproof that came straight from the depths of his little body.

“Huh? What’s wrong?” Din blinked at the hologram of the round-faced fuzzy creatures and tried to understand what was freaking the kid out about them.

“Eh!” the kid insisted, gesturing hotly at the hologram.

Realization finally dawned; Din had to push down a laugh. “Oh yeah, you had a little run-in with one of those on Sorgan, didn’t you. It’s called a Loth-cat, it’s a type of tooka. It’s not dangerous,” he added, chuckling a little despite himself when the small body in his lap remained rigid with outrage and resentment. He wrapped his arms more securely around the kid and stroked a calming hand over his side. “Some people keep them as pets.”

The kid still scowled distrustfully at the image of the Loth-cat like he found this very hard to believe, but burrowed closer against Din’s chest, tucking himself into the crook of his arm.

“See there,” Din said, pointing out the kittens cowering behind the bigger animal. “It has little ones to take care of. That’s why it’s hissing, it’s protecting them.”

Blinking slowly the kid seemed to consider this, his tiny hand wrapped around one of Din’s fingers. He gave a quizzical sound and looked up at Din, pointing at a kitten too.

“Uh-huh,” Din said. “It’s a baby. Like you.”

Softening slightly the kid lowered his hand again and tilted his head to one side.

“That’s the parent,” Din said, indicating the adult. “Buir. And they’re its children. Ade.”

He still couldn’t quite tell how much language the kid actually understood yet, but it felt like the right sort of thing to do, so he kept going.

“Together they’re a family. Aliit. I, uh. Don’t know if they really do clans, but it’s the same word.”

The kid gave a thoughtful sound and fumbled for a handhold on Din’s armor. Din gave him a squeeze, stroking his head when he butted his forehead against his palm to ask for it without taking his big dark eyes off the hologram.

“Every being gets scared and angry if its children are in danger,” Din said quietly, rocking the child gently on his lap. Since this one had sparked an interest, and to give the kid some time to get used to seeing the animal without fear, they read all the information provided, going through galactic prevalence, social structures, speculated planet of origin for the tooka, anatomy and behavioral patterns, history of domestication and hunting strategies. Din was almost sure most of it went right over the kid’s head, but the attentive tilt of his ears never wavered and he seemed to listen the whole way, even glancing questioningly up at Din when he fumbled a little in getting to the next page at one point and left a pause in the flow. Maybe the facts weren’t the most important part.

The last image of the article was of the Loth-cat asleep, its kittens tucked close all around it. Apparently reaching a place where he was ready to bury the hatchet and extend a gracious hand of peace the kid finally leaned forward and tried to pat the Loth-cat’s head like he’d done with the mythosaur, making a soothing sort of warbling sound.

“Yeah, we’re not gonna mess with its babies,” Din agreed. “It doesn’t need to be scared.”

“Nahwa-lah,” the baby babbled sagely, sitting back and leaning against Din’s side again.

“Well, while we’re on things you’ve already seen before...” Din did a quick search and found the large one-horned head he’d had the dubious pleasure of surveying from extremely up close several times.

The baby stilled in his arms, ears perking up.

“You remember this one too, huh. Guess it’d be hard to forget. Well, it’s called a mudhorn,” Din said. “In the capacity as your father, let me take the opportunity to advise you to learn from my mistakes and leave their eggs the hell alone. My vision still goes double sometimes if I turn my head too quickly.”

“Aaah,” the kid said, imperiously waving his hand in the way that meant he wanted the next page of the article, then let out a squeak when the next picture was a mudhorn contentedly grazing with its calf, plump and with a head nearly comically oversized, the horn only about the length of a human hand. The baby pointed to the calf, his excitement so radiant that Din had to smile.

“Yeah, that’s another baby. Actually...” Din knitted his brow as he scanned through the article until he found the section about anatomy and brought up a hologram of the mudhorn’s skull in profile. “Look familiar?”

The baby’s mouth turned into a little ‘o’ of surprise; he glanced up at Din, stretching up as far as he could to tentatively poke the edge of a shoulder pauldron.

“That’s right,” Din confirmed, twisting a little so the kid got a clearer view. “That’s our signet. Which you should rightfully get most of the honour for, honestly, I wasn’t doing so hot on my own.”

Running a three-fingered hand back and forth over the edge of the signet the baby babbled away, his free hand gesturing towards the hologram. Din nodded and ‘uh-huh’ed dutifully along until the kid’s story culminated in him throwing both his arms up with a shout and looking up at Din in a ‘can you believe it?’ sort of way.

“I did go flying a couple of times back there,” Din hazarded while sitting up straight again, and was rewarded with a firm nod. The kid chattered some more and patted Din’s breastplate as if in reassurance, pressing his small round cheek to the smooth metal and blinking cheerily up at him.

Din’s chest did some strange twisting things he didn’t quite understand.

“How could I be worried out there when I’ve got you watching my back, huh?” Din said thickly, cupping the back of the baby’s head in his hand and stroking his thumb along the downy crown of it, making his ears droop in contentment and his eyes slip closed as he craned into it.

Clearing his throat Din turned back to the hologram and indicated the bundle of nerves right behind the mudhorn’s jaw on the anatomy cross section. “Anyway, it went down so quickly because I managed to get it right here after you incapacitated it. Cut that connection and it’s lights out right away. Odd quirk of anatomy, but there you are. You’d do better to snipe it from a distance, though, under normal circumstances — if I didn’t have a set time I had to be back with the egg it probably would have been smarter to lie in wait until it emerged from the cave on its own, shoot it before it even knew we were there. Even tossing a few grenades into the cave would be a better choice than taking it on up close, if you don’t have to worry about the state of the egg. I’m sorry, I realize it is probably a bit on the early side for tactical reviews for you,” he added apologetically, as the baby blinked at him in what looked like well-meaning and attentive incomprehension. “...I’m not very used to having conversations about anything else. I’ll work on it.”

Thankfully the kid was already a far smoother conversationalist than Din and simply tugged on Din’s hand insistently until they could go back to the mudhorn calf, squealing happily as he spotted it again, so Din rather assumed he was forgiven.

The next animal was another bug, so Din quickly skipped it while the kid looked the other way. They detoured through the squills of Tatooine, who despite being largely composed of leathery skin, teeth, aggression and generalized malice got a much friendlier initial greeting than the small fuzzy Loth-cat had. Go figure.

Then they reached one that made Din trail off mid-sentence and grow quiet.    

The creature itself was something small and pointy-faced and furry that lived in the high mountains of Alderaan — or at least it had, before, well. There was a twinge of something he couldn’t place in his gut; he’d heard about it, of course, since he hadn’t been actively living under a rock at the time and the destruction of an entire world is the sort of thing that fights itself to the front of people’s minds no matter where you go. It had seemed nearly absurd, though, hard to really imagine, enough so that he hadn’t thought much about it one way or another until he’d seen the look on Cara’s face when she heard the name of her homeplanet spoken by the wraith-like shade of the empire that destroyed it. She had looked the way Din felt hearing ’Mandalore’ from Gideon’s mouth.  

This holodisc must have been put together a while ago. The creature wasn’t marked down as extinct yet.

Din glanced down at the kid, who was already looking up at him, getting a bit heavy-eyed but otherwise perfectly cheerful, not seeming to suspect anything was amiss. A collection of memories stirred in the depths of Din’s mind, though mercifully vague and transient — something about the beginning of the war, his parents’ voices, low and worried, conferring in the kitchen when they thought he’d fallen asleep, the slight brittleness to his father’s smile when he called him home from play in the evenings, just a bit earlier than he would have before. He wondered now if they’d been planning to leave or if they had surmised, probably correctly, that there would be nowhere truly safe to go and that the only thing they could do was to shield him from the worst of the fear.

He’d been frightened anyway, of course, but they’d tried. It seemed to him an ancient, unspoken sort of pact, that trying and that fear. A bittersweet creed all its own.

“Let’s skip this one for now,” Din said, as lightly as he could manage while he skipped the article and wrapped one arm more protectively around the baby. “Maybe another time.”

The kid didn’t seem to mind, only gave a contented yawn and turned towards Din’s chest in that way that meant drowsiness was finally catching up with him, his ears fluttering languidly. Din found a smile tugging at his mouth and started on the next animal anyway, in the knowledge that it would probably do the trick.

Din’s hunch was right; between the rdava-bird’s colouring and their mating calls the baby’s eyes were starting to slip closed every so often and he had curled himself up completely in the crook of Din’s arm, sucking absently on the pendant while he fiddled with the edge of the cloth of Din’s gambeson. Finally, in the middle of a description of the bird’s favoured habitat, his head drooped towards his chest and Din decided it might be time to call it.

“Time to sleep?” Din asked, stroking his thumb over the kid’s forehead. The baby gave a weak cry of protest and struggled to sit up a bit, managing to keep his eyes open for all of five bleary seconds before they fell closed again. “Sssh. Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere, you can sleep. I’ll be here.”

Whether because of the words or simply the cadence of his voice the baby relaxed, gazing up at Din with soft-eyed sleepiness and the perfect trust that still made Din feel a little dizzy if he let himself think about it too hard. He swallowed and stroked the baby’s ear, rocking him slightly when his eyes finally slipped all the way closed and stayed that way.

“I’ll be here,” he repeated quietly, holding the kid for longer than he probably needed to before getting up to place him in his seat and tuck him in.

You have no idea how desperately I NEED Mando having to actually tackle a children’s picture book about mythosaurs and being persuaded by big hopeful eyes to do the voices, I’m probably going to have to write it for the sake of my sanity if nothing else

Title is from Fleur Adcock's poem 'For a Five Year Old', because the combination of that poem and this show, what is the word... absolutely devastates me emotionally.

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Thirty-One: Boiling Water ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

Another day...another away basketball game. Which means a pretty empty classroom for the Home Ec group.

And Sasuke still has a lot on his mind regarding the class.

It’s true that he’s really enjoyed this semester. He had his doubts in the beginning. It has a bit of a reputation for being...well, girly. Of course, now he knows better. Sewing, cooking, cleaning...it’s not a girl thing, it’s a person thing.

While most of his classmates are underclassmen girls, they’ve subtly - in their own way - help impress just such a fact upon him. Doesn’t matter what you are. Got a hole in your shirt? You can fix it, just gotta know how. Need to make a dessert for a friend’s potluck? You can make one, just gotta know how! And literally everyone needs to know how to clean. Otherwise...you’re just gross.

In short, he went from one of those senior guys to a better equipped soon-to-be-adult. And also from someone rather intimidating in the class to the girls’ favorite person to fill in on gossip and ask opinions for. From scary upperclassman to adopted older brother of the class, really.

Well...for everyone except one person.

Hinata’s been...different. Mostly because she’s a senior, like he is. But also because she’s pretty much teacher number two. A copilot for the class, but especially for Sasuke. She helped him catch up in a variety of the class’s aspects, but especially cooking. Which his mother has been ecstatic about.

And over time, it’s become less about him learning from her, and more just...hanging out with her. They use free days to just...sit and cook things and talk. He hasn’t ever really had a friend like her before. Mostly he’s only ever just been commandeered into friendships like that with Naruto, or Shikamaru, or any of the other guys in their year. Any girls he’s met have generally been obnoxious and only wanted one thing from him.

...ironic then that the one he’s been able to tolerate and actually befriend...he’s been trying very hard not to feel more than that for.

He didn’t even mean for it to happen! It just...did! She’s so kind, and soft-spoken, and sweet...and she’s never treated him like the other girls have treated him. Like some kind of prey to be stalked and hunted down. It drives him up the wall...no, Hinata just treats him like anyone else. Like a friend.

And...and that’s what he wants.

...ugh.

It just so happens, too, that this entire conundrum is coming up as the semester is about to end. Technically Sasuke only needs one semester of this class to meet his requirements for graduation. And at the beginning of the year, he had assumed he’d be thankful once it was over. But now...he’s not so sure. And not just because of Hinata. He genuinely enjoys the class, and wants to stay.

There’s just one problem: his dad has been hounding him about taking as many “attractive” classes to colleges as he can. And needless to say that a Home Ec course doesn’t really do much for him in that regard.

Which leaves Sasuke in a bit of a bind. Does he ignore his father’s very obvious hinting and risk making him mad? Or does he abandon one of his favorite classes to please him (and whatever university ends up accepting him), making himself all the more miserable?

It’s been bugging him for a few weeks now...and he really isn’t sure what to do.

So...he decides to ask the one person he thinks he should.

“Another quiet day,” Hinata muses, letting her bag rest near the table she always sits at. “Well...want to cook something?”

Sasuke doesn’t reply at first, and her head tilts curiously.

“...Sasuke?”

“Could we maybe do something...else first?”

“Um...sure! What...what were you thinking?”

“I’d like some advice.”

Pale eyes blink in surprise. “...okay! Um...would you like some tea for while we...talk?”

“...yeah, that’d be nice.”

Nodding, Hinata fetches one of the Home Ec room’s kettles, filling it with water and letting it sit on the stovetop. “Is...everything okay?”

“Y’know how I mentioned changing classes the other day?”

“Oh...yeah. Still haven’t m-made a decision yet?”

His head shakes.

“Well, I...I don’t know if I’m really the person to ask, Sasuke.”

“I already asked my mom. She said I should stay.”

“...I take it you, um...you haven’t asked your dad?”

“No. I already know what he’d say. And...I didn’t want to risk bringing it up and having him make up my mind for me, y’know?”

“Yeah...I get that.” Going quiet for a moment, she seems to mull that over. “...what do you want to do?”

“...I want to stay.”

“...but?”

“But...I don’t want my dad to get angry. I don’t want to risk screwing up my college apps.”

“Will half a credit really make or break you…?”

“No. I don’t think so? I don’t know!”

Holding up a hand for a pause, Hinata lets the kettle build to a steady whistle before pouring two mugs of tea. “...here.”

“...thanks.”

“Let’s sit.”

Sasuke follows, holding his cup and not yet drinking. It’s almost more soothing just to hold it.

“...before, when we talked...you said you liked this class, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And that you...you already know your major, and...what kind of job you want?”

“I guess. It’s not really that I...want it? More just I guess it’s what I’ll do.”

Hinata’s eyes lower to the table, clearly thinking. “...do you...enjoy the things we do in class? Like...would you consider them hobbies, now?”

“...some of it? Cooking, yeah. I was kinda meh about it before, but...now I really like it. The rest is just useful.”

“...then I would stay, if I were you. Your dad can’t throw much of a fit about half a credit, right…?”

Sasuke sighs, a hand running back through his hair. “...I guess not. I just…” There’s a beat of hesitation. “...my dad’s pretty strict with my brother and I. Itachi’s already getting his undergrad in business this year, and he’s going on for a master’s. I don’t even think he wants to, he just feels like he has to because Dad pushed him into it. And then he started doing the same to me when Itachi started college.”

Hinata’s expression sobers. “...I know how that goes. My father and I, we...we had a big f-falling out when I was younger about what I wanted to do. When I told him I was going to take a year off...he told me he was cutting all support once I graduate.”

“What?!”

A nod. “He doesn’t think it’s proper. So I’ll be on my own. But I don’t have a plan...nothing’s ever felt that c-clear to me. I wanted the year to take and just...discover myself. See if...there was something I wanted to pursue.”

Sasuke’s brows furrow with a frown. “...I still say you do culinary stuff. You’re so good at it, Hinata! And you clearly enjoy it! Screw your dad and his snotty standards. Take a year, explore, and then go to culinary school. Look...I know there’s a pretty good program with the local community college. I bet you’d do great, and it wouldn’t be very expensive. Hell, I’d help you if I could.”

At that, her face slackens in surprise. “You...you really…?”

“You’re like...the nicest person I know. If your dad’s gonna treat you like that, it’s his loss, not yours. It’s your life, ‘nata. Do what you want with it.” Sasuke takes a gulp of tea in a spike of temper, feeling it burn down his throat. “...and if you open that baker you talked about? I’ll come work for you - do your books and stuff. Doesn’t matter what I’m doing otherwise. I’d do it.”

“But...w-why…?”

“Cuz you’re my friend. And I want to support you. Look...I know it’s only been a semester, but...you’re one of my best friends. Maybe even my best friend. So what kinda friend would I be back if I didn’t do that much, huh?”

To his own surprise, her jaw trembles, tears beading along her lids. “No one’s...n-no one’s ever...told me that before. Just...said I should do it.”

“Then you need to find better people to be around,” he mutters stubbornly.

“...thank you, Sasuke. Heh…” She dashes at her eyes with a sheepish smile. “...this was supposed to be advice for you...not me.”

“Hey, it’s a two-way street. I’ll stick to the class. That much we pretty much already knew anyway, right?”

“...right.”

Sasuke’s eyes flicker between her own, which stare a bit somberly at the table. “...it’ll be fine, Hinata. Besides, we’ve got a whole semester before we graduate. You can make some plans between now and then. Just...forget your dad and his attitude. It’s all gonna work out.”

“...I hope so.” Finally looking up, she gives him a rosy-cheeked smile. “...I’m glad you’re staying. It...it means a lot to me to have you to talk to, and just...y’know...hang out with. Is...is that lame?”

“...nah, it’s not lame at all.”

                                                           .oOo.

     (This is a sequel to days 98, 108, 139, 227, 284, and 301!)       Heyyy, guys - sorry for the unexpected two day break. But uh...I'll talk more about that below for anyone wondering. For now, about the drabble!      We're back in the Home Ec verse! I love this one, for a couple of reasons. Mostly cuz it's just so domestic and slice-of-lifey, y'know? It's relaxing, even when writing more stressful parts for them like this one. I dunno. It's just nice xD Not really a full 'story' per se since not much really...HAPPENS. But it's one of my favorite series.      Anyway, a lil behind-the-scenes for a second, which comes first with a little warning: the rest of the year is going to be VERY busy for me due to some irl changes happening this month. The next two weeks especially, but it'll probably drag on until at least the new year...I dunno. But in short, I've been missing so many days the last few weeks because life is REALLY stressful, and I've just been too tired. Add in that I have a chronic illness to deal with, and just...yeah. I get behind and have to take breaks.      And honestly I'm getting very burnt out by a whole year of writing an average of 1500 words A DAY. For reference's sake, this challenge JUST past 500,000 words. And I also did SHM, which was another 30,000, and ANOTHER ship month which was 75,000. That's over 600,000, and that's not counting other side projects I've done. So yes, I write other things too, but that makes this challenge all the more...well, challenging. For reference, today's prompt was for November 27. That's how far behind I've gotten. But there's just...really not much I can do about it, sadly. I don't have time to make them up, and likely will just have to drag the event out past December 31. Then on top of that there's organizing all the mini series for AO3, and just...yeah. I'm gonna need a LONG break once that's done before I even THINK of taking on all the projects I want to that will stem from this challenge.      SO, in short...just please be patient with me ;w; I'm doing my best, and in the end - as much as I love this - it IS just fanfiction. Real life has to come first. So I hope you'll bear with me for the last few weeks, and then the much-needed hiatus once it's over to recup before hopefully turn some of these into proper fics. We'll see how life goes.      But, that's enough rambling out of me! I just thought I'd elaborate a bit in case anyone was curious. I'm all right, just...very busy and stressed ^^; So I'll just have to take this challenge as I can. But thanks to everyone sticking with it. I appreciate it! On that note, though...I better go. Thanks for reading!

[bwicblog]

> [Part 1] Close Encounters of the Zombie Kind

[Pheres (RS) embarks on a zombie-observation expedition with his new research assistant, Laledy (SS); an ex-soldier, Faizah (BB); and a local guide, Cennef (XR). When they decide to livestream the adventure in a group chat, things, as predicted, go horribly wrong.]

EXCERPT:

XR: also, there could have been unattached larva down there

XR: where do you think they come from in the first place

RS: an oviposter, presumably, but clearly i was misguided

SS: (Storks!)

RS: a stork's oviposter

RS: hahaha

LP: The chat sure is uncharacteristically silent lately... >ooo<

LP: Or maybe I am just on at the wrong times! :o >ooo<

LP: Or maybe I am just on at the wrong times! :o >ooo<

RS: | Haha | It has Been a Quiet Day | ! |

RS: | And Now a Quiet Night |

RS: | I Expect All of Us are Busy at Work | ? |

RS: | Or Out | It is Still a Festival Week |

UV: Or because the end of the Festival Week is coming. A lot of couples are no doubt out celebrating the last nights.(edited)

RS: | Haha | Yes | ! | =:) | I Almost Wish I was Out |

LP: Ah... That does make sense. >ooo<

LP: How come you're not? >ooo<

RS: | Because I am At Work | ! | Here | Look |

SS: (Ey, pal, nonna that 'quiet night' hoofbeastshit, you're gonna up and jinx us!)

RS has attached VID345345.MOV! It's a quick pan of the camera over a dark, white-sanded desert. There's rock formations all around - a brief glimpse of a jadeblood and a brownblood, faces slightly blurred by the motion - and the sound of chattering off in the distance. The camera cuts when something whoops.

RS: | Not as Exciting as Festivities | Sadly |

RS: | But Occasionally One must Miss Them | Haha |

SS: ('It's a quiet night's, like, the last ish peeps up and say afore they get mobbed by thirty zeds and become one with the horde.)

UV: What sort of business do you have out in an area like that? If you do not mind me asking, that is.

LP: Oh! You're out in the desert? >ooo<

SS: (Bit athis, bit athat, bit a not gettin bit by zeds! (\eue/) )

SS: (Ain't sure how much Pher's up and down for spillin the deets of, tho, so: (\oxo/) )

RS: | Haha | Yes | We Are | ! |

RS: | And Our Business is Hunting Down a Lair of Zombies | So Far | In Theory |

RS: | Currently | Our Lovely Guide is Reorienting Herself |

RS: | And I Think Her Mother is Eating Something | I am Trying Not to Look | Personally |

RS: | | I am Always Up for Spilling the Deets | I am Afraid |

RS: | I Scored Dreadfully on the Internet Safety Part of My Schoolfeeds | =:B |

SS: (I'm totes watchin! (\eue/) )

SS: (Fascinatin stuff, this.)

LP: Ooh.. :o >ooo<

LP: Sounds interesting. :) >ooo<

SS: (And LUL.)

SS: (Hey, Pher, I got one a'those fancy personality questionnaires for you!)

SS: (It tells you what kinda zed you identify with most based on your credit chit code.)

UV: What sort of zombies then, if you are so willing to share?

MH: Oh he's back.

MH: Glad to see you didn't die, RS.

RS: | Mm | Pass | Laledy | ! | But Thank You |

RS: | Perhaps You can Get One of Our Friendly Resident Chat Members to Fill That Out for You | =:B |

RS: | And | We are Looking for Cuckoo Zombies | ! |

RS: | But So Far | We have Just Found a Number of Floral Zombies |

MH: The hell are cuckoo zombies.

RS: | I have Been Taking Pictures | If You'd Like to See | =:) |

RS: | | And Of Course I didn't Die | Haha |

RS: | They are Victims of Parasitic Birdwasps | ! | Their Eggs Hatch Within Dead Bodies |

RS: | And Puppet Them Until They are Large Enough to Burst Free | Which Is | Oh |

RS: | Three or So Nights | ? |

RS: | They're Very Hard to Witness in the Wild | ! |

BB: Very hard. or no one wishes to Bother with getting insects Burrowed into their skin and horns.

BB: Hard to tell.

RS: | Haha | We are Not at Risk of That | I Keep Telling You That | ! |

RS: | Adults Do Not Live This Far in the Desert |

RS: | They Need Plants to Pollinate | There are No Plants Worth Pollinating Out Here |

RS: | Have You Located the Stone Pillar Yet | By the Way | ? |

BB: Perhaps they are Busy working their day joBs. too. One might come home early. Similar to finding a quad mate in Bed with another.

RS: | | Are We the Quad Mate in This Metaphor | or the Bed | ? |

BB: Exactly.

RS: | Or | Wait | No |

RS: | Are We the Other | ? |

BB: The stone pillar is not too far away. yes.

BB: All I am trying to get across is that if there is adults. it will not Be happy with us going into its territory.

SS: (Well, that's what you've up and got walkstubs for, pal! (\eue/) )

RS: | | Oh | LP | ! | My Apologies | We have Tromped All Over Your Conversation | =:c |

SS: (And a talkbox, for your last words, ofc.)

BB: I would rather keep my walkBranches to remain walkBranches and not walkstuBs.

SS: (For that, pal, you're gonna hafta chat with the peeps what up and make dictionaries'n ish up.)

SS: (Or slang, whatevs.)

BB: I did not know that I would have to consult a dictionary to say that I wish to keep my limBs in tact.

SS: (Nah, pal, for that you'd hafta up and learn how jokes work! (\ouo/) )

RS: | Oh | Damn | I Think We Spooked Her Off |

RS: | | Somehow | Hahaha | Um |

RS: | Faizah | ! | You Worry | So Much | =:B |

RS: | Please | Relax | No One will Be Losing Limbs |

RS: | Not Even the Walkers |

RS: | Are You On Your Way Back Over | ? |

UV: Well if you did. I am still here. I was simply looking for a little more information on Cuckoo Zombies while you were occupied.

BB: I will Be Back soon enough. I am sure. I will also Be making sure that the only thing that does lose limBs is the walkers.

SS: (Yeah, pal, I totes wonder what did it?)

SS: (Bodysnatchin flapbugs what're up and puppeteerin peeps bods ain't made nobody queasy, like, ever. (\unu/) )

MH: Gross.

SS: (Soz, pal, didn't mean to give you internet cooties. (\unu/)

SS: (Leastways they ain't makin their waay outta here.)

BB: SS is an enjoyaBle fellow. in case you were wondering.

UV: The variety of species that parasitize trolls has always been rather fascinating, I thought. Of course, I have always done any observations from a distance.

SS: (Aww, pal, careful! You're gonna make my kokoro go doki doki. (\unu//) )

BB: See what I mean.

SS: (And hells yeah they are, pal!)

SS: (S'like a fun lottery system: erry time you think you're up and safe, boom! Turns out whatevs ish you're lookin at can totes be a parasite, too!)

RS: | Oh | If You are Interested | I can Stream Some of Our Expedition For You | ? |

RS: | It Doesn't Beat Real Observations | Of Course |

RS: | But If You are Interested | =:) |

SS: (I mean, like, if you up and think about it, we're parasites. Ain't like lusus naturae's the same species as you'n me.)

CC: eugh, yeah, fascinating. Tell that to all the jackwagons that get consumed in the deep woods.

CC: are you out hunting or something, RS?

UV: If it would not trouble you, Pheres. I would enjoy it. Thank you.

MH: Yup.

SS: (Well shit, pal, mb they're gettin all consumed-like on accounta they totes thought it was interestin nuff to see up and close-like. (\eue/) )

RS: | We are Out Observing | ! | No Hunting | Unless Things Get a Little Too Close |

MH: He's hunting. Or something.

RS: | Or | Mm | Feisty |

BB: Looking at things from a giant miscroscope only makes them smaller. doesn't necissarily solve anything.

SS: (Dude, huntin's for losers that up and think they can make a dif with a machete and some spuunk.)

CC: lol, I mean I guess you don't get more front row than that.

SS: (Research's how you up and figure out how to load some weedkiller into a drone and clear a whole section a'the desert.)

CC: it's easier to just get rid of them, but-- oh you're in a desert pff.

CC: I had to get rid of them in the woods, there wasn't enough space in the buildings to move safely with them there, yadda yadda. So is it just a curiosity or-- huh

SS: (And, uh, BB, soz to say, but I think you need a crash course on what microscopes do.)

SS: (Spoiler alert: Makes ish bigger.)

RS: | Ah | A Reminder to Those Who Would Rather Not See | the Dead |

RS: | Say | CC | =:B | There is a Button in the Screen | You can Press | to Make the Image Go Away |

RS: | I am Not Clear Where the Button Is | But I am Certain It Is There | ! |

CC: I don't have a problem, what are you talking about?

SS: (I'm p sure you gotta, like, choose to join the call anyhow.)

RS: | Usually Trolls Who Have to Exterminate Walkers Aren't Interested in Seeing Them Up Close | ! | They Find It | Ah |

RS: | Bothersome | ? |

SS: (It's against their religion!)

CC: oh hell no. I said extermination made it easy to move not that that was my job

SS: (The religion is bein a weenie.)

CC: ^

RS: | I am Fairly Certain It is Against the Sun Cultists Religion to Murder Walkers |

RS: | Or Is That to Burn Them | ? | It's Something |

CC: I'm a salvager show walkers all you want

RS: | | But | Ah | Good | ! |

SS: (Oh, y, pal, ofc, ain't you in the know I'm a sun cultist now?)

SS: (I got a pamphlet from that chick what stopped our van and everythin.)

SS: (Apparently I might be a saint, too.)

SS: (Ain't too clear on that bit. Do white oculars count, or do I gotta be proper dead-like?)

XR: Oh, Pherrres

CC: okay but if this turns into a drink the koolaid fest I'm out, st. SS

XR: erXR: Pheres

SS: (Nah, pal, no kool-aid! Just zed spores. Take a vine erryone, won't hurt once it gets to your pan stem!)

SS: (Wow, that weren't suspect at all.)

RS has started up a call! He's.. clearly using his cellphone to record the desert night, and the audio's been muted. They're still in the sand dunes, by the rock formation - but he turns the camera to beam into it, briefly, and then zoom in on Lal, who's speaking to his phone a few feet away.

MH: What the fuck.

CC: pretty.

RS: alright

RS: this is now on voice to speech!

RS: um

RS: voice to text?

CC: ...not the jadeblood. The desert

RS: i think!

RS: hahaha

SS: (Heyo!) Laledy waves at the same time as he sends the message, clearly speaking into his mic.

SS: (Wtf, way to kill my ego.)

MH: Rude CC.

RS: laledy is fairly pretty, i think. there's no need to be unkind!

XR: ...anyway I'.m. nearly there, is what I wanted to tell you.

CC: okay but can you blame me. This entire chat swarms people for things like that.CC: had to clarify

SS: (At least some peeps up and appreciate real beauty!)

SS: (Insert dramatic sniff here.)

RS: marvelous!

SS: (LUL)

SS: (Nah, pal, too late, I'm cryin already. (\eue/) )

CC: how many people are joining you, RS?

CC: pffff lol

UV: Seems like quite the expedition team.

SS: (Enough to form our own miniature horde once we get wasted by zeds! (^_^/) )

MH: Keep the camera running.

MH: I wanna see it.

SS: (Insert thumbs up here!)

SS: (Make sure you up and put it up on grubtube!)

CC: aw continuing research even in the after death. "Do teams remain allied after infection and passing"

XR: no. we'd all be idiot zombies.

SS: (Y, XR, but we'd be idiot zombies 2gether 4ever.)

RS: and oh, look, here's miss cennef's hound. A blurry shot of an alarmingly huge canine. Its jaws are moving, but he keeps pulling the camera back towards the ears. Eugh.

RS: uv, she's eating a floral zombie, by the way. do you want a picture?

SS: (It's the team spirit! (\ouo/) )

CC: love that optimism

RS: ... you all are talking so much

RS: heavens, we're not getting wasted by zeds, laledy

RS: can you imagine the indignity

UV: A picture would be nice, thank you Pheres.

RS: these aren't even proper zombies

CC: is it safe for animals to eat those? I always thought it fucked them up

RS: alright

-- XR has put on her own voice to text, and took her own picture of Pheres from sitting on her giant fennec fox/horned toad lusus --

SS: (I know, pal, I just thought BB needed some help w that wish fulfillment!)(edited)

XR: two can play at that

XR: anyway, I brought the zombie bait

RS: hahaha

RS: you take a picture of the zomb

RS: excellent!

XR: it smells horrid but then again, what else would it smell like

CC: sunshine and daisies

XR: sunshine smells like burning and death

XR: and some of them do have daisy strains I hear

CC: Chanel no.5(edited)

RS: but daisies smell delightful, presumably, to make up for it

UV: XR has a fair point.

XR: a little too delightful

XR: some of them snag you that way

XR: which is why I also brought masks

RS: ah, my apologies, uv

RS: i don't think i'm going to get very close to her lusus

XR: I know they're hideous but put them on

RS: how far did you say this was?

RS: they're cumbersome

SS: (Wtf is these double standards?)

SS: (I mean, I'm totes down for a mask, this ish looks totes badass and post-apocalyptic, but, like, pal.)

XR: if you get silly-panned by some floral scenter, you can't even come crying to me because that's probably the last thing you'll ever do

RS: and we're not dealing with psychogenic on- oh!

RS: you're incredibly silly

RS: but fine

XR: is smell it and lose yourself

RS: pass me a mask

XR: mask passed

XR: oh wait

XR: must document

SS: (LUL)

SS: (Dude, we can... figure that out.)

--  TOO LATE, he's already holding out his camera to take a begrudging picture of his face with the filtration mask on.  --(edited)

SS: (Uh.)

SS: (Duct tape, mb?)

-- XR has posted a picture of Laledy and Pheres in their masks --

XR: dammit

RS: smiley face

RS: haha

XR: you rob me of my glory

XR: how could you

UV: You all look like a proper zombie observation team now.

XR: all right, what's your strife

RS: oh

RS: thank you!

XR: I have a few firebombs, but I'd rather not use them

XR: they go up quick, even when there's not much to burn

SS: (Cutting sarcasm!)

RS: my amazing good looks?

RS: hahaha

XR: you're both hopeless

RS: you're being silly, cennef

SS: (Also a taser, a sword, and a wacking stick.)

XR: your hair isn't a weapon, Pheres

RS: come along! let's just get moving

XR: lovely as it is

XR: what, are you crazy? I haven't even told you what to watch or listen for

XR: hold on a moment

XR: remember, these are cuckoo zombies you wanted to see

XR: they don't behave like other ones

SS: (Idk, pal, I'm p sure he could eat me with that ish if he tried hard enough.)

XR: and god help me if you provoke them, we all have to run for it like giant spotted meowbeasts

SS: (Nah, pal, I only provoke peeps!)

XR: because they might burst prematurely

XR: and come after us all like avenging furies

XR: so we all have to be very quiet and lightfooted. They don't see well, being larvae, but since there's so many of them in one host their sense of touch is excellent.

SS: (Shit, pal, and here I was up and hyped to go hug one!)

XR: would that I were so lucky

XR: anyway, they tend to hide in hives, all curled up and waiting to gestate, unless they're hunting

XR: hence bait

SS: (Wow, you really know how to woo a guy!)

SS: (On pitch week, too. (\unu/) )

XR: Pheres why is he here

XR: no don't answer that

RS: hahaha

RS: for his stunning reparte

RS: obviously

RS: ah! no, sorry, was looking at this

XR: regardless, they should all be curled up before we get to them, but just in case one isn't, you might not see it at first. sometimes they hide in sand dunes instead of rocks. but, if one IS hidden there - what

XR: what are you looking at

RS has wandered a bit far off from the crowd! The camera's been focused on a section of stone for the past few minutes - it finally pulls away to show.. he's been sticking his arm into a crack. Alright.

SS: (Uh.)

He pulls it out a moment later, victorious, and holding what looks to be a bone.

RS:

RS: hmm

RS: never mind, not worth looking at

XR: PHERES WHAT THE HELL

SS: (Y'know that thing we were up and talkin bout with branches and stubs afore?)

XR: YOU COULD HAVE BEEN BITTEN ON THE ARM

SS: (Oh, nm, XR's got it in capslock, nm.)

XR: YOU ARE VERY LUCKY NOTHING WAS DOWN THERE

RS:

RS: cennef

RS: how small do you feel zombies get

XR: well Pheres I know it may stun you

XR: but there are dangers besides zombies

XR: like scorpion lizards

XR: however I assumed that was covered by common sense

XR: also, there could have been unattached larva down there

XR: where do you think they come from in the first place

RS: an oviposter, presumably, but clearly i was misguided

SS: (Storks!)

RS: a stork's oviposter

RS: hahaha

XR: uuuuuugh gods help me

SS: (HAH)

XR: if you are QUITE DONE being recklessXR: let's go toward the main hiveXR: and keep an eye out for florals or fungals, zombies aren't smart enough to have territory boundaries(edited)XR: so even though separate types usually won't horde together, that doesn't mean they don't stray

RS: yes, yes, right

SA: dude

XR: all right, we all need to keep our voices low

RS is not a cameraman, obviously! The footage of the stream keeps shaking as he trails behind Cennef's foxmom, and it keeps shifting away from the desert stretching out in front of them to capture things he thinks are even slightly interesting. A strangely shaped rock! Sand! A scorpion that he carefully kicks with his boot, and then scampers abruptly to the other side of foxmom when it raises its stinger in response.

XR: it's not noise, but vibration

RS: ah RS: yes

XR: you're lucky she eats those

SA: this is either the sickest shit I've ever seen or the dumbest fucking ide@ @nyone's had like ever

XR: there she goes

RS: lay out the bait now so i can catch it on camera?

XR: well I'm sure she's glad for the snack

RS: it is asolutely both, sa

SS: (Omg this is my favorite lusus now.)

RS: hahaha RS: smiley face

XR: you are both dumb and I want you to know that

SA: h@h@h@

XR: in case I die because one of you gets me killed

SS: (She eats stingerbugs AND she ain't eatin me!)

XR: yes, here's the bait, have fun with it.XR: and by that I mean set it out and then we're all retreating.

SS: (Is the bait me?)

XR: at least twenty feet.XR: no, you don't smell enough.

SS: (I'm startin to get mildly concerned about that, ngl/)

SS: (Oh, shit, a compliment!)

XR: it's this rotting meat.

SS: (My pusher ain't right broken yet after all!)

RS: i don't know if that's a compliment

SA: gross

RS: to be frank

SS: (Pher, quit tryin to crush my dreams, aight?)

RS: my apologies

RS: that was cruel and unneccessarily callous of me

XR: you have none because there are none with me involved.

XR: end of story

RS: you absolutely do not smell as much as this rotting meat

SS: (I'm glad you're a big enough person to acknowledge that, Pheres.)

RS: and that is a compliment

RS: hahaha

RS: here, hold the camera

SS: (And ofc I've up and got dreams w you, Cennef!)

SS: (They're the ones where Pher ain't here and you sacrifice me to zeds.)

RS: ah

RS: hold my phone

XR: yes, have him hold it, and then back away

Laledy takes the phone, orienting it at where he hears Pheres. It's somewhat off-angle, but gets most of the scene.

XR: I have Foxmom in case they swarm us but she can really only carry two trolls, even light as the pair of you are(edited)

Or, at least it gets most of the scene when Laledy isn't delightedly filming whatever foxmom is doing at any given moment. There is at least one candid of her yawning, with a dramatic zoom of her teeth.

XR: if you're that desperate I'll send you videos, my gods

XR: this is silly

SS: (I deffo ain't believin you, but whatevs, pal, we'll film this fascinatin ish instead.)

Insert closeup of the rotting meat, pointedly, before Laledy gives in to his actual scientific interests and films the presumed ZOMBIE LAIR.

SA: eewewwww

SA: show us the de@d ppl(edited)

XR: I will because this is just pathetic and also off - there we go

The camera sort of catches Pheres fussing extraordinarily over the meat. It is rotting. It has flies. For all that the audio isn't on, it's not hard to tell he's displeased.

XR: all right. we all need to be quiet.

He drops it --

XR: back up Pheres

XR: now

SS: (Uhhhhhhh)

XR: come back to us

SS: (Uhhhhhhhhhhh)

The screen goes white in a crackle of static, then clears as the light clears.

SA: oh shit is he getting m@uled

XR: stop fussing over the damn meat

RS: shhh i'm moving

RS: moved!

SS: (OW)

RS: you were rushing me!

XR: ugh that was loud

SS: (WHERE)

RS: you're fine!

UV: Well then.

XR: Laledy, back up with me, that might draw a rush

SS: (SURE I'M FINE, PAL, TOTES FINE.)SS: (Where are you?)(edited)

XR: can you feel my arm?

SS: (Uh-) There is some fumbling of the camera, and it's now pointed halfway at the ground.

SS: (Yeah.)(edited)

XR: pity about the footage but I'm not about to get us killed over it

XR: oh

XR: there's one

SS: (Where?)

XR: just peeking up, I see the horns and - oh

SS: (Insert more question noodles.)

XR: there's larva in the sockets

SS: (Insert more capslock.)

XR: most of the scentsponge is eaten too

SA: eeeeewwwwwwwwww

RS: oh, wow, this is amazing

SA: rs you're fucking nuts

RS: hahaha

RS: this is for science, i'll have you know

Lal fumbles the camera again, and it points vaguely in Pheres's direction.

RS: oh, wait

RS: you can't -- mm

XR: aaaaand another - and well that's just great

RS: give me that

SA: @nd presum@bly getting ur zombie rocks off

RS: wha

RS: no one is getting their rocks off

XR: there's a fungus coming and it looks it's been out here a hundred sweeps

XR: look at that growth

SS: (Love to. (\qnq/) )

SS: (Unfort Pheres is a jerk.)

The screen is back to a steady image as Pheres points it at the zombie in question. It's got purple fungus growing everywhere. And: yes, it's gross.

RS: you were rushing me

RS: that is the tragic result of rushing me

-- Cennef takes a photo of a somewhat blurry due to distance but magnificently orange fungal zombie absolutely covered in the stuff, with shreds of clothing over it --

RS: i actually move

SA: gross

SA: grooooooossssss

XR: ...okay so there's two

XR: excellent

SA: eugh does it smell

UV: Well that is quite the sight. And... Double the trouble.

SA: it looks like it smells

SS: (Yeah, pal, like sunshine and daisies. (\eue/) )

XR: fungals don't smell usually

RS: can you see it clearly

RS: uv?

XR: PHERES

SS: (Wow, pal, way to kill my pun!)

XR: I SEE THREE MORE CUCKOOS

SS: (What?)

RS: oh

RS: hm

XR: I HEAR THEM BUZZING

RS: maybe you should get on your mother

SS: (Pal, can you yell that in a way that is less mortally terrifyin??)

SA: oh shit

XR: and - no, damn you

XR: I'm taking care of the fungals, one minute, try not to die or upset the cuckoos.

RS: oh

RS: no, don't - just

RS: stay with laledy

SS: (Uh. Uh.)

RS: and i will take care of the fungals

SS: (I'm gonna stand here and not move at all.)

RS: that does seem a little wise

RS: just

RS: ah

RS: hold still

-- XR swiftly runs around and throws a firebomb at each fungal, because she knows full well those spores are very insidious and deadly and luckily both burn -- (edited)

XR: no, if those had gotten any closer we would be in spore range.

XR: too risky.

SS: (Oh, shit, I can see that at least.)

SS: (Wtf, are you tryin to burn the whole place down?)

XR: also it distracted the cuckoos, they're blind but not that blind.

XR: there's nothing around them.

XR: it won't last.

SS: (P sure they're less blind than me atm, tbh.)

SS: (Fwiw, I am totes never lettin this ish go. (\qnq/) )

XR: good for you

XR: it'll mean you're alive

SS: (This was gonna be so cool.)

SS: (Take good vids!)

SS: (Since I'ma have to rewatch later.)

SA: ...you're blind @nd you went zombie hunting?

RS: um

RS: it's a metaphor

RS: hahaha

-- XR takes a vid of herself staring disapprovingly before swinging at Pheres and the approaching zombies --

XR: ...Pheres

SS: (Pheres blinded me, on accounta his psi is effin bright af.)

XR: don't move

RS: i will move in a moment

SS: (Everythin's spots and ish.)

RS: don't worry

MH: This is the stupidest fucking zombie expedition I've ever seen.

XR: there's a fern zombie approaching

SA: oh ok

SS: (Pal, can we not make this a sitch where you get up and rushed again?)

MH: One of you are gonna get bit, or killed.

XR: and it doesn't look quite as shambling as the cuckoos

XR: who are quite enjoying the meat, at least

MH: Anyone wanna take bets on someone getting hurt.

XR: but I think they'll finish it soon

RS: no one is going to get bit

RS: for heaven's sake

RS: you will have to lose your bet, mh

MH: I said hurt, not necessarily bit.

MP: so uh

MH: Self harm counts because you're all throwing around fire bombs.

RS: did you

RS: heave-- hahaha

XR: That was me and that was for safety.

SS: (Hey, I'm totes offended!)

SS: (Cennef's throwin round -y, zacly.)

SS: (I'm too flammable for that ish.)

XR: the only thing Laledy throws are his words.

XR: which are annoying enough.

MP: dudes r hunting zeds?

SS: (Nah, pal! We're up and makin friends with em!)

MP: streaming too damn badass

SS: (Look, Pher's gonna up and hug that one!)

RS: yes

RS: thank you

XR: clearly we are cuddling up to them, as Laledy suggested

RS: finally someone appreciates it

RS: hahaha

MP: hey I'm paying you compliments here

XR: I'm a bit preoccupied with ensuring Pheres doesn't die

SS: (Or kill me. (\unu/) )

MP: defs do that dude

XR: well thank you for your suggestion

XR: how could I live without it

MP: dying fuckin sucks do not do that

XR: wow, you shock me

MP: v helpful advice I know lol

XR: however would I cope.

SS: (Shit, pal, way to ruin my plans for the night!)

SS: (How tf'm I supposed to spend my Sat now?)

XR: wait

SS: (I ain't made plans for Sunday!)

XR: wait no

MH: Who wants to lay down 50 caegers as the starting bet.

SS: (For what, how long its gonna be afore MH stages dramatic life insurance fraud schemes on all their friends?)

MH: 50 caegers on someone getting getting hurt but that's a good one too.

SA: I'll fucking take it

MH: I'll keep that scheme in mind when I make friends.

MH: 50 caeger starting bid! Who are you betting on getting hurt first?

SS: (I'm puttin 100 on 'way too long - okay, nm, pal, I was gonna make a joke bout you ain't havin none but then you up and just made it sad.)SS: (At least be, like, miffed that you're forever alone.)(edited)

MH: Nah I'm good.

XR: PHERES BEHIND YOU

SA: probs the jade tbh

RS: oh goddamnit

SA: no wait

XR: WE'RE GOING GET OVER HERE

MH: Too late, bid casted.

XR: TELEPORT

SA: d@mn

SS: (Y, pal, on accounta the jade's the one what's up and stickin his fronds into rock cracks.)

SS: (And huggin zeds.)

XR: oh fuck oh damn oh hell

SS: (Wtf???)

MH: Oh shit.

SA: ye@h I w@s @bout to ch@nge my d@mn bid

SS: (Can someone like narrate???)

MH: What's going on over there?

Good thing the audio's turned off! Because the phone's abruptly a mess of static, jerky screen, and then - white again.

XR: hhhhhhh

XR: okay it's down

XR: we need to go

BB: I would hate to be the person who would have to utter this statement.

XR: Laledy get on Foxmom I'm just going to have to chance it

BB: But I told you so.

XR: we're all light

SS: (I hate lits everything oh my god.)

MP: oh fucking shit

MH: Did someone get hurt?

XR: it'll be slow but I have two firebombs left GO GO GO

The stream turns off!

XR: SHE'S LYING DOWN GET ON HER

MP: oh shit

MH: I think someone got a zed on them(edited)

SA: did I win the bet

SS: (Y, SA, I'm totes dead.)

MP: ohhh boy oh no

SS: (This is me confirmin from beyond the grave.)

BB: Unfortunately. SS is not dead.

MH: Who got hit.

XR: PHERES PSIJUMP

SA: ty SS

SS: (That I am extra double blind now.)

XR: TELEPORT

MH: ....Shit.

XR: COME ON

MH: I think Pheres got a zed on him.

MP: ????? If he can teleport what the fuck is he doing

XR: I NETTED IT HE NEEDS TO MOVE

SA: d@ng it!

MH: Maybe he got hurt?

SA: I should@ ch@nged my bid

MH: Like really hurt.

BB: The excess narriration is doing nothing aBout the current circumstance and is only adding excess annoyance to my part.

MP: that's not a good thing dude not even a little

MH: Sucks to be you BB.

XR: ughhhhhhhh

BB: I would concur with that statement.

MH: Glad we're on the same page.

RS:

RS: / alright / ! /

RS: / no one wins a bet /

RS: / i am perfectly alive / or whatever you were betting on /

XR: you need a mediculler

RS: / perfectly fine /

RS: / and alive /

SS: (Can we go back to narratin?)

XR: you won't be if you don't get assistance

MP: what happened dude!

XR: I can't treat that and I don't think anybody in Port Mina can

BB: Which limB do I need to cut off.

XR: fuck off we aren't cutting off limbs yet

MH: But did you get HURT RS?

XR: will you all just shut up with your stupid speculations this is serious

MP: those infections get deadly intense tho

RS: / it's not serious /

XR: YES THANK YOU FOR YOUR HELPFUL INPUT

MH: RS is hurt.

RS: / calm down / cennef /

MH: I knew it.

XR: it's not right now but it could well be and it needs to be taken care of

RS: / it does not even qualify as hurt /

XR: yes it does

MH: I knew someone was going to get hurt.

RS: / i will take care of it at my hive /

XR: do not argue with me, you need treatment

SA: d@mn it

XR: no

XR: you need professional treatment or you will become a fern zombie

XR: you're VERY LUCKY that's a small wound

SA: oh shiiit

XR: but it will spread

MP: def do not do that

BB: I do Believe. even if that is true. that adding more shout poles to the pile will not solve the matter any faster.

BB: We should resort to action. and not yelling over one another.

XR: why yes thank you for being so terribly helpful as if I am not trying to think about what to do right now, however would I cope without the lot of you idiots yapping at me

MP: maybe put the chat down?

XR: Pheres who's your mediculler

XR: or no

XR: turning off voice to text now

RS: / it will be fine /

RS: / take a deep breath / cennef /

RS: / and / ah / - /

RS: / / yes / haha /

BB: So, I do Believe that we shall be making an expressed detour at the next convenient step. I will not say anything more until the injured can come Back to his senses.

MP: I mean I don't think they'll talk to each other here if they all know each otherMP: and are like in the same placeMP:MP: do they do that often

AE: Hello.

MH: Welcome to the shit show.

MH: Some fucks went and bothered zombies and someone got bit.

MH: Or scratched. I don't know.

AE: Do. Not. Touch. Zombies. That. Is. A. Bad. Idea.

AE: Don't. Do. That.

MH: You came in like an hour too late to say that.

AE: Undead. Saliva. Is. A. Primary. Source. Of. Various. Infections. Including. But. Not. Limited. To. Acute. Skinrot.

MH: Again, an hour too late.

AE: I. Was. Not. Here. One. Hour. Ago.

[snarktheater]

Carve the Mark — Part 2 (Chapters 12-14)

After all the bonding our protagonists have done, it's time to throw a wrench into their friendship/budding romance. Because betrayal is the road to a healthy relationship!

More seriously, I'm having a hard time feeling sympathy for Cyra's feeling of betrayal, understandable as it is. They bonded for…what, a few days? Meanwhile, Akos has been captive here for two years. Of course he's going to take the first chance he gets to high-tail it out of there! What did she expect?

That said, in terms of Cyra and Akos's friendship/probably romance…I'm actually kind of ambiguous about this. On one hand, Akos has to show defiance because, well, Stockholm Syndrome is right there around the corner, so if you want a healthy romance to emerge he first has to fight off his captivity. And yes, I know Cyra is also a victim of Ryzek's abuse, but she still holds power over Akos, so it would still count.

On the other hand, he still used her disability (yes, I'm calling it that, because…that's what it is) to drug her against her consent, which is pretty skeevy. Especially considering they don't sleep anywhere near each other, so it's not like proper stealth wouldn't have accomplished the same effect as this. She does sleep and all.

So what we gain in making sure Akos doesn't look like he's falling for her out of misdirected emotional abuse, we lose in making it look like Akos doesn't respect Cyra's humanity. Which would be fine if he was just trying to escape, but again, I'm fairly certain the book is moving them to an eventual romance or at least friendship, which is where that detail makes all the difference.

We're off to a great start with this part, aren't we?

Ryzek blames Cyra for Akos's escape attempt, because…well, he's gotta be an abusive jerk to her 24/7 or we might actually think he's a real person.

“[A currentstick] was our mother’s favorite [weapon] […] An elegant choice,” he said, still without turning around. “More for show than anything; did you know our mother was not particularly proficient in combat? Father told me. But she was clever, strategic. She found ways to avoid physical altercations, acknowledging her weakness. […] You should be more like her, sister,” he said. “You are an excellent fighter. But up here . . .” He tapped the side of his head. “Well, it’s not your strength.”

This…has the potential to be interesting. We know Cyra is not stupid; she studied a school of combat based on strategy all on her own, she's cunning enough to see through Ryzek's political plays, she…well, I'm sure there's more. Point is, I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to read her as stupid. So when Ryzek thinks of her as stupid, it could be the result of her successfully deceiving him. But if that's the case, you've done a pretty poor job of conveying it to us. It sounds like Ryzek is just abusive and ignorant, and like Cyra has no agency whatsoever in this situation.

Anyway, Ryzek has the brothers brought in to administer a punishment. Which is… swap memories with Eijeh. If he does it enough, Eijeh will start internalizing some of Ryzek's personality. Plus…this shit:

“A person’s gift proceeds from who they are,” Ryzek said. “And who they are is what their pasts have made them. Take a person’s memories, and you take the things that formed them. You take their gift. And at last […] I will not have to rely on another to tell me the future.”

I can't really argue this logic, although I do have to wonder: does this mean Ryzek could theoretically steal anyone's power? Or would he lose his own power if he traded too many memories away? And if Eijeh internalizes some of Ryzek's personality, shouldn't Ryzek do he same with Eijeh's memories? Moreover, how does Ryzek know this will work? Has he done this before? Cyra doesn't sound any more sympathetic to Ryzek for trading one memory with him, nor him to her, that's for sure.

I don't know, it's not the worst idea ever, I just feel like it needs more exploration rather than being stated as obvious.

Akos tries to kill Ryzek, because…did I mention Ryzek has a tendency to bring his prisoners to the "Weapons Room", which is exactly what it sounds like, and to keep them unrestrained? Because he does that. Akos is overpowered by Vas, but still, that sounds like a bad idea.

Vas pressed a shoe to his throat, and raised his eyebrows. “One of my soldiers did this to you once,” Vas said.

Yes, because Vas clearly would remember what happened to Akos two years ago in excruciating detail. If you wanted to milk some pathos out of this, book, you had to do it from Akos's PoV, not Cyra's. Or at least have Akos act triggered and talk to Cyra about it afterwards. This does not work.

Ryzek begins trading memories at once, and it works, of course.

When Ryzek released Eijeh, it was with a strange, bewildered look. He stepped back, and looked around like he wasn’t sure where he was. Felt his body like he wasn’t sure who he was. I wondered if he had thought about what trading his memories away would cost him, or if he had just assumed that he was so potent a personality there was more than enough of him to go around.

And considering what happens for the rest of this part of the book at least, it sounds like he's right.

Eijeh, meanwhile, looked at the Weapons Hall like he had only just recognized it. Was I just imagining the familiarity in his eyes as they followed the steps up to the platform? […] Akos pressed his forehead to the ground, and closed his eyes. And no wonder. Eijeh Kereseth was as good as gone.

I do have to say this, though: if you remove the fact that the book doesn't seem to want to deal with the consequences for Ryzek, or how it pulled out of its ass that this would somehow grant Ryzek he ability to steal Eijeh's gift, this sets some pretty decent stakes for Akos. Now it's not just his and Eijeh's freedom that's threatened, it's Eijeh's very existence. I don't know if the book will manage to use those stakes effectively, but credit goes where credit is due.

So let's focus all on Cyra's angst over Akos's "betrayal" instead! Yeah, that's another issue of sticking to her PoV so far, I guess, but then again…you have no need to stick to her PoV, so I'm not in a forgiving mood. Especially when her issues involve…not being on speaking terms and having to go to official celebrations for the festival instead of the cool illicit stuff they did last time.

"Official celebrations", by the way, involve death matches. Not even with people who are viewed as expandable in some way (which…is probably for the best). No, Shotet people just have a tradition of challenging each other over basically anything, and those challenges can be to the death if they want to. Oh, and they can only challenge someone of inferior social status, so it's literally a tool of oppression.

As a result, people often chose to provoke their true enemies by targeting the people around them, friends and loved ones, until the other extended the challenge.

This is setup for a later subplot, by the way. Yes. This stupid piece of world building only exists because Veronica Roth wants to make this into part of her plot. Good job making the entire society sound stupider as a result.

But anyway, that's way too interesting, let's stick just to angst. Specifically, Akos receives the armor he earned during his training. Why now? I have no clue, but Vas takes the opportunity to tease him about how Eijeh now stays in his room of his own free will instead of being forced. Because again, why would you show that stuff?

And so, after Akos asks Cyra if there's a way to reverse the memory trade (which Cyra isn't aware of, short of Ryzek trading back), we get Akos apologizing to Cyra for drugging her.

“I didn’t mean to involve you,” Akos said quietly. “Oh, don’t patronize me,” I said tersely. “Manipulating me was a crucial part of your plan. And it’s exactly what I expected.”

While I'm pretty ambivalent about the drugging in the first place, I'm…really not satisfied by this scene. Mostly because Cyra doesn't seem to acknowledge that yeah, of course Akos wants out because he's a prisoner. It's all about her pride, her ego, and how she should have known better. It's not like she's not entitled to that, but the lack of nuance really doesn't help.

But who cares about apologies or betrayals or captivity, Akos looks hot in his armor!

I finished with the straps, and stepped back. Oh, I thought. He was tall—so tall—and strong and armored, the dark blue skin of the creature he had hunted still rich with color. He looked like a Shotet soldier, like someone I could have wanted, if we had found a way to trust each other.

Ugh.

Skip to the festival's last day, when they're about to leave on the sojourn. Eijeh is part of Ryzek's entourage now, and he is pretty changed.

His shoulders were back, his steps wider, as if for a taller man, his mouth curled at one corner. Eijeh’s eyes passed over his brother and scanned the street beyond Noavek manor. “Eijeh,” Akos said, his voice breaking. Eijeh’s face betrayed some recognition, as if he had spotted his brother from a great distance.

He's also suddenly in control of his oracle gift now, because…I don't know, evil is always more powerful than good, I guess. And he's willing to help Ryzek with it, too, telling him he foresaw a public act of defiance, but he already has a plan to use it to Ryzek's advantage.

Ryzek narrowed his eyes. “Tell me.” “I would, but we have an audience.” Eijeh jerked his head toward the back of the vessel, where Akos sat across from me. “Yes, your brother is an inconvenience, isn’t he?” Ryzek clicked his tongue. Eijeh didn’t disagree.

See, why did you need to have Vas teasing Akos earlier? This is way more effective to show us that Eijeh has changed. This book is actually frustrating at times, because it does manage to do some good things, but it throws them away or ruins them every time.

But as that quote implies, Cyra and Akos are pretty much shoved away, and they're awkward to each other because of all the betrayal and stuff. But it all gets better when they get to Cyra's quarters on the sojourn ship. See, unlike her room in the Noavek manor, which is utterly impersonal, this place isn't, because…I don't know, she sees it as her true home or something. And she also commissioned an apothecary for Akos.

“You made this place?” he said, turning toward me. I couldn’t read his expression. I nodded. […] “Cyra,” he interrupted. “Nothing is blue. Not even the clothes. And the iceflowers are labeled in Thuvhesit.” “Your people think blue is cursed. And you can’t read Shotet,” I said quietly.

See, she does care! Just not enough to do anything about his brother being erased from existence, I guess.

“How do you keep doing this?” he said. “Keep going, when everything is so horrible?” Horrible. Was that what life was? I had never put a word to it. […] “Find another reason to go on,” I said. “It doesn’t have to be a good one, or a noble one. It just has to be a reason.” […] I knew mine: There was a hunger inside me […] And when I finally named it, I found it was something very simple: the desire to live.

Wow, great character motivation, book, considering we know that neither protagonist dies until the second-to-last chapter at the earliest due to chapter titling scheme. The last chapter is Akos's, by the way, and if Cyra dies, I'm pretty sure we'll have reached peak…Divergence.

So what about that act of defiance Eijeh foresaw? Well, Lety Zetsyvis is on board too, and her father being tortured and driven to suicide has made her pretty angry, so she reveals Ryzek's fate to everyone. No, I'm not sure how she knows. Ryzek's answer?

“That fate . . . is a lie told by the people who want to destroy us,” he began.

Well of course! And it works, too. Same when Lety says her dad wasn't murdered by Thuvhesits. And…well, at least this time the anti-intellectualism is a tool of the villain, not the driving force of the heroes. So at least it's one step above Divergent in that regard.

Lety is sentenced to fight for her life in the arena against Cyra, because Ryzek wants to test Cyra's loyalty and Lety accusing Cyra of torturing her dad is as good a reason as any.

Cue Cyra angsting about now being Ryzek's executioner, Akos somehow figuring out that Ryzek has something to blackmail Cyra with (which we're not even privy to yet), and then it's straight to the arena before dinner. Yes, really.

Cyra is forced to fight without armor or weapon, because Ryzek wants to impress people. I'd pretend like this is interesting, but…no. Cyra is supposed to be a great fighter, so she can easily counter Lety, and her power is basically instant death if she touches Lety, so it ends pretty fast. Pretty OP, if you ask me, even if it does leave Cyra in intense pain until Akos gets to her. Which…yeah, he does.

Just out of sight, Akos reached for me, pulling me against him. He pressed me to his chest in something like an embrace, and said something to me in the language of my enemies. “It’s over,” he said, in whispered Thuvhesit. “It’s over now.”

Ship tease much?

Cut to Cyra's room, where Akos helps her carve Lety's kill mark in her arm (and yes, this includes a title drop, because the book thinks it's clever, I gues). This means we get to see her kill marks…and they're all barred in sign of loss.

“I only marked my mother’s passing,” I said, just as quietly. “Make no mistake, I am responsible for more deaths, but I stopped recording them after her. Until Zetsyvis, anyway. […] Death is a mercy compared to the agony I have caused. So I keep a record of pain, not kills. Each mark is someone I have hurt because Ryzek told me to.” […] “How old were you, when he first asked you to do this?” I didn’t understand the tone of his voice, with all its softness.

This is kind of anticlimactic. Especially when you add the added ship tease at the end.

They also bond over how neither of them says the traditional prayer while carving the marks, and since I have no idea what that prayer is, I'm not sure what it tells us about them. Except that they're special snowflakes, I suppose.

And that's enough grief, so Cyra leads Akos to a crawl space above her room where they wait for takeoff and have more shippy moments.

“See?” I said, lacing my fingers with his. “It’s beautiful.”

Later that…evening, I guess…Cyra gets summoned to Ryzek alone.

When I walked in, Ryzek was standing in front of a large screen […] it took me a few beats to realize that he was reading a transcript of the Assembly Leader’s announcement of the fates. Nine lines of nine families, spread across the galaxy, their members’ paths predetermined and unalterable. […] If he was reading the fates, he was not in a good mood, and most of the time, that meant I should tread lightly. But tonight, I wondered why I should bother.

This feels wrong. We've established that Ryzek abuses Cyra emotionally; she should know exactly why she should bother and the answer is "to avoid more abuse". It's a survival tactic that every abuse victim goes through, and it's also the one that backfires and means victims stay with their abusers.

If she can just decide she doesn't want to bother with it anymore, it basically means ending abuse is as easy as deciding you can't take it anymore, which shifts the onus entirely on the victim. And granted, victims should be helped out of abusive situation, but this framing here is…dangerous, to say the least.

Ryzek wants to display more strength to make sure no one else follows Lety, especially since his investigation of her dad revealed that there are indeed multiple renegade Shotet colonies.

Also, we learn that he's looking for the Benesit children, since he's fated to "fall" to their family and they also have fates. Specifically, the oldest will "raise her double to power", and the second child with "reign over Thuvhe". Ryzek thinks the second child will soon declare herself, and that she's Thuvhesit, so he wants to kill her.

And…wait, does that mean they don't know who the Benesit family was? I wasn't aware that that was a mystery, since the Kereseths and the Noaveks were both families people knew of. The issue was more that, you know, their fates are supposedly inevitable.

I mean, Cyra does raise the objection that he can't kill her until she fulfilled her fate, but he doesn't seem to think that's a big deal.

“You think that I, of all the people in the galaxy, can’t be the first to defy his fate?” “That’s not what I meant,” I said, trying to stay controlled in the face of his anger. “All I meant was that I’ve never heard of it happening, that’s all.” “You soon will,” he snapped, his face twisting into a scowl. “And you’re going to help me.” I thought, suddenly, of Akos thanking me for the way I arranged his room, when we got to the sojourn ship. […] “No,” I said. “I won’t.”

…Yup, the book's going there. She decides that the abuse and blackmail are suddenly irrelevant, and she just doesn't want to. And sure, she argues that he can't actually afford to lose her, since she's such an integral tool of his rule, which removes the blackmail. But the abuse? I don't know, it doesn't matter anymore, I guess.

That was what the challenge with Lety had been, after all: a demonstration of power. His power. But that power actually belonged to me.

So I guess escaping abuse is just that easy, huh. Did she never think about this until now?

The book tries to frame this like Ryzek created his own monster and she's now turning on him. It's an interesting narrative, but it doesn't mesh well with her being an abuse victim. It just makes it sound like she just needed a pretty boy to tell her she can be a good person to realize that she can. And that the abuse was just…a byproduct of the blackmail, I guess?

And that's the end of that. She goes back to her room, apparently triumphant, and tells everything to Akos, because I guess they're back to being friends. Also, they bond over being masochists, because that's the road to love.

“You don’t make any sense to me,” I said to him. “It’s like the more terrible things you find out about a person, or the more terrible a person is to you, the kinder you are to them. It’s masochism.” “Says the person who’s been scarring herself for things she was coerced into doing,” he said wryly.

Truly meant to be.

“You don’t hate me at all,” I said in almost a whisper, afraid to hear the answer. But his answer came steadily, like it was obvious to him: “No.”

I'm so shocked. It's almost like I called it or something.

Anyway, since Cyra has suddenly shaken off her abuse, she decides she might as well also help Akos free his brother. It's not like she can have a personal motive to turn on her tyrranical, abusive brother. She needs a pretty boy to both trigger her rebellion and to give her a motive to keep rebelling.

[ds4design]

Lando Calrissian Ponders a Very Important Baby Gift in This Excerpt From Star Wars Aftermath: Empire's End

One of the most significant events between Return of the Jedi and The Force Awakens is the birth of Han and Leia’s son Ben. In this exclusive excerpt from Empire’s End, the final installment in Chuck Wendig’s Star Wars: Aftermath trilogy, it turns out Lando’s been a bit too busy to pay much attention to his old friends or their babies.

The Aftermath novels have been chronicling the continued fall of the Empire and rise of the New Republic following the Emperor’s death. While they primarily follow a small group of rebels who hunt for missing Imperial officers (and occasionally Han Solo, when he goes missing), each book checks in with characters all over the galaxy; in Empire’s End, due out February 21, that includes Lando. In this excerpt, he recollects how he took back Cloud City, but also has the best idea for a baby gift in any galaxy.

First, here’s the official synopsis of the book:

EVERY END IS A NEW BEGINNING.

As the final showdown between the New Republic and the Empire draws near, all eyes turn to a once-isolated planet: Jakku.

The Battle of Endor shattered the Empire, scattering its remaining forces across the galaxy. But the months following the Rebellion’s victory have not been easy. The fledgling New Republic has suffered a devastating attack from the Imperial remnant, forcing the new democracy to escalate their hunt for the hidden enemy.

For her role in the deadly ambush, Grand Admiral Rae Sloane is the most wanted Imperial war criminal—and one-time rebel pilot Norra Wexley, back in service at Leia’s urgent request, is leading the hunt. But more than just loyalty to the New Republic drives Norra forward: Her husband was turned into a murderous pawn in Sloane’s assassination plot, and now she wants vengeance as much as justice.

But Sloane, too, is on a furious quest: pursuing the treacherous Gallius Rax to the barren planet Jakku. As the true mastermind behind the Empire’s devastating attack, Rax has led the Empire to its defining moment. The cunning strategist has gathered the powerful remnants of the Empire’s war machine, preparing to execute the late Emperor Palpatine’s final plan. As the Imperial fleet orbits Jakku, an armada of Republic fighters closes in to finish what began at Endor. Norra and her crew soar into the heart of an apocalyptic clash that will leave land and sky alike scorched. And the future of the galaxy will finally be decided.

And here’s the excerpt. We hope Lando actually got baby Ben the gift. Or maybe that’s what turned him to the Dark Side?

“Lobot, we’re home.” Lando lifts a dubious eyebrow as he looks around, exasperated. “Guess the Empire didn’t keep up with house­keeping.”

This is the Casino level. Game machines line the smooth blue alac­tite floors far as the eye can see. Sabacc tables, too. And pazaak. And jubilee wheels. Along the far wall are banks of holoprojectors meant to show the latest swoop race down on the track-tubes piped through Bespin’s toxic Red Zone atmosphere. Once, this was a shining pillar of gambling excess: classy and bright with light coming in through win­dows looking out over the sun-kissed clouds. Now it’s wrecked. Trash drifts and tumbles. Machines have been turned over, their credits cut from inside like food from a beast’s belly. The windows are covered over with metal. The holoprojectors are dark. Lobot steps up alongside Lando. The computer forming a half-moon around the back of the man’s bald head blinks and pulses, and at Lando’s wrist is a communication from his friend and cohort:

I’ll look into rehiring staff immediately.

“Do that,” Lando says. Then he thrusts up a finger. “Ah. But make sure we’re hiring some refugees, will you?” The galaxy’s like a cup that’s been knocked over, and now everything’s spilling out. Whole worlds have been displaced by the war. Lando can’t let Cloud City turn from being a city of luxury to being a tent city of expats and evacuees, but he can damn sure give those people jobs. That’s his fa­vorite kind of arrangement: the kind where everybody gets something for their trouble. They win. He wins. The ideal for how everything should work.

Cloud City was always that, for Calrissian. It was a respite—a ref­uge from the Empire while at the same time not existing to spite the Empire, either. He thought, Hey, everybody can be happy, baby. The Empire didn’t have to care. The rebels didn’t need to care. Cloud City could hang in the air above Bespin, separate from all the chaos, from all the strife. Come here, taste a little luxury. Meanwhile, he could mine the Tibanna gas, sell it to whatever starship manufacturer wanted it (the stuff was perfect for making hyperdrives, because with Tibanna, a little went a long way). Meanwhile, Lando could sit back, have a drink, roll some dice, find a lady or three.

Yeah. It didn’t work out that way.

He knows now: In a war like this one, you don’t get to be in the middle. You can’t play both sides. He’d lived his whole life shooting right down the middle, never taking up a cause except the one meant to support his own empty pockets. Those days are over and so is his love of sweet neutrality. When Vader came here, everything changed. He lost Han, for a time. He lost Lobot and Cloud City. He lost nearly everything.

But he gained a little perspective.

And he picked a damn side. Because sometimes, you want to win, you gotta bet big. You gotta put your stack of chits in one place.

It paid off. The Empire is gone. And now he’s a hero of the Rebel­lion (and oh, you can be sure he used that to con more than his fair share of free drinks, not to mention the attention of beautiful admir­ers). But all he wants is his city back. After Endor, he thought he would just be able to sweep in here like a handsome king retaking his throne in the sky—but then that son-of-a-slug Governor Adelhard formed the Iron Blockade. He kept the people here trapped not only by a well-organized Imperial remnant, but also by a grand lie: that Palpatine was not dead. And Lando knows that old shriveled cenobite is dead—because he’s the one who took out the Death Star’s reactor core. And because Luke said the monster was dead. Can you believe it? Palpatine and Vader. Both gone. Two scourges, scoured from the galaxy.

Suddenly he had a second war to fight. Here he thought the Empire was done for and Cloud City was once again his. What an eager fool. Nothing’s ever that simple, is it? It took months and months. He had to stage an uprising. Had to interface with Lobot on the inside. Had to cash in favors with a handful of scoundrels—like Kars Tal-Korla, that pirate. All because the New Republic wouldn’t commit a military ac­tion to retaking the city. He respects it, he understands it, and Leia put it best when she said, “The Rebellion was easy, Lando. Governing’s harder.” The chancellor was just trying to hold on to whatever advan­tage she had—and then with the Liberation Day attack on Chand­rila . . .

Well. All that is over and done. No need to dwell.

Cloud City is his once again. Lando starved out Adelhard. Most of the Imperials surrendered. It’s over. Thank the lucky stars.

He steps forward into the Casino level, and he and Lobot aren’t alone. He’s got a ragtag force with him: some of his Wing Guard secu­rity forces, but some New Republic soldiers, too. It’s just enough to perform cleanup on those who linger behind, clinging to the illusion they can still win this thing.

Together they march forward through the wreckage of the Casino level. He asks Lobot: “The holdouts are ahead?”

Yes. In the Bolo Tanga room.

“Fine, fine, let’s get this over with and evict our final tenants.”

As they walk, Lobot looks over at him as a new communication flashes across his wrist: I am told to remind you that the princess will soon give birth and you have not yet procured for them the standard natal gift.

“What? That’s impossible. She was just—I swear they just got married—didn’t I just get them a nuptial gift?”

It has been the proper biological time. You just do not realize how much time has passed. We have been busy.

“So have they, I guess.”

Also, you never got them a nuptial gift.

He sighs. “Okay, okay. Buying gifts for a kid. Can we get him a cute little cape and a mustache so he looks like old Uncle Lando?”

Lobot doesn’t respond, offering only a humorless stare.

“Fine, fine, I’ll think about it.” His mind drifts briefly to Han and Leia. Han, one of his oldest and greatest friends. And sure, one of his greatest rivals, too. He misses that old reprobate. The crazy times they had!

Good times even when they were bad. And now, Han is with Leia. Hoo, boy. Those two are a pair of rocket boosters firing full-bore. Lando just hopes those two engines are both firing in the same direction—because if they’re ever pointed at each other, they’ll burn each other up.

We’re here.

That, from Lobot. Ahead waits the door to the Bolo Tanga room. Lando can see it’s been sealed with mag-alloy. He turns to Captain Gladstone of the Wing Guard. “We got imaging?”

Gladstone nods. “They’re holed up in there. They’ve broken through to the beam outtake shaft, which in theory would lead them to the engineering sublayer—”

“But the fumes coming up through the shaft will kill them if they try.”

“That’s exactly it, Baron Administrator.”

“So they’re trapped.”

“Like crete-bugs in a beetle-bag.”

“All right, let’s open it up.”

From the book STAR WARS: AFTERMATH: EMPIRE’S END by Chuck Wendig. Copyright © 2017 by Lucasfilm Ltd. Reprinted by arrangement with Del Rey Books, an imprint of Random House, a division of Penguin Random House LLC. All rights reserved.

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