#most of the marketing is done by word of mouth which spoiler

[pdrrook]

I’m so excited for the new game! It’s taking every ounce of restraint I have not to ask all the questions and spoilers about them. Just two very different questions if you don’t mind. What does the new game mean for Perfumare (like are you planning to alternate releases or just see where the writing takes you?) and (only if you’re taking asks) for all the new ROs, how do they generally show romantic interest?

And I am excited that you are excited! :D Can't wait to share the next chap and hopefully answer some, if not all, of the questions you might have!

"What does the new game mean for Perfumare" Nothing much tbh, I am still mainly working on PFM, and switching between the two when I hit a block.

"and (only if you’re taking asks) for all the new ROs, how do they generally show romantic interest?"

Ofc I take asks! Here we go:

Mirren is very much ‘behind the scenes’ romance, in a way that it’s obvious they are in love to all BUT the person who they are in love with. Doing MC’s work without mentioning it, dealing with MC’s issues and making their life easier? Check. They are also very blunt and to the point when the situation permits, they are not embarrassed by anything either., so they see no point in pretending they like MC less than they do.

Rez, similarly to Mirren, very blunt, as in ‘shout it from the rooftops’ blunt. Can’t keep their mouth closed once (key word being ‘once’ 🥴) they figure out they’re in love, nor do they want to really, will tell it to their friends, the person they meet on the market, MC straight to their face, in whichever order. Before the realization, they unconsciously do things they overhear other couples do like oh their friend told them they got their SO flowers, lo and behold Rez is giving MC flowers (with the roots and all, yanked straight from the ground) for no reason, just Rez being a pal haha (idiot). 

Saltire, contrary to the vibe, I guess, is rather innocent and inexperienced. They would seek MC out just to ask about their opinion about something or say ‘hi’, embarrass themselves horribly (feelings hello sheltered also), then run away as if affronted. Inwardly, they would be conscious of MC 24/7 which would make them seem snappy. Generally, tho, S is very transparent and wears their heart on their sleeve, but it’s easy to mistake their embarrassment for them being moody/annoyed with MC.

Malitiose is very straightforward, very flirty, butters MC up a LOT. But given that they’re a liar it can come off as fake, even when they are actually 100% honest. It also doesn’t help that Mal ‘molds’ themselves to MC’s expectations, or what they notice MC likes/wants to a certain degree, i.e. shy MC wants more boldness? Done. Bold MC wants someone more submissive? Done. It’s a tactic they use for more hmmm business purposes, but with MC it’s subtle (as in not forced, like they dip into and entertain different sides of themselves, not faking them entirely like they would for ppl they’re about to scam) bc they genuinely want MC to like them back (they are still evil tho so hello). They don’t, though, hide behind the mask they usually use around people, so when not being actively ‘seduced’ MC gets to see the most raw side of Mal, short-tempered worrywart and all.

Lotár’s very touchy, it’s kinda obvious if you pay attention to them because they usually don’t get close to people if they can help it (wary of getting a knife in their back, that's all), physically I mean outside of the wink wonk situations. But they are also very covert, so it’s not a fact that many people realize (like when asked, maybe 2-3 ppl would say that Lotár does that, MC can be included depending on the player). They have a habit of watering down their interest, i.e. when they mean ‘I need you,’ they would spin the situation around, so that it’d be like ‘I have the thing you want, you need me,’ which might also be obvious, because Lotár likes having a leverage over everyone and their mothers, but they also love playing hard to get as far as their help goes.

[brokenhardies]

oh but my fave argument is people claiming str4nger th1ngs got a lot of ads when - at least over here - they didnt and 95% of the marketing was word of mouth lmao. netflix's marketing has always been hot garbage even for shows they wanna promote

[absolutepokemontrash]

Kid!MC/Teen!MC Needs someone to go to Parent Teacher Interviews for Them and Guess Who’s Available?

Masterlist

The brothers being bad babysitters/dad figures is something I love very much, I bet you all could already tell that considering the Fic/Headcanon series I have going on. I would just like you all to know that Asmo’s section is based on a true story. Anyhoo~ onto the Headcanons!

Why? Why Him? (Lucifer)

Is MC really dumb, or are they just a kid? No one knows.

Obviously MC asked Lucifer, the only competent one in the house, the most professional, hard-working, controlled-

MC got their things together and gave Lucifer the run down on their teacher(s) before Lucifer got too absorbed in extolling his own virtues in an intense internal monologue.

News flash Lucifer, this isn’t a Shakespeare play, you can’t have a dramatic monologue or soliloquy about how great you think you are

At the actual meeting, if MC is in there, no, MC is not actually in there. Lucifer will speak to the teacher as if MC isn’t there. As someone whose not a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down kind of person, Lucifer expects the teacher to behave the same and not spare MC’s feelings.

Feelings do not deserve to be spared if MC is being a nuisance. No fake-kid/little sibling of his gets to be the class idiot!

If MC’s doing very well academically, he expects to be pointed at projects or tests they’ve done and the grade on it. It really makes him proud to see MC doing well.

Even if they’re not the best academically, if they’re not failing and they’re doing well in other aspects of school, he’s proud.

If MC really struggles in a school environment and just hates it there but they’re still keeping their head above water, they get a head pat of approval.

On the drive home, if MC came with him to the parent teacher interviews and everything went well, he just happens to turn onto the street that has a Baskin Robin’s or something of that caliber.

If they didn’t go, he picks something up on the way back.

No fun treats if MC is being a disruptive little heathen in class, no kid under Lucifer’s care is going to be the class Mammon. Not on his watch.

MC was busily stuffed their face with the treats that were gifted to them. Lucifer had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the kid’s blatant disregard for basic table manners when it came to sweets.

“Is everything the teacher said true?” Lucifer asked, MC looked up at him with a smile.

“Yep!”

“Good, good.” Lucifer held out his hand and patted them on the head. “You’re doing well. Keep it up.”

“Geez,” MC mumbled as they continued to stuff their face. “Can you get anymore affectionate?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, MC. It’s uncouth.” Lucifer said sternly. “Besides, I’ll have you know that many people enjoy my headpats. I’m quite affectionate.”

“Really now? Name one person.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He and MC stared each other down, one pair of eyes much more nervous than the other. Spoiler, MC was still calmly eating their treat as they maintained eye contact.

“…Cerberus.”

“If you’re reaching for Cerberus, you’ve already lost.”

…his pride was under attack. Right in front of his desert…

“You’re grounded.”

“Worth it.”

*Rides by on a Skateboard* School is for NERDS (Mammon)

Pff! Stupid human! He’s not goin’ to some lame parent teacher conference-

Wait! What’s with that face?! Ugh… fine. MC’s gone and forced his hand with those damn puppy dog eyes…

Mammon does not dress up for this event, he dresses like he would every day, maybe throw on some designer stuff to let all the parents and teachers know he’s hot shit.

If MC goes with him, he pulls up in his beloved car and takes up two parking spaces (pure evil.). Every parent present already hates him, but at least the other kids there are impressed with MC’s sweet ride. MC would have gained some street cred if Mammon hadn’t managed to trip up the stairs to the classroom in front of everyone.

He’ll act way to casual with the teacher, turning the parent chair backwards and sitting down so he can lean on the seat.

Mammon gets bored crazy quickly while the teacher lists and explains all the stuff the class is learning, so his eyes begin to wander to any and all displays in the classroom. Projects, annoying posters, class pet, anything is more interesting than this teacher’s explanation.

When MC finally becomes the main topic of the interview, he’s all ears. MC’s doing great in school academically? Ha! Nerd! Maybe giving MC a playful noogie and interrupting the whole interview wasn’t a good idea, but whatever.

If MC’s failing anything, or just isn’t that gifted when it comes to grades, it’s very much a “Aw man me too” from Mammon.

This teacher is speaking with the Great Mammon, the first demon in RAD’s history to fail three semesters in a row. If this teacher thinks bad grades will phase him, they’re dead wrong.

Grades don’t mean anythin’ about smarts anyway! I mean, look at him! He’s a fuckin’ genius but he can’t get through a history test without sobbing even though he LIVED THROUGH MOST OF IT.

MC gets treats no matter what’s up in class. Though, if MC didn’t go with him, he’s likely to forget and just order something for the two of them when he gets back home.

“Goddamn teachers and their rambling!” Mammon whined, grabbing a slice of pizza from the open box on his coffee table. “You owe me, MC! Ya really do!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” MC said, they leaned over and rolled a pizza slice into a pizza-scroll then proceeded to eat it like a veggie roll. “How do you think I feel, listening to them every day? You know how long it takes to get to the actual class material?”

“Five years?”

“Ugh! Five years if I’m lucky! I swear, I know more about my teacher’s grievances with like… five of my classmates than I do about trigonometry, and guess which one’s on the test next week?”

Mammon winced in sympathy, then remembered he was supposed to be whining and went back to it. “School’s shit and a waste of money, ya should drop out as soon as you can and help me run my new business.”

“You mean your pyramid scheme?”

“It’s not a pyramid scheme, MC! It’s legit! It’s a multi-tiered marketing-”

“It’s a pyramid scheme.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SOCIAL INTERACTION (Leviathan)

Everyone else must have been sick or something for MC to have asked Levi. He’d flat out refuse to go otherwise.

So, Levi couldn’t exactly go to the interview in his usual “I haven’t left my room or changed clothes in eight weeks” look. With the help of MC, he was able to find his military uniform at the back of his closet.

Asmo nearly fainted when he saw Levi in the uniform, not because “oooo, a man in uniform~”, it was because the outfit was so crumpled and wrinkled that it made it physically painful to look at. No time to iron and wash, the conference was in an hour!

Levi (and MC if they went with) rolled up to the school in a less than impressive ride, but one look at the uniform and all the other people present went “yep, time to be respectful (tm)”

For the first time in his life Levi was more intimidating than Lucifer! And he wasn’t even trying!

When the teacher starts explaining the course material, Levi spaces off in horror as he realizes he remembers literally nothing from school (AND HE’S STILL IN SCHOOL!) all that’s running through his head is “A squared + B squared = C squared” and “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”.

The actual interview was the least interesting part of the trip, the real stuff happened when Levi passed by some art on display in the hallway and something caught his eye-

Those colours… that hair… that adorable smile..!

IT WAS HER! LEVI’S PRECIOUS RURI-CHAN IN ALL HER GLORY!

Levi immediately started fawning over the art class fanart and by sheer coincidence, one of the kids walking through the hallway happened to notice.

The kid asked MC if their… parent and or guardian liked anime. MC responded with “obviously.” Levi then asked the kid if they drew his adorable Ruri-chan. The kid said no, and that they drew the My Hero Academia fanart a few rows down.

Levi was absolutely floored that there were two anime fans in one class, then his entire world shattered when MC explained there was more anime art inside the art room and other classrooms.

H-hang on… did that mean that… a lot of people here… liked anime..?

Levi needed a while to process. No snacks on the way home…

Levi and MC were sat in the back of their Uber, Levi, the Avatar of Envy himself, was having his entire sense of reality warped. S-so much anime fanart… in a school of all places..! What did this mean for the future of anime?!

“Levi. Stop.” MC sighed. “If this were an anime, the camera angle would be doing that thing where it’s right on the bridge of your nose and dramatic music plays in the background.”

“S-so many kids in your class like a-anime huh..?” Levi stuttered, weakly trying to smile. “Must be nice..?”

“Oh, that’s just my class. The other classes and grades have their fans too.”

“Oh… really?”

“Levi,” MC stopped looking out the window and looked at the otaku that was having a full scale silent mental breakdown. “Anime isn’t even a niche interest anymore. It’s a pretty casual thing to watch now. At least a third of my class watches- Levi?”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH! ANIME! A THIRD OF THE CLASS?! ANIME… HIS PRECIOUS ANIME… WAS BECOMING A NORMIE INTEREST! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

“Levi?” MC waved their hand in front of their spaced out demon’s face. “Leviiiii? Okay he’s dead.”

The Know it All (Satan)

Ah, a smart choice, MC. Satan would be glad to help further their education. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure that the human’s brain is fed all that sweet sweet knowledge.

Satan can’t dress himself normally, MC had to coax him into a suit jacket, but he still only wore one sleeve.

MC was coming along to the interviews whether they wanted to or not, it’s important to hear what they need to improve on from the teacher themselves after all.

The two arrived pretty early, so Satan asked MC for a tour of the school. It was pretty tame until they reached the library. Satan was horrified at the state of some of the books…

Their spines lined with duct tape… pages missing and torn… someone apparently used a taco as a book mark…

The first thing Satan does when it’s time for his interview is demand the teacher take better care of the library, even though they’re not the librarian. MC tries to explain this, but Satan is too distraught to listen to reason.

He enjoyed hearing about the course material, but he made it known if MC thinks the assignments are too easy that they need to be given more challenging work. THEIR BRAIN NEEDS TO BE STIMULATED DAMN IT.

It was up to MC to either agree with Satan and nod to the teacher, or make frantic eye contact with them to try and communicate “NO DON’T PLEASE”.

Similar to (ugh) Lucifer, as long as MC is doing their best, he’s happy for them.

…but if they are in any way in the running for valedictorian he is HELPING THEM WIN.

He decided to stop at a cafe or bookstore to let MC pick out a “congrats on surviving your pitiful school” present after the interviews.

MC gleefully perused the shelves of the bookstore, there were so many books too look at…

“I’ll buy you as many books as you’d like, MC, just,” Satan shuddered slightly. “Promise me you won’t treat them like those poor library books…”

MC put their hand over their heart. “I swear on the duct taped book spines that I will never treat a book like that.”

“Good… good…” Satan breathed a sigh of relief and went back to looking at his book about cats.

“Are you… reading a Warrior Cats book..?” MC asked tentatively.

“Yes, why?”

“Satan, put that back.”

“I Will Seduce the Teacher For the Sake of Your Grades, Don’t Worry.” (Asmodeus)

Oh MC dear! He’d be delighted to go! Just let him get ready~

Asmo may not be the best choice, but he was at least going to be the best dressed person at that conference. (And MC just had to come too so all the other parents could be jealous of how well coordinated their outfits are)

He teased MC a little by saying he was going to flirt with their teacher to make sure they passed the class, but he was just kidding! …but he made sure to ask if their teacher was cute, he needed to know!

While waiting for his turn, Asmo flirts with some of the single parents, if he doesn’t see a wedding ring, they’re fair game.

Once his time slot arrived, MC realized that Asmo is one of those “my child has done and will do nothing wrong ever” types. This may have ended up working in MC’s favour if they were a class nuisance.

If MC is doing very well in sports, clubs, grades, anything, Asmo is fawning over them and gushing to the teacher about how great, smart and adorable they are.

Asmo surprisingly does not exactly flirt with the teacher, he was just teasing MC after all. But um… if MC’s teacher just happens to be cute and young, he may turn up the charm, just a little. Enough to make the teacher giggle and make MC cover their face in embarrassment.

After the interviews Asmo will probably schedule a nice day out for the two of them, shopping, a movie, mani pedis, something fun!

The real weird stuff happens in the months after the interviews… if Asmo did lightly flirt with the teacher, MC gets quite a few questions about their guardian. Questions that ask if Asmo is single in not as many words…

Oh lord, MC’s teacher developed a crush on Asmo.

Nail painting night was supposed to be a fun occasion, but MC was hopping mad and embarrassed. Asmo didn’t seem to notice as he continued to paint the little human’s nails.

“And then I told Phenex to get lost. The nerve of that little monster, right MC?” When MC didn’t reply, Asmo looked up and tilted his head. “MC?”

MC’s angry face would have been much more threatening if they weren’t just so adorable, but it was getting the message across.

“MC..?”

“Asmo.” MC’s glare deepened. “My teacher wants to know if you’re single.”

Asmo blinked a few times, before he hit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Really now~. I knew they’d be madly in love with me-”

“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIIS?!”

Oh My Demon King is That a BAKE SALE?! (Beel)

Of course Beel said yes! He’d gladly go to MC’s parent teacher interview!

He even put on a nice outfit :D he ended up looking a bit like a secret serviceman guarding MC, the tiny president.

Beel stopped for McDonald’s on the way there, all the other kids were so jealous of MC when they stepped out of the car eating fries.

But a little something something caught Beel’s eye when he and MC walked into the school… was that a… bake sale?

MC quickly explained that the bake sale was fundraiser for their class trip that year and the snacks weren’t complimentary. He had to pay.

And pay Beel did. He cleared out the entire table. MC’s grade’s overnight trip was going to be decadent as hell. That was no longer a crowd funded thing, that trip was privately funded by a tall buff ginger secret service member and this tiny in comparison child.

Kids are incredibly blunt, just like Beel, so when a random kindergarten kid wandered over, looked up at Beel, and very knowingly said “you’re very tall”. Beel was like “yeah”. The kid then said “what’s it like being that tall?”

Beel’s response to this kid’s question was to pick them up and hold them for a few seconds before placing them back down. For just a few moments this kid knew what it like to be over 6’4. Of course, more kids swarmed in and asked to be picked up.

Sure it was cute, but Beel now has an army of kids ranging from kindergarteners to third graders.

Finally, the conference actually began. Beel snacked the entire time and dutifully listened to everything the teacher had to say.

After the interviews are over, he checks with MC to make sure everything the teacher said was true and that they weren’t lying. If all was well, the two made their exit.

They stopped at Wendy’s on the way home.

“I’m so full…” MC groaned, Beel held up a massive cookie.

“So I can eat this?”

“No. Gimme that.” MC took a very defeated bite out of it. “My stomach says no but my mouth says yes…”

“I don’t want you to get a stomachache, MC,” Beel said worriedly. “No more snacks.”

“It’s a little late for that. It’s past nine and I’m still eating, there’s no way I’m getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.”

“Oh…” Beel mumbled. “I may have not completely thought this through.”

“*Snore* Huh? Wha? MC’s Grades? Uh… Fuck…” (Belphie)

MC must be failing a class or something because why on earth would they pick Belphie otherwise.

They ask him to go while he’s delirious from just waking up from a nap, he sort of half nods and mumbles some gibberish before going back to sleep.

MC had to basically carry his ass to the school. Belphie drooled all over them in the waiting room, and when it was their time to go into the interview, Belphie had to be manually put into the chair and slapped awake.

He barely listens, he just sits and nods along with whatever the teacher is saying. The teacher could say MC brought an alligator to school and he’d just go “uh huh…” “mmmph… yep…” “really now?” then yawn.

The only thing that could possibly get Belphie to be interested is if MC is studying space. If they are, than boy howdy is Belphie suddenly interested in their education.

Other than that? *snore*

If MC is in fact failing or doing poorly, MC’s teacher asks to see another one of MC’s guardians at a later date. Their plan failed miserably.

MC drags Belphie out of the school and yells at him for not helping them. Belphie, still sleep delirious, tries to press the snooze button. MC does not have a snooze button.

“Belphie!” MC shouted, shaking the Avatar of Sloth awake. The House of Lamentation’s resident bastard was somehow sleeping standing up outside. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

“Eh?” Belphie half-snorted and looked around confused. “What’d I do? Where are we?”

“At my school! You said that you’d go to my parent teacher interviews!”

“…MC I don’t think I’d pass well for you.”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AS MY GUARDIAN!”

“Sheesh,” Belphie murmured while he rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes. “You humans are so noisy.”

MC looked up at their dearest demon friend, and gave him their best glare. “I’m going to take all your fancy temperature changing pillows and switch them with normal pillows you traitorous bastard.”

[itsmoonpeaches]

Raya and the Last Dragon: The Importance of Water in Southeast Asia

Disclaimer: The following is from the perspective of a Filipino SEA. Please feel free to add or edit from other perspectives. There are *spoilers* below.

Though Raya and the Last Dragon has its flaws, what it did well, it did really well. Out of every cultural reference that I spotted in this film, the one that stood out the most was the portrayal of water. 

In the end credits song, Lead the Way, originally sung in English by Jhené Aiko, there is one lyric that stands out as a nod to this culture of water:

There's an energy in the water There is magic deep in our heart There's a legacy that we honor When we bring the light to the dark Whatever brings us together Can nevеr tear us apart We becomе stronger than ever

There are beautiful views of bodies of water in the movie, and scenes that deliberately look over them. But, it’s much more than that.

The geography of SEA is already so rooted with water. The lands that make up the region are either located on a peninsula and cut through with rivers, or made up of hundreds of islands in the middle of the ocean. 

So, let’s talk about water in SEA and in this movie. Below is an in-depth analysis of the cultural significance of water whether it is rain, rivers, oceans, or mythological aspects alluded to in the film.

Nagas and other myths

Let’s start with mythology because this is the basis of much of Raya and the Last Dragon. I want to first point out that this is not an opinion post, so I will not be touching much on my opinions on how the dragons looked like. (TLDR: Disney could’ve done better.) 

So many myths in SEA are connected to water besides the dragons, but let’s focus on those.

I did mention briefly about naga and water dragons in my long analysis post on the final international trailer. However, I will go in a little deeper here.

Naga The dragons in this movie are based on the SEA version of a dragon. More specifically a sea serpent or a water serpent. They don’t breathe fire. In fact, they have nothing to do with fire. Their powers all influence water (and sometimes create earthquakes). Their powers include typical influence over water, creating rain, causing winds, and shape-shifting.  They are incredibly powerful and revered. Sometimes they are even seen as deities like the Bakunawa in the Philippines. In RATLD, these nagas have a long horn at the front most prominent in Thai and Laotian versions of nagas. They are scaly and might have a kind of crown on their head, or gold jewelry around them. In most portions of SEA, nagas don’t have legs. It looks like the dragons here were partially inspired by an East Asian dragon or maybe the Vietnamese dragon. Other depictions can have them with multiple heads. Nagas also appear in South Asian culture. Here’s a quote from my initial long analysis post to add to this:

Naga are so important within SEA cultures that we have multiple places (and a river) named after them all over SEA and particularly a few times in the Philippines. 

What I can tell you is mostly the Philippine version, but a naga is a serpentine creature that lives deep in the ocean, and are often associated with water. Sometimes they are depicted as having the upper half of a woman. 

...

In the southern islands of the Philippines, depictions of naga are seen carved throughout buildings, particularly on roofs. A typical dance movement where you keep your hands curved and your fingers bent toward yourself is called “naga hands” and is supposed to be reminiscent of a naga’s graceful claws.

Bakunawa Just to highlight why nagas are so revered, I’m going further into the myth of Bakunawa. Specifically, the Bakunawa story comes from around the Visayas and Bicol regions of the Philippines which is south of the main island of Luzon. Bakunawa is said to be a giant sea dragon with a mouth as large as a lake. It lives deep in the ocean and has influence over the sea and earthquakes, in the depths of the underworld. There are a few versions of the story including that the Bakunawa is a naga that was enthralled by the beauty of the 7 moons and ate them until there was only 1 left.  In some versions the god Bathala stopped Bakunawa from devouring the last moon. In other versions, the people down below made loud noises with pots and pans to scare Bakunawa from eating it. There are also another version in which the Bakunawa was once a beautiful goddess. It is also known as a man-eater in other tales. There are similar versions of a giant serpent or dragon-like bird causing eclipses (whether lunar or solar) in other parts of the Philippines.

Rain

I can’t tell you how important rain is in SEA. It’s not that it never rains, but that it rains a lot. Much of SEA is rainforests, which is an attribute that contributes so the rich biodiversity. 

In RATLD, rain is depicted as a positive event...because it is. Raya and her friends are shown happy and laughing when Sisu makes rain. Sure, rain can be bad. Too much of it comes with typhoons and floods, but rain means a lot more than the bad things.

But enough rain means that the rivers aren’t dried out. Take the desert region of Kumandra for example. Raya goes there to the end of a dried up river. At the end when the dragons all come back, rain falls and the river is alive again. The people in that region can prosper again.

Rain symbolizes new life Now, this story I’m about to tell you is completely from oral tradition and was passed down to me by a culture bearer from from the island of Mindanao in the Philippines.  This person said that when they were young, they did not have to worry about buying food because it was always available around them. If it rained, that was a good thing because it meant that the next day when the grass was damp, there would be mushrooms sprouting that they could pick. (There is an umbrella dance coming from this region that depicts mushrooms popping up after a storm.) If it was windy from the rain, it meant that there were fruit that would shake out of the trees.   Rain also means food will grow. Staples like rice need a lot of water. Rice paddies need to be to be constantly flooded so that they can grow, and water means food whether it is in the form of rain, rivers, or the ocean. It means fresh drinking water and abundance.

Nagas and rain Remember how above I said that nagas can influence rainfall? Well, Sisu does just that in this movie. She says that one of her siblings originally had this power, and Sisu gained it because she came into contact with a piece of the dragon gem.  This adds to the positivity of rain because nagas are already so revered because of the magic they can do in the movie (and in mythology), that the people that witness it are in absolute awe. 

Rivers

Besides the ocean, rivers are the heart of SEA. From the Mekong River that runs through 5 SEA countries including Vietnam, Myanmar, Laos, Thailand, and Cambodia, to the UNESCO site of the underground river in Palawan, Philippines...rivers are just part of the lay of the land. 

They are shown to be all of those things in RATLD. There are streams and tributaries that flow into mountains and underground where the dragon gem was originally hidden in Heart. Additionally, there is the incredibly long river that separates the land in the shape of a dragon that flows through all the regions of Kumandra, reminiscent of the Mekong.  Rivers are so important that there is even a region in the Philippines called Pampanga that is named after the Tagalog translation of the word “river” seen in the first part of the region’s name, “pampang.” They are the people of the river. 

There are whole fishing villages throughout SEA that are built on a river. In fact, there’s one in RATLD. 

Rivers are a source of many things, including food and drinking water. When there is a flood during wet season, the land will be full of silt, making the land prime for planting.

I don’t have to tell you how important a water dragon is at this point, but the fact that the movie chose to have that be the shape of the river is significant because nagas live in rivers too. 

Transportation This should be a no-brainer, but in case you forgot, rivers mean boats. Boats mean people will want to get around and trade. And, boat culture is so important in SEA.  There are all kinds of boats in the region from the huge deep-water kind, to the fishing boats, to thin canoe-like ones, to coracles. You can see them especially showcased in the river town in Tail in Kumandra. 

Oceans

Honestly, there wasn’t much about the sea in RATLD, but it’s important to note because nagas in and of themselves have origins in the ocean as well. 

The sea is another very important core of SEA culture. Its waters are more unforgiving than rivers, and more unpredictable. Magical, mythological sea creatures tend to be more violent here, and will only be kind to those who are kind first.

In island nations like the Philippines and Indonesia, the people rely on the ocean for so many things. Especially if they live right on the water, some can be fantastic swimmers and can dive and fish for their own food. The ocean is respected, and it is feared.

Though there is no explicit ocean in RATLD, there are elements from port cities and towns that exist including the deep-water boats. In the movie and in SEA, seafood is important.

There’s a scene where Raya and Sisu meet Boun and he offers them shrimp congee. Shrimp is a popular food in SEA, and can be seen in many dishes besides congee or any rice-based dishes. 

In the river town, we also see elements of passing fish baskets through the water after a day of fishing, and eating and buying fresh foods to cook later in a water-side market.

Irrigation

It’s pretty obvious that water is needed for irrigation, but just think about how earlier I pointed out how deeply water is utilized. Much of the food in SEA needs water to survive, a lot more than in landlocked countries. 

Rice terraces Remember rice? It needs a heck ton of irrigation in order to survive. This means a lot of rain and a lot of soil cultivating. If you take a look at the rice terraces that surround Fang, and even the picture of more overgrown terraces next to the river in the transportation section of this analysis, you can see that rice paddies are supposed to be flooded. Rice terraces are all over Asia, but there are so many of them in SEA that are ancient and still work including the Tagalalang rice terraces in Bali, Indonesia and the Banaue rice terraces in Banaue, Philippines. Honestly I could talk about the importance of rice and water for ages. Sure, rice is a staple in all of Asia, not just in SEA, but in East Asia as well. However, I would argue that it is even more of a staple in SEA.  Sure, there are noodle dishes, and bread, but rice is so ridiculously important that in the Philippines, it’s not considered a real meal if there is no rice. There is even a word for food eaten with rice, “ulam.” In fact, in the entire movie, I don’t think I can recall one eating scene in which the characters are not also eating rice with their food. Unless of course, it’s just a snack like fruit. (Maybe there was a stew only scene?) There is a scene towards the beginning of the movie when Raya asks Namaari, “Stew or rice?” when asking which she would prefer. Namaari never answers the question, but she says that it is her first time eating rice in a while. Though it’s never explicitly said, it could be implied that it is because they did not have as much rainwater for irrigation at the time. 

Protection

I’ve talked about rivers and the ocean, but I haven’t talked about water as a barrier. Though water as a barrier isn’t an infallible one, it is still important to note.

Protecting from intruders SEA is separated by water. It is also a region that had wars within their own countries in pre-colonial times, and of course, when they were colonized. (Though shout out to Thailand for being lucky in that regard. It remains the only country in SEA not colonized by Europeans.)  There were wars between chiefs in the Philippines, and often they had to traverse the ocean or cross bodies of waters to get to the lands they needed to fight on. It ended up becoming a process with a lot of planning. Though SEAs are people of the water, they obviously can’t breathe under it.  Nagas here are also important because in RATLD they are seen as powerful, respected protectors. And of course, they are borne of the water.

If you take a look at the picture above, it shows that part of the movie when the water starts disappearing because Sisu disappears. As the last water dragon, her connection to the water was keeping the land alive. With Sisu gone, so was the water, and therefore the protection for the people. The Druun spirit came in with no more hindrances because there was no water to stop them. 

The power of the water and the magical energy of the water dragon really showcased itself here.

Interconnectedness

SEA used to be an interconnected region that traded with each other. Of course, not that SEA countries don’t trade now, but it isn’t at the same level as before. The borders now were created after centuries of colonialization. 

Water is what connected all the countries of SEA. 

Just take a look at the map of SEA above (in red). There is no other region of the world that’s quite like this, except maybe Oceania and around the Mediterranean. It’s relatively easy for these countries and people to trade and share cultures and traditions with one another. Manila, Philippines and the Tondo region was once one of the most frequented ports in SEA. Trade was done with China, India, Africa, and the Middle East. The same kind of trade occurred in other SEA countries as well.

Because of the history of trade over water that is rich in its pre-colonial past, SEA shares many similar cultural aspects and even similar words in languages. Though of course, though there are similarities, there are a lot of differences as well. SEA is not a monolith.

If you want to think of it this way...that Korea, China, and Japan share so many things with each other including having a history of being able to share Chinese characters (the different names including hanzi, kanji, hanja), but that each country and culture is very different...that is what SEA is too. 

This aspect of interconnectedness, yet with differences is emulated in RATLD. In the lore for Kumandra, the movie notes that all the regions were once one, but were separated after something broke them (that something being the malice of the Druun spirit). Yet, if they worked together they could become Kumandra once again. 

It is shown in RATLD that the best way to make the spicy stew that is pops up multiple times, is to add all the spices and ingredients from all the regions of the land that was once Kumandra. This showcases that just like SEA, Kumandra was once a land of incredible interconnected communication and trade.

Kumandra wasn’t colonized, but it was separated by 500 years of land. The people didn’t use the water the same way. SEA was colonized (and actually, 500 years to the date on March 15, 1521 to March 15, 2021—the Philippines was “discovered” by the Spaniards so I wonder if that was a conscious choice on Disney’s part), and broken apart. I’m sure that without European colonialization, SEA could’ve been one huge interconnected country. Or bigger countries with different dialects. 

Spirituality 

Lastly, let’s talk about the spirituality of water. In RATLD, there are no other spirits besides the Druun which is made of discord and malice created from human malcontent. Yet, the Druun cannot go near water. I don’t know the exact reason for why it can’t or if it was inspired by a piece of mythology from an SEA country, but that is significant. (If you do know the reasoning behind this, please feel free to add onto this.)

SEA is full to the brim with myths and legends of nature spirits. From spirits that live in trees, to spirits that live in the water. And yes, they are spirits. They can be spirits of ancestors too.  The way Chief Benja pours a bowl of water on Raya’s head as beads of it float into the air...it is a great touch to highlight the energy that water just inherently has in any SEA tradition.

Though it’s probably a little reaching to point this out, the fact that Sisu was said to be washed to the end of a river is so interesting when Raya is looking for her. This is because in some SEA myths the river takes your spirit to the underworld. Raya finds Sisu at the end of a river and she is made of stone, her spirit stolen until her power is unleashed again with the dragon gem. 

Floating flowers Perhaps the most beautiful aspect of the movie and as it relates to water is the fact that the animators made a conscious choice to show so much imagery of characters making flowers float upon water. And of course, to use floating flowers as decoration. Characters like Raya, Boun, and Sisu float flowers that look like orchids or jasmine flowers to remember their lost loved ones. The choice of flowers is significant too. These are flowers that are native to SEA. There are flowers everywhere and that is so pretty and so accurate. To have them used as decoration floating in pools is also so nice too, because it is something that is done in households and not just in a palace. You can float a gardenia flower in a bowl of water to make the scent spread in a room, and it makes the flower last longer.

End 

I’m sure there is a lot more I missed or things I got wrong. If you see anything you want to add or fix, please feel free to write it in any future reblogs!

[skipplings]

You and Only You

Zhongli x Reader, Words: 2336

⋆SPOILER WARNING⋆ for Zhongli’s character story as well as some spoilers for the quest “A New Star Approaches”

Author's Note: Another one shot that I wrote incredibly sleep deprived. The inspiration for this one came from a tiktok, but also just Washing Machine Heart by Mitski in general. (My working title for this was I Know Who You Pretend I Am.) I was going to make this sad but I’m a sucker for a happy ending. Please Enjoy :)

After beginning work at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor a few months ago, you have grown rather close to the parlor’s consultant, Mr. Zhongli. However, the closer you two become, the stranger he begins to act.

Saffron light danced across the walls of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor as rays of afternoon sun filtered through its windows. Business was extremely slow that day, which you supposed was probably a good thing given your line of work. But, your eyelids seemed to become heavier and heavier as the day dragged on. Hu Tao, your boss, was humming a familiar tune as she scurried around the parlor doing this and that. You had recently been hired as a bookkeeper for the funeral parlor and while the job paid well, you had your work cut out for you. Keeping up with all of Hu Tao’s elaborate marketing schemes, and the parlor’s frivolous spending habits, was no easy task.

The majority of spending was done by the parlor’s consultant, Mr. Zhongli, who was, at that moment, out working with a client. His absence in the building was significant to all of the employees, but maybe none more so than you. You and Zhongli had grown rather close during your time at the funeral parlor. He was exceedingly kindhearted and possessed an almost encyclopedia-like knowledge of the world, all while being entirely clueless and naïve, which made him unintentionally hilarious. Not to mention he was gorgeous. His features were like chiseled stone and he had the most mesmerizing pair of amber eyes you had ever seen. However, despite his charms, lately, the time you were spending with Zhongli was leaving you with a strange taste in your mouth.

About a week prior, Zhongli had invited you out to dinner. He insisted that he had mora this time and dinner would be his treat. The two of you thoroughly enjoyed the best of Liuli Pavilion’s Li-style cuisine, but upon receiving the bill, you noticed something was wrong. Despite the fact that you both had decided to indulge yourselves a bit, the amount on the bill was way more than you had anticipated. Zhongli said it was fine and that he could just pay it, but you waved a server over and found out that the restaurant had given you someone else’s bill by mistake. After the ordeal was sorted out Zhongli commented that:

“You always were such a brilliant person.” What was undoubtedly supposed to be a compliment from your dinner partner puzzled you. You and Zhongli had not known each other for very long, a few months at most. For him to phrase his sentence like that, like he had known you a long time ago, was strange, especially for someone as well spoken as him.

“Well, I am a bookkeeper, it’s my job to keep track of costs.” You replied, trying your best to dismiss the strange feeling that had washed over you. He must have just gotten his words confused, it wasn’t a big deal.

A few days later the temperature was uncharacteristically chilly for Liyue, so you had fished out a blouse from the back of your closet. You couldn’t remember the last time you wore it but you thought it would be perfect for the weather. It had billowing sleeves made from a fine silk, light enough that you wouldn’t be too hot at work, but conservative enough so you wouldn’t get cold. When you arrived at the Funeral parlor, you were immediately dragged into a conversation with Hu Tao who began talking your ear off about her new advertising plans. As you two were conversing, a voice could be heard from behind you.

“Ah, sporting your signature look today, I see.” Zhongli’s eyes were trained on you, but you couldn’t make sense of his statement. Thankfully, you didn’t have to question him, as your boss had already begun to do so in your stead,

“What are you talking about?” Hu Tao asked, she shifted her weight from the heels to the balls of her feet repeatedly as she spoke. She seldom had the ability to sit still.

“Your, um-,” Zhongli sputtered, gesturing broadly towards you, “Your...hair?”

“You seem pretty unsure of yourself.” Hu Tao chided.

“Are you feeling alright, Mr. Zhongli?” You asked nervously. The man nodded, raising a hand to his temple.

“Yes. My apologies. I don’t know what came over me.” You glanced in the direction of your boss, and you both shared a concerned look.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day off, Zhongli? You’ve been working awfully hard recently.” Hu Tao offered. But, Zhongli shook his head.

“That won’t be necessary. Thank you, director.” Zhongli said before excusing himself, to return to his office.

The following days had gone by without incident, though Mr. Zhongli’s condition did not seem to be improving. If anything he was becoming more absent minded by the second. When he wasn’t working he would be found looking wistfully out the funeral parlor windows or wandering the streets of Liyue Harbor alone.

The bell on the door of the funeral parlor rang, prying you away from your thoughts.

“Zhongli! You’re back!” Hu Tao exclaimed, running across the room towards the door to greet the man. He nodded along to what she was saying, Humming intermittently so as to show his interest. You admired him as he brushed a stray piece of hair behind his ear before taking on a pensive stance, with one hand across his chest, and the other resting on his chin. When Hu Tao was finished lecturing Zhongli, he turned in your direction, and began walking towards you. Quickly, you tried to busy yourself with something, anything to make it seem like you hadn’t just been staring at him longingly.

“I got you something.” Zhongli said, a small smile was visible on his lips, and there seemed to be a sparkle deep in his eyes.

“Oh?” you directed your attention away from the paperwork you had been pretending to read, “What is it?”

“I brought you glaze lilies, your favorite.” You smiled back at Zhongli, only because his smile was so contagious. However, inside you were torn. You couldn’t remember expressing preference for any flower in particular. If you had to pick a favorite you supposed it would be silk flowers. Hu Tao often went to pick the flowers and recently had begun to bring you along with her, so you had grown rather fond of them. The kindness of Zhongli’s gesture was not entirely lost on you. He got you flowers which, the more you thought about it, made your heart melt. But the man was clearly confused, or at the very least confusing you with someone else.

You graciously accepted the flowers from Zhongli, and hugged him goodbye as he left for the day. Once he was gone, you laid the flowers down on your desk and approached your boss. You were hesitant to interrupt her as it appeared she was actually working for possibly the first time that day. However, that all went out the window when she noticed your presence.

“What’s up?” She questioned, pushing her work to the side. You sighed, and pulled up a chair to sit in front of her.

“Has Zhongli ever been in a relationship before?” Hu Tao snorted, but quickly covered her mouth with her hand.

“No, not in the time that I’ve known him, at least.” She leaned towards you, resting her chin on her hands. “Buuuuuut I do know he keeps lots of things in that office of his. If you snooped around there a bit, I wouldn’t tell.” Your boss winked at you, while she simultaneously stuck her tongue out, making you laugh.

“Are you sure that’s alright?” You asked, rising from your chair. Hu Tao shrugged,

“Beats me. But it’s worth a shot.” She paused for a moment, “I’m worried about him too.” You nodded, before setting course for Zhongli’s office.

A musky scent confronted you as soon as you opened the door. It reminded you of how Zhongli’s coat smelled when he had lent it to you once in the rain. Since consulting was often done in the field, more often than not, Zhongli’s office sat empty meaning that the smells of dust and old documents were preserved in the air. You turned over documents that lay strewn about the desk, before moving to the book shelves. Your fingers skimmed across their spines as you read the title of each book with care. The shelves, unlike the rest of the room, were orderly, each volume of every encyclopedia in alphanumeric order.

At first glance all of the books looked to be the same. But as your fingertips danced across one in particular, it stood out to you. The book’s spine appeared to be significantly more worn than the rest on the shelf, it was cracked from repeated opening, and it’s title was dull and difficult to make out in the dim light of the office. You carefully removed it from it’s spot on the shelf to view the cover. It read Stone Tablet Compilations: Vol. I. Using your fingers as a guide, you found the most worn section and began to read.

The more you read, the more things began to fall into place. One name came up over and over in the tear stained pages of the encyclopedia. A name you have never heard before. A name of an ancient god, long before the time of the seven. Guizhong. Her story was told on the pages in your hands. Her vast intellect and humility. Her love of flowers, billowing sleeves, and Rex Lapis.

“If Guizhong was really his lover, then…” You muttered aloud to yourself, a wave of realization swept over you. It seemed impossible yet, there were too many similarities to ignore. You staggered to the shelf and replaced the encyclopedia before leaving the parlor in search of Zhongli, not even bothering to explain to Hu Tao where you were going.

You remembered vaguely where Zhongli lived, you had gone there once with your boss on an errand. When you finally found the familiar town house, you knocked three times on the door, and only had to wait a moment before it opened.

“What a pleasant surprise.” A bright smile lit up Zhongli’s face, as he stepped to the side. “Please come in.” You entered Zhongli’s home and it took a minute for your eyes to adjust to how dark it was. As you stood unmoving in the center of the room, you felt a hand on the small of your back guiding you to a couch. You sat down and Zhongli took a seat across from you. “So what brings you here this afternoon?” he asked appraisingly. You didn’t answer for a moment. Maybe coming here was a mistake. But you couldn’t back out now, you wanted more than anything to help him. And to do that you needed to know the truth.

“Zhongli, I-” you started finally, “I am very fond of you. I hope you know that. Although we haven’t known each other for very long, I feel very connected to you.” Zhongli nodded along as you spoke.

“I feel the same way.” He admitted, not lifting his gaze from your face.

“But, I can’t help but think that when you look at me. You aren’t seeing me.”

“What are you talking about? Of course I see you, I-” You cut him off,

“Glaze lilies were her favorite flower weren’t they.” You paused, your eyes searched his face, “Guizhong.” You watched Zhongli’s breath hitch and he stood up abruptly. You stood up too, and took a tentative step towards the man in front of you. “Zhongli, I really care about you and lately you’ve been worrying me.” You took another step towards Zhongli. His eyes were wide with panic, as if he were one of those thieving weasels in the countryside that had just been spotted by an adventurer.

You took another step, you were close enough to touch him now. Slowly, you moved your hands up his forearms until they were at his elbows, and his were at yours. You stood like that for a moment, holding one another gingerly. “I’m not her, Zhongli.” All at once, Zhongli closed the gap between you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. You could feel his shoulders shake lightly as he began to cry in your arms.

He tells you everything. That he once loved the God of Dust, Guizhong, how he was forced to kill her during the archon war, and that he was actually the Geo Archon, Morax. When he finally finished, so had his tears. He pulled away slightly, and looked at you as if he were seeing you for the first time.

“The way that I feel about you, I had only ever felt like that towards Guizhong. So, I thought that you were her, or that you had her spirit somewhere inside of you.” Zhongli raised a hand to your cheek, brushing it gently with his thumb. “But I realize that you are not her. And that you are your own beautiful, intelligent, and magnificent person. I do not long to mourn Guizhong through you. I want to cherish you and only you. Please, Forgive me.”

You felt hot tears begin to roll down your cheeks and Zhongli wiped them away tenderly with his fingers. “Would it be alright if I kissed you?” He asked quietly, his eyes glued to yours. You nodded slowly, and Zhongli wasted no time before pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was short and, quite literally, sweet. His lips tasted of honey and tea leaves causing you to smile into your kiss before it was over. Being with Zhongli, you felt grounded, like it was exactly where you were supposed to be. Zhongli connected your foreheads and gazed into your eyes lovingly. “You know,” Zhongli murmured, his voice low, “I am rather fond of courtship as a mortal tradition.” You hummed in response,

“Is that your way of asking me on a date?” You clarified, causing Zhongli to let out a laugh.

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

“Then I accept.”

[holykillercake]

One Year

pairing: Zoro x Reader

word count: 2k

summary: No summary this time. I´ll just say this ¨Bartholomew Kuma and Sabaody¨. Read at your own risk. Seriously, ¨KUMA AND SABAODY¨, do you understand?

highlight: ¨Everyone did their best, but no one could have done better.¨

warnings: angst with happy ending; Sabaody Archipelago spoilers (?)

notes: Hey guys! This was a request from @roronoatrash​ in which ¨Zoro who has 0 sense of direction seemed to always find his way back to is s/o, and his s/o only.¨. I really hope you like it!💚 This is also the first time I write a Devil Fruit user, so I'm considering a sequel to develop the character and add more humor.

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖘, 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙𝖘, 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊!

It was a cloudy and melancholic day in the New World. The men on board were leisurely enjoying their afternoon; some drinking, some napping, some eating. The air was humid and cold, and the tides were strangely calm. No one seemed to care. After all, that was the New World. 

¨Boss!¨ the lookout shouted from the crow's nest ¨Something is falling from the sky! It´s going to land on deck!¨

All men tilted their heads to look at the sky, watching a tiny black spot become bigger and more recognizable.

¨Is that what I think it is?¨ the captain asked himself, not believing his eyes.

¨Boss, is that a girl?¨

¨Yep, I think so.¨

They stood still watching what they suspected was a girl fall from the skies. The red-haired took a quick glimpse at his first-mate and officers, and since no one moved, he felt safe to assume that that was not a threat. Mainly because whatever was falling towards the ship looked dead already. 

The body fell through the main deck and went straight to the lower level of the ship. The captain and his officers stood around the hole on the wooden floor, observing the unconscious and injured body of a girl. 

¨I´ve seen some crazy things rain around here... but this is new.¨ he spoke.

They were ready to have someone dispose of the dead body when the girl opened her eyes, putting herself on her shaky legs. Blood dripped from her eyebrows and nose, and she had bruises all over. Her eyes wandered around as if she was looking for something.

¨Z-Zoro...¨ she spoke when her teary eyes met the captain´s ¨I-I need to find Zoro.¨ 

That was all she said before falling on her knees and collapsing. 

                                                             </>

Almost a year has passed since the tragedy in Sabaody Archipelago. A year passed since you were defeated in the fight against the marine force. Your gashes closed, and your bruises healed, but there was a wound that would not go away, even after one year. 

So much had happened since that day. Luffy had broken into Impel Down, fought in the Paramount War, and lost his brother, Ace. A few days later you received the hidden message he had left you, saying that you were no longer going to meet in Sabaody in three days but in two years.

It took you a while to understand the situation you and the rest of the Strawhats were in, and it took you even more to let go of your selfishness and trust them. The guilt for not being strong enough to protect yourself and your comrades ate you alive during the first weeks, but then you considered how they must be feeling too. No one could have done better. 

Everyone did their best, but no one could have done better. 

For one year, whenever a News Coo flew by to deliver a newspaper, you would run and grab it before anyone did, hoping to see another message from your friends. But the status of your captain was the only one you knew so far. You knew he was training with Rayleigh-san, and this whole two years thing should have been his idea. 

When Bartholomeu Kuma used his Devil Fruit powers on you, you ended up landing on the ship of the Red Hair Pirates. They would always tell you how you rained on their Red Force and broke the deck floor. They said you were looking for someone, and during your stay in the infirmary, you would always call for the same person. 

For months nightmares had you waking up in the middle of the night panting and crying. The same one, torturing you in an infinite and merciless loop. 

Every detail, color, and noise. Everything was so precise and clear in your head. 

When he fought still injured from the last encounter with the Shichibukai; when he stood up and faced the Warlord fearlessly. Even with the damages caused by Kizaru and the Pacifistas, he stood up. 

And maybe your eyes fooled you, maybe your exhausted body played a sick trick on you because he was there until he wasn´t.

 Right in front of your eyes.

 His cropped green hair and tanned skin, the vibrant red and white striped shirt, the scar across his chest, the haramaki, and the swords. Gone, simple as that. 

But after all the training that you had with the Red Hair Pirates, you seemed more in peace with yourself. After one year, the nightmares would bother you only every once in a while. You were not prepared for the New World before, maybe still aren´t, but you will get there. 

And they made everything easier. It was no mystery why Luffy liked them so much. Whenever you were not engaged in a fight or some other Emperor crap, those guys were incredibly light-spirited. And the moment they realized you were part of Luffy´s crew they treated your wounds and welcomed you onboard. 

Shanks agreed to have his men training you, but he made very clear that no one would babysit you, so it was ¨keep up or keep out.¨. You spent most of your time with Yassop, Benn, or Roux, for they were the best in the abilities you exercised. 

Inside the Strawhats you were a stealth agent, mostly because of your Devil Fruit, the Nagi Nagi no Mi, once possessed by a Marine Commander. Another Supernova, the Surgeon of Death Trafalgar Law had told you that before shit broke in Sabaody. 

You used that combined with your fighting skills to breach the enemy´s first line of defense before they saw you coming. Usually, Usopp would assist you with the sniper training, trade he ¨learned from a friend¨, Sogeking. 

His father was an extraordinary sniper, and he used the same kind of firearms as you, differently than Usopp´s slingshot. Benn´s combat skills were remarkable, and Roux was exceptionally fast for a man his size. You haven´t had a lot of opportunities to fight the Red Hair himself, though you had a strong will, his Haki was something you have never seen before. 

¨We´re going to a bar, kid. You´re coming?¨ Benn asked you with his cigarette on his lips. 

You pondered a little over his invitation but decided to decline it. ¨Thanks, Benn, but I´m keeping a low profile tonight.¨ He nodded and smiled, turning to follow his crewmates ¨Don´t drink too much, we have training tomorrow!¨ 

The first mate laughed shortly and spoke without looking at you ¨Roger that, kid.¨ 

You walked the opposite way, wandering between the vegetables and gimmicks tents, feeling the kind sunset kiss your skin. There was some music playing, kids running around with ice cream in their hands, laughing loudly and happily. Marketers were announcing their prices, housewives were thinking about delicious recipes to prepare for their families, and couples would sit together around the font, swearing love to each other.

Every day was like that. The citizens would wish their neighbors ¨good morning¨ from their windows; bakers would open the doors early, letting the delightful smell of fresh bread wake up those who slept in.  

How could you, in the middle of all that happiness, feel so sad and lost?

You sighed and made a route change. Maybe you needed a little bit of booze. 

The island where Shanks had decided to dock was in the Grand Line, a place where they were known and welcomed. So you knew where they were, and it would be a short walk to get there.

¨Y/N?¨ 

You turned automatically, thinking that a crew member had gotten lost and was looking for his captain - or boss, how he likes to be called.

 But when you saw the man standing in front of you, everything stopped. The music, the kids, and the love promises. 

At some point, you started to cry and hyperventilate, believing you were in another nightmare, and you would have to go through that day all over again. Your lover carried pain in his eyes as well, like his fears were the same as yours. 

Those minutes you stared at each other felt like hours while you kept every detail of him in your memory. His hair was slightly longer, and his complexion was paler, even with the sunset painting his skin. 

¨Z-Zoro...¨ you whispered shakily.

He gave a step forward ¨Y/N... it´s you...¨ 

You ran in his direction as soon as your name fell out of his mouth. Your arms embraced his neck, and your legs gave up when he held you tight against his body, whispering comforting words as you broke into tears. 

¨I...¨ nothing but sobs came out.

¨I know... me too.¨ he fondled your hair and hid his face in the curve of your neck. And there stood the both of you, not wanting to let the other go. 

                                                          </>

¨How did you know I was here?¨ you asked and he blushed a little.

¨I didn´t... I had to buy stuff for the castle, and I got lost.¨ a loud laugh came out of your mouth. It was so obvious, how didn´t you guess that?

¨They didn´t give you a log pose?¨

¨They did, but I took a nap and when I woke up, I was here.¨

You spent the rest of the day cuddling on the beach sand. Zoro was laying on his back, and you were resting on his chest. You had one year worth of conversation to catch up on, and neither of you rushed to do so. He told you about Mihawk, the creepy island in which the only native habitants were copycat human drills, the boat he destroyed, and even how he begged the Warlord to train him.

The sun had started to hide behind the sea, and the warm sand was cooling down. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore together with the salty breeze made you question if you had died at some point, and that was heaven.

¨You´re paler.¨ he chuckled.

¨It´s not very sunny where I´m living.¨ 

¨Hm...¨ you hummed ¨And how long did you take to figure out Luffy´s message?¨ 

¨Oh...¨ he thought for a second ¨ I knew right away.¨ you giggled and doodled on his chest with your finger. 

You felt his chest go up and down as he let out a sigh. 

¨I missed you, Y/N.¨ he hugged you tighter. 

¨I missed you too.¨ you stayed in silence for a few minutes ¨Anyway, when are you setting sail again?¨ You asked him softly, and he tensed up. ¨I know... ¨ your lips began to tremble ¨ I don´t want to go either, but what happened in Sabaody... I don´t want that to happen ever again.¨ you bit your lip as tears started to roll on your cheeks. 

He wiped the tears with his fingers and pulled you closer. None of you wanted to part ways again, but not only those were your captain´s order that was your future. If something like that happens again in the New World, a two-year separation would be the best scenario possible. 

¨It won´t. I promise.¨

When the night came, you decided to stay on the beach and talked until you fell asleep under the stars. The best sleep you´ve had in a long time. No nightmares, no agony, and no pain. Just the warmth and peace you missed so much.

On the following morning, you helped him get the provisions for Mihawk´s castle. You toured around the city holding hands and joking, kinda like the couples sitting by the font, enjoying every second you had before he left. 

If he didn´t get lost trying to go back to Kuraigana Island, it would be a quick trip. You assisted him with the bags and walked him to his boat. Your heart ached to say goodbye to him, but you had to. The circumstances were bigger than the two of you.

¨I love you, Zoro.¨ you hugged him and tried not to cry again.

¨I love you more, Y/N.¨

¨Careful with the naps, ok?¨ he chuckled and nodded ¨One year. We´ll meet again in one year.¨ 

¨Wait for me. I´ll go get you, and we´ll return to Sabaody together.¨ 

¨But how will you know where I will be?¨

¨It doesn´t matter where you´ll be. I´ll always find you.¨

[link4eva]

Kiro’s Chanting Praise Date Translation [CN]

Hi, everyone! Just a couple of notes before you begin reading. I don’t actually know Chinese so this translation was done through the power of Google Translate and with help from @keliosyfan​. Thank you! 💛

The translation below contains spoilers for a date not yet released in the ENG server so please don’t look below the cut if you don’t want to be spoiled.

You can read the call that comes before the date here!~

Hope you enjoy!~

*Spoilers for future content below!*

In the depths of the Golden Palace, there is a silver-haired prince.

His palace gate is always shut and no one can enter

His figure is covered by shadows and he has never seen the sun.

His voice was cursed by a demon and could not be heard.

Guard: Find him!!

Guard: Where did he go?

Disharmonious sounds suddenly sounded in the lively market. The sound of footsteps hurriedly came from afar, arousing the curiosity of the vendors.

The guards were fierce-looking. They were wielding scimitars and looked as though they were searching for someone. One of the guards walked up to me and looked me up and down a few times.

Guard: Hey, woman. 

Guard: Did you see a kid in a cloak passing by?

MC: No. I’ve been here the whole time and haven’t seen any strange people.

MC: Has the kid in question committed anything?

Guard: Humph, just a little mouse that sneaked into our master’s house!

Guard: I’ll ask you again, are you sure you haven’t seen this person? If you dare to lie….

He raised the sharp scimitar as he spoke. I couldn’t help but shrink back as I tried to keep my voice calm.

MC: I would never dare to lie to the great Lord Jinsha. I really haven’t seen this person.

MC: You can prove it by asking the person next to you!

The guard looked around. As expected, the other vendors waved to him and said that they hadn’t seen him. He snorted angrily.

Guard: Since you haven’t seen him, don’t get in the way!

The guard pushed me against the wall and ran to the other end of the alley.

After watching the family members disappear, I quietly patted the big wooden basket behind me.

MC: Alright, it’s ok to come out.

??: ….! 

The wooden basket shook slightly and the straw on top was pushed aside by a slender hand, revealing messy blond hair under the cloak and a pair of bright blue eyes.

The blond kid poked out half of his head and looked side to side before smiling up at me.

MC: Don’t worry, no one ratted you out.

The vendors all around showed friendly smiles to the kid. He pulled off his mask in relief.

The kid jumped out of the wooden basket swiftly and gave me a brilliant smile.

??: But you are the one I should be most grateful for!

??: My name is Kiro. What about you?

MC: My name is MC.

Kiro: MC….

He said my name again and nodded.

Kiro: Well, I’ll remember your name and I will repay you in the future! 

He said this as he put on his cloak. As he was about to leave, I grabbed his wrist.

MC: I don’t want it in the future. Can you do me a favour now? I need it quickly!

I hurriedly spoke, not letting Kiro have the chance to refuse me.

MC: Didn’t you get chased by a guard because you snaked into the mansion of Lord Jinsha?

MC: Then you can probably tell me, did you see a travelling artist like me in it?

Kiro looked at me with a slightly surprised expression.

Kiro: Travelling artist? Is there something wrong with them?

MC: They….

MC: It’s too hard to talk here. Come with me.

I looked around vigilantly, put on my veil, and beckoned to Kiro.

Passing through the alleys, the hustle and bustle gradually grew farther and farther.

I led Kiro through the city and finally stopped in front of a travelling artist’s caravan.

MC: This is my home.

MC: I am a dancer in a travelling theatre troupe. Some time ago, I passed by here from Wangcheng to make a living in the market.

MC: Half a month ago, our theatre troupe was summoned by Lord Jinsha for a dinner performance.

MC: The people at the market all advised us not to go, saying that many others were recruited by him before. They never showed up again.

MC: But we didn’t dare defy him. I was the only one that didn’t attend as I suddenly fell ill that day but the others went.

MC: After that day…. my companions disappeared.

Kiro: They didn’t come back?

MC: Well, the caravan and luggage are still here so it would’ve been impossible for them to leave.

MC: Kiro, do you think they will be sold as slaves as the rumours say?....

Kiro: Don’t be too scared. Actually, time moved really quickly just now and I only searched part of the mansion when I snuck in. 

Kiro: Maybe your companions are staying in other rooms and I just didn’t get to see them?

MC: Even so….

Kiro’s comfort only slightly soothed my anxiety. However, an even greater worry was still surging in my heart. I sighed.

MC: Alas….if there is any way to save them, it would be great.

Kiro: I have a solution, wanna try? 

Kiro: Actually, I was um…. a spy and took a job. So, I had to sneak into the mansion of Lord Jinsha to investigate.

Kiro: I was discovered by a guard at that moment which caused me to fail my mission. I'm thinking of how to get in again. 

Kiro: At this time, let’s cooperate and pretend to be a pair of travelling artists.

Kiro: I will be the singer and you will be the dancer! To tell you the truth, I can sing very well! 

Kiro looked excited, but, how could a spy be a good singer? I shook my head.

MC: It’s not that easy. I heard that Lord Jinsha’s ears are very particular and that it’s hard for ordinary singers to be liked by him….

My hesitation was interrupted by Kiro’s singing.

The moment the first note was sung by him, my eyes widened.

Kiro sang the simplest but cheerful melody. His voice was very low, his words very casual.

But such easy-going singing has surpassed all the singers I have ever heard.

It seems that he isn’t standing in front of a messy caravan but rather a lively banquet. And in that banquet, he is the focus.

The last lyrics left his mouth and Kiro winked at me and my stunned face.

Kiro: Would you like to cooperate with me now, little dancer? 

[Second Part]

My cooperation with Kiro is going extremely smoothly.

In just ten days, our travelling act had gained fame in the city.

Most of this fame was because of Kiro.

For some reason, no matter how simple the ballads that are sung by him seem to have colours, pictures, and smells.

Whenever he plunged into the world of music, he would inexplicably reveal a lonely and noble breath.

People wanted to get close but they didn’t dare to do so.

MC: Sometimes I think you really don’t look like a spy….

Kiro: Wait, what are you talking about?

MC: Nothing! I mean you sing so nicely. I wouldn’t be tired of hearing it even if I listened for a hundred years! 

Kiro: A hundred years? I think you could listen to it for a lifetime. 

His carefree words made my heart beat faster and my ears became a little hot for some reason. I quickly changed the subject.

MC: We’ve been practicing for a while today. Would you like to take a break and go to the street?

Kiro: Okay. Now that you mention it, I feel a little hungry.

We were going to the market to search for food. When we were passing by the long rows of houses, I suddenly heard sorrowful weeping from one of the houses.

Kiro: ….

Kiro stopped. Looking through the cracks in the dilapidated door curtain, there’s an old woman crying and holding her son.

But her son was unaware of his mother’s grief and his eyes stared up at the ceiling, saliva spilling from the corner of his mouth.

Seeing this scene, I shook my head unbearably.

MC: Another person infected by a strange disease….

MC: Last time we passed by the Royal City, we heard that there were lost souls there.

MC: Who knows when the cure will be found….

Kiro: This is not a natural disease. It’s man-made.

MC: Man-made? How do you know?

Kiro: Uh….

His eyes wandered for a while before he decided to finally answer me.

Kiro: Because….I am a subordinate of the “Silver Prince”. I am investigating this matter under his order.

MC: The silver-haired prince?!

MC: It’s the “spokesperson of the demon” whose voice is cursed in the legend and likes to manipulate others…. *Changed some wording here*

I trailed off the rest of the sentence because I saw Kiro’s face becoming a little pale.

MC: I’m sorry! I forgot that you are his subordinate and shouldn’t say that to him.

Kiro: It’s okay. Do people talk about him like this?

MC: Not really….

MC: Most of the people who say that are big landlords and wealthy merchants like Lord Jinsha and people who followed suit.

Kiro: What about you? What do you think of the silver-haired prince? 

MC: Me? I have no idea.

MC: After all, the noble existence of the prince is beyond my knowledge. Why do you ask?

Kiro: Oh….

MC: ….

Did I say something wrong again? Why do I feel that Kiro’s expression seems to be even more disappointed?

Should I just flatter his master?

Thinking of this, I quickly coughed and changed my tune.

MC: But, ah, I think the prince must not be as scary as the legend makes him out to be….

MC: He did send you to investigate the bad guys after all. He must be a very wise prince!

MC: As for the curse, the “spokesperson of the demon”, that must’ve been a rumour spread by others!

MC: I respect him with my heart!

Kiro looked at me and blinked, the corners of his mouth bent upwards uncontrollably.

Kiro: Pff….Hahahaha!

MC: Why are you laughing?

Kiro: Nothing, nothing. When I go back, I will convey your compliments to the prince! 

Kiro: When this matter is over, he will definitely reward you greatly. You can make any request.

MC: Really? Then I’ll have to think hard about what reward I want from the prince.

Seeing him happy made me happy. I turned the conversation back to the topic at hand. *Changed some wording*

MC: So, the last time you snuck into Lord Jinsha’s mansion, was it also to investigate this matter?

Kiro nodded.

Kiro: I found an incense with a strange composition in Wangcheng. This incense has a strong aroma and is highly addictive.

Kiro: Long-term exposure will cause people to lose their souls.

Kiro: I tracked it down all the way here and finally found the main supplier of the spice; the so-called “Master of Golden Sand”. 

Kiro: But he’s good at covering his tracks. If there is no concrete evidence that he sold it, then it’s difficult to convict him.

Kiro looked back at the small house as he said this, his face contemplative.

MC: Kiro, did you think of something?

Kiro: It’s just a theory that I have that has a few loose ends. It can only be verified after successfully sneaking in.

Kiro and I had a simple meal at the market. On the way back, we suddenly found a circle of people in front of the caravan.

It was Lord Jinsha’s guards.

Kiro and I quickly glanced at each other and then walked towards the caravan together.

Kiro: Is there anything wrong, sir?

Guard: You are the famous artist couple travelling the city recently?

The guard raised his jaw arrogantly.

Guard: Follow us.

(Cut to the mansion)

Dancer: MC, your solo dance is really good! Your footwork is especially light, just like stepping on a cloud!

MC: Haha, thanks for your compliment.

I absent-mindedly exchanged greetings with other travelling artists. However, the big rock in my heart never lightened up.

The evening before yesterday, the guards took us to the mansion of Lord Jinsha. They told us that he would be holding a banquet in two days and we would be the entertainers who will perform for the banquet.

Everything is going according to plan but Kiro and I both felt a little uneasy.

It felt as if we were prey on a cobweb and some kind of behemoth spider was hanging above us, its saliva dripping greedily.

And just two hours ago, Kiro was called away by Lord Jinsha’s guests, saying that he would be performing for their private banquet.

MC: It’s already afternoon, why hasn’t he come back?

Lord Jinsha’s guests must be some domineering bastards. What if they embarrass Kiro?

I was really uneasy. I finally gritted my teeth and slid out while the people by the entrance weren’t paying attention.

The Jinsha mansion is amazingly large with its luxurious gold ornaments and white jade luxuriant flowers. I hid under the shadow of the flowers, looking for the way to the guest house.

Fweet!

There was a sharp whistle from above which made me look upward.

I saw a hawk passing by a low altitude, drawing a sharp arc, and finally flying towards one of the small courtyards.

Is there anyone there?

I silently made my way to where the hawk landed.

As soon as I approached the courtyard, I heard two male voices talking in the pavilion.

??: Jinsha, the old fox, doesn’t answer our calls at all. He just pretends to be stupid whenever he mentions incense.

??: I guess that’s it.

One of the voices is low and strange. And the other….

It’s Kiro.

I carefully plucked the flowering branches and saw the familiar figure not far away. 

Kiro had his back to me while leaning leisurely on the soft pillow, playing with a string of jewels in his hands.

On the other side of the pavilion stood a wealthy, middle-aged man who looked at him respectfully.

The hawk was perched on his shoulder, making a gentle cooing sound in his throat.

In the afternoon, the bright light of the scorching sun made his hair gleam and outlined the muscles on his thin waist.

The kid’s expression is arrogant and cold, like a little singer “coerced” over to perform.

If it weren’t for him still wearing that coarse cloth, I would almost think he was the deity who mastered the sun.

The light is dazzling; it’s too bright to look at.

Kiro: He has already discovered that he’s been exposed in Wangcheng’s business network and certainly won’t dare to make a public appearance. 

Kiro: Tonight’s banquet, no matter what method you use, you must hold him back. If necessary, you’re allowed to make a little mess.  

Wealthy Man: Yes.

Listening to the conversation between the two, there was a buzzing in my head.

Kiro actually planned this banquet? Lord Jinsha’s guests are Kiro’s people?

Isn’t he just a spy? How could he make that wealthy middle-aged man act so respectfully to him?

Before I had time to think more, Kiro seemed to have noticed something and quickly turned his head!

Kiro: Who’s there?! 

[Third Part]

Those blue eyes sharply locked onto the flower bush where I was hiding. Knowing that I could no longer hide, I had to laugh out loud.

MC: It’s me.

Kiro: MC? Why are you here?

MC: I….You hadn’t come back after a while….I was worried….

Kiro was startled but the expression of the wealthy man beside him changed.

Wealthy Man: How dare you eavesdrop!-

Kiro: It’s okay, she’s with me.

Kiro interrupted him.

He shook his arm and the hawk flew away from his elbow.

Kiro stood up from the cushion. When he was about to say something, his eyes passed behind me and his pupils shrank.

I didn’t know why he looked like this. When I looked back, I was shocked.

A large number of guards were coming toward us aggressively!

Wouldn’t we be exposed?! 

Kiro: Follow me! 

Kiro made a decision and stretched out his hand towards me.

I didn’t dare to hesitate. I quickly ran to the other side of the pavilion with him.

Even though Kiro had figured out the layout of the mansion, the sounds of footsteps blocked our escape routes.

Seeing that there was a guard who could find us at just another turn, we couldn’t hide and had to rush into a room next to us.

Unexpectedly, the room was actually a small vault belonging to Lord Jinsha. There was a lot of gold and silver piled up but almost no place to hide.

If you were to take a torch inside, you would easily be able to see our shadows inside!

Kiro: Here, there’s a treasure chest!

Without hesitation, he pushed me into the treasure chest and jumped in after me. 

The small treasure chest held the two of us in such a confined space that we had no other choice but to stay close together.

Kiro held the heavy top of the treasure chest with one hand, the slightly rapid breath escaping from his lips fanned onto the tip of my nose. It felt as though it was burning.

The swaying firelight gradually approached and stopped outside the room.

Guard: Where did they go?

Guard: You must kill him immediately after finding him!

The word “kill” made me tremble. Kiro sensed my fear and lightly pressed his large hand on my shoulder.

Kiro: It’s okay. 

Just outside the door were the guards walking with the jewels under him. This was a life-or-death situation.

His embrace is so warm; it makes it feel easy to rely on him.

Guard: Over there!-

The yell outside of the door distracted the guard.

The chaotic footsteps gradually disappeared and the two of us let out a sigh of relief. We couldn’t help but look at each other.

With just a glance, my heart skipped a beat and my face flushed uncontrollably. 

So close…. 

It was close enough that I could see the thin layer of sweat on Kiro’s forehead, the worry in his blue eyes, and the suspicious blush creeping up onto the tips of his ears.

MC: I….

Kiro: I….

Kiro and I spoke in unison and closed our mouths unanimously.

Kiro turned his gaze to the side and whispered.

Kiro: They’re gone. Let’s get out of here first.

MC: Ah, okay.

We gently pull ourselves out of the treasure chest and tidy up each other’s messy clothes.

After the crisis, what came to my mind again was self-blame.

On the eve of the banquet, the mansion was in absolute mayhem. Kiro’s plan for next week would definitely be greatly affected.

MC: Sorry, it’s all my fault….

Kiro: You don’t have to blame yourself. They aren’t looking for you.

MC: Huh?

Kiro: I just listened to what that yell was about. “Incense Person”.

MC: Incense person? You mean….

The lost soul incense secretly sold by Lord Jinsha and the travelling artists who were missing….

All sorts of clues flashed through my mind. I blurted out amidst my thoughts.

MC: That’s why he has to recruit so many travelling artists!

MC: Because travelling artists have no designated homes, no one cares if they disappear as they think they just moved on to the next city.

MC: Have my companions also….

Ominous sensations rose from my heart, my hands and feet turned cold.

At this moment, my fingers suddenly stiffened. Kiro shook my hand firmly.

Kiro: Don’t think too much about it. 

Kiro: Let’s change our thinking. Since some people who tried the spice were able to escape its effects, it means that they must have been hiding somewhere from Lord Jinsha.

Kiro: We just need to find them and rescue them.

The warmth from his palm calmed my anxiety.

I grinned reluctantly at him and nodded.

Kiro: The banquet is going to start in a bit and the guards should be going to the front area. Let’s take the opportunity to go back.

MC: Okay.

I followed him for two steps out the door before I suddenly felt that something was wrong.

I lowered my head and looked at the floor tiles under my bare feet.

Although these tiles are exactly the same, the sensitivity of my dancer’s feet made me discover an anomaly.

MC: Kiro, the feel of this tile seems to be different from the others.

Kiro: How is it different?

MC: It’s almost like I’m stepping on a cloud….

Kiro’s eyebrows adjusted slightly. He walked to the floor tiles, knelt down, and fumbled with it for a while. He then knocked on the tile. 

Kiro: There’s nothing under this tile.

MC: It’s empty?

MC: Could it be that he hid the “Incense Person” underground?

Kiro: It’s very possible. Let’s go down and take a look. 

MC: But the banquet is about to begin. What if the guards find out that we are here investigating?

Kiro: But if we find evidence of Lord Jinsha doing terrible things on the down-low, then we won’t have to attend the party.

MC: What you said makes sense!

MC: And he doesn’t deserve to hear your beautiful singing!

Kiro raised his eyebrows when he heard what I said, his eyes bright.

Kiro: Yes. This time, his crime must be completely exposed! 

[Fourth Part]

The tile opened downwards, revealing a ruined black passage; it stared at us like an abyss.

Kiro walked in front, holding on to me with one hand and the wall with the other, carefully exploring onward.

After stepping onto the last step around the corner, a light suddenly appeared in front of him.

Kiro: Follow me.

Walking out of the passage, what is presented before us is the underground treasure room of Lord Jinsha!

Boxes of gold and silver, gorgeous jewelry, expensive cloth….

Treasures even rarer than the ones above us are collected in this dark secret room.

It exuded a sparkling light under the flaming glow of the torches.

Kiro probed around and followed the flames. Suddenly, his eyes lit up.

Kiro: There is a secret door here! 

We rushed to the secret stone door. Upon pushing the door open a crack, a scent of moly and a weird spice came flooding out from it. 

Everyone was wearing the costumes they used for their performance but their eyes were glazed over; like a group of dolls at the mercy of others.

Like the lost souls I saw in the slums.

MC: You were right! Everyone is here!

In the depths of the crowds, I suddenly saw my companion!

She seemed to still have some form of consciousness. After hearing what I said, she turned slightly in my direction, showing me a desperate smile.

MC: Ah, come on, Kiro! We have to rescue them!

Kiro: I know. Go and call out for help-

Lord Jinsha: Who do you want to call out for, little mouse?

A voice rang out from behind us; with black malice like a serpent’s message.

Kiro and I turned around suddenly. Lord Jinsha led a large number of guards into the secret room.

He sneered and looked at us; as if he were looking at two dying bugs.

I saw his fat and ugly face. I felt my anger instantly rush to the top of my head.

MC: Why are you doing this to them?!

Lord Jinsha: Why?

Lord Jinsha: As I see it, these travelling artists are the dregs of society and have no value at all.

Lord Jinsha: They should be honoured to try the incense for me.

MC: You-!

Kiro: How could these travelling artists be worthless? 

Kiro: They have travelled to many different places, danced and sang, and spread the joy of life to many others.

Kiro: They are truly priceless “golden sands” and treasures in this country.

Kiro: The only one with no value here is you.

Kiro held back some anger in that retort.

Lord Jinsha’s squinted eyes immediately turned to Kiro.

Lord Jinsha: Eh, are you the little mouse that sneaked in some time ago?

Kiro: ….

Lord Jinsha: Mouse, do you think that I don’t know who you are? You are as crazy and ridiculous as your master.

Lord Jinsha: A prince, who’s been locked in a palace all his life, wants to bring me down? You wish!

He waved his hand and the guards behind him lunged at us!

A cold light flashed in an instant, Kiro’s eyes were dazzling. He took me in his arms and spit out two words.

Kiro: Weapons down! *Changed some wording here*

When he finished speaking, the guards in front of him suddenly trembled as if someone had pitched their wrists. Their fingers released the hilts of the scimitars they were holding.

When the scimitars fell to the ground, Kiro kicked a few people out of the way and led me to the door.

Lord Jinsha opened his mouth in disbelief.

Lord Jinsha: Who are you?! Impossible! Don’t you dare try to escape!

The man stepped back suddenly and pulled down a mechanism on the wall!

In an instant, a hole in the wall appeared, and a row of arrows shot straight at us!

MC: Watch out!

My instinct was to push Kiro out of the way. In the next instant, the sharp pain of an arrow in my back hit me.

I gritted my teeth and called to Kiro with the last bit of breath in me.

MC: Kiro, get out quickly! Tell everyone this! Tell the silver-haired prince!

Kiro: The prince already knew. 

My eyes widened. Before I realized what he meant, I fell to the ground.

Darkness and warmth surrounded me together.

??: Wake up, MC….Wake up….

A faint voice rang in my ear, urging me to open my eyes.

MC: Huh?....

I slowly opened up my eyes. There was a bright moon above my head.

MC: I’m here….

I looked around and found that I was still in the courtyard of Lord Jinsha, surrounded by countless royal guards escorting the other guards in an orderly manner.

The wound on my back seemed to have been cleaned and bandaged. It didn’t hurt so much now.

MC:  What’s going on here?

Companion: Don’t you know?! The silver-haired prince is here!

Companion: He wiped out all the bad guys and rescued us all!

MC: What about Kiro?

Companion: Who is Kiro?

There was no need for her to answer; I have already seen him.

The golden-haired Kiro stood in the crowd surrounded by guards and attendants, and those who called him a prince.

Kiro seemed to sense my gaze. He turned his head and looked at me. He subconsciously took a couple of steps towards me before suddenly stopping again.

Kiro: I…. 

MC: You lied to me.

MC: Did you not trust me? We are partners yet you actually want to keep your true identity hidden….

Kiro: I don’t distrust you.

MC: What’s that?

Kiro: Ever since I was born, people have said that my voice is cursed by the demon and cannot be listened to.

Kiro: Although the royal family explained that it wasn’t a curse, everyone was still afraid of me.

Kiro: So, I can only pretend to be a shameless “silver-haired prince”. 

He stared at me quietly, his every word sincere.

Kiro: You’re the only one who likes to talk to me and hear me sing.

Kiro: So I want to talk to you all the time and sing to you as Kiro.

He paused and said it again.

Kiro: Sorry, MC.

Maybe there was some kind of magic in his voice but, just listening like this, my heart swelled and thumped wildly because of his words.

But how can I forgive this “liar” so easily?!

MC: I remember that you promised me that the prince will reward me greatly after the matter is over, right?

Kiro: I remember. 

MC: I’ll think of a reward now and the punishment for you lying to me, which I’ll only tell you, also.

I stretched my hand out in front of him.

MC: Your Royal Highness, please come and honour it!

Kiro’s expression stiffened as if waiting for some kind of cruel prank, and walked towards me with a guilty conscience.

The moment he leaned over, I hooked my arms around his neck.

MC: The punishment is that His Royal Highness must do whatever I say. 

MC: Just say….

My lips pressed against his cheek.

MC: “I want to talk to MC for a hundred years and sing songs for her for a hundred years.” 

Wind and sand rolled over the hills and the travelling artist’s caravan set off again.

They sang travelling ballads, letting the story of the silver-haired prince spread across the mainland.

Legend has it that on a bright and sunny day, the prince’s always-closed palace doors suddenly opened up and welcomed everyone. 

There is no demon nor a curse; only laughter and good wine.

The beautiful and timeless singing of the prince will always be heard in the palace, making the people happy.

And wherever the singing sounds, there will be a girl to accompany him.

[End]

You can read the call that comes after this date here!~

[angelkurenai]

Cheesy fanfics - Dean Winchester x Reader

Title: Cheesy fanfics

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word count: 3,520

Warnings: Spoilers for 15x20 I guess

Prompt: Hey! Thought I'd help your creativity out a little bit! How about "I almost asked you out in Winter Ball back in highschool but I chickened out and now it's Christmas and we're both alone and single so maybe this is a second chance?" Very Hallmark Movie esque, but I have faith in your creativity and am sure you're gonna kill it (if you choose to do it of course!). Hope it helps!

“You have to be kidding me.” you gasped, pressing a hand over your mouth as your eyes widened “Dean? Is that really you?”

“Depends, do I still look like the guy you remember? Or am I the old ass idiot I saw in the mirror this morning?” he joked, almost giving himself a pat on the shoulder for how playful he sounded and how he didn't trip over his words.

He had tripped over the cereal the moment he saw you, already, anyway. He was glad you had not noticed him at that moment because with his luck, he would have made an even worse fool of himself and ended up on the floor faster than could be humanly possible. But, in his defense, they weren't even supposed to be there and the moment he saw you, looking so damn beautiful as if not a single day had passed, he had been floored in any way that mattered other than literally.

“Oh shut up and come here, you asshole.” you scoffed, pretending to give him a glare but the smile that was on your lips was too bright for his mind to register anything else in the first place. It was all he could think about, all his treacherous heart could think of as it danced around like crazy in his chest.

“Ah hell, it's been so long.” he chuckled as well, letting his arms wrap around your form, his entire body melting on the spot as you squeezed him close to you “Too long.” he whispered, mostly to himself as he gave a squeeze in return, your body fitting perfectly with his the way it always did “I understand now though.”

He finally pulled away, though he let his arms rest on you for a few more seconds; just like he had let the hug last a bit longer than needed. It was self-indulgent, he knew it, but if he let himself memorize the way your body fit in his arms after all this time, then nobody could blame him.

“You understand?” you tilted your head to the side, and he almost felt like the air was knocked out of his lungs in that very moment. To look at you from this up close again, still in his arms, and to realize all over again just how easy it had been for him to fall for you in high school, it was inevitable that you could steal his breath away in a matter of seconds.

He cleared his throat “You didn't expect to see me all old and wrinkly. You expected to see the ghost of me, coming by to say Merry Christmas.”

“Well, you're not exactly wrong on that. Although, I didn't expect and certainly far from hoped it would be your ghost I saw this Christmas. Maybe some unlucky folk that died years ago.” you said with a soft shrug, voice low but tone as casual as talking about the weather. Fact which had not changed over the years and which brought a pleasant kind of warmth through Dean's chest, making him chuckle deeply.

“Well, thank you for your thoughtfulness. I've gotten close to that once or twice, can't deny it, but-” he noticed you stiffening up in his arms “All is good. In fact, it's better than it's ever been. You'll see. I'll get to tell you about it hopefully, one day.”

“Hopefully soon.” you said softly, nodding your head as you finally took a step backwards to put some distance between you because even though you'd have loved to stay like that forever, Dean had always been a a friend to you – a good one, yes, but one that had no idea about your feelings for him – and also because you were currently standing in the middle of the aisle as it was “Before you disappear without a single word for the next couple years or so, I suppose.”

“Yeah I uh- Well, you've got a point there. I'm-” he stopped himself, swallowing thickly over the lump in his throat “I'm really sorry about that. I- I wanted to- You have no idea how much I wanted to contact you but shit just kept getting crazier and I... I couldn't drag you into it.”

“What?” you whispered “No, no Dean, I didn't mean- That's not why I said it. I'm not mad nor do I blame you for it. No more so than I could blame life, both yours and mine. I mean, you could have always vanished without a single warning.”

“I wouldn't do that. I would never do that to you. You're too-” he stopped himself, clearing his throat “You've always been too important to me.” he confessed softly “I should just assume that I am somewhat important to you too, right? Given that I'm not a ghost by your own hand right now.”

“Hmm let's give it some time, shall we? Wait till about the end of the day to see how it turns out.” you said with a smirk, and a chuckle following soon “That is... if you will be around for that long?”

“Oh I actually plan to be around here for a lot longer than that. I mean-” he tried to hide his own giddiness when he saw the way your eyes widened and sparkled with happiness “It's Christmas, isn't it? People are celebrating and spending time with their loved ones and eating too much and watching sappy movies and I was never particularly one for the latter but it doesn't sound so bad to me.”

“You mean you're... on vacation? No ghost or vamp's got you here?” you frowned deeply.

“No, I uh I've actually been... trying to get a bit away from that. I am on vacation now, yes, but besides that I... Well, I don't do that anymore.” he said with a small shrug, not sure why he felt almost self-conscious about it “Not- Not hunting. I mean, yes, hunting. But-” he cleared his throat, taking great notice of the surprise if not shocked look you gave him “It's not like I am out. I'm more... slowly getting out of it. Taking fewer cases, looking for an actual job, you know that kind of stuff. There are fewer cases in general anyway.”

“And going on vacation, apparently.” you noted with a small smile, voice almost breathless in disbelief, and he nodded his head.

“And got a dog.” he pointed out with a grin, loving to see your eyes widen before a a wide smile spread on your lips. Gosh how he loved that smile. Always had and always would.

“Wow. Dean, that's really- wow.” you confessed, blowing out a soft breath “To tell you the truth, that was really the last thing I expected to hear. But certainly the best one too.”

“Thank you.” he smiled, and boy had he missed the way you could make his heart beat inside his chest “It's actually been so long, so much had happened since we last spoke.”

“Yeah no kidding.” you laughed “This- wow. That's incredible news, Dean. So...” you looked down shyly for a second, as if unsure “What really made you make the choice at last? The Dean I remembered didn't even see this as a chance. To get out of the life, it seemed like an impossible dream back then. Any... particular reason why now?”

“You could say that.” he nodded his head, struggling to hold back a grin when he saw the nervousness on your features, the eagerness and doubt to hear what he had to say. And it wasn't because he loved torturing you but because there was always a small part of him that held onto hope, that after all these years had not let go of you and his feelings for you, and that small- alright, great part of him, wanted to know if you were interested in him. Just like he had hoped and waited back then, trying to understand if you really had feelings for him. He had been so hesitant, unsure if he should really try his luck or if he was going to ruin the best thing he'd gotten in his whole life. In the end, he had chickened out and lost his only chance.

Or maybe so he thought. Because looking at you look at him in that way made him believe, hope even, that maybe there really were second chances in life. All he had to do was figure it out.

“Not- not that there is a person in my life that made me leave all that behind, no.” he chuckled “I'm still as single as you remember. That much hasn't changed.” he said with a half smile, feeling his heart flutter in his chest when he saw relief flood your features and your shoulders relax “It's just that, well-” he shrugged “Fighting against the devil, meeting his son and most recently beating god, well, that can change someone.”

“God as in...?” you blinked in surprise and he shrugged once more.

“Ah yeah, the big G. It was no big deal, but it had to be done, you know? He was a dick. Now somebody else is running heaven. The devil's son as I told you, he's family though so that's great. But that's a long story, I'll probably tell you another time.” he brushed it off “So yeah, as you see, things did change. And Sam and I are more free now, that's why we decided to really do what we like, honestly.”

“Yeah that really is a lo-”

“Oh and I killed Hitler, so you're welcome for that, by the way.”

“...Thank you?” you blinked, tilting your head to the side in confusion “I- Honestly, Dean, I was gonna ask if you mean it or not but knowing you? I'm fairly sure you're not joking here. And just because I wouldn't like to freak out in the middle of the market and look like some lunatic, I'm gonna change the subject yeah? Good. So-” you cleared your throat “What are your plans for the holidays? Seeing as you are in town.”

A deep chuckle left his lips and he nodded his head “Yeah, that's a better topic. Uhm honestly, haven't thought that far yet. I was just driving with Miracle, that's my dog by the way, and decided to stop by here to do some shopping without Sam shoving his rabbit food in my cart, you know?” he said, leaving out the part where seeing as the holidays were right around the corner he couldn't stop thinking about you - just like he did every time that time of the year - and drove back to the town he had first met you in hopes (and possibly with a lot of wishful thinking) that he could see you even from far away. It had not worked out in his favor the past couple times, he didn't expect it to happen this year but here he was and here you were and he felt worse than a child on Christmas' day. Giddy and buzzing with excitement and nerves, almost lightheaded the longer he looked at you.

“And you?” he asked after a few second, even though he would have been content looking at you and taking everything in forever “You got me carried around talking about my life and you didn't tell me a thing about yourself. Anything... interesting going on? I don't suppose you plan on spending the holidays all alone?... Besides your family and friends I mean.”

“Alone? No, of course not. I've got the most handsome and loyal man waiting for me at home. So I'm picking out whatever I can for the both of us now.” you grinned and he was almost sure you too could hear his heart shutter inside his chest, at least before you spoke up again “Yeah, I might have a bit trouble since I don't know what he likes yet but I think he'd find it easier to communicate with Miracle than with me, so I improvise.” you shrugged with a grin “I got a puppy a couple months ago as well.”

“Oh oh!” he blinked in surprise, his hands shaking in relief as a smile that made his cheeks hurt got plastered on his face “That's great! I remember you always wanted one. It's so great to see you finally got that. So you... I assume, you don't got... someone else then? I- I mean, not that it would have been a shock. Any guy should thank their lucky stars to have you by their side.”

“Nah no guy in my life like that. It's been a while actually. I'm just as single as you this Christmas, I'm starting to think there must be a pattern. Just like it happened back in high school, when we first met.”

“With the only difference that you're always the pretty one out of the two of us. I mean-” he laughed “Look at you, all these years have passed and you remain as beautiful as then if not more. It looks like not a single day has passed.” he breathed out the small confession, letting some of his truth slip into his words as he admired you. Things he had not been able to tell you back then slipped from his lips in a matter of seconds, though not any more easily.

“Yeah, as if.” you scoffed a laugh, looking down with a shake of your head “Besides, I remember someone else being the most popular kid in the school, even if you were the new guy. I mean, you had all the girls practically begging for a single look from you Dean. It was as if you were some god walking amongst us, even with some of that bad boy attitude. It had never been like that for me and the boys, heck I can't even remember a single guy that looked at me like I was a goddess or anything.”

If only you had decided to turn your head and take a look at him then you would get to see that and so much more. He had always looked at you as if you had put the stars up in the sky for him. Sam's words, not his. And if he had scarred off any guy with a single look or a couple more words during that time, it wasn't because he was acting worse than a territorial Alpha. Again Sam's words. The kid did talk a lot, yes, Dean had decided early on back in high school.

“I mean-” another laugh from you brought him back to the present “It's no surprise that none of the guys asked me out in Winter Ball back in high school, I didn't make it easier with how closed off I was back then.” and Dean and his looks didn't make it easier for the few that were about to ask either “So I'm cool with being alone this Christmas too. But what's really surprising is how someone like you is. I mean, you didn't go to that Winter Ball with anyone either, I remember that correctly?”

“No uh yeah, you're right. I never went to that one with anyone. Even though some girls-” he stopped himself before shaking his head, a laugh slipping past his lips as he he looked down for a moment.

“What?” you asked with a sweet grin and he almost caved right then and there. Or maybe he did, maybe he should at last.

“I just- I never realized my life was such a bad Hallmark Movie. I mean, I always thought it was a tragedy but no, gosh, it's a sappy Christmas movie.” he laugh, shaking his head in disbelief, taking in your laugh and the way it made his heart flutter.

“Why do you say that?”

“I mean-” he paused, he could take it back, he could change it, come up with something else and all this would be forgotten but then... then another chance would be lost again and this, this was not the same life anymore; he was not the same man, or better yet he was finally the man he wanted to be with a life he wanted and had full control over “I mean to say that... I almost asked you out in Winter Ball back in highschool because I've always had feelings for you but- but I chickened out and now it's Christmas and we're both alone and single, so maybe this is some second chance? Cause if it ain't that, then, it sure is a sappy movie or a cheesy fanfic... with a bad ending.”

The words were out before he could take them back. And part of him felt proud for himself, after years of endless pining and daydreaming - clearly Sam's words, thank you very much - he never thought there would come a day when he said all of this and yet here he was. Another part of him, a greater part, felt terrified. You looked at him with wide eyes, lips parted in shock and he had to hold himself from taking it back. He had lost one chance he wasn't going to lose this one too, no matter the outcome. And the outcome he did fear especially when there were no words coming out of you. His heart was pounding in his chest, all of his blood rushing in his ears and his lungs hurting because of how long he was holding his breath. His worry was slowly but surely turning into fear, however before he could say anything - not to take it back but to make you feel less bad about having to turn him down. It was an option, very plausible given how much of a catch you were as opposed to him, you spoke up.

“Or...” you spoke softly, playing nervously with the sleeve of your sweater “Or there is a third option, you know. I mean-” you shrugged and he felt like he was forever holding his breath, waiting for you to look into his eyes, holding his gaze for a few seconds before you spoke up “I always liked fanfics with happy endings?” before he could get to question you, you pointed upwards. And as his eyes followed yours, he did take notice of what you previously had. He blinked in surprise a soft laugh leaving his lips.

“Personally, I love cheesy movies or fanfics.” you said and looked back at you he noticed the shy grin that was on your lips and he made him feel 18 all over again “And if that mistletoe hasn't been there all this time... then, well, I think the new guy that's running heaven is really having a fit with our lives right now.”

“I don't know, I will really have to ask him next time I see him I think. Sam did love to tell him about my endless pinning and daydreaming every time Christmas was around.” a heartfelt laugh made his chest rumble, pleasant tingles filling up his entire body especially as he heard you giggle.

“Did you now? Wow. This day is full of surprises, then.” you bit your lower lip for a moment before adding “Well you what, we're gonna have a family gathering and dinner for the holidays tomorrow. I know it's on short notice but if you'd like to then... you know you're always welcome in my place and-”

“I would love to come, yes.” he breathed out almost embarrassingly fast, but your smile made it all worth it.

“Wonderful!” you grinned You don't need to bring anything, we've got everything, but if you'd wanna you can bring Miracle. And if Sam manages to make it here until tomorrow then he's more than welcome too.”

“Sure, I'll tell him. See if can be here.” he would but he already knew that Sam would do anything to give the two of you more time together so he knew he wouldn't be showing up “The real question here is: Will that aunt of yours be there?”

A beautiful laugh immediately came from your before you looked at him a bit apologetically “For a moment there I thought you'd have forgotten. Yeah, sorry, there's not way to avoid that.”

“So long as I'm not sitting right next to her on the dinner table, I think I will survive.”

“She's gonna keep her hands to herself, I'm sure. Besides-” you shrugged softly, looking up at him through your lashes “I don't think she would hit on my date too.”

“No, I don't think she would either. But in case you need to make it more obvious, kisses are allowed 24/7.” he said with an innocent shrug.

“Ah yes, about that.” you smiled, leaning up to peck his cheek “I would love to give you more, hopefully very soon. Especially in front of the Christmas tree at my own apartment afterwards, while we catch up.”

His eyes widened in surprise and you giggled before he breathed out “Gosh, I freaking love cheesy fanfics.”

[benevadeca]

SAW the new cyrano movie and wow i liked it! anyway thoughts about it under the cut as it's like the 4th adaptation i've seen of cyrano lol.

so yeah in a lot of respects i do still prefer the national theater live's version in its rap translation thing. very obvious that these are two different adaptations that focused on different aspects of the source material made for different intents.

overall it was fun, i liked it! very artsy. one of roxane's songs was like kinda weird horny but it's the u know. romantic period drama sensuality and it was like at least tastefully done so eh! makes her a more understandable character than how she appears in most versions where it just feels like she wants to be in a better book club lmao

i DO think the musical adaptation of it was like, a good translation of a historical work for a modern non-french audience. but the songs, while fun and good and artsy, were kind of still at the same time sorta? idk generically...not Hollywood but idk. like songs u hear and go "yeah this is part of a musical"

[spoilers after this]

like cyrano the movie focusing on the romance plotline and the whole societal expectations/body image thing. loved the leitmotif of like, i forget the wording but "everyone wants to be loved for who they are" basically. the parallels betw christian and cyrano's deaths were rly good!

kind of mixed feelings on both of their death's honestly? but to focus on positives the parallel between christian sort of. giving up on roxane "i only want to be loved if it's for myself, and what roxane loves isn't me" and uhhh running into bullets basically. that paralleled with cyrano's "i have given up and am dying today". like it is the extreme lack of faith and emotional low that makes them easy pickings. i def had other thoughts but they are eluding me i need to marinate them a bit more maybe

but yeah on the cons side, i do think w/ the changes they made to cyrano's death scene (him getting his epic 10 seconds of mutual love and mouth on mouth), while more uh "positive" than other versions sort of undercuts the "tragedy" title of it. missed connections, too much has happened between the beginning and where we are now, cyrano's refusal to let go of his own pride and penchant for drama to fully accept its reciprocacy.

tho on that not his "and i loved...my pride" line was raw and epic it's like yes the realization all too late that you are your own worst enemy, you might've said you loved her but it was your inability to love yourself that affected your relationships with others, made it so you could never actually have any real faith in the person you love, that it was your simultaneous idolization and denegration of her image that got in the way. etc etc etc.

but yeah ANYWAY like it's bc the focus of the movie was fully on the romance and not any of the other themes that christian kind of got a worse deal than he usually does it almost feels like. like, the scenes he got were good ofc, but how he was fully cut out of the entire finale almost and basically just a prop for said 10 seconds of happiness that don't usually occur. also im still confused on that sequencing from christian's dead body to jesus i still don't get it but another thing marinating in my mind.

this is all to say ig that nothing goes as raw as national theater live having his dead body on the floor and then his actor physically between them in the entire end scene. also like idk there could've been just a little more of a focus on the "war is hell and it is the boys who never got to grow to be anything more than boys" bit

List of things cut:

OK so they cut a LOT from the original bc the original has that "art is controlled and censored by the people in power when it should be used to fight for the people" subplot, so basically everything from that is cut. which i get bc of time constrains w/ movies compared to theater productions, and like the director being the pride and prejudice director and the entire marketing of the movie being on the romance aspect of it and not that. so yeah i get the rationale! but sad tho

tbh i dont think it even explained specifically WHY cyrano said fuck that guy to montfleury in the beginning the whole convo cyrano had w his bro abt it just centered on roxane, and the "cyrano getting into a fight in the night to save his bro" scene was also subsequently refitted

cyrano's boyz night scene where he's dramatically reinacting his fight the previous night :( like instead it just has him angstily boxing in the corner which doesn't showcase his extreme chadness. also christian's introduction as just being kind of a mouthy brat lol

degich? i can never remember or spell his name but bitchy rich, they cut out his "war is bad and it's made me a better person" redemption arc but who cares so lol. moving on <3

roxane's epic girlboss moment was cut out. SAD. and subsequently the scene w/ the baker being a recurring character was ALSO cut out. quite the loss but ig they at least showcase roxane's ability to be an active character in other scenes so not a total loss

both of cyrano's moon monologues :( sad! also the timeskip being dramatically shorter and only three years. i do think switching his gradual health decline to be A-actualy consequences from the war and B-less him refusing to stop pissing people off without accepting help from others to just full inability to take care of himself. like yes really showcase his issues and also that poverty and its consequences exists outside of an aesthetic backdrop

Favorite changes things:

there was a musical/dance number in the bakery :) we only got to see the baker in that initial scene but love him

boyz night did get cut but the christian musical number kind of fucked hard so all is forgiven actually

OK depending on the variation the way cyrano dies changes, like he gets assassinated in diff ways so in one they drop bricks on him or smth and in another a carriage runs him over. (im p sure it's the 1990?) i think they referenced the carriage running him over version bc they had post-timeskip him walking and a carriage barrel pass and him collapse as it does (like. not it running him over just these two seperate events framed together) and i was like haha...i get the reference. kinda mean but i did laugh in the theater a little i was like brooooo

OH the movie starts not w in the theater but w roxane getting ready for it! so yeah epic girlboss moments. she didn't get to be angry at the very end like she was in the national theater live modern rap version but she did get a "im angry" song around the middle of the plot so u kno. girls who get to be angry

i do admit i cried at the scene where the ensemble cast of soldier's got to sing about their loved ones and accepting that they're being sent off to die. anyway

anyway yeah! i liked it it was good but i DO think if they were gonna strip it down to its bare romance they should've had cyrano and chris kiss also tho like it's simply only fair

[batgurl1989]

Running With The Wolf Chapter Four

Summary: You and Geralt explore Novigrad, getting ready to take down the real killer

Word Count: 1850

Warnings: As always Spoilers

A/N: If you want to be added to my taglist, let me know :)

Chapter One  Chapter Two  Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five

Taglist: @rmtndew​ @princesssterek​ @djinny-djin-djin​ @cynic-spirit​ @henrynerdfan​

Chapter Four

You and Geralt searched for evidence all over the city. From the Harbour all the way to Gildorf in the northernmost part of the city, Geralt chased down any clue that might have led to the real killer. A trail of blood here. A scent to follow there. An eyewitness swearing up and down that they saw the whole thing. The pieces alone didn’t mean much. In a city like Novigrad, there were probably a couple murders a night. But when put all together, the evidence seemed to point to someone who wasn’t Dandelion.

When you brought this theory to the King of Beggars, he was willing to listen, just as you expected. When you told him you thought it was nobleman who had paid to have the spy killed, Francis nodded along, agreeing that it made sense. Every day, they received information on the rich of the city, which in turn was useful to someone for a price. The nobleman probably wanted to silence the information before it made it back the Putrid Grove.

After staying up late, Geralt and you finally had a plan. After running it past the King to get the right information about how to play it out, you found yourself shopping in Hierarch Square for a dress to wear to the wedding that night. The King had let you in on the recent whereabouts of the nobleman, and it turned out that night he would be attending the wedding of a Vegelbud, one of the prominent families in Novigrad. The wedding would be at their estate and would be attended by invite only. Luckily, the beggars had come through and had procured the invites for you and Geralt to get into the party.

You felt Geralt’s arm brushed yours as he appeared at your side while you perused the dress shop. Dress shopping was certainly not his thing, but still he had gone out to find clothes to wear to the wedding at your insistence. He couldn’t show up at the party dressed in his Witcher armour, or he would stick out like a sore thumb and blow your cover. Under his arm he had a package wrapped in brown paper, and your curiosity piqued. Your mind began to wander as you pictured him in formal attire.

“Which one are you going to get?” Geralt asked, drawing your attention back to the three dresses you had narrowed it down to. An elaborately embroidered red velvet dress with gold edges and a green and silver dress with bell sleeves were laid out in front of you on the table. Both were beautiful and within your price range. Beside them was a dress with a dark green skirt and white top with a lace up corset belt to go with it.

“That depends.” You sighed. You wished you could buy them all, but you definitely had no reason to own that many dresses. Geralt raised his eyebrows, silently encouraging you to continue. “The red one would fit more with the nobles, the green one would look amazing with my hair, but the white and green one would be more practical for a quick getaway.”

“Which do you want the most?” Geralt asked, leaning with his back to the table, his full attention on you. His golden eyes searched your face for any sign you liked one dress over the others as he crossed his arms.

You looked at him, also searching his face, trying to decide what to tell him. But instead you found yourself getting lost in those golden pools. You noticed his nostril flare and were glad to know that you affected him as much as he did you. Placing a hand on his chest, your fingertips grazing the patch of skin visible in the triangle his shirt created at his neck, you grounded yourself in him. It was the most contact you two had had in public since entering the city, and you were relishing it.

“The green and silver one.” Geralt said after clearing his throat. You blinked, as though waking from a dream, and turned to look at the dresses again. He handed you a small pouch of coin to pay for it. You started to protest, but he waved it away. “It’s Dandelion’s fault we have to go to this. The least I can do is pay for your dress.”

“He’s my friend too.” You frowned. You didn’t want Geralt thinking you couldn’t pay for your own things.

“Yes, but I am the one who always has to bail him out.” Geralt pointed to the green and silver dress when the shopkeeper came over. “The lady will be taking this one.”

“Excellent choice.” The shopkeeper smiled, taking the dress away to wrap it up. You rolled your eyes at the triumphant look on Geralt’s face.

“Fine. But I am getting the money for it from Dandelion to repay you.” You said, flicking your red hair over your shoulder, a note of finality in your voice.

“Even better.” Geralt laughed. He gave your arm a squeeze, his fingers trailing across your skin in a heated path, before leaving the store to go explore more of the outdoor market set up in the square.

You waited for the shopkeeper to come back to hand them their coin. With your package in hand, you left to go find Geralt. You scanned the market until you found him, though it wasn’t hard since he didn’t have his hood up. Hair as white as his was always easy to spot, especially when he stood taller than those around him. You took a moment to admire him from a distance before taking the steps down into the market.

When you reached him, he had a loaf of warm bread in his hand and a bag of apples. The apples were probably for the horses later. He grinned when he heard your stomach growl over the din of the market at the delicious smell of the freshly baked bread. He ripped off a chunk, passing it over to your eager hands.

“Thank you.” You said before taking a bite. You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your throat at the taste of the buttery bread on your tongue. Your eyes slid close as you savoured the bread, the warmth it gave you spreading through your body.

When you opened your eyes again, you noticed Geralt watching your every move with darkened eyes. The molten gold orbs tracked your tongue as you licked the last of the crumbs from your lips. It dawned on you that the hungry look in his eyes was for you and not the food he held in his hands. Glancing around at the people crowding the market, a blush painted your cheeks. The look on his face promised pleasure beyond what your mind could comprehend, and had your body singing with need. You were frozen in his gaze, only wanting to move towards him. You foot slid forward, bringing you closer to the heat coming from the Witcher.

“Tonight.” That single word he uttered had you gasping for breath. The moment passed when he moved to leave the market. You stood, rooted in place, for a beat longer, trying to slow your heart down.

Looking over your shoulder, you wondered if you would survive travelling with him. Not because the monsters you would inevitably face, but because Geralt might cause your heart race itself to bursting.

By the time you had yourself under control, he was out of sight. Mentally kicking yourself, you rushed to catch up. You knew Novigrad like the back of your hand, but there were so many streets and alleyways he could have ducked down, that finding him would be difficult. Looking down a few streets, you sighed. You had lost him. Figuring he could find you using his Witcher senses, you headed back to the Chameleon to change.

By the time you were changed, Geralt still hadn’t shown up. You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, double checking the dress, and making sure your hair was pinned properly in the braid crown you had painstakingly worked it into. Everything looked to be in order, and you decided to wait down in the tavern rather than up in the room alone. Maybe you could convince Zoltan to play a quick round of Gwent with you.

“Lass, you look perfectly stunning.” Zoltan’s praise met you before you had finished walking down the stairs. The Dwarf stood behind the bar as usual but was ignoring the patrons as he stared at you.

“Thank you, Zoltan.” You smiled brightly, happy to know that your efforts were not wasted. Glancing around the room, you noticed Geralt still wasn’t there. You were surprised to feel disappointment bubble up inside you. You smile must have faltered, because Zoltan abandoned his post to join you at the bottom of the stairs.

“I am sure Geralt will be here momentarily.” Zoltan said quietly, guessing at your thoughts. He gave your forearm a reassuring squeeze, gesturing for you to join him at the bar. “He probably just went to make sure everything was set.”

“And to get the horses.” Geralt’s voice sounded from behind you. Your heart leapt at the sound, flooding you with happiness and banishing the disappointment from before.

“Geralt! Late, but at least you are here.” Zoltan gave the Witcher a hard time, taking his spot behind the bar. He winked at you, and started filling orders once again for the disgruntled customers he had left a moment before.

“You look stunning.” Geralt ignored Zoltan, turning to you. His attention had you suddenly self-conscious, and you touched your hair to make sure it was still in place.

“You clean up nicely yourself.” You noticed he had changed into an embroidered black waist coat with a white linen shirt underneath. He still had on his travelling boots, but he had changed into a pair of black deerskin pants. You found yourself doing the domestic thing and straighten his collar.

“Shall we?” Geralt smirked down at you once you were done. He gestured toward the door and followed you as you left the Chameleon with a wave to Zoltan. Geralt stopped you before you could mount Marabelle, an arm around your stomach. His breath tickled the shell of your ear as he spoke. “That dress is perfect on you.”

“I’m glad you approve.” You whispered back to him, unable to say more as your mouth suddenly went dry. He growled in your ear, giving you a squeeze before regretfully letting you go.

“Tonight.” He whispered before stepping away to go mount Roach.

You were out of breath as you settled into the saddle, arranging your dress around you as you could ride. It wasn’t a far ride to the Vegelbud estate, but you would relish the cool breeze on your face. His promise had kept you on edge all day, and if he kept making it, you wouldn’t be able to concentrate on the mission ahead. The fresh air and cool breeze would do you good.

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

Carry Me Home (A Din Djarin/Reader Fic)

Summary: Din and Reader find themselves on a jungle planet hunting a bounty, but nothing goes as planned, and secrets are shared.

***Based off this line from a previous fic in this series: "Then the mysterious bounty hunter told you his name one day when you were trying to hold his femoral artery together with nothing but bacta gel and hope."

No spoilers. Set in Season 1 between Episode 6 (The Prisoner) & Episode 7 (The Reckoning)

Pairings: Din Djarin/Reader; Din Djarin/You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood, gore, & violence. Brief mentions of past slavery. 

A/N: In true Star Wars fashion, I'm just writing shit out of order lol. But the idea for this fic kept bugging me, so i just had to get it out on the page. 

You don't need to read the previous fics to understand this one, though (since the others are set in s2.) I have some more ideas for out of order stories, too, so I'll most likely be continuing this series.But let me know if you'd be interested in a fic from Din's POV! I think that could be fun, but if y'all are digging Reader POV, I'll stick to that.

And in case anyone cares, the title is taken from the lyrics of Arcade by Duncan Lawrence, which I was listening to on repeat as I wrote this. 

As always, I’ve posted this piece on Ao3, but I’ll paste the text below. 

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28763814

I’ll also include the links to the other two fics here: 

The Sea Like Glass Ch 1: Here

The Sea Like Glass Ch 2 (includes smut): Here

“Dank farrik!” you hissed as the wire in front of you sparked and sent a jolt of electricity through your already singed fingers. Not for the first time, you wished you could wear your gloves, but some of the pieces that needed repairing were too small to feel through the bulky material, so you could do nothing more than sacrifice your flesh for the cause.

Didn’t make it hurt less, though. You sucked the smarting tips into your mouth, glaring at the trashed circuit board in front of you, but the ruined hardware only crackled in response.

If you were back in Hanger 3-5 in Mos Eisley, you would have probably trashed the whole part and dug through Peli’s stock for a replacement, or gone down to the market and haggled for something newer, but you weren’t on Tatooine. You were smack dab in the middle of a jungle planetoid you couldn’t remember the name of, and it was up to you to get the Razor Crest running again on what you had available.

Which, admittedly, wasn’t a lot.

You sighed as you sat back on your haunches, using the back of your wrist to swipe at the sweat trailing down your temple. The pre-Empire ship towered over you as you dug into her innards, having pried off one of the semi-melted lower side panels to access the appropriate circuits. Your thin tank top was already drenched, and the hair sticking to the back of your neck kept giving you phantom itches. You wanted nothing more than to tie it up completely, but you always felt naked when your nape was exposed. You weren’t necessarily ashamed of the scar there, or the past connected to it, since it wasn’t your fault you were born into shackles, but… still. It was a… personal story to tell, and you weren’t sure you were ready to share it with your new boss.

Well, “new” was relative. You’d been employed on the Razor Crest for several months now, but you didn’t know much more about the Mandalorian than you did when you’d first set foot onto his ship. You knew he was a bounty hunter, from a race of legendary warriors. You knew he had a partially sordid, and dangerous, past if your encounter with Ran and his crew of mercenaries was any indication. You knew the green baby was his ward, or foundling as he called it, and Mando was tasked with returning the little guy to his people. And you knew his Creed forbid him from removing his helmet.

That was about it. The Mandalorian didn’t talk much, but it didn’t particularly bother you. You’d always been a quieter person, and after years of Peli’s constant chattering, you were kind of relieved for the silence.

Most of the time, anyway.

“How’s it looking?”

You gasped in alarm, jolting yourself off balance and falling back onto your ass in the dirt.

“Maker, Mando,” you panted as you craned your neck back to stare up at the bounty hunter. “What have I told you about sneaking up on me when I’m working on electrics?”

The impervious mask of the Mandalorian stared down at you silently, blotting out the sweltering sun and providing you a modicum of relief. A moment passed, then two, and you shifted uneasily under his unblinking gaze.

“I thought you heard me approach,” he said finally, his modulated voice flat and unaffected, but he didn’t move from where he was looming over you.

“Well, I didn’t,” you grumbled as you flopped your head forward and popped your neck, stretching your legs out in the dirt.

The tight leggings you wore ended not too far past your knees, so your shins were streaked with the red soil of this planetoid. The dirt didn’t bother you, but the heat sure did. It was different than Tatooine’s dry desert. This heat was oppressive, stifling, almost cloying, and every time you took a deep breath, a small part of your brain panicked, images of drowning flashing through your mind even though you knew it was irrational. You were just grateful your clothes didn’t look a fraction as hot as the Mandalorian’s all black get-up and what had to be twenty-five kilos of armor.

“So,” the bounty hunter said after a few more moments of silence, interrupted only by the call of exotic birds in the canopy, “how are things looking?”

“Honestly?” you sighed as you pushed yourself off the ground, dusting the red dirt off your hands but not even bothering with your pants. “Not good. The bounty’s guns must have grazed us when we were still outside orbit, and entering the atmosphere certainly didn’t help matters. Some of the side paneling has been melted beyond repair, and a lot of the wiring is fried, too.”

“Can you get it flying?” Mando asked, crossing his arms over his chest and making his silhouette all the more imposing. The sun glinted off his silver beskar, and you squinted in the glare.

“Maybe.” You pursed your lips and averted your gaze, turning back to stare at the charred panels and sparking wires. Sweat trickled down your neck, and you reached back to cup your nape, feeling the bounty hunter’s eyes on you.

“Didn’t know I was paying you for maybes.”

“You’re not paying me at all if you can’t even catch that quarry,” you snorted before your brain could catch up to your mouth.

You froze when the words finally registered, nails digging into the back of your neck. Stupid. Your mouth always did get the better of you. You used to mouth-off to your former owner until he backhanded you into silence, and now you’re starting shit with a bounty hunter you’d seen kill half a dozen men in just as many seconds.

Stupid.

You waited for Mando to say something, staring at the Razor Crest without even seeing it, and even if you didn’t really believe he’d hurt you for a simple off-handed comment, your body didn’t get the message. Muscle memory was a hard thing to forget, and every fiber in you braced for the blow.

The birds chittered in the towering blue-green canopy above your head as sweat poured from every single one of your pores, and you were just about to come out of your skin when the Mandalorian finally spoke.

“Well, to catch the quarry, I need my ship to fly,” he said, and when you chanced a glance over your shoulder, you discovered he’d somehow moved further away from you, like he took several steps back.

Was he… giving you space?

His tone was still flat, but after several months spent in close proximity with the bounty hunter, you were now able to parse out several different minor inflections in his modulated voice. You were by no means an expert, but you knew for a fact he didn’t sound angry in this moment. When he was angry, his voice took on a softer, menacing quality. The few times you’d heard it—thankfully never directed at you—every hair on your body stood on end, and the lizard part of your brain had screamed to run and not stop running until you were in a completely different star system.

This wasn’t anger. This was… something else. You almost wanted to say… amusement, but that would have been crazy.

Still, the tension bled out of your shoulders like sand through a sieve, and you dropped your arms as you turned to face the Mandalorian fully again.

“Alright, this is the best I can do,” you said. “I can get her flying again, I think I can even get her shielded enough to withstand leaving the atmosphere when we’re done here, but it’s gonna take some time.”

“How much time?” he asked.

You glanced over your shoulder again at the damage, did some calculations in your head, and added some padding to give yourself a margin for error. Then you turned back to the bounty hunter.

“At least two days,” you replied, confident in your abilities. “Anything less, and we risk blowing ourselves to the Inner Core and back when I go to start her up.”

“Hmm.” Mando stared at you for a moment and then shifted to gaze into the jungle. “The bounty will most likely be off planet by then.”

“I don’t think so,” you contradicted him, and your heart actually skipped a beat when the T of his visor turned to look at you. There was something nerve-wracking about staring into the dark, reflective glass, but then you noticed your red-streaked appearance, and you cringed self-consciously as you looked away.

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

“Because,” you started, stooping down to pick up the tablet beside your tool bag, “when I first came out here and saw the damage, I was afraid we’d end up in this situation. But then I remembered that the quarry’s ship took more damage than we did in our little space battle. I know for a fact we landed at least one solid hit, I saw it myself.”

“And?”

“Well,” you said as you tapped at the screen, “given the make and model of his vessel, and the location of where we struck the ship, I was able to deduce that we most likely damaged his engines. If his engines are damaged, then there is a maximum distance he could have gone before he would have been forced to land, or even crash landed. With all this information, plus the fact that I knew the general location of where we lost visual of him when we entered the atmosphere, I’ve estimated the quarry can’t be farther than five klicks from our current coordinates. And with his entry trajectory, he’s most likely in this triangulated area three and a half klicks to the west, which should be easily reachable on foot.”

You turned the map on the tablet to face the Mandalorian, and he stepped forward to take the device from you. His gloved fingers brushed across your singed ones, remnant electricity shooting through your veins, and you stifled a flinch as you dropped your arm.

Mando studied the map for a long moment, cocking his head and zooming in to get a better look. You shifted uneasily in the silence, scuffing the tip of your boot into the red soil, but then the bounty hunter finally looked back up at you.

“When did you have time to do this?” he asked, and he actually sounded… impressed. “You were out here for less than ten minutes after we landed.”

“It wasn’t that hard.” You shrugged as your cheeks flushed with heat, but you blamed the sweltering sun overhead and the soup-like air.

“I didn’t realize you were so good with numbers,” he said, his helmet staring directly at you.

“Numbers are easy,” you replied, shrugging again as you raised your hand to chew nervously on your nails, but you stopped yourself when you saw the crimson dirt still caked on your skin. “They don’t lie, once you understand the rules.”

“Did Peli teach you how to do this?” he inquired, and you were surprised by all these questions. Most of the time, the bounty hunter asked you one-or-two-word questions and expected one-or-two-word answers. You couldn’t figure out why this situation was any different, but you found yourself responding anyway.

“Partially,” you explained, and you wondered how you could phrase your answer to be vague but satisfactory. “She… taught me a lot of the specifics for bigger jobs like ships and larger machines, but I’ve always been good at numbers and tinkering.”

That seemed good enough. You didn’t think it was relevant that you first started tinkering because your former owner used to lock you in his shop’s basement with broken droids when you misbehaved, and putting the discarded machines back together kept you from going crazy when your punishments lasted days. You also didn’t think it relevant that when your former owner found out and realized he could profit off your skills, you fine-tuned your abilities to become indispensable. The bastard still hit you occasionally, and his other slaves weren’t treated any better, but you had to admit, him locking you in the basement all those years had saved your life. If you hadn’t cultivated the skills you had, Peli wouldn’t have bought you at auction when the bastard bit the sand, and she wouldn’t have dug out your transmitter chip and effectively freed you the moment you walked into Hanger 3-5. The tiny woman had said she needed an apprentice, not a slave, and so that was what you became. Now, you were a mechanic in your own right, and a damn good one if you did say so yourself. Mando just didn’t need to know how you’d gotten there.

The bounty hunter seemed to think the same thing, too, because he nodded once before he looked back at the tablet.

“This is good work,” he said, and something in your chest preened at his words before you squashed it down. “If these calculations are correct—”

“They are,” you interjected before you could stop yourself.

“Then I think I can set out on foot, find the quarry, and bring him back tomorrow just as you’re finishing the repairs,” Mando went on, and he glanced up at you again. “Does that time frame sound right to you?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “Should work for me, but it could take you a little longer. I’m unfamiliar with this terrain, and there are too many other variables, like jungle beasts or indigenous species, for me to be sure.”

“The terrain won’t be a problem,” the Mandalorian said as he handed you the tablet back. “And neither will any beasts or natives.”

You cocked an eyebrow at the bounty hunter but didn’t contradict his confidence. “Alright. Then, yes, I should have the ship up and running by the time you get back. Are you leaving now?”

“Once I grab some supplies,” Mando replied before he paused and seemed to consider you. “Will you be… okay until I return?”

It was a familiar question, albeit still surprising. The Mandalorian was a stoic, usually silent warrior, literally a wall of beskar steel. You’d seen him kill men as easy as breathing, and he threw each bounty into carbonite without an ounce of remorse.

And yet, every time he had to leave the ship alone, he asked you if you would be alright until he got back. The question and concern would have made no sense… if you hadn’t seen the bounty hunter interact with his foundling. He tried to hide it, but he treated the little green baby so gently you knew there had to be a warm, beating heart beneath all that beskar. You just never expected any tenderness to be aimed at you, so it drew you up short every time.

“Yeah.” You smiled. “I’ll be fine. Besides—”

You trailed off as you felt something touch your lower leg, and when you looked down, big brown eyes set in a little green face blinked back up at you. Then little green hands lifted in your direction, and you laughed as you swooped down, picked him up, and set him on your hip.

“Besides,” you continued, still chuckling as you booped the child on the nose and left a smudge of red dirt behind, “I’ll have this little guy to keep me company. Right, kid?”

The baby cooed and reached out, his three tiny fingers settling on the bridge of your nose as he tried to boop you back. When he withdrew his hand, though, his skin was dyed black.

“Huh?” You frowned at the slick ooze on his fingers, your eyes crossing as you tried to bring his hand into focus. “What’s on your hand there, bud?”

“It’s grease,” Mando supplied.

“What?” you asked as you turned your head to the bounty hunter.

“Grease,” he repeated, and he touched the intersection on the glass T of his visor, right over where the bridge of his nose would sit. “You’ve got some just there.”

“Oh.” You blushed, your hand flying up to cover your face. Not only were you covered in dirt and sweat, but grease now, too. Typical. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought you knew,” the Mandalorian said, but there was that faint undercurrent in his voice that you were sure was amusement now. “Don’t you have any rags?”

“I did,” you muttered as you tried to rub at your face with your shoulder, “but I had to throw most of them out after that oil leak we had on the moon we left about a week ago. It’s fine. I’m already a mess anyhow, and I’m just going to get dirtier as I fix up the ship.”

Mando seemed to stare at you intensely for a moment, and you had the feeling he was taking in just how filthy your clothes were. You could read nothing from his body language, though, and since he wasn’t speaking, there was nothing to infer from his voice, either. Embarrassed heat crawled up your neck, and you suddenly felt naked in your tank top and leggings. You shifted the child in your arms a little to bring him more in front of you and block more of you from view, but the effort was useless because Mando was abruptly spinning on heel and marching toward the ship’s ramp.

“I’m going to gather supplies,” he said gruffly over his shoulder. “Don’t let the kid touch any of the wires.”

And then he was gone, his cape flapping behind him as he disappeared into the bowels of the Razor Crest.

“Okay, bye,” you muttered, and you frowned after him before looking down at the kid and lowering your voice. “Your dad’s a little weird, you know that?”

The child blinked up at you and then seemed to nod his head in solemn agreement.

You laughed and kissed the top of his head even though you knew you were toeing a dangerous line here. You knew you were just the ship mechanic, the hired help, but you and the foundling had spent a lot of time together when the Mandalorian was out hunting bounties, and you couldn’t help loving the adorable baby like he was your own. He was mischievous and always looking to put things in his mouth that he shouldn’t, but something about his presence was calming, soothing. Plus, those big brown eyes were to die for. You weren’t even that surprised the kid had managed to wiggle his way under Mando’s beskar. It had only been a few months, but you knew without a shadow of a doubt that if it came down to it, you would give your life to save this child.

Which was wildly inappropriate, but you chose to ignore that fact.

“It’s just gonna be the two of us again for a bit, little man,” you told the foundling, turning back to face the Razor Crest. “But we’re gonna have some fun, yeah? Do you want to help me fix up the ship?”

The child gurgled into your ear and patted your cheek, which you took as an affirmative.

“Alright,” you laughed as you set him on a large root right next to your tool bag. You dug around until you found a tool you would need eventually, and then you handed it to the kid. “Here, hold this until I need it, okay? But don’t put it in your mouth.”

The foundling seemed to pout at that last bit, but he dutifully wrapped his three little fingers around the tool and held it firmly.

“Thank you.” You smiled. Then you turned back to the ship, put your hands on your hips, and furrowed your brow. “Now, where to start?”

You spent the next ten minutes assessing what was completely ruined, what was salvageable, and what you had on hand that wasn’t necessary and could possibly be retrofitted to fix the damage. The skeletal beginnings of a plan were already forming in your mind by the time the Mandalorian was clomping down the ramp again. You set down the tablet you’d been tapping away at and picked up the child once more, and the foundling babbled as he waved around the tool he was still holding.

“Be careful with that,” you chuckled, and you craned your head back to avoid getting smacked in the temple. “I’ll need it soon, so keep holding onto it.”

The child cooed and then shifted to wave the tool at the bounty hunter as he approached.

“Putting the kid to work now?” Mando asked as he stopped a few feet away. The crescent-shaped hilt of his favored Amban rifle jutted out over his left shoulder, and a small bag was slung over his right, probably filled with spare ammo, cuffs for the bounty, and possibly some food. You’d never personally seen the Mandalorian eat, though, and a part of you was convinced he didn’t, even if you rationally knew that wasn’t possible.

“Nah, I’m just teaching him a thing or two,” you said as you settled the foundling more soundly on your hip. “You’re never too young to learn something new, and on the plus side, being my little helper keeps him out of trouble. For the most part, anyway.”

“Thank you for watching him,” the bounty hunter said, tilting his visor down minutely to stare at the child, who grinned a gummy grin and waved the silver tool again. “I know it isn’t exactly what I hired you for—”

“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you glanced down to smile at the kid. “He’s pretty good company, and some of Peli’s droids have given me more trouble than he does. It’s really no problem.”

“Well, regardless,” Mando replied as his visor returned to studying you. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You nodded, flushing again under his scrutiny. Then you cleared your throat and gestured at the bag on his back. “All ready?”

“Yes,” the bounty hunter said. “Days are longer here, but the sun will set eventually, and I want to try and find the quarry before moonrise. If all goes well, I should be back tomorrow before sunset.”

“Good luck, then,” you told him, and you lifted your chin with confidence. “I should have the ship ready when you return.”

“Thank you.” He inclined his helmet.

The baby suddenly burst out babbling something, and you glanced down to see him reaching out with his free hand toward the Mandalorian. His three little fingers made grabby motions, and the bounty hunter sighed.

“Listen to her while I’m gone, okay?” Mando murmured as he stepped closer into your personal bubble and held out his finger for the foundling to latch on to.

The child cooed, swinging the Mandalorian’s finger from side to side, and the breath stilled in your lungs as the bounty hunter’s glove brushed the edge of your mouth. You smelled something like leather and smoke, probably blaster residue, but then Mando was stepping back again, and the baby was forced to drop his finger.

“Keep alert,” he addressed you as he adjusted the pack on his shoulder. “We’re pretty far from any civilization out here, so I don’t think you should encounter anyone, but don’t assume you’re safe. And get inside the ship once the sun sets. The jungle will be more dangerous at night. I’ll have my comlink on me, but it’s affected by proximity, so you most likely won’t be able to contact me until I’m on my way back.”

“Don’t worry, Mando,” you said, and you patted the blaster he’d given you that was almost permanently attached to your hip. “I can defend myself if need be, and I have no desire to be caught outside after dark. We’ll be fine.”

“I know,” he replied, but you weren’t sure if he was trying to convince you or himself. Either way, he seemed to compose himself because he nodded once. “I’ll be back soon.”

“We’ll keep a weather eye on the horizon.” You smiled. “Try not to die of heat stroke.”

“I’ll try my best,” he said dryly, but after one more moment of staring at you and the foundling, he turned on heel and marched off into the jungle without another word. The multi-colored trees swallowed him almost instantly, and suddenly you were alone.

The child cooed sadly as he stared after the Mandalorian, and he turned his big brown eyes on you as if to say, Where’d he go?

“Don’t worry, bud,” you said, turning back to the ship. “He’ll be fine and back before you know it. Now, let’s take a look at those power converters, shall we?”

You set the foundling down beside your tool bag again, but you couldn’t help glancing over your shoulder in the direction the bounty hunter had disappeared in.

He’ll be fine and back before you know it, you repeated silently to yourself.

~~~~~

Two days later, you were starting to doubt the validity of your statements.

The sun had set and risen twice, and there was still no sign of Mando. Now, the celestial orb was steadily making its way across the horizon for the third time, and you sat on the ramp of the ship and glared up at the chattering canopy.

The child was down for a nap in the hammock the Mandalorian had set up in his own bunk, and your eyes burned with a similar exhaustion, but the anxiety slowly mounting in you made it impossible to sleep. The past two days had passed uneventfully. You’d spent every hour of sunlight you had at your disposal patching together the ship, and since days were longer on this planetoid, you estimated you’d spent over seventy-two hours getting the Razor Crest in working order again.

And you’d done it. It wasn’t perfect, but the ship could fly, and you were ninety-eight percent certain it would withstand leaving the atmosphere.

Now, all that was missing was the Mandalorian and his bounty.

“Dank farrik, Mando,” you grumbled under your breath as you dragged your singed, cut-up, and bandaged fingers through your hair. “Where the Maker are you?”

The chittering birds and critters in the underbrush didn’t have an answer for you, and you huffed out an aggravated breath as another bead of sweat dripped into your eyes.

By your estimate, there were about six hours left before the sun set again. Part of you, the illogical, irrational part, wanted to charge into the jungle in search of the Mandalorian. You had a general direction and location he should be in. Maybe you could find him.

But the rational side of your brain thankfully pointed out all the problems with that plan. For one, leaving the ship unattended was dangerous. You hadn’t seen anyone in the past two days, but that didn’t mean you were alone in the jungle, and now that the ship could fly again, someone could potentially walk right in and steal the vessel if you weren’t here to stop them.

Then there was the issue of the foundling. Sometimes, Mando took you and the kid along with him when he was hunting a bounty in a more populated area, but he was always there to protect the two of you if something went wrong. What happened if you brought the child with you into the jungle and you couldn’t protect him? And you couldn’t exactly leave him behind. Someone could steal both the child and the Razor Crest in that scenario.

The most compelling reason to stay with the ship, though, was Mando himself. Before he left, he’d confidently declared that neither the jungle itself nor the beasts or peoples therein would pose any problem for him. If he was wrong, and these things had posed a problem for the bounty hunter, what luck did you have of doing something he could not?

Anddddd that’s where the irrational side of you chimed in again with, Well, if he did run into an issue, he could need your help, so you should go look for him.

It was a vicious cycle, and your head was pounding with how fast it was running in circles.

You groaned as you dropped your face into your hands, digging the heels of your palms into your eye sockets.

“Fine,” you sighed into the darkness. “I’ll give him until morning.”

If the Mandalorian hadn’t returned by then, you’d start up the ship and fly over the area you’d triangulated for him. If you couldn’t find him from the air… well, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

~~~~~

You huffed in irritation as you tossed and turned in Mando’s bunk that night. You turned one way, rolled another, but then you found yourself with your nose buried in his pillow, and you instantly flipped back over, face hot with embarrassment even though it was dark and you were practically alone. You weren’t sure if he slept with his helmet on when he was alone in the closed confines of the bunk, but either way, the small space smelled of him intensely. You tried not to put words to his scent, told yourself it was inappropriate and he was your boss, a Mandalorian to boot, and you had no room or right to think of him in any way other than strictly professional… but that apparently didn’t work because you knew he smelled like the cheap soap from the fresher, and the rest was a blend of smoke, leather, and metal, the degrees of which varied by the day and yet was still always uniquely him.

You knew you were playing a losing game even just having these thoughts, but you somehow couldn’t help yourself, couldn’t stop yourself. Ever since Mando stepped between you and Ran’s crew all those months ago, blocking you with his body, a startling, protective rage in every inch of his armored silhouette, this little voice had come to life in the back of your head and wouldn’t shut the kriff up.

What if? the little voice whispered. What if it’s not just you having these thoughts? What if you could have him in more than just your dreams and fantasies in the darkness of this bunk?

Usually, you shoved the voice into the deep, dark recesses of your thoughts and recited equations until it grew quiet. You knew that was nothing but wishful thinking at best and delusion at worst. The Mandalorian was just that: a warrior closed off from the world by a shell of silver beskar. He cared for the foundling, yes, but that was entirely different and bore no correlation to the bounty hunter’s relationship with you. There was little he could possibly want from a former slave turned mechanic, aside from your skills, of course, so you clenched your eyes closed and tried to take shallow breaths through your mouth, but nothing you did could get his scent out of your nose, your memory.

You sighed for the umpteenth time and rolled to face the wall of the bunk.

When the bounty hunter was on the ship, the two of you usually slept in shifts so you could share the bunk, though sometimes the Mandalorian slept upright in the cockpit. It had been his idea originally. You’d been fine with a thin sleeping mat on the floor of the cargo bay, but he’d insisted in his strange, stoic, nonchalant way. So, you shared, and when it was just you and the kid on the ship, the two of you had the run of the place.

The child was currently in the hammock above your head, but you were pretty sure he wasn’t asleep, either. Every so often, he’d gurgle or make some other noise, and more than once you peeked up to find big brown eyes staring down at you in the dimness. You wondered if he could sense your anxiety, and you shifted so you could glare past your feet, out of the bunk, and at the closed ramp door.

You wanted to be angry with Mando, but by the time the sun set a few hours ago, you’d moved past that anger and straight into worry. The bounty hunter had never been gone this long before without contact, and your gut told you something was wrong and wouldn’t let you sleep. You wished you could blame your insomnia completely on your concern, but sadly, that wasn’t the case.

As if on cue, a sudden, piercing shriek echoed through the ship, and all the muscles in your body locked up on reflex.

The child gasped and made a worried noise as he poked his head over the edge of his hammock and stared down at you, and you tried to plaster on a fake, reassuring smile.

“It’s alright,” you murmured, reaching up to gently rock the foundling. “The ship’s closed and locked up. They can’t get us in here.”

The baby made an unconvinced sound, but he settled back into his bed without any further argument.

You sighed as you continued to rock the child, and you did your best not to flinch when another high-pitched screech sounded outside the ship.

You weren’t entirely sure what “they” were, but you knew they were nocturnal and carnivorous. And hungry. The past two mornings, you’d found bloody animal remains torn to bits and strewn along the edges of the clearing the Razor Crest was parked in like gory, crimson confetti. You’d kept the child practically glued to your side during the days because of this, but nothing ever attacked you during the day. They just circled the ship incessantly at night, howling and screeching and keeping you from finding a moment’s peace or rest. They hadn’t outright attacked the ship yet, but you were ready for it, your borrowed blaster a cold and heavy weight tucked under your pillow.

Reaching for it now, you curled your fingers around the familiar hilt and tried to block out the crescendoing, bloodthirsty shrieks of the mysterious jungle beasts.

You didn’t know how or when, but you must have dozed off at some point because all of the sudden, you jolted awake with a panicked gasp.

The bunk was dark and close around you, but since you’d left the door open at your feet, it wasn’t claustrophobic. Your vision was still blurry with sleep, so you swiped at your eyes with the back of your left wrist as you scrambled into a seated position. In your right hand you grasped the blaster, and you pointed it blindly in front of you, toward the rear of the ship.

You couldn’t remember what had woken you up, but it had been something. Your heart pounded a frantic tattoo into the underside of your ribcage, your arm shaking minutely with adrenaline. The ramp was still closed in front of you, so it hadn’t been Mando opening the door and returning. You squinted in the darkness but couldn’t see anything beyond shadows and vague shapes in pale, muted moonlight. It must have still been night, then.

You strained your ears, listening for the howling, but it was quiet. Suspiciously quiet. The jungle beasts usually didn’t go silent until right before dawn, but it was dark enough in the ship that you estimated it was still the middle of the night.

Where had they gone?

Your heart rose up into your throat, sweat beading at every one of your pores, and your mouth was so dry that your throat clicked when you swallowed.

The child made a noise of inquiry above you, barely louder than a breath, but it still made you jump all the same. Your gaze darted upward to find brown eyes staring down at you, but they were wide in an alarmed sort of way. One three-fingered hand poked over the edge of the hammock, making grabby motions at you, and the noise he made this time was more urgent, louder.

Had he heard something, too?

“What is it, little guy?” you whispered, reaching up with your free hand and awkwardly grappling him from his sling-bed.

He tumbled gently into your lap with a soft “oof,” but almost immediately he was standing up, turning around, and frantically patting at your cheek.

“What?” you asked with a frown.

He babbled and continued to tap the side of your face, and his noises grew increasingly distressed until he was grunting with frustration.

Then his tiny palm actually slapped down right across your ear canal so hard that both of your ears rang, and you hissed as you jerked your head back.

“Kriff, what was that fo—” you started to ask, but another hiss cut you off, and this one wasn’t from you.

Your heart stuttered, eyes skipping over the child’s head and out into the cargo bay, and your right hand tightened around the blaster you’d lowered to your side.

But there was nothing there. Nothing moved in the shadowy ship beyond you, and you frowned, thinking your mind was playing tricks on your startled and sleep-addled mind, but then the hiss came again.

And this time, you recognized it.

“Oh, pfassk!” you cursed as you craned around and shoved your hand under the pillow. Your fingers scrambled wildly across the sheet but encountered nothing, and you growled in aggravation, shifting the child off your lap and coming onto your hands and knees. You tossed the pillow over your shoulder in a fit of frustration, and your right hand slapped at the wall around your head until the bunk light came on.

You squinted in the flood of harsh light, the child gurgling behind you, but when your vision cleared, you spotted the thumb-sized comlink off the edge of the cot, shoved up into the far corner of the bunk. You lunged forward and wrapped your fingers around the small device, and the words were falling out of your mouth before you were even sure you had hit the button.

“Mando?” you called into the comlink, cringing when your loud voice echoed back to you in the close confines of the bunk. “Mando, can you hear me?”

Mild static crackled back for a moment as you huddled around the tiny communicator, but then a louder burst of static—the hiss from earlier—exploded to life.

And you were sure you heard Mando’s voice in there.

“Mando!” you shouted as you heart did its best imitation of a speeder, and you cupped both hands around the comlink like that would help him hear you better. “Mando, it’s me! I’m here. Can you hear me?”

Another burst of static. Then…

Mando yelled your name, clear as day, followed by a scream of what sounded like “help” and a chorus of familiar howling, and your stomach bottomed out inside of you.

“Mando!” You were gripping the communicator so hard you were afraid you were going to break it. “Mando, where are you? What’s wrong?”

He didn’t respond. You sat there frozen for a full minute, ears straining to the point of ringing, but only quiet static crackled back at you.

“Dank farrik!” you cursed, punching the side of your fist into the bunk wall.

The child cooed at you, brown eyes big with concern, and he put his tiny hand on your knee as you raked a shaking hand through your hair.

Your chest heaved up and down as you fought for breath, your mind spinning off into a million directions at once.

Mando was in trouble. Mando needed your help. He was fighting jungle beasts, and he was far enough away that you couldn’t hear the shrieking with your own ears, but close enough that he could partially reach you over the comlink. You had to do something. You had to go help him.

But what about the child? What about the ship? You couldn’t take the Razor Crest. It was pitch black outside, and you wouldn’t be able to see Mando below the thick, dark canopy. You had to go on foot.

And you had to take the kid with you.

“Come on,” you said as you tucked the communicator into your pocket, grabbed the foundling and blaster, and scooted to the edge of the bunk. Your boots were on the ground below you, and you shoved your feet in them blindly, tying the laces in three deft movements.

Then you were on your feet, turning on the cargo lights, and jogging the child over to his floating silver carrier. You grabbed the spare remote on top of it, pressing the button and watching the top slide open with a hiss. Then you set the foundling down inside of it, and in the same motion you were tucking the remote into your pocket, turning on heel, and striding for the armory.

Another button press, followed by the hiss of hydraulics, and you were left staring at several walls of guns and weaponry. Some of them you knew. Mando had even taught you how to shoot a few, but those were typically smaller blasters.

And based on those howling screeches, you needed something with more of a kick.

Your eyes skipped over the blaster pistols since you already had the one on your hip, and after a moment’s indecision, your gaze settled on a midsized rifle you’d shot once before. You hadn’t been very good at it, only hit four of the ten targets Mando set out, and you remember it being very heavy.

But it was better than nothing, and you needed something to fight back against the dark jungle.

So, you took the rifle down and looped it around your shoulder, pursing your lips as the strap dug into your skin. You spent a moment checking the power cell and gas canister, and even though both were full, you still stuck a few spares into a belt that you wrapped around your hips. You also added a few grenades to your arsenal, both explosive and ones set to stun, plus a pair of Mando’s vibroknives, as a last defense measure. If you were being honest, if the rifle and grenades failed you, you probably wouldn’t live long enough to use the knives, but it made you feel better to clip their sheaths unto your belt.

The rifle and belt weighed you down with an extra five to six kilos, but you had lugged far heavier burdens through Tatooine’s desert, so you knew you could handle it.

The last two things you grabbed were the head lamp you typically wore when working under or inside ships and the cuff you’d programmed to work the twin lights—along with a variety of other tasks aboard the Razor Crest—resting at each of your temples. The cuff was a haphazard creation of yours made of old leather, metal, and glass, but it worked and was comfortable, which was all that mattered. It also had a small magnetic slot that was specifically meant for the remote of the foundling’s floating carrier, so you fished that out of your pocket and felt it snap into place with a satisfying click.

You were armed and ready now. All you had to do was move.

“Mando,” you said as you stuck the comlink in your ear and synced it to your cuff, which had a built-in frequency booster. You were already moving toward the ramp, tapping at your wrist and listening to the foundling’s carrier humming after you. The rifle felt heavy as you maneuvered it into your slick palms, and your heart hammered a war song in your ears. “Mando, I’m coming for you. Just hold on, okay?”

Static crackled in your ear, and your chest began to heave up and down as adrenaline flooded through you.

“Okay, little man, you’re going to take a nap, alright?” you said as you looked down at the child in his pod, your voice shaking even though you tried to stop it. “And when you wake up, your dad will be back with us.”

He cooed up at you with a fearful expression on his face, but you only spared a moment to press a kiss to his head before you were tapping at your wrist again. The lid of the pod started to hiss close as the ramp of the ship began to clank open, and you slid your finger onto the rifle’s trigger as the door slowly lowered before you.

The ramp finally thudded to the jungle floor, and you took a moment to stare out into the foreboding darkness. The moon was pale and wan in the purple-tinted sky, and all you could see were shadows along the edges of the clearing. Your eyes darted back and forth, every muscle in your body locked and braced for an attack, but nothing happened. Nothing moved save the indigo clouds over head, and the only sound you heard was the muted chirps and hums of insects.

“Okay, come on, quit stalling,” you muttered to yourself even though your heart felt like it was about to roll off your tongue. “Mando doesn’t have time for this.”

At the sound of his name—or at least, the only name you had ever known the bounty hunter by—some of the fear inside you vanished, and you were suddenly jogging down the ramp without further thought. The child’s carrier trailed after you quietly, and you jabbed at your wrist to close and lock up the Razor Crest.

You spared half a glance over your shoulder to make sure the ramp was secured, and then you looked down at your cuff. Mando’s comlink had a built in GPS transmitter, but its range was limited. However, if he was close enough to briefly contact you…

A dot flickered in and out on the grungy screen on your wrist, and you spun in a circle to figure out which direction had the strongest connection. The dot flared brightly when you angled toward the west, and you started running before you even had a plan.

You crashed through the underbrush with the child’s pod hot on your heels, and the thick, humid air sawed in and out of your heaving lungs as you gasped for breath. The lights at your temples provided enough illumination to see several steps ahead of you but not much else, and you tripped and careened over root and vine as you tried not to lose your grip on the rifle.

The good news was the dot on your read-out was no longer flickering, and it was now a strong red point about a kilometer ahead of you.

The bad news?

The jungle was no longer quiet around you.

As your feet pounded into the red soil and carried you forward, static crackled loudly in your ear, and the howling returned, faint at first but growing closer. Shivers wracked your sweat-slicked spine, and every fiber of your being was screaming to run the other way.

But you couldn’t. Because now you could hear Mando grunting and shouting over the comlink, clearer and clearer with each step, and as you vaulted over a protruding root in your path, you distinctly heard a roar of rage directly ahead of you.

You would have shouted his name if there was any breath left in your lungs, but instead you just lowered your head and sprinted as fast as you could.

The howling was nearly deafening now, echoing all around you, seeming to come from every shadow in the jungle. Your ears rang with the soul-piercing shrieks, and the cacophony was so disorienting, you tripped over your own feet and crashed into the dirt.

“Kriff!” you gasped, your knees and palms stinging as you skidded to a halt. Dots danced in front of your eyes as you panted harshly, and the rifle knocked painfully against your sternum.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the child’s pod come to a stop several feet away, the silver orb glinting in the pale moonlight barely filtering through the canopy.

Then you saw something else shift in the shadows behind the floating carrier.

At first, you thought it was your swimming vision, but then the weak lights of your headlamp reflected off several glinting eyes, and the breath stalled in your lungs.

A guttural, wet growl echoed out of the bushes beyond the foundling’s pod, and in the next instant the beast was lunging forward, vaulting over the carrier in one bound.

You yelped as you scrambled backward, fumbling for the rifle’s trigger, and you got the barrel up just in time to block a bifurcated jaw of gnashing fangs. The beast let out a piercing shriek as it snapped at your face, and the familiar sound nearly popped your eardrum at this proximity, but the pain barely even registered as you wedged your legs up under the creature’s chest and heaved it off you.

The beast let out a high-pitched yip as it smacked into a tree trunk, but you didn’t give it the chance to regain its feet. In one swift movement, you brought the rifle up, sighted down the barrel, and pulled the trigger.

The blaster must have been set on full-auto because a continuous stream of energy screamed out of the weapon, and the barrel jerked upward with the recoil. Bolts of energy shredded through the vines and branches overhead, and some kind of bat-bird creature screeched as it dove out of the canopy and swooped over you. It thankfully wasn’t trying to attack, merely flee, and the avian-beast cawed angrily as it disappeared into the jungle.

“P-Pfassk,” you panted, your voice as jittery as your racing pulse. Still, you scrambled to your feet, with the smoking rifle held tight in your shaking grasp, and you stared wide-eyed at the corpse of the beast that had attacked you.

The thing was almost two meters long, and six disjointed looking limbs jutted out from underneath it. Your would-be-killer looked vaguely canine yet also insect-like, with its long snout and what looked like scaled plates along its spine. The combination made your stomach churn. The blaster had carved smoldering holes into most of the creature’s flesh, but the uncharred remains were blackish-purple, mottled with spots of blue and green that matched the jungle’s underbrush. The beast was entirely hairless and slick-looking like an oil spill, and its bifurcated maw hung open to reveal rows of rotted black fangs. Two pairs of pale white eyes stared blindly up at the dark sky, and purplish blood seeped out around the carcass to stain the jungle floor.

Bile rose in your throat, but before you could even process your fear, terror, and revulsion, a very human sounding scream echoed through the dark night, and you whipped your head in the direction it had come from.

“Mando,” you breathed, and you spared the dead beast one last glance before you took off running again, every sense on high alert.

You didn’t dare blink as you crashed through the underbrush, and you pushed your aching limbs as fast as they would go. The din of snarling and howling was so loud now it was rattling your teeth, and all of the sudden you were stumbling out of the thick tree line and into a small clearing.

A clearing riddled with bodies, both living and dead.

Your brain stuttered as it tried to assess the scene before you. The canopy overhead was broken in a perfect circle, so the moonlight here was strong and bright after the deep shadows of the jungle, and it illuminated everything perfectly. The Mandalorian stood in the center of the carnage, half collapsed against a rotten log twice as tall as he was. Carcasses of the canine-like beasts were piled up in mounds around the clearing, some shot but some charred into blackened skeletons, and the stench of burnt flesh invaded your nose and sat heavy on the back of your tongue.

For every dead beast, though, there were two more still snarling, and boy, were they pissed.

The pack of creatures prowled in a semi-circle before the bounty hunter, all their attention centered on him, and they growled and snapped their bifurcated jaws in his direction. They didn’t seem to want to attack him head on, and a moment later you saw why.

One of the beasts must have reached its breaking point, because with the same piercing shriek that had kept you up the past two nights, it lunged for the Mandalorian, the moonlight glinting off the armored plates along its spine.

The poor bastard never made it.

While the creature was still in mid-air, Mando jerked his wrist up, and a blast of flames roared out of his vambrace. The beast screeched as it was swallowed by the inferno, and its charred corpse crashed to the ground at Mando’s feet a moment later. The remainder of the pack snarled in fury as they paced in front of the bounty hunter, but you felt your throat tighten with fear.

The flamethrower was obviously a great weapon at repelling these creatures, but judging by the radius on that last spurt of fire, you estimated Mando had enough fuel for one, maybe two more attacks.

And there were dozens of the beasts left.

What were you going to do?

You heaved for breath as your eyes darted around the clearing, trying to look for a solution, but you knew the answer was obvious: you were going to have to fight.

You blindly tapped at your wrist, and a moment later the child’s carrier rose up above your head and nestled against the lowest branch of the tree you were standing under. You didn’t know if the beasts could climb, but the pod was made of a strong, reinforced metal, so as long as the creatures didn’t notice the kid, he should be fine.

The same couldn’t be said for you.

Maker, you were going to regret this, weren’t you?

You didn’t give yourself the chance to change your mind.

“Hey!” you shouted as you stepped further into the clearing, one of your hands dropping to the belt on your waist.

The chorus of snarls and growls tapered off for a moment as the pack whipped around in unison to face you, and the saliva evaporated in your mouth as you stared at the dozens of glowing white eyes.

At the sound of your voice, you could see Mando jerk upright in your peripherals, but you didn’t dare tear your eyes off the pack as they started to stalk toward you. Sweat dripped down your face and trickled along your spine as you palmed a cold, heavy orb in your right hand, and you watched the distance between you and the creatures shrink bit by bit.

Mando shouted your name, but you ignored him.

“Yeah, that’s right!” you yelled at the beasts instead. “You guys hungry? Why don’t you come and get me?”

“What are you doing?” Mando roared, but you still didn’t pay him any mind as you tracked the pack. There were maybe three dozen left alive, and they bared their black fangs at you as they drew closer and closer.

Twenty meters… fifteen… ten…

Now.

“Take this!” You heaved your arm back, aimed at the beast in the center of the pack’s line, and threw with all your might, and the creature yelped as the stun grenade struck him in the skull.

A moment later, a web of electricity exploded out of the orb and arced through half of the pack, and the poor bastards screeched and screamed as they fell spasming to the jungle floor. The beasts on the edges snarled as they jumped away from their sparking brethren, and you saw some of the canine-monsters retreat into the shadows of the clearing.

This was your chance.

You darted forward the moment you had a clear path to take, and you vaulted over the pack’s twitching bodies in three swift strides. When you landed on the other side of them, you spun around and faced the fallen creatures as they whined and spasmed on the ground. Then you lifted your rifle, aimed haphazardly, and pulled the trigger. You swept the barrel from side to side for a moment, energy bolts tearing and searing through flesh, but then you whirled back around and sprinted toward the Mandalorian’s prone form.

He was propped up against the log with his legs splayed out in front of him, and you inhaled sharply when you saw the dark stain of blood on the ground beneath his right thigh. His Amban rifle lay beside him, but since he wasn’t using it, you assumed he was out of ammo. The bounty hunter listed heavily onto what you first thought was a rock of some kind, but as you skidded to a stop in front of him, you realized the lump was the body of another humanoid, except it didn’t look to be breathing.

“Mando!” you gasped as you crouched down in front of him. “Maker, w-what happened—”

“What are you doing here?” he cut you off with a snarl, and the absolute rage in his voice drew you up short.

You gaped at his visor, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “W-What… you called—”

“I didn’t call you, he did, right before they tore out his throat,” Mando growled and shoved the prone form beside him.

The body flopped over with a thud, and you stifled a gag when you realized the poor bastard had been eviscerated. He was torn open from gut to gullet, intestines and innards gleaming wetly in the dark, and his bulging black eyes stared up unseeingly at the moon.

“Dank farrik, Mando,” you breathed in horror. “What happened?”

The Mandalorian tilted his helmet up to look at you, but then his gaze seemed to shift over your shoulder, and he was suddenly latching onto your wrist with an iron grip and tugging you forward.

“Watch out!” he shouted as you tripped over his legs and landed on the other side of him, and a moment later you heard and felt the roar of flames at your back as another beast met a smoldering end.

You scrambled up onto your knees and whirled around, rifle held at the ready, but there were only the two new dead creatures sprawled at Mando’s feet. Their corpses smoked as their blackened flesh crackled, and this time you weren’t successful in stifling your gag. You dry-heaved off to the side, tears blurring your vision, but when the chorus of bone-chilling howls started up again, you blinked away the tears and clenched your rifle in a white-knuckled grip.

“We gotta get out of here,” you panted, your eyes darting from place to place as you tried to track the beasts slithering through the shadows.

“Can’t,” Mando grunted, and all of the sudden, you realized his voice sounded off, slurred.

You whipped back around to face the bounty hunter, and your gaze immediately fell to the dark stain under his leg. It had grown since you’d first seen it, and then you realized a haphazard tourniquet was lashed around the top of his leg, right above the metal plate that covered the front of his thigh.

“You’re hurt,” you breathed. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.” Mando’s head jerked up and down in an unsteady nod. “Just… happened. One of them got me… when I was trying to save the bounty. Pretty sure they nicked my femoral.”

His words were softer and definitely slurred now, and panic rose up in your throat like a burning coal.

“Then we need to get back to the Razor Crest now,” you said as you reached for his shoulders, but the Mandalorian sluggishly shoved you away.

“I’ll… only slow you down,” he grunted. “The bounty and I… are easy meals. The pack should stay to finish us off while you make a break for the sh—”

“No,” you cut him off, and the snarl in your voice surprised even you. “No, Mando. I’m not leaving you to die. We’re only a kilometer away from the Razor Crest. I have extra power cells and grenades. We can make it.”

Mando’s head thunked back against the log he leaned on as he stared up at you, and even if you couldn’t see the face underneath the visor, you could see the resignation in every inch of him.

And it ignited a fury in you unlike anything you had ever known.

“So, what?” you growled, bending down to bare your teeth in his face. “You’re just gonna sit here and die? What about the kid? You just gonna abandon him?”

You’re just going to abandon me? you didn’t say, but the words rattled against the backs of your clenched teeth.

“He’ll… have you,” Mando said, and suddenly his gloved hand reached up as if to touch your face, but he didn’t seem to have the strength, and the tip of his index finger barely grazed the edge of your jaw. His touch left behind a warm streak on your skin, and you didn’t have to look to know it was blood.

“That’s not good enough,” you snarled before you stooped down and grabbed the ends of his makeshift tourniquet, yanking tightly on both ends until Mando groaned in pain and latched onto your shoulders.

He murmured your name, his modulator crackling in your ear, but you ignored him as you looped his spent Amban rifle over his shoulder and shifted to slide your left arm behind his back, throwing his right arm over your shoulders. You took two deep breaths to brace yourself, and then you dug your fingers into his waist as you tried to leverage the both of you onto your feet.

It was nearly impossible. The Mandalorian had to weigh nearly ninety kilos in his beskar, and with the added weight of the weapons and grenades you carried, you could feel the muscles in your legs, core, and back scream at the strain.

“Dank… farrik,” you hissed out between clenched teeth, but you managed to get the two of you upright, even if Mando was practically limp against you. Still, you had to leverage your back against the log behind you to keep from collapsing.

“We’ll never make it… back to the ship like this,” Mando panted, his cold helmet brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Shut up,” you gritted out, listening to the howling beasts closing in again like they could sense your weakness. “I refuse to leave you behind. So, unless you want to kill us both, you need to get your ass in gear, Mando. I can keep them off our backs as we go, but you need to walk with me. Understand?”

“Cyare,” he slurred, and the unfamiliar word sounded pained as his helmet thunked into your temple. “I… don’t want you to die.”

“Then walk,” you grunted as you tightened your grip on his waist and lurched forward a step.

Mando staggered behind you, half draped over your back, but you widened your stance and refused to go down.

“Please… Mando,” you panted, shoving the barrel of your rifle into the loamy red soil to act as a crutch. “Help me save us. Just… just put one foot in front of the other.”

“Wait,” the Mandalorian said, and he actually lifted his head off your shoulder. “The bounty…”

“The bounty’s dead,” you grunted as your eyes darted to the trees again. You could see the sinuous shapes of the pack weaving between the towering trunks, but they kept their distance for the moment. They’d lost more than half of their numbers by your estimate, and you prayed to the Maker they would just give up, but you knew that would be way too convenient for your life.

“The puck… said dead or alive,” Mando sighed, his arm weighing down on the nape of your neck like a yoke, and it reminded you of the slave’s collar you once wore.

“I can’t carry both of you back, Mando,” you growled in frustration. “I can barely drag you.”

“Don’t need the whole body,” he clarified. “Just… the head. It’s… a big bounty.”

You groaned as you glanced down at the quarry’s corpse, and then you tilted your head back to try and look at Mando.

“Can you stand by yourself for a minute?” you asked.

“Maybe,” Mando grunted, but he shifted his weight off you bit by bit and leaned up against the tall log at your backs. His boots slid a few inches in the blood-soaked dirt as he almost collapsed, but he dug his gloved fingers into the rigid bark and stood there shaking.

“Didn’t know I was paying you for maybes,” you parroted his words from days ago back at him in an attempt to take his mind off the pain, and it seemed to work because he actually huffed out a strained-sounding chuckle.

“Hurry,” he panted, and you nodded as you quickly stepped away from him, stood over the bounty’s corpse, and shoved the barrel of your rifle between his shoulder and neck.

It was so dark, and you were running on so much adrenaline you couldn’t even be sure of what species the man used to be, but you pushed the thought away as you took a deep breath and held down the trigger.

The rifle screeched as it tore through flesh like a hot knife through butter, and you tried to ignore the feeling of lukewarm blood splattering across your lower legs. Moments later, the jittery, rapid-fire motions of the gun ceased, and the bounty’s head rolled away from the smoldering stump of his neck.

Bile rose up in your throat again, but you swallowed it down as you picked up the decapitated head and started punching buttons on your cuff.

Instantly, you heard the familiar hum of the child’s pod drone closer and closer, and behind you Mando inhaled sharply as the jungle dogs yipped in curiosity from the shadows.

“You brought the kid?” he growled.

“Well, it wasn’t like you left me much kriffing choice, but you can fire me later for child endangerment,” you snapped as the carrier floated down to stop in front of you. Then you turned to the Mandalorian and held out your bloodied hand. “I need your fibercord whip. Eject it.”

Mando didn’t even question you, he just did as he was bid. Within moments, you had the thin but strong wire wound up in your palm, and then you started the gory process of wrapping it securely around the bounty’s bloody head. Your stomach churned at the slick warm goo covering your skin, but you swallowed the saliva pooling in your mouth as you tapped at your wrist again.

The child’s pod opened with a hiss, and you made sure to lower the decapitated head so it was below the carrier and out of the foundling’s line of sight.

“Hey there, bud,” you said as you leaned down and tucked the end of the fibercord into the interior of the pod near the hinges. “Look who I found.”

The foundling cooed and gurgled happily when he caught sight of the Mandalorian, and he lifted his arms and made grabby motions at the bounty hunter.

“Not yet,” you said as you stepped forward and blocked Mando from view. “First, we need to get back to the ship, so I need to close you up again. Don’t worry about anything you hear, though, okay? I promise we’ll be fine.”

The child murmured a soft sound as you bent down and kissed his wrinkled brow, but then you tapped at your wrist, and the pod closed with another hiss, locking the wire with the dangling head in place. You keyed in a few more commands, and the carrier rose up high above you, hovering at least six meters off the ground. Blood dripped from the severed stump of the quarry’s neck as it dangled from the pod, and you flinched when a speck of it landed on your cheek. It might be disgusting, but this way, the child and the remainder of the bounty would hopefully be out of reach of any of the beasts, and you could focus all your energy on getting you and Mando back to the Razor Crest.

“Alright.” You tore your gaze away from the silver pod and shifted your grasp on the rifle, wedging the stock against your right shoulder as tight as you could. You knew your aim would be abysmal since you were going have to shoot one handed while dragging Mando, but you hoped the full-auto setting would grant you some leeway. “Let’s go.”

“You really should—” the Mandalorian started, but you clicked your tongue to cut him off.

“That wasn’t a request,” you said as you sidled up against the bounty hunter and double checked that his tourniquet was secure.

“Fine.” He reluctantly draped his right arm over your shoulder, and you wrapped your left one around his waist. Then the two of you pushed off the log at your backs, and you staggered forward several steps, trying not to trip on any dead jungle dogs.

Mando’s cold beskar felt like it was burning you wherever it brushed against your bare, hot flesh, and he groaned in your ear as he practically dragged his injured leg behind him. The agony of his voice made you want to stop and sprint forward all at the same time, but you settled for stumbling several more steps.

“That’s it,” you panted in encouragement. “One step at a time.”

The pack howled and shrieked as you painstakingly shuffled your way across the clearing, but you haphazardly aimed your rifle into the jungle and held down the trigger. Rapid-fire bolts of energy careened into the darkness, illuminating white eyes and flashes of twining vines and snarling beasts, but several yowls echoed through the night, so you knew you’d hit at least some of them.

“Mando,” you gritted out as you neared the tree line. “I need you to hit my cuff. There’s a button on the side that will turn up my headlamp. I want it at maximum. Since these bastards are nocturnal, I’m guessing they don’t like the light.”

The Mandalorian grunted something that sounded like an affirmative, and then his left hand was swatting blindly at your cuff. After fumbling for a moment, his thick, gloved fingers encircled your wrist, his thumb brushing faintly over your thudding pulse point.

Your feet nearly tangled beneath you, but then Mando found the button on your cuff, and he pressed on it until the lights at your temple were bright enough to blind. The beams of white light cut through the oppressive darkness of the jungle, and the canine creatures yelped in pain as they darted back into the shadows. You swung your gaze back and forth, your lamp dragging over the scenery like a burning laser, and the beasts whimpered as their tails disappeared into the bushes.

“Come on,” you groaned as you dragged Mando forward, and the two of you finally stumbled into the thick of the trees.

You didn’t know how much time passed as you and the Mandalorian struggled back to the ship. Seconds seemed like minutes, minutes hours. The moon appeared frozen in the sky above your head, and more than once you had the thought that you were already dead, and this was some messed up version of an afterlife where you were tortured for eternity.

In the end, though, you knew you were alive.

If you weren’t, it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Left,” Mando slurred in your ear, half draped over your back, and your feet stuttered as you swung both of you around to the left.

The rifle screeched as it fired off into the darkness, followed by the yelps of dying dogs, and you hissed as the stock dug into your already sore shoulder. The pack snarled and gurgled as they encircled you, but they were hesitant now that you’d killed a majority of them. You wondered why they just didn’t give up, but you realized they could most likely sense you weakening, slowing.

Sweat ran in rivers down your face and spine, and every tendon in your body felt like it was on the edge of snapping. You could tell Mando was trying to take some of his weight off you, but he was becoming more and more unsteady with each step, his breath jagged and uneven as it rasped out of his helmet. He probably wouldn’t remain conscious for much longer, and if he passed out before you reached the ship, you were both dead. You couldn’t fully carry him, and you would not even entertain the idea of leaving him, so it was all or nothing.

Either you both reached the ship together, or neither of you did.

But, as you glanced up at the child’s pod hovering high over your head, you knew the second choice wasn’t really an option. The kid needed you. Needed both of you.

So, you were going to kriffing live, even if you had to break your body down to achieve your goal.

“Come on,” you encouraged as you stumbled over a tree root. “Come on, Mando. We’re almost there. Stay with me, okay?”

You had no idea if you were almost there or not. The homing beacon on your cuff was beeping steadily, but with all the howling, and the blood pounding through your ears, you couldn’t approximate how close you were to the Razor Crest.

“I’m… trying,” Mando mumbled, lifting his head just slightly. “B-Behind us.”

You cursed under your breath, letting the rifle dangle against your chest as you fumbled at your waist. Your fingers curled around a cold, metal orb, and you clicked the button in its center before you lobbed the grenade over your shoulder with all the strength you had left, which wasn’t much.

Then you staggered forward a little faster, dragging the bounty hunter behind you, and five seconds later, you heard the stun grenade go off, followed by the crackling of static and the yelping of beasts.

“That’s my last… stun grenade,” you panted, and the hair on your arms stood on end with all the electricity in the moist air. “I have some explosive ones… but…”

“But we’re not fast enough to get out of range in time,” Mando finished for you, his helmet bumping into the crown of your head as he sagged a little more.

“Yeah,” you huffed, but then a crunch to your right had you whirling and firing in one motion.

The canine yipped and screeched as the energy bolts tore through its chest mid-lunge, and it crashed into the ground at your feet as you staggered into a tree. The bark scraped painfully across your bare shoulder blades, and Mando groaned as you almost lost your grip on him.

“No,” you growled, tightening your arm around the bounty hunter and tugging you both upright. “Dank… farrik!”

The muscles in your arm burned hotly from the strain of keeping the Mandalorian on his feet, and you bit through your tongue to keep from crying out, the metallic taste of blood coating your teeth and whetting your parched mouth.

You stumbled forward blindly as you tried to work through the pain, but all the sudden, the claustrophobic darkness caused by the towering trees lessened a few degrees. You thought you were hallucinating it at first, but then you lifted your head a fraction and realized the trees were thinning out ahead of you.

And the beacon in your cuff was beeping like mad.

You were almost there. The Razor Crest was so close.

Of course, that’s when the snarling behind you reached new frantic heights, and you knew the pack was gearing up for one final assault.

“Mando, listen to me,” you gasped as you shifted to shove him against a tree, using your palm to keep him rooted at the sternum and on his feet.

He groaned as he listed there, mumbling something that didn’t sound like it was in Basic, but he remained upright, so you seized the opportunity to jab at the screen on your wrist. A moment later, the child’s pod swooped down from where it had been hovering near the canopy, and the bounty’s head dragged against the jungle floor with a dull crunch. You tweaked the carrier’s settings half blind, one eye on the encroaching darkness and the beasts therein, and then you grabbed the floating orb and shoved it against Mando’s gut.

“Ugh,” the bounty hunter grunted, his feet starting to slide out from under him.

“No, lean forward,” you rushed out, grabbing one of his shoulders and tugging him toward you.

Mando moaned as he collapsed onto the child’s pod, but since you’d cranked up the carrier’s power output to the max, the bounty hunter didn’t crash to the ground. Instead, he hung there half suspended, the pod whirling angrily from his added weight, his feet limp and dragging behind him.

“Mando,” you said as you tapped the side of his helmet, eyes still on the shadowy trees. “Mando, I need you to hold onto that pod as tight as you can, okay? Can you hear me?”

“Hear… you,” the Mandalorian just barely breathed, and you saw his arms wrap around the bottom of the silver carrier.

“Hold on like your life depends on it,” you instructed as you tapped at your wrist again. “Because it does.”

“What—” he started to ask, but he didn’t get to finish the question because the pod was suddenly surging forward, in the direction of the ship. The bounty’s head and Mando’s feet dragged loudly against the ground, but with one last jolt of power, the pod lifted away from the jungle floor and began to float away.

The pod would probably have just enough power to get Mando back to the ship before it died, but that was fine. That was just what you needed.

The jungle dogs howled and shrieked as they watched the Mandalorian drifting away through the trees, but as you listened to them start to skirt around you in his direction, you finally gripped the rifle with two hands and aimed into the dark.

Then you pulled the trigger, full-auto, and the shrieking of the energy bolts collided with the screeching of the canines and crescendoed into a deafening cacophony. You sprayed the jungle in wide sweeps as you slowly started to walk backward toward the Razor Crest, the rifle stock jolting into your shoulder in time with your racing heart. You just needed to give Mando time to reach the ship. You had programmed the pod to open the ramp at a certain distance, so they would just fly on into the cargo bay, and it would close behind them. Once they were safe, you could make a break for it and—

Suddenly, one of the shadows broke away from the trunk directly to your right, and you turned too late to see it was a slavering beast, its bifurcated jaw wide open and aimed for your throat.

“Ahh!” You stumbled back, trying to crane away from those jagged black fangs, but your feet got tangled up beneath you, and you came crashing down. A root slammed into one of your rear ribs so hard you heard and felt the snap as the bone gave, but you didn’t even have time to register that pain before the jungle dog smashed into your chest.

You instinctively shoved your arms outward, wedging the rifle between those deadly, snapping jaws. One of the beast’s jagged fangs scraped down your forearm as you tried to keep the bastard from swallowing you whole, and you screamed in fury and pain as blood spilled from your rending flesh.

Then you brought your knee up and smashed it as hard as you could into the jungle dog’s ribcage, and this time you felt its rib snap, and grim satisfaction burned like a wildfire through your blood. The warmth filled your limbs until you thought you would burst into flame, and you kicked the beast again and again as it yipped.

You were just starting to think you had the upper hand when the creature’s jaw started to close with a creaking sound of bone on metal, and your eyes widened in horror as the canine jerked its head back, taking your rifle with it. Then its bifurcated jaw snapped close with a horrible crunch, and the rifle shattered into shards of metal and sparks.

The beast roared in pain and rage as it tossed the remains of your rifle aside, but now you were acting on pure survival instinct, not thought, not logic, and you were already wrenching two grenades and a vibroknife off your belt when the nightmare dog finally settled its four milky white eyes on your face.

“Eat this, you bastard,” you snarled as its terrible jaws, rowed with serrated teeth, descended on you.

Then with one hand you stabbed the vibroknife into its neck just above the shoulder, and with the other you activated the grenades and shoved both of them down the jungle dog’s throat.

Warm blood sprayed down on you like humid rainfall, and you twisted the blade in to the hilt, feeling as it tore through flesh in a jittery fashion. The creature gagged and gurgled as its throat muscles convulsed around your other wrist for just an instant, but then you yanked your arms back with all your might, teeth catching on your elbow again, before you crashed into the dirt.

You were scrambling up in the next instant, barely listening to the creature heaving and choking behind you as you staggered forward into a clumsy sprint.

The rest of the pack howled at your back, but you were flat out running now, and you could see the Razor Crest through the trees. The pounding of paws on dirt sounded at your heels, and you couldn’t tell if you were gasping for breath or sobbing as you tore the final grenades off your belt, activated them, and let them fall through your numb fingers.

In the next instant, you broke through the tree line, and you could see the ramp of the Razor Crest, closing. You slapped at your wrist blindly as you sprinted as fast as you could, lungs heaving to the point of seizures, legs at the point of collapse. You didn’t know if the dogs were still right behind you, but the grenades…

You must have finally hit the right command because the ramp suddenly shuddered before it started to lower again, and you were ten meters away when the grenades went off like dominoes falling.

The first two explosions—of the grenades you shoved into the jungle dog—only shook the ground hard enough to make you stumble forward, but then the rest of them detonated much closer, and the combined shockwave hit you moments later and catapulted you into the air.

Thankfully, the ramp was just low enough that you scraped over it and crashed into the ship, smashing into a bulkhead with a dull crunch. The howling shrieks of dying dogs reached you through the ringing in your ears, and you felt a wave of heat hit you as the grenades engulfed the jungle trees. You curled into a ball on the cargo bay floor, your back to the ramp, and you just barely had the presence of mind to tap at your wrist one last time. A moment later, you heard the whirling of the ramp closing, and when it clanked shut a moment later, you rolled over onto your back and stared blindly above you.

You could just barely hear the roar of the building wildfire outside the ship, and the screeching of the jungle dogs died down within seconds. Your entire body—your lungs, your heart—heaved up and down as adrenaline pulsed through you like a bad hit of spice, and your ears ached in the relative silence.

Then the child cooed, and Mando groaned weakly, and you jolted upright like you had just been struck by lightning.

“Mando,” you rasped, flipping over onto your raw hands and bruised knees.

The bounty hunter half-sat, half-sprawled on the floor at the foot of his bunk. The foundling’s pod lay askew on the ground in front of the fresher like it had crash landed there when it finally died, but the child stood unharmed beside the Mandalorian.

Who was currently bleeding out on the floor of the cargo bay.

“Kriff!” You scrambled forward when you saw the spreading stain of blood below his leg, and as you drew closer, you realized his tourniquet must have been loosened when he collapsed.        

The Mandalorian barely even seemed conscious at this point. His chest stirred only slightly beneath his beskar chest plate, and if it weren’t for the soft groans he was exhaling, you would have thought him dead.

“Mando!” you shouted as you shakily rose onto your feet and staggered the rest of the way to the fresher. Your hands were shaking as you tore one of the storage compartments open in search of a med kit, and your voice cracked when you said his name again. “Mando! Stay with me. We made it back. We’re on the ship. Just stay with me for a few more moments. Please.”

You crashed down onto your knees beside the bounty hunter, tearing the med kit open with bloody hands and broken nails. His helmeted head lolled onto the edge of the bunk behind him, and you could barely hear his raspy breaths through the modulator.

The child stood between Mando’s splayed boots, eyes large and frightened, but you couldn’t pay him any mind right now. Your frantic gaze darted between the bacta gel patch in your hand and Mando’s bleeding leg, and even though it felt crazy, you set the patch down for a moment and reached for the last vibroknife on your belt.

Suddenly, Mando jerked awake with a gasp, and you reached out without thinking, pressing your left palm over his heart and feeling his faint, fluttering pulse.

“Mando, I’m right here,” you murmured soothingly. “Keep breathing for me.”

The Mandalorian muttered your name as his head lolled toward you.

“Yes, that’s me, I’m here,” you said, rising up on your knees and leaning over him. The vibroknife glimmered in your hand, looking like a real-life glitch, but you shook off the unsettling feeling and fixed your eyes on Mando’s visor.

“Mesh’la,” the Mandalorian slurred. The word was soft and elongated to the point of sounding like gibberish, but his hand settled firmly on the wrist you still had pressed to his heart, like he was talking directly to you.

In any other situation, your own heart would be fluttering with a feeling you didn’t want to name, but as the bounty hunter’s blood started to soak into the knees of your pants, all you could feel was dread.

“I need you to stay still, okay?” you said as you dropped your hand from his chest to grip the top of his injured thigh. “I need to cut your pants away from the wound.”

“O… kay,” he muttered, and his hand fell to settle over yours again on his leg like he was grounding himself by touching you.

“Nice and easy,” you cooed, trying to blink the tears out of your eyes so you could see to cut through his pants and not his flesh. “I’ll have that bacta patch on in just a moment. Why don’t you talk to me, huh? Mando, talk to me. Tell me something. J-Just stay awake.”

“Aw…ake,” he whispered, but it sounded like he was just repeating you now, barely clinging to consciousness.

Your hand shook as you slowly sawed through the blood-soaked fabric, and an aborted sob rose in your throat. But you shoved your hysteria down, down, down, you had no time for it, you had to stay level-headed, steady-handed, Mando was counting on you, Mando was dying.

“Mando,” you choked as you finally pulled the cloth away from his wound. Three parallel gashes, each nearly five centimeters deep, ran from his hip crease and nearly all the way to his knee, and blood pulsed sluggishly from the wounds in crimson gobs. “Oh, Maker, Mando.”

You dropped the vibroknife with a loud clang as you lunged for the bacta patch, and out of your peripherals you could see the child waddling closer, standing in between the Mandalorian’s knees, the hem of his little robe slowly staining scarlet. You didn’t have the heart or the strength to shove the child away now, so instead you focused on settling the bacta patch over the bounty hunter’s grisly injuries.

Mando twitched and inhaled sharply as the bacta adhered to his skin, and you sent up a million prayers to the Maker that you had administered aid in time.

“There y-you go,” you sniffled, unable to stop the tears from coursing down your cheeks now. “I got the patch on, Mando. You’re going t-to be okay. You… you have to be okay. Do you hear me, Mando?”

You felt like a glitching holotape repeating his name over and over, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You wanted, no needed, him to stay awake, and every time you said his name, he seemed to jerk a little, like he’d been recalled from a long distance at the sound of your voice.

For a moment, there was only the faint, raspy wheeze of the Mandalorian’s breath through his helmet, but then he suddenly mumbled something.

“What?” You shuffled closer, slipping in blood. You practically had your ear pressed against his visor. “What was that, Mando? Say it again. Come on, talk to me, Mando.”

“Not… Mando.”

The words were stilted, sluggish, and you frowned in confusion. “Huh? I-I don’t understand.”

“My… name isn’t… Mando,” the bounty hunter struggled out, and his helmet tilted forward a fraction like he had lifted his head and was looking right at you. “It’s… Din. Din Djarin.”

The shock you felt was muted, distant and removed, like a crack that formed deep in the heart of a glacier, buried beneath the adrenaline, horror, and helplessness warring within you.

“Din,” you breathed, and the word somehow tasted like the exact moment Peli dug out your transmitter chip. It tasted like freedom, like infinite possibility, and you didn’t understand why.

Mando—no, Din, Din Djarin—exhaled heavily as his head thunked back against the bunk, and even if you couldn’t see it, you could tell his eyes were slipping closed. “I… wanted at least someone to know before I—”

“No,” you cut him off vehemently, reaching out to cradle the sides of his helmet like you were cupping his face. “No, you’re not going to die. Not now. Not when… no, do you hear me, Din Djarin? I will not allow you to die. Not when I worked my ass off to fix this ship and drag you back onto it by the skin of my kriffing teeth.”

“Mmmm.” Din’s head lolled in your grasp, the weight of him growing heavier and heavier. “I knew I would like the way… you say my name.”

Oh, Maker. He was nonsensical now, and terror gripped you by the throat and squeezed.

“Then stay awake, Din,” you begged, and your heart felt like it was on the edge of a great precipice. “Stay awake for me.”

“’m so… tired,” he sighed.

“I know,” you breathed as you guided his head back to rest against the bunk, and you couldn’t speak above a whisper because your voice was thick with tears. “I know, but just listen to my voice, Din. Just—”

You trailed off as the child suddenly waddled into your line of sight, and you dropped your gaze slightly to find him standing between the Mandalorian’s thighs, right next to the bacta covered wounds. The foundling stared up at the bounty hunter with a furrowed, seemingly determined expression, and then he closed his big brown eyes as he reached for Din’s leg.

“Oh, buddy, don’t,” you started, reaching out to stop him, but Din—Maker, his name felt delicious and forbidden even in your mind—weakly placed his hand on your wrist to stop you.

“It’s… okay,” he panted. “He can help.”

“Help?” You frowned down at the child. How could he help? Was this one of the “powers” the bounty hunter had vaguely mentioned before? You thought the foundling’s ability dealt with physically moving things, not healing, but honestly you could do for a miracle right about now.

The child gurgled a small noise as his three fingers settled over Din’s wound, and the Mandalorian inhaled sharply at the same time that you felt… something. You weren’t sure what it was, but it was like the very air shifted, became magnetic, charged somehow. The air stilled in your lungs as you feared even the barest breath would fracture this fragile spell you were bearing witness to, and you watched with wide eyes as the gashes on the bounty hunter’s legs began to close right in front of you.

Bacta worked fast… but not that fast.

Several still, endless seconds passed as the foundling healed the Mandalorian, but then just as soon as it began, the moment ended. The atmosphere snapped almost tangibly, time jolted back into motion, and the child suddenly started to pitch backward.

“Oh!” you gasped as you lunged forward, your hands cupping the baby and bringing him close to your body. The foundling’s eyes were closed, his face slack, but his little chest still moved up and down with breath.

“He’s okay.”

You snapped your head up, more tears spilling down your cheeks with the motion.

Din was sitting up a little straighter, and his helmet looked squarely at you. His voice sounded stronger, too, and you gaped at him in bewilderment.

“He’s okay,” the Mandalorian repeated when you continued to blink at him. “He usually… tires himself out when he uses his powers.”

“I d-didn’t know he could do that,” you breathed, and your tongue felt like a disembodied lump of flesh in your mouth. “I… wait, how do you feel? A-Are you okay?”

You suddenly realized how close you still were to the bounty hunter, practically kneeling in his lap, but you ignored this as your eyes darted back to his leg. It was a little hard to tell through the dried blood and blue bacta, but it looked like the three gashes had closed altogether, leaving behind faint pink lines.

“I’ll survive,” the bounty hunter sighed, thunking his head back against the bunk again, but he tilted it to the side to regard you still. “Thanks to you.”

“I-I’m not the one who just healed you with magic,” you stuttered incredulously as your cheeks flared hot, and you cuddled the child against your chest even though you realized you knew almost nothing about the apparently powerful foundling.

“No,” Mando said evenly, “but you did charge out into a dark, unknown, dangerous jungle, fight off a pack of wild dogs, and drag both me and the bounty back safely.”

“Well,” you snorted with an edge of hysteria in your voice, and you gestured to the discarded head that lay sprawled against the corner of the fresher. “I don’t know if I’d say he got here safely.”

Maker, you felt a little crazy, hollowed out and wrung dry by the sheer amount of emotions you’d just experienced in a span of a few minutes.

“I’m serious,” the Mandalorian replied. “You… saved my life. I am in your debt.”

“I-I’m not one for debts.” You shook your head to try and clear it, dropping your gaze to the foundling’s face, nuzzled against your sternum. “I don’t like to owe anyone or be owed. You’ve stuck your neck out for me before, so let’s just call it even… Din.”

You saw the bounty hunter freeze out of the corner of your eye, and you bit your cheek until you tasted blood.

You should have known that was too much to ask for.

“Sorry,” you muttered, peeking up at the Mandalorian through your lashes. “You… mentioned your name when you were—”

“I remember,” Mando said, cutting you off, but you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, his expression hidden as always and his voice pitched in a way you didn’t recognize, couldn’t identify.

“Right.” You cleared your throat, feeling the adrenaline starting to drain out of you and be replaced by every ache and pain you had ignored in lieu of survival. “Of course, I can just forget about it. You weren’t exactly in your right mind, after all. I’ll just… using ‘Mando’ is fine for me.”

The Mandalorian’s visor stared you down unflinchingly for what felt like an eternity. Then…

“You can… use my name, if you like,” he said haltingly, then quickly amended himself. “But only when we’re alone, on the ship. I… my name could be a dangerous thing in the hands of my enemies.”

You blinked in shock at the bounty hunter.

“A-Are you sure?” you asked, and you tried to keep the hope out of your voice, but you knew you failed miserably. “O-Only if you’re sure. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You’d thought giving up his name had just been a delusional, dying declaration, and you didn’t want him to regret it. What you said had been true enough. You were fine using “Mando,” even if the traitorous feelings buried deep in your chest said otherwise.

“I’m sure.” The bounty hunter nodded minutely. “I… trust you.”

The admission flooded your whole body with warmth, and goosebumps broke out across your skin. You’d known the Mandalorian trusted you, he wouldn’t have left his ship or his foundling in your care otherwise, but hearing him say the words felt like something out of a dream.

“Okay, then.” You smiled, heart thudding against where the child was pressed into your chest. “Din.”

At the sound of his name, the tension in the Mandalorian’s worn body seemed to bleed out of him entirely, and he sighed as his helmet fell back again.

“Let’s get off this Maker-forsaken planet,” he grumbled.

“I second that,” you chuckled dryly before you slowly clambered to your feet, careful not to slip in Din’s tacky blood or jostle the sleeping baby in your arms. You very gingerly leaned over the prone Mandalorian to set the foundling in his hammock, but you hissed when the movement jarred the bruised or fractured rib in your back.

“What’s wrong?” Din asked below you, and he was so close you could feel the rumble of his modulated voice against the bare skin of your stomach, your tank top having lifted up a fraction.

“Nothing.” You took a quick step backward, trying to put distance between you and the bounty hunter, but now that he was no longer actively dying, you were starting to realize you were a little more beat up then you’d previously thought.

The moment you stepped back on your right leg, your hamstring seized up, and when you went to grab at it, you realized your fingers were a little numb. You glanced down and saw fresh blood dripping down your forearm—your blood, not Mando’s—and the sight of the wound seemed to flip a switch in your brain because a moment later, pain crashed over you like a wave.

“Dank farrik,” Mando cursed lowly as he tried to shove himself up.

“No, no, no, no,” you babbled, holding out your less injured left hand in a gesture to stop him. “Don’t get up so fast.”

“You’re hurt,” he grunted, and you could practically hear the scowl in his voice as he tilted his helmet back to stare at you. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” you stressed, even though you could still taste blood on the back of your tongue. “Also, you seriously have no room to talk. You were literally just bleeding out less than five minutes ago.”

“How much bacta do we have left?” he asked, completely ignoring your statement. “We should take care of your injuries before they get any worse.”

“Maker, you’re not even listening to me, are you?” You rolled your eyes as you leaned your shoulder against the bulkhead, but when the Mandalorian started to get up again, you held your hand out once more. “Alright! Alright. Let me at least set the coordinates to meet up with the client and get the ship in the air. I’m pretty sure the jungle is burning down around us as we speak anyway, so the sooner we lift off, the better.”

Din stared up at you silently for a moment like he wanted to argue.

“It will take me two minutes, max,” you reasoned with him. “I won’t pass out or die in that time frame, okay?”

“Fine,” he finally sighed and dropped his chin to his chest. “Just… be careful climbing up there.”

“I’ll try my best,” you snorted, wincing when pain flared through your body, but you still slowly made your way to the ladder.

It took you way longer to climb five rungs than it should have, but you thought not falling back into the cargo bay was a feat in itself, given how every muscle in your arms and legs twitched in pain. The blood pouring down your arm also did nothing to help your grip, nor did your scraped up palms, but you still made it into the cockpit relatively unscathed.

Dawn was just breaking beyond the windows, but you could barely see it through the black smoke that hung thick in the air. Guilt sat heavy in your chest as you saw the charred trees and the birds fleeing the flames overhead, but you told yourself you did what you had to in order to survive.

And it wasn’t like you were walking away scot-free, either. Your arm pounded painfully in time with your slowing pulse, and every time you took a deep breath, you became a little surer that the rib in your back was, in fact, broken.

You punched in the client’s rendezvous coordinates without sitting in the pilot’s chair since you knew if you sat down now there was no way you were getting back up. While you waited for the Razor Crest to power up, you cringed at the blood you were dripping all over the floor, but there was nothing for it at this point. The whole ship would need a thorough scrub down the next time you made a pit stop, but that was a future-you problem. Right now, you were mainly focused on getting off this planetoid and out into orbit without crashing and burning.

You held your breath as the pre-Empire ship rose up above the now smoldering jungle, but no warning alarms or messages sounded. The Razor Crest glided steadily upward, and you leaned heavily on the control panel as you breeched first the clouds and then the atmosphere. Entering orbit rattled the ship and you more than you cared for, but nothing broke off or burst into flame, and before you knew it, you were drifting through the familiar black void of space.

“Thank the kriffing Maker,” you sighed as the autopilot took over, and then you turned and shuffled back to the ladder, exhaustion starting to make the edges of your vision go fuzzy.

Or maybe that was blood loss?

You were a little less graceful with the descent than you were with the ascent, but you at least landed on your feet before you nearly collapsed into the fresher.

“Careful,” Mando’s modulated voice murmured, and suddenly his bare hand was on your left, uninjured elbow, skin against warm skin.

“What are… you doing up?” You frowned as you studied the Mandalorian, trying to make sense of what you were seeing as he led you to sit in the open mouth of his bunk.

“I told you,” he said, reaching over and grabbing another med kit from the fresher. “We need to take care of your injuries before they get any worse.”

“You should be resting,” you grumbled, but you were too tired to put any real heat behind your voice.

“I’m fine,” Din parroted your earlier proclamation back at you. “The kid did a thorough job.”

Then the bounty hunter sat on a crate before you, a crate that hadn’t been there before, and you realized he was no longer wearing a majority of his beskar, save the ever-present helmet, of course. Instead, a faded but clean pair of duraweave clothes covered his body, and the bloodied outfit you’d basically sliced off him was piled up between his feet. It also looked like he had haphazardly tried to mop up some of his blood with the dirty clothes, and you wondered if you’d been up in the cockpit longer than you thought.

“Hey,” you chuckled suddenly, and you distantly noted that your voice was a little slurred with exhaustion. “Looks like I’ll have some new rags after all.”

You giggled a little loopily as you gestured to the Mandalorian’s blood-soaked clothes and then to the blood and dirt your outfit was also currently coated in, but Mando didn’t seem as amused as you were.

“Let me see your arm,” he said as his helmet stared at you impassively, but then he paused and added, “Please.”

“It’s really not that bad,” you tried to argue as you held out your injured limb, but since it was still actively dripping blood, your words didn’t carry much weight. Then the bounty hunter gingerly gripped your wrist with tentative fingers, and you hissed through your teeth as pain lanced up your arm.

“Osik,” Din cursed in a language you didn’t recognize, slowly rotating your arm to take in the extent of the damage. “Did one of those dogs get you? The bastard almost flayed you to the bone in some spots.”

“Yeah, well I shoved two grenades down his throat, so I think we’re even,” you gritted out.

Din froze and lifted his head, your blood, sweat, and dirt-streaked face reflecting back at you from his visor. “You what?” 

He must have really been on death’s door if he didn’t notice or remember you literally blowing the jungle dogs to Tatooine and back, but you just shook your head.

“Story time later,” you huffed, narrowing your eyes as you tried to breathe through the pain. “Bacta time now, please.”

“Right.” Mando jerked back into action, and in the next moment he was shifting into medic-droid mode.

Few words were shared between you two as the Mandalorian tended to your bumps and scrapes. Beside the deep lacerations on your forearm, your palms and knees were scraped bloody from tripping your way through a dangerous jungle in the dead of night. Your upper back was in the same condition since you’d been wearing a tank top when you decided to grapple with blood-thirsty hounds, and when Din accidentally brushed against your lower back, a small whimper squeezed out between your clenched teeth.

“This rib is probably broken,” the bounty hunter said, and there was a heavy quality to his quiet voice.

“Thought as much,” you grunted, trying to sit up straight without breathing too deeply. “Too bad we don’t have a full bacta tank to soak in.”

“I could always… drop you back off on Tatooine,” Mando muttered. “With the payment that I owe you, of course. Should be enough to pay for a full treatment and then some.”

You froze sitting there in the doorway of his bunk. The Mandalorian wasn’t looking at you, too busy double checking the bandage he’d wrapped over the bacta on your forearm, but you could see how rigid his body was as he awaited your answer.

“Do you… want to drop me back off on Tatooine?” you asked hesitantly, the breath shallow in your lungs. You could hear the child snoring softly in the hammock directly behind your head, and the thought of leaving him opened a dark pit inside you.

And that was nothing to say of the thought of leaving the Mandalorian. Of leaving… Din.

Now that you knew his name, the feelings you had done your best to ignore came surging up to the surface, that little voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

He told you his name. He trusts you. He wants you here. Maybe he wants you for more than just your skills.

You shoved the thoughts away as quickly as they cropped up, but that didn’t stop something small and fragile from unfurling in your chest. You almost wanted to call it hope.

“I—” Mando started, stopped, fidgeted on his crate, and then sighed as he scooted back a little to stretch out his injured leg. “No, I don’t want to do that. You’re a talented mechanic and… good company. I’ve… enjoyed having you on my crew.”

“Oh.” You blushed as the breath whooshed out of your lungs, leaving you feeling lightheaded and buoyant. “T-Thank you. Current circumstances notwithstanding, I’ve enjoyed being on your crew, too. A-And not just for the payment. Seeing new worlds, as dangerous as they are, was something I never thought I’d get to experience. So, even if the price to pay is a few bumps and scrapes, I think that’s a fair deal.”

“You have a skewed idea of ‘fair,’” the Mandalorian chuckled dryly as he reached down beside him, picked up a pair of his gloves, and slipped them back on.

“No kriff,” you snorted, the scar on the nape of your neck tingling. “But it works out in your favor, so I wouldn’t question it too much.”

“Fine.” Din held up his hands, but then he lowered them to his knees and cocked his head at you.

“What?” you asked when he didn’t say anything for a full minute. His gaze made your skin prickle even if you couldn’t see his eyes, and with each passing moment, you grew acutely more and more aware of how dirty and disheveled you looked and felt.

“Nothing,” he said, fingers flexing against his knees. “Just… thank you. Again. For saving me, the kid, the bounty, and the ship.” 

You fidgeted in discomfort. You didn’t know what to do with praise and compliments, having never really received them before, so you shrugged your shoulders as you picked at the bandage on your arm.

“I told you, we’re even,” you muttered.

“It doesn’t feel that way to me,” he argued, and something about his tone told you he wasn’t going to let this go. “So, how about this: after we drop off this bounty with the client, you can pick the next planet we stop on.”

“Really?” Your eyes flicked up to the bounty hunter and widened. He’d never let you pick a destination before. You’d always just been along for the ride.

Mando nodded. “And make a list of parts and stuff you need to keep the ship running. We’ll stock up wherever we stop off next.”

“Okay.” You grinned as your heart did a little jig in your chest, and you stuck out your bacta-wrapped hand to shake on it. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Din Djarin.”

His name rolled off your tongue like a grain of sand spiraling down a dune, picking up momentum as it went, and it sent a shiver of pleasure straight down your spine. You knew you were playing a losing game with your own heart here, but as you stared into Mando’s visor, you also knew there was no stopping yourself now. You would just have to deal with the future heartbreak.  

The Mandalorian tentatively reached out and grasped your fingers in his gloved ones.

“Deal,” he rumbled back.

“Good.” You nodded as a yawn cracked open your jaw, and you reached up to cover your gaping mouth and scratch your nose. “Now, given the client’s rendezvous coordinates, we should have a few days of rest before we reach our destination, and if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to start right now by taking a well-deserved nap.”

You made to stand up, but Din gently placed his hand on your shoulder to keep you seated on the edge of the bunk.

“Take the cot,” he said as he nodded behind you. “I’m going up to the cockpit to send a message to the client anyway.”

“Are you sure?” you murmured around another yawn.

“I’m sure,” he said, but then his gloved fingers were suddenly ghosting over the bridge of your nose. “By the way, you’ve got a little grease right here. Just thought you should know.”

You went cross-eyed as you tried to draw his finger into focus, but when he stepped back, you noticed the fingertips of his glove were shiny, and glancing down at the hand you used to shake his revealed that your palm bore the same black sheen.

“Hey, this is your grease,” you muttered indignantly, but then Din was pressing gently on your shoulder, guiding you to lay back on the cot, and you went willingly.

“Get some rest,” he said, turning off the bunk lights. “We’ll worry about cleaning up later.”

You tried to grumble something, but exhaustion was starting to tug at your limbs and eyelids, and your body unwound bit by bit as you buried your face in the bounty hunter’s pillow with no remorse.

A moment later, Mando’s boots were clomping up the ladder to the cockpit, but he left some of the cargo bay lights on and the door to the bunk open, like he somehow knew you were afraid of the dark.

The beginnings of a smile tugged at your lips, but you spiraled into sleep before you could fully process the thought.

[feed-your-neopets]

Valdemar x Devil!Lucio Fluff (One-shot)

Writer Preface:

First, I haven’t written fanfiction in years. Nor have I read a book recently. So, don’t feel bad about pointing out grammar mistakes or spelling mistakes. It’s been a while since I’ve done anything like this. Also, my knowledge of the science and medical world is pitiful. Please, let me know if I said something ridiculous.

Second, it is cannon that Lucio has a New Jersey accent. It may enhance the story to imagine him with it, because I did while writing this.

Third, this is just slow, awkward, fluffy Valdemar x Lucio stuff. I was trying to piece together how a relationship could even develop between them, and I love the challenge of unlikely, cursed pairings. I was thinking this would probably take place in Muriel’s route (so, smoll SPOILERS from this point on). I would think Lucio’s social circle would be dwindling since – ya know – he merged with the Devil and all. Lucio would definitely be longing for friendship and companionship. Valdemar will humor him if it means they get new things to study. Get that bag, Valdemar.

---

The salon was one of the few rooms left in the palace where one could find some peace. Ironic, as this room was once one of the livelier places in the palace. After all, the salon was where Countess Nadia would entertain her guests. Now, it was an echo of its former self.

Since his resurrection and merging with the boss, Count Lucio ran with a different crowd, and these new guests had a habit of “borrowing”. Not that Valdemar cared about the state of the rooms throughout the palace, nor the drunkards who sloppily paraded through the hallways with pockets full of silverware. However, the room was simply lacking. It was not quite the same without Countess Nadia’s fingers gliding across the ivory keys with precision and grace. Instead of the haunting melodies of a grand piano and the idle chatter of the other courtiers, the room was filled with the distant echoes of intoxicated partygoers reciting a rather impolite folk song about a sea captain’s cousin.

However, Valdemar was paying little attention to the commotion outside and quietly sipped their tea. They chose instead to focus on the decorating choices they felt were an improvement. For example, the dying flowers wilting in waterless vases were a nice touch. Additionally, the portrait that Count Lucio had commissioned in his mother’s likeness had some alterations. It was laying waste on the ground below where it was once proudly hung. The vandalism was done with such intention that Valdemar was certain the count had crossed out the eyes himself. Valdemar pondered if he had done so in a fit of rage. The count had such a temper, and judging from his interaction with his mother, there was a lot of emotional baggage to unpack. While the symbolism was a tad on the nose, Valdemar appreciated the irony none-the-less. It was Lucio who murdered his own mother. It was only fitting he should be the one to remove the light from her portrait’s eyes too.

Without much warning, the doors of the salon burst open with a bang; shaking the few portraits that still hung on the walls. Yet, Valdemar sat unflinching despite the abrupt entrance from the count.

“Alright, I’ll catch you guys later.” called Count Lucio to a chorus of guttural cheers and whooping from the end of the hall. Valdemar peered at the count from over their teacup as they took a long sip. They had been wondering what was taking the count so long. He had been the one who had requested a meeting with them. To keep them waiting seemed in poor taste.

“Crazy guys.” chucked Lucio to himself before turning his attention to Valdemar. “Hey, there you are! Where have you been? You weren’t at last night’s party. You missed Vulgora tackling several new recruits. You should have seen them go at it. We were taking bets and everything.”

“Hm.” hummed Valdemar as they peered into their teacup, finding more interest in the way the tea leaves settled to the bottom of their cup than Lucio’s story. However, Lucio did not seem to notice as he reenacted the punches and kicks of last night’s tussle; knocking over a chair in the process. “But hey, don’t worry about missing it. They’ll probably do it again tomorrow night. You’re gonna love it.”

“I am sure, my count.” lied Valdemar.

Lucio seemed convince Valdemar was genuine, and with an exaggerated groan, he slumped into the chair next to them. Valdemar watched as he adjusted the scabbard on his waist, the end of which clanked aggressively on the hardwood floor. His legs then spread out for maximum comfort as he sunk into his seat. It would seem he was finally situated, and he looked merrily back at Valdemar expecting them to speak first. The quaestor closed their eyes. Admittedly, their patience was wearing thin. With a short sigh, they placed their teacup on the table and prepared themselves to address the count.

“Is there a reason you have called me here today, my count?” asked Valdemar as politely as they could muster.

A spark of realization lit in Lucio’s eyes. “Oh, yeah, that’s right! I gotcha something.” said Lucio as he started rummaging through a small satchel. “I felt like we left it kinda weird at that old broad’s house, and I been wanting to make it up to you.”

“Old broad?” whispered Valdemar to themself as they searched their lexicon for a translation.

“Yeah, you remember. I gave you her heart. I was weird about it, but you were just asking for your payment.” explained the count. “It is nothing amazing, really. You probably have twenty of ‘em, but I was traveling through the market, and I saw it, and I thought - do you know who would like this? Quaestor Valdemar - so, I got it. No big deal, ya know?”

From his bag, Lucio pulled out an adult human skull. Embedded in the eye sockets were large rubies that burned in the orange glow of the setting sun. The count placed his gift in Valdemar’s hand, who made quick note of the condition in which the skull was in. In short, it was nearly perfect. The dental work was most fascinating to Valdemar. Not a single tooth was crooked or missing. No sign of disease or decay. Whoever extracted this specimen knew what they were doing. Valdemar was so transfixed by the skull, they almost forgot Lucio was still in the room.

“Yeah, I thought you like that.” said Lucio as he leaned forward in his chair. “I got that off a guy who was selling all kinds of wild, kooky stuff.”

Valdemar was quiet as they studied the skull. They were far more impressed by the specimen itself than the embellishments. Gemology was not at the top of their list of the most appealing subjects, and frankly, they thought the rubies were rather gaudy.

As they pondered the feasibility of extracting the gemstones without damaging the bone, a visibly nervous Lucio shifted in his seat, uncomfortable with the silence between them.

“I -uh- I got it because the eyes remind me of your eyes.” said Lucio. As the words left his mouth, he instantly wished he had just swallowed them instead. He was not prepared for Valdemar's undivided attention. Their eyes were fixed on Lucio. Their expression was blank. Their entire form was eerily motionless. He immediately felt the need to elaborate. “Ya know, because the rubies are pretty - pretty like your eyes.”

To Lucio’s relief, the compliment was enough to break their stare. No one had ever called their eyes pretty before. Creepy. Unsettling. Unnatural. But never pretty. Pretty was a meaningless word. Pretty was objective. Pretty could not be measured. Pretty was unscientific. Yet, the word bounced around in their mind, unextrapolated and uncategorized. Valdemar wanted to dissect its meaning. They wanted Lucio to elaborate. What did it mean to have pretty eyes?

"Hey, is that thing broken?" asked Lucio. who had unknowingly grounded Valdemar from their slow spiral into the definition and interpretation of the word pretty.

"Pardon?" asked Valdemar.

"Did that bastard give me a busted skull?" asked Lucio gesturing to a fissure starting from the bottom of the eye socket across the cheekbone.

Realizing what the count was referring to Valdemar had to stifle a laugh. "No, that is a zygomaticomaxillary suture. You'll notice the second one, right here." They turned the skull to allow Lucio to see the other fissure reflected on the other cheekbone.

"Oh, so it's okay then? It's not broken?" asked Lucio.

"This specimen is in excellent condition." reassured Valdemar. A moment passed between them before the quaestor softly cleared their throat, and managed a polite thank you to the count. They fully intended to investigate the skull further for any clues of what may have lead to the specimen’s demise. They loved a good mystery. Afterwords, it would look lovely in their display cabinet - pretty ruby eyes and all.

“Right, so that guy I got this skull from. He has other things too. Goopy things in jars. Dead things in jars. Dead things out of jars. Drawings of bones and meaty parts. Books. Does any of that sound interesting to you?” asked Lucio.

Valdemar considered Lucio’s offer before replying, “I suppose that I am always in search for new specimens to add to my collection. Additionally, this could be an opportunity to ask the merchant where the rest of the remain’s of this specimen can be found.”

Their response seemed to greatly please the count as he leaned back in his chair. For the past few nights, he had done nothing but party - which he loved to do, and would surely want to do again - but sitting with Valdemar, as the sun lowered into the horizon felt nice. Not to mention, they knew a lot, which Lucio appreciated. Having them around could be quite helpful to keeping his kingdom. Additionally, he was curious as to what was under their bandages. His money was on horns, but it would be fun to confirm his suspicions.

“Great, I’ll take you down there sometime.” said Lucio. “And, if you see anything you like, consider it yours.”

While material possessions never interested Valdemar, the idea of discovering something new was quite alluring. Perhaps, the merchant had a sealed jar of an entirely forgotten disease, or maybe they would uncover an ancient tomb that described a real account of an unsolved death of an entire village. The more they thought about it, the more exciting the prospect became.

“Would now be an appropriate time?” asked Valdemar who had moved to the edge of their seat. Their body was stiff with anticipation, as they leaned over ever so slightly towards him. A coy smile spread on Lucio’s face. He knew the moment he agreed, Valdemar would be sprinting for the door. Frankly, it seemed cruel to make them wait another moment for his answer.

“I’ll have someone fetch two cloaks and a carriage.”

END.

[mnemosyne-musing]

mine eye and heart are at a mortal war (river/ten)

Care for some Christmas shopping? X

 The Doctor stared at the message in front of him. Five words followed by a set of coordinates. A smile started to curl his lips involuntarily.

 “Well,” he said to himself, his feet already carrying him back towards the console, “I suppose a bit of Christmas shopping wouldn’t hurt.”

 Pulling down the levers as the TARDIS dematerialised and hurtled through the vortex, he allowed himself a brief glance in the mirror. Just to check his tie. And his hair. Because it wouldn’t do to look too scruffy for festive shopping. That was all.

Pushing those thoughts aside as the TARDIS landed, he idly wondered what else River would have in store for him. She didn’t quite seem like the type of person to just summon him for a spot of festive shopping. No, there must be something else happening he decided as he strode over to the door. Funny how that thought was not nearly as terrifying as it had been only so very recently.

 He pulled open the door and stepped out, looking around him. He’d landed in a snow-covered alley in what looked like a corner of an enormous open-air Christmas market. Stepping outside and shutting the door, he took a few steps, glancing around him more closely.

 He spotted her almost immediately. The first stall was a bar serving various festive concoctions by the looks of things. She was perched on a barstool at the end, sipping from a cocktail glass and flicking idly through her diary.

 Shoving his hands in his pockets, he suppressed the grin that had spread automatically over his face and sauntered forward.

 “Rivah!” he called out as he approached.

 She turned at that and he hesitated for a moment as he was sure he caught just the tiniest flash of disappointment across her face before it vanished and was replaced by a smile.

 “Doctor,” she replied, “Fancy seeing you here!”

  He shook himself mentally as he approached her. Surely, he had just imagined that. She’d always been pleased to see this version of him before. Well, apart from that first time but… No, he didn’t think about that. Not now.

 He paused a few feet away as she stood up gracefully from the barstool. She was wearing a dark blue trench coat, cinched tight across her waist with the collar turned up against the chill in the air. As she stashed her diary away in a pocket, his gaze took in the blood red high heels she was wearing. Not quite the footwear he’d expected for Christmas shopping but if anyone could browse in sky-high heels, he suspected the woman in front of him was it.

 As if sensing his train of thought, River gave a nonchalant shrug. “I’ve just come from a party,” she said by way of explanation, “Shall we?” she added, nodding to the market.

 Looking around him in more detail as they started to wander among the stalls, the Doctor took a deep sniff of the crisp air.

 “Is this…” he mumbled, before sticking his tongue out, “Is this Arctos IV?”

 “Yes, it is,” River nodded, “Biggest Christmas market this side of the galaxy. Best spot for some last-minute shopping!”

 He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at her. “It’s also home to the largest collection of precious jewellery in this side of the galaxy.”

 “Is it?” River asked, her face a picture of innocence.

 He paused in his stride and grasped her elbow, pulling her around to face him slightly. “River, is that why you’re here?” he asked her as she rolled her eyes at him, “These jewels are not something to be trifled with.”

 “Doctor dear,” she replied with another roll of her eyes, “I am not here to drag you into a jewel heist. Now, come along. I want to look at the tree decorations.”

 However, it appeared that someone else was on a jewel heist at that particular time. That and together with a subsequent stand-off and misunderstanding between the local constabulary and three hours later, the Doctor found himself in a small holding cell with River Song in the local jail.

 Pacing the small cell, he tugged at his collar. Unlike most jails, this one seemed particularly warm. Not that River seemed terribly affected, still bundled up in her trench coat and looking rather nonchalant despite their predicament.

 “Are you sure you didn’t have anything to do with this?” he asked her again as he futilely rattled the door which remained firmly bolted. River simply arched an eyebrow at him in response and he felt a faint thrill of irritation run through him at the gesture. Ever since he had arrived, he had struggled to shake off the slight niggly feeling at the back of his mind that he wasn’t quite the version of himself that River had had in mind when she sent the note.

 He raked his gaze over her as she leaned against the dirty prison wall, casually inspecting her nails. Well, he thought indignantly, he didn’t have to put up with this attitude. He had plenty of other things he could be doing.

 “Why did you really summon me here anyway?” he demanded, watching her closely as she flicked her gaze up towards him, “You haven’t done any Christmas shopping.”

 River looked up at him for a long moment, her head tilted slightly to one side before she finally answered. “I wanted to give you your Christmas present.”

 He perked up at that. “A present?”

 She reached into her pocket and retrieved something before chucking it to him.

 “A snow-globe?” he said, slightly nonplussed as he looked at the fairly ordinary, small orb in his hands, “Well, that’s…umm, that’s lovely.”

 “You’re welcome, sweetie,” River murmured with a faint smirk playing around her lips.

 There was something about her tone that made him pause and look at her again, his gaze dropping to her midriff as she subconsciously smoothed a hand over the fabric of her coat. Stalking towards her, he crowded her space as she looked up at him in surprise.

 “Don’t lie to me River,” he warned, his voice dropping lower as he leaned in further, “What’s really going on?”

 “Nothing, I…”

 “I don’t believe you,” he cut in as she blinked up at him, a look of irritation passing ever so briefly over her features before vanishing, “This is something to do with those jewels going missing isn’t it?”

 “No, Doctor! Now, I admit, that the timing doesn’t look great, but…”

 “You’ve stashed it under that coat, haven’t you?” he interrupted triumphantly, leaning further into her personal space, “That’s why you won’t take it off!”

 She rolled her eyes at him, this time doing little to disguise the look of annoyance on her face.

 “No!” she insisted, “I have not.”

 “Prove it!” the Doctor retorted smugly, leaning one palm on the wall next to her head. A feeling of satisfaction rose inside him as she glared outright back at him. He wasn’t quite sure who River Song was, although he had more than a sneaking suspicion, but she clearly didn’t know him quite as well as she claimed if she thought she could pull a fast one on him like this. “Take it off!”

 “No!”

 “Why not?”

 “I don’t want to!”

 “Funny that,” he glared back at her now, “You know, I don’t appreciate this, River. I don’t know what I do in the future that makes you think you can just click you fingers and I’ll appear to do your bidding but let me tell you…”

 “Fine!” she snapped suddenly, cutting off his rant just as he was building up a head of steam, “But on your own head be it and don’t you dare tell me off for this when you’re older!”

 “When I’m older?” he frowned at her in confusion as her hand moved to the belt on her coat, “Why would I tell you off when I’m…” he trailed off as she untied the belt and let her coat hang open, “Oh!”

 He felt his mouth go dry immediately as his gaze dropped. Instead of a fancy cocktail dress that he’d been expecting, she was instead dressed only in a matching ruby red, lacy bra and knickers, both adorned with a tiny bow in the shape of a sprig of holly. He swallowed heavily as his eyes traced greedily over the curves of her body and down to the high heels on her feet, his trousers starting to tighten uncomfortably. Good gods, but she was perfect. Not even his imagination on lonely nights had managed to conjure up this vision accurately.

 “Merry Christmas, sweetie,” River murmured huskily, a small grin playing around the edges of her lips as he finally dragged his gaze up to meet hers and she pulled her coat back around her, “Sorry for the spoilers. Now that we’ve cleared that up though,” she added, holding up her wrist and pulling the sleeve back to reveal a vortex manipulator, “How about we get out of here?”

 (Ten minutes or 250 years later)

 River let out a sigh as the lift door pinged to the penthouse suite. She had dropped the Doctor off at the TARDIS and had gently refused his stammering, blushing offer of a lift before telling him she had reserved the penthouse in the swankiest hotel and fully intended to make use of the jacuzzi en-suite and room service before sending him on his way.

 She knew she had been a bit reckless to do what she’d done but she couldn’t quite bring herself to fully regret it. The look on his face as he’d realised what was really under her coat was worth it alone. She was dealing with younger and younger versions of him these days and really, who could blame a girl for trying to have a little fun when she could. It certainly made the long, lonely, frustrating nights a bit more bearable.

 As she entered the suite, the hair on the back of her neck prickled. There was someone else here. Her hand automatically went to the blaster in her pocket.

 “Hi honey,” a familiar voice called out from behind her, “I’m ho- ho- home!”

 A feeling of relief and joy washed over her. Turning round slowly, River took in the sight of her husband, lounging on the sofa, a Santa hat perched jauntily on his head. “And what time do you call this?” she asked archly, biting her lip to repress the urge to beam at him.

 He leapt up from the sofa and shrugged, smirking at her. “Better late than never?” he offered with a grin as he closed the distance between them, “Now,” he said as he stopped just in front of her, “Do I finally get my Christmas present?”

 River looked up at him as he gazed at her, his eyes darkening as they flitted down her body and back up again, “Well,” she murmured, reaching out and sliding her hands slowly up his chest and looping them around his neck, “That depends.”

 The Doctor arched an eyebrow at her, his hands dropping to toy with the belt of her coat. “Depends on what?”

 “Have you been a good boy this year or not?” she whispered huskily as she leant into him.

 “Oh,” he replied with a grin as his hands worked the belt loose and her coat fell open, “I’ve been very good!”

 “Well then Doctor,” she murmured as his hands snaked around her waist and pulled her against him, “Merry Christmas!”

 ---

[xiaomoxu]

LUCIEN - Setting up Stall Date Part 3 and 4 (Christmas Date)

SPOILER ALERT!!

This is Christmas Date 2020 from CN server which hasn't been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler.

Brace yourself for sweet moment from Lucien and MC ☺

I'm doing this translation for personal reason, so I'm sorry if there's some mistranslation. Kindly tell me if you found some :) feel free to read it~ ^^

I used Lucien CN name on it, Xu Mo.

Read the previous part here

PART 3

I was stunned for a second, then looked back and saw Xu Mo looking at the surrounding environment naturally.

Xu Mo: I like the decoration of this shop.

I blinked slowly and suddenly realized that he was rehearsing the scene of receiving customers with me.

Xu Mo: Miss, is there something on my face? You seem to be staring at me all the time.

Xu Mo's sudden "trick" was like a light feather, gently and just right to sweep away the tension in my heart.

I breathed out gently and took the wish card on the table to show him.

MC: Welcome!

MC: You can exchange any item for our wish card, write your wish and hang it on the Christmas tree in front of the door.

MC: Half an hour before the end of the market, we will select a lucky person to fulfill their wish.

Xu Mo: Do I have to exchange an item?

He spoke softly, then looked thoughtfully at the clock on the wall.

Xu Mo: It seems that the time is just right.

Before I could understand what he meant, I heard a slight noise behind me.

I turned my head when I heard the sound, something in the fireplace was slowly falling down the smokeー

A beautiful gift box hung from the end of the balloon and fell down, and finally stopped firmly on the ground.

MC: This is...?

MC: A gift from a Santa Claus who has not received professional training for MC.

I was pleasantly surprised to pick up the slap-sized gift box and shook it lightly, vaguely feeling that it was a square thing.

I was about to pull off the streamer, the bell at the door made a pleasant sound, and a young girl appeared before our eyes

Seeing the real guests come in, I carefully put the gifts -that I had no time to unpack- in my pocket, looked at Xu Mo and took a deep breath.

MC: I'm going by first!

When I brushed past Xu Mo, he seemed to encourage me and lightly squeezed the palm of my hand.

I turned my head and blinked at him, took the wish card and walked to the girl, explaining the rules of the wish house with ease.

The girl quickly showed a curious expression and took out a piece of chewing gum from her pocket.

Girl: Is this also can be exchanged?

I nodded enthusiastically and gave her the wish card in my hand.

Thinking of the "exercise" that had just been interrupted, I picked up another wish card and put it in Xu Mo's hand.

MC: Fulfill the rules of the Wish House, this is the wish card you just exchanged.

Xu Mo smiled and took the card and wrote. I just wanted to look up, but he turned around and gently pinched my cheek.

Xu Mo: Rather than taking a peek, I hope you selected it.

After speaking, he hung the wish card on the Christmas tree at the door of the wish house.

After a while, more tourists poured into the store. After explaining the rules again and again, everyone took out their belongings in exchange for wish cards.

Tourist A: This is the leaf I picked up from the ground, Can I change it?

Tourist B: And me, this is chocolate!

Tourist C: Is this a charity event?

Seeing the "business booming" in the store, and the excitement in my heart lasted for a long time.

MC: Please put the items to be exchanged with me, and then go to the side to receive your wish card.

Tourist D: Lady Boss, can this be changed too?

When I heard the two words "Lady Boss", I subconsciously turned my head and bumped Xu Mo's eyes into fullness.

He handed the card in his hand to the tourists in front of him naturally.

Xu Mo: Of course, please pick up your wish card from me.

I tried my best to suppress the rising corners of my mouth and put the things exchanged by tourists into the storage box.

Soon, the last wish card was also hung on the Christmas tree.

At this time, the Christmas tree has been clothed with a wish, and the layers of cards carry everyone's wishes.

Thinking that behind these different wishes, there is a person who is thinking about it, and there is a warm feeling in my heart.

Time passed quickly, and after a while, many familiar faces came back again in front of the door, which seemed to remind me that it was time to draw my wish card.

After checking the clock on the wall, I walked to the Christmas tree with Xu Mo and waved enthusiastically.

MC: Time is up, now we are about to pick up today's lucky ones!

MC: To ensure fairness and justice, I will blindly draw a wish card with my eyes closed and three circles!

After that, I closed my eyes in the undulating cheers, and countless cards slid across my fingertips, making a rustling sound.

After a few laps, after pulling off a card in the dark, I slowly opened my eyes

"Last year we were lucky enough to encounter mistletoe, so what will we encounter this year?

PART 4

Such a familiar handwriting, I almost recognized it without hesitation.

I turned my head to look at Xu Mo beside me, his brows and eyes curled, as if he already knew the result.

Xu Mo: It seems, I have always been lucky with you.

Xu Mo turned his head slightly, leaving a faint voice in my ear.

The butterfly kiss under the mistletoe appeared in my mind, as if the touch at that time was still between my lips.

Until my thoughts were interrupted by the sounds around me.

Tourist: What is it, everyone is so curious, let's announce it soon!

I looked at the content on the card, and after hesitating for a few seconds, I took a deep breath and read it out.

Sure enough, everyone was at a loss when they heard it, but it didn't take long for them to shout in excitement.

Tourist: Whose wish is this, hurry up and claim it!

Suddenly, Xu Mo held the palm of my hand and shook it gently in the air.

MC: It's mine.

As soon as Xu Mo's words fell, the surroundings boiled and several tourists pointed towards him.Tourist: The owner of Wish House!

Tourist B: What a coincidence! If she didn't close her eyes and rotate three times, I would really think it was a black box operation!

The surrounding voices fluctuated, and most of them were for Xu Mo to explain the meaning of the wish card. I hesitated and was about to divert the topic, but Xu Mo spoke first.

Xu Mo: I believe that when everyone writes down their wishes, they will think of the person they care about the most.

Xu Mo: Therefore, for me, the meaning of this wish is also a secret in my heart.

Xu Mo: Sorry, I can only reveal that much.

Xu Mo: Let this secret be known only to me and my "Lady Boss".

After the words fell, the tourists put on a meaningful smile and kept blessing us.

Subsequently, the Wish House gradually returned to its original appearance under the continuous blessings...

Finally, only me and Xu Mo were left.

(CG karma included as well)

Xu Mo came to me with two cups of hot drinks and sat next to me.

I took the cup and took a breath, there was a warm stream slid into my stomach. After I completely relaxed, I picked up the gift box in my pocket.

MC: There were too many people just now, and there was no chance to open it....

MC: It's done now. I want to open it when there are only two of us.

Xu Mo: I hope you will not be disappointed.

I shook my head in disapproval, and carefully removed the wrapping paper.

A beautiful snowflake specimen appeared before my eyes.

Every small branch extends from a flawless angle, like a work of art that cannot be reproduced.

MC: This is...?

Xu Mo: It comes from the first snow of the year.

Xu Mo: I was in the office that day and when I got back to my senses, I found myself standing in the snow.

Xu Mo: Suddenly I wondered if you would have the same regrets as me.

Xu Mo: "It would be nice if I could be by your side at this time."

Xu Mo: So I kept this moment.

MC: I'm just like you, thinking it would be nice if you were by my side at this time...

I lowered my head and rubbed my palms gently with my fingertips along the lines of the snowflakes, wanting to impress deeply in my heart.

MC: Xu Mo, I like this gift very much, especially...

It turns out that even when we are not around, we still have the same thoughts.

Although the movements of my hands are gentle, the surging in my heart has already turned over and over again.

MC: Xu Mo, now let me fulfill my wish for you.

MC: This is what I have always wanted to do for you, and it is also the original inspiration for Wish House.

I got up and walked to the window, hanging the "snowflakes" in my hand there. Then he raised Xu Mo's hand and walked to the shop window outside the door.

MC: Last year you told a legend under the mistletoe..

MC: Now I want to tell you a legend under "The Witness of the Window".

MC: In fact, no matter when and where, as long as two people care about each other, it is the most romantic legend.

In the slow confession, I kept looking deeply at Xu Mo, and his eyes followed my words, with shining brilliance flowing.

MC: So we have already realized this most romantic legend.

After speaking, I stood on my tiptoe and slowly tilted towards Xu Mo, and the breath of each other kept approaching.

Suddenly, the craze spread on my lips, soft and infatuating.

The cold snowflakes covered our body and then quickly dissipated on the hot skin. The Christmas music rang out in the sky also disappeared in my ears.

I don't know how long it took, he finally let me go slowly.

Xu Mo: If I had known it earlier, you did this to fulfill my wish.

Xu Mo: I might write a more "excessive" wish.

The corners of my mouth couldn't help but rise, turning my head to his ear and whispering.

MC: After today is over, the Wish House will be in my heart, always open for you.

The smile in Xu Mo's eyes grew deeper and deeper, the next second he stretched out his hand and hugged me into his arms.

-END-

[takadasaiko]

Movie Night (a Veronica Mars one-shot)

Part of the Spanning Years. Continents. series of one-shots set between the VM movie and S4.

FFN II AO3

Warning: While my guess is that most people have seen Top Gun, I didn't see it until just a few years ago for the first time, so I feel like I should mention there are some spoilers in here for the movie.

Summary: In attempt to try quell some of the awkward tension between her two best friends and her boyfriend since his return from deployment, Veronica declares a movie night.

Movie Night

It had been a long time coming and a much needed event, even if not easily planned. It should have been. Movie nights weren't complicated. At least not for normal people, but Veronica Mars had tossed normal back out the window when she'd returned to Neptune.

The first step had been getting all parties involved to admit that the awkward tension needed to stop. Both Mac and Wallace had voiced their concerns when she had first come back to help Logan pick a lawyer and then stayed to help in the investigation, but when he had shipped out the subject was dropped. Out of sight, out of mind. That only worked as long as he was out of town, but since he'd been back there was a strange vibe in Mars Investigation every time he dropped by, and the crazy thing was it wasn't coming from her dad.

Mac would stumble around the conversation, managing to make even the most mundane of topics painful as if she were keeping a lid so tight over her own thoughts that nothing coherent was making it through when she was speaking to him. She had even called him Not-Piz at one point when she thought he was out of earshot. Spoiler alert: he hadn't been, and Veronica had to hear about it way more than she preferred.

Wallace was marginally better, but he always seemed to be waiting for the relationship to implode in some firestorm of chaos kicked off by one or maybe even both of them. Not that that was entirely unfair. He'd had a ringside seat to their on-again-off-again relationship during high school and college, but still not something you'd like hanging between one of your best friends and your boyfriend.

And it didn't help that Logan had always met tense situations with an offhanded quip and a sharp remark, especially if he felt even remotely attacked.

Getting all of them into a space where they could take a breath was the goal, and that led to the second step: figuring out what to do about it. The consensus was a movie night. They'd pick something everyone liked, have a pizza and some drinks, and give Mac and Wallace a chance to get better acquainted with Logan and vice versa. A lot had changed in nine years and - even if she'd never admit it out loud - Veronica wanted two of the most important people in her life to see what she saw in the man she loved.

Finally, the third step had been finding a time that worked for all four of them and that had been where the real hang up had happened. After nearly two weeks of missed nights - not just on Veronica's end, thank you very much. Logan has gotten stuck on base one night and Wallace on campus for some kind of planning committee another - they finally landed on a Friday night in which none of them had plans or last minute mishaps. And people say miracles don't happen.

The pizza had just been delivered and Veronica was dancing around Logan in the kitchen when the knock came and she heard Mac call out, "We come bearing booze!"

"Just the four words I was waiting to hear," Veronica cheered as she pulled the door open to reveal her two best friends with bags of what were likely filled with beer and snacks of choice to go with the pizza.

"We realized after we got there that neither of us knows what kind of beer Logan drinks, and someone doesn't answer her texts," Wallace said pointedly.

"I like the kind with alcohol in it," Logan deadpanned from the kitchen where he was pulling down plates and a bowl for chips.

Wallace feigned shock. "Oh, so the ginger beer wasn't what we were going for?"

"Only if we're adding Vodka. Good to see you, man. Mac."

"Hey, Logan."

Logan cracked a smile and Veronica pointed at him before the quip could dance off his tongue. "Behave."

He shrugged at that and dropped it, receiving a quirked eyebrow from Mac. "It's like you've got him trained."

"He just knows what happens if he brings up the Not-Piz thing one more time."

She grimaced at that. "I swear I didn't mean it to come out that way."

"Which way is that?" Logan asked, his tone still light as he grabbed a bowl of chips in one hand and the oversized pizza in the other and set both on the kitchen counter for them to dig into. He leaned over to peck a quick kiss against Veronica's forehead. "You said it, not me."

"Yeah yeah," she grumbled, swatting at home as he bobbed quickly out of reach.

Mac made a face and dug into the bag she'd brought in. "On any other note, I found this amazingly tasty cider down at the corner market last week for anyone who's a fan."

"Oh, love a good apple cider," Veronica said, reaching for them.

"They're pear, actually."

She risked a glance at Logan who was loading up his plate and managing to do an excellent impersonation of someone who had not been listening. "Yeah, let's pass on those."

Mac's excitement turned to instant confusion. "You love pears."

"Logan's… allergic." Well she was usually a better liar than that, but how do you explain away how someone couldn't even smell a specific fruit after a childhood trauma without referencing said trauma?

"Well he doesn't have to have one," Mac pointed out.

"It's the smell," Logan volunteered from where he was taking a seat on the floor to leave the couch open, plate of pizza balanced on one bent knee and his beer set on a coaster on the coffee table. "Every time I smell it I puke. Not so fun for movie night."

Wallace shot him a skeptical look from where he was circling around the couch to take a seat on the opposite side. "Okay, there's gotta be a story there."

"There is."

"And in the spirit of getting to know each other a little better….?"

Veronica opened her mouth to tell Wallace to drop it, but she saw Logan tilt his head curiously. She and Mac took their seats on the small couch and Veronica waited to see how he'd handle it. He was a big boy and this was about breaking down some walls. While she didn't think that would likely include stories about Aaron's abusive nature that Logan didn't like sharing with even her if he could help it, it would only keep things awkward if it looked like she was fielding questions all night.

Logan pulled in a deep breath and popped the top off of his beer. "My dad tried to force feed me twelve pears when I was a kid."

"All at once?" Mac asked, her nose screwed up and her tone suggesting she was looking for the piece of the puzzle she was missing.

"Yeah, one right after another."

"Wouldn't you choke?"

"Yep. Hence the reaction to them. What'd we decide on?" Logan grabbed the remote like he'd just made an offhand comment about it being sunny outside.

There was a beat of shocked silence as both Wallace and Mac seemed to catch onto what wasn't being said and Wallace cleared his throat. "You gonna hate me if I say Top Gun?"

Logan flashed a wide grin. "Love that movie."

And just like that, the weight lifted as they flipped it on. Veronica watched and listened as both of her friends asked questions about Logan's job. What was his call sign, what kind of planes did he fly, if anything in the movie was actually accurate, and the list went on. In turn he seemed genuinely interested to hear how Wallace had ended up back at Neptune High as a teacher and a few fun stories Mac had since she'd come to work at Mars Investigations. All in all, the evening was going a lot smoother than Veronica would have banked on and all three seemed to be really trying. Not just trying. Actually enjoying it. Who knew?

"You know we have someone come in from the Naval Station every year for the career fair," Wallace said as he returned with fresh beer bottles carefully balanced. "If you're here, we should have you in this year."

"Oh yeah. Clemmons would love that," Logan chuckled and leaned back against the couch so that he could tilt his head against Veronica's leg. She refocused on the movie that she hadn't really been watching and felt her chest tighten a little at the scene. Everybody knew it, no matter how long it had been. The difference was that the last time she'd watched it the man she loved hadn't been flying fighter jets for a living.

Logan seemed to sense the shift and reached back his hand finding hers.

"You said you're testing the jets to make sure things aren't broken, right?" Mac prompted.

"Yeah. The mechanics need a certain level of field testing to run diagnostics."

"To make sure that doesn't happen?" Her question was perfectly timed with the sickening crunch of Goose's neck as the seat tried to eject him faster than the canopy opened.

"Among other things." Veronica felt Logan adjust his hold on her hand before pulling her knuckles to his lips for a kiss.

The two pilots on the television parachuted down towards the water, one limp, and Veronica squeezed his hand before standing. "Let me grab that," she mumbled as she snapped up their plates.

"I wasn't…. okay cool. Guess I'm done now," Wallace grumbled.

She barely slowed down as she dropped the plates on the counter and shot off towards the bathroom. Door closed, she leaned against it and closed her eyes, struggling to get the image out of her head. She hated the possibility that something like that could happen to Logan and she hated even more that there was absolutely nothing she could do to protect him from it.

From the other side she could hear their muffled voices.

"Okay, what just happened?" Wallace sounded even more confused now.

"It's, uh…." There was a short clip of silence and Veronica imagined Logan flicking those long fingers of his at the TV. "I didn't think about that part when we started it."

"Yeah, me either," Mac said. "She doesn't talk about it, so I just…. I guess that kind of stuff could happen to you, couldn't it?"

"Could. It's not like either of us have particularly safe jobs. Give me a sec?"

Veronica sucked in a breath, moved to the toilet and flushed it. She then flipped the water on to further sell the charade and was grabbing the towel by the time the soft knock came at the door. She opened it to find Logan shooting her an apologetic look. "What's up?" she asked, hating the small shake in her voice.

"You okay?"

"Just had to pee," she lied, and while her tone was flippant she hoped he caught the unspoken request. This didn't need to be a big deal. She didn't want to make this a big deal.

"Ah," he breathed out and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead as if he were telling her he'd gotten the message loud and clear. "You're gonna miss the good part at the end."

"I wasn't in there that long," she huffed, but could see where one of them had fast forwarded over the rest of Goose's death scene and the movie was paused at the glory moment towards the end.

"Sure you were. Hence the checking," he answered with a tilted smile and a quick wink. He slipped his hand into hers and no one said a word as they rejoined to watch the end of the movie.

Despite pear cider and a moment that could easily be Veronica's worst fear played out in a movie, the rest of the evening could be counted a success. As the credits rolled and music played they laughed and teased and chatted until it was finally time to call it a night. Veronica was a little surprised to see Mac offer Logan the most awkward hug of all time and he gave her hell over it even as she pointedly said his name. Wallace lingered back and gave Veronica's arm a light nudge. "When'd your boy grow up?"

She snorted. "Sometime in the nine years between our freshman year at college and our ten year high school reunion. Sadly I can't take credit for that." She shot him a look. "You gonna finally stop giving me shit for dating him again?"

"Only because it might actually last this time."

"That's the plan."

His lips quirked up at the corners. "I'm happy for you, V."

The quip died in her throat and she found herself smiling instead.

They said their good nights and closed the door, locking it behind them. Logan turned towards her and she saw amusement in those brown eyes. "So, what's the verdict?"

"I'm afraid we're going to have to break up. Just no getting around it." She made it most of the way through the tease before her mouth betrayed her and she found herself fighting the smile.

"Uh-huh," Logan chuckled and leaned in, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers.

"I think this could become a thing."

"I'd be okay with that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Wallace is fun and Mac gives as good as she gets when she lets herself."

"Oh no. Am I going to be replaced as your verbal sparring partner?"

"Never," he promised and closed the gap between them.

Veronica wrapped her fingers up in his t-shirt, pulling him deeper into the kiss and felt his arms around her just before he hauled her up off her feet, pulling a surprised laugh from her as he carried her back to the bedroom. Yeah, she thought she could count this one as a success.

[this-is-a-podcast-fanblog]

another esteban fic

You thought I was done. 

Night Vale spoilers ahead for the recent episodes as well as for Spy In the Desert!

~~~

The Night Vale adoption agency is the most important place Cecil has been to in a long time. It’s also one singular office, about the size of a hotel bathroom, with a card table and folding chairs under a bright poster that says, “YOU CAN ADOPT! YOU WILL ADOPT! YOU HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO ADOPT!” A very tired-looking case worker in a black dress sits across the table picking at a Nature Valley granola bar with one of her hands. Her other two are typing across a laptop. 

“So,” she says, “adoption in Night Vale isn’t like other places.” 

“Of course.” Cecil smiles and glances at his husband, who, thankfully, doesn’t look too nervous. 

“Naturally, there are no cases of children that need to be adopted within the city.” She gives them a knowing look over her glasses. Carlos frowns in Cecil’s peripheral vision. 

“Why is that?”

“Children in need of adoption are adopted by the Hooded Figures,” Cecil explains in unison with the woman. 

Carlos shifts in his seat. “Um, is that a good idea? Are the kids safe there?” 

“Of course. They have regular health and safety inspections from the Sheriff’s Secret Police, the Night Vale Board of Family Services, and the GrubHub delivery guy.” The case worker raps her nails definitively on the desk. “Plus, the kids have an indoor waterpark to play in once they get home from school. They’re very happy.” 

Carlos lifts an eyebrow “But it’s proportionally impossible for a water park to fit in the dog par-”

“NOT ALL THINGS SHALL MAKE SENSE!” booms the case worker, and Carlos stops talking. “Now.” She collects herself and resumes her smile. “We’ll be adding you to a database of parents, since you’ve passed all of your inspections and filled out your paperwork. If there are children entered into the system, case workers will consider you to adopt based on the child’s needs and location. You’ll be getting a call from us soon.” 

Cecil beams. He squeezes Carlos’s hand under the folding table. Carlos’s warm, perfectly soft thumb slides over Cecil’s wedding ring, an adorable thing he’s been doing for years now. Little touches like that are why it’s so easy to love Carlos. Carlos is an incredible scientist and husband, and soon, he’s going to be an amazing father. They both will be. 

“If you have any questions?” The case worker’s first two arms tap her papers into a stack, while the third throws out her granola bar wrapper.

“How much notice will we get?” asks Carlos, who has a list of important parenting questions written down.

“At least 24 hours, in case you need to fly out of the city. Anything else?” 

“Do you think babies prefer ducklings or froggies?” asks Cecil, who has been nesting for the past few days. 

“Ducklings,” says the worker. “You two have a lovely day.” 

They pull into the parking lot of Buy Buy Baby Not Bye Bye Baby, the best baby supply store in town. Cecil turns off the engine. Neither of them unbuckle. For a while, they sit in the silence of the car, watching a shopping cart roll away across the parking lot and into some ornamental bushes. 

“We’re going to be dads,” says Carlos at length, breaking the silence. 

Cecil turns to look at him. “How are you feeling?” 

Carlos smiles, laughs, ducks his head. He’s so adorable. Even his awed laughter is perfect. “Cecil, I don’t have any scientific words for how I’m feeling - I don’t even think I can quantify it, you know? Cece.” He bites his smile, which has begun quivering. “I’m adopting a baby. With my husband. I just...”

“Never thought it would happen,” Cecil finishes. 

Carlos nods. Cecil unbuckles his seatbelt and leans over to kiss the bridge of Carlos’s nose above his glasses. 

“It is real,” he promises. “It’s really, really happening! And now we have to go buy some onesies while they’re still on sale!”

“I will not let anyone get to the onesies before me.”

“They’re OUR baby’s onesies!” Cecil proclaims as both of them get out of the car and run to grab a shopping cart. 

The store is crowded today, moms and dads and parents jostling each other through the well-stocked aisles of formula and plushies. They are not like the Palmer-Scientist husbands, whose combined years of exceptional journalism and groundbreaking science have made them especially smart. Cecil and Carlos have their strategy planned. Carlos pushes the cart down aisles in the exact order that they need. Cecil stands on the front of the cart, shouting things like, “Hey, new dads coming through! If you don’t get out of our way you’re homophobic!

Back at home, they drag their purchases into a currently-empty room. This room promises to become a nursery, just as soon as one of them works up the courage to build the IKEA crib. 

“You shouldn’t be able to buy an IKEA crib at Buy Buy Baby,” Carlos comments, as he begins unpacking a bag of stuffed animals. 

“You shouldn’t be able to buy a lot of things at Buy Buy Baby! Oh, did we remember the -”

“-bloodstone mobile? Yup! I have it right here.”

“I love you.” 

They turn on music and set up the nursery. Gravity in the town conveniently shuts off for 12 minutes, so they stick glow-in-the-dark stars to the ceiling. They hang up curtains. When gravity comes back they set up the changing station, with a mat on the top shelf, baby powder and boxes of diapers on the bottom shelf. Cecil is obsessed with the changing station. 

“It’s so CUTE!” He gestures to one of the cloth diapers. “Look how TINY this is!”

“Babies are very small! Did you know that a baby’s head makes up more than a quarter of their entire body length?”

“No way!” Cecil thinks about adding that to the Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner, but they’ve agreed together not to talk about their adoption on the radio. He places the dresser next to the changing station and places the equally tiny baby clothes into the drawers. Cecil already has matching outfits for all of the baby’s clothes. 

When Carlos gets frustrated over wrestling the IKEA crib, they take a snack break. They bring apple slices and peanut butter into the nursery, along with a bottle of wine, and sit on the floor to eat. 

“Did the case worker say whether our baby is male or female?” Cecil asks. 

Carlos pops an apple slice into Cecil’s mouth. “The concept of marketing color-coding to infants based on a gender they may not actually identify with is a capitalist tool to sell more baby clothes,” he says. “Also, it’s been scientifically proven that blue isn’t a more masculine color. And pink isn’t more feminine, it just isn’t.” 

“I know that. But we need to get our baby a Social Night Vale ID.” 

“Like a social security number?”

“More like a driver’s license. All kids under 18 have to have one, just in case they get arrested for not eating at Big Rico’s.” Cecil licks a smidge of peanut butter off of Carlos’s thumb. “Since not all kids can afford pizza, and so the law only applies to adults. It’s a get out of jail free card.”

“Huh.” Carlos frowns. “Even babies need one?”

“Yes. That’s the municipal decree.” Cecil stretches and refills his wine glass. “We can just put X on the form for now. City Council has to understand, I mean, we don’t even have the baby yet.”

“The baby,” Carlos repeats, like he’s savoring the word. “Our baby.” 

Cecil gives him a quick kiss. Carlos wraps both arms around him and pulls him close, the two of them tangling up on the floor, and they turn it into a long kiss. 

“I’m worried I won’t be a good dad, though,” Carlos murmurs as he sits up. 

Cecil dusts off his polka dot overalls. “I think being a dad is something no one starts off good at,” he says. “It’s like radio hosting. Or pouring out libations to the elder gods. It just takes a little time to get into practice. C’mon.” He tips his beret-capped head at the IKEA cabinet. “Let’s fight this thing some more.” 

A few days pass. Their nursery sits finished, though Cecil goes in every few hours to change the angle of a piece of furniture, or add another stuffed duckling to the pile of stuffed animals on a shelf. Carlos has added baby-proof handles to all of their doors, just in case the child they adopt is able to walk. “Did you know most babies take their first steps between nine and 12 months?” he says. “And then they start talking, like in little sentences, between 18 months and two years! But for some kids that kind of thing takes a little longer - I mean, I didn’t start talking until I was five. Or, some kids never learn to talk. And that’s okay!”

For the most part, they try to go about their normal lives. Guessing at what day they’ll get the call would only create anxiety. Cecil focuses on writing his shows and doing his outfits and makeup. “Babies need a lot of attention,” Carlos tells him. “We won’t have as much time for makeup or science or whatever.” 

“You’re learning a lot of scientific facts about babies,” Cecil comments as he laces up his hip-high boots. They’re boots so high that they can be worn as pants, though he’s put a skirt over them anyway, because fashion. 

Carlos nods. “Yeah. I’m... I’m worried, actually.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Worried that I’m not going to be as good of a dad as I want to be, you know? I want our baby’s life to be perfect.”

“Nothing is ever perfect,” Cecil assures him. Carlos nods, unconvinced. “I’m worried too, though. I understand. All we can do now is wait.” 

In the end, they don’t have to wait long. The Palmer-Scientists are curled up in bed, sound asleep, a week and a half after visiting the adoption agency, when Carlos’s phone starts ringing.” 

“Nhhh,” he mumbles. He tries to reach across Cecil to grab it and accidentally smacks his husband in the face. “I’m awake, I’m awake. Thanks, babe,” he adds as Cecil hands him the phone. “Hello?” Carlos sits up abruptly in bed. “Wait,” he says. “Really? Right now?”

“Put it on speaker.”

“Sorry, let me put it on speaker so Cecil can hear.” He fumbles with his phone through shaking hands. “Okay.” 

“Hello, Cecil,” says the case worker’s voice. “Can you get a flight tonight?”

Cecil can feel his heart hammering in his stomach, and in his brain, and all throughout his body, like somersaults of nerves racking his entire form. “You mean...?” 

“I’ve just received a call from the Children’s Hospital of Arizona,” the case worker continues. “They need an emergency adoption. A woman came in to their labor wing earlier this sick, but after giving birth, she fled. No one has seen her. She only left her baby, and a note saying she doesn’t want him.”

“W-why not?” Carlos asks. 

“Because he was premature. Initially, it looked like he wouldn’t survive for very long. Don’t worry,” she says as Cecil makes a cry of worry. “He’s been very sick, but has improved in the past few days. The doctors want him to leave the intensive care wing, but only if a family can take him in immediately and monitor his health. They also want a family that lives near a hospital. Fortunately, you meet all those conditions.” 

“He must be so scared,” Cecil whimpers, “All alone there.” 

“Which is why you need to get on the soonest flight you can. Tonight, if possible. From there, get a taxi or something to the hospital and check in at the maternal wing. And you’ll need an incubator at home, just as a precaution if he gets sick again. Okay?” 

Carlos nods and squeezes Cecil’s hand. 

“Okay. I’m looking forward to seeing you two in my office soon.” There’s a smile in the case worker’s voice. “With your son. Please call me if you need anything.”

“We will. Thanks.” 

Carlos hangs up. He sets down his phone on the bed and turns to Cecil, and when their eyes meet they both burst into tears. Cecil collapses into Carlos’s arms and buries his face in his shoulder, shaking. “Oh, my god, this is happening,” he whispers. “And-and he’s all alone, in Arizona, and he’s sick -”

“Yeah, and what if we can’t take care of him?” Carlos’s arms tremble. “If, if I’m a really terrible dad, and I make him even more sick? And he gets taken away from us? Or he grows up and he isn’t happy here, isn’t happy because I wasn’t good enough -”

“Carlos.” Cecil sits up and wipes his eyes. He cradles Carlos’s face in his hands. “Carlos, you are the most perfectly imperfect person, and husband, and you will be an amazing father. Okay? Like the case worker said, we’re right near the Night Vale hospital! We can help our son if he gets sick again.” Cecil sighs as Carlos keeps crying. “Sweetie...” 

This is new to him. Because when the town is falling apart or the grocery store stops existing or dragons sweep from the sky, Cecil has an answer for what Carlos doesn’t understand. Or when something in the world is confusing, Carlos has a scientific explanation for it. There are no explanations for learning, in the late hours of the night, that their future son is sick in another state, and that in the course of a few short hours, their entire life will change. 

Instead, Cecil cuddles Carlos closer and kisses the top of his head. “We will be okay,” he says. “And our son will be okay. I promise.” 

Carlos sniffles and dabs at his eyes with the sleeve of his nighttime lab coat. “B-but we don’t have an incubator.” 

“Okay... so only one of us will go to Arizona. You go, you know all the scientific facts about babies.” Carlos’s eyes go wide. “You do, Carlos. You know so much! And you’re better at leaving Night Vale, anyway.” The last time they tried to leave the town for a weekend getaway, Cecil kept teleporting back to Night Vale against his will. Aging did that to citizens. “You can do this, bunny. I know you can.” 

“I can do this.” 

“Yes, babe.” 

Carlos nods and takes a deep breath. “I’m going to go get our son,” he says. “And bring him home, safe.” 

“And I’m going to get an incubator and have his nursery all ready for him when you get back.” Cecil smiles. “This is exciting! Carlos, we’re finally going to have a baby! We’re going to raise a family together!”

“Yeah.” Carlos smiles and leans in to kiss Cecil. “Yeah, we are!”

They get up. Cecil packs an overnight bag for Carlos while Carlos packed a bag for the baby - diapers, formula, an outfit and a warm blanket for the plane. 

“Okay,” he said as he stuffed a blanket into the baby bag. “Do I have everything?”

“You’re forgetting your bag.” Cecil held it out. “This has an extra lab coat and your fidget magnets. Oh, and some snacks. Snacks are very important.”

“You are the best.” Carlos kissed Cecil’s cheek and took the bag. Then he drew a deep breath and looked around. “Well,” he said. “This is the last time we’ll be alone in our house for a while.” 

“Our entire life is about to change.” Cecil smoothed the lapel on Carlos’s lab coat. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come to the airport with you?” 

“No, I want you to sleep. We won’t be getting a lot of it, because on average, babies will wake up and cry two to three times a night, and they won’t go back to sleep until they’ve been comforted and fed.”

“That’s a good fact to know.” Cecil holds out his arms for one long hug. “I love you so, so much.”

“I love you too.” 

They break apart, kiss, hug again, break apart. “Okay,” says Carlos. “Okay.”

“Okay,” says Cecil. “Oh, wait!” He runs to the nursery and brings back one of the stuffed ducklings. “So he’ll have something to play with.” 

Carlos nods and tucks it into the baby bag. Cecil reaches up and gives him one last kiss. 

“I love you,” he says. “Bring our son home safe.” 

And then Carlos leaves, with the sound of a closing door and a revving car engine, and Cecil is alone in the house watching the lights of Carlos’s car fade through the window. He puts on one of Carlos’s lab coats, gets a blanket, and goes to the nursery. He double- and triple- checking that everything is in order. The sun-shaped clock on the wall proclaims that it is 3:12 AM. At eight, he will get up and drive into the shopping district for an incubator. 

For now, he curls up in the rocking chair. He watches the bloodstone mobile spin in a breeze that isn’t actually there. And, eventually, under the clock’s steady ticking, Cecil falls asleep in a coat that smells like his husband, in a room that will be his son’s.