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no-droids · 1 year

Text

Another Rough Day

gif credit @chrishemsworht

Part Twenty of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.7K

Warnings: Angst, violence, canon-typical blood and gore, language, hurt/comfort

A/N: i wanna thank yall for sticking around during my hermit era, in the time ive been gone i am now officially a junior at a university majoring in aerospace and it’s a fuckin nightmare and i hate everything and god help us all literally kill me and I will be posting INCREDIBLY slowly because of that (I’m talkin weeks or months in between updates yall, im sorry I can’t dedicate more time to this but I am going to finish this fic within the next handful of chapters idk maybe 5 or 6 so you shouldn’t have to wait too too long). As a heads up there will be hard angst as we enter the final arc, there will be hurt and it’ll get dark but everything is gonna turn out alright so thanks for sticking with me and continuing to stick with me. im sorry if you dont like it or your expectations were subverted or if this isn’t what you’d hoped it would be after following and waiting around for so long but this was planned a long time ago and it took me a good year or two to recognize that I started writing this fic for me and now I’m going to end it writing for me and I hope yall can respect that

ALSO I asked my best BEST FRIEND in the entire world @cptnbvcks to collaborate with me for this after we both took a very long break from creating and she drew some GORGEOUS artwork for this chapter so it will be posted at the end, everyone please go follow her and say hello

ps brittany girl you’re a fuckin menace i had to use my own two ears and listen to ethan literally say the words “the mandalorian cums, hard” what the fuck was that im actually suing

anyways chapter below the cut lets get serious yall

---

You take two of them down before they even realize they’re being attacked.

Your aim is as swift and steady as if Din were behind your shoulder right now, calmly pointing out which stationary tree to hit next in rapid succession. You’re positioned perfectly at the bottom of the ramp to take full advantage of the ambush, the only thing running through your mind is strategy and the constant calculating of angles and ricochets. The other three troopers are trapped inside the open Crest and you’re right next to a large boulder that you can step behind for cover, but it proves unnecessary as the rumors were apparently true.

They’re… awful.

Not a single blaster is even fired in your direction—you think you see maybe one panicked red shot bounce around in the hull, but that’s it. The troopers fumble for their guns and trip over each other at the unexpected attack—a few scream like children through the modulators, but you’re temporarily deaf to anything besides the screech of your weapon hitting its target and the crumpling of armored bodies.

Later on, if someone were to ask you to describe exactly what happened—who died first, who ran for cover, who cried out for help—you don’t think you’d be able to. You don’t even really feel like a person right now. The entire thing is cold, robotic survival instinct, pure ruthlessness rising in your soul for the first time in your life. It feels sick. Wrong in your bones. Born from preemptive defense in fear of your life, but that doesn’t mean you stop. Not until all of them stop moving.

You empty the entire fucking canister for a handful of stormtroopers, firing plasma and char marks across every square inch of the pristine hull even after the last one drops. Your heart is beating too fast, your finger keeps pulling the trigger multiple times even after the blaster clicks uselessly, completely empty and beeping a warning that it must’ve begun emitting ages ago. Being out of ammo scares you—you suddenly feel vulnerable, even though the very far away logical part of your mind reminds you that they have to all be dead at this point and no physical threat was ever able to graze you.

Regardless, you quickly spin behind the boulder and grab another canister from your belt, giving it a spare check for leaks while the empty one slides and drops to the rocky ground. It’s the first time you’ve ever had to reload this weapon instead of just pointing and shooting, but the mechanics are relatively simple and your brain makes up for your lack of coherent thoughts with lightning fast perception. What's difficult is that your hands are starting to shake now that you’re not aiming, you’re not breathing correctly because you’re not really breathing at all. You can’t tell the difference between the adrenaline-fueled dissociative silence that muffles everything around you or if it really is just that quiet now. No more clatter of armor, no modulated voices or terrified screams. No blasters, no footsteps along the ramp, no birds singing.

You quickly pause to lift your elbow and check the enormous eyes blinking up at you, tiny claws still holding tight to the fabric of your tunic and completely unharmed, and then you force yourself to move. The blaster is held out in front of you while you walk forward and your finger rests on the trigger, begging to be pulled again. It’s suspenseful and terrifying in a different way than before—now it’s less about psyching yourself up for confrontation and more about the fact that any sudden movement could mean your very swift end.

Silence. Silence. You’re numb and raw at the same time, walking up the ramp as your eyes fly everywhere, not even registering the blood or gore, just searching for movement. You don’t know if you feel like a predator or prey, you’re that much more brutal and inhuman because of how fucking terrified you are. You count four stormtroopers in the hull laying crumpled and still on the metal floor, but the one in the far corner only has blood on his shoulder. You quickly swing the blaster around to remedy that, but then—

“P-Please don’t kill me!”

His words remind you of something. Reality, maybe. A world outside yourself and the kid’s survival, the living beings behind the bloody armor your enemies wear.

It’s a miracle your finger stays hovering over the trigger, and you watch him throw the blaster at your feet with a clang and scramble to show you his empty hands. “Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me—I’m not loyal to the Empire, I don’t want to be here, please, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die—”

Behind the mask, your expression furrows. Stormtroopers are loyal to the bitter end, what is he saying? They embrace their expendiality, it’s the only thing that makes them any sort of a real threat. Kuiil told you horror stories about them during your childhood, the cloning facilities and the propaganda they’re force fed since infancy. It’s nearly impossible to find one who hasn’t been raised from birth to serve the Empire, no matter how crumbled and trace its remaining authority may be.

No, this is a trap, it has to be. Your expression twists with dread after hearing him speak, readjusting your aim with the blaster and preparing yourself for the years of nightmares that’ll follow—but then he cries out, “Wait!” and then removes his helmet with trembling hands.

You pause, staring down at him in shock.

It’s him, you recognize him immediately. It’s the same face from a hologram puck you bore into your memory, spent multiple days staring at so you’d be able to spot him under any disguise or circumstances. Oshua Ryler. Your quarry, the fifth puck, the one Din was out Maker knows where searching for before this entire mess happened. A stormtrooper? His puck said nothing about the Empire, this doesn’t make any sense. What is he doing here? Stormtroopers don’t have pucks, they don’t have bounties or relatives or loved ones searching for them. They’re brainwashed, replaceable, faceless soldiers in suits of armor and they don’t even have names.

“Please don’t kill me,” he begs again, staring at you with wide eyes even as he cowers. “I have a family, I-I just want to go home, please—”

“Shut up.” You can’t think straight with him crying like that and you’re wasting so much time just standing here trying to process when your brain had to literally shut itself down to even do the things you’ve already done. You have to kill him and escape, you have to—you can’t trust this complication, not with the tiny claws currently digging into your back and reminding you of your purpose, but it was so much easier when he had on a helmet. You hate looking at his face. It’s going to haunt your dreams now, just like the man you stabbed on Corellia.

“Please don’t kill me—please don’t kill me,” he screws his eyes up and breathes over and over instead, and your stomach wrenches with disgust. His posture and expression are so fucking pitiful, you can barely keep your eyes on him through the overwhelming nausea and aversion that climbs up your throat. He’s with the Empire, and they’re looking for the baby. You know what needs to be done. Pull the trigger, just one small movement from you and it’ll be all over. It would be the easiest thing in the world, it would be so easy.

But then instead, you ask, “Why are you a stormtrooper?”

“I’m n-not—I hate the Empire—”

“The Empire is ashes.” You don’t know if you’re yelling or whispering with how much blood is roaring through your ears. “They hold no power anymore. Why are you with them?”

“Because the one thing they have left is money!” The quarry shrills the words at you, ghostly pale to the point of turning green. “Th-They buy troopers now—they opened up a whole new market for the smugglers, there’s a base nearby that’s used for training and…” He stares wide eyed at you and gulps. “C-Conditioning.”

Your brain is already going a trillion lightyears an hour and it doesn’t have the capacity to empathize or understand anything beyond the child’s survival and the relevant details right now. “Were they expecting the baby?”

“W-What?” He squeaks up at you.

“Was the bounty put out on you a trap set by the Empire?” You ask him, lifting your free arm just enough to flash him the tiny child clinging to your side. “He said they’re coming after the baby, so tell me if this was planned from the beginning.”

“Who is ‘he’?” The stormtrooper asks, furrowing his eyebrows and looking around. “What are you talki—”

“Tell me if the bounty on you was a trap to take this baby!” You roar, your blaster shaking as you aim it down at him. Your mind is acutely focused on the tiny claws hanging onto your tunic, the continued safety of the kid and the life or death situation facing him that you were given absolutely no information about. “Now—”

“If it was I didn’t know!” He quickly cries out, pleading with you and clamping his eyes shut in terror under the barrel sight. “I don’t know anything about a b-baby, or a bounty! They just put blasters in our hands and told us to search for a ship and to bring back anyone we find alive, I swear!”

You’re silent for a moment, biting your lip under the mask and caught halfway between discerning and stalling. You could still kill him. You should still kill him, time is ticking down and more troopers could be heading this way any second.

Shit. “Who put the bounty out on you?” You ask sharply. It might not be a completely fair question, but he can’t exactly blame you for not feeling completely fair right now.

“I—I don’t know,” he gasps, clutching his bleeding shoulder. “Could’ve been anyone—my mother, Cyra, o-or my dad, Obediah, or Thia, or Benja, or S—”

“Thia,” you interrupt his rambling, catching the slurred word and repeating it back to him.

“Yes!” Oshua jerks his head up, tears and hope immediately filling his eyes at the sound of her name, “Yes, Thiadura Celi Ryler, that’s my sister!”

Maker, if he’s lying, then he’s fucking brilliant at it. You look towards the cockpit of the ship, biting your lip under the mask. Get to Nevarro, tell Karga and he’ll… something. Din was cut off before he finished. Help? Know what to do? You’re lost, but you have a clear directive and the precious seconds are sliding by. The controls are right up there, two steps to the ladder and less than a minute until you’re rising into the atmosphere.

But then you think back to the terror in Din’s voice. The blistering panic that made him speak faster and with more urgency than you’ve ever heard from him. Get to Nevarro. Tell Karga. Get to Nevarro. Tell Karga.

You look back at the quarry. “How many of you are there?”

“At the base? Around three hundred,” he immediately spills. “Half of us are in the hole right now getting brainwashed, they do it in shifts, but they can be mobilized in a few hours. There were a lot of bodies outside when we were ordered to split off, maybe a third of our squadron, but the rest were still shooting at whatever was—”

“So around a hundred left,” You finish breathlessly, almost wanting him to speak faster and cut to the chase so you can calculate quicker. “How many were dispatched on the search?”

“Uh, there were eight groups of five sent in each major direction,” he informs you, still trembling on the ground. “Told us not to come back until we covered the entire sector.”

Of which, four you’ve already taken care of. In other circumstances, you’d be nauseated at the thought, but right now, it’s just another number to subtract, just more panicked math in Din’s frightening absence. That leaves at least sixty troopers left wherever the base is, minimum, and likely a couple more hours before they’ve combed the sector. If this wasn’t a preconceived trap purposefully set for the kid, then that means reinforcements haven’t arrived yet but likely will soon. And if this is a base meant for training and conditioning, then that also means there’s a chance not all of them will be loyal yet.

You make the decision immediately.

“Okay,” you announce, clicking the blaster’s safety switch and holstering it, sounding lightyears more certain than you feel. “Then you’re going to help me carry out a rescue mission, and I’ll take you back to your sister.”

“You…” He looks uncertain, blinking at your blaster and slowly lowering his hands. “You want to rescue the men?”

Ideally? Sure. Realistically? You don’t say anything in response. Instead, you kick his regulation firearm at your feet further away from the quarry just in case your judgment is flawed, and then turn around and grab one of the bodies behind you.

Your adrenaline is still blaring so fast that you only just barely note the severity of what you’ve just done and what you’re continuing to do. The corpses aren’t real to you right now, they’re inanimate things that you need out of your ship before you can close the doors to it. They are, however, heavy as fuck, but the only other adult here has a wound in his arm from the gun on your hip. Regardless, you have experience with lifting dead weight without a big, strong, capable man to do it for you.

“Help me out here, kid,” you mutter over your shoulder, and in response, you feel his claws dig in and climb up just a little bit until he can peek out in front of you. Thankfully, the burden is suddenly lifted and you can quickly slide the dead troopers down the ramp with ease. It takes hardly any time at all—you just yank and haul and release and all four of them tumble the rest of the way all by themselves.

When you stand back up, Oshua hasn’t moved and he’s looking at you with a pale, queasy expression. Glancing down, you see that your white robe is now stained with streaks and patches of rusty blood. Instead of swallowing back bile at the sight and bolting to the shower to scrub off every last remaining trace, you breeze past it, noting nothing more than a change of color. Dirtying your white, pristine clothing with the consequences of protecting this baby—you’d rather have blood-soaked fabric with an unharmed kid clinging to you than any other combination of those things.

“Can you make it up to the cockpit?” You ask the quarry, kicking his rifle off the ship before closing the ramp and then gesturing up the ladder. Your voice is calm and steady but your hands are beginning to shake again. “I need as much information as possible about the base.” You know that’s where Din is, judging from the wall of blaster screeches that drowned him out through the comm. Logically, you know you could be headed right into a trap, and every instinct inside you wants to find safety, but… you just cannot imagine flying the ship away from this planet without Din onboard. It isn’t fucking happening, you’ve made your choice.

Without waiting for a response, you climb the ladder and plop down in the pilot’s seat of the Crest. While Oshua finds some way to clamber up the steps behind you in bulky stormtrooper armor with one good arm, you hold the kid closer on your lap and begin flight checking. Din will be fucking furious, but the scolding you’ll be sure to get is the least of your worries right now. Following his instructions and going back to Nevarro is just making shit infinitely more dangerous for him, turning what could be a potential rescue mission into an undeniable suicide mission. Even if Karga somehow decides to send a few guild members along to infiltrate the base, it’ll be a war you want to avoid.

Besides. What did you always tell him about running away from him, even when he instructs you to?

It’s just… not really your thing.

---

They’re everywhere.

They crawl like flies out of the base, and for every single body that falls, three more spill from the open doors. Rapid fire plasma beams launch from the end of Din’s blaster, melting white armor with every twitch of his gloved finger. Their aim is terrible, as is to be expected, but the sheer number of them more than makes up for it, as is by design.

Din’s heart pounds with exertion, his breath comes in ragged huffs through the modulator as his helmet identifies and isolates which body is closest to him, which body he needs to bring down next. His blaster is so hot it nearly burns his hand, even through the thick gloves he wears. When he runs out of ammo, he holsters the pistol and swings his rifle from around his shoulder, spinning to catch a handful of troopers behind him in the obliterating blast.

He’s not thinking much. He can’t think, even though your safety and that of his son is currently dangling by a thread. If he focuses on that, he’ll be dead before he can even picture your faces. He just reacts, he maims and kills without a single thought in his mind. Blood splatters, screams and sirens blare as he becomes surrounded by more and more troopers. Din can hear the sound of plasma colliding and ricocheting off his armor; every single one of them is a potential injury he could currently have but might not even be able to feel right now.

His helmet starts beeping rapidly and he turns just enough to see, highlighted in bright red on the screen, two enormous artillery turrets slowly rising up out of the roof of the imperial base. He feels a fierce flash of anger burn in his chest, it’s like a lightning strike to his veins.

Din needs to go.

And yet… if he was another man. If he wasn’t a father, or a husband, if he had no family and no attachments like the creed declared he should, he would go. With just a twitch of his fingers, he could be launching into the sky and retreating as far away from this battlefield as he could reasonably get. He’s never been the type to run from a threat, but this isn’t just a threat. Dozens of troopers are gaining on him, they’re trampling their own dead to get within range. Plasma pings off his shoulder, another one hits his back as they flank from behind. He can feel the heat through the sizzling beskar, he can see them surrounding him on all sides, and the propulsion trigger for his jetpack is right there under his wrist.

Din holds his ground and continues firing, he plants his feet firmly to the dirt with only one thought in his mind.

Run, sweet girl. Run.

---

You type in commands to scan for Din’s signal, quickly locating it through the Crest’s computer onboard. Not far from here, three minutes or less. The ship rumbles to life beneath you, slowly lifting off the rocky ground and rotating in place as it hovers. It’s not on autopilot but you feel like you are, you can barely feel your hands as they move the yoke forward and the Crest takes off in the direction of Din’s blinking frequency.

“Tell me about defenses,” you instruct Oshua, restlessly bouncing your leg while the baby coos.

“Two plasma turrets on top of the base,” the quarry quickly answers. “There’s usually guards stationed around the perimeter, but everyone who’s capable will be outside right now.”

Your mouth twists downwards under the mask. Blasters don’t scare you much from this high up, but Din’s armor doesn’t cover every inch of his body, he’s not completely invincible. Doubt churns in your stomach, but you have to stay focused on one task at a time so you don’t get overwhelmed. The turrets, then. “Are they automatic?”

“Manual,” he corrects with a shake of his head.

“Radar?”

“Old. Only engages above fifty meters.”

You eye your altitude and dip the Crest considerably, beginning to weave through the rocky canyons and dodging crumbling cliffs while you travel. “What about ships?”

“None,” Oshua says, “except for a passenger shuttle used for transport. TIEs are flown in the Vesta sector, this base is remote and used for basic training only.”

“Anything else?” You ask, stomach twisting with the knowledge that barely four questions is all you’ve got. You’re planning to drop into an imperial base to save the man you love and you can’t think of a single other question?

The quarry shrugs, and your heart slams, does somersaults in your chest at the mere notion that you could fucking die here. Today, in two minutes or less, you could die here. The child in your lap looking over the ship’s front panel with a quiet determination in his eyes could die here. Din could already be dead—that signal broadcasts his location to this computer regardless of whether he’s still breathing or not. He could already be gone and you’d be flying the baby right into a trap without knowing any differently.

Whelp, you think while taking a deep breath, some strangely calm existential acceptance beginning to flood your soul. If he isn’t dead, he will be soon if you don’t make it to him on time.

You immediately lift your wrist and speak into the communicator. “Mando?” You have no idea if he can hear you, but you need to try anyway. Your voice is still firm, there’s a strength to it you don’t feel in your chest, but it certainly sounds convincing. ��I’m coming to get you. Less than a minute to your location, do everything you can to get outside. If you can’t, I’ll just… uh. Try to figure something else out.”

That’s it. That’s it, improvise until you don’t have to. Even if you’re lacking confidence, you can at least scrounge up some conviction. Your arms gain feeling again while you veer the Crest through the stony terrain, the familiar reverberations under your feet begin to fill your body with a powerful sense of purpose. Your breaths begin to come steady, every falling rock you see through the transparisteel feels like it drops in slow motion, allowing you to evade them easily. It would normally be stupidly dangerous to fly this low with so many unexpected obstacles and hazards narrowly missing the ship, but considering what you’re flying into, a few boulders seems comical.

“Where’s your helmet?” Oshua asks out of nowhere, and for a second, you don’t think you heard him correctly.

But then it strikes you all at once what he’s attempting to imply, and the sheer lunacy of the thought is enough to make you laugh while you clutch the controls. “I’m not a Mandalorian.”

“You wear the armor of one,” he points out… rather fairly, you have to admit. “You cover your face like one. You have a blaster that fires Philithiorium, a rare and expensive gas native to Mandalore’s stratosphere, and you’re a bounty hunter—”

“I’m not a Mandalorian.” Your words are short and cutting, you have a daunting task to focus on and don’t feel like having small talk right now. “I’m not a bounty hunter, either.”

But then again, Karga made you a member of the Guild, didn’t he? He handed you Oshua’s puck and said this one is for you to find, and you are technically part of a Mandalorian clan. All of this seems like it happened without your knowledge. You may be marrying a Mandalorian, you may wear his armor and mother his child and shoot a blaster with his signet branded into it, but war isn’t in your blood. This robe was a costume when you first made it, this armor was a relic that was restored as a hobby. In a sense, it still feels that way. The mask covering your face lended itself to a temporary surge of bravery earlier, but beyond that, the only thing that’s keeping you moving forward now is your family. The man you love that may or may not be alive right now, the baby holding tight to your leg while the ship sways and weaves through the stony landscape.

Your eyes quickly flick down to the child in your lap, both of his three fingered hands clutching onto the stained fabric of your knee without moving a single inch. He’d know, you tell yourself. If his father is gone, he’d already know somehow. Din is still alive, and he’s counting on you.

---

There’s too many for Din to handle.

They swarmed him, overpowered his endless artillery with massive numbers and there’s nothing he can do anymore. The backs of his knees are kicked from behind and he slams down to the ground with a clatter, his sizzling hot blasters are ripped from him, and Din folds his hands calmly behind his back even as one of the stormtroopers barks out, “Binders,” to another one, who disappears quickly in response. In the meantime, a few of them apparently decide to just attempt holding his arms in place, and their measly combined grip is almost enough to make him roll his eyes under the helmet. These imperial soldiers are even more pitiful than they usually are, but his silent resolve to stall to ensure your escape is enough to keep him stationary and compliant for the time being.

Eventually, a few voices call out from beyond the crowd and there’s some movement from the back. Dozens of troopers with their blasters all pointed at him begin to shuffle to make way, careful to keep their barrels aimed at him while a path slowly forms. The crowd of white parts and a stormtrooper with a singular red pauldron on his right shoulder saunters confidently towards Din as he kneels on the ground.

An officer, he assumes. Conveniently missing from the firefight, the scanner inside his helmet would’ve caught the change in color and Din would’ve made sure to kill him first.

“Well now, what do we have here?” Comes his thin metallic voice through the tinny filter. The officer studies him curiously for a few moments, before slowly looking down by his feet, reaching out one cheap, plastic covered foot to gently nudge the body of a dead trooper on the ground with a sigh. “What a shame.”

Coward, he thinks, his lip curling with disgust under the helmet.

“This is an imperial training base,” he turns his attention back to Din to inform him when he doesn’t immediately respond, rather stupidly he might add. “How were you able to find us?”

Silence. The grip on hands held behind his back is even looser now. He just tilts his chin up slightly in defiance, the scanner inside his helmet locating each weapon strapped to the man’s body and highlighting it red. Small text boxes blink into existence under each one with a manufacturer and classification—a BlasTech E-11 rifle, a Merr-Sonn thermal detonator, a Kolvo vibroblade—and Din is severely unimpressed with the quality. The detonator is the only weapon that even catches his eye, and that’s only because the chamber inside that houses the explosive baradium has a release mechanism that’s completely dead. Useless, then. Good to know.

After a long moment of quiet tension where Din refuses to speak and the officer continues to confidently scrutinize him, in some strange sort of silent battle of egos that only one seems to have a genuine interest in, another stormtrooper makes his way to the front, shoving past his fellow soldiers to address the superior in charge.

“Commander, we’ve sent out an alert for an intruder,” he tells him, slightly out of breath from running through the crowd in the lightweight armor. Din wants to roll his eyes, but what he says next makes him snap to immediate attention. “The fleet informed us that Moff Gideon is currently on route.”

Gideon. The last time someone spoke that name, it was a quarry on Coruscant and you just barely managed to stop Din from suffocating the bastard for even saying it aloud before freezing him in carbonite. It would’ve meant half the return on a hunt that lasted nearly a month but he saw red and his hand was crushing his windpipe before he realized what happened. But he’s dead, Din thinks with a clenched jaw and fists tightening behind his back, he watched that TIE fighter explode and slam into the ground, crushing the man inside it. The wreck was unsurvivable, he can’t be alive.

“For what? This Mandalorian?” The trooper in charge scoffs in response, and Din remains completely mute.

“Yes, sir,” the other one confirms. “Orders were to capture him, alive.”

“Hm.” The officer turns his attention back to him, less analyzing and more musing while he tilts his head. “I see,” he eventually says, and he sounds like he’s grinning, before strolling slightly closer as Din stays completely still on his knees. “He must want the beskar. I’m sure it’s worth more than this entire battalion combined.”

All of a sudden, a gloved hand carelessly catches the rim of his helmet and tugs, and Din’s movement is explosive. He launches off the ground, arms easily slipping from the pathetic grip they were being held in and his fist colliding with the side of the officer’s flimsy white helmet, the plastic making a deafening crack against his face.

Multiple hands immediately rush forward to grab him and yank him back down again while the commanding trooper stumbles backwards in shock, and Din amicably drops to his knees and folds his hands behind his back once more like nothing happened at all.

“Binders!” A trooper behind him roars loudly once more, and a few men surrounding him begin trotting away this time.

The officer in red stands a few feet away from him now, grabbing his helmet and twisting it back to its proper position on his head where it was skewed. There’s a shattered hole near his jaw where the material splintered and busted like the cheap piece of banthashit it is, and while he might normally feel pleased with himself for being able to see his skin peeking through, it just fills him with more righteous fury. It’s such a punchable jaw.

After a few awkward moments of silence, the other one clears his throat and continues. “He… has inquired about the location and status of a child that should be accompanying him.”

Din inhales deeply through his nose and grinds his teeth. He wants to snap their necks one by one for even just mentioning his son, but there are just too many, more than even his whistling birds can neutralize. Still, he gave you as much of a head start as physically possible. You should be rising into the atmosphere right now, making the jump into hyperspace towards safety. Karga will know what to do—he’ll protect his family, separate you and the boy so the threat is evenly dispersed instead of collected all in one place, and arm dozens of trained hunters to keep watch over you both individually. It’s the best Din can do, and it’s the only thing keeping his knees planted on the ground and his body completely motionless while they continue speaking.

“We are combing the sector for a ship with as many men as we can afford to lose,” the trooper in red says, but his voice filter is shattered and now sounds like a puny little droid with a broken voice box, “but our numbers are unimpressive. Assistance may be required.”

It’s too late, Din thinks, mouth twitching under the beskar with a satisfied smirk. They’re wasting their time, looking for a ghost. You’re both long gone by now. They’ve got no idea you even exist—

“He also spoke of a girl.”

And then he feels his heart stop in his chest. Every single cell in his body turns to fire, it’s a fucking miracle he doesn’t move a muscle in response. His sweet girl, the one so far removed from the nightmare of the Empire that she made best friends with the orphans of it. How the fuck did he know? He shouldn’t even be breathing, let alone gathering information about you, how did he know?

But then Din thinks back, remembering your makeshift bed on the floor, your panicked eyes and heaving chest as the quarry taunted him with a sick little smile. Who’s this, Mando? She’s just darling, isn’t she? Does Gideon know your crew has a lovely new addition?

“A girl?”

The trooper nods. “Moff Gideon insisted that if the Mandalorian did not have a child with him, then a girl would likely be protecting him instead.”

He’s going to kill them, Din decides. Every single one of these imperial pigs, every single soldier standing right now is a dead fucking man. The blood pumping through his body suddenly turns to acid, deadly black hate poisoning his soul. His heartbeat morphs into a war drum, the armor strapped to his limbs is the barrel of a gun. He’s going to fucking kill them and leave an imperial base full of bodies to greet his old nemesis upon his return, and he’s going to enjoy every single second of it.

Except, then—

“Mando?” The sweetest voice in existence suddenly crackles through the earpiece under his helmet. “I’m coming to get you. Less than a minute to your location, do everything you can to get outside. If you can’t, I’ll just… uh. Figure something else out.”

And, as Din kneels there in surrender, surrounded by a crowd of enemies he thought he destroyed long ago, all the anger—all the fury and defiance and murder surging through his veins—suddenly morphs to fear.

The emotion is so foreign and old to him, it feels like a face he barely recognizes and a name he can’t remember. He’s panicked before. He’s been in situations where a threat has made him blind with rage, he knows what it’s like to look death straight in the eyes and say that he’s busy and to come back another time. This is different. This is ice cold that freezes over beskar.

He can’t speak out loud to warn you—he can’t move his hands to press the button on the back of his helmet and allow him to talk without detection. There’s plasma turrets on the roof of the base, he can see them right now. The helmet’s scanners say they’re manned and engaged, and though he is outside and this is how you retrieved him before whenever he needed a quick escape, he has fifty fucking imperial blasters trained on him and you know absolutely nothing about this threat. You’re flying right into a war zone and if either you or his son dies, he won’t ever be able to forgive himself.

Behind the helmet, his eyes fly to each and every trooper, wondering which blaster will be the one to do it. Which weapon is going to be the one he can’t block in time when you descend, the one that’ll kill him right in front of you. Which turret will be the one to obliterate the Crest with you and his son inside of it.

“Maker, where are those fucking binders—” he hears someone behind him snarl, but the white noise of pure terror roaring through his ears drowns them out. His chest starts heaving against his will, sheer panic begins to blur his vision. For the first time in his life, his armor feels too heavy, his lungs feel like one of these boulders are sitting on them instead of beskar.

All too soon, his helmet starts making a familiar sound that signals quietly in his ear, alerting him of an incoming ship, and the only thing he can physically do is count down the seconds to prepare himself for what is to come.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two…

Like lightning, Din breaks the grip of multiple troopers and surges up, tackling the officer in red to the ground. There’s a clatter as they both slam into the rocky floor, but in the ensuing scuffle, he easily snatches the thermal detonator from his side holster and holds it up for everyone to see, before pressing the red button on the front and hearing it begin to beep rapidly.

---

You’re right on time.

The Crest rises up through the rocky cliffs surrounding the base and you spot the turrets you were warned about. Weapons controls are already engaged and you’re too low to be detected by radar—you fire once, twice, and blast both of them to smithereens from behind before they can even rotate around to target you.

Alarms start wailing but the guns are destroyed. It’s not comforting, though; blasters won’t touch you up here, but that doesn’t mean they can’t fire at Din on the ground. Your eyes dart across the sea of white, looking for a flash of silver anywhere, and then you spot him instantly in the chaos.

For some reason, the troopers in his vicinity all seem to be bolting away from him. Their rifles are down, clutched in their hands while they nearly fall over each other to run away as fast as possible, and your heart soars when you spot his jetpack firing up. Din launches into the sky while another trooper is revealed underneath him, seeming to juggle something in his hands and then throw it into the crowd of retreating soldiers, but the sight of the man you love rising into the air while a flurry of blaster shots from the far edges of the imperial structure follow him gives you the confidence to immediately turn the guns down towards the horde of troopers.

“Which ones are in charge?” You ask Oshua breathlessly, who leans forward and points out the transparisteel.

“Red pauldrons—” he barely has time to say it before you aim and fire at one of the troopers wearing red that was closest to Din, the plasma beam launching from the Crest so powerful and devastating that it outright obliterates the surface he’s laying on. Pieces of shattered armor fly and a smoking crater of rubble is all that’s left behind, but your mind is whirling and you’re already onto someone else wearing red at the edges of the complex, and then two more near the doors, and then another—

To their credit, you think the sixty or so soldiers in training seem to figure out that you’re not aiming into the enormous collection of them. If you were, the damage would be catastrophic and spraying everywhere, but you’re precise and meticulous with your shots, and the only ones who are loyal enough to the cause to hold still and raise their blasters at the incoming threat tend to be the ones you need to mow down anyways. The rest of them scatter in all directions, scrambling over each other to escape and then disappearing into the distant boulders surrounding the base—but you notice that not a single one of them runs back inside the safety of its open doors.

The hull dips with the weight of Din dropping in, and relief floods your soul even as you continue raining hell down on the superiors in charge. Any flash of color you see is a target, your eyes lose focus of everything, your vision blurs and turns monochrome as you just search for red.

“Lift up!” You hear Din’s voice roar from the hull. You can hear his rifle unloading through the open door. “Now! We have to go now!”

You press the button to shut the hull door with Din inside and punch it, rising so fast that the shove of gravity makes it difficult to keep your head up. Through the sudden surge of downward force, you just barely manage to raise your incredibly heavy arm to push the button that pressurizes the Crest and ignites the launch boosters, preparing the vessel for space travel. Outside the transparisteel, the gray sky begins darkening as the atmosphere eventually disappears. The ship’s engines roar, burning so much fuel at once that you’re actually accelerating through the climb, you’re boosting through the gradual ease of gravity as the planet’s curvature and glow becomes softer and softer below you.

As soon as the blackness of space begins to fill the windows, the slight subsiding of force allows you to plug in the coordinates for Nevarro with less difficulty, but you’re still moving, still rising, still escaping. You can’t find it within yourself to slow down, but then something catches your attention.

Claws suddenly dig sharp into your thigh, sharp enough to sting and cause you to wince, and you look down to see that the kid has gone incredibly tense. Deadly tense. Your heart is still pounding even though you’re away from danger, you’ve got Din in the hull, everyone is safe, and yet—

It flickers into existence all at once. One second it’s just space, just the endless depths of nothingness spread out for light years in front of you, and within the blink of an eye it’s suddenly there.

A star destroyer.

Your body freezes in horrified awe, having never seen a ship so fucking big in your entire life. It looks like a massive satellite, the size of an enormous asteroid instantly appearing in your vision and dwarfing the vastness of space around it. All the stars you used to dream about are suddenly blotted out within a fraction of a second, terror so immense seizes your soul that you stop thinking. You stop calculating, you stop being yourself for a split second that lasts an entire lifetime.

Before you can move a single muscle, the computer beeps quickly and lurches the Crest into hyperspace.

---

The stars streak across the transparisteel like so many times before. Utter silence nearly deafens you with how abrupt it is after so much noise, but the peace it used to bring does nothing to quell your fear. Everything is the same as it always was, same bursts of light as you hurdle faster than it towards Nevarro, same quiet, same rumbling hum of the ship. But now, everything has changed.

You hear the quarry next to you suddenly inhale and exhale loudly, and it shocks you a little bit, reminds you that there’s a person next to you and another is on your lap. Other people exist outside of the vision of death that just flickered out of existence just as quickly as it appeared. They’re breathing, Oshua is shakily unbuckling his seatbelt, life is continuing on in the quiet cockpit but you can’t seem to move like he is. You can’t seem to breathe like he is. It’s only when the baby slowly maneuvers himself around on your thigh and blinks up at you, placing a tiny hand on your stomach that you finally feel air enter your lungs.

After a moment, you reach down and click open your seatbelt with trembling fingers, scooping the kid up in your arms and slowly attempting to stand. Everything feels wobbly and dreamlike, you have to brace yourself on the headrest to prevent yourself from falling back into the chair again.

“That was…” Ryler mutters, his voice sounding foggy and distant, “uh. A close one.”

You look over at him, recognizing that he’s speaking but not quite able to understand the words right now. Red catches in your vision, and you blink down at the way he’s clutching his left shoulder, the smear of blood darkening the white armor he’s wearing. You blink a few more times at the sight of it, and though it feels like you normally would be sickened at the wound, somehow shocked out of your state of shock, it does nothing to you. When you look back up at his face, his expression seems strangely grateful, even when it’s screwed up in what you know must be excruciating pain. You did that, a quiet voice whispers in your mind, even though the rest of it seems incredibly blank.

Instead of responding, you stumble a few steps over to the ladder, spinning around and hesitating for a moment. You’re severely lacking in coherent thought, but one thing seems to break through. You’re not sure if you have enough coordination to do this safely right now. However, when there’s movement in your peripheral and you look to see Oshua gently offering his right arm to you, seeming to understand you’d like to use both hands for this, you snap back to your senses just the slightest bit and hug the baby tighter to your chest. Carefully, you begin making the slow climb down the ladder with the kid, still trembling with the aftershocks of adrenaline. Your limbs feel extra heavy, but eventually the floor meets your feet.

Din is standing there when you slowly turn around, armor gleaming and still as a statue, but he has his back to you. His helmet is tilted down at the ground, and when you follow his gaze, you’re met with the sight of the bloodstains of dragged bodies that leave dark red streaks all the way up the ramp.

You feel something this time. It’s… cold. A burning, searing cold that creeps into your skin. Like your heart decides to pump nitrogen through your chest instead of warm blood. You did that.

There’s a sudden urge inside of you to speak, to address him and inform him of your presence, tell him everything is okay, everything worked out, but you can’t find it in yourself to say a single word. You can’t find a single word to say. The kid twists as best he can in your clutch, his ears drag against your chest to greet his father, but for some reason, there’s still a strange sense of fear in your bones. It’s enough to wake you up slightly, it’s enough to tell you it’s not over yet. There’s a terror in your heart that hasn’t left since he first called over the comm and begged you to run, a crippling dread that you thought climaxed after seeing that star destroyer appear, but it’s somehow only increased after laying eyes on him like this.

You watch as his helmet turns, slowly meeting the pauldron on his shoulder, and for some reason, you feel yourself harden. Your feet brace against the metal floor like this is another threat you have to face, you let its unyielding metallic strength transfer up through the souls of your boots to your heart in your chest.

But the second you hear cheap white armor clatter as the quarry steps down the ladder behind you, Din bursts into movement. He suddenly spins and storms up to you in one single step while catching your holstered blaster on your hip. It’s out and aimed in the blink of an eye, and it’s a miracle you remember how to speak before he remembers how to kill.

“Mando—” you warn, just in time for the quarry to land on the floor of the hull and turn around to reveal his face.

Din holds there for a second, his helmet locked on Oshua’s features. His gloved fingers twitch wildly on the trigger of your gun held over your shoulder, like he has to remind himself multiple times not to. You hear Oshua’s armor clack while he likely raises one good arm in surrender, but then Din’s helmet moves a fraction of a millimeter to your face and holds there. He just stares down at you, and the air feels heavy, your body feels heavy, the feather light child in your arms feels heavy.

Slowly, he lowers his arm, lets it fall while he continues looking at you from behind the visor. You look back at him, unblinking, unfeeling, and there’s a few seconds that last an utter eternity where nobody moves. Nobody speaks, nothing happens, but then a soft coo comes from your arms before you can finally break eye contact, knowing there are still some things that need to be done.

You eventually turn around and lift your chin to address Oshua.

“You have to go into carbonite,” you inform him quietly. Your voice sounds strange, like it’s coming from outside of yourself. “We’re taking you to Nevarro, and then you’ll be transported to your home planet. When they unfreeze you, your sister will be there to collect you.”

He looks uncertain, one hand still raised while the other hangs uselessly at his side, and you don’t blame him.

But you also don’t feel like saying anymore, not unless he decides he doesn’t want to go in willingly. Normally you might’ve tried to empathize, offer him further reassurance beyond just a couple short sentences, but you don’t. Speaking feels difficult, thinking feels difficult. You’re still in survival mode, not active but reactive. There’s also no reason for you to lie to him about this, and you can see him glance at Din standing silently behind you, who hasn’t moved a muscle.

He eventually nods and you walk him over to the chamber without another word, watch him turn to face you as he backs into the opening while you reach up towards the control panel.

But then there’s a moment. One where you hesitate slightly, one where your vision flashes back to the sight of those bloodstains on the floor, and that burning cold fills you again, so cold it feels completely numb.

“I’m… sorry,” you whisper quietly to him, though your voice sounds so empty. There’s so much emotion that should be there but isn’t, so much regret and pain that should break through but can’t. “I’m sorry I… killed your friends.”

Later, you’ll think about how you felt absolutely nothing saying it. Your heart doesn’t constrict with remorse at the mere words leaving your mouth, guilt doesn’t flood into your soul, pain doesn’t wrack through your bones. You could’ve been saying anything at all and nobody would be able to tell the difference.

He blinks at you, flicking his eyes between yours for a second or two, but then you press the proper button and watch the gas quickly freeze him where he stands. He’ll be conscious the entire time, but Karga will send him to the correct location and you have no doubt that this elemental purgatory is leagues better than where he just escaped from. It’s a benefit being the last quarry to be retrieved—he’ll only have to spend a few days trapped in here before being reunited with his family.

When that’s done and Oshua is a complete statue in front of you, bulky white armor now colored a dull metallic gray and frozen in time, you will yourself to finally turn around to face the enormous mountain of a presence behind you. The baby gently reaches out for him, but Din doesn’t move from where he’s stood. Your blaster is still clutched tightly in his hand, and he isn’t looking at you.

Slowly, you walk over and stop directly in front of him in the middle of the hull, blinking at him while the helmet subtly moves to lock onto your face. The kid begins wiggling in your arms, making soft impatient noises while you both stand in complete silence across from each other.

After a few moments, you hear him flick your blaster’s safety on by his side and then toss it carelessly to the ground. It skids along the floor, light enough to be mostly quiet. Gloves reach out as he carefully takes the kid from you and settles him in the crook of one arm, and then he looks you up and down, still not saying anything.

Your eyes follow his movement, watching his arm slowly reaching out to you, and you think he’s going to cup your jaw, or brush your hair back. Give you some sort of physical reassurance since he hasn’t spoken a single word of it.

Instead, Din suddenly grabs the armor clinging to your chest and starts ripping it off you with one hand. It clangs to the floor so loudly in the silence of hyperspace, the kid’s ears twitch and flutter with each shattering bang. You hold still while he does it, you barely respond except the unavoidable movement your body experiences as the pauldron is yanked from your shoulder and thrown against the ground. The ammo belt is tugged over your head and hurled away, the thigh braces are snatched from your legs and they clang to the floor, and the pearly, opalescent fabric revealed underneath is stained in dead man’s blood, rusty and in such great quantities that it shows up as brown instead of red.

“Are you hurt?”

He sounds… dead. So monotonic that you can’t possibly gauge his emotional state. He doesn’t move. His fists don’t clench, he says every single word like it means the same exact thing as the last. If nothing at all was a person who could speak, they’d use his tone of voice.

“No,” you eventually whisper.

The helmet nods once, and then he spins around and walks away without anything else. Without saying anything, without touching you, or double checking you for injuries in case you were lying. You stand utterly still while Din climbs the ladder with the kid cradled in one arm, and you don’t even flinch when the door to the cockpit slides shut behind him. You have no idea how long you stand there in the splitting silence afterwards, numb and unmoving.

You feel… nothing. Absolutely nothing.

The hard defenses you strapped to yourself today to reconcile the things you had to do are still high and strong, guarding your soul even if he stripped away your physical armor. Self preservation is still animating your body, and your facial expression barely changes. Your first thought, as soon as you remember that you can have one, is that there are things that still need to be done. Tasks to complete.

Alone, you shower the lingering traces of blood off your body, the normally clear and refreshing water running a sickly, toxic brown. Alone, your stomach rolls and suddenly decides to empty itself of the very little that was in it as the scalding drops rain down over you—mostly liquid and bile that easily rinses down the drain. The water is too warm, it beats down on you like blazing hot sand pelting your skin in the desert. You feel like you did those first few months with Din, where the silence was suffocating, where you’d only interact with the baby if he was on a hunt or if you could tell he didn’t know how to calm him when he was fussy. If you were in hyperspace, you usually spent time by yourself in the hull while he lived in the cockpit, and if he decided he needed to be in the hull for whatever reason, then you’d trade places with him. It was… isolating. Lonely by yourself. The quiet used to haunt you before it became your cherished friend, but now it’s a betrayer, a ghost that whispers memories and nightmares in your ears.

When you finally finish rinsing the blood from your skin and get dressed, you see the sheets that used to make up your bed now have fried holes in them from your charred plasma marks, the inside of the hull is covered in them and the trails of dried blood where you dragged the bodies down the ramp. Your armor is still strewn about the hull, the kid’s hovering shield lays dead in the corner. Everything you meticulously cleaned and organized and collected and created, now the scene of a bloodbath. One committed by your hand, your blaster still laying uselessly on the floor forever linked to this atrocity.

You spare a glance towards the ladder, but you don’t want to come face to face with Din yet. You already knew he’d be furious, but… you had hoped that he’d at least…

What? At least what? Comfort you? Coddle you after you deliberately ignored his instructions? What exactly, in the past year or so of learning Din’s inner workings and intricacies, would ever give you the impression that he’d come give you a big hug after you purposefully defied him? You flew the kid directly into an imperial base after being told to protect him, you ignored every order he gave to you in the moments he thought would be his last, and though you did it to save his life, you have a feeling that Din has never valued his life even a fraction of what you do.

The misery stabs at your soul, but your mind is finally beginning to process things logically. He’s alive, the kid is alive, the quarry is secure, and you’re all onboard the safety of this ship hurtling through hyperspace where nobody, not even the Empire, can touch you. You weighed the consequences before making your decision, you did what you had to do. If he wants to be mad, then he can fucking well be mad and you’ll find some way to comfort yourself. At least he’s here being mad, at least he’s alive and safe and breathing and mad, and your rare act of disobedience is to thank for that.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize it’s probably easier than it should be to reconcile the punishment. Right now, you welcome the exclusion, the negativity and sorrow beating itself into your soul. Four innocent people died today on this ship, gunned down under your blaster while they panicked and ran for cover. You keep hearing their screams.

So you start to clean up the hull, needing another task to focus your thoughts on. You work to erase every inch of the evidence of your deeds, make it disappear like the pool of blood Din once cleaned up while you were sleeping and never acknowledged again. You only allow the bloodstains to fuck with your head for a single moment, and then you swallow back the nausea until you’re a blank slate again and sink to your knees with a rag in your hand. After that, your vision stops focusing and it just becomes red contrasting against gunmetal gray, and you work tirelessly to get rid of all remaining traces of it.

Then you start on the blaster marks, you need them gone. After a few informed attempts at mixing cleaning chemicals, you find one concoction that allows you to wipe them away like they’re nothing more than dirt that got tracked in. The Crest’s oxygen recycling system works overdrive to constantly purify the air so you don’t get high or pass out, but your nose still stings. It’s fine, it’s sterile, it burns a bit but it smells sharp and metallic and keeps you hyper focused on the task at hand.

After that’s done, you pick up the charred blankets and ball them up to throw into the trash vent. You don’t feel anything as you do it. You don’t think about how long it took you to collect these over months and months of being stuck on this ship, how comfortable they were when everything else was industrial and rigid, how many nights you spent with Din curled up in their softness while he breathed easy and warm. Sheets are just luxuries, they can afford to be lost.

Next, you gather your armor and wipe it down with the rag, put it away along with your blaster. The stained robe goes in the trash, along with the sheets and the blood soaked cloth you used to clean everything. They’re all ruined, you’ll never be able to make them right again.

The hull is sparkling clean when you decide to take another shower. Nothing on you is dirty except your hands, but you feel filthy. Wrong, cold, numb, cold, stained, cold.

After scrubbing your skin raw under the water and changing clothes again, since you don’t really know what to do with yourself anymore, you slowly climb the ladder to the cockpit, keeping perfectly silent. When you reach the upper platform and come face to face with the closed door, you can just barely hear Din’s whispered voice speaking quietly to the baby beyond it.

You raise your hand for a moment, hovering your knuckles over the metal, but then it eventually falls. Instead, you look over and spot the corner, the same corner Din bunched himself into when he snapped at you for even suggesting going on a hunt with him, blew up at you for the mere notion of something happening like what happened today. You back yourself into it in defeat and slowly sink down on the floor, resting your head against the metal and hugging your knees to your chest since you don’t have a tiny baby to take their place.

You can’t sleep. You don’t even try, it’s pointless. The concept feels foreign the longer you sit here by yourself. You don’t hear Din or the baby anymore, but you feel… so fucking awful that it’s fitting that you don’t knock or go looking. You don’t want to hold that sweet child with hands that were covered in blood just a few hours ago. You killed more people than you can count on your fingers today, and of the ones who had done nothing wrong… They screamed like younglings, ducked for cover and were able to fire off one single useless shot in the mayhem before you closed their eyes forever and left their bodies to rot in armor that wasn’t ever their choice to wear.

You didn’t know they were kidnapped and smuggled and forced into that situation. You couldn’t have known, but that isn’t the point. In this case, knowing doesn’t make one bit of difference.

You also can’t face Din yet, not like this. You don’t want him to see you cowering, shattered with guilt over the decisions you made under pressure. How will you ever get him to forgive you for not listening to him when you can’t even forgive yourself for the result of your choices? Din is a hardened man who grew up in blasterfire and bloodshed, just because you love him doesn’t mean he’s going to magically become someone he isn’t. You’re here letting guilt sink sharp claws into your chest over four dead men when he had a good fifty or more corpses scattered on the battlefield around him. You decided to wear that armor, you decided to fly into an imperial base with the kid on your lap, and this is now your penance. You’ll accept it with your back straight and your chin held high.

Figuratively, of course. Physically, you’re smaller than you’ve ever been. Crumpled up into a ball, taking up as little space as possible, curling up as tight as you can like an animal protecting all your vulnerable parts during a brutal attack.

So, since he isn’t here to comfort you himself, you just try to think about what he would tell you. A long time ago, what would he tell you?

Din would tell you… that you killed someone. Multiple people, this time. He’d also tell you that it doesn’t matter what he tells you, what you could have reasonably foreseen or what you should have done. The end result won’t change. You own this now. You’ll carry their deaths with you.

You take a few deep breaths, self-soothing with the undeniable truth that would be murmured matter of factly from his quiet voice. He wouldn’t argue with you. He wouldn’t deny the decisions you made or the consequences of them. It happened, and at the end of the day, you either learn how to handle that, or you don’t.

And, for the four you did shoot, you were responsible for freeing ten times that amount. You’re responsible for reuniting Oshua Ryler with his family, even if your place in yours is momentarily shunned. You’d rather be out here alone than in there with the kid, wondering where his dad is or if he’s even still alive. You rescued Din and now he gets to be here to shut this door on you, hold his son, and whisper calm reassurances to him. If you listen really hard and imagine, you can pretend they’re for you, too.

That’s it. Focus on them both, alive and well together. Focus on the bodies wearing white armor that were moving, the ones that were bolting away from the imperial training base as fast as they could, free from the torture of imprisonment and conditioning.

Finally, you close your eyes and slip into unconsciousness. It’s not a testament to your exhaustion, but rather just how long you’ve been left to sit here by yourself. Hours, maybe. Time is strange in hyperspace.

You dream of a faceless man ringing bells.

---

When you wake up, a small baby has been placed in your arms, and you’re being dragged into a strong, secure beskar hold on the floor.

“Din,” you suddenly lift your head as soon as you’re conscious and nearly bonk it into solid metal, apologies rising in your throat before you even remember where you are. You did what needed to be done to keep your family alive and together and you’d do it a thousand times again if necessary, but that doesn’t mean you won’t apologize anyways. After the deeds you’ve committed today, regret feels as natural on your lips as speaking your own name. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know you’re mad at me but I—”

“Shh,” he whispers, running his gloves through your hair. He’s still wearing his helmet, he hasn’t taken anything off yet. “Don’t say anything. Just… stay here, stay right here with me.”

“I tried to save you,” you croak, tears instantly flooding your eyes. You did save him. You saved him and the baby and yourself but you’re so physically and emotionally exhausted that all you can recall is your intent. “I tried. Wasn’t gonna leave you there by yourself. I tried to be brave, like you—y-you wouldn’t have left without me.”

His arms tighten around you, cradling you in such a strong embrace that you burrow into him, you find a place for your head on the hard metal strapped to him and bury yourself there, wishing that you had shovels of dirt being piled on you to justify the death you still feel staining your soul. Your heart is starting to pound now that you’re remembering, your body is starting to shake with tremors of shock now that you’re aware of your own skin again.

“I was so sc-scared, Din, I didn’t—didn’t know what was happening,” you lament through watery eyes, gasping it out in hopes that it’ll relieve the slightest bit of the gut wrenching guilt just mercilessly crushing you. It caught you before you could protect yourself against it, that armor you built around yourself isn’t on when you first wake up. “I-I didn’t want to kill them, but they were already on the ship and y-you said—you said they were coming after the kid s-so I had to, I had to—”

“Stop,” Din whispers, voice so quiet that you can barely hear him.

“I-I cleaned up the blood,” you turn your face against the cold beskar to let all the positives you listed for yourself before scrape across your throat. They don’t sound comforting anymore, they just sound like excuses. “It’s gone, it’s like it never happened, everything is okay now, I got the quarry, I protected the baby, I saved a bunch of people, you’re both safe—”

“Stop,” he chokes out. The modulator cuts off before you can hear his next breath, but you feel it shudder under your body. “St-Stop it, please.”

Your eyes clench shut so tightly you feel like the streaking stars outside are behind them, tears drop down against his pauldron and you press your face tighter to it like it’s a wound, like the pressure will somehow ease the bleeding.

“Listen to me,” he says very quietly, and you instantly brace yourself. The walls you just let down shoot right back up, your body physically tightens in preparation for another pain, another trauma, another scar you’ll carry, and you stop shaking. You stop breathing, even when his hand comes up to ease your face away from his armor.

“You,” he whispers, holding your chin so you’re staring right at him, and your eyes flick fearfully in between his behind the visor, “are a sweet girl.” Din’s leather thumb brushes along your skin, dragging over the tears below your puffy eyes. “Not,” his voice catches, “a Mandalorian.”

Your heart goes cold. Again, everything turns numb. It doesn’t matter that you already said this yourself out loud earlier today. It doesn’t matter that you acknowledged this fact, verbally insisted it more than once to hammer home the truth and felt some sense of comfort in it. For some reason, hearing the words from his mouth is a fucking knife to your chest.

“I taught you how to fight, how to shoot a blaster,” he murmurs, thumb catching every single tear that continues to fall as he speaks. “I taught you everything I know, everything that’s been taught to me. I taught you how to defend yourself, how to protect yourself when you’re in danger. I gave you your blaster, I gave you my armor, I gave you everything I could give you to keep you safe. And when I thought you were ready, I let you loose on Sanctuary II. Do you know why I did that?” The helmet tips forward the slightest bit at the question, probing deep into the most shattered part of your heart. “After all those months of fighting, and shooting, and training, do you know why I told you to run?”

You blink silently at him, a shaky breath quaking through you, and your expression wants to crumple under the reprimand. You’re so fragile right now, taking hit after hit after hit to the softest parts inside you, and you want to just give up. Let the guilt and remorse take you, let it wash you away. But then, instead…

There’s a flicker of something inside you. Something strong, endlessly strong, and it makes you want to revolt against what he’s saying. It replaces the hurt and fear and desperation for comfort with a strange sense of insurgence, like it did earlier when you were hiding behind a boulder, cowering and trembling and not wanting to die. You’re filled with a quiet urge to defend yourself in the face of this, stand up for yourself and refuse to be beaten down any longer.

“Because you needed to know how to escape danger,” he answers himself when you don’t. “You needed to know how to disappear, how to outsmart any pursuer and find safety, even the trained ones. Especially the trained ones. Anything else was meant to be your last resort. Not your choice. Not something you chose.”

“I couldn’t leave you,” you admit to him quietly, voice shaky and tears still coming even as you try to speak up for yourself. The regret you carry has nothing to do with this, and you decide right now that you won’t feel bad for saving him. Your hurt comes from the meaningless things, the ones without any need whatsoever, not the necessary ones, and you tried. You repeated his words to yourself over and over again, told yourself to run, told yourself to get to Nevarro, and it wasn’t going to happen. “I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t a choice.”

“It was,” he tells you. He says it softly, whispers it like it’s the gentlest thing in the world, but the power and inherent distance of the armor strapped to his body finds its way into the words. “And it was the wrong one.”

“What was I supposed to do?” You ask, just a hint of that rebellion swimming to the surface now, rising out of the waves of self doubt, the one that feels like a spine growing in your back, an energy coursing through your veins that makes your heart start to beat faster. Din’s hand slowly drops from your cheek but you don’t care. “Was I supposed to run away and just let you die?”

“Yes.” It’s quick and blunt and completely emotionless. Delivered like a punch to the vulnerable parts of yourself he taught you how to protect, and the utter silence following this single word is comparable to the physical pain you learned to defend against. It jabs hard against everything good and sweet and tender inside of you, and you’re left speechless even as he continues impassively. “That’s exactly what you were supposed to do.”

It takes a second, but then that unfamiliar feeling suddenly surges up, breaches with the power of an entire ocean. Your voices may be nothing more than whispers in the dark, you may be clinging to each other, holding each other with the softest, gentlest love in your hearts, but the strength of your conviction on this would rip metal apart.

“No.” The word holds the might of your entire being, and it stands alone and defiant in the face of everything you fear, everything that threatens you, him, and this child. Never. You’ll die before that happens. “I love you, and there’s nothing in this galaxy that would ever make me do that. Not fear, not danger, not the Empire, nothing. Not even you.”

Din stares at you. His visor reflects your hardened expression back to you, the force in your soul and the purpose in your eyes, and you don’t even realize the gravity of what you just said because like your love for him, gravity is a constant. It’s a fundamental truth cemented into the rules that govern your actions and it stays true no matter where you are, no matter what terror you face, or how scared you become. You have him, you have this little boy in your arms, and if that’s all you have, then you have everything.

After an eternity of this, of feeling his eyes pierce deep into you from behind the helmet while you refuse to wither under his stare, you watch him slowly turn and look down, landing on the sleepy child tucked between you both. He holds there for a long time, before finally whispering, so quiet that the modulator barely picks it up, “It was the wrong choice.”

You stay quiet. It happened. What’s done is done, you can’t change the past. He can scold and reprimand you about this as much as he wants, but you did the right thing and that decision is the only reason he’s even here to be able to do so. This exhausted child was reunited with his father because of your choices, and this exhausted father was reunited with his child. You won’t argue anymore, but it’s a certitude that lives deep in your heart now, builds a home there right alongside the both of them. Din eventually looks up, his eyes find yours again behind the visor, and his hand rises once more to gently cup your jaw.

“I… thought I’d enjoy seeing you in my armor,” Din finally whispers. It’s not what you expected, but his voice sounds… weak. Broken. “You wore mine once before, and it was…” He brushes his thumb along your cheek, and then his head shakes slightly, pushing the thought away. “It wasn’t real. It didn’t fit. It dwarfed you, it made you look out of place, it made everything soft and innocent about you stand out. I liked it because it wasn’t real.”

“Was it… really that bad?” You whisper back, partially to ease the tension just slightly but quickly breaking eye contact with him when you realize it doesn’t land correctly, it just sounds self conscious and sad. You try to find that conviction again, that strength and assurance that propped you up so sturdily before, but… Not a Mandalorian, he’d said. Of course not. Of course not.

“It wasn’t the armor.” Din gently tugs up on your face so that you look at him again. “It was you covered in blood. It was you purposefully putting yourself in danger. You killed multiple armed soldiers of the Empire, you dragged their bodies off the ship. And then you flew into an imperial base, where you killed the officers, too. You…” He shakes his head slowly at you while speaking, and although you can’t see his face, you don’t need to in order to hear the horror in his voice. “You… collected a quarry… in the middle of a massacre, sweet girl.”

Not a Mandalorian.

“You don’t chase down bounties,” he tells you. “You don’t fly into war zones. You don’t kill imperials, you don’t collect quarries, you don’t sacrifice yourself, or our son, to save me. You said you tried to be brave… like me.” His fingers tighten against your cheek, he dips his helmet to make sure you understand. “I’ll never ask you to be brave. I’ll ask you to survive.”

“I’m… sorry,” you finally whisper, and his arm drops from your cheek to join the other in wrapping around you and holding tight. They hug you and squeeze, encasing you and the baby in a beskar shield and staying there for a long time. Long enough for you to tuck your head back into its proper place under his helmet, long enough to start to feel okay with the silence again. It brutalized you the last time you were surrounded by it, it made you feel alone and desolate and barren inside. You greet it warily now, settling into it for an unknown amount of time until it’s forgiven once more.

After a while, Din quietly breaks it.

“How many?” He murmurs to you. You already know exactly what he’s asking, there's no more clarification necessary on his behalf.

You slowly close your eyes and think back to the smoldering craters, the blood soaked ramp, the fear in Oshua Ryler’s eyes as he begged you not to kill him.

“That didn’t deserve it?” You ask, clenching your eyes tighter at the memory. “Four.”

And maybe, maybe six or eight months ago, you would’ve begged for some guidance on how to reconcile that. Hell, maybe a few hours ago, you could’ve used his arms around you exactly like this, his low voice repeating the same things he’s already told you before, over and over again, if only for some semblance of stability when everything feels turbulent and uncertain. You’ll never be able to change it, though. This belongs to you now.

This time, all Din says is, “I’m sorry, too.”

And that covers everything.

The silence envelops you both again, but… there’s something else. Something that still sits deep in your worries, an image that isn’t a scar of what’s happened but a dread of what’s to come. You need to tell him. You don’t feel like saying it, you don’t want to speak it aloud for fear of bringing it into existence, but you need to tell him.

“Din?” You breathe out, and he makes a soft noise in his throat while cuddling you on the floor. “I saw…,” you whisper, every word sitting tight and reluctant in your throat. “Right when we made the jump, I was looking through the window and I-I saw…”

“A star destroyer.” He says it like… like it’s the worst thing in the world and also completely expected at the same time. He says it like he already knew, yet can’t even imagine. You lean every bit of your weight against him since you can’t hold him in return, squish him as best you can against the small corner and curl up even tighter in his arms for comfort.

He takes a deep breath, a shuddery sound you don’t think you’ve ever heard him make before. It holds untold anxiety, unsaid conflict, uncertain action, an unknown path forward.

“I don’t know what to do,” Din eventually whispers to himself, to you, to the baby in your arms. His voice is barely a breath through the modulator, his fingers digging into your skin with how many emotions he’s repressing. “What do I do?”

He sounds so distressed that you automatically feel your soul find the floor—instantly, you become steady and calm and you locate all that rationality that kept you going today. All your worries still twist deep down, all the guilt and the turmoil wrestles with your soft, easy nature until you can only find bits and pieces of it in the most vulnerable places inside you, but if he’s struggling this terribly, then the least you can do is offer some good, true, unwavering faith in times of uncertainty. You’re in hyperspace, everything worked out, and it’s going to stay that way for right now. If he doesn’t know how to talk about it yet, then you trust him enough to wait for him.

“It’ll be okay,” you tell him with a newfound confidence and purpose, carefully easing the baby into one arm so that the other can find its way to the other side of his helmet and pull him closer. Din tucks his head and allows you to brush your lips against the metal, whisper the words soft and steady to him. “We’ll figure it out together.”

---

@cptnbvcks thank you so much for the incredible art!

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #reader insert #fanfic #star wars #rough day #no-droids

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redr0sewrites · 2 months

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If it wouldn’t be too much to ask can we get an angst Adam x reader?

Where reader is a winner waiting in heaven for Adam to return from extermination only for him to never show and being told by Emily or lute directly he died.

Please and thank you!

NONNIE WHY WOULD U DO THIS TO MEEEEEEEE <\\3

🥀Pt 2 HERE

🥀Cw: major character death, angst

the soft tapping of your foot against the marble floors echoed rhythmically throughout your shared home. shared with your lover of course, who had just flown off to this year's extermination. pacing up and down the kitchen floor, worries were seeping into your mind. despite your lover's reassurance, you still had the nagging feeling that something was amiss. you knew that Adam would be up against some of hells greatest powers, and while he had confidently assured you that the battle would be easy, you were still uncertain.

"dont worry toots, i'll be fiiiiine. i always am, eh? i'm THE Adam, i fucking rock! trust me babe, this fight will be over in minutes~" your lover leaned in to kiss your cheek before donning his helmet and taking off into the sky. as you watched him fly away, you tried to calm the worries soaring in your chest. Adam was right, he would be fine. he always was... right?

you replayed the scene in your mind again and again, trying to force yourself to remain calm. everything would be fine, Adam would come home and tackle you in a hug, then demand that you listen to him rant for the next few hours about each of his kills. suddenly, the rustle of wings and a loud thump outside of your door caught your attention. you ran towards your front door, excitement filling your body as relief curled into your soul. he was fine, of course he was fine! you tore open the door, expecting your lover's bright eyes and boastful expression to greet you. but it wasn't Adam at the door. it was Lute, looking bedraggled and worse for wear.

"Lute? what the fuck happened to your arm?!" you exclaim, motioning for her to come inside. Lute just shakes her head, a miserable look on her usually stern face. "Lute... where is Adam?" you try to remain calm as she just stares at you, pain and pity in her gaze. "he... in the battle, there were some... complications. Adam didn't make it," she whispered, handing you a bloody halo. ice cold shock flooded through you, soon melting into a burning pain coiled in your chest. you felt as though your insides were trying to break free, and you took the halo from her with shaky hands.

"where... where is his body," you whisper, voice low and sharp. Lute turned, refusing to even look at you. "we lost it, we had to retreat quickly and didn't have time to retrieve it..." your heart broke at her remorseful tone, and tears began to stream down your face. "i'm sorry y/n. there was nothing i could do-" you raised a hand to shush her, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. your lovers cold halo was still heavy in your hand, just like the heavy ache in your heart.

"its not your fault, Lute. i just- i need some alone time to process- i don't know." you sigh, defeated and exhausted. "i think we all do," she whispered, looking at you again. then, Lute nodded understandingly, and flew off without another word. for a second you stood there, looking out at the beautiful skies of heaven. people always claimed that there were never bad days in heaven, but you felt as though your very soul was splitting in half. pain and remorse and anger seemed to be filling the empty pit in your heart, the fresh wound of Adam's loss already stung enough. you slam your door shut, throwing the halo across the ground and collapsing into your shared bed- now just yours. there was nothing you could do, and tears overcame you as the sound of sobbing echoed throughout your lonely home.

AUGHHHHHJH this hurts. i might make a pt2 where adam returns as a sinner and reunites with reader (only if yall want ofc) bc i HATe unhappy endings 😭

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widowmaxff · 4 months

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you don't know what you got until it's gone (PART TWO)

pairings: natasha romanoff × fem!reader

warnings: angst with a happy ending, reader and natasha crying, depressed reader (?)

a/n: so i didn't like how this second part turned out, im sorry! and merry christmas yall im little late lol ;)

-> part one!

You woke up the next morning wishing that the night before was just a nightmare. But when you rolled over to the side of the bed that belonged to Natasha, you knew she hadn't come back since that time of the night. Her side was cold, making goosebumps on your skin. You remember waking up in those times and watching Natasha sleep. Her hair was always messy on the pillow while she grabbed his waist so that moment wouldn't end. Now, it seemed like she didn't even want that moment to exist.

When you prepared breakfast for the two of you, you had a big smile on your face. Natasha sat in one of the chairs at the table while working on her computer. You watched her, her eyebrows were furrowed and her glasses were on the tip of her nose, observing everything she did or didn't do. Looking now, the kitchen was colder than usual.

You look at the mug of coffee in your hand as you wait for Natasha to appear at the door, just like you waited for your drunk father to arrive when you were a kid. You hated these situations. Your body was shaking and your head couldn't stop thinking about the worst things that could happen. You didn't want to break up with Natasha, she was the love of your life, you were sure of that. But living in the shadows of her life wasn't the best option for you either.

You remember the first time you noticed that she distanced herself from you. It was night when you and her had agreed to go out to a restaurant after Natasha's work, you wore the best clothes for that day, but she didn't show up. At dawn you heard the door open and she finally arrived, but you didn't question her at that moment. Only in the morning you did manage to confront her, she mumbled an apology before walking out the door. You had no reaction at that moment.

The sound of the key in the front door made you break out of the trance and thoughts of your head. Natasha knew you would be awake at that time. She knew that when something extremely bad happened to you, you would wake up earlier than usual because you felt so anxious that your sleep would go away. So, your feet bounced up and down quickly as you waited for your girlfriend to appear in your field of vision.

A part of you wished she didn't actually show up. Maybe you didn't have the energy to fight or confront her that morning. Maybe you just wanted your old girlfriend back, the one who didn't seem to want to let go of you every morning you woke up together. And even though it seemed selfish of you, you just wanted to be loved back. Maybe I'm just unlovable - you thought.

You hear Natasha mumble a few words as she puts on her dirty shoes in the hallway. Your breathing changes as the footsteps start to get closer to you. You grip the mug even tighter while your arms were sore from the force you were exerting on the table. "I bought that dessert you like at the bakery across the street." It's the first thing she says when she sees you in the kitchen.

You let out a low laugh. "Thanks." She places the bag next to you, before swallowing hard and sitting in the chair across from you. Natasha was nervous, very nervous. You noticed that. Her eyes were everywhere but you, she was snapping her fingers while her breathing was rapid. Your girlfriend sits down on the chair in front of you before looking down and running her palms over her thighs covered by her black jeans, wiping the sweat off them.

"So..." she begins. You made a deal with yourself that you would let her talk before you. You talked too much last night, so this morning, she would start that conversation however she wanted. "I talked to Fury and I thought- I decided to take a break from the Avengers and all my work."

"What?!" You didn't expect this one. "Natasha, I didn't- when I asked for some attention for myself or at least for you to be around a little longer, I didn't say I wanted you to quit the Avengers entirely." You remained calm even though your girlfriend's decision was a bit surprising. Natasha loved her work, the people in there and a lot more. In the back of your mind, you felt a little guilty about it. Your first intentions wasn't make her resign, of course not. You loved her and you would never want to take her away from her happiness.

She finally looks at you, her eyes were as red as her hair. She had cried. "But I want to. This night without being by your side and without knowing if we still have a future left me terrified." Natasha sinks further into the chair, maybe trying to hide herself. "I know my actions on the last months won't help my words right now but I regret everything I did and I didn't do for us."

"I spent this night with my head echoing the unspoken words and hugs that were lost in our relationship. Through the tears I desperately yearn for a second chance because I don't see myself without you in my future, Y/n." Natasha lets a few tears escape as you wait for her to finish speaking. She in this state left you heartbroken, you hated seeing her cry and seem desperate for some air.

"I- I want to have a family with you. I want to... marry you." She holds your hands on the table, stroking with her fingers. Natasha want to marry you, to have a family with you. Your eyes wide with that. You have always wished these things with her, the love of your life. "I don't know if you're going to forgive me for all those days I wasn't there, I just- please, I'm so sorry."

You had never seen Natasha showing her emotions as much as she does now. You had seen her cry many times, but this time it was different. She wasn't crying after waking up from a nightmare or after a mission that took a lot out of her, no. She was crying because she wanted a second chance with you, the love of her life. Natasha wouldn't be able to forgive herself if she lost you.

"Natasha...on the quiet nights without you, I missed the warmth of love, wanting to simply be loved back. I longed to have you in my arms." You squeeze her hand as she listened to every word you spoke. "I spent so many nights thinking about what I did wrong or if I really was just unlovable. And knowing that you regret not being by my side is enough for me. But I need you to promise me that this will never happen again."

She gets up from her chair quickly and walks over to you. Your girlfriend bends down towards you and looks deep into your eyes, which were also red from the sadness of the previous tears. "I promise. Of course I promise." You smile at her before placing your hands on her face. "But none of this was your fault, okay? You are more than enough and certainly the lovable person in the world, babe. I was wrong here, you didn't do anything wrong, do you hear me?" You nod, feeling your eyes fill with tears at finally having your girlfriend back. Your lick your lips before they met in a delicate and passionate kiss.

Time seemed to slow down as the promise of love intertwined in that moment. It was more than a simple touch, where every second was charged with passion and promise. The softness of her lips against yours was like the melody of a love song. Every movement of the lips was filled with silent promises, and the sweetness of this romantic gesture echoed in the soft sighs that escaped.

You break the kiss with a big smile on your face before placing your forehead with hers. You open your eyes seeing that Natasha's were still closed, keeping that moment in her mind. She looked like an angel. "I missed this so much." She opens her eyes, staring into yours. "I love you so much, my love." Natasha whispers, but because of your proximity, you perfectly hear the sweetness of her voice. Her lips were red from the intense emotional kiss and her cheeks were flushed, Natasha looked beautiful. She is beautiful.

"I love you too, darling."

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rzyraffek · 11 months

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You did a request on fainting in front of Brahms, so how would the Sinclair Brothers react to reader fainting? Thank you! Y’all have a good one! :3

Yay! My writing spirit came back! So now imma spam you all with fanfics!! I also wrote a bit more that JUST Sinclair bros

They/them, sfw, Request Open

Slashers with s/o that faints

Bo sinclair

Will immediately pick them up, check for any damage.

Will be stressed af, and get so protective i swear

Will overthink it, he kinda has anger issues so he might think he did something that casued it??? Idk

When s/o wakes up he gonna be so realived. They really gave him a scare

Will ask if anyone hurt them? Or is it like normal for them

Overall 7/10 probably died 5times while waiting for you to wake up

Vincent Sinclair

Tralala vibing with my love lala HU- WHY ARE THRT ON FLOOR??? UHH BO? BO! S/O IS IN FLOOR

Will knee and check breathing and heart beat. Of thank god at least they are alive

With bo's help carried them to bed room and he didnt leave their side! Holding their hand whole time

When they wake up he gonna shower them with kisses and hugs!!! Yay so you are alive!!! Yay!!

Will lay in bed with them, moving his legs in air while s/o turns into Wiki page and tells him all sympptoms, what to do ect

Overall 8/10 live laugh love Vincent

Lester Sinclair

S/o got to tell this man about their 'fainting problem' before it happends

Bcs this dude might cry, or have mental break down

Especially if it happend when yall where in Forest, AWAY FROM ANYONE THAT COULD HELP OR COMFORT

S/o probavly gonna wake up in middle of car ride home and this guy will be so relived

Guy will acually take notes of stuff he needs to know about their fainting problem, so in case he panics next time he has everything written down

Overall 9/10 boy is doing his best

Jason Voorhees

P.A.N.I.C

Immediately picks them up, so so worried, will check their heartbeat by putting his ear on their chest

Lays them down on the most comfy bed he could find in this god forsaken camp

Sits down next to it (probably in chair or if there's non he will just sit on ground)

When they wake up he will be so so happy but also so so puzzled? Did you ate something bad? Were you too hot? Too tired? Too worried? What happened! Tell him

You gotta to tell him step by step how to react, how to notice that s/o will faint and what to do afterwards

Man will be on full alert after every time they pass out. Like this guy will lay them gently down, put water bottle right next to them so it's close and litteraly stab anyone in 100meter radius (boi gets protective)

Overall 8/10 good care taker

Myers Micheal

... okay? So your sleeping now??? Weird

Nah but fr he was in ASYLUM for FEW years, he probably saw plenty of people who pass out, due to stress, emotions, self destructive stuff ect ect

So he knows what to do and how to do. But he simply doesn't want to lol

Hes sure that you will be fine. He will just make sure that you didht break anything or that you are laying in position that makes you able to breath of course

S/o gonna wake up with muscle pain and headache :(

Gonna tell micheal that. No babe you arent edgy, you are just an asshole

Next time he gonna sigh loudly and put s/o back to bed. Only because they gonna be mad at him afterwards.. its not that he cares! Pfff micheal? He totally doesn't care pfff

Overall 4/10 will judge the position you passed out in

Billy lenz

Will sit on their chest, litteraly he gonna choke them frfr. But he didnt mean to so it doesnt count!

Will talk to them while they are passed out

Will drag them to couch because no way in hell hes going to drag them all way upstairs

Will get bored and lonley >:(

When s/o wakes up they have to explain to him that, no s/o wasn't sleeping, they were timed out of life

Gonna bring them glas of water

Gonna look at them with his goblin eyes,and be like 'sooo can we play uno now?' 'Honey I see everything doubled now 'okay... so can we play uno now'

Next time they pass out he is gonna put them in so many blankets they turn into burrito (not only in looks but also its probably extremely hot)

Overall 6/10 would rather play uno

Asa emory

"Ooh honey..." picks them up✅, carries to bed✅, puts in right position✅, grabs water and mess from kitchen✅

He is so ✅✅✅

Will ask them about how they feel, do they need to puke? Maybe stronger meds? Are you cold? Or maybe too hot?

But he isn't very 'in your face' with all those questions, he asks them just like doctor would, with absolute no emotion or huge facial reactions. He knows it might be stressful or overwhelming

Will give space if needed

He also made sure to reread books and articles about people who pass out randomly to make sure to read theirs body language

Dont worry little butterfly you can rest now

Overall 10/10 but made you watch his beatle collections while you couldn't leave bed

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biird-rot · 29 days

Text

Leon Kennedy is Autistic: An Analysis by an Autistic Person

DISCLAIMER: This post and all the points I make are highly based on my OWN experiences. I often find parallels between my experiences as a disabled individual and characters I love to help me better cope with and process my feelings. Hate will not be tolerated!!!

Before I get started, I’d like to say that this is not even me scratching the SURFACE of the things I could analyze about Leon and apply to various autistic experiences, this is mostly just the things that resonate with me the most.

Parallel Play/Preferring to Work Alone

It could be attributed to trauma, and the fact he works in a government agency, but Leon has always been the flying solo type. Missions in which it would be better if multiple people worked on it (RE4) HOWEVER! Whenever he does work with others, he often goes off on his own and leaves whoever he's with to deal with what's there (DI, Leon going off immediately after being vaccinated by Rebecca)

Difficulty Communicating/Identifying Emotions

This also plays into the difficulty making friends and maintaining friendships aspect of being autistic. There isn't any direct/obvious representations of this occurring in the franchise, but it can be inferred based upon his interaction with Chris and Rebecca in RE: Vendetta when the two try to recruit Leon on their mission because of the intel he has on the type of BOWs they're dealing with. Speaking of RE: Vendetta, it can also be noted that Leon copes with his inability to cope with/regulate his emotions by drinking, and this is a habit he always had. In fact, he's essentially hung over in RE2, having drunk his feelings away after being broken up with the night before the Raccoon City incident, and he is literally drinking on the job in Damnation. Essentially, he's canonically an alcoholic. As an autistic person, sometimes I would turn to unhealthy coping mechanisms to deal with my emotional dysregulation, especially when I was unaware that I was autistic.

Leon isn't a very emotional person in general, again, It could be chalked up to trauma, but lack of emotional expression is also a common experience/trait amongst autistics.

“Inappropriate” Responses to Situations

GODDDD this one is SO prominent in RE4R (hell, even the OG), Infinite Darkness actually everything he's in, I can name at LEAST 2 examples of this. To keep this short, I'll just name ones that I relate painfully hard to, and ones that I find hilarious.

To start, WHENEVR HE JUST SAYS "ok 🧍" in response to an emotional moment. RE2R, when Claire introduces him to Sherry, in RE4R, when Ashley hugs him and expresses her relief that he's okay, and in Infinite Darkness whenever he checks up on Patrick after the White House Outbreak. It never fails to make me lose it because he's just like me fr.

Thists a sillier one, but I want to mention it because it's so mecore.

Thank you to @highball66 for doing the lord's work of translating the Death Island manga yall seriously he’s a legend🙏

When Leon sends selfies of him on missions. That's it. He just sends it to Hunnigan and I think it's great.

Sensory Issues

Okay, I KNOW LEON IS A GOVERNMENT AGENT AND NEEDS SOME LEVEL OF GEAR ON MISSIONS BUT!!!!! Half the time he isn't even wearing a full set, not even a bullet proof vest. HOWEVER, I did notice that one thing he CONSISTENTLY wears (with the exception of a few instances) is GLOVES!!! This is more of a personal headcannon, but I like to think he's sensitive to texture, especially when handling guns and such, so he wears gloves, so it doesn't feel as terrible. To further back up his sensitivity to texture, in Death Island, after the Dylan BOW explodes and splashes water everywhere, Chris doesn't seem to care about being covered in water while Leon is flicking the water off him.

Literal Thinking - Coming off as Rude/Inappropriate Unintentionally

GODDDDD this is another big one, but I’ll only cover the ones that I relate to a lot to save time. Starting with his initial encounter with Jill in Death Island, they’re being chased by lickers and…well..this interaction

Exhibit B: This scene. He’s just so nonchalant about it and I do the exact same thing without like…intentionally being a “smartass” or whatever, I’m just being honest 🧍. Jill’s “Oh😒” at the end of the scene is really what made it hit home, because that’s how people typically react when i have a similar interaction with them

ANOTHER THING!!! All of the instances in which Leon casually asks “so you wanna get dinner?” Or something along those lines. It’s often interpreted as a poor attempt at flirting, but personally, I think he genuinely just wants food, and he doesn’t understand why ppl are like 🤨 when he asks. He just wants a nice dinner with a nice lady :(

Hyper-empathy

Small disclaimer here, autism is a SPECTRUM. And our empathy levels fluctuate every day. In Leon’s case, I see him being hyper-empathetic, much like myself. And being able to empathize so easily with people is incredibly draining. Additionally, a huge thing that is common among autistics is how we tend to respond to people who are sharing their struggles with us sharing our OWN experiences that are similar to theirs, and it often comes off as egocentric and selfish to “make it about us”, but in reality, that’s our way of saying that we understand what you’re going through, and it helps us process how you may be feeling as well. There are many scenes I could pull from, but I want to talk about one specifically in Infinite Darkness since it resonates so much with me:

The scene within ID in which Jason is having a nightmare, and Leon wakes him up, immediately asking him if he wants to talk about it. Jason recalls the nightmare and his trauma about Penamstan to Leon, and says that he has no idea what it was like, and Leon responds talking about his experience in Raccoon City, and how that affected him similarly

Special Interests & Using Media to Communicate Feelings

There are many aspects of this I could talk about, but I’ve already written 10 pages worth already in this post, so I’ll speed through it.

Personally, I think Leon has a special interest in film! He makes several references throughout the franchise, many of which are overlooked. Personally, my favorite reference he makes is in RE: Vendetta to Pulp Fiction (I think) when Chris and Rebecca confront him during his “vacation”

Final Notes/Conclusion

I had to cut a LOT out from my original mini-essay I wrote about this to fit it better on here, and make it not as boring to read lmao, but I hope you enjoyed my silly little analysis! I love being able to relate my experiences to others, fictional or otherwise, as it helps me feel less alone, and be able to process and cope with what makes my disability a…well, a disability. I hope fellow autistics find some solace in this as well, and please let me know your additional thoughts about this topic if you’re a fellow autistic Leon Kennedy headcannoner!!!

#biird rot #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy resident evil #leon kennedy re4 #leon kennedy re2 #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil 4r #re4 remake #re4remake #resident evil vendetta #resident evil death island #character analysis #actually autistic

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im-sleepdeprived · 11 days

Text

Crazier • Pt. 2

wc: 8.8k (but totally worth it i PROMISE)

pairing: mcu!peter parker x reader

a/n: part two is here! she's a little long but i swear i've never had so much fun writing and editing a fic so i promiseeee its totally worth it !!! i love this one so much so please pleaseee let me know what you think ! i love talking to you guys (i feel the need to tell yall this is totally a PETER x reader fic you’ll understand but DONT WORRY ITS JUST FOR PLOT BRO)

warning: literally nothing, a few f-bombs, and kids going psycho (in the best way) at school

read part 1 here

The weird, auto-tuned, voice startled you and made you turn around, wiping your eyes so you could see clearly. When you saw who it was you rubbed your eyes again for good measure because there was no way.

"Huh?" you said meekly, mentally slapping face palming for acting so dumb in front of New York's hero.

His head tilted and his masked face shifted in what you could only guess was a grin, "I said can I walk you home? It's pretty dark and I don't really trust the streets and, trust me, I would know. Plus, your crying and being distracted is really dangerous."

"I'm not crying," you were, in fact, crying. It was obvious to both of you. Your red eyes and pink stuffy nose, despite trying to fight the tears so you could get home, only came in harder.

"Ok well I'm just gonna ignore the fact that you're totally lying and ask again, can I walk you home?" despite there being a weird robotic tinge to his voice, you thought he sounded desperate. Plus you didn't really think he'd take a 'no' as an answer. Or if you were even allowed to give him that answer, he was a superhero after all.

So you nodded and his entire posture seemed to relax when you hadn't even realized he seemed tense. Wow, he must take his job seriously. You started walking, silently leading the way as he followed right beside you.

"Can I ask why you're crying?"

"You just did," you replied flatly not really meaning to sound so mean despite the tone you had used.

You sighed, "Shit, I'm sorry Mr. Spider-Man, here you are being all nice trying to make sure I get home all right and I'm being a total ass."

"No it's all right, you don't have to answer if you don't want to I just wanted to make sure everything was alright," his tone was soft, and somehow, despite not knowing him at all, you felt like you could trust him.

"I broke up with my boyfriend," you whispered and you weren't really sure if he would catch it, but he did.

"He must've been real stupid for you to do that, huh?"

You laughed. "God yes," your humor died down and your face fell, "but he was a great boyfriend, y'know, just...before he wasn't."

You passed the cafe that was near your apartment building when he asked, "What'd he do that made you snap?"

You were silent for a minute, debating whether you should answer that or not when you finally stopped in front of your building making him pause beside you as well.

"Well we're here," you slapped your hands together as you stood there awkwardly.

"Yeah, yeah. Um, maybe we could chat again sometime, totally friendly, of course," he added the last part rushed, waving his hands slightly. It made you laugh genuinely this time.

"Sure bug boy, I hang out on the roof a lot." you could actually use a friend to talk to after today. "If you're ever swinging by and you see me, you should stop to say hey."

"Really," Peter felt weird, you two had always sat on your apartment roof together, climbing up from your fire escape. And now he'd never get the chance to do it again. Not as Peter at least, but here you were inviting Spider-Man to hang out with you again.

He decided he'd take what he could get.

You smiled slightly and turned around to go inside when he spoke up again, "Wait how does tonight sound?" He asked, and if you didn't know any better you might even say he sounded nervous. That only made you smile more.

"Tonight sounds great," you said., "Oh. And thanks for walking me home. I really appreciate it." You shoot him one last smile before finally turning around and getting inside.

Despite it being dark on your way home, it wasn't that late, it was just winter. You started your homework and worked swiftly, not giving in to any of the distractions you usually did. You wanted to be completely free tonight. Maybe befriending Spider-Man would help improve your grades too.

When the clock struck 9 p.m. and your parents went to bed, you closed your door and silently locked it before walking over to the window and pushing it open.

You grabbed a book and headed up, deciding to read until he got there. It was freezing despite the big sweater you were wearing. After waiting five minutes and him still being a no-show, you decided to go make some tea.

Making your way down, you made two mugs of tea as quietly as you could without waking anyone in the apartment. It didn't take long and soon enough you were carefully making your way up the fire escape again, trying your best not to spill any of the hot liquid.

While you were focused on steadily moving so you didn't spill your drinks, you didn't notice the masked hero sitting on the ledge.

"There you are," his voice startled you but, miraculously, the tea didn't spill, "I've been waiting for like, forever." You had a feeling he rolled his eyes.

"Oh shut up," you handed him a mug, "I was just up here dumbass. But it got cold so I decided to make us something hot."

He used his free hand to put a finger on his chin, tilting his head, as if in thought, "Having trouble deciding if I should be offended you called me a dumbass or flattered that you made me a cup of tea."

You laughed out loud and he felt his heart flutter, the sound a nice contrast to the yelling that had gone down between you two earlier that day.

"Wait so I never got your name," he asked in fake interest. Obviously, he didn't need you to tell him. But you didn't know that.

"Y/N. what's yours?" you asked innocently and it was his turn to laugh. "Ha! Nice try," he joked and you just shrugged.

"Whatcha reading?" He pointed towards the book you had brought up with you, "Business or pleasure?"

You laughed, and grabbed the book, "Definitely pleasure. It's my favorite actually. I've read it too many times to count."

His heart fell a little. Your favorite? How did he not know that? He remembered the cover though..or maybe just the color scheme of it. The more he thought about it the more he realized he didn't really remember the book at all. God, he really couldn't blame you for ending things.

"Can you tell me about it," he asked softly. He loved it when you went on about a topic you loved and all the facial expressions and hand motions that came with your storytelling.

"Are you kidding? I can write a 20-page essay about this book," you scoffed lightly, "but I really don't wanna bore you so it's okay."

"No way! I asked, so how would you bore me. Tell me about it, maybe I'll pick it up from the next bookstore I pass."

So you did. You went on and on about certain themes that stood out to you while reading, and how important some lessons were. You showed him your annotations and notes and he realized you really weren't joking about the '20-page-essay' quip.

He loved the way you were so passionate about the subject and all the thought you'd put into this. But seeing you like this made him realize something, it'd been so long since you'd been like this with him. Now that he thought about it, he couldn't really remember the last time you'd gone on one of these little rants with him.

Some time while you were talking you'd both finished your tea (him only pulling up his mask to the tip of his nose, taking a sip, and quickly bringing it back down. he didn't wanna risk anything), setting the cups far to the side.

He let you finish before talking, "Wow that's a lot to take in, am I the only person who's been fortunate enough to have this wisdom passed onto them?"

You laughed, "Kinda, yeah."

That shocked him a little, at least if you hadn't shared it with him he thought you might've talked about it with MJ. He might not have known much (apparently) but he knew how much you loved to talk about a book after you read it, whether you liked it or not. And the fact that this was your favorite and you'd read it multiple times and hadn't shared it with anyone was weird to him.

"Really? How come? Are your friends not into reading," he asked, trying to be subtle.

You just shrugged, "I don't really have friends," he made a sound of disbelief which made you chuckle before continuing, "I mean obviously I have friends in the traditional sense of the word but I'm not close enough with anyone to just speak my thoughts like that, y'know?"

He tried, he really did, but he could feel the hurt coursing through him, did you never feel comfortable enough around him?

"Really? you seem like the kind of person who has too many friends. What about your boyfriend?"

"ex-boyfriend," you corrected him bitterly, and it left him wondering if you felt that same pang of hurt adding those two extra letters that changed everything.

"Right," he said quietly, "but still, did you never feel comfortable enough around him?" He knew it wasn't his place to ask you such questions, hell it wasn't his place to be talking to you at all, you had made that clear, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't just leave you alone to walk home alone, hurt, and in the dark. And now, he really wanted to know what your answer to his question would be.

You wanted to make a joke about how he was really going at it with the questions but you didn't have it in you. So you just thought about it a little before answering, "Well of course I was comfortable with him, at one point I guess, he wasn't just my boyfriend he was my best friend. And I guess that's what really sucks the most about the breakup.

"He was the only person I shared anything with but it just got to the point where I used to try and talk about anything and he'd just blow me off. It happened a few times before I just stopped altogether, it hurt too much when it felt like he didn't care. I stopped and it was like 'If I don't say anything, I can't get hurt'. If I didn't talk then I wouldn't feel that rejection again and I always had the little part in the back of my brain that said 'Of course he cares but don't say anything, just in case.'

"He's a busy guy, and I get that, I really do. I just never thought he'd get so busy he wouldn't care about me anymore."

You hadn't realized how close you'd come to tears until you felt yourself sniffle, "Shit, sorry," you laughed bitterly, "I didn't mean to get emotional, it's whatever now, it's over."

Peter heard his heart crack. Saying he felt terrible was an understatement. He felt horrendous that he made you feel that way, even worse that he didn't even realize that he did until you just said so.

"God I'm so sorry," he said, his voice feeling weak and he was extra thankful for the new voice-changer he'd been using lately. "He sounds like a total jerk." He was, he definitely was.

You force a little smile, "Oh well," you shrugged, "we'll both move on."

But deep down, neither of you believed that.

You had a long night. Turns out your city's hero had a lot more to him than you'd originally thought. He was extremely funny, always making little remarks about everything, and he was a great listener. Not a boring one either, he asked questions and seemed genuinely interested in what you were saying.

It was the main thing on your mind that day that you almost forgot the problem at hand. Almost.

Going back to school was something you were dreading. You didn't want to see Peter at all, just thinking about it was totally ruining your mood.

You arrived and headed straight for MJ's locker. You tapped her shoulder, "Heyyyy," you said, making her narrow her eyes at you.

"What happened," she deadpanned and you sighed. You rubbed the bridge of your nose just making her more skeptical.

"Peter and I broke up." You said softly, not meeting her eyes. If you had, you would've seen they were filled with rage.

"What," she asked lowly making you look up. You two were good friends but you didn't really think she'd care much, just because MJ wasn't the best at showing emotions like that.

"Yeah, yesterday after rehearsal I broke up with him. He pushed it too far," you shrugged trying to put it off as nothing but she could see right through your charade.

"C'mere," she slammed her locker shut and interlocked your arms together making you smile in delight. This was so unlike her and you were going to enjoy every moment.

It was like that, your elbows locked together, you beaming and her with a dead-set look on her face as you headed for first period. You were so caught up in the joy of MJ being a little touchy-feely for once that you didn't realize she wasn't actually headed towards class but instead down the hall towards the locker of your ex.

Luckily you caught on while you were still a few feet away, dragging her to a stop in the student-packed hall.

"Hey, hey, hey. What do you think you're doing?" You looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Going to chew out your ex-boyfriend for being a dick," she said as if it were obvious.

You snuck a glance at him just in time to see him swerving his head opposite direction. So, he had definitely seen you. You shook your head, "Mj you can't do that, you'll scare him so bad you'll send him into cardiac arrest."

She cracked a smile at that until she looked in his direction and her face fell again, "No way. I'm gonna beat him into a pulp I swear-"

"Michelle," she tensed as you used her full name, "I'm fine. In fact, I broke up with him." Her shoulders deflated. "I'm not letting him off the hook that easily," she mumbled and you nodded, not really expecting her to. "I'm gonna give him the death stare all day long." She continued.

"And I'm sure he'll turn to stone by the end of the day," you said reassuringly. Her face lifted a little.

"But if he even tries to pull some stupid shit, I will not hesitate," she gave you a look that said 'this is the one thing you have no say over' and you nodded again. Anything as long as she didn't approach him and embarrass the three of you in the crowded school hallways.

She seemed satisfied with that answer, and so you both turned around to actually get to class this time but not before you snuck another glance at Peter who, for some reason, was looking a little paler than a few seconds ago. Even a little..scared? Maybe he heard MJ's threats, you humored yourself, turning your head away from him again. But that was impossible because the halls were way too crowded for him to have overheard you both. Not to mention you were still a ways away from him.

The rest of the day went by easier than you thought it would, with extremely minimal interactions with Peter. none, in fact, after the MJ incident (who had stuck by your side all day like your own personal bodyguard).

Of course, it might've been because you were avoiding him. You knew his schedule well and you knew where he'd be at almost all hours of the day. Even in your shared classes, you'd charmed some other students into switching seats with you so you didn't have to sit beside him anymore.

There was no rehearsal today so you dragged MJ to get ice cream with you, despite her initial refusal. You just needed a distraction, you didn't feel like going home and drowning in your thoughts for the rest of the day so you were gonna stall as much as you could.

You paid for your ice creams and MJ chose a booth in the back for you both to sit at. Once upon a time, you all used to come here as a group (you, MJ, Ned, and Peter) and sometimes just you and Peter alone on simple dates. The memories hurt to think about so you pushed them aside trying to only focus on the sweetness of your chocolate ice cream.

"So why'd you do it," MJ asked bluntly. You looked at her and furrowed your brows, not knowing what she meant.

She sighed, "Why'd you break up with him? I can see how down in the dumps you've been all day, you clearly didn't want to do it, so why did you?" She didn't ask it in a nosy manner, just simply, as if she were asking you for today's date.

You exhaled slowly, trying to buy yourself time because as much as you didn't want to answer her question, you had to. You felt as if you owed her that much with how extra kind and supportive she was acting today, despite that going against her usual personality. And plus, she was your friend so she should know.

"You know how he was MJ, I always told you," you sighed. You look down and start picking at your nails. "He just promised that he'd be there for one of my rehearsals claiming that, since they meant so much to me, he should go to one. And even though I kept telling him no and that he probably wouldn't be able to make it, he promised,

"He promised, and he still couldn't show up. So it just made me start thinking, and if he can't keep his word with simple things like that, how can I trust him with bigger things like a relationship? All the other times he's bailed on me, no explanation, and I'd just feel so stupid and hurt after getting stood up again. And I just snapped I guess."

MJ nodded solemnly as the bell above the door rang. Just out of curiosity, you looked up from your ice cream and you immediately wished you hadn't because walking in was Peter and Ned.

"Speak of the devil," you muttered as you buried your head down, letting your hair cover your face. MJ gave you a confused look before turning around and seeing just what you were talking about. She muttered a few profanities before grabbing your hand and dragging you up by your wrist.

As soon as you stood up two pairs of eyes landed on the both of you and before you could even think about where to run away, Ned was heading towards you with Peter right at his heels.

You cringed and MJ stood up straighter and tensed. You put a hand on her shoulder to remind her to relax and not turn on 'kill mode' yet.

"Hey guys," Ned said smiling big and for a second you thought maybe Peter didn't tell him about the breakup. Until you saw him send a not-so-subtle slap to the back of his shoulder but Ned ignored it.

"Hey Ned," you said softly giving him a tight smile and avoiding Peter's eyes despite feeling them burning holes into your skin. MJ just stood stiffly.

"Funny running into you guys here huh? Me and Pete just came here for a little treat, y'know we need a pick-me-up after that math quiz," he laughed and you forced a small chuckle. You two seemed to be the only ones trying, Peter was just staring at you the whole time and MJ was glaring at him, waiting for him to try something so she had an excuse to pounce.

"Say, aren't you in the same class Y/N? How was the test for you," he asked, clearly trying to keep the conversation flowing but as you opened your mouth to answer, someone else did.

"Well, this has been just great. Not," MJ said which made heat rush to your face. As uncomfortable as you were, you never wanted to be rude to them, especially Ned. He had done nothing wrong and he was only being nice.

"But Y/N and I have plans to be elsewhere so see ya later Leeds. And Parker, you might want to blink before your eyeballs dry out, not that I'd mind," she muttered the last part but you all still heard it so you sent a slap to her arm. She just shrugged as you turned towards Ned, still avoiding even looking at Peter, "Yea it was nice to see you Ned but we do have somewhere to be so we should catch up some other time," you tried more politely.

"Yeah, of course," he sent you another smile as MJ dragged you by your arm out the door and you waved lamely at him. You both stopped as the door closed behind you. you inhaled deeply, trying to calm your nerves.

"Oh my fuck, that was stressful," you muttered.

MJ gave you a sympathetic look before gesturing to follow her, "Come on, let's find somewhere else to hang out."

you followed her and looked into the window of the shop where you saw Peter and Ned hunched over whispering about something. probably about how awkward that interaction was.

"Come on y/n, pleaseeeeeee," Lexi begged, giving you big, wide, puppy dog eyes.

It was the next day after school and you were currently being bombarded by the whole cast and crew to play a big round of truth or dare with them.

So they sent Lexi to convince you, knowing how close you two were. And also how stubborn she was.

"But we have work to do," you whined pathetically. "Y/N honestly everything is done. and plus, we have one more rehearsal before opening night so if we did miss anything, which we didn't, we'll get it done that day," someone else from the crowd yelled, the rest yelling in agreement.

They were especially laying it on you because Mrs. Lightbody was absent today, leaving you in charge alone.

"Y/N/N, what are you even worrying about," Lexi asked, "you have everything memorized down to a 't'. Like, honestly, if any one of us had to bail last minute you could totally take over because I know you have every part of the script memorized." Everyone else was laughing in agreement and you looked down knowing it was true.

"I mean, come on, isn't truth or dare such a 'seventh grade' kinda game," you tried for measly, knowing that what she said was true, almost everything was ready for the big day and the minor stuff left could be taken care of at the last rehearsal.

"Well if you don't wanna play truth or dare we can always do something else," Lexi offered, giddy at the fact that you might actually agree.

"How about a scavenger hunt," someone suggested.

"Yeah! Me and Jack can write up a bunch of lists of tasks to do and items to gather. It'll take us less than 10 minutes," Lacy offered.

Everyone looked around and you finally spoke up, "Sure why not," you gave in and everyone started cheering, some even whistling, "A bunch of kids running around an empty school? What could go wrong?" you told them, the whole group laughing loud.

Everyone lounged around for a few minutes while Lacy and Jack laid out somewhere on the stage, pulling out a bunch of empty papers and started writing on them. You watched as Jack said something that made Lacy laugh, making a blush form on his cheeks. it had once been like that with me and Peter, you thought, but you tried not to let that bitter feeling seep in again.

As if sensing your distress, Lexi came over and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "Hey," she said softly, "maybe this'll be good for you, y'know. You work really hard and you need something to forget about that Parker kid for once. so let's go wild and run around the school a bit." you smiled, thinking about how ridiculous this whole thing really was and how Mrs. Lightbody would endlessly scold you if she ever found out. but you also couldn't help the excitement bubbling in you. this sounded like a lot of fun.

"Yea, you're right," you agreed and you both lounged out on the stairs on the side of the stage until Jack stood up on the center stage and whistled, gathering everyone's attention.

he waited, Lacy beside him holding a bunch of paper scraps, until everyone was close until he began, "Fellow children of theater," he started dramatically, "I hold before you midtown's very first, annual, theater games." everyone cheered and clapped.

"You may gather into groups, as many as you like, just no more than four to a group, please. Now if you will, sort yourselves, and once your group is ready, come grab the paper that will have your tasks from Lady Lacy." He finished and motioned to Lacy who took a bow and everyone clapped once more. Man, you were gonna miss these kids once this play was over.

you and Lexi decided that you were just going to go together but as you were getting ready to get up on stage, Brad Davis approached you two.

"Hey," he greeted with that charming smile of his. Lexi greeted him while you waved silently beside her.

"Mind if I join you two," he asked the both of you, but his eyes were only on you, searching for your reaction to his question.

"Of course Brad," Lexi said, being the overly polite person she was. He nodded but he was still looking at you hopefully so you decided to answer, "Of course, you can join us," you smiled slightly. "After all, three minds are better than two. And I'm sure we'll need the extra help with whatever those two have planned for us," you motioned to the two leaders of this event, making Brad and Lexi laugh.

The three of you made your way to Jack and Lacy to grab a list of tasks. You approached them, "Hey Lace, can we grab a sheet?"

"Of course," she said sweetly. She grabbed a paper then looked down and laughed lowly. you all looked at her confused and she just ignored you, turning to nudge Jack. He didn't help your confusion when he looked at the paper and burst out laughing.

"What? What is it," Lexi asked, stepping forward. Lacy shook her head, "It's nothing, it's just," she laughed a little more, "me and Jack sorta wrote this one as a joke, the tasks on here are hella extreme, and frankly," she looked at you, "I don't know if you can handle it Y/N."

You must've looked taken aback because she quickly added, "I mean no offense, honestly you're so smart that if I had to choose anyone to actually complete these I'd choose you."

"Then why don't you think I can handle it," you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow. "Well I know you're a stickler for the rules," she started, "and these break basically all of them."

"Lemme see that," you snatched the paper out of her hand and read it. well, you started to read it, but after seeing the first two tasks, you stopped.

You looked up to see her and Jack fighting off smiles. "I can totally get another one for you for you," she started to reach for the paper but you yanked it out of her grasp. "No, no, no. I'm doing this," you stated.

She and Jack exchanged a look, "are you sure," he asked you weakly. You raised your head and put on a defiant look, you loved proving people wrong, "Yes."

You walked away, Brad and Lexi close on your heels, only stopping in front of the auditorium door.

"Can I see it," Lexi asked? You nodded, handed her the paper, and watched as she read through it. Her eyes widened every time she read something on the list, Brad reading over her shoulder.

"Y/N, I love you but you're crazy," she said. You went to reply to her but just then, Jack was at the center of the stage again.

"Everyone has a task card, each group will try their hardest to complete all the tasks they were given. We will meet up here in an hour and a half and the winning group will be treated properly." He looked down to set up a timer on his phone. "But there is a trick to this," he paused for dramatic effect, "there's is an obstacle my partner and I have withheld from you all,

"We are, in fact, not alone in the school. There was a teacher meeting to be held after school hours and we have a few stranglers still wandering the halls. So you must be careful not to get caught," he smirked and you feel more of that excitement rush through you. You could really use the adrenaline rush this would definitely bring.

He looked up, holding his phone up for everyone to see, his thumb hovering over the green button that would start the timer, "Let the games commence!" he yelled as his thumb hit the button, the numbers already starting to go down quickly as kids started rushing out the doors.

"Oh my god, we are so gonna get caught," Lexi whined, making you laugh. "Well, we aren't gonna win with that attitude, come on Lex, live a little."

"Yeah what she said," Brad laughed and stepped forward to hold the door open for the both of you.

"Such a gentleman," you muttered as you stuck your head out to look down the halls both ways before grabbing Lexi's hand and dragging her after you.

"Read the first one Lex," you whispered as you scouted the halls for any sign of movement.

"'Bring back a lightbulb that is currently being used in one of the rooms in the building'," she read off the paper.

You thought for a second, "Most of the school uses tube lights so where can we get a light bulb?"

The three of you were quiet for a second before Brad piped up, "The library has ceiling fans that use lightbulbs," he suggested, but it sounded more like a question.

You clapped him on the shoulder, "Brad you're a genius." His face seemed to light up at your compliment.

The three of you headed towards the library, running into a few other kids who were also trying to complete their lists.

You quietly opened the doors and motioned for Lexi and Brad to stay behind as you made sure there were no librarians or teachers present. Once you were positive the coast was clear, you let them in and went towards the ceiling fan furthest in the back, in case anyone walked in.

You stood up on the table but you couldn't reach, "Brad, you're tall. Get up here," you instructed and he followed.

"I have a better idea," and before you could ask what it was, he picked you up by the waist and lifted you up to where you could easily unscrew it.

You carefully twisted it until the light gave out and the warm glass fell into your hands. You looked down at Brad, who was still holding you, and smiled, "Thank you."

He smiled back and let you down, both of you stepping off the table. Lexi clapped lightly, "Ok first task done," she grabbed a pen from her pocket and crossed it out. As soon as she lifted the pen from the paper you heard a door close.

You all looked at each other panicked. You brought a finger up to your lips and quietly tiptoed your way between the shelves, leading them to the back exit.

Everything was going smoothly until Lexi accidentally bumped into a chair making it fall to the floor, the metal making a loud noise. You all froze in your tracks as the school's librarian's voice rang out, "Hello? Who's there?"

Quickly thinking, you handed them the lightbulb and ushered both of them to the other side of the shelf as her footsteps sounded closer and closer. Once they were completely hidden from your view you pretended to browse the books on the shelf just as Ms. Smith approached you.

"Oh Y/N, it's just you. What're doing here so late," she asked, her scratchy voice prickling your skin.

"Um well, as you may know, I'm directing the school play that's performing this Friday," you said. She nodded for you to go on, still looking suspicious.

"There's actually a rehearsal today and I managed to find some time to sneak away to the library to get a book," you continued, having no idea where you were going with this.

"You came here this late just to get a book? You know the library is closed at this time of day dear, it's only open during school hours," she said, still sounding suspicious so you knew you had to bring out the big guns.

You sighed looking down, trying your hardest to seem heartbroken, "Well you see Ms. Smith, my boyfriend broke up with me and I just really needed to get lost in a good book to forget how hurt I am," you forced your voice to crack and looked away wiping your eyes from nothing.

"At the 'Greek Mythology' section," she questioned, and you almost faltered. But you were too committed.

You nodded, your lip quivering, "he always used to tell me stories of the Greek myths. And the story of Orpheus and Eurydice," you let out a choked sob. "it's so romantic."

She ate. it. up. "Why yes it is, it's one of my favorites actually. Well, you take your time dear," she rubbed your shoulder as you buried your face into your hands, "and let me know if you need anything else, alright? I'll be up at the front desk."

You just sobbed harder until she left. Once you were sure she was gone, you moved your hands away from your face, which was bone dry.

You went behind the shelf to find Brad and Lexi shuffled together. You had to hold your laughter until you exited into the halls.

You grabbed Lexi's hands and laughed, "Did you see how she totally bought that?"

Lexi laughed with you, "You were really good Y/N, I almost bought it too! And the fake crying? Absolutely genius."

"Yea Y/N, I almost thought you were fresh out of a breakup," Brad added and you laughed again. "That part is actually true," you inform him, "everything else though, was a part of the bit. Peter doesn't know the first thing about Greek mythology let alone the story of Orpheus and Eurydice." you laugh.

"Oh? So Parker's out of the picture," he asked and you just nodded as you read the next task on the paper, not noticing his smile.

You were dead set on doing everything on this list

A little over an hour had passed. You and Brad were currently busy unscrewing one of the circular seats from a cafeteria table. Of course, you had no tools so you had to improvise. You found that if you bent a bobby pin just the right way, it'll do the trick.

You kept twisting the bobby pin until you heard a clattering sound as the last screw fell off. Brad held up the seat as the three of you grinned. You were so gonna win this.

You stood up and opened up the bag with the rest of your supplies as Brad added your new prize. You had stolen a trash bag from the janitor's closet to hold everything for you. As the three of you walked down the hallways holding the most random collection of things, you spoke up, "Lex, what's next on the list?"

She looked down and the smile that was previously on her face quickly disappeared as she seemed to pale a little. "Oh no," she muttered.

"What? What is it," you asked as you all stopped in your tracks.

"It's the last one," she said and you smiled, happy that you'd made it this far.

"Ok so what's the problem," you asked, not really seeing what she was getting at. "Out of everything on this list," she started, "this is the one that will for sure get us expelled."

You and Brad exchanged a look, "Hit me with it."

"We have to steal the principal's desk chair."

"Those little shits," you muttered, your hands clenching into fists. "So that's it right? I mean, we got everything else on here, we don't have to win. We made it further than any of us thought we would," she said but you were already shaking your head.

"We have to win, we are going to win," you were so determined to win this stupid game and you weren't even sure why.

Lexi looked up, closed her eyes, and brought her hands up together, "Dear god, I'm too young to die. my parents would kill me."

Brad laughed as you headed down the hall towards the principal's office. Once you reached where you could see it, you crouched, the others right beside you.

the walls on his side of the office were glass and you could see Principal Morita sitting at his desk. You sighed and turned to face your partners, "I have a plan but it's a little crazy."

"Oh please, this whole thing has been more than a little crazy, just hit us with it Y/L/N," Lexi whispered.

"Ok one of us will have to lure him out while the other two wait behind the door. While he's in the hallway and whoever's with him is keeping him distracted, the other two sneak into the office, roll the chair out the other door, and wait around the corner. Once we're done and completely secure, we send some sort of signal and he's free to go back in."

You were unsure, it was a little all over the place and really risky but they were both nodding at you. "Ok I can distract him, I know exactly what to talk to him about," Lexi offered and you laughed.

You looked at Brad, "Guess it's you and me." You started crawling to the other side of the hall, careful to stay low so Morita wouldn't see you.

"Yup," he muttered, "your regular Bonnie and Clyde." You held in a laugh as you got situated on the brick wall at the side of the office, made sure you were out of view from the door, and motioned for Lexi to go ahead.

She took a deep breath and knocked on the door, the sound ringing out loud in the quiet hallway. It didn't take long before the door opened and was held right in between you and your school's principal.

"Um, yes, may I help you," you heard him ask.

"Sorry to bother you sir, but I really needed to talk to you about something," Lexi said desperately. "Ok why don't you go ahead and take a seat in my office," he offered. "NO," she cleared her throat, knowing she had said that too loud, "what is mean is, no I can't I'm kind of in a hurry." You heard her take a few steps back. "We should just speak out here."

Mr. Morita followed her, letting go of the door as he stepped forward but Brad grabbed the handle before it could close. He held it open for you as you crawled in and he followed behind before quietly shutting it after him.

You two crawled up to his office careful not to be seen since this side of his office wall was made of glass. Currently, his back was to you and Brad while Lexi was facing you but was careful not to let her eyes wander and betray her.

"Ok," you silently opened the door, "we'll need to pick it up until we round the corner because the noise of it rolling would definitely catch his attention."

"Alright I can handle that," Brad said as he grabbed the legs of the chair and stood up but you motioned for him to stop. You moved out the door and peeked your head around the wall the tiniest bit. You saw Lexi passionately going on about something and from what you could see of Morita, he looked a little uncomfortable. You made a mental to ask her later what she was going on about. Once you were sure that Mr. Morita wouldn't see you, you stuck your hand and made a 'shooing' motion.

You weren't sure if Lexi would see it or not but she must've seen it from the corner of her eye because she moved so that she was facing the hallway you had to go down head-on, making Morita turn even more as he listened to whatever it was she was rambling about.

Now, with his back directly towards you and the new direction you were headed, you both left the office and you silently shut the door. Brad quietly put down the chair, "Get on," he ordered. You looked at him a little confused as he tried again, "Come on, it'll be fun."

Hell, you'd already done way crazier things today than you ever thought you would. One more couldn't hurt. So you sat on the chair as he picked it up and walked down the hall. You had to hold in your laughter.

Once he turned the corner he set you down, stuck his head out, and shot Lexi a thumbs up. Less than a minute later, she approached you guys. "Go before he sees us," she whisper-yelled.

You were still sitting in the seat and Brad took it upon himself to push you through the halls. It was such a rush, laughing in the chair with your hair flying around you, two of your newest best friends right behind you. It was one of those moments that you knew right then and there how special it was and how much you cherish it in the years to come, all the moments from today actually. You never would've participated in something like this. Ever. It was fun to be pushed out of your comfort zone, to loosen up a bit. And it was especially fun to do it with these two.

You all arrived at the side doors of the auditorium breathless, you from laughter and Brad and Lexi from the running and laughter.

"Oh. my. GOD. I can't believe we actually pulled that off," Lexi said, smacking her forehead, eyes wide.

"Hell yeah, we did," you looked at Brad and grinned as you held out your hand for a high-five. "Lex," you turned towards her, "time?"

She looked down at her watch, "Ten minutes before the deadline," she smiled. She opened the door for the three of you and you all walked inside, extremely proud of yourselves.

The auditorium was empty, to your surprise, with only you three and Lacy and Jack working on something up on stage. You all walked up the steps, "Hey guys," you spoke up.

They looked up a little confused hearing your voice, "Oh hey Y/N," Jack said, "done already?" you nodded casually and looked down picking at your nails, peeking up to see the shocked expressions on their faces.

"No way," Lacy whispered, "there's no fucking way you could've done all that." She said, louder this time.

You looked up, as if in thought, and put a hand on your chin, "Really lace?" Brad brought up the bag, he had stashed it in a hallway while you did your little office heist and the chair. "Cause I thought I just did," you smirked.

They stood with their mouths agape while the three of you just grinned at each other.

"Well I'm impressed," Jack said as he looked at you and your friends, "can't wait to announce the winners!"

The three of you sat on the edge of the stage while the rest of the groups piled in and handed their lists to Lacy and Jack so they could assess them. Soon enough, everyone had filed back into the auditorium and after a few minutes, Jack shooed everyone off the stage so he could make his announcement.

Once everyone was standing below the stage, Jack walked up to the center as he had done almost 2 hours before. "Students of Midtown," he bellowed, "I come to you with news of your latest adventure. We have gone through everyone's task list and the little prizes they brought back. I'm disappointed to say that only one team completed every task given to them."

Murmurs broke through the students as they wondered which group could've finished everything in so little time. You turned toward Brad and Lexi, "Wait we finished everything so does that mean-"

"I'm pleased to announce, however, the winners of the scavenger hunt. Y/N Y/L/N, Lexi Walker, and Brad Davis, congratulations!" Applause shattered all around you while you, Brad, and Lexi were hugging and high-fiving.

"Get on up here," Lacy shouted. You three were pushed forward by the other kids. You all walked up the steps and stopped in the middle of the large stage. Lacy and Jack turned to grab something and when they were facing you again, you saw what it was and you laughed. They were holding three makeshift crowns, made of cardboard. They were colored yellow (probably with a Crayola marker) and had big colorful jewels glued on the tips.

"Do you like em,'" Lacy asked with glee, "Me and Jack made them while everyone was out."

"I love them," you told her truthfully. The two of them approached your group and crowned you all separately as you stood in the middle with Lexi to your right and Brad to your left.

Jack stepped back, "Ladies and gentlemen, fellow students of Midtown High, let's hear it for the first winners of our very own theater games!"

Applause and cheering roared all around you. You smiled but then remembered something. Leaning to the side towards your friend, you whispered, "Hey Lex, what were you talking about with Mr. Morita, y'know, when you had to distract him for us?" She grinned at you evilly. "I told him that all the girls' bathrooms in the building should have a handful of free menstrual products because incidents happen every day and distract us from our schoolwork."

You threw your head back laughing as she laughed along with you. "Lexi! What did he say?"

"He got so flustered I barely kept him out of his office as long as I did." She told you and you laughed even more. "I can't believe you had the confidence to actually do that," you choked out between fits of laughter. Everyone was still clapping below you. She only shrugged, "Someone had to do it. I was just fortunate to be handed the opportunity." She said it so wisely, you didn't know whether to laugh some more or solemnly nod.

You looked down at your watch and realized rehearsal had actually ended a few minutes ago. You stepped forward, "Thank you, everyone, really. I hope you all had as much fun as I did because I had a blast," you looked back at your friends and smiled, "but, as you know, all good things have to end. It's getting late and before we all start heading home I wanted to talk to you all about something,

"The day after tomorrow is the last rehearsal for us which really sucks because I always look forward to these things. No, seriously, sometimes they're the only thing to get me through the day." Chuckles and little shouts of agreement spread around the group, "And the day after that, is the long-awaited play we've all worked so hard on. And as much as I can't wait to see how amazing everyone's going to do," you looked at Lexi, who smiled right back, "I'll miss seeing your faces every day so, please, if you see me in the hall or in class or something, don't be a stranger. And at our next rehearsal, Mrs. Lightbody will definitely be back so I expect everyone to keep their mouths shut about today. Or none of us will live to make it to opening night."

Everyone clapped with a few people yelling things like "wWe'llmiss you too Y/N" and "Don't worry, this won't be the end of us!" that last one was Jack being as dramatic as ever. You laughed, "Great, now everyone, get your asses home before I get kicked off the cast for keeping you all too late."

Everyone was running around getting their things ready and you were about to do the same when you remembered something. "Hey Lace, Jack," you called them over, "what are you gonna do with everything?"

they looked at each other and smirked before looking back at you, "oh don't worry Y/N, that's for us to worry about." he told you, setting unease in your mind.

You chuckled stiffly, "Um, well, be careful I guess?" They laughed, "Of course we will Y/N/N." Lacy said.

"Ok, well then I'm gonna get going now, bye!" You waved at them and they both waved back. You stepped off the stage, grabbing your bag from the corners of the steps where you'd left it. You were almost at the door when you heard your name being called. Turning around you saw Brad

"Oh, hey Davis," you smiled. "hey Y/N. I was wondering if I could walk home with you," and if you didn't know any better, you'd think he sounded a little nervous.

You laughed, "Of course, you can Brad," you started walking out the door, "unless you're trying to kidnap me then no." you deadpanned, making him laugh. He put up both hands, "Hey, my criminal record is clean and I plan on keeping it that way."

You were outside now and the roads were wet. Apparently, it had rained while you guys were getting it crazy back at school. You fake pouted, "Ugh, that sucks. I have a thing for bad boys," you smiled up at him widely. He dramatically threw his head to the side, getting rid of the hair that had fallen on his face. "Well, I'm as bad as they come."

"Oh?" you questioned, raising a brow. He nodded and leaned in, putting a hand to cover his mouth as he whispered in your ear, "One time, I was trying to parallel park between two cars and I accidentally hit one of them so I got scared just and left."

You burst out laughing, "Oh my god, I was not expecting that. BRAD! you committed a hit and run!" You laughed some more as he just shrugged, "What can I say? I'm just that cool." You fake swooned on him, throwing a hand on your forehead, "Oh my goodness Brad Davis, take me now!"

he laughed as you pushed yourself off him, laughing along with him. It was like that for the rest of the way and you realized how funny he was. He went along with all your bits (which was always appreciated) and made some himself. The walk went by quickly and was over faster than you would've liked.

You stopped in front of the door to your apartment building, "Well this is me." Brad stopped beside you. "Y'know," you started, "you're way cooler than I thought Davis."

He laughed, "Glad you finally figured that out. Maybe we could do this again sometime?"

You nodded, "Yeah, I think I'd like that." He grinned, "Great." you two sat there just staring at each other for a few seconds, the only sound was water hitting the ground as it fell out of gutters, and when he looked like he was about to open his mouth and say something, a car honked and splashed the two of you, leaving the two of you soaked from the side.

You squealed in surprise and laughed. "Holy shit! Well, my socks are ruined now." Brad laughed along and you missed the twinge of disappointment coating his features. "Well, see you tomorrow Brad!" you waved at him as you turned to walk into the building.

As you made your way up the stairs, you couldn't help the excitement still coursing through you. Maybe Spider-Man would pay you a visit. You had a lot to share after today.

read part 3 here !!

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sassuguru · 1 month

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Stepdad Mori Ougai(bsd) x fem stepdaughter reader? Reader burst into meeting room by accident that port mafia members had and she than got punished by mori (smut)

Thank you<3

NAUGHTY GIRL — DEAD DOVE : DO NOT EAT

brochure etiquette get notified! — ao3

26. 02. 2024 stepdaughter!reader — stepcest, dub-con?, age gap ( obvi ), nicknames : "papa" + "baby" + "good girl" + "little girl," exhibitionism, praise, mention of death, mentioned — mori's large influence over r!, implied — safeword, p in v, spanking, pussy slapping. "b4 u talk, no, i don't support hiz actions. but i got daddie issues 'n he's my papa 4 da moment. (yall should tots read ma story on ao3). i need more dark content asks. 'niewho, ty 4 da ask!" the artist says, "made da mum di cuz i hate cheating. if u wan mi 2 change sumthin like da nicknames jus' tell me!"

To no one's surprise, your mother's first marriage didn't last as long as ideal marriages, a.k.a, the marriage you were born out of.

They were both young, no where ready for marriage, the responsibilities that come, and the baby your mother discovered some random night after one too many signs of pregnancy. You couldn't really say that your parents were best, nor were they the worst. They weren't evil people, just premature ones.

You can't call them deadbeats nor active, but one thing you can say, is that your father left first.

It took quite a while for your mother to get into a stable groove for you both, you helping as much as possible so the two of you could at least sleep under a roof of your own. Your mother was gloomy and depressed, you feared she'd collapse one day and leave you alone, until there was a beaming smile on her face.

The cause was a man. A handsome, older, and sophisticated man at that. One interested in her for some strange reason.

Logically, you thought it to be untrue. A rich and hot guy coming to turn around your lives? Impossible! That is, until you find yourself standing in the doorway of his expensive and private villa for a summer vacation, a sparkling ring on your mother's finger.

He's a sweetheart in your experience. Being a standard gentleman: opening doors, paying for items, hand kisses, and sweet words. Though, there's something about him that always threw you off. Ever since you moved in with him when you were 16, and your mother, some age.

Perhaps it was the way he'd subtly suggest things to you and your mother. Like your clothing. Black and Green just so happened to be your color. Then a soft sentence came from his lips during a shopping spree, "Mm, darling, I think you'd look great in pink! Try that one!"

He'd suggest and buy, whispering how cute you were wearing the clothes he bought you. He'd specifically point out things that were extremely girly; ruffles and short skirts galore.

Hed comment how "positively adorable" you looked in that shirt skirt, meant to catch the guys at your school. It often threw you off how many frilly things he bought you, almost everything has ruffles. Then he bought an assortment of bows and headbands. The clothing he suggested you wear reminded you of that of a child, it struck you as odd—though, it didn't seem too big of deal. Hence, you ignored it, and listened. Partially because the clothes did look good on you, and because you started to feel like you wanted his attention on you.

Perhaps it's the healthy need for attention, or maybe it's because he's hot of daddy issues.

It wasn't beyond Mori's notice. He could you longed for his attention, he thought it was cute. Especially the way you snuggled under him during movie nights, or hung tightly on his arm when going about.

And to him and observers, it seemed that those actions increased after your mother's death. It was sudden and confusing. The cause of death being ruled "natural causes," though there was nothing wrong with her (to your knowledge).

Mori didn't seem to be as upset as you thought he would be, though you assumed there was a difference in coping. And soon, just like he did your mother, he spoiled you to no extent. He'd often send you and Elise to shop together with a budget far too high for a "child" and an irresponsible 19-year-old.

He sighed when he saw the receipt, though it was no one's fault but his. You were practically 20, and still spoiled by him. "You are quite lucky I love you, little girl," Mori playfully glares at you as rock back and forth on your heels.

"Mhm! Thank you, Papa!" You hum, pressing a kiss to his cheek, and run off with Elise to out on the outfits you bought.

Just like you skipped away then, you really hope he'll let you skip off this time.

Perhaps it was because of his attitude towards you that you thought you were invincible to his wrath, Mori ponders. His eyes locked on your nervous frame standing at the doorway of the two large doors. Your happy-go-lucky attitude stripped from you in a matter of seconds.

It seemed that you have forgotten he has a meeting this evening.

Without a knock, you burst into the dark meeting room where all of the Port Mafia executives were. You were aware that Mori did something illegal for work even if he constantly made sure you were seperated from that world; however, that didn't stop the surprise you held when weapons were quickly pointed towards you.

The two ginger adults stood, the man with a dark aura surrounding him, the woman with a gift in the shape of a demon woman, a sword in its hand.

"Kōyō, Chūya, you may relax, along with the rest of you," Mori speaks calmly, "This forgetful girl would be my stepdaughter. There will be no animosity towards her."

"Yes, sir," they spoke as Kōyō and Chūya sat down. There was silence in the room, not a sound being heard.

"Papa—" You attempt to speak before he holds a finger to his lips, signaling you to be quiet. You stand timidly in the doorway.

There were only certain situations that you are involved in where his expression is hard to read. He always made sure you could understand him through his expressions. And when you couldn't, that was when you got scared. You gulp, as his eyes harden.

He's thinking of something, probably a punishment, you muse.

Mori hums, making a motion for you to come to him with his finger. "Close the door and come here," you flinch at his tone of voice, but you obediently obey, cringing at the eyes on your back as you stand in front of their boss.

Mori's silent as he looks up at you, only making your nerves worse.

"I told you I had a meeting today," he speaks, "Forget?"

You avoid his gaze at all costs, pursing your lips as you nod. "Yes, sir," you whisper. Mori hums at your words. He snaps his fingers, "Look at me."

Your eyes flicker to his, worry embedded in your expression. "What did I tell you about bursting in like that?" He notices you start to play with your fingers, electing to ignore it. "To knock," you mumble, eyes falling.

"Look, at me," he says sternly, "Speak up."

A whimper leaves your lips at his tone. "To knock," you speak louder. Mori hums, "Did you knock?" You shake your head, "No."

"Mhm," he hums, "Do you know what that means?" The executives lock worried eyes at the display. "Yes," you nod. "Yes, what?" Mori questions. "Yes, papa," you whimper. The man hums, his hands slide up the back of your thighs.

How cute, he thought, conviently wearing a skirt before you get punished. "Pull off your panties," he orders, smiling softly as you obey. "Sir—" one of the executives tries to speak, though he wasn't paying attention to which one it was. "Silence," he interrupts in a whisper, gladly grabbing the panties you just took off.

"Over my leg."

You carefully lay your torso over his thighs, one of your hands gripping his pant leg before he's even done anything. "You know the deal, count. If you mess up, I start over, yes?"

A premature sniff leaves your lips, "Yes, papa."

His hand runs along the underside of your thigh, cupping the flesh of your ass as he pushes your skirt up. A hum leaves his lips when he runs his thumb along the slit of your vulva, "Hmm. Wet already?"

Without warning his hand lifts and strikes the bare skin of your ass. You whimper, body jolting at the action. "O-One," you whisper. His hand smooths along the irritated flesh. "Good," he whispers. You can feel your eyes already swelling with tears from the sting. Shutting your eyes, you desperately hope there's only 10 spanks this time.

You attempt horribly to think about anything other than the many people watching Mori discipline you. There's another harsh smack to your unhurt cheek, throwing you out of your thoughts.

A mix of a howl and a whimper leave your lips out of surprise. "Two!" You whine.

"Good girl," he coos, soothing rubbing his hands on the sore skin. As his thumbs spread your ass he can see the glossy look of slick entangled in the small hairs around your folds. A happy hum leaves his lips before he lands a harsh slap onto your ass, ending your short reprieve. You sniff, tears now spilling from your eyes. "Three," you whisper, a crack in your voice.

His harsh slaps continue, your pathetic voice whispering numbers becoming his favorite sound. "E-Eight," you stutter and moan.

Mori hums, smiling at your sticky eyelashes, the black mascara running down your cheeks. "Oh, shh. No more crying," he whispers as your feel the tips of his fingers ghost along your pussy, "If you had been a good girl, this wouldn't have happened."

"'m sowy, papa," you whine, sniffling on his lap. The man chuckles, "Oh I know you are." He hums, softly rubbing your skin. "Despite my distaste of you getting off to your punishment like a whore...Because you've taken your punishment so well, you get two more. Make sure to count correctly, little girl."

You feverishly nod, a string of 'mhm!'s leaving your lips. You take a deep shaky breath to prepare for the last two strikes, unaware of the growing stiff tension in the room.

The mental preparation for the last two strikes didn't serve any benefits as his hand had moved. Instead of the already sore skin he'd assaulted, the palm of his hand dips between your thighs, landing harsh smack to your pussy. A loud and strangled moan leaves your lips, though to the (unfortunate) observers it sounded more attuned to a scream. "Papa!" You whip your head to look at him wide-eyed in shock.

"What's the number?" He asks, ignoring the expression he knows serves as a question for him to answer. "P-Pa—" he interrupts your words, firmly speaking again, "The number."

You sniff, and lay back on his thighs, "Nine," you whimper. Mori chuckles, "Good." His hands separate your plush thighs that are squeezed together. His eyes take in the twitch of your clit when he spreads your folds, his tongue swipes along his bottom lip as he hears the disgusting and loud squelch paired with the sight of the bubbly, clear liquid spilling from your cunt, and his thumb rubs against the entrance of your vagina, teasing it. "What a cute little thing," he comments, spreading the strings of slick along the curled pubic hair.

When his hand lifts from your skin, you brace yourself for the incoming pain. Your fingers grip his pant leg harshly, teeth clenched around the fabric of his pants aswell; the material stuffed in your mouth, your drool burying itself in the fabric, creating a darker-colored patch.

One of his hands glides down your plump ass, fingers stationing themselves at your folds. Your eyes widen when you realize what's to come, the fabric falling from you mouth to create a desperate plea of "wait!" that was too late as his palm slams down against the bundle of nerves.

A loud and pathetic moan leaves your lips. Mori watches with a smile at your expression; eyes rolled back, toes curled, with your lower half twitching, release coming over you quickly from the stimulation.

Little huffs leave your lips as you cum, feeling his hand delicately rest against the sensitive and puffy area as if he were to collect your release upon his hand.

You soon come down from your high, though your thighs still twitch from your sudden orgasm. Despite the atmosphere, relief washes over you, knowing your punishment was over and he'd hopefully let you leave, though not without embarrassment and shame. You rest your cheek against his thigh, drooling onto the fabric of his pants.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," Mori tuts, sending alarms off in your head. "Did I tell you, you could cum?" Your eyes widen and you lift your head. "And you've ruined my pants. And thought you were finally being good," he shakes his head, "I suppose I'll have to dish out another punishment, hm?" He watches you practically wip your head towards him. His eyebrows raise in amusement as your glossy, wide eyes look up him in a silent plea for a break, to not suffer humiliation any further. There's silence as he looks at your face, seemingly contemplating whether or not he should. There's hope in your chest that he'll let it be until later, though it seems you have terrible luck. Your face drops when laughs at your expression.

"Stand up, sweetheart," he whispers. He clicks in tongue, a "sympathetic" whisper of 'Awww' leaves his lips as he sees your bottom lip tremble.

You stand up like he orders, pressing your thighs together as if it would hide the mess you've made of yourself. Mori remains seated in his chair, though he makes a circle motion with his index finger, signaling you should turn around.

A shaky breath leaves your lips as you turn around, clamping your eyes shut as not to see the looks of his executives. You suck in a breath when you hear him rise from his seat. You feel him press against you, then his hand lightly pushes your head down on the desk. Your teeth catch onto your bottom lip as your feel the stiffness of his crotch against your bare skin. "Breathe, baby," he coos, a light chuckle in his voice as separates your ass, smiling at the glistening of your pussy.

His thumb glides down the slit, "Oh, you look so cute."

A whimper leaves your lips as his index finger teases your entrance before pushing in. "You should be ashamed at how wet you are," he tuts, easily slipping in a second finger. His free hand his planted firmly against the back of your neck. His eyes remain trapped on the way his fingers pump in an out of you.

Your lips fall open as you feel a second orgasm coming, though that feeling stops when he retracts his fingers.

A sharp huff leaves your lips, clearly upset at the constant teasing Mori's doing. His chuckle reverberates throughout the silent yet tense meeting room. "This is why you're in trouble. Your lack of patience," he hums, the feeling of his tip between your folds appears.

Mori grunts when he pushes inside of you. His eyes flutter and his breath stutters at the feeling of you. His violet eyes watch how your eyes close when he pushes in. A thoughtful hum leaves his lips as his hips move in a slow pace to get you used to him. He loves you, even if this was a punishment, he'd never hurt his sweet girl. There's a snap of his fingers next to your ear. "Up, up," he says with a bright smile. "You interrupted their meeting. Look at them, apologize."

Your eyes widen at his words. He coos at the temble of your bottom lip. You sit up and turn your head towards the rest of the table. "I-I'm," you shakily start, eyes flicking anywhere, but the prying eyes of the executives.

And somehow, Mori was able to tell you weren't actually looking.

His hand curls it's fingers into your hair. He directs your head to face the boy ginger, Chūya. "Look at him, apologize."

Chūya gulps, tensing at the sudden attention. He attempts ( horribly ), to ignore the straining against his pants. Sweat rolls down his temple, nails digging sharply into his pants. Your expression only seemed to make his state worse. Mori's pace had increased, the loud and lewd slapping of skin echoed throughout the room. Your face was sinful. Eyes unfocused—almost crossed, tongue lolled, and drool leaking onto the pristine table. "S-Sorry," you whine, though you clearly don't mean it.

Mori yanks onto your hair, the burn of the pull only adding onto the pleasure. "Say it like you mean it. You know his name."

Mori smiles at your pathetic whine. "'M—I'm sorry, Chūya! 'm sorry I ruined your meeting!" You hiccup; Chūya almost cums right there, and that bastard of a boss he has can tell immediately. It's wrong, but he almost creams at the way you say his name, damn that bastard.

"That's my good girl," Mori coos, "One more time. Tell all of them you're sorry."

You feel his hand press against your back, forcing a deeper arch, which only makes his cock feel deeper. "aw, fuck! 'm sorry for— for— for ruining your meeting," you sob as force words from your lips as your glossy eyes looks around the table at the stiff figures of the executives.

"Uh, uh, uh," you whine at each thrust, mumbling "sorry, sorry, sorry," whiner and whiner each time his tip rams into into your g-spot. Your neck feels weak as your head falls onto the table. "Good job," he coos, "That's my girl." The loud squelching of your cunt is music to his ears, the warmth of your walls squeezing around him has his eyes fluttering, a pleased smile appears on his face as you absent-mindedly rock back in time with his thrusts. "That's it, baby. Your doing such a good job," he praises, only making you squeeze harder around his length.

He hisses at how tight you feel, the stimulation driving him to an orgasm. "Papa!" You whine, "Papa!"

"Yes, sweetheart," he whispers, "You can cum. Go ahead."

His words were enough to push you to the edge as your pussy spasms around his cock. A creamy white ring forms at the base of his length as he continues his thrusts, though they get sloppy before they stop completely; his tip nuzzling deep inside of you as he cums.

A satisfied sigh leaves when he pulls out, a light chuckle filling the air as he watches your hips twitch as you come down from your high.

Mori's hands massage your sore ass and his lips kiss the back of your neck. "Mm, you did so good," he whispers. He tucks his softening erection back into his pants before he carefully scoops you up and into his arms. The room is tense, soft grunts coming from some of people in the room, cheeks red with embarrassment and arousal, yet not a word is said from any of the executives.

"Well—! That was a productive meeting, of course we have other things to discuss, but that will have to wait," Mori breaks the silence in the air with a cheerful tone, "Let's finish this next week, yes?"

The others in the room stiffly nod, mumbling, "Yes, sir."

Mori smiles, "Good." With you in his arms he walks out of the meeting room and to his own chambers. "Let's clean you up, hm? I'll even give you a reward for taking your punishment so well. Is that good enough to cheer you up?" He whispers, wiping stray tears from your cheeks.

Both satisfied and embarrassed, you nod agaisnt his shoulder. "Yes," you huff, taking on a bratty tone.

Mori chuckles, "Very well."

FINALLY FINISHED THIS OML, IT TOOK 4EVER. again, don't condone his actions, dis iz fiction.

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lekeyeh24 · 11 months

Note

Hello!!

I was wondering if I could request for earth 42 miles.

I was thinking reader is on miles apartment rooftop alone singing and miles hears her from his window and goes to the rooftop.

(They don’t know eachother)

If you could that would be amazing!!

(Just so you know, I already sent this request to someone else but I would like to see your creativity with this request either way!!)

ofcc thats a good suggestion cus i need yall to request sum ideas im out if them😭😪

EARTH 42 MILES MORALES X FEM READER ONE SHOT.

miles pov

i was walking up to the stairs trying to get away from all the stress i was going through, as i reached the door i heard a voice coming from the other side of the door. Confused and curious about who was singing he quickly and quietly walked on to the platform when the mystery

voice was coming from , it was calm and soothing for him he was relaxed by the voice of the person it nice and a way to take the stress out. when he reached when the voice had came from he was in shock it was a beautiful girl who looked his age who hadn’t seen him yet and was still singing . He was in love with her voice is was so angelic , she had finished singing and it was silent until he said something to the girl

y/ns pov

“I liked your song” said a chilling but calm voice said out of nowhere, it scared you casing you to flinch out of fear but when u realized it was a boy who looked your age you calmed down a little bit but still had your guard up just incase he tried something. “thank you” the boy looked at you and saw that you had gotten up and moved to the edge of the building but not close enough for you to fall “ I didnt mean to scare you I just came up here to get some air” it was silent for a second till the girl said “its fine i came here for the same reason….my name is y/ btw”

“miles, miles morales but you can call me miles” he said with a smile on his face as he was saying his name I analyzed his figure then looked back at his gorgeous eyes they were so beautiful the way he looked and you loved his hair. “nice to meet you miles morales” you said with a smile on your face. After introducing yourselves you both talked abt things and got comfortable and sat next to each other laughing and messing around, miles missed this feeling after his dad died he became depressed and broken and needed time to process what happened happened over the last sad couple of days. but this right here was real he felt good great in fact he opened up to you and told you everything as for you , you as well told his everything. as the day went by it was getting late and you both needed to go back home as you both were walked down the apartment stairwell you were both laughing and enjoying each others company turns out you both live next to wach other. “good night Hermosa thank you for tonight I loved every single second of it I will text you ok.” you blushed at the nickname he had for you “good night miles I loved it to thank you for this” as you both looked into each others eyes he leaned in as well as you did and both connected your lips together it was filled with love and compassion but soon you both had to go back for air, as you both parted away from the kiss he looked at your eyes and smiled . You fluttered your eyes oped and couldn’t help but smile and look down miles had lifted your chin up and said “dont be embarrassed I enjoyed it”

after that he pecked you lips one more time and said goodnight and went in his apartment as well as you did.

‼️I HOPE YALL ENJOYED THIS ALSO I WILL BE MAKING A chapter 1 of enemies to lovers abt earth 42 miles morales it will be posted tmr thank you.‼️

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #ghost spider #miles morales x reader #spider gwen #spider man: across the spider verse

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ghost-bison · 1 year

Text

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR THE TEEN WOLF MOVIE:

Ok so first of all, the Nogitsune's "divine move" didn't make any sense, wtf was that? They broke all the rules. You can't be a fox and a wolf

Then, there's the lousy excuse for Stiles and Lydia breaking up. The hell. I don't even ship them, but like NO. What, it was too hard to say that he was on an important FBI mission? Losers

Liam, Mason, Hikari, Jackson? What were yall doing here? What purpose did you serve my dudes? I freaking love Liam, and I was so excited for Hikari, and then they give us this. They barely even talked.

I was so confused during the entire movie, I didn't know whether or not Chris and Melissa were still a thing??

It wasn't explained properly enough that Malia was actually kind of Eli's aunt/cousin/sibling, like it took me a while to figure out he had grown up in her presence

Btw who tf is Eli's mom??? When they started mentioning Harris I was like oh we're probably gonna see Jennifer again right it's all linked, she came right before the Nogitsune it would make sense that she has something to do with his return and maybe she's also Eli's mom, like it was the most logical explanation if we think of the timeline but no, nope, Eli just doesn't have a mom!

Also what was Harris doing here? And the acting of the guy who plays him was weird (sorry to hate but not sorry it was really bad)

Allison coming back to stay just ruined her previous departure

They should have implied Thiam was a thing not give Liam a f*cking girlfriend

The way Allison came back was laughable

Why did they have to make Malia and Parrish a thing they interacted like twice

The random swearing every five minutes just because they could put it there smh

The way they explained Eli's reluctance to transforming being trauma and then Derek doing just the thing that traumatized Eli in order for him to transform and it working???

I'm so sad and disappointed we didn't see more Malia/Derek interactions it would have been f*king hilarious

Last but not least, Derek. Derek dying, after everything that he'd been through. After all the abuse and years of fighting. They pulled an Enzo St. John fr. Derek dying in the same way his entire family died. Burned alive. And the writers being like "Yeah but look it's okay he became a true alpha" IDGAF. HE PROBABLY DIDN'T GAF EITHER. MY DUDE WANTED TO LIVE. HE WANTED TO RAISE HIS KID. AND THEN HE DIES AND ALLISON AND SCOTT JUST KISS LOVINGLY LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED, LIKE ELI ISN'T CRYING ON THE GROUNG TRAUMATIZED AFTER WATCHING HIS FATHER BURN TO DEATH?!?! Also Malia was the one who had the most appropriate reaction like thank you for being the only one to be shocked and crying, queen. Your cousin deserved better

#teen wolf: the movie #teen wolf movie #teen wolf #derek hale #scott mccall #eli hale #stiles stilinski #malia hale #malia tate #lydia martin #peter hale #chris argent #melissa mccall #allison argent #alan deaton #liam dunbar #theo raeken

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team-avia · 5 months

Note

Spoilers ahead

I GOT THE CULT ENDING

(bless u guide because i would not have made those choices on my own)

istg i screamed giggled cried aaaaaaaaa she can use me as sacrifice any dayyy

i died dead gone buried, this is literally so romantic tho🫶

also not her knowing of my shenanigans with donna

(i lowkey seem to have an issue with possessive women, i should find a therapist but what would be the fun in that)

When i got the cult letter i was like go tell my girlie wife, and then the game was like no my mind was blown, i thought so this is the difference slayy (and then got kidnapped probably drugged murdered and resurrected)

I absolutely love her good ending, but this one gotta be the best ever, not only does it explain everything, but also cult leader miranda is my official religion

i just love the crazy in a way that society should be seriously concerned

AND THE ENDING END!!!!!! literally ended with the beginning at the library i was gagged

cinder, since youre the one responsible for this, i should let u know that i would die for u, just call me up and i'll be there with a sword to defend u too🫡

THANK YOU 🥺🥰 I originally really struggled with how I should end it, but then I realized how obvious it was to manually loop it. (I also knew yall would freak out over it), AND YES CULT MIRANDA IS SO CRAZY AND ATTRACTIVE UGH why can't she be real 😔

🫡 Alright, bestie, I know who I can count on in my time of need.

Cinder

#mail 💌#cindermod🔪#resident lover spoilers #*sniffles* im so glad everybody likes her route #im also glad everyone goes into her routes like “this bitch” and leaves it “aww shes MY bitch” and then gets mad that i made them like her #LMAO makes my day everytime

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iamknicole · 1 month

Text

Chapter Eleven

A/N: I'm on a roll, yall! Enjoy! Please remember to ⭐Comment, reblog & share⭐

Warnings: Slight mentions of abortion, cursing, physical violence. TYPOS. 18+ MINORS DNI

Masterlist

Chapter Ten

Saturday had rolled around quicker than Zilla would have liked. His first go round in therapy was mandated, though he did learn a couple things he didn't take much from it. The therapist they paid him with wasn't a good match and they wouldn't let him swap. But this time his therapist was someone chosen by a loved one. While he trusted Kamille's decision he wondered how this therapist would be. She had told him that he could take Moriah but with everything that's transpired between them, he figured it wouldn't be a good idea to take her.

The suede sofa felt good under him, he rubbed his left hand back and forth on the arm of the sofa. Dr. Barnes sat in the matching chair across from Zilla awaiting the answer to his question.

“If you don't wanna answer, we can circle back to it at the end of the session, Mr. Fatu.”

At the sound of his name, Zilla's eyes moved from the sofa to his new therapist.

“Can you ask it again?”

“Sure,” Dr. Barnes chuckled, “What landed you on my sofa?”

Zilla's eyebrows rose for a second. “You want the long answer or the short answer?”

Again, he chuckled. “For the sake of time, since we have a shorter session today you can go ahead and give me the short version.”

“Short version is Pops died when I was little and I just found out I had a kid, they dead too.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your father and your child. Which one would you like to talk about first, Mr. Fatu?”

Zilla scratched his face, chuckling. “You can call me Zilla, man. You ain’t gotta call me mister. But uuuh I guess Angel.”

Dr. Barnes nodded, giving the younger man his undivided attention. “Zilla it is. Angel is your child, I’m assuming. Boy or girl.”

“Boy.”

“How old?”

He rubbed at his nose, deflating against the suede material. “I guess you could say 12 week or sum’ like that.”

Dr. Barnes studied his reaction with a slight brow raise. “Tell me about the circumstances.”

“Uuh, my girlfriend she found she was pregnant after I got locked up and when she was 12 weeks I think, her mom made her,” he paused rubbing his hands together, “She made her get rid of the baby.”

Dr. Barnes wrote a few things down.

“You said that you are just finding out about his passing so no one told you when it happened. How did that make you feel that no one told you?”

He sat quietly for a few minutes then shrugged. “I mean I was pissed at first that they hid it from me.”

“And now?”

“I get it. They weren’t not tellin’ me at first cause they ain’t know how but they were gonna tell me. Then when that bi–that lady did what she did, they felt like it was Fat place to tell me and she was scared to tell me.”

Dr. Barnes wrote a few things then looked up with a smile on his face. “Fat?”

“Oh, Moriah, that’s my lady.” He informed him with a proud smile on his face. “Wanna see her?”

Dr. Barnes chuckled out his response then sat his notepad aside so he could lean up. He took Zilla’s phone, a smile on his face while he studied it for a moment then gave it back.

“She's beautiful. Who else is in the picture?”

“Thank you. Our niece and my mama,” he said, glancing at the screensaver before putting it away.

“Have you and your mom talked about the circumstances with Angel?”

“Not really no. Like for a second but nothin past that. I wanted Rye to be involved when we talked and she's finally off today.”

Dr. Barnes smiled. “Today is the day then. How does that feel? From the picture it seems you and your mother have a good relationship.”

His smile was back again. “Yeah, we do. It got better when I got out. I feel kinda nervous.”

“Tell me about that.”

“Cause me and Fat talked to each other about it and I talked to one of my brothers but it's different with our parents. Well my mama and her dad.”

“You think you're gonna hear something that might make you emotional or you think she's gonna tell you something that you and Moriah may not already know?”

“Is both a good answer?”

Dr. Barnes leaned up, resting his arms on his thighs. “There's no right or wrong answer. Whatever answer you give is the answer, Zilla.”

He nodded slowly stroking his chin hair. “Then both.”

“It's okay to feel nervous or apprehensive to talk about something as long as you do it. Going through with it is the focus. Make sure you're open to listening to what your mom says and that you get whatever questions out. If you feel like you might forget, type them up on your phone.”

“Yeah … maybe, man.”

Checking his watch, Dr. Barnes steepled his fingers, pointing his index fingers at Zilla. “You almost made it through your first session. How do you feel about making this a regular meet up? I promise if you're not comfortable, I'm okay with that. You can't heal and grow properly if you're not comfortable.”

Zilla thought for a second, making the commitment of talking about his feelings every other week made him nervous. The question echoed in his head a few times then his mind went to his relationship and his family.

“I'm coo’ with that.” He answered with a small smile. “We can do that.”

“Great, great. So I'm going to give you a little homework.” Dr. Barnes chuckled at his frown. “You act like I'm about to assign you geometry homework or something. It's something easy and you don't even have to write anything down.”

Zilla laughed a little sitting back up. “My bad. Homework ain't ever been my thang.”

“Mine either,” he chuckled. “Your homework is for you to plan something for you and Moriah to celebrate Angel. Doesn't have to be extravagant unless you want it to be. Just something. Sound good?”

Zilla scrunched his face a little. “Like something fa kids?”

“Whatever you think is appropriate to celebrate you and Moriah's son. Something that you can look back on and always think of him. Okay?”

“Aight, I can do that.”

“I know you can. I’ll see you in two weeks, can't wait to hear about what you planned.”

After therapy, Zilla stopped by a floral shop and a bakery he passed on the way home. He eased into their apartment, sat her gifts on the coffee table then followed her voice to their bathroom. Moriah rapped along to her music as she finished up her skin care routine, Zilla stood in the doorway watching her with a smile on his face.

“That's yo shit, huh?” He laughed seeing her jump. “How you scary listenin to thug ass music?”

“You're gonna give me a heart attack, Isayah!”

“Naaaah,” he laughed, going to give her a kiss, “You'll be aight.”

Pulling him closer, she kissed him a few more times and hugged him. “Oh whatever. How'd it go?”

“Went good, Auntie picked a good one.”

Moriah clapped excitedly then grabbed one of her moisturizers from the counter. She squeezed a little bit into her hand. “So you're gonna go back then?”

“Yeah, ima go back, Fat.”

“Tell me about it.” She dabbed a bit of the moisturizer onto her fingertips then started to massage it into his face, “Girl or guy? Old or young? Me or them or you?”

He laughed trying to get away from her hands. “Mane, what is you puttin on me?”

“I thought you were losing your thick ass accent but I see it's still there,” she joked. “Moisturizer. Now answer please.”

“I don't need that.” He complained allowing her to continue. “Man, older, you. Aight na, you don't gotta squeeze my cheeks like that.”

She giggled while still doing it. “You squeeze mine and I don't say nothing.”

Grabbing her hips, Zilla pulled her closer to him then slid his hand to her butt and squeezed.

“Cause you like that shit. Duh.”

“Isayah,” she squealed, “Stop that, I'm tryna help you moisturize.”

“I already got my own moisturizer, I don't need that.”

She stared at him. “Boy what moisturizer you got? I have never seen you use moisturizer. I have to put everything on your face.”

“You know what moisturizer I got, Fat.”

“Nope, I don't. Tell me.”

His eyes met hers, glanced down briefly then back up with a smirk on his face. She stared at him for a moment before it hit her.

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“Nasty for no reason.”

“It ain't for no reason,” he laughed, “It's all to make you happy so say thank you.”

Laughing, Moriah stepped away from him to the sink to wash her hands. Not one to be away from her, Zilla moved to stand behind her, staring at her through the mirror. Her eyes met his for a brief moment making her smile.

“Zay,” she called out softly.

He hummed out a response.

“I don't know if you know this but,” she paused to turn the water off and dry her hands, “There's no other place I'd rather be than here with you.”

Her heart swelled watching the tint rise to his cheeks as his smile spread across his face. It wasn't often she was able to make him blush so when she did, she enjoyed it. Pulling her closer once again, Zilla put his face in her neck kissing her there then lifted his head to look at her through the mirror.

“You sure?” He asked softly.

“Of course, I am.”

He kissed her face a few times. “I got you something. Come on.”

Moriah allowed him to lead her out to the gifts. Immediately she went to the flowers, inhaling their scent and gently caressing their petals. Zilla quickly snuck a couple of pictures of her.

“They're so pretty, Zay. I love them. You picked them?”

He scrunched his face playfully. “What I get if I say yes?”

She laughed softly looking over at him. “The same thing you'd get if you had help.”

“Mmm then yeah, I did. I did good? I think I remembered all the ones you like.”

She nodded, moving her eyes back to the flowers. “You did. All that time I thought you weren't listening to me but you were.”

“I tell you all the time, even though I wasn't actin like it all the time, you was and is the most important to me, Fat. I listened to everything you said to me.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, girl. I mean it.”

She tilted her head back and puckered her lips at him. He put a hand on her throat, pecking her lips a few times. They held each other's stare for a moment until she stuck her tongue out at him making him laugh.

“Silly ass, I got you something else. I'm surprised you ain't see it first.”

She frowned a little, turning to look. “Ooooh that's a bakery box. What you get me?”

“Open it and see.”

She eyed him before turning to the box that sat on their coffee table alongside the vase of flowers. She slowly opened it, excitedly wiggling when her eyes landed on the contents.

“I haven't had good red velvet cake since we left Texas, babe. Wait … is it good?”

He sucked his teeth playfully. “I'm not tryna get cussed out about that damn cake, I wouldn't give it to you if it wasn't, Fat. And I damn sure wouldn't have got you a whole cake if it wasn't.”

She laughed. “I cussed you out one time and you won't let it go.”

He stared at her. “Twice. Both times you went on for a hour and a half.”

“Blah, blah,” she said, picking the box up, carrying it to the kitchen, “You want a piece?”

“No and neither do you.”

“Wait, what?”

He chuckled. “You heard me. You not eatin that right now. Close it up and get back over here.”

She pouted. “But why not?”

“Cause I said so. I know you ain't ate no real food so you not eatin no cake right now.”

The following silence made him chuckle. Quietly, he crossed their apartment to the kitchen. He watched her try to quietly cut a piece.

“Moriah,” he called out sternly.

She jumped and pouted. “Just a little piece.”

“What I say?”

Rolling her eyes, Moriah closed the box lying the knife across the top and slid her feet over to him. He kissed her head ignoring her pouting.

“Think you my Daddy,” she mumbled as she walked past him.

He laughed. “I know I am cause you told me. Get in that room so we can call Mama.”

The couple laid across their bed with Moriah's iPad in front of them waiting for Leata to answer their facetime. Zilla bothered Moriah while they waited.

“If you lick my face again, I'm gonna bite you.” She warned.

Zilla paused for a second then laughed as he leaned in to lick up her jaw to her cheek. Grabbing his face, Moriah pulled him closer and bit his cheek just as Leata answered the call. She sat quietly watching them, glad they were in a good place still. Laughing, Zilla pulled away from her grasp and wiped his cheek.

“Don't lick me again, Fatu.” She laughed.

He leaned forward and licked her lips. “You say I don't listen anyway so.”

“Isayah, stoooop.” She laughed, wiping her lips. “You so annoying.”

“But you love me,” he laughed, leaning over to do it again.

“Zilla, what are you doin to her?”

“Making her laugh, Mama.”

“No, you're annoying me,” Moriah corrected, laughing. “Tell him to leave me alone, Ma.”

She chuckled softly. “Behave, Zilla. How are you two?”

“I'm aight. How you?”

“I'm good, son. Rye, how are you?”

“Well,” she said bumping Zilla, “I was good till your son started bothering me. And he wouldn't let me have any of the cake that he got me. He's being annoying and mean.”

Leata looked between the two of them. “Why can't she have cake?”

“Cause big head ain't ate real food since last night.”

“Rye, its what,” she paused to look at the time, “Almost 2 and you haven't eaten yet? You need to eat before all that sweet stuff.”

Moriah pouted. “Yes ma'am but only cause you said it and not him.”

Zilla mushed her head playfully. “Either way you ain't gettin it right now.”

“Alright, are yall ready to talk?” She asked stopping them before they could start arguing. They nodded putting their attention back on her. “Okay so where are we starting?”

Moriah nodded for Zilla to go.

“Um when yall found out Fat was pregnant, did you and her people talk without her?”

“We did. We actually spoke a few times. Rye, you don't know this but Hassan knew before you told him. You said you wanted to tell the two of them at the same time but you and I were going to need him as an ally while you told Nadine.” She explained. “When he got in town, I had him come to the house first so I could talk to him. He understood my point of view and he was glad that I had told him prior to. His main concern was the two of you and the baby.”

“Wow … thank you. I didn't even think about that.” Moriah admitted.

“Of course, manamea. While Rye were in school, the three of us got together to discuss the whole situation. It was made clear that no one was to say anything to you until I figured out how to tell you. Surprisingly enough, Nadine agreed to that but knowing what she did that's probably why.”

Zilla nodded, rubbing over his chin hairs. “Anything else?”

Leata thought for a few seconds. “Just that even though the timing of the pregnancy wasn't ideal, Hassan and I were never mad at you two. A little disappointed but we were honest with ourselves,” she chuckled, “We saw it coming from a mile away. We thought it'd be a little later but we knew.”

Moriah and Zilla looked at each other then back at the screen.

“Knew what, Ma?” She asked with her brow raised.

“That there was gonna be a pregnancy or a scare at some point in high school. We knew it.”

Zilla scrunched his face up. “We wasn't even datin then.”

Again she chuckled. “You two never put a name to it but yall were. You went on dates, you were always cuddled up on my sofa, in your bedroom with the door closed and locked and sneaking out together.”

The couple laughed softly.

“We wasn't doin nothin that most of that time. Not till later.”

“Oh trust me, son.” She laughed. “I know when yall started. I just didn't say anything. You didn't wonder why all of a sudden your brothers were giving you condoms and talking to you?”

Zilla laughed thinking back about it while Moriah sat mortified with small giggles escaping her.

“I'm embarrassed,” she declared. “I told you, Zay.”

He laughed. “You was always scary anyway so I ain't pay you no attention.”

“Any other questions for me?”

Moriah looked to her boyfriend for his response.

“Uuuh … after Fat told you what happened, what did you do?”

“Well first I went to pray,” she chuckled humorlessly, “Because if I didn't, I knew whatever I would've done would not have been good. I consoled and talked to Rye until she had to go back home afterwards I went to my bedroom and I cried. I called Arthur to tell him, he was livid. I had to keep him from going to see Nadine. And then you ended up calling me, Isayah. You usually never called as late as you did but I remember you saying something was telling you to call me so you did.”

Zilla tried hard to remember that call, he could recall certain parts of the conversation but not all of it.

She continued on.

“It was hard to act like everything was okay but I had to because I knew it wasn't my place to tell you. I could assist Rye with it but that was all. Plus telling you while you were in there would not have been good.”

Moriah reached over to wipe the few stray tears from his face. He sniffed a few times.

“I appreciate y'all for carin enough about me not tell tell me then cause I prolly would've got more time. I woulda caused hell in that place.”

“And that's what we didn't want.” Leata said softly.

Zilla leaned over, kissing Moriah's cheek then whispered for her to go ahead. She nodded, starting to play with her fingernails.

“I gotta tell you something else about this whole thing, Ma.”

“I'm listening, Rye. Whatever it is, it's got you nervous. You only do that with your nails when you're nervous.”

She smiled a little, trying to stop clicking her nails. “After everything, I kept asking my mom for information. I wanted to know if she knew the gender and what they did with my baby afterwards. Then finally she told me that she had the gender and she had them cremate the remains. And she said the only way I was getting any of that and my sonograms was under one condition.”

“Which was what?”

Moriah bit her lip, fighting the urge to cry. “I had to get my tubes tied.”

Leata frowned, leaning in a bit closer. “You had to what? Cause I know Nadine did not.”

“I had to get my tubes tied, Ma. I wanted what I had left of my baby so I agreed.”

Leata's face was set in shock on the other side of the facetime. There were so many words that wanted to come out but she was unable to say a thing. Moriah asked Zilla to pass her the baby blue box from his nightstand, when she got it she held it in view for Leata to see. Zilla rubbed soothing circles on her back.

“She just had him in this ugly carton thing so I used the money that my dad had given me for something else to buy him this. He's gone everywhere with me even college,” she chuckled softly.

Trying to process everything, Leata brought her hands to her face for a moment. She allowed her tears to fall freely as she stared at the screen.

“He?”

“Yes ma'am,” Moriah tilted it a bit to show where his name was engraved at the top. “I was having a boy. I named him Angel.”

“Oh, Rye. This just makes what she did that much worse. It wasn't enough that she made you abort Angel but then continued to use him to manipulate you and pretty much take away the chance to have another.”

Zilla and Moriah sat quietly listening to her come to terms with everything.

Leata took slow deep breaths. “That is an evil woman that neither of you need to be around. I know that's your mother, Moriah but you have done all you can do. There is no saving grace for her and you will not give her any. Do you hear me?”

“Yes ma'am.”

“I am so sorry that she did that to you, Rye. If I would've known I would've done something to stop it. Does Hassan know?”

“I know, Ma. No, I never told anyone until now so only you, Zay, my mom and me know.”

She nodded. “Well no one will find out from me, that is your business to tell. I um I need to go. I love the two … the three of you so much. Call me or text me if you need me.”

Zilla noticed the look on his mother's face and got concerned. “You good, Mama? You look pale.”

“I'm okay, I'm okay. Just processing. I'm gonna go.”

Without waiting on them to respond, she disconnected the call. Moriah closed her iPad case then rolled onto her side to look at her boyfriend.

“She is not okay.”

“She ain't,” he agreed. He grabbed his phone sending out a quick text, “I told Arthur to go check on her.”

“She looked pissed. I'm pretty sure if not now, in the next few days she's gonna go see my mom.”

Zilla thought then shrugged. “Nadine need her ass whooped anyway. She get what she get.”

Moriah laughed, “You not wrong but Ma do not need to be doing that. We don't want her to get in any trouble.”

He huffed loudly. “You right but Nadine still need her ass whooped. I guess text Auntie Kami too but that would mean you gotta tell her.”

Moriah tapped on her phone, sighing softly. “The good thing about Auntie Kami is I don't need to tell her right now and even though she'll find out in the midst, I can still talk to her about it later and she'll be okay with it.”

Zilla gently pushed Moriah back, making her lie on her back so he could put his head on her chest. She reached one hand down to rub his head while she continued to text.

“I'm proud of you, Fat.”

“What did I do?”

“Everything. You went through all that plus her basically torturin you till I got out and you stood ya ground. You strong baby.” He praised softly. “You got a good ass heart too. I ain't gon let nobody else play with that shit or you. Zilla got you.”

“And Fat got you. You know I do not play about you.”

He laughed a bit. “Shit, I know. Remember ole girl you beat up at that skate party? Made that girl piss herself.”

Moriah busted out laughing, almost dropping her phone. “I did not.”

“Yeah you did. I remember,” He laughed “I remember cause when you realized it got on your hand, you punched her ass in the mouth.”

“Cause that shit was nasty. If she couldn't hold her bladder she shouldn't have started with you.”

He turned over to look at her, a smile on his face. “I thought you said you ain't do that?”

She stared at him trying not to laugh. “Okay, fine, I did. But in my defense I was only doing what Pops, Ejay, and your cousins taught me to do.”

“They did not tell you to make nobody piss they self, mane. You did that.” He laughed now sitting up.

“They did so. They said make sure whoever I fight is leaking by the end. They never specified what kind of leak.” She shrugged playfully. “Point is, I won, she apologized and never bothered you again.”

He shook his head at her, still laughing. “And that's why I tell people not fuck witchu cause they don't want them problems. And I don't either.”

She swatted at his arm after she put her phone down. “Don't tell people that. They gon think I'm mean.”

He pushed his lips to the side staring at her. “That ain't a secret, Fat. Everybody that know ya ass know you mean as shit. You only nice to your patients, Mama, Hassan, and Toni. And I really don't think you that nice to Toni, I just ain't seen it yet.”

“Aht. I am nice to her. She's not nice to me.”

“Damn,” he called out, “That mean she meaner than you. Yall was meant to be friends.”

Moriah sat up and launched herself at him, he grabbed Angel's box moving it to the nightstand then wrapped his arms around her. He laughed as she landed playful jabs to his torso.

“Since I'm mean, I might as well beat you up then, Fatu.”

“Now you know the only one of us that gets beat up around here is you,” He joked, tickling her sides making her giggle uncontrollably. “Now say sorry.”

“Zay! Zay, stop!” She yelled in between giggles.

He continued his playful assault on her sides through his own laughter. “Say sorry and I stop.”

“Okay! Okay! I'm sorry!” She yelled.

He hummed not stopping. “That ain't enough. Am I your daddy, Fat?”

“Zilla, I gotta pee!” She giggled.

He laughed still tickling her. “Then you better answer me. Am I your daddy?”

She fell over giggling. “Yes! You're my Daddy! Stoooop!”

Laughing, he let her go. He watched her jump off the bed and run into the bathroom closing the door behind her. She yelled from behind the door.

“You get on my nerves, Fatu!”

He grabbed his ringing phone and put it to his ear. “Love you too, Fat! What's up, Jon?”

“The hell is yall doing? Yelling in my ear.” He asked, talking just as loud.

Zilla laughed putting the call on speaker. “Nothin, man. What's up?”

“Checkin to make sure yall still coming this weekend. Trin made me call cause she said if her favorite cousin not here I'm gon be in trouble.”

“Ayyye, I'm the favorite. Tell her we gon be there.”

Jon laughed. “She wasn't talkin about you, man. She was talkin about Moriah.”

He sucked his teeth. “Just for that tell her, I'm comin but Fat stayin home.”

Moriah came out of the bathroom and went back to the bed, leaning against Zilla. “I'm not staying home. If I don't go, you don't go.”

“I can go places without you, big head.”

“You can but you can't go visit them without me.”

He looked down at her. “Why I can't?”

She stared back at him. “Jon gon let you live with him?”

Jon laughed, interrupting them. “Damn, she sound just like Trin. Always tryna put us out over a lil jokey joke.”

“Cause yall not funny.” Moriah fired back playfully. “We'll be there, Jon. And I want the same room, Trin told me it was mine.”

“Lil girl, how you just gon claim stuff in my house?”

“Huh? You said you want me to tell Trin you being mean to me?”

“Maaaan,” he drug out playfully, “Aight fine but you gon tell Sefa why he can't have that room.”

Moriah squealed, “My second favorite Fatu man is gonna be there? Why you didn't tell me before?”

Zilla frowned. “I better be the first favorite.”

She scrunched her face. “Ew, no. Arthur's my first favorite then Sefa.”

“And what number am I?” Jon asked.

“Uuuuh let's see …. There's Arthur, Sefa, Zilla, Jacob, Ejay, you and then Naio.”

“Now wait a damn minute,” Jon called out, “I'm number six! Why am I so low on the list? What I do?”

“And why am I number three?”

“Jon, you're never on my side just like Naio so that's what yall get,” she explained quickly, “And you're number three because Arthur spoils me and Sefa always took my side and the both of them always check on me.”

Both men sucked their teeth.

“Aye, Zay, we gon jump Sefa this weekend. Traitor.”

Zilla laughed. “Hell yeah.”

“But aight then. Text me what snacks and stuff yall want for the weekend so I can add it to the list. Call if yall need anything.”

“Bye number six!” Moriah joked.

Job sucked his teeth. “Just for that, no snacks for you.”

“Bye, man.” Zilla chuckled, ending their call. “Fat?”

“What, big head?”

“I'm really number 3?”

She nodded, smiling. “Yup but you're my number one Fatu in the non platonic way.”

“I'm the only non platonic Fatu you got.”

She huffed playfully. “Boy, just take the number one spot and hush.”

After her shift, Moriah changed out of her work clothes and into her regular clothes then went to the ED to wait on Toni. She watched the older woman check in a second patient in the last ten minutes. Bronco, Zilla and Moriah had finally convinced Toni to come to a show and see him wrestle.

“Nurse Bryant, it's fifteen minutes past your shift.” Moriah called out looking at her watch.

Toni finished up with the patient then turned to her friend. “I couldn't just stop what I was doing, Rye. I'm coming, give me a second.”

“We're gonna be late if you don't come on. We still have to stop by your house to drop off your car and for you to change, go to mine to drop my car off and uber to the show. Bring your butt on.”

The handheld monitor went off again interrupting them. Before Toni could check it, Moriah snatched it and passed it to the nurses relieving her, who had been trying to get it. They had a short conversation then Moriah pulled her friend from behind the nurses station and towards the doors.

“Wait, wait, my purse.” Toni called out trying to go back.

“It's in my bag, let's go. Cause if I miss my man because of you, me and you are gonna need a ref.”

When the friends got to their cars, Thomas was sitting on the hood of Moriah's car. Toni rolled her eyes and Moriah stayed to dig through her purse.

“Why are you sitting on her car? Get off.”

Thomas smiled. “Was just waiting on her. No harm done, Toni.”

“Yet you're still sitting on it,” she clocked with a tilt of her head.

He waved her off putting his focus on Moriah. “Can we talk, Moriah? It won't take but a second.”

“You have until I find what I'm looking for to say whatever it is you wanna say to me and I believe I told you to call me Nurse DeBreaux.”

“I just wanted to tell you that I'll love you and wanna be with you regardless of us being able to have children. We can try and if it doesn't work, we can always adopt. I really want to give us another try, I've matured. I'm not the same person I used to be.”

“Found it,” she announced triumphantly and pulled her pink taser Jacob had given her years ago from her purse. She moved closer to him, putting it near his crutch. “If you ever sit on my car again, call me anything but what I've told you to call me or bring my medical information up again, I won't be the only one who may not have kids. Am I clear?” She pressed the side making it spark for emphasis.

Toni stood back laughing to herself.

He jumped a little. “Whoa, I'm just tryna make amends. It's bad enough you might not have kids, don't want you to be alone on top of it.”

“Why do you assume I'll be alone, Thomas?”

“Look at all the kids in that family. If you can't give him kids, he's not gonna stay when he finds out.”

Moriah chuckled. “Get the hell off my car, Thomas. You got five seconds.”

He jumped off the hood, taking a few steps back. “Just think about it, Mo.”

“You are so lucky I got somewhere to be. Stay away from me and I mean that shit.” After he jogged off, Moriah turned her taser off and threw it back in her purse. She passed Toni her own purse. “I'll follow you to your house. We gotta hurry.”

Forty five minutes later, the friends made it to NXT Arena at Full Sail University. They walked around the backstage area looking for their other halves.

“Haven't you been here before?” Toni asked, looking around.

“Yeah twice but both times he was with me. Let's just ask somebody.” Moriah looked around then spotted what looked like a friendly face. She approached the woman, tapping her shoulder. “Sorry to bother you but we're kinda lost.”

She smiled looking at the two of them. “Well I hope I can help. I'm literally like two almost three weeks in. What are yall looking for?”

“Catering. We're supposed to meet someone there.”

“Now that I can find. Follow me,” she laughed, starting to head in that direction with them. “I'm Gia, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you. I'm Moriah and this is Toni.” Toni gave a polite smile and wave when Gia looked over at her. “What do you do here, Gia?”

“Journalist but in basic terms, I do backstage interviews.”

“Sounds cool. And you don't have to get all sweaty and thrown around so that's good.” Moriah joked, ignoring Toni’s mimicking.

“That's the best part,” Gia agreed, stopping in front of catering, “Do you see who you're looking for?”

Moriah and Toni looked around for a few seconds. Toni nudged her friend's arm and pointed.

“I see them over there.”

“Where?” Moriah asked, frowning.

Toni pointed, “Right there. Left corner. I know you see Bronco's tall ass and Zilla.”

Gia's ears perked up at the mention. “I see them. Come on, I'll walk yall.”

“Uuh, we got it but thank you, Gia.” Toni frowned.

Gia laughed it off. “No worries plus I hadn't had a chance to speak to them today. They're always on the move.”

Gia walked in front of them, leaving the two friend's to exchange looks before following her. Moriah mumbled under her breath a bit.

“Oh my gosh, Zilla! Look who I found wandering around,” she announced putting a hand on his arm.

Moriah didn't miss the grimace on his face as he looked in Gia's direction. He moved her hand then noticed Moriah and Toni. Bronco rolled his eyes accepting Toni's hug. He whispered to her that Gia got on his nerves. Zilla smiled widely at Moriah going to hug her.

“What's up, Fat? What's up, Toni?”

“You didn't tell me your sister and her friend was coming, Zilla. I could've met them at the gate for you since you and Bronco had them wandering around.”

Toni laughed under her breath looking up at Bronco, who rolled his eyes again.

“Sister? Do me and him look alike to you?” Moriah asked, confused.

Gia laughed, clasping her hands in front of her body. “I'm sorry, I was assuming. Cousin then?”

Zilla pulled Moriah into his side, placing a kiss to her temple. “She not my cousin. This my lady, mane. And we got them. We good, Gia.”

“Oooh this is your girlfriend? He really loves you, girl. Every time I talk to him, he mentions you.”

“I wonder why,” Toni mumbled.

Moriah smiled looking between them. “Good to know, Gia.”

Gia patted his chest a few times then let her hand linger there. “He's a tough cookie to crack but I think I'm wearing him down. We're gonna be friends. And don't worry, I'll keep an eye on him for you. These girls around here can be a bit much.”

Before Zilla could, Moriah pushed her hand off of him.

“Yeah I can see that about the girls,” Moriah sassed tilting her head. “Just a little thing to keep in mind about him … he doesn't like to be touched by people he don't know like that and I don't either.”

“Noted, girl. I'll make sure they keep their hands off of my friend.” Gia smiled at Zilla and Bronco then moved to hug Moriah and Toni. “Enjoy the show. Ooh come find me afterwards, we can go get drinks.”

Moriah turned to stare at her boyfriend, who held his hands up.

“Fat, I ain't do shit. She can't take a hint.”

Bronco nodded. “He ain't lying. He literally gives her no indication that it's okay for her to even talk to him and she still do it.”

Moriah folded her arms. “She better learn how to take a hint or she gon have a problem that she don't want. Talking about some damn sister or cousin. She knew I wasn't either one of those.”

“She did,” Toni agreed, “She was trying to be messy.”

“And had the nerve to put her hands all on him like I'm not standing here. She lucky I ain't break her damn hand.”

Toni clapped her hands. “Girl, seriously. She was trying you. Being all bold like, I can imagine what she does when you're not here.”

Moriah groaned inwardly. “And she better hope I don't ever find out cause I will beat her ass and then ima beat his ass.”

“And then ima beat Bronco's ass,” Toni added.

“Wait, I moved her hand just like I do any other time and tell her to stop. Why I'm gettin my ass beat?” Zilla asked.

“Ion even like that girl and I tell her to leave him alone. I shouldn't be gettin my ass beat.” Bronco stressed.

“Just so yall know we not nothing to play with,” Toni explained with finality.

Moriah nodded. “That part.”

“Listen, me and Bronco not worried about that girl. We dodge her ass and whenever she do catch us, we keep it short. Right, B?”

Bronco nodded. “Right.”

“It better stay that way too. I don't mind beating her ass, Isayah.”

Zilla nodded her face then her lips, holding her body against his. “I know you don't. Don't worry about her, she ain't important.”

“Mmhm.”

“Oh! Rye almost tased Thomas’s nuts off.” Toni announced with a chuckle.

Zilla looked at Toni then his girlfriend. “Not that it matter but why?”

“He was sitting his ass on my damn car and was tryna talk to me about being together,” she explained, “Then I told him if he ever sat on my car or brought what he brought up again, I wouldn't be the only one with fertility issues.”

“Good job, sis.” Bronco praised excitedly. “But next time do it. Teach his ass.”

Toni hit his arm, chastising him.

“You know when he work next?”

“Why?” She asked, staring at him.

“Do you know, Fat?”

She nodded slowly. “Yeah, Thursday same time as me.”

“Aight, yall go head to your seats. We'll send somebody to get yall before the show over.” He pulled her closer, kissing her slowly. “I love you, fat head.”

She laughed softly. “Love you more, Fatu. See you later, Bronco.”

Bronco hugged and kissed Toni then smiled at Moriah. “Aight, sis. Yall cheer loud for me and my boy.”

The men watched their girlfriends leave catering before turning to one another. Bronco's smile widened with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“What time I need to be ready Thursday?”

Fortunately for Nadine, Kamille was able to detour Leata for a couple of days. Knowing her sister's work schedule, she invited Nadine to her house Wednesday afternoon for a snack and to talk. Kamille left the detail about Leata coming out to ensure her sister came.

Leata and Kamille had been sitting in her living room since Arthur dropped her off thirty minutes prior. The two waited on Nadine's arrival.

“Which one of your babies was that, that dropped you off?”

“Arthur, my oldest. And he was not happy that I wouldn't let him stay.” She chuckled.

Kamille laughed. “Yeah, he didn't look happy. Rye told me that he's the only brother that knows so I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that he's on the list of people that aren't happy with my sister.”

“He's definitely on that list. I don't blame him … just thinking about it makes me so angry. She was 15 years old, a baby.”

“I've been giving her shit about the way she's been with Moriah for years and she tells me the same thing every time. That she can do what she wants with her child.”

Leata rolled her eyes. “Same crap she's said to me.”

The door opening and closing momentarily ended their conversation. Nadine called out for her sister then followed her voice to the living room. Her smile slowly dropped into a frown as she went to sit on the love seat.

“You didn't tell me there would be a third wheel, little sister.”

Kamille smiled. “Seems like you were the last one here so you're the third wheel, big sister. How are you?”

“I'm well. How are you? Hello, Leata.”

“Same, Nadine.” Kamille answered, nudging Leata.

“Hi, Nadine.” She greeted stiffly.

Nadine hummed at her. “How is your son treating my baby?”

“You would know if she were still talking to you,” Leata chuckled, “He's treating her the way he's always treated her, like a queen.”

“Queen of what? The hood?”

Kamille jumped in to stop them. “Nadine, cut it out. Don't get sassy because you know she's right.”

“Kami, why am I here? I've been working all day and I am too tired for this.”

Girl,” Kamille scoffed, “You worked two hours today, you not tired. Anyway Leata wanted to talk to you and I am here to facilitate. Don't be your usual asshole self either.”

Nadine rested her elbow on the arm rest, moving her attention from her little sister to Leata. “What would you like to talk about, Leata? What can I do for you?”

Leata counted backwards from ten in her head before responding. “I'm just gonna jump right in, I don't have the patience to beat around the bush. You made Moriah get her tubes tied?”

“Yup.” She answered popping the ‘p’. “Anything else?”

“Anything…. Anything else? Are you kidding me? You don't see anything wrong with making a 15 year old girl get her tubes tied? She was a baby, Nadine.”

She smiled at her former friend. “No, I don't see anything wrong with making hard decisions for my child. She was a baby that didn't need to be having babies so I made sure she wouldn't.”

“Birth control was an option, Nadine.”

“Wasn't gonna do what I needed to be done.”

“What if she never able to have kids again? Does that even make you feel a little bad?”

She shook her head, a slight smile on her face. “Knowing that she'll never have a child with that child of yours brings me joy and a sense of accomplishment. And if I'm as lucky as I think I am, he'll break up with her.”

“Nadine, what is your got damn problem with me and my kids? You went from being one of my best friends to my enemy.” Leata yelled while sitting up on the sofa.

“You and your kids are just like that husband of yours.” Nadine yelled standing from the love seat. “I didn't realize it until after his ass killed over.”

Leata stood as well, pointing her finger in Nadine's direction. “You better be careful with the next words that come out of your mouth.”

“Hmm well let me take a second to think about what I wanna say about you, your husband and your kids.” Nadine paused dramatically. “Your husband always had his ass in my family's business, in my husband's ear about this and about that. Thought it was just him but you and your damn kids are the same way. You took your husband's spot in my husband's ear and your kids are in my daughter's ears.”

“Hassan and Moriah know how to make their own choices! We did not make them do anything they didn't wanna do, Nadine!”

Nadine rolled her eyes. “Oh sure. They just happened to make these stupid decisions after talking to one of you Fatus.”

“Oh please, Nadine. I'm glad you think so highly of us that we have that much control but sorry to tell you it's complete bullshit.”

“I'm not my daughter or my husband, I'm not falling for that.” She chuckled. “As bad I felt when your husband died, I was glad cause I thought I was finally getting control back of my family. But then the manipulation and interference didn't stop.”

Kamille stood at that. “Nadine, you're going too far. Stop that.”

“Oh I'm just getting started,” she spat, laughing. “I don't think I'll have to wait that long to get control back and have my baby come home to me. That child of yours is following in his father's footsteps literally so it won't be too long before he joins him. Now that's a funeral I would pay good money to sit front row at.”

Leata's right arm reared back then forward with as much force as she could muster connecting with Nadine's left cheek. There was so much force behind her slap, Nadine lost her balance and hit the floor. She held her cheek, opening and closing her mouth trying to check her jaw. Kamille stepped in front of Leata. Pushing her back gently trying to calm her.

“That was the last time you will ever talk about my kids or my husband! If you ever talk about them again like that it'll be your funeral we're sitting front row for!”

Slowly, Nadine pushed herself up onto the love seat. She heard Leata but the pain in her face and jaw kept her from responding. There was a slight ringing in her ear as well that wouldn't go away.

“Breathe, friend. Breathe. I got her, you go call Arthur.”

Leata glared at her old friend as she left the living room, mumbling to herself. Kamille stared at her big sister wondering how the sister she used to look up to turned into this person. They were fifteen years apart but at 38, Kamille felt like she had much more sense than the 53 year old sitting in front of her today.

“Why would you say that to her? You can't really feel that way, Nadine.”

Nadine winced a bit when she opened her mouth. “You know I don't say things that I don't mean.”

“I don't know that but I do know if you say things to hurt people to get the upper hand. You wished death on her kid. That's not right.”

She chuckled. “What's not right is her family breaking up mine.”

“Their family didn't do a damn thing but love you, Hassan and Moriah. Although it's clear that they wasted their love on you. You and you alone broke up your family.”

“If I didn't know any better I'd swear you were drinking the Kool-Aid too.” Nadine smirked as best she could. “So tell me which Fatu are you sleeping with? Hmm let me guess … Jacob. He was always fond of you.”

Kamille frowned at her big sister. “Me and Jacob are friends, basically family like the rest of them and you know that. You just say anything to avoid accepting fault. Mama didn't raise us like that.”

“How would you know? I was damn near grown when you were born. You don't know shit about how I was raised.”

Kamille sucked her teeth, “I know enough to know that she raised us both the same way. You need to stop this before you get to a point where it can't be fixed.”

“I don't need to do anything but call the police.”

“For what, Nadine?”

“I'm pressing charges. She assaulted me and you witnessed it.”

Kamille shook her head.

“You are absolutely not. If you call them, I'm calling Mama and telling her what you did to Moriah and what you just said to Leata. And I know no matter how old and bitter you are, you do not wanna deal with a pissed off Trenice Parker. Do you?”

Nadine stared at her sister for a few moments then huffed loudly. “Go get me a ice pack, don't just stand there.”

Knowing how her son felt, Leata waited until they got back to her house to tell her how the meet up had gone. He then spent thirty minutes going off about Nadine and debating on going back to Kamille's to finish what his mother had started.

“You know you gotta tell Zay and Rye, right.”

She shook her head. “No, they've already got a lot going on. I'll tell them just not right now.”

“Mama, they need to know now. Especially Rye. This not nothing to keep to ourselves.” Arthur stressed kneeling in front of her while she sat on the sofa. “She better hope I don't see her in public.”

“That right there is why I don't wanna say anything. Your brother is gonna react that same way.”

“And he should, Mama. Her bitter ass wished him dead. You don't say stuff like that.”

She closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. “Okay fine but this is gonna hurt Moriah.”

“Whether you tell her now or later, it's gonna hurt her, Mama.”

Begrudgingly, she facetimed Zilla. A part of her hoped he didn't answer so she had more time. Her hopes were dashed when she saw his smiling face and heard Moriah's voice in the background.

“Aye! Stop hitiin’ me, Mama on the phone and ima tell!” He laughed. “Mama, tell this girl to keep her hand to herself.”

Arthur moved to sit beside Leata, putting his face in the frame.

“What did you do to her, son?”

“I … ow, your lil hands hurt, mane. She offered me cake and now she mad cause I ate it.”

“Nah uhn! I offered him a piece yesterday and he ate another piece today!” Moriah yelled.

“He sorry,” Arthur suggested, “Right, Zay?”

Zilla frowned a bit, pulling Moriah into a loose headlock. “Uhuh, right. My bad, Fat. What yall got going on?”

Arthur put his attention on Leata, silently urging here to go on.

“I wanted to tell you two that I went to Kamille's to talk to Nadine. And it didn't go well.”

Zilla moved him and Moriah to their sofa to sit down. Moriah got comfortable against his chest.

“What happened?” Zilla asked, looking between his mom and brother.

Leata looked at Arthur then back at the screen. “It didn't last long, I'll say that. We got into a spat, she said some ugly things and it escalated.”

“What did she say?” Moriah asked softly.

“I asked her about what she made you do and she said she was proud of it and felt accomplished.”

It was heartbreaking to see the residual joy leave Moriah's eyes. Zilla pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Leata waited for her to respond, when Moriah didn't she continued.

“She also said some things about your father and your brothers but mostly you. Things escalated,” she sighed, “I'm not proud of it but it ended in me slapping her.”

Zilla's brows raised.

“What she say? Had to be bad for you to do that.”

Arthur realized she wasn't going to be able to say it so he stepped in. “She wished death on you, Zay then Mama slapped her.”

Moriah sat up immediately, pushing herself off the sofa but Zilla held onto her waist with one hand.

“Fat, sit down. Come ‘ere, man.”

She shook her head, roughly pulling herself from his grasp. “No, I can't. I can't.”

Leata spoke up. “Let her go, Zilla.”

He huffed watching her walk off to their bedroom. “The hell I do to her for her to say that?”

“I'm telling you that you did nothing to deserve having someone say that about you, Isayah. You could tell that woman to have a good day and she would swear you cursed her. You hear me?”

He nodded starting at the closed bedroom door. “I hear you, Mama.”

“Isayah,” Arthur called out, getting his brother's attention, “Mama told yall that so yall would know what that lady got going on not to cause a setback between the two of you.”

He nodded again.

“Go do what you need to do.”

Zilla disconnected the call as he got up from the sofa. He went to listen at the bedroom door for a moment before going in. Moriah laid with her face in her pillow, crying softly. Going to her side of the bed, Zilla kneeled there and rubbed her back.

“You meltin again, Fat?”

She shook her head, not lifting it from the pillow, followed by a muffled ‘no’. He smiled a little, nudging her over so he could see her face.

“It look like you meltin’, baby.”

“Just a little,” she said softly.

“You don't gotta melt over that. Zilla ain't goin nowhere, Zilla gon stay right here with you to get on your nerves.”

She nodded, sniffling softly. “Promise?”

“Zilla promise. What can I do to make my lady stop meltin?”

“A kiss maybe.”

He chuckled, leaning up to kiss her. “Better?”

“Mmmm … maybe one more.”

He kissed her again. “Now?”

She shrugged. “I kinda feel better. A snuggle would probably make it all the way better.”

“Whenever you ask me to snuggle, you end up tryna do more than snuggle, Fat.” He pointed out getting up from the floor and climbing into the bed behind her. She moved her body back, closer to him. “See? You already startin’.”

She laughed softly. “Just getting comfy. Plus ever since Zilla threw his condoms away, he hasn't wanted to snuggle with me anyway.”

He laughed in her ear. “We both been tired as shit, Fat. My bad.”

“You never cared about me bein tired before.”

“That's cause I wasn't tired.” He kissed her neck a few times. “I promise to snuggle with you next time. Aight?”

“Pinky promise?” Moriah proposed as she lifted her pinky up.

He linked his pinky with hers.

Since they were leaving for Tampa as soon as Moriah's shift ended, Zilla dropped her off at work Thursday morning. She had long forgotten about Zilla's inquiry into Thomas’s work schedule so she didn't question him taking her to work or warn him to not do anything bad. Moriah liking to be thirty minutes early to her shift worked out in his and Bronco's favor seeing as the friends made it to the parking deck minutes before he did. Unbeknownst to him, he parked his Audi between Bronco's truck and Zilla's challenger. When he stepped out of his car, Zilla was standing at the back of his car startling him.

“What's wrong? Why you so jumpy, mane?” Zilla laughed.

Bronco crept up behind him, slamming the driver side door for him. “He act like he seen a ghost or sum.”

Thomas jumped again looking between both men.

“There are cameras in here.”

Zilla looked up at the cameras, smiling even wider. “You mean them right there? I wouldn't count on them workin.”

“Naaah they definitely outta order, my guy. Kinda like yo ass,” Bronco added with a chuckle.

“What do you want? I need to get to work.”

Zilla moved closer to him grabbing his collar to shove him against Bronco's truck.

“Wait, why he not hemmed up against his own car?” Bronco asked, frowning.

Zilla ignored his friend, maintaining eye contact with Thomas. “Moriah told me yo ass still botherin’ her and if it's one thing I can't stand is somebody that don't understand no especially when my lady say it. She asked you one too many times to leave her alone so now I gotta step in.”

Thomas struggled to get out of his grasp but his strength was nothing compared to Zilla's. “It's not that serious. We were just having a conversation.”

“A conversation that she told you she ain't want which mean she said no to your ass.” He spat, pressing his forearm into Thomas’s throat. “This the one and only warnin you get from me. The next time you see me or my boy it won't be to talk.”

Bronco stepped forward and leaned down so they were sure level. “And if you don't keep this lil meeting between us, you'll see us sooner than that. Comprende?”

“Sis! I been missing you!”

As soon as Moriah and Zilla stepped inside the house, Trinity ran to them engulfing Moriah in a tight, bear hug rocking them from side to side. Jon and Zilla watched them with frowns on their faces.

Jon hit his cousin's arm. “Uce! I missed you!” The two of them hugged mocking their women.

Trinity sucked her teeth. “This why you number six. Get on my nerves.”

“They just jealous cause nobody ever misses them.” Moriah rolled her eyes playfully. “Everybody else here or we early?”

“Yall late as hell.” Jon fussed loudly. “Should've took off like uce told you to. Lucky I ain't give ya room away.”

Moriah laid her head on Trinity’s shoulder. “My favorite cousin wouldn't let you do that.”

“And won't. Everybody in the backyard, come on.”

Trinity pulled Moriah along with her while Jon and Zilla followed behind. They talked softly and briefly with each other until they got to the patio. Moriah scanned the backyard, squealing when she spotted Jacob and another cousin on the grill. She ran to jump on his back.

“Jacob! I missed you!”

Laughing, Jacob sat the spatula he was using down and backed away from the grill. “Damn, girl, I missed you too. You almost took us both out.”

She got down, laughing and fixing her shorts. “I haven't seen you in so long. I missed my buddy. I don't have nobody to get on Zay's nerves with.”

“Shit, we got all weekend to make up for lost time, sis.”

“Yall asses is not about to get on my nerves all weekend unless her big head ass wanna get left here with you,” Zilla declared approaching them. He slapped hands with both of his cousins. “Fat, you remember Josh. Right?”

She nodded, moving to hug him. He barely returned the hug but she didn't notice. “Hey Josh. Of course I remember. He's the twin that's not annoying, the good twin.”

Josh nodded his head at her, mumbling out a greeting then turned back to the grill. Jacob noticed how their cousin acted but realized Moriah and Zilla didn't.

“Aye, sis, there go Sefa. Better get to em before mean ass do.”

Zilla frowned playfully. “I'm mean ass? You know her ass meaner than me.”

Moriah stuck her tongue then ran over to Sefa, jumping on him the way she'd jumped on Jacob. Zilla let his cousins know he'd be back after he spoke to Sefa. Turning back to the grill, Jacob nudged his cousin.

“What's up with you?”

“Nun man, I'm cool.”

Jacob started to flip the burgers. “I would believe that if you don't just give that girl the cold shoulder.”

Josh shrugged, focusing on the chicken. “Ion like her. I ain't think he'd stay with her this long.”

“You don't like her? Moriah? Moriah that's been around since they was kids?” Jacob asked with his face screwed up. “Why you ain't like her?”

Josh looked over at Moriah with his family, his lips turning up at the sight of them being happy and friendly with her. “She ain't right for uce. He deserve better.”

“Better than Moriah? She the best thing that ever happened to his mean ass.”

“That's what yall think.”

Jacob scratched his head looking over at his family then back at Josh. “Ion know man. You gon have to explain that one to me later on. But word of advice, chill on the attitude with her, that boy ain't right in the head when it come to her. He protect her heavy.”

Josh waved him off. “We'll see.”

#aao #zilla fatu #zilla & moriah #the samoan dynasty #the bloodline

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