#that she didn’t have to introduce me as her friend and she could openly say I’m her partner of 2+ years

[sincerelyyuu]

"in the end, it's still you." p2.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: you never thought the day would come where you would have to choose between your two best friends. but how do you say goodbye to someone who became one of your reasons for living? ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/warning: angst with tons of pining and heartbreak, sfw, heavy s2 spoilers, pet names, cursing, mentions of death ➼ wc: 3.1k words ➼ a/n: here's the anticipated part two of this fic! can definitely read this part on its own as a standalone, but highly recommend reading part one for the full angst effect ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three

You didn’t know how you got here. 

One minute you were on a mission. The next minute you were a fugitive on the run.

When Suguru and you left for the village, you didn’t expect to be standing in front of a caged cell that held two little girls. They were twins and looked to be no more than the age of five. Crouching down to match their eye level, you saw just how disheveled and scared they were between the bars. Clothes tattered, skin covered in dirt, eyes wide with fear. How cruel.

“Hello. I’m (y/n). That’s my friend Suguru,” you introduced softly, not wanting to spook them. Suguru nodded at them in greeting with a smile. “What are your names?”

“Nanako,” the light brown haired twin answered in a near whisper.

“Mimiko,” her black haired twin counterpart responded after.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you smiled, leaning closer to them to whisper so that only they could hear. “Let’s get you out of here quickly, yeah?”

The girls looked back at you with surprise before a small smile appeared on their faces, nodding. You and Suguru were the first people to show them any form of kindness in this village. Unfortunately, their happiness was short-lived.

“These two are crazy! They used their mysterious powers to attack the villagers, right?” a male villager accused them both.

Furrowing your brows, you exchange glances with Suguru who shared the same sentiments as you. You both had already exterminated the cause of those incidents when you arrived.

“No, it’s not them,” Suguru exhaled, a hand on his head as he massaged his temple in disdain.

Ignoring his words, an older woman added more fuel to the fire, “My granddaughter was nearly killed by these two, too!” 

Nanako defended, “That’s because she-”

“Shut up, you monsters! I knew we should have killed you two as babies!”

“Watch your mouth,” you snapped, maneuvering your body to shield the twins from the vile woman. The girls immediately sought refuge behind you.

You couldn’t believe the words coming from them openly talking about killing the girls when they were sitting right there. You felt so sorry for the two. Based on what the villagers were saying, these poor children most likely hadn’t received an ounce of love in their lives. Instead they were treated like animals.

It was just like you to put yourself in harm's way to protect others with no hesitation. It was one of the reasons that made Suguru fall in love with you. It didn’t come as a surprise to him to see Nanako and Mimiko already taking a liking to you. 

Looking at the three of you, something in Suguru snapped. Lowering beside you, he offered you a gentle smile.

“Do me a favor. Once I step out, let the girls out and cover their ears. Stay here. I’ll come back for you three when I’m done,” he instructed.

“What? Why?” you asked in confusion. “Sugu… What are you about to do?”

He ruffled your hair playfully. “I’ll be right back. Now be a good girl for me.”

You looked at him wearily. There was something different about him right now that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You also didn’t like how vague he was being. Still, you hesitantly agreed. Satisfied, Suguru stood up to face the villagers in the room.

“Everyone, shall we step outside for a moment?” he asked, a sickeningly sweet smile gracing his face. 

You were prepared for when you successfully freed the girls from their confines with Mimiko and Nanako instantly falling into your awaiting arms. Instructing them to cover their ears, you held them close and placed your hands behind their heads, letting them rest their faces against your chest.

“It’s okay, I got you. You’re safe now,” you promised them. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

What you weren’t prepared for was the fiery blue flames that illuminated the village and the screams that ensued after.

A few days later, it was a beautiful day in Shinjuku. People were going on about their business as they maneuvered among the busy streets. The air was full of chatter with the hustle and bustle of city life. 

“I’ll go ahead and ask. Any chance the charges are false?” Shoko inquires with a smile.

Suguru shakes his head at the female sorcerer, “Nope. Unfortunately not.”

Shoko takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing white whips of smoke that dissipate into the air. “You know what, I can expect you to be able to pull off this kind of thing. But did you really have to drag (y/n) with you too? Where is she anyway?”

Suguru fights the urge to grin at the mention of your name. Crossing his arms, he peers up at the clouds drifting across the azure sky. “She’s-”

“-right here.”

The two turned their heads at the sound of your voice as you approached them, a bag full of pastries in tow. You waved shyly at Shoko who was relieved to see you unharmed. You were one of the few female friends that she had at school. It came as a big surprise to her when she heard the news of your shared sentence with Suguru. It didn’t seem like you to commit mass murder. Then again, neither did Geto.

“There’s Ms. Partner-in-crime. I was just about to ask Geto why this little situation came to be,” Shoko filled you in.

You shift awkwardly in place, unable to find the right words to respond. Sensing your discomfort, Suguru swiftly answers back, “I’m going to create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers. (y/n) here is the lucky girl who gets to help me.”

“Is that so?” the brunette laughs. “I don’t get it.”

“We’re not children. I’m not holding out hope that everyone will understand,” Suguru responds. He glances over at you as you stare into the crowd and zone out of the conversation. As long as you were beside him, he didn’t care if no one else understood. At least he had you.

Shoko whipped out her cell and promptly entered a series of numbers before placing it to her ear. “Hey, Gojo? I found Geto and (y/n). Yeah, Shinjuku.”

Hearing Satoru’s name, your body immediately went into flight mode. Breath quickening, heartbeat accelerating, and anxiety swirling in your stomach. You felt like throwing up. You knew it was inevitable to see him when Suguru suggested going to Shinjuku for the day under the guise of buying treats for Nanako and Mimiko. But you weren’t sure you were ready to see him yet. What could you possibly even say to him after what happened?

Before your thoughts could spiral even more, you felt a warm hand slip into your left and the pastry bag removed from your right. Looking up, Suguru didn’t make eye contact with you, only squeezing your hand in reassurance. He always had a sixth sense for how you were feeling.

“Excuse us but we have somewhere to be. Goodbye, Shoko,” Suguru waves at her nonchalantly as if it were any other ordinary day and like he’d see her in class tomorrow.

She waves back and turns to make eye contact with you, an unreadable expression on her face. Before you could analyze it, Suguru gently tugs on your hand and leads you away with him and into the bustling crowd of Shinjuku. The two of you walked for a few minutes in silence before a familiar voice reached your ears.

“Explain yourselves.”

Stopping in your tracks, you felt a lump form in your throat. Your nails dug into Suguru’s hand, leaving red crescents upon his pale skin. Suguru tried not to flinch at the pain. He knew that this moment would be hard for you.

After receiving Shoko’s call, Satoru wasted no time and immediately teleported to Shinjuku in search of his two best friends. All he can think of is, why?  Why would you both do this? It didn’t make any sense. He needed answers and he wasn’t stopping until he got them. 

Among the sea of people, his eyes searched and searched until it finally landed on one of his targets. He didn’t need to see your face to know that it was you. After all, he had engrained every detail of you into his mind from the way you looked to the way you moved. Your name lingered on his lips, longing to call for you.

“You already heard from Shoko, right?” Suguru answered him back without turning around. “That’s all there is to it.”

Unhappy with his response, Satoru felt his blood begin to boil in anger. “So you’re just going to kill everyone that isn’t a sorcerer? Even your parents?”

Maybe it was the way your heartbeat was beating so loudly in your ears, but you could barely hear what the two men were saying despite being right there. You knew they were exchanging words but your mind refused to process them. Instead it focused on the way Satoru’s voice was plagued in confusion and betrayal. You and Suguru, his two closest friends, had betrayed him without a word.

“You’re going to kill all non-sorcerers and create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers? You know that’s impossible!” you heard Satoru bellow from behind you. 

“You could do it, couldn’t you, Satoru?” the black haired sorcerer retorted back, now facing the enraged male. “Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or does being the strongest make you Gojo Satoru?”

You felt a chill go down your spine from Suguru’s cold tone so different from the honey one he always used towards you. Was this the Suguru you’ve known until now? But then you remembered everything Suguru had gone through up until this point. Swallowing disgusting curse after curse with nothing to show for it for himself. Watching his friends and comrades die in front of him. You understood the shift in Suguru’s beliefs. 

That being said, you also understood where Satoru was coming from. You knew deep down that this wasn’t right. Innocent lives were taken to create a world that may not even be possible. However, there wasn’t anything you could do about it now. You were in too deep and if this was the hill you’ll die on, so be it. 

Frustrated with the conversation with Suguru, Satoru knew there was no changing that man’s mind. Suguru had zero regrets and had every intention of carrying out his new life goal. Shifting his focus to you, Satoru felt the anger clouding his vision slowly diminish, a sense of yearning overwhelming his senses.

His voice dropped to a low cry as he called out to you, “(y/n)...”

The moment your name left his lips, a wave of guilt settled into the pit of your stomach. You wish he hadn’t done that. In a perfect world, you would have turned around and ran into those strong arms that have held and protected you more times than you can count. You felt your resolve chipping away piece by piece.

But this world was far from perfect. You can never go back to the way things were. Still, you owed it to Satoru to properly say goodbye because you weren’t sure when you’ll ever see him again. 

You took a deep breath and stepped to turn around. Halfway through your turn, you felt Suguru’s grip on your hand tighten, looking at you in confusion and slight alarm. Were you changing your mind and leaving him? However, his tense shoulders eased when you squeezed his hand back in reassurance, communicating with your eyes that you weren’t going anywhere. Nodding his head, he let go of you.

What the fuck? Satoru thought to himself.

Watching the scene unfold between you two, he felt an insecure stinging pierce in his chest. His six eyes bored holes at your interlocked hands. An unsettling feeling gnawed at him at the fond look in Suguru’s eyes which stared directly into your own. It was the same way Satoru looked at you. 

Fuck. His best friend, Geto Suguru, was also madly in love with you.

“Satoru.”

Satoru could almost cry hearing you call his name. You took a few steps towards him, maintaining eye contact as you did so. He also took a step towards you but immediately halted when you raised your hand up to stop him from getting any closer. Standing a few feet from each other now in silence, you felt your heart break at the sight of your once confident best friend who now looked so small in your presence.

“...Why?” he asked, the tension growing thick in the air.

Fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you replied, “You don’t understand-”

“Then, make me understand!” Satoru shouted.

Storming directly to you, he stopped so that he stood inches away from your figure. One more step and he could pull you to him and away from whatever this was. It would be so easy. He stood before you with his infinity off, silently granting you the opportunity to reach out for him. He never had it on whenever he was with you. He trusted you to let his guard down because you made him feel safe.

Satoru continued to interrogate you as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.  “(y/n), I know you. I know you didn’t lift a finger to kill any of those people. You would never take the life of another if they didn’t deserve it. So, why are you doing this?”

“I can talk to the elders. I can convince them to reverse your sentence because you didn’t do anything. They’ll listen to me,” he begged you, voice quickening with every line. 

“Is it because I’m away all the time? I’ll stop taking on more missions or have them assign you with me. Just come home.”

He was beginning to ramble now as he felt himself grow more desperate to keep you. Satoru was never the type to get down on his knees for anyone except you. 

Throughout the years, he fell for you hard. You had the power to render him weak with just your smile, the air leaving his lungs at the way you took his breath away. Your calming presence grounded him and brought him back to reality whenever things became too intense. It was the way you understood his thoughts and feelings before he even knew of them. You held his heart in the palm of your hands and right now you were completely destroying him.

Against your better judgment, you caressed the left side of Satoru’s face. The man immediately leaned into your hand as he melted at your touch, placing his hand over yours and seeking your affection. Brilliant blue eyes filled with anguish met your sorrowful ones. 

“Toru,” you smiled bittersweetly at him. “I can’t. The moment I go back, they’d kill me in a heartbeat. It’s too late for me. At least this way I’ll be protecting you.”

“It’s supposed to be the other way around. I’m the one that’s supposed to be protecting you,” he argued back. “Sweets, this is insanity. You can’t possibly be okay with this. Do you honestly agree with him and this crazy non-sorcerer world bullshit?”

You let your hand fall from his face, watching him grimace from the action. “It doesn’t matter what I think. What’s done is done. I made a promise to Suguru that I’d be there for him.”

Satoru scowled, “And what about me, (y/n)? Don’t you see that you’re hurting me?”

That wasn’t fair. How do you explain to him that you were doing what you thought was best? As the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, Satoru will always have a community rallying behind him. Suguru had no one. You didn’t want Suguru to live a lonely life alone. You cared too much about him. Hence, you promised to be that one person he needed.

Satoru felt like ripping his hair out in agony. He could feel it. He could feel him losing you. Any traces of anger slipped out of his body. He looked at you desperately, looking crestfallen and utterly wrecked as he felt hot tears burn in his eyes. 

“Baby, please,” he begged, voice almost cracking in the process. “I’m already losing one best friend. I can’t lose you too.”

Closing your eyes to stop your own tears from falling, you could only whisper an apology back, “I’m sorry.”

Satoru didn’t need your apology. He knew that you could apologize a million times and in the end, he’d still forgive you even if you were tearing him apart. He also knew that you were extremely stubborn and even more loyal. You had made up your mind and this was you saying goodbye. His fists went rigid causing his knuckles to turn white from the intensity of his grip.

“So, this is it? This is the life you’re choosing?” he let out an empty laugh, the smile leaving his face once his gaze met Suguru’s who awaited behind you. “You’re choosing him?”

Shaking your head, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his tall figure down to you into a tight embrace. Arms wrapping around you, he held you even tighter against him as if his life depended on it. In a way, it did. Breathing in your scent, he felt goosebumps rise on his skin when your lips brushed to whisper against his ear.

“This is me choosing you.”

Ripping yourself away from the snowy haired man, he stood stunned at your declaration and could only watch as you made your way back to Suguru’s side. The said male extended his hand back at you once more, pouting as you shook your head no. Vision blurring with tears, you walked past him and continued walking down the street to get as far away as possible, willing your broken heart not to look back.

Suguru could only sigh deeply. You just needed more time. Whenever you were ready, he’d be there every step of the way with open arms, forever set to love and protect you. Looking back at Satoru, he shot the distraught male a smirk and threw up a peace sign. Tucking his hands into his pants pockets, he trailed after you before you could get too far. 

In a moment of panic, Satoru raised his hands to prepare an attack towards the raven haired male. After a mental struggle, he ultimately dropped his hands to his side, fists clenching hard. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t have it in him to harm his best friend or else he’d risk harming you as well.

Satoru watched your figures disappear deeper into the crowd for perhaps the last time he’ll ever see you.

[ledalasombra]

The Granddaughter - Chapter 4 - Little reveals

"Media? If he's famous, the paparazzi must have made a mess of the relationship," Tim commented as he took a sip of his coffee.

Alfred noticing the matter, called attention to the preselnce of the two at the door, causing the room to be silent.

"He was a model…" Marinette replied in a low tone when she noticed the silence and everyone's attention on her. "He gave up his career when his father disappeared."

"A pity the boy had to go through that. Adrien is a good boy, and he didn't deserve to lose his father so soon after finding his mother and no matter how bad his father was, the boy should try to keep the good memories…"

"Gabriel Agreste is probably the worst person I've ever met in my life Jagged." Marinette spoke calmly, taking a deep breath "I'm sorry to cut you off, but after I had to take Adrien to the hospital at least three times in less than a year because of the absurd diet his father made him follow and of the countless times he's come to my house hungry because he's gone more than 12 hours without a proper food, I refuse to hear anything good about him."

"Oh Mari I'm sorry. I know you don't like talking about him, it's totally my fault" Jagged tried to apologize but she just shook her head slightly.

"Water under the bridge Jagged, don't worry." She looked at Alfred who rubbed her hand lightly to assure her that everything was fine. "Excuse my rudeness, good night everyone! Mr. Wayne, Damian, it's nice to see you." She smiled slightly, cutting the subject short. "Jagged didn't inform me that we would be coming here today, as usual I'll just find out where I'm going when I get to the place."

"Hey, that's not true.." he spoke with his hand on his chest pretending to be offended

Penny smiled looking at her husband beside her "unfortunately she's right, she only found out when she got in the car. I didn't know you knew Mari"

"Oh! Penny, Jagged, let me introduce you to my grandfather Alfred Pennyworth. He is Julia's father" Marinette spoke with a wide smile and a lot of pride, looking at her grandfather, hugging him from the side. "He is simply the best person in my life. I certainly would not have survived the last 5 years without him."

Alfred returned the hug, lightly rubbing his granddaughter's head. It wasn't common to see him so openly show affection, not that the older one didn't show it in general, but he was very attached to etiquette in front of other people. "You're going to be fine" he spoke softly in her ear seeing her just nod positively. He lightly rubbed her head with his hand, turning his attention back to the couple.

"No way Alfie! How could that be? And I thought I was going to surprise him…."

"Mr. and Mrs. Stone, Mari is my only blood family and, after hearing all the stories possible from her about the interaction between you, I can only thank you for the care you both have taken with her." Alfred told the couple "actually the family didn't know about her existence until yesterday…"

"So let me introduce you to my friend of many years. Bruce Wayne this is my niece Marinette Dupain-Cheng aka Marie from Luck Charm, my fashion designer for the last four years…" Jagged spoke excitedly. Marinette smiled, greeting the older Wayne again.

"It's nice to see you. Jagged has been talking about you and your family for some time now and I can tell you it's nice to be able to put a face to every story. However, I must say I can't put you in most of the situations he described. "

"Should I care about what was said?" Bruce commented smiling and looking towards Jagged.

"Only if I decide to talk about them" Marinette completed looking at Bruce and smiling genuinely.

"Then I shouldn't worry about what Jagged and Alfred say about you. Let me introduce you to my children." He turned around pointing to the others in the room "This is my oldest, Richard Grayson-Wayne…" he said pointing to him.

"You can call me Dick, short for Richard… " Dick spoke cutting off what Bruce was saying. "You really look like Julia. Your mother was an amazing person from what I remember of her."

"Thank you. I don't remember her very well but Alfred always talk about her."

"This is my second oldest Jason Todd-Wayne" Bruce said.

"Oh… you were the guy from yesterday, who talked about the curves… of my motorcycle" Marinette spoke slowly, with a playful smile, which earned a few chuckles from around the room.

"It's a pleasure sunshine… " Jason replied laughing and shaking her hand.

"The one with the coffee is my second youngest Timothy Drake-Wayne" she smiled slightly greeting Tim from afar, where he looked at her a little scared.

"He is fine?" She spoke looking at Alfred and then Bruce

"You're Marie…" he said still on cloud nine "...and Alfred knew all this time?" Tim looked at the older man and only received a slight smile in return.

"It's not a secret of mine to tell master Tim" commented the butler….

Tim approached looking at Marinette in the eyes and then taking her hands. "Marry me?" She looked at him with wide eyes "You're the best designer I've ever seen in my entire life! You're smart, beautiful and Alfred's granddaughter…"

Marinette looked at him desperately hearing Jagged and Jason laugh behind her. She looked nervously at her grandfather who just shook his head. "Um… I don't think that's a good idea?"

"Master Tim, I suggest you sleep after dinner and I'll be clearing out all the coffee until you get a decent amount of sleep…."

Marinette frowned, looking at him sympathetically… "I'm sorry about that…" she said watching him walk away, looking at Bruce who pinched the bridge of his nose in a clear sign of tiredness.

"My youngest, Damian Wayne, who you met yesterday…" the young adult just nodded slightly towards her in greeting.

"It's a pleasure to see you Damian." she smiled slightly towards the boy.

"I'm going to finish setting the table for dinner. If you can all make your way to the dining room, everything will be ready in a few minutes." said the butler.

" Do you need some help?" Marinette asked, looking at her grandfather.

"Don't worry my dear, you are a guest." the older one responded by patting her hand, then moving away. The young woman just nodded, turning her attention to the other members of the room.

"Jagged mentioned yesterday that you moved to Gotham to study, correct? With so many universities in Europe and the region being so well recognized, why come to America?" Bruce asked, seeing the young woman take a seat next to Jagged.

"Actually, it wasn't such a difficult decision. My grandfather lives here, I spent my whole life away from him, for me it was the most logical thing. My parents are great people, but I always missed him by my side." She paused as if thinking briefly about what to say, "Besides, Paris has become a city with a lot of memories that I'd like to leave in the past."

"Hawkmorth left a deep mark on everyone." Jagged completed by speaking seriously for the first time.

"But people are healing, that's what matters. Plus Gotham has one of the best universities in the world which will certainly help me a lot with Luck Charm."

"It must have been pretty hard living all that time under the pressure of not being able to release your feelings in a decent way" Dick commented sympathetically.

"Everyone did what they could to not get akumatized. And those who couldn't or didn't care... people just wished it wasn't so bad." She spoke with a faraway look

"And how it is?" Damian asked, causing her to turn her attention to him, not understanding the question. Dick looked at him scolding him "What's it like to be akumatized?" She looked him in the eyes, but before she even answered, Penny did.

"I don't think Mari is the best person to answer since she has never been akumatized" Penny commented, hugging the young woman from the side.

"There were some very close situations... in one of the most extreme cases he called the akuma back. Not being akumatized is probably the hardest thing to do, but I managed it and I believe meditation and my family at the time were what got me helped. I also talked to Alfred quite often. I think knowing how to address stress and feelings was what helped me the most." She commented with a tight smile.

"I believe it's best that we direct the conversation to the dining room." Alfred spoke completely cutting the subject. Everyone got up, following Alfred to the dining room, not being able to notice some exchanges of glances between the family.

Dinner passed with light conversation about Jagged's tour accompanied by delicious food served by Alfred. Jokes and puns were thrown in during dinner, setting a mild mood, very different from earlier in the evening, where the atmosphere was tense.

“Hey Alfie, dinner was wonderful. I already missed your food, there's no place that can do what you do…” commented Jagged excitedly “I'll invite myself to eat here whenever I'm in Gotham…”

"Jagged... you can't just invite yourself into people's homes..." Marinette commented, rubbing her forehead and shaking her head.

“Oh M, I already do that with Tom and Sabine. You know very well that this is true. Your parents and Alfred are the best…”

“I'm glad you enjoyed the food, Mr. Stone. I suggest you finish your conversation in the living room and I'll bring you all tea in a minute." the butler commented getting up, watching the others leave next. Marinette watched the others leave, gathering some plates to help her grandfather.

“Do you think you can come to lunch with me tomorrow? We really need to talk…” the young woman said gathering all the dishes and taking them calmly to a cart that was in the corner of the dining room.

"I'll be there. Did anything happen besides the pending conversation?” the older one replied looking at her intently, studying her reactions. She looked at him without answering and they were both silent for a few seconds.

“I need to have a breakdown before answering this question, but we can say that the night has not been very easy… The conversation with Adrien was difficult and all the questions today were not very helpful…”

"I'm going to make you some tea to help you relax… In the meantime, we'll talk and you can explain to me what's going on in that head of yours that's always full…" the eldest smiled lightly, heading towards the kitchen with his granddaughter right behind him.

–

"What possessed you to ask those kinds of questions Damian? I think it was clear that Parisians have a hard time with the whole Hawkmorth situation… We're not in an interrogation…" Dick spoke to the younger one when they both fell further behind when left the dining room.

"Tt. It's obvious to me that she knows something… The whole situation in Paris was very closely guarded, we don't have much information about what really happened these years…"

"Damian… Alfred asked that there be no involvement on our part. We all agreed not to delve into her life… "

"I, as an outsider of the situation, was trying to understand what went on in Paris. I wasn't looking at anything in her life… " the young man stopped to look the older one in the eye "I just think from the way she spoke and her reaction, she was involved..."

"Where is she? I didn't see her go by with the others…" Dick asked looking where they came from.

"She was talking to Alfred." Damian ended the conversation and walked back to the living room. He didn't intend to stay long, but he didn't want to be lectured by his father. Dick stopped for a few seconds, going back the way he did earlier and going to the kitchen, where he could hear part of their conversation.

___

"Adrien is trying to convince me to go back to London." She spoke as soon as they entered the kitchen. She was clearly uncomfortable with her conversation with her ex. "My presence wasn't doing him any good grandpa"

He sighed looking at his granddaughter "You need to worry a little about yourself too Mari. You need to be sure of what you want and what you need." He paused, reaching over and holding both of her hands. "Let's try to explain it piece by piece. Why do you think your presence hurts him?"

"He has nightmares seeing me… " she stopped talking closing her eyes “...during the last encounter everything got out of control and…"

"Calm down my love. Take your time…" he rubbed her hand lightly trying to be supportive.

"He thinks that because he couldn't protect me on the last day, because he saw me... he thinks that being by my side is putting me in danger. He pulled away and when he said it was better that we broke up, I ended up accepting it." she opened her eyes letting a tear fall. Marinette was going to continue but before she could say anything, she looked her grandfather in the eyes and stopped, pressing her lips together. "It's better if we talk when we're in a place where no one can hear us…"

"Hum…" the butler paused looking at her "we'll talk better tomorrow, ok?" She nodded.

"I'll understand your calmness about this whole situation as a vote of confidence but I don't like it…" He smiled slightly with the younger girl's sentence moving away. He put the water on to boil in the kettle, watching as she approached and stopped next to the marble cupboard in the center of the kitchen. He walked over to her, holding her hand "Do you trust me?"

"My life and more" she answered honestly and without hesitation.

"Then get that worry out of your head… " he said placing his index finger on her head. Marinette just pursed her lips, looking at him "Worry about what is necessary. I'll be by your side to solve what you need" Alfred caressed her face, seeing his granddaughter nod positively, leading them both to the door right away. As soon as he got to the door, both stopped and Alfred addressed the guy who was on his back playing with his cell phone "do you need anything Master Dick?"

….

Dick returned to the kitchen, stopping in the hallway when he heard the voices of Alfred and Marinette.

"He has nightmares seeing me... during the last encounter everything got out of control and…" 

 "Calm down my love. Take your time…"

"He thinks that because he couldn't protect me on the last day, because he saw me... he thinks that being by my side is putting me in danger. He pulled away and when he said it was better that we broke up, I ended up accepting it." Dick heard Marinette talking, noticing that they both stopped talking for a few moments. He was going to move, but stopped when he heard the young woman continue "It's better if we talk when we're in a place where no one can hear us…"

Dick was standing next to the kitchen for about 5 minutes and he was sure no one heard him coming, so how? He never understood how Alfred managed to sense his presence even when he didn't make a sound in the dark. Even after years he had come to simply accept that his grandfather just managed to be always present. Finding out that her granddaughter could do something similar was intriguing to say the least. Was it a family thing? Dick took the cell phone sending message in the group chat that has only his brothers.

Group Chat: The war zone

The First One

She certainly knows about what happened and from what I understand, so does Alfred.

It's scary how they manage to talk without saying anything...

I think it runs in the family, she knew I was down the hall in less than 5 minutes….

The Best One

I said she knew something. Pennyworth must explain to us later.

Richard was about to respond to the group when he heard Alfred speak behind him. He noticed that the cell phone started to be bombarded with a lot of messages, keeping it in his pants pocket.

"Do you need anything Master Dick?"

"Alfred! I came to get Marinette, she wasn't with the others…" he said smiling gallantly as he looked at the two. Marinette looked him up and down, taking a deep breath...

"And here I thought only Mr Wayne was like that…"

"Marinette…" Alfred spoke in a scolding tone.

"What? Seriously grandpa, Mr Wayne acted exactly the same yesterday… This family is very strange…" she said as she walked a little further ahead and Alfred shook his head negatively at the interaction.

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

Hello everyone... sorry for the delay but life is hectic... 

I'm still trying to finish editing the other chapters of "My not so normal little sister" and it's complicated... I won't even start with the others WIPs that are in my head and partially written. thank you for your patience, feedback and a thousand apologies if I forgot to tag someone. And again, english is not my first language, it's actually my fourth so I am so sorry for the grammar mistakes... the goal is always to improve

@fusser90  @night-ngale  @missmadwoman  @prettylittlebutterflie @babylovebug18 @its-maemain @iglowinggemma28 @the-church-grimm @kp-names @iamablinkmarvelarmy​ @starling218  @battybatbat  @atiredartistandacat @serasvictoria02 @read-fantasy-to-escape-reality @alice-hazelwood @maybeanalien0-0 @stella17luna  @sknerd101 @kathygene @waffleyunsure @nightfallsthings @taewinterbear95 @occulta-lacrimarum13  @kathygene  @tinybrie​  @kitsun369​  @iglowinggemma28​  @crazylittlemunchkin​  @nightfallsthings  @fangirlingfanatic​  @nightmarewasteland​   @laydeekrayzee  @the-ruler-of-death​ @sarcasticbambi

[pinkeoni]

So I lost the original draft, but I got an anon asking me what I thought rainbows represented in ST. My answer looked a little like this:

I put off answering this question because this is actually a rather tough question that I didn’t have a quick answer to and did have to do some thinking on.

I feel like it’s easy to say “Gay,” and yes this is part of it, but this answer might actually be reductive and innacurate to what is actually happening in the show.

I think when considering period-accurate clothing, you have to consider the context of that time period. Rainbows being on clothes in the 1980’s is a little different then say, rainbows on clothes in the 2020’s.

It is true that the rainbow pride flag did exist in the 80’s, and rainbow pride gear did exist, however this was pre-rainbow capitalism and before we had the overabundance of rainbow merchandising. Rainbows were a symbol of pride in the 80s, but it also existed well outside of that. Now, it’s almost impossible to find clothing with rainbows on it that isn’t associated with pride. (Or even if it’s not the manufacturer’s intention, that correlation will still be made.)

On the left is a bts photo of Robin Buckley, and on the right is Mindy Meeks from Scream VI. Both of these characters are lesbians, and both include clues in their costuming that point toward their sexualities. Robin has rainbow shapes and triangles on her shirt, while Mindy wear’s a shirt that says “Lavender Menace” on it and has a rainbow pride flag patch sewn onto her jacket.

Considering the personalities and context of these two characters is important when deciding their costumes. Robin is a closeted lesbian, living in a conservative small town in the 1980’s. Any indications towards her queerness are going to have to made incredibly subtly. Rainbow pride gear did exist in the 80’s, but it wouldn’t make sense for Robin to be wearing that openly.

Mindy, on the other hand, is out and proud and living in 2020’s NYC, so her wearing more overt pride gear makes sense for her character and the time that her character lives in. The rainbow patch serves as a reminder to the audience of her sexuality. When Mindy was first introduced Scream V, her sexuality was not explicitly stated, but the costume department instead gave her a rainbow pin as visual shorthand to communicate her identity.

So, with all that in mind, rainbows on clothes of a character in ST—

—may not in itself be indicative of their sexuality.

But then again, this is a show created in the modern day for the modern audience who would have that association with gay pride, so it shouldn’t be ruled out.

I don’t think that Lucas having rainbows on his shirt means that he’s queer, but then when we have this—

A rainbow being squarely placed behind Will, a character we know to be gay, who in a later season did a whole project on Alan Turing, the gay inventor of computers, it would be ignorant of me to say that rainbows in the show had no correlation with gay pride.

So then, I tried to approach the meaning of rainbows from a more broad sense. Maybe the meaning behind rainbows is something that could encapsulate gay pride while speaking to a larger meaning. So I decided to simplify it, and go back to rainbows in nature.

When do rainbows appear? After the rain.

Let’s go back to Lucas’ rainbow shirt that I pointed out before. Lucas wears this when he realizes that he’s in way over his head with his basketball crew and he returns to his friends. Lucas is getting out of the rainstorm and back into the light. He’s seeing the rainbow.

We can also apply this to his relationship with other characters, especially Max. Max has been in the dark for so long, but thanks to her friends, thanks to Lucas, she’s able to see some of that light again. Lucas is like her personal rainbow.

Max also wears rainbows in season 3 to the same affect, except here I believe she is meant to be El’s rainbow. El has been kept in the dark but Max is the one that shows her the light.

I think rainbows can also be misleading, though.

The Rainbow Room was the reward that Papa gave the kids for doing well in their lessons. “Whoever wins will win an extra hour in the rainbow room.” It was supposed to be their light after the dark, but really it was another symbol of their entrapment. No matter how much extra time you get in the Rainbow Room, you are still a prisoner.

I wanted to talk about the Rainbow Room in regards to when we see rainbows on El’s letter that she sent to Mike.

And yes, Mike reading a letter with rainbows on it in his Freddie Mercury tank while in front of his closet does seem like rainbows are being used as queercoding here, and that might be part of it, but considering that this scene comes right after we see the massacre in the Rainbow Room at the beginning of the episode, leading me to believe that the rainbows here are meant to correspond with the rainbows there.

Because Mike is like the Rainbow Room, he is supposed to be El’s light in the dark, he is supposed to be her reward after being in the rain for so long, but just like the Rainbow Room, it’s all false hope.

The Rainbow Room is where El has her showdown with One though, which represents another aspect of the light after the dark, clarity and truth.

El has learned the truth and she even gains a new power in this moment. In a way, One has also reached a light in this moment. He had Soteria removed, he is seeing new possibilities, but it’s twisted, it’s upside down, hence why his rainbow is flipped.

And now I bring it back to the screenshot I showed earlier of the rainbow behind Will, which yes lends itself to some queercoding, but this is also the same scene where Will reveals the truth to the gang about D’Art. He’s bringing new infortmation into the light, and thus there is a rainbow behind him.

So, when we talk about rainbows and costuming, I think it’s significant that Robin and Will, are two confirmed queer characters, do not wear rainbows on their clothes. And if they do, it’s only very subtly. Will’s most colorful outfit is probably the one he get’s taken in, and after that both Will and Robin wear pretty muted and monochromatic outfits. They are hiding in the dark, they aren’t able to show their truths, their rainbows, just yet.

So, to the nice anon whose ask I lost about what rainbows represent in ST, my answer is: Clarity, truth, and the light after the rainstorm.

[kyberblade]

Back To You (Din x Reader) - Part 18

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

Xxx

“And then you’ll need to-”

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

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

“What?”

“I need muscle.”

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

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

You scoffed. “That doesn’t count.”

“No?”

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

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

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

“Why would he be afraid of me?”

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

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

Cara leveled you with a look.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He called you Mandalorian.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know that you are.”

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

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

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

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

“Something else I should be here as?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Mayfeld,” Din said easily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’d take the deal if I were you.”

His eyes snapped to you. “Yeah?”

You nodded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Mandalorian sighed. “No.”

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

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

“A Jedi-”

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

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

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

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

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

“You get a better view.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“To what?” He encouraged softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell that to your face.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

“It has to.”

“It will.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you say it again?”

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

“What does it mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Xxx

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

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

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

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

Your jaw dropped. “How did you-”

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

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

“Even with the helmet?”

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

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

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

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

“Oh, honey, the easiest.”

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

“What are we talking about?”

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

“Oh, don’t be like that, shiny!””

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

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

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

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

Din turned back to Cara, waiting on her response.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll go.”

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

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

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

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

Boba sighed. “Yes.”

“You sure, old timer?”

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

“That’s why he keeps the helmet on.”

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

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

“No.” Din didn’t even hesitate.

So neither did you. “Yes.”

He sighed, turning to you. “Stop.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smirked. “True.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mayfeld leaned back away from Din.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then-”

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

“What?”

“No, I won’t tell you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or being partially digested by a sarlacc.” 

All heads slowly swiveled to look at Boba in silence.

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

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

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

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

Xxx

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

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

“I’ll be right behind you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Actually, it kinda is….”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, okay, I get the point.”

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

You arched a brow. “You done?”

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

“That was just to collect Mayfeld.”

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

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

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

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

Her features softened. “Since the kid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And your plan to cover them is….”

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

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

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

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

You smirked. “What do you think?”

Xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No trackers?”

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

“What does what mean?”

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

“Idiot,” Cara mumbled, shaking her head.

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

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

“Mesh’la?”

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

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

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

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

He nodded. “It’d help.”

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

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

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

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

“I know how to fold.”

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

Din grunted.

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

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

He chuckled. “Years of practice.” 

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

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

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

Din sighed.

“Is there a problem?”

“It…. smells.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Help me, please. I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

“Mesh’la.”

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

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

You grimaced. “What does it smell like?”

“You don’t want to know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did you say something?”

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

“No. Just swallowed wrong or something.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, I know, I was only kidding.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

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

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

“I will do no such thing.”

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

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

“They do if they love each other!”

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

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

“Are you two done?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Xxx

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How will you let Fett know?”

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

“Yes, thank you, Fennec, I am aware-”

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

“Stop.”

“Are you wearing a-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mesh’la-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Neither you nor Din responded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Paint me a picture then.”

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

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

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

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

He swallowed roughly. “No, ma’am.”

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

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

“Would it have changed anything?” Din sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What’s wrong?”

You waved Mayfeld off.

“Mesh’la?” Din wouldn’t let you push him away like you had your other companion. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

Taking the rifle you’d taken from the original transport guards off your back, you tossed it to the side with a clatter. It suddenly felt too heavy. Too hot, like it was burning your skin. “I’m fine. It’s just…. Loss. So much loss. I didn’t expect to-” You stumbled as Mayfeld swerved to miss the fiery remains of a transport in the road, Din reaching out to try and stabilize you from his seat, and the rifle skittered across the floor.

A thud on the back right of the transport pulled all three sets of eyes in the cockpit that direction, Mayfeld deciding to stare that way instead of at the road as he barked, “What the hell was that?”

Din looked at the little screen showing a rear view of the vehicle. “Pirates. Keep driving. I’ll take care of it.” He got to his feet and lifted the window portion of his door up. Chatter in a language you didn’t recognize drifted in from the rear of the transport where Din aimed his blaster and began shooting.

Mayfeld kept looking between the road and the Mandalorian. “Are you seriously shooting a blaster near rhydonium?”

Din must have realized the risk because he stopped shooting and just watched before pulling back into the cockpit, closing the window before he headed to the ladder. “They have thermal detonators.”

“Terrific.” Mayfeld’s dry tone made your lips quirk up.

“Of course they do.”

“Just keep it steady.” Din started up the ladder, popping the hatch once he was at the top.

“Get these guys off us! Get ‘em off us!” Any calm, cool and collected Mayfeld had disappeared and was now replaced with frantic and chaotic Mayfeld. 

At the top of the ladder Din looked down at you as you started to follow him up. “No.”

You scoffed. “That gets funnier every time, Mando.”

His top half outside of the hatch, he shot at one of the pirates, and it must have landed, the thermal detonator flying off with him and detonating, sending the back of the transport swaying from side to side precariously, and setting off all kinds of alarms. Mayfeld finally got them all back within normal ranges, the red readouts finally going green once again. 

“They’re trying to blow the rhydonium,” Din called down.

Mayfeld rolled his eyes. “You think?” Then as an afterthought, “You should have left me in prison!”

Din started to come down, closing the hatch as he went, but stopped short when more shouts in that same alien language sounded from the back of the transport, opening it once again. Several impacts sounded as you assumed multiples of them landed on the vehicle, making Din spring into action, climbing back up.

He paused, looking down at you where you’d begun to climb the ladder once again. “Stay.”

Looking up at him with wide eyes, you just stared for a moment before proclaiming loudly, “I am not a tooka!” But he was already gone, out on the roof, so you crossed your arms and did as he asked.

One blaster shot went off followed by multiple clicks of a blaster failing. “Oh that is not a good sound.” You’d never scrambled up a ladder so fast. You got to your feet on the roof of the transport just in time to see Din throw the faulty blaster at the pirates. 

In an almost comedic moment of silence, both Din and the pirates were frozen, staring at one another, then they all leapt into action at once, two of them trying to pry open a back compartment while the one in front charged Din.

They collided in just a few steps, Din reaching out and wrestling the staff out of his enemy’s hands, using it to knock him forward with a well placed swat to the back. The pirate stumbled towards you, and you tried to step out of the way just as Din kicked him in the lower back, sending him careening the rest of the way to you. The pirate tripped over your foot that was a split second too slow getting out of the way and rolled down the front of the transport, under the wheels, making the vehicle bump violently as it ran over him.

You and Din met each other’s gaze in silence.

“Well,” you said finally. “That went well.”

Din groaned, rolling his head as he turned back to the remaining pirates.

Closing the distance between you, following him to the end of the transport, you went on, “See? You need me.”

Din turned to look toward the front of the vehicle when it hit a large bump, blocking your view of the back, and neither of you saw the pirate coming up behind him until he was smashing Din’s left pauldron with his staff, then the vambrace, making Din drop to his knee. When the pirate went to strike again, Din reached out with his left hand to catch the staff, and you took the chance to strike, punching the thug in the face.

The pirate began to wobble, looking up at the sky like he was seeing stars in the middle of the day, and Din took the opportunity, letting go of the weapon with his left hand and instead using that arm like a bar, bracing it against the thug, his other hand flipping the body up and over his shoulder, and off of the transport.

There was one left.

Reaching down to pick up the staff the last one had dropped, you flipped it in your hand to face the right way. “Hey, Mando.”

He turned to you, catching the staff when you tossed it to him, orienting it properly, then throwing it at the remaining pirate. It hit its mark, leaving the roof of the transport trespasser free.

The pirates on their little hovercraft following along behind let out a war cry.

Din turned toward the hatch, calling down to your reluctant travel companion. “Mayfeld! Pick it up. Drive faster!”

The transport lurched as Mayfeld did as he was asked, Din reaching out to help stabilize you with a hand on your elbow, and you did the same, both of you stumbling closer to one another.

“It looks like they had the same idea,” you yelled, watching as the hovercraft quickly closed the small distance you’d gained. Soft alarms blaring from the cockpit got your attention, and you took a few steps toward the hatch. “What’s going on?”

Mayfeld answered quickly, “I don’t think faster’s a good idea!”

Din tilted his head at you from where he was standing further from the hatch, as if to ask what was said. 

Lowering to your haunches by the top of the hatch, you repeated, “It’s not a good idea!”

As Mayfeld slowed the transport down, it lurched once again, sending you leaning precariously, and you had to rise to your feet to get the better of the momentum pushing you toward Din.

“What are you doing?” The Mandalorian barked toward the hatch.

“Bad, bad idea,” you reiterated under your breath, catching sight of the pirate ship closing the last few feet left between them and the transport. 

Din readied himself, lowering into a fight stance, sending his fist into the gut of the first pirate who approached before moving onto the next. 

The momentum sent the pirate hurtling toward you, and without thinking, you slid between his legs and popped up behind him, elbowing him in the kidney like Din had taught you - well, you hoped that’s where his kidney was, they weren’t humans, but they were humanoid - and it sent him stumbling further forward.

“Get down! Down and right!” 

You didn’t think twice, just did what Din said, side stepping to the right and ducking your head, and not a second later the pirate was on the ground after Din had smashed one of the staves over his head.

“Don’t you have a blaster? And what about your knife?”

You grinned. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

Out of nowhere, Din turned and punched a pirate in the face, but the one he’d knocked out in front of you was back on his feet and tackled him from behind, knocking him to the ground. As he tried to get up, the one he’d punched swung their staff at Din, and he was just able to avoid it. When they tried again, he ducked, and they ended up hitting the other pirate square in the face, each reaching out for the other to avoid falling. Once Din got back to his feet, he headbutted the one with the staff, and elbowed a third, turning to punch the one that had knocked him over off the transport.

He turned to the side and couldn’t see you. “Mesh’la!”

“I’m right here!” You yelled from right behind him, making him whirl around, sighing in relief. “I have to get out of sight. We’re getting close to the base. They’ll notice someone out of uniform.”

He nodded. “Go. I’ve got this.”

Your eyes went wide. “Duck!”

As he dropped to the ground in front of you, a staff came hurtling through the air, narrowly missing him even in his crouched state. Leaning back out of the way, you avoided being hit yourself, pulled it out of the ground by your feet, and charged the pirate quickly closing in on you. Whacking him in the head once, you spun to avoid a vibrio blade he pulled, bringing the staff down on his hand to make him drop it. Spinning the other way, you swiped the staff against his legs, knocking them out from under him and sweeping him down onto his back with a thud. As he tried to scramble back up, scooting back on his elbows and pushing with his feet, you stood up and gave him a shove with the staff, sending him flying off the edge of the transport. 

Turning to Din, your eyes wide, you rolled your head sarcastically. “Yeah. You’ve got this. Clearly!”

Before he could get to his feet, a pirate came up behind him, grabbed him, and flipped him onto his back, holding his head over the edge of the vehicle.

“Where are you all coming from?!” You grumbled.

You took a few steps toward Din, but he stopped you, pointing behind you as he struggled against his captors. Turning, you saw a lone pirate prying open the rhydonium storage at the end of the transport and setting a thermal detonator.

You sighed. “It never ends.”

Din started struggling more and headbutting, one of his captors going flying over the edge, so you focused on the lone man at the end. 

Breaking into a sprint, you closed the distance in a few quick strides, using the Force for a little extra and launching, taking the pirate down like you did the guard on Corvus, wrapping your legs around his shoulders and using the momentum to pull him down. Grabbing the thermal detonator in the process, you sent the pirate flying with a kick to the back and threw the detonator after him.

The fireball sent each hovercraft into another explosion, a chain reaction of heat making the transport veer wildly. 

The blast sent you and Din back, both of you landing in a heap of limbs, you against his chest. “I’m so glad you’re not in beskar right now. That would hurt.”

He was groaning. “I had it under control.”

You rolled your eyes. “Obviously.”

“Uh, Mando, I gotta stop. I can’t cross at this speed.” Oh yeah. You’d forgotten about Mayfeld. 

Din was pushing you to your feet just as more hovercrafts appeared, all of the pirates clicking on their thermal detonators and letting out war cries. “Go. Go!”

You pushed his hands away from you. “I’m not leaving you!”

Grabbing your wrists, he stopped you, and made you look at him straight on. “No, you’re not. Now go.”

Nodding, you pulled back toward the hatch, taking one final look toward Din over the edge before you’d let yourself drop back in.

He sighed and stood up, lowering into a fight stance just as green streaks rained down from the sky, making him jump and duck his head, the scream of TIE fighters following soon after.

You ducked into the cockpit as the TIEs flew overhead, turning to watch them through the viewport. 

Mayfeld let out a cry of triumph, pumping his fist in the air. “Whoo!”

“Woah, woah, hands on the controls, di’kut.” You patted his shoulder condescendingly, grinning at his annoyed glare shot your way that quickly melted into a grin to match your own. 

As the base loomed large in front of the transport, you peered up at its massive walls, swarms of troopers pouring out of every opening to aid in the recovery of their haul. Melting back into the shadows of the cab, you watched troopers of all types manifest before your eyes. 

Din dropped down beside you. Making his way to his seat slowly, his movement stilted, he groaned with each step, and let out one long moan when he finally sat.

Mayfeld looked at all the troopers with awe. “Never thought you’d be happy to see stormtroopers.” Maintaining his cover, he offered them a salute.

“Never thought they’d be able to hit something.”

Both men chuckled at your response, Din moaning with the effort. 

Reaching out you put a hand on the back of Din’s shoulder to keep your hand concealed to anyone looking through the viewport, focusing on his pain, his injuries, letting your energy flow into him and pulling on the negative energy radiating out of every wound. You could feel him slowly relaxing as each bruise healed, skin knit back together, and bones found their way back to their original positions. 

Until his breath hitched in his chest. “That’s new,” he mumbled lowly. 

“Ahsoka mentioned it while you were sleeping. Explained how Gr- the kid did it, so I thought I’d try. Never quite been able to, but I’ve been practicing. Especially since…. Since he….” You swallowed roughly. “Since Tython.” Patting his shoulder once, you withdrew your hand, stepping further back in the cockpit. “Something clicked.”

Pressing all the way to the back of the cab, you mumbled into the earpiece, “We’re in. I’ll let you know when I’m at the top. Have to wait for a clear spot to get out of here and then find a disguise.”

Boba’s voice came back all business. “Copy that.”

“Got it. We’re in position, ready when you are,” Fennec added.

As the transport pulled into the base, you tucked back into the shadows of the cockpit. Pulling on something you’d never thought to try before, you manipulated the air around you to make you only appear as a shadow to anyone taking a closer look. It seemed to be working as one stormtrooper did a double take, looking right at you before moving on, satisfied that he’d only seen a trick of the light.

Din pretended to be fiddling with something between him and Mayfeld, messing with his armor, and taking a step closer to you as his companion disembarked the vehicle to rounds of applause. He looked right at you, standing directly in front of you and reaching beside your head with his right hand to fiddle with a panel, appearing busy to anyone looking in. He was too smart to be fooled by your shadow play, able to see you plainly, tilting his head slightly when you looked up to meet his gaze through the trooper helmet.

“I’m assuming you’re doing something so they can’t see you?”

You nodded. Concealing your form was one thing. Hiding your voice was another.

“Will you be able to maintain it?”

You only hesitated a moment before nodding, but he caught it, and sighed heavily.

“Mesh’la….”

Opening your eyes wide, pleading with him to trust you, you reached just a little further, speaking into his mind for only a moment.

“Everything will be fine, Din.” His breath caught in his chest at the sound of your voice in his head. “I can do this. Now go and find the kid.”

Din leaned forward just enough to touch his forehead to yours briefly, making your breath hitch.

“Do that again when you’re back in beskar. This is just…. Weird.”

He chuckled softly at your voice once again lilting into his consciousness. When he pulled back, withdrawing his hand from the panel beside you, he lightly trailed gloved fingers over the top of your shoulder and down through the ends of your hair. “I’m gonna go find our kid,” he mumbled. “Don’t get caught.”

Our kid. I’m gonna go find our kid. Our.

You couldn’t help the grin pulling up the corners of your mouth. “See you at the end, Tin Can.”

Xxx

It didn’t take long for the crowd to disperse once Din disembarked the transport. They all moved around Mayfeld and the Mandalorian as one body, congratulating them on a job well done for the Empire, giving you ample room to slip out unnoticed and make it to a dark corner, still using the Force to help conceal your presence. 

It was the same principle as causing misdirection with sound, only this was misdirection with visual cues, causing shadows and light to bend a little differently than they normally would, making a person's mind fill in the blanks with something they expected to see instead of what they actually saw. 

Not difficult to do, but a long one to maintain. Which is why you needed to find a disguise fast. You had already felt a large drain when you had healed Din, plus all the little things to show off and mess with Mayfeld, your battery was starting to run on low…. But there wasn’t time for that. You couldn’t stop, not until Grog- the kid was safe. 

You’d almost said his name.

For the third time today alone you’d almost said his name.

Sure, when you were with other people, it was fine, you could distract yourself, forget about it, and move on.

But by yourself….

By yourself, here, in the camp of the enemy that held him…. With nowhere to hide and no one to hide behind, no one who understood, or tried to and said they did….

That made everything bubble up in you all over again, everything you had been working so hard to tamp down, to ignore for days…. It was just under the surface again, and it was angry.

Suddenly a new wave of energy washed over you, and you felt your jaw set determinedly.

This was for the ki-

For Grogu.

Let’s go.

You saw someone walking nearby. Stepping into their path, you held your ground when they stopped, pulling their gaze up to meet yours. "I need your help.” The woman looked alarmed, her face quickly screwing into anger when she realized you weren’t base personnel. Reaching out, you put a hand on her shoulder. "Stay calm."

"I'm calm." Her voice was monotonous, her features flat as she fell under your suggestion.

"You're going to show me a supply closet with uniforms then forget you saw me."

"I'm going to-"

"Now!'

"Now."

Boba began laughing over the comm in your ear as you followed the soldier with your head down. “Oh, that's gotta come in handy. Have a few people I need you to meet….”

You rolled your eyes.

In just a few short steps you were at the supply closet, about to send the officer on her way with no memory of your encounter. But then you realized all of the spare uniforms were troopers, none with a high enough ranking to get you where you needed. Turning to the woman, you saw her high level clearance badge and made a split second decision.

“Get in the closet.”

She did what you asked without question.

“I need to borrow your uniform and clearance card.”

The tiny space, close quarters, the unneeded pressure on you knowing their exit counted on you getting a coat…. Everything started to spin slowly. 

The officer wasn’t moving quickly enough for you. “Hurry!”

Your control must have slipped in your haste, because the officer suddenly stopped, shaking her head as if to clear a fog, and looked at you with wide eyes. After a short stare off she reached for her comm, but only was able to click it on briefly. “This is Officer Leraay! I need help in the supply closet on level one! I repeat, I need-”

But she stopped, dropping the comm and suddenly clawing at her throat with eyes wide as she gasped for air. It wasn’t until her wild gaze fell on you that you realized you were the one causing her to choke. 

“Officer Leraay? Are you there? Which supply closet, there are a few….” The comm buzzed a muffled reply on the floor. 

Leaning close to the officer's face, you spoke quickly and quietly. “I’m going to stop, and you’re going to tell them it was a false alarm.”

The officer's eyes were defiant, but she nodded.

Releasing whatever hold you hadn’t even realized you’d had on her, she gasped for air, scooping down to pick up the comm. “F-” she coughed wildly. “False alarm. The door was ajar on closet three, I thought we had some mischief makers, but I checked it out. All’s well.”

“Want me to send backup to guard the door in case it was someone and you just scared them off for now?”

Officer Leraay looked into your eyes confidently once again. ���Yes. Please do. Long live the Empire.”

The comm clattered to the floor as she reached to grab at your forearm that was now wrapped around her neck from behind. She scrambled against your chokehold, gasping for air, and…. Laughing?

“You rebels are so….” She grunted. “So stupid. It’ll never work.”

“I’m not a rebel,” you hissed in her ear. “I’m a bartender.”

You let her fall to the floor in a heap when she finally passed out. “And it’s working just fine.”

Fennec’s laugh filled your ear. “Wait, that story you told Mayfeld was true? You’re actually a bartender?”

Pulling the uniform off the officer, you sighed. “Yup. Born and raised on Coruscant, and worked in that bar since before I was old enough to legally serve alcohol.”

“You owe me a drink sometime. It’s been a while since I’ve had an honest to goodness drink I didn’t want to throw in someone’s face instead of enjoy.”

“You got it,” you huffed, pulling on the regulation cap. Poking your head out of the door and checking both ways, you mumbled as you started down the hallway, “I almost said Mandalorian instead of bartender.”

“Why didn’t you?” Boba’s voice made your steps falter for a moment before you pressed on, turning left to go up a set of stairs.

“Uh, because I’m not?” Stopping at a dead end with two options to turn, you sighed. “I need directions. Left or right?”

A moment passed as the beep of the holo projector sounded from Boba’s end. “Left.” Turning that way, another set of stairs appeared and you took them, winding up higher and higher toward the roof. “What makes someone a Mandalorian? Beskar? You’ve got that. A signet? Got that, too. A clan? A purpose? Tenacity? A sense of honor and a Creed?”

“You can stop anytime….” Another dead end. “These bases are laid out like a womp rat’s brain…. Left again?”

“Right.” You started to turn to the left but pulled up short when Boba huffed in amusement. “No, right.” Rolling your eyes with a sigh, you turned and went the opposite way. 

Boba chuckled softly to himself, mumbling about your womp rat's brain comment. Some more beeps. “This right, then another, then stay straight until you see another staircase and that one will take you to the roof.” You nodded even though he couldn’t see you, walking past a group of stormtroopers. “I’m just listing things I know about you, ad’ika.”

Turning the next right, you came face to face with two troopers guarding the door to the hallway you needed, making you pull back and lean against the corner you just came around, your head thumping back against the wall. “Hang on. Gotta take care of something.” Adjusting the uniform, you held your head high and went to walk straight through the doorway.

“Halt.” One of the troopers held out a hand, stopping you from going any further. “Authorized personnel only.”

You scoffed. “I’m aware, trooper. Which is why I’m trying to get through. I am authorized personnel.”

“Gonna need to see some ID. Chain code?”

Nodding, you went to lift your arm for him to scan, but right as he brought the scanner down, you twisted and gripped his forearm, turning your body and slamming your back into his chest.

He hit the wall next to the door with thud, his armor letting out an exaggerated hiss from the impact, almost a high pitched whine, and it made the corner of your mouth quirk up briefly. The trooper let out an oomph but it was cut short when you flipped him over like Din had the pirate you’d punched on top of the transport, and he landed at your feet in a moaning pile of limbs.

“Stop!” The other trooper was shouting, aiming and taking shots with his blaster, but thoroughly missing you every time. 

“Knew it was too good to be true,” you mumbled as his fifth shot ricocheted off the wall feet from your head, the next two bouncing safely away from your sides as he continued to miss from mere steps away.

Flicking the blaster out of his hand with a wave of your own, you turned on him, pushing him back into the wall and keeping him pinned there with an unseen force. 

As the first trooper tried to get up, drawing his blaster, you swiped it from his hand before whacking him on the back of the head with the butt of the weapon, and sending him crashing to the floor in an unconscious heap. 

Turning to his friend still struggling against the wall, you got close to his face. “Are there any more guards stationed on the way to the roof?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Oh great, a personality.” You pressed him further into the wall, taking a step closer yourself. “Are there any more guards?”

“I-”

“Ah-ah-ah,” you scolded playfully, a sly smile turning up your features as you wagged a finger in front of his helmet in admonishment. “Be completely honest, now.”

“I will be completely honest,” he droned.

You gestured for him to continue after a moment of silence. “Go on.”

“No.”

Smiling sweetly at the trooper, you nodded once in approval. “Thank you.”

Releasing your hold on him, he slumped down the wall, stumbling forward and leaving himself perfectly open for you to reach out and smash him in the back of the head with the butt of the blaster like you had the first, sending him down beside his friend.

“Are you done?” Boba’s dry tone made you roll your eyes. 

“Would you have done better?” He chuckled at your sarcasm. Getting back to the conversation from before, you tugged the troopers just out of sight then continued down the hallway. “I have no Creed, old man.”

“I’m not that ol-” He sighed heavily, making you grin as he went on. “You’ve sworn to protect your Mandalorian and that child, have you not?”

You stayed silent, taking the last turn and set of stairs.

“As I thought.” Boba’s amused tone made the corner of your mouth twitch up. “You’ve sworn your own Creed. You are Mandalorian. Just like the shiny one said.”

Fennec chimed in quietly, her tone smug. “You’re also more than a Mandalorian to Mando, but that’s another discussion we don’t have time for right now.”

“She has all the time in the world. She just has to make it to the roof. Please, go on.”

Their quiet laughter filled your ear as you took the last hallway, staying straight and flying up the last set of stairs. “Now guys? Really? Can we do group therapy later?”

They just kept laughing, making you shake your head as you pushed open the door to the roof. “I’m on top.”

“Is it clear?”

“It’s about to be,” you mumbled, pulling off the officer’s uniform and rolling your shoulders once you were back to your base layers, glad to be back to yourself.

“Can you do this without any weapons?”

“Oh, absolutely, old man. The question is, what will you give me?”

“Won’t you simply enjoy the pride of a job well done?”

“No,” you said simply, kicking the uniform to the side. “I need-”

Alarms started blaring around the base, a male voice monotonously announcing over the speakers, “Security to main commons. Security to main commons.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, you let your forehead fall onto your forearms where they were braced on the wall you crouched behind. “Really guys?”

“How do you know it wasn’t someone finding the troopers you left behind that set off the alarm?”

Slinking up behind a group of troopers who still hadn’t scrambled into anything resembling a formation, you got close to the nearest one, tapping him on the shoulder. “When I get back on your ship,” you punched the trooper when he turned around, dropping him to the ground. “I’m going to hold you down,” sticking out your right leg you swiped the legs of the trooper next to the first before he could react, “and show you how a bartender expresses annoyance.” Pulling your arm back forcefully, you elbowed the trooper trying to sneak up on you, sending him to the ground.

Boba laughed. “Can’t wait.”

Another trooper got the jump on you, wrapping his arms around you from behind and keeping yours pinned at your sides. You tried to shrug out of his hold, but it wasn’t working. Reaching your leg up you twisted just enough to pull your knife out of your boot and swipe at the troopers forearms. He recoiled with a yelp, letting you go and you whirled around to face him, blinking rapidly when he dropped suddenly.

Fennec’s soft voice came over your comm. “You’re welcome.”

You never even heard the shot. How far away were they?

“Thanks,” you mumbled, tucking the knife back in your boot. “Now, old man, back to what I was saying.”

“You mean threatening?”

“Did Mando ever tell you about the time I blew up an alley?”

“That’s not a threat, nau ki’bas’ika, that’s amusing.” (“Little light bug.”)

Growling in aggravation, you charged another trooper, taking him down like the last pirate on the transport. It was your new favorite move, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Din kept making comments about it. Nothing at all, you thought with a smirk.

Leaping into the air at the last minute, you wrapped your legs around his shoulders, pulled him down, took his blaster and flipped it to stun before you dropped another three troopers nearby.

“That still counts as a weapon.”

“No. No, it’s not one of mine so it doesn’t count.”

“That makes no sense, nau ki’bas’ika, but okay. By those rules you used your knife, so….” He tisked.

“Kriff,” you muttered, throwing the blaster on the ground out of the reach of the troopers. “Dank farrik.”

“What? What did I miss?” Din’s voice crackling over the comm made you stop in your tracks, everything else falling away as you focused on the sounds of his breathing. It was labored, there was blaster fire, and Mayfeld was screeching like a drowning Wookie, but they were alive. “Mesh’la?”

“Nothing. Everything.” You smiled. “I’ll fill you in later.”

“Your little riddur has just lost a bet,” Boba explained gleefully. (“Partner.”)

Another shot whizzed by you, making you spin to follow the bolt, a trooper dropping mere feet away from you. “South wall, halfway up.”

“Fennec!” You cried exasperatedly. “Thank you, again, but can you give me a little warning please?”

“Don’t keep getting caught, then.” It sounded like she was trying not to laugh. “Drop.”

You did as she said with a groan of annoyance, ignoring the chuckle she finally let loose as a trooper thudded on the hard ground right beside you.

“They’re like bugs! Where are they all coming from?!”

“Stay down.”

You’d begun to get up but dropped back onto your stomach, covering your head with your hands. Several shots fired in succession, then silence. Turning to look over your shoulder, you thought better of it and stopped, shaking your head as you got back to your feet. “I’m not even gonna look.”

“You’re welcome…. Again.”

“Yeah, yeah, I owe you a drink, Fennec, I know.”

“A good one.”

“The best.”

All the joking fell out of her tone. “We’re on. Start your run.”

The beeps of the console and the engine firing up filled your ear as Boba confirmed, “On my way.”

“Fennec, you and Cara focus on them. I’ve got it covered up here.”

“Well, we’ve got it covered down here,” Din’s voice countered.

“Too bad, Tin Can. Fennec, help them.”

“Sorry, Mando. She’s promised me a drink.”

Din groaned in understanding. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Sorry you didn’t get to take the quiet way out,” you offered Din, running to the edge of the roof.

He huffed out a laugh. “That’s okay. We’re taking the scenic route.”

“The scenic route?!” Mayfeld’s voice boomed in your ear, making you wince. “Was this always the plan? Because I was not included in these discussions.”

“Oh, you mean like I wasn’t included in that whole thing you just pulled down there in the main commons?” Din’s tone was dry.

Mayfeld chuckled nervously. “Look, I got us out in one piece, didn’t I?”

“That’s still being proven,” you mumbled. Helping Din and Mayfeld up over the edge onto the roof, you all ducked when a new wave of troopers began shooting at your small group. 

One of the troopers tried to sneak around to the side but was quickly dropped by your friends sniping on the ridge.

“Osik! Di’kut!” You hissed. (“Shit!”) (“Idiot!”)

Mayfeld turned to you. “What?”

You looked at him wide eyed. “Oh. Sorry, no I-” you waved your hands as you explained, ducking further below the outcropping the three of you had dodged behind as more shots bounced off the top. “I meant ‘shit, these troopers are idiots’.” 

He nodded. “Oh.” Then shook his head and stared at you. “What?” 

It took you a second, but you stood up once the blaster fire slowed, running for the edge when you heard Boba’s ship approaching. “Have I ever mentioned how smart you are?”

Mayfeld’s steps stuttered. “Huh?”

You stared at the tree line far below with wide eyes before schooling your features and turning back to face him. “Yeah! Mando mentioned you thought of that plan to stall in the main commons. Brilliant move, di’kut. Brilliant.”

He smiled. “Oh, you liked that, huh?”

You turned back toward the edge as Boba’s ship flew over, the ramp lowering. “Mmmm…. It was a plan.” Running at a full sprint, you stepped up onto the edge and leapt across the gap onto the lowered ramp of Boba’s ship. 

Turning once you found your footing, you held out a hand toward the two men, yelling over the roar of the engines. “Jump! I’ve got you!”

Din was the first to jump across, not even hesitating.

And to his credit, neither did Mayfeld, but he did let out a terrified yell the whole way across. Din helped him up and further into the ship as Boba began to fly off.

Mayfeld paused, turning back to the base with a haunted look before motioning toward Din. “Hand me that cycler rifle.”

You knew that look on Mayfeld’s face. You saw it every time you looked in any reflective surface lately. He was fighting his demons.

Din handed him the rifle leaning just inside Boba’s ship, and looked at you with a shrug.

You watched as a Mayfeld lifted the rifle, braced it against his shoulder, and took aim. 

With a single shot he took out one of the transports filled with rhydonium parked on the roof, making it explode in a ball of fire and causing a chain reaction that left the base in flames.

“Nice shot,” Fennec mused in your ear, and you could hear Cara’s bewildered hum of agreement from somewhere beside her.

Mayfeld turned to head into the ship, pausing in front of Din and meeting his visor. “We all need to sleep at night.”

Din turned to face you, finding you staring down at the base with your arms crossed over your chest. “Come on, mesh’la. We need to go and strap in.”

“It’s my fault.”

He took a step closer, his chest brushing along your shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“The officer I got the uniform from, I…. I knocked her out, left her in a closet. Now with the base going up, I…. She may have gotten out if she wasn’t unconscious, or at least had the chance to run, but because of me…. If I hadn’t….”

“Hey, get your asses in here and strapped down.” Mayfeld yelled to be heard over the roar of the wind rushing around the open ramp. “They’ll be sending TIE fighters soon.”

Turning, you walked side by side with Din, his hand on your lower back as you went to the first two available seats, Din beside Mayfeld and you across from both of them, quickly strapping in.

Boba’s voice came over the comms, “We got company.” Alarms were blaring. “Hang on.”

As the ship took a sharp turn, Din grunted, his arms flailing comically in the abrupt gravity shift.

“It’s not your fault,” he ground out.

“What’s not?” Mayfeld asked.

“She thinks that if the guard she got the uniform from dies in the fire you set because she was unconscious and unable to move, that it was her fault.”

Mayfeld turned to you with knit brows, groaning as Boba took another sharp turn. “No, no, that’s all me. It would be my fault. I set the fire.”

“But I-”

“Doesn’t matter,” he cut you off. “It’s mine. You can’t take it from me. I own that.” The ship evened out, and he sighed in relief. “You worry about that little green guy. Yeah, him and brown eyes over here.” He jerked his head toward Din. “Let me worry about that other stuff.”

“Brown eyes, huh?” You narrowed your brows at Din.

“I’ll explain later,” he said so lowly you barely heard him.

Xxx

You stayed in the main area of the ship, reattaching your weapons to your belt while Din and Mayfeld changed back into their own clothes. 

Of course Mayfeld was ready long before Din was, since he didn’t have all the armor to put back on. He sidled up to you with a small smile, watching you polish your blaster before seating it back in its holster. 

You opened your mouth to say something but stopped and shook your head.

“What?” He asked curiously.

“No, no, never mind.” You waved him off.

“What?” He laughed over the words. “What is it?”

“You said you didn’t want to hear Mando’a ever again.”

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged and rolled his eyes, “it’s grown on me.”

You grinned. “Burc'ya vaal burk'yc, burc'ya veman.” He narrowed his eyebrows at you. “You want me to translate?” (“A friend during danger is a true friend.”)

He thought for a moment, looking down at the ground before he smiled. “Nah.” Pulling his eyes up to yours, it was the first truly friendly, open, and honest expression you’d seen on his face since meeting him days ago. “Nah, I’m good.” He leaned in closer to you, his voice lowering near a whisper. “I think I get the gist.” Standing up straight, Mayfeld’s face took on a mischievous look. “Hey, Mando! Your girl here just professed her undying love for me!” Sending a wink your way, Mayfeld was grinning from ear to ear.

“Yeah?” Mando called from around the corner where he was still attaching his armor.

“Yeah! What are ya gonna do about it?”

“Well….” He came around the corner, adjusting his vambraces. “Killing you sounds like the obvious first step.”

“Me?” Mayfeld asked in shock. “What about her?”

Din shrugged. “Everybody makes mistakes.”

Glowering at Mayfeld, you reached out and shoved his shoulder. “That’s the last time I’m nice to you.”

“No, don’t say that,” he grinned, starting down the ramp. He paused, turning to face you one more time. “But, just…. Will you answer me one thing that’s been bothering me?”

You sighed. “I’ll try.”

“Why’s the little green guy so important to you? I mean besides him?” Mayfeld pointed at Din.

“She’s his buir,” Boba said, walking past from the cockpit and down the ramp. He paused halfway down, turning to clarify, “He’s her son.” (“Mother.”)

Mayfeld’s head snapped back from Boba to you, looking you up and down quickly, eyes wide. “Your…. Are you a changeling or somethin’?”

Boba came back in, hooked a finger inside the front of Mayfeld’s shirt and dragged him down the ramp.

“So how old are you really? ‘Cause I could have sworn….” Mayfeld trailed off when Boba turned to him with an arched brow. “….that you didn’t look a day over….” The second brow shot up. “….the weather is great here, isn’t it?”

“I take it back,” you mumbled, watching Boba pull him down the ramp. “There may be some disagreement over whether it’s Cara or Boba that ends up doing him in.”

As his voice trailed off once they were near the bottom of the ramp, you turned to Din. “Why’d he call you brown eyes?”

Din sighed the heaviest sigh you’d ever seen him give. “I had to remove my helmet for the scanner to scan my face.” He just stared at your wide eyed expression before he went on. “Then one of the higher ranking officers roped us into drinks before I could get it back on. To cover for me, Mayfeld said everyone just called me brown eyes.” He saw the smile starting to turn up your face, and held up a finger in warning. “No. Don’t even start.”

“Oh, yes. That’s going into my rotation.” You reached out to place your hand on his forearm. “But, Din…. You showed your face. What does that mean?”

“I…. I don’t know. Technically the machine isn’t a living being, so it doesn’t count, and if you want all the loopholes, it wasn’t my helmet, all the others who saw me are dead-”

“Except Mayfeld.”

“I can fix that.” His hand went to his blaster.

You laughed. Really laughed, head tossed back and eyes shut for the first time in weeks. “No, Din.”

He groaned in annoyance. “He handed me the helmet back at the end and told me he never saw my face, so I guess I owe him, anyway.”

Both of you started down the ramp. “So how were drinks with an Imp?”

Din grunted, making you laugh. “Didn’t even get to finish my drink.” 

You smirked, thinking back to all the times at the bar he’d slide you his drink when his contact would never show. “That’s nothing new.”

Cara was talking to Mayfeld a few feet from the bottom of the ramp.

“The saber get you?” Cara laughed.

Mayfeld just blinked at her. “What saber? Did you see the look she gave me? Also, she must be a changeling, because scary green Mando said-”

Cara whacked him on the back of the head. “She’s a Jedi, you idiot.”

“Oh, great, a Mandalorian and a wizard. What a lovely couple.”

“Gets the job done,” you mumbled close to his ear, making him jump in surprise. “And no, I’m not a changeling, di’kut. Not all families are made. Some are found.”

Nodding, Mayfeld turned to Din. “Well, looks like it’s back to the scrap heap.”

Din sighed. “Thank you for helping.”

Mayfeld turned to you, pointing at the Mandalorian. “You’re good for him. Keep doing whatever it is you’re doing. You make him better.” He looked back at Din with a grin, lifting his hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “Yeah. Uh, good luck gettin’ your kid back.” Turning to Cara with a smirk, he held out his hands cupped together like they were bound. “All right, Officer, take me back.”

Cara’s expression was tight as she studied him for a moment. “That was some nice shootin’ back there.”

Arching a brow at Cara, you made your way back up the ramp, leaning on the opening at the top like you had at the junkyard. 

“Oh, you saw that? Yeah, that, uh, that wasn’t part of the plan.” He shrugged, a pleased grin tugging up one side of his mouth. “I, uh…. I was just gettin’ some stuff off my chest.”

Letting out a huff through her nose, Cara rolled her eyes as she turned to face Din, making it look like the sarcastic movement of her eyes had set her body in motion. “You know, it’s too bad Mayfeld didn’t make it out alive back there.”

Din nodded. “Yeah, too bad.”

Looking between them, Mayfeld looked alarmed. “What are you talkin’ about?”

Cara glanced at him and sighed heavily before trying again, her tone tight as she spelled it out. “Looked to me like prisoner number three-four-six-six-seven died in the refinery explosion on Morak.”

His eyes shot open wide. “Does that mean I can go?” He looked between them. “Huh? ‘Cause I will.”

You started laughing softly before yelling at him playfully. “Oh, get out of here already!”

Mayfeld turned to look at you, grinning at your raised eyebrows before turning back to the other two, and taking a step back when Din jerked his head to the side to motion him away. “All right. Okay.” He chuckled, walking gingerly at first, as if they would take it all back, then his steps turned stilted for a few strides before he broke into a brisk walk. He looked over his shoulder once, meeting your gaze with a confident grin as he came to a stop. “Bye, mesh’la.”

Din took a step toward him, hand on his blaster, making Mayfeld take another quick step away, holding his hands up in surrender as he smirked.

“I’m goin’, I’m goin’.” Looking at you one more time, he winked, then turned and started walking quickly again.

“Bye, di’kut,” you called after him.

He froze, shaking his head gently, but didn’t turn around, just kept going and disappeared over the ridge.

You turned toward Din, finding him looking at you with his head tilted in question. “What? You know what it means.” You smirked, pushing off the wall and heading into the ship. “He still doesn’t.” Laughter began to bubble out of your chest. “But I wish I could be there when he finally does figure it out. I would pay good money to see the look on his face.” You walked past Fennec. “Now about that drink I owe you….”

Xxx

It was the end of the whole mission. You had the coordinates, and were on your way through hyperspace to recruit more help.

But for now, you just needed to rest your eyes…. Just for a moment…. All the little uses of the Force today had caught up with you, and the physical exertion of fighting a wave of troopers….

“We’re recording,” Boba said softly, pushing a button on the small control panel Din had been sitting at on the way to Morak. 

You let your eyes drift shut as you listened to Din’s voice while he recorded his message to Gideon. His threat to Gideon. His promise. 

“Moff Gideon. You have something I want. You may think you have some idea what you are in possession of, but you do not. Soon, he will be back with me. He means more to me than you will ever know.”

Xxx

Turning, you strode out of the cantina, ignoring Din’s calls at your back.

“Mesh’la!”

Finally a gloved hand wrapped around your elbow, pulling you to a stop, but not before you ripped your arm out of his hold.

Rounding on him, you turned to stare at his visor with a flat expression. “What?” 

But you found no one there. Instead you were in a black void, surrounded by mist creeping in all around, the thick haze closing in on all sides as you turned to try and find a way of escape.

As the fog curled around you, its tendrils wrapping around like fingers, it took on a soft green glow, and a faint hum you couldn’t quite place filled the air. 

It dawned on you just as the haze parted to show you a tiny little silhouette you’d recognize anywhere.

A saber. The hum was a saber.

“Kid!” You called, running toward the shadow, but just as you reached him, bending down to scoop him up, the figure evaporated into more green mist, falling through your fingertips as you stared at your empty hands.

A gloved hand on your shoulder pulled your attention away. You turned to Din, but you wouldn’t look up. Somehow you knew his helmet was off, so you screwed your eyes shut and kept your face turned down just to be safe.

“Open your eyes, mesh’la.”

You’d heard his voice unmodulated many times, but for some reason, this time it caught you off guard, and you couldn’t find the words to respond. 

You pulled away just a bit, mouth opening and closing but nothing came out. Your eyebrows narrowed in confusion, eyes still tightly closed.

Din reached up and put his gloved hands over yours on his face gently, pressing them down, threading his fingers through yours and clutching them tightly, the leather of his gloves creaking as he did. He spoke quietly, his voice almost a whisper as he said it again, almost pleadingly.

“Open your eyes.”

Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter open, finding the courage to lift them.

The world began the shake gently, Din evaporating in front of you just like the kid had, turning to mist between your fingertips.

“Mesh’la.”

How could you still hear his voice? What-

“Mesh’la, wake up. You’re going to get a stiff neck if you sleep there.” A hand on your shoulder shook you gently.

Blinking your eyes open, quickly squinting under the low lights of the hull of Boba’s ship, you groaned softly, screwing them shut once again as you lightly shoved Din away with a hand on his chest. “Go away.”

He chuckled softly, scooping you up and carrying you with one hand under your knees, the other around your back. “Good thing I’m not deterred so easily.”

“I was having such a strange dream….” You grumbled into his neck as you tucked your face further into his cowl to hide from any remaining light trying to wake you up.

“Want to talk about it?” He sat on the floor in a secluded corner of the main hull with a groan, his back leaning against the wall as he situated you in his lap, holding you close.

You smiled as memories of the early days of your adventures came back, almost exactly this same position against some rocks on Tatooine.

“It was green, and foggy, and…. You were there. The kid, too. But not really. You were both apparitions. You took off your helmet and told me to open my eyes….” Din froze underneath you, his thumbs lightly tracing patterns on your arms stuttering before beginning their lazy draw again. “I’m sure it was just a weird manifestation of everything that happened on Morak. Just my brain processing everything…. Brown Eyes.”

Din huffed out a laugh. “Probably.”

You yawned. “I’m going to go back to sleep now, if that’s okay.” Burrowing further into his neck, you frowned when you felt him adjust your head slightly, but smiled when you felt the cool touch of beskar lightly kiss your forehead before he tucked your head back where you’d had it.

“Sleep, mesh’la.” His voice was low, and almost there himself. “Sleep.”

Xxx

Tags to come!

[jennyboom21]

Over the next two days, we’ll be getting into all that and more with hours of presentations and deep-dive analyses. This is set to be a smallish, grassroots-y gathering—only 25 in-person campers are enrolled plus a dozen or so volunteers running the show. Meanwhile, about 300 remote Gaylors have signed up for streaming access to the learning sessions, building on the success of a virtual Gaylor summit that happened last year.

As a Gaylor myself, I’d be here even if Cosmo hadn’t sent me. I introduce myself to campers as we craft cute name tags for ourselves in the lobby of the Craigville Retreat Center. I meet Morgan, 30, who came here from conservative small-town Wisconsin, where she’s been living with her parents due to some unspecified tumult in her life. “I am desperate to be around gay people,” she tells me. When she heard about Camp Gaylore, “I jumped at the opportunity to come here and feel a sense of community.”

Paris, 25, a Boston-based attendee who grew up in Arizona, agrees. “With everything that’s happening legislatively right now, it’s really important to be able to find spaces where you’re able to be with like-minded individuals and feel safe and comfortable expressing yourself.”

Nevada, 25, a newcomer to the Gaylor realm, tells me they were able to attend only thanks to a scholarship the camp offered to defray the $350 tuition cost. “I really thought this was a dreamland that was completely out of reach for me,” they say. Just being here, in congress with others, feels like some kind of miracle.

So maybe I should revise: This weekend is about decoding Taylor Swift songs...but only sort of.

I didn’t travel far to get here, but I’ve come a long way. Four summers ago, I left my marriage to a straight man, right around the time Taylor released Lover. I had a passing familiarity with her oeuvre but didn’t consider myself much of a fan. I was crashing with friends—a lesbian couple—while searching for a new home and striving to create a more openly queer life for myself. With its pastel cover and pro-LGBTQ+ anthem “You Need to Calm Down,” Lover got a ton of airplay in that two-bedroom apartment. And the breakup songs—“Death by a Thousand Cuts,” “I Forgot That You Existed”—certainly spoke to me. But given everything I was going through, Taylor’s music felt like little more than a fluffy distraction.

Jump cut to the following July, when Taylor surprise-released folklore. Every lesbian I knew seemed weirdly excited for this album. With my divorce freshly finalized, I now had the bandwidth to dig in. I discovered Gaylor theories on TikTok and plunged into Taylor’s discography with an eye toward gay themes. For the first time, I listened—really listened—to 2017’s Reputation, an album marketed as Taylor not caring about her press coverage but could just as easily be about a secret queer romance powerful enough to blow up her life. This notion, of hiding in plain sight while inhabiting a straight-presenting persona, resonates deeply for me in queer readings of Taylor’s work.

Here at Camp Gaylore (alternately known as GayloreFest), the analysis is served up with mock-academic gravitas. “We all love to cosplay that we’re professors in this field of Gaylor education,” explains Madyson, 23, a camp co-organizer who hails from New York. To wit, the workshop lineup includes sessions like: “Darling, Everything’s on Fire”: An Exploration of The Hunger Games Through Taylor Swift’s Discography; Unpacking Parasocial Relationships: A Conversation in Favor of Imagination & Community; Friends of Fletcher: Themes in the Music and Visuals of Sapphic Singers & Songwriters; and “Now I’m Your Daisy”: Reimagining The Great Gatsby as Gilded Sapphic Fantasy.

What’s happening here is really nothing new—Gaylors are performing the kind of close reading that happens in pretty much every English lit seminar. For campers like Amanda, 30, a longtime Swiftie who discovered Gaylor theories during the pandemic while awakening to her own queerness, this interpretative exercise is more meaningful than the objective facts of Taylor’s sexuality. “I’m not over here trying to convert people like, ‘Hey, Taylor is gay, and it’s really important to me that you believe that,’” Amanda says. “It’s more about Taylor being this incredible writer who intertwines all these incredible things into her lyrics.”

“We are not the first gaggle of gays to go book a conference center and hang out with each other for a weekend just to talk and gab,” Madyson says. “It just so happens that we all met because Taylor Swift put out some bangin’-ass albums.”

“I don’t even care if she comes out,” Madyson adds. “I actually would prefer she didn’t because I think it’s more fun this way.”

After I check into my single room—a rustic BYO-bed-sheets situation—I return to the common area and settle in for the afternoon’s presentations. Remote presenters will be streaming from all over. A few campers here will be presenting too—streaming from a dedicated quiet room elsewhere on the property. In the common space, all sessions will be projected onto a wall.

And here I have to admit that I end up…not paying much attention to the material. In the best possible way, neither do many of the other campers. I watch as they focus on making friendship bracelets, add artistic flourishes to Gaylor-themed coloring pages, and paint each other’s nails. Chatty groups check in on solo folks: “Are you good by yourself? Would you like to come over here with us?” Sometimes a comfy silence envelops the room. A few campers even nap on couches, the presentation audio forming a sort of pleasant background drone.

This dynamic is striking in its chillness—different from most camps and retreats, where schedules are packed with structured group activities. Kae, a 26-year-old from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan, much prefers the format here. Although Gaylor TikTok was helpful in “expediting” her awareness of her own bisexuality, she finds the noise of social media kind of bad for her mental health. Camp Gaylore feels like the 3D version of a friendly Gaylor group chat she joined on WhatsApp a few months ago, she says. “It’s nice, having a much smaller source of information and also a place where you can just be yourself and be accepted.”

Presentation topics aside, Taylor’s aura at camp is surprisingly scarce. The aesthetic is one of nostalgic/analog summer whimsy. Think: String lights and wildflowers. Salt air and disco balls. Strawberries and rainbow balloons. An activity table set up by camp staffers includes a deck of botanical oracle cards, the social-bonding game We’re Not Really Strangers, and a handful of book selections ranging from Emily Dickinson poems to contemporary works by queer authors like adrienne maree brown.

It’s almost as though the organizers plucked a handful of nice humans off the internet and closed tab on literally everything else, a welcome break. Gaylorism in general is Very Online—born on Tumblr, increasingly huge on TikTok. Along with Madyson, camp co-organizer Katie, 30, recently wrapped a popular Gaylor podcast called The Archers, the duo’s contribution to a booming cottage industry of queer-minded Swiftie content. (Madyson has already launched another pod.) Tess, 30, a London-based camp co-organizer, is a prolific Gaylor creator too. This camp is the group’s way of passing the mic to others to invite their perspectives, to “recognize the brilliance and beauty of our community,” as Tess puts it. There’s even been talk of starting a literary-style magazine that goes beyond Taylor and into the open waters of, well, gay lore. That’s why the camp name has an “e” at the end—an indicator of deeper possibilities.

Gaylor subculture has now gotten big enough to attract coverage from major media outlets, some of it less than favorable—a Salon article last fall compared Gaylors to QAnon. Many face harassment from a hostile cohort of Swifties known as Hetlors, notorious for a queerphobic insistence that Taylor is straight. Bullying from Hetlors has driven some Gaylors to go dark and wipe their social accounts, which explains why most here at Camp Gaylore have asked that Cosmo publish their first names only.

Taylor herself is outspoken in her LGBTQ+ advocacy—granted, as more of an ally. “I didn’t realize until recently that I could advocate for a community that I’m not a part of,” she told Vogue in 2019. But as many Gaylors like to point out, that’s not quite the same as Taylor declaring she’s 100 percent straight and cisgender either. For now, the details of her identity remain anyone’s guess.

“In a cisheteronormative world, we are more likely to assume people to be cis and straight until told otherwise than to assume they’re trans or queer,” says Melissa A. Fabello, PhD, a sex and relationships educator. Her group coaching session this weekend, titled “The Bisexuality Crisis,” will address this very subject.

Camp Gaylore’s idyllic seaside haven is blessedly Hetlor-free. Madyson, who sometimes struggles to socialize in groups, tells me they feel “soothed” mingling on our private stretch of beach. This weekend has always been more about reinforcing the Gaylorverse than dissecting Taylor’s suspected queerness. “It is very much for people to meet and see each other physically and be like, This community is just as real offline as it is online,” Madyson says. In the sand, they spell out GAYLORE in dozens of tiny seashells.

We head to dinner in the large dining hall for a taco buffet—a communal setup that amuses Nevada. “This is so sweet, like the positive parts of going inpatient at the psych ward,” they joke. Then an earnest elaboration: “It’s just nice that other people understand what I’m thinking. I don’t have to explain a million things. I don’t have to be like, Okay, I guess I’ll let you ignore my pronouns. It’s a very good space.”

Afterward, we gather around an outdoor firepit for s’mores and impromptu performances. One camper breaks out an acoustic guitar and shares songs she wrote during a period of homelessness. Her voice is husky and powerful—a howl of survival. A few campers pass around a bong. Inside jokes are hatched. “As cliché as it sounds, I do feel like I’ve known these people forever,” says Lee, 33, a camper from California who credits Gaylor theories with fueling her lesbian awakening seven years ago. For her, this night is “cathartic.”

In the 10 o’clock hour, everyone heads back inside to watch the livestream of the Eras Tour. This has been a ritual for many of us since Taylor hit the road in March. Lots of campers have been tracking the surprise acoustic songs she performs each night—one or two per show, with no repeats from the pre-Midnights archive unless she messes up.

Tonight, Taylor is in Pittsburgh. One member of the Gaylor community—not at camp with us but someone who’s friends with a few campers—has been publicly campaigning for Taylor to play “ME!” at this stop, a track many Gaylors love (see: the big gay energy of its music video). Taylor playing “ME!” would be everything, a definitive acknowledgement of us.

As the livestream plays, campers string together bead bracelets with Gaylor references—the letters “SITBTTEBM” (“She is the best thing that’s ever been mine”), the phrase “WIDE EYED GAYS” (an intentional misspelling of the “All Too Well” lyric). Then the first surprise song begins: It’s “Mr. Perfectly Fine,” off Fearless. Everyone groans. The second song is a miss too: “The Last Time,” from Red. So much for “ME!”

Everyone is super bummed. A few campers even cry a little bit. But there’s beauty in the heartbreak too—something profound and unifying in our shared disappointment. “Even if Taylor were to go away and never do another thing, I feel like we still have this,” Amanda tells me later. “And that’s really cool.”

The big social event of the weekend, on the second and final night, is prom. Given that it’s being held in the retreat’s tabernacle building, camp staffers have printed out a color picture of Jesus, along with big letters that spell out “LYRICS TOO?”—a cheeky nod to the fact that we’re in a house of worship but mostly a deep-cut Gaylor reference (to something once uttered by Taylor’s pal and collaborator Jack Antonoff). A tattooed camp staffer DJs from a heavily stickered laptop, next to a whirling party light that scatters rainbow beams throughout the space.

Many of our prom looks are encoded with Taylor allusions. One camper wears a tiered, ruffled frock in pastel hues, à la Taylor’s Lover era. Another, channeling the Reputation album art, dons a matching corset and skirt in newsprint-pattern fabric. Still another is turned out in the crochet crop tank Taylor wore while promoting Midnights, its colors a near-perfect match for the lesbian pride flag tacked to one wall.

“Cruel Summer”—a Gaylor fave, theoretically chronicling Taylor’s rumored relationship with supermodel Karlie Kloss—blasts from the speakers. The dance floor fills up. We scream-sing the lines about sneaking in through the garden gate, about the shape of a lover’s body being new. As the song reaches its bridge, our collective joy turns incandescent.

“It felt like 70,000 of us in the room,” Lee marvels the next day as campers pack up to leave. “This was the most magical weekend of my summer—and I’ve been to the Eras Tour twice.”

Frankie de la Cretaz is the co-author of Hail Mary: The Rise and Fall of The National Women's Football League. Their work has been featured in The New York Times, The Atlantic, Rolling Stone, and more.

[crawlspacefics]

Tangled Web (Chapter 6) - Throwback Thursday edition

Some grandmotherly advice, a date gone wrong, another gone right, and Rei being surprisingly good at telling stories.

Kaya walked over and sat beside her grandmother.  She sat Miki in her lap so he could lean against her, while Hana smiled widely and fussed over him.  After a few minutes, Miki started to smile back and laughed as his tummy was tickled.

“I must say,” Kaya interjected into their game, “that you have handled all of this remarkably well.”

Hana’s smile softened.  “Well, Ami always was a bit different.  And it’s like I’ve always told you, times may change, but people don’t.  Just because we didn’t talk openly about certain things when I was young, doesn’t mean they weren’t happening.  We just understood discretion better back then.  These days, no one cares who knows what.  Though, it would have been much better if someone had told me clearly so I wouldn’t have seemed so foolish when they were introduced.”  She let the baby grab onto her fingers and pull them into his mouth. 

As he began his drooly gnawing, she added, “Besides, it would have been difficult finding a suitable husband for her.  Most men of accomplishment can’t handle being overshadowed by their wives, and Ami would have been unhappy if she was forced to be less than she is.  This way, she is as respected as she is loved, she has her family, and she has a healthy son to take care of her in her old age.  It’s all worked out very well for her.  Now, we just have to deal with you.”

Kaya smirked as playful blue eyes peered up at her through thick lenses.  “Don’t forget Kyo.  He has yet to marry and reproduce.”

“I’ve given up on the boy,” said Hana dismissively.  “A woman wants a husband, not an overgrown child.  He’s a good boy; he takes care of his parents and works hard.  He just isn’t proper marrying material.”

“If I recall, you said the same about me,” returned Kaya.  Then she handed the baby to Hana and got up to retrieve his bag.

Hana bounced the baby on her lap until Kaya came back, and as the younger woman wiped the spit from Miki’s chin, she went on, “You don’t make a proper wife.  That hasn’t changed.  But this man doesn’t seem to be looking for someone to keep his house and bear his children.”

“It’s a good thing, too,” chuckled Kaya.  “Or he’d be looking somewhere else.”

“So why aren’t you married yet?  Or is that why you’re here?”

Kaya sighed at the almost hopeful tone in her grandmother’s voice.  “Why does everyone just assume I want to marry him?”

“Because this is exactly what you did the last time,” answered Hana.  “You never bring anyone home.  Even when you were young, it was a challenge just for us to meet your friends.  Your parents still think you were a chaste and studious teenager.  But you brought this man home, all on your own, so there must be something that compelled you to do it.  What else do you expect us to think?”

Kaya opened her mouth to answer, then closed it and shrugged.  Even Miki seemed to be looking at her expectantly, waiting for her answer.  “I just wanted to,” she said finally.  “There isn’t any more to it than that.  Things work well right now the way they are, and I’m not in a hurry to change them.”

“Is that so?” said Hana.  Then she nodded.  “All right.  As long as you’re happy.  But you know what they say about a man and his cow, don’t you?  If you keep giving it to him for free, he will become lazy, complacent, and bloated, and will go looking for a new udder when yours runs dry.”

Kaya’s jaw dropped.  She blinked, incredulous, then stuttered out, “Gram, I… I don’t have any idea how to respond to that.”

“It doesn’t require a response, dear,” answered Hana.  “You just think about it.”

“I don’t think I want to,” she responded, her nose wrinkling.

“What a silly girl,” chuckled Hana.  “And don’t think I don’t know where you’ve been sleeping every night.  You always make things so much more complicated than they need to be." 

[abbatoirablaze]

Down The Rabbit Hole, Chapter 13

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: sexual situations

Abed couldn’t help himself as he heard the piano.

The study group had all but agreed that they weren’t going to be going near Mr. Radison, especially while he was trying to recruit them for the Christmas Pageant, but something deep within Abed called for him to go towards the cafeteria. 

He didn’t expect to see you laying on the stage, singing half-heartedly while Mr. Rad was playing.  And he certainly didn’t expect the sight to pull at his heartstrings.

He hadn’t really spoken to you since he’d asked you to officially leave the group, and everyone in it.  You looked as lonely as he’d felt, knowing that the group was going their separate ways for the holidays. 

“What are you still doing here?”

You shot up, pulled from the dreamy like fog that you’d been introduced into when Cory began to talk to you about when you’d been an emergency substitute from the year prior with the rest of the study group. 

You had originally been lost in your thoughts, seduced by the promises of being with the study group, under the guise of being the emergency substitutes for the Glee Club for the Christmas Pageant.

Until you saw Abed. 

“I-I should go,” you said quickly, shaking your head at the music teacher, “I’m sorry Cory.  I’m not interested.  But I hope that you find someone in time.  The Christmas pageant is always a lot of fun…and it’s a good practice run for regionals.”

Mr. Rad frowned, but continued to play as you scurried off.  He looked over his shoulder at Abed to answer his question, “I thought I’d give her one more tinkle, before I took down the decorations.  No Glee Club means no pageant.  That means no Christmas.  Miss. Michaels seemed to have been considering my offer, but there’s no Glee Club with just one person…and from what she was saying, you in the group may have lost your cheerful spirit with her.”

“Who would have thought if you’re trying to make things better, it just would’ve made more darkness.”

“That sounds like a certain ex-lawyer talking.  Was it him that got rid of her because she’s got a free spirit lurking beneath all that work ethic?” he asked.  Abed cocked his head to the side as Mr. Rad turned more towards him, “You know, I see a lot of myself in you, Abed.  You care about your friends.  And you wish that they cared more about each other.  I was just talking about that with Tawney before you came in.  You know, that’s not an easy position to be in sometimes, choosing between your own happiness and the happiness of others…but she seemed resigned in wanting to make a certain someone happy with her...”

“Tell me about it,” he huffed, “I just want my friends to have a Merry Christmas.”

“Well…maybe you could start by giving them the greatest Christmas gift of all…”

“What’s that?”

Mr. Radison smiled as he began to sing, knowing exactly how the study group was going to fall into his trap.

All because of a very vulnerable Abed Nadir.

“Mr. Rad plans on getting every single member of our study group to join the Glee Club!” Annie said as she disappeared behind a curtain to change into a costume.  Jeff’s brows furrowed as he looked around, surprised that he’d been brought to the costume department.

“I don’t know how that’s gonna happen!” he said softly, “not only do we all have plans, but all of us seem to be in agreement that we don’t want to do that stupid pageant…so I don’t get how it could work.”

“It’s a great plan that Mr. Rad set up.  Here, ’ll show you!” she said openly, stepping out from behind the curtain in a Mrs. Claus costume complete with black thigh highs.

His eyes went wide. 

“Wh-“

“This is just one of the many costume changes I’ll be doing for the show,” she said quickly, playing with the bottom hem of her dress, “we’re a shoo-in for regionals, right?”

“Annie, you too?” he asked, stepping forward, more confused now than ever, “this is beneath you!  You are an intelligent woman.  Also, you’re Jewish!”

“I guess I have a lot to learn about holiday tradition then,” she said innocently enough, while putting a boa around her shoulders.  She began to shimmy against the curtain as she started singing, “teach me how to understand Christmas.”

“Annie…”

She moved to the fabric cart and pushed it over towards him, before grabbing a bolt of fabric and holding it in front of her pubic bone, “show me how to open a box.”

“Annie…stop…”

“It hurts my little head, when I’m lying in my bed, with visions of sugar plum socks?” she sang.

“Is this a bit?”

“Teach me how to understand Christmas,” she smiled, walking him back to the chair and sitting him down.  She wrapped her boa around his shoulders and stepped between his legs, “do I trim the tree, or the deer?  I can’t keep it straight, and now it’s getting late.  Where do the stockings go?  HERE?  I can’t see!”

She put the stocking over her head, before pulling it up into a hat, “what’s a Christmas eve? Is that Santa’s lady?  Or snowmen cold or hot?  Won’t you be my daddy, I’m a silly Christmas baby.  Tell me what to deck, hehe.  Cause I forgot.”

“Annie, get off…I’m with Tawney!” he said firmly, shifting so that he pushed her off his lap. 

“OOOF!” she hmphed, falling to the floor.  She turned around and crawled on her hands and knees, bucking as she went, “brain hurty undie-stand-y Cwistmas.  Mistletoe for eaty taste good?”

“Annie stop!” Jeff demanded, slapping the mistletoe out of her hands.

“You smarty, me dumb! Help pwetty have fun.  Boopy doopy doop boop sex!” she exclaimed, grabbing the front of his head and pulling it towards her chest while she straddled his leg. 

“Eventually you hit a point of diminishing returns on sexiness.”

“What’s a dimini-“ she began, but ended up babbling as she played with the hem of her dress once more.

“Annie…this isn’t working on me…” he sighed, gently guiding her back off his leg, “I-I’m with Tawney.  She’s my girlfriend, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I-I’m in love, and I don’t want anyone else other than her.  I’m in love with her!  And you can’t break that up, or try to get me to join Glee Club with some half-witted attempt of sex appeal…”

Annie stared at him blankly as he stood up and he removed his hands from her, “you’re a sweet girl…but this-it’s not what I want.”

Jeff sighed contentedly as his arms pulled you even closer.

“Jeff…I-I have to go…”

“But baby, it’s cold outside…” he hummed against your ear.  You closed your eyes, and snuggled into him, not entirely wanting to leave yourself.

“I really must go!”

“Baby, it’s cold outside!” he hummed yet again, pressing a series of kisses down your throat.  Your eyes opened as you realized he wasn’t just responding to you.

He was singing. 

You could hear him humming the melody.

“Jeff…”

“Mind if I move in closer?”

“Jeffrey…ar-are you singing?”

He continued to hum happily against your side.

You didn’t want to fall into it. 

But the warmth of his fireplace against you, combined with the warmth radiating off him.  It almost seemed like too much. 

His lips covered yours as you whispered your answer and began to hum along to his melody. 

“We’re a shoo-in for regionals, Tawney…”

Chapter 14

Tag List:  @lohnes16, @mckeeee-1

[dreamwritesimagines]

I need more of the Anthony in Paris HC!!!!

Like how were they introduced? I know he was stunned when he first saw her and probably pointed her out to Elias, "Anthony, my friend. You do not know true enchantment until you've found yourself a French Paramour. Pick one, and I shall introduce you."

"...what about that one?"

"Which one?"

"The one by the fountain, in green. That's the first true beauty I've seen since you dragged me-"

"That one?"

"Yes. Do you know her? She's waving at you."

"Bridgerton, I will make your insides see the sun if you so much as-"

"Anthony Bridgerton, I presume? My brother's told me so much about you!"

And how did they spend time together?

How did Anthony react when someone propositioned her like right in front of him? Like you can't tell me it wouldn't happen, he's Elias's friend, who all French ladies know as a Rake, so they correctly assume that he is as well, so they think nothing of trying to woo her with Anthony right there, they aren't related and he's just as bad as them, how bad could it be? Bad. Very bad. Anthony is outraged and she is bewildered like, "He was so nice, Anthony, why would you speak to him that way?"

"How dare he! Why would I- Does your brother know that gentleman?"

"Elias hardly bothers learning anyone's name here, he says they all blur together."

"Well, I shall remember it. I'll deal with this."

"With what?"

"Nothing, nothing. Let's look for Eli."

What if someone took a chance that Elias was in the city and asked to court her? Anthony just chiming in like, "She's too young."

"Isn't Daphne about to enter her first season, I think they're the same-"

"Different countries. I think your sister would benefit from witnessing an English season before she settles for a husband."

What was it like when Cassie passed away and she comes to England, happy because Elias and her new "friend" Anthony are around but she's obviously dimmed her light after her mother's death and the fact her father doesn't want her? I feel like he wouldn't have said anything like he did before their first dance, he'd know her better and try to cheer her up, trying to return the favor and showing her around London for a change.

People would assume they're courting but she'd openly waved them off and say Anthony is like a brother to her, "he'd never see me that way!"

Cue Anthony's eye twitching.

OOOH MY GOD THIS IS SO AMAZING?! ❤😱😍 Darling you’re incredibly good at this! ❤

I’m so going to fangirl over you so I’m putting this under a read more!

First of all YES! 😂 I totally agree, Anthony probably saw her right away in the crowd, and while Elias was talking about French paramours, he was too busy staring at her because he thought she was very pretty 😂

"Bridgerton, I will make your insides see the sun if you so much as-" ELIAS 😂

Btw I can just imagine Anthony’s expression the moment he hears she’s Elias’s sister 😂

they think nothing of trying to woo her with Anthony right there, they aren't related and he's just as bad as them, how bad could it be? Bad. Very bad. I NEED FURIOUS ANTHONY RIGHT NOW BECAUSE IT WOULD BE HILARIOUS😂

Like, after Anthony got involved and that lord left, Cherie would totally press the issue like,

“Why are you so against me going to Monsieur Laurent’s house to see that artist’s new exhibition? He said there would be a party afterwards.”

“It’s not your type of party.”

“It could be! I enjoy parties a lot, in case you couldn’t tell. I make sure to attend at least three of them a week.”

“I’m willing to bet you haven’t attended one like that."

“Oh I see why you were so opposed to it. Is it because he didn’t invite you?”

“That’s not the reason.”

“You could join the party with me if you wish! I’m sure we would have fun!”

“Please don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“…No reason, that party is a bad idea.”

Lollll Anthony insisting on waiting even if she’s like the same age as Daphne 😂 Meanwhile Elias is like clueless as to why Anthony opposes it so vehemently😂

People would assume they're courting but she'd openly waved them off and say Anthony is like a brother to her, "he'd never see me that way!"

Cue Anthony's eye twitching. I AM SCREAMING-

Anthony would be like dying to tell her because especially if they met before and spent time in France, he probably went back to London head over heels for her, but kept telling himself that he shouldn’t, but when she moved to London…

Everything would change😏

I feel like she would go up to Anthony during a ball, and go like,

“You will not believe what I just heard.”

“What?”

“You know Lord Morris?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Apparently he wants to court me but he was under the impression that we were in a courtship! Can you believe that?”

“…He wants to court you?”

“You’re focusing on the wrong thing—anyways, of course I told him there was no such thing so now he says he will send me flowers tomorrow.”

“What? Morris wants to be your suitor?”

“Yes.”

“He can’t be your suitor.”

“See, this is the exact reason why people think we’re courting Anthony!”

“Maybe they should think that.”

“No they shouldn’t. I understand that you wish to protect me from unsuitable gentlemen because we’re friends and because you’re Elias’s best friend but—”

“Right. That’s the reason.”

“You and I both know you’d never see me that way so sooner or later someone would be able to tell that it’s a lie."

[saintgoths]

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜰɪᴠᴇ

CHAPTER FIVE - ROSALIND CHARM

WORD COUNT - 2,299.

RATING - R 18+ [SEXUAL INNUENDOS, SEXUAL THOUGHTS AND GROOMING].

It wasn’t Ivy’s first day at school, yet her first week, she could say that her first day at school was awkward, being presented at the front of the class and having to introduce herself to other people her own age. It was staggering to a certain extent, to see so much individuals her own age but Ivy pushed the paralysing feeling away from her and used her “Rosalind charm” towards everyone and made herself comfortable to her new surroundings.

Robin and Venus were in separate classes not too far from Ivy’s. Robin in a class of people his age and Venus in a class of people her age, it did take easy for Robin and Ivy to acclimate and shape into new settings, but Venus, was uptight and quite anti-social, precisely because of her condition, as she was also forbidden to speak about it to anyone, even to herself, it did make her more kept to herself.

Ivy understood Isabella’s frustration to an extent, though Ivy wished for her mother to allow Venus to feel comfortable to express her feelings, no matter how afflictive and excruciating it got for Isabella. Venus had the right to speak about her emotions.

“It’s rude you haven’t spoken to me yet.”

Ivy turned to the owner of the comment and was met with pure dark eyes, that hid a short glint behind them, Ivy quickly examined the person and took in their appearance, black messy hair, tall and pale-skinned, Ivy couldn’t help but remark that the person was attractive, but something issued to Ivy that this was a very impish and frolicsome person but that impish and playful energy he gave off made the Rosalind girl intrigued.

“Rowan Sparke,” he introduced himself, pushing his hand towards Ivy to shake.

Out of amenities, Ivy shook the so-called Rowan Sparke’s hand and acquainted her name, “Ivy Rosalind.”

“I know,” he comically hummed, “everyone knows who you are,” he winked as he made his way towards his seat, Ivy shyly smiled, slightly surprised that anyone openly showed tender interest towards her, though the new girl didn’t want to jump into conclusions about any romantic feelings Rowan could have for her in the future, she wished she wasn’t so idealistic.

“Well, pleased to meet you Ro---”

“And that is not happening,” Isabella suddenly felt an avaricious grip wrap around her arm that then dragged her away from Rowan. It didn’t take Ivy long to notice that it was Dina who pulled her away from the man with Ellie and Jesse behind her who silently agreed with Dina who took Ivy away.

“Rowan is a big no, no,” Ellie mentioned to Ivy who then sat on her chair she has been sitting on ever since she entered Jackson Community School, she surrounded herself with Ellie, Dina and Jesse; they sat on single seats that had a desk connected to it, there were four rows of seats in class and there were five columns of desks and chairs; the group of four claiming the third row as Rowan sat at the back.

“And why is that?”

“He’s just a dick,” Ellie responded during the moment she sat herself down onto her unassigned, well assigned to her, seat. Ellie and Ivy sat in the middle of the of the row whilst Jesse sat at the end and Dina sat at the beginning of the row.

Well compared to Ellie and Dina, Jesse didn’t dislike Rowan as much as the girls, he did find Rowan funny but the characteristic that displeased Dina and Ellie is that he just had a very slick mouth. Ivy remained silent just as class began to start, and the conversation between Ivy and Isabella returned to her mind and she thought about the three teenagers that sat with her, and did wonder how future events would proceed.

Of course, Ivy liked having them as friends and if Ivy was being true to herself, she did want her bond between Ellie and her to grow stronger, romantically, but with Dina and Jesse also having a tender emotion towards Ellie, all Ivy could think that the outcome of this situation was prone to go dreadful.

It was time for Isabella’s thirty-minute break from the diner she worked at, thankfully, it wasn’t as overwhelming like the time Seth and Isabella spoke for the first time. Yet, the woman wished she had at least a cigarette to smoke but she doubted they sold it, nevertheless, the widowed woman waited for travellers to entire their community so she could have the opportunity to hunt for a packet.

Only Ivy and Robin knew that Isabella smoked, the year Venus was born was the year Isabella stopped her smoking habit, only because she couldn’t find anymore. So, it’s not like she verily wanted to do it.

“I’m Kaylee."

Isabella jumped out of surprise and her response caused the two individuals who stood in front of her to chuckle. Isabella quietly cursed; citizens of Jackson surely liked to snap Isabella back into reality. Isabella looked at this so-called Kaylee and checked that she was a white woman, fully curly brown hair, a youthful face and doe eyes. She wore a light blue flannel, dark grey trousers and low brown boots.

There was a tall man who stood beside her, he looked look like Kaylee, very sweet looking, short curly hair that draped across his forehead, down turned eyes and a brown gaze, similar to Kaylee’s. His nose was slightly hooked and his jaw quite strong with a beauty mole at the bottom right of his jaw. He wore black shirt and black trousers and black boots; it seemed like they must’ve come back from patrol with the attire they were wearing.

“Adam,” the man introduced himself, his voice was deep and coarse, he took his hand out to reach for Isabella who quickly shook his hand, his grip around Isabella’s was quite strong and Isabella was surprised at the intensity he used on her.

“And I’m Isabel-“

“Isabella Rosalind,” Kaylee finished pleasantly jumpy and wired about the woman who stood opposite her.

Isabella slowly rose her head the thought of this conversation was strange to her, she quietly questioned what the two wanted from her, as the three of them stood there in awkward silence.

“Seth, right?” Kaylee softly joked, “he can be such a toad.”

Isabella faintly laughed at the horrible comparison. “Yeah, he’s one hell of a man.”

“Yeah, we saw the interaction the two of you had that day in the diner,” Adam pointed out, “he’s probably upset he’s losing his customers because of you.”

Isabella raised the both of her eyebrows amused. “I guess almost the entire town knows of his distaste towards me,” she blandly chuckled.

“He made it more obvious during the welcoming party, the bonfire night,” Adam once again figured.

Isabella shrugged her shoulders, not really in the state of mind and spirit to speak about the elder man. Kaylee must’ve realised Isabella’s discomfort and out of desperation for her brother’s sake, she brought up a new topic, “your children, you have very beautiful children.”

It seemed to have work due to the fact that Isabella’s distasteful frown was soon replaced by a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

“It must be difficult being a single mother and having to raise three kids,” Kaylee intentionally coughed as she gently swung her body towards Adam.

“I try my best,” Isabella plainly responded, inasmuch Isabella being the keen woman she was, it didn’t take her long to notice that the two of them had something up their sleeves. Isabella didn’t question what it was yet but wanted to be cautious about how she figured the two out.

“After noon Isabella,” Joel walked by and acknowledged his head towards the woman who was appreciative and content about him speaking to her.

Though, she wished that her expectations weren’t so low, withal, there was something about the Miller man that made Isabella want to go on her knees and take him---Isabella quickly snapped out of her thoughts and returned the acknowledgement, “after noon Joel.”

Isabella hoped that Kaylee and Adam didn’t see Isabella drooling for the man, “come to my house warming this Wednesday,” which was two days after this current daytime, she attempted to cover up her erotic thoughts by inviting the two people that Isabella thought were siblings to the house warming she was quietly setting up.

Their eyes seemed to brighten as they accepted her proposal. Isabella then thanked the two for accepting her appeal and conveyed to them that she had to return back to her job, she gestured with her hand a goodbye then turned away from them and hurried back to her work.

“I like your tattoo,” Ivy soundlessly complimented, the tattoo on Ellie’s arm wasn’t completed, it was more like the base before the actual tattoo was permanently inked.

Ellie peered at Ivy with a shy smile, “well, thank you,” she kindly thanked, her apprehensive smile turning into a toothy grin whilst Ivy cautiously peeked at it, her laid-back observation causing her to note of the mark that was on her wrist. “Chemical burn,” Ellie quickly answered, Ellie recorded the sneaky examination Ivy gave to her wrist and swiftly, Ellie informed the lie Joel and her came up with.

“Oh,” Ivy lightly glanced, something in her mind wanted to touch the ‘chemical burn’ on Ellie’s skin, but she wanted to also keep boundaries and not make Ellie weird or uncomfortable. “I’d like to get a tattoo one day, who did yours?”

“My ex-girlfriend Cat,” Ellie replied, quite nostalgic about the girl. Ivy wondered if it would be awkward for her to go to Ellie’s ex-girlfriend for a design, though it wasn’t like Ellie and Ivy were together, so it shouldn’t be flaky if Ivy searched for Cat. Nevertheless, would Isabella even allow Ivy to get one?

Ivy has shown Isabella that she is responsible, and has helped her mother with Venus and Robin, it would be fair if Isabella allowed Ivy to get a tattoo.

“Where would you want a tattoo?”

Ivy gently bounced her shoulders, “probably on my back,” Ivy sluggishly answered.

Ellie knitted the both of her eyebrows upwards, impressed by Ivy’s bold choice. “Nice---”

“Ellie!”

Dina came forward with a smile that beamed that managed to uplift Ellie’s lethargic energy, Ivy bit her bottom lip, insecure and apprehensive about how easy Dina was able to brighten Ellie’s energy, though Ivy pushed the insecurity behind, Dina and Ellie knew each other longer; Dina quickly glanced at Ivy, “can I steal Ellie?” Dina brightly requested, yet, it wasn’t as if Ivy couldn’t say no, because Ellie would always be ready to follow Dina’s trails.

“Of course,” Ivy falsely smiled, and without indecision, Ellie and Dina walked away from the new citizen, left her alone to wait for her two siblings.

“Trust me this whole thing will go down badly,” Rowan paraded himself towards the oldest Rosalind sibling who crossed her arms, not bugged to respond. “I called out that trio’s bullshit time ago and suddenly I’m the villain.”

Ivy looked up at Rowan’s figure, her arms crossed, silently prompted for Rowan to continue, if she were to continue being in that friendship group, she would want to know further about what she would get herself into. “Both Dina and Ellie don’t know what they want, so they all play with each other’s feelings, well not necessarily play, Dina doesn’t know what she wants, or she does and wants both of them whenever she wants to. One moment she’s dating Jesse the next moment she’s kissing Ellie.”

Ivy cocked the both of her eyebrows, an envious gripe in her chest she couldn’t ignore, in spite of her jealousy, Robin’s and Venus’ figure slowly began to come into view, relieved, Ivy uncrossed her arms and gestured towards her siblings, “I’ve got to go now,” she murmured as she reached out for Venus’ hand to grasp; Rowan nodded his head, implicit and inferential to Ivy’s dismissive stance to what he has told her.

“Bye,” Ivy lightly commented, she didn’t pause to hear Rowan’s bid and already jaunted down to their route of their home area with her siblings; voices in her ear, questioning about the current man Ivy was just speaking to.

27TH OF DECEMBER 2011

Her coat’s hood covered her head as she waited for her partner, with both of their suitcases around her, Isabella was tense and disturbed about the terms of events that occurred currently. She thought any moment now a family member of hers would appear and drag her back home and it was the reverse and antithetical to what she wanted.

“Alexander,” Isabella breathed, eased when she saw her twenty-three-year old’s boyfriend’s shape come into her sight. He held the two tickets to Miami with an expression on his face that spoke of encouragement. He passed Isabella’s tickets towards her along with her passport.

Her permit was new, both Isabella and Alexander prepared and outlined their getaway a couple of months ago, it was the fifteen-year-old’s idea when she had enough of her insolent and abusive family’s behaviour and pleaded Alexander to take her somewhere else.

Though the older man did tell her, to do so she’d had to change her entire identity so that it would be harder for anyone to trail her, even though Isabella did come from a well-off family, Alexander mentioned he would pay for everything for the identity change.

 To the girl that was once Rose Silva was now Lilith Black.

Conducive to this escape, Lilith anticipated and recognised Alexander Black as her saviour, ignorant and unsophisticated to his shred and calculative ways and naïve to what the future held for her.

liking, commenting and reblogging would be appreciated! you can ask questions in the comments or in my ask box!

[space-blue]

Hello:)

I keep having debates with friends about Sevika’s intentions when telling Silco to let jinx come to him after Sevika was just tied from the ceiling BY jinx. On one hand, some think it was a genuine display of empathy.. and on the other, some say it was manipulation to keep jinx away (let her get worse mentally and not interfere, etc..).

So I was wondering what your thoughts are on Sevika’s “I didn’t always see eye to eye with my old man” quote?

When she was advising Silco, She seemed like she genuinely wanted to help a bit. The “she’ll come to you when she’s ready” advice fits more to Sevika’s personality than jinx’s. It makes me wonder if maybe that’s not the first time she’s advised Silco about Jinx.

Noooo, Anon, not the true trick question!!

I honestly don't know. My first few viewings, I took her at face value. She seems so honest. She seems to feel vulnerable emotions as she recalls her father (who I like to imagine as a meek, bespectacled, jersey wearing horticulturist or chemtech. A man who bewitched a strong woman who then died, and left him to raise a firebrand daughter. I like to think she often lost her temper with him because of his peaceful, non-confrontational ways. That she blew up in his face and left for days on end, but he was always right there when she was ready to return to him).

But then someone introduced the idea that she's hoping Jinx blows up to me and fuck it makes too much sense.

Jinx just fucked her up nice and good. Sevika openly voiced the desire for Jinx to blow up and Silco to discard her as a result.

It just makes sense that she'd do anything to make this happen.

BUT. And I'm going into headcanons here... We also don't know what went down between Silco and Sevika as he took her down.

Did he mention the gem? Did he make Sevika understand how important her role is right now, and how vital it is to prevent her sister's interference?

Because if he did, we can then clear the air. Sevika could huff and puff and bury the hatchet, because weaponizing the gem could fast forward them to the Free Zaun she CLEARLY believes in.

However, from a writer's perspective, the scene of Silco freeing her could also be used for a building inner monologue that sets her completely against Jinx and prepares Sevika to lie.

Also... We never see her lie much. If at all?? But I guess she wasn't lying to Silco either. Maybe that's why her emotion is genuine. She may be sharing this honest advice, fully knowing it'll contribute to Jinx blowing up.

We just don't know, because we also don't know what past problems with Jinx have looked like. Does Sevika think Silco is overbearing? Is he? Would seeking Jinx out have changed much?

Because she does come and find him a little later, and while she's very aggressive, Silco seems to be able to talk her down from her rage.

I think the only difference is if Silco could catch her before she blew the flare, and that's before he finds Sevika so... Too late.

Mmmh. Thinking through this, it seems that Sevika's delay of him is of little importance. Sure he could heal her wound better, and maybe ease her from her splintering crisis, but would she not still finish her bombs? When she goes to the bridge, it's her doing Silco's bidding of taking care of the blockade, isn't it?

The only other thing she does is recall Cait's name.

So maybe the show isn't intending us to read that much into Sevika's words.

Also, if she fully means it, it makes her an even more devoted and loyal follower, capable of overcoming her personal wants and dislikes to help her boss/leader.

So I guess in the end it's largely up to the sort of interpretation you want to have for Sevika as a character.

[darcyfangirlsfrequently]

When Paths Cross

A completely indulgent, self-inset-turned-oc fanfiction, with Garvez and platonic!Luke/OC

Captain Olivia Viney was an absolute mess. There had been several missing girls in her jurisdiction, all of their bodies being discovered exactly a week after they were taken. Another girl had been taken the day before, and she refused to let another family lose their daughter. With no new apparent leads and the risk of this case running cold while the criminal was still at large, she decided to call in the big guns.

The BAU had a fantastic record, and she had a very close friend on the team, which definitely increased her amount of trust in them. When they finally entered the building (it felt like it had been hours, but it had really only been thirty minutes,) her first smile in weeks lit up her face at the sight of her old friend.

“There’s no way that that’s Luke Alberto Alvez standing in my police precinct, is there?”

He turned, an equally large smile on his face, and wrapped her in a tight hug. “Olivia! I forgot this was where you worked.”

“Really? You forgot I was the Captain of a police precinct? You only ask me about it every week at dinner.”

“No, I mean I forgot that this was your precinct.”

“Care to introduce us?” Emily Prentiss asked.

“Right, my bad,” Luke said. “Everyone, this is Captain Olivia Viney, she’s an old friend of mine.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m the primary on this case, and I am so grateful you guys agreed to help, we really need it.”

“Of course, I’m Emily Prentiss, the Unit Chief, we spoke on the phone,” Emily said, shaking her hand. “And these are SSAs Rossi, Lewis, Jareau, Reid, and Simmons.”

“It’s nice to meet you all. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Wish we could say the same,” Rossi said. “How did the two of you meet?”

“Oh, we’ve known each other for decades,” Luke said. “We met at Basic Training.”

“Yeah, and then I quit, and he went on to do… well I don’t have to explain his resume to you.”

“What made you decide to quit?” Reid asked her.

“Well, the military didn’t want lesbians, and I didn’t want to risk my life for a country who wouldn’t let me be myself. So, I decided to become a cop instead, defending the people, not the country, because this country and its laws have never been kind to me, but the people,” she looked at Luke as she said that. “The people were. This one,” she playfully shoved Luke’s shoulder, “he was one of the first people I came out to, after my family. He helped me find my way and supported me the whole time, even when he was off in Iraq or chasing down fugitives. He even took a break and came to my wedding when my wife and I got married.”

“That’s really amazing,” Tara said, looking at Luke with a sense of appraisal. She had been that guy’s friend for a long time, and she knew he was a great person, but this solidified that even more.

“And it looks like that turned out well for you anyway,” JJ told Olivia. “Police Captain is no small feat.”

“And not only that, you’re the first openly gay female Police Captain in all of Virginia,” Reid added.

“Indeed I am. But anyway, enough with me, let’s get to work.”

“Yes, of course,” Emily said. “Luke and I want to go check out the latest crime scene while the rest of the team gets set up here, can you take us?”

“Sure thing, let me get my keys.”

Once in the car, Olivia asked Luke, “So, how’s the girl?” 

Emily assumed she was talking about Roxy, of course she would, but she was actually talking about one Ms. Penelope Garcia.

“She’s great, as usual.”

“I bet she misses you when you’re away on cases.”

“Yeah, the feeling’s mutual.”

“And it’s nothing new, either.”

“No, it’s nothing new at all.”

***

A week later, the case had been solved, the girl saved, and the unsub apprehended. All in all, this was to be counted as a win in the books.

As the team was getting ready to leave, Luke gave his friend one last hug. “See you.”

“See you.” She pulled back from the hug and then said, “Oh, and give my love to Penelope, will you? You, her, me and Kelly all need to go out to dinner again soon.”

“Yeah, will do,” Luke said. He turned towards his team, but at their shocked expressions, he quickly turned back to Olivia, wincing. “Shit.”

“What?” She took in the faces behind him, varying degrees of shock and excitement. “ Oh , they didn’t know, did they?”

Lips pressed in a tight line, Luke shook his head ‘no.’

Olivia’s eyes went wide and she gave him an enthusiastic, encouraging pat on the back. “Well! Sorry about that! Have fun with that conversation!” She then promptly turned and speed-walked back into her precinct. 

Tara sidled up to Luke and threw her arm around his shoulder. “So anything you want to um… tell us?”

He kept looking straight ahead. “Nope.”

“Come on!” JJ protested. “We pretty much already know already, now!”

“Exactly, and I need to get home and tell her about all of this and see if I’m in so much trouble there’s no longer anything to tell.”

“Smart man,” Matt said with a chuckle.

“Wait, get home?” Rossi asked. “Are you two living together?”

“No.” He paused. “Well, not officially. She stays at my place while we’re away on cases to take care of Roxy, and then we spend a lot of time together when we’re not on cases. But, like I said, I don’t want to talk about it, so if we could please just drop the subject, that’d be great.”

Half an hour later, Luke walked into his apartment and was greeted by Sergio, Roxy, and his favorite woman in the world. “Hello,” she said, pressing her lips into his.

“Hello,” he replied with a smile. No matter how bad a case might have been, he could always count on her to make him smile.

“How was the case?”

“Awful. I mean, all those kids…”

“Yeah, I definitely don’t miss that.”

“Oh, but guess who the primary was?”

“Who?”

“Captain of Police, Mrs. Olivia Viney.”

Penelope jumped in excitement. “No way! That’s so awesome! Well, not awesome because Olivia had to deal with all that ickiness, but awesome because you got to work with her and she’s awesome! Did the team like her? Of course they liked her, she’s Olivia, and she’s—”

“I know, I know,” Luke interrupted, laughing. “She’s awesome. Careful, or I might think you have feelings for her, instead of me. Remember, she’s very happily married.”

Penelope rolled her eyes. “Ha ha, very funny. So how was working with her?”

“It was nice. It definitely helped her having an old friend around, for both of us. And she was asking me about ‘my girl’ all week. She was talking about you, but I think the team thought she was talking about Roxy.”

“Oh that’s too funny.”

“Yeah… until the end, when we were leaving, and she told me to send you her love and that she, us, and Kelly all need to get together again sometime soon.”

Penelope’s expression quickly changed. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“So the team knows now?”

“Well, I mean, not officially, I didn’t say ‘yeah, we’re dating,’ but… yeah. They know.”

“Why didn’t you tell them?”

“Well I needed to tell you about this and make sure I wasn’t in so much trouble there was no longer anything to tell.”

“Come on, you really think I’d break up with you because our friends found out we’re dating?”

“Well I didn’t know if you were ready yet, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable with this, Chica.”

She stroked his hair and let her hand rest on the back of his neck. “Well I am. Very comfortable. And I was actually going to bring up telling the team when you got home anyway.”

Luke took her hand and led her to sit beside him on the couch, where they had all their serious conversations. “You were?”

“Yes. As I am sure you are aware, tomorrow is your birthday.”

“No, really? I had no idea,” he replied with a shit-eating grin.

“Shut up. Anyway, since tomorrow is your birthday, I wanted to make a birthday post for you as your girlfriend. You know, how normal couples do.”

Luke put a hand on her cheek and kissed her gently. “I love you so much. You’re incredible, you know that? And I would love for you to do that.”

***

The next morning, Luke awoke to many, many Facebook birthday wishes. That happened when you had contacts and friends all over the world. The only notification he cared about, however, was the one that read “Penelope Garcia mentioned you in a post.”

He clicked on that notification and was greeted by one of his favorite pictures of the two of them together. They were side by side in the selfie, engaged in a soft, tender kiss. He remembered how it had come to be: they had been taking stupid selfies, and she had turned to him and smiled with that smile that made him forget his damn name, and all he could do was kiss her. 

The caption under the image read, “The happiest of happy birthdays to the love of my life, my amazingly sweet boyfriend, Luke Alvez . I hope this is an amazing year, my love!”

He re-read that sentence again. The love of her life? Did he really mean as much to her as she meant to him? 

Just then, the bedroom door opened and Penelope walked in, carrying a breakfast tray. “Fancy breakfast in bed, Birthday Boy?”

“I’m the love of your life?”

She put the breakfast tray on his night table. “Yes. You know I love you, I tell you every day, but I love you more than I have ever loved any one or any thing. You are the love of my life. Is that okay?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, is the love of my life telling me I’m the love of her life okay? Yes, it’s very okay. Get over here.” He took her hand and pulled him on top of her so she was straddling his lap and kissed her deeply. “I love you more than anyone or anything too, Penelope.”

This time it was her who kissed him, and they stayed in that position for a while, letting the breakfast and coffee she had made him go cold. Oh, well. They would go out for breakfast.

Eventually, he pulled away from the kiss. “So, does this mean that if I asked you to move in with me, you’d say yes?”

[pvrpuras]

preparing for the end. // for @seraphic-teardrops

akane had smiled when she was introduced to the crown princess‘ handmaiden. even though she had spent quite some time at the royal palace, she had never known much about the people who worked there— nor had she cared to know more. she had simply been a guest, only meant to pay a few visits every now and then. never had she particularly enjoyed being inside of the palace walls: there was always a hint of danger lingering in the air. there was always someone who could possibly watch her and catch her in the act of doing or saying something she wasn’t supposed to. now that she had had the pleasure — or in her eyes, the displeasure — of living in the royal palace, her hatred for the place had grown immensely. and with that, there was a certain hatred towards everyone involved with the crown.

she had smiled when she met hyunhee but she hadn’t said a single word. akane was too afraid that the truth would come spilling out as soon as she parted her lips, so she decided to remain silent in an attempt to have some sort of peace of mind. it was futile, really. never in a million years would she be able to remain peaceful inside these haunted walls. never in a million years would she be able to sleep soundly at night. every single day spent in hari bulkan was a day filled with fear and anxiety and hopelessness. people could smile at her all they wanted; none of them would ever gain her trust.

for some reason, she felt somewhat different when it came to hyunhee. it might have been the fact that she had never seen her face before; someone unfamiliar was somehow less jarring than a face she knew. (simply because it seemed like everyone she knew was somehow against her.) she had been greeted with a polite smile, nothing too exaggerated. no congratulations, either. a couple of servants had openly expressed their well wishe for the fire lord‘s bride-to-be. some of them had even expressed their envy for her, claiming they would be overjoyed if they were in her place instead. fools, she had thought back then. if i had only been given the choice, i would have chosen to remain an orphan.

“ thank you, ” she finally decided to speak once they arrived in the chambers. “ for treating me with respect. ” nowadays, it wasn’t guaranteed. it was her own fault, she knew that. maybe her life in the palace would have been slightly more bearable had she not disrespected the fire lord. but then again, she would have been living a lie. “ may i ask your name? ” her weary features were graced with a hesitant smile. “ my name is akane. i beg of you, please refer to me only by name. no title— whether it may be lady or general. ” akane didn’t need anyone to treat her like royalty. all she needed was a person she could talk to at eye level. all she needed was a friend.

[rjalker]

anyways here's what the second half of Artificial Condition would have been if Martha Wells didn't decide to shove Rami, the first and only nonbinary human in this series, immediately off-screen.

You can literally just start re-reading Artificial Condition and then at the end of chapter six just start reading this.

I Ctrl+F switched Tapan with Rami and vice versa, and had to manually change Rami's pronouns. So let me know if I missed any. I only got like three hours of sleep last night so I might have missed some. if you see any spots I forgot to change, them, you can reply, reblog, @ me, whatever, idk I'm sleepy.

I also changed the italicized feed chat to having ::Quotation marks like this:: so it's more clear that it's dialogue rather than narration.

Aside from that, all of this is just transcribed straight from the book as exactly as possible.

Do not read this if you haven't read book 2 of The Murderbot Diaries, lol, it's literally the ending chapters of the book.

now that the hard part is done I'll make a post that's literally just a compilation of the scenes Rami actually gets in the actual book.

anyways.

here's what Artificial Condition would have looked like if Martha Wells didn't decide to be a coward. And yes. I am saying it. Introducing Rami who uses neopronouns and is the only nonbinary human in this series and then immediately shoving ter off screen is the coward's way out. She didn't even pick difficult neopronouns to get a grasp on. There's no excuse.

Give her credit when credit is due, and no sooner.

Below the cut it's 8.8k words.

Archived read-more

(seriously stop reading this if you haven't read this book yet. We are skipping all the way to chapter seven. Go read the book and come back) 

 Chapter Seven

I located the problem in the lobby of the main hotel.

  Rami was on one of the upper platforms, seated on a round cushioned bench, ter pack at ter feet, partially screened by another holographic sculpture of a giant crystal formation. Te looked up at me and said, “Oh, hi. I didn’t know if the others would be able to reach you.”

  Without me present in the shuttle, ART hadn’t had any visual access to the passenger compartment. (As a private vehicle that was only being used as a public transport in a sketchy if not openly illegal way, it had no onboard security system or cameras.) ART hadn’t known Rami wasn’t onboard until the shuttle reached the transit ring. Taking its responsibility seriously, it had sent a drone over to the embarkation area to watch my clients disembark and had seen an obviously distraught and angry Tapan and Maro, but no Rami. Then it had checked Eden’s profile on the social media feed and found the message from Tapan. (Rami had told them te was sick and was going to the shuttle’s restroom compartment. They hadn’t realized what had happened until the shuttle had cleared the port.)

  I said, “They left me a message.” I had intended to just stand there and stare at ter, which is what SecUnits do to clients who have just performed an act of stupidity so profound it approaches suicide which they ordered us not to stop them from doing. But te looked like te knew te had been stupid, and I had to know. “What happened?”

 Te looked up at me, clearly anticipating a negative reaction. “I got a note in my feed, through the social profile I had when we were working here. Someone working for Tlacey—a friend—said he had copies of the files and he’d give them to us.” Te forwarded the message to my feed.

  I checked it carefully. The meeting time was set for the next cycle.

  I felt this would be the point where a human would sigh, so I sighed.

  Rami said, “I know it could be a trap, but, maybe it isn’t? I know him, he’s not the greatest guy, but he hates Tlacey.” Te hesitated. “Will you help me? Please? I’ll understand if you say no. I know I’ve been … I know this could be a really bad idea.”

  I had forgotten that I had a choice, that I wasn’t obligated to do what te wanted just because te was here. Being asked to stay, with a please and an option for refusal, hit me almost as hard as a human asking for my opinion and actually listening to me. I sighed again. I was having a lot of opportunities to do it and I think I was getting good at it. “I’ll help you. Right now we need to find a place to get out of sight.”

  * * *

  Rami had a hard currency card from the transit ring, which wasn’t tied to any RaviHyral account and so was not traceable. At least, that’s what te thought and I hoped te was right. I had never been given any education modules on financial systems and since our modules were crap anyway, I’m not sure that would have helped. ART ran a search for me and the results were mixed. Hard currency cards could be traced, but usually only by non-corporate political or corporate entities. I decided it was probably all right to use it. If the message wasn’t a trap, Tlacey must think my clients were back on the transit ring by now. If it was a trap, they would know they could grab us when we walked into the meeting so there was no point in looking for us earlier.

  Rami used the card to pay for a transient room in the block next to the port. While te ran the card through the vending kiosk and got our room assignment, I stood behind ter and surveyed the area. The transient rooms were in a narrow warren of corridors, as unlike the main hotel as a real cargo transport was unlike ART. There was no SecSystem to get control of and only one camera at the entrance. I deleted us out of its memory, but I still felt like we—or I—might have been observed at some point. It might just be inherent rogue-SecUnit-on-the-run paranoia.

  Rami led the way to our room. There were other humans hanging around the dimly lit corridors and some looked like they might try to approach ter, then saw me and changed their minds. I was bigger than they were, and without cameras it was still hard to control my expression.

  ART said, ::Tell the human not to touch any surfaces. There may be disease vectors present.::

  On the way here I had shared the recording of what I had found at Ganaka Pit. ART said, ::This is good news. You were not at fault.:: I agreed, sort of. I had been expecting to feel better about it. I mostly just felt awful.

  Once inside the room with the door secured, I saw Rami’s shoulders relax and te took a deep breath. The room was just a square box with pads stored in a cabinet for sitting or sleeping, and a small display surface. No cameras, no audio surveillance. There was a tiny attached bath, with a waste-reclaimer and a shower. At least it had a door. I was going to have to pretend to use it at least twice. Yes, that would be the cap on all the fun I was having today. I created a schedule and set an alarm to remind myself to do it.

  Rami dropped ter bag on the floor and faced me. “I know you’re mad.”

  I tried to moderate my expression. “I’m not mad.” I was furious. I thought my clients were safe, I was free to worry about my own problems, and now I had a tiny human to look after that I couldn’t possibly abandon.

  Te nodded and pushed ter braids back. “I know—I mean—I’m sure Tapan and Maro were furious. But it’s not like I’m not afraid, so that’s good.”

  In my feed, ART said, ::What?::

::I have no idea,:: I told it. I said to Rami, “How is that good?”

  Te explained, “In the creche, our moms always said that fear was an artificial condition. It’s imposed from the outside. So it’s possible to fight it. You should do the things you’re afraid of.”

  If a bot with a brain the size of a transport could roll its eyes, that was what ART was doing. I said, “That isn’t the purpose of fear.” They didn’t give us an education module on human evolution, but I had looked it up in the HubSystem knowledge bases I’d had access to, in an effort to figure out what the hell was going on with humans. It hadn’t helped.

  Te said, “I know, it’s supposed to be inspirational.” Te looked around and went to the cabinet with the seating pads. Te pulled them out, sniffed them suspiciously, then took an aerosol capsule out of a pocket on ter pack and sprayed them down. “I forgot to ask, did you get a chance to do the research you wanted to do here?”

  “Yes. It was … inconclusive.” It had been damningly conclusive, it just hadn’t had the revelatory effect I had been, stupidly, hoping for. I helped her pull the rest of the pads out.

  We got them arranged on the floor and sat down. Te looked at me and bit ter lip. “You’re really augmented, aren’t you. Like, a lot. Like more than someone would choose voluntarily.”

  It wasn’t a question. I said, “Um, yes.”

  Te nodded. “Was it an accident?”

  I realized I had my arms wrapped around myself and was leaning over like I was trying to go into a fetal position. I don’t know why this was so stressful. Rami wasn’t afraid of me. I had no reason to be afraid of ter. Maybe it was being here again, seeing Ganaka Pit again. Some part of my organic systems remembered what had happened there. In the feed, ART started to play the soundtrack to Sanctuary Moon and weirdly, that helped. I said, “I got caught in an explosion. There’s not much of me that’s human, actually.”

  Both those statements are true.

  Te stirred a little, as if debating what to say, then nodded again. “I’m sorry I got you into this. I know you know what you’re doing, but … I have to try, I have to see if this guy really has our files. Just this once, and then I’ll go back to the transit ring.”

  In my feed, ART turned down the soundtrack to say, ::Young humans can be impulsive. The trick is keeping them around long enough to become old humans. This is what my crew tells me and my own observations seem to confirm it.::

  I couldn’t argue with the wisdom dispensed by ART’s absent crew. I remembered humans had needs and asked Rami, “Did you eat?”

  Te had bought some meal packs with the hard currency card and had them stuffed in her bag. Te offered me one and I told her my augments required me to have a special diet and it wasn’t time for me to eat yet. Te accepted that readily. Humans apparently don’t like to discuss catastrophic injuries to digestive systems, so I didn’t need any of the corroborating detail ART had just researched for me. I asked ter if te liked media and te said yes, so I sent some files to the display surface in the room, and we watched the first three episodes of Worldhoppers. ART was pleased, and I could feel it sitting in my feed, comparing Rami’s reactions to the show to mine.

  When Rami said te wanted to try to sleep, I shut down the display. Te curled up on ter pad and I lay down on mine and continued watching in the feed with ART.

  Two hours and forty-three minutes later, I caught a ping from right outside the door.

  I sat up so abruptly, Rami woke with a start. I motioned for ter to be quiet, and te subsided back on the pad, curling around ter pack, looking worried. I stood and went to the door, listening. I couldn’t hear any breathing, but there was a change in the background noise that told me there was something solid on the other side of the metal door. Cautiously, I did a limited scan.

  Yes, there was something out there, but no sign of weapons. I checked the ping and saw it had the same signature as the ping I had caught in the public area during the meeting with Tlacey.

  The sexbot was standing on the other side of the door.

  It couldn’t have been following me all this time. It could have been watching for me on the security cameras, tracking me sporadically through the port when I came back within range. That was not a comforting thought.

  It had to belong to Tlacey. If it had been watching me, it would have missed Rami’s unexpected exit from the private shuttle but would have seen ter again when we met up at the main hotel or on the way here. Damn it.

  But now I knew that. If it hadn’t pinged me, I wouldn’t have realized it was in play. ::Why is it here?:: I asked ART.

::I assume that’s a rhetorical question,:: it said.

  There was only one way to find out. I acknowledged the ping.

  The moment stretched. Then it reached out to my feed. It was cautious, the connection almost tentative. It said, ::I know what you are. Who sent you?::

  I replied, ::I’m on contract to a private individual. Why are you communicating with me?::

  SecUnits on the same contract don’t talk, either verbally or on the feed, unless they absolutely have to in order to perform their duties. Communicating with units on different contracts has to be done through the controlling HubSystems. And SecUnits don’t interact with ComfortUnits anyway. Could this be a rogue sexbot? If it was rogue, why was it here on RaviHyral? I didn’t know why anybody would stay here voluntarily, including the humans. No, it made more sense if Tlacey owned its contract, and had sent it here to kill Rami.

  If it tried to attack my client, I would tear it apart.

  Rami, sitting on the pad and watching me worriedly, mouthed the words, “What is it?”

  I opened a secure channel to ter and said, ::Someone is outside the door. I’m not sure why.::

  That was mostly true. I didn’t want to tell Rami what it was, since that seemed to lead directly to me telling ter what I was, which I didn’t want to do. Though if I had to destroy it in front of ter, I was going to have a lot of explaining to do.

  The sexbot replied, ::This is you,:: and sent me a copy of a public newsburst.

  It was from the station, from Port FreeCommerce. This time the headline was “Authorities Admit a SecUnit Unsecured and Location Unknown.”

  ::Uh-oh,:: ART said.

  I closed the story by reflex, like that would make it not exist. After three seconds of shock, I made myself open it again.

  “Unsecured” is what they call rogue SecUnits when they want humans to listen and not just start screaming. It meant that the knowledge that I had hacked my governor module was no longer confined to me and the members of PreservationAux. They must have been at the stage where everyone in the two survey groups who had survived was being interviewed, and they would have had to guarantee bonds to assert they were telling the truth.

So the company knew now that I had hacked my governor module. That was terrifying, even though I had expected it. It was one of the reasons Mensah had made sure to get me off inventory and out of the deployment center as soon as I came out of repair and reconstruction mode.

  Expecting it and having it happen were two different things, something I learned the first time I got shot to pieces.

  I skimmed the story in dread and then read it again, closely. The solicitors for several sides in the ongoing legal and civil battles had asked Preservation to produce the SecUnit who had recorded all the damning evidence against GrayCris. This was unusual. It’s not like SecUnits can testify in courts. Our recordings are admissible, just like recordings from a drone or security camera or any other inert device, but it’s not like we’re supposed to have opinions or a perspective on what we record.

  After some back and forth, Mensah’s solicitor had admitted that she had lost track of me. They phrased it as “released on my own recognizance, as constructs are considered legal sentients under Preservation law,” but the journalists hadn’t been fooled by that, either. There were a lot of sidebar links to attached articles about constructs, about SecUnits, about rogue SecUnits. There was no mention that this particular unit had had a little problem with murdering the clients supposedly under its protection before, but I had the feeling the company had probably already destroyed any records relating to Ganaka Pit so they couldn’t be produced under court injunction.

  Rami whispered, “Are you talking to them, the person?”

  “Yes,” I told ter. To the sexbot, I said, ::That’s an interesting story but it has nothing to do with me.::

  It said, ::It’s you. Who sent you?::

  I said, ::That’s a story about a dangerous rogue SecUnit. No one would send it anywhere.::

::I’m not asking because I want to report you. I won’t tell anyone. I’m asking—There’s no human controlling you? You’re free?::

  I could feel ART in my feed, carefully extending itself out toward the sexbot.

::I have a client,:: I told it. I had to distract it, if ART was going to be able to get any info. Even though it was a sexbot, it was still a construct, still a whole different proposition from a pilot bot. ::Who sent you here? Was it Tlacey?::

::Yes. She is my client.::

  As a ComfortUnit, not a SecUnit. Sending a ComfortUnit into this situation was morally irresponsible and a clear violation of contract. I’m guessing the sexbot knew that.

ART said, ::It’s not rogue. Its governor module is engaged. So it’s probably telling the truth.::

  I asked ART, ::Can you hack it from here?::

  There was a half-second pause while ART explored the idea. ART answered, ::No, I can’t secure the connection here. It could stop me by cutting off its feed.: 

  I told the sexbot, ::Your client wants to kill my client.::

  It didn’t reply.

  I said, ::You told Tlacey about me.:: It must have recognized what I was during that first meeting. If it hadn’t been sure, seeing the damage I had done to the three humans Tlacey had sent would have been all the confirmation it needed. I was seething, but I kept it out of the feed. As I told ART, bots and constructs can’t trust each other, so I don’t know why it made me angry. I wish being a construct made me less irrational than the average human but you may have noticed this is not the case. I said, ::Your client sent a ComfortUnit to do a SecUnit’s job.::

  It countered, ::She didn’t know she needed a SecUnit until today.:: It added, ::I told her you were a SecUnit, I didn’t tell her you were a rogue.::

  I wondered if I could believe that. And I wondered if it had tried to explain to Tlacey the impossibility of this assignment. ::What do you propose to do?::

  There was a pause. A long one, five seconds. ::We could kill them.::

  Well, that was an unusual approach to its dilemma. ::Kill who? Tlacey?::

::All of them. The humans here.::

  I leaned against the wall. If I had been human, I would have rolled my eyes. Though if I had been human, I might have been stupid enough to think it was a good idea.

  I also wondered if it knew a lot more about me than what little was in the newsburst.

  Picking up on my reaction, ART said, ::What does it want?::

::To kill all the humans,:: I answered.

  I could feel ART metaphorically clutch its function. If there were no humans, there would be no crew to protect and no reason to do research and fill its databases. It said, ::That is irrational.::

::I know,:: I said, if the humans were dead, who would make the media? It was so outrageous, it sounded like something a human would say.

Huh.

I said to the sexbot, ::Is that how Tlacey thinks constructs talk to each other?::

There was another pause, only two seconds this time. ::Yes.:: Then, ::Tlacey believes you stayed behind to steal the files for the tech group. What did you do for so long in the feed blackout area?::

::I was hiding.:: I know, not my best lie. ::Does Tlacey know you want to kill her?:: Because the “kill all humans” thing might have come from Tlacey, but the intensity under it was real, and I didn’t think it was directed at all humans.

::She knows,:: it said. Then, ::I didn’t tell her about your client, she thinks they all left on the shuttle. She only wanted me to follow you.::

  A code bundle came through the feed. You can’t infect a construct with malware like that, not without sending it through a Sec or HubSystem. Even then I would have to apply it, and without direct orders and a working governor module, there’s no way to force me to do it. The only way that code can be applied without my assistance is through a combat override module via my dataport.

  It might be killware, but I was not a simple pilot bot, and it would mostly just annoy the hell out of me. Maybe to the point where I tore a door off the wall and ripped the head off a ComfortUnit.

  I could just delete the bundle, but I wanted to know what it was so I knew how furious to get. It was small enough for a human’s interface to handle, so I shunted it aside to Rami. I said aloud, “I need you to isolate that for me. Don’t open it yet.”

 Te signaled assent through the feed and pulled the bundle into ter temp storage. The other thing about killware and malware is that they can’t do anything to humans or augmented humans.

  The sexbot hadn’t said anything else and I sent a ping in time to feel it withdraw its feed. It was walking away down the corridor.

  I waited until I was sure, then stepped back from the door. I debated staying here, or moving Rami. Now that I knew something was hacking the security cameras to watch me, I could use countermeasures. I probably should have been doing that from the beginning, but you may have noticed that for a terrifying murderbot I fuck up a lot.

  “It’s gone,” I told Rami. “Can you check out that code bundle for me?”

 Te got that inward look that humans have when they’re deep in their feed. After a minute, te said, “It’s malware. Pretty standard … Maybe they thought it would get your augments, but that’s kind of amateurish for Tlacey. Hold it. There’s a message string in here, attached to the code.”

  ART and I waited. Rami’s face did something complicated, settling on worry. “This is weird.” Te turned to the display surface and made the completely unnecessary gesture that some humans can’t help doing when they send something from their feed to display.

  It was the message string, three words. ::Please help me.::

  * * *

  I moved us to a different room, near an emergency exit, in another section of the hostel. The sexbot might be alert for hacking, so I removed the access plate, manually broke the lock, and replaced the plate again while Rami watched the corridor. Once we were inside, I told Rami some of what the sexbot had said, mostly the part about how it claimed Tlacey didn’t know Rami was here. (I didn’t tell ter our visitor had been a sexbot because Tlacey had figured out what I was and didn’t want to waste any more human bodyguards on me.) “But we don’t know that that’s true, or that this operative won’t tell Tlacey you’re here now.”

  Rami looked confused. “But why did they tell you anything?”

  That was a good question. “I don’t know. They don’t like Tlacey, but that might not be the only reason.”

  Rami bit ter lip, considering. “I think I should still try to keep the meeting. It’s only four hours from now.”

  I’m used to humans wanting to do things that can get them killed. Maybe too used to it. I knew we should leave now. But I needed time to hack enough of the security system to get past the sexbot. Once I did that, it seemed wrong not to wait the short time to make the meeting, which Rami was reasonably sure Tlacey didn’t know about. Reasonably sure.

  It was probably a trap.

  I needed to think. I told Rami I was going to sleep for a while and laid down on my side on my section of padding. My recharge cycle isn’t obvious but it doesn’t look like a human sleeping, so what I was actually going to do was play some media in the background of my feed while I worked on my security countermeasures and looked up my old module on risk assessment.

Thirty-two minutes later, I heard movement. I thought Rami was getting up to go to the restroom facility, but then te settled on the pads behind me, not quite touching my back. I had set my breathing to sound deep and even, like a human sleeping, with occasional random variations to add verisimilitude, so the fact that I had frozen in place wasn’t obvious.

  I had never had a human touch me, or almost touch me, like this before and it was deeply, deeply weird.

::Calm down,:: ART said, not helpfully.

  I was too frozen to respond. After three seconds, ART added, ::Te’s frightened. You are a reassuring presence.::

  I was still too frozen to answer ART, but I upped my body heat. Over the next two hours, te yawned twice, breathed deeply, and snorted occasionally. At the end of that time I changed my breathing and moved a little, and te immediately slid off my pad and over to ters.

  By that time, I had a plan, sort of.

  * * *

  I convinced Rami that I should go to the meeting, and te should get on a public shuttle to the transit ring immediately. Te was reluctant. “I don’t want to abandon you,” te said. “You’re only involved in this because of us.”

  That hit home so hard my insides clenched. I had to lean over and pretend to look through my bag to hide my expression. Company emergency protocol allows clients to abandon their SecUnits if necessary, even in situations where the company might never be able to retrieve them. Rami was making me think of Mensah, yelling that she wouldn’t leave me. I said, “It’ll help me the most if you go back to the transit ring.”

  It took a while, but I finally convinced ter this was for the best for both of us.

  Rami left the hostel first, wearing both extra jackets from ter pack to change ter body shape and with the hood of one pulled up to conceal ter hair and shadow ter face. (This was mostly to make ter feel more confident, and because I didn’t want to explain the extent to which I could gain temporary control over portions of RaviHyral’s admittedly not-great security system.) I watched ter on the security cameras until I saw ter reach the public dock about one hundred meters away, go down the walkway to the embarkation area, then board the shuttle that was scheduled to leave in twenty-one minutes. ART sent me an acknowledgment as it slid into the shuttle’s controls to guard the bot pilot again. Then I left the hostel.

  I’d prepared a hack for the security cameras that was much more sophisticated than the one I’d been using up to this point. It involved getting into the operational code and setting the system on a tenth of a second delay, then deleting Rami out and randomly replacing that part of the recording with pieces cut from earlier. This would work because the sexbot would be scanning the recordings the same way I would, using a body configuration scan. I didn’t match SecUnit standard anymore, but the sexbot had had plenty of time to scan my new configuration during that first meeting with Tlacey.

  Right now I wanted the sexbot’s attention on me, and not the public dock. I let the cameras track me out of the port and back toward the tube access. Then I started the hack.

  I was only 97 percent certain this meeting was a trap.

  Chapter Eight

  When I reached the small food service counter in the contractor district, a human was there who matched the image Rami had sent to my feed. As I sat down at the table he looked up at me, his expression nervous, sweat beading on his pale forehead. I said, “Rami couldn’t come,” and sent his feed the brief recording Rami had made with ter interface. It was ter standing next to me in the room at the hostel, holding my arm and explaining that the files could be given to me. Wow, I looked uncomfortable.

  His gaze went inward as he reviewed the recording, then his body relaxed a little. He slid a memory clip over to me. I took it and checked the cameras.

  Nothing. No potential threats, no one showing interest in us. The counter served drinks with a lot of bubbles in them and fried protein in the shape of water fauna and flora. Everyone else was busy eating or talking. There was no one suspicious in the corridor or mall area outside, no one watching, no one waiting.

  This was not a trap.

  The human said uncertainly, “Should we order something? To make it look like we’re not—you know?”

  I told him, “No one’s watching, you can leave,” and pushed to my feet. I had to get back to the port.

  If this wasn’t a trap, the real trap was somewhere else.

  * * *

  On the way back to the dock, I checked the schedule. The shuttle was now listed as delayed.

  As I reached the embarkation area, I was reviewing the security recording from the time Rami had boarded the shuttle. On visual, I spotted the sexbot coming toward me from the far end of the walkway.

  I had gotten to the point in the recording where two humans with Port Authority identification had stopped the shuttle’s departure and removed Rami. ART slid out of the shuttle and back into my feed. It said, ::If I had my armed drones, this would be easier.::

  When the sexbot reached me, I said, “Where is te?”

  “In Tlacey’s private shuttle. I’ll show you.”

  I followed it along the walkway, then down the ramp that split off toward the private shuttle docks. ART said, ::Why is it showing you where your human is?::

  I said, ::Because Tlacey doesn’t want Rami, she wants me.::

  ART was quiet as we went past the private shuttle slots toward the bigger, more expensive section at the end. Then it said, ::Retrieve your human and make Tlacey regret this.::

  We stopped in front of the access to a shuttle hatch. No one was outside, and most of the activity was down toward the other end of the docks. The sexbot turned to face me.

  It opened its hand, and I recognized the small object. It was a combat override module. It said, “They won’t allow you aboard unless you let me install this.”

  In my feed, ART said, ::Ah.::

  They wanted us in the shuttle so that they could dispose of the bodies. Or Rami’s body. Me they obviously intended to keep.

  A combat override module contains code that will take over my system, overriding the governor module and the company factory-set protocols, and placing me under the direct verbal or comm control of whoever the module designates. This was how GrayCris took over DeltFall’s SecUnits, and tried to take over me.

  I said, “If I accept that, will they release my client?”

  In the feed the sexbot whispered, ::You know they won’t.:: Aloud, it said, “Yes.”

  I turned and let it insert the module into my data port. (The data port that ART had disconnected when it altered my configuration. With my governor module hacked, it had been the only way left to assert control over me, so disabling it had been a priority.)

  The module clicked into place and I had a moment of purely irrational fear. ART must have picked up on it because it said, ::Please, my MedSystem makes no mistakes.:: Nothing happened, and from the security camera I had control of, I saw that I managed to keep the relief out of my expression.

  The sexbot’s expression was Unit standard neutral, and I followed it into the shuttle. A human stood just inside the lock, armed, his eyes flicking nervously between me and the sexbot. He said, “Is it under control?”

  “Yes,” the sexbot said.

  He stepped back and his jaw moved as he spoke in his feed. I couldn’t hack anything without the sexbot knowing, so I waited. I kept my expression blank. I had no way of knowing what the combat override module was supposed to make me do, but I was assuming it would put me under Tlacey’s control. I suspected the humans, and the sexbot, weren’t sure what the outward effect would be.

  Once we were through the lock, it cycled shut and a launch warning went through the feed, ending in an audible beep from the comm system. Tlacey must have bribed someone for immediate clearance, because there was a clunk as the lock disengaged and then the shuttle slid out of its slot.

::I have you on my scan,:: ART said.

  The human led the way through the shuttle. It was a large model, and the access corridor went past hatchways to cabins and the engineering section before ending in a big compartment. There was cushioned bench seating against the walls and acceleration chairs to the front, near the hatch that must lead to the forward part of the ship. There were six unknown humans in the room, four armed and two unarmed crew. One of the armed humans held Rami by the shoulder and had a projectile weapon pressed to ter head.

  Tlacey stood up from a chair and looked me over with a smile. She said, “Take little Rami to a cabin. I’ll want to talk to ter later about ter work.”

  Rami’s eyes were wide and frightened. I kept my expression blank. She tried to say, “Eden, I’m sorry! I’m sorry—” but the guard pulled her through another hatchway and down a corridor. I didn’t react, since I wanted ter out of the line of fire. I listened for the hatch to close, then focused on Tlacey.

  She strolled toward me, thoughtful now. I guess the triumphant smile had been for Rami’s benefit. The two other unarmed humans were watching with nervous curiosity, the armed guards still looked cautious. To the sexbot, Tlacey said, “You really think this is one of the units from the Ganaka Pit accident?”

  The sexbot started to reply, and I said, “But we all know that wasn’t an accident, don’t we.”

  Now I had everybody’s attention.

  I kept my gaze straight ahead, a good SecUnit still under the control of the combat override module. Tlacey stared at me, then her eyes narrowed. “Who am I talking to?”

  That was almost funny. “You think I’m a puppet? You know that’s not the way we work.”

  Tlacey was beginning to be afraid. “Who sent you?”

  I lowered my head to meet her gaze. “I came for my client.”

  Tlacey’s jaw moved as she gave a command in the feed, and the sexbot started to shift sideways into a combat position.

  ART said, ::The shuttle is clear of the port and moving into an orbit around the moon. Do you have a moment to let me in?::

  I said, ::Be fast,:: and let ART in. I had the sensation again, my head shoved underwater, being temporarily incapacitated as ART used me as a bridge to reach the bot controlling the shuttle.

  It was quick, but the sexbot had time to punch me in the jaw. Tlacey must have ordered that; it wasn’t the way a unit would attack another unit. It hurt, but only in the way that would piss me off. When I didn’t react immediately, Tlacey relaxed and grinned. “I like a mouthy bot. This is going to be interesting—”

  ART was in the shuttle’s systems and I was clear. I caught the sexbot’s arm and flung it across the room toward the three armed guards. One went down, one stumbled into a chair, the third started to lift his weapon. I knocked Tlacey out of my way and stepped on the sexbot as I went over it, thumping it back down to the deck. I grabbed the muzzle of the energy weapon and shoved it upright just as he fired. The discharge struck the curved ceiling. I ripped it out of his grasp, dislocating his shoulder and at least three fingers, and slammed his head down on the console.

  The guard who had already fallen to the deck had a projectile weapon and I felt two impacts, one to my side and one to my thigh. Now that’s the kind of attack that actually hurts. I extended my right arm and fired my inbuilt energy weapon, catching him with two bolts in the chest. I stepped sideways to avoid an energy weapon blast from the guard who had fallen into the chair, and my third shot hit him in the shoulder. I had the blasts set to narrow, and they created deep burn wounds that usually incapacitated humans rapidly with shock and pain and, you know, having holes burned into their chest cavities.

 I pivoted and threw the captured gun as a distraction. The first unarmed human was on the deck, a smoking wound in her back; the guard who had missed me had shot her. The second flung herself across the compartment to try to grab a fallen projectile weapon, so I shot her in the shoulder and the leg.

  The sexbot rolled to its feet and charged me, I caught it, went down on my back, and flung it off and over my head. I twisted around and up to my knees but couldn’t get all the way up due to the wound in my right thigh. The sexbot shoved upright and I grabbed its leg and popped the knee out of the socket. It went down and I took out its left shoulder joint. Slamming it down to the deck, I turned to see Tlacey reaching for one of the fallen weapons. I said, “Touch that weapon and I’ll take it away from you and insert it into your rib cage.”

  She froze. She was panting from fear, eyes staring. I said, “Tell your sexbot to stop fighting.”

  It was still struggling to get up and it was just going to hurt itself further. Especially if it made me mad again.

  Tlacey straightened slowly, her jaw working, and the sexbot relaxed. I said, ::ART, cut off Tlacey’s feed.::

  ::Done,:: ART said.

  Tlacey winced as her feed went down. I told Tlacey, “Give the sexbot a verbal command to obey me until further notice. Try to give it any other command and I’ll rip your tongue out.”

  Tlacey huffed out a breath, then said, “Unit, obey the crazy rogue SecUnit until further notice.” To me, she said, “You need to get better threats.”

  I put a hand on the nearest chair seat and shoved myself to my feet. “I don’t make threats, I’m just telling you what I’m going to do.”

  Her jaw hardened. Two of the humans in the room had stopped breathing, the unarmed one that the guard had shot while aiming for me and the first one I had shot. Tlacey hadn’t noticed.

  I looked down at the sexbot, which looked up at me. “Stay down,” I said.

  It sent me an acknowledgment. I stepped over it, grabbed Tlacey’s arm, and dragged her down the corridor to the cabin where her guard had taken Rami.

  She said quickly, “So you’re a free agent, right? I can give you a job. Whatever you want—”

  I thought, You don’t have anything I want. I said, “All you had to do was give them the fucking files and none of us would be in this situation.”

  The look she threw back at me was startled, incredulous. I didn’t sound like her idea of a SecUnit, rogue or otherwise, I guess.

  Humans should really do more research. There were operating manuals that would have warned her not to fuck with us.

  Tlacey stopped at a closed hatch, said, “Bassom, it’s me,” and hit the release. The door slid up.

  Rami was half sprawled across the bunk on the far wall, blood spreading across the flower pattern on ter T-shirt, drops of it splashed on the light brown skin of the bare arm pressed against the wound in ter side. Ter raspy breath sounded loud in the small cabin. The bodyguard stared at us, eyes wide.

  “He panicked when he heard the shots,” Tlacey gasped. “You can’t—”

  Oh yeah, I could.

  I swung Tlacey to shield me as the bodyguard brought up his weapon. Multiple shots hit her back but I’d already crushed her windpipe. I took another projectile in the chest as I crossed the cabin, threw him against the wall, jammed my arm up under his chin, and triggered my energy weapon.

  I stepped back and let his body drop.

  I turned away from it and leaned over Rami. I said, stupidly, “It’s me.” Ter eyes were shut and te was breathing through gritted teeth. I clamped my hand over the wound to stop the bleeding and said, ::ART, help.::

  ART said, ::I’ve been guiding the shuttle toward the transit ring, where I can dock it with myself. ETA is seventeen minutes. MedSystem is prepping for your arrival.::

  I sank down beside Rami. Te was just conscious enough to reach over and squeeze my hand. I pulled the useless combat override module out of the back of my neck and tossed it away.

  I had made a huge mistake, which seemed blindingly obvious in hindsight. I had known the invitation to exchange the signing bonus for the files was a trap from the beginning and I should have convinced Rami and the others not to return to RaviHyral. The augmented human security consultant I was pretending to be would have done that. I was used to taking orders from humans and trying to mitigate whatever damage their stupid ideas did to them, but I had wanted to work with a group again, I had enjoyed how they had listened to me, I had put my need to get to RaviHyral above the safety of my clients.

  I was just as shit at being a security consultant as any human.

  Chapter Nine

  By the time we were on approach to the transit ring, ART had cleared us with the ring’s Port Authority. Shuttles weren’t supposed to be able to dock with transports without advance notice, but ART took care of approach permission, and forged its captain’s feed signature to pay the fine for not giving prior notice of the scheduled trip. They didn’t suspect anything; nobody knew transports could have bots sophisticated enough to fake being human in the feed. I sure hadn’t known it.

  The locks weren’t compatible but ART solved that problem by pulling the shuttle into an empty module meant for lab space. It sat us down, filled the module with atmosphere, and then cycled our lock. I got upright and carried Rami out and up the access into the main section. ComfortUnit followed me.

  The MedSystem was ready by the time I walked in and laid Rami down on the platform. Drones whizzed around me and I picked up the MedSystem feed’s instruction to remove ter shoes and clothes. As the cradle closed around ter, I sank down beside the platform.

  Te was out now, the MedSystem keeping ter under while it finished its assessment and started to work. Two medical drones flew around me, one diving in toward my shoulder and the other poking at the wound in my thigh. I ignored them.

  A larger drone flew in, carrying Rami’s bag, ter blood-stained jacket, and my knapsack. ART flashed me a view of the other drones still inside the shuttle. Four of the humans in the shuttle were still alive, though unconscious. ART had sent drones to scrub and sterilize away my fluids and Rami’s blood from the shuttle’s interior. ART had already wiped the bot pilot’s memory and deleted any security data. It was also chatting casually with transit ring launch authority with a forged feed signature from one of the dead humans.

  I watched as the drones finished and retreated, then ART sealed the shuttle again and launched it with a filed flight plan back to RaviHyral. The onboard bot pilot would land it, full of terribly injured humans, and no one would know they hadn’t done it to each other until they were all conscious and told their stories. Though maybe some wouldn’t want to tell the story of how they had helped kidnap another human. Whatever happened, it would give us all time to get out of here.

  I asked ART, ::How did you know to do that?:: though I already knew the answer.

  It knew I knew, but it said, ::Episode 179 of The Rise and Fall of Sanctuary Moon.::

  ComfortUnit knelt beside me. “Can I help?”

  “No.” The medical drones were clamped onto me now, digging for the projectiles, and I was leaking onto ART’s pristine MedSystem floor. The anesthetic was making me numb. “How did you know I was one of the Ganaka Pit units?”

  It said, “I saw you get off the tube access in that section. There’s nothing else down there. It’s not in the historical database anymore, but the humans still tell each other horror stories about it. If you were really a rogue and not under orders to go there, then there was an eighty-six percent chance that you went there because you were one of the units involved.”

  I believed it. “Drop your wall.”

  It did, and I rode the feed into its brain. I could feel ART with me, alert for traps. But I found the governor module, rendered it null, and slid back out into my own body again.

  The ComfortUnit had fallen back, sitting down on the deck with a thump, staring at me.

  I said, “Go away. Don’t let me see you again. Don’t hurt

anyone on this transit ring or I’ll find you.”

  It shoved upright, unsteady. More of ART’s drones flicked through the air, making sure it didn’t try to damage anything, herding it toward the door. It followed the drones out into the corridor. Through ART’s feed I watched it go through to the main hatch, where the lock cycled and it went out into the transit ring.

  ART watched it walk away through its lock camera. It said, ::I thought you might destroy it.::

  Too tired and numb to talk, I signaled a negative through the feed. It hadn’t had a choice. And I hadn’t broken its governor module for its sake. I did it for the four ComfortUnits at Ganaka Pit who had no orders and no directive to act and had voluntarily walked into the meat grinder to try to save me and everyone else left alive in the installation.

  ART said, ::Now get on the other platform. The shuttle will land soon and there is a great deal of evidence to destroy.::

  * * *

  When Rami woke, I was sitting on the MedSystem’s platform holding ter hand. The MedSystem had taken care of my wounds, and I’d cleaned off all the blood. The projectiles that had hit me and the energy bursts from my own weapons had left holes in my clothes, and ART had produced a new set for me from its recycler. It was basically ART’s crew uniform without the logos: pants with lots of sealable pockets, a long-sleeved shirt with a collar just high enough to cover my data port, and a soft hooded jacket, all of it either dark blue or black. I fed my bloody clothes into the recycler so the waste-reclamation levels would be neutral and ART wouldn’t have to forge its log.

  Rami blinked up at me, confused. “Um,” te said, and squeezed my hand. The drugs made ter expression bleary. “What happened?”

  I said, “They tried to kill us again. We had to leave. We’re back on the transit ring, on my friend’s ship.”

 Ter eyes widened as te remembered. Te winced, and muttered, “Fuckers.”

  “Your friend was telling the truth, he gave me your files.” I held up the memory clip, and showed ter I was putting it into the interface pocket in ter bag. I’d checked it already for malware or tracers. “This ship has to leave soon. I need you to call Tapan and Maro to come meet us outside the embarkation zone.”

  “Okay.” Te fumbled at ter ear, and I handed ter the blue feed interface. One of ART’s drones had found it in Tlacey’s pocket. Te took it, started to put it back in ter ear, and hesitated. “They’re going to be so mad.”

  “Yeah, they are.” I thought they would be so glad to have ter alive it wouldn’t occur to them to be angry.

  Te winced again. “I’m sorry. I should have listened to you.”

  “It wasn’t your fault.”

  Ter brow crinkled. “I kind of think it was.”

  “It was my fault.”

  “It’s both our faults then, but we won’t tell anybody,” Rami decided, and wiggled the interface into ter ear.

  * * *

  I did a quick walk-through of the areas of the ship I had used, to make sure nothing was out of place. ART’s drones had already come through, taking Rami’s bloody clothes to be cleaned and sterilizing surfaces so any attempt to collect trace evidence would fail. Not that ART intended to be here when the investigation started. We were all leaving immediately, but ART believed in contingency plans. I started to remove the comm interface ART had given me. “You need to clean this, too.”

::No,:: ART said. ::Keep it. Maybe we’ll come within range of each other again.::

  The MedSystem had already sterilized itself and deleted the records of my configuration change and the emergency trauma treatments to both me and Rami. I was waiting for ter when te came out of the bath facility. Drones followed ter in to clean away any traces of ter presence, and te said, “I’m ready.” Te had stuffed ter old clothes into ter pack and was wearing fresh ones. Te still looked a little bleary.

  We walked out together and the lock sealed behind us. I had the cameras in the embarkation zone and ART was already doctoring the security recordings on its lock to erase our presence.

  We met Tapan, Maro, and the rest of their group at a food stand outside the embarkation zone. Tapan had messaged me that they had already bought passage on a passenger transport leaving within the hour. They greeted Rami enthusiastically, with tears and admonishments to each other not to squeeze ter too hard.

  I’d told them already not to talk about it in public. Tapan turned and handed me a hard currency card. “Your friend Art said this was a good way to pay you.”

  “Right.” I took it and tucked it in a sealable pocket.

  They were all watching me now and it was a little nerve-racking. Tapan said, “So, you’re going?”

  I had my eye on a cargo transport heading the right direction. With luck I should be leaving within minutes of their departure. “Yes, I should hurry.”

  “Can we hug you?” Maro let go of Rami and faced me.

  “Uh.” I didn’t step back, but it must have been obvious the answer was no.

  Maro nodded. “Okay. This is for you.” She wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed.

  I said, “I’ve got to go,” and walked away down the mall.

  Fading, already disengaging from its lock, ART said in my feed, ::Be careful. Find your crew.::

  I tapped the feed in acknowledgment, because if I tried to say anything else I was going to sound stupid and emotional.

  I didn’t know what I was going to do now, if I was going to go ahead with my plan or not. I had hoped finding out what had happened at Ganaka Pit would clear everything up, but maybe revelations like that only happened in the media.

  Speaking of which, I needed to grab some more downloads before my next transport left. It was going to be a long trip.

[whats-wild-to-you]

100 Days To Fall In Love

[day 2]

“Morning.” A voice said, making me jump. My spoon flew in the air, clattering in the cereal bowl as it came back down. Heejin hurried inside the kitchen, ready to step in and help out.

“Did I startle you?” Jay said, chuckling. His back was turned to me as he inspected the contents of the fridge.

“Anything specific you want, Mr. Park?” Heejin asked, her voice dripping with honey. If I didn’t know any better I’d say she was flirting with her boss.

“No, I’m good, thank you.” Eventually she bowed her head and left me and Jay alone.

“How was your first night here?” He asked before I could ask him if he was the one who came back in the middle of the night.

When I didn’t respond, he continued.

“I wanted to wrap up work early yesterday because I had something to discuss with you but then it got late.”

“We can discuss it now!” My response came out kinda standoffish, and it made Jay raise an eyebrow.

I still hadn’t figured out if the maids knew about our secret or if they thought I was Jay’s girlfriend for real. Something in Heejin’s behavior made me think they knew this was all staged. Why else would she openly flirt with him in front of me?

“We will discuss it later. For now you need to get ready to go out with me. We’re going to a launch party. There are gonna be a lot of paparazzi so I prepared your outfit.”

Right! Part of the deal was to be photographed as the loving couple we were supposed to be.

I knew I was in over my head when Jay brought his Ferrari to a halt on Apgujeong Rodeo and held his hand out to help me get out of the car. My palms were sweaty and my heart was racing.

We were supposed to be a couple in love, yet I knew nothing about the man in front of me. Still, I tried my best to fulfill my part of the deal. I stared lovingly into his eyes, smiled widely whenever he grabbed my hand or looked at me.

He dragged me inside, past the paparazzi who took our pictures and scratched their heads, thinking who this inconspicuous girl with Jay might be. I exhaled the breath I was holding, thinking I made it through the worst. 

But it was inside that the real test began. People were flocking around Jay, women pushing past others to greet him, eager to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Jay momentarily forgot about me, adored by the many women who were so much better looking than me. Expensive jewelry hung from their necks and wrists, and they were all clad in luxurious garments. Next to them I felt small and insignificant, even with the expensive dress Seolhyun laid out for me.

Then finally, one of Jay’s male acquaintances noticed me and smiled warmly at me.

“Jay, is that the famous Hyo Ri?”

With a questioning look, I turned to Jay. “You’ve been talking to your friends about me, but I know nothing about them!” I concluded, focusing my attention back on the man who now stood alarmingly close to me.

Jay was breathing heavily and his eyes were shooting daggers at the man. 

What is his problem?, I thought, trying to assess the situation with what little information I had.

“Babe, can I talk to you for a minute? Alone!” I pulled at Jay’s arm slowly removing him from the group.

“Why did you have to open your mouth?” He shouted at me once we were in a private room, behind closed doors.

“Excuse me? That guy talked to me first. And only because you failed to introduce me. Because you were too busy eye-fucking those women who threw themselves at you!”

I didn’t mean to, but in the end I sounded jealous. 

“I’ve talked to them about you on multiple occasions. They know who you are.”

“And you didn’t think you should at least discourage your female acquaintances from flirting with you when your girlfriend is present? I seem to remember you telling me that we had to look like a couple. I should be furious right now. Storm off! Do something extreme, no?”

Jay ran his fingers through his luscious hair, visibly irritated.

“This is what I wanted to talk to you about! This is normal behavior for these people. And you’re supposed to be from the same social circle, so you shouldn’t even be offended! You shouldn’t even care. It’s harmless!”

“Really? Because when I started a conversation with what’s-his-face, you almost lunged at him!”

“That’s different. He’s an ass. Don’t ever talk to him!”

“Okay, so what exactly am I allowed to do?” I asked sincerely. I didn’t want to blow my cover but Jay threw me in the arena with nothing to defend myself.

“Just sit by my side. Don’t talk to anybody!”

“What if someone asks me something? Am I supposed to ignore them?”

“Nobody’s gonna want anything from you. If you sit quietly, they’ll forget about you in a couple minutes.”

“Awesome!” I snapped at him, opening the door to join the rest of the party.

Hours passed and Jay was still talking to the same group of friends. Although, as time passed, I started questioning more and more if these were really friends. 

From the few bits and pieces I heard, it seemed that they were all old school friends who grew up together. If Jay turned out to be as obnoxious as his ‘friends’, I was in for an interesting ride.

As Jay predicted, nobody seemed to care that I wasn’t talking or participating in the conversation. Nobody asked me anything, like they had completely forgotten about my existence. Soon after, I noticed the bored look on his face. As if he sensed that I was staring at him, he turned his head to face me. Suddenly he got up, announced to the room that he had other obligations to attend, grabbed my hand and dragged me outside.

Without a word he opened the passenger door of his Ferrari and closed it as soon as I got in. We almost arrived at his house before he began speaking again.

“Sorry.”

“For what?”

“I dragged you in there unprepared. And then I lashed out at you. I shouldn’t have.”

I didn’t know what to say, though Jay himself looked as if he wasn’t done talking.

“I should’ve come home earlier last night. Then I could’ve briefed you. But I was busy.” He lowered his voice when he uttered that last part. He also looked away as if I’d be able to spot his lie had I been able to look him in the eyes.

I remembered Mr. Kim last night mentioning that Jay often spent the nights in Seoul if it got late, but he never specifically mentioned work being the reason why he was late. There could be a million other things keeping him busy and away from his home.

I foolishly assumed it could only be work.

A strange and unfamiliar feeling crept its way to my core. I knew tonight was a bad time, but I promised myself to get to the bottom of this.

“I’m not tired, we could stay in the living room and you could tell me all the things you didn’t tell me earlier.” 

“Not here! The maids could hear us!”

That answered my question about whether the maids knew about our little secret. They obviously didn’t.

Jay grabbed my arm and led me to his room. Finally I’d see what his private chambers looked like.

To my surprise it was nothing like I imagined. His room was as big as mine, if not bigger, but all there was in there was a bed, a small sitting area and a desk.

No decorations, no pictures on the wall or by the bedside table. No cushions, no mirrors, no plants. Nothing that would make this sterile environment homey. 

His bed was covered in plain white linen and big enough so that at least three people could sleep in it comfortably.

“Sit.” He instructed me, while he disappeared in his closet room.

He came back wearing a tight white tshirt and loose gray sweatpants. In the five minutes he was gone he managed to wash his hair that now covered his forehead and sometimes poked him in the eyes. 

I felt the urge to reach out and brush it to the side, away from his face. But I resisted. 

“I really want to help you, but you have to trust me and tell me things. I’m being thrown into the deep end here. All this is so unfamiliar to me. I’m supposed to allow other women to flirt with my boyfriend? Who in their right mind would want this?”

“I forgot you were engaged. What happened? Why did you break up?”

“I don’t want to talk about this!”

“Okay…”

“Instead, tell me how I should behave! How do rich people who don’t have a single care in the world behave?”

“You need to stop caring. Act like nothing interests you. Whether I flirt with other women or not, wheth-“

“Am I allowed to flirt with other men too then?”

“No!”

“Why?”

“Because. That’s non negotiable.”

“I saw nothing being written in the contract.”

“It goes without saying!”

Jay wouldn’t budge and for the time being I decided to let it go.

“What else?”

“You need to touch me!”

“Excuse me?”

“Have you not noticed other couples at that party? Though they weren’t interacting with each other, they were constantly touching each other. The rich and famous don’t engage in PDA. That’s just fodder for the paps. But still, they somehow have to announce to the room that they’re together, right? So they keep touching each other often.”

“I guess I can do that.” I said, watching Jay nod in satisfaction.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“How come the maids don’t know about our arrangement.”

“They don’t need to.”

“And how do we justify the fact that we’re sleeping in separate rooms? Won’t they grow suspicious?”

There was a change in the way Jay looked at me.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t couples usually share a bedroom?”

“Did you share one with your fiancé?”

“If you must know, we didn’t live together.”

“See? So two people can even be engaged but not necessarily share a home or bed. All totally normal.”

“I guess.”

“Anything else?”

“So work kept you busy last night, huh? I heard you coming in late?”

“Did I wake you up?” He asked, strategically changing the subject.

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Work. Yeah.” Jay answered absentmindedly.

Somehow I didn’t believe it. But did it change anything? He owed me no explanation. And since we weren’t really a couple he could be actually seeing someone else. And it was none of my business.

“If that’s all, I’d like to rest.” It was his way of kicking me out of his room. I had hoped he would join me for dinner since I hated eating alone, but I guess he didn’t mind the solitude.

“Rest well.” I whispered more to myself as I left.

Heejin came up to me at the staircase, asking me where I’d like to eat my dinner. I sighed. I had somehow lost my appetite.

“Please tell Changmin he doesn’t have to prepare me dinner tonight.”

“Very well Ms. Lee.”

I disappeared inside my room and sat down at my desk, eager to write down the events of the day. Jay’s strange requests, his strange behavior. Everything.

I realized it would take great effort to get used to this kind of life. But then a bittersweet thought crossed my mind.

It’s only for 100 days.

100 days will pass by in the blink of an eye.

I probably won’t have time to acclimate.

***

[day 10]

[rainbowvamp]

9. love triangle

Oh love triangles. 

I’m going to be honest, I don’t understand traditional love triangles anymore. Once I was introduced to Polyamory as a concept, I just didn’t understand them, so… how about instead of writing about a love triangle, we write about a triad. 

Which triad? Oh which triad? There are so many to choose from! Merwaincelots, I’m saving something up for Merwaincelot week. I want to talk about Merwencelot. 

Gods I love Merwencelot. The three of them standing together before Lancelot’s little knight’s trial? It means everything to me! Their little interactions as Gwen is getting ready to make him a little knight’s outfit?! Lancelot asking Merlin if they’re together! I can’t stand it! I could burst with my love for this triad.

Ik, Arthur is supposed to be Gwen’s great love or whatever, but never once in my life have I cared about what is canon less than I do about Arthur’s canon. 

Gwen brushes on both Merlin and Lancelot canonically. Lancelot crushes on Gwen canonically. If you want a love triangle, how about Lancelot and Gwen are Together and pining for Merlin. How about Gwen and Lancelot sitting together and talking about how they got together, reminiscing a year or so later (nothing bad happened, Lancelot became a knight and never left Camelot), and Lancelot is like “yeah, lol, I thought you and Merlin were together when we first met, but when I asked he said no.” And Gwen is like “I only wish we had been together. Tbh, I still fancy him. Just a bit.” Because they have the secure sort of relationship where she can say that and Lancelot would not freak out about it because he’s a Genuinely Good Guy. 

And Lancelot’s like, “Actually, kind of same.” 

And then they have this little secret shared between them about how they both have a little crush on Merlin, and Merlin is absolutely oblivious. They start leaving him little gifts, and he things “aww, my friends are so nice.” And they’re like, “… yes. We are so nice.” And they do not correct him because they are his friends and they are nice.

And Merlin never develops feelings for them, because aro, but he does love them a whole lot, and so he just… moves in with them one day. “Are you sure I’m not imposing?” 

“No, never!” They both say, and they are so so so happy! Gwen and Lancelot are married at this point, obviously, and he’s their housemate/bestfriend/secret crush. What could go wrong? 

And nothing goes wrong, really. Merlin is happy to be so near his friends. He does magically openly in their home without fear of being walked in on at any point. He sleeps in a separate bed for a while and then the winter gets really really bad and Lancelot very gallantly offers to sleep in the middle of the bed so Merlin can share their warmth (as though this is any real hardship to him or his wife). 

Merlin gratefully accepts because warming spells only last while he is awake and it is freaking cold!

Merlin curls up with his back against Lancelot and when he starts snoring Gwen and Lancelot share one soft kiss because they’re just so glad that he is close to them.

They share the bed for a couple more nights through harsh winters and Lancelot wakes up with Merlin curled around him on the third morning. Gwen giggles about it and Lancelot and Merlin are both blushing, but it’s goodnatured embarrassment. It’s pretty clear that it’s not that big of a deal for Lancelot when they go about the morning and nothing has really changed except sometimes Lancelot smiles a little brighter and Merlin relaxes and doesn’t worry about it and goes to go do whatever he’s doing in th castle because at this point there’s no way he’s Arthur’s manservant, but I don’t care enough to come up with another thing for him to do. 

And Gwen and Lancelot gush about it and Gwen asks Lancelot if it was good, and he tells her it was just as nice as waking up with her in his arms! So cute! 

I know you’re thinking this doesn’t sound like a triad yet, but wait. Wait.

QPR. Queer platonic relationship. Merlin is like “when you guys have a kid, I call dibs on second dad.” And Merlin is really really really surprised when Lancelot and Gwen are both like “duh. What did you think you’d be?” 

It makes Merlin all glowey to think that his friends think he’s good enough to be a third parent to their maybe one day child. 

One time when Lancelot has to go off to battle or something, he asks Merlin, basically begs him, to look after Gwen if for any reason he can’t return. Merlin’s like “me? Are you sure?” And Lancelot gives him this look that he has obviously borrowed from Leon because it is very long suffering and says, “yes, you Merlin. You live in our house; you share our bed; who else would I trust with this?”

And Merlin kind of suddenly gets in. 

Oh, wow, okay, he’s kind of with them, but not with them. It’s complicated. He can see that it is very complicated. But it is a good complicated. He likes it.

They should have a conversation about it, but Lancelot is riding off to battle and so that’s probably not going to happen anytime soon. 

He and Gwen have an awkward hour or so before Merlin admits what’s bothering him and Gwen is like “Yeah, you’re just like an extension of us? We aren’t together, but… I mean, we sort of just fell into this really good thing and I know you don’t love us romantically, but you love us and you live with us and you’re a part of our family.”

Merlin promptly cries.

He hugs Gwen and he sleeps with his head on her shoulder.

Lancelot was right, because it just as nice as when Lancelot holds her. 

When Lancelot comes back from battle it is very late at night, Merlin and Gwen are already sleeping and it’s the whole “married man walks into his wife in another man’s arms” scenario, except he is so happy and when he starts to undress for bed Gwen wakes up and looks around a bit with half closed eyes and when she sees Lancelot she smiles and tells him just, “he’s ours.” And goes back to sleep.

Lancelot climbs in the bed beside Merlin instead of Gwen and holds them both.

Merlin wakes up in the night to complain that he’s hot and makes Lancelot go back to the middle. 

Lancelot climbs over him in high spirits and they all go back to sleep. 

The end. 

[hellohelloxo]

I think about you all the time. I wrote letters to give to you, but I think I always knew they were for you, even when they weren’t supposed to be. We haven’t seen each other in years now, so maybe this time it’ll work.

I loved you. I loved you in a way that was self destructive. I ripped myself apart when you didn’t ask me to. I wanted to be the best girlfriend, the kind of girlfriend you would never leave because why would you? I made myself unrecognizable in my naive desire to be wanted. I made myself so unrecognizable that even if you wanted me then, you wouldn’t really want me. You’d want the version of me I starved from her hobbies and most basic needs. You know I only ate when I cooked for you, or when we went out right? If you or A weren’t there I just starved. I’ve gained weight now (I’m still trying to be ok with it).

But I don’t think it was my fault. I don’t think it was your fault. I think you were just my first real love. Not true love, because I don’t think true love would do to me what you did. I don’t think true love would make me feel ridiculous for loving openly, overwhelmingly, excitedly. I don’t think true love would leave me drunk on a raft with my rapist. I don’t think true love would cheat on me. But it was real. And you were the first.

I still think about you. And I hope you think about me. Maybe not with regret, or resentment, or even longing. But just an acknowledgment. That for a while, we were good. That having movie marathons, getting brunch, and just. Being around each other was good. And now we don’t know each other. And that’s weird isn’t it? Because we never really knew each other. You knew the precursor to the worst version of me. You knew the girl who, once you weren’t there to remind me of why I wanted to be…. That (for what reason I’ll never know), for lack of better words, has never hated her personality more than because was it really her personality? Or was it just the things I changed to keep you happy? I became someone who sought shock value. I became someone who had to be interesting first and a person last. I still see that now (a very toned down, less offensive version of it, but still interesting before real), but me and C are working on it (you’ll never meet C. She hates you though)

Did you know? That you would leave me when you were introducing me to your aunt and uncle? I would assume so, it was only a couple weeks before you did it. And did you really HAVE to end things minutes before recruitment? I mean. Really could you not have waited until I wasn’t about to have my last ever bid day (even if I didn’t know it at the time)?

I’m kind of glad you left. Well. I’m really glad you left. If I saw you on campus, I think I would’ve snapped eventually. I’m trying to be less angry at you but, honestly that last month left me more anxious than I’ve ever felt. Maybe it was recruitment, or knowing that this was my last year before I applied to get my doctorate, or that you made me start birth control and it made my body forget what serotonin looked like, but I have never felt as unsafe and unsupported than in that last month.

You ruined me. You made me. I know what I want in a partner. I look for parts of you in them, but there are some parts that, if I see thaem, send me running. I have never done better than the year after you left. I’ve never been worse than the year you did leave. And I still don’t know how to feel about you. All my friends hate you. Say you were never good enough. And god knows if you ever saw my dad you may not walk away.

I hope you’re doing better. You really worried me. You know people told me they thought you were going to kill yourself after you broke up with me? I was scared. I hope leaving helped you find peace. I hope I never see you again. I hope you think about me as much as I think about you, because wouldn’t it be pathetic if you didn’t?

So. Here we are. Done. Like we have been, but I think I’m a bit more open to the idea of what we had wasn’t healthy. Maybe it wasn’t intentionally toxic, and I think we did love each other (I certainly loved you), but it still left both of us tired. A husk of who we really wanted to be (and not just in that moment), replaced by people who couldn’t love for themselves (or themselves, if we’re being honest).

I wish I forgave you. I’m not sure I do. But I won’t forget you. I don’t love you anymore, but I know I did. I’m kind of fond of your memory, the way someone’s fond of a feral raccoon. Nice to see pictures of and know you’re still generally ok at the very least, but only from other people’s accounts.

You were right, I’m ok now. I’m actually much better than ok, and that’s mostly because you’re not here. I won’t thank you for leaving me, because you hurt me. You gave me false hope, cheated on me (very publicly), and then disappeared so no I won’t thank you. But I’ll let you go, which I really think is the best case scenario.

At one point I thanked you for the lessons, but if we’re being honest, the scars you left (ew) were never lessons. They were just wounds I had to learn how to heal.

I hope you know I hated that. Too mushy (I say while writing borderline therapy porn). So here we really go: I used to love you. I used to miss you (sometimes I still do, in moments of extreme loneliness, or when I’m having some severe rejection dysphoria), and I used to know you. You used to know me. I think it’s better that we don’t.

Goodbye, J