#Faith x Carson

[netherfeildren]

The Cassandra Complex : Chapter XI : Lethe

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Brief reference to sexual assault (none has or will occur); Hurt/Comfort; Extremely soft Din Djarin

A/N: I kinda just winged all of this, if there are any inaccuracies or any canon divergence, a great and many apologies!

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 7.7K

Read on AO3

CHAPTER XI : LETHE

At what point does one say of a man that he has become unreal?

Anne Carson, Autobiography of Red

Between bouts of wakefulness, you tell him of the things they did to you in the dark. A blooming flower in the dead of winter, stunted and slow, and as if you’re pulling your own teeth in some moments, when other words come like vomit, rushed and hot and putrid but necessary, something not to be held back. And you don’t tell him the whole of it, he knows this, he can see, but you tell him the parts you can bear, and for now, it’s enough. 

You sit in that bed of comfort he’s so meticulously arranged for you in the dim light of the Razor Crest, overheads shut off, only a single warm snake of glowing light falling over you from the cracked open fresher door, navcom set for the desert planet of Tatooine and the spaceport of Mos Eisley, and the thrum of hyperspace buzzes around the two of you. He sits on the opposite side of the hull, wrapped in his armor and his silence and his wanting, and he watches you ebb and flow out of sleep; soft, slow drooping of your eyes into wakefulness and then back into the depths of rest. You need so much of it, he can tell. 

At first, you don’t let him near. No touching, please, you beg in whispers, and although it feels as though his bones are thrashing within the confines of his skin or like his teeth will fall out of his skull from the saccharine sweet flavor of want for you that sits sticky on his tongue, he obeys. So at a distance, with certainly no touching at all, the two of you talk. For hours, and then for days, and although his bones continue to shake, and his teeth continue to ache, he holds himself in temperance and restraint because he knows that to just look upon you is enough, he knows it’s everything. 

The trip to Tatooine takes days, the Crest a little worse for wear than what she’d been when you’d previously been aboard. The hits she’d taken over the years, over his and Grogu’s journey had taken their toll, and her hyperdrive was no longer what it had once been. But she ramained faithful and sturdy, like any good mistress, and she’d get the two of you where you needed to be, to Tatooine and to Peli for some much needed maintenance after the long trip to the Core. And Din knew it wouldn’t only be the ship’s routine upkeep the two of you would find there, but some much needed rest in the sand port, as well, and most importantly, time. Buying himself time during the slow going trip, and then there, to figure out how it was he was going to get you to stay with him, force you if necessary. 

He’d been telling the truth when he’d said you weren’t going anywhere. He would not be left again. 

Din had been a stupid man before. He would not be making the same sorts of mistakes again. 

Two days since he’d brought you aboard now, and you’re still not entirely well. Tired and sluggish, but he tells himself you just need rest and the closely monitored interval feedings he’s been coaxing on you. You’re sleeping again now after he’d gently cooed and shushed you into accepting some broth, and he watches the methodical up and down sway of the wing of your shoulder, hypnotizing, listening to the whistle of your open mouthed breathing that sings a song assuring him you’re alive and well. He’s been sitting at the opposite end of the hull from you, as far as he can get while still remaining in your direct vicinity, attempting to give you whatever measure of peace he can bear, silent and still, enshrouded in the dark for hours now. Counting the minutes between the sporadic opening of your eyes, the brief moments when you come to and grant him access to your gaze.

Those eyes of yours, they’d haunted him for two years. When he was trying to forget you, when he was trying to move on, stupid and horrible, insisting he could only take Omera from behind because he couldn’t bear the sight of a face that wasn’t yours. He had been wrong. He had done wrong. He had been bad. And he didn’t want to admit it, or acknowledge it, or look it directly in the face, but it was regret which lived in him. He couldn’t deny it. 

He’s been scanning your heat signatures every thirty minutes, your core temperature holding normal, your vitals stable, and he’s full of sick paranoia, ravenous want, singing joy. Too many things churning within him to properly digest, and in a way, he’s grateful for this time you’re affording him to gather himself while you sleep and recover. He needs to be well collected, ready and strong and level headed to give you whatever it is you might need when you’re finally ready to leave your restful unconsciousness and come back to him.

You start to shift as he’s scanning your temperature once again. First the hitching of a knee and the nudge of your hips, and then your leg stretching long and lithe, and he watches the arch of your small foot peek out from beneath your blanket, tiny toes splaying wide, spasming and shivering with the stretch of your muscles. He swallows hard, forces the heat in his body that would like to swell to an inferno to remain cool and serene. All this, just from the sight of one small foot. He’s pathetic and ridiculous, and he doesn’t care because he loves you, and you finally know and really, what could matter after that? Nothing. 

His eyes swing back up to your face, and he watches the scrunch of your spikey, dark lashes before you nuzzle your face into the cove of your shoulder, coming awake slowly, slowly, as if you’d not had any real, true and peaceful rest since the last time you’d been on his ship. He watches you with bated breath, the subtle inclination of his body towards you as if he were trying to absorb your presence, and when you finally turn back, eyes blinking open he feels his heart lurch in his chest at the first sight of them. Nothing in the galaxy compares, and he must surely know, he’s seen so much of it. 

He says your name, voice low and graveled with disuse. “How do you feel?”

You stretch your arms out in front of you, wriggling beneath the covers and making the most delicious of little noises he forces himself not to fixate on. Oh, you sigh, eyes opening wide, long lashes fanning across high cheekbones, before you finally find him in the shadows he’s sitting in. Nothing but the still gleam of beskar in the dim light to give him away. 

“You’re so extra shiny now,” little voice and even tinier nose scrunch, so adorable that something soft inside of him aches and snaps its teeth. 

“Yes, well…” he sighs, “new armor.”

You sit up slowly, jaw shifting from side to side as you move with what looks like frightened care, like you’re expecting something to hurt, and then, yes, there it is, tiny and subtle, but a flinch. Infinitesimal scrunch of your brows, your left eye winking shut, the droop of your mouth, all of it happening so fast, but he’s watching so intently, learning forward as if he’d shoot across the space that separates the two of you to take you in hand, fix whatever it is that’s aching, that he catches it all before you can school your features into blankness.  

“Your hair’s longer,” he whispers, and you freeze, arms bracing yourself up on locked elbows, they don’t tremble anymore like before, and he takes this as a good sign. You let your head fall forward to hang between your shoulders, long hair, a curtain concealing your face from him, and he wants to snap at you, for one unhinged moment, that you’re not allowed to keep your eyes from him anymore. He’s already gone too long without them, he can’t bear anymore of it. But he swallows his insanity, keeps his mouth shut. 

You shake your head down at the blankets, before finally looking back up, sitting up all the way and turning to face him. Silent while you settle with your back against the wall so that now the two of you are face to face, separated by dust motes and memories and desire that snaps like lightning between the two of you. There is frision here, pressurized and boiling, and he has to behave. He won’t push you or ask anything of you you’re not ready to give or tell. You’d already shared bits and pieces with him, over your stunted bouts of consciousness over the past two days. A dark hole in the ground, a thieving Twi’lek, breaking of a kind he can’t bear to think of directly, and I hurt like I’m newly made, Din. And now, the first time you’ve been fully awake and lucid, he isn’t going to ruin this with his desperation. 

“Fancy. Looks expensive,” you press about the armor. 

“I did a big job.”

He doesn’t know how to handle the subject of him. He’d told you the most important fact you needed to know, that he isn’t his biological son, that he hadn’t betrayed you in that way. But the rest? The whole of it? There was so much to say, so many things, great and small to tell. Din couldn’t fathom where to start. 

“Oh? What was it?” You’ve wrapped the blanket up high beneath your chin, hiding yourself away from him swathed as you are. Everything and anything you can do to keep yourself apart and protected.

“Are you hungry? You should eat,” he says instead.

You shake your head no. “What was it? Tell me.”

A sigh, and, “Stole the kid for some Imperial remnants.”

“You did what? Your kid?” You screech, surging forward all tangled up in the blankets as you are.

“Yes. Unknowingly,” he huffs. “I collected payment, and then I– I… I don’t know, changed my mind. I went back for him.” His words come to a stuttered halt, unsure and suddenly, unbearably shy, fucking with a small loose seam coming apart at the knee of his pants he’d been meaning to mend for days. There’s a part of him, irrational or untried or overprotective that doesn’t want to tell you about him, his ad’ika, and he can’t understand why when it’s you. The girl he loves, the girl he’s waited for. But it had been so difficult, so precarious, his journey with Grogu, always on the defensive, always looking over his shoulder, waitting for the worst. He’s unused to sharing him without fear or trepidation. And then his loss… for that’s what it feels like, and he’d never admit it aloud, knows he’s where he’s supposed to be, needs to be, now, but there still lives a small, sour seed within Din that whispers that that it’s wrong, that Grogu’s place had always been, and always will be, with him. And when he looks back up at your face, open and patient and lovely, it all spills out anyways. “He was a foundling, as I was. And he’s– he’s special. And after I went back for him, he was… put in my charge of sorts. We struggled so much, trying to evade the Empire, seeking out his people–”

“You found the Jedi?” You gasp.

Murky waters. “We did. He’s with them now. We traveled to Calodan on the forest planet of Corvus, we met a Jedi there by the name of Ahsoka Tano. I thought she’d take him then, help him. He needed to be with his people, and I knew that, I was prepared for that, but along the way… along the way he became– he became–” he clears his throat, for his voice has gone rough, almost choked. He shakes his head, unable to continue but you nod encouragingly, understanding without words all Grogu means to him. You’re sitting at the edge of the nest of blankets now, as if gravitating towards him, holding yourself back, marooned on an island of your own making. 

“I’ve heard of her. A great legend, tragedy…”

“Yes, well… She sensed it in us, in Grogu.”

“That’s his name?” You ask softly. “Grogu?” And Din’s heart, it aches, at the sound of it coming from your mouth, all the gentleness and tenderness his ad’ika needs to be afforded. And unbidden, like flash fire, something he has to look away from immediately for his own self preservation, yours too probably, he thinks: oh, but you’d make the most wonderful mother, cyare.

“Yes,” he breathes, “Grogu.”

“And he– he’s a boy? Where does he come from? How old is he?”

“Not human. No one knows what species he is, but he was born on Coruscant, raised at the Jedi temple before the Great Purge, and then smuggled to safety and hidden away for years before I came to find him. He’s supposed to be about fifty years old.”

“But he’s–” your brow folds in confusion, “He’s a child? You called him–”

“Yes. He’s still young, still a baby. I don’t– I don’t know. He’s special. Green and– and wrinkled, with big eyes and even bigger ears.”

“He sounds… he sounds like someone my– my master spoke to me of, once. Of an unknown species, a great Jedi master. Perhaps the strongest in the galaxy, the strongest that's ever lived. Luke Skywalker was his apprentice.”

“That’s where the kid is now– with Skywalker.”

“You gave him to Luke Skywalker?” And your eyes shutter, your mask slipping briefly, showing your frayed edges.

“Yes.” He says carefully. “Ahsoka, she said she couldn’t take him, that we were too– too connected, that he needed someone more.”

“You seem to have a way with Force users,” you say suddenly, a little bashfully, a small smile spreading across your face in a half moon of laughter. “But it makes sense,” you continue, “That his connection, whatever loyalty to you he may have had,” and the use of the past tense feels like a gut punch, “would be difficult to work around when training someone so young and untried. But if he’s anything like his predecessor, then he has great potential in the Force. He’ll probably grow to unprecedented strength eventually. And from what I’ve heard, the species is very long lived, hundreds and hundreds of years.” Another sucker punch, this one even worse. Grogu would live to be old beyond Din’s years.

He clears his throat, yanks harder on the loose seam so that it splits at the side, revealing a patch of hairy knee. “We found those he belongs to, he’s with his people now. I lost him– or I– I returned him to where he should’ve always been. It’s better like this.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper from your perch at the edge of your self imposed island. “I’m sorry you lost him.”

“Don’t be sorry. You have nothing to be sorry for. It’s all the way it’s supposed to be.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Only a few weeks. Like I said, he was taken by Imperial remnants led by a Moff Gideon. Skywalker saved us and took him. He has a temple where he plans to train young Jedi. He’ll be with other children like him now. It’s good for him. I know it is.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of it, he promises he’s not, or doesn’t mean for it to come out like that. 

“I’ve heard of Gideon,” you muse, shifting to lean back, movements still slow, not as smooth as they usually are. The thick mantle of your hair shifts over your shoulder, and Din’s mouth goes dry, desperate to bury his face in all that lush splendor and take in the scent of it, feel the drag of it across his naked chest, over his cock and thighs. 

“What do you know of him?”

“Only his name, and the great ambition tied to it. He took part in the siege on Mandalore… didn’t he?”

“He did. He’s in the custody of the New Republic now. Awaiting trial and judgment.”

“Tell me about the saber,” you say then. 

“I won it from Gideon in battle.”

“It’s the Darksaber, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“It’s legend.” And you look at him strangely at that, mercurial look passing through your eyes, memories or something worse. “Many great and terrible hands have wielded that blade. Clan Vizsla, who forged it, the Sith lord Darth Maul, Sabine Wren.”

He’s shocked by the seemingly great well of knowledge you possess on the figures he’s spent the last two years dealing with. “I’m familiar with the Clan. Paz Vizsla. How do you know all this?” He asks.

“He–” You turn away, brows hitching high, and he watches a swallow pass through the delicate column of your throat. “My master, he was a lover of knowledge, information gathered everywhere, always. He made it his business to know things, and my purpose to collect it for him.”

He wishes you’d let him go to you at the mention of that scum. He wishes he could resurrect him from the dead just to send him back to the deepest pit existing, at the look on your face, small and frightened and childlike. Din’s stomach turns, and he changes the subject. “Wren– she… I think I’ve heard of her from my friend Bo, as well.

“Who?” That brings you back to attention, and he’s grateful for the concealment of the helmet for the small smile he can’t help at the look that comes across your face.

“She’s a Mandalorian. Bo-Katan Kryze.”

“Your friend…?”

“She helped me with the kid. When Moff Gideon captured him, her and her followers aided me in his rescue. It got complicated–”

“Between the two of you?” You cut him off with a little huffing scowl.

“Before Skywalker showed up to help us, little one.”

“Oh,” you huff again, turning your nose up at him haughtily. He can’t help the breath of air he lets out at that. Silly, gorgeous thing. He wants to kiss you so badly. 

“The saber’s rightfully hers.”

“Oh,” again, and he laughs, again. “Oh, yes. Yes. The–” you frown, “The legend is that whoever wields it can rule all of Mandalore. I’ve heard that.”

“And that sure as fuck isn’t me. Her family ruled before the siege, it’s hers.” The entire business of it still scathes and prickles at him.

And you laugh at that, “No?” Head tipping back, that mantle of hair sliding again, provoking him again. “Why not? It could be–”

“No. Definitely not. Never. That isn’t something I’d ever be interested in. I would never suit such a role. And this– this thing…” he motions to the crate where the Darksaber sits discarded. He’d found he hated wearing it on himself for too long. “It doesn't suit me well. It’s difficult to wield, something– something leaden and sucking about it.”

“You wielded it just fine from what I saw.”

“You were doing something.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I could feel you, when you attacked me–”

“I didn’t attack you,” you scoff, affronted. Haughty nose back up in the air, and the soft thing inside Din snaps its teeth together once more. 

“Don’t start,” he admonishes, voice deep and rumbling and speaking of all the things he’d like to do to you that he cannot even give thought to right now. You roll your eyes, and he can’t help but smile. Sass is good, sass means you’re feeling better, more yourself. 

“I could feel you, almost as if you were feeding your energy into me.”

You turn to look at him sharply at that. Tiny frown marring the space between your fine brows he’d like to smooth away with a kiss. “What? I– I didn’t mean to, or– or I didn’t know I was doing that…” You look away again, pressing fingertips to your mouth in concentration. Everything about you, every movement, gesture, frown and sigh and inflection, mesmerizes him. Din didn’t think it possible he could have been worse off than he was before, but he comes to the sudden, startling realization, that he’d had absolutely no idea how much deeper he could fall. The admission that you love him in return, the sound of it, had done something to him, set something off or opened something within him. Some sort of yawning, hungry maw that would only be satisfied once it’d swallowed you whole. 

He needs to bide his time and temper his actions. He won’t scare you off. 

“I was out of control…” you continue in a small whisper. “I didn’t know. I didn’t–” And you look nervous, frightened suddenly. Din leans forward, immediately on alert, ready to rush over to you if you need him, just from the look on your face. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” You’re all wide eyed fright and concern and an innocence about you, about the question, your worry that you’d hurt him. His heart thumps and thumps and thumps, the rush of blood through the mass of organ so hot it burns. 

“Never, cyar’ika. You could never hurt me. I just feel you.” And it’s the truth, it had merely been an extension of yourself feeding him, strengthening him, emboldening him like nothing he’d ever experienced before. Something euphoric about the feeling he was not keen to experience again for the mere fact of how it’d left you, weak and fragile and exhausted, almost at a breaking point. 

The two of you need to be careful, he realizes. There was a connection between the two of you, stronger and more easily traversed than either of you had previously realized, be it fate or love or the Force, but there was something that lived between the two of you and connected you and Din needs to be absolutely sure that whatever it is never becomes a detriment to you in any way. 

You tilt your head sideways, some truth he knows he should fear churning behind your eyes. You bring your knees up to fold tightly against your chest, wrapping your arms around your shins, and lay your cheek against the small cap, hiding away from him again. “I want–” you say in a very small voice, “I want to tell you things, but I’m afraid of–” a swallow of breath. 

“Afraid of what, cyare?”

At the tremble of your spine as you hitch with nerves, Din wants to go to you so badly. This is the most difficult thing he’s ever endured in his life. “Afraid you won’t see me the same again after I tell them.”

“Didn’t I already tell you there isn’t anything you could ever do that I wouldn’t forgive you for?” He presses forward just a millimeter. 

You peer up at him at that, and there are no tears in your eyes which soothes him, in part, but worse, still splintered with so much sadness or hurt or the terror of time, and it’s like he’s bellyful of grief. There is something acutely unfair about the distance sitting between the two of you right now when you’re holding that look in your eyes. 

“But what about respect?” 

“You could never lose that from me either.” You shake your head, propping your chin on your bent knees and wrapping your hands around your feet to pull them up and rock back and then forward, thinking of what it is you're trying to say. 

“Don’t you think there are certain things that a person shouldn’t be forgiven for?”

“Perhaps. But there are certain people the rules don’t apply to. That’s you for me.”

“That isn’t fair.”

“To who?”

“To you!” You say incredulously.

“Why not?”

“You–” And there are tears now, swimming in your eyes, his heart thump, thumping in agitation at the sight of them. He gives a growl of frustration that ends on a choke as you squeeze your eyes shut, a single tear sliding over the slope of your cheekbone. “Maker, Din. This is all wrong.” You sound as full of frustration as he feels, and he wants to say that he’s sure if you’d just let him come to you, you’d find the right way forward within each other. “You want to touch me.” He bites down on his tongue hard enough to taste blood. 

“Are you looking in my head?”

You give a soft laugh. “Don’t need to.” He huffs, well, he isn’t going to deny it. 

You turn away again, laying your cheek back atop your knee, and he can see the tension in your arms as you squeeze yourself tight, tighter. “I– I can’t– I can’t have sex with you,” you say in a smaller voice than he could’ve imagined possible. 

He’s silent for a moment, trying to measure his breathing, and there’s violence thrumming within him at what he’s about to ask, but his voice is nothing but gentleness. “Did they– did they hurt you like that?”

You heave a long sigh, “No, but the feel of skin, I cant– I– I hurt everywhere, Din. Everywhere. Inside and– and–”

“It’s alright. It’s alright, cyar’ika.” He tries to push his voice out in gentle, measured notes. Something that’ll soothe you from afar. And the sight of you, all twisted and squeezed up into a tight little ball like you are– Maker– Din feels afraid, for a moment, of what might become of him, of the sort of violence he feels capable of in your name. “If it hurts, you don’t have to tell me anything now or at all.”

“I want to. Is it–” You look up, brow folding, squinty eyed as if you’re rifling through your head for the words. “How do I– how do I tell you that you deserve to know the full of it, but don’t deserve to carry the burden of it? That I wish I didn’t have to, but that I also want to tell you.”

“Just like that.” He presses another half a millimeter forward, feels like he’s hallucinating the scent of you from over here. “Tell me anything you need just like that. But don’t say it’d be a burden, you could never be anything even close to that to me.”

And still, with your eyes not on him, you say that which he’d already been expecting: “I let them keep me.”

He’d known. 

He’d known. 

“Are they dead?”

“Yes.”

“All of them?”

“Yes.”

“You didn't leave even one for me?” Your cheek rolls against the hill of your knee, eyes swinging up to spark at him, and Maker, as long as he’s still able to pull that look from you there’s hope. He can fix anything if only you continue to look at him like that. 

The trip to Tatooine takes about ten days. Bouts of sleeping and eating and his gentle but insistent caring for you. He won’t let you pull away or into yourself; kept at a distance, but not pulling away, and the distinction might not be obvious, but he sees it. That’s enough. 

Days later, when you wake again, a little stronger, but still sleepy and soft and beautiful, your hair is even longer. Seeming to grow a yard a day, incredibly. “It’s the Force; healing me, reconnecting with me. It works in strange ways,” you tell him as it pools around your waist. He says nothing, catalogs everything, and later, you come, moving slowly up the ladder into the cockpit to join him in the co-pilot's chair, bundled in a blanket. He’d left some of his socks for you warming on a pipe, just like before, and he sees the thick weave of them droopy over your toes, the part where his heel is supposed to go coming up to your ankle. He swallows and looks away and breathes and breathes and reminds himself he is strong and patient and entirely at your service in any way you might need. Din reminds himself that he must be good. 

Your wounds heal slowly over the days, and he gripes and groans that all your energy is funneling into that damn hair and not the more important bits of you. He perches you on a crate, after having urged you into the fresher, pacing outside anxiously, hands on his hips, a huff and a sigh a minute while he listens for any bump or movement from within, making sure you don’t need him. He sticks a bowl of soup in your hands after, kneeling before you, gloves fitted over his hands so that you won’t have to feel his skin and shows you the bacta patches slowly, movements intentional and measured so that you’re not taken by surprise or touched in any way that you might not like. You eye him suspiciously, brow hitched, nose scrunched when you sniff delicately at the broth and then promptly discarding the bowl beside his medical kit, watching for what he plans to do with you next.

“That bit on your elbow isn’t healing.”

You give him a tiny frown, tucking the sore little wing tight into your side protectively. He presents his palms towards you, moves slowly. “It’s fine,” you pout.

“You know it’s not, little one. I’m going to put a single bacta patch over it. That’s it. No fuss, I promise.” Still moving slowly, watching the look in your eyes, opening the packet gently, he reaches for your arm, index finger and thumb taking hold of you first, a barely there cuff of his fingers just above your joint. He gives one slow stroke of his thumb, feeling you lock up, makes a low noise deep in his chest, something to soothe and coax you as he pulls your arm gently forward, untucking it from your side. “It’s alright, cyar’ika. Just a little bacta, nothing scary.” Your eyes go a little glazed, head tilting sideways to look down at him, mass of your hair shifting around you. That hair and those eyes and that face, Maker, but this is where he belongs, this is where he should always be, at his knees before you. 

You give a soft sigh verging on a breathy little moan, your eyes fluttering shut as he smooths his thumb against the inner slope of your elbow, just there at the vulnerable dip, but when he slowly starts to lift your arm to get at the back side where the wound is, raw and red, a burned and angry looking thing, you wince, a little screech warbling in your throat, before jerking back trying to get away from him, quick and violent in your incoordination. That damned shoulder you haven’t let him look at yet, he knows it’s bad. You flail, little foot coming up to stub your toes against his stomach plate, bum scooting precariously over the edge of the stool. He reaches for you on instinct, his hand cupping the curve of your bottom to keep you seated, shit, hold on, stop, he grunts, but when you shove him away, loud slap of your palm against the curve of his helmet, he loses his balance, momentum taking the both of you toppling, unintentionally taking you with him. He falls splayed on his back, helmet dinging hollowly where his head knocks against the steel floor with a tangled mass of soft limbs and too long hair and lush tits sprawling over him. You wriggle and flail, an indignant squeak of his name, and then you go tense realizing all the places the two of you are suddenly pressed together. He feels a shudder of painful terror lock your limbs into shivers, the trembling hitch of your chest, and he holds frozen still, waiting for you to make the first move. But Maker, the feel of your weight on top of him. He widens the stance of his legs, slowly brings a knee up, trying to keep the heft of you away from his cock. He dips his chin to watch your face, eyes wide, frantically swinging across his chest, to his hands held up in surrender at your shoulders level, up to the face of his helmet. 

You’re full of unsure fear and desire, yes, he can see it just there in the farthest glimmer of your eyes, the one like a scream, bright and hungry. Your brows fold together, confused, a frustrated noise slipping off your tongue before you give one more tense, strained jerk, and then seem to suddenly lose the fight and entirely melt into him. Your temple landing with a soft thump on his chest plate, arms wilting from their tensely held position over the outsides of his arms. Just a melted little thing of a girl, finally letting go of all that anxious strain you’ve held yourself in for two long years. 

Din dares not move, not even breathe. He holds so still for so long he’s able to watch the change in the cadence of your breathing, the rickety little patter of nerves into slow and deep sighs, all relaxation and trust. And the bright light-like realization dawns on him while he lays beneath you, feels your chest press into his, the fire of your heart seeming to melt through beskar, the two of you know each other too well, too intimately. The two of you love each other, and he wants to live in it and experience it so badly. He wants to rush madly through the whole thing of it, live the rest of your lives together fast and in the blink of an eye first, and then be able to go back and do it all again slow and precise, taking each lived detail in his hand and learning the shape of it entirely before he’s able to move on to the next moment. He wants it all, the whole of a life with you.

So he doesn’t touch you, but the two of you lay like that, pressed against each other for hours, and the moment is enough. 

Days later, he asks because he cannot help himself, because if you have to bear the truth of it all, he will too: “Why did you do it all?” And he doesn’t know precisely what the root of the question is.

Why did you leave me?

Why did you stay gone so long?

Why did you hurt yourself as you did?

You don’t answer immediately, and he wonders if he’s stepped where he shouldn’t have, pushed too far too soon, but then your face goes smooth and serene. Honest. “I didn’t think it would happen as it did. I thought I’d see you again, I thought it would all be sooner. I didn't think I’d be gone,” gone, “for so long. I thought I’d get a chance to make up for my mistakes with you.” 

You sit in the co-pilot's chair, slightly behind him, and he doesn’t turn to look back at you, but he can see your reflection in the gleaming curve of the front of the cockpit, the rush of hyperspace zinging around the two of you, it’s quiet and thrumming and he can hear the soft cadence of your breathing. Your tunic is high necked, sitting just below the soft point of your little chin, every square inch of you wrapped away and sealed tightly in dark fabric, little pearlescent buttons that gleam blue crawl up to your throat and seem to strangle you. It’s as if you’d donned your own suit of armor, and he can’t understand how you still look so fucking good after everything. But as if he could peel away the stitching of you to peer beneath, he sees all that is wrong, all that is missing and all that is still echoing hollow. He thinks if he could only fill you with himself, all of everything would be set to rights. 

You rest your head on the seat back, rolling it side to side slowly, thinking on what is is you’ll tell him next. “Because in ways, it felt good, better, than the alternative.”

“To be free?” 

“Yes.” And the truth of that sits heavy and cloying between the two of you. An animal, hurt, will return to what it knows, no matter how badly it’s treated. It’s in its nature to seek out its familiar habitat. “Because I saw no other recourse, nothing better for me to do. Because I was stupid. Because I wanted to see how long I could last.”

He bites the inside of his cheek until he tastes blood, thick and metallic rolling over his tongue. “I don’t want to be selfish. I’ve been trying to– to not be that, to not make this about me.”

“It is about you.” Maker.

And he still doesn’t turn, says through his honest shame: “But I have to tell you that I don’t know how I can live with this, knowing this. I feel like– like I… I don’t know. I feel like if I go to sleep tonight knowing this, I won’t wake up tomorrow. Like it’ll crawl up my throat and strangle me in my sleep. And it shouldn’t– it shouldn’t be about me.”

“It’s not selfish, Din. It is about you,” you say again, and he wonders if your intention is to hurt him or yourself. More of that painful honesty like a blade through a lung. 

He finally turns in his seat. “The way you live is the way I live. Do you understand me? The way you live is the way I live and your breath is mine and your hurt is mine.”

Your eyes are heavy lidded, watching him through the thick screen of your dark lashes, one eye seems to glow, the other to swallow him. “That’s why I know it’s about you too now. It started with nothing, with stupidity, and a wanton desire for– I don’t know, for destruction or something. But it ended with the realization that I’d have to tell you of all this one day. That it would be yours too eventually. And I regret it bitterly for that.”

“How am I supposed to move past this? What– what am I supposed to do with it?” He worries he sounds very like a child asking, but he has to anyway. 

You shut your eyes, going so still, made of adamant  and glass and smoke. He knows a thing like you could do nothing but survive, but at the same time, it seems a miracle you did. That you let yourself. He tracks the slope of your nose, the lush of your mouth, dry, you won’t drink enough water and it pisses him off, little chin and delicate throat, all that hair, the round of your breasts and the dip of your waist. Those little blue glowing pearl-for-buttons. He wants to steal them and swallow them away. 

“Do you think,” you start, eyes still closed, face still calm. He leans forward, elbow braced against wide spread knees, and watches closely at the way your mouth forms the shapes of your words. “Do you think that– I don’t know how to say it, I think… but do you think it’s wrong to ask someone you love to just let a thing go? As much as it might’ve hurt them or bothered them or– or I don’t know… ruined everything. But to just ask them, for your sake, to let it go? Forget. Do you think that’s wrong?” Your eyes open. “Or selfish?”

“Is that what you want from me, cyar’ika?”

“I don’t know. But I don’t want to be selfish with you.”

“Neither do I. You said before that you don’t want me to forgive you. You don’t want forgiveness, you want forget.”

“Yes.”

He nods once. “And I have nothing to forgive you for, and asking me for the things you need is never selfish.”

And you say again, once more like before with your face still calm, “You want to touch me.”

If he were a beast made only of flesh and bone and not a man he would snap his teeth. “Yes.”

You stand slowly, hair a cloak around your shoulders, and step to him, between his wide spread thighs. He should beg, but he only stays frozen, and you bring your hand up to the face of his helmet, palm splaying along the side, he wishes you’d rip the thing off of him. He wishes he had never taken a Creed at all. Your palm on his face would fix everything, like him filling the hollow place within you. It would all be well if only the two of you could come together. Din knows it. 

You lower yourself to perch primly on one thigh, slow like thaw, bringing your knees up to curl into his chest, little socked toes braced against beskar. One hand smoothing up his stomach and chest plate, other curled over the pauldron of his shoulder, you reach the lip of the helmet, close your eyes, and start to lift the weight of it from his face. 

“I’m not going to open my eyes. I’m not going to look.” 

The rush of hyperspace reflects off your skin in silvers and blues, makes you more dream than girl, and then his face is uncovered, and he listens to the symbol of who he is supposed to be, who he has been all his life, roll from your fingers discarded on the ground, the loud clang of history ringing in his ears, but all he cares about is, “You kept them.” He brushes a thumb, careful of your skin, against the glowing gem of your earring. The way it twinkles and sparks and exists as a monument to your shared history. 

“Something shiny to remind me of my shiny.” A tear slides slow and clear down the slope of your cheek, coming to rest at the corner of your mouth, and he watches it quiver and shake there in anticipation, much like his heart does within his chest. You take his face between your hands, animal sound from his tongue, one hand at the curve of his jaw, cradling him like he’d be something precious and fragile if only the two of you let it be so. Not animal, not man, only loved.Your other hand spreads, glides and cups and soothes, his forehead, his brow, little fingertips pressed to the outside dip of his eye socket, running along the rim of bone beneath hot skin. He watches your face, the tear at the corner of your mouth, and you come towards him very slowly, the fold of your hips, stomach, breasts, and then your mouth on his.

And then your mouth on his. 

He takes the tear into his mouth, holds it on the surface of his tongue. He could swallow it like he would the pearls. This is enough. 

It’s soft as a whisper and then hard. Your nails digging suddenly, scratching and searching for a crack in his surface where you’d find purchase to pull him closer, burrow your way inside. You press your closed mouth hard against his, shoulders hitched high, and he grips the arms of his chair so hard his fingers ache. A sob in your throat that turns into a broken sort of moan, giving him permission to break too.

He circles your waist in his hands, takes hold of the shape of you, and it’s just like in his memories and dreams and nightmares. Hands sliding up the slope of your back through all of that glorious hair, still growing, right to the edge of your tunic covered nape. 

“Din.” He swallows the tear. He touches your skin. 

You moan for him, mouth shaky and wet, vibrating into him, the tip of your tongue tasting the edge of his lip, and then he’s swallowing you whole. Shifting you further onto himself, the soft round of your bottom over the thick of his lap, tits pressed against his chest, he needs to taste it all, your nails digging so hard into the skin of his face you’ll surely draw blood, and he will surely thank you for it. “Yes.” He says in return, finally, he draws onto your tongue. Full upper lip slotted between his, and it’s wet tongue and sharp teeth and a very dark place you should have never been, too much time wasted, a promise to forget because that’s what you need of him. 

He hitches you higher, tighter, forces himself not to take it further, press you too hard. Groans rough and ragged when you whine soft and small. Sucking on your tongue, tugging at your lip. And your hands move to his hair, little fingers wrapped in his curls, dragging down the front of his face, over his eyes and nose, finding the seam of a scar there. “What’s this?” You follow the faultline of old hurt, and he grips your wrist, directs your hand to the other, thicker weave of scar tissue along the back curve of his skull, wanting to show you all the places he was broken that you were not there to mend. “Din,” on a frightened little gasp he soothes away with his tongue along the back of your teeth and the drag of his palm down the slope of your spine, stopping just shy of the curve of your ass. 

“Explosion.”

 Din, again, Din. You press your fingers along the rough knit flesh, and he feels your tears slide along his own cheek and perch at the corner of his own mouth now. 

“It’s okay, little love. I’m here with you.” Tugs you back close and safe and tightly pressed, seam of him woven into the seam of you, mouth to mouth. 

“And I understand.” He cups the back of your head, pulls you back, opens you and tastes and tastes and tastes. “I’ll promise to let it go. But you have to promise too.” Changes the angle, the flavor of you still the same, the sound of you still the same, the feel. “That you’ll never do it again.”

“I promise, Din.” It’s enough.

Chapter XII

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

#TCC fic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #the mandalorian angst #din djarin angst #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #vic fic

[jedimandalorian]

Ahsoka- Notes on Episode 4 “Fallen Jedi” and Kiner’s score

The episode begins in the forest on Seatos. Ahsoka’s theme is heard when she tries to convince Sabine to agree with her regarding the map. When Ahsoka mentions Thrawn’s return as “heir to the empire” there is a brief quotation of Thrawn’s theme inserted into the ongoing presentation of Ahsoka’s theme.

When Shin tells Baylan Skoll and Morgan Elsbeth they found Ahsoka. Baylan sends Shin, Marrok and the guards after Ahsoka and her crew. Morgan asks Baylan if he is afraid. Ambient sounds, including the sound of the ocean and sounds that suggest the presence of the purrgil are heard along with the primarily percussive score.

More ambient sounds are heard during the Ahsoka title card & “Part Four: Fallen Jedi.”

Huyang continues repairs. Sabine, in her Mandalorian armor searches frantically for something in her bag. Ahsoka tells her “I know how much Ezra means to you. Sometimes we have to do what’s right regardless of our personal feelings.” Sabine is visibly conflicted.

While making repairs to the ship, Huyang is attacked by an assassin droid and defends himself. Sabine and Ahsoka engage in battle with the attacking guards and assassin droid.

The music here is primarily quick staccato chords. When Huyang tells Ahsoka and Sabine to stay together we hear the introduction of “Sabine’s Suite” from the Star Wars Rebels soundtrack, which you can listen to here:

https://youtu.be/uu4Ic5c1hMo?si=QrRKHf8LPIxgansS

A repeated eighth note motif accompanies a hopeful sounding variant of the “ronin theme” from the beginning of the Ahsoka end credits music as they run through the forest towards the henge.

Segue to Home One and the New Republic fleet. Hera leaves without authorization. The music is a little militaristic, but mostly playful and slightly comedic. As Hera soars away with Jacen and Chopper onboard the Ghost, she’s joined by a small group of X-Wing pilots. The music builds, swelling into a presentation of Hera’s theme, which is heard during her conversation with Carson Teva. They make the jump to hyperspace.

Back on Seatos, the sounds of the ocean waves and wind are heard along with the score, creating a dark and mysterious mood as Morgan and Baylan discuss the hyperspace jump. She tells him to have faith and Baylan says he lost his faith years ago. Morgan uses her Nightsister witchcraft to open the map, aiding the droids onboard the Eye of Sion in calculating the hyperspace coordinates.

Ahsoka and Sabine run through the woods until they encounter Marrok and Shin.

The Sabine vs. Shin and Ahsoka vs. Marrok fight scenes are accompanied by intense strings, brass and often percussive incidental music.

Ahsoka kills Marrok and Shin is angered. Ahsoka runs to get the map while Sabine’s duel with Shin continues.

Morgan leaves to board the Eye of Sion, but Baylan stays to protect the map. Ahsoka arrives at the henge.

Baylan claims that Anakin spoke highly of Ahsoka, but Ahsoka responds that Anakin never mentioned him. Baylan appears to be reading Ahsoka’s thoughts and emotions, attempting to use her guilt regarding Anakin’s fall to the dark side as a weapon against her. The sounds of the wind and waves are heard under the dialogue. “One must destroy in order to create,” Baylan says, claiming he won’t start another war but Thrawn will. Lightsabers are drawn. The score resumes, intensifying with the duel as it becomes more violent.

A droid aboard the Eye of Sion reports that they will be ready to make the hyperspace jump in moments.

Ahsoka’s theme is heard before Baylan hurls a stone at her.

Sabine’s lightsaber duel with Shin continues. In the foreground Sabine’s helmet lies upon the forest floor and is the camera’s main focus, reminding the viewers of her Mandalorian heritage. Sabine is disarmed by Shin and when she gestures a Force push, nothing happens, leading Shin to conclude that Sabine has no power. Sabine disarms Shin with a rocket dart from her vambrace.

Ahsoka is finally able to reach the star-map but it burns her hand when she grabs it. Ahsoka cries out in pain and drops the map.

Meanwhile, Shin uses a smoke grenade to escape from Sabine, who reclaims Ezra’s green lightsaber.

The droid reports to Morgan that their final calculation is incomplete.

Ahsoka fights one-handed until Shin arrives and Ahsoka assumes that Sabine is dead. Enraged, she hurls Shin against one of the stones of the henge. “It didn’t need to come to this, but you know no other way,” Baylan says as he fights Ahsoka to the edge of the cliff above the churning waters.

Sabine arrives. Ahsoka tells her to destroy the map. “Step away from her!” Sabine shouts while pointing her blaster at the map. The music crescendos as Baylan makes a final strike at Ahsoka’s blade, one which hurls her over the cliff, presumably to her death.

Baylan deflects Sabine’s blaster bolts with his saber. She points her pistol at the map once more and Baylan pauses, probing Sabine’s thoughts and emotions. “I know you feel that Ezra Bridger is the only family you have left,” he says while deactivating his lightsaber. He reveals the bombshell that Sabine’s family died on Mandalore because Ahsoka didn’t trust her. Baylan claims that Sabine wants to be reunited with her “long-lost friend” and that he wants to “serve a greater good.” He says that if she comes along with him willingly no harm will come to her. “Sabine, you will be reunited with your friend,” he insists.

Sabine hesitates before handing Baylan the map. “It’s the only way. Do it, for Ezra.” After handing over the map, Sabine struggles to breathe as Shin begins to Force choke her.

Baylan stops Shin, claiming that he will keep his word that Sabine will not be harmed. Baylan returns the map to its former position and the final jump coordinates are calculated. Morgan sends a shuttle to retrieve Baylan and the others.

While repairing Ahsoka’s ship, Huyang receives a transmission from Hera.

The music churns and intensifies as Baylan destroys the map with his lightsaber. “No one will be following us,” he says as Sabine, now a prisoner is pushed forward by Shin to the shuttle.

Hera and Phoenix Squadron prepare to engage the enemy accompanied by short, syncopated chords. The shuttle reaches the Eye. Morgan Elsbeth’s Theme can be heard when Baylan and Shin enter the bridge with Sabine as their prisoner.

[Voltar on YouTube has musical examples of Morgan’s theme and other new musical themes from Ahsoka that you can listen to in this video.]

https://youtu.be/Vo5TmO6s620?si=htUFKJsAxPhjHw9T

Morgan ignores Phoenix Squadron’s attack and jumps to hyperspace. Three X-Wings are destroyed. Jacen tells his mother he has a bad feeling.

Ambient sounds of Seatos and music befitting an aerial view of the sea accompany a beautiful transition to Ahsoka waking up in the World Between Worlds where she hears a voice calling her by her old nickname “Snips.” She is greeted by Anakin Skywalker, but the music tells us that all is not as it seems. The final notes of Darth Vader’s Theme (The Imperial March by John Williams) lead into the closing credits music, which begins with the now-familiar presentation of Kiner’s “ronin” theme, a viola and cello duet with pavane-like rhythmic accompaniment. This accompaniment continues during Sabine’s Theme, and is suggestive of both a Renaissance dance and the clash of wooden practice sabers. The hopeful-sounding ostinato that I associate with Sabine’s search for Ezra Bridger plays along the “path to Peridea” portion of the journey across the star-map. The ostinato continues, accompanying an augmented version Ahsoka’s Theme, an elongated but familiar melody. A triumphant presentation of Ahsoka’s Theme plays as all of the golden lines meet at Peridea. Hera’s Theme, featuring the French horns, strings, and trumpets plays as the credits continue agsinst the black background, followed by the final reprise of Ahsoka’s theme.

This is the first episode of Ahsoka in which Ezra’s Theme is not heard even though he is mentioned quite a bit. Something tells me we should listen for it in the final episodes of the series, especially when Sabine and Ezra are finally reunited.

#sabine wren #ezra bridger #star wars #ahsoka series #sabezra #star wars rebels #ezrabine #ahsoka tano #hera syndulla #kevin kiner #baylan skoll #shin hati #youtube #huyang #morgan elsbeth #jacen syndulla #star wars music #ahsoka show

[enatchios]

playlist masterlist:

if there is a serpent in our garden - inspired by the fall of x, gillen and werneck’s immortal x-men, and a funk-filled apocalypse

in the form, if not the flesh - inspired by claremont and simonson’s inferno, zeb well’s hellions, and madelyne pryor’s fall and rise

all we have left is threats - inspired by bendis’s uncanny x-men run and scott summer’s mutant freedom fighter era

though not one easily answered - inspired by mystique’s solo run and kieron gillen and lucas werneck’s immortal x-men

she’s someplace cold - inspired by netflix’s daredevil, the solo elektra run, and liu’s black widow: name of the rose

miles morales’ swinging playlist - inspired by itsv, every miles morales run, and growing up afrolatino in nyc

died on the job - inspired by future state: gotham and the under the red hood film

nothing can be done to change it - inspired by stover’s revenge of the sith novelization and the fall of the galactic republic

apathy is death - inspired by kotor i and kotor ii and the tragic nature of revan and the exile

traitor, idiot, count - inspired by cavan scott’s dooku: jedi lost and stover’s revenge of the sith novelization

i’m the only child you’ll ever need. you can kill the others. - inspired by hbo’s succession with an anne carson influence

new york is dead - inspired by hbo and bbc’s industry and the general misery of harper stern

🪆- inspired by netflix’s russian doll

i hope evil takes mastercard - inspired by buffy the vampire slayer and faith lehane’s hypothetical mixtape

casa de mi tia - songs that play in my central american aunts’ apartments

manic black girls rejoice - songs for the black girls that blast azealia banks and look up to octavia st. laurent and monet de haan

we look damn good - a possible heist story, think ocean’s 8, portrait of a thief, etc.

you’re morbid, you’ve taken away my appetite - a possible short story, think anne carson’s elektra, daughters of the dust, black girls and their mothers, etc. (falls under 001 on the pinterest board)

start a war, just for the feeling - a possible vampire story, think pledge, selah and the spades, an all-black buffy the vampire slayer, etc. (falls under 002 on the pinterest board)

sharpening my oyster knife - a possible story of a prophet, think the myth of cassandra, this is how you lose the time war, etc. (falls under 003 on the pinterest board)

and then there was doom - a possible post-apocalypse world were the radio only plays hip-hop

inspired by @fluoresensitive stunning playlists and tag system

aforementioned pinterest that accompanies the playlists can be found here

#web weaving #spotify #playlists #photo/vid/gif #comics #xmen #marvel #starwars #sw #industry #succession #anne carson #short stories #pls lmk if any of the links are dead #btvs #kotor #russian doll #electra #orestia

[haradasaya]

"I'll take care of you." "It's dreadful work." "Not to me, not if it's you." -quote from Anne Carson, Euripides

Wow, Saya writing for a different fandom? What is happening to her? This comes from Good Boy Audios on YouTube, from his Bastard Warrior Series, which is literally so so so good. It is M4F, just keep that in mind, though not everything is. He has a very good series as well that is M4A, check that out too if you want!

Albus York x Faithful

cw: Faithful uses she/her pronouns, and her real name is Faith, mentioned once near the end.

Lots of fluff, Albus mentions briefly that he's got some trauma, but he doesn't go into it in detail. Let me know if there are more that I should note, pls and thx :)

Faithful stood on the deck of the ship, staring up at the dark sky above her. Albus had said she’d miss the stars, but it wasn’t until now, under the murky sky of the mantle, that she understood what he’d meant. The horizon of distant, glowing light stared back at her like it saw all her secrets, as if it could reach inside her chest and pull the words from the darkest parts of her heart. Maybe she could pretend there were stars in the sky—maybe that would help the swirling she felt inside. They’d barely caught respite since leaving the Wall of Dawn, having barely a moment of silence on the ship. Between Devlin being possessed and Albus recovering from firing himself out of that cannon, and then being drugged to the point of paralysis, she always had something to deal with, help take care of, or handle. And though she was more than happy to help her friends with their problems, it was the quiet moments like this that made her miss the quiet of the church.

Faithful didn’t miss the church, don’t misunderstand. Perhaps it was only in this moment that she craved that silence—now, when things were crazier than ever, and would only continue to get crazier the further towards the core they traveled.

Against the hull of the ship below, the waves below thrummed rhythmically – like a soft lullaby, rocking her softly in and out of her thoughts. What would their future hold? Would their mission fail, or would they beat the odds and succeed? Would she really be able to get off world once all this was done? Did she even want to anymore? What would she be leaving behind if she did? Her head swirled with thoughts that conflicted in every way she could imagine, spiraling her head and heart until it was one lump sum of scenarios that gave her a migraine. 

Maybe that’s why she didn’t realize someone was beside her until he spoke up.

“Missing the stars, Faithful?” Albus said, eyes up at the sky.

Faithful turned to him instantly, taken back by his sudden presence, and even more so by the fact that he wasn’t looking at her. It was almost like he was imagining the stars too, then.

“You frightened me.” She said softly, hand over her heart. He still didn’t look at her, so she turned her attention back to the sky.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.” Faithful snuck a glance over, but he remained focused on the sky. “You were just so caught up in looking up, figured I’d come see what it was all about.”

She turned back and faced the rail where they stood, shoulders almost touching, but not quite. It had been a few days since his intoxicated confession, though he didn’t remember what he’d said to her. The secret she now carried, of knowing both her shipmates thought about her in that way, was another swirling thought in the mass of her brain. Sometimes she wished she’d never heard him say what he said, (or what Kravitas had said either), but other times… when she was beside him like this, when they could sit in silence for a moment and just enjoy each other’s company. He was, well…

Likable.

“Not much to look at, I’m afraid. You were right when you told me there were no stars here.” She smiled softly, and then added, “Hadn’t wanted to believe you then. But, you know.”

Albus finally turned his gaze to the sister. “I wish I hadn’t been either. But yeah, I get what you mean.”

Faithful was too afraid to turn her face to meet his gaze. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to keep her face a normal color if she did look, and so she continued to keep her eyes towards the sky. The swirling in her mind didn’t stop; but it did slow a little, right here next to Albus, listening to the lull of the waves below, his warmth so close to her skin. She could almost fall asleep right there next to him, if she gave in to the feelings she had in her heart.

After a moment, Albus turned back to the distance, having not caught the sight of the sister. They stayed like that for a while, almost shoulder to shoulder, on the edge of the ship that carried them towards their fates.

“So what are you doing—”

“What are your plans for—”

The two finally made eye contact, before looking away quickly, as if ashamed to have talked over the other. Albus reached for his neck, while Faithful picked at the hem of her sleeve, waiting for the other to speak.

“Go ahead.” Albus finally said, reaching back towards the rail, glancing at her again, but returning his gaze towards the horizon where it had previously been. 

Faithful smiled quickly again, trying not to let him see the blush on her cheeks. “I was just going to ask what you were doing out here. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

She meant that in more ways than one: he still needed rest from being attacked by Kravitas—and despite his complaining that “he could sleep when he was dead,” Faithful wanted him to get some restful sleep for once. It didn’t seem like he often had a secure place to sleep at night, and for once, she wanted him to have that, knowing he’d be watched over and safe through the night.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He answered simply, and Faithful huffed to herself. Well, so much for wanting a good night’s rest for him.

“You don’t have to guard the ship twenty four/seven you know. We can take turns.”

Albus chuckled then, a deep and hearty sound that quelled the swirling a bit more. “Yeah, well. After what happened to me last time I was asleep, I think I’m gonna need some time before I start trusting my surroundings again.”

Faithful understood that. Her journey had been one surprise after another. That was, after all, sort of the same thing keeping her up right now too. “Are you saying you don’t trust me?” She teased.

Albus turned, and caught her eyes, holding the look for longer now. 

Albus huffed, this one more of a chuckle. “Oh please, you? Faithful, I couldn’t trust you as far as I could throw you. And that’s pretty far—Ow! Hey, stop that!”

Faithful punched him in the arm, getting him twice in the same spot for good measure. 

“All right, all right, I concede.” He teased back, rubbing the spot on her shoulder where she’d hit him. “Jesus woman, you know how to throw a punch. Who taught you how to do that?”

She smiled, but shook her head at the same time. “Some bastard I hired to do a job for me.”

Albus didn’t know what to say to that, so he chuckled under his breath, straightening out his posture and rubbing away the pain in his arm. “Just some bastard, huh? Well damn, tell the guy how you really feel, eh?”

Faithful’s eyes widened at his joke, not that he saw it, before she turned a bright shade of pink. She turned her face back towards the sky, hoping he didn’t see just how red she was. It was pretty dark out here after all, maybe she’d get lucky. Thank the stars, it didn’t seem that he did, only turning back out to match her. It was funny how they could do that: go from teasing and getting along so well to absolute silence in a matter of seconds. It didn’t seem awkward—at least, not to her—though she didn’t know if Albus felt the same. She hoped he did. He was easy to get along with.

Well, when he wasn’t an unbearable walking innuendo.

“Anyway, I didn’t mean to disturb your show, I’ll leave you to it.”

He turned, like he was going to walk away, but Faithful spoke up before he could take another step. “Wait!”

Albus, curiosity piqued, turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Yes?”

She paused, surprised at herself for having spoken up when she did. “You never finished what you had started to say earlier. Were you going to ask something?”

Albus stayed quiet for a moment, not moving, not answering. Faithful was afraid she’d said something insensitive again, though they didn’t know what.

“First of all, Faithful, I always finish, don’t start thinking that I don’t.”

She exhaled, a light laugh behind it, and shook her head at what he was implying, tilting her head a bit in the hopes of seeing his expression in the dim light of the ship. She couldn’t make out much, but she noted a pinched brow, and a tight jaw. Was he upset at her?

“Albus, I—”

“I’m sorry that I shoved you.” He said suddenly.

She blinked. Okay… that’s not what she expected him to say.

“There’s a part of my past that… I don’t talk about much. To anyone.” He cleared his throat. He still hadn’t turned around, but he was saying most of this over his shoulder, like he wanted her to hear. It felt like sharing a secret, like she was finally seeing into the man she’d been around for so long. She silently urged him to go on, hoping to learn more about him, even if it was something he rather wouldn’t talk about. Knowing more about the hidden sides of Albus York felt like knowing hidden secrets of the world.

“I still can’t talk about a lot of it. Can’t even think about a lot of it, really, but… with you, I—”

He stopped there, as if he was going to say more but unknowing of how to say it. Faithful lifted her arm out, like she was going to touch him, but hesitated, afraid of spooking him away, or worse.

“When I’m with you, I feel like I can finally breathe. Like all that shit inside me has a way to get out, like you opened up a vent or something.”

Faithful dropped her hand, content to just listen to him.

“That doesn’t mean I can talk about it, still. That will take a lifetime to get out, maybe more, but… I don’t know…”

He shifted his foot, and turned to look at her. “It wasn’t personal, okay? The shove, the attitude, the distance. It wasn’t because I was upset at you. Please don’t think that it was.”

She wasn’t sure what to say—if anything should be said at all. Albus didn’t apologize for who he was, he never had, and he said he never would. But here he was, apologizing all the same. Was it possible that she had the same effect on him and he did on her? The uncanny ability to calm the swirling of her thoughts? Perhaps, for Albus, it was the quelling of his heart? The one he kept locked away and guarded always, the one no one actually got to see. 

Maybe they were getting to see a bit of it now. It was captivating, despite the pain he was feeling. He’d likely pretend that none of this happened tomorrow: probably bring his guard back up, reinforce his walls, and act like he hadn’t bared his chest for her to see in this moment. But none of that mattered to her then. It was the intimacy of the moment that kept her there, rooted in place as Albus stared back at her, eyes burning into her soul, and hers into his.

“I’d started to ask you what your plans were after all this was over. After we’d saved the kid, and stopped your brother. But I’m not sure I’m ready for that answer yet, so… for now, I’ll stick with apologizing, and repairing that bridge with you that I almost completely destroyed.”

A sort of soft silence stretched between them, filling the space in a way only silence could. She was grateful for that, and for his words.

“Thank you.” She finally said, remembering to blink and to breathe again. “Thank you for apologizing, and thank you for opening up to me. I know how difficult that can be. So, thank you, Albus.”

The man before her turned to face her fully, now standing almost chest to chest, looking down at her. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a moment, she thought he might kiss her. Weirder still, she almost wanted him to.

But when he didn’t, moving to walk away, she pulled him into an embrace instead. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling the scent of him, while he stood there, arms wide around her, unsure what to do. The embrace had caught him off guard, first of all, and second, he didn’t really know why she was doing it. In his eyes, he hadn’t done anything to elicit a hug from her.

Eventually, his arms and hands wrapped around her body, and he hugged her back. Faithful smiled into his chest, grateful that he returned the gesture. She didn’t want to let him go, and it didn’t seem like he did either. They stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the storm inside the both of them quell in the presence of the other, until the faintest bits of light began peeking over the horizon—the first signs of dawn. 

“Well Faithful, it’s getting pretty early, we probably should try to get at least a bit of sleep before Vinny tries to force us into Forgemaster training 101.”

Faithful chuckled at that, finally releasing her grip on his body. He let her go too, but neither missed the way their fingers trailed along the skin of the other, as if begging not to separate, to not let go. Albus cleared his throat, and stepped away, and Faithful did the same, straightening out her gown, and heading in. He followed shortly after her, trailing her until they got to their respective rooms, standing at the doorway to each. Albus watched Faithful open the door to her room, and she watched him stand in the doorway of his, neither fully crossing the threshold, as if this spell they were under would be cut off if they did.

Faithful finally spoke up. “Thank you for accompanying me tonight. I feel much more at ease now, knowing I had someone to share the night with.”

Albus only nodded his head, agreeing with her. “Come on now, Faithful, don’t get too sappy on me. I might think you’re trying to get into my bed or something.”

Faithful shook her head, trying but ultimately failing to keep in her laughter. It was becoming more and more of a tempting offer. Albus took her head shake to be the end, moving further into his room. “Goodnight, Faith. Sleep well.”

She nodded. “Goodnight, Albus.” And just like that, the spell was broken.

But the magic remained. Something was there that hadn’t been before. And as both leaned against the door to their rooms, silently longing to be with the other again, they felt it in the air. That conversation was long from over, and their relationship was too. Faithful smiled, falling onto her bed, sliding slowly under the covers, and flicking off the light.

Albus was in love with her. And maybe, just maybe… she was in love with him too.

#Good Boy Audios #gba fanfic #gba albus #gba faithful #gba albus x faithful #gendered listener #fem listener/reader #i'm so bad at making tags someone help me

[muldxr]

2023 Fic Masterpost

18 fics, 36k words, 10 fandoms. all of the fics i wrote during the year are linked under the cut to read and re-read!

honorable mentions ↓ most kudos: la petit mort most comments: for your eyes only author’s favorite: choke

📍 for your eyes only (9.3k, M, James Bond and 1D fusion. main fic post)

While on a dangerous mission, 007 reunites with an old flame.

📍 weak hands, sore feet (1.5k, T, hockey rpf)

Sore from a Game 7 loss, Carson and Will decide to shave their playoff beards together.

📍 collide (1.1k, T, ER 1994)

The IV - her first real IV - is almost in the patient's limp arm. Lucy stills her nervous hand to guide the needle in further towards the correct vein, notes the dip in the arm as she attempts to break it past the first layer of skin. It slips out, goes to the right.

📍 man down (777, M, 9-1-1)

Buck didn't see it coming.

He didn't see the cracks in the beams. Didn't use caution in where he stepped, didn't run away fast enough when the freeway came crumbling down and took him with it.

📍 pawns (1.7k, T, the x files)

“Decided to show up late this time, huh?” Mulder asks the man, bristling as he shoves his hands into his coat pockets.

📍 rescue me (3.1k, M, ER 1994)

A five-car pileup in the middle of winter means that County General is at capacity. A short-staffed hospital means that Kerry Weaver isn’t having a good day.

📍 outlast (841, T, survivor)

The humidity on the Fiji island gets to you, and you can't sleep.

📍 let faith oust fact (1.2k, M, the x files)

Big Blue attacks their boat. Instead of finding a rock, the agents nearly drown.

📍 sanguis (1k, M, buffy the vampire slayer)

Gasping, Buffy spins around quickly, raising her stake, and she doesn't even move an inch when the stake meets an undead body, too close to her.

📍 headlights on dark roads (3.4k, M, the west wing)

"You didn't save me a seat? Come on," she whines, hanging on the frame of the car as her shoulders slump, growing desperate to get away from Danny's curiosity.

Toby says, "Sorry. All full."

📍 dearly departed (1.7k, M, the leftovers)

Not too long after Laurie joins the Remnant, she shows up at Kevin's house.

📍 midnight oil (2.3k, T, west wing)

Donna's eyes traveled down to her hands, holding a steaming mug with the presidential seal on it. It was one of Josh's favorites despite it being widely available at the White House gift shop. "I was making you coffee." She squinted at him, speaking slowly. "You know, like you asked me to do five minutes ago. By the way, our coffeepot is a pain in the neck, and we really should-"

📍 choke (2.7k, E, shallow grave)

Juliet leaves Alex and David for dead. Little does she know...

📍 paper bag (1.1k, T, the x files)

Mulder and Scully travel for a case, and the airline loses Scully's bag.

📍 know your number (100, G, ER 1994)

Post-'Union Station,' Mark considers calling Susan.

📍 the oven was broken. (825, T, hrpf)

Matty and Will attempt to bake birthday cookies.

📍 la petit mort (1.6k, E, the x files)

Intimately aware of her mortality, she's asked you to prove your worth to her.

📍 the cold moon (1.3k, T, the x files)

Scully shifts when the moon is full, and Mulder follows. That's how it always is.

#my fic #multifandom fanfiction #half of these are already in the whumptober post but it feels right to put all the 2023 fics together 😇 #fic masterpost #*

[beardedmrbean]

WASHINGTON (Reuters) -Muslim Americans and some Democratic Party activists say they will work to mobilize millions of Muslim voters to withhold donations and votes towards President Joe Biden's 2024 reelection unless he takes immediate steps to secure a Gaza ceasefire.

The National Muslim Democratic Council, which includes Democratic Party leaders from hotly contested states likely to decide the election, such as Michigan, Ohio and Pennsylvania, called on Biden to use his influence with Israel to broker a ceasefire by 5 p.m. ET (2100 GMT) on Tuesday.

In an open letter entitled "2023 Ceasefire Ultimatum," the Muslim leaders pledged to mobilize Muslim voters to "withhold endorsement, support, or votes for any candidate who endorses the Israeli offensive against the Palestinian people."

"Your administration's unconditional support, encompassing funding and armaments, has played a significant role in perpetuating the violence that is causing civilian casualties and has eroded trust in voters who previously put their faith in you," the council wrote.

Former U.S. Representative Keith Ellison, Minnesota's attorney general and the first Muslim elected to Congress, and Representative Andre Carson of Indiana are the organization's founding co-chairs.

The letter is the latest sign of growing anger and frustration in Arab and Muslim American communities about Biden's failure to condemn Israel's attacks on the Gaza Strip after an Oct. 7 attack by Hamas militants from Gaza that Israeli officials say killed 1,400 people and took 239 hostages.

Medical authorities in Gaza on Monday said 8,306 people, including 3,457 children, had been killed in Israel's three-week-old air and ground onslaught.

Israel Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu said on Monday he would not agree to any cessation of the attacks on Gaza. U.S. national security spokesman John Kirby said, "Hamas is the only one that would gain from that right now."

Representative Rashida Tlaib, a Palestinian American lawmaker from Michigan, on Monday released a 90-second video on X, the social media site formerly known as Twitter, decrying Biden's support of what she called "Israel's genocidal campaign in Palestine," adding "Don't count on our vote in 2024."

Basim Elkarra, executive director of the Sacramento Valley Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR), said Muslim votes could be crucial for Biden in his 2024 bid for a second term, noting that Michigan's 16 electoral votes were won by a narrow margin of just 2.6% in 2020.

Muslim Americans in Minnesota, where Biden plans to visit on Wednesday, last week issued a similar ceasefire ultimatum, with a noon Tuesday deadline. They said they planned a protest on Wednesday when the president visits their state.

Biden's reelection campaign had no immediate comment.

Biden hosted a meeting last Thursday with a handful of Muslim leaders, a White House official said, adding that administration officials continue to meet with Arab and Muslim community members concerned by Biden's handling of the crisis.

Although a self-described Zionist president, Biden has appointed more Arab Americans and Muslims to political posts than any predecessor, as well as the first two Muslim federal judges.

Jaylani Hussein, executive director of CAIR in Minnesota, said Muslim American leaders in other contested states that are crucial to Biden's 2024 reelection will make similar demands.

"We expect Wisconsin, Ohio and other states to do the same this week," said Hussein.

Hussein said he had no option but to vote against Biden in 2024 unless he called for fighting to stop. He said he was speaking as an individual, not on behalf of CAIR.

Around 70% of Muslim Americans backed Biden in 2020, Hussein said.

Muslim American community leaders in Michigan, Ohio and Wisconsin did not immediately respond to requests for comment.

Ahmet Tekelioglu, executive director of CAIR in Philadelphia, said Muslim Americans in the state were calling for an immediate ceasefire but he was not aware of plans to set a deadline.

#nunyas news

[thediamondolls]

this list is ever changing, check back for updates!

TV Muses:

Heidi Barrie / Buffy the Vampire Slayer ( fc: shelley hennig )

Jo Harvelle / Supernatural ( fc: alona tal )

Ruby ( v. 1.0 ) / Supernatural ( fc: katie cassidy )

Saxa /  Spartacus ( fc: ellen hollman )

Santanico Pandemonium / From Dusk til Dawn ( fc: eiza gonzalez )

Vanessa Styles / From Dusk til Dawn ( fc: adrianne palicki )

Serena van der Woodsen / OG Gossip Girl ( fc: blake lively )

OC's:

Aoife / Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter ( fc: katherine mcnamara )

Ebony Sparda / Devil May Cry ( fc: emeraude toubia )

Eirny / X-Men ( fc: danielle rose russell )

Ekaterina Romanov / John Wick ( fc: megan fox )

Freki / Werewolf lore ( fc: katherine winnick )

Keres Angelos / AHS Coven ( fc: ryan ashley malarkey )

Laura Lawrence / Cobra Kai ( fc: jeanine mason )

Lilith / Biblical / Mythology Based ( fc: samantha robinson )

Mariella Salvatore / The Vampire Diaries / The Originals ( fc: giulia de lellis ) 

Remini : x5-404 / Dark Angel ( fc: lindsay morgan )

Video Games:

Faith Seen / Far Cry 5 ( fc: anya taylor joy )

Jill Valentine / Resident Evil ( fc: tbd )

Lilith the Siren / Borderlands ( fc: tbd )

Susie Jordan aka The Legion / Dead by Daylight ( fc: lights poxleitner )

Movies:

Amber Sweet / Repo! the genetic opera ( fc: ryan ashley malarkey )

Marnie Wallace / Repo! the genetic opera ( fc: emily blunt )

Delta / Jurassic World ( fc: adrianne palicki )

Fox Mask / You’re Next ( fc: jon bernthal )

Ginger Fitzgerald / Ginger Snaps ( fc: katherine isabel )

Holly Garling / PET ( fc: ksenia solo )

Jennifer Check / Jennifer’s Body ( fc: megan fox )

Kirby Reed / Scream 4 ( fc: hayden pantierre )

Tattoo / Moulin Rouge! ( fc: ryan ashley malarkey )

Tracy Bingham / All Cheerleaders Die ( fc: natalie alyn lind )

Comics:

America Chavez / Marvel ( fc: xochitl gomez )

Bobbi Morse / Marvel ( fc: blake lively )

Christine Palmer / Marvel ( fc: rachel mcadams )

Clint Barton / Marvel ( fc: aaron paul )

Dinah Lance / DC ( fc: katherine winnick )

Jessica Jones / Marvel ( fc: krystin ritter )

Natasha Romanov / Marvel ( fc: ana de armas )

Oliver Queen / DC ( fc: charlie hunnam )

Sersi / Marvel ( fc: gemma chan )

Tandy Bowen / Marvel ( fc: olivia holt )

Zatanna Zatara / DC ( fc: emeraude toubia )

Literature:

Cherry / Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter ( fc: brianne howey )

Corky Corcoran / Fear Street Cheerleaders ( fc: sabrina carpenter )

Itzpapalotl / Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter ( fc: becky g )

Jeyne Westerling / ASOIAF ( fc: lily james )

Rafael Espinoza / Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter ( fc: clayton cardenas )

Raina Wallis / Anita Blake: vampire hunter

Ridley Duchannes  / Caster Chronicles aka Beautiful Creatures ( fc: dove cameron )

Rosalie Hale / Twilight ( fc: sydney sweeney / anti smeyer )

Rosha Nelson / Fear Street: The Perfect Date ( fc: olivia holt )

Shiera Seastar / ASOIAF ( fc: tbh )

Sookie Stackhouse / Southern Vampire Mysteries aka True Blood ( fc: tbd )

Stormy Llewellyn / Odd Thomas ( fc: danielle campbell )

Vivian Gandillon / Blood and Chocolate ( fc: virginia gardner )

Request:

Churchill Creed / Pet Semetary ( fc: zane holtz )

Eventide Grimhilde / Grimm / descendants multi-fandom ( fc: sofia carson )

Fawkes / Harry Potter ( fc: ana de armas )

Hedwig / Harry Potter ( fc: diana agron )

Jane Foster / Marvel ( fc:  alicia vikander ) 

Sansa Stark / ASOIAF ( fc: sophie turner )

#siren's mobile muse list

[romancemedia]

Poor Faith. She was hoping Carson wouldn’t leave, but even after finding the ring... I guess Carson believed they just weren’t meant to be. 😔💔

#When Calls The Heart #Hallmark #My Thoughts #Faith x Carson #Carson Shepherd #Faith Carter #My Thoughts WCTH

[miss-ute]

                                                           💙💙

#for me #:) #when calls the heart #carson shepherd #paul greene #faith carter #andrea brooks #team infirmary #faith x carson #carson x faith

[whencallstheheart]

#When Calls the Heart #Clara Stanton #Jesse Flynn #Jesse x Clara #Carson Shepherd #Faith Carter #Carson x Faith #Fiona Miller #Mike Hickam #8x02: Honestly Elizabeth

[carebeark5]

Ok here are some ships that I really need fanfics for. Either there is none or not many.

Casey/Lauren (New Amsterdam)

Caro/Ashley (Nurses)

Bashir/Mags (Transplant)

Megan/Genesis (Mi Familia Perfecta)

Zachary/Dawn (Saving Hope)

Carson/Faith (When Calls the Heart)

When Hope Calls fanfic

Murphy/Max (In the Dark)

Remedy fanfic

#ctvtransplant #bashir and mags #ashley x caro #nurses #saving hope #zach and dawn #mi familia perfecta #megan x genesis #in the dark #murphy mason #murphy and max #carson and faith #when calls the heart #when hope calls #new amsterdam #lauren bloom #cabloom #remedy tv

[thehoax]

WELCOME TO THE WANTING. IT IS HEAVY HERE. (cc: @jonismitchell)

caption: The Wanting, @jonismitchell // Água Viva, Clarice Inspector // Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen // x // Imitation of Life (1959) // South London Forever, Florence and the Machine // Plainwater: Essays and Poetry, Anne Carson // All Too Well, Taylor Swift // New York Movie, Edward Hopper // Reading too much into a Tongue bite by Me // I want you to Love Me, Fiona Apple // IWYTLM genius annotation // Ada Limón on Preparing the Body for a Reopened World // The Unabridged journals of Sylvia Plath // He Held Radical Light: the Art of Faith, the Faith of Art, Christian Wiman // x // Hunger, Florence and the Machine // Eye Level: Poems, Jenny Xie // Big God, Florence and the Machine // Ada Limón // Emily Dickinson correspondences with Sue // Sharks in the River, Ada Limón // x // Nobody, Mitski // I will name this tragedy after you by Me // Litany in which certain things are crossed out, Richard Siken //

caption: The Wanting, @jonismitchell // Água Viva, Clarice Inspector // Sense and Sensibility, Jane Austen // x // Imitation of Life (1959) // South London Forever, Florence and the Machine // Plainwater: Essays and Poetry, Anne Carson // All Too Well, Taylor Swift // New York Movie, Edward Hopper // Reading too much into a Tongue bite by Me // I want you to Love Me, Fiona Apple // IWYTLM genius annotation // Ada Limón on Preparing the Body for a Reopened World // The Unabridged journals of Sylvia Plath // He Held Radical Light: the Art of Faith, the Faith of Art, Christian Wiman // x // Hunger, Florence and the Machine // Eye Level: Poems, Jenny Xie // Big God, Florence and the Machine // Ada Limón // Emily Dickinson correspondences with Sue // Sharks in the River, Ada Limón // x // Nobody, Mitski // I will name this tragedy after you by Me // Litany in which certain things are crossed out, Richard Siken //

#web weaving #parallels #literature #anne carson #ada limón #richard siken #clarice inspector #mitski #taylor swift #fiona apple #florence + the machine #poetry #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #emily dickinson #sylvia plath #edward hopper #art #dark academia

[intomusings]

﹒﹒   female   names   masterlist     !

in honor of my second milestone on here , i’ve decided to release a master list of 400+ female names i personally love and think could be used more in the community . this was also requested by a few anons and names will be added to the list frequently . the names are sorted by first letter but not alphabetically within each letter category . if you found this useful , feel free to like or reblog to spread this !

A : aurianna, addison, alannah, allegra, alina, alma, andra, avril, abella, arizona, annalise, amelia, aspen, alejandra, ayla, ales, alessia, anessa, asia, aline, adrienne, avery, armani, adaline, arden. 

B : blaire, brooke, brooklyn, bruna, bettina, bianca, becca, bella, bonnie, brielle, blake, bodhi, beverly, bambi, bronte, billie, briar, bria, birdie, brighton. 

C : catalina, cerise, celeste, celene, carson, camila, cecilia, callista, cadence, cassie, carmen, cali, charlie, camryn, camille, clara, claudete, chantel, chachi, capri, cove, chanel. 

D : diana, devi, dylan, daphne, dani, delphine, dahlia, delia, darcy, dawn, davina, dove, daisy, delaney, dua, darya, delilah, dixie, dior, dulce, dina, dayana. 

E : ember, eloisa, eleonora, emara, elena, esme, emery, emmeline, elsa, eva, evie, emmy, estelle, esther, evelyn, erin, eliana, everly, emerson, elle, ezra, eiza, eden. 

F : florence, franny, fiorella, faith, fiona, faye, farrah, freya, fern, flor, frankie. 

G : giulia, giulianna, georgia, ginny, grecia, giselle, genevieve, gabbie, grace, genie, gaia, giada, gemma, geles, genele, gia, gwendolyn, geneva, gracen. 

H : hazel, holland, helena, harlow, haven, hera, haley, houda, heidi, hana, harley, honey, hera. 

I : isobel, ivana, irma, irina, isadora, imogen, isla, ivy, inessa, ibiza, irelynn, iliana, ilana, indya. 

J : juliet, jayden, jordyn, jelena, jodie, jennie, jade, jesy, josie, june, jada, jemmye, jacey, janelle, juniper, jayla, jaliah, jewel, jane, johanna, jolie.

K : kendall, kensington, kennedy, katya, karlie, katerina, kailani, koral, kai, kaia, karma, kinsley, kylie, karina, korinna, karla, kemi, kate, kerigan, kali, kiyomi, kouvr. 

L : lourdes, leandra, london, lucia, luisa, logan, lena, leonora, larissa, lydia, lorelai, lylah, lettie, lottie, lalisa, luna, lara, lia, lorena, livia, layla, leighton, lyra, lola, lainey, laurel, luella, lumi. 

M : maricela, mariana, maeve, mabel, mila, marbella, maia, melody, mimi, monet, malauna, mira, mallory, millie, marla, mia, marvela, marni, madelaine, maleia, magnolia, maren. 

N : nilsa, nutsa, nini, naomi, noa, nevlyn, nathaly, nicolette, nadira, nicola, nova, nany, nala, niaye, nyla, noelle, nathalie, 

O : olympia, orianthi, octavia, opal, oriana, ophelia, orion, oakley, odessa, odette, odelia. 

P : paola, paris, peyton, phebe, priyanka, paislee, paloma, pandora, parvati, piper, perla, pearl, pia, priya, pilar, paxon. 

Q : quinn, quintessa. 

R : rowan, rylie, rosalie, roslyn, raquel, rose, reign, renata, raegan, reyna, ryann, raya, rhiannon, ria, rue, rhodes.

S : serena, serafina, sawyer, sylvie, sol, samira, sloane, silver, sutton, stella, saanvi, sab, seren, seven, sophia, star, skye, sabina, saskia, summer, stormy, salena, sage, sonny, solange, sahar, sumaya, shelby. 

T : tatum, tayler, tara, torre, tia, thea, tyra, truly, thalia, taryn, tampson, tayli, talya, teala, tala. 

U : uma. 

V : valencia, violetta, venus, verity, vanessa, venecia, vinnie, vida, vivienne, valentina, velora, vera, venice.

W : willow, winona, willa, wanda, witney, westlyn, windsor, wilhelmina, wren. 

X : ximena, xiomara, xashary, xena, xyla. 

Y : yovanna, yves, yara, yvette, yasmin, yesenia, yensi.

Z : zara, zion, zoe, zahara, zharia, zella, zendaya, zakiyah. 

#female name masterlist #rpc #rpt #rph #name masterlist #name help #m:masterlist

[galacticwildfire]

found.

Eighteen.

Pairing: Kenobi!oc x Din Djarin

Summary: Satine and Obi-wan’s daughter fought in the war against the Empire and lost her faith when she lost Mandalore. Until she found him. A lone Mandalorian searching for a Jedi.

Warnings: lots of threatening, her and Din have a moment. Character death. 

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Leia isn’t happy. Next chapter is nearly finished as well.

~

~

~

The journey to Chandrila is quiet, but thankfully faster in my ship and upon arrival I'm marching straight into a new battle.

Din and the child follow me to the government office where the Mon Mothma will be waiting for me. Citizens immediately step aside when they see me walk past with the Imperial assault rifle I took slung over my shoulder, and a Mandalorian warrior by my side.

"General Kenobi!" I hear reporters call out as I approach the building. "Are you here to see the Chancellor? Do you have any comments on the charges that have been dismissed?"

"That I have no regrets about delivering justice and I'd do it again," I reply to the shocked reporters as I walk through the entrance to the building and straight to the front desk.

The receptionist looks up and me, whispering a shocked exclamation underneath their breath, before they clear their throat. "General Kenobi, I- this is unexpected, are you here to visit Senator Organa?"

"I'm here to see the Chancellor," I say, knowing I'll pay Leia a visit afterwards, and upon their silence demand "Now."

They stammer "You could make an appointment."

I just let out a laugh, the anger that I've been harbouring since Carson told me she'd denied my request, since the first and last time they ignored my distress signal, beginning to boil over. "I'll see her now thank you."

"Of course General," they permit nervously and pick up the phone. "Could you inform the Chancellor that General Kenobi is on her way, yes she is on her way right now, with a Mandalorian and a child, I think. No I can't tell her to wait-"

Security doesn't dare to stop me as I walk past, Din and the child following, and we board the elevator to the Chancellors office.

"Will we have any trouble with security?" Din asks then clarifies. "Or will you make any?"

"I plan on seeing Leia afterwards so I'd like to see them try to kick me out of this building," I reply and pat the child on the back. "You excited to be in a big city?"

He makes an excited noise, still captivated by all the lights and noises and life of a city compared to the outer rims.

"You're about to meet the person in charge of the Republic," I tell the kid and he coos. "And I'm going to use very strong words with her, but even if she gets angry with me you can't choke her, do you understand?"

He sounds a little disappointed at that but agrees. Din actually seems nervous to be meeting the Chancellor, or rather in disbelief of this whole situation. "How is it I've been avoiding the law my entire life and now I'm meeting the Chancellor?"

"Because you found me," I say looking at him proudly, glad to have him by my side. "But I've got to warn you that her and I have some bad blood."

"Well after hearing you and Moff Gideon I've got an idea of what to expect," he says and I can hear the pride in his voice. "Just give me a heads up if we need to make a run for it."

"You know me too well," I say, us still trying to find that middle ground after all that had happened on Tatooine, then suddenly the elevator stops.

The door opens and I find myself looking at Leia.

And she is pissed.

Oh shit.

I let out a nervous laugh. "I was just going to come and see you-"

She looks at the rifle slung over my shoulder, then to Din and then to the child, and back to me before ordering "My office, now!"

Din looks at me in panic and silently I follow Leia out of the elevator with him and the child trailing behind me while Leia lets me have it.

"I haven't heard from you for maker knows how long after you were charged with war crimes which I had to have dismissed, then you send out a distress signal from Tatooine and then the audacity to go see the Chancellor before me!"

"I was going to come and see you," I say apologetically but she is far from finished.

"You run off to kill one Mandalorian and come back with another and a child! You are going to sit down and tell me what the hell has happened before you even think about going to attack Mon Mothma!"

"How did you know I was going to-" I begin as we enter her office and she cuts me off sharply.

"Because I know you Kyra," she says and leans back on her desk with her arms crossed over her chest, looking at the three of us. "Care to introduce us?"

I clear my throat, realising I should have known Leia would be pissed, Din definitely seems more than a little afraid of her. As he should be.

"This is my sister Leia who I told you about, Princess and Senator for Alderaan," I say and Din tilts his head at me as I laugh nervously. "Leia this is my-" I cut myself off not knowing how to finish that sentence. "This is Mando, a Mandalorian who I met on Tatooine, he and I um, we've been travelling around together ever since I checked in with you before I left Tatooine."

"Senator," Din greets awkwardly and Leia looks less than impressed considering the last Mandalorian I introduced her to, and I take the kid from his arms, my last weapon to avoid her killing me here and now.

"And this is my padawan," I tell her and her face softens as the kid waves to her, then her eyes widen as she feels it, his connection to the force. "He is the reason why I haven't been home, why I haven't been in touch."

Leia steps closer and lets the child take her hand, he can feel the force within her. "This child is your padawan?"

"He is," I say and offer a small smile. "I never thought I'd be on my third one by the age of twenty eight but here I am, say hi to your aunty Leia."

The Child makes a sound resembling a hello and I know even Leia can't be mad now.

Hopefully.

"How- where did you find him?" she exclaims. "I haven't felt anything like him except for Ben?"

I look at Din who steps forward without my permission and panic. "I was paid to bring him in as a bounty for the Empire," he says and I curse silently as Leia looks at me with raised eyebrows, knowing she'll have a lot to say once it's just her and I alone. "I rescued him and was tasked with returning him to his kind, to the Jedi. Then I found Kyra on Tatooine."

"He and I decided that we would take him to Ahsoka Tano to get her expertise on how to train someone like him," I quickly explain to distract her from the fact he's a bounty hunter, but then again she did marry a smuggler. "Hence why I had to find Bo-Katan but that's a story for another time."

"Well did you find Ahsoka?" she asks and I shake my head.

"Not yet, because we discovered why the Empire wants the Child," I say and hand him back over to Din, knowing the kid doesn't need to hear this. "Can you take him outside please and close the door."

He nods in understanding and takes the kid outside without another word, once the door closes Leia raises an eyebrow at me. "A Mandalorian bounty hunter?"

"It's not like that," I dismiss but she isn't buying it. "Okay it is like that, but I will explain later. I'm here to attack the Chancellor not explain my love life."

She sighs deeply. "I love you to death but sometimes I don't even know what to say. After all that time of no contact you come here with a Mandalorian lover and a padawan who is more powerful than anything I've ever felt. Do you know what it's like to just get a call from security saying 'General Kenobi is here to see the Chancellor with an assault rifle, please help!'"

"Well now that's just dramatic," I dismiss. "And it's not mine, I stole it from an Imperial Freighter that I shot up with my aunt and her squad." Before she can get yell at me again I put a datastick on her desk. "It is filled with recordings from inside the freighter and a formally operational Imperial lab on Nevarro."

"Formerly?"

"I blew it up."

She just sighs heavily and mutters "I swear between you and Han and Luke, all running away for weeks or months at a time with no notice and blowing up maker knows what-"

"The lab was taking bloodsamples from the Child to use his midichlorians in experiments."

Whatever words she had disappear and she turns white. "They were taking his midichlorians?"

"And injecting them into other lifeforms with varying levels of success, but I had never been so disturbed in my life," I tell her, feeling ill at the thought. "We only came across the experiments after we set the lab to blow, otherwise we would have brought some back, either way I had to fight my way out of there."

"Is this all the evidence?" she asks warily as I put the weapon on her desk.

"Well I have a scientist frozen in carbonite on my ship but I know how you feel about carbonite so I didn't bring him with me," I say and she gapes at me. "If you need anything that isn't on that drive I can beat it out of him."

She just shakes her head and gets back to the important part. "The Empire wants the Child?"

I take a seat and lower my voice. "Before I met Mando he had a stand off with Moff Gideon, thought he killed him, turns out he didn't. Then at an incredibly inconvenient time Gideon landed outside my home with at least fifty stormtroopers. Mando hid the kid and sent the distress signal while I faced the bastard. Kept Gideon talking until-"

"Until what?" Leia asks and I force myself to speak his name without fear.

"Until Boba Fett stabbed Mando and left him to die," I grind out and her eyes widen.

"You said he was-"

"Dead, I know," I say and take a deep breath before it all comes spilling out. "Turns out I was wrong and that mistake nearly got Mando killed. Boba for some fucked up reason put the shield up before he disappeared so I could survive to find Mando and watch him die. I- I was sobbing over his body thinking he was gone until my fathers ghost and the child helped me save him. I nearly lost someone I love to him so I can assure you he's more than dead to me."

She watches me closely. "Love?"

I panic at what I've just revealed and quickly quieten my voice. "That's a conversation for later when he isn't standing outside. But the point is Boba Fett is alive and most likely wants me dead, or at least to suffer for the full body third degree acid burns I gave him, again, a story for later. But the point is Moff Gideon attacked my home prepared to kill me to get the child. If it wasn't for the fact it is the only place on Tatooine with a damn shield generator I would be dead, he would be dead, and the Empire would have the kid! The only reason Gideon left was because he and I were both expecting the Republics army and I got nothing except for Han and Chewie!"

Her lips form a hard line as she tries to mask her own anger. "I didn't know about the distress call until six hours after it happened, they hid it from me."

I scoff in disbelief, but it is perfectly believable. Because they've done it before.

"Just like when they refused to come to Mandalore's aid during the purge," I remember, the beginning of the bad blood between Mothma and I.

Security chased after me as I entered the meeting room which was in action and Leia almost collapsed the moment she saw me. "You're alive-"

But everyone fell silent as I launched myself at Mon Mothma, only to be grabbed by Han who had to fight to tear me from her. "You bitch!"

She clutched her reddening cheek that I struck and stared at me in shock. "We thought you were dead."

Tears burned in my eyes as the room stared at me, feral and still covered in the blood of the Mandalorians who were struck down on the field beside me. Of the Stormtroopers I slaughtered to escape Vaders torture chamber. Of the ashes of my home.

"Where the hell were you!" I screamed as Leia joined Han in trying to hold me back from kill Mon Mothma where she stood.

She lowered her hand from her face, already bruising, and said "Engaging would not have been wise or in the best interests of the Rebellion."

"The Rebellion," I breathed as hot tears wet my cheeks. "I've sacrificed everything for this fucking Rebellion and where were you when my people were being slaughtered by the millions!"

"Take the General away, now!" she ordered and security tried to wrestle me from Han and Leia, who desperately pleaded with Mothma to let them handle this.

"You're going to wish I was dead!" I screamed as I was torn fighting tooth and nail from the woman who let Mandalore fall.

"Kyra?" Leia asks anxiously, recognising the look in my eye.

Without another word I get out of my seat and walk out the door, giving Din who waits a single warning. "Be prepared for security to kick us out."

"Kyra!" Leia yells as she chases after me. "I understand better than anyone but you can't do this!"

She chases after me all the way to Mothma's office, following me as I storm in without caring about the consequences.

"You have a lot of nerve don't you?"

"General Kenobi," she says expectantly. "I see Princess Leia was unable to talk you out of being foolish."

"Chancellor, please," Leia pleads. "She isn't-"

"Last time you refused a distress signal from me it took your entire security detail to stop me from killing you," I threaten and she leans away from me. "They aren't here."

"Kyra!" Leia exclaims.

"I could have you arrested just for that comment alone," she warns and at this point I'd like to see her try.

"I wouldn't actually do it," I dismiss as Leia stands firmly between us. "Not in front of the kid anyways."

I take the kid from Din's who stands there, a silent backup. "Mon Mothma, meet my padawan, an innocent child who Moff Gideon tried to seize when he attacked my home."

Her jaw clenches tight at the mention of Moff Gideon. "General, I-"

"No!" I say sharply. "You are going to sit there and listen. I have sent out a distress signal twice in my entire life, both times you left me to die. The first time Mandalore was slaughtered in the purge because you thought engagement would be unwise. Do you remember what I told you when I arrived back to base after escaping from Vader's torture chamber?"

Her hand reaches for the panic button but Leia reaches forward and grabs it. "Please, just listen to her, I swear she won't engage."

"I told you that you were going to wish I was dead," I remind her. "And perhaps that's why you refused my aid, going as far as to hide it from Leia so if any help did come it would be too late."

Leia looks at her former mentor in a mixture of shock and horror. "Chancellor?"

"You have been difficult since the moment you joined the Rebel Alliance," Mothma tells me bitterly. "When I heard the daughter of Satine Kryze wanted to fight I knew you would be nothing but trouble."

"Until you learned I was a Jedi Knight," I remind her, knowing how the Republic loved to exploit the Jedi and make them their soldiers. "You were quite happy sending me into the field after that. Just another soldier to die fighting for freedom while you sit on your ass sending men and women to their deaths without remorse."

"Someone has to make the hard calls and not let their emotions get in the way," she says stiffly then decides to dig the knife deeper. "Something that a Jedi Master should respect, your father always did."

"Do you know what my father cared about more?" I ask, holding my padawan tight. "His child. Just as I do. Moff Gideon would start a war to get his hands on my padawan, he came to my home with an army prepared to fight, to break your sacred Galactic Concordance, but then again you've ignored the fact the Empires been doing that for years. If it weren't for the shield my mother had installed when I was a child then I would be dead, the man standing behind me would be dead, and this child would be in the hands of the Empire."

She doesn't even blink, even as Leia tries to intervene. "Chancellor, you know you were wrong in denying her request, admit to it and we can put this behind us."

Mon Mothma looks at me and shakes her head slowly. "But she won't. This goes too far back."

And she's right. No apology could ever lead to my forgiveness.

"I abandoned my home to fight in the Rebellion when I was sixteen, and left it under my aunts rule to continue fighting once I was named Mand'alor. And yet when the time came for you to come to my aid you let Mandalore fall, just as you were willing to let this child be taken by the Empire!" Din steps closer, the two of us one united front. "All because you are a coward, you never fought on a battlefield once in your life, yet you say you're tired of fighting? It's in my blood, I will fight until the day I die for freedom, for justice, and it's soldiers like me you fear. Because we know the truth about the Empire rising again while you pass bill after bill disarming us. If this Republic ever falls again it will be us who step up to fight, and it will be because you let it fall."

She tilts her head at me and I know I've struck a nerve deep within her. "Would you truly attempt to destroy the peace we've worked so hard to attain?"

"No," I answer defiantly. "The Empire is already doing that, Moff Gideon did it when he came to my door with an army. And I have all the proof of the Empire's resurgence that the people need to depose your pacifist regime."

Leia gapes in realisation of what I'm planning to do, but nonetheless she stands by me. "Chancellor, the people deserve transparency, our army deserves to know what we face and so does the senate, do not escalate this further by attempting to cover it up."

"I am not attempting anything-"

"No, but I am," I decide. "If you won't fight then I will."

"You are still a member of this Republic, of this military," Mothma warns. "If you disobey my orders to stand down then you will be stripped of all military titles and face prosecution."

"No," I say, knowing I should have done this long ago. "I'll do it myself. Chancellor, consider this my official resignation from the mess you've made of the Rebel Alliance. As Duchess of Mandalore you have no authority over me, I shouldn't have to remind you Mandalore has and will always be a neutral system. Every action I take will be on behalf of Mandalore. If you want to stop me then you can put a declaration of war through the senate. But that would be against your pacifist regime wouldn't it?"

She looks at me as if she's seeing a ghost. "You are just like your mother. She may have been a pacifist but you can never take the fight out of a Mandalorian. Which is exactly why you are a danger to the Republic."

"No more than the Empire," I retort. "If you wish to turn a blind eye then you can lead the Republic back into the state it was before it fell. I always wondered why my mother refused to allow Mandalore to become part of the Republic. Now I understand. "

"And yet Mandalore is a wasteland while the Republic stands."

Leia steps aside and Din puts his hand on his blaster as I step forward. "Because you cowered behind your desk as you do now, too afraid to engage the enemy. The fall of Mandalore is on your shoulders just as much as Moff Gideons. Some of us remember the horrors of the Empire every time we think of our homes, of our families. All of them murdered. Our planets destroyed." Leia flinches and my words are bitter. "You escaped unscathed, never fought on the front lines, never knew what it was like watching those you cared for die in front of your eyes. Never knew what it's like to lose a mother, a father, and a brother to war." Leia stares at me in confusion and I know Korkie is one of the many stories I have to explain to her. "I sacrificed everything for this Republic, and yet you let my home burn. Now I will fight for Mandalore, for justice, even if that means turning my back on everything I once fought for."

"Your mother was a woman of peace," she says, trying to guilt-trip me into surrender. "She saw what war did to her people before the rise of the Empire. She would be horrified to hear your words."

"Horrified yes, but she would understand," I say knowing her better than Mon Mothma ever did, knowing what she would have wanted. "If she had lived to see the purge she would understand. I was raised as a warrior for a reason, to lead Mandalore and I will. I will lead it as a neutral system as my mother once did. Mandalorian's are preparing for war, war against the Empire and Moff Gideon. If you want to stop me from exposing the truth then you'll have to kill me."

With that I turn my back on her and leave without another word.

The moment her office is behind me I feel Dins hand on my shoulder, turning me to face him, and he tells me what I need to hear. "You did the right thing."

I grip his hand tightly, finding my strength in him, but before I can say anything Leia emerges from the Chancellors office and approaches me with a face that's difficult to read.

"I haven't seen that side of you in almost a decade," she says quietly. "The Mand'alor."

And I ask her this not as a General to a Senator, but from one princess to another, as we were when we first met all those years ago. "Do you think I'm doing the right thing, do you think there's a chance?"

She gives me a single nod, all I need. "I do, and I'm behind you all the way."

"Thank you," I whisper hoarsely and she squeezes my hand.

"I'll give you whatever support I can against Moff Gideon, and if you decide to turn your attention to Mandalore in retaking it, then the Alderaanian sector will be your ally, always."

I embrace my sister, two heirs to fallen planets and scattered people.

Except I may yet have a chance to liberate Mandalore.

"I love you," I tell her, more grateful for her than I could ever put into words.

"I love you too," she says releasing me. "I'll take care of the evidence and making sure the senate gets it. You take care of damage control, there's no doubt they'll be reporters outside waiting for a statement."

"Good," I say, ready to use my voice. "It's time the people learned the truth."

~

I stand on a podium outside the government building, Din standing just below me with the Child hidden safely away in the bag Din carries. A crowd has gathered with dozens of reporters screaming at me and news cameras are rolling.

"I am displeased to announce my resignation after twelve years of loyal service to the Rebel Alliance and then the New Republic," I announce much to the shock of the audience and I know whatever I say now will be plastered over the holonews galaxy wide. "This decision was not prompted by any desire for an early retirement, but by the incompetence and corruption of the New Republic. For years I have raised my concerns of an Imperial resurgence to no avail, not long ago I was charged with a war crime for executing the men who abetted the escape of Moff Gideon, the man who led the purge of Mandalore. The same monster who attacked my home to seize a child, who I and other Mandalorian's, have risked their lives to protect. A child who the Empire conducted experiments on in Imperial bases operating with a strength not seen since the Fall of the Empire. Under siege I sent a distress signal to the Republic in what was a life and death situation, an attack by an Imperial army led by the war criminal Moff Gideon, but they denied that request."

I gage the expressions of horror and know this will be the greatest scandal that has rocked the New Republic since it's formation and I know my mother would be proud of me for finally seeing what she always saw.

"If it weren't for other circumstances I would be dead, and the child I harboured would be in the hand's of the Empire which very much is still in operation in the outer rims. But this is not the first time the Chancellor has denied the call, it was her decision to not respond to my plea for help that led to the Great Purge of Mandalore. She claims someone has to make the hard decisions but choosing to sit by and do nothing while millions die is hardly a decision, and it is the future of this Republic if they continue to disarm the military and allow the Empire to grow in strength once again. I am the daughter of the famous pacifist Duchess Satine Kryze, but even I can see that this is a time for action instead of cowardice, for the Empire is only growing stronger by the day. A fact which the Republic has knowingly hid from it's citizens."

It's then I decide to make it official, to reclaim the title I abdicated for the Republic.

"But I am not standing here as a citizen of the Republic, I stand here as Kyra Kyrze, Duchess and former ruler of Mandalore."

There's tears in my eyes and I look at Din who gives me a single nod, knowing where I'm going, knowing what has plagued me ever since I reunited with Bo-Katan.

"I relinquish my title of General to retake my place as Duchess of Mandalore, something I should have done a decade ago, and declare on behalf of my people that we will receive the justice that the Republic will never grant us through the ancient ways of Mandalore. The time for hiding in the shadows is over, it's time to retake Mandalore and take justice for the genocide of our people! Which will be done with the execution of Moff Gideon and reclaiming the darksaber as I did once before. I implore my people to remember that Mandalore isn't a race, it's a creed, and to fight for your brothers and sisters, your mothers and fathers, your riduurs and your children, both fallen and still breathing, as I will."

And there it is.

I know wherever Bo-Katan is, I can feel her with me now, just as I feel my mother.

It's past time I took what is rightfully mine back.

~

Not many words are spoken as we venture to my apartment in the city, at least not until the child is asleep in the spare room which is usually only used when I'm babysitting Ben, but at least it's equipped for a child.

"How are you feeling?" Din asks as I lie back on the couch, knowing it's strange for me to be this quiet.

But I've never felt this free. "It's as if this weight has been lifted off my shoulders," I tell him. "I wish I did it years ago."

"You were incredible today, a true Mandalorian," he says proudly and I sit up straighter, surprised, it's rare for Din to be so expressive. "Your aunt definitely would have been proud."

"Well she didn't raise me to be spiteful for nothing," I comment, there's no doubt she's seen my speech, and I pray other surviving Mandalorians will as well.

"Well the Chancellor deserved it," he says sitting beside me on my couch. "I never knew the Republic denied sending troops to Mandalore during the purge."

"Not many people do," I tell him bitterly. "Or did anyways. They made sure they covered it up, especially once the New Republic was formed. When I escaped from Vader after the purge I attacked Mon Mothma, screaming at her and Han had to wrestle me off of her. It was then the bad blood started."

"I can't blame you," he says, behind me fully. "I'm surprised you didn't kill her."

"Oh I tried," I laugh bitterly and think of my aunt. "Bo Katan was right when she said the Republic just chewed me up and spat me out. Because I was never part of it. Mandalore was never part of it. I might have been their little wild card but I was their biggest problem too. In the end I fought for Mandalore and to get rid of the Empire, which is exactly what I'm going to keep doing."

"I'm going to be honest with you cyar'ika," he says leaning in close, just the two of us now. "When you live your entire life in the outer rims you accept the galaxy is a fucked up place. You can fight until the day you die, but that darkness is always gonna be there. But that's the Jedi in you, you always have hope, believe that if you fight hard enough you can change the galaxy. It's why I-" he cuts himself off and takes my hand in his. "You might not be able to save the galaxy, but you can save the kid."

"We can save him," I correct, knowing that wherever I go, he'll be by my side, but he isn't finished.

He's silent for a moment before adding. "And Mandalore."

"Din?"

He takes both of my hands in his. "All I ever knew was the creed, you've changed that. Everything has changed since I found you. I- I wish I'd known you sooner. I wish I'd been able to fight with you on Mandalore. I never believed in there being a ruler of Mandalore, just the creed, but you- if you decide to stake your claim I'll be right beside you."

I don't have words. All I know is that if it wasn't for that helmet my lips would be on his. Whatever hesitation I had on Tatooine, whatever doubts, they disappear in an instant. And so I rest my forehead against his, feeling the light, seeing a future for us so clearly I could almost touch it, if only I reached out to take it.

Three words sitting on the tip of my tongue amongst the promises of forever.

"I wish I'd found you a long time ago Din Djarin," I breathe shakily. "If I found you when I was twenty-"

"I don't think you would have liked me much then," he jokes and I laugh at just how wrong he is.

"You'd be surprised," I tease. "I had awful taste back then."

He actually laughs, a real laugh. "Well I can't argue with that."

I'm smiling broadly, in a way I didn't know if I ever would again until he came along. And for just a moment I wonder what would have happened if it was him I met when I was twenty.

"If I met you back then I would never have let you go," I whisper and he holds me close, vulnerable in a way I've never seen him.

"You and the kid- before you two it was dark. I was alone," he confesses to me, his voice heartbreakingly rough. "Now- now I can't imagine a life without the two of you in it."

"Neither can I did," I confess to him in full honestly, after so long of holding everything in, unable to stop the truth flowing from me. "When I see the future, I see you. I see a life with you. You aren't alone Din, not ever again."

"Cyar'ika," he breathes unevenly as my arms wind themselves around his neck and his around my waist, both of us aching to be closer,

"Don't you ever doubt how much you mean to me, how grateful I am to have you by my side. For our little family," I smile, the sight of him blurred from tears of pure bliss. "Our clan of three. No matter what comes next Din it will always be my first priority. The kid, and you."

"Ner Cyar'ika, I-"

He's cut off by a knock on the door and we both let out an irritable sigh, a habit I seem to have picked up from him.

"That would be Leia," I say, hesitantly pulling myself from his embrace and sure enough when I open the door it is her, but the moment I lay eyes on her I know something isn't right. "Leia?"

She walks in and her voice is heavy, thick with tears. "I'm leaving now for Yavin-4. I just got a message informing me of- of Shara Bey's funeral."

I go cold, as if the air was knocked from my lungs. "What do you mean funeral?"

Shara Bey, our friend through all those years in the Rebellion. "Something happened- her ship must have had a malfunction- I- her son's only eight."

Her little boy who I remember playing with when he was just a toddler, Poe. I pull her into my arms, knowing she's horrified by the thought of leaving Ben behind.  Even now, the thought of leaving the Child behind strikes a similar type of fear in me, and I realise, I feel far more like a mother than a master.

And in the end, in those moments I thought I was going to lose Din, I swore not to take the child as my apprentice, but as my own. As a foundling.

In the future I envision so clearly, I still do.

And yet here I am, holding my sobbing sister, stunned into silence over the death of our friend, a wife and a mother, our best lieutenant. A reminder of how quickly a future can be torn away, no matter how bright it may seem.

#din djarin #din djarin x oc #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x oc

[anextraordinarymuse]

Time for another trip down the Nathan x Elizabeth rabbit hole

Because it's Monday, and you know what that means my dears - we have more Nathan x Elizabeth things to discuss! Hopefully this won't be too disjointed, but I have a lot of things I want to discuss, so bear with me if it is.

To start: Elizabeth sure is giving away a lot of advice that she should be taking. Honestly, nearly every talk she had this episode with Ned, Katie, and Florence had me wanting to leap through the screen and shake her. Are you listening to yourself, Elizabeth?? DO YOU HEAR WHAT YOU'RE SAYING!? Actually though, I think she is - I think the fact that she's saying these things is a sign that she's moving into a better headspace now - she's making sense of herself again, and replanting her feet on solid ground. One of the things I have always believed is that if you can explain something to someone else, then you have a real understanding of that thing. And if you aren't sure, sometimes trying to explain it to someone else can help you: you'll either learn that you do understand it after all, or be able to identify the gaps. But Elizabeth doesn't look at all uncertain in the scenes where she's giving advice: she appears at ease, and thoughtful, and maybe a little inspired. In fact, the only times we really see any hesitation or doubt from Elizabeth this episode is when she's with either Rosemary, or Lucas. Interesting, huh?

From a purely positional standpoint there were a lot of interestingly staged shots in this episode. Note, I mean positional literally: the way they had the characters standing, and the way some of the shots were framed, definitely felt curious. And intentional. All of the HV couples are pretty lovey-dovey when they're together in this episode, with a few exceptions ... scratch that. They're all lovey-dovey in the scenes they're in together, with the exception of Elizabeth and Lucas. If a couple is in a scene together then they are touching in some way - in this episode, they either have their arms linked, or an arm around a shoulder, or have established contact in some other way. Notably, the only actual couple that we see not like this is Carson and Faith, but that's only in two of their scenes, and in both of those they are still standing close together and giving off a clear "couple" vibe.

This is not the case for Elizabeth and Lucas at any point this episode. In fact, they have little interaction this episode as a couple. Elizabeth talks to Lucas in the saloon about the Katie and Ned situation, but there is nothing in this conversation to indicated that they are involved in any way. No physical contact, no references to their relationship - if someone who had never seen this show saw this moment they would have no way of knowing that these two people were anything but friends. And even though they go to the wedding together, the same is true there. But, more interesting than that, is where the directors decided to seat Elizabeth and Lucas. If you go back and watch the wedding scenes, you'll see that there is a clear distinction between the two sets of pews: on one side, they've seated single people ... and then Elizabeth and Lucas. I mean single literally, not as a statement on their relationship. We have Fiona (single), Robert (single), Minnie (Married, but alone in this moment due to circumstance since Joseph is officiating and Angela is playing the piano), and Molly (single, for now), and then we randomly have Elizabeth and Lucas. But they're not touching, and they really don't even look at each other for most of the ceremony. Then, on the other side of the aisle, we have all of the couples/families: Nathan and Allie, Clara and Jesse, Faith and Carson, and Rosemary and Lee. Why such an obvious split? This was purposeful on the directors' part. This is a subtle but pointed nod to where Elizabeth and Lucas's relationship is headed.

But there are a few other interesting things to note in the wedding scenes. When Joseph is officiating, he says "You've declared your desire to be one, giving yourselves to each other in a life-long covenant. To be neither selfish, nor self-serving." Now, as the camera zooms in on Lucas and Elizabeth, there are some things to note: the way Lucas moves his one hand into his other hand as Joseph talks about the life-long covenant makes me think that he wanted to take Elizabeth's hand in that moment, but didn't. Instead, he folds his hands together and can be seen kind of rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand in what I think is a sign of frustration (because he wants to hold Elizabeth's hand). But Elizabeth's hands have been folded in her lap this whole time. The camera pans over a little to Elizabeth's hands and we watch her play with her wedding rings as Joseph says "to be neither selfish nor self-serving." Joseph says a few more lines, and then we get to this moment: "With humility, gentleness, and patience," and we see Elizabeth subtly glance to her side, where Lucas is sitting. There is so much to unpack here! None of this is coincidental. Elizabeth's relationship with Lucas is entirely selfish and self-serving, and it has been from the get go. (Note: self-serving means "having concern for one's own welfare and interests before those of others."). This is a moment where Joseph doesn't know, but we do, that he has essentially just a held a mirror up to Elizabeth and made her take a good look at her actions. But! The adjectives that Joseph chose are fascinating, because they are most definitely Nathan's: humility, gentleness, and patience. If I could only use three words to describe Nathan, they would definitely be those ones. Humble, gentle, patient; yeah, that's Nathan. Then, Joseph says, "... and keeping no record of wrongs, because you will be wrong." At this point, the camera pans to Nathan (and Allie), who have both struggled this season and been wrong in one way or another. So has Elizabeth, of course, but this moment is more about Nathan and Allie still having a loving, stable relationship despite their mistakes (some of which have made things a little harder on the other one at times).

Then we get to the reception where, once again, all of the couples are together - except Elizabeth and Lucas, who are not together and do not share a single moment together. But we get a lot of information about where this "triangle" is going from other sources at this point. I haven't mentioned it yet, but one of the things we see this episode is that Allie has found a new person to focus on lately: Paul. We haven't seen a lot of moments with her and Robert, but we do see Paul, Robert, and Allie together in the phone room, where Robert looks a little displeased with how happy Allie seems to be about getting to spend all this time with Paul. Remember, Allie's had a bit of a love triangle of her own this season: she like-likes Robert, who has decided he like-likes Anna. But now, when it looks like Allie might like-like Paul, guess who comes around and suddenly starts taking notice? Yep - Robert. At the reception, Robert compliments Allie's hair and then asks her to dance. This is obviously a sweet (and funny/innocent) parallel to the Nathan/Elizabeth/Lucas triangle. And, based on that little look on Allie's face when she finds out that Fiona likes to fish, and knows how, I won't be remotely surprised if we get a moment in 8x11 that's presented in a way to make Elizabeth jealous of a possible hinting at a Nathan/Fiona pairing. I don't think it'll be on purpose, but I'm wondering if maybe Allie will invite Fiona fishing with them or some similar situation will arise, and Elizabeth will see it - and be jealous.

Moving on, though. Aside from this scene, I think the last three-ish minutes of the episode tell us some very important things. First, we get the conversation with Lucas and Nathan where Lucas tells him to stop pressuring Elizabeth. Which Nathan handles surprisingly well despite how much it upsets him. This is what's important, though: in this moment, Nathan has no way of knowing if this comment is Lucas being a dick, or if he's saying it because of something that Elizabeth has said to him. It's entirely possible that Elizabeth told Lucas that she feels Nathan is trying to pressure her, and Lucas is simply warning him off. Elizabeth and Nathan haven't actually spoken since their moment in the Mountie office, where Nathan once again told her that he was in love with her - and she ran away. Again. So, I think it's entirely reasonable that right then Nathan might be feeling a lot of things: upset, vulnerable, discouraged, weary ... he has no way of knowing (yet) if Elizabeth is feeling pressured. He walks away, and walks past Elizabeth without a word. He glances at her, but doesn't stop, and doesn't even offer a hello in passing. He just walks by. And, seconds later - seconds after Lucas has just told him to stop pressuring Elizabeth - who seeks him out but Elizabeth? Unprompted, unencouraged, unexpected - there's a tap on his shoulder and there she is. HA! Who's doing the chasing again, Lucas?

(Side note: there's another thing about this moment that we're going to talk about on its own in a minute).

When Elizabeth asks to speak with Nathan outside, he looks both surprised and nervous. By the time they get outside, he looks downright anxious, honestly. I think he was prepared for Elizabeth to tell him that she felt pressured, and that he needed to move on because she didn't feel the same way (or something similar). But again, Elizabeth does no such thing. She tells him with earnest sweetness that she doesn't blame him for Jack's death; she finally relieves him of the burden that he's been silently carrying for three years. YES!!! And then Nathan takes her hands, and there's a lot to unpack here, as well. Now, some people think that this was a romantic gesture, but I don't. I think this was just a moment of connection between two people who have been bearing a heavy burden for some time; I think Nathan is just so relieved and grateful to know that Elizabeth doesn't blame or hate him that he can't put it into words, and tries to express himself through another avenue. BUT - again, the directors have chosen to present this moment in a very curious way. First of all, Nathan reaches for her left hand first - the hand with her wedding rings, and yet we don't see them in the shot despite having seen them prominently displayed in several of her scenes with Lucas. Secondly, the way that they chose to have Nathan and Elizabeth standing is absolutely reminiscent of a bride and groom at the altar. I mean, we just saw Ned and Florence in this position a few scenes ago. This actually kind of drives me nuts. WHY did they choose to frame the shot like that? And then we see Lucas through the window, clearly outside of and apart from whatever is happening with Nathan and Elizabeth. But there is NO REASON for this moment to be shot the way it was. And IN THE SAME episode as a wedding (just a few short scenes after said wedding, even).

Which leads me into another point: I have seen some people speculating/hoping that the "huge/shocking surprise" (or however Brian Bird phrased it) in the finale is a sudden wedding between Nathan and Elizabeth, or at least a proposal. Speculation that I have outright dismissed, honestly, because this is the show that took FIVE FREAKING SEASONS to let Jack and Elizabeth get married, and has drug out this damn love triangle for a whole season longer than it needed to.

BUT.

This episode has me feeling like I ... might be wrong. I mean, I've been wrong about pretty much everything else this season, I think, so who knows? But let's look at why I'm starting to think that those possibilities might not be so far fetched.

In 8x02, Nathan is going to look at Bill's land and he tells Elizabeth before leaving that he thinks it's time he settled down. When he does see the land, he immediately starts talking about building a house. Fast forward to 8x05, where Nathan and Elizabeth share that scene in her house where Elizabeth tells Nathan that he will always be the measure of the quality of man that Allie uses as "she chooses who to marry." The wording here stuck out to me (and others) as being somewhat odd, because Elizabeth doesn't talk about falling in love or building a family or anything - she says "chooses who to marry." Sounds like that wording applies to someone other than Allie, doesn't it? Now, fast forward to 8x07 and Allie surprising Nathan and Elizabeth with that moment in Bill's office. You know what scene looks like? A sudden wedding with a judge/justice of the peace. I don't say that because that's what I want it to be - I say that because I have been to weddings just like that, and that's what that scene immediately made me think of. It looked like a freaking elopement.

Now, on to 8x09, where we get quite a bit of this wedding/marriage imagery and symbolism. First, we get Lucas's conversation with Allie where he tells her about the man that tried to come between his parents. Now, the way the story is told, it's clear that Nathan and Elizabeth are in the place of Lucas's married parents (and thus, in the role of Allie's parents) and that Lucas is the other man, the interloper. So, now we have someone outside of Nathan and Elizabeth's relationship painting them as a married couple. Actually though, let's back up a second: in the beginning of this episode we get Rosemary talking to Elizabeth where she says "I wanna know why Florence and Ned took so long to commit to each other," and then goes on to outline that they've worked closely together for awhile, have known each other for years, and both lost their spouses a while ago. We literally start the episode with a mention of time, and how ridiculous it is that so much time has passed between Florence and Ned sort of being together, and actually committing to one another. Coincidence?

Later, in the party scene, when the men go to join the women to combine their parties, there's a moment where it shows the women from the front as the men walk over (who have their backs to the camera) and Elizabeth turns and half rises out of her chair. She looks at Lucas first, but her eyes are inevitably drawn to Nathan - she actually glances between the two of them a few times in quick succession, so it's easy to miss. But the real takeaway here is the way the shot is framed when Nathan takes Elizabeth's hands: he's holding both of them again, and he draws them closer to his chest, and then they just stand there ... looking like a couple at the altar, again. Of course, since Elizabeth is blindfolded, Fiona literally has to "give her away." Now, they're not alone in this scene, but it's framed so much like a wedding shot! Elizabeth is "alone" in the scene in that we can see Fiona's hands behind her, and a hint of the ladies sitting down in the background, but Nathan is standing squarely in front of her with a man on either side of him ... almost like there's a pastor on one side, and his best man on the other. (Side note: I laughed too hard at the image of Lucas as his best man, which is who it would be just based on position since the best man is always to the left of the groom in shots from this angle).

And then, we have 8x10. An entire episode about a wedding, in which Elizabeth has no significant scenes with the man she's actually dating, and nothing but significant scenes with Nathan. Alrighty then. Now, there are only two moments left in this episode that I want to talk about. First - and I only caught this because I watched the episode with headphones and captions on - is the moment that Elizabeth approaches Nathan at the reception. Nathan is talking to Bill, and if you listen closely he says: "I want to be married. I've been in this town three years ..." and then is interrupted by Elizabeth's shoulder tap. Y'ALL!!!! I WAS SHOOK! I mean, the statement isn't really surprising on its own since Nathan said way back in the beginning of the season that he wanted to settle down, but the fact that he just outright says it like that and that's the conversation that Elizabeth (unknowingly) interrupts!?!?! Second - this moment is then immediately followed by Nathan and Elizabeth holding hands once more like a couple at the altar, complete with Lucas in the window behind them simulating where the pastor would be standing to officiate? Damn. Everyone on this show just suddenly went "subtlety, who?" That moment of hand-holding outside still just boggles my mind, honestly, because there's just no reason for it to have been framed like that ... unless they purposely wanted to engender that wedding imagery.

Like ... at this point I'm kind of like, hell, I don't know, maybe the surprise in the finale is a freaking spur of the moment wedding. Even if it isn't, though, not only is it clear that Elizabeth is going to choose Nathan, but it's clear that they'll be getting married at some point. If we keep with the tradition of the last few years of having a wedding every season (or nearly that), then it would not surprise me at all if Nathan and Elizabeth get married in season 9. At this point, the only question is whether or not Faith and Carson will get married before Nathan and Elizabeth, or not at all.

So. This basically turned in to a novel, but there was just so much to talk about (and I'm sure I missed a few things I wanted to talk about!). If you stayed all the way to the end, thank you, and - as always - let me know what you think!

#nathan x elizabeth #nathan grant #elizabeth thornton #wcth #Jess' thoughts #seriously there was just so much to talk about #and I am finally excited for these next episodes again #after like a whole season of ... not being excited #no more love triangles okay? ever

[tbhwhocaresanymore]

Nancy Drew 2x1

ONE OF YOU apparently ran to @kat--writes, or as my friend and I call her Tumblr Kat, and snitched that I had not yet posted my Nancy Drew premiere review. I promised to get it up by today and yes it is technically after midnight but the sun has not yet risen, so please find my thoughts under the cut.

Before I do anything else let me just say I will never stop appreciating the continuous book Easter eggs the show writers drop. Nancy mentioning how she learned that trick with the mirror in “a bungalow mystery” when she did in fact pull that exact same trick in The Bungalow Mystery? Iconic.

Now that’s out of the way, I’m going to do something I’ve never really done before and start off with the negatives. Guys, I was underwhelmed.

Not by the episode itself, the episode was great. It picked up right where we left off and continued into the mystery of the Aglaeca, the cast was engaging, the horror was chilling, the story kept unfolding. The problem is, it was great as any other regular episode, it was less great as a season premiere. I waited TEN MONTHS for this episode. And granted I understand that ND didn’t get to finish off its first season how they wanted, but they have had, I repeat, ten months to plan this. The season 1 premiere, for all its issues, did exactly what a season premiere is supposed to do. It established relationships, a season-long arc, character trajectories, and even a couple of smaller plots. We saw Nancy and her dad were on the rocks, she and George didn’t get along in high school, Bess is rich but living in a van, Tiffany Hudson was murdered and the crew are suspects, George is sleeping with Ryan, Ace is working for the police, and we found the bloody Lucy Sable dress in Nancy’s attic, to name but a few.

You guys, that is a lot of plot lines. And the writers explored and solved every single one of them over the course of the season.

Now we have the season 2 premiere. The crew tries to find a mirror to fight the Aglaeca, meets a mouthy dude, and takes a break from the Aglaeca to hide from the Gorham wraith. (Gorham is 100% a play on Gotham fight me.) Like yes there is more if you squint, but aside from that nothing all that major really happened. Mr. Hudson is setting up a defense, but we knew that already. Ryan wants a relationship with Nancy and is pissed at Carson for keeping her a secret, but we knew that already. The new head cop doesn’t trust Nancy or the crew at all, but, again, we knew that already.

But since this was still a good episode even if a lackluster premiere, I will still give you some positives.

The Gorham wraith you guys, oh my god the horror was fantastic. Nancy Drew is really looking every other magic show’s super special effects in the eye as it hits them over the the head with a folding chair made by their costuming and makeup department. The scarecrow coming to life, banging on the back of the bus, crawling in after Nancy? On point. I was on the edge of my seat.

Ryan I know you are an asshole and your character arc is a work in progress but kidnapping? Are you serious right now? “Your suicidal girlfriend begged us to hide and take care of her child right before jumping off a cliff. Also I didn’t even know you were the father.” “Omg how dare you. Time for BLACKMAIL.” It’ll be interesting to see how this whole Ryan v Carson thing plays out. I suspect maybe Carson will become like an example father figure to Ryan, teach him how to be good to Nancy. Something like “if you’re serious about being a father lesson number one is it’s not about you anymore, it’s about her. And you sending me to prison won’t just hurt me it’ll hurt Nancy.” I think that would be a nice parallel, Kate was Lucy’s guidance counselor, and now Carson will be Ryan’s parental counselor/therapist/whatever.

I’m going to be completely honest here, I totally forgot Nick and George had not actually told Nancy they are together. No idea how long this is going to go on for, I suspect not that long, but maybe up until like episode 5 or 6. I do think it would be fun if Nancy found out in like the absolute worst way possible. Like here is my worst/best case scenario. I know Nancy is supposed to have some kind of thing with Gil so let’s say they hook up a couple times and he burns her, as he probably will, and Nancy goes to Nick cause she’s upset and needs to talk, and when he opens the door thinking it’s the pizza guy he is shirtless and George is in the bed behind him. Unlikely, but fun to imagine. But however they do it, all the Nick and George fans will undoubtedly get some fun footage of them sneaking around, so enjoy guys.

All the Nancy and Ace shippers are also getting good material, even if I want to grab Ace by the shoulders and physically shake him.

Nancy: I can’t let you guys help me summon the Aglaeca, there could be really bad consequences.

Crew: Psh, consequences? What consequences? We have the power of FRIENDSHIP.

*Aglaeca sends them all death visions*

Ace: How dare you drag me into this Nancy I can’t believe we’re all going to die because of you.

LIKE BRUH. ACE. MY GUY. If you could maybe use your considerable brain power to pull your head out of your ass for TWO SECONDS I would greatly appreciate it. Thanks. But aside from that, their scene at the end? Poetic cinema. The slow burn is strong with this one. Even if I do have faith she will eventually find her way back to Nick aaaaaaaaah

Not sure how I feel about the twins yet. I know they were in some other ND-verse book series, but tbh I only ever read the Nancy Drew books. I never delved into the Hardy Boys or anything else, I was a Drew girl all the way. I do think the writers could maybe have done a better job introducing us to Gil and making us like him. Like they were definitely going for the Han Solo type I feel, and George being all “wow the Bobsey twins are hardcore” as he ups the price while literally dying. Um, George, no, the Bobsey twins are fucking morons, or at least Mr. Diabetic over here is. It says a lot that Amanda had only two lines of dialogue and I liked her considerably more than Gil. But who knows, maybe they’ll grow on me. And they did mention their family used to work for the Hudsons, I would bet good money they know about more than one skeleton that’s been stuffed in the closet.

This paragraph right here is for me and the like two other Drewson shippers in the fandom. Hhhhhhhhhhhhhhh the first meeting flashback oh my god. I was dying. I rewatched it ten times. I am in love. The way they both just sort of stared at each other, the way Nancy clearly feels a certain amount of nostalgia for him and what they had. I am deceased. Honest to god I don’t care how many Nick x George and Nancy x Ace moments the writers throw at us, just as long as I continue to get crumbs like that I am good. Have faith guys.

And finally, oh my dear, talented writers. I would like to know when exactly you are planning on pulling my three most favorite women out of whatever floorboard you have stuffed them under. I WOULD LIKE DEAD LUCY, VICTORIA, AND HANNAH GRUEN TO PLEASE STAND UP. Yes I know Hannah Gruen is in the next episode but the wait is excruciating. And if the last time we saw Dead Lucy was going to be in the courtroom scene, her standing in the doorway as Nancy read her suicide note? I am going to mcfreaking lose it.

Well that’s all for today. Sorry this took so long, I guess I just wasn’t all that inspired by this premiere episode. But hopefully I will get the next one finished much quicker. And with that, I leave you until Wednesday the 27th when Nancy Drew 2x2, The Reunion of Lost Souls airs. See ya

#Nancy Drew cw #Nancy Drew #the search for the midnight wraith #Bess Marvin #George Fan #Ned Nickerson #Ace #Nancy x Ace #George x Nick #Nancy x Nick #Drewson #Ryan Hudson #Dead Lucy #writers where is dead lucy