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#this was just me musing about an idea but it reads more like a fanfiction

hd-junglebook · 22 days

Text

The Art & The Muse

Pairing: Luke Hughes x Artist!Reader

a:n currently spiraling at the moment so don't be shocked if I release five more fanfictions that I wrote 30 minutes before posting with no proof reading. lol.

Masterlist Link

Summary: A struggling artist finds inspiration in the most unexpected place - a painting class which the famous Luke Hughes has joined. y/n is in awe at his beauty, finding herself fascinated by his masculine beauty.

Prologue

word count - 1568

Luke let out a deep sigh as he sank back into the worn leather of his favorite chair, relishing the rare luxury of a day off. No early morning practices, no media obligations, no road trips - just him, his apartment in New Jersey, and the peace and quiet he craved.

Well, almost quiet. Luke could hear the muffled sounds of his older brother Jack clattering around in the kitchen, no doubt raiding the fridge for a snack. Luke rolled his eyes and tried to tune it out, savoring the silence. He loved his brother, but sometimes Jack's boundless energy and enthusiasm could be a bit much, especially on a lazy Sunday like today.

As if on cue, Luke heard Jack's familiar voice echoing down the hallway. "Hey, Lukey! Get your butt out here!"

Luke groaned, resigning himself to the inevitable interruption. "What is it, Jack?" he called back, not bothering to move from his comfortable spot.

Jack appeared in the doorway, mouth half-full of what looked like leftover pizza. "Dude, you need to find a hobby or something. All you do is sit around and talk to girls all day."

Luke raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Jack gestured emphatically, spraying crumbs. "Go out and find a girlfriend or something. Do something productive for once!"

"Close the door," Luke said tiredly, waving a hand.

Jack just laughed and turned to leave, still chewing noisily. "Whatever, man. Your life is boring."

Luke waited until he heard the click of the door, then let his head fall back with a groan. Sometimes he wondered how he and Jack could be brothers, let alone teammates. While Luke treasured his rare days off to recharge, Jack always seemed to have boundless energy, constantly looking for the next adventure or party.

A girlfriend, huh? Luke mulled over Jack's words. It wasn't that he was opposed to the idea, exactly. He just hadn't felt that spark with anyone lately. Between his grueling hockey schedule and the demands of his public persona, it was hard enough to find the time and energy for a social life, let alone a serious relationship.

Still, maybe Jack had a point. Luke had been feeling a little...stagnant lately. Perhaps it was time to try something new, step outside his comfort zone a bit. With a decisive nod, Luke reached for his phone.

Luke drummed his fingers against his thigh as he scrolled through the endless list of activities and classes, feeling increasingly discouraged.

His brow furrowed in concentration as he skimmed through the options, mentally crossing each one off as it failed to pique his interest. Maybe Jack was right - he really was in a rut, stuck in the same old routine day after day.

Just as he was about to give up with a heavy sigh, a flash of inspiration caught his eye. An ad for painting classes at a local art studio.

Luke felt a faint tug of nostalgia as he remembered the hours he used to spend painting with his mom back home in Michigan, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as the memories surfaced. It had been years since he'd picked up a brush, but the idea of reconnecting with that creative outlet was strangely appealing.

Intrigued, Luke clicked on the website and started browsing through the class schedules, his blue eyes scanning the page intently. The next session was in just two days - perfect.

Without overthinking it, he quickly signed himself up, a spark of determination lighting in his chest. With a decisive nod, he shut off his phone, feeling a renewed sense of purpose.

With a newfound spring in his step, Luke headed out to the living room where he could hear Jack clattering around. "Hey, Jack?" he called out, drawing his younger brother's attention.

Jack poked his head out from the kitchen, mouth full of what looked like leftover pizza. He quirked an eyebrow curiously, his cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's.

Luke wrinkled his nose in mild disgust at the display, but pressed on. "I, uh, took your advice. I signed up for a painting class that starts in a couple days."

Jack's eyes widened in surprise, a spark of amusement flashing across his features. He let out a bark of laughter, pizza crumbs flying. "Painting? Seriously?" he asked, shaking his head in disbelief.

Luke shrugged, feeling a slight twinge of self-consciousness creep up his spine. "Well, I figured it was worth a shot. Gotta try something new, right?"

"Hey, that's great!" Jack grinned and clapped him on the shoulder, his infectious enthusiasm cutting through Luke's lingering doubts. "Who knows, maybe you'll meet some cute girls there or something."

Luke rolled his eyes, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "That's not really why I'm doing it, Jack."

"Sure, sure." Jack winked and grabbed another slice of pizza, seemingly satisfied with the conversation. "Whatever you say, bro."

Luke shook his head fondly and turned to head back to his room, a newfound spring in his step. Maybe this whole "trying new things" thing wouldn't be so bad after all.

…

Luke pulled his beanie down lower over his sandy blond curls as he stepped out onto the street, trying his best to stay as inconspicuous as possible.

He had thrown on his most unassuming outfit - a simple t-shirt, jeans, and a well-worn pair of sneakers - before hesitantly heading out the door, Jack's cheerful "Good luck!" ringing in his ears.

As Luke made his way down the sidewalk, the nerves started to kick in. What was he doing, really? Signing up for an art class on a whim - it was so unlike him.

The old Luke would have scoffed at the very idea, content to spend his rare days off lounging at home or chatting up pretty girls at the local bars. But that Luke felt stale, stuck in a rut. Maybe it was time to try something new.

Still, Luke couldn't help the self-conscious twinge that made him want to turn right back around and high-tail it home. He could already hear Jack's teasing laughter, the endless ribbing he'd have to endure. But Luke steeled his resolve, forcing his feet to keep moving forward. He'd come this far, might as well see it through.

Luke rounded the corner, nearly colliding with an elderly couple out for an afternoon stroll. "Sorry, excuse me," he murmured, deftly sidestepping them.

The last few minutes of his journey passed in a blur, and before he knew it, Luke found himself standing in front of the art studio, its glass door beckoning him inside.

Taking a deep breath, Luke pushed open the door, immediately greeted by the soothing scent of lavender. His eyes swept over the space, taking in the rows of easels and the vibrant paintings adorning the walls. A petite woman with a thick accent approached him, a warm smile on her face.

"Hello, welcome! Can I help you?"

Luke cleared his throat, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious. "Uh, yeah, hi. I'm Luke - I signed up for the painting class?"

"Ah, yes, of course!" The woman's eyes lit up with recognition. "It's so wonderful to have you join us. I'm Helena, the instructor. Let me show you where you can set up."

As Helena led him over to an open easel, Luke felt a flicker of genuine interest. He followed Helena through the halls of the art studio, he couldn't help but feel a growing sense of intimidation.

The walls were practically bursting with vibrant, expertly-crafted paintings - from sweeping landscapes to intricate still lifes. He found himself glancing around in awe, suddenly self-conscious about his own artistic abilities.

Helena continued to speak animatedly, her hands gesturing as she explained the layout of the classroom and the materials available. Luke nodded along, trying his best to appear engaged, but his attention was diverted the moment they passed by a particularly striking piece.

The painting was dark, with soft whites and deep blues creating a moody, almost mystical atmosphere. But what truly captivated Luke was the subject - a male figure, rendered with such realism and attention to detail that it almost looked like a photograph.

The sculpted planes of his muscular torso, the veins in his hands, the play of light and shadow across his skin - every element was meticulously crafted, drawing the viewer in with its hypnotic allure.

Luke found himself stopping in his tracks, unable to tear his gaze away. It was as if the man in the painting had somehow come to life, his masculine beauty radiating off the canvas.

Helena let out a light laugh, drawing Luke's attention back to her. "I see you've noticed one of our more...popular pieces," she said, a knowing smile playing at her lips.

Luke felt a faint heat creep up the back of his neck, suddenly self-conscious about his obvious fascination. "Uh, yeah, it's...it's really well done," he stammered, clearing his throat.

"Indeed." Helena gestured towards the open doorway of the classroom. "Shall we? The class is about to begin."

Luke nodded, stealing one last glance at the captivating painting before following Helena into the studio. As he took his seat at the easel, he couldn't help but wonder who the artist was behind such a stunning work. And more importantly, would he have the chance to meet them?

…

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jeromeswife · 1 year

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yandere namor x f!reader | super psycho love - part 3

Masterlist

Word count: 983

Summary: Namor does not want you to leave.

Warnings: depressing topics, stockholm syndrome, reader is very empathetic but naive, if you do not like fanfictions like these, do not read them

Translations:

in reina - my queen

Damn, if you didn't want me back Why'd you have to act like that? It's confusing to the core 'Cause I know you want it

The herb Namor fed (Y/N) made her pass out. But he couldn’t lie about how much he enjoyed seeing her all vulnerable. Even when she had been asleep earlier, he was hesitant; should he watch her sleep? Should he dress her in royal attire? After all, she was going to be his queen due to the changes. Namor fully intended on entirely making her unable to breathe out of water.

But she was special. And he knew in his heart that he was right. But the fact that (Y/N) was still potentially able to escape to the surface world made his veins pop out of his skin from frustration. Namor’s plan had not gone as he thought it would.

Namor’s hand slightly skimmed across her cheeks, feeling the soft (S/C) color beneath it. He especially loved feeling even more of the slight bumps along it. He wasn’t too fond of the idea of perfect skin like surface dwellers went on about. People aren’t meant to be perfect, which is why he hated the modern dwellers.

When Namor was bored from his royal duties, he would sometimes pop out from the surface and watched the people who spent time on the beach. Namor would frown when they started saying terrible things about themselves. No one in Talokan did it. He would never encourage that behavior anyways.

(Y/N)’s eyes slowly opened after a while and her eyes were too tired to care about what was going on. Namor was still letting his fingers dance across her skin and watching her every move. She just didn’t understand why someone as royal as him would care for her.

“In reina, it is good to see you awaken after your transformation.”

Her breath hitched in her throat as her hands felt all over her skin, feeling slight opens that were mini gills, yet still able to breathe in the air. (Y/N) couldn’t help but notice how piercing his eyes were. The way Namor’s eyes looked into her soul was like he understood cogs turning inside her head. It was magical.

His hand inched towards hers and held it. It was one of warmth but possessiveness. He was glad to have her here with him. That way no one could harm a single hair on (Y/N)’s head.

Her hand slightly pulled away from his hold. She was scared of Namor. And why wouldn’t she? He kidnapped her, essentially changed her whole body against her will, and won’t let her leave. Essentially changing her life as she knew it!

“I wish to go back home.”

Namor grunted and his other hand clenched into a fist out of anger. A spit of fire lit inside him when (Y/N) wouldn’t do what he wanted. A part of him liked how headstrong she was, but he just wanted her to submit her all to him. And he was gonna get her to do it no matter what.

“You cannot leave. Please, see my kingdom before coming to such a conclusion.”

“This isn’t where I’m supposed to be! God, can you listen to me!? Or are you so arrogant that you believe I want what you want!”

Namor went silent before getting up, grabbing a bracelet that was built of gold and jade. He presented it to her, seeming to bargain his muse. Anything for (Y/N). Anything. He gently grasped her arm and tied the bracelet around her wrist, loose enough to not cause redness in her skin.

“It was my mother's. She gave it to me before she passed. There was no one I loved as much as I loved her.”

(Y/N)’s heart tugged. Oh no. It was working on her.

“Your.. mother?” she asked, gazing at the jewelry adorning her wrist that complimented her (S/C) skin.

Namor nodded and let his finger stroke over the smooth jade, “She died of heartbreak. She missed her life on land. Just couldn’t bare to live here underwater anymore.”

(Y/N) noticed the way his brown eyes seemed to cloud with the memories of his past of long ago. She wished she could look inside him to see what he had seen; to understand him. She knew that this wasn’t an appropriate response to someone who had stripped her of the life she once knew, but she’d always been empathetic. She understood that Namor must have been alone for a while. He just wanted company. Peace. Love.

(Y/N) didn’t know what to do in response to such news. But she reacted as how she’d want if she told such a sad secret to someone.

Namor was surprised when he felt (Y/N)’s arms wrap around his waist. His cheeks grew warm and his mind raced. He fell in love with how warm and comforting she was pressed up against his bare chest, the way their skin exchanged heat. He never wanted this moment to end nor did he ever realize how much he wanted to experience this. Namor never received a hug except if it was one from his mother. For the first time in 500 years, he had felt an act of love and intimacy.

“I’m sorry, Namor. I will cherish this as long as I am... With you.”

It was a surprise to her that she’d even say that. Well, you can always expect the unexpected when you’re taken away by a king from under the sea, right?

(Y/N) broke the hug and stood up, extending her arm out to Namor, “Please, take me to see your city. I would love to see it.”

Namor’s hand hesitated before wrapping around hers, pulling her close, “Of course, in yakunaj.”

Then they disappeared into the abyss of the water that was on the edge of the cave. He never let go of (Y/N) on the trip down to Talokan.

#namor x reader #namor x you #namor x y/n #namor the sub mariner #namor #kukulkan #yandere #yandere namor #dark namor #tenoch huerta #black panther #black panther wakanda forever #namor fanfiction

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poppitron360 · 9 days

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I have a big big deadline coming up at work, and it’s been really stressing me out. However, instead of focusing on that (which is what I should be doing), my stupid, dopamine-chasing brain has been thinking about nothing but this singular piece of Valgrace fanfiction I’ve been working on for the past two weeks.

A lot of you requested to be tagged in it once it was finished so you could read it, based on this post that I made about it. So anyway:

@moonssong @lavenderfairiez @huntingrays @hazellevessque @onion-dishwasher @the-aro-ace-of-spades

Here you are. Go nuts.

Concept: Leo goes back to Texas after the War to get some closure on that miserable chapter of his life. Jason decides to tag along, but little does he know that this trip’s real purpose is to do more than just tie up loose ends…

CWs: Swearing, blood, lack of smut (they are teenagers)

I tried to write it so that it could be interpreted as a friendship thing if that’s what you want (although there is a lot of Staring Deeply Into Leo’s Sad Brown Eyes, and Holding Him Tightly In Jason’s Big Strong Arms). But no actual kissing or anything. I think “wanting to be there for someone” is a universal thing, so I tried to make it up to interpretation.

This is also FUCKING LONG (as this has been my main form of procrastination for the past two weeks), so you have been warned. Final Word Count: 5,934!

Valgrace Fanfiction: “Are you sure you wanna do this?”

Not sure on the name tbh. Lmk if you have any better ideas.

Leo took the window seat and Jason sat next to him. Jason watched as Leo leaned his head against the window of the bus and closed his eyes, breathing softly, his curly hair vibrating against the glass. There was no cheeky grin on his face. No playful twinkle in his eye.

“You look tired,” Jason mused.

Leo nodded, not opening his eyes, and breathed out almost inaudibly through his parted lips, the vapour from his breath making a circle of mist on the window. He looked utterly dejected. Jason examined his best friend’s features, taking in his sunken cheekbones, his pointed nose, his dirt-covered face. Only now did he realise how thin Leo was- his clothes hung loosely around his body, cinched in by his tool-belt and suspenders, but even those seemed disproportionately loose on his tiny frame. His arms and hands were bony, and covered in scars. Jason’s body was pushed up against Leo’s on the cramped bus seat, and he could feel the bones of Leo’s emaciated ribcage pressing against his side. He thought he truly saw for the first time that kid who had run away so many times, who grew up on the streets. He wondered how Leo had survived all those years alone- demigods weren’t supposed to make it on their own past thirteen, but Leo had been completely by himself for seven years. Jason couldn’t think what that might’ve done to him. What he’d been through. Leo never talked about the foster homes much, but Jason got the sense they had been rough- he had mentioned once about sleeping in a sewer. Jason studied the scars on Leo’s arm. He had scars too, they all did. But Leo’s seemed to tell a different story, more bleak and depressing, like he hadn’t always been able to fight back. There was nothing funny about that, Jason decided.

He reached out, and brushed a strand of curly hair away from Leo’s face. He didn’t flinch at the touch, and Jason wondered if he might be asleep, but soon he felt Leo’s hands slip into his, his bony fingers were gentle and warm to the touch- as if to say “I’m here. I’m okay.” His skin was rough and calloused, but Jason didn’t mind their lack of softness. He cupped Leo’s tiny hand in both of his own, as if to respond “I’m here too. It’s okay.” Leo’s fingers were completely covered by Jason’s big palms, and they wriggled against his skin, tapping out a strange arhymic pattern. Jason figured it was morse code, but he couldn’t translate it. He recognised the pattern as the same one Leo was always tapping out with those restless fingers.

“I can feel everything,” Leo whispered, weakly. His eyes were still closed. His voice was low and hollow and raspy, like it had lost all of its brightness. Something about the way he spoke had changed too- his vowels dragged out longer, his consonants became softer, more rounded. Jason could hear the warm tones of a hispanic accent seeping through, like Leo was too tired to hide it anymore.

“What?”

“The bus. I can feel all the machinery beneath us- the axels and pistons and gears and motors- it’s clouding my brain. No way I can sleep,” He explained.

Jason listened to the low hum of the bus engine as it bounced along the winding road. He imagined it must be a hundred times louder for Leo, who could sense every single moving part. He squeezed his hand sympathetically. No wonder Leo had trouble focusing all the time.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Jason asked.

Leo shook his head, his head still resting against the glass.

“Just promise me we’ll find a place to stop and rest soon,” He said.

Jason rubbed a thumb over the back of Leo’s warm hand. “Okay,” He assured him.

Leo nodded, softly.

They sat in silence, Jason watching Leo breathing. His brow would furrow with soft despair when the bus sped up, like the movement caused him pain. His breathing was shallow and weak, and Jason could feel his lungs expanding and retracting underneath his skin. Eventually, Jason rested his head on Leo’s bony shoulder and closed his eyes. His shoulder-blade was digging into his cheek uncomfortably, and the dirt and grime on Leo’s face was rubbing into his hair, but he didn’t mind. He breathed in Leo’s warm smell. He smelled like smoke. Woodsmoke, like a campfire. He smelled like the metallic aroma of rust and motor oil. It wasn’t usually a pleasant smell, but it smelled good on Leo. Just like the hardness of his rough skin felt good brushing gently against Jason’s palms. Everything about Leo was coarse and rough and dirtied, reflecting the gritty hardness of the forges and workshops he’d grown up with and surrounded himself with. Despite being so small and weak, Leo was by no means soft or delicate. Jason thought again about that little boy, skin and bones, growing up orphaned and alone. While Camp Jupiter had never really been caring or familial, it had still been there for Jason when he needed it. He’d always had safety, food, friends, a place to stay. Leo had had none of that. Suddenly, Jason felt a surge of protectiveness. He wasn’t gonna let Leo go through that anymore. He was gonna make sure Leo was safe, that he had food, friends, a place to stay. Yeah, you’re doing great at that so far, Jason thought, but he pushed the feeling down.

He leaned in closer to Leo and whispered in his ear.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?”

“Jason…” Leo whispered in return, “You know you didn’t have to come with me.”

“We’ve had this conversation, Leo. You shouldn’t have to be here alone.”

Leo tilted his head so that it rested against Jason’s instead of the window. He was silent for a long time.

“I… I’m glad you’re here, Jason.”

He really did sound tired.

Jason absent-mindedly traced the lines of Leo’s palm with his fingers. He heard the tires hiss and he sat up. They had arrived.

Huston bus station was about as grimy as Leo’s workshop, but with none of the charm or magic of it. It had low plasticky ceilings stained nicotine yellow, the grout in the cracks of the tile floor were peeling and cracking. Jason did his best to avoid a mysterious stain that looked suspiciously like blood, as Leo led him through the jostling crowd, pulling him by the arm. Once they were out onto the street, Jason nudged Leo’s shoulder to tell him to stop.

“Let’s find a hotel. I promised you we’d get you a place to sleep. We’ll talk game plan in the morning.”

It was hard to tell with the hot Texas sun beating down on them, but it was getting late.

“Yeah… I guess taking a sightseeing tour of the locations of the most traumatic moments of my life can wait until morning.”

The next morning came, heralded by the autumn sun.

“Can I just get these, please?” Leo handed the gum and the 6-pack of water to the man behind the kiosk. The tiny newsagent’s shop was empty except for them and a guy in the corner, looking at the chips.

“Hey, don’t I know you?” The shopkeeper asked.

Leo looked around nervously, “No, I don’t think so, partner. You might be thinking of that guy in the movies- Antonio Banderas. I’m told we look a lot alike.”

“No…” the guy said, squinting at Leo, “Wait- you’re that Valdez boy!”

A look panic flashed across Leo’s face, but he tried to keep his cool.

“Nah, man, you’ve got the wrong guy-“

“No- it is you. Boy, you’ve got guts showing your face here again. The police came ‘round asking questions ‘bout you, y’know? From what I heard, you burned down your mom’s machine shop and ran away. I’ve got half a mind to call the cops on you right now-”

He reached for the phone.

“No! Look- I don’t want any trouble, okay? Can we just buy these and go?” Leo’s eyes were pleading and desperate.

“You’ve got three seconds to leave my shop before I call the cops.”

“But-“

“GET OUTTA HERE, FREAK!!”

Leo ran. Jason ran after him, but not before turning and flashing his best raised-by-wolves death-glare at the shopkeeper.

“Hey-“ Jason said, finally catching up with him three streets away. Leo was a fast runner. “You okay? What that guy said-“

“It’s fine!” Leo said, his voice high-pitched and a little hysterical, “No big deal, just… no gum. That’s fine.”

Jason put a hand on Leo’s shoulder. He made his voice low and gentle, “Leo… this must be really hard for you. Talk to me.”

Leo shook his head, “We have to keep moving. Aunt Rosa’s house is this way.”

Leo led Jason through the busy Huston streets, twisting down roads and sidewalks. Suddenly, he turned a corner and stopped dead in his tracks so fast, Jason nearly ran into him. He was staring at a large brick building on the corner of the street. The sign above it read “Bookstore”.

“They… they rebuilt it…” Leo said.

Jason realised what he was talking about.

“This was your mom’s machine shop?”

“I c-can’t believe they rebuilt it…”

“Leo… it did burn down nine years ago,” Jason told him. Then, realising that that was probably not the best thing to say, he added, “I know this is hard. Do you need a minute?” After all, Leo had grown up here. Seeing his childhood home not only burned to the ground but rebuilt, totally erasing those moments, must’ve been torture.

Jason squeezed Leo’s arm comfortingly. Leo nodded, “Yeah… thanks,” he whispered.

Jason kept a respectful distance as Leo walked up to the building. He watched as Leo pressed his forehead against the bricks, his calloused hands gently caressing the stone, as if trying to remember the way it used to feel. He saw his fingers tapping out that message he always tapped. He saw Leo’s mouth moving, whispering silently to the building. After a while, he began to approach Leo, but then hesitated when he saw the tears in his eyes. But now, he was close enough to hear him. Leo was humming, softly. A sweet, lilting melody. He hadn’t noticed Jason was standing there. Jason watched as Leo drew a shaky breath, and began to sing.

Jason didn’t understand the words- they were in Spanish- but he could hear the roundness of the syllables, the way the vowels and consonants danced up and down, in and out. He couldn’t believe how right it felt, hearing Leo speak the language. Leo had a weird way of talking- the sentences would stop and start in jagged spikes, gliding rapidly right over full stops, and pausing right in the middle, like his brain was moving a thousand times faster than his mouth. His words felt odd and out of place. But now… Jason realised this was the first time he’d heard Leo speak Spanish at length- more than just a few phrases, under-the-breath insults, and frustrated cursing. He felt bad, eavesdropping on him when he clearly was never comfortable enough to speak the language around Jason, but man… it was beautiful. The sound of his voice was enthralling- tendrils of words wrapping around his chest and arms, softly caressing his skin. Jason felt warm inside, like he had just drunk a cup of hot chocolate on a freezing winter’s day. He wondered if Leo’s song had some sort of fire magic in it, filling him with comfort and homeliness, and a memory came back to him. Him and Thalia sitting at the hearth on Christmas day, watching the flames dance as they toasted marshmallows. The feeling didn’t flicker and die when Leo finished his song, either. Jason stood there, stunned as the last few notes hung in the air.

“Woah, Leo…”

Leo tuned, startled, snapping out of his trance. Something flashed in his eyes- Panic? Fear? Jason felt guilty. Leo was having a private moment, and he was intruding.

“H-how long have you been standing there?“ He asked.

“Just a few minutes. Leo, that was beautiful. Where did you learn-“

“A lullaby. My mom used to…” he trailed off, and looked at the building. Then, wiping his tear-stained eyes with the back of his sleeve, he said, “Look, can we go now?”

They stood at the bottom of the steps leading up to the door of Leo’s Aunt’s apartment. Jason rubbed Leo’s back, reassuringly.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asked.

“You keep asking me that!” Leo complained, but his eyes shifted nervously and his fingers restlessly picked at the skin around his thumb. Jason grabbed his hand and squeezed it- “I’m here.”

Leo’s big brown eyes looked into Jason’s. He looked grateful for his company. Then, he let his hand drop as he walked up the steps and knocked on the door.

An old woman answered. She had Leo’s curly hair and dark skin, but unlike Leo, she was ugly. In a sort of cinderella-ugly-step-sister way. Her nose was hooked and pointed. Her mouth snarled and her eyes squinted into wrinkled crows-feet.

“Uhh… hey, Aunt Rosa,” Leo said, wringing his hands, nervously.

“Well, look who decided to come back,” the old witch sneered, “you’ve got guts, boy.”

She spat out the word “boy” like Leo was some sort of vermin. Jason felt anger bubbling up inside of him.

“Look, I just wanna talk. Maybe apologise? I’ve done a lot of thinking-“

Leo was cut short when the old crone started howling with laughter.

“What makes you think I’d give any attention to you, after what you did, Diablo?”

Leo took a step back, fear and hurt flashing in his busy eyes.

“It- it was an accident-“

Jason had been keeping his distance up until now, but he moved closer to Leo and put a hand on his back, staring at the woman defensively.

“Look, lady, Leo and I… we came all this way so that he could do what he needed to do to make things right. Do you know how much guts it takes to want to apologise and make amends, especially after how you treated him? Leo’s doing something brave here, and you should at least hear him out, you owe your sister that much.”

The old lady scoffed, and barked something to Leo accusatorially in Spanish. Leo backed away again, fearfully, mumbling a response. Jason only became angrier. He hated seeing Leo like this.

“Leo doesn’t owe you any sort apology whatsoever,” Jason growled, “And yet he’s still offering one. Even though it wasn’t his fault. Even though you treated him like shit!”

“Hey, Jason, maybe we should go-“

Jason looked in Leo’s eyes and mouthed, “Do you want to leave?”

Leo nodded, “Jason, please…” he whispered.

Jason hated seeing Leo so afraid and helpless. With one last glowering look at Leo’s Aunt Rosa, he guided Leo away.

“Freak! Diablo!” Rosa called, “Worthless, Satan Spawn, good-for-nothing-“

She didn’t have time to finish the insult. With one swift motion, Jason spun around and punched her square in her ugly face. She crumpled to the floor, moaning.

“Leo Valdez is fucking amazing,” Jason said, standing over the old woman, “You are fucking blessed to even be associated with him. You have no right to treat him the way you did. You know that it wasn’t his fault what happened, but you made him think that it was. You’re a fucking disgrace. Now, I wholeheartedly think that Leo should not apologise to you. But if that’s what he needs to do,” he looked over at Leo, and smiled, then looked back at the old crone, “then you’re gonna fucking hear him out, okay?”

She nodded, still rolling on the floor. Leo walked over and stood by Jason. He didn’t help her up.

“Aunt Rosa,” he said, and then paused for a moment, looking at Jason, and then looking back down, “Fuck you.”

Jason patted him on the back, and they walked away together. As they got further and further down the street, Leo stated sobbing.

“Oh, hey, no, it’s okay…” Jason assured him, “Sorry, did I-“

“You were great,” Leo said, “It’s just…”

He hugged his shoulders. Jason walked in front of him and grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop.

“Hey. Look at me. Don’t let what she said get to you, okay? She’s not worth it.”

Leo chucked, but the laugh turned into more sobs.

“Hey… hey… that was really brave, what you did.”

Leo dug his fingernails into his arm. He was hugging his right forearm close to his chest, hiding his scars from Jason that he knew for a fact were there. Jason wondered once again where they had come from. What their story was. But he didn’t dare ask. He pulled Leo into a hug, right there in the middle of that busy Texas street. Fragile, and shaking, Leo was a mess. But Jason held him, and stroked his hair, and whispered soft words of comfort.

“I don’t know what she has against Spawns of Satan,” Leo said eventually, “Nico and Hazel are lovely. It’s not really an insult.”

And there it was. The jokes. Leo took a deep breath, and Jason could practically see the mask come up. It had slipped away for those few moments while Jason held him, and he had caught a glimpse of that vulnerable, scared little eight-year-old boy. But now his defences were up. He had let Jason in for just a second, and Jason wanted so desperately to be let in again. To get to know the real Leo. To be able to comfort that little boy, maybe even help heal him. Bandage his bleeding scars.

“Next stop,” Leo said, “Mom.”

The cemetery was beautiful. Peach trees lined the gravel pathway, rustling in the late autumn breeze. Jason watched Leo closely as he walked down the path, scanning for the gravestone he wanted. Leo’s dark brown eyes caught the low light of the evening street-lamps. They reminded Jason those bugs stuck in amber you could buy in museum gift shops. He felt in danger of becoming like one of them, perpetually lost in that deep liquid gold. He could swim in them for eternity, preserved in beautiful stillness for all time. If those dark irises dared lock themselves on his, they would pull him under, and he would be trapped forever in perfect torture.

Leo turned a corner and trekked down a well-trodden path in the grass. He wove through the headstones until he found the one he needed.

Jason stood behind him, tapping his own fingers nervously on the back of his other hand. He realised he was copying Leo’s rhythm- he’d committed it to memory without even learning what it meant.

He watched as Leo knelt down by the headstone. The engraving on the headstone read “Esperanza Valdez, beloved daughter, wonderful sister. You will be missed.”

Jason noticed with another surge of anger that the epitaph did not say “mother”. Leo had been cast out by his family, and the hard work and sacrifices his mom had made to raise him weren’t even recognised on her gravestone.

“H-hey, mom…” Leo said, trying to keep a cheery note in his voice, “How’s it going? Good? Good.”

He kept talking to the stone, commenting on small things like the weather, how his day had been, what he had for breakfast (he’d lied and said oatmeal, but Jason knew he hadn’t eaten anything that morning). Jason could see he was desperately trying to keep it together, not wanting to let his walls down again. Eventually, Leo turned to him.

“Hey man, there’s something I gotta do. Alone. Can you just maybe… I dunno… wander ‘round the shops for a bit? I’ll come find you once I’m done.”

His eyes were dull and unsaturated in the cold light of the evening. He looked at the headstone with something other than just grief- purpose. But not the twinkle Jason saw when he had an idea for an invention. A sort of quiet resolve. It was unsettling.

Jason didn’t want to leave Leo on his own. He moved closer, reached up, and touched Leo’s face. He took off Leo’s mask, and looked at the broken boy behind it.

“I… I…”

Suddenly, Leo crumpled to the ground, sobbing. Jason caught him. He held Leo’s trembling arms in his firm grip. The underside of his arms were covered in a patchwork of faded scars. Jason caught another glimpse of that boy- the runaway, helpless and alone. He imagined those scars freshly bleeding, no-one there to clean the cut or dry his tears. It was that boy that stood in front of him. That boy that crumpled to the floor sobbing at Jason’s feet, as he held his arms tightly in his strong grip.

“I’m sorry…” The boy said, his voice small.

Jason crouched down, letting go of one of the arms and putting a hand under his chin, forcing him to look up. His big brown eyes were watery with tears, filled with sorrow and remorse and fear.

“The… the reason you came here,” Jason said, slowly, “Was not to visit your Aunt Rosa, was it?”

Leo didn’t meet his gaze. Jason’s hand dropped from holding his chin, and Leo looked down at his hands, one still clutched in Jason’s own.

“A ritual…” Leo said, “I found it in a book at Camp… I… I could fix my mistakes.”

“By bringing your mom back?” Jason guessed.

Leo shook his head, “My mom’s gone. Nothing’s gonna bring her back… but I’d be able to get rid of the thing that killed her.”

Jason grabbed Leo’s shaking shoulders, his grip firm, yet gentle. He touched Leo’s cheek with his other hand, his fingers lightly grazing his skin, hurriedly trying to commit it to memory.

“Leo, you mean you’re gonna-“

Leo shook his head. “Not that. My powers,” he explained, “If I give them up, I might be able to reconcile for what I did. I could be at peace.”

He looked up at Jason, his eyes so full of anguish and hurt it made Jason’s heart break.

“I never lied to you, Jason. I did come here to get closure.”

Jason held Leo’s tiny, shaking body against his.

“Leo, it wasn’t your fault, okay? You have to believe me when I tell you it wasn’t your fault.”

“I lost everything in that fire, Jason. These powers have cost me so much.”

“Leo, please believe me,” Jason begged, “You don’t deserve to hurt yourself like this.”

Leo didn’t respond. Jason realised that he was afraid. Afraid of himself. Afraid of hurting others. Afraid of his power, despite all the good it had done, despite all the times it had saved Jason’s life. Leo only ever saw all the bad it did. Why couldn’t Leo would see himself the way Jason saw him- brave and good and kind? Then he remembered Aunt Rosa- the way Leo had backed away from her, afraid and guilty. The way she had reduced Leo to a small-voiced child with just a fierce glance. Jason couldn’t even imagine what it must’ve been like having her as your only family. He figured the foster homes hadn’t been much kinder to Leo, judging by the assortment of scars across his skin. And the shopkeeper- how Leo’s eyes were desperate and panicked, how he had ran from that place, how the man had yelled at him so fiercely. If Leo’s powers were responsible for doing all that to him, Jason didn’t blame him for wanting to get rid of them. Jason did want to get rid of them- nothing that hurts Leo like that should ever be allowed to continue existing.

He hugged Leo tighter.

“You know I can’t let you do this, Leo. It’s dangerous. I mean, if it’s never been done before… what kind of side effects might it have? Will it just get rid of your fire or your other abilities as well?”

Leo shook his head, “I’m still a son of Hephaestus. That would never change. But the gift… curse… whatever he gave me- that’ll be gone. It’s served its purpose now, so The Fates will allow it. But I can be a normal demigod.”

Jason was pretty sure the words “normal” and “demigod” had never been used side-by-side before.

“Leo, these powers have saved my life so many times. All of our lives. You can’t just… by letting them go, you’d be erasing all the good that you’ve done. Please, try to see my point of view. I don’t want you to do something you’d regret.”

“It’s my decision, Jason. My whole life, I’ve wished I’d never gotten these powers. I don’t care if I can use them to help people- I don’t want to risk hurting anyone else,” Leo looked down at the gravestone.

Jason remembered the warmth Leo had filled him with when he had sung his mom’s lullaby. The joy and happiness he had felt. That wasn’t bad. That couldn’t have been bad.

“Leo, you can’t do this.”

“You’re not changing my mind, Jason.”

And Jason knew he was right.

“If this is what you need to do, Leo…” he whispered, softly, “Then I’m not gonna stop you. But there are better ways. You don’t have to do this.”

“But I do. You don’t understand, Jason. You never knew your mom. I had something, and then it was taken away as a result of my own mistakes. That’s worse than never having had it in the first place.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Jason snapped, “Leo, I get it. You’re hurting. And I want to be here for you. I really do. This whole trip-“

He stopped and took a deep breath.

“This whole trip, I’ve been trying to make myself a safe space for you to open up to me. For you to let down those walls, let me in, let me see you,” he took Leo’s hands in his, “Because what I want more than anything right now, is to see you, Leo. The real you. Behind the jokes, and the smiles, and the “everything is fines”. I can’t bear to stand by and watch you do something I know you’d regret, but if this is what it takes to gain your trust, then I’d do it. For you.”

He knew this wasn’t right. He knew Leo was making a really bad choice, and Jason saw no future where he didn’t live to regret it. Leo would not be at peace. He would still be weak and afraid, just now he would also be powerless. But he knew he couldn’t stop Leo. And he couldn’t let him do it alone, he just couldn’t. Leo had been alone his whole life, and Jason couldn’t abandon him when Leo needed him most. And Jason wanted to be with him. Be there for him. He wanted to see that little boy again. But it shouldn’t be about what he wanted. Deep down, Jason knew he was being selfish.

With shaking hands, Leo reached into his backpack and brought out a thick leather-bound book. Jason recognised it as the kind of thing they kept on the bookshelf of the Athena cabin. Leo opened the tome, and flicked through until he found the page he needed. His dark eyes scanned the instructions, then he reached into his backpack again and brought out a knife and a vial of glowing red liquid, and set them both on the grass in front of him.

“Leo…” Jason said, looking at the knife.

“It needs my blood for the ritual, Jason,” Leo said.

“So, you’re really going through with this?” Jason asked, not meeting those eyes of amber.

Leo didn’t answer right away, just studied the book, knife, and vial in front of him. He studied his mother’s grave, tracing the name “Esperanza” with his eyes.

“I… I don’t…”

Jason put a hand on Leo’s cheek, forcing him to look his way.

“Leo, it’s okay.”

Leo tried to hold the glass vial steady to drink it, but his hands were shaking too much. Jason gently took it from his grasp, and held it up to Leo’s lips. This is a bad idea, he thought, but it’s for Leo. It’s what he wants. Jason poured the weird red stuff into Leo’s mouth, and Leo did his best to swallow it down. He shivered.

Leo sat back on his knees, facing the gravestone. He took the knife in shaking hands and dragged it across his palm. He whimpered in pain as the blood seeped out of the cut and down his wrists. He collapsed on the ground, his hands out in front of him, digging his fingers into the dirt. Jason watched as, sobbing, Leo read aloud the words from the book. Jason didn’t understand Ancient Greek, but he got the gist. This was some serious magic going on. Leo screwed his eyes up in painful concentration, repeating the chant over and over. His fingers dug deeper into the ground, and his hands caught fire. Jason took a step back as the fire grew. Leo cried out.

But then, the fire sank back to a flicker, then it was gone. Where it had been, tendrils of red, orange, and gold light were coming from Leo’s fingers like tree roots, spreading into the dirt. They wrapped around his mother’s headstone- making it look overgrown with flame-coloured vines. The light glowed brighter and brighter, and as it did, Leo’s breathing got shallower and weaker. Eventually, the light became so blinding white that Jason had to avert his eyes. Then he heard a grunt, and the sound of a body hitting the soft dirt. Jason turned and saw Leo lying on the ground, shivering. He ran over and scooped him up in his arms. Leo’s skin was cold to the touch- colder than Jason had ever felt on Leo before. His cut hand was stained with grass and mud.

“Leo!” Jason called.

He didn’t answer. He was unconscious. Leo inhaled, shakily, and his breath was sharp and painful. Jason could only hold him.

Eventually, Leo opened his eyes.

“J-Jason?” He said, weakly.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked.

“Are… are people this cold usually?”

Jason laughed. He couldn’t help himself. He hugged Leo tighter.

“Did it work?” Jason asked, after a minute.

Leo shakily got to his feet. Jason kept a hand on his waist to steady him. Leo held out his hand, and closed his eyes in concentration. Nothing happened.

“It worked,” he said. He wasn’t smiling. Jason realised that Leo didn’t want to lose the powers either, but was doing it because he thought it was for the best.

Leo fished a cigarette lighter out of his tool belt. He flicked on the flame, and held it underneath his palm. Jason grabbed Leo’s wrist and yanked it away from the fire.

“Careful,” Jason said, “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“I’d prefer to find out if I’m still fireproof or not now, rather than in a life-or-death situation,” Leo reasoned. He moved to put the lighter under his hand again. Jason didn’t stop him, but he wasn’t happy about it. Leo gasped in pain as the flame blistered his skin. He yelped and dropped the lighter. Luckily, the flame went out before it hit the grass. Leo nursed his burned hand.

“Ouch,” he said, “That… that was…”

Jason knew what Leo must’ve been feeling. He had never been burned before. He had gotten a taste for the first time of how his mom must’ve felt in her final moments. That tiny burn on his hand adding to the many, many scars.

Leo was shivering. “Seriously, why is it so cold?” He said. Jason wrapped his arms around him, still getting used to Leo’s newfound lack of radiator-ness. For once, Leo had to depend on Jason for warmth. Only now, did it occur to Jason the gravity of what they’d done. Leo would never summon another fireball to save Jason from certain death. Jason would never roast a marshmallow over his best friend’s head again. He no longer had an excuse to cuddle up next to him on cold winter nights (not that he wanted to cuddle Leo for any reason other than for warmth). Jason would never watch in awe as Leo stoked the forges with his bare hands. Leo was normal now, but was normal necessarily better? Jason had never thought so, but then again, he had always been revered- held aloft on a golden shield, praised as a leader- for the abilities he had inherited.

Jason knew about the bullying at Camp. After Leo had revealed his powers to Cabin 9, the rumours had spread like, well, fire. His siblings had been supportive, but the other cabins not as much. Jason knew Leo hated the looks he’d get at mealtimes, so much that he often hid in Bunker 9 to work on the Argo II. He’d get nasty comments, people calling him a freak and an arsonist, and he’d tried to downplay how much it had affected him, but Jason knew. The worst were the fights. Leo just curled up on the ground and lay there while the other campers pummelled him. Jason had begged him to fight back, he knew Leo could hold his own, but Leo had just looked down sadly, and said, “I can’t fight back. I don’t want to let myself go. I don’t wish the fate of my mother on anyone, even those fuckers.”

No. Normal was better for Leo. Safer.

“Let’s go,” Leo said.

“Back to the hotel?”

“No. Bus station. I’ve got what I came for now. I don’t ever wanna see this place again.”

He turned to the gravestone, and traced his mother’s name with his fingers, ‘Bye, Mom.”

Leo took the window seat on the bus ride back to camp. He did not rest his head on Jason’s. He did not hold his hand. He just sat, looking sadly out the window as the entire state of Texas passed by them.

“Can I ask you something?” Jason said.

“You just did,” Leo replied.

“Why Huston? I mean, I thought you told yourself you’d never go back there.”

“The ritual required a place that was meaningful to the person performing it.”

He didn’t offer any other explanation, and Jason decided not to push it.

“Jason… can you not tell the others what happened here? They’d freak. I just… I can’t deal with having to explain my choices to them. Not right now.”

Jason hesitated for a moment, but then said, “Of course, Leo.”

Leo still wasn’t meeting his gaze.

“It’s funny…” Jason said, “We started this chapter of our lives on a bus. We’re ending it on a bus…”

Leo began to cry.

“Oh… oh no, sorry, Leo, I didn’t-“

Leo hid his face in his hands. Jason tried to touch his shoulder, but Leo shrugged him off. They stayed like that- Jason helpless as Leo sobbed.

Jason had tried to get closer to Leo. He had tried to see through that mask. He had hoped that letting Leo do what he needed to do might make Leo let him in. But Leo still pushed him away. He might always push him away. Leo rubbed his eyes with the heal of his hand, and resumed looking out the window.

And a little part of Jason died inside.

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accidentalshifter · 3 months

Text

Vampire Diaries/Originals-verse [Dawn Misplaced] DR:

⚜️ TW: My Mikaelsons are a ✨️ problem ✨️ and how they behave (or don't) will probably be unpredictable. Blood, sex, death, abuse, violence, & dark themes. I don't condone any of their actions, I'm just documenting them for science.

*Some things from previous posts might be reiterated upon in this one. Y'all this is super TLDR, be warned.

It's impossible to talk about this DR without talking about the unfinished fanfiction that sprang into my brain last year and refused to die; "Dawn Misplaced". After watching half a season of the Originals & relating heavily to the Mikaelson's generational trauma/cycles, this plot bunny appeared, assuring me that I should totally sin against the canon & create an alternate universe before I watched all of the source material...

So, William Webb and his adopted daughter Zoey St. Claire (Webb) was born. My OC had so much of myself inside of her that she was technically a self-insert or in shifting theory, a DR self. And William, now that I think hard about it, is probably a representation of my own generational trauma that I saw playing out in the show. Ahh, apologies for reading too much into that. Anyways!

Keep in mind that I had only watched season one and two of the Originals (and half of the first season of Vampire Diaries) before Zoey self-insert brain rot took full effect. Little did I know that many of my plot ideas for Dawn Misplaced ended up being explored by TVD in season three/four via Alaric Saltzman and The 5. (It was a trip watching those episodes for the first time recently with a friend) Like Alaric, William was a vampire hunter forced into action by tragedy & succumbed to the dark obsession inside of him that urged him to kill vampires at all costs. There's only one real difference between Alaric and William's slaying methods; killing innocent kids. Alaric at least had some sort reasonable criteria for who he'd murder. William Webb, on the other hand, was willing to slaughter a whole damn orphanage if it meant putting a stake in the vampire menace forever.

Zoey St. Claire was one of the seven children who managed to survive William's slaughter. Although, he insists it was a "necessary evil" for his experiment to work. You see, he'd run across a very old book that his ancestor, Will Webb (the first) had written, documenting a ritual meant to create a super slayer. A living weapon. Just as strong, fast, invulnerable to compulsion, and able to withstand a beating from a vampire. But was more intended for the sole purpose of killing The Originals. Yes, my DR self is fighting her intense instinct to murder her neighbors. (Are you getting that FNAF vibe? William Webb=TVD Purple Guy).

Basically, it's the Missing Children Incident all over again.

My super slayer idea was real close if not the same as "The Five." Of course, I'll never know because all Dawn Misplaced ended up being was this:

As I mentioned in previous posts, the waking dreams started with that simple plot bunny and did not stop. Growing a life all their own despite my best efforts to starve it, uproot it, and purge it from my memories. I've written other fanfics before, abandoning them when I eventually lost my muse, but this one? Like a vampire, refuses to die.

Half a year is a long ass time to keep having intrusive minishifts, so. My friend in fandom crime suggested I should give into my delulu and start yanking back on the tugs. Even if it is just all in my head.

Now, I'm not new to shifting practices. Since my childhood days locked in a bedroom, I've been super good at dissociating & exploring different realities within my dreamworld. But that's just it isn't it? This DR isn't really mine. Sure, the Dawn Misplaced elements of it are. Will and Zoey are. The rest of it, though? It's built upon a foundation I didn't lay. It's a sum total of the books, the TV series, & all of the dreamers who've dreamt of the Mikaelsons. Of course it's resistant to scripting and has a life of its own. I'm only one singular drop in a pond.

It's like...

So, while I can't control what the characters will do or the scenarios that'll unfold once I begin shifting to [Dawn Misplaced DR], I can control how I choose to react. I'll have to be more cunning than the plot. The only thing I seem to do okay with is "I'm back in my CR" and (recently) which location I get dropped into. Mystic Falls or The French Quarter. Idk, maybe I'm just a bad shifter even if I've been doing it for a while...

I'm going to have to be more stubborn than the sum total of the fandom itself.

*Using the Taglock Method has been helping me somewhat in focusing.

However, here's the scripts that I HOPE I can get to work:

⚜️ While in DR, I share the strengths & skills of Zoey St. Claire (Webb) as a slayer.

⚜️ Using Taglock Method bound to an epoxy ring I wear both in my CR and DR, I can eject myself from the DR when taking off the ring and enter it when wearing the ring. (This one seems to work)

⚜️ All houses owned by William Webb are a safe spot. (This one should work because it cooperates with TVD/Originals canon)

⚜️ Retain memories of CR self while in DR. (As long as I'm doing awake daydreaming, I seem to be able to do that)

...And what about an s/o, you say? 🫠 I think I've got bigger fish to fry. I'm not going to try and force anything to happen if it even does. After all, I'm no Elena Gilbert! Trying to date in the "real world" is already hard enough...

Additional BONUS LORE for DM that may or may not become relevant because my DR is an unruly child and it was only just ideas I'd casually thrown around in my brain for the fanfic:

⚜️ William Webb (the first) was an exorcist priest for the Vatican. His journals document the various "demonic spirits" he expelled and eventually spiraled into unhinged ranting. On the surface, at least. William Webb (the later) was able to decipher the super slayer ritual from these journals with the help of a witch probably.

⚜️ Either William Webb (the first or the later) was ex-communicated by the church for his inappropriate use of witchcraft against "the demonic spirits." He's become a boogeyman (much like Mikael) with a bad reputation that has preceded him and casts a shadow on all the Webbs.

⚜️ TVD/Originals seems to have werewolves and vampires, vengeful ghosts, witches, and hybrids. Along with doppelgangers & magic miracle babies. But what I noticed it doesn't have is angels. The seedling concept for my DR's super slayers are humans possessed by the blood & flesh of the archangel they were forced by William Webb to eat. Kind of have a zombie vibe to them, huh??? Can you tell I probably have religious trauma, LOL?

⚜️ William Webb's descendants eventually made their way to the new world during the time the Originals were in New Orleans and mingled within the same circles. The Webbs later settled down in Mystic Falls working as textile merchants of European fashions. You kinda gotta do what you can when you stop benefiting from the Roman Catholic church.

⚜️ While not technically a "founding family," the Webbs do possess a spot on the Mystic Falls council. For once, the shadow of their ancestor's legend pays off big time for them. Especially in a town plagued by real "demonic spirits." Originally, I thought the Webbs were ex-communicated from the town council but my first controlled shift (yesterday) into my DR revealed that wasn't the case. See what I mean by the DR choosing which bonus lore it wants to validate?

⚜️ In TVD/Originals it's mentioned that each and every supernatural creature in Universe must have a set of strengths/weaknesses. I had originally planned that my super slayers were disabled by sulfur, solar eclipses, and had a tendency to "go corrupt" if they broke an angelic virtue. However, what an angelic virtue is is open to interpretation. It likely is similar to what Dark!Alaric was.

⚜️ Elijah Mikaelson and a descendant of Will Webb knew each other. Elijah was interested in the journals of William Webb (the first) for whatever reason. Intrigue, maybe? Or maybe something more serious than that...

⚜️ The most recent William Webb (the later) hid his super slayer project from the Mystic Falls council. The majority of them, at least. I'm almost certain that if he told anybody at all, it was probably John Gilbert. Hell, given John's attitude and medical knowledge, he might've been in on it with William.

⚜️ William Webb (the later) raised the seven surviving kids to be hunting machines. Zoey is the last one standing who didn't corrupt & chose to turn her back on William at the age of 15, emancipating herself (legally) as soon as she could to live a "normal life." D.M. was going to take place after William's untimely death where Zoey St. Claire must return to Mystic Falls to settle her father's accounts and do something with the property she has now inherited.

⚜️ Zoey has vague, fleeting memories of her childhood in Mystic Falls. She (alongside her 6 other "siblings") only experienced a couple of years living there "peacefully" in the Webb estate before William took them on the road to hunt. Zoey was homeschooled much like the Umbrella Academy kids. It's nebulous at best whether Zoey (or the 6 other kids) ever met Elena in their childhood much less any other character living in Mystic Falls.

⚜️ Unlike her six siblings, Zoey never took to slaying vampires half as fervently as William wanted her to and rejected his doctrine soon after witnessing the corruption of the eldest of her siblings during a vampire hunt. Being a deserter earned her no points from Will or the rest of the Webb family. She is now more likely to sympathize with vampires than side with hunters despite her awkward position of being the last remaining Webb, having to be present for council meetings for as long as she is stuck in Mystic Falls settling Will's legal accounts, estates, & the things he left her in his will.

Some last, finalizing thoughts on this TLDR, DR Intro before I start actually documenting my shifts...

In my last post, I said it was all real. Shifting is real and it's really happening. Somewhere. And that somewhere is inside of me as well as outside of me as an objective reality all its own. Theoretically.

I wanna add a "yes, and" to this theory for the preservation of what little sanity I have left...

Yes, it's all real. And I'm pretty sure the thing that forged this pull, this...link...to the TVD & Originals-verse was/is my shitty childhood. I see a lot of my own family trauma inside the story of the Mikaelsons and the Salvatores. I think that by exploring this link and allowing it to show me things, the adventure I plan to embark on might give me an opportunity to reflect on my wounds. Maybe even heal...

If it's all real, then confronting my DR-self's trauma could help me find closure with my CR-self's trauma as well. And if I get to have anything from this experience, I'd like it to be healing.

It's a good thing I'm a vampire slayer then, right?

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thebestofoneshots · 10 months

Note

✩ Star :

very funny/makes jokes, sarcastic, can be closed off but only about backstory, sweet, can be cute but mainly sarcastic

slim with freckles on my back, 5’6-5’7ish [people putting they’re elbows on my shoulders like they’re a table or stand is shockingly hot okay 😭], short black hair, shockingly blue eyes that are apparently pretty

writing [fanfiction omfg], reading [romance novels]

open to polyamorous relationships

If you want to participate in "TBOS' 400 Followers Celebration" too, you can look at this post for all the options of prompts you can choose from <3

I ship you with Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. You have been friends with the boys since you started Hogwarts. You really enjoy hanging out with them, and they equally enjoy your company, especially because they find you absolutely hilarious, yet also very small? Sirius used to say you were like an evil squirrel, too cute to pose a threat, but with claws sharp enough to blind someone.

"Hey Moons," you said one day while chilling with him, both of you engrossed in reading your respective books, both of your feet rested on the boy's lap. Sirius lounged nearby, lost in his music.

"Yes, dove?"

"What do you think about poly relationships?"

"Poly… what?!" Remus asked, confused, peering up from his book.

Sirius laughed from the side, “Means you’re dating more than one person at the same time. Of course everyone is aware of it,” he explained. "Why the sudden interest, Fluffs?"

Sirius had playfully given you the nickname shortly after likening you to a squirrel. Originally it had been "Flufftail," but he thought it sounded to much like Wormtail and he didn’t want to aoscieate you with him, so he switched it to Fluffs.

"Oh, it's just this book," you said, indicating the one you held, "It's about a poly relationship. Seemed like an intriguing conversation starter."

"Well, I'd give it a shot," Sirius chimed in.

"Shocking!" you teased.

"Only with the right people, though."

"I've seen you hook up with plenty of girls, what do you mean 'the right people'?"

"Hooking up isn't the same as having a relationship, Fluffs. You'd know if you tried," he said, smirking and gesturing for you to come closer with a suggestive smile. Instead, you threw a pillow at his face.

"I guess I’d have to test it to give my opinion," Remus replied with a nonchalant shrug, returning to his book.

"I guess it's the same for me," you mused.

Suddenly, Sirius had an idea, a metaphorical lightbulb illuminating his brain. "Let's do it!"

"Do what?" you asked, perplexed.

"Let's test it, the three of us."

"Like a throuple?" you questioned with a slight frown.

"Exactly, a throuple!" he affirmed. "We'd be exclusive with each other and see how it goes."

"For how long?" you inquired, setting aside your book.

"Three months."

"You won't last three months without hooking up with someone."

"What do you mean without hooking up? I'd have both Remus and you! I could kiss your pretty faces whenever I want. Sounds perfect to me."

"Now you're just trying to charm me into it."

"And is it working?"

"A little," you admitted, smiling. "What about you, Remus?"

"Count me in," the boy responded, a playful smirk gracing his lips.

Long story short, those three moths extended into six, and those 6 into a year, and eventually you all decided that you'd just stay together, you just didn't want to go back to how things were before. Becasue this, this was perfect.

A/N: Hope you like this darling, I had lot's of fun writting it!

Sending you great vibes, Lilly xxx

MASTERLIST

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kyberblade · 11 months

Text

Back To You (Din x Reader) - Part 18

A/N: I banged this out in about a week, folks. It just flowed. I honestly did not expect it to be this long, but as the rest of this series has gone, I had an idea, sat down, and like 85,000 other things happened, too. We have so much going on, action, adventure, romance, drama, Mayfeld…. ✨ This was so fun to write, you have no idea. Based on a poll, the people have spoken. One massive chapter. (Aka: Back by popular demand: my Din Rot. 🧟‍♀️) Our poor reader is going through it, folks. Through. It. But we see here there’s always light at the end of the tunnel, if only we’re willing to take a look around and find it. (And having a shiny Mandalorian to point it out helps.) 😌 (Also, once again, there is some lore in this that @writerlyhabits wrote in a fantastic short, and I loved it so much, I asked if I could use it.)

(This takes place right where the other one left off and goes to the end of episode 2x7/15, The Believer.)

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, * and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Typical show violence. Swearing. Space swearing. Grogu is a menace. * * (I’ll remove these warnings when hell has frozen over bc idk what you’re talking about, Grogu is perfectly safe and totally not with Gideon right now, what do you mean? 😬) Arguing? Mando’a. Show dialogue, so spoilers? (But if you’re here, you know how this works.) Lots of angst. Tears.

Word count: 23,774 (I said what I said. We are IN IT. BOOM.)

As always, thanks to @grippingbeskar for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.

And for @fordo-kixed-rex, you deserve so much more than a shoutout for reading all 75 million iterations of this massive chapter from start to finish, and helping me in between. You’re a real one, friend. This series would not have gotten this far without you.

Also thanks @what-the-heckin-heck for helping me try to find a place to break this into two parts, and @littlemissmanga for reading over part of it for me! And @deceiver-of-gods for helping me with the Mando’a!

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

Xxx

“And then you’ll need to-”

“I’ve got it, I’ve got it,” Cara cut Din off, ignoring his huff of annoyance. “I have a little more going on up here than you give me credit for, shiny.” Gesturing to her head with a grin, she just continued to stare at Din as he met her gaze in silence, the two trading an unspoken vow.

Finally Cara turned to you. “You, however, need to come with me.”

“What?”

“I need muscle.”

“Then send him.” You pointed at Din. “Guy sees me being the strong arm he’s just going to laugh.”

“You have no idea how scary you can be, do you?” Cara mused. You cocked a brow. “Just ask him.” She tilted her head toward Din.

You scoffed. “That doesn’t count.”

“No?”

“No! We’re a clan, family, togeth-” you cleared your throat. “He is just afraid of me on instinct now.”

Despite clearly being something, there hadn’t been time for you and Din to sit down and have any sort of discussion about what exactly you were to each other. You didn’t want to assume, but it seemed pretty clear where things were left. Regardless, saying it openly in front of other people before saying it in front of the person who needed to hear it first seemed in poor taste, so when you stumbled over ‘together’ and caught Din’s amused head tilt, you rolled your eyes.

“Mesh’la, the reason Gideon still has a bounty on you isn’t because of your connection to me, although I’m sure it doesn’t help. It’s because he’s afraid of you.”

“Why would he be afraid of me?”

“Oh, maybe because every time hunters get close, they get dead.”

You simply blinked at Din for a moment before your eyes darted back over to Cara, flitting between the two as you began to protest again. “No, he’s-”

Cara leveled you with a look.

Looking to the side, glaring at nothing in particular, you groaned. “Okay, fine. I’ll go.” You turned your glower on Cara. “Just stop with this whole judgyness thing.”

She got to her feet with a smirk. “Only if you two stop with the whole, ‘I’m an idiot’ thing.”

Din stopped you at the top of the ramp down onto the planet, piles of scrap as far as you could see. The giant creature-like machines similar to what had lifted the Crest out of the water on Trask lifting junk high overhead. The memory of those days made you smile sadly before turning your attention to Din. “If he tries anything….”

You scoffed. “Cara’s right there, Din. And you’re here. I’ll be fine.”

He huffed. “No. I was gonna say, punch him. Drop him. I don’t care. Don’t kill him, but….” You chuckled softly. “Whatever he tries, you do it first.”

“Do it first, but don’t kill him. Got it.” You nodded once. “But what if he tries to kill me?”

Din sighed. “Make it hurt. I’ll make him regret it after he wakes up.”

A mischievous grin turned up the side of your face, Din’s helmet tilting to the side playfully. “I can get on board with that.”

Following Cara down the ramp, Din went back into the ship.

“You’ll have to remove your weapons,” a guard droid buzzed monotonously.

“That’s not likely to happen,” you said lowly, a quiet laugh painting your tone.

“You’ll have to remove your weapons,” it repeated. “Prisoners could grab them and start a riot.”

“You have a weapon,” you pointed out, gesturing to its baton.

“Per code seventy five, sub section two, paragraph three of the New Republic’s prison charter, I am-”

“She’s a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of her religion.” Din’s modulated voice behind you caught you off guard.

She’s a Mandalorian. She’s a Mandalorian. She’s a Mandalorian. She’s a Mandalorian. She’s a Mandalorian.

It echoed in your head as everything else seemed to stop. Were you really? Did Din really mean that? Or was he just saying that to try and get you out of a sticky situation?

No. No, he didn’t throw around mention of the Creed lightly. It was sacred to him. Special. The code by which he lived his life and how he’d grown up. He wouldn’t just throw that around for the sake of a droid.

Glancing over at him, it was as if he could read your mind, and you supposed it must have been clearly written all over your face, because he gave you a single nod that you understood. You’d seen it a million times before. Learning to read the man under the beskar had been priority number one since coming onto the Crest…. Oh, who were you kidding. Since the day he walked into your bar.

He called you Mandalorian.

The droid’s head swiveled his direction. “That is not part of code seventy five, sub section two, paragraph three of the New Republic’s prison charter. In fact, I do not know of any rule that-”

“It’s fine, Mando.” Walking up the ramp toward him, you unfastened your belt, handing it to him. “Rules are rules.” Slipping your blaster with the mudhorn on it out of the holster slyly, you winked at him. “Keep these safe for me.” Turning back toward Cara and the droid, making sure to keep the blaster behind your back and out of sight, you tucked it into the back of your pants quickly, adjusting your top to cover it as you went back down the ramp. “Let’s go.”

Cara glanced at your belt dangling in Din’s hand, the smallest smile twitching up her cheek before her face fell flat again. She turned, beginning down the aisle between piles of junk, and you stayed a few paces behind her as she followed after the guard droid. Her face was pulled into a serious, no nonsense expression you tried to adopt yourself, but a smirk kept trying to tug one side of your mouth a little further north.

Creatures from all different species turned to watch as your little group passed by, eyes following as you turned corner after corner. They all had ankle binders on one ankle with blinking lights that reminded you of the tracker on the Crest. Your mind started to spiral for a moment, but you quickly steeled yourself against that thought. Before you could fully switch it off, though, a small pile of junk tumbled down off a nearby heap, creating a small landslide and sending a group of prisoners scrambling away.

The guard droid ambled over to investigate with a few others, all of them trying to corral the prisoners back to their stations, when Cara slid up next to you.

“That you?” She mumbled lowly next to your ear as she pretended to survey the pile of junk behind you.

“What do you mean?”

The look she leveled on you was highly amused but told you you shouldn’t be.

“We’ve all seen it the last few days. You’re hurting.”

Breath stuck in your chest, you looked back over at the scrambling guard droids as they waved their electric batons at some unruly prisoners. Blinking away the sudden wave of tears, you listened to Cara go on. I’m so sick of crying.

“It’s okay.” She lightly set a hand on the top of your shoulder, removing it just as fast. “You-”

“We’ll get him back, I know, I know, everyone keeps saying that.”

She let out a huff, pulling your attention back to her as she smiled softly. “I was going to say you lost someone. I know a little something about that.”

Your eyes zeroed in on the teardrop tattoo on her cheek, something in your gut dropping low at the realization. “Cara, I’m sorry-”

She held up a hand for you to stop, but you didn’t.

“No, here I am moaning about losing one person and you lost your whole planet, I-”

“Loss is loss,” she said softly. “The quantity doesn’t matter. It’s the quality.” Her head tilted affectionately when you sniffled quietly. “One little green magic baby is worth every bit as much as my home world. Especially your little green magic baby.” She held your gaze. “His soul is one of the purest things I’ve ever seen. So bright, and full of joy. And good.” Cara let her hand stay on your shoulder this time. “While yes, that’s something he has naturally, it’s also something that has to be nourished, and it started with just him and Mando, but then you came along….” She smiled. “You came along and he flourished.”

Her eyes looked over your shoulder, the approaching footsteps of the guard droid making your spine go rigid. “But shutting yourself off, letting whatever is inside your head that caused that,” she nodded towards the pile that had shifted in your distraction, “take root…. Don’t let it win. You’re stronger than that.”

“I don’t think that I am,” you mumbled so softly you barely heard yourself.

“I know that you are.”

The guard droid walked past the two of you and kept going, Cara pulling you along as she fell into step behind the droid. Stopping a few yards later in front of a pile of scrap and a lone prisoner sending sparks flying with some tool you didn’t recognize, the droid called them down, and you realized this was who you were here for.

Standing off to the side, one hand on your hip, ready to slide back to your blaster if necessary, you watched the exchange between Cara, the droid and who you supposed was Mayfeld. His eyes pulled over to you once or twice, something sparking in his expression as he looked at you from head to toe before quickly turning back to the droid as it threatened him with the electrified baton.

You let them continue to do all the talking as you hovered a few paces back. This was Mayfeld? He didn’t seem like much. Sidling up beside the guard droid, you tried to look intimidating, like the bouncers back on Coruscant in the higher end bars on the upper levels. Turns out you didn’t have to try very hard, one quick look at your vambraces and your hand hand drifting toward the blaster tucked into the back of your pants as you arched your brow, and he folded easily, following after Cara.

Mayfeld stumbled slightly, but you didn’t believe it for a moment, especially when he suddenly was just fine when you were a mere few steps away. “So you’re here as muscle, huh?”

“Something else I should be here as?”

He grinned slyly. “Well, I could think of a thing or two if I really put my mind to it….” Turning around the last pile of scrap, Mayfeld pulled up short when he saw Boba standing at the bottom of the ramp. “Oh.” He truly looked terrified. “You know, for a second,” he mumbled, “I thought you were this other guy.”

The guard droid turned to leave just as Din started down the ramp, emerging from inside the ship like a shadow.

Mayfeld sucked in a breath, the grin melting off his face in record time and his entire body going rigid at the sight.

As you walked past him you mumbled, “I’ll bet you thought it was him.”

Mayfeld scoffed in disbelief, watching you walk past as you smirked, passing Din at the bottom of the ramp and continuing up till the top where you leaned in the opening, arms crossed over your chest and ankles crossed leisurely.

“Mayfeld,” Din said easily.

“Hey, Mando,” the man dragged out the words with nerves. “Long time.” He chuckled nervously over the words, glancing at the other members of the party. “So what, you came here to kill me?”

Cara’s jaw ticked. “All you need to know is I bent a lot of rules to bring you along.”

Mayfeld held his ground, much to your surprise, and you watched his spine straighten under Cara’s distrustful gaze as you let your head thump back against the ship softly. “Why am I so lucky?”

She leaned toward him slightly. “Because you’re Imperial.”

Shaking his head, he took a step back, inclining his head incredulously. “Hey, that was a long time ago, all right?”

“But you still know your Imperial clearances and protocols, don’t you?” Din closed the distance between them slowly, his voice low, almost threatening.

Mayfeld looked back at the scrap yard over his shoulder almost longingly before looking back at the ship with a sigh as everyone walked up the ramp.

“I’d take the deal if I were you.”

His eyes snapped to you. “Yeah?”

You nodded.

“Isn’t that just what someone setting a trap would want me to think, though?” He grinned slightly, looking more at ease. He was toeing the line between the bottom of the ramp and the grimy soil of the junkyard planet, looking up at you where you still stood at the top.

You watched him shift his weight for a moment before trying your best behind the bar smile you hadn’t had to use in months. It put people at ease and got you the best tips. And it seemed to work like a charm yet again as Mayfeld took an easy step closer. “Do you have any other options?”

Din walked around the corner carrying your belt still laden with weapons just then. “Mesh’la, you’re going to want this back.” He didn’t spare Mayfeld even a glance, but you knew this was purely for his benefit, and it made an amused smile tug at the corner of your lips, taking over any attempt at putting him at ease.

“Thank you,” you murmured, taking it from him with one hand, and untucking the blaster from your waistband with the other. “Hold this for a second?” He nodded, taking the blaster from you while you reattached the belt around your waist where it belonged. You felt in balance again, more whole with the weights at your sides, the mudhorns adorning your hips. But not complete. No, so long as the kid was missing, so would be a part of you.

Looking back up at Mayfeld, you jerked your head toward the ship. “You coming?”

His eyes danced over each weapon hanging from your belt, his throat bobbing as he swallowed in trepidation. “Now I see why you were the muscle.”

Din chuckled softly as he finally turned to acknowledge the other man again. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Xxx

Din spun in his chair at a small console on the large deck of Boba’s ship to face your small party of five, Cara sitting across from Mayfeld and Fennec, you across from Din, and Boba up in the cockpit made it six. “We need coordinates for Moff Gideon’s cruiser.”

“Moff Gideon?” Mayfeld’s eyes went wide. “Yeah, forget it. Just take me back to the scrapyard. I’m not doin’ that.” He scoffed, slumping back in his chair with his arms crossed. You studied him. He truly seemed afraid. As he should be. Gideon was a formidable foe. But for all you’d heard of the elusive Mayfeld, the man retreating into himself before you was not what you expected.

“They have his kid.” Cara’s voice was soft, her gaze holding Mayfeld’s without even blinking.

The man hesitated before he spoke in a matching small voice, “The little green guy?”

Cara’s lips twitched up slightly. “Yeah, ‘The little green guy’.”

“Grogu.” Mayfeld looked over at you with an arched brow. “His name is Grogu.”

He turned to Din. “You pick that out?” His tone was dry, but his features were pulled tight in amusement he was trying to conceal.

The Mandalorian sighed. “No.”

You rolled your eyes. “A Jedi spoke to him in his mind and then told us.”

Mayfeld blinked rapidly as he stared at you for a long moment. “I’m sorry what?”

“A Jedi-”

“No, yeah, I got it,” he waved his hand at you, staring down at his feet. “But wait, why did the Jedi tell both of you? Why were you there?” His eyes narrowed as they flicked over your face. “You his bodyguard or somethin’?”

You couldn’t help the smirk tugging at the side of your mouth. “Or somethin’.”

Staring at you for another long moment, Mayfeld finally shook his head and turned back to Cara. “So…. I help you guys get him back, you guys let me go?”

“That’s not how this works.” She didn’t even hardly let him finish before she answered.

He scoffed lightly, narrowing his brows at her. “Well, then what’s in it for me?”

“You get a better view.”

Fennec gave him a sympathetic look before glancing your way. Understanding was written all over her face. What was her story? She quickly pulled her eyes over to Din, then the floor, schooling her features back to something neutral. Then she lifted her gaze back to Cara.

Mayfeld had simply stared at Cara the whole time after Fennec had broken eye contact with him. “All right, but here’s the thing. I can’t get those coordinates unless I have access to an internal Imperial terminal.” Oh great. This is over before it’s started. How are we- “I believe there’s one on Morak.”

Din went stiff. “Morak? There’s nothing on Morak.”

Mayfeld sighed, talking quickly. “It’s a secret Imperial mining hub, okay?” He looked down at nothing in particular, his voice lowering. “If you can get me in there, I can get you the coordinates.”

After a loaded moment of consideration, Din turned to the console and pushed a button. “Fett, punch in the coordinates to Morak.”

Boba’s voice filled the ship. “Copy that.”

You watched them all exchange ideas as you sat perched in a seat, crate in front of you strewn with blaster parts. Scrubbing at the trigger mechanism for an unneeded fifth time, you looked down to see it sparkle in the low light of the interior of Boba’s ship.

Din kept glancing at you from his spot across the way, he thought he was covert, but a man in brilliant shining armor can only do so much.

I’m fine, you mouthed the next time he looked over, snorting softly in laughter when he straightened in his seat at being caught.

He began signing to you in Tusken, the other members of the party looking on in confusion, but he didn’t seem to care a bit.

“That’s the fifth time you’ve cleaned that blaster in an hour. Any cleaner and you could cook with it.”

You rolled your eyes, setting the parts down to sign back, “Maybe that’s what I’m going for.” Your hands immediately began to cramp as they no longer held the same position, anything other than clutching at parts suddenly felt unnatural, and you glared at Din. “You did this on purpose.”

He shrugged. “Got you to take a break, didn’t I?”

“I don’t need a break….” You grumbled, picking up the cloth you’d been using to scrub the parts with, tugging at a stray fiber coming loose. “I need to…. To….”

“To what?” He encouraged softly.

“Do something!” You almost yelled. Looking around at the party wide eyed, you slumped back in your chair, lowering your voice. “Sorry. Sorry, everyone. I just…. I don’t do this whole waiting thing well. I…. Kriff. Sorry.” You turned back to your blaster, in as many pieces as you felt. “Just go on, I won’t do it again, I promise.”

After a painful moment of silence, Mayfeld quietly cleared his throat. “I do the same thing. I could probably disassemble and reassemble my blaster with my eyes closed at one point.” You looked up to meet his eyes, still fiddling absently with parts, and saw nothing but sincerity.

You shrugged. “I used to tend bar back on Coruscant, so I stayed pretty busy. I’m not used to so much downtime.”

“Wait, wait, wait.” Mayfeld held up a hand. “You…. I thought you looked familiar!”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you dropped the piece in your hand in favor of focusing on this conversation.

“Lower levels? Next to the, uh, uh….” He shut his eyes, face screwed up in concentration, index finger wagging in front of him then tapping his chin in thought. His eyes shot wide open, finger shooting up triumphantly beside his head. “Next to the docks, the docking bay. The sign is broken?”

You smiled fondly, remembering the little hole on the wall bar. “Still is.”

“Yeah!” He cried excitedly. “I went there once or twice to meet up with some buddies.”

Narrowing your eyes again, you studied him closely. “I think I remember you now. Didn’t you come in with Nem?”

He pointed at you in joy, slapping his thigh with the other hand. “That’s the one!”

“Yeah, Nem and a purple Twi’lek.” Both Din and Mayfeld went rigid at the mention of the woman. “She was crazy.”

“Yeah,” he said, his voice distant. “We, uh, we parted ways not too long after. Too much for me.”

You smirked. “Had nothing to do with the fact that you’re serving time?”

Mayfeld tossed his head from side to side. “Well, that, yeah, and that she is also.” He turned to Din. “Do you wanna tell her, or should I?”

“Tell me what?”

“I already told you about the prison job gone wrong.”

“Oh that was this job?” You pointed at Mayfeld.

“Hey, don’t look at me,” Mayfeld protested, hands held up in surrender before one was pointing at Din. “It was his crazy ex that killed the guy.”

“I see,” you were trying so hard not to grin at how uncomfortable Din looked. “That part was conveniently left out.”

“I told you the Twi’lek killed a guard,” he countered.

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

“This is all very amusing, and we can continue this conversation later,” Boba’s voice came over the loudspeaker on the ship from his spot in the cockpit. “But can we get back to the matter at hand for now?” The doors to the cockpit opened and he appeared, coming down the ladder. “I did an initial scan of the planet.” Walking over to the nav, he pushed a button and a holo appeared. “This is what you’re talkin’ about, right?” He pointed at a spot and it zoomed in on a large building.

Mayfeld swallowed when he saw the image, but nodded, taking a step closer. “Yeah, that's the refinery right there.”

Leaning her hands on the console, Fennec bent toward the spinning graphic. “Wonder what they’re refining in there.”

Boba began to scroll through the different specifics of the information. “Looks like rhydonium. Highly volatile and explosive.”

Mayfeld snorted. “Yeah. Kinda like these two, huh.” He chuckled, gesturing to you and Cara with his thumb. When no one laughed, his features melted back to neutral staring at the holo. He glanced at you quickly, doing a double take when he saw your smile of amusement, his own small grin tugging up his cheek slightly as he focused back on the projection.

Cara reached out when he wasn’t looking and shoved your shoulder with a look.

“Anything else, old man?” Arms crossed over your chest, you took a step closer to the hologram.

Brow arched, Boba turned his head toward you slowly. “Excuse me? I’m not that old.”

“Tell that to your face.”

The bounty hunter whipped his gaze toward Mayfeld, both brows arched high. “Come again?”

Mayfeld looked up at the man with wide eyes, stuttering for a moment before he shrugged. “I said this ship is a nice place.”

Boba narrowed his eyes, flicking them between you and Mayfeld before turning back to the screen and continued scrolling as he mumbled, “They have anti-aircraft cannons protecting it.”

“And a platoon of security forces.” Fennec pulled away from the holo, turning to the group with a tight expression.

Din was having none of it. He walked up to the floating blueprint, staring at it, and you got lost as its reflection spun in his visor. “So we go in quiet. Let’s go get a closer look.”

As everyone went their separate ways, Boba to the cockpit with Fennec, Cara escorting Mayfeld back to their seats as he tried to jerk his arm out of her hold mumbling, “Is that necessary? It’s a ship, where am I gonna go? Ow!” you sidled up to Din next to the nav.

Studying the spinning hologram as it rotated lazily, you spoke softly. “It’ll work, Din.”

“I know.”

“It has to.”

“It will.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“Mesh’la….” He reached out to put his hand on your upper arm, but you pulled back out of his reach.

“Not right now. Sorry. I just…. I….” Eyes cast down to the floor, you finally brought them up to catch the T of his visor, barely recognizing your own reflection. “I’m going to go reassemble my blaster.”

Din sighed softly, but nodded as you gestured over your shoulder with your thumb. “Let me know if you beat your time.”

Pausing for a second, you stared at him, a small smile working its way up the side of your face, before it fell once again and you went back to your crate.

Mayfeld was talking lowly with Cara off to your side. “Mesh’la. Is that her name?”

You swallowed down a laugh as Cara choked on her own spit.

“Yeah, just go ahead and call her that. It’s what she goes by.”

It took everything in you not to lift your head and glare at Cara.

The hull of the ship fell silent in the hum of hyperspace as Boba and Fennec came back down, Din taking his seat across from you as you finished the last adjustments on your blaster once again.

“What was your time this time?” Mayfeld asked, and sounded genuinely curious.

You shrugged. “I don’t know, wasn’t paying attention. Just trying to keep busy.”

He smiled easily. “Well it seemed faster if you ask me. The troopers on Morak aren’t ready for the likes of Mesh’la.”

If it was possible, you’d say the hull fell under even more silence, every eye turning on Mayfeld, wide and disbelieving.

“What?” He barked out, turning to each face, his brows drawing together. “That’s her name, isn’t it?” His voice faded along with his expression and his mouth opened and closed a few times before he turned toward Din and mumbled a quiet, “That’s not her name, is it?”

If you had to guess, Mayfeld was probably about to wet himself as Din slowly turned his head to look at him.

A glance over at Boba showed his eyebrows would have been in his hairline if he had any hair.

Jumping to your feet, you dashed between the two men silently staring at one another, your back to Din before he could get to his feet, but you felt him begin to rise behind you, the slow drift up of Mayfeld’s eyes confirming your suspicions. “You don’t get to call me that,” you said softly.

“What, is it a special nickname or something?”

Tossing your head side to side before nodding, you smiled gently. “You could say that.”

“Di’kut,” Boba muttered under his breath. (“Idiot.”)

Mayfeld’s attention turned to the bounty hunter. “What, is that another one?”

The other man nodded, not missing a beat. “Yes, it’s just for you.”

You and Din had to contain snorts of laughter, tucking your head towards your chest to try and conceal the grin that wouldn’t stop.

The gears in Mayfeld’s head were turning. “Oh. So I can tell people I have a Mandalorian name now.” He beamed with pride.

“You should definitely do that,” Fennec spoke for the first time since coming back down, a grin working its way up her face, too.

“How do you say it again?”

“Di’kut,” Din said slowly and clearly, chuckling when Mayfeld repeated it a few times.

“What does it mean?”

“It’s not really translatable,” you offered after a loaded moment. “It’s just understood.”

“So any other Mando will know what it means?”

You nodded. “Anyone who speaks Mando’a will know.”

“And probably a few who don’t.” You couldn’t help but snicker at Fennec’s mumbled comment turned toward Boba’s back and meant only for those beside her.

Turning to face the wall behind you to conceal your broad grin still plastered on your face, you tried to take a deep, calming breath, but it quickly devolved into more snickers. Din came along, patting you on the back with a mumbled, “Are you okay?” but his words bounced so severely with restrained laughter it only made you worse, and you had to tuck into his cowl to hide your growing snorts of amusement.

Fennec was chuckling quietly, her face still angled slyly into Boba’s back, while Boba smiled kindly at Mayfeld.

Cara, on the other hand, didn’t understand what the word meant, but knew it wasn’t good, and was blatantly grinning like a fool at the whole exchange, her feet propped up on a crate in front of her.

Mayfeld grinned, oblivious to the snide exchanges behind beskar clad hunters. “Wizard.”

Xxx

Standing on the top of a cliff looking down at a road on a remote jungle planet, you looked around in wonder. It was so green. And you’d bet there were fireflies here somewhere.

“There aren’t,” Din mumbled, stepping up beside you.

Peering up at him, having to squint in the bright sunlight, but also because you wanted to narrow your eyes at him accusingly, you asked quietly, “Aren’t what?”

“Fireflies. I already looked it up before we left the ship.”

Your jaw dropped. “How did you-”

He turned to look down at you, his head tilted slightly. “You’re like a book, mesh’la. Easiest thing to read.”

“Easiest thing to read,” you scoffed, turning back to look over the edge of the cliff. “I’m not easy, I’m Huttese if I’m anything.” Turning back to him, pointing an accusatory finger close to his visor, you lowered your voice further, grumbling. “You’re easy to read.”

“Even with the helmet?”

“Especially with the helmet. You have one look.” You imitated the beskar’s flat expression. “Just,” your face fell flat again. “It’s like learning Mando’a the first time.”

Din huffed out an amused laugh. “Oh, really?”

“No,” you finally grumbled, turning back to look over the edge of the cliff again, arms crossing over your chest. “But it still wasn’t that difficult.” Your weight shifted to one leg and you cleared your throat. “Had you figured out after your first few visits to the bar.”

“That soon, huh? Am I really that easy?” Din was just poking at the krayt now, with a small, small stick.

“Oh, honey, the easiest.”

You laughed at Cara’s response as she made it to the top of the hill, her arm snaking around Din’s shoulder playfully.

“What are we talking about?”

Din looked at her for a long moment before he grunted, shook his head, and shrugged out of her grasp.

“Oh, don’t be like that, shiny!””

Din rounded on her, his face inches from hers as a smirk climbed her face.

“Told ya he wouldn’t let anyone but you get away with calling him names like that. You owe me fifty credits.”

Din’s head swiveled over to stare at you, head slightly tilted to the side.

You shrugged, turning your attention to Cara. “Ah, nope. I only owe you half.” Her eyes snapped off the back of Din’s helmet to meet your amused gaze. “You called him shiny on the ship before we picked up Mayfeld, and he didn’t say anything, so….”

Din turned back to Cara, waiting on her response.

“That’s true….” She mused, eyes flicking back over onto Din, before meeting yours again. “But he was distracted.”

Shrugging once more, you scuffed your foot on the ground, “I mean, if you wanna get technical, that’s true. So I win and you owe me fifty.”

Din looked straight ahead with a sigh, his shoulders deflating in defeat.

“No!” Cara didn’t even hesitate. “No. Half is fine.”

“Is that settled?” Din’s voice was tired, making you chuckle.

“Yes. The others are here now, anyway.”

The three of you looked to your left to see Mayfeld leading Boba and Fennec up the incline, the two of them exchanging looks as he huffed and puffed from the trek.

As he stood near the edge, surveying the valley below, hands on his hips, he took a deep breath. “Wow! That is high!” Blowing out the breath on a long huff, he bent over and leaned on his knees, his face scrunching up like he ate something sour. “Let’s land closer next time.”

“Let’s not need a next time,” you mumbled, your mood taking a sour turn at the comment like his expression.

He turned to you, nodding, having the decency to look sheepish as he stood up straight again, his breathing finally back to something close to normal. “I’m not gonna need long inside, so once I get the coordinates, you guys gotta get me the hell out of there.”

Boba nodded as he stepped closer to the edge and peered down. “You get to the roof. I’ll drop in and pull you out.”

Another of the large transport vehicles rumbled past on the road down in the valley, all of your heads following it as it disappeared into a nearby tunnel to the left.

Cara cleared her throat, taking a step back toward the path down the steep incline. “All right. Mayfeld and I will swap out for the drivers in the tunnel.”

Mayfeld planted his feet, hands coming up to gesture while he spoke. “Hey. As much as I’d like to take a road trip with Rebel-dropper here,” Cara’s face twisted in a face that was not amused, “that’s not gonna work.”

“Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” Her tone was wearing thin.

You stepped between Mayfeld and Cara, gesturing her back with your hand when she went to step forward. “I think what my friend here is trying to say,” you looked at her pointedly over your shoulder before looking back at Mayfeld, “is could you please give us a little more detail about why it won’t work?”

He nodded, his gesturing continuing. “Well, because these Remnant bases are set up and run by ex-ISB. If you get scanned and your genetic signature shows up on any New Republic register, you’re gonna be detected, and it’s guns out.”

Turning to Cara, you held her gaze firmly. “I’m not on any registers.” You turned to face Din. “I’ll go.”

Din just looked at you, no words needed, you all understood. No.

Ignoring your suggestion completely, Din moved on to the next subject. “We don’t have time for this. Fennec will go.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m wanted by the ISB. I’ll trip the alarm, too.”

Din sighed, looking over his shoulder at the other Mandalorian. “Fett?”

“Let’s just say they might recognize my face.”

Narrowing your eyes at the green beskar, your mind began to wander as you pondered his words…. He did look familiar. And in more than just the “I met you for five seconds when I was twelve” sense. But whenever you saw a familiar face in your memory, they were all in your childhood, on the streets of Coruscant. All in white. Troopers. Clones.

In fact you’d seen a few since being with Din on the Crest, old war veterans sitting against deserted city walls with signs asking for aid. You’d tossed a few credits when you could, a ration pack if you couldn’t, a smile and kind word if the other two were running dry. No matter what you had to offer, a smile and thanks was always waiting for you in a warm and similar voice. Kind, kindred, soft, but broken…. So, so broken. And each with the exact same face. Give or take a few years.

But Boba looked older than most of them. Could he be…. No. But…. Your head hurt.

Boba turned his visor to you just slightly, just enough to catch your eye, and tilted his head to the side knowingly.

You raised your eyebrows at him and he just simply bowed his head gently in acknowledgment, something so small anyone else that saw it would think he was just nodding off or something. All you could do was blink at him, his shoulders shaking slightly in silent amusement. Shaking your head to clear it, you tuned back in to the conversation at hand.

Mayfeld was still going on about the vehicle. “Great, so it’s me goin’ in alone.”

“Or I could go, too. It’s a good idea, Mando, and you know it.” It didn’t hurt to try again. He didn’t even bother to look at you this time and somehow that hurt more. The anger boiling under your skin since the kid was taken starting to simmer again despite your best efforts.

Cara and Mayfeld began to bicker yet again as Din used the scope off of one of his rifles to look at another truck driving by.

“I’ll go.”

Mayfeld scoffed, laughing quietly. “Hey, buddy, I might be good at fast-talking, but I don’t think I can explain away a guy in a Mando suit to Imperial guards. So, unless you’re gonna take off that helmet, it’s gonna be me goin’ in alone.” His eyes fell on you as his voice softened. “Or say goodbye to your little green friend.”

Din’s hand closed around the scope as he lowered it back to his side, the leather of his gloves creaking under the effort. “You’re not going alone. I’m coming with you. But I won’t be showing my face.”

Something about seeing Din under as much pressure as you, in as much pain, made your turmoil lessen slightly. Was that horrible? It wasn’t that you felt good that he was suffering, too. In fact it was the opposite. You felt the need to be strong for him. Be strong when he couldn’t. When he shouldn’t be. He was allowed to break, too.

Mayfeld ‘s expression was sour. “And big scary green Mando is out?”

Boba sighed. “Yes.”

“You sure, old timer?”

The bounty hunter’s voice had grown tight. “I’m almost as young as he is.” He tilted his head toward Din on his right.

“That’s why he keeps the helmet on.”

Both beskar clad men took a step toward the man, stopping when he slunk back around to hide behind you.

Mayfeld looked like anything else was preferable to spending time alone with Din. “Let’s circle back around to her idea,” he pointed at you. “She can go with me.”

“No.” Din didn’t even hesitate.

So neither did you. “Yes.”

He sighed, turning to you. “Stop.”

“Let the lady make her own decisions, Mando.” Mayfeld’s hands were resting on his hips.

You mimicked his posture, hands going to your own hips as you glared playfully at Din. “Yeah, Mando. You know I’m going with you. That’s not negotiable. You need me.” All around you, every member of your party looked down as little pebbles and twigs began to float up off the ground, suspended in the air while you and Din stared at one another. You let them fall abruptly after Din let out another sigh in resignation, grinning at him in triumph.

Mayfeld simply stared at the ground with knit brows for a long moment before asking bluntly, “What just happened?”

“Maybe someday I’ll tell you,” you put your hands on his shoulders and turned him to start back down the path towards Boba’s ship. “But for now we need to regroup and get ready. This needs to happen soon.”

“I mean, I don’t have anything but what’s on me now,” Mayfeld started, the twist of his smirk making you want to roll your eyes. Here we go. “The clothes on my back are all the ray of absolute sunshine over there would allow me.” He gestured toward Cara over his shoulder with his thumb. “But that could change really quickly if you wanted….”

Suddenly Mayfeld was stumbling ahead of you, and bright silver beskar catching the sun came up in your peripherals.

“What’d I do?!” Mayfeld objected, rounding on Din.

“I’m not quite sure,” Boba said from the back of the group, “but if you do it again, I have a very nice carbonite chamber you can make the ride home in when we’re done.”

Mayfeld gulped loudly, eyes going wide as his steps froze. Like the flip of a switch, his features twisted into amusement, a tense laugh bubbling out of his chest. “Nah, you’re joking. ….right?”

Boba had moved up from the back and fell into step beside you, his tone nonchalant as he continued to address Mayfeld. “It’s very real. I can have Fennec show you, if you’d like.”

Swallowing roughly, Mayfeld mumbled something about how he was fine and turned to continue toward the ship.

Inching closer to you, Boba leaned down to speak lowly next to your ear. “It’s very real, yes, but also very broken at the moment.” You smirked as he lifted his head back toward Mayfeld. “I think you’ll especially love the shuk'yc aspect of it.” (“Broken down.”)

You chuckled at the ribbing the bounty hunter was giving the man. “Be nice,” you mumbled toward the green beskar to your right, your threat clearly more of an acknowledgement of the game he was starting than an actual admonishment.

“Shuk-” After stumbling over the word, Mayfeld groaned softly. “Can someone explain that in a way I will understand?”

“I’m sure they could, but where’s the fun in that,” Cara mused as she walked past.

You shook your head. “This is osik'la.” (“Messed up.”)

Boba laughed. “It’s fun to jurkadir ti.” (“Mess someone around.”)

Mayfeld had turned back around to face the group and was walking backwards. “That’s not funny, guys.”

You ignored him, speaking exclusively to Boba. “Yes but the di'kut can’t understand it.” (“Idiot.”)

Stumbling as he continued to move backwards, Mayfeld righted himself, glancing over his shoulder as he prattled on. “What are you talking about? I heard my Mando name. That’s my name. I know that much. Are you guys talking about me? Come on!”

Boba shrugged. “Kaysh mirsh solus. What more can you do?” (“He's an idiot.” (Lit. “His brain cell is lonely.”))

“Hello!” Mayfeld dragged out the word in annoyance.

You smirked. “True.”

Boba turned to Mayfeld. “Just singing your praises.” His visor landed back on you. “Aren’t we, mesh’la?” (“Beautiful.”)

Mayfeld pulled up short. “Wait. I’m confused. Why isn’t Mando trying to murder him for calling her mesh- that name?” He stumbled over the word, stopping short when he thought better of trying to say it again. Turning to Din, hands on his hips, he raised his brows expectantly.

“I kinda like him. You on the other hand….”

Mayfeld tossed his hands up letting them come back down to his sides with a slap, a wry smile twisting up his features. “Ok. I see how it is.” He spun in a half circle away from everyone before turning back to look you and Boba straight on. “Ha ha, let’s keep Mayfeld in the dark - that’s not fair, guys! I’m a member of this group, too!”

“You’re right….” Boba mused quietly, tilting his visor down to meet your gaze. “Me'vaar ti gar?” (“What's new with you?”)

Looking up at him, you grinned. “Naas.” (“Nothing.”)

Mayfeld just stared, taking a deep breath through his nose, arms crossed over his chest, and his left eye twitched slightly. He turned to Din once again. “What are they saying?”

Din leaned in slightly and said in a dry tone, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

Mayfeld leaned back away from Din.

You laughed, bumping your shoulder into Boba’s side. “Vor'e, ruug'la jag.” (“Thanks, old man.”)

“U'tabi, ad’ika. Ori'buyce, kih'kovid gar. Gedeteya Ni guuro gar.” (“Tread carefully, little one. All helmet, no head. Be thankful I like you.”)

You turned your gaze up to his visor, finding it tilted to the side teasingly. “Gar gedeteya Ni gana jate aalan, ba'buir. Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?” (“You be thankful I have a good mood, grandfather. Are you looking for a smack in the face, mate?”)

He shrugged. “Haatyc or'arue jate'shya ori'sol aru'ike nuhaatyc. Gar cuyi copikla….” (“Better one big enemy that you can see than many small ones that you can't. You’re, cute….”)

You dropped your jaw. In Mando’a that last word was reserved for children, using it for a woman meant you had a death wish. Narrowing your eyes at him, you lowered your voice in playful warning. “Slana’pir, ruug’la jag.” (“Piss off, old man.”)

Boba laughed softly, but before he could respond, Mayfeld turned to Cara, asking loudly, “Can you believe this?”

Cara looked at him with a disarming smile as she said clear as day the one thing Din had taught her in Mando’a, “Ne shab'rud'ni.” (“Don't fuck around with me.”)

Mayfeld turned and walked off several steps, tossing his hands in the air again. “Oh, kriff all of ya!” He rounded on Boba. “How do you say ‘kriff you’ in Mando’a?”

“Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?” (“Want a headbutt, mate?”)

You choked on a laugh, turning it into a cough as you turned to the side.

Narrowing his eyebrows at the green Mandalorian before shaking his head, he turned back to the group, pointing at Boba. “What he said!” Then quieter, “I think.” As soon as he’d said that, he made his way over to Fennec, falling in step with her as you all continued toward Boba’s ship. “You know what they are saying?”

She nodded, not looking away from the path. “I know enough to get by.”

“Then-”

She interrupted him with a smirk. “Ner burc'ya…. Val bid mirdala.” (“My friends…. They are so clever.”)

“What?”

“No, I won’t tell you.”

Mayfeld turned in a slow circle, glaring daggers at all of you in turn. “When this job is done, I never want to hear another word of Mando’a ever again.”

“Koor,” you agreed with a nod, grinning when he turned his glare squarely on you. Looking at the ground to try and contain your glee as you walked past him at the bottom of the ramp, you mumbled a quiet explanation, “Deal.” (“Deal.”)

“You know what,” he grumbled, looking like a pouting child. “You can all go kiss a krayt dragon.”

Silence filled the spaces left between all of you, heavy and awkward. Sighing as you came to a stop at the top of the ramp, you turned to face your petulant new friend.

But before you could say anything, Din broke the silence with an easy, “Better than getting swallowed by one.”

Mayfeld scoffed. “How would you know?” He stared at Din, his expression quickly melting to wide eyed disbelief, his voice along with it as he mumbled a quiet, “How would you know?”

“Or being partially digested by a sarlacc.”

All heads slowly swiveled to look at Boba in silence.

After another long moment, Mayfeld turned to Din. “Oh, don’t tell me you….” Din shrugged, making Mayfeld wince before turning to Boba. “And you….”

Silence once again settled around you all, this time filled with loaded looks and amusement.

Holding his hands up by his head in surrender, Mayfeld looked at the ground, shaking his head. “I’m not even gonna try anymore….” He started up the ramp, mumbling, “I will never live up to my Mandalorian name. I’ll never be deserving of di’kut….”

Fennec walked past him, grinning as she offered, “Oh, believe me…. You already are.”

Xxx

Cara, Mayfeld, and Din left the ship to go to a spot a little further up the hill from the lookout. It was directly above the tunnel so the four of you could easily drop down onto the next transport.

“You coming?” Din stopped after a few steps, looking over his shoulder at you with a small inquisitive tilt of his head.

“I’ll be right behind you.”

Once they were just out of sight, you turned to Boba as he came up beside you, taking the earpiece he extended your way.

“Are you sure you want to do this, little one?”

Adjusting the small electronic in your ear, a faint beep signifying it had connected to his comm once you had let it settle for a moment, you stared down the path where the others had disappeared. “No.” Looking up at the tall man with kind eyes, you smiled softly. “But I have to.”

Din had no idea about you taking the comm in with you. It wasn’t a big deal, all things considered, not as much as you actually going into the base with them the way you intended to. But if you got caught with any sort of communication device, any sort of interrogation you’d receive would be ten times as worse than if you just wandered onto the base. It’d look more like you were gathering intelligence, which was the goal of being here, yes, but you were just going in to clear a way to the roof as a way of escape. Din and Mayfeld were the ones gathering the intelligence. If Din knew you had an earpiece, he wouldn’t let you go, most likely.

“Channel three, if you get kicked out for some reason.”

You turned to Fennec as she spoke, appearing seemingly out of thin air on your other side. Nodding in understanding, you made sure your weapons belt was tight. “Channel three, got it. Otherwise we’re secure? Or do I need to worry about some sort of code?”

“This isn’t espionage….” Boba’s tone was highly amused.

“Actually, it kinda is….”

After an exchange of loaded looks, all three of you chuckled quietly.

“Long live the Empire,” Boba mumbled sarcastically as he turned to walk away.

“You should leave those here.” Fennec’s ever quiet tone made you pause, turning to her in question. She gestured to your belt.

“You want me to go in unarmed?” The scoff fell out of your mouth before you could stop it.

With a roll of her eyes, Fennec shifted her weight to one side before looking at you pointedly. “No. But if you go in loaded to the teeth with beskar, a loaded belt, and-”

“I’m not loaded to the teeth,” you protested, hands on your hips. “I’m not Mando.”

She huffed, pointing at each thing. “Vambraces - beskar vambraces - loaded with probably five or more weapons on their own. Saber. Blaster number one. Blaster number two. Knife….”

“Okay, okay, I get the point.”

“….Rifle on your back. Probably a vibroblade in your boot like Mando has and tries to pretend no one knows is there….”

You arched a brow. “You done?”

“….And it’s purely speculation, but you may or may not have a blaster in the waistband of your pants.”

“That was just to collect Mayfeld.”

Fennec huffed. “Please. You don’t trust him as far as you can throw him.”

“Considering my abilities, that’s actually pretty far….”

Fennec turned to leave, but you reached out, lightly grabbing her forearm to stop her.

“Wait, wait. I’m sorry. You’re right. I mean, no, it’s not in my waist anymore, but I’ve kept something on or near me at all times. But not just since Mayfeld…. Since…. Uh….”

Her features softened. “Since the kid.”

“Yes. No. I mean, not just since he’s been taken-”

“I know what you mean.” Her free hand came to rest on your upper arm softly, a kind smile pulling up her face. “Ever since the kid, period.” You nodded. “I wouldn’t understand if I hadn’t met Boba. Mandalorians are fiercely protective of anyone they deem family, beyond blood, beyond any bond I’ve ever seen.”

“Aliit ori'shya tal'din.” You mumbled the saying you’d heard Din recite to the kid time and time again, looking down at the floor before bringing your eyes back up to meet Fennec’s. “I’m not Mandalorian, though.” (“Family is more than blood.”)

She grinned. “Don’t discount yourself so quickly. Besides, that doesn’t matter. You’re family.”

Holding her gaze, your eyes went wide. “I have to get him back, Fennec. This has to work. I-”

“Then choose two weapons to take, and I’ll hold the rest here on the ship, stash them somewhere safe until you get back.”

“Two?” You whined. She arched a brow at you. “Fine,” you grumbled, turning down to inspect your belt.

In the end you opted to take the knife Din had originally etched the mudhorn on tucked safely in your boot, and the first blaster that had gotten his signet as well.

Unclipping your saber and second blaster, you handed them to her. “I’m leaving the belt on. Need my hands free.” She nodded. “Don’t lose these.” If looks could kill…. Then Fennec would be twice as deadly right now. Taking the rifle slung over your shoulders off, you thrust it into her waiting hand, watching sadly as she set it against a nearby crate before turning back toward you.

She held her hand out, waiting. After a moment of no movement, she trilled her fingers against the air. “Vibroblade.”

“Oh, come on!” She smirked at your complaint. “You’re leaving me defenseless!” Tugging the spare blade out of your other boot, you smacked it into her waiting palm. Waving a finger at her, your face turned stern. “You’re not getting my vambraces.”

“And your plan to cover them is….”

You thought for a moment. “Jedi mind tricks?” Your voice went up at the end, going slightly squeaky, and you cursed yourself silently.

Fennec’s face fell flat, her hand extending toward you once again, waiting.

“Nope. No way.” You leaned closer. “I’m Mandalorian, remember?” She took a deep breath through her nose in an effort to stay calm. “Weapons are part of my religion.”

“You’re not going to stop, are you?” She kept her voice flat, but a smile was tugging up one side of her face, betraying her true feelings.

You smirked. “What do you think?”

Xxx

“Where’ve you been?” Din wasted no time once you caught up with the small group on the edge of the cliff, quickly ducking onto your stomach on the ground beside him. You had to shove Mayfeld to the side with your shoulder, earning a grunt from the man, but he acquiesced, scooting to make room.

Before you could answer, your mouth opening as you took a breath, Din’s visor dropped down to your waist. “Where’s the rest of your weapons?”

You turned to meet the hard stare of his T, arching a brow as you waited. “You gonna let me talk now?”

A soft grunt was his only response, making a small smile work its way up your face.

“Fennec thought it best I leave most of them behind, just to be safe.”

A deep sigh in your ear had you biting the inside of your cheek to not react.

“Dropping me right in the rancor pit, I see….” Fennec’s dry tone made you want to laugh, but you just cleared your throat instead, looking down to the road below.

Boba’s warm chuckle drifted into your ear next. “Don’t worry, Fennec. I’ll protect you if the Mandalorian takes offense.”

“I can take care of myself, old timer.”

Boba groaned. “Not you, too. I saved your life, you know. You could be a little nicer to me.”

“I don’t know. Has a nice ring to it….”

Their argument continued, drowning out Mayfeld as he began to ask questions as well. Then Cara as she told the two men to butt out.

Closing your eyes to try and focus on at least one thing, you finally snapped. “Guys!”

“What?” Three voices beside you said in unison with two voices in your ear.

Snapping your eyes open, you stared ahead blankly, trying to figure out what to say that could appease all five people waiting on your response.

“Now’s not the time. Focus. Please.” You gestured down at the road with one hand. “We have a small window in which to do this.” The ground began to rumble beneath your palms. “And here it comes.”

The four of you exchanged looks as the transport drew closer, dropping down onto the roof once it began to pass into the tunnel.

Keeping low until the top of the ceiling opened up enough that you could stand hunched over, then making your way to the front. Once you were over the cab, you flung the hatch open and held it back for Cara as she dropped down, catching the drivers off guard.

After a few grunts and the sound of a fist colliding with cheap armor sounded a handful of times, you stuck your head down into the opening. “Need any help?”

Cara pushed the limp body on her right to the side and grabbed the lever directly in front of her, yanking it back with a loud huff. “No, I’m fine, thanks.” She stumbled a bit as the vehicle lurched to a stop.

“Just making sure,” you lilted teasingly as you pulled back from the hatch, gesturing Din and Mayfeld forward from where they had stayed in the back to keep watch on the road. Cara calling your name drew you back into the small cockpit. “Yes?” Everything was upside down from the way you were perched.

“Actually, you wanna help me get these guys outta here?”

You just blinked at her for a minute, confused, until she huffed again, lifting her hand and wiggling her fingers teasingly at you in the way she did when she talked about the kid and his powers.

You sighed, rolling your eyes as you flipped over yourself, dropping into the small space beside her.

“Thank you,” she sang happily, a wide grin on her face as she yanked the drivers door open to reveal Din and Mayfeld down on the ground already waiting. She tried to shove the body with her foot, but it hardly budged.

“Safety belt, genius,” Mayfeld mumbled, reaching out to click it open, the body collapsing further forward without the restraint.

Cara grumbled at him, gesturing him around to the passenger side with a jerk of her head.

When he didn’t move, Din gave him a gentle push around the front of the transport. “Go around. I’ve got this one.”

“But I wanted to drive,” he grumbled as he made his way around.

You unclipped the passenger side safety belt, the unconscious body slumping forward into the dash as Mayfeld opened the door. “You can, but let’s get them out of the uniforms and tied up first. We’re on the clock.”

Mayfeld wiggled his eyebrows. “Kinky.” He tried to yank the body, not making much headway, and looked across to see Din and Cara not even attempting to touch the bodies. “A little help here?”

“Step back,” you tried to wave him away, but he stood close to the door, making you sigh in frustration. “Di’kut, step back.”

A grin slowly spreading across his face, he stepped to the side with his hands held up in surrender.

“Finally,” you mumbled, lifting both hands to your sides and flicking your wrists outward as if you were shooing a bug, making the bodies fly out of their respective sides and onto the ground. “I’m not helping to get them naked, that’s your job.”

Din was already pulling the whipcord from his vambrace to bind the guard at his feet.

Mayfeld rolled his guard over by nudging his shoulder with his boot. “Hey, Mando. Got any to spare?”

“I do.” You stepped to the passenger side, pressing a button on your vambrace to let the cord spool onto the ground.

As the two men set about taking care of the troopers, you stood behind Cara as she messed with switches all over the console. “This thing going to explode when they put it back in gear?”

She snorted a laugh. “No. The rhydonium is still stable, and the engine is all in order, no fail safes that I can see.”

“No trackers?”

She looked over her shoulder at you, smiling gently. “No trackers.” Leaning closer, she whispered, “Hey, by the way, what does that mean anyway?”

“What does what mean?”

“Hey, look! Who am I?” Both of you turned toward the sound of Mayfeld’s voice to find him in the trooper helmet, his voice dropping ridiculously low as he monotonously said, “This is the way.”

“Idiot,” Cara mumbled, shaking her head.

You grinned and said lowly, “If you already know, why’d you ask?”

Her eyes shot up to yours, a laugh barking out of her chest before several more came out to meet it.

“Mesh’la?”

Turning at the sound of Din’s voice out the driver’s door, you saw him holding out a hand toward you to help you out of the vehicle. Taking his hand, you jumped down beside him, looking up at him with raised brows.

Mayfeld came around the corner dragging the other guard before tossing him beside the one Din had stashed in a nearby corner for Cara to deal with once you all left. He threw the uniform at Din, stooping down to pick up the drivers set off the floor of the transport where the Mandalorian had left it before disappearing behind one of the massive tires to change. After a moment, his shirt came flying from behind the huge wheel, landing squarely on Cara’s face.

She whipped it down, glaring at the tire, then at you, rolling her eyes when you held your hands up in surrender. Turning, she jumped back into the cockpit.

“Mayfeld is gonna die someday and no one will question anything because everyone will know it was Cara.” Turning back to Din, you chuckled softly as you asked, “I’m assuming you want me to stash your armor in the bag as you go to save time?”

He nodded. “It’d help.”

You returned the nod, following him to a secluded outcropping of wall he could step behind for privacy before taking the large bag he offered you and turning your back to him. Both to keep watch, and out of habit knowing he’d be removing his helmet.

Quickly and efficiently he removed each piece of beskar, handing it to you over your shoulder to set delicately down in the bag, making a mental note of the order. They were in such a way that they nestled into one another, stacking neatly.

Next, his flight suit was passed to you. Setting the bag down by your feet, you folded it quickly but neatly.

Placing it in the top of the bag, you shook your head. “You know, come to think of it, I’ve never seen you fold anything.”

“I know how to fold.”

“Name one thing you fold on a regular basis.” No answer. “This must have been before me, because I have only ever seen you remove your cape, and when you do, it’s in a ball shoved in a corner somewhere on the Crest.”

Din grunted.

A piece of material brushed your arm before disappearing, then reappeared along with a sigh from the Mandalorian behind you.

Turning toward the cloth you saw his cape and cowl, folded into a nice…. Ball. You grinned as you narrowed your brows at the wad of fabric in your hand. “How….”

He chuckled. “Years of practice.”

Tilting your head before you took a deep breath to ask another question, he cut you off.

“Not one word,” he grumbled, his voice bouncing as he stepped into the trooper flight suit.

“I didn’t say anything!” You protested, taking his gloves as he handed them to you over your shoulder. “Will you switch your helmet so I can help you with this shit armor, please?”

Din sighed.

“Is there a problem?”

“It…. smells.”

You couldn’t help but start to laugh, the sound growing when Mayfeld contributed.

“You, too?” His voice echoed off the walls of the tunnel from a few yards down where he sat in the opening of the drivers door, tying the laces of his boots. “Oh, my God, this guy reeked! His gloves are still wet…. Ugh!”

Screwing your face up in disgust, you turned around to face Din, doing up the top of the flight suit he still had open. “Okay. Well, then, let’s just get done what we can, and do that last. How’s that sound? We need to hurry, though, so I’m sorry, but you won’t get long.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” he mumbled, one ungloved hand coming to rest on your hip, lingering there before he gently pushed you to the side as he reached for the trooper armor behind you.

Jaw dropped in shock, you shoved his shoulder. “Fine. Do it on your own.” Turning to march off dramatically, you were stopped by a finger in the collar of your shirt as he laughed softly.

“Help me, please. I’m sorry.”

Grumbling, you grabbed the chest plate. “I’ll help you,” you mumbled. “Put this on upside down. See how that helps.”

Once each piece was settled, all that was left was the helmet.

“Okay, take a deep breath while you can, then put that ugly bucket on.” Closing your eyes, you held out your hands, waiting to take the beskar dome when he was ready.

A hiss of the mechanism sounded before it was placed in your hands, another mechanism quickly reengaging.

“Mesh’la.”

Opening your eyes, you came face to face with a trooper, and despite expecting it, you jumped. “Scary.” Din huffed. “You sound different.”

“I’m trying not to breathe too deeply.”

You grimaced. “What does it smell like?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Setting his helmet in the bag, you didn’t like seeing it staring back at you without Din inside of it. Cinching the bag tight, you went to lift it, but there was no way you’d ever be able to, it was too heavy.

“I’ve got it,” Din said softly, swinging the bag over his shoulder as he walked back toward the transport. He hadn’t taken two steps out from behind the wall when Mayfeld began to chuckle.

“Look at this. Oh, the shame. Now, that right there is worth the price of admission.”

Din ignored him, continuing on to Cara, stopping a few feet in front of her as if to say, “Well?”

She grinned, her voice tight from trying not to laugh. “Wish I could say it looked good on you, but I’d be lying.”

Mayfeld was still chuckling softly from his perch in the drivers side door, so you made your way over there, by all appearances, nonchalantly, while Din and Cara continued going over the plan once again. When you were close enough, you peered up at him, enjoying the way his chuckles began to slowly fade. “What’s so funny?”

“Are you not seeing what I’m seein’?” He pointed toward Din.

Looking over your shoulder before turning back to him, you arched a brow. “I see two men wearing the exact same uniform.”

He scoffed. “Well then you’re not seein’ what I’m seein’. He-” Mayfeld was cut off by an unseen force tugging him precariously close to the edge of the doorway he sat in, and it was a several foot drop to the ground below should he…. fall.

Taking a step closer to his flailing form, you leaned into him a bit. “You were saying?”

Wide eyes landing on yours, Mayfeld swallowed roughly. “He looks great. That’s what I was gonna say. Fits him like a glove. Second skin. Anything else?”

You pulled him forward about an inch, smirking when his eyes screwed shut. “I haven’t decided yet….”

“Mesh’la.” The Mandalorian’s tone was flat, and unamused.

“No, let her finish,” Cara added quietly. “This is my favorite part.”

“Hey, guys.” Mayfeld sat up and glared at you, the expression faltering when you arched a brow at him. “Still on the clock.”

As Din walked past the drivers side to get to the passengers side, Mayfeld tisked. “What would they say on Mandalore?”

“Di’kut, for one,” you grumbled under your breath, turning to face Cara.

Fennec and Boba had been largely silent since you had asked everyone to focus, thankfully, but this comment sent warm laughter into your ear from the earpiece.

“Whoops, sorry, ad’ika. Bumped the button on the comm while I was moving something,” Boba’s voice came through softly. “But as long as I’m here, just know we’re listening and ready to help if- when you need.”

You scoffed quietly, turning so Cara wouldn’t question you. “When I need it? Your confidence is overwhelming.”

Boba’s tone was amused, the sound of his pilot’s chair creaking and you could just picture him leaning back in it lazily. “Just call me optimistic.”

“I’ll call you something, old man, but it won’t be optimistic-”

“Did you say something?”

Turning to face Cara, finding her brows raised at you in question, you coughed, patting your chest a few times as you shook your head.

“No. Just swallowed wrong or something.”

Boba chuckled in your ear. “Careful, ad’ika. You need to be better about this whole covert thing, you’re about to be in a base filled with troopers. What are you going to do then? Start sneezing?”

Rolling your eyes, you took a step closer to Cara. Before you could bid her goodbye, however, Mayfeld began talking again, ribbing her as he climbed into the drivers seat.

“You know, it’s a shame you’re not comin’ along with us. You got such a sunny disposition. Can’t imagine how much fun you are in one of these.”

Nodding to Cara, you turned to head for the transport, but her hand on your elbow stopped you. A quick glance at her face showed this conversation had violence in mind.

“Hypothetically,” she began, licking her lips as she took a deep breath before going on, “if I were to…. Dispose of Mayfeld, could you - hypothetically, of course - use your Force powers to reanimate him so I could do it again?” She trilled her fingers on Force powers like she always did, making you snort.

“Hypothetically?” You turned to look at the man in question settling into the drivers seat, Cara’s gaze following along and glaring daggers as she nodded.

“You have twenty seconds to give me an answer before this is no longer hypothetical.”

Tilting your head to the side, you crossed your arms over your chest as you continued to study the man behind the controls. “And if the answer is no?”

She shrugged. “Then he had a nice life.”

Shaking your head, you tucked a laugh into your chest. “I know it pains you, but I need his help right now, Cara.”

“I know, I know, I was only kidding.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

You put a hand on her shoulder. “Let’s get through this, then we can revisit these…. Thoughts.”

“Promise?” She asked hopefully, but you knew she was teasing. She’d never actually follow through on the threat.

“I will do no such thing.”

“I thought you were my friend!” She called to your back as you climbed into the vehicle.

Din reached out a hand from his spot in the passenger seat to help you up. Taking it with a smile up his way, you hauled yourself up and called back over your shoulder, “Friends don’t let other friends commit atrocities!”

“They do if they love each other!”

Turning around to face her, you cocked your head to the side as you ducked down to see her through the opening. “Is that what you’re doing right now? Loving me by helping commit atrocities?”

Her face was comically screwed up in mock offence. “Hell no! This is for the kid. There’s nothing more of a just cause in this galaxy than that.”

“Are you two done?”

You glared at Mayfeld’s mumbled question, tripping as you turned to climb the rest of the way in, knocking his seat forward slightly.

Cara was glaring at him from her spot beside the transport, and she quickly turned to you. “Just give me two minutes.”

One of the guards tied up beside her began to stir, and without looking, she hit him in the back of the head with the butt of her rifle, sending him slack once again.

“You have a job to do, Cara. And so do we. Go.”

As the door sealed shut, you saw her roll her eyes through the viewport, hoisting the bodies in each hand and dragging them in the direction of Boba’s ship. What was going to happen to them? You had no clue.

Mayfeld was staring at the console looking a little lost. “What’s goin’ on here? Power coil, motivator….”

You leaned forward, reaching over his shoulder and flipping the proper switch to start the engine.

He glared up at you as he grumbled, “I was gettin’ to that.” Pressing a large lever forward, the transport lurched forward, the light at the end of the tunnel getting closer. “And we are off.”

Xxx

Mayfeld couldn’t let the silence sit for long. Turning to Din as he adjusted some controls, he tilted his head back slightly. “Hey, how’s it feel?”

Din, of course, was silent. He stared straight ahead, not moving an inch aside from the bumpy road jostling you all slightly, and it made you grin.

“Huh?” Mayfeld prodded after a moment. “I mean, c’mon, man, you still get to wear a helmet, right?” When Din still didn’t respond to him, he shook his head. “All right, you know what? I’m takin’ this thing off.” Reaching up he tugged off the helmet. “I can’t see anything.” He set it between him and Din and stared straight forward at the road, something in his voice going softer than before. “I don’t know how you people wear those things. And by ‘you people’, I do mean Mandalorians.”

Shortly after leaving the tunnel, your earpiece buzzed quietly with Fennec’s voice. “Phase one, complete. We’re in.”

Boba came next, all business. “Copy. Standing by.”

They went quiet after that, and you were thankful. You needed this time to try and get your head into the right mindset before going into the base.

Mayfeld kept glancing over toward Din, almost nervously. Finally he offered a quiet, “Feels better when it’s off,” gesturing toward his head where the helmet had been.

Din finally turned toward him slightly, looking at him, and the smile Mayfeld offered was nothing but relief. A smile that said, “Thank you for not killing me, I'm just trying to make conversation.”

After that Mayfeld must have been content with that response, because the cab was silent for a long while. You watched the green scenery pass by outside in a blur, startling at Din’s voice on your right.

“Mesh’la?” He wasn’t looking at you, but you nodded for him to go on anyway. “Go over the plan again for me once. Please.”

Mayfeld huffed in amusement, shaking his head as he mumbled, “The Mandalorian says please. Someone alert the Senate! Something big is goin’ on.”

Ignoring him, you leaned forward between their seats, bracing a forearm on each headrest. “We get in, I sneak to a supply closet for a disguise and get to the roof, clearing a path for the two of you….”

Leaning further forward as you trailed off, all three of you peered out the viewport at the hulls of burned out transports much like the one you were in sitting on the sides of the road. Not only were they burned out, it looked like they had exploded. Twisted metal and tires sitting in heaps.

The vehicles comms clicked on and a man’s voice said, “Juggernaut Four, you’re running a bit hot. Be sure to watch your cargo heat limits and speed.”

Another male voice clicked on, “Copy that, Three. We hit a couple bumps. Thanks for the heads up.”

“Don’t worry about the rhydonium.” Din’s voice was one he used on the kid whenever he would fuss. It seemed to work on Mayfeld as he glanced up from studying the read out for the haul. “As long as you drive steady, you’ll get us to the refinery.” Din turned his head to look at you. “Clear a path for the two of us to….”

You shook your head. “Clear a path, that’s it.” You met the gaze of his imposter helmet. “Once I’m on the roof, I’ll let Boba know, and-”

“How will you let Fett know?”

You winced as Fennec’s voice filled your ear. “Just so we’re clear, that was all you.”

“Yes, thank you, Fennec, I am aware-”

“Fennec?” Din’s voice rose as he went to get to his feet but you pushed him back down by his shoulders.

“Stop.”

“Are you wearing a-”

You tapped your ear with a small smile, keeping one hand on his shoulder. “It was my idea. I knew I’d probably need help in the base, and that way once I was up top, things could run smoother. Fennec and Cara are going to be focused on taking down any troopers in the way, they don’t need to be worried about comms. Let me worry about it.”

He went to stand again, but you wouldn’t let him, needing very little pressure to keep him seated in the awkward position of the cockpit. “Mesh’la, if they catch you, and find that earpiece, they won’t just send you to some max security prison. They are going to think you’re a spy and torture you first. You may not even make it to a prison.”

You can hear the pain in his voice. He’s scared. There wasn’t much in this galaxy that could frighten a Mandalorian, but somehow you managed to mash it all up into one situation and throw it at him when he wasn’t looking. He wasn’t just scared, you realized. He was terrified.

“I already lost the kid. Don’t make me lose you, too.”

Holding his gaze as long as you could, you appreciate somewhere in the back of your mind that Mayfeld has been quiet for so long.

“You’re not going to lose me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Mesh’la-”

“I kick ass, remember?” You tried to smile, but it was wobbly. The world began to swirl through unshed tears you tried to rapidly blink away. “I learned that from a good friend of mine. A good, good friend.” Lowering to your haunches, you took his helmet in your hands, tilting his forehead against yours. Swallowing a wave of emotion down, all you could manage was a whisper. “I learned that from you.”

Shuffling closer to him so your knees were touching his, you leaned into him a little harder, his forehead still firmly pressed to yours. “I need you to trust me. I need you to have a little faith, because I know I can do this. I need to do this. For the kid. And for me.”

Din took a deep breath in but you started talking again before he could. “No. This once, I need you to listen. I’ve done what you’ve asked since coming on the Crest, and before you start, I know, I know, you’re just trying to keep me and Gro-” You couldn’t say his name. Clearing your throat, you swallowed roughly before trying again. “To keep me and the kid safe. Now it’s my turn.”

With a sigh, Din slumped forward, his shoulders rounding in defeat. “I don’t like it.” He sighed again. “You’re right, but I don’t like it.”

“I’m sorry, did you just admit I was right?” Leaning back to look at his visor, you smirked. “Can I hear that again, a little louder please?”

Din groaned as he sat back in his chair. Bringing his hand up to rub his forehead in exasperation, he let his head thump back against the headrest then rolled it slowly to look at you. “No.”

You grinned at him. He wasn’t happy, but he was on board. Patting his knee, you pushed off of him to stand up. “Channel three. When you’re done and you need to know how to get out, channel three.”

Mayfeld kept glancing between the two of you and the road.

“What, di’kut?” You sighed, one side of your mouth quirking up when you saw Din’s shoulders shake in gentle laughter.

“Ah, nothin’,” he waved you off, returning his focus to the controls before glancing your way again. When he saw your quirked brow, he rolled his eyes. “You two together or somethin'?”

Neither you nor Din responded.

“No kiddin’!” He looked forward. “I was just joking, but,” he shrugged, “hey if it works, it works.” His fingers drummed against the controls. “The last person I had a sort of relationship with was a crazy Twi….” He grinned, his eyes darting toward Din briefly before returning to the road. “Then again, you were with her first, so what does that say about you?”

Din turned his visor on Mayfeld for the second time since getting in the vehicle. “It says the same thing that it says about you,” he grunted out. “Only difference is I corrected my mistake as fast as I could.” He turned slightly to glance at you before looking back at Mayfeld. “And luckily she was willing to make a mistake by choosing me.”

“Was it?” Mayfeld asked after a moment of silence passed, and you realized he was talking to you, face turned slightly your way to keep his eyes on the road. “A mistake?”

“I think it’s the easiest decision I ever made.”

Mayfeld huffed. “Stop dodging the question. Was it a mistake?”

“I don’t think you can make a mistake when you’re following what’s clearly the way to go.”

“Being shot at and, this is just me speculatin’ based on what I know of Mando, but spending days at a time in silence, hopping from planet to planet…. You sure that’s what you want?”

“No, that’s not what I want….” You grinned. “Good thing that’s not how it is.”

“Paint me a picture then.”

Din turned his head slightly to look at you, but didn’t say anything. He was curious what you had to say, too.

“We aren’t being shot at because we’re too busy shooting at them, for starters.” Mayfeld scoffed but you went on. “Some days I wish for silence, especially about hyperdrives, because get this man started,” you gestured to Din with your thumb, “and he won’t stop until he’s finished.” Din gently shook his head in amusement. “And as for planet hopping, yeah, that’s true. But I love that part. I’ve seen more in the last few months than in my entire life.”

“Is that it?” Mayfeld ribbed, looking over at Din quickly. “That’s all you’ve got going for you?”

You leaned over toward his chair, bracing your arms on the back near his head as you got close to his ear, talking in a low voice. “Not even close. But I don’t think that's any of your business now, is it?”

He swallowed roughly. “No, ma’am.”

You patted his shoulder lightly, making him flinch slightly as you smirked. “Good man.” Instead of standing back up in the back of the cab, you lingered near the back of his chair, leaning on your elbows on the headrest.

After a long moment Mayfeld turned to Din with wide eyes. “Look, Mando, I’m so sorry. Can we just forget about this? If I had known-”

“Would it have changed anything?” Din sighed.

Mayfeld turned back toward the road, eyes flitting between it and Din nervously. “Well no, but….” Din sighed again, making Mayfeld flounder. “Well, I would have been more sneaky about it, at least. I would have only done it behind your back, I value my life.”

Din turned to look at him slowly. “If you valued your life you would know it’s not me you have to worry about.”

Glancing up where you still leaned on his chair, Mayfeld’s mouth opened and closed wordlessly, hanging open when you finally spoke.

“Could you have been more sneaky about it with me, please? I’d rather not be privy to it either.” You didn’t bother to look down at him, staring out the viewport in boredom.

He slowly turned his head up to look at you. “Mandalorians are mean.” Shaking his head in disbelief he turned back to the road. “No, you know what? I have more to say. I….” He trailed off when he looked at you over his shoulder, spying your blaster hanging on your belt, a rifle taken from one of the drivers on your back, his eyes widening as they drifted up to find you floating a random manual hand tool from a compartment you’d found tucked beside you. He scoffed. “Oh, I’m so scared. What are you going to do, float me to death? Make me fly?” You smirked at him broadly, unhindered as the tool spun lazily above your palm. Flinching, he mumbled ‘I’m sorry’ rapidly a few times under his breath as he adjusted his weight in his seat. He faced forward again, clearing his throat before he spoke normally again. “Point taken.”

Letting the tool come to a stop, you set it back in the compartment it came from as you peered through the viewport, a small village coming into view. It reminded you of one of the first places you ever went with Din, the small town of Mos Pelgo on Tatooine.

Building’s barely bigger than the transport you were in lined the road for a short distance on either side, a handful of people milling around, going about their daily lives. While Mos Pelgo obviously had echoes of the Empire still clinging to its remote walls, this village was still steeped in Imperial influence.

No one looked happy, nothing looked cared for past the best of their abilities, which you knew was limited because of the chokehold the Empire kept them under.

Thinking of your time on Tatooine brought back memories of the kid, and any pleasant mood you’d found yourself in quickly began to melt away. Your stomach sank more as you watched Din’s head turn to watch a group of young children sitting on the edge of the road, his mind obviously somewhere along the same lines as yours.

Of course, Mayfeld couldn’t let the silence sit, but for once, you were thankful. It offered a distraction from the spiral you found yourself slipping into.

“Yeah. Empire, New Republic. It’s all the same to these people. Invaders on their land is all we are. I’m just sayin’, somewhere someone in this galaxy is ruling and others are being ruled. I mean, look at your race. Do you think all those people that died in wars fought by Mandalorians actually had a choice?” He looked over at Din, but when he didn’t actually get a reply, he went on. “So how are they any different than the Empire?” He scoffed. “Look. If you were born on Mandalore, you believe one thing, if you’re born on Alderaan, you believe somethin’ else. But guess what?” He reached out and softly tapped Din’s arm with the back of his hand. “Neither one of ‘em exist anymore.” Din actually turned to look at him, and he shrugged. “Hey. I’m just a realist. I’m a survivor, just like you.”

Din’s voice was low. “Let’s get one thing straight. You and I are nothing alike.”

“I don’t know. Seems to me like your rules start to change when you get desperate. I mean, look at ya. You said you couldn’t take your helmet off, and now you got a stormtrooper one on, so what’s the rule? Is it that you can’t take off your Mando helmet, or you can’t show your face? ‘Cause there is a difference.” When Din once again said nothing, Mayfeld went on, happy to continue talking. “Look, I’m just sayin’, we’re all the same. Everybody’s got their lines they don’t cross until things get messy.” He glanced at you over his shoulder, holding your gaze for a moment before his eyes fell to the floor then he turned back to the road and went on softly. “As far as I’m concerned, if you can make it through your day and still sleep at night, you’re doin’ better than most.”

The man’s voice clicked on over the comms of the transport again. “Control, this is Juggernaut Three. We might be comin’ up on some route interference…. Control, control! We need a new-” Blaster fire sounded over the comm before he was cut off by his own screams. They filled the cabin, bouncing off the walls of the small space before stopping all together.

Alarmed, Mayfeld sat up straighter, turning toward you then Din. “What was that?”

A female voice soon filled the cockpit, calm despite the situation. “Please stand by for reroute.”

No sooner was her voice gone than a giant fireball exploded not too far in the distance ahead of the transport.

“Juggernaut Four has been destroyed.” That same female voice, calm and collected once again announced.

Scooting forward in his seat, Mayfeld’s eyes were wide. “‘Destroyed’?”

You clutched the back of Din’s seat tightly, your fingers digging into the headrest as a wave of loss washed over you. Not for anyone you knew, but whatever had happened to cause that explosion, it sent a ripple through the Force, and almost brought you to your knees.

“Juggernaut Five, maintain speed and course. Proceed with caution-”

Mayfeld scoffed loudly, speaking over anything else the woman said. “‘Proceed with caution’? Is she serious?”

The man’s voice returned over the comm. “Control, this is Juggernaut Three. Requesting…. Abort! Abort!” Screaming once again filled the space, along with blaster fire over the comms, followed by another explosion, and this time you couldn’t help but lean forward with a small groan.

“What’s wrong?”

You waved Mayfeld off.

“Mesh’la?” Din wouldn’t let you push him away like you had your other companion. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

Taking the rifle you’d taken from the original transport guards off your back, you tossed it to the side with a clatter. It suddenly felt too heavy. Too hot, like it was burning your skin. “I’m fine. It’s just…. Loss. So much loss. I didn’t expect to-” You stumbled as Mayfeld swerved to miss the fiery remains of a transport in the road, Din reaching out to try and stabilize you from his seat, and the rifle skittered across the floor.

A thud on the back right of the transport pulled all three sets of eyes in the cockpit that direction, Mayfeld deciding to stare that way instead of at the road as he barked, “What the hell was that?”

Din looked at the little screen showing a rear view of the vehicle. “Pirates. Keep driving. I’ll take care of it.” He got to his feet and lifted the window portion of his door up. Chatter in a language you didn’t recognize drifted in from the rear of the transport where Din aimed his blaster and began shooting.

Mayfeld kept looking between the road and the Mandalorian. “Are you seriously shooting a blaster near rhydonium?”

Din must have realized the risk because he stopped shooting and just watched before pulling back into the cockpit, closing the window before he headed to the ladder. “They have thermal detonators.”

“Terrific.” Mayfeld’s dry tone made your lips quirk up.

“Of course they do.”

“Just keep it steady.” Din started up the ladder, popping the hatch once he was at the top.

“Get these guys off us! Get ‘em off us!” Any calm, cool and collected Mayfeld had disappeared and was now replaced with frantic and chaotic Mayfeld.

At the top of the ladder Din looked down at you as you started to follow him up. “No.”

You scoffed. “That gets funnier every time, Mando.”

His top half outside of the hatch, he shot at one of the pirates, and it must have landed, the thermal detonator flying off with him and detonating, sending the back of the transport swaying from side to side precariously, and setting off all kinds of alarms. Mayfeld finally got them all back within normal ranges, the red readouts finally going green once again.

“They’re trying to blow the rhydonium,” Din called down.

Mayfeld rolled his eyes. “You think?” Then as an afterthought, “You should have left me in prison!”

Din started to come down, closing the hatch as he went, but stopped short when more shouts in that same alien language sounded from the back of the transport, opening it once again. Several impacts sounded as you assumed multiples of them landed on the vehicle, making Din spring into action, climbing back up.

He paused, looking down at you where you’d begun to climb the ladder once again. “Stay.”

Looking up at him with wide eyes, you just stared for a moment before proclaiming loudly, “I am not a tooka!” But he was already gone, out on the roof, so you crossed your arms and did as he asked.

One blaster shot went off followed by multiple clicks of a blaster failing. “Oh that is not a good sound.” You’d never scrambled up a ladder so fast. You got to your feet on the roof of the transport just in time to see Din throw the faulty blaster at the pirates.

In an almost comedic moment of silence, both Din and the pirates were frozen, staring at one another, then they all leapt into action at once, two of them trying to pry open a back compartment while the one in front charged Din.

They collided in just a few steps, Din reaching out and wrestling the staff out of his enemy’s hands, using it to knock him forward with a well placed swat to the back. The pirate stumbled towards you, and you tried to step out of the way just as Din kicked him in the lower back, sending him careening the rest of the way to you. The pirate tripped over your foot that was a split second too slow getting out of the way and rolled down the front of the transport, under the wheels, making the vehicle bump violently as it ran over him.

You and Din met each other’s gaze in silence.

“Well,” you said finally. “That went well.”

Din groaned, rolling his head as he turned back to the remaining pirates.

Closing the distance between you, following him to the end of the transport, you went on, “See? You need me.”

Din turned to look toward the front of the vehicle when it hit a large bump, blocking your view of the back, and neither of you saw the pirate coming up behind him until he was smashing Din’s left pauldron with his staff, then the vambrace, making Din drop to his knee. When the pirate went to strike again, Din reached out with his left hand to catch the staff, and you took the chance to strike, punching the thug in the face.

The pirate began to wobble, looking up at the sky like he was seeing stars in the middle of the day, and Din took the opportunity, letting go of the weapon with his left hand and instead using that arm like a bar, bracing it against the thug, his other hand flipping the body up and over his shoulder, and off of the transport.

There was one left.

Reaching down to pick up the staff the last one had dropped, you flipped it in your hand to face the right way. “Hey, Mando.”

He turned to you, catching the staff when you tossed it to him, orienting it properly, then throwing it at the remaining pirate. It hit its mark, leaving the roof of the transport trespasser free.

The pirates on their little hovercraft following along behind let out a war cry.

Din turned toward the hatch, calling down to your reluctant travel companion. “Mayfeld! Pick it up. Drive faster!”

The transport lurched as Mayfeld did as he was asked, Din reaching out to help stabilize you with a hand on your elbow, and you did the same, both of you stumbling closer to one another.

“It looks like they had the same idea,” you yelled, watching as the hovercraft quickly closed the small distance you’d gained. Soft alarms blaring from the cockpit got your attention, and you took a few steps toward the hatch. “What’s going on?”

Mayfeld answered quickly, “I don’t think faster’s a good idea!”

Din tilted his head at you from where he was standing further from the hatch, as if to ask what was said.

Lowering to your haunches by the top of the hatch, you repeated, “It’s not a good idea!”

As Mayfeld slowed the transport down, it lurched once again, sending you leaning precariously, and you had to rise to your feet to get the better of the momentum pushing you toward Din.

“What are you doing?” The Mandalorian barked toward the hatch.

“Bad, bad idea,” you reiterated under your breath, catching sight of the pirate ship closing the last few feet left between them and the transport.

Din readied himself, lowering into a fight stance, sending his fist into the gut of the first pirate who approached before moving onto the next.

The momentum sent the pirate hurtling toward you, and without thinking, you slid between his legs and popped up behind him, elbowing him in the kidney like Din had taught you - well, you hoped that’s where his kidney was, they weren’t humans, but they were humanoid - and it sent him stumbling further forward.

“Get down! Down and right!”

You didn’t think twice, just did what Din said, side stepping to the right and ducking your head, and not a second later the pirate was on the ground after Din had smashed one of the staves over his head.

“Don’t you have a blaster? And what about your knife?”

You grinned. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

Out of nowhere, Din turned and punched a pirate in the face, but the one he’d knocked out in front of you was back on his feet and tackled him from behind, knocking him to the ground. As he tried to get up, the one he’d punched swung their staff at Din, and he was just able to avoid it. When they tried again, he ducked, and they ended up hitting the other pirate square in the face, each reaching out for the other to avoid falling. Once Din got back to his feet, he headbutted the one with the staff, and elbowed a third, turning to punch the one that had knocked him over off the transport.

He turned to the side and couldn’t see you. “Mesh’la!”

“I’m right here!” You yelled from right behind him, making him whirl around, sighing in relief. “I have to get out of sight. We’re getting close to the base. They’ll notice someone out of uniform.”

He nodded. “Go. I’ve got this.”

Your eyes went wide. “Duck!”

As he dropped to the ground in front of you, a staff came hurtling through the air, narrowly missing him even in his crouched state. Leaning back out of the way, you avoided being hit yourself, pulled it out of the ground by your feet, and charged the pirate quickly closing in on you. Whacking him in the head once, you spun to avoid a vibrio blade he pulled, bringing the staff down on his hand to make him drop it. Spinning the other way, you swiped the staff against his legs, knocking them out from under him and sweeping him down onto his back with a thud. As he tried to scramble back up, scooting back on his elbows and pushing with his feet, you stood up and gave him a shove with the staff, sending him flying off the edge of the transport.

Turning to Din, your eyes wide, you rolled your head sarcastically. “Yeah. You’ve got this. Clearly!”

Before he could get to his feet, a pirate came up behind him, grabbed him, and flipped him onto his back, holding his head over the edge of the vehicle.

“Where are you all coming from?!” You grumbled.

You took a few steps toward Din, but he stopped you, pointing behind you as he struggled against his captors. Turning, you saw a lone pirate prying open the rhydonium storage at the end of the transport and setting a thermal detonator.

You sighed. “It never ends.”

Din started struggling more and headbutting, one of his captors going flying over the edge, so you focused on the lone man at the end.

Breaking into a sprint, you closed the distance in a few quick strides, using the Force for a little extra and launching, taking the pirate down like you did the guard on Corvus, wrapping your legs around his shoulders and using the momentum to pull him down. Grabbing the thermal detonator in the process, you sent the pirate flying with a kick to the back and threw the detonator after him.

The fireball sent each hovercraft into another explosion, a chain reaction of heat making the transport veer wildly.

The blast sent you and Din back, both of you landing in a heap of limbs, you against his chest. “I’m so glad you’re not in beskar right now. That would hurt.”

He was groaning. “I had it under control.”

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously.”

“Uh, Mando, I gotta stop. I can’t cross at this speed.” Oh yeah. You’d forgotten about Mayfeld.

Din was pushing you to your feet just as more hovercrafts appeared, all of the pirates clicking on their thermal detonators and letting out war cries. “Go. Go!”

You pushed his hands away from you. “I’m not leaving you!”

Grabbing your wrists, he stopped you, and made you look at him straight on. “No, you’re not. Now go.”

Nodding, you pulled back toward the hatch, taking one final look toward Din over the edge before you’d let yourself drop back in.

He sighed and stood up, lowering into a fight stance just as green streaks rained down from the sky, making him jump and duck his head, the scream of TIE fighters following soon after.

You ducked into the cockpit as the TIEs flew overhead, turning to watch them through the viewport.

Mayfeld let out a cry of triumph, pumping his fist in the air. “Whoo!”

“Woah, woah, hands on the controls, di’kut.” You patted his shoulder condescendingly, grinning at his annoyed glare shot your way that quickly melted into a grin to match your own.

As the base loomed large in front of the transport, you peered up at its massive walls, swarms of troopers pouring out of every opening to aid in the recovery of their haul. Melting back into the shadows of the cab, you watched troopers of all types manifest before your eyes.

Din dropped down beside you. Making his way to his seat slowly, his movement stilted, he groaned with each step, and let out one long moan when he finally sat.

Mayfeld looked at all the troopers with awe. “Never thought you’d be happy to see stormtroopers.” Maintaining his cover, he offered them a salute.

“Never thought they’d be able to hit something.”

Both men chuckled at your response, Din moaning with the effort.

Reaching out you put a hand on the back of Din’s shoulder to keep your hand concealed to anyone looking through the viewport, focusing on his pain, his injuries, letting your energy flow into him and pulling on the negative energy radiating out of every wound. You could feel him slowly relaxing as each bruise healed, skin knit back together, and bones found their way back to their original positions.

Until his breath hitched in his chest. “That’s new,” he mumbled lowly.

“Ahsoka mentioned it while you were sleeping. Explained how Gr- the kid did it, so I thought I’d try. Never quite been able to, but I’ve been practicing. Especially since…. Since he….” You swallowed roughly. “Since Tython.” Patting his shoulder once, you withdrew your hand, stepping further back in the cockpit. “Something clicked.”

Pressing all the way to the back of the cab, you mumbled into the earpiece, “We’re in. I’ll let you know when I’m at the top. Have to wait for a clear spot to get out of here and then find a disguise.”

Boba’s voice came back all business. “Copy that.”

“Got it. We’re in position, ready when you are,” Fennec added.

As the transport pulled into the base, you tucked back into the shadows of the cockpit. Pulling on something you’d never thought to try before, you manipulated the air around you to make you only appear as a shadow to anyone taking a closer look. It seemed to be working as one stormtrooper did a double take, looking right at you before moving on, satisfied that he’d only seen a trick of the light.

Din pretended to be fiddling with something between him and Mayfeld, messing with his armor, and taking a step closer to you as his companion disembarked the vehicle to rounds of applause. He looked right at you, standing directly in front of you and reaching beside your head with his right hand to fiddle with a panel, appearing busy to anyone looking in. He was too smart to be fooled by your shadow play, able to see you plainly, tilting his head slightly when you looked up to meet his gaze through the trooper helmet.

“I’m assuming you’re doing something so they can’t see you?”

You nodded. Concealing your form was one thing. Hiding your voice was another.

“Will you be able to maintain it?”

You only hesitated a moment before nodding, but he caught it, and sighed heavily.

“Mesh’la….”

Opening your eyes wide, pleading with him to trust you, you reached just a little further, speaking into his mind for only a moment.

“Everything will be fine, Din.” His breath caught in his chest at the sound of your voice in his head. “I can do this. Now go and find the kid.”

Din leaned forward just enough to touch his forehead to yours briefly, making your breath hitch.

“Do that again when you’re back in beskar. This is just…. Weird.”

He chuckled softly at your voice once again lilting into his consciousness. When he pulled back, withdrawing his hand from the panel beside you, he lightly trailed gloved fingers over the top of your shoulder and down through the ends of your hair. “I’m gonna go find our kid,” he mumbled. “Don’t get caught.”

Our kid. I’m gonna go find our kid. Our.

You couldn’t help the grin pulling up the corners of your mouth. “See you at the end, Tin Can.”

Xxx

It didn’t take long for the crowd to disperse once Din disembarked the transport. They all moved around Mayfeld and the Mandalorian as one body, congratulating them on a job well done for the Empire, giving you ample room to slip out unnoticed and make it to a dark corner, still using the Force to help conceal your presence.

It was the same principle as causing misdirection with sound, only this was misdirection with visual cues, causing shadows and light to bend a little differently than they normally would, making a person's mind fill in the blanks with something they expected to see instead of what they actually saw.

Not difficult to do, but a long one to maintain. Which is why you needed to find a disguise fast. You had already felt a large drain when you had healed Din, plus all the little things to show off and mess with Mayfeld, your battery was starting to run on low…. But there wasn’t time for that. You couldn’t stop, not until Grog- the kid was safe.

You’d almost said his name.

For the third time today alone you’d almost said his name.

Sure, when you were with other people, it was fine, you could distract yourself, forget about it, and move on.

But by yourself….

By yourself, here, in the camp of the enemy that held him…. With nowhere to hide and no one to hide behind, no one who understood, or tried to and said they did….

That made everything bubble up in you all over again, everything you had been working so hard to tamp down, to ignore for days…. It was just under the surface again, and it was angry.

Suddenly a new wave of energy washed over you, and you felt your jaw set determinedly.

This was for the ki-

For Grogu.

Let’s go.

You saw someone walking nearby. Stepping into their path, you held your ground when they stopped, pulling their gaze up to meet yours. "I need your help.” The woman looked alarmed, her face quickly screwing into anger when she realized you weren’t base personnel. Reaching out, you put a hand on her shoulder. "Stay calm."

"I'm calm." Her voice was monotonous, her features flat as she fell under your suggestion.

"You're going to show me a supply closet with uniforms then forget you saw me."

"I'm going to-"

"Now!'

"Now."

Boba began laughing over the comm in your ear as you followed the soldier with your head down. “Oh, that's gotta come in handy. Have a few people I need you to meet….”

You rolled your eyes.

In just a few short steps you were at the supply closet, about to send the officer on her way with no memory of your encounter. But then you realized all of the spare uniforms were troopers, none with a high enough ranking to get you where you needed. Turning to the woman, you saw her high level clearance badge and made a split second decision.

“Get in the closet.”

She did what you asked without question.

“I need to borrow your uniform and clearance card.”

The tiny space, close quarters, the unneeded pressure on you knowing their exit counted on you getting a coat…. Everything started to spin slowly.

The officer wasn’t moving quickly enough for you. “Hurry!”

Your control must have slipped in your haste, because the officer suddenly stopped, shaking her head as if to clear a fog, and looked at you with wide eyes. After a short stare off she reached for her comm, but only was able to click it on briefly. “This is Officer Leraay! I need help in the supply closet on level one! I repeat, I need-”

But she stopped, dropping the comm and suddenly clawing at her throat with eyes wide as she gasped for air. It wasn’t until her wild gaze fell on you that you realized you were the one causing her to choke.

“Officer Leraay? Are you there? Which supply closet, there are a few….” The comm buzzed a muffled reply on the floor.

Leaning close to the officer's face, you spoke quickly and quietly. “I’m going to stop, and you’re going to tell them it was a false alarm.”

The officer's eyes were defiant, but she nodded.

Releasing whatever hold you hadn’t even realized you’d had on her, she gasped for air, scooping down to pick up the comm. “F-” she coughed wildly. “False alarm. The door was ajar on closet three, I thought we had some mischief makers, but I checked it out. All’s well.”

“Want me to send backup to guard the door in case it was someone and you just scared them off for now?”

Officer Leraay looked into your eyes confidently once again. “Yes. Please do. Long live the Empire.”

The comm clattered to the floor as she reached to grab at your forearm that was now wrapped around her neck from behind. She scrambled against your chokehold, gasping for air, and…. Laughing?

“You rebels are so….” She grunted. “So stupid. It’ll never work.”

“I’m not a rebel,” you hissed in her ear. “I’m a bartender.”

You let her fall to the floor in a heap when she finally passed out. “And it’s working just fine.”

Fennec’s laugh filled your ear. “Wait, that story you told Mayfeld was true? You’re actually a bartender?”

Pulling the uniform off the officer, you sighed. “Yup. Born and raised on Coruscant, and worked in that bar since before I was old enough to legally serve alcohol.”

“You owe me a drink sometime. It’s been a while since I’ve had an honest to goodness drink I didn’t want to throw in someone’s face instead of enjoy.”

“You got it,” you huffed, pulling on the regulation cap. Poking your head out of the door and checking both ways, you mumbled as you started down the hallway, “I almost said Mandalorian instead of bartender.”

“Why didn’t you?” Boba’s voice made your steps falter for a moment before you pressed on, turning left to go up a set of stairs.

“Uh, because I’m not?” Stopping at a dead end with two options to turn, you sighed. “I need directions. Left or right?”

A moment passed as the beep of the holo projector sounded from Boba’s end. “Left.” Turning that way, another set of stairs appeared and you took them, winding up higher and higher toward the roof. “What makes someone a Mandalorian? Beskar? You’ve got that. A signet? Got that, too. A clan? A purpose? Tenacity? A sense of honor and a Creed?”

“You can stop anytime….” Another dead end. “These bases are laid out like a womp rat’s brain…. Left again?”

“Right.” You started to turn to the left but pulled up short when Boba huffed in amusement. “No, right.” Rolling your eyes with a sigh, you turned and went the opposite way.

Boba chuckled softly to himself, mumbling about your womp rat's brain comment. Some more beeps. “This right, then another, then stay straight until you see another staircase and that one will take you to the roof.” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you, walking past a group of stormtroopers. “I’m just listing things I know about you, ad’ika.”

Turning the next right, you came face to face with two troopers guarding the door to the hallway you needed, making you pull back and lean against the corner you just came around, your head thumping back against the wall. “Hang on. Gotta take care of something.” Adjusting the uniform, you held your head high and went to walk straight through the doorway.

“Halt.” One of the troopers held out a hand, stopping you from going any further. “Authorized personnel only.”

You scoffed. “I’m aware, trooper. Which is why I’m trying to get through. I am authorized personnel.”

“Gonna need to see some ID. Chain code?”

Nodding, you went to lift your arm for him to scan, but right as he brought the scanner down, you twisted and gripped his forearm, turning your body and slamming your back into his chest.

He hit the wall next to the door with thud, his armor letting out an exaggerated hiss from the impact, almost a high pitched whine, and it made the corner of your mouth quirk up briefly. The trooper let out an oomph but it was cut short when you flipped him over like Din had the pirate you’d punched on top of the transport, and he landed at your feet in a moaning pile of limbs.

“Stop!” The other trooper was shouting, aiming and taking shots with his blaster, but thoroughly missing you every time.

“Knew it was too good to be true,” you mumbled as his fifth shot ricocheted off the wall feet from your head, the next two bouncing safely away from your sides as he continued to miss from mere steps away.

Flicking the blaster out of his hand with a wave of your own, you turned on him, pushing him back into the wall and keeping him pinned there with an unseen force.

As the first trooper tried to get up, drawing his blaster, you swiped it from his hand before whacking him on the back of the head with the butt of the weapon, and sending him crashing to the floor in an unconscious heap.

Turning to his friend still struggling against the wall, you got close to his face. “Are there any more guards stationed on the way to the roof?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Oh great, a personality.” You pressed him further into the wall, taking a step closer yourself. “Are there any more guards?”

“I-”

“Ah-ah-ah,” you scolded playfully, a sly smile turning up your features as you wagged a finger in front of his helmet in admonishment. “Be completely honest, now.”

“I will be completely honest,” he droned.

You gestured for him to continue after a moment of silence. “Go on.”

“No.”

Smiling sweetly at the trooper, you nodded once in approval. “Thank you.”

Releasing your hold on him, he slumped down the wall, stumbling forward and leaving himself perfectly open for you to reach out and smash him in the back of the head with the butt of the blaster like you had the first, sending him down beside his friend.

“Are you done?” Boba’s dry tone made you roll your eyes.

“Would you have done better?” He chuckled at your sarcasm. Getting back to the conversation from before, you tugged the troopers just out of sight then continued down the hallway. “I have no Creed, old man.”

“I’m not that ol-” He sighed heavily, making you grin as he went on. “You’ve sworn to protect your Mandalorian and that child, have you not?”

You stayed silent, taking the last turn and set of stairs.

“As I thought.” Boba’s amused tone made the corner of your mouth twitch up. “You’ve sworn your own Creed. You are Mandalorian. Just like the shiny one said.”

Fennec chimed in quietly, her tone smug. “You’re also more than a Mandalorian to Mando, but that’s another discussion we don’t have time for right now.”

“She has all the time in the world. She just has to make it to the roof. Please, go on.”

Their quiet laughter filled your ear as you took the last hallway, staying straight and flying up the last set of stairs. “Now guys? Really? Can we do group therapy later?”

They just kept laughing, making you shake your head as you pushed open the door to the roof. “I’m on top.”

“Is it clear?”

“It’s about to be,” you mumbled, pulling off the officer’s uniform and rolling your shoulders once you were back to your base layers, glad to be back to yourself.

“Can you do this without any weapons?”

“Oh, absolutely, old man. The question is, what will you give me?”

“Won’t you simply enjoy the pride of a job well done?”

“No,” you said simply, kicking the uniform to the side. “I need-”

Alarms started blaring around the base, a male voice monotonously announcing over the speakers, “Security to main commons. Security to main commons.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, you let your forehead fall onto your forearms where they were braced on the wall you crouched behind. “Really guys?”

“How do you know it wasn’t someone finding the troopers you left behind that set off the alarm?”

Slinking up behind a group of troopers who still hadn’t scrambled into anything resembling a formation, you got close to the nearest one, tapping him on the shoulder. “When I get back on your ship,” you punched the trooper when he turned around, dropping him to the ground. “I’m going to hold you down,” sticking out your right leg you swiped the legs of the trooper next to the first before he could react, “and show you how a bartender expresses annoyance.” Pulling your arm back forcefully, you elbowed the trooper trying to sneak up on you, sending him to the ground.

Boba laughed. “Can’t wait.”

Another trooper got the jump on you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and keeping yours pinned at your sides. You tried to shrug out of his hold, but it wasn’t working. Reaching your leg up you twisted just enough to pull your knife out of your boot and swipe at the troopers forearms. He recoiled with a yelp, letting you go and you whirled around to face him, blinking rapidly when he dropped suddenly.

Fennec’s soft voice came over your comm. “You’re welcome.”

You never even heard the shot. How far away were they?

“Thanks,” you mumbled, tucking the knife back in your boot. “Now, old man, back to what I was saying.”

“You mean threatening?”

“Did Mando ever tell you about the time I blew up an alley?”

“That’s not a threat, nau ki’bas’ika, that’s amusing.” (“Little light bug.”)

Growling in aggravation, you charged another trooper, taking him down like the last pirate on the transport. It was your new favorite move, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Din kept making comments about it. Nothing at all, you thought with a smirk.

Leaping into the air at the last minute, you wrapped your legs around his shoulders, pulled him down, took his blaster and flipped it to stun before you dropped another three troopers nearby.

“That still counts as a weapon.”

“No. No, it’s not one of mine so it doesn’t count.”

“That makes no sense, nau ki’bas’ika, but okay. By those rules you used your knife, so….” He tisked.

“Kriff,” you muttered, throwing the blaster on the ground out of the reach of the troopers. “Dank farrik.”

“What? What did I miss?” Din’s voice crackling over the comm made you stop in your tracks, everything else falling away as you focused on the sounds of his breathing. It was labored, there was blaster fire, and Mayfeld was screeching like a drowning Wookie, but they were alive. “Mesh’la?”

“Nothing. Everything.” You smiled. “I’ll fill you in later.”

“Your little riddur has just lost a bet,” Boba explained gleefully. (“Partner.”)

Another shot whizzed by you, making you spin to follow the bolt, a trooper dropping mere feet away from you. “South wall, halfway up.”

“Fennec!” You cried exasperatedly. “Thank you, again, but can you give me a little warning please?”

“Don’t keep getting caught, then.” It sounded like she was trying not to laugh. “Drop.”

You did as she said with a groan of annoyance, ignoring the chuckle she finally let loose as a trooper thudded on the hard ground right beside you.

“They’re like bugs! Where are they all coming from?!”

“Stay down.”

You’d begun to get up but dropped back onto your stomach, covering your head with your hands. Several shots fired in succession, then silence. Turning to look over your shoulder, you thought better of it and stopped, shaking your head as you got back to your feet. “I’m not even gonna look.”

“You’re welcome…. Again.”

“Yeah, yeah, I owe you a drink, Fennec, I know.”

“A good one.”

“The best.”

All the joking fell out of her tone. “We’re on. Start your run.”

The beeps of the console and the engine firing up filled your ear as Boba confirmed, “On my way.”

“Fennec, you and Cara focus on them. I’ve got it covered up here.”

“Well, we’ve got it covered down here,” Din’s voice countered.

“Too bad, Tin Can. Fennec, help them.”

“Sorry, Mando. She’s promised me a drink.”

Din groaned in understanding. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Sorry you didn’t get to take the quiet way out,” you offered Din, running to the edge of the roof.

He huffed out a laugh. “That’s okay. We’re taking the scenic route.”

“The scenic route?!” Mayfeld’s voice boomed in your ear, making you wince. “Was this always the plan? Because I was not included in these discussions.”

“Oh, you mean like I wasn’t included in that whole thing you just pulled down there in the main commons?” Din’s tone was dry.

Mayfeld chuckled nervously. “Look, I got us out in one piece, didn’t I?”

“That’s still being proven,” you mumbled. Helping Din and Mayfeld up over the edge onto the roof, you all ducked when a new wave of troopers began shooting at your small group.

One of the troopers tried to sneak around to the side but was quickly dropped by your friends sniping on the ridge.

“Osik! Di’kut!” You hissed. (“Shit!”) (“Idiot!”)

Mayfeld turned to you. “What?”

You looked at him wide eyed. “Oh. Sorry, no I-” you waved your hands as you explained, ducking further below the outcropping the three of you had dodged behind as more shots bounced off the top. “I meant ‘shit, these troopers are idiots’.”

He nodded. “Oh.” Then shook his head and stared at you. “What?”

It took you a second, but you stood up once the blaster fire slowed, running for the edge when you heard Boba’s ship approaching. “Have I ever mentioned how smart you are?”

Mayfeld’s steps stuttered. “Huh?”

You stared at the tree line far below with wide eyes before schooling your features and turning back to face him. “Yeah! Mando mentioned you thought of that plan to stall in the main commons. Brilliant move, di’kut. Brilliant.”

He smiled. “Oh, you liked that, huh?”

You turned back toward the edge as Boba’s ship flew over, the ramp lowering. “Mmmm…. It was a plan.” Running at a full sprint, you stepped up onto the edge and leapt across the gap onto the lowered ramp of Boba’s ship.

Turning once you found your footing, you held out a hand toward the two men, yelling over the roar of the engines. “Jump! I’ve got you!”

Din was the first to jump across, not even hesitating.

And to his credit, neither did Mayfeld, but he did let out a terrified yell the whole way across. Din helped him up and further into the ship as Boba began to fly off.

Mayfeld paused, turning back to the base with a haunted look before motioning toward Din. “Hand me that cycler rifle.”

You knew that look on Mayfeld’s face. You saw it every time you looked in any reflective surface lately. He was fighting his demons.

Din handed him the rifle leaning just inside Boba’s ship, and looked at you with a shrug.

You watched as a Mayfeld lifted the rifle, braced it against his shoulder, and took aim.

With a single shot he took out one of the transports filled with rhydonium parked on the roof, making it explode in a ball of fire and causing a chain reaction that left the base in flames.

“Nice shot,” Fennec mused in your ear, and you could hear Cara’s bewildered hum of agreement from somewhere beside her.

Mayfeld turned to head into the ship, pausing in front of Din and meeting his visor. “We all need to sleep at night.”

Din turned to face you, finding you staring down at the base with your arms crossed over your chest. “Come on, mesh’la. We need to go and strap in.”

“It’s my fault.”

He took a step closer, his chest brushing along your shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“The officer I got the uniform from, I…. I knocked her out, left her in a closet. Now with the base going up, I…. She may have gotten out if she wasn’t unconscious, or at least had the chance to run, but because of me…. If I hadn’t….”

“Hey, get your asses in here and strapped down.” Mayfeld yelled to be heard over the roar of the wind rushing around the open ramp. “They’ll be sending TIE fighters soon.”

Turning, you walked side by side with Din, his hand on your lower back as you went to the first two available seats, Din beside Mayfeld and you across from both of them, quickly strapping in.

Boba’s voice came over the comms, “We got company.” Alarms were blaring. “Hang on.”

As the ship took a sharp turn, Din grunted, his arms flailing comically in the abrupt gravity shift.

“It’s not your fault,” he ground out.

“What’s not?” Mayfeld asked.

“She thinks that if the guard she got the uniform from dies in the fire you set because she was unconscious and unable to move, that it was her fault.”

Mayfeld turned to you with knit brows, groaning as Boba took another sharp turn. “No, no, that’s all me. It would be my fault. I set the fire.”

“But I-”

“Doesn’t matter,” he cut you off. “It’s mine. You can’t take it from me. I own that.” The ship evened out, and he sighed in relief. “You worry about that little green guy. Yeah, him and brown eyes over here.” He jerked his head toward Din. “Let me worry about that other stuff.”

“Brown eyes, huh?” You narrowed your brows at Din.

“I’ll explain later,” he said so lowly you barely heard him.

Xxx

You stayed in the main area of the ship, reattaching your weapons to your belt while Din and Mayfeld changed back into their own clothes.

Of course Mayfeld was ready long before Din was, since he didn’t have all the armor to put back on. He sidled up to you with a small smile, watching you polish your blaster before seating it back in its holster.

You opened your mouth to say something but stopped and shook your head.

“What?” He asked curiously.

“No, no, never mind.” You waved him off.

“What?” He laughed over the words. “What is it?”

“You said you didn’t want to hear Mando’a ever again.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged and rolled his eyes, “it’s grown on me.”

You grinned. “Burc'ya vaal burk'yc, burc'ya veman.” He narrowed his eyebrows at you. “You want me to translate?” (“A friend during danger is a true friend.”)

He thought for a moment, looking down at the ground before he smiled. “Nah.” Pulling his eyes up to yours, it was the first truly friendly, open, and honest expression you’d seen on his face since meeting him days ago. “Nah, I’m good.” He leaned in closer to you, his voice lowering near a whisper. “I think I get the gist.” Standing up straight, Mayfeld’s face took on a mischievous look. “Hey, Mando! Your girl here just professed her undying love for me!” Sending a wink your way, Mayfeld was grinning from ear to ear.

“Yeah?” Mando called from around the corner where he was still attaching his armor.

“Yeah! What are ya gonna do about it?”

“Well….” He came around the corner, adjusting his vambraces. “Killing you sounds like the obvious first step.”

“Me?” Mayfeld asked in shock. “What about her?”

Din shrugged. “Everybody makes mistakes.”

Glowering at Mayfeld, you reached out and shoved his shoulder. “That’s the last time I’m nice to you.”

“No, don’t say that,” he grinned, starting down the ramp. He paused, turning to face you one more time. “But, just…. Will you answer me one thing that’s been bothering me?”

You sighed. “I’ll try.”

“Why’s the little green guy so important to you? I mean besides him?” Mayfeld pointed at Din.

“She’s his buir,” Boba said, walking past from the cockpit and down the ramp. He paused halfway down, turning to clarify, “He’s her son.” (“Mother.”)

Mayfeld’s head snapped back from Boba to you, looking you up and down quickly, eyes wide. “Your…. Are you a changeling or somethin’?”

Boba came back in, hooked a finger inside the front of Mayfeld’s shirt and dragged him down the ramp.

“So how old are you really? ‘Cause I could have sworn….” Mayfeld trailed off when Boba turned to him with an arched brow. “….that you didn’t look a day over….” The second brow shot up. “….the weather is great here, isn’t it?”

“I take it back,” you mumbled, watching Boba pull him down the ramp. “There may be some disagreement over whether it’s Cara or Boba that ends up doing him in.”

As his voice trailed off once they were near the bottom of the ramp, you turned to Din. “Why’d he call you brown eyes?”

Din sighed the heaviest sigh you’d ever seen him give. “I had to remove my helmet for the scanner to scan my face.” He just stared at your wide eyed expression before he went on. “Then one of the higher ranking officers roped us into drinks before I could get it back on. To cover for me, Mayfeld said everyone just called me brown eyes.” He saw the smile starting to turn up your face, and held up a finger in warning. “No. Don’t even start.”

“Oh, yes. That’s going into my rotation.” You reached out to place your hand on his forearm. “But, Din…. You showed your face. What does that mean?”

“I…. I don’t know. Technically the machine isn’t a living being, so it doesn’t count, and if you want all the loopholes, it wasn’t my helmet, all the others who saw me are dead-”

“Except Mayfeld.”

“I can fix that.” His hand went to his blaster.

You laughed. Really laughed, head tossed back and eyes shut for the first time in weeks. “No, Din.”

He groaned in annoyance. “He handed me the helmet back at the end and told me he never saw my face, so I guess I owe him, anyway.”

Both of you started down the ramp. “So how were drinks with an Imp?”

Din grunted, making you laugh. “Didn’t even get to finish my drink.”

You smirked, thinking back to all the times at the bar he’d slide you his drink when his contact would never show. “That’s nothing new.”

Cara was talking to Mayfeld a few feet from the bottom of the ramp.

“The saber get you?” Cara laughed.

Mayfeld just blinked at her. “What saber? Did you see the look she gave me? Also, she must be a changeling, because scary green Mando said-”

Cara whacked him on the back of the head. “She’s a Jedi, you idiot.”

“Oh, great, a Mandalorian and a wizard. What a lovely couple.”

“Gets the job done,” you mumbled close to his ear, making him jump in surprise. “And no, I’m not a changeling, di’kut. Not all families are made. Some are found.”

Nodding, Mayfeld turned to Din. “Well, looks like it’s back to the scrap heap.��

Din sighed. “Thank you for helping.”

Mayfeld turned to you, pointing at the Mandalorian. “You’re good for him. Keep doing whatever it is you’re doing. You make him better.” He looked back at Din with a grin, lifting his hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Yeah. Uh, good luck gettin’ your kid back.” Turning to Cara with a smirk, he held out his hands cupped together like they were bound. “All right, Officer, take me back.”

Cara’s expression was tight as she studied him for a moment. “That was some nice shootin’ back there.”

Arching a brow at Cara, you made your way back up the ramp, leaning on the opening at the top like you had at the junkyard.

“Oh, you saw that? Yeah, that, uh, that wasn’t part of the plan.” He shrugged, a pleased grin tugging up one side of his mouth. “I, uh…. I was just gettin’ some stuff off my chest.”

Letting out a huff through her nose, Cara rolled her eyes as she turned to face Din, making it look like the sarcastic movement of her eyes had set her body in motion. “You know, it’s too bad Mayfeld didn’t make it out alive back there.”

Din nodded. “Yeah, too bad.”

Looking between them, Mayfeld looked alarmed. “What are you talkin’ about?”

Cara glanced at him and sighed heavily before trying again, her tone tight as she spelled it out. “Looked to me like prisoner number three-four-six-six-seven died in the refinery explosion on Morak.”

His eyes shot open wide. “Does that mean I can go?” He looked between them. “Huh? ‘Cause I will.”

You started laughing softly before yelling at him playfully. “Oh, get out of here already!”

Mayfeld turned to look at you, grinning at your raised eyebrows before turning back to the other two, and taking a step back when Din jerked his head to the side to motion him away. “All right. Okay.” He chuckled, walking gingerly at first, as if they would take it all back, then his steps turned stilted for a few strides before he broke into a brisk walk. He looked over his shoulder once, meeting your gaze with a confident grin as he came to a stop. “Bye, mesh’la.”

Din took a step toward him, hand on his blaster, making Mayfeld take another quick step away, holding his hands up in surrender as he smirked.

“I’m goin’, I’m goin’.” Looking at you one more time, he winked, then turned and started walking quickly again.

“Bye, di’kut,” you called after him.

He froze, shaking his head gently, but didn’t turn around, just kept going and disappeared over the ridge.

You turned toward Din, finding him looking at you with his head tilted in question. “What? You know what it means.” You smirked, pushing off the wall and heading into the ship. “He still doesn’t.” Laughter began to bubble out of your chest. “But I wish I could be there when he finally does figure it out. I would pay good money to see the look on his face.” You walked past Fennec. “Now about that drink I owe you….”

Xxx

It was the end of the whole mission. You had the coordinates, and were on your way through hyperspace to recruit more help.

But for now, you just needed to rest your eyes…. Just for a moment…. All the little uses of the Force today had caught up with you, and the physical exertion of fighting a wave of troopers….

“We’re recording,” Boba said softly, pushing a button on the small control panel Din had been sitting at on the way to Morak.

You let your eyes drift shut as you listened to Din’s voice while he recorded his message to Gideon. His threat to Gideon. His promise.

“Moff Gideon. You have something I want. You may think you have some idea what you are in possession of, but you do not. Soon, he will be back with me. He means more to me than you will ever know.”

Xxx

Turning, you strode out of the cantina, ignoring Din’s calls at your back.

“Mesh’la!”

Finally a gloved hand wrapped around your elbow, pulling you to a stop, but not before you ripped your arm out of his hold.

Rounding on him, you turned to stare at his visor with a flat expression. “What?”

But you found no one there. Instead you were in a black void, surrounded by mist creeping in all around, the thick haze closing in on all sides as you turned to try and find a way of escape.

As the fog curled around you, its tendrils wrapping around like fingers, it took on a soft green glow, and a faint hum you couldn’t quite place filled the air.

It dawned on you just as the haze parted to show you a tiny little silhouette you’d recognize anywhere.

A saber. The hum was a saber.

“Kid!” You called, running toward the shadow, but just as you reached him, bending down to scoop him up, the figure evaporated into more green mist, falling through your fingertips as you stared at your empty hands.

A gloved hand on your shoulder pulled your attention away. You turned to Din, but you wouldn’t look up. Somehow you knew his helmet was off, so you screwed your eyes shut and kept your face turned down just to be safe.

“Open your eyes, mesh’la.”

You’d heard his voice unmodulated many times, but for some reason, this time it caught you off guard, and you couldn’t find the words to respond.

You pulled away just a bit, mouth opening and closing but nothing came out. Your eyebrows narrowed in confusion, eyes still tightly closed.

Din reached up and put his gloved hands over yours on his face gently, pressing them down, threading his fingers through yours and clutching them tightly, the leather of his gloves creaking as he did. He spoke quietly, his voice almost a whisper as he said it again, almost pleadingly.

“Open your eyes.”

Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter open, finding the courage to lift them.

The world began the shake gently, Din evaporating in front of you just like the kid had, turning to mist between your fingertips.

“Mesh’la.”

How could you still hear his voice? What-

“Mesh’la, wake up. You’re going to get a stiff neck if you sleep there.” A hand on your shoulder shook you gently.

Blinking your eyes open, quickly squinting under the low lights of the hull of Boba’s ship, you groaned softly, screwing them shut once again as you lightly shoved Din away with a hand on his chest. “Go away.”

He chuckled softly, scooping you up and carrying you with one hand under your knees, the other around your back. “Good thing I’m not deterred so easily.”

“I was having such a strange dream….” You grumbled into his neck as you tucked your face further into his cowl to hide from any remaining light trying to wake you up.

“Want to talk about it?” He sat on the floor in a secluded corner of the main hull with a groan, his back leaning against the wall as he situated you in his lap, holding you close.

You smiled as memories of the early days of your adventures came back, almost exactly this same position against some rocks on Tatooine.

“It was green, and foggy, and…. You were there. The kid, too. But not really. You were both apparitions. You took off your helmet and told me to open my eyes….” Din froze underneath you, his thumbs lightly tracing patterns on your arms stuttering before beginning their lazy draw again. “I’m sure it was just a weird manifestation of everything that happened on Morak. Just my brain processing everything…. Brown Eyes.”

Din huffed out a laugh. “Probably.”

You yawned. “I’m going to go back to sleep now, if that’s okay.” Burrowing further into his neck, you frowned when you felt him adjust your head slightly, but smiled when you felt the cool touch of beskar lightly kiss your forehead before he tucked your head back where you’d had it.

“Sleep, mesh’la.” His voice was low, and almost there himself. “Sleep.”

Xxx

Tags to come!

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charlidos · 2 months

Text

(Painting by Viggo, from the book "Sign Language", 2002.)

Back in the day, I didn't partake in any of the discussions around the LotR Fellowship and their intense, collective bromance. So I'm sure a lot of my current musings have been covered many times over before. But most of those discussions are gone, in forums long lost.

So, I'm really curious, what was the theory back then about this painting? I would love to know if there is an idea what O and H might stand for, (if not Orlando and Henry). The only thing I can think of, is O=oxygen and H=hydrogen. Since there are trees and nature pictured, and they need those...

But it does feels like such an improbable coincidence, that he would paint such a picture, with those letters, when he was in NZ and that it would be just random. (And there are couple more paintings with that O in it. Does it mean oxygen there too? Hmm.)

If we go with my idea, it could be an image of two trees in Viggo's life, sturdy and rooted. One being his son (H), the most important person in his life at that time. The other being Orlando (O), a new tree, but still a pillar of his world (or something cliche like that). Each tree has branches with some added pictures hanging from them, but it's unclear what they are. Or maybe Viggo is the tree, and Henry and Orlando are branches on HIS tree? I fail to fully read the words written, so they are no help. And I get no further in my interpretation.

If this is what Viggo intended, their story immediately becomes that epic, extremely romantic and tragic story it already is in my mind. Because if Orlando meant that much to him at that time, and they later lost touch, it's such misery.

And yeah, I'm writing romance novels in my head now. Or, poor 19th century romantic poetry. Or Viggo/Orlando fanfiction. Sappy, angsty and unbetaed. But quite intriguing and entertaining.

An added "evidence" of my theory:

This tattoo on Viggo's wrist, the letter "H" is for Henry, his son.

With this in mind, and how Viggo said back then that Henry was the most important person in his life, it's hard to come to any other conclusion than that the "H" in the painting is also for Henry.

And then it seems logical that the "O" should also be short for someone's name. I can't think of any other O in Viggo's life at that time...

However, when presented in a magazine back then, it's written that this painting is called "OH". It's a possibility I didn't consider before, that you can read O and H together and make an "oh!", like an exclamation. But then H doesn't stand for Henry, and I still think Henry is the most likely interpretation. And so, yeah.

( if you feel like joining me in this insanity, please. It's a little lonely diving into very, very old fandoms. I love comments and theories and discussions. )

#orlando bloom #viggorli #viggo mortensen #help can't stop

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trashlie · 1 year

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Manifesting Stalkyoo~

Just to get it out of the way: PLEASE KNOW THIS IS ALL IN GOOD FUN! I don’t want anyone to take this in a weird way or like it’s some ridiculous demand I’m making lmao. I’ve just been having a delightful time talking to other Stalkyoo shippers and just romanticizing silly things we want to see so again: THIS IS JUST FOR FUN! I know fandom has been weird about shipping stuff because of the... ugly past lol so I feel a weird need to remind people that my shipping is just secondary enjoyment of ILY and that I will continue to love and read ILY wherever it goes.

With that out of the way lol please also note there are spoilers all the way up to 224, so if you don’t FP episodes, this post is not safe for you! (unless you like spoilers. i don’t judge people, I like spoilers, too)

Look, I’m not good at writing fanfiction. I’d love to, but I always feel like it’s difficult for me to portray characters the way the original writer does. I think about it, every now and then, dabble in a little idea, something I might like to see, before the storyline plays out in a different way, but I just never trust myself, so this is about the closest I ever get to that. And even still, I think of these little musings, these silly little “oh I’d love to see ______” very inline with fanfiction, wherein I acknowledge that what I’m hoping for or imagining is very likely to not happen. It’s just the fun of exploring story and the what-if’s and little AU tangents where ONE little thing tweaks.

For me, the fun of shipping is just playing with those character dynamics, which is another reason fic is so difficult for me - I enjoy my pairings, my characters, within their circumstances. That’s not to say AU fics are unfathomable to me (I LOVE THEM), but more so that it’s hard to write something knowing that I don’t know everything, that quimchee will pull out a surprise and I’ll be like oh my god I should have realized! And again, I guess that’s where musing is fun. You get to play out those little what if’s for yourself, get to imagine a scenario that probably will never come to pass. That’s the fun of fic + canon, to me! Not once has quimchee done something with her characters and their story that really surprised me in an “oh i don’t like this” kind of way. I can say “Oh I’d love to see xyz scenario play out” but when instead abc plays out, I’m not mad.

I also fully admit that I tend to compartmentalize my shipping thoughts and whims separately from my general commentary, and I guess for the previously mentioned reasons: this fandom has an ugly, nasty past with shipping and even still, there are a lot of people who demand romance from ILY and don’t seem to care about the actual story at play or even weirder, seem to think that it detracts from the romance they think should be happening???? (”when is she going to choose one of the brothers it’s been so many years and episodes waaaah) And I guess, yeah, I get a little self-conscious, because (and this is feels so embarrassing to actually word) I acknowledge a lot of people read my commentary and my opinions! And I’m so happy for that, I love being so communal with everyone! But I do get worried someone is going to take something out of context and be like “omg can you believe she’s one of those weirdo romance demanders” or something lmao, hence this weird long useless diatribe. But yeah, basically, I’ve been talking with people lately and god just thinking about my shippy feels and how much I love the current story - one step forward, three steps back; the struggles to open up; the struggles to deal with feelings in the face of much heavier, scarier elements; etc. etc.

Sometimes you just wake up and you’re like: I WANNA SCREAM ABOUT STALKYOO so you do it because you have a birdbrain and you know is screaming afljkfkjafkjakfjaf LMAO

If you’re reading this, chances are you aren’t new to my blog so you’ve probably read the likes of my Foundations of Stalkyoo, Why I Ship Stalkyoo, and Further Thoughts on Stalkyoo (I just never shut up huh) posts, so I’ll try not to like, completely repeat everything but if it happens well. It can’t helped, can it? lol

Anyway something I’ve been talking and thus thinking a lot about is where we stand with Stalkyoo, now that we are getting more confirmation of actual budding feelings. I always reiterate that anything can change, but I also like to remind myself that something quimchee has said in the past (and this is loosely paraphrased) is that whenever it does come to a pairing, it will be made obvious before it gets there, because this is NOT a primarily romance-focused story which means there aren’t as many storylines that deal with just the will-they/won’t-they and the likes, and I think likewise, there won’t be a real love triangle the way most fans tend to think of them. So often a love triangle gets boiled down to someone being torn between two people for whatever reason and i just don’t get the sense we’ll be seeing that? Thus, I do feel like we might well be moving into a territory where we will see some kinds of scenes setting up, or maybe better put, enabling the possibility of a relationship between Shinae and Nol?

But first. I always say I don’t really try to predict things because I’m always proven wrong, but I still like to try for fun lol, just because that’s part of the joy of reading an on-going story, I think! I’ve waffled a lot on it, but I still feel like when we reach our big time skip (not the first one taking us to graduation, but rather the one that jumps us a few years ahead), there has to be a REASON. Narratively it’s hard to imagine what that reason might be beyond the likelihood that we’ll see our three main characters on separate paths. It’s the only thing that makes sense, because otherwise you end up with a lot of story happening off page, right? If Shinae were to go to Japan with Kousuke, we’d end up missing their reconciliation and Kousuke earning her trust (or if it were to go the opposite, becoming cold acquaintances). Thus, I think Kousuke will go to Japan, but Shinae will take Rand’s advice begrudgingly and take up Yui on her “offer, while Nol will probably go to college abroad. He wasn’t denied admission to Oxford - it’s just not guaranteed there will be a spot for him.

I know people take umbrage with the idea of Shinae taking up Yui’s offer, but hear me out. I don’t think it’s meant to turn Shinae into some kind of conniving, cunning person in the likes of Yui, as much as just introduce her to this world, give her a better understanding of how people in this society and business work and thus, start to get an idea of how Yui works. While I don’t think it’s easy to ever be one step ahead of Yui, I do think developing an understanding of her world helps to at least defend herself from Yui - start to see traps in advance and how to avoid them, find ways to evade her clutches, that kind of thing. I do think the idea of Yui holding that over Shinae’s head is terrifying and it’s feels more dangerous than going to Japan with Kousuke, BUT again, the idea is that she would become better equipped to defend herself and fight back.

Of course, I don’t think Shinae in this moment is prepared to make that choice, and it may be a choice that comes after Yujing’s big scoop is revealed. Perhaps realizing how much more dangerous and powerful Yui (and the Kims) is would make her see what Rand was trying to tell her. I think she hasn’t fully figured out just what is going on with Yui and Rand, either - why would he be pushing her against his wife? But I think the information Yujing has compiled could help her see that bigger picture. If someone like Rand has spent twenty-five years struggling in this battle with her, how could Shinae ever hope to stand against her with even less understanding, with no sense of WHO Yui is or what makes her tick.

The thing about this that I always struggle with is: how would Nol regard that? We know he feels vehemently about Alyssa idolizing Yui and taking advantage of her connection to the Hiraharas - and yet he stayed with her, knowing that she benefits from him (but that he does, as well). Would he feel the same, if he found out who was enabling Shinae to go to school? Would they talk about it, since Shinae knows how he feels about it? Would he be able to understand, when even he himself doesn’t seem to realize that his father finds himself trapped by the Hiraharas? That’s... stuff I can’t try to predict, because I think everything is possible.

I promise I’ll get to that a little more.

The narrative benefit of separating the main characters is, of course, that first off, no major development happens where we can’t watch it. Sure, they’ll go about their lives and things will happen, but I don’t expect it to be major things that would make us go WAIT WHAT?! Otherwise, what brings us back itnto the story after time passes? For a long time my idea was that they’d all go their separate ways and maybe even their relationships would be a little damaged, so that when they come back into each others’ lives, part of the story is recovering that, reconciling with the past and maybe finding new futures together.

Especially regarding Nol and Shinae, I’d wondered if we would see him leave without reconciling with his friends, and that we’d see him and Shinae meet again after some years and Shinae would have to contend with their unresolved past, with feelings she never had a chance to really identify, let alone explore, and the aching beauty of having to figure out who each other after now that they’ve grown and changed, and if there is room in each others’ lives for one another, if they fit in with who they’ve become. And don’t get me wrong - i do like that kind of bittersweet ache, haunted by the ghosts of what never came to be, having to relearn each other. But the more I’ve talked about this (especially a lot with @bittrbuttr, the more I realized that’s not exactly what I want with them.

Like, it’s good and achey, it really pulls at your heartstrings. But I think that better suits an actual romance story, where the focus of the story and plot is on those feelings and untangling them, on finding their ways back to each other. I don’t think that’s the story of ILY, though.

I keep dancing around my point and I apologize, but we all know I’m nothing if not circuitous and I promise we’ll get there!

Here’s the thing: we know that Nol and Shinae are not in the space to become romantically involved. The feelings are there. They are drawn to each other, we know Nol finds comfort and peace in Shinae and that he always struggles to really push her away. We know that Shinae cares so deeply about him that no matter how much he hurts her, she still wants to try, she still wants to be there for him. I find the hope-tinged pain of 223 really poignant in that way - she wanted to SEE HIM, in a moment that was so special, she wanted to share that joy and get a glimpse at who he REALLY is, and he was unable to do that for her. But still she hopes for the best, still she intends to keep trying, to be as persistent as he was, even if she has to find a different approach.

They are so important to each other, and I’m hoping that might be a catalyst?

I understand what Nol’s struggle is. It isn’t easy to be vulnerable, to feel weak, especially when those parts of him have been used against him the last 6 years of his life. He is full of so much self-loathing and isn’t comfortable with his own weakness and vulnerability, thus he can’t show it to Shinae, he doesn’t want her to see him like that. He’d rather let her think he just doesn’t need to see what exists between them, that he doesn’t need to see her indulging because it’s enough to just bring her joy - and that itself hurts enough! But I want him to at least be honest about it - tell her that you don’t want her to see that part of you. Will it change things? Probably not significantly, but it puts her one step closer to understanding doesn’t it?

And so the thinking is - or rather, the hope - is that maybe Nol will realize this?

We see some of it in 224. Upon Dieter’s arrival, instead of a hey welcome back or anything, it’s an immediate “Did you bump into Yoo?” and when Dieter reassures him that she’s fine, it’s just stuffy, he knows a. it’s not fine and b. he feels bad. I think he felt that regret immediately, when he noted that she’s angry and he took off the blindfold and she wasn’t there. Nol is so used to pushing people away, it’s his first line of defense, but when it works? When he succeeds at driving that wedge? Again it’s that battle of will vs want - he thinks that pushing her away is the right thing to do for her sake, but he doesn’t ACTUALLY want it.

It’s so difficult to go back to how things used to be having gotten a taste of something better. It’s so difficult to push out everyone when you’ve allowed yourself to indulge in being loved and cared about, and and I think that’s what Nol’s biggest hurdle is.

Don’t get me wrong; there’s a lot of hurdles with him lol and clearing one doesn’t exactly make the others any easier to clear. But something we’ve seen from Shinae and that I think the story has tried to impress upon is that things are easier when we aren’t alone. Burdens shared are burdens that weigh a little less. We’ve Shinae and her father talking about being a team - about sharing that burden so it’s not so hard for just one of them and distributing that burden more easily. We’ve seen it in Shinae opening up about her problems with her friends, her insecurities that made her doubt her friendships. Her realization that as scary as situation as her sister breaking into her home was, it was made more bearable with a ragtag group of goofs who will protect her.

Nol needs to learn to share that burden. He’s spent so long treating himself like an island, he hasn’t had the opportunity to remember that it’s easier to endure something when you aren’t exhausted from shouldering that burden all by yourself. There is strength in numbers. He’s been so run ragged from just trying to endure, trying to get by, trying to survive and how is he to ever fight back against Yui when he’s exhausted just from treading waters?

I mean, ultimately Nol needs to learn to love himself, but I think it’s easier to tackle allowing others to love him, first. Allowing himself to share the burden, to show those weaknesses and let people have his back. Be able to slump over and know that someone will help keep you standing, you know? And maybe through that, he can find it in him to start loving himself. Of course, he has other problems he needs to address; in order to love himself, he has to forgive himself, and I hope that Yujing’s article can help in that area. I’m sure he carries the guilt of his mother’s alleged suicide, and maybe he was even made to believe that. It wouldn’t surprise me if the time he spent in the mental facility only served to make him feel worse about his existence, made him believe he was the root cause of the bad. Maybe even, like Nana, he had an argument with his mother before he death and felt that if they hadn’t argued, maybe she would never have made that choice?

Clearly that’s still a little complicated for us to fully dig into, but as horrible as learning that maybe her death was not a choice she made is to learn (I cannot imagine having made this peace with someone I loved reaching a point so dark they made that choice, only to find out that it was, possibly, murder. How do you deal with that? What do you do with all that new grief, that new anguish?), I think maybe, if he learned that she didn’t choose that, it might help free him from his shackles of guilt.

But I think until he can learn to forgive himself, until he can make that peace, couldn’t letting people love him help? Wouldn’t it be better for him to move forward knowing that he has people who will not only defend him, but who can ease the weight of his burdens?

As dramatic as Nol and Shinae separating on these rocky grounds, unable to fully reconcile, makes for a good, dramatic romance, I think it’s much better for Nol to move on as a team. To let himself rely on others isn’t something he can learn over night, of course, but isn’t it better for him to enter a scary phase of his life knowing that there ARE people who he can talk to about it? There ARE people he can eventually let see those weak parts of him?

So my ultimate hope for Nol’s extension is that in that time, he and Shinae find that peace after all. I still can’t help but feel like the three-day-extension is significant, because why else include it, if it was to pass without event? Especially because, depending on how it works (is it 3 additional days INCLUDING the 22nd or 3 days extra, beginning the 23rd?) we’ll hit the holidays. That just feels... too significant, right?

I want Nol to grapple with his feelings, let his fear take over a little. Is he really as ready to lose Shinae as he tries to be? He seemed to regret hurting her, hanging his head after Dieter reassured him she was fine, even though she refuses to come back in to the room. And I can’t help but feel like it’s significant that she’s still lingering in the waiting room. My thinking is that Nana will get involved - she knows that Nol is upset about someone, she knows other friends have been watching over him, she knows there’s a friend who isn’t coming back in. She can read him well, so it’s not like it’s difficult to read that maybe they had a fight, that he was brusque and brushed her off the way he tries to do even to Nana. Will she go out there to see who this friend is? Will they talk? I feel like they HAVE to - not just because the fandom has waited for it, but because I think Nana can probably glean that Shinae (”Yoo” lol) must be someone important, if he’s acting like that.

And look. Did Nana see the blush? *I* saw the blush, I’m not getting over that. I’m sorry but he lmao pushed her away, regretted hurting her, and he’s still getting flustered because he pictured her mouth. BUDDYYYYYYYYYYYY. YOU’RE A MESS.

I don’t expect her to fully intervene in like, trying to make things happen way lmao I think it’s more like... Nana knows better than anyone that Nol is a difficult person to love. I say this with affection, because it’s true. He pushes people away, he deflects from himself, he never opens up, it’s hard to read what’s going on in his head. And Nana also knows of the darkness that looms. She was right there when he pleaded guilty, concerned about his reasoning. She’s listened to him talk about how maybe everything would be better if he didn’t exist. She knows that the darkness has a strong grip on him. So who better than her to encourage Shinae, to thank her for her patience and tenacity, for sticking with Nol even with the way he acts? I’d like to see a little bit of that comfort between them, some reassurance that Shinae is, in fact, making the right choice. She oscillates so wildly between her extreme emotions; sadness and melancholy that caring is not enough and how it sometimes comes out as anger when she can’t find a better way to channel it. We know she doesn’t really regret planning that birthday celebration - she’s just hurt. And I think it would be a big help to have Nana tell her how much it means to see Nol with friends who care about him despite how prickly and difficult he is, how she worries about him and is glad there are people who care about him. I think it would really encourage Shinae that her resolve is right - that she just has to find another way to approach him, that it’s worth the effort.

And at that same time, yes, I want Nol’s fear to kick his ass. I want him to realize he faces the very real reality of losing someone who cares so much about him, who is willing to put up with him because of how much she cares and how special she is to him - and that she wants him to see it, too. I want him to fear losing the comfort and peace she brings him. I want him to have to finally face head on his want vs what he thinks he deserves, and see what a future without someone like her is like. Can he bear to return to that kind of loneliness? Can he bear losing her concern? How it feels for her to take notice of him, to probe, to listen?

Like, at the risk of getting really corny and dramatic, that’s what it comes down to. I don’t want Nol to come back in a few years and decide he’s ready to face all of that. I want him to move on from this point knowing he’s not alone. I want him to be able to face prison knowing that he’s not so alone, that there is someone who will always be there to support him. I think that’s what makes the most sense. Leaving on their current circumstances works great if it’s a romance and that’s the main story - but making up, talking, being honest? That makes more sense for THIS story, where Nol starts to grow NOW, where he starts to make those important steps that will help him find his way to healing, and more important, that will help him face the forces that taunt and haunt him.

He doesn’t have to be completely honest with Shinae, because I don’t think he’s ready. I don’t think he’ll tell her that his mother took her life, and that he believes it’s his fault. But I think it would be enough to tell her the truth he couldn’t stay to her face - that he doesn’t want her to see him like that, that it’s still hard for him to open up that way, that it’s still SCARY - but that he doesn’t want to push her away, that he’s sorry he keeps hurting her. We could even go more dramatic with a callback to the hospital scene - that he’s sorry he isn’t good enough and is undeserving of her (AND LET HER REASSURE HIM THAT’S NOT TRUE THAT HE IS). BUT JUST. IDK I WANT HIM TO FACE IT. ADMIT IT.

He doesn’t have to tell her he likes her. That’s fine. Just reiterate what she means to him! One moment he’s telling her she’s special to him, that he cares about her, next moment he’s telling her it’s okay he doesn’t have to look he’s fine like this. STOP JERKING HER AROUND ;~; lmao like don’t get me wrong. I GET IT. I UNDERSTAND HIM!!!!!!!!!!!

But I also want to see them move into our time skips with a sense of understanding and peace, you know? I don’t want want Nol to face his fears alone anymore. I want him to let someone stand by his side. I want him to accept how good it feels to rest on her shoulder and know that it’s okay, she’s there.

I HAVE FEELINGS OKAY I JUST. I WANT THEM TO BE ABLE TO FIND T HAT STRENGTH IN EACH OTHER, TO BE STRONGER TOGETHER.

And to call back to my earlier point lmao I like to think if they get to that point, then maybe he would understand, if Shinae accepts Yui’s offer. Maybe he would see how it’s different from Alyssa, that Shinae made a choice to protect herself, that it’s not about the idolatry, it’s not a self-serving choice, but one that protects her and enables her to fight back. Knowing that they are on the same side, that Shinae isn’t a doe-eyed naïve girl about to be taken advantage of again, but one who wants to fight back against the people who hurt her and others like her.

We’re about halfway to 3/5 of the way into this story, and I think that’s a good point for Shinae and Nol to join forces.

AndlookthisiscompletelydaydreamingbutiftherewasaChristmaskissIwouldcertainlynotobject

PLEASE I JUUUUUUUUUST i want to see them on the same page, I want to see them moving forward TOGETHER. I don’t want Nol to keep walking on his own. I don’t want him to just accept Shinae at his side, either; I want him to CHOOSE to let her choose his side. ;A;

GOD. PLS. BARKS AT THE MOON I’m just ready for them to bE A TEAM I’M READY FOR NOL TO BE SELFISH AND TO GO AFTER WHAT HE WANTS I WANT HIM TO CHOOSE COMFORT AND SECURITY OVER PUNISHMENT I WANT HIM TO REALIZE THERE IS STRENGTH IN COMPANIONSHIP. I know being close to him puts her at risk - but he needs to see that no matter what, she’s at risk, and isn’t it better if she’s in danger with someone who can help, than to be all alone with it? I WANT HIM TO FACE THAT FEAR OF HIS AND FIND THAT MAYBE HIS DESIRE, HIS WANT, HIS NEEDS ARE EVEN BIGGER. That it’s better to find peace with her than spend the whole time afraid. Isn’t that the thing? He’s always afraid - afraid of someone else getting hurt, afraid of another opportunity being stolen away, afraid of the next time Yui will find a way to hurt him. BUT TO BE ABLE TO FIND COMFORT WITH SHINAE?

Please. Just open up - be honest!!!!!!! But most importantly APOLOGIZE. Apologize for hurting her, apologize for pushing her away.

I realize, based on what she said on the hospital roof, that maybe he won’t make that choice, that maybe her persistence has to be a long game, that she does have to wait for him to forget to put the mask back on.

But wouldn’t it be so nice if he chose to move forward with her, instead of alone, to face their nightmare and battles together? ;~;

#I Love Yoo #ILY Brainrot #ILY FP #ILY Spoilers #Stalkyoo #Aegi #Shinae Yoo #Nol #Nolan Oliver T. Lochlainn #LMFAO THIS IS SO LONG-WINDED but i think no one is surprised anymore?#I just!!!!!!!!!#i have this very specific want in mind and if it doesn't happen that's okay because i'm sure it will lead to a better story lmao #BUT I CAN'T HELP BUT LIKE. WANT THIS PARTICULAR THING TO PLAY OUT for the sake of the story #for the sake of the second season #for the sake of what it means to fight against those who harm others just for joy #i'm such a firm believer of shinae and nol being a team and i want to see them be a team together FOR REAL #i want to see nol find it in himself to lean on shinae and find how much stronger he can be if he doesn't have to shoulder a burden alone #it's so much easier to share the weight together when you aren't the only one to carry it right?#and when you aren't run ragged just from sturviving #when you have the time to rest and recharge knowing you are safe #aren't you able to become even stronger?#to face even more?#I JUST WANT THEM TO BE A TEAM ;A;

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01zfan · 22 days

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don’t know if you’ve already talked about this but can you take us through your writing process? do you write on a computer or your phone? how do you find the motivation? do you make a plan before writing or do you just wing it? do you read/listen to anything for inspiration? how many words do you write in one sitting? how do you tackle a writing slump? 😁😁😁😁🤍

omg first of all thank you so much for your interest in my writing it really means alot agh. i do talk about my process here and here but i will gladly talk more about it because i LUV talking about writing heh.

usually my writing process begins one of two ways. i either have a concept of what i want to do that comes to me as a fleeting idea while im working on a screenplay or an assignment. sometimes i save it in my memory but sometimes i’ll write it really quick in my notes so i don’t lose it. the other way i get ideas is from the requests you guys send me! it inspires me alot, definitely a majority of my fics are from requests you guys have sent me. my favorite thing is when i can put multiple requests together to kinda curate a really good fic for you guys (and that way i get to do multiple peoples requests in one go!)

once i have the idea i usually write a bulk of it on my computer. i’m honestly a very impulsive writer when it comes to fanfiction so i used to jump around alot when i was writing. like for example i remember when i was writing argue with you part three i jumped around alot to different parts of the story and then kinda bridged the gaps. sometimes i’ll jump around to different fanfics i’m working on as well like sometimes i’ll be working on three at a time just jumping around to wherever my mind goes. i used to write straight through all the way to build my tolerance of making a linear story but now i just kinda go with whatever i feel like. i write on my phone too, but mainly when i write on my phone im tweaking stuff and editing bc i’m usually on the go when i’m on my phone. (i have edited so many fics and perfected smut scenes on public transit LMFAO)

i find the motivation to write because i love it a whole lot like it’s kind of hard to explain it but it’s like an innate part of me now to write and always wanting to write. like sometimes i can’t go to sleep until i write something whether it’s an assignment, a screenplay, a fanfic, a journal entry etc. i haven’t gone a single day without writing something in god knows how long. so i’ve never been too much in a writing slump, usually i just read where i left off and let my mind run from there. i find motivation also in reading books and other authors work. i don’t usually listen to music when i’m writing, unless it’s a request or i hear a song that reminds me of a member and an idea comes from that.

i truthfully wing most of the fics i write on here especially if it’s a request i kinda just go with a vibe and follow it till i eventually reach the end. i’m always driven by the same goal to kinda make it read like a reformatted screenplay to kinda transport you there. i think personally i did this the best with in the middle and should’ve told me. but sometimes i’m really driven by story and personalization of the members like i did with bike peg, your birthday, and trigger finger. i really want to become a better writer at feelings and incorporating more analogies and figurative language in my writing because i think it would take me to the next level. human like me was like a very amateur teaser of what i want to write (not as tragic of course but just very emotionally driven)

i genuinely couldn’t tell you the most i’ve ever written in one sitting. i’m gonna say 5-6k words because i wrote non-refundable in one sitting and i was also jumping around writing other stuff while i was woking on that one (i guess i can consider sungchan as a muse?)

sorry if i talked too much but i really love writing a whole bunch i could talk about it till the cows come home. if you ever want me to break down certain passages or excerpts in my fic and how i came up with it i would love to do that so freaking much you have no idea. once again thank you for asking and having an interest in my writing process :D

#askz #anonz #ninonaz #talkingz

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wibzenadarksiderwithasoftheart · 2 months

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✨✨✨✨🫱Care to share🫲✨✨✨✨

The message was sent to you because someone loved your writing and stories. ❤️

▪️What are your writing suggestions for newcomers, or what would you have liked to know when you first started?

▪️How do you write different personalities and perspectives? Could you explain how you came up with the manner you written your favorite or any character?

▪️What do you do when you have writer's block?

▪️How do you come up with new ideas and develop them?

▪️Any messages for your readers or fellow writers?

You are welcome to answer if you have the time and desire, or you can simply respond to the questions that come to mind.

💐Thank you for your work as a writer and as a member of this fandom!💐

Why thank you dear Ano.

My writing suggestion for all newcomers is pretty simple, and I know many have said the same thing before me, but I'll say it again anyway. WRITE WHAT YOU WANT TO READ!!! Don't worry too much about what others will think, have fun, be creative and don't take it 'too' seriously. We do fanfiction for pleasure, for freedom, and because it's a great way to escape RL for a moment. Don't worry about kudos and comments, it's not easy, I know, but have patience your mutuals will find you and you them, but it takes time. You don't have to produce! You can't succeed every time! Find your own rhythm, listen to your muse, allow yourself breaks, read other people's stories without envy (we are all different and have different skills and talents), COMMENT and engage with others, and above all BE KIND! Especially to yourself.

I wish I could give a real and 'professional' answer on how I work with personalities, character and pov, but I can't. I write using 'Gefühle', following my instincts and my own perception of the characters and how they will act. It's not a very reliable method, but I don't know any other. I just do it… And as for pov, well, whatever feels right. A few times I consciously choose a certain pov, but most of the time it's a subconscious choice.

When I find myself in writer's block, I've learned over time that it will pass. Sometimes I take a break from fandom. I read, other fic, other books. I read my own 'old' stories, to remind myself how far I've come, how much I'm evolving, and to see that I've actually created something I like. I share some ideas with the trusted few. I find some short prompts to play with. I try very hard not to stress about it. I'm patient… It will pass.

About ideas and developing them. Well I don't even have to try. New ideas usually assault me and I will never be able to write them all, DAMN bunnies. It's a difficult challenge to manage them, and even more difficult to choose which ones to work on. Once again it comes down to instinct/subconscious, the ideas that stick, the ones my muse insists on bouncing around in my brain, those are the ones I work with. Once I start writing, the development tends to come naturally.

To my readers THANK YOU, your interest is precious to me, priceless and beyond description. To my fellow weiters. I love you all!!! I am honored to know you and admire you endlessly. You are a joy in my life that I can't even begin to explain. THANK YOU for being you and for everything you create.

#fanfiction #writing #fan fiction #fandom stuff #creativety #my muse #ask and answer

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metalbvcky · 2 months

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Answer the questions and tag five fanfiction authors you know!

tagged by @sarahowritesostucky, thank you lovely!! 💖💖 no pressure tagging: @late-to-the-party-81 @sparkagrace @bittersweet-in-boston @otpcutie @apple-writes

🍓 How did you get into writing fanfiction?

I feel like that's asking "how did you join Tumblr" it just happened 😂

🍇How many fandoms have you written in?

One, technically, which is nothing compared to others but I enjoy exploring my ideas with the MCU and its characters. I'm not sure I'd get the same feeling with other fandoms, like say, supernatural.

🍈How many years have you been writing fanfiction?

It'll be four this summer. Again, not long, but considering I denied myself as being a writer for several years? That's progress and growth.

🍎Do you read or write more fanfiction?

It depends on the muse and all sorts of other things. Sometimes I'm punching out oneshot after oneshot, while other times I'll be focused on a longfic and will read in between and stuff. Like currently!

🍌What is one way you've improved as a writer?

Writing more. Reading more. Writing more again. But also letting go of sticking to a strict outline. I'm a planster. I'll plan the major things, but everything else is made up as I go.

🍑Do you have any bad habits as a writer?

I'll often start or continue writing a scene and will find myself stuck, thinking it's the end of the world, and then realize my whole issue is a few lines above what I'm trying to make work. Happens so often you'd like I would be used to it by now.

🍍 What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I don't know about weird, but I've been doing a ton of medical research for my future doctor/patient AU. I've searched around for all sorts of things lol even for a sentence that I'll likely not end up using.

🍉What's your favourite type of comment to receive on your work?

Keyboard smashes. Long detailed comments about the plot/relationship/pining/etc. Comments that mention a tiny detail I included, those are the best when people notice them. But also, any comment.

🍐What's the most fringe trope/topic you write about?

Crack fics? I don't think I write a lot of outlandish stuff, at least I wouldn't consider them to be 😂

🥭What is the hardest type of story for you to write?

Uhhh... *stares blankly at my open doc* Ones with big plot. I love it, it makes the story even more fun to write, but MAN plot can be tricky. Catch me saying "Did everyone see that? Because I will not be doing it again" like Captain Jack Sparrow when I finish a longfic, and then immediately start planning another one to write.

🍏What is the easiest type?

Short oneshots with hardly any plot. Which isn't often because almost everything I write ends up being longer than I anticipated.

🍑Where do you do your writing? What platform? When?

Docs. I used to use Smartedit Writer and organize by chapters, but ehhhh I just throw ideas onto a separate doc and go from there. Why plan extensively when my characters will do a 180 on me all the time? And almost always at night, sometimes during the day when time/the muse allows me.

🍋What is something you've been too nervous/intimidated to write, but would love to write one day?

I was just thinking about this recently. I have never written a post TWS recovery fic. It's on my 'to write' bucket list, so I hope to tackle a lengthy canon fic one of these days. I love reading canon fics where they're on missions and the plot is centered around HYDRA or some other big bad, I feel like those are trickier to write than AUs. But everyone has their strengths and weaknesses, and I know coming up with detailed worlds/world building isn't a walk in the park for some.

🍇 what made you choose your username?

I didn't know what to name my Marvel sideblog when I was making it so... I just decided Bucky + metal arm + aw crap that name is taken = Metalbvcky 🤣

#tagging games #writer games #mandy talks and stuff

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accidentalslayer · 9 months

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🎃 Some changes coming to this blog 🎃

TL;DR Summary: You might notice me branching out into new topics or areas of interest now that I'm no longer writing TVD fanfiction. The overall vibe of this blog might alter a little. Although, I'll still be fall & autumn posting until the day I die and well into the afterlife if there is one. Things leaving: TVD fanfiction, my personal fanfiction, vampire stuff unless I feel like talking about them. Things possibly being introduced: More shitposting, mental illness related posts about my feelings on stuff, art maybe??? A journal on my adventures in lucid dreaming, shifting, and astral projection????* *That might turn into a whole new blog tbh. I don't know if any of my followers would enjoy listening to me babble about weird dream crap.

Read below for an expanded discourse about my ideas on what will change.

So! I've kind of run out of steam when it comes to writing fanfiction for TVD. Netflix eradicating the show from their streaming services kind of slammed down the final coffin nail on my muse, so to speak, & I was really bummed when I found out yesterday. This blog started out as a TVD/Originals sanctuary for me, after all... But it's grown into something more now. It's become a place where I can express feelings & thoughts that I've had hiding inside me but never felt safe enough to say out loud. And I've had so much fun with Autumn aesthetics; turning this blog into a Fall paradise has improved my mood in so many ways! Whenever I'm depressed, I just look at my blog and imagine that I'm relaxing in my pumpkin patch, far away from the noise and troubles of the world. & I've also made a couple of friends along the way here! Looking at you guys: @king-yandere and @margueritetheduchess05💖

The question remains, however. If I won't be writing about vampires anymore, then where do I go from here? What should I do? It's a solid fact that I go insane if I'm not actively engaging with my creativity in some way. Last night, the only thing I did was brainstorm, and stress myself out trying to think of SOMETHING. Today, I think I finally have a game plan. so lemme lay it out for you. Or rather, me. I don't know if anyone is actually reading this LOL. 🎃 "Accidentalslayer" name will still remain along with blog title. My autumn & spooky aesthetics are here to stay. I might reblog people's fanfics from time to time but I think I'm moving away from writing fic myself. Besides, it didn't feel very rewarding if I'm honest. I got very little engagement on my chapters. So, if I ever DO write another story on this blog again, it'll be definitely be an original fiction. My pumpkin hat off to fanfiction writers everywhere, though! A LOT of effort, time, and research goes into fanfic that readers will never know about... 🎃 It's already been there on the periphery but I think this blog might just turn into my main shitposting/journal outlet for talking about my mundane experiences. Mental illness, funny thoughts, & feelings that visit my brain every day. If I can somehow get my "art brain" to work again, I might post art here, idk. 🎃 I'm a spiritual hoe. I love talking about witchcraft, tarot, and lucid dreaming but I'm not really sure this blog is where I should talk about that stuff. I have @flowercrone for all my tarot/PAC readings but I've really REALLY started to take an interest in astral projection, shifting, and lucid dreaming. I even started a journal recently to document all my experiences. I should probably start another blog that's dedicated JUST to shifting and astral projection, idk. If you've gotten this far in the post, you're loved beyond belief right now. 💖 Please feel free to send suggestions to me in my asks if you have any ideas about anything I've written in this post.

#🎃 accidentalslayer 🎃#blog changes #changes to blog

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nerdieforpedro · 5 months

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Weekend Update - 01/07/2024

Nerdie! Happy New Year! How was your first week of 2024?

….I could have used more sleep, but it wasn’t horrible. Just okay overall. There were a few high points. I'm getting organized in life and in fanfiction.

That's a good thing. You're taking your planning seriously? This is The Way. So what's on the way? *laughs at their poor joke*

Don't abuse The Way like that. It's to be respected! But that did earn a giggle. Anyway...

1. The New Year began with all the Pickled Peñas! The @pickled-pena challenge fics were posted on 01/01 but by using the tag: trickle pickle you can still write a Pickled Peña fic if you so choose until January 31st. All Pickle Peña fics are listed here.

2. I finished my Space smut with feelings series Sard’ika Sessions. 🥰 You never forget your first series. It’s quite special, I feel I represented Din well and bent The Creed but didn’t remove any helmets prematurely. I put in all the feelings I wanted (because smut can have feelings too!) And Din saying the things that I giggled and squealed as I wrote them. 😘 This is The Way. Din had his way, all the ways. 🥰

3. Working on WIPs via the WIP Tag/Ask game which @trulybetty got me into. I thank her for including me. I may need to work on some of those titles.

Pedro characters from the WIP list include:

Dave York (4 from the list - guess which ones)

Marcus Pike (has 2)

Dieter Bravo (has 3)

Frankie Morales (@i-own-loki he's not dying)

Joel Miller (Frankie and he are tied for one each)

Din Djarin (one as well)

New characters to my writing:

Benny Miller (one listed, 2-3 not listed)

Santiago Garcia (two listed)

When I turn my brain off after coming home. I note different ideas or vibes I had. Sometimes there's bullet points, sentences or just a few words and a description. @tinytinymenace also has this same issue.

Well, there are three people to thank for plunge into the York Pit. The first, is @goodwithcheese with her asks to be about Dave which lead me to write 3-4 paragraphs to each ask. Also her end of the year confessional. Which is hilarious because apparently the way I misspelled someone’s name (I won’t say who, I feel embarrassed about it still 😣) was specific to me. It should also be noted, that maybe one of the two people I’ll mention next reblogged it saying they may know who it is and to DM them. So subtle, and I laughed because my reaction was, “How did they know?!” 🤣 The person who pointed out the spelling error was @for-a-longlongtime who should be a PI 🕵️ and had encouraged me to start writing the Dave cat-mouse fic. As for the reblog, that was the sweet @legendary-pink-dot who I’m not sure if it was my spelling mistake or the way I write. Special mention goes to @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for her recent Dave York fic Inamorata

So your friends seem extremely observant!

That they are! If you want to learn about physics, keeping track of where body parts are and tantalizing smut you read Adi’s Nothing that I Didn’t Know she’s going to have more and we’re going to need all the hydration. Dot ran the Catfish Pond PhD Degree program in 2023. She knows our dear Frankie “Catfish” Morales exceptionally well, every curl and freckle I’m pretty sure. Both very smart and eagle- eyed ladies. 👀

Sounds like we should check both of them out! They sound like a blast!

They both are! And so is Megan when she and @trulybetty when they aren’t trying to get us all under control and herd cats and organize things. 😅 Or maybe they are with threats usually, but nice ones. You gotta be there.

We don’t know what to make of that. We’re concerned but intrigued.

As am I most of the time. It’s a good place to be. 😎

Making her update long enough, Hornado hooligan departs!

Wait, what does that name mean?

Ask @mysterious-moonstruck-musings and @undercoverpena they know, they’re both menaces. ❤️❤️

Love Nerdie 💕

#Nerdie talks #weekend update #dave york #joel miller #Layla OFC #santiago garcia #Frankie morales #pedro pascal characters #fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin #Sard’ika Sessions #zip ties #cat and mouse #cargo pants #The cheese knows

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ramim · 8 months

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Elucien; In love or not?

So first of all, I am not an Elucien shipper; I am currently waiting to see what sort of plot SJM has cooked up!

But, when I read Elucien fanfictions (to get more content on Lucien), one thing the bugs me a lot is the fact that some of the writers like to write Lucien as this lovesick person who is already far in love with Elain.

Well, let me disagree with you with utmost respect.

I believe, as humans who have no understanding of the ways of fearies, we are unable to comprehend the real meaning behind a bond. But considering we can guess, here we go:

Even though it was canonically confirmed that the pull of the bond is stronger for males, it was never confirmed that they feel any sort of love; I believe it's more of a need rather than love. it's like a rope, tying them together and even though the rope gives Lucien less freedom to move around, he still can think for himself; so even though he is drawn to Elain, he's not in love with her.

Lucien is a rational person; I believe he doesn't fall fast for people, but when he does, he falls hard and even though the bond is pulling on him, he probably can distinguish between the effect of the bond and the love from within his soul.

They don't know each other; this important point often is brought up by antis but it's important nonetheless. even though I don't approve of Elain's former relationship (Greyson) and believe that she probably was too much of a romantic to see Greyson for what he was, she has grown a lot ever since and she is not going to fall in love blindly this time! And Lucien is too old to fall in love with a person he has never had an actual conversation with before and has seen her a few handfuls of times. So, starting an Elucien fic by a lovesick Lucien is not really a good idea.

If anything, ever happens between Lucien and Elain, it's so slow that it probably makes our skin wrinkled and our hair grey! Those two have a lot to learn about each other and they need to first deal with their own trauma (either separately or together); so, no love for them, until they at least become friends!

I think at this point both of them have trust issues; Elain has lost the love of her life to prejudice against Fea and her human life was ripped away from her just to be thrown into a mating bond situation which canonically we know is a lot to take even for the fearies themselves. Lucien has lost two homes already, had his lover murdered in front of him, was betrayed by his best friend, he was sexually assaulted as a result of that betrayal; he then faced an unwanted mating bond, which considering he believed he had already lost his mate, is a lot to take! so until they find a way to heal through these things, I don't think any of them is going to actually fall in love!

of course, anyone can write anything they want as long as it's not insulting or triggering, and these are just a few musings I constantly have when I'm reading Elucien fan fiction. it's just that I believe the beauty of Elucien's ship is the slow build-up, the mutual friendship and understanding and the agonizingly cluelessness of this two while interacting with each other.

#lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #lucien #acotar #acomaf #acofas #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and embers #a court of silver flames #elain archeron #elain acotar #elain x lucien #pro lucien vanserra #pro lucien #elucian #elucien

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cto10121 · 1 month

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You mentioned in the tags of one of your posts on Mercutio's (non-existant) sexuality that you're partial to the idea that he may have been inspired by Kit Marlowe; I want to hear all about this lol.

Also, do you have an Marlowe recommendations? I've heard good things so I would like to read some of his plays.

Oh, yeah, my Christopher-Marlowe-may-have-been-the-inspiration-for-Mercutio theory! Glad to talk about it.

So I’m definitely not the only one with this theory—some scholars have mused as much and I did come across them. But the case for Mercutio-as-Marlowe stands roughly as follows:

One of Marlowe’s nicknames was Mercury (!!). Now, Shakespeare clearly did not come up with the name, as he got it from his source material in Brooke et al. But as the Mercutio there was just some random courtier, I have no doubt that Shakespeare got an eyeful of that name in the Brooke poem and just 😏 and seized that golden opportunity to honor his friend in this way

By all accounts Marlowe was charming, erudite, intellectually edgy (an avowed Arianist and homosexual), with a nasty bit of a temper. Mercutio is much along those same lines

Marlowe and Shakespeare may have been friends as well as theater rivals, with similar backgrounds but (I suspect) opposite personalities and sensibilities—the iconoclastic Marlowe with the much milder Shakespeare. You see that same push-pull dynamic in Romeo and Mercutio’s relationship.

Mercutio was killed during his duel with Tybalt. Marlowe was killed while fighting with his fellow spies at a tavern/government safehouse in Deptford. So Shakespeare making Mercutio’s death off-stage may be a reference to Marlowe’s out-of-London death (and perhaps how Will came to find out).

So yeah, not much evidence, come to think of it. Just general vibes. Mercutio does have lines about dreams that are a reference to Thomas Nash, who was also friends with Marlowe and perhaps Shakespeare as well. But of course Shakespeare would make Mercutio a composite of his friends and not just limit himself to any ~one thing.

Against this is the fact that there is no clear evidence that Shakespeare and Marlowe knew each other. That said, the theater world was tiny and Marlowe wrote for Strange’s Men; Shakespeare may have been a player for them at the time. But it’s logical for many fangirls scholars to believe they knew each other and were friends/rivals and so forth.

As for recommendations, I’ve only ever read Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus, which even got a Globe performance, and his Hero and Leander, a narrative poem along the lines of Shakespeare’s Venus and Adonis. I’m ashamed to admit that in class I mistook a passage from Hero for Shakespeare’s, an ignominy that will live in me forever until my dying breath.

But while Marlowe was never as great at character as Shakespeare, his verse was very good (if a little too regular with the masculine endings) and nigh indistinguishable from Shakespeare’s in the beginning. Also, Marlowe is 1000x gayer, even writing about Edward II and his forbidden romance with his favorite Gaveston. Hence his popularity in fangirl circles. If you like Shakespeare but feel he could have been more violent, political, and gay, Marlowe will be right up your alley. There have been tons of fanfiction about him, some notable ones of which are:

The Marlowe Papers (Barber)—author is a stupid anti-Stratfordian, but her verse is legit

A Tip for the Hangman (Epstein)—not feeling the main romance, but it was fun and well-researched

The Secret Life of Shakespeare (Morgan)—actually focusing on Will/Anne, but this version of Marlowe is my favorite. He is just as I’ve envisioned him

#kaleb-is-definitely-sane #ask #romeo and juliet #william shakespeare #christopher marlowe #i think the reason is that marlowe’s personality is just much more evident than shakespeare’s #even though marlowe has fewer trails #hence his popularity in fanfic #meanwhile i can’t say i’ve encountered a portrayal of shakespeare that has satisfied me #life of will

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moregraceful · 1 year

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bound my first little fic zine with my own seminal dumbass gay hockey rpf fanfiction top to the bottom, just cool!! i followed these perfect and thorough instructions on binding a fic zine from @eat0crow and typesetting the text block was done according to these incredible instructions by @armoredsuperheavy. i really would have had no idea where to start without their instructions. i started with a fic zine bc all my favorite fics are under like 25k and i'm not sure i want to invest in all the tools necessary for larger works when i'll be binding such short fics generally.

musing on process and future plants and mistakes i made under the cut - not due to the instructions but simply bc i am a moron 😌

this took about an hour and a half to make (not including typesetting), so it was pretty quick. (it might help that my first job in college was doing book conservation for an academic library, so i sort of have the skills in my toolbox, they're just hella rusty.) this is a 6.5k fic on 28 pages so it was a thin and manageable first work. i made several mistakes but it was good to try a first one and i'm pretty proud overall! i made a little zine of my fic!!!

mistakes...so first i printed it on the long edge despite eat0crow specifically calling out to pay attention to how you print it. i simply. have zero reading comprehension lol. so now i have a tidy 14 pages of paper that i will be cutting up into squares make paper cranes with! we love to reduce, reuse, and recycle in this house.

my next mistake was buying this beautiful decorative paper from two hands paperie for a cover, then receiving it and realizing that it was much too thin for a cover, and then buying OTHER colored paper that was also too thin and deciding i would split the difference and simply glue the decorative paper on the colored paper. i didn't glue it onto the paper before i bound it! it ended up okay. i'm honestly not entirely sure if it would have worked out for me to glue it on before binding it? it might not have had enough give when i bound it? so that's something to continue playing with future bindings. i bought more decorative paper specifically for other projects, but i'm going to keep playing around with it on my own fics until i figure out the best way to do it.

i also fully dropped into 20yo kasper being fussed at by his boss to NOT take shortcuts. DO everything slowly, she said. DON'T try to do too much at once! so i tried to cut down page creep page by page but i wasn't satisfied so i took my exacto knife and hacked it down all at once and then it looked worse lol. could hear my boss sighing from across the country. i don't know if i will keep trying that one honestly, i might be too lazy to do it when a book has more than on signature. this was only 28 pages so it was manageable but i typeset a work that was 72 pages last week and having done 28 pages and being unsatisfied, i really don't think i have the energy to do 72 pages and still be frustrated with the results.

which brings me to my next thing! this was a manageable 28 pages and i think that was a good length! but the next one i want to try binding is the second fic in the series brother let me be your shelter. i've been struggling in the salt mines for literal days trying to typeset it into sensible signatures and currently it's 48 pages long in signatures of 16 so i could bind them with french binding but i think 16 pages on 20lb paper might be too thin for french binding! so i'm going to have to keep messing with it. i had to make the font 10.5 pt to get it to fit to 48 pages. 10.5pt i think is fairly standard for a fic zine but i kind of think that if i am going to have to/want to bind multiple signatures anyway, i should just suck it up and make it bigger and play around with sizing. i really want to try french binding (here is a demo video from the preservation lab).

my final and probably biggest mistake is that i was using a rubber ruler i've had since freshman year of college, so it's completely warped and made cutting in a straight line a complete pain in the ass. might be why when i was cutting down page creep they looked like complete ass. so i gotta buy a metal ruler lmao.

the next fic after brother that i want to try (or maybe i should try it first if i am so determined to do french binding lol) is the baby sharks fic, which is only 10k, but the spacing is odd due to the format of the fic, which is why it is 72 pages (signatures of 24 pages). that will be a french binding project, but i'm still trying to decide how to do a cover if i do only french binding, since i foolishly bought paper before my first project and now have a shit ton of gorgeous but very thin paper - french binding doesn't have a cover so i gotta do some research. and after THAT i got permission from ash to bind two thousand miles away, but i can see you a fic that i love so much and which has similar framing (short scenes, social media posts, texts threads). it contains chapters which is a different challenge. also the anxiety starts to kick in when i'm working on other people's fic, so i want to have done the baby sharks fic first so i can see at least what that kind of spacing will look like and how to work with it. this is why i do not do podfic lol i have so much anxiety about honoring people's creative works appropriately and respectfully.

AND THEN. i feel like i shouldn't even say this so as not to spoil the surprise, but i'm already deep into the post and i don't know who is still reading. i know i would have refreshed tumblr to close the cut tag and gone to look at something else by now. anyway i want to try to bind all of lorna's witch verse, which i initially chose because eat0crow said their instructions worked best for fic that is 5k-20k and i thought well it's 27k so i'll just split it in half and treat every fic as a chapter. but now that i've seen how it goes with a 6.5k fic and also experienced HOW MUCH OF A PAIN IN THE ASS word is, i think i might try coptic binding to get it all done at once! (here is a video example.) i was rly reluctant to do any kind of hardcover binding as i didn't want to store davy board and all the tools necessary for davy board, but i'm in love with lorna and ella (who asked for a copy when she found out i am making one for lorna!) so now i'm like ok i better go for broke on this one lol.

anyway great to have a new hobby. my friends are always fussing at me to engage my brain other than writing fic or watching sports, and it's good to stretch muscles that have been dormant for a decade. excited to try new things, as you can see by the amount of paragraphs in this post. i always wanted my own bone folder in college and now i have one!!!!! sorry to my boss who spent so long and so much effort teaching me book conservation, i know you wanted me to be an academic conservation librarian and i feel bad every day that i threw your hard work down the drain and now work in a public library and decided to use the skills you taught me so carefully and gently thirteen years ago to bind gay fanfiction about hockey players.

#birdbindin'#fresno oilers.txt #the tl;dr of this post is simply: i love to try new things #i went to the most inconsistently booked multi-choir choral concert tonight instead of the cuda game and a lot of it was just not pleasant #so i needed to unwind by writing the world's longest post about a single fic zine lol

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