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writerlyhabits · 1 year

Text

Ni Ceta

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Word Count: 5.7K

Summary: Your second day in the covert reveals both new and familiar faces; hospitality and hostility.

Chapter 2 of the Shereshoy series | Masterlist | Ch. 1 | Ch. 3

Warnings: lots of Mando’a, mild language, soft Din, awkward Din, protective Din [he’s got a wide range, okay?], original Mandalorian characters… maybe a little bit of angst? It’s mostly worldbuilding, so I think that’s about it.

AN: A word from the author – "I'm in grad school, I take forever to write things." This is the second part of a sister fic for my fic Courting a friend of mine wrote based on this request, and I’m so happy she’s letting me share it with you guys! In this chapter, we get to see some new faces – or helmets, I should say – and I am here for what they have in store for us! Thanks for reading, we hope you enjoy 💛

This series is also on AO3, so you can read this chapter there too…

Translations:

Baar’ure: medics

Gotabor(e): (approx) mechanic(s)

(Lit.) engineer(s)

Aruetii(se): outsider(s)

Me’bana?: What happened?

Copikla bal mirdala: cute and clever

Copikla: meant to refer to babies and animals - never women unless you want your head ripped off

Could be considered a backhanded compliment or an insult

Ne shab'rud'kaysh, vod: (Approx) Don’t fuck with her, brother.

(Lit.) Don't mess with her, brother. (extremely strong warning, likely to be followed by violence)

N'eparavu takisit, vod: (Approx) Sorry, brother.

(Lit.) I eat my insult, brother

Me’dinui: share, give to one another

Aliit: family

Solus mhi oyacyi: (Approx) United, we remain

Buy’ce: helmet

Ik’aad: baby, child under 3

Jatne vod: “sir” or “ma’am”

Cabur(e): guard(s)

Kad: In reference to Kad Ha’rangir, destroyer god in the old Mandalorian pantheon

Utreekov: fool, idiot (lit: emptyhead)

Ni ceta: (Lit) I kneel, (approx.) I’m sorry

Ni ven’ceta par gar ratiin: I will always kneel for you

You feel the chill of the cave air settle around you as you rise from your slumber.

Opening your eyes, a soft glow leaks into your space from the room adjacent— signaling that Din is also awake. Not that he sleeps for very long anyway. Rather than immediately leaving the comfort of your sleeping mat to join him, you opt to spend a few extra minutes holding the little one close, hand on his back, as he continues to sleep soundly on your chest. Mornings like these are commonplace— cuddling with the Child until you feel ready enough to begin the day; making fresh caf for you and Din to share, feeding yourself and the little one, while enjoying the quiet company of one another in the cockpit. Perhaps our routine can stay somewhat the same, even here.

Mustering the strength to pull yourself from your warm cocoon of blankets, you slowly rise, trying to not disturb the Child. Two feet on the cold stone ground, and a blanket wrapped over your shoulders, you wander towards the common room.

In the corner sits a short-legged table, the perfect height to tuck ones’ legs beneath while enjoying a meal, or in this case, the morning caf. Din sits beside it, his shoulders and head leaning against the wall, his legs outstretched and crossed in front of him, and his hands interlaced across his abdomen. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was sleeping; but for the first time in a long time, Din is simply relaxing.

His head turns slightly to look at you as you approach, his arms slowly extending upward for the morning trade-off of the Child. Din guides him to lie against his shoulder while you ease yourself down to the floor, sitting across from him. Getting to watch Din with the Child like this was rare— it wasn’t often Din was able to decompress, allowing his body a break from the constant weight of armor. With bounty hunters and Imperials searching for the three of you, danger lurked around every corner. Din had to be prepared to fight at any moment. Seeing him unarmored and at ease— getting to enjoy the simple action of cuddling with his Foundling— makes you feel more calm, despite how unsettled you had been the day before.

“Did you sleep well?” Din asks— his voice soft, to not stir the Child.

“Yeah…” you nod, your fatigue causing you to trail off, leaving your thoughts incomplete. When Din shut out the lights before falling asleep, the pitch black of the cave was not unlike the darkness in the Crest every night. Despite the sleeping mat not quite matching the feel of your bed on the ship, the familiarity of the darkness had been a comfort, allowing sleep to come easily.

However, it wasn’t entirely refreshing— with the usual lag of being on a new planet, as well as the ever present nip of the air throughout the night. Feeling the chill of the bedrock beneath you, you pull your blanket tighter around yourself. “...but it’s colder here than I expected.”

He readjusts, shifting the child to his other shoulder before replying. “The temperature underground remains constant,” he tells you, not unkindly, “It’s best to dress warmly— prevents the stone from absorbing your body heat.” He taps his fingers on the ground to emphasize his point. You nod, and the three of you ease into a comfortable silence, Din continuing to lie against the wall as you pull the blanket tight around you once more, hunching forward to rest your arms on the table, and your head atop your arms. It’s almost too easy to doze off again, your grogginess coupled with Din’s calming presence.

Before you’re able to drift back into a light sleep, he gently places his free hand on your arm, giving a light squeeze. His gruff voice just barely above a whisper, “I know you’re tired— but we won’t be out long… You’ll meet the baar’ure and the gotabore, and we’ll come back here.”

Gotabore— that’s a new one. The mechs?

Your eyes meet his visor again, and with a small sigh, you nod at him. “Let me get dressed… then I’ll make the caf.” Giving him a weak grin, he gently removes his hand from your arm, allowing you to stand back up and return to your sleeping area once again. While changing into a set of durable work-clothes, the time alone offers you the chance to reflect on the current arrangement— reiterating once more where you’ve come to, and why.

Recalling back to the discussion with the Alor the day prior— inquiring about some of your aptitudes and skill sets, tasking you with specific labor, and instructing Din the same. Being a guest in their home; shielding you from any dangers, being given a bed to sleep in and meals to eat— requesting that you earn your keep seems reasonable. But why did she ask— tell— Din to bring you here? When you first met, she did not deem you as a member of his clan, despite your… relationship with Din and your role as the other caretaker of the Child. Currently— the populace of this pseudokarst-hidden covert regard you as nothing but an outsider. An invader. A danger. A threat to their safety. An aruetii.

And yet, no matter their levels of distrust, you are here, by the Alor’s request.

This is not the first time you have had to deal with unpleasant people— those that make the day seem unending or unyielding in its discomfort, or work with ones who question your intelligence or ability at every turn. The only surefire way to ease the inquietude of your cohorts is to employ the same tactics that you always have— by simply doing your best. With Din, this came naturally. As a pragmatic man, he values and trusts both competency and integrity. Showcasing both traits allowed him to ease his habitual suspicion of strangers and eventually, after enough time, foster a fond friendship between you. Perhaps utilizing the same tactic can render a twin outcome.

It can’t hurt to try, at least for Din’s sake.

You understand, at least to some degree, what the concept of clan and community mean to him. After the tragedy of Nevarro, you watched him silently mourn his many losses, not just of the individuals, but the purpose he held in providing for his people, his sense of worth intrinsically tied to the survival and prosperity of his tribe. Whilst those who are gone will never return, this new collective of Mando’ade could present Din with an opportunity to release his residual guilt and shame, resuming his role as a primary generator of income, sponsoring many Foundlings and adults alike for many years to come. In essence, Din could finally come home.

Your place, for now it seems, is to make this arrangement with him, and them, work. To not instigate or incite any conflict, to not act out of turn or be discourteous. The way to the heart of your companion was through patience and compassion; and thus cooperation and communication is the way to solidarity with his comrades. Presenting yourself as an equal, as someone who has earned the respect and trust of one of their own can give them the freedom to do the same, without fear. And perhaps, one day, to care for you and about you just the same as Din does every day.

—

The workshop is lively— abuzz and boisterous.

The cavernous walls echo and amplify the clangs and thumps of the tools, muddling together with the chatter of the Mando’ade working together. In the mess of noise, you can distinctly make out their laughter, of all things— and with it, their camaraderie. At this moment, you can’t seem to recall a time in which you were that happy to be working on anything— undoubtedly, you’ve enjoyed some jobs and some people, but you can practically hear the smile in their voices hidden beneath their buy’ce.

For a group of ‘fearsome, ruthless warriors’, this isn’t what I expected.

The workshop appears to double as a port for the strange variety of ships they have stored, ones they must have collected over time, perhaps as more Mando’ade arrived at this covert. Anything from speeders to small transports. Most of them don’t appear to be in the best condition— and by the looks of others, not entirely operational either. At the far end of the shop is the hangar door, which presumably leads to the outside, where two Mandos are working on a small ship— a CS fighter. A small single-manned starfighter designed for combat, so customizable and versatile they’ve withstood the tests of time— most models still in existence are decades old.

Another pre-Empire ship, I’m sensing a trend.

The two Mandos underneath the ship pay no mind to you and Din as you approach, instead focusing on trying to remove a part from the underbelly of the starfighter. Upon closer inspection, you take note of their appearances. One Mando adorned in armor painted a faded mauve— old paint, chipped on the thighs and chest piece; and the other a light blue, with gray accents detailing the armor throughout. The two of you watch them work for a minute before Din speaks, getting their attention.

“Perhaps my friend could be of some aid.”

Their heads snap to you in unison, staring at you both for a moment. Mauve tilts her head, “Nice to see you too, Djarin.”

You give a slight chuckle at her response. Din can be the worst at introductions sometimes. You look back over to him, waiting for his own retort. Rather than greeting her, he nods his head once, and gestures towards the starfighter, “Me’bana? What’s wrong with it?”

Mauve pulls herself out from underneath the ship, wiping the oil on her gloves on the unarmored sections of her pants, and leaning herself against the wing.“Engine keeps overheating— we don’t have enough parts to replace every cooling unit, and I haven’t figured out which ones are failing or why,” she says casually, crossing her arms. She nods at you, “What do you think?”

You match her stance, crossing your arms, leaning your weight to one side, giving the question a moment of thought. “A ship as old as this? Check the ground conductors. The one’s on the Crest fry pretty often, especially with how manically he flies it.” In your peripherals you see Din turn his head to look at you, as if your jab at his pilotage genuinely offended him, but hearing a snicker from Mauve, he looks away.

Listening to your suggestion, Blue works to take apart the cooling unit they had already removed, working his way down towards the center. In less than a minute, he’s able to remove one of the culprits responsible for the malfunction— a very fried ground conductor. With a little, prideful smirk, you turn your head slightly to look back at Din, your eyes meeting his visor. He gives you a short nod, a silent approval of your correct assessment, his own unique way of telling you, Good work.

Blue rises from his back to a seated position, setting down the tool he has in hand. He refuses to look at you, to address you— to even acknowledge you, instead staring at Din. “Copikla bal mirdala— I see why the Alor let you keep her.”

What the hell is that supposed to mean?

If you’re dastard enough to undermine me, have the gall to do it in Basic, asshole. You want to conjure some sort of response to him, but ignoring his attempt at a crude remark may be the best course of action— to retaliate with your own insult will do nothing but escalate this dispute. As you have come to learn, anger is prone to rashness. And anger, whether it’s yours or Din’s— or both, is what he wants. And you won’t give him the satisfaction of having it.

“Ne shab'rud'kaysh, vod.”

Din, however, gives in to the bait. His voice irate— a warning, a threat. For a brief moment, there’s a passing worry about the possibility of Din igniting the flames of his gauntlet, a favorite weapon of his when he’s provoked. If anything, a knife fight feels more likely. The silence between the four of you somehow drowns out every other noise in the shop. The two of them continue to glare, both waiting for the other to make the first move.

Your eyes watch back and forth between the two of them, waiting with baited breath. When Blue slowly raises both his hands in a mock surrender,“N'eparavu takisit, vod—“, and Din finally looks away from him, you know things have settled… for now.

An uncomfortable silence returns for a few moments, and Din is still not at ease. Mauve finally quips, “You saw it for yourself, go find another conductor.” She waves her hand, gesturing for Blue to leave. He rises, walking towards the other ships in the center of the shop— “You too, Djarin, find some.” She adds, casting Din away in the same manner she did with the other gotabor.

Din hesitates. He doesn’t want to leave your side— and looks to you, with a silent question. You nod at him, an unspoken It’s okay— with a sigh, he complies with her command. “Fine,” he swiftly turns around, leaving the two of you alone.

You watch them descend further into the shop, until they disappear from your sight. You’re left with the sounds of the distant chatter of the other Mando’ade, continuing to echo as it did when you first arrived.

Well, that could have gone worse.

Of the six Mando’ade you’ve met, three of them have not been hostile. It’s a start.

Continuing to stare off, Mauve speaks once more to get your attention. “Come help me check the rest of them.”

Her request brings you back to the present moment, turning around to see her lying underneath the ship again, hands deep in its underbelly, loosening some things and pulling others. You kneel down, until you’re able to lower yourself to the ground completely, lying next to her. She hands you the cooling units as she pulls them out, and the two of you work to take them apart, sitting beside one another.

“Jado doesn’t like you. But pay him no mind.” She states, matter-of-factly.

Yeah, he looks like a ‘Jado.’

This revelation of Jado’s discontempt is unsurprising— and not unexpected. “He doesn’t know me,” you say. Asking a question of why would be inane, you already know the answer.

“Well… none of us do. You’re an aruetii.” That moniker makes your stomach churn, but her lack of malice allows you to diminish the feeling of dejection quickly. “But that’s not inherently a bad thing. We’ll all get to know you soon enough.”

…What?

She continues, nonchalantly, “Djarin and the Alor trust you; so that’s all that matters. Aruetii or not.”

You continue to work, letting a short-lived silence settle between you, before she speaks again. “I’m Odona. Clan Drii. Unfortunately, Jado’s a part of it too. My little vod.”

You listen as her spiel drags on, leaning in to signal she has your attention, “We both usually work on the ships here, but he’s still pretty new at it— and I haven’t worked with many Pre-Imperial ships. When I heard that you were coming, after being on Djarin’s ancient me’sen?” She raises both her hands dramatically, “Briikase tuur. Happy day.”

Listening to this Mandalorian monologue feels like an oxymoron— given the usual disposition of your companion, and the general taciturn reputation that all Mandalorians seem to hold amongst the outsiders. Regardless, her comment and theatrical gestures make you grin.

“Don’t tell me you’re another ‘strong and silent’ type… Djarin’s sulking is enough for me.” That makes you laugh.

He does sulk a little, doesn’t he?

Smiling, you finally respond, “No. I think I’ve just grown accustomed to the sulking.”

Odona snorts. “Sorry to disappoint you, but you’ll get none of that from me. You’ll replace Jado for now, we’ll likely get more accomplished that way.” You’re not disappointed, the change of pace will be interesting— a new opportunity to learn a lot from. You feel a little prideful, knowing that she’s pleased with your knowledge and ability.

Before Odona can begin another monologue— and perhaps to disprove her claim of yours and Din’s shared hobby of sulking— you seize the chance to ask a question of your own. “I’m surprised by how many ships are here— but why are so many of them stripped out?”

Her hands stop, a pause in her tinkering as she ponders your enquiry. With a tilt of her head, she finally answers. “Whenever we get a new ship, it gets…” she hesitates for a moment, attempting to better articulate herself, searching for the precise word; “...triaged.”

Interesting connotation.

You suggest, “...As in, you decide whether to fix it, or scrap it for parts.”

“Exactly. We don’t have the resources to fix everything. It’s best to spend our time efficiently— focusing on the ones that will yield the greatest benefit in the long run.” The explanation is sound, yet Odona sees your underlying confusion still present. She asks you, “Why?”

Din would blow a fuse if someone tried to strip the Crest… again… Damn Jawas.

You point in the direction Din and Jado wandered towards, “I can see why he landed the Crest over a mile away from here.” Odona chuckles at the light joke, and you continue, “But— people are… okay with their ship getting scrapped?” On the surface, the concept almost sounds absurd. For Din, the Crest is another home. Everything meticulously ordered, from his weapons to his food stocks. Despite the frequent abuse his ship endures, he works to ensure its continued functionality, it’s almost a second layer of armor, one he cares about greatly.

“Well, no one has a personal ship— whenever any newcomers settle into the covert, any ships they once owned join the tribe’s fleet,” Odona explains.

Your brows furrow. They just give away their ship to the covert?

She elaborates more. “I guess it could be difficult for someone outside of…” she gestures to your surroundings, “...this… to understand. We share things— me’dinui— do what we can to contribute to each other, to our community.” She shrugs, watching you, gauging your reaction. “A ship doesn’t mean anything… But supporting your aliit? Your family?” She pauses again, her voice passionate, “...It’s everything. All we truly have is each other.”

In a galaxy so wrought with selfishness, greed, and ‘survival of the fittest’— the thought of anyone doing anything for a collective good is almost inconceivable. And yet, hearing the emotion of her voice, listening to her speak of the tenets you see Din adhere to so unfailingly, the concept of unity seems more tangible, more apodictic.

Setting down the tools you have in hand, you softly lament, “Sadly, I think I’ve become a little jaded to that idea...” you look at her, hoping to meet her eyes behind her visor, “...but I’m open to having my mind changed.”

You nod at her, and she does the same. In a familiar tone, Odona enounces, “Solus mhi oyacyi— this is the Way.”

—

Upon Din’s and Jado’s return with the necessary parts, Din extends a hand to you to help you rise from the ground.

As you stand, Odona quips “Making me do all the work with these?”

And with Din’s reply— “We have other matters to attend to;” you make your way towards the exit, giving Odona a wave, and she returns with a nod.

As you both close the heavy metal doors of the shop behind you, the hush of the cavern is jarring— the noise of the chaotic banter suddenly silenced. You’re only left with the sound of your blood whooshing in your head, and again, the persistent gelidity of the cave air forcing a chill up your spine. You exhale, removing your hands from the door, and slowly turn around to face Din. You stare at one another for a moment, before taking another breath.

“Odona said you sulk too much,” you say, your voice light and soft, to break the quiet tension without dissettling the quiescent chamber.

He huffs at your teasing remark and tilts his head, “...It seemed like the two of you were getting along?” He matches your volume, inquiring gingerly.

There’s worry in his voice, you recognize. Lingering feelings of contrition for the unnecessary antagonism Jado had given you. It must be strange for him, you contemplate, this role reversal of sorts. Outside these walls, he’s a living embodiment of minatory. In his day-to-day, he has to make an effort to appear benign to sociable strangers— whilst you, on the other hand, are as regular as any other citizen in the galaxy— posing passivity is the goal, a fine balance between being amicable but guarded. But now, in his enclave, you have to think and behave as he does when he interacts with everyone else in the galaxy— an intriguing juxtaposition.

You smile, “Yes, she’s interesting...she reminds me of Peli.” That’s not all he wants to know. It’s another tacit question, a chance to tell him how you feel without him having to ask. You take a step closer, letting your eyes meet his visor, “She also assured me that continuing to ignore her brother’s jibes is the best course of action.”

He sighs, and his shoulders drop. “I told him not to do it again.”

Din isn’t good with words. He’s curt, sometimes to the point of being tactless. On Sorgan, when faced with the obligation of informing the villagers of their predicament— Bad news, you can’t live here anymore— his delivery, at best, was uncouth. Nice bedside manner— Cara had told him, which earned a chuckle from you. He usually thrives more in one-on-one interactions; he can be amenable— kind, even. He ensures to give people thanks when necessary, listens to others without interruption; and attempts to be a calm presence, especially in times of turmoil.

Where he excels, however, are in his actions. Whether it’s the softer things— letting the Child grip his finger for comfort, a gentle hand to help you; or the more intense things— fighting his way through an army of Imperials to ensure the safety of his aliit, Din shows his care through his actions. He didn’t protect you from the enmity of his cohort because he thought you were incapable of vying against another Mando’ade. He wasn’t attempting to patronize you— but rather displaying his respect, to not stand idly by when someone is attempting to ostracize you.

His care is a reverent kind, one he conveys with both his body and his mind, a message given with nary a word spoken.

You stare into him once more, hoping to meet his eyes. You grin, and give a soft “Thank you.”

He doesn’t respond, he simply nods.

You gaze at one another for a few moments, before you nod your head to the side, gesturing to him to start walking; just as he did to you the day prior. Together, you walk beside each other through the various halls and passageways— working to build a mental map of the cave system— until you reach the medbay.

It’s a small room, one equipt to host only a few residents. Along the chamber walls are privacy shields— drawn to create different spaces for individual patients. Towards the back are tall shelves of med supplies— anything from syringes and needles, blood tubes, to disinfectants, gauze, and kits for intravenous fluids— supplies that would allow for basic blood tests, and treating minor to moderate wounds. Near the entrance sits another Mando, the baar’ur— their armor a deep green with teal sigils along the side of their buy’ce; holo pad in hand, seemingly deep in focus.

The sounds of your footsteps pull her attention. “Ah, su cuy'gar, Djarin, it’s been a while. How’s your ik’aad?”

He extends a hand for her to grasp, pulling her from the ground. “Fine. He’s with the other ade.”

She looks at you, “Jatne vod, I’ve been waiting for you to arrive.”

“I hope I can assist.” You give her your name, she replies with her own; Mavis.

She sighs, exasperated. She points to the first room, “One of the idiot cabure just showed up for the third time in two weeks, and…” She stops, and takes a deep breath, trying to ease her agitation, “... and I don’t want to deal with him again.” She holds the holopad out for you to take, “Can you handle this for me?”

Reading through her notes, you skim over some of the details.

G: He is in no apparent distress. He is alert and oriented

S: No open fracture or bony abnormality

E: Laceration to left shoulder, 15cm x 1 cm, simple, shallow

A simple laceration… “No sutures or staples?” You ask.

“No. Just use a tissue adhesive— I would have just made him do it himself; but he can’t reach it.” Her annoyance seeps through her voice again, “So, don’t waste any bacta on that,” she replies, pointedly. She mumbles under her breath, shaking her head, “Kad knows that utreekov will be back here next week.” She looks at Din, who gives her a sympathetic shrug.

She must be the only medic here.

You nod in understanding, “...I’ll take care of him, Mavis.” You turn around to walk towards the room, reading through the rest of her notes. Din and the baar’ur carry on in conversation as you approach the line of privacy shades.

Standing before the first room, you use the corner of the holo pad to tap upon the pole holding the curtain— a sound to alert the patient of your arrival, “Can I come in?” you ask.

A moment of silence greets you, before a deep voice answers “...Sure.”

Slowly drawing back the curtain just wide enough to allow you entry, you step in.

A familiar Mando sits before you. The idiot cabur.

The same idiot cabur you met yesterday— the very one that glowered into your karking soul like he craved nothing more than to break you in half. The sight of him makes your stomach sink— dread coursing through your bones, your nerves firing to prepare for his inevitable attack— skin electric, heart racing, blood cold.

You’re not safe.

You breathe, trying to will your voice to return once more. Taking a moment, your eyes scan up and down his form— assessing his position. He’s slouched, sitting atop the bed, one leg tucked underneath the other, a hand pressed against the injured shoulder. His pauldrons and chest piece sit beside him, his shirt half pulled over his form, revealing the nasty gash across his shoulder blade. Your eyes finally meet his visor— almost hoping to find his own beneath it, only to greet the same abyss that bore into you upon your first meeting.

Breathe. You nod at him, feigning nonchalance, “What happened?”

He observes you in return, tilting his head.

His gaze, though not predatory, reveals his intrigue. You’re enigmatic, oracular— he’s studying you, fixated on your features; searching for the apologues and adages that have sculpted your spirit— the flame of your psyche he yearns to succumb to. For a moment, he too is breathless, lost in the sea of your presence, desperate for a mast to secure himself to. He yields, finally looking away from you, to bring his attention to his injured shoulder.

He considers his response, and answers your question; almost timid, but with an obvious lightness to his voice. “I— uh… bravely protected the covert from an invader.”

You blink, and furrow your brows in confusion. You slowly shake your head at him. “No.” You reply, unconvinced. “Try again.”

He straightens his posture, looking at you once more. After another pause, he argues his second retelling of events. “Okay… again, I bravely rescued a Foundling lost in one of the Back Caves,” his voice less shy, but still chary.

His witticism begins to thaw the icy tension between you, reforming to liquescent diffidence— your pulse easing back to its restful tempo, the slight tremor of your hands gradually ceasing. You stride towards him, equanimous and assured, until you’re close enough to inspect his injury. A nasty gash, skin frayed along the edges, with smaller abrasions surrounding it— the beginnings of a bruise coloring the area. Dust and tiny shards of lava rock are settled on the skin throughout, peppering the wound. It looks painful.

Your eyes meet his hidden ones, desperate to conceal your amused grin he’s given you, “No,” you challenge, an insincere jest, “...last chance.”

He chortles, looking away again, almost bashful. “I fell,” he responds, resolute. “In the Back Caves… Lost my footing on an unsteady rock, and landed on a sharper one.” His coyish inflection shifting to one aflutter— in a moment of confidence, he returns his gaze to you, illuminated by your amused expression, having caught on to his jocular antics.

You nod, and try to hide your simper, “That sounds right.” You gesture to his shoulder, “May I?”

“Please.” He moves slowly, turning slightly, allowing you easier access to his shoulder.

With the wound in full view, you work to treat him.

It only takes but a few minutes to clean the area, the two of you spend that time in silence. He fidgets, not in a way that indicates he’s in pain— but rather that he’s unnerved, nervous, even mousy. This massive Mando’ad sits beside you with such tension in his form, as though he’s bracing for an impact; on the precipice of the inchoate attack— waiting for the aruetii to spit their vitriol, to exploit his vulnerable position and leave him more scathed than when he arrived.

With your hands gently pressing over his shoulder blade, sealing the adhesive in place; he releases a long held breath, the anticipated aggression absent. The tautness of his muscles gives way, highlighting their definition across his back as he decompresses. Stop looking. His heat radiating into your palms, a warmth you’ve been starved of since entering this frore catacomb, you’re reluctant to pull away— longing to linger in the intimacy of this untrodden amity that has just scarcely begun.

Slowly, you will yourself to retreat, discarding the soiled gauze and removing your disposable gloves. “Does the brave cabur have any other battle wounds?” You tease, disrupting the prolonged silence.

“No, ma’am,” his tone reveleaving the alacarious smirk hidden behind his buy’ce. As you turn away, he maneuvers his arm back into his shirt. He continues, “...thank you. Vor entye.”

You look back to him and nod, “Of course.”

Just as the silence settles again, and you attempt to leave, he recommences. “Before you go…” He waits for you to stop, “I was hoping to speak with you?” His inflection returns to one of timidness again; but he sits straighter, his legs wide and relaxed, his hands resting over his thighs. Even without his armor, his broad form fills the space around him. Don’t ogle. “We didn’t get to talk much yesterday.”

Difficult to chat when you think you’re about to die. “No, we didn’t.”

His voice turns gentle, almost placating, as if he heard your thought. “I’m Ikarus, a guardsman for the covert. The other cabur was Sabe.” He breathes, tilts his head, fidgets like he’s considering every word before he says it. “It’s our duty… to ensure the safety of everyone here. Including you.”

You’re frozen in place, refusing to cross the threshold to him again, despite his words wanting you to ease yourself closer.

“I—” the words are trapped in his throat, “I failed that duty yesterday. I failed you.”

He pauses, looking down to the floor, gathering his thoughts once more. “I’ve been here a long time. We’re very careful who we allow in here. Having a new Foundling and an outsider come in like this is unusual, to say the least.”

He looks to your face, meeting your eyes, “But this… inordinate circumstance… doesn’t give me the right to scare you. Being leered at by a giant, armed, faceless stranger should not have been your first impression of us… of me.”

His guilt bleeds into his speech, a sadness overcoming him. “I’m sorry.” For a moment, Ikarus envisions you, the terror in your eyes upon your first meeting, your protectiveness of the Child, of Djarin shielding you from his ravening presence, keeping you away from him. “Ni ceta, I’m sorry.”

You stare at him, speechless, in awe of his confession.

Ni ceta. I kneel.

A rare, groveling apology you had only heard once before— in an unfortunate situation with Din that left you both upset— he found the Basic phrase I’m sorry could not express his attrition wholly. He had explained the Mando’a words to you; their connotation, their significance. Kneeling, you learned, was one of the highest forms of respect to another Mando’ade— not only a display of humility, but reverence, obedience; and at certain times, even submission. Whilst his genuflect never came, his declaration was enough for you both to reconcile.

But the person before you is not Din Djarin.

Having a man like him brought to his knees would be a sight to behold.

In a moment of boldness, you slowly step towards him— soft on your feet— until you stand a mere meter apart, never looking away from where you presume his eyes to be. In a quiet, demulcent tone— barely above a whisper; before you can even think to reconsider your words, you ask him, “Are you going to kneel, Ikarus?”

Thence, he is in free fall. Your emollient voice and temerarious inquiry luring him into the vast unknown of you— succumbing to the pull of your orbit, the fire of your spirit. In an instant, his body relaxes— his eyes bore into yours, as he slowly rises from the medical bed to his full height, before bending the knee to kneel below you. After a moment, he extends his hand for you to grasp. Whence his hand grips yours, he answers your question in kind; “Ni ven’ceta par gar ratiin.”

Thanks for reading!! If you’d like to be notified when I post a new fic, be sure to follow @writerlyhabits-library + turn on post notifications! 💛

To show this author your direct support, go ahead and check this story out on A03 + leave some kudos and a nice comment 💜

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #mando'a #original mandalorian characters #they're my favorites #i love them #shereshoy series #shereshoy sister fic #not my writing #i have permission to post this

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highwaytothedangerzone502 · 3 months

Text

Foxtrot Alpha Alpha - Chapter 30

Pairing: Hangman x Female OC

Word Count: 1559

Warnings: Talk of death

Summary: Hangman learned his lesson a long time ago to never show his true feelings when someone's words or actions hurt him. To do so showed weakness that could be exploited, and Seresin men couldn't show weakness. Of course, there was an exception to every rule, and Jake's always came in the form of women, three in particular: his mom, Juliette Kazansky, and the girl whose name he could no longer bring himself to speak. She was the girl that got away; she was his biggest 'what if' and his biggest regret; she would forever be the ghost that haunted his dreams. Jake believed that's where she'd stay, for he would surely never see her again after what he did.

Or so he thought.

Notes: This is the sequel to India Lima Yankee; I'm using the same callsign for the Female OC as in Ghost Story because I just really like it, but they are different characters; chapters in italics are flashbacks.

Chapter Songs: Different For Girls Red

****

Ghost

The door flung open, and Juliette Kazansky said in relief, "Oh, thank God you're here."

Ghost raised an eyebrow as her friend practically dragged her inside. "What's wrong?"

"My husband is about to drive me insane-"

"Because someone needs to go to the doctor but won't!" Rooster shouted from another room, his tone more snappish than Ghost had ever heard directed at Juliette.

Jules stared up at the ceiling in exasperation, as if she could see through the plaster and wood all the way up to God. "The Lord is testing me today."

"I heard you had a bad night," Ghost said casually, kneeling down to pet the dogs, who had already flopped onto their backs for belly rubs.

"That's putting it mildly. The lack of sleep is making both of us a little testy." Juliette rubbed her temple and rested a hand on her belly. "The babies are having a wrestling match right now, too, naturally only when the nausea's finally abated, so now, I can't sleep because of that."

"Are you sure you want me over right now?" Ghost inquired, standing up and looking her friend up and down, concerned about Juliette's paleness. "Because I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you look awful."

Jules snorted. "Thanks. But yeah, I'm fine. Just running on no sleep. Enough about me, though. Firstly-" she stepped forward and embraced Ghost in a hug so tight, the aviator could barely breathe- "I'm so sorry about your dad. Whatever you need, I'm here for you."

It dawned on Ghost that Jules had recently lost her own dad, less than a year ago, so the feelings were still relatively fresh for her too. She would understand more than anyone. "Thank you. Right now, I think I just need to be around friends. I can feel myself moving towards isolation, and I can't do that."

"If you need to be alone, that's okay. As long as you know you have people waiting for you when you're ready to come back."

Ghost smiled gratefully at her friend. "I appreciate it."

"So, do you want to talk about it or no?"

"There are multiple things I could talk about. Which one are you referring to?"

"Hangman."

Ghost sighed heavily. "Not much to tell. I was planning on staying at his when we got back, we started drinking, started kissing-"

"You two kissed?!" Juliette exclaimed, eyes lighting up.

"Briefly before I cut it off and laid into him. I tried to get him to finally tell me why he never came to visit me after the accident, why he only tried to talk to me after the trial, but he froze. And then I walked out." Ghost walked into the living room with Juliette on her heels. The girls plopped onto the couch, and the dogs joined them. Lightning practically crawled into Ghost's lap as she asked, "What did Hangman text you?"

"He just said: I fucked up. Ghost needs you. I tried to get him to elaborate, but he wouldn't respond. The only other response I got from him was when I asked if he was okay, to which he replied,' I'm fine,' the universal sign that someone is the opposite of fine."

"Thank you for having Coyote check on him. I should've done that first thing, but I was selfish and-"

"Hurting," Juliette added gently. "You've been through a lot lately, Ghost."

"So has he, but he still sent you to check on me. I waited twelve hours before it even dawned on me. I don't even understand why it bothers me so much that I didn't do that for him, but I am, and-"

"Because you love him," Juliette said simply. "Believe me, I understand that infuriating conundrum."

"God, it makes me want to rip my hair out."

"What do you say we sit back, ignore our problems, I have Rooster bring you wine and me some apple juice so I can at least have the air that I'm drinking an adult drink, we put on The Proposal, and both forget about our current problems? We can deal with them later."

Ghost wholeheartedly agreed to the plan. Juliette shouted for Rooster, who shuffled tiredly into the room. He smiled at Ghost, but it didn't reach across his face like it normally did. She'd have to corner him about that later, although she suspected it had to do with Juliette's health. Ghost would keep her own concerns to herself for now, but her friend's wan pallor worried her, too.

Juliette politely requested the girls' drinks and added gently, "And then get some sleep; Ghost is here to watch me, okay?"

Rooster obeyed, grabbing their beverages from the kitchen and handing them to the girls. He kissed Juliette on top of the head before padding to their bedroom.

"He would not have done that without argument had it been anyone but you," Jules said quietly once she assured herself her fiancé was out of earshot.

"Oh, I'm sure if it were Maverick, Penny, or Phoenix, he would've."

"Yeah, because he's slightly scared of Phoenix, although he'd never admit it, and Penny and Maverick are adults in his eyes."

"But he's an adult?"

"They're adultier adults."

Ghost laughed but said nothing else, settling into the cushions and proud of the fact Rooster trusted her with his future wife so implicitly when he hardly trusted the qualified professionals.

Watching the movie turned out to be just the distraction Ghost needed, and when the girls hit 'play' on another one, she and Juliette fell into such deep sleeps that they had to be roused by Rooster for dinner. Neither had heard him enter the kitchen, clang pots and pans around (which he claimed was accidental), or when the timer went off on the oven. He'd made a delicious chicken dish, prompting Ghost to ask, "When did you learn how to cook?"

"I started taking some classes, but if that-" Rooster motioned at the three of them with his fork- "ever leaves this table-"

"Your dirty little secret is safe with us," Ghost promised, "especially since those classes seem to be paying off. This is delicious."

Rooster beamed at the compliment, and when their plates were scraped clean, he took them to the sink. The girls chatted while Rooster cleaned the dishes. He jumped into the conversation when he felt the need to put in his two cents.

During that meal, Ghost realized what Godsends the Bradshaws had been, allowing her to hang out with them to distract her from her woes. Between finding out Maverick might be her dad and the silence from Hangman when she asked him the question that had eaten away at her for years, Ghost considered the success of the Bradshaws' distracting abilities no small feat.

Around nine, they migrated to the living room. Juliette gently lowered herself onto the couch, and while she smiled, Ghost could tell her friend was having a bad day with the pregnancy. They talked for a couple more hours, and when Rooster left to use the restroom, Ghost asked, "Do you want me to go? You look like you're struggling right now."

"No, no, I'm fine," Juliette insisted, waving her hand dismissively. "Just a little nausea. Besides, I'm enjoying our conversation."

"Jules-"

A ringing cellphone interrupted the conversation. The girls shared a confused glance, wondering who on earth would be calling that time of night. Juliette grabbed her phone and answered, "Hello?"

A deep man's voice spoke on the other end. Juliette's brow furrowed in confusion when she replied, "Uh, no, this isn't Ghost. May I ask who's calling?"

"What's going on?" Rooster queried upon returning to the room and noticing the girls' expressions. Juliette held up a finger to silence him.

"Hang on, let me get her for you," Juliette said. She handed the phone to the female aviator, stating, "It's a bartender?"

Ghost frowned. "Hello?"

"Is this Ghost?" The man responded gruffly, sounding slightly exasperated.

"Yes. Who's this?"

"My name's Mickey Whitley; I'm a bartender at The Riptide. I have a customer here, a Jake Seresin, who needs a ride home because he's smashed and- no, you're not playing darts! You can't even stand!" The man exclaimed suddenly. He groaned and returned to the conversation. "Sorry, your friend wants to play darts, and if he throws one, it's more likely to turn into a freestyle acupuncture session than a darts game. Can you come get him? I can help get him to your car, but I'm cutting him off because he's gonna kill himself if he drinks anymore."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll head over now," Ghost said, standing up and hurrying to the front door. Rooster and Juliette followed. "I'll be there in ten."

Hanging up the phone, she returned it to Juliette and explained the situation, adding, "Rooster, I hate to ask this of you, but could you help me pick him up? If Hangman's as drunk as the guy said he is, I won't be able to get him home, let alone keep him stable on my bike."

"Of course," Rooster said, reaching for his keys. Juliette swiped them before he could. "What are you-"

"Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm useless. I'm coming with you to help. He gave the bartender my number after all," Juliette argued. "Come on. I'm driving."

****

Tags: @lgg5989 @shanimallina87 @polikszena @summ3rlotus @icemansgirl1999 @supernaturaldawning @thedarkinmansfield @lyannaforpresident @lapilark @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth @simpofthecentury @shadeops21 @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @double-j @bradshawsandbridgetons @catsandgeekyandnerd @peachiicherries @multifandomcnova @fandomsstolemylife00 @bookloverhorses @mak-32 @midnightmagpiemama @luckyladycreator2 @ellamae021 @kmc1989

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landinrris · 4 months

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I need to get my soapbox out for this one. I can’t not agree with you more on the twinklaren and mctwinks terms. It just gets my knickers in a twist for multiple reasons.

1) twink is historically meant to be a thin, white, young gay man.

A)While neither driver has declared their sexuality publicly, Oscar is in a straight relationship with a women, and it doesn’t feel right to use a gay term to refer to him. Lando has dated at least one woman in the past and has never said anything different. I really don’t like using a term for a gay man for Lando since there is so much open speculation about his sexuality and using the term seems like a presumption on our part. If he is something other than straight, he can make it public or not in his own time.

B) Using a term that refers to the body shape of anyone male/female/other doesn’t feel great either. Especially since they are not the stereotypical thinness of a twink. They are incredibly fit muscular young men who spend a lot of time and effort on their physical fitness for their jobs. I don’t think we should be referring to their body shapes in general but especially not calling them them as thin/waifish as that promotes a muscular body standard for men who have a thinner body type that is difficult to obtain.

2)I know shipping them is popular, but the use of twink makes certain assumptions about their sexuality and is strong on the shipping side of things. I personally feel that shipping should stay in rpf and certain online communities and not in spaces they can see. When I see these terms used in instagram or twitter under the official McLaren accounts it feels icky. The whole Oscar heart eyes thing under Mclarens instagram account is out of control.

3)I am a straight female. Using a term that is from the gay community and that I don’t know the deep history and meaning up just feels icky as well. I would never go up to one of my gay friends and say “oh you are such a twink” so why would I think it’s okay to use it online?

My suggestion for a change. I think we can still keep the whole fun word play, but just change it a bit. Turn it into McTwins and TwinClaren. They do have similar features and similar mannerism. The twinning is cute, and doesn’t have any underlying commentary on their sexuality or body types. It’s almost more brotherly, the idea of twin brothers. It would take a lot of the ick out of it for me.

Anyway, stepping down from my soapbox now. Sorry for the rant

This sums up a lot of my feelings really well. I love your soapbox and you should never get down.

Among all the points you listed here, I never go into comment sections because it's always a hellhole, but seeing you say people comment twink- and heart-eyed-related things makes me want to die. People (both fandom and admins at this point) lose boundaries more and more every day.

I personally don't ship Lando and Oscar (though that's not news), nor do I think they really even look like each other apart from both being young white guys with dark hair, but a change in how people refer to them as a pair would be welcome in my eyes. I will personally keep tagging their joint things with "sibling behavior" because you're right, their relationship is very brotherly in my eyes.

#ask

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limeade-l3sbian · 28 days

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i am extremely anxious bc on one hand, i never held any hatred for trans ppl/trans women but i do have a brain and so i do know what a male and a female is, and i also know what a lesbian and a gay man is, so i understand that most cis lesbians only want pussy bc the act of sex and sexual attraction is centered around the body and same-sex attraction is a real thing. however, i feel like im being gaslit every time i interact with the average (usually white) queer person bc i have to pretend like i dont know what i know, like i dont have eyes, like homosexuality doesnt exist, like biology isnt real actually, bc if i dont, i’m labeled a bigot. im tired.

i believe that trans ppl deserve to live in peace. however i don’t believe that homosexual cis men and women have to fuck them to validate their identities. and i feel like the average off-line person believes this. i feel like the average person both believes in trans rights and also maintains that homosexual people are same SEX attracted. hell, i have a nonbinary friend that only likes pussy.

idk why i’m ranting in ur inbox. mainly i’m frustrated. im frustrated bc i don’t see gay men being policed the way lesbians are being policed when it comes to how they speak about their attraction. i’ve never heard someone refer to males as ppl with dicks. and i’m frustrated bc i can’t call it misogyny without being accused of victimizing myself as a cis woman. and im even more tired that black women are always used as talking points during these trans debates.

it’s making me upset bc i feel like most trans folks don’t hold these beliefs. i’ve seen a trans man go on reddit and admit that he doesn’t enjoy being in the community bc of these backward beliefs and policing and sometimes predatory behavior, and i’ve seen other trans folks admit that they agree. yet i have to pretend like i don’t see it? like what we call ‘queer theory’ doesn’t have real ideological, misogynistic, and often racist issues? and i can’t call this without being called a terf when i don’t even hate trans women? i just want women to be able to talk about the oppression they face without giving several disclaimers (and yes, this includes cis women bc they still face oppression like hello), and i want black women to stop being used as talking points when we’re real people, and i want everybody to leave lesbians alone…

anyway sorry for going off. i’m drunk and thinking a lot and i feel like this is where i can get my thoughts out without being shot on sight.

No apology needed. I'm just sorry I got to this so late. Talk your shit, girl.

#ask

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aro-iceland · 3 months

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not really a drawing request but id love to know more about your ocs??? from what you’ve posted they look amazing??

Thank you VERY much!!! i forgot how much i love to talk about them

(sorry for the old art or picrews, i am too excited to not talk about them and simultaneously not patient enough to redraw them)

All picrew links: Kit + Kevín + Lilly Annalise Piper + Cecily Mikael + Claire Princeton

here's a general overview of everything that exists:

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

part 1: em groups

you should at least be vaguely familiar with my em. every single au and whatever hetalia character i feel like grabbing for that day goes in there. interesting little tidbit that somehow hasn't come up so far is that in more human AUs of mine he's part irish! ~20% of icelandic males and 60% of females actually have irish/keltic ancestry!!! ireland being his mom hc is going WILD in me. he's also very magic because that headcanon singlehandedly started the ice obsession in me. how well in tune he is with it and how exactly it looks like depends on the au . i also make him closer friends with swe and fin because i can👍

(excerpt from my em content dedicated whatsapp group with just my (non-hetalia) best friend and me: )

le is there a lot because i love him so so much. incredibly phoenix coded man

there's also monaco, gwendolyn or gwenny to me. she's a permanent resident because i support women's rights (slaying) and wrongs (gambling addictions)

a notable not fully formed character is faroe islands! petra sometimes, emma other times. i genuinely don't know where those names come from. i heard the faroe islands and iceland being referred to as "kind of like twins" and as each othere's "best friends" *somewhere* and i am VERY normal about that too. oh SO normal

part 2: mikael's world

a fusion of 2 groups put into one world, connected by one flimsy tie. it's mostly analogous to real life but no homophobia👍

Group A: Pentagon

Mikael started out as a swedish micronation oc but we don't talk about that. he has a chicken called omelette because of inside jokes during... my wattpad era... shudders. i project onto him a lot and lots of his design is just wish fullfillment. while i love my ocs suffering and angst, because i put so much of myself in him, ultimately, his story is one of healing. major point of difference between us though is that his parents abandoned him and mine... didn't.do.that. 💀👍

Claire and Piper both actually started out as minecraft skins i made for fun!! and then i made them kith:3

Cecily and Kit were added becaue i felt like something was missing to complete the friendgroup!

Group B: menace club

Kevín and Lilly are my ACNL and ACNH side accounts...... and Annalise was some pretty trans woman i drew one day there's nothing much to this

Part 3: D&D

so.. confession: i haven't actually played d&d yet! but my friends love it a lot, i love a couple ttrpg podcasts so.. yeah i have a couple concepts!

The Leighlar Pilayden, or blueberry bitchfuck as i like to call him, Half Elf sorcerer who was abandoned as a babg and raised in a cult which, in a world with multiple deities, somehow ended up believing in the *one* that doesn't exist! he's a sorcerer but they all think his powers a blessing from their god

MY BABY MY SOBBING WET CAT SON! PRINCETON INTEKONA!!!

TIEFLING BARD I might get to play as him soon... negative strength, the only reason he has such a high charisma stat is because everyone pitties him... he accidentally ended up in a criminal gang... he plays the pan flute and bagpipes... pathetic baby

Part 4: Miscellaneous

All the Characters that are alone in their worlds!

(^aesthetic wise but he definitely kins larry)

Brian is the brain cell a friend and i are sharing and also the last one we have. he's a SOO overworked office worker. he has to handle EVERYTHING he's so exhausted please give him a break. he recently got a boyfriend. good for my him

Recently re-named Ailbhe used to be Avery and is a genderless, fully white skinned(as in colour not the skin colour we associate with the word. imagine porcelaine!) and neon yellow haired fallen angel/ex-demi-god!! not much lore but... lots of potential!!

Firenze is... idk he just happened in one history lesson in 2018 and now he's here. bunny boy with lots of responsibilities around the palace!!!

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

and ... phew. i THINK that's it? mostly? oh my god. if. there's anyone you wanna know more about... tell ME

#how in the actual fresh hell do i tag this?#trick question #i won't tag this!#except for this #of course

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roo-bastmoon · 2 years

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Just my 2 cts but some fans are either really young or just don’t spend much time around young men tbh… The things I read on sm about the members and Jikook always surprised me. as a woman with 2 brothers + spending a lot of time around my fiancé’s friends I think a lot of Armys don’t have much knowledge about men’s behavior in general(there are variations, of course). For them it’s either 1-the members are all bffs without boundaries hence why the recurrent "poly bts" joke- when the only two who have shown consistent lack of space/boundaries/romantic vibes over the years are Jimin and Jungkook 2- they’re dating every single women that are less than 10feet from them and that have worn the same trendy shirt or accessory or god knows what 3- they’re never ever dating women and only have very chaste thoughts haha4-they’re even less dating a man.. I have been around my brothers and my fiancé’s groups of male friends so much, they come from various backgrounds, ethnicities, a few are gay men, and they can be really touchy, tease eo all the time and flirt for fun (seriously, do these fans have spend even a tiny bit of time around a bunch of guys?) but they never gave eo hickey made a whole romantic video vlog of their trips suck on eo’s ears and all…. Men don’t behave like this with their friend/bestfriend. For real, spend time with men, just observe them around their friend. Take a look at JHope and Jin almost accidentally brushing their lips at an event (can’t remember which one it was) and the same thing happening a few times between Jimin and Jungkook: very different reactions, those two don’t seem phased at all… Or make your male friends watch GCF in Tokyo and ask them about it. men and women have a different vision of friendship I think (I know nowadays it’s not very popular to highlight differences between the two sexes..). I feel like as a lot of armys are teenage girls or young women, they project their own friendship with their female friends onto the members. It’s not that uncommon for teenage girls to have such a close relationship with their bestfriend that the boundaries between friendship and love mingle a bit (happened to me). Young men’s/young women’s friendships tend to be very different. I can be biased as well, but to me it’s pretty obvious that Jimin and Jungkook share a different kind of bond and their behavior/touches are usually more charged and clearly not usual at all for friends. Especially now that they have grown up and the boundaries between the members are increasing as you would expect for adults friends. They all share a close bond with a bit more skinship that we’re used to in the west but behind that aspect you can still spot patterns in behavior and for me no other duo has made me raise my eyebrows. Sorry for my messy English

Hi Nonie!

First off, your "messy English" made perfect sense so please do not apologize!

Second, I'm sure there's lots of nuances to gender, age, and culture at play here that many non-Korean and non-male Army are missing (I know I'm one of them). So it's natural to try to view and interpret things through your own lens because that's all you have for reference. But yeah, I often find myself thinking things like "Why didn't Jungkook mention Jimin's OST on his Instagram??" or "Why didn't Jungkook reach out to comfort Jimin when he was crying during Festa dinner?" Because that is absolutely what *I* would do if *I* were blessed by the gods to be in the same orbit as Park Jimin. But I'm a 43-year-old cis-het white American woman who has been conditioned since birth to demonstrate emotions and do emotional labor. I don't know any 25-year-old males that would constantly telegraph deep feelings the way that I would, even if they didn't have to contend with a glass closet.

If people watch original content (and sadly many don't, which baffles me) they will quickly see patterns in BTS that raise questions. Yes, there's just a TON of skinship among all of them (they kiss anywhere but the lips, they hug, they sleep in the same beds, they compliment each other's looks, they hold hands, they eat each others' food, the list goes on and on). And for some reason fandom seems to hyper-focus on the maknae and tries to compare the relationships among that line for "supremacy" (which makes me sad because there's overwhelming evidence they all truly care for and delight in each other, so pitting them against each other feels a bit sacrilegious).

For me, only Jikook does highly, highly suspicious stuff. Jungkook is super playful and affectionate with all his members, and Jimin is the human embodiment of loyalty and comfort, but the vibe completely changes when it's them with each other, versus them with the other members. Now, they aren't sharing as many glimpses into their personal lives these days so I don't have tons of recent examples (outside of concerts) but there are hints everywhere you look that they still mean the world to each other. But even if you wanted to dismiss years and years of their lingering looks, magnetic pull toward each other, intimate knowledge of each other, time off-schedule spent together, intertwined family and friends, and downright giddy flirting, the most telling aspect of Jikook is the way the other members react to them (especially Hobi and Joon, bless them).

This is my reaction every time I watch the rest of BTS tense up and hold their breath when Jimin and Jungkook are having a moment:

So yeah. I haven't been around young men in well over a decade. I'm ancient and an introverted recluse. I probably fall into the trap of filtering BTS' behavior through my biased lens all the time. But when I step back and just view the content independent of my own desires, what I see is that Jimin and Jungkook have something unique between them. The only way to discount that is to actively dismiss mountains of circumstantial evidence.

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sakamaki--perfect · 1 year

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Reiji like a sexy seme please please pleaseeee

Admin: Thank you for asking this awhhh! And so sorry this took so long. More than a month perhaps- but here it is! Also inspired by the thread with Quinn (@unfathomablebeings) if you look forwards to this kind of Reiji, refer to that interaction~

He's that kind of seme that will give e v e r y t h i n g his partner needs.

Yes, need. Not want. He might fulfill some of the wants that is pretty not-so-useless. But he won't give you all allowance.

He will have control over your life, as well. Decision makings will be on him. Though this isn't too healthy, he can't help but wish the best for you.

Although with males, he has some difference in treatments compared to women.

Like, the way you have soft yet sharp features. Not in a feminine way, but it stirs some interest in him. Such beautiful person/creature.

He just wants to trap you in his arms and study your body throughoutly. All parts of your body that can be used against youー

He would be confused at first because this is too..... unnatural for him.

Liking another male? He thought it was the care he had for them like he does for his brothers....

But it wasn't it. It wasn't just care, there was something else. There was want.

He wants to see every important decision you make and see you mess it up (or not) only for you to fix it or to ask him for help.

He wants to test your intelligence, debate with you, ponder with you, win over you, and maybe lose to you. But only to you.

He wants to believe that you are his light but as well as the darkness that will be the end of him.

Or perhaps just the balance he needed. He could see it in your eyes, he can't tell what it is but he wants you to be his.

It may be even more challenging than getting women and ladies, that riles him up even more. He wants to lure you into his trapー

But once you are in his possession, there's no returning.

He will be still as harsh with his disciplines. But mostly for his own satisfaction, not for public appearance like he does with females. He's not too demanding with it.

He can let his guard down around you more than he can with women. He can be more vulnerable, at times.

He'll be teasing just enough that it would leave you wondering what will he do nextー

He switches around the way he bites just to get various reactions from you. Which all of them are extremely cute.

He loves seeing you dressed in his clothes. They are ill-fitting but it gives him an illusion that no one will approach you like this: protected by him.

He will boldly hold hands and hug in public. Who is there to care anyways? Sooner or later, they will have to accept.

As a vampire, there wasn't any rule of not dating the same gender although the adam and eve project is purely for reproduction of a new race.

That's what he learnt throughout his days of studying, anyways.

When he finally have the resolve to reveal the relationship to his father ーas his brothers might've already know from the.... incidentsー he prepared for everything.

Hoping that the vampire king would've accept the relationship and bless themー his father values human cultures, anyways.

Whether he approves or not, he has already made plans. For both scenarios.

After all, he won't ever let you go. Not until death threaten their love. Even then, he will use his privileges as a vampire prince: make you into an immortal.

He accepts nothing other than happy ending.

“You.... You are an odd one. Making me feel this way. Making me feel, at all. You must take responsibility of these feelings. I'm not letting go of you”

#reiji sakamaki #sakamaki reiji #diabolik lovers #ask #sakamaki--perfect #dryams03 #headcanon #headcanons #𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼

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humbletumblecrudi · 2 years

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Hello, hopefully you don't mind a mashup request. Would it be okay to ask for both romantic and platonic from Genshin Impact? I am exactly 20 years old, so no need to worry about making me uncomfortable! I use They/Them pronouns so make people's lives easier and Idm what they refer to me as. I am bisexual, interested in both men and women equally.

My favorite dates spot would be either at home, cooking together and enjoying each other's company throughout the evening or a late night walk through the streets, holding hands or by arms. My love language is quality time, I simply enjoy spending time with my partner and try to help them out whenever they are busy with something that isn't impossible for me to do, for me paying attention to my partner's needs and feelings is the most important thing.

One of my biggest pet peeves is interruption during a conversation, it makes me feel as if I said something so boring that nobody wants to genuinely listen. I cannot stand people who are OFTEN late, if it happens once or thrice its fine, but if it's frequent then I'm starting to doubt their interest in hanging out. Being misgendered based on my voice is also a massive pet peeve to me, it's alright if the person apogizes, but if they continue to refer to me as opposite gender just cause " they are right " then I just want to leave and never talk to the person again, but it would be too immature of me. People who are insincere when it comes to apologies like " I am sorry that you feel that way, but that wasn't my intention " in the most nonchalant way just makes me angry— those are my pet peeves.

I don't really have an aestethic? I never really dug too deep into it, but if it means pictures that go well with each other— grey colors with castles, white flowers and plants in general.

It might seem weird, but my only hobby besides writing/reading is well... Let's say I go to a shooting range every week, I don't know why but the feeling of getting a middle mark in a piece of paper on the wall with an air soft gun makes me feel relaxed. It works as a stress reliever for me, besides I miss the target quite a lot and whenever it happens I just try to calm down and do my best at getting the "bullseye". It helps me get back to middle ground with emotions, plus people in there are really nice and supportive so it makes me come back every week. I used to carve apples in middle school though, but nobody was really into it so I just abandoned that hobby.

I don't mind a mashup with females or males! (I'm fine with both!—)

Thank you for taking part in my Mashups, I'm happy that you were my first! Two certain characters came to mind quite easily, and I hope you enjoy!

I Ship You With :

Jean Gunhildr ― Jean is slightly older then yourself and is very independent from her family, and she's overall a very sweet woman.

Jean's special skill in game helps her create extra portions of food in concern for her party members, and she'd be no different with you while on a cooking date in either of your homes. She's also very active in her city and while you might want her to relax after patrolling the city, she's willing the stroll through the city and afterwards with her. Let the wind lead you two away, she says.

Jean needs the assistance in her work, and she'll be nervous about it (like she's nervous of just handing her work off in general to anyone) until you tell her you just want to help. She might not hand much over to begin with, but the dwindling sun across the horizon spurs her to seek your help.

She's also a very patient and polite person, nearly never speaking over another unless it's correct or scold another person for wrongdoing. She won't do it often! And speaking of wrongdoing... she's sorry if she's late every so often, she has to run the Knights of Favonius and assign the nightly shift change and she's very sorry she's late. It won't happen again! And it doesn't, not often. She's very meticulous and she cares about you a lot, so she's not going to put work above you.

At first, when she met you, she tried not to use gendered language until Kaeya could properly introduce you (after all, Kaeya seems to know everything). Happily, she'll use the correct pronouns and nicknames after just the first meeting. "Dandelion" is her favorite, personal nickname for you. And if you don't like the nickname or want to change anything, she always apologizes first and earnestly during miscommunications!

Jean is always a supporter of reading and writing hobbies, but she's also (secretly) relieved you were into something that counts as self-defense. Being able to hit any shot is better then nothing (and a Hilichurl is much bigger then a sheet of paper) to her and she'll happily teach you about posture and shooting properly if you allow her. If you want/have another instructor or are trying to figure it out by yourself from here, she will back off and be a quiet supporter on the side.

Carving apples? No issue, just save what you carve in a basket and she can make you some apple cider or an apple based dish later! She also loves anything you carve... but fears the ants it might attract!

Your Best Friend Would Be :

Xiao (a.k.a Alatus) ― Your friend in this universe would be the Vigilant Yaksha himself, and he was very reluctant to do so to start being your friend... at first.

He would enjoy cooking time with you, but mostly because he doesn't understand why humans have to make everything more then a couple steps. Almond Tofu is an easy dessert for him and other's to make, but a Bamboo Shoot Soup makes him feel dizzy just watching you cook. Show him marinade and he'll freeze frame...

He first saw you and all he addressed you as was "mortal" and "human", so you might want to tell him while he doesn't use pronouns to tell him how to address you. He'll keep that in mind... human. In the beginning: it will almost always be, "human". But later, as he's much more relaxed and he'll use "you/your" and your name. It's a defense mechanism not to get too attached and he failed...

Xiao might be an offender of the "I'm sorry you feel that way" apologies, but only on matters he sees your not qualified to answer and he'll explain fully why he sees it that way. Example... If he speaks down upon demons but you strike back that he puts them through pain before death, he won't be offended but he'll still say, "I'm sorry you feel that way, but this is what my destiny is. My duty to the human race. It's all I know how." Literally won't use it anywhere else, though.

Is clear and concise on everything else! He would never be late to meeting you unless a demon needs slaying: and even then, all you need to do is speak his name. Xiao is also a very quiet and almost selectively-mute character outside of those he seems his friends: like Zhongli, the Inn-Keeper spies, and the Traveler. Being able to get a response from him is like 100,000 mora given from an anonymous source: it's almost heavenly, as he has much insight. Pessimistic insight, but he's willing to learn...

Also, he does give respect to any humans who can somewhat defend themselves. While Illuminated Beasts and other creations of Rex Lapis should have some semblance of battle and he won't tolerate mediocrity from them... he gives respectful nods to your practice and even gives you tips to help you. If you don't want help, he'll back away: he's not the assertive type anyways.

Will... secretly try and learn how to carve something himself. Maybe not apples (he doesn't want to copy)... maybe wood? His hands are stiff and inexperienced... maybe the lady at the front desk can give him tips on his gift to you.

#Mashups #Multifandom Mashups #Genshin #Genshin Impact #Genshin Impact Mashups #Genshin Impact x Reader #Genshin x Reader #Genshin Mashups #Jean x Reader #Xiao x Reader

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