#Kind of abandoned ship a while ago but I want to come back so here I am

[strawberrycartt]

Some Mammons I drew in 2022

[theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction]

Imagine telling Luffy about why you don’t like Shanks…

“Why are you always so upset with Shanks?” Luffy wondered.

You brushed the young boys damp curls and twirled a finger around each strand to define the shape.

“He and I used to travel the seas, you know? We fought sea beasts and all kinds of pirates together.”

Luffy leaned forward. “Really? Was it cool?”

“Very cool and dangerous.” You reminded him with a small hair ruffle to set him back on the chair properly. “We were caught in an ambush and I was injured. Shanks brought me home, promising that we’d set off again after I was healed.”

Luffy grew excited. Maybe if Shanks came for you, he could also be taken along for the journey.

“Are you healed? Do you know when he’ll take you?” He asked.

You frowned and replied rather bitterly. “I was healed up over four years ago.”

Shanks had the audacity to pay a visit these last few months and spend time with Luffy while pretending like nothing had happened. It infuriated you and Luffy clearly caught wind of it.

There was a knock at the door. Your eyes darted up to see Makino standing there with a smile for Luffy.

“The ship has made port.” She told the boy.

Luffy jumped off the seat and ran for the exit. “Sorry Y/n, I have to go!”

You sighed at his speed hoping that he’d be careful on his way to the docks.

Makino looked at you while you put the chair away. “Are you coming as well?” She asked and when you didn’t reply she continued. “He’s been asking for you.”

You glanced over your shoulder. “Tell him I-”

“I’m not telling him you drowned again. You’ll have to face him one way or another.” Makino said and then left to resume her duties at the bar.

Honestly, you’d rather not seek out the pirate who abandoned you. Let him have his fun. Yes, you couldn’t avoid him forever but you could reduce the hours in his presence.

And so that’s what you set out to do, you walked wherever the straw hat wasn’t. If he was at Party’s Bar, you were at home. If he was at the docks, you were by the furthest windmill.

You last saw the red-haired pirate downing a bottle of booze at the bar with his little curly haired shadow on the chair beside him. While they were busy, you decided to rearrange the furniture in your home finally able to tend to things that had been long neglected thanks to Luffy always running in and out of trouble.

Fixated on stacking books by the corner of the front room, you missed the soft padding of footsteps coming to a halt by the open door.

“I heard you ‘drowned’.” A voice said, sending chills down your spine. “Imagine my surprise when Luffy told me that you did his hair this morning.”

Shanks mused at you as he stood by the threshold of your door.

Damn, when did he leave the bar? You rolled your eyes and then turned around to place a blanket into a wooden drawer near to where he stood.

“Odd.” You hummed. “I thought you would have welcomed a lie? Aren’t you filled with them or is that only when they’re directed at me?”

Shanks stepped into the room and took your hand to stop you from walking to the next task. He knew exactly what you were referring to. For months you both had avoided the topic by the way you dodged him but this was finally the opening he needed to clear the air.

“I never lied. I fully intended to come back here in three months. But each danger I faced, every terror that sailed into our path and all I could see was the risk of losing you.”

You scoffed at him. Captain Shanks of the Red-haired Pirates was scared? You were surprised his nose hadn’t grown.

Not wanting to talk further, you attempted to leave the house entirely when the man who stole your heart caught you once more.

“Hey,” Shanks took the reins and guided you to the wall, gently bracing you against it. He was tired of the anger of the anger in your eyes, only wanting you to see him like you once did. His hands settled in their rightful place on your waist.

“There are very few things that I am afraid of - but from that list, the fear of losing you is at the very top.”

As you stared in his warm eyes, you were reminded of a saying he often said aboard calmer seas and private moments.

Shanks gazed back at your face, the one he was deprived of seeing each day. He brought one hand to rest against your chest and raised your own to sit above his own. He leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours in a delicate kiss before pulling away gently.

“I’m not a selfish man by nature.” He whispered. “But for your life and your love, I can be.”

~ More imagines here ~

[rorywritesjunk]

The stars in their courses will run and bring their hearts earthward to hear her.

Buggy brings his son in to the bakery to get a treat for his birthday. You like decorating cakes. Rating: PG-13ish. Warning: Fast paced in a way. Six month time skip. Pregnancy. Buggy's a little insistent and sulky. Talk of child abandonment. A/N: Now that Birdie has a name I think of her a lot tbh.

Title comes from “Girl in the Garden” by S.J. Tucker.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6

Chapter 4

Six months had passed by when he walked into the bakery. You grimaced when you saw him, shaking your head as he tried not to make eye contact, looking everywhere but at you. You didn’t remember his name after meeting him those few times, but he remembered you by the small smile he gave you as he placed an order for a cake.

“Who’s birthday is it?” You asked as you wrote down the order. “And what’s a name for pickup?”

“It’s for Darby’s birthday.” Cabaji said quickly; you looked up and raised an eyebrow.

“So, his half birthday then?” You said as you straightened up a bit. “Since his birthday was six months ago, which is when I met him and his dad.”

“It’s… the Captain’s birthday?” 

“For a pirate, you’re really bad at lying.” You pointed out as you ripped the order off the pad and tore it up. “I thought pirates were good at it.” You sighed and rubbed your face. “Look, just buy a dozen cupcakes and call it good, okay? I don’t know why you’re here with your terrible lies but I don’t have time for it.”

“R-Right.” He took the box he was given of assorted cupcakes and gave you some berry before leaving, but not before looking back at you once more before he stepped out the door. Why he had to come check on you and not the Captain himself was something Cabaji was curious about. Darby spent the last six months talking about you, asking when you’d come and cook pancakes again, and to his credit, Buggy was patient and kind with the kid with all the questions but he took the frustrations of the situation out on his crew.

Buggy wasn’t handling it well, the way things ended between you two and Cabaji had seen it firsthand. He knew his Captain had a big heart, one that often opened up when he thought he’d found a kindred soul, someone he could fall in love with and sail the seas together, but when you walked out after breakfast that morning, he was shattered, even if he didn’t tell it to anyone, but Cabaji saw it. 

When Buggy saw they would be near your town again, he sent Cabaji out to check in on you. And boy, Cabaji had news to share and he wasn’t sure how the captain was going to take it.

Once he delivered the cupcakes to the kitchen, he sought out Buggy. He was in Darby’s room, brushing his son’s hair out while trying to figure out how to style it for the day. The three year old hated sitting still but Buggy had given him some blocks to distract himself with while he worked. Cabaji knocked on the door and cleared his throat; Buggy looked up and glared at him.

“What?”

“I saw her, sir.” 

“And?”

“She’s… changed.” Cabaji trailed off and Buggy rolled his eyes.

“How? She get a haircut, grow shorter, or is she missing some limbs? I don’t really care, I was just curious.” He said as he began to braid Darby’s hair. 

“She’s pregnant, Captain Buggy.”

Buggy stopped what he was doing and slowly looked over at Cabaji. “She’s what now?”

“Pregnant.” He said hesitantly. “I didn’t… ask how far along she was.”

“Did she have a ring?”

“I didn’t see one.”

Buggy nodded slowly and turned back to his son. “You can go.”

“Sir-”

“I said go.” His hand flew at Cabaji, pushing him out of the room before yanking the door shut. So, you were pregnant. You must have found a man shortly after Buggy which didn’t sit well with him. It wasn’t as if you belonged to him or that he was the jealous type, he just… wanted to know what you’d been up to since you left the ship during breakfast and broke his son’s little heart. It wasn’t that Buggy cared about you, no, he just didn’t like seeing his son so sad. You two weren’t in any sort of relationship after two days, but maybe he needed to pay you a visit, just to say hi, check in with you, that sort of thing.

~

When you walked up to the bakery the next day, you noticed someone was waiting outside. That wasn’t too unusual, often someone was waiting for the place to open so they could grab a breakfast pastry and coffee, completely normal, but it was just that when you got closer and saw who it was, you paused for a moment. He hadn’t changed in six months, still had his blue hair hidden, his makeup was still smeared, and his nose just as red.

“Uh… hi.” You weren’t really sure what to say. You didn’t expect to see him. “Bakery opens in an hour.”

“The donuts were tasty, Darby wanted more.” Buggy said with a shrug. “Wanted to be first in line to get the best ones.”

“Those were cupcakes.”

Buggy paused for a moment before shrugging again. “Same thing.”

You sighed and unlocked the door, gesturing for him to follow you in. This was a dumb idea, why were you doing this? Why were you letting him into your place of work while you tried to get ready for the day? You locked the door behind him and went to make him a cup of coffee.

“Why are you here?” You asked with a frown. “Is Darby okay?”

His gaze softened just a bit at you asking about his son. He nodded as he took a seat. “He's fine. Growing like seaweed.”

You didn't correct him as you brought him his coffee. He grabbed your wrist gently before you could pull away, looking up at you, eyes briefly flickering to your growing stomach.

“So, find some hot guy to make an honest woman outta ya?”

“Not exactly.” You said; his eyes narrowed and you sighed, removing yourself from his grasp and putting his hand on your stomach. “I was pretty shocked, the two times I wasn't careful and some goofy pirate knocked me up.”

“Wait-”

“Yep.” You stepped away from him and headed to the kitchen. He got up to follow, leaving the coffee behind. “Six months along. Kinda getting tired of being on my feet all day.” 

“Why are you still working then?”

It was hard not to snap an answer back at him. Admittedly, you found the fool to be handsome, it was hard not to in some ways, but he was certainly dumb sometimes. You bit back a retort as you started to bend down to get something but Buggy’s hands were there to help you. You pointed out what you needed and they grabbed them, putting them up on the counter for you.

“I can't not work, Buggy. I need money, especially with this little one on the way.” You sighed. “And then once the baby is born, I'll be coming to work with them because… I don't have anyone to help me.”

“I still have an open position on my ship.” Buggy said without missing a beat. “I… still want someone to help with Darby.”

“What, like a nanny?” You asked. Before, the idea was crazy to you. But now, with the baby growing inside you, it didn't sound half bad. Keeping up with the running of the bakery was driving you crazy. You’d come home exhausted, achy, feet sore and swollen. It was hard to want to get out of bed some mornings to do it all over again. You didn’t know how to pace yourself, barely even giving yourself a day off most of the time, and as you reflected on that for a moment, the invite did sound enticing. Maybe it was the changing hormones and emotions, but you ended up nodding. “Do I get my own room, or…”

“Own room, you take care of Darby, I'll pay you, it's quite the life, y’know.” Buggy shrugged. “He'd love to have you around.”

“Is he the only one?” You asked as you tapped one of his hands, pointing to a large mixing bowl that was up high. “Look, I didn't mean to leave the way I did, I just… was concerned with what you said. I really liked those two days with you, and I loved spending time with Darby.”

Buggy just shrugged. “He loved spending time with you and having you on the ship.”

You smiled softly and looked at him. “I just… need a few days to take care of some things.”

~

The way Darby's eyes lit up when he saw you at breakfast one morning made you think the decision to come aboard was the right one. He completely ignored Buggy in favor of hurrying over to you and holding his arms up to be picked up, which you did, pulling him into your lap, which was just a little uncomfortable with your stomach being in the way, but he didn't seem to mind. He was just happy to see you.

“Clearly you're the favorite.” Buggy sighed as he fixed Darby’s plate for him. You had arrived the night before after Darby went to bed. Buggy gave you the Grand Tour of the ship, finishing off where your room was, the small storage room that was between Buggy's and Darby's room and it was perfect. He had it converted pretty quickly and you appreciated it, even though you ended up sleeping with Buggy that night.

“I can't help it.” You chuckled as you hugged Darby, kissing him on the forehead as he made himself comfortable on your lap. “I missed you, Darby. I'm excited to spend time with you!”

“With me?” He looked up at you with a frown. “Why?”

“She's going to stay with us for a bit, sweetheart.” Buggy told him as he set Darby's plate down in front of you, as well as your own. “She's going to live with us! That's great, right?”

“Really?” The little boy's eyes lit up as he looked at you. The smile on his face tugged at your heart and oh, you couldn't believe that you were going to do this, live on a pirate ship while pregnant, helping the captain raise this adorable child. 

“Oh, he's precious.” You chuckled as you hugged him. “Really! I'll get to play with you, we can cook and do whatever you want, Darby.”

Buggy wasn't sure he could handle the scene in front of him. Darby had the biggest smile on his face as he looked up at you while you had one arm around him while you used the other to start feeding yourself. It was apparent what kind of person you were with how attached his son was to you already, even after meeting you the first time and wandering off to see you the next day. Darby still didn't even go near most of the crew and they knew him since he was a baby.

It was a little too sweet and Buggy finally managed to look away, focusing on his own food while you answered Darby’s questions between bites while also encouraging the three year old to eat as well. Was this going to work out? It had been Buggy and Darby for the kid's entire life and now here you were, pregnant with Darby’s sibling, joining the family in some way. 

Buggy realized there was going to need to be some conversations happening.

~

“Can Darby call you mom?”

It was just before lunchtime the day you arrived. Darby was down for a nap while you were in the kitchen, preparing lunch for the three of you. You knew the two of you would need to talk, lay down rules, expectations and boundaries, things like that, but you just didn't expect that question out of the blue like that.

“Do you want him to?” You asked, looking up from the cheese sandwiches you were currently toasting. “I mean, I think it would be confusing if this new baby comes and we are saying ‘mommy and daddy’ around it, and he just calls you daddy…”

“I want him to be able to.” Buggy said a little too quickly. You frowned as he went to grab plates for the three of you. He hesitated for a second before looking at you. “Look, Darby’s mom didn't want him. We… we had a fling, I didn't know she was pregnant, and when I came to visit her, she told me either I take the kid or he goes to an orphanage.” He took a moment, cleared his throat, before adding, “He was a little baby, y’know. He was just a few weeks old and that bitch wanted to leave him at an orphanage.”

“Oh, Buggy…” You swallowed the lump in your throat and rubbed your eyes, trying to ignore the tears threatening to well up. “That's horrible.”

“I wasn't going to put my son through that. And… and he is my son, it's pretty obvious, and it hasn't been easy but I love that kid.” Buggy continued, no longer looking at you as he set the table. “Y’know, never thought I'd be a dad. Didn't think it was a possibility, but… here I am, raising one kid with another on the way.”

You lowered the heat on the stove before walking over to Buggy and touching his arm to get his attention. He glanced over at you and you took his hand, placing it on your swollen belly.

“We both know this isn't going to be perfect, we're probably going to fight and have other issues, but I'm fine if Darby wants to call me mom.” You told him as he sat down on a chair and leaned into you, resting his cheek on your stomach. “But I don't want to force it, let it happen naturally, okay?”

“Yea…” He trailed off, eyes closed as he made himself comfortable against you. You didn't move for a moment, rubbing his shoulder gently. 

“Are you sleepy?” You asked; he nodded. “Okay, I think it's time for you to take a nap after lunch. I'll take care of Darby so you can get some rest.”

“I'm too old for naps.” He mumbled in response.

“I feel like I had this conversation already today.” You chuckled as your fingers moved from his shoulder to the back of his neck. He shuddered, leaning into you further, and you kept it up for a few more minutes. “Okay, I need to get Darby up for lunch. After you eat, you take your nap.”

Buggy tilted his head up to scowl at you but you weren't bothered by it. You already saw that scowl on a three year old when you put him down for his nap a few hours ago. You just patted Buggy on the cheek before pulling away to plate the sandwiches before going off to collect Darby.

This was all either going to work out or explode into millions of pieces.

[justagalwhowrites]

Beskar Doll - Ch. 12: Reunion

It's been years, but the Mandalorian would know you anywhere. A continuation of Beskar Doll Ch. 1-11 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader

Warnings: Mention of DV, mention of attempted SA. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+

Length: 5k

9 ABY - Present Day

Din managed to stay away from you for three months.

He let his work swallow him up, taking every puck offered to him. No price was too low, any job that would keep him from realizing how empty his ship was without you in it was worth doing. He kept thinking it would get easier. He hadn’t been with you all that long, after all. You’d barely been friends, not really. But you were always there, some biting comment or teasing smile or kind touch suddenly acutely absent. 

Time, he thought, would fix it. Time and hunting every bounty he could get his hands on. 

It didn’t work. 

So it was only three months before he found himself back on Dantooine, going back to the coordinates you’d given him, landing outside your family’s home before being greeted by the kind but confused face of the woman who lived there. 

She invited him in, gave him her name - Aidla - offered him a drink and food but he turned her down. 

“So,” she said, pleasantries out of the way. “Can I ask what brings you by?” 

“I was… in the area,” he said, trying find a way to ask what he wanted to ask. “I thought I would see how Liska was doing. Is she here?” 

Aidla smiled sadly, a knowing look in her eye. He was reminded of you for what had to be the 20th time that day. 

“I’m sorry but no, she’s not,” she leaned forward, putting her hand on his arm. “She’s married now, living on the other side of the planet.” 

Din froze. He could hear the blood pounding in his ears. Married. You couldn’t be married. He’d seen you just months ago - he’d touched you, felt you come apart in his arms just months ago. You’d never mentioned anyone, you couldn’t be married… 

“It was arranged,” she gave his arm a gentle pat before she sat back in her seat. “It will help her blend in. But he’s a good man, they have a home in the country. It’s a simple, quiet life but…” 

He nodded slowly. Part of him wanted to find you. He could, if he tried. It wouldn’t even take him long, he could be at your door in a day - maybe just hours if he got lucky. 

But that would be selfish. The night before the fight in Bisneth, you’d told Keci you wanted something simple, quiet. You wanted peace. What was he going to offer you? A life of hunting bail jumpers through the galaxy? A place where you’d be shot and hurt and need to resort to the skills you resented so deeply? All because he missed touching you, missed watching how your brilliant mind worked? No. He wasn’t going to take this from you. 

“She cared for you, I think,” Aidla said after a moment. She looked down at the cup of tea in her hands. “I’d never met her before you brought her here but… there’s a lot of her mother in her. I think she cared for you very deeply.” 

Din was silent, digging his fingers into his gloved palm. 

“I can tell her you came by,” she said eventually.

“Don’t,” he said quickly. “I don’t want to disrupt her life here. I just wanted to know… how she was.” 

He started visiting Aidla and her husband, Tam, every few months. Each time he was hoping you might be there, visiting, while also hoping he wouldn’t see you so he wouldn’t have to explain himself. You were never there. But she told him that you were doing well. Tam saw you every few months when he met with your husband for trading. He usually came home with a letter, which Aidla shared with Din. You wrote about walking the countryside, asked for recipes your mother used to make you as a girl, criticized recent moves by the New Republic. He could almost see your face, hear your voice as he read your words. None of it seemed to ease the ache and longing inside him. 

More than two years after he’d left you on Dantooine, he landed at Aidla’s but found the place abandoned. It was clear no one had been there in more than two months, their fields overgrown and thick layers of dust clinging to the tea set Aidla always took down when she offered him the tea that he always politely refused. 

He went see their neighbors and asked after them, but it was only bad news. Aidla and Tam had both died - a speeder accident in Dantoo Town. 

Din trudged back to the Razor Crest and sat there, staring straight ahead, until the sun set and he realized he’d just been looking into nothing. He’d grown to like Aidla and Tam, Aidla in particular. She was the last, tenuous link he had to you. Now you were really, truly gone. He seriously considered, one last time, tracking you. But he pictured you, happy in your peaceful and quiet life, and got ready to leave Dantooine for the last time.

Before he left, he went inside their home and found your letters, bringing them aboard his ship. Once he’d jumped to the next destination, he pulled off his gloves and removed his helmet, holding the pages you’d once held, reading words you’d written without a mask between you. 

It seemed you haunted him even more after that. He’d catch a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye in crowded markets, hear some reflection of you when someone near him said something equally infuriating and insightful. It was as though his loose connection with you had kept you at bay and without it, the lack of you was going to drown him. 

When he took the bounty for the child, the only reason he’d stayed in a room filled with Imps is that he thought, for a moment, the bounty would be you. If he had a reason to track you, that would be different. He’d have to find you then, protect you or at least warn you. Instead, it was the kid. 

He knew you’d have never left the child with Imperials. It made him sick that he had, even for a bit. If you’d been there, you’d have taken off with him immediately. Maker, by now, you’d have probably figured out some language to speak with him, established a clear line of communications and a deep understanding with the little guy. 

So when he and the child were lying low on Garqi, he wasn’t surprised when a Naboo blaster caught his eye as he passed a weapons resale stand. He stopped for a moment, looking at it. He remembered you pressing one just like it into his chest the day he’d left you behind. 

“How much?” He asked the man working the stand. 

“Haven’t had a chance to price it yet,” he said, hardly glancing at the weapon. “Just bought it off a girl this morning but I got a deal on it. I’ll let it go for 750.” 

“This morning?” Din asked, pulling out the credits without bothering to barter. He handed them over and the man handed him the weapon. 

“Aye,” he nodded once. “She was impatient, that one. Seemed ready to be on her way.” 

“Do you know where I could find her?” He asked. The man behind the counter frowned at him. “I just have an interest in pieces from Naboo. I’d want to buy more, if she has it.” 

“She didn’t look like she was from around here,” he shrugged after a moment, going back to cleaning a blaster. “Looked like she’d gotten into it with some folks she shouldn’t have, too, she was banged up. The cheapest beds are only a few clicks east, across from the brothel. She’d likely be there.” 

The Child cooed at Din’s hip. He gave the man a stiff nod and started off, sweeping the crowds, looking for you everywhere he passed. 

It was unlikely that it was you, he told himself. You were on Dantooine. You were married. You weren’t on your own, trying to navigate this Maker-foresaken galaxy with no one. It wouldn’t be you. So he wasn’t prepared when he caught sight of you, lugging a box outside a building and putting it with the trash. Your hair was shorter and you were thinner but it was you. 

He walked toward you like he was hypnotized. You didn’t look anywhere but the ground as you went back inside, you didn’t see him coming. When he made it in the door, the building was dim, barely clothed women strolling through the room. He frowned. What were you doing here? 

“A Mandalorian,” a woman said, slinking up and draping herself over Din’s chest. “Not often we get one of your kind.” 

“I’m looking for someone,” he said, looking down at her. “The woman who was just outside, where is she?” 

“Kelda?” She asked. Din had never heard the name, but nodded. The woman frowned. “I don’t have her working the floor, I’m sure there’s something I can interest you in…” 

“I’d like to speak with her,” he replied. She glanced around before leaning into his ear. 

“Look, I can take you to the back but I don’t want her on the floor until her face is healed,” she said. “It bothers the clients.” 

“I’ll pay,” he said, pulling out some credits. With that, she smiled, taking him by the hand and leading him through the bar. The Child shifted in the bag and Din tucked him down, covering his head with the flap. No need for him to see all this quite yet. 

The back was more brightly lit and even from behind, he recognized you. 

“Kelda,” the woman said. “Someone requested you.” 

“What?” He could hear the frown in your voice. It was such a familiar sound, even three years later. You turned to face him and froze, staring at him, your eyes wide. 

You looked different now, especially up close. Your hair was in a single braid that hung barely past your shoulders, the toned muscle from the training you’d done for years gone. Your face was almost gaunt and the remains of bruises were still there, yellowing, and there was a still healing cut on your cheek. He forced his hands to stay at his sides and not reach for you. 

“Didn’t know you knew a Mandalorian,” the woman said, looking at you with suspicion. Your eyes narrowed. 

“I don’t,” you replied, turning back to your work. “Never seen the man before in my life.” 

“Well, he paid for your time,” she shrugged. “Take care of him and then you can go.” 

You sighed but kept your back to him. The woman left and your fingers drummed the countertop in front of you. 

“So, what?” You asked, still facing the wall. You picked up something on the table and started cleaning it. “You have a thing for the help now? There’s a whole room of girls actually on the menu, you know, go bother one of them.” 

Din ignored your hostilities but kept his distance. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked 

“You’re in my sector,” you snapped. “We’re just a stone’s throw from Dantooine. What are you doing here?” 

“Why aren’t you on Dantooine?” He asked, moving closer. He couldn’t help it, you were right there. 

You flung the thing you were cleaning onto the counter, forcefully, and spun to face him. 

“I don’t know, Din,” you looked up at him, your eyes finding his immediately. A skill you hadn’t lost. The flesh around your eyes was discolored, healing. “What do you think? Take your best guess.” 

“Someone hurt you,” he said. He balled his hands into tight fists to keep from trying to touch you. 

“Good on you,” you pushed off the counter behind you, grabbing the piece you were cleaning - some bar tool, he guessed - and took it to a shelf to put it away. “Are we done here? Get your money’s worth?” 

“Can we go somewhere?” He asked, keeping his voice gentle. He still couldn’t believe that you were standing there, in front of him. Fully formed, not hints of you he imagined in every corner of the universe. “I’d like to talk with you.” 

“I’d rather not,” you replied. 

“Please,” he said. There was pleading and desperation in his voice. He didn’t care about hiding it. 

“Why do you care?” You asked, exasperated and tired. His head tilted, examining you. Did you really think he didn’t care? 

“I just do,” he said eventually. “Please. Let’s talk.” 

You crossed your arms, looking him up and down, before you sighed. 

“Fine,” you said. “There’s a cafe, four doors down from here. Tea’s decent. I’ll meet you there in an hour.” 

“Thank you,” he said, watching you. Your sharpened edges seemed softer as you looked back at him. It was like you were fighting to still hate him. 

He turned and left, making sure the kid was still tucked away in his bag, before heading to the cafe. 

There was a secluded booth in the corner and he took it, hoping it would be quiet enough that you felt free to talk. The child was getting fidgety, so he took him out of the bag and ordered him a bone broth from the waitress who was happily fawning over his long ears and large eyes. 

When the waitress got called away - after bringing two refills of bone broth - Din tucked the kid into the booth beside him, wanting to avoid drawing attention, and watched the door. You arrived sooner than he’d expected, giving the waitress a soft smile and a nod before finding his table. It was hard to stay seated. He wanted to stand up, touch you, pull you against him. Instead, you sat across from him, crossing your arms as you sat back in the booth, examining him. 

“So,” you said eventually, eyebrows raised. “I’m here. What do you want?” 

*** 

It’s not like you’d picked Garqi to be safe. You hadn’t actually picked Garqi at all, not really. It was the only place you could reach with the handful of credits you’d been able to access on your way out of your house, your husband unconscious and bleeding on the floor. You didn’t have time to pack, you just grabbed the data pad with the last of your life from Naboo - the pictures, the songs, the only things that remained of your family - your knife and the credits you could get to before stealing the speeder and running. 

No, Garqi hadn’t been a strategy. But it was so remote, you thought the chances of running into anyone you knew here was slim. You hadn’t expected to see the Mandalorian show up at the bar where you’d managed to beg your way into a job. The pay was barely enough to keep you afloat, a cheap bed at the inn across the way and a meal every other day so you could try to salt enough credits away to get a ticket to a midrim world. You needed distance between yourself and Dantooine, the sooner the better. After selling the blaster, you had almost enough to buy the credentials you’d need to get off world. But now, Din was here. 

Din, the man who’d all but haunted you for years. Every flash of metal, every modulated voice made you think of him. So did holochess boards and whiskey and the sound of blaster fire and the feeling you got when you climbed a tree to get closer to the sky. He was fucking everywhere all the damned time. Except now he was really here, looking at you from across a table. His eyes were ranging over you, you could feel them as they ran up your waist, arms, neck, face. You tried to resist the urge to hide your still healing face - bacta was definitely a luxury you couldn’t afford - and just let him look like you weren’t ashamed of it. 

“Well?” You raised your eyebrows, making your damaged skin pull uncomfortably. 

Before he had a chance to respond, a small, green hand appeared at the edge of the table. You frowned as a tiny, green creature with overwhelmingly large eyes and ears pulled itself onto the table. Din sighed. 

“Who’s this?” You asked, leaning forward, face and voice softening. The creature reached for you before toddling forward, its clawed hand outstretched. 

“Kid,” Din sighed, picking him up at the waist and pulling him into his lap. “We’re trying to have a conversation.” 

The creature cooed, looking up at Din. You cocked your head, looking at him. You’d never seen anything quite like it. When his dark eyes met yours, there was a twinge of curiosity in you. But it was… odd. The feeling wasn’t your own. It was coming from the tiny thing in the Mandalorian’s lap. 

“Oh, let him play,” Shura, the waitress, said, bringing you a cup of tea. “He’s not hurting anyone by being on the table top. Does he need more bone broth?” 

“Sure,” Din said, sighing as he set the creature on the table. It smiled at him before looking back at you, a spark of happiness reaching you this time. Shura cooed at him before leaving the table again. 

“Hi there,” you smiled at the creature, even though it still hurt your cheeks. He toddled for you, curious again, his hand out stretched. He touched your face, smiling as he explored your skin. You leaned forward and he grabbed your hair, giving it a firm tug. Satisfaction, this time. 

“OK kid,” the Mandalorian said, reaching across the table and picking him up, pulling him back into his chest. “We don’t want to hurt her.” 

“I don’t mind,” you said quickly. The creature looked back to you, cocking its little head, ears wiggling. 

“What… is it?” You asked, reaching a finger across the table. The creature reached out and took it, all three of its tiny fingers wrapping around the tip of yours. There was the foreign, outside feeling of satisfaction again when it made contact. 

“He’s a… quarry that went wrong,” Din said. “Kind of like you.” 

You laughed darkly for a moment. A quarry that went wrong. One way to describe it, you supposed. 

“I was a step down from a quarry, though,” you said. The child released your finger and looked back up at Din, the odd sensation of his feelings leaving with his gaze. How strange. You looked up at the Mandalorian. “I was just cargo that never happened, right?” 

Shura set the bone broth down in front of the creature who looked overjoyed, reaching his tiny hands forward and gripping the small cup with both hands. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked after Shura was out of earshot. 

“You already figured that one out,” you replied, taking a sip of your tea. “Regular genius that you are.” 

“You know what I’m asking, Doll.” 

You winced in spite of yourself. You hadn’t heard his name for you in so long. 

“You got new armor,” you said instead of answering. “Quite the upgrade.” 

“Answer the question.” 

“I don’t owe you a damn thing, Mando,” you said, chin defiantly titled up. 

“No,” he replied. “But I doubt you want me hunting down everyone you’ve spoken to in the last month until I find whoever hurt you so I can kill them.” 

You glared at him, taking another sip of tea before setting it down in front of you and crossing your arms across your body, as though they would protect you from him in some way. 

“And if they’re already dead?” You asked. 

“Are they?” You opened your mouth to reply but he cut you off. “You’re a good liar, Doll, but not with me. Are they still alive.” 

He was right. He saw right through you. He saw through you when you pressed the blaster to his chest, when you said you hated him, when you said it was fine that you were a warm body. The asshole always saw right through you. 

“They’re alive,” you replied. “But I handled it. He’s in worse shape than me.” 

“I doubt it.” 

“Really?” You replied. “Because I took one of his eyes, Din, and there are some things even bacta can’t fix.” 

“Anything to eat today, Kelda?” Shura came up, smiling at you. 

“No,” you smiled tightly back. “Just the tea, thanks.” 

“You know, if you want…” she began, but you cut her off. 

“I’m fine,” you said quickly. “But thanks.” 

She looked at the Mandalorian, gave him and awkward smile and the kid a scratch on the end of his ear and left again. 

“Why didn’t you kill him?” He asked after a moment. You sighed. 

“Seems like I’ve killed enough for one lifetime,” you said, staring down at the table. “I couldn’t bring myself to do it again. Not this time.” 

He was silent for a moment. 

“Where was your husband?” He asked quietly. 

You were about to answer, an automatic reply, when you realized it. 

“How did you know I’m married?” You asked, fingers digging into your arms, worried you might try to punch him if you weren’t holding onto something. You’d never have been able to beat him on strength but you were well trained. There was a time where you thought you could have held your own against the Mandalorian. That was no longer the case. “Have you been tracking me? Stalking me?” 

“No.” 

The baby on his lap cooed, holding up his empty cup and waving it at him. Din took it and set it on the table, out of the child’s reach. The creature pouted, a feeling of disappointment coming from him when his oversized eyes found yours. You looked back up at the Mandalorian. 

“Then how,” you had to speak through gritted teeth. 

“I checked up on you once or twice,” he said. You could feel that his eyes weren’t meeting yours. “When I was in the region, I stopped to see Aidla and Tam. She told me you were married.” 

“That’s a lie,” you snapped. “She would have told me…” 

“I asked her not to,” he replied. “I didn’t want to disrupt your life. You were married, you had peace and quiet. It’s what you wanted.” 

“So why did you come back?” You demanded. “You didn’t want to disrupt my life, why come see me at all?” 

“I tried not to,” he said quietly. 

“Why?” 

He was silent again for a moment. 

“Where was your husband?” 

You stared him down from across the table, waiting for him to put it together. You knew he would. He stiffened. 

“How long.” It was a growl and not really a question. 

“He waited a while,” you shrugged. “Made it so I had no other options.” 

“How. Long.” 

You sighed. 

“It lasted about six months,” you replied. “It was never great but it was fine, for a while, even though I wasn’t… well, I wasn’t good at giving him what he wanted. But he ran out of patience with me after Aidla and Tam died about nine months back. They were the only contacts I had, we lived in the middle of nowhere so I had no friends. I couldn’t access the speeder. My parents died before you even left me on Dantooine, not that I would have risked asking them for help…” 

You sighed, looking at the wall next to you. You couldn’t believe you were doing this again, telling this damned man everything you hated about yourself. 

“Anyway,” you sighed. “I can take a lot and I did a decent enough job holding him off considering I hadn’t kept my skills up in years. But a few weeks ago, he was drunk, got upset that I’d refused my ‘wifely duties’ for a bit too long, tried to take what he wanted. So, I took his eye. And his ear.” 

“You left him alive.” He was seething. 

“Yeah,” you nodded. You met his eyes, almost pleading with him to understand. “I just… I couldn’t do it. It’s not that I ever loved him but… I needed to not be the thing that killed him. Even if he deserved it.” 

“Is he still on Dantooine?” Din’s hand was on the table, fist clenched tight. The kid looked concerned. You titled your head, seeing if he’d meet your eyes so you could confirm it. He did, the worry tinged by confusion. 

“Don’t be afraid little guy,” you said, smiling softly at him. “Everything’s alright.” 

The Mandalorian looked down at him and back to you. 

“Sorry,” you said, looking up at Din. “He’s not looking at you so you probably can’t feel it but he’s a little freaked out…” 

“What do you mean ‘can’t feel it?’” 

“Oh,” you frowned, looking back to the creature who was looking up at the Mandalorian. “Do you not feel it?” 

“Feel what?” 

“When he looks me in the eye, I can feel some of what he does,” you said. “I’m sorry, I thought you’d have realized that by now, I figured it was just part of… whatever species he is.” 

Din was quiet for a moment before he picked the baby up, turned him around and lifted him in front of his face, so their eyes would be level. The Child cooed happily. 

“Any luck?” You asked after a moment. He just shook his head. You shrugged. “Probably can’t make it through your thick helmet.” 

The Mandalorian grunted and put the kid on the bench beside him, pulling a metal ball out of the bag at his side and handing it to him. He took it happily. Din turned his attention back to you. 

“Where’s your husband now.” 

“Why?” You asked. “He’s not hurting me anymore, that’s all that matters.” 

“No,” he replied. “Tell me where he is, Doll, or…” 

“Or what?” You asked. “You’ll forget I ever happened? I was cargo, Mando. You did your job, it’s done. It’s been done for years.” 

“I will hunt him,” he said, his voice hard. “If you tell me, it will be easier but I don’t need you to. I can track him without you and I will make him pay.” 

“I don’t want you to,” you said, jaw tense. “I don’t want your help, I don’t want to owe you a damn thing. I want you to leave me alone.” 

“What are your plans from here?” He asked. “Do you plan on working at that… place forever?” 

“Only until I save up enough credits to catch a transport out of here,” you shrugged. “Figured if I can make it to midrim, I can find work as a translator or something. I just need identification for whoever I’m going to be next and the ticket off this planet and then I’m set. It should only take me a few more months, I can lay low the long.” 

“And if he comes looking for you?” He asked. “You sold your blaster.” 

You frowned, eyebrows knitting together. 

“How did you know that?” 

He pulled the weapon out from a pouch on his leg setting it on the table between you. You picked it up, holding it with reverence. 

“Bought it off a weapons trader earlier,” he said. “It’s how I found you, said he bought it off a girl this morning, one who was in trouble. I thought it might have been you. It was a long shot but I had to check…” 

“What’d you pay for it?” You asked, turning it over in your hands. You’d only sold it hours before but you’d resigned yourself to never seeing it again. It seemed miraculous that you had it now. 

“Just 750 credits,” Din replied. You laughed dryly. 

“You got a deal,” you said, setting it down in the middle of the table. “Thought that guy had half a brain, figured he’d get it without me pointing it out. The royal seal at the base of the handle increases its value. You could turn it around and sell it for 2,000 on Coruscant. But his loss is your gain.” 

“Keep it,” he said. “Absolutely not,” you shook your head firmly. 

“Doll…” 

“I mean it,” you replied. “I’m not going to owe you. I can’t owe you.” 

“And I’m not going to leave you here, defenseless, when someone nearly beat you to death,” he snapped. 

“Mando,” you sighed but he leaned across the table, fists clenched. 

“If you won’t take the blaster, I’ll give you two choices,” he said. 

“Fine. What are they?” 

“Choice one, you come with me and I take you wherever you want to go,” he replied. You opened your mouth to protest but he cut you off. “I could use some help protecting the kid and picking up odd jobs. I’ll let you work your way through so you don’t owe me. Choice two, you stay here and I hunt your husband so I can kill him.” 

“That is not fair,” you fought to keep from yelling at him. “You can’t back me into a corner like that!” 

“You forced my hand,” he shrugged. “If you won’t keep yourself safe, you haven’t left me another option.” 

“Is this fun for you?” You snapped. “Do you enjoy this?” 

“Enjoy seeing you hurting?” He replied, his voice oddly calm. “No.” 

He watched you, unflinching from across the table. You wondered, for a moment, if you could run. You weren’t especially strong at the moment and you didn’t have much in the way of credits. You could maybe get to the other side of the planet, but with no real identification, it would take a while before you found work again and you’d be stuck. And Din was Din. He’d find you before you made it off world. 

“Fine,” you hissed. “I’ll come with you.” 

“Good,” he said. 

“Tomorrow,” you said. “I have some things to finish up here.” 

“Fine,” he said. “Tomorrow morning, space port.” 

“Still in the Razor Crest?” He just gave you a stiff nod. “I’ll find you.” 

“If you don’t, I’ll find you.” 

You believed him.

A/N: Some info about where we're coming into the Mandoverse now that the fic and the show timelines will collide!

This is now 3 years after the first 11 chapters of this fic, set post Season 1 of the Mandalorian (the fight against Gideon has happened.) From here out, this will drastically diverge from canon (while hopefully maintaining characterization from the show for non-OC.)

[hetalia-club]

Stark Family Tree

This is only immediate family.

House Stark

Not my favorite house at all. But they are the subject of the main character of my main story in my AU.

Why exactly does Ivan think Peter is his bastard? Well probably because Amelia told him that, why did she do that? She's not even totally sure. She also told him that he was never born and she drank moon tea to get rid of it. Which is what she was SUPPOSED to do with Arthur’s kid but she didn't really feel like it. She lives for creating unnecessary drama in her life and pinning powerful men against each other and watching them fight over her like rabid dogs a girl needs a hobby I guess. Not like she can play Nintendo or something.

Not to mention if he just thought about it logically for a second, which is asking a lot here. He would realize the time lines don't even add up. But 'not using their brains' is what got both he and Arthur into this situation. Poor Amelia just wants to go to Essos...just someone drop her off there already and forget about her she causes so many problems. Abandon her in the Dothraki Sea she would be fine. She would be married to a Khal in a week and have them all convinced she’s their moon goddess. She would be fine.

Lovino actually doesn't care about any of this and he's off at Casterly Rock dicking around. Which is his favorite thing to do.

Now I can explain this situation a little bit. Amelia was engaged to Arthur first. 2 years ago before the story starts he snuck her away one night and took her sailing, this is where Peter comes from. When he was born her father shipped him away to Pyke to 'hide her shame' assuming when they got married they could just brush it under the rug and legitimize him and then no one would care. Which she was very upset about as you can imagine. She did get to name him at least before they sent him away. She would ask Arthur about him a lot in letters. This left Arthur at an Impasse, he had zero desire to raise a kid. But allowed Peter to just exist in his house basically because he was his key to Amelia. She started showing a lot more interest in him romantically when he had her son at his house.

After Arthur broke a treaty her father called off their engagement and set her up with Lovino Tyrell. Amelia didn't want to marry him because she thinks he's boring and instead started messing around with her cousin Ivan because she really just wants to fly his dragon across the sea. So she sets up this whole murder plot to kill his sister and Ivan is dragging his feet about actually doing it afraid for you know 'getting caught' which is a very big deal and would end them both being killed. So, Irritated with that Amelia starts up sending love letters to Arthur. I mean she doesn't actually mean what she's writing in them and it's more just to get him worked up and make him mad. Again she just wants his boats. Om her side that’s all this is and all it’s ever been, while Arthur genuinely believes she is madly in love with him and revels in it. He does not necessarily ‘love’ her in the traditional sense and she is mostly a status piece for him. She very beautiful and a lot of the high lords want her as matches for their sons, so it’s like a “haha look who I have” type thing for him. He does think she’s beautiful and he does think he’s in love with her. But again it’s more of an obsession than actual love. So she sets up an elaborate kidnapping for herself by him. He takes her away to Pyke. He wants to get married basically the second she steps off the ship and she just rolls with it. But she kind of hates him a little bit because he's a prick and always drunk but he's a pirate so what can you expect. But he's also like crazy about her, like actually crazy. Like 'If you try and leave me I'll lock you in a cell, but don't worry it would be a nice cell.' crazy. So now she's stuck there. Too bad so sad, play stupid games win stupid prizes. But she is pretty happy to have her son back, so that’s one win I guess.

[urfavslav]

my first attempt at cap. price characterization. gn reader. platonic. comfort4hurt. my speciality >:) thank you larkin for proofreading this <3

it's been weeks since you've been formally introduced to the task force, and nothing's gone wrong per say, it just felt off.

you were a spectacular soldier, being transfered and moved around to different teams was your normal, even picking up the callsign 'nomad' from others. although, your history of traveling around came with a price, you were shuffled around like a card from a deck. you wanted to gain some sort of connection, friendship.

that project had been abandoned a while ago. having decided to forgo a human companionship and any mutual emotions, you were cold, cruel even to anybody who tried to get close.

this task force seeming slightly different you kept your walls up, assuming you'd be out of here after some big mission. but no, time has passed and you've had slips, letting your cold, hard, façade crack. warmth seeping through. of course the members started to notice, slipping in a observant question here and there.

"you doing alright ?" a friendly face you'd come to know as 'john price' had sneaked beside you right outside of the base, starting up a conversation. you mindlessly nodded to his question. "what's up?" the response had come out bluntly, like an attempt to get him off your case.

"nothing, just wanted to check on you. you seem out of it." his cool blue eyes glazed over your figure, watching for clues of fatigue or such. "have you settled in well with the rest of the team?"

that was when all the memories came flooding back, nights where all you could do was replay the interactions of teammates like hitting a rewind button. where you could've possibly made them feign more interest before you were shipped off to some new team like a box of goodies. nights you spent listening to someone's video essay, desperate to have the comfort of hearing someone talk to you, imagining they were speaking directly to you. how pathetic ?

alas, it wasnt enough. you decided it was easier to block everybody out. a choice that wouldn't have been made without a lot of thought, but it seemed like the best idea to you. shutting out anybody rather than taking another chance.

you turned, focusing your attention on the captain, and somehow, it all came spilling out.

"I, I don't know..." your words came out in a blubbering mess, tears were quickly dropping over your cheeks as fast as you tried to wipe them up. "I've never been stationed in one place so long, and everybody is so kind. I haven't stayed this long to get to know a person this well. I want to be friends with them I just." you paused, smiling as you frantically wiped the remaining tears, "haven't been able to do so in so long."

and price just nodded, listening to each word that you said. he caught your attention, offering his open arms as a present of comfort while you just slid in them. "listen (name), it's alright. I don't think you're going anywhere as of yet, you can stay a while." he pulled back after a while, looking you in the eyes. "my team won't bite ... well maybe ghost but over all they're friendly people. opening up isn't the worst thing, maybe talk to em at lunch ?"

he gave your shoulder a light punch, before moving towards the door, "c'mon, it's cold outside."

★ all works belong to @urfavslav , do not repost on anywhere else with or without credit, do not plagiarise. thank you !

[cellsshapedlikestars]

Seeing all your cool home updates && half-watching some HGTV w/my mom while drawing had a simple prompt idea if you might be interested! Basically HGTV reno show Jonsa - Sansa is a designer and finally gets a chance for her own show but loses Rob (her #1 contractor) to an injury before filming starts && Jon jumps in (either to help Rob /or/ the studio execs (maybe Targs?) throw him in) and the two have to work together somehow. Idk idk, just wanted to share! <3

ANON.

No, you have no idea, I already HAVE a house reno wip. It's not super long, but... yeah. I've got that.

Here, I'll post what I have written of it, since we CAN'T GET ONTO AO3.

this isn't exactly your prompt, though I do honestly love yours a lot and sort of want to change mine. If I changed mine, the show Sansa works on would definitely be like Rehab Addict, where she restores old homes to their prior state instead of making them "modern"

But mine is sort of similar? This snippet is just the set up and doesn't include the part where Sansa decides to start a youtube channel for her renovations, (a la WabiSabE, which I used to watch and was probably the inspiration for this fic when I first started writing it like a year ago lol), and everyone starts shipping her with her contractor Jon, who she keeps forcing to be in the videos because she can't really make them without him being in it...

.

Sansa winces as her car hits another bump and jolts her in her seat.

“You owe me,” she huffs out, hands tight around the wheel.

“I know, I know,” Robb's voice comes through her sound system and fills the car. He's distracted, she can tell, and she bites back a snippy comment. Robb's just so busy, he couldn't possibly get away.

That's not fair, the small part of her brain that's still being rational thinks. Of course Robb couldn't drop everything and come out to the middle of nowhere to deal with their Great Uncle Brynden's estate. Robb's got a new baby and his job.

Robb's got a baby, Arya's got her tournaments, Bran has school, and Rickon's still underage. All of her siblings have lives they can't get away from. All except her.

No significant other, no kids. A tenuous career that she can technically do from anywhere.

“Oh no,” she breathes, when the house finally comes into sight through the trees.

“What's wrong?” Robb asks, his full attention back on her.

“Robb,” she whines, the car coming to a pathetic, rolling stop on the overgrown gravel drive. “It's a mess.”

“A mess?”

She doesn't answer, too busy staring at the mansion in front of her. Or, what used to be a mansion, she thinks.

It's still vaguely house-shaped, but... The roof is missing shingles in multiple places, the windows all seem busted out. The steps up to the covered front porch are fine, but the porch itself has a massive sinkhole, and half the wood looks rotted and ready to crumble.

Gods, if this is what the outside looks like...

“What kind of a mess?” Robb asks. She's just about to start listing the many problems when she hears another car approaching.

“I've gotta go,” she tells Robb. “I think the lawyer's here.” She hangs up before Robb can answer, and watches the other car slowly emerge through the trees up the bumpy road, past the broken gates, and onto the circular gravel drive. It stops behind her and a man gets out. She gets out, too, phone clutched in her hand, just in case.

“Miss Stark?” the man asks, and his face splits into a kind smile when she nods. “Perfect, perfect. I'm Samwell Tarly. It's nice to finally meet you.”

Sansa moves forward to shake the lawyer's hand. He isn't what she was expecting. He's young, for one – maybe only a few years older than her. And he seems just as nice in person as he'd been over the phone. She didn't think lawyers came in nice.

“We should have met at your office,” she says, eyeing up the weeds sprouting from between the gravel and brushing against her ankles. “I didn't realize the road here would be so...”

Mr. Tarly laughs. “This place has been abandoned for quite some time,” he agrees. “I never met Brynden myself, but I’d heard about him. Apparently he decided to up and travel the world and left this…”

Sansa looks back at the crumbling mansion and feels her face scrunch up. She tries to smooth it out. “So, how fast do you think I can sell this?” she asks.

That’s when Mr. Tarly’s smile falters. “Well,” he starts, hesitant, “you see, it’s in such a poor state, I can’t imagine anyone would be willing to buy it.”

“But the land must be worth something? They can just knock it down and-”

“Ah,” Mr. Tarly winces, and Sansa’s sentence breaks off, unfinished. “I suppose you didn’t read all the fine print?” At the slow shake of her head, he grimaces. “Riverrun Manor is a historic property. You, legally, are not allowed to tear the structure down. Anything you do needs to go through lots of committee approvals…”

“So what you’re saying,” Sansa says, closing her eyes as reality crashes down around her, “is that literally no one is going to want to buy this.”

“Maybe if you find someone who’s both very rich, and very interested in Riverlands history?”

She opens her eyes and there must be a glare on her face, because Mr. Tarly winces again.

Then she turns back to the manor, and really looks at it this time. Beneath the grime and the moss and the crumbling wood, she can see what it used to be.

“What if I fixed it up a bit?” she asks, turning back to the lawyer. “What if I just did the major repairs, do you think someone would buy it then?”

She doesn’t want to do that, but it beats letting the property sit around even longer and paying the taxes on it. Or, worse, not paying the taxes and having that on her and her sibling’s financial records.

“I’m not a real estate agent,” Mr. Tarly responds, looking at the building thoughtfully. “But this is a good location, lots of historic stuff around. I wouldn’t doubt you could sell it if the building weren’t… well, that.” He waves his hand towards the manor.

“Alright,” she nods. “Maybe we should head to your office to do the paperwork, though? Then I’ll… I guess I’ll look for a contractor?”

Sam nods, and a bright smile lights his face again. “Oh, I know someone you can call!”

[scordoesart]

Season 2 is right around the corner but here’s an au

Picking up from the end of season 1, Stede and the part of his crew that was marooned are sailing around trying to catch up with the revenge, but are ill-supplied to be doing so both due to the small size of the boat on the open ocean and that Stede didn’t seem to have much in ways of supplied with him when he left Barbados. I don’t think the marooned crew would consider Stede as their captain at this time (given that he abandoned them to the kraken!Ed). Stede would probably be avoidant in talking about where he’s been (in the “rules for thee but not for me” way he operates) other than he’s back to stay, has no money, and only what little experience he’s had in his brief time sailing as skills. They wouldn’t abandon Stede though, seeing him as maybe the only person who could fix this mess. Stede and his bunch get picked up by another ship who, turns out, is also looking for the Revenge. This ship is either operated or in the command of Bellamy (though he’s using a different name these days because he’s supposed to be dead). When Stede introduces himself, he’s somewhat met with “a pirate captain without a ship and that wasn’t mutinied upon?” questioning (some amusement there on Bellamy’s behalf), and Olu or all of the marooned people explains to their understanding what happened on the Revenge while Stede was gone to the best of their ability. The tale of the Revenge’s crew’s current state was left in just drives them both to want to find it even more. (A good chunk of this story is tracking down information to find the Revenge, which fortunately, Bellamy still has information sources in spades. Sometimes things just happen on the sea. Maybe they run into Jack again?). Bellamy may or may not be a less than open about who he’s chasing after on the Revenge (haven’t decided, or maybe it’s something that eventually comes out but isn’t said directly at first? Bellamy would have little reason to give up his many-year alias/charade to Stede and also strikes me as the kind of man to hold his cards close until he wants to play them). Stede gets to know more about Ed as a person from someone who knew him years ago without Ed there to curate ( Much like Jack and Ed, they act like no time has passed next they meet. I think they would have had a kind of rivalry but also an underlying respect for one another. or at least some base kind of comeradery) and also about pirating when money isn’t your background. Just to complicate things, because Stede and Ed have escaped the royal navy, pirate hunters have been sent after the Revenge (Hornigold maybe?). This is discovered at one of the ports they stop at for information. Time is ticking for them to find the Revenge. Stede no longer has the family inheritance money to lean on, and from the change in lifestyle he’s had to take to compensate, he develops a kind of understanding if not respect for Izzy’s steadfastness in duty of running the ship. ------------- Meanwhile back on the Revenge.... Things keep getting worse somehow. Izzy knows he Fucked Up (see walking on thin ice with Ed), but keeps telling himself Blackbeard is back and this is what he (Izzy) wanted. It’s what’s best for Ed. Izzy tells himself this, but even he knows it’s all gone wrong. He can’t face that reality because Izzy only finds the value of himself in serving Blackbeard. This wasn’t always true. It’s not something he’s ready to confront yet. Izzy is also managing (not well) the missing pinky toe whose stump is healing about as well as Lucius’ finger did. His swordsmanship has also suffered due to the lack of balance from its loss. He must hide all this to the best of his ability to keep up appearances, but of course things will go horribly wrong. Ed notices none of this of course; too wrapped up in his own grief and trying to be the Kraken for the one last reliable person (Izzy) he’s scared will leave him if he isn’t being exactly what Izzy expects him to be. After all, Stede disappeared on him without a word, Jack helped Izzy sell Stede (though ed probably interpreted it as selling both ed and stede) out to the British. Ed and Izzy haven’t been talking outside of strictly first mate-captain business talk. And even then, sometimes it’s Izzy (nervously but with a front to show the crew otherwise) managing without Ed. Lucius is living in the walls at this point and sees and hears much from people when they think they are alone. Ed’s fragile state and crying. Izzy’s struggles with his foot and brief forlorn expressions when he’s alone. Maybe there’s times when he’d grip the ring, saying nothing but mind going mile a minute to something Lucius wouldn’t know at this point. He could probably pick up that it’s a thought of someone missed. Lucius can’t keep a secret for long so he’d start conversing secretly with some of the crew. Jim perhaps? The two of them have a precident of secrets kept a  la season 1. Those that were part of the Revenge both don’t see a way out of this and start trying to plan for a means of a way out of this. Would there have been more crew transferred from the Queen Anne’s Revenge to the Revenge to fill out the crew with competent pirates? Maybe. Eventually though Izzy can’t ignore that this isn’t anything like the usual moodswings of  Blackbeard he’s accustomed to managing. Things aren’t changing and he’s already been dragged too deep underwater by the kraken to surface from the situation. Might as well continue to try and keep the rest of the crew afloat and working as they should be. ---------- (A maybe possibility of an event but not sure how it fits in characterization wise?) Lucius eventually reveals himself to Izzy (under funny accidental circumstances probably). Perhaps when things have gotten Really Bad for Izzy’s foot and he’s bed bound with fever and infection? Would Izzy admit to Lucius he didn’t think an infection would be the thing to do him in? Probably not, but maybe in such a situation he would? (I didn’t think through this scene too much, but maybe some more direct hints that there was someone else (Sam) for Izzy a lifetime ago? But since Izzy never really dealt with the loss other than just shove it down, he doesn’t really want to talk about it? This would provide an opportunity for those that were left from the Revenge crew to gain a kind of respect and the briefest of peaks beneath the demanding middle manager demeanor Izzy has. HOWEVER, this seemingly conflicts with two of the truths Izzy upholds for himself: Loyalty to his captain above all else, and, pirates all just in the process of screwing eachother over) ------------ Back with not the Revenge... Bellamy, Stede, and the rest of the marooned crew eventually catch up to the  Revenge with barely enough time before the pirate hunters arrive. If Stede hadn’t but it together by now just who Bellamy was looking for, it would be outright said who specifically is being sought after. (Stede probably wouldn’t put it together that the man he calls Iggy has the name Israel or may be referred to by the nickname Baz) Stede could say it’s him and he’s returned, but Ed wouldn’t believe him. By now, Stede looks quite different a man. No matter what Stede says, It takes a proper pirate boarding and takeover to get Ed to listen. Maybe Stede getting stabbed by Ed (just like he was taught) to get Ed to listen. The revenge crew on both sides wouldn’t want to fight their friends/companions. The jig is seemingly up on romcom logic where everyone is going to be okay. Maybe Ed boils over and Stede sees the Blackbeard the books he has tell of? Does Ed kill someone in his kraken rage or just think he killed someone in order for him to snap out of it enough to allow that emotional vulnerability to show again? (It would have to be him directly doing it, not throwing someone into the sea, or fire, or anything like that. As with when Jack was talking about Ed burning people alive in ep 8, Ed considered it the fire doing the killing, not himself.) There is of course a dramatic and emotional reunion of all the couples. Them all dealing with what happened in their own ways. Izzy of course is beyond words. Not knowing how to emotionally deal with 1) Sam being alive. Sam being here. 2) Stede Bonnet is back. 3)Pirate hunters (Hornigold?) on the horizon coming right for them. That third point would cut everyone’s emotional reunions short, but also be the only one of the three that Izzy has any inkling of how to deal with after years of shoving his own emotions down and never dealing with them. The fight to even get on the Revenge having caused enough fatigue that a fuckery has to be used to get away. Stede gets to showcase what he’s learned as a practical, broke, pirate (and that probably not enough if he creates the fuckery without assistance from others). There’s a grand kind of confrontation between Hornigold and the two captains who were once under his command. Stede gains a deeper understanding of the man that in many ways shaped Ed (and Izzy and Sam and Jack and maybe other figures that could have been encountered while looking for the Revenge such as Anne Bonny and Mary Reed). And then finally, the crew can start to unpack and sort out the situation. It’s a long process. The world, under normal logic, wouldn’t wait for them to sort such things out. Maybe romcom time makes a comeback and they can sort through at least a good chunk of it. Ed, for his part, does a lot of growth or at least tries to. In the end, Izzy ends up leaving with Sam for retirement. Ed tells him to go, be happy. Releases him from service (much to Izzy’s conflicted feelings on it). Izzy insists that no that’s a big mistake. Ed insists that’s what would make Ed happy (even if that too is a lie in some capacity?): to see Izzy finally have that same happiness with Sam that Ed’s now found with Stede. -------------- As for what happened between Izzy and Sam all those years ago... Years ago, Sam was sweet on Izzy when they were both serving under Hornigold. It was a whirlwind romance. Sam promised Izzy fine things and retirement together- something so rare for those in their line of work. It seemed like the stuff of fairytales, but something made Izzy give Sam a chance to make it a reality. I haven’t decided what the reason they weren’t sailing together. Izzy and Sam would have been on different ships under Hornigold’s command. Sam with his own ship and Izzy under Ed’s command. Maybe Izzy’s sense of loyalty to his captain was there (as instilled by Hornigold in all his men), but at the time, he wasn’t giving both of his hands to his job. One for the ship and one for his own interests. Maybe Ed was jealous and didn’t want to “share” Izzy with a someone else and he pressed the loyalty to the captain aspect? Maybe there was some other fuckery a la Ed afoot? Maybe Izzy, being torn between duty and love, said he’d go with Sam once Sam got the money needed for that retirement? That seems to conflict with the intensity of which Izzy holds loyalty though. Hmm.... In any case, after splitting off from Hornigold and some time passing, Sam ended up reported dead along with almost all of his crew in the sinking of the Whydah. (The timeline with Hornigold’s involvement and if he’s still alive even seems to be pretty loose at this point as far as OFMD canon goes in comparison to history. Therefore the timeline between Bellamy being elected captain of what once was Hornigold’s fleet, his independent ventures, and the sinking of the Whydah can be played with fast and loose.) Ever since then, Sam’s been working under another name to regain those funds, find Izzy, and give his love the retirement he promised. News of what happened to the Whydah and Sam eventually made its way to Ed and Izzy. Izzy never really processed the grief. Just bottled it up and dedicated his whole self to his captain. Both hands to the ship. (“The only retirement we get is... death”)

[signaturedish]

Hello, I've read perfectly alien completely over 10 times since 2017 and I don't think I'll ever get sick of it. (I like to listen to it in audio book mode through the FF app) I just want to say that I'm very grateful that you share your stories for free. I honestly am willing to pay for this because the story telling and emotions you convey through words always hit me. Thank you for making and sharing your work. If PA has no fans, then that means I am no longer on earth.

Hello biggerbagofsin!

That is one of the most incredibly kind things anyone has ever said to me and I just wanted to really thank you. I kind of abruptly abandoned this blog for a while and was really nervous about coming back for anything, but you and others in my asks definitely deserve responses. You’ve all been so amazing and I’m so glad I wrote even things I didn’t finish because of the people I got to meet in the process.

I’m going to go through my backlog right now so I just wanted to respond and say that you taking the time to read things I wrote years ago means so much more than money and I really do appreciate you for sticking through all my nonsense!!

I also wanted to officially declare Perfectly Alien abandoned, I won’t delete it and I noticed you left a really good idea for compiling some of the PA adjacent stuff here on ao3 which I’m going to check out- that’s a great idea. But the main story is over- it’s not something I’m excited about anymore, although it’s one of my favorite works and I have really fond memories thanks to all of you, it’s not something I look forward to.

And besides that, on a stickier note. HP used to be my crossover vehicle since the world is simple and the characters are easy to change, I have a ton of fics I adore from the HP fandom and every now and then I read one, but the author has thoroughly trashed my enthusiasm for engaging with that world any further. Death of the author is a messy subject when that author is alive and using their profits to actively harm others, and this discourse has certainly been discussed in better ways than I ever could multiple times over. But for me, I understand reasons people have for engaging anyways, this isn’t a place for judgement- I wrote PA during the Bayverse lmao- but it’s not fun anymore.

Anyway this response has gone on long enough and if anyone has bothered to read all of it, thank you so much. I’m going to go through all my asks, and then do some overhauls for this blog. I’m moving away from TF and HP and I fully understand and encourage jumping ship if that’s what you came here for, I’m going to be moving forward with more current interests now.

[teecupangel]

What if after the Solar Flare Desmond becomes a literal shadow, as in he can only move around at night or by following someone else's shadow and since he's kinda dead he helps out the assassin's by pointing where to go or give information by spelling out words or cause a distraction, and one day while doing a mission he sees another shadow move and thinks nothing of it until he sees it closeup and turns out that shadow is Clay

Could be AltDes or other ships and could be the past or the present

I had this vague plot of the whole ‘monster under the bed’ trope where Desmond checks under his bed when he was a child and sees a pair of golden eyes peering back at him. Instead of being afraid, he finds comfort in not being alone in his room. It always stays under his bed until he decided to leave the Farm and then it beckons him to come closer, until his shadow is connected to the shadow under the bed. And that’s how the monster transfers into his shadow so they could continue to be together.

Of course, the shadow monster is meant to be Altaïr XD

Why don’t we mix this with your idea?

Let’s set it up as modern-day. To be more exact, a further-into-the-future kind of setup, maybe even a dubious timeline like Watch_Dog Legion. Desmond wakes up and he’s nothing but a shadow, confined into the shadow of a bed in…

Oh.

It was his childhood home on the Farm.

It was definitely dirty and there were a lot of splinters, the drawers turned over and the door lying on the ground in front of the doorframe.

Desmond knew that this was the state that the Farm had been left in when Abstergo attacked it and Desmond had no idea how much time has passed since he ‘woke up’.

And there were nowhere else to go.

There were too many holes where light comes in, creating shadows, yes, but also ensuring that no shadow would pass by the doorway.

So Desmond waited.

Sometimes, the shadow of the upturned drawer would touch the edges of the bed’s shadow and he would be able to slip into that shadow.

For a change of pace.

But mainly, he stayed in the shadows underneath the bed.

There was something comforting about it.

He tried to count the days.

The months…

The years…

He lost count at 10 years.

Or was it 12?

15?

He didn’t know anymore.

Then…

He heard rumbling coming closer and closer.

Engine.

Vehicles?

People!

Before long, he heard engines stop nearby and the sounds of doors opening and closing.

He could feel the shadow he was occupying vibrating slightly as if to show his excitement.

He waited and the voices got louder as they got nearer.

“The mentor wants us to clean this place.”

Mentor?

Dad???

“What is this place?”

“Used to be some kind of abandoned secret settlement, I think? Templars hit it hard decades ago.”

Decades?

More than 10 years?

How many years has he been here?!

“The mentor thinks we can build another settlement here.”

“Wouldn’t the Templars try to attack this place again?”

“You think they would take the time to do something useless? It'll be fine. The mentor wants this place fortified.”

“Like an outpost?”

“No… this is it.”

“Really?”

“Yup. Our final home.”

Desmond watched as people he didn’t know begin to clean up and build from the ashes of the Farm. He flittered from shadow to shadow to look around, always hidden. Sometimes, he would slip into one of the shadows of the people (no, the Assassins) but staying with them made Desmond feel nauseous… like he was in a boat that was rocking too much.

So he only slipped into the Assassins’ shadows as easy transportation, slipping out as soon as he could.

It took a while but it was certainly faster than Desmond anticipated. They used machines and devices Desmond have never seen before. They made the construction all the more easier.

And then they held tablet-like devices that was slimmer than anything Desmond had ever seen, used them to communicate and show schematics.

They built a wall that hid not only the Farm but its surrounding forest. Built them so high only a giant would be able to step over it. And from the ashes of the Farm, they built foundations upon foundations until the buildings themselves were higher than the walls themselves.

They built walls to cover everything, creating a dome, then pulled them back down, most probably those walls would only be activated for the most dangerous of times.

It reminded Desmond more of a castle made of steel and machinery.

And, on the day after they finished constructing the tower at the very top, the one they call Eagles’ Tower, a small plane landed on the landing pad this walled fort had. Desmond watched from the shadows as an old man stepped out of the plane and the leader of the construction team greeted him by placing his left hand over his chest as he said, “Mentor.”

Had Desmond had eyes, they would have widen because, no matter how old he had become…

He still recognized that face.

Shaun…

It was Shaun.

He’s so… old.

.

All he could do was watch as Shaun proclaimed the fort as Eagles’ Nest and then ordered that anyone who calls it ‘Alamut 2.0’ be cuffed on the back of the head. The Assassins laughed and Desmond was left wondering what the state of the Brotherhood was that they would be blatant enough to do this, to create such a tall tower that would be very hard to miss.

And that’s when Shaun started his speech.

“As you all know… another catastrophe will hit Earth in approximately 5 years, 3 months, and 23 days. Many of our brothers and sisters have already joined the Ark Ships that have left our planets and our latest exploratory ship Altaïr V will be launching 3 years from now to plot a course and set up communications with the Assassins who joined civilian Ark Ships. Battleship Aquila II will launch the following year using the information and route from Altaïr V. And… 4 years and 3 months from now, we will launch our final Ark Ship, the Auditore, with the rest of our brothers and sisters.”

“Eagles’ Nest will be our final and last stronghold here on Earth. We cannot guarantee that it will withstand the catastrophe but… all of our remaining resources will be put into fortifying this stronghold to the very end.” Shaun continued and his voice cracked, “All of you volunteered to stay here on Earth. Stubborn muppets, all of you.”

The Assassins chuckled at that.

“The Templars already plan to leave with Abstergo’s latest Ark Ships. Our eternal war with them will continue on in space, I’m sure.” Shaun sighed before stating, “But that’s not important, not to us.”

“We focus on our future. In space… and here on Earth.”

Desmond slipped into Shaun’s shadow after his grand speech and ignored the nausea he felt. When it became clear that Shaun was just standing next to the large windows of one of the bigger offices in the upper levels, he slipped into the shadows of a nearby plant, hearing Shaun mumble to himself, “You’d probably hate this, Desmond. Making Alamut in your childhood home.”

“It was the best we could do.” Shaun sighed before raising his head to stare at the sky, “Just because the future is up there doesn’t mean we could just leave behind those who wished to remain here. This is their home.”

“This…” Shaun closed his eyes as he sighed, “This is where my wife is. Where you are. Where everyone I cared for are. And this is where I will stay too.”

“Because I’m a stubborn muppet too.”

.

He tried to catch Shaun’s attention. Tried to shake the shadow he was occupying, tried to even stay in Shaun’s shadow for as long as he could, trying to control Shaun’s shadow to wave, until he got too sick. The best he could do was twitch the pinky of Shaun’s shadow. And that was only if the pinky of his shadow was visible in the first place.

Years passed and Eagles’ Nest grew more and more fortified. Shields were created, made of steel, made of electricity… particle something that went above Desmond’s head. All he knew was that something in the top of the tower was needed to activate it.

Desmond watched from the shadows as the Assassins cheered as Altaïr V launched from another part of the world, its launch and ascent showing in all the monitors. Desmond listened as the crew of Altaïr V talked to Eagles’ Nest until they could no longer keep communications up.

He still remembered their last transmission.

“Eagles’ Nest, this is Altaïr V. We are nearing warp jump zone.”

“Copy that, Altaïr V. All systems are showing green. You are free to warp.”

“Roger that, Eagles’ Nest. This will be our last transmission. Eagles’ Nest… safety and peace.”

“Upon you as well, Altaïr V.”

He watched as Aquila II, a ship larger than Altaïr V, launched as well. Heard the same transmission from them.

Then it was the Ark Ship Auditore’s turn. Larger than even Aquila II, might even be three times larger than Monteriggioni itself.

That day…

He saw tears fall from Shaun’s eyes as the last transmission from the mentor on board of Auditore said his final goodbye.

“Goodbye, grandpa. Thank you… for everything.”

“You take care of everyone, okay?” Shaun said with a smile on his face even as tears fell from his eyes, “Keep everyone safe and remember our Creed. I know you’ll all be alright… Desmond.”

.

A few months after the Ark Ship Auditore left Earth, Desmond watched as two Assassins came into Shaun’s office, telling them that one of them was pregnant. Desmond could only watch as the woman cried, torn between wishing to keep the child and have a little bit of happiness, a little of hope, but also knowing she would be giving birth to an innocent and giving it a life that may be too harsh and unforgiving. Shaun did what he could in his position as the mentor, and told her what she needed to hear.

The truth.

What she would be risking...

The uncertainty of their lives...

And...

Their future was unknown from the very beginning. But there was always hope. As long as they were together, as long as the Brotherhood remained strong...

They could build a better future from the ashes of the catastrophe.

.

The catastrophe.

Another fucking solar flare but much, much stronger this time.

As if to punish humanity for being able to survive all the previous catastrophes.

Desmond understood why humans had left Earth and didn’t even bother to try to stay in the solar system.

The sun’s flares hit the entire solar system, scorching every planet. Desmond watched as the Assassins in Eagles’ Nest activated the shields.

They overheated the remnants of the Grand Temple.

Remotely activated all known Isu temples.

Until Desmond heard them announce every temple, including the Grand Temple, had exploded.

All to create a shield that would take the brunt of the solar flare and give Earth a fighting chance to survive.

The flares still hit Earth.

The electric shield was deactivated because of the flare.

The particle shield absorbed the flares until it disintegrated together with what it had absorbed.

And the steel shield…

Rattles.

Warms.

Then it was all over.

The steel shield withstood in the end.

The electric shield came back on, protecting them from the outside world as they were unsure of how the flares would have affected the oxygen.

And the Assassins remained vigilant.

Until one of them finally announced, “All sectors… are green.”

And they cheered.

They might not know what the world was like outside of Eagles’ Nest.

But here…

They were safe.

They were alive.

Humanity, once more, survived.

.

The world outside was forever changed.

Desmond didn’t know how but the air was deadly to humans and ever other living orgasm that needed oxygen to survive. The forest and manmade lake that was part of Eagles’ Nest may have the only remaining animals on Earth, Desmond wasn’t sure.

But the Assassins in Eagles’ Nest survived. They fortified the shields again and again, made sure to repair the steel shields, added backup generators for the backup generators of the electric shield, upgraded the particle shield…

They begin to check the outside world once they were sure Eagles’ Nest was going to be as safe as it could be.

The first baby to be born in Eagles’ Nest was born a few months after the Solar Flare.

They had asked Shaun to name the child.

And Shaun named him Altaïr because he was a sentimental fool he thought it would be appropriate that this little bundle of hope would be named after the Assassin who led the Brotherhood to evolve.

To name him after a flying eagle, soaring into the sky...

Free.

.

Desmond stayed with Shaun even if he could not see him.

Found peace in the short moments when Shaun would talk to himself, talk to the memories of Rebecca, of him… of the people he lost and the people he said goodbye to.

Fourteen years after the Solar Flare…

Desmond watched the funeral, hidden in the shadows.

Alone.

Until he stood in front of Desmond.

Altaïr…

The little hope.

Not so little now, Desmond supposed. He was already a teenager and no longer the only fledgling of Eagles’ Nest.

“It’s okay.”

Desmond froze when he saw Altaïr touch his own shadow.

No.

He was touching Desmond.

“You’re not alone,” Altaïr whispered and Desmond didn’t even realize that he had slipped into Altaïr’s shadow.

He… didn’t feel any nausea at all.

“I’ll stay by your side.” Altaïr whispered, “For as long as you’d like.”

Unorganized Notes:

Altaïr grew up seeing the shadow that hides in the shadows of his home. He had always been fascinated by it and he learned to understand it by watching from afar. It vibrates when it gets excited. The shadows looked like they were slumping when it was sad. And it would wobble when it was getting annoyed.

Desmond didn’t realize that Altaïr could see him because he had spent so many years being ignored. He realized that he has better control of Altaïr’s shadow than any other shadows he had slipped into.

Desmond and Altaïr have specific gestures for ‘yes’ and ‘no’ as well as common phrases which include ‘that’s stupid’, ‘don’t do it’, ‘I’m serious, Altaïr, don’t fucking do it’, ‘told you so’, and ‘do it’ and ‘I dare you to do it’. There’s also the ‘I know I should be stopping you but I won’t because I’m also an idiot who thinks you should do it.’ gesture that Desmond would do more often than he wished to admit.

This is more of a ‘friends to lovers’ trope and Desmond’s gesture for ‘I love you’ is only a slight hand gesture different from ‘you’re stupid’. Altaïr likes to reply, “I’m stupid for you too.” whenever Desmond actually gestures “You’re stupid” to tease him.

Altaïr V actually returns to Earth two decades and a half (or maybe three decades?) later with a new crew. It has always been planned for Altaïr V to return and try to see what has happened to Earth (if Eagles’ Nest were successful in saving Earth in anyway) and to set up a preliminary supply route between Earth and the planet Ark Ship Auditore had colonized.

The ship’s captain is Ezio, a Master Assassin…

… who has a very familiar shadow…

That Desmond recognized.

[flydotnet]

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where I give myself stupidly niche requests according to this marvelous card… or something. It’s been three years dawg. (Red cross is the completed prompt, character headshots are prompts I’ve already filled).

Besides, if I didn't mess up in the first place, this wouldn't have happened.

This fic is quite a long time in the making. I started working on it last year, before I even had the idea for Rice Vinegar, a previous entry in this bingo card series. I was reading/catching up to the absolute banging series that is Brimstone in my Garden, Roses set on Fire by @inkblackorchid. I was on my yearly YGO kick, this time mostly 5D's-related (it's either 5D's or Arc-V, I've come to notice) and reading Snapping Jaws and Piercing Horns (which you absolutely should read, btw, but I have a sneaking suspicion that, if you're reading this, then you've at least heard of SJPH), when the idea for this fic came to me. I really like the friendship between Aki and Crow that the series sets up during the WRGP arc, because it's got my two favourite 5D's characters involved and also it's got canonical whump material linked to it and I'm a sucker for that stuff. Everything was here for success; I was unemployed at the time so I had a bunch of free time on my hands, the inspiration was crisp and I could fuck around and find out with writing new characters I hadn't before. Issue: I hated what I was actually writing.

Since I was reading InkBlackOrchid's works, I was like "God, I need it to be as good as hers". Problem is, I don't have her writing style at all, all the while I was somehow attempting to pastiche how she writes Aki's POV. The result was a very spiteful narration that doesn't even fit Aki at this point of her character development or even the story I was trying to tell in the first place, and a lot of clumsy descriptions. It was bad, y'all. Now, that was the first draft. I had abandonned it at first, thinking I'd just never do anything with it nor with the idea I had, but I just happened to look at my AO3 subscriptions, remembered the banger 5D's fic series, and finally went on InkBlackOrchid's Tumblr. Reading her Autopsy of Crow series of posts reminded me of my WIP and made me want to finish it so I could throw my two cents in the 5D's fight.

I mention Brimstone in my Garden, Roses set on Fire this much because my love for this series is a genuine explanation for some elements of this fic. I like its version of canon so much I wrote established Faithship into this fic as if they were actually dating by this time of the series, forgetting that actually didn't happen in 5D's proper. Sorry not sorry on that front, btw, I've always shipped them and I don't think I'll stop anytime soon. The very first version of this idea wasn't even going to delve into Aki losing her powers after her crash pre-Team Catastrophe (my very own guilty pleasure of a duel, I actually really like it lol), but since I was so inspired by something that did, I figured I had to tackle the question as well. I hope it doesn't fall flat on its face. Be Careful what you Wish for had me by the gametes.

Wow, I had a lot of things to say for something that's kind of just whump I decided to write on a whim like a year ago, huh. I don't even know if my characters sound right (as in, I think my Aki is OOC, she's too open if that makes sense?), it's my first rodeo and it's scary but hey, getting out of your comfort zone is how you improve, ain't it? I don't know if this story is good, I didn't really rewatch 5D's before writing it, just pantsed it out based on memory and what I rewatched earlier this year (I think it was this year? I remember writing a post for my side Tumblr back then mentioning Max Verstappen out of all people and I wasn't into F1 until late 2023. Anyway).

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

Outside the Comfort Zone

Summary: Aki passes by Yusei and Co.'s living quarters to retrieve a copybook. Crow makes it way harder than it has any right to be. (or: a recently-ish powerless Aki finds herself having to care for a very stubborn, unwell Crow, and it goes as well as you'd expect.)

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! 5D's (set during the WRGP arc)

Word Count: 4K words

AO3 version available here.

Event run by @badthingshappenbingo

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

There’s something off with the garage of Poppo’s Time, today.

Oh, of course, most of it is obvious: the air’s still, there’s a distinct lack of mechanical clicking and Yusei isn’t here. It’s a minutia of various little details that, added together, make the entire place tilt forty-five degrees to the left.

It’s, unfortunately, not just these which make her feel this way. Frankly, if it was, Aki would’ve already gone out the door and back home. She’s just here to recover a copybook and it should’ve only taken her mere minutes to do that; yet there she is, ten minutes after stepping on the other side of the door, still without her biology copybook, still in a home that isn’t hers, and unsure of where to take the situation next.

The reason might just be the odd-looking Crow that’s standing in the way between her copybook and her.

Is she friends with said Crow? Yes? Maybe? “Friends” sounds a bit strong for their relationship, she’d say; there are no strangers to each other, and she likes sharing a room with him enough to consider them on friendly terms, but they don’t share enough emotional intimacy for them to be friends. At least, that’s how she sees it – maybe he sees it another way.

(Or maybe they’re already friends, and she’s just too afraid of rejection to admit it to herself – better be safe than sorry, even around the most transparent person she knows).

Whatever their relationship is, what Aki knows without much doubt is that Crow isn’t looking like himself. His stance is slouched and unsteady, his hand is holding the doorway just a little too tight for comfort and his eyes look mussed. It’s like his gaze, while explicitly trying to focus on her, is instead looking at something right behind her – as if seeing through her, which is a thought Aki truly has no time to unpack.

“Oh, hi Aki,” he tells her with an indignant wave, head bobbing along with the sway of his hand.

“Goo – good afternoon.”

His smile turns into a puzzled expression, which doesn’t help the impression she’s gotten so far. He looks around, his left eye twitching and his brow furrowed, then looks back at her when it seems like he hasn’t found what he wanted.

“You not hangin’ out with Yusei?”

Aki almost freezes.

“What do you mean?” She asks back, a shiver going down her spine.

Crow’s brow furrows even further, finally pointing her in the direction of the dark rings under his eyes.

“What do you mean, what do you mean? You come here to hang with Yusei, right?”

“He’s… He’s not here, Crow,” her voice staggers against her will. “He’s in Peru with Jack. I just came her to get a copybook I forgot here.”

The reminder, as useless as it should’ve been, seems to have confused him even further.

“Why the fuck would they go to Peru?” Crow asks, anger sipping in his tone. “That’s on the other side of the damn planet!”

He then hacks a lung out, prompting Aki to jump out. It’s harsh, not unlike the coughs she’d get when she was ill as a child and it seemed like the world was melting around her, psychic powers mixing in with the fever – the powers who, like so many people before, have abandoned her.

The silence is too heavy. She can’t let herself falter now. She may be in danger – scratch that, she’s fine, Crow is the one who needs help as far as she’s concerned. They’re friends, or as close as it gets, and she needs to step up now that his foster brothers aren’t here.

“They’re there to follow on a lead Bommer gave them.”

Her heart sinks a little further when all she sees is confusion. In fact, anything she says seems to result in confusion.

“How? That guy’s dead, y’know,” he gulps with a wince. “I know. I watched it happen. And, like, the dead don’t send emails.”

It’s an understandably difficult thing to swallow, she’ll give it to him. To this day, and despite her (former) psychic powers and links to the extrasensory through her Signer’s Mark, she still has little idea how Carly or Misty have managed to rise from the dead. It’s beyond either of their comprehension.

What shouldn’t be for Crow, however, is the whole travel thing. He was there when Yusei and Jack announced they were going. He must’ve been there to fret over them and their budget like Jack likes to complain about. So how come he cannot remember any of this? Why is he so—

“What time is it already?” Crow asks out of the blue.

It takes her aback, but she looks over her phone screen anyway.

“It’s fifteen to six in the evening.”

His face gets splattered in surprise.

“Shit! I’ve got a shift to attend to!”

“What shi—”

His hand lets go of the doorway.

“Sorry to leave this quick, Aki, I’m in a hurry—”

He walks past her, but before he can make it past her, he folds in half into another coughing fit. Fearing the worst, Aki runs to catch him with her arms, the click of her heels almost hiding the harsh sound of his cough. Heat sips through his clothes and through her gloves, ringing the final alarm that finally allows her to deduce what it was that bothered her so much about his appearance.

Despite the audible pain in his breath and the grimace on his face when he moves his arms, Crow still tries rising to his feet on his own. He weakly bats her away with his hands, but he has to lean against the nearest wall to stay upright. It’s an unreal sight, knowing how stubborn and enduring he truly is. Where is the man who was driving with an injured shoulder mere weeks ago?

“Is this shift really that urgent?” She makes no attempt at hiding her ever-growing concern. “You don’t seem like in any state to go to work…”

“What day of the week are we on?” is all he says back to her.

“It’s… Wednesday? Why?”

Crow’s face finally lights up.

“Oh! I’ve got some time ahead of me then.” He chuckles, but it dissolves into a cough, and she can’t keep her grimace to herself. “I thought we were Monday, for some reason?”

“You honestly seem very out of it,” she ends up bluntly stating instead of going along. “I really don’t think you should go work today.” Or tomorrow.

“Can’t afford not to,” he croaks back, but it lacks any sort of sting.

What looks to her like a dizzy spell ends up taking his resolution out, his whole body pitching forward. Once more, almost in rhythm, her body moves on its own as a result, her arms catching him in his fall.

Heat lingers on her hands even after she has finished bringing him to his room.

Unlike most of Team 5Ds, Aki has never had to care for someone else. She has none of Yusei’s instinct for help nor Crow’s experience with dealing with children. Usually, when faced with this sort of situations, she’d entrust the person in need of care to someone with a lot more ease in this domain – as it turns out, most of the time, it’s asking Jack’s childhood friends to handle his problems, much to his protests. As such, she’s never had to play nursemaid before, and nobody has trusted her with such a role until Yusei came along, and for once, she hadn’t wanted that to change (except for Yusei, but this is a situation that’s unrelated to her current predicament).

Whatever she’s used to, unfortunately, is now out of the realm of possibility. The two people she could ask about it on any other occasion where the need could rise up are respectively currently in Peru with terrible reception and too busy refusing to stay in bed for much longer than a minute to give her a precious hand.

And, you know, you don’t usually ask someone who’s sick to take care of themselves, let alone help you in the process.

Very much to her misfortune, this is all without taking into account that Crow is as stubborn as a patient as he is in every other thing. It was to be expected, of course, and Crow is nothing if not stubborn; but it hasn’t made anything easier. If anything, she should’ve seen it coming as soon as he was too beyond himself to know where his housemates were and why.

Still, it doesn’t mean she shouldn’t try her best in this situation. What friend would she be if she left a comrade in need on his own, harmful to himself? (And she craves for empathy, a part of her whispers, the part of her who misses her powers for the bond she enjoyed having with Black Rose).

Despite a losing battle against his own voice and the way his limbs tremble whenever he tries holding himself out of bed, Crow is insisting that, no, he’s fine to go work, and she has no reason to worry, because it’s not his first rodeo… or something along those lines. Admittedly, it’s difficult to understand everything when he’s struggling to push the sentence out of his throat to begin with, let alone articulate his thoughts.

All that ends up doing as a result is annoying her, because this is oh so similar to Yusei but in all the wrong ways, but that’s once more beside the point. She isn’t here to lash out her annoyance at Crow being an idiot, she’s here to make sure he doesn’t die an idiot.

“I’m tellin’ you, I’m fine,” he whines, a hand already back at gripping the edge of the blanket.

“Why are you so insistent on pretending you are?”

(She doubts it’s because of a martyr syndrome like Yusei’s).

“I’m not pretendin’ anythin’. I’m actually fine.”

His voice is feeble, his words tremble out of his mouth.

“Crow, I know you’re not. Please stop making this harder than it has to be.”

He deflates with a single, wheezing sigh.

“It’s Satellite nature, I guess,” he shrugs with a slight smile. “Both Yusei and Jack got it too, y’know.”

“Speaking of Yusei, right now you’re just like him in that regard.” She lets herself sigh. “Pretending like you’re fine when all signs point to the contrary.”

“Yeah, it’s… Y’know, when you were sick in Satellite, unless you had someone to shelter you and cover your back, ‘t was like signin’ your death certificate.” He coughs again, and it keeps dragging on, worsening, and it pangs at her heart every single time. “Guess that never went away, even now.”

“Even for something like a work shift?”

“Especially for a work shift. Do y’know how tight our finances are? Jack sure don’t seem to, that asshole!” A barking cough interrupts him. “Fuck this shit, I could be literally anywhere else but here. Plus…” He turns to her, and despite the evident weariness on his face and in his eyes, his gaze is sharp. “You should be doin’ better things with your time than watching over me, though.”

Aki rises an eyebrow.

“Such as?”

He shrugs again as a response.

“I dunno. Studyin’. Playin’ cards. Drivin’ a D-Wheel. Tryin’ to… sort through what mess that must’ve been for you, these past few weeks.”

The last bit hits her a lot harder than the previous ones. Having to replace Crow in haste due to a mysterious crash, the conflicting sentiment of her first race as a member of Team 5Ds, her own crash, and now, having to grapple with the sudden and unexplained disappearance of her powers… It’s been a lot of turmoil. Too much, in fact.

Despite all of the pain, it’s somewhat heartwarming to have someone genuinely worry for her, even if it tugs at an uncomfortable heartstring. It means she has the company she so desperately looked for and thought to have found in Divine, now truthful and actually what she needed. Yet, she feels uneasy when she has to show vulnerability in front of them, afraid of what they could take advantage of, of hidden intentions that may be hiding beneath a smile. Letting go of her masks has been terrifying, even if it’s the right thing to do.

For the longest time, she could protect herself with her powers. They were her curse, they were her blessing. They made her unlike the others but allowed her to connect with Black Rose and all of her deck. She misses them even now as she’s within the warmth of Team 5Ds; who don’t judge her for them like the others. Who care for her, like Yusei has ever since meeting her, like Crow is at the moment. Even in pain, they care.

The least she can do is pay them back now that gets the chance to. Now that her powers have left her more vulnerable than ever and created a void she can’t seem to fill on her own.

“I’ll be fine not brooding about it for a while,” is all she tells him in response.

Because it’s the truth. Sometimes, letting the dark clouds consume you is worse. It’ll always be worse, no matter how easy it looks.

“You sure? Because watching over an ill guy gets boring real fast.” He gives her a small smile. “I’d know, I’m usually the one doing the watching.”

She replies with a smile of her own.

“A bit of calm would do the both of us some good, I believe, after all that happened.”

He closes his eyes with a deep sigh.

“Can’t go against that, I guess.”

“Take some rest. I’ll be here by the time you wake up.”

It’s not intended to be a lie to make him feel better about sleeping.

“If you’re lookin’ for it, the medicine is in the cabinet in the bathroom. Pretty sure we got the right stuff at least.”

“I’ll go get it.”

That, and a basin of water, and everything she can remember from hazy memories of childhood illnesses.

Yusei once told her to write down thoughts that were confusing to her, as a way to at least alleviate the black clouds in her mind. He helped her pick a cute-looking notebook for it too, just the size of her uniform pockets, red with an embroidered rose on top of it. It seemed too fitting not to pick it, and Yusei seemed even happier about it than she was. She isn’t sure if what she’s writing in it right now makes sense, but it feels nice to have a place where to dump all of the thoughts that’d usually fester and poison her mind nonetheless.

The loss of her powers continues to leave her at a loss. The best way she can describe the feeling is a bittersweet void it’s left behind: she’s finally normal, like she wished for so long when pretending to be a witch, yet now that she is, it’s like this life wasn’t for her. She misses the bond she had with her Monsters, now that she can’t caress Black Rose Dragon like she could for so long. It makes her feel lonelier in a way that’s wrong to her. It’s like she never knew what she actually wanted out of life, out of the world.

Writing down this loss, this void and this coldness is what’s helping her process some of it. It onsets the way the melancholy would’ve taken ahead of her before she met Yusei and the others. It allows her some lookback and to keep her head out of the water until she can find a solution or get used to a new situation. It feels… soothing, at times, despite it just being scribbles on paper.

A hand strangles her arm, her hands lets go of her pen, her notebook falls to the ground.

“What—”

“Who the hell are you?!”

Shaken, she stares back at her assailant – a frazzled-looking Crow, his eyes glazed over and his pupils dilated. His breathing is erratic, coming out in little wheezes, his teeth gritting.

“I…”

Aki has no idea what to do. A stranger attacking her is no surprise, but a friend? Clearly, something is very wrong with Crow, and she has trouble connecting the dots as to why he’s in such a state. Did she not look after him hard enough? Is she just as neglectful as she was when she was isolated and lost, manipulated, used as a weapon? Is this retribution for that, to be forgotten by those she cherishes?

He lets go of her arm, seemingly against his will – it seems like he doesn’t have enough strength left to actually fight her. She can hardly breathe normally, every gasp of air coming quicker than the last, but she has to compose herself back anyway. She’s the one who’s supposed to fix things here, and now, she doesn’t want to destroy anyone further. Perhaps she can still find redemption.

“What’re you doin’ here?!”

Crow’s voice is unsteady, made all the worse by the cough that’s dried it into being hoarse, and his words slur together, making him very difficult to understand. Aki wishes she knew what do say back, but…

“I’m – I’m looking after you,” she explains back, because calming him down seems like a good idea.

He cocks an eyebrow at her, doubt just barely readable in his half-closed eyes.

“Who’re you?”

“I’m Aki. I’m Yusei’s girl… I’m his friend. I’m your friend.”

His hands grab at her shoulders.

“What’s tellin’ me you are, huh?!”

She looks around the room, trying to ignore how uncomfortable the pressure from his knuckles on his shoulders are, and the heat sipping from them almost right into her skin, before finding a sign of reassurance.

“See this basin of water?” She points it with her finger, he follows it to the bottom of the chair where she sits. “It’s mine. I was trying to keep your fever in check.” That sounded like a good idea, at the time. “I’m admittedly… not great at it, unlike you are, but I’m trying.”

His gaze slightly clears up – and then his eyes flutter close and don’t open up, leaving him in her arms once more.

It’s sort of a wake-up call for Aki, as she puts him back to bed. She should’ve kept a keener eye, but instead got lost in thoughts. She was so sure she had done all of the right things already, yet there she is, only realizing after the fact she wasn’t careful by being attacked by a delirious guy who mistook her for the enemy. Talk about failing at the mission you assigned yourself.

She takes off her gloves and puts a hand on his forehead – his fever has gone back up when she wasn’t looking. It makes sense, miserably so. But this is no time to mop for herself, she must be more like Yusei. She must help out her friend even if she has her own issues. She can’t do anything about her powers, but she can do something so Crow doesn’t have to see things that aren’t there.

So she picks up the washcloth that fell onto his lap and twists it cold again, determined to correct her mistakes.

Aki is staring at Crow when he finally opens his eyes again. They’re clear, able to follow the way her hair sways when she backs up from the bed and back into the chair. Her back is trying to make her pay for the unnatural positions she made it endure, but it’ll have to bear through it for a bit. She’s not letting him down now.

“Hey,” he tells her, stifling a cough.

“Glad to see you awake again,” she confesses. “How are you?”

“Erh… Sore. Sick. You know the deal.” He sits up with the help of the headboard of the bed. “How long was I asleep for?”

“I’d say… an hour or so.”

“And you’re still here?” He chuckles, even if it dissolves yet again into a coughing fit. “Gah, forgot how much that sucked.”

“I… I didn’t want to leave you alone like this.”

“Don’t worry, I went through worse. I’m a big bird, I can deal with it on my own.”

The way she’s staring back at him must’ve looked suspicious, because he looks concerned, now, and it’s like cold water seeping through her socks.

“Hey… Did something happen?”

“No, nothing. It’s… it’s not important.”

“Tch, you’re like Yusei. ‘Not important’ my ass.”

“I don’t think I should tell you about it.”

“You’re not makin’ your case any easier. Shoot ahead anyway.”

Aki looks at her hands on her lap, her knuckles almost white. Her skin looks slightly red, especially without her gloves.

“You weren’t yourself earlier,” she manages to get out, “and you thought I was some sort of enemy.”

She can’t bring herself to look up and see what his reaction to that is. Her head’s weighing heavily on her neck.

“Shit, did… I did something to you, right?”

“You… You tried to attack me, yes,” and she realizes how bad that sounds, “but it’s nothing. You weren’t yourself and it wasn’t a big deal. I’m fine.”

“You don’t sound like you are, though… Shit, I’m so sorry, Aki…”

She rises a careful eye, only to see pain distort Crow’s pallid face.

“It shouldn’t have happened,” she replies. “I should’ve done a better job.”

“Hey. Look at me, Aki.”

Hesitantly, she does – and finds no anger, no disappointment in Crow’s eyes, only compassion.

“You didn’t have to put up with my shit, and I was trying to push you away, but you did it anyway. Attacking you was wrong no matter what. You’ve got a lot to deal with at the moment and none of this is me. Don’t beat yourself up for not handlin’ everythin’ perfectly.” He smiles. “So, thanks, Aki. Don’t worry about good ol’ me, I’ll handle myself from now on.”

Silence follows.

“Though I get why you’d doubt that. We don’t really have a good track record when it comes to that stuff, do we.”

“Not really, no,” she manages to chuckle. “But friends need to trust each other.”

“You catch on quick!” He coughs into his elbow. “I’m sure it’s starting to get late, your parents may be worried. You should head home.”

“Can I… Can I stay here for a little longer? At least until Bruno comes back from whatever errand he may be running. I’d… feel better if I knew someone could watch you over.” Like she’d like it if she was as vulnerable as Crow is right now. “It keeps me occupied too.”

He gives her a sympathetic look from which she wants to recoil, but stops herself from doing.

“Make yourself a home, then. Yusei’s bedroom should be available.”

He winks, right in time for her face to warm up.

“Thank you, Crow.”

“If you need an ear to talk to and I ain’t sleepin’, don’t hesitate, okay? I promise I won’t bite your head off this time.”

“I’ll keep it in mind, thanks.”

She doubts she’ll bother him with this when all she’s tried to make him do today was resting, but she very much appreciates the reminder. It’s always nice to know she’s not only accepted, but also cared for by people whose honest intentions she can be sure of.

It’s making her feel welcome, and just for that, she’s more thankful – her and her missing powers, her and her conflicting feelings it, her and her past that she’s just now feeling comfortable with disclosing anything about. Her and the ghost that may continue pursuing her in the future, but which are leaving her mostly unscathed for now.

Perhaps that’s what home is – and it may just take the shape of a friend’s bedroom, or of a garage.

[doggernaut]

20 Questions Game

Thanks for the tag, @wrathofthestag!

How many works do you have on AO3?

51

2. What's your total AO3 words count?

577,841

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Currently Check, Please!, which is also the only fandom I have fics for on ao3, but I've also written for Parks and Recreation and The Baby-Sitters Club. And I have a Black Widow WIP that I started writing for a friend and haven't found a way back to.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All I Want is You Just Jack Here Comes the Sun  I Only Have Pies for You And you may ask yourself, well, how did I get here?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I always try to respond to comments, but sometimes some slip through the cracks.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Regular readers of my fic know don't do unhappy endings, but I'll say With Extra Chocolate Chips because while it's a soft, fluffy fic, the problem that exists at the beginning hasn't been resolved by the end.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

All of my endings are happy, lol. But I'll say And you may ask yourself, well, how did I get here? because it has three happy endings. (Bitty deserves all the happy endings.)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

If people hate my fic, they have fortunately kept it to themselves.

9. Do you write smut. If so what kind?

I'm so bad at writing smut. Maybe I've written some things that are smut adjacent, but most of it is awkward and/or humorous with a lot of talking and laughter.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I've never written a crossover.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I'm aware.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Years ago, between my kids being born (so...2004?), I cowrote a BSC "Super Special" fic with a bunch of people I met in the BSC thread on the old Fametracker forums. I wrote a couple of the Dawn chapters.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

It's definitely a tie between Jack and Bitty from Check, Please! and Leslie and Ben from Parks and Rec.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Longtime followers might remember my AU where Bitty and Jack meet later in life, when their daughters are college roommates. I started writing it months before I even posted anything for this fandom. And I just haven't been able to figure it out. Part of it is that it's so complex, with two original characters (the daughters) and four different POVs. I haven't quite figured out where I want one daughter's plot to go. I've since written a fic with a similar concept (Bitty and Jack never kiss, reunite years later when they both have teenage daughters), but it's still very different from this WIP. I'd like to say I'll eventually finish it but at this point who knows.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, probably.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Any type of description, particularly how things move or work, which is probably why I have such a hard time writing smut.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

If it works for the fic, sure, though I'm only fluent in English so it's unlikely I would ever do it.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

When I was 7, I read all of Beverly Cleary's Ramona books and was distraught that I couldn't find out what happened next. My dad told me to write my own Ramona book so I did. I think I wrote one chapter before abandoning it because I'd discovered Judy Blume's books.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

This is such a tough call, but right now it might be And you may ask yourself, well, how did I get here? because it has a good blend of fluff and angst, three happy endings, a wild premise that still managed to be (as of its writing) canon compliant, and one of my absolute favorite scenes that I've ever written. Writing it was such a good time, and I miss when my words flowed that easily.

Tagging @cricketnationrise, @sweatersinthesummer, @the-lincyclopedia, @anyawen, @montrealmadison, @ohyoufool, and whoever else wants to share!

[rosellacwrites]

Part 4 of the pirates’ tale (I really need to come up with a title for this) — Stormchild!

Long after Claire’s been fed and bathed and clothed and tucked into a spare hammock slung next to Milo’s, already limp with dreams before Carmen could lift her in, Gil lies awake. His mind is troubled by their little stowaway, and none of the evidence he has supports a conclusion he wants to reach.

He eases himself out of Carmen’s clutches and crosses the few steps to his desk. When his mind turns into a hurricane like this, he’s found that there’s no hope of sleep until he works through the problem on paper. Tonight, he has a feeling it’s not going to help much. Gil likes facts. Gil likes explanations. Gil likes logic, and right now he’s putting two and two together and coming up with six hundred and three, and that’s not logical in the slightest.

Fact: Today, Claire appeared on board their ship.

Gil prides himself on how much he can pack into their ship’s hold, but one thing it absolutely had not contained when they sailed was a little girl; he’d overseen the stowing of the cargo himself. But little girls don’t just appear out of thin air, he argues with himself, not in the middle of the open sea, not dripping wet in the middle of a dry cargo hold. This fact won’t get him any closer to an explanation, so he moves on.

Fact: Claire had previously sailed aboard the Hephaestus, or so she’d said.

Gil’s been a father long enough to know how much stock to put in a child’s story; he illustrates that particular point with a question mark.

Fact: the Hephaestus sank three weeks ago.

Three weeks.

He keeps coming back to that. Claire had said she was aboard the Hephaestus. William had said the Hephaestus sank three weeks ago, hundreds of miles away to the north.

Gil rubs at his temples. It simply doesn’t make sense. Three minutes without air, three days without water, three weeks without food: three points which mark the outer limits of normal human survival for a full-grown adult. A helpless child Claire’s age should have been shark bait by day two.

But she wasn’t, and she’s here, and now… now, Gil has no idea what to do. Perhaps writing down some possible conclusions will help him figure it out.

Possible conclusions, in order of likelihood:

1) William had the news wrong. The shipping news is often late, or garbled, or simply incorrect. Three days would be much more plausible. (Gil declines to consider, for the moment, how the news could have reached William so quickly, had three days been the truth.)

2) Claire had been on some other ship. Perhaps there had been an accident, with her knocked overboard, and she’d hit her head, accounting for the confusion. (But — she’d described the explosion, and the ship’s pieces floating in the water, and Gil hasn’t seen anything like that anywhere in the last three days, and William hadn’t said anything about any other nearby wrecks… Gil reluctantly abandons that possibility.)

3) Claire’s tale is true, and she’s been floating in the open ocean for the last three weeks, only slightly worse for wear, thanks to some kind of divine intervention. (Gil shies away from that thought: he’s already got enough to concern himself with, without bringing the spirit world into it.)

(What does it matter how she got here?Carmen would say, if she were awake. We have room.)

As usual, thinking of Carmen settles his mind. He glances to the other side of their small cabin, watching her sleep untroubled, and he realizes that the answer is quite simple after all.

They have room.

*

“This is Claire,” Gil introduces her the next day. “She’ll be staying with us for a while until we can find her family.” Claire quivers with excitement, ready to take off exploring as soon as she’s let loose, restored by Carmen’s cooking and a good night’s sleep.

The crew members glance at each other, but no one’s brave enough to question much, not with Carmen staring fiercely at them from Gil’s other side. Rosa, at least, appears ready for the challenge, for which Gil is grateful; six years of looking after Milo on board hadn’t done much to prepare him for the tiny, chattering whirlwind that Claire has proven to be, so hopefully Rosa is made of stronger stuff.

“Go with Mamá, mijo,” Gil says to Milo, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You can tell Claire what she’s saying.”

“Why doesn’t she talk?” Claire asks.

“She does, see? With her hands. She can’t hear, so we talk to her in a way she can see.”

“Can you teach me how?”

“Of course. It’s easy!” Milo promises.

That night, at supper, Claire signs more please, and Carmen’s eyes well up.

*

Carmen’s in her glory as a mother of two, and Gil would rather dive from the topmost spar than cast a cloud over her joy, but he knows what he has to do. It wouldn’t be right to keep Claire for their own, not if someone’s looking for her.

“Claire, child, what’s your mother’s name?” Gil asks her one day.

She looks at him quizzically. “Maman.”

Quickly realizing his mistake, he tries again. “No, I mean, what does your father call her?”

“Oh! He calls her ‘sweetheart.’” She beams at Gil, proud of her memory. “And Maman calls him ‘mon coeur,’ and sometimes ‘horrible man,’ but I don’t think she really means it.”

Gil gives up.

“It’ll take time,” he says that night to Carmen and Rosa. “I’ll write to William, to start with. He had the news first, so he might know where they were bound and if they had family or friends waiting for them.” He sees a mulish expression cross Carmen’s face, and he sighs. “You know we have to try, corazón,” he continues gently. “If Milo were lost… well. News of a survivor might be welcome, to someone.”

Go ahead and write, Carmen signs. For all the good it will do. You know what the answer will be.

Gil knows. He doesn’t want to, but he does. But he has to try.

And it’s months before they have anything that passes for an answer, months in which Claire grows taller and stronger and scampers around the ship like she was born to it. Her hair, bright as a new penny once washed, grows golden streaks from the constant sunshine. Gil and Carmen watch her run and play, exchanging glances and half-formed thoughts in their near-telepathic shorthand.

(Have you noticed…

She’s fair as any pearl. But the sun —

You’d think…)

Months in which she and Milo form an inseparable attachment. They huddle together, bright-eyed, in one hammock, listening rapt to Gil’s story while Carmen makes shadow puppets in the lantern’s light. They fall asleep together, piled like kittens, and Carmen tucks them both in with a single blanket.

(Three weeks, Carmen. How… ?

You know.)

Months in which her innate boldness begins to draw Milo out of his shell, and when Gil watches them kicking a rope ball back and forth on deck, shouting at each other to be heard over the waves, he marvels at the way this little scrap of flotsam has given his son a voice of his own.

(Don’t you remember…

How could I forget?)

Gil tries not to think about how she came to them. It irritates his logical mind like a grain of sand in an oyster, and when the thought comes to him he pushes it away again, to be confronted later when he has the strength to grapple with it.

He never does.

*

They make port far to the south, their last planned stop before the winter begins to set in, and Gil returns to the ship with a letter in hand. As usual, William gets straight to the point.

I have done as you asked and kept my ears open for any news, and sent to St. John’s for the manifest, which I have enclosed. There have been no other reports of survivors, and I think we cannot hope for any, so many months later. The ship was bound for Boston, but whether that was the final destination of the family you seek, I cannot say. I have made no secret of your search, but no one has come to me to claim the child, or to provide me with any further clues. In short, there appears to be no one who will object now, should you choose to make her your ward, and I know Carmen will not object to another chick in her nest.

Gil sets the letter down, thoughtfully.

What does William say? Carmen squints at the list, which appears to have been written by someone in quite a hurry.

It was the Hephaestus she was on, after all. I thought there might have been a mistake, but William sent the manifest. Gil points to a line near the bottom. He draws his finger under Mr. Jms. D. Tucker, 27, sailor, and then down to Mrs. Jms. D. Tucker, 25 and Miss Tucker, 4.

Her name isn’t even there, Carmen huffs. Who knows what else is missing.

They’re not coming back for her, are they. It’s not a question, and Carmen shakes her head. So… I suppose she’s ours.

I prayed for so long for another child. And now — one has been given to us.

“Carmen…” He says it aloud, but she knows the shape of his lips as well as her own.

Believe what you want, she signs stubbornly. I know what she is.

*

“We have searched, but no one has found any trace of survivors from that ship, or news of anyone seeking her. So she’ll be staying with us,” Gil announces to the crew. Some of their faces are troubled; he’s had to referee a few disputes over the last months when Claire’s inquisitive nature has gotten her into trouble. (Gil shudders at the thought of what he privately refers to as the Eel Incident.)

“Maldita pelirroja,” Carlos el Calvo mutters with a frown. “Bad luck for us all.”

Carmen’s hands fly, and Gil speaks for her, although the look on her face needs no translation. Reject a gift of the Fae, and the bad luck will be yours for certain, she says. Will you risk it?

Gil flinches; even as the words leave his mouth, he feels the ring of truth in them, and the puzzle he’s assembled in his mind finally flips itself right-side-up. This uncanny flame-haired child, looking up at him with eyes like the water that brought her, can’t be anything but the gift promised in the eye of the storm so long ago. But the price…

She holds her arms up to him, and he concludes that the human imagination can’t be infinite, after all, because there’s no price he can conceive of that he wouldn’t pay to make their family complete.

(Gil, Carmen, and Milo belong to @seanettlles . Dividers by @firefly-graphics )

[monstrology]

masked rider, scrape the velvet from your antlers, [redacted] in miami

masked rider: dincobb fic inspired by a tiktok that feels so wildly random for the depth i've put into it. mystery, kidnapping, search and rescue, strangers to lovers.

scrape the velvet from your antlers: pony/dallas fic also known as deerpony fic. deer shifter!ponyboy x hellhound!dallas inspired by an old au @pelopides and I kicked around years ago that still has the strongest hold on my mind. love to torment them with a new burst of inspiration every few months. mystery, strangers to lovers, magic, and taxidermy trauma. be wary of fawns left on your property

“Mama left me here. She’s gonna come get me when it’s safe again.” It’s endearing, almost sweet, how much conviction he puts into that statement. It’s fawning season, Dallas knows, but it’s been a long time since he’s scented anything other than this kid around here. Longer than normal for a doe to leave her fawn while she forages. It’s clear the kid might not be able to see the reality of what’s going on, that he’s been abandoned or orphaned. “And how long does it take for her to get food, huh? Days?” His mouth twists into a sneer, not exactly kind. “You’ve been here a while.” The boy scowls, forgetting all his previous fear. “Mama’s gonna come back. Maybe she got lost or had to go far to find my dad and brothers. They’ll come for me. I gotta stay here so they can find me when they get back.” Dallas could tell him that this is his territory, that he isn’t gonna let some little deer hang around until he starves to death waiting on a herd that won’t be coming. He could scare him off, sending him running until his heart gives out or Dallas’ appetite kicks in. There’s something that stops him, that makes him reconsider the situation. He can’t rightly put his finger on it, but decides it must be something in the kid’s eyes—solid, steady, courageous in the face of a dangerous predator, stubbornly offended at Dallas’ insinuation, and yet longing for something unknown. Hungry, tired, afraid. He doesn’t know him, doesn’t know anything about deer shifters. But he’s already made up his mind. “Well, kid, you’re mama say you gotta stay outside? You might starve before she gets back at this rate.”

[redacted] in miami: is a ship that's redacted for the reason that it has absolutely no plot, just vibes, something floating around my head that hasn't been figured out yet and i don't want to accidentally influence myself by posting about it yet lmao

[green-tea-crow]

My hot take, and hold onto your kneecaps for this one, but

Twilight is underrated

And let me explain

Obviously, Twilight as a franchise is incredibly successful, one of a few of it's time that achieved that kind of fame. But now lately, as the Twilight reneissance is dying out, the whole thing, but especially side characters (for example) have become kinda forgotten again, and it feels really sad. And I can't help but compare the Twilight fandom to that of Harry Potter.

I think we can all agree that HP is very much not THE thing anymore, except for like the Marauders fandom or stuff like that that barely have any ties to the original text anyways. But for decades, the fandom thrived, with fans in every corner of the story, for every minor character, every ship and every plotline. And as somebody who was in that fandom briefly as a kid/young teen, that was so incredibly wonderful. Also while it's not what it used to be, it's still far from a dead fandom.

In comparison to that, the Twilight fandom feels a little empty. Most of the focus is on the Cullens (not that they don't deserve it), the fandom peaked a few years ago and it never really held up for very long. So now anybody new getting into the fandom, or getting back to it after some time, has sliver of the fandom content HP has. The twilight fandom and its (side) characters feel abandoned. And in that, it feels deeply underrated in comparison.

I hope we can all agree that Twilight, in the way we see it today (capable of critiquing the racism, toxicity...), can play circles around HP. Yet the fandom just never got to that point where it was just so full of life it could never truly die out. And while the story is far from perfect, it's so wonderful in it's genuineness, unlike it's later copies.

This is just something I'm really passionate as well as sad about. It's my opinion, I'm definitely opened to discussion but I wanted to share this.

Tldr; twilight deserves better and I'm the first person ever to say that ever

Also note that I'm only using HP here as the easiest example i could come up with, besides jk terfing i have no personal beef with it

[roseandgold137]

For the fandom meme:

F, G, I, N, O, P, Q, R

👀👀👀👀👀👀

F- (edit bc I accidentally deleted this at some point and didn’t notice) Percy Jackson was probably my longest fandom bc I got into it young and I still engage with it pretty regularly. I’m definitely going to buy the sun and the star and I’ve read all the spin off series as well so I’m pretty confident saying that’s my longest fandom. My fav spin off was Magnus Chase

G- okay so as a kid I had like a lot of casual ships but first OTP was probably Percabeth. I submitted a fanfiction of them for a school assignment when I was nine. I think that’s all we really need to hear to know that they’re the answer.

I- I don’t think so? Like. I’ll come back to this if I remember any but I’m pretty sure we’re good on this one

N- okay fandom: dc

I know that in my circle of dc fan logs there’s a lot of Timber content but the wider community seems to still be mostly hung up on TimKon. And I get it, they’d be really cute and all but Timber

More Teen Titans (fab five) bc I think mostly when people talk about the teen titans they’re usually talking abt the cartoon series

put some respect on the names of female characters! And the queer characters! And the poc characters! So many problems in my life could be solved if people weren’t so fixated on the straight white males of the franchise

O- Song is Bubble Pop Electric by Gwen Stefani, it is very Birdflash or really any speedster ship to me, very nice bouncy beat reminds me of Bart also

P- AU: Canary Tim - I’ll elaborate on this bc it is one of my aus and is kind of the reason that some of my second gen bat ocs exist so it’s kind of relevant.

First Black Canary - Dinah Drake. Married Larry Lance, daughter was Dinah Lance, who became the next Black Canary. Do you see where I’m going with this. Tim Drake. Dinah Drake. There’s a very weak connection there technically so I just made Dinah his aunt. Based off of Dinah Drake and Dinah Lance, we can assume the canary meta gene is hereditary, ergo we’ll just send it Tim’s way as well.

He won’t have his activated until his late teens though bc I want him to have atrocious voice control for a good while so he gets shipped off to train with Black Canary until he won’t accidentally deafen everyone around him.

From there, he’ll graduate Robin to become some kind of Songbird. It was originally going to be Galah (bc pink) but I changed it to Blackbird so his kids could call him B and it would be very emotional for Bruce to watch history repeat itself with the nickname and whatnot. Also this way tim gets to keep his red black and gold colour scheme.

that’s the au part but the part where my oc Jasper couldn’t really exist outside of this au is bc he’s a meta with a voice ability, that’s similar to the Canary meta gene but he’s not related to any of them. He’s Australian so he travels to America to look for Black Canary. He can’t find her, he keeps on missing her by like a handful of minutes or hours, but he does find Tim, and at this point he’s fed up of looking for Dinah and settles for the 19-year-old Blackbird in front of him. Tim, who only really got control of his powers around two weeks ago, chooses not to mention his inexperience and accepts that he’s a dad now

okay wow I didn’t expect to ramble that much but yeah that’s basically the au

Q- hate to say it but I don’t really ship stephCass. I used to, but I hc Cass as older by a bit too much for me to comfortable shipping them in my own au yknow? I wouldn’t say I’ve abandoned them completely though, but the only other ships I really could have put here were ones where I saw art of them, thought it looked sort of cute and then found out they were pro ship, so uh

anyways I think they are cute and would absolutely celebrate if they were made canon but it’s not really for me is all

R- hmmmm. Well I’ll start off with one that I think very few people ship. Steph and Bailey, who has one appearance in the Robin/Spoiler Annual. And I know I’m not the only one bc I’m pretty sure it was @aliteralchicken’s blog where I saw them for the first time, if not whoops

I also have a lot of Janet Drake ships bc I love her and given that most people do not love her I think it’s safe to say that Janet x Selina, Janet x Talia and Janet x Dana aren’t exactly popular ships

I’m trying to think of an m/m ship bc sapphic ships are hard to come by anyways, I’m thinking Bart x Preston but that’s mostly bc I haven’t really been looking for content of them so that would make them seem like a rare pair

oh also Darla Aquista/Laura Fell and Ariana Dzerchenko. Idk I think they’d be cute, and Ariana could really only upgrade from Tim let’s be honest