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starfirette · 5 years ago

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Every Which Way: Chapter Seven

The Wayward Souls

⇢a/n:aksfjghdlfjknv i’M SO SORRY. pls forgive me for this being late, and also for how potentially painful it is

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⇢ Din Djarren x Reader/The Mandalorian x Reader | impregnation kink (smut) | mild violence | angsty ending | word count: 9, 287more or less idk anymore

🏷 @woterezwhet @talesfromtheguild @poupoupoupoupou @multifandom-fiasco @fandomqueen74 @fifiyau105 @shayna-winchester @mserynlarsen

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The gathering hall is filled with Mandalorians and their children, all eager to bid Din and his new bride goodbye. You felt dizzy as you thanked and hugged person after person. Din had given every child (who had formed a line) a warm hug. Your heart fluttered to see him hug younglings while still decked out in his armor. He had a fine way of holding them gently against the plates over his chest.

You watched from the sidelines; you didn’t mind that you weren’t being swarmed the way Din was. You liked to see this side of his life--the one side that could be his and his alone. How it truly warmed your heart to see Din give and receive such affections. You could see him tilting his head in to no doubt say his goodbyes to the younglings.

Wendi appeared at your side. She leaned up against the stone walls. “He’s always been a natural with them,” Wendi said in her melodic voice. Spinning a sheathed dagger between her fingers, she sent you a sideways glance, her helmet reflecting the light of the hall. “I’m surprised he hasn’t wrangled in a foundling by now. Even more surprised you’re not juggling babes by the dozens by now.”

You felt a furious blush loom across your cheeks. “What makes you say that?”

“Well,” she said in a purr, “you have been a rare sight aroudn these halls since your wedding. I can only assume that you’ve been ‘busy.’”

You graoaned. “This isn’t a conversation I want to have, with you of all people.”

“Aw, why not?” Wendi laughed. “You know lots of girls are jealous of you. Din is what we know to be a resident heartbreaker. I’m sure everyone is dying to know just how well endowed he is.”

“What does that mean?” you asked.

“You know what it means. The size, of course,” she says then.

“The size? Of what?”

“Oh sweet stars. Annie Aniri, I of course mean the size of his penis.”

“Ohhh,” you say as you realize. “I would say it’s normal sized. How big are they usually?”

Wendi let out a pained sound. She hesitated as she audibly tried to think of how she might word this. “It’s not often that they are decently large. In fact you could even say it’s hard to tell when it’s in. It’s what makes most marriages feel more like a punishment.”

You grimace. “I didn’t know that,” you groaned. “I think all I can really tell you without being too innapropriate is that he’s certainly on the larger side. I guess it really depends on the average size range.”

Wendi hummed as she thought. She held her fingers out, creating an invisible model that went about four inches wide. “Too big or too small?” she asked.

You winced. “Much too small,” you tell her. She went up a bit, but it still didn’t do Din justice. You finally adjusted her hands for her, and she let out a small gasp. “Annie, how are you still able to walk?” she cried out.

You stifle a laugh that wheezed way back in your chest. “You’re too embarrassing,” you told her when you could breathe. Wendi knocked her shoulder into your own. “I hope you two will have fun,” she says finally. “It’s not often we have a happy couple around here. Everyone is very happy for him. Despite all the trouble I give you two, I’m also happy for him. I don’t think there’s a better match for him in all the galaxy. You’re both terribly annoying, either way.”

“Much appreciated,” you tell her, meaning the words with all of your heart..

She held her hand out without really facing you. The dagger had become still in her open palm. “This is a going away present,” she says.”For some reason I have a feeling you’ll be getting into trouble out there.”

You could hear the vague amusement in her voice. You took the dagger and pocketed it after a brief examination. It’s dark silver with paracord wrapped tightly around the handle. “Thank you,” you say with a small incline of your head.

“Have fun in the world, Annie,” Wendi tells you. “But be wary of it. You never truly know what will happen.”

The Razor Crest lifted off the ground with a rumble you could feel under your feet. Leaning forward in your seat, you could see the figures of Gold and Paz preparing to depart back to the tunnels, waving the ship goodbye. Waving you goodbye. You waved back, half knowing they couldn't see you. They’d been kind enough to escort you and Din out of the city. Imagine the surprise in the trooper’s voices when they saw four Mandalorian’s leaving.

The sky cast around you like an endless sea; clouds wandered the sides of the ship as Din rose into higher altitude. The fog parted into the dark sky of what you knew had to be space.

You were completely enamoured with the sights that you hadn't realized time was ticking by. The stars weren't like you'd imagined. From the ground, the stars looked like close neighbors, but as you are among them you can see now that they are spread out farther than you would have ever thought possible.

When Din spoke, it snapped you out of your trance. His voice tethered you to your reality within the ship.

"What are you thinking?" he asks.

"That I should have paid attention the first time I was in space," you say. "I guess I had other things on my mind."

"It's very beautiful," Din comments.

You made a small sound of agreement. It really is.

Din pressed a few buttons on his dashboard. The engine hummed in the back of your mind as Din slowly took his hands away from the steers.

"Are you sure you don't have the force?" You tease him.

He gives you a look and you know it is exasperation that is behind his helmet. "Auto pilot," he ammends you.

"Ah, I suppose I should have thought that first,” you chuckle.

"My thoughts exactly," Din snickered back. He unbuckled the straps of his pilot's chair, rising to his feet and pulling off his helmet. He runs a gloved hand through the unruly waves of his hair. "Would you like a tour, Mrs. Djarren?" he asks with a crooked grin quirking his soft lips.

You slowly removed your seatbelts. "I've been on the Crest before, you know," you tell him pointedly. He helps you navigate out of the narrow cockpit with his hands gently on your waist.

"Not as my bride," he pointed out. "The ship should be your home away from the covert. Our home."

His words rang in your ears. You are grateful for the dim lights that hid your eyes which falter under the embarrassment. It's amazing that you could still feel embarrassed with your husband, even after everything you two had been through.

Perhaps it's the utter lack of people that has you feeling this way. You'd never really been "alone" before. The first trip, towards Nevarro, you were alone with Din but in a much different way. You'd been a much different person!

Now, you're alone with your husband. The man that you've grown to love so dearly. The man that warmed your bed!

You suppose you're not sure what you should expect from this trip.

Din guided you first towards the engineering bay. It sat directly beneath the cockpit. On the walls were the electric panels, as Din called them. He briefly explained how inside the panels were switches, or "breakers", that controlled the flow of electricity and power to the smaller utilities of the ship, like the lights and the stovetop. In a strange jar to the left is the storage bay. There’s enough food and clothes there to last for at least a month.

The hallway straight ahead were the cells that Din used for storage. He had lots of weapons in there. You were stunned at just how many weapons a single bounty hunter needs. It seemed on par with the entire armory at the covert, but condensed into four of the six cells. You recognized one as the cell you'd taken refuge in. Lined with pistols and spears, you had hidden inside and stayed there, sweating as the ship turned in violent spins to evade the Aniri ships.

It seems like long ago; practically a distant memory. And yet it's been a matter of months, hardly even three.

You asked Din what occupied the final two cells. He pulled back the doors to reveal a strange machine. You couldn't guess it's purpose after a few tries (and laughs from Din). When you gave up, he explained that he wouldn't have it if he didn't need it.

"What is it?" You asked, now unsure if you wanted to know at all.

"A carbonite freezer. It can freeze and keep lifeforms in perfect hibernation."

You looked at Din with incredulity in your wide eyes. "Are there convicts on this ship?" You asked in a low whisper.

"Not currently," Din said. "My mother told me it's impolite to keep frozen criminals so close to a lover."

You couldn't really laugh as you stared at the strange contraption.

"So it freezes people?" You asked as you ran a palm over the smooth, dark surface of the metal.

"It does. I can use it to transport bounties without worrying they'll cause trouble." Din sounded too calm to be saying such things. But you guess it's something all bounty hunters have to worry about. You cringed away from the freezer as you imagined the process.

"Does it hurt?"

Din shook his head. "No. It could be dangerous, though. It takes calculation."

You sank into his arms, which folded around your back to keep you tucked against him. "Mmm, my amazing husband is dangerous and calculating,"you grinned.

Din tipped your chin up with his forefinger. "Would you want it any other way?"

He pressed a warm kiss against the corner of your mouth, just below the crevice of your dimples.

He turned you around, to look at the freezer once more. “I’ve heard,” he muttered as he nestled his chin onto your neck, “that those coming out of hibernation feel ill. Feverish, shaky, even blind.”

“I’d hate to be frozen,” you said as you imagined the process. An endless sleep only to be followed by days of severe sickness.

“You won’t be,” Din promises you. “Not unless you’re a prisoner.” His hands rested over your stomach She.

"Wendi told me marriage is a lot like being a prisoner," you point out.

“Then you’re my prisoner, and mine alone,” Din whispered into your ear. “Shall I lock you up in a cell? Freeze you? Or should I let you attempt to negotiate?”

“Do you often negotiate with prisoners?” You ask.

“Only the beautiful ones,” Din says. “And you’re much more than beautiful.”

“You’re a scoundrel,” you giggled as Din nipped your ear. With his arm around your shoulder, he pushed you along towards the kitchen. It’s small, but it’s enough, with a cooler and a stovetop. Past the kitchen are the living quarters.

The lumpy bunk that was once propped into the corner has been replaced with a wider mattress, one that is surely capable of fitting both of you.

“You’re a sneak,” you sigh as you push onto the mattress with your hands. It’s so lusciously soft that you’re looking forward to falling asleep.

Din leaned up against the door jamb. “I couldn’t force you to endure that old excuse for a bed. Is the ship up to Mrs. Djarren’s standards?”

You felt pinned to the wall by his smile. His damn smile. The warmth of his eyes that crinkled under his smile seeped into you like warm cacao and cinnamon on a cold day. You could feel his gaze rush through your blood as he took a step closer towards you.

“Would you like to wash up?” He asked, his words a suggestive murmur. You nodded more eagerly than you would have initially liked to, but it earned a laugh from your husband.

You helped him out of his beskar, the ship still rolling softly throughthe cosmos in autopilot. The beskar is discared oto the bed, followed by your clothes. His hand slid into yours, and while you giggled, he led you into the refresher.

You’d remembered bathing in here for the first time when Din had saved you all that time ago. You recall being ecstatic by the warm water.

Steam rose between the walls as Din pulled into his hold. You sighed under the feeling of the everlasting heat. The water and his body could keep you comfortable for an infinite age of time.

The crown of your hair knocked against Din’s chest as the warm water streamed down your neck.

Din’s open palms curved around your breasts, thumbs tweaking your nipples while his lips sucked bruises over your neck.

Words of affection floated between the stream of hot water and the steam. His hands slithered down to your hips. He held you tightly, making you whimper in sheer anticipation. Even under the streams of water, you could feel your thighs becoming slick with arousal and excitement.

“Turn around,” Din murmurs in your ear.

You slowly turned, his hands never leaving your body. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him until he forced you to do so. His finger tapped the underside of your chin. “Are you my prisoner?” He asks, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down.

His dark eyes are filled with focus.

His looks are intoxicating. The brown scruff coming in along his jaw is scratchy, but you find yourself fond of the feeling it leaves between your thighs.

"I could be," you gasp.

You pull him down by his hair, forcing him into a rough kiss that made your heart pound.

Parting your lips to let his tongue sweep over yours, you moaned his name. You earned a low growl in response. The growl resonated way back to your throat.

Din’s hands raked down your back. He held you tightly, like he feared you’d be torn away with him at any second. All of his strength poured into his hold onto you.

You lifted your leg to grip it around his thigh. “Din,” you rasped against his mouth. “Please. It hurts.”

Your cunt ached roundt its own emptiness. You’d become swollen and your heartbeat pounded all the way to your clit. Something within you screamed to be filled and ravaged by Din. The thought of his cock slipping its way inside of you practically did the job itself.

Din’s eyes hardened as he grabbed you by the waist. You are pushed into the shower wall, then lifted with remarkable ease. He fixed your legs around him.

“I need you,” you gasped. The weight of his eyes on your body had become unbearable.

“You want to take me alraedy?” Din said in your ear. His voice is hoarse and thick and low, striking a pleasurable chord deep in your stomach. “You want my cock now?”

You nodded, sinking your face into the crook of his neck.

Keeping you hoisted with one arm, Din slid a hand between your two torsos. He gripped his thick cock in his large hand.

Looking down, you watched with strained eyes as he rubbed the tip of his cock into your clit. A strangled gasp pushed out of your mouth as he whispered more intimate words to you.

“You’re going to be a good girl and take it all?” Din asked. His rough voice wavered as he guided his cock into your cunt. You cried loudly at the feeling. The velvety walls of your cunt eagerly accepted Din’s cock, hugging around him tightly to feel as much as you could.

“My seed,” he grunted, “will stay inside of you all night. Will you give me children?”

His strong thrust knocked your hips back against the walls of the shower. You sank your teeth into the flesh of his neck as he rocked into you unrelentlessly.

“Will you bear all of Clan Djarren with your pretty hips?” he snarled into your ear. “Will you take my cock without question?” Your brain felt like it would short circuit at any minute. You could hardly stammer out the “Yes” you so desperately wanted to scream. The idea of it all made it all the more unbearable. You could feel him reaching for the stars of climax deep inside of you, hips snapping into yours loudly under the water. You whimpered his name as his arms kept you upright. His strong, smooth biceps flexed widely as he grunted against your skin.

“Ah, fuck, my meshla,” he swore loudly. As if he wasn’t moving fast enough already, his hips quickened their pace, snapping against yours with the loud slaps of wet skin to echo around you in the steam.

You couldn’t even process a coherent thought as you felt lost in the pleasure you’d been plunged into.

“Taking me so fucking well,” Din hissed to you, nipping at the lobe of your ear. “You want it?”

“Yes,” you stammered. You clutched against him as tightly as you could, your thighs and torso shaking violently as you lost control of your senses. The spasming climax burst in your stomach like an explosion of fire. You jerked in his arms, but he pressed you flat against the cold tiled wall with his smooth, broad test.

“Din, I want it,” you sobbed.

He groaned so loudly you felt the reverberations in your chest. His hips rocked so hard you thought he was going to split you completely in half.

As quickly as it had started, he spilled his seed into you, making you shudder and spasm closer into your hug.

Din buried his face into your neck, his laugh muffled by your skin. You both panted for breath for a solid minute. His cock remained hard inside of you, but any movement made you flinch and clench around him.

Din licked the sweet drops of water up your jaw before whispering into your ear, “Can you take it again?”

Laying in the bed, tucked into Din’s chest, you asked him, “What is the bounty we’re going after?”

His hand that played with your hair paused for a brief second before resuming the little swirls. “A man that’s wanted for evading debt.”

You nodded. “I see. That means he owes another man money, right?”

“Correct,” Din said. “We’re going to a planet called Bespin. The manciple of Cloud City, Lando Calrissian, has reported this man to be roughly a million credits in debt. I’ve heard the bounty’s name come up before. He’s most likely in deep debt with multiple people.”

“Frightening,” you murmured.

You kissed over the heart of your husband. Laying your ear over it, you could count the beats without even thinking. The rhythm sank into you so that your own heart eventually beat in perfect synchronization with your husband’s.

“Did you mean what you said about children?” you asked suddenly.

The rumbling of Din’s ship is all you heard for some time.

“Yes,” Din replied softly. “Since we married, I have been consumed with the image of you with my child.”

You chuckled, though feeling bashful. “I’m honored.”

“Meshla,” Din breathed. His fingers combed through your hair in the darkness. “I am honored. Honored to be your husband. Honored to be the one you’ve chosen to bear warriors with.”

You nuzzled closer into his arms. “I love you very much,” you say quietly.

“And I love you more than you’ll ever, ever now,” Din replied. “For now, let’s sleep. We can devise to make children tomorrow.”

With that being said, you were lulled to sleep by the humming of the engine and the beating heart of your one and only husband.

After two days, you and Din reached Bespin. You learned that ‘Cloud City’ is a literal name. Tucked in the fluffy clouds is an actual city, which Din explained prospers through mining.

Din explained that he suspected the city is being used by the Empire to operate trading posts. Because the city is known for its peace, Din said, their governor would likely cooperate with Lord Vader to keep his people out of danger.

The ship rumbled as landed on its cleared pad.

For a long moment, Din sat behind his steers. You watched him carefully; you wonder what he is thinking.

“Din?” you finally say. “What are you thinking?”

Rubbing his jaw thoughtfully, Din cast you a glance. “I’m thinking you should stay on the ship and wear your armor. I can’t say for sure that the city is under Imperial authority. It’s only a hunch. But I can’t risk your safety.”

You sent him a soft smile. “My doting husband,” you sighed. You unbuckled your self from the copilot’s chair. “I’ll be changing into armor. Will you be alright?”

Din nodded. “I’m going to meet with a few officers. They’ll give me their puck and then we can go after the bounty.”

You took his hand in yours before you left the cockpit. You pressed a small kiss over his glove. “I’ll be here.”

It is a struggle to dress in your plates quickly. Din showed you how to do it many, many times, but you’d never been able to do it as fast as he could, especially on your own.

Your small arsenal of weapons fits snugly around your waist. Your flute, your blade, and your pistol have been your constant companions since you’d been gifted them from Gold. It felt strange to be without her. Strange, but exhilarating.

You knew you would eventually find your way back to the covert when Din decided to take a break from bounty hunting. You looked forward to the moment you could see your newfound friends and tell them all of your adventures.

You left the bedroom in you beskar, the rosegold sheen blinding you in any sort of light.

You found Din in the engine bay, fiddling with what you presumed to be his puck.

You are both in your armor and helmets now; with your visor down, you felt like a proper woman. It made you feel safe somehow, like you could truly protect yourself.

“Where is he?”

“Off the city,” Din said. His voice is rougher through the modulator, much like yours. “It won’t take long to find him. Before that, I have something for you.”

You tilted your head. “Oh? I am sorry to say I don’t have a gift for you.”

Din chuckled. “It’s more for myself than it is for you, actually,” he admitted. He fastened something small to the tunic behind the breast plate. “A tracker. If anything happens, I can find you.”

You repressed a sigh. You wished you could ease his fears. You hadn’t realized how he felt until he had mentioned it before. He didn’t like the thought of you mingling with Imperials.

“It’s going to be alright,” you promised him. “It’s just a normal bounty. Only you have a supporter with you.”

He couldn’t help but let out a hearty laugh. “Wear it for me,” he said after catching his breath. “It will make me feel truly at ease.”

You couldn’t say no to that.

With the tracking beacon hidden behind your breast plate, you and your husband returned to the cockpit. Din let you hold the puck on the way off Cloud City. You hadn’t realized just how intense bounty hunting was until you fiddled with the puck’s features. You learned from Din that some pucks can be synced with the target’s genetic signature. This can allow any bounty hunter to track them throughout the galaxy.

When you’d noted just how intense that is, Din explained that is usually used for the higher rewards: murderers, serial thieves, other similar criminals. “Our guy,” he said, “isn’t that serious. He was just sighted a matter of hours ago. I doubt he’s ran off anywhere, especially if he has no money. I think we’ll find him just fine.”

You had started to hope that would be true.

The Crest took its landing ten minutes later, on a lower city thick with fog.

You had prepared to follow your husband, but he set his hands on your shoulders and warned you to stay put.

You sighed. “What if you need help? You may be able to track me, but I can’t track you. What if––?”

“Meshla,” Din sighed. “If I need help, I’ll call the ship’s comm. You can come find me then. Just stay put to guard the ship. I’ll need my loyal, supportive wife to stay here so I can bring the bounty back without any obstacles.”

It’s clear he knew what he was saying, as well what his words would mean to you.

You mimicked his sigh of annoyance. “I do not like that you’ve used my own supportive creed against me,” you told him sternly. “But I will stay. How long should you be gone before I get truly worried?”

Din thought about that for a moment. “At least,” he finally replied, “an hour. I give you full permission to come after me after two hours.”

You warned him you would come looking for him after two hour’s time. You would have liked to kiss him goodbye as he left the Crest, his hunting cape flying in the cool breeze as he did.

You proceeded to sit in the cockpit for your mandatory two hours. You tried to read a book you’d found in Din’s bedroom while you waited. You felt impatient, and you thus could not focus on the first paragraph, as your eyes continued to wander to the comm embedded in the steer’s dashboard.

It took almost the full two hours for Din’s voice to come through.

“I’m coming back. Be ready for us.”

You sighed loudly with relief. By Prince Melv’s kind, resting soul, you’d been very close to leaving the ship to go after your husband.

You waited at the ramp for him, your hand resting steady on your pistol sheathed at your thigh.

His voice finally called through the mist. You squinted, using the focus feature of your helmet to scan through the fog. Two figures were dragging through the thick clouds towards the ramp.

You ran after them, eager to help Din.

His bounty is being dragged in unconcious. As you hooked one of the limp arms around your shoulders, you debated asking him what he had done to the poor fellow.

You’d seen Din in action before; you wouldn’t ever want to be one of his bounties. You somehow feel he wouldn’t be as kind to them as he is to you.

You helped Din drag the bounty into the cockpit. The poor fellow’s body got slumped in a side chair. “Close the ramp,” Din asked you. “Leave your helmet on. If he wakes up, don’t even speak a word to him.”

You lifted a brow behind your visor. He didn’t look that vicious. “Is he so dangerous?” you asked in a low voice.

“No,” Din answered. “But I don’t trust him around my woman either way.”

You shook you head as you went to shut the ramp.

Rentering the cockpit with a glass of water from the kitchen, you found that Din had already tied the bounty up in the seat. “That was quick,” you noted as you offered it to him.

Din lifted the helmet up just enough to gulp the water down. He thanked you for it. Before you could leave to put the glass away, he grabbed your wrist. He rested his forehead against yours, the metal of either helmet clinking together like bells. “I am lucky to have such a supporter with me,” he murmured.

“Oh, Mando,” you sighed. You hadn’t used the nickname in a long time. It felt nice to say it now. “How romantic it is to hear you speak sweet things as we coddle one another in front of a criminal.”

Din howled out a loud laugh. “Just buckle yourself in. We’re returning to Cloud City.”

With the bounty still unconcious, the Razor Crest lifted up through the fog. You thought about many things on the ride back.

“Could I ask an unintelligent question?” you finally asked.

“Of course, though I seriously doubt it will be so bad,” Din assured you without looking away from his screen.

“Well, why is debt such a serious crime? I understand that it’s wrong, and of course why someone would want their money back. I’ve only thought that people should know the potential consequences.Wouldn’t that alone be enough to prevent such crimes?”

Din did not ridicule you for asking. In fact, he answered you perfectly. "Debt isn't often overlooked," Din says. "Many times, people are in debt due to high interest rates or deep end gambling."

"Why gamble if they know they can't pay what they'll owe?" You asked.

"It can be addicting for some people," Din explained. "They will give themselves the benefit of the doubt, thinking they have a good chance at winning a sum. Eventually, they owe more than they had originally hoped to win."

You cast a glance over your shoulder, looking to the bonded man in the spare seat. He hasn't come to, not yet, and you're half dreading the moment he does.

Din could take him easily enough; though you still feel unnerved to be in such a small space with a wanted criminal.

The rational voice in your mind knows nothing bad will happen. The hard part is done, at least.

The landing pad is cleared for Din's use over the Razor Crest's commlink. You watch the clouds out the window as Din descends through them, lowering the ship slowly onto the pad.

The ship rumbled as Din shut down the engines. You looked back at the bounty.

"Should I come with you?" You asked as Din unbuckled.

He stayed silent as he leaned forward, examining the surroundings of the Crest.

"It's not very crowded," he noticed. "I'd feel better if you stayed aboard the ship," he finally says. "Be careful."

"Shouldn't I be telling you that?" you asked him with a small smile. He seemed to hear the affection as he leaned over your seat. He pressed the forehead of his helmet against your own, resting like that for an easy moment.

"I'll be back soon," he assured you.

He approached the bounty calmly, bending down to use his hand to carefully slap the man awake.

The man awoke with a great start, jerking back into his bindings in a panic to get away from Din.

“Knock that off,” Din warned him. “Get on your feet. Meshla, stay here,” he called to you.

You nodded, not saying a word as you recalled Din’s earlier instruction. You listened to the bounty attempt to negotiate with him all the way out.

You followed behind them to close the ramp.

That had gone smoother than you’d really been expecting. It’s half a let down, half a relief. Part of you had been expecting somehting exciting. You pulled off your helmet as you settled in your chair in the cockpit. You used the inside of your wrist to dab away the sweat that had formed along your hairline.

Now, you could rest easy; you even looked forward to the next place Din would take you. Perhaps you’d actually be able to go exploring that time. Though you wouldn’t be surprised if Din would coax you into staying on the Razor Crest.

You settled into the copilot’s chair, shutting your eyes to rest them. It took some time for the commlink to ring with static.

You peered closely, expecting Din to ring in to tell you he’s on his way back.

What actually came through sent fear shooting through you.

“Get off the ship and run. You’ve got to find me, Y/n, but go now. Someone’s coming for you.”

You had almost misunderstood his words. You had almost thought them to be a joke.

They weren’t.

You grabbed your helmet and shoved it over her hair, not bothering to keep it neat.

You raced out of the cockpit on shakey legs. You darted into the weapons cell. You grabbed what you knew you’d be able to carry. Din had a large amban riffel that you could keep strapped on your back. You also grabbed his vambrace. You weren’t sure how it worked, but you figured it would be good for him to have.

You sprinted off the ship, unable to look back and give it one last goodbye.

You ran across the landing pad, keeping the riffel steadied in your arms.

You’re not fucking sure where to go, or what to do, but you know that Din’s hunch must have been right. That’s all you can assume. Imperialites must be swarming this place. But how could you know who from who?

As you darted through the large building, you saw many people who simply gave you puzzled glances.

Not many seemed threatening until you reached the intersection at the hallway. On one path is a swarm of officers with their weapons drawn and aimed at you.

You fired the amban. It had very little recoil,or at least from what you’re used to. You hadn’t expected a bolt of electricity to spear down one of the officers. You truthfully didn’t know what an amban riffel did. You just knew it had the basic workings of any other riffel. You’d expected plain old plasma. You darted around a wall, holding your breath as you fiddled with the dial that hid right beside the trigger. You spun it to the next setting, before you darted back out to the open, the riffel aimed outright.

You shot at an officer that promptly fell to the ground, his shoulder a cloud of ash that scattered to the floor.

Oh.

Alright.

You recalled everything you’ve learned today as you sprinted down the halls, pointing and shooting everyone who tried to shoot you first.

Gambling is an addiction.

Amban rifles have several settings.

Curiouser, and curiouser.

You weren’t sure where to go from then on. Din had told you to find him, but where could he be? You’re the only one with a tracker, and the opposite link is still on the ship. As far as you know, there’s not a way to hunt Din down besides using pure luck.

Your boots stomped down the hallways as you ran around. It became easy to seperate the enemies from the bystanders. The bystanders, for the most part, hid and ran away from you. The enemies just ran towards you. Little did they know, you have an amban rifle. You assume they don’t know what it can do, like you had just a matter of minutes ago. Unfortunate for them.

You cleared a hall, switching between the settings to do a better take down of officers with more durable suits.

You approached a large room. It looked a lot like an engine bay. Hissing tanks that let off steam stand everywhere. It’s like a maze of boilers and dials that you darted through.

“Mando!” you yelled. “Mando, where are you?!”

Your heart faltered as you realized Din might not be here; you’re not sure where else he could be.

You went through another series of corners and turns. Cast along the wall in front of you is a tall shadow, a very visible weapon in hand. You armed your riffel up, your finger sweeping just by the trigger as you bolted forward to catch the by surprise.

“Oh, Mando!” you cried when you found your husband turning, his own weapons drawn up like you. “What’s going on?!” you exclaimed as you are drawn into a tight hug.

“Thank the stars,” Din breathed in a heavy sigh of relief.

“No, no, no thanking anything yet,” you snapped. “What’s going on?”

You shoved the vambrace into his arms. As he fastened it onto his right arm, his voice, tight and taught, echoed around the metal floors and walls. “I think we’ve been setup,” he said. “I delievered the bounty to Calrissian, and he took me to a room where I was ambushed by someone else. There are many sorts of Mandalorians in the galaxy, but a small handful of them branched off to work with the Empire.”

You are quick to remember the lesson you’d been given by Gold:

And meanwhile, the cruel descendant of Tarr Vizsla began to attack the Creed more and more.

The Way has been deserted on Mandalore, but it has lived on through coverts, such as this. There are others like us. Others are waiting to seize our place as protectors as they hide on distant planets like lakebats.

“There are mandalorians here?” you asked in a trembling voice.

“I think so. I saw one. Listen, it’s going to be alright,” Din promised. “Do not ever take off your tracker. Don’t even mention it. If you have to, swallow it. If we get separated, you can’t come after me.”

Stirring with shock, you stammered, “That’s crazy. I’m not going to leave you.”

“You will if I tell you too,” Din demanded from you. “If it comes to that, then we’re going to have to split up.”

The words felt like a slap in the face. You couldn’t imagine splitting up. You couldn’t imagine how you would sruvive without him. You’re not as skilled as he is; by now, you’ve been getting along from sheer luck and an nasty build up of lifelong rage issues. You’re not a Mandalorian, not really, and you aren’t able to take down giant crowds like your husband.

In the distance, beyond the boilers, came gunfire. You and Din seized up by each other, trying to gauge where it had come from.

“I’m not looking to hurt anyone, today,” a voice echoed around. It had the familiar static of the modulators found in any Mandalorian helmet. That must be him. That must be the terrorist Mandalorian that Gold had mentioned so long ago.

Din caught you by the wrist and forced you to run alongside him.

“I hear you, little mice,” the voice called. His footsteps came from everywhere, but nowehere, all at once. Despite the clammoring of the Mandalorian’s boots, you couldn’t pinpoint which directino he’d been coming from.

Din dragged you into a small gap of a room, just off the main path of the boilers. You both huddled close together in the darkness. You tried to steady your breath out, so that it would not give you away.

Din pried his helmet off, to your surprise. You felt frantic as he tugged yours off as well.

Shut in the darkness, Din could only run his hands through your hair.

“Never stop fighting,” Din says into your ear. “Do you understand that? I will find you. You can never stop fighting.”

You managed to nod. “Alright,” you shuddered. “Never.”

Din’s hands grasped the sides of your face feverishly, tipping your head back so he could press a hard kiss to your mouth. You felt his lips tremble as you tried to grip onto his chest. You clawed against his chest plate.

Your mind turned over the possibilities of what might happen the moment you and your husband ducked out of the small hiding place.

The fighters that raged beyond the little walls are searching for you both, and searching quite loudly at that. They call out to one another while you beg the galaxy for more time in Din’s arms.

He held you in a tight hug for a moment longer, his breath shuddering as he hid his face in your neck. You wished to know what he was thinking; but you had an idea. He is likely thinking the same as you—that he must memorize all the finer details of your scent and skin, because there’s a good chance one of you will die.

You hope it’s you.

There isn’t any way you could live without Din; it’s too late for that.

Din places a kiss on your eyelids, his lips wiping your tears away. “I love you,” you rasped.

“I love you, too,” Din said. His hoarse voice didn’t sit well in your stomach. It felt painful to be unable to comfort the man who had always comforted you. You wouldn’t get the chance ever again. You know that in your heart as Din pulls his helmet back on.

He slapped his blaster in your hand, forcing you to curl your fingers around it tightly. “If you see a way out, take it,” he instructed. “I don’t care if that means leaving me.”

Your bottom lip quivered at the thought. You couldn’t do that, but you refused to tell him, knowing it would only pain him more. You forced yourself to nod in understanding.

Din steadied himself. His face became pinched with focus as he fit your helmet back over your face; he followed in suit.

You two waited in silence. You listened for the footsteps of the Mandalorian that lurked the maze like a ghost.

Your stomach wrenched painfully when you heard the strange clicking of boot buckles round the corner. You could tell that this was the end. He would find you both, and you couldn’t fathom what he would do.

The footsteps paused for the longest handful of seconds you’d ever felt. You felt the same fear you’d felt when you were caught by the court guardians during your attempted escape. Your heart seemed to clog up in your throat, leaving you unable to breathe as you waited in anxious anticipation.

Din held you tightly as the Mandalorian found you. He cackled behind his modulator. He loomed over you and your husband as he sheathed his pistol. “I found you.”

You and your husband became tied up on two unsavory chairs. The Mandalorian led you both at gunpoint to a new room at the other end of the building. He tied you both one by one, knowing neither of you would take the risk of running when he had stationed officers everywhere. You knew you couldn’t risk Din’s life that way.

That must be the very same thing Din thought about you.

Sitting feet away felt more like miles. You could strain your head back to look at your husband. The strange sight of Din being bound is one you’d never forget.

The Mandalorian that had caught you both stood tall as he paced back and forth. His armor is a dull, forest green, faded as though he’d seen many years of battle.

He had the telltale marks of a Mandalorian, even down to the jetpack strapped on his back Those were rare enough, even at the covert, reserved for the most elite of the warriors. You know deep down he can’t be a true Mandalorian––you couldn’t imagine Din greeting another Mandalorian with such malice.

As the green Mando paced back and forth, the odd buckles on his heavy boots clicked, like an ominous bell counting down to your demise.

“I suppose neither of you know what I want?” he finally asked.

Neither of the Djarrens answered this question. You knew better than to speak when Din hadn’t.

The green Mandalorian sighed in disbelief. “Imagine my surprise when not one, but two Mandalorians show up here. It must be my lucky day. I’ve been waiting for you both for such a long time. It’s been a while since I’ve been with my own kind. You both can imagine the feeling, right? We Mandos are quite misunderstood in the cruel world.”

“What do you want?” Din finally asked.

The Mandalorian paused, his helmet focused on Din’s chair. “You really can’t guess?” he asked. His voice is heavy through his modulator. “I’d like to know where the rest of us are.”

You didn’t know what the really meant. You assume Din could, for he remained silent. The Mandalorian sighed, sounding rather crestfallen. “I mean, of course, that I’d like the locations of the other coverts.”

Your heart fell like a stone into the pit of your stomach.

“And is that why we stay hidden?” You asked. “Because of the Jedi?”

Gold weighed stones of steel in her hands. They scrape over the edges of the newly bred sword, sparks flying as the edges build a razor tip.

“There are more threats than the Jedi,” she mutters, voice pitched darker than you’d ever heard. “War rages throughout the galaxy as we speak. Mandalorians have abandoned their dignity and fall in league with the Imperial scum.”

You shudder. Imperial scum. You know of such people. You’d unknowingly worked for many.

Clearing your scratchy throat, your blurt out, “Why? Why would the “pacifist” Mandalorians work for such horrible people?”

“Not all Mandalorians or black and white,” Gold explains. “This has happened in the past. The descendant of Tarr Vizsla had worked with an Imperial Sith Lord. He had intentionally waged territorism on his planet, even abandoning his child. It is more common that you might expect, Y/n.”

The Mandalorian held his hands out patiently. “Well? Wouldn't you rather tell me where your covert is than face what I could put you through?"

You kept your head down, staring at your thighs through the focus of your visor. You're breathing so hard that the Mandalorian no doubt hears you.

His boots clicked as he approached your chair. He knelt before you, tucking his hand under your chin to force your gaze upward.

Din jerked in his bindings; an unfamiliar sort of snarl tore from his mask. He spat threats to the Mandalorian who donned the forest green armor.

“Calm yourself,” the Mandalorian said coolly. “Your lover is in tender hands. Isn’t that right?” he asked you. Tears dripped down your face behind your helmet. You didn’t feel as scared as you did angry. Fury had bellowed in your belly, as it had Din’s when he saw the Mandalorian lay hands on you. You became filled with the urge to unleash as much pain on the Mandalorian as possible; it drove you mad to feel such a rage that you’d never felt before.

It felt similar to the anger that had driven you to kill the men on Nevarro. At least there you had a valid reason. Those men were Anirians, your greatest threat. But this man is a stranger––you fear that you are being driven to such anger too quickly, and for bad reason.

“I only want to know where the coverts are,” he assures you. His tone is almost believable; he sounds so troubled to be inflicting the mental torture onto you and your husband. You easily know that it’s a lie. It isn’t hard to fight that off. “Could you at least tell me your name?” he tried.

Your jaw ached from the everlasting flex it had been locked in.

“Tell me your name,” the Mandalorian urges, “or I’ll kill your lover.”

“Vidia,” you spit out. “Vidia Thorpe.”

You felt guilty for using your late best friend’s name this way, but it was the only possible thing you could say to avoid inflicting harm onto Din.

“Interesting,” the Mandalorian mulls. “I’ve never heard of Clan Thorpe. You must be a foundling.”

You couldn’t calculate what to say to that. Recalling every single rule and tradition you’d been taught, you did your very best to withstand the Mandalorian’s interrogation.

“Who took you in?”

“Shut up,” Din shouted.

“I asked you a question, Vidia,” the Mandalorian repeated. “Which clan rescued you? Can’t you see that I mean you no harm? We both have sworn the same creed, as you can clearly see. We share the same armor. I guess I’ve been a bit rude, however. My apologies. I am Boba Fett, the first and only heir of Jango. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“I will not tell you anything,” you said again, trying to sound firm. You know that your voice betrays you as it wavers out of your helmet.

The Mandalorian stared at you in silence for a long two or so minutes. Sweat dripped down your back, even in the folds of your wrist that have become chaffed by the bindings.

With a soft sigh, the Mandalorian sheathed his heavy pistol on his hip. He lifted off his helmet with no resolve or guilt. He dropped it to the metal floor, the helmet clattering loudly. You couldn’t begin to express your shock.

His dark skin and hair and eyes are too cold and unfamiliar for you to feel anything but nauseous. You swore that his eyes seeped into yours, seeing straight past your helmet and heart and into your insecurities.

“You still don’t trust me do you?” he asked after a second of silence. “I’m not sure what else I can do to encourage it...I do, though, think that you and I are the same.”

“I’m nothing like you,” you say in a tremble. “You’re a traitor to your own kind.”

His eyebrows quirked at your words. “My kind? Why not ‘our’ kind? Vidia, would you like to know what I think of you?” he asked. “I think,” he says slowly, “that you’re not a Mandalorian at all.”

“And you are?” you say through your clenched teeth. “You broke your creed.”

“And what is that creed?” the Mandalorian asked; his lips puckered as his words wrapped up in a coo. “I don’t think that you really know it because you’re not really a Mandalorian.”

He took a step closer to you, kicking his helmet away. “Let’s do us all the pleasure of seeing your face.”

You struggled against him as his hands gripped the undersides of the helmet. He tore it off, leaving your hair in disarray. The Mandalorian whistled a low tune. “You’re very beautiful, Vidia, but I always knew that you were a liar. Do yourself a favor. Tell me where the covert is.”

“Why do you want to know?” you gasped. You jerked your chin out of his hands. He frowned down at you. “Because they’re my people,” he says kindly. “Do you doubt it?”

“You broke the creed,” you seethed at him; you feel that you’re practically foaming at the mouth with anger. “You removed your helmet.”

“But not my armor,” he amends. “You should do your research before playing the role.”

His boots click as he paces towards Din’s chair. Your husband had been silent all this time.

“So are you a Mandalorian?” he asks your husband. “Or should I reveal your face, too?”

“No,” you exclaimed as he grabbed the edge of the helmet. Din jerked his head back, fighting the Mandalorian as best as he could.

The Mandalorian stepped back, hands raised defensively. “Forgive me,” he said, touching his chest. “I truly assumed. Well, this is an interesting match. I’ve heard of inter-marriages, but never of dressing an outsider in our garb. He must be trying to protect you. Am I right?” His thick brow lifted in questioning, his eyes flickering to you both for an answer. “I think,” he says slowly, “that I am right. I’m on a roll, right? Let me ask you both one more time. Before you answer me with your determination, allow me to explain the terms. Behind me you see a carbon freezer. I intend on using it today. It’s by far my favorite contraption. Usually, I’d freeze you both, one by one to encourage some talking. Unfortunately for all of us I only have enough material to freeze one of you. Meaning I’ll go home with one trophy, and one of you will be losing a spouse. If neither of you answer me, I’ll freeze Mr. Stoic and I’ll keep Vidia for my own use. She’ll make a fine gift to the Hutt clan. I’m sure she’d look gorgeous in one of those skimpy bikinis.”

“Like fuck you will,” Din roared. “You’re not touching her.”

The Mandalorian held his hand out again, trying to ease Din’s rage. “I won’t touch her if you tell me what I want to know. I’m only asking for some planets. What’s the worst I could do with that?”

Your heart thumped in your chest.

Din’s loyalty to the creed forbids him from betraying his people; your loyalty to Din forbids the same.

You can’t hold back the sob that shakes your body when you finally realize that you’ll be losing this fight. You’ll be left without Din, in the hands of the strange Mandalorian who has openly expressed his plans for you. You have to fight back. You promised Din that you would.

The Mandalorian sighed. He pulled out his dagger and approached the back of Din’s chair. “There’s still time to get talking, lovebirds,” he warns you both.

Din shook his chair, even in his bonds. He thrashed and bucked like a wild animal in a trap. “You’re a fucking disgrace,” Din bellowed. “You’re an insult to man and to your father. You’re not a Mandalorian. He would never be proud to call you his own.”

Boba Fett paused his sawing past the ropes. His handsome face contorted into a mask of anger; his eyes filled with more hatred than you’ve ever felt before. You never imagined someone could express such emotion.

Without a word, Boba tipped Din’s chair down. Your husband landed on his side with a groan, the clash of his beskar to the floor loud enough to hurt your ears.

You flinched when Boba walked towards you.

You hear his blade cut through your ropes with remarkable ease; the splitting of the threads sent icy fear through your veins.

“Disgrace?” Boba repeated. His teeth ground together loudly as he grabbed you roughly by the shoulders. Even through the arm bands you could feel his grip bruise your skin. “Insult? I can accept those,” he hissed. “I don’t think I can begin to tell you how hurt I am that you’d bring dear old dad into this.”

Manhandling is all you could describe as Boba Fett pushed you towards the freezer. Your eyes widened as you realized what he had intended.

“I figured that freezing her man would be enough to scare Vidia into sharing some information with me,” Boba laughed. “But I see, now, that you’re not willing to play nice.”

Boba roughly tossed you into the chamber of the freezer. You watched Din thrash violently on the floor, still bound in his ropes. His voice echoed around the room as he shouted. He shouted your name more than anything. You could only hear your own name in his voice, which has never been pitched with such despair. It frightened you.

The anger you’d felt before had disspeared. All you could think of now was the shade of Din’s eyes.

His lovely brown eyes, the exact shade of hot cacao. Your mind raced through all the images you’d collected over these months; his eyes, his messy hair in the morning, his damn smile.

Boba shut the chamber before you could begin to scream at yourself to fight back.

There wasn’t a way out of this.

You collapsed against the metal, a high scream ripping out of your throat. You screamed your husband’s name, hardly able to understand that he was pleading with your captor.

The chamber hissed loudly, the sound bursting your ear drums. You clutched onto the blank pendant that swung around your neck as you cried.

The pendant was meant to one day be stamped with Din’s signet. He had told you himself he was looking forward to the day your belly swelled with his child, so that he may officially have the symbol of Clan Djarren stamped into the back of his armor.

It would never happen.

You would never lay with him again, let alone bear his child.

You couldn’t register that pain as the icy freeze blasted over your face, leaving you frozen in time, forever.

>>stay tuned<<

Comment your thoughts!!!!!!!

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bucketofchum · 7 years ago

Text

So today’s been a long day. I guess I owe it to anyone who has been following my nebulous updates throughout the day (and night) if you were awake then to see the beginnings of my struggle day hah). I guess I’ll start from last night. (Warning: really fucking long post under cut)

I was already feeling faint and weak by 6:30pm or so yesterday. I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, which is bad, I know because I’m supposed to sleep a little more than normal due to the concussion. I slept about 5 hours the precious night. I thought I’d probably crash soon since I didn’t think it was likely that I’d be able to stay awake much longer. But I wanted to get some work done too that night and I had to shower too. Took my shower – that woke me up a bit, thankfully. I worked for a few hours and finished up a document, which, although it wasn’t much work, at least I got something done for this other job so I wouldn’t feel as bad. Around 10pm I started fading again. I crashed at around 10:30pm finally, hoping to get a solid night of sleep so I’d have a productive day of work tomorrow morning. I had a lot of writing to get done.

Instead, I had…a nightmare? Of sorts? It started out as kind of a normal every day kind of dream. I was messaging a friend here on tumblr as we usually do, and they sent me a gif of them eating a pizza – cuz if I went to sleep, then they’d eat pizza. Or something. So I was glad to see them enjoying their pizza. I don’t hear from them again for 3 hours, and it turns out the pizza was weed infused, haha. So now they’re pretty high and having a good time. I’m really happy for them. It turns out they’re going to attend graduate school where I went to undergrad, which is awesome – I was very excited to have them share a school experience with me ahah. But then I don’t hear from them for a little while longer and then get this short dense message from them that’s hard to read, but it seems serious. It’s about 3 sentences long, but it has no punctuation or capitalisation so it’s really hard to focus and see what it says. I get the gist of the first part “this is really hard for me to say…” and then I think it goes into them talking about how they have come to the difficult decision of annulling our friendship. ….I can…hardly believe it. I try really hard to read exactly what the words are saying to better understand what I did wrong, but I can’t focus – I’m dizzy and the words keep blurring together. I can only gather that I’m too unpredictable and not forthcoming or something along those lines – but it’s so hard to read.

Then I wake up from the anxiety attack induced by this. It’s a little past midnight.

I needed to confirm that the dream wasn’t true, so bleary eyed (I had only slept about 1.5 hours, but my heart was thudding out of my chest from anxiety), I turn to my phone. No messages from them. Hm. There’s also a chance they aren’t awake but idk. So I message them about the dream hoping for confirmation that the dream wasn’t real. They are awake. But the confirmation I was hoping for – to be comforted that the dream was unfounded – I did not receive. Shit. So. Well then… even if the dream did not happen, it would not be unreasonable to believe that it ..could happen. At any point. Sometime soon? Did they not want to be friends anymore? At least since I was talking to the real deal now and not trying to read a message in a dream, they could verballing confirm for me what the reasons would be for wanting to annul out friendship. They could tell me what I’ve been doing wrong that was so intolerable. And I’d respect it. I’d respect their decision to stop talking to me.

I realise I was.. probably delirious. And just not in a good mental place. For a lot of reasons. The dream-induced anxiety, the lack of sleep, the concussion, etc. But I had it in my head that there were these set of reasons that my friend had come up with for why they decided that they could no longer continue our friendship. And I needed to wring this out of them. And they were being dodgy and evasive and using vague words like “it’s complicated” or “you have your flaws” – but those weren’t responding to exactly what those were – or the reason to annul our friendship. The combination of the words they were using in this real life scenario and my dream of them wanting to annul our friendship.. was.. just a very bad combination. Nothing about the way I was thinking was.. on track.

Eventually they end up telling me some of their concerns, which are…not at all the concerns I thought – or had imagined in my dream. And that cognitive dissonance was able to break me out of the dream-mental-reality I was in. idk. That delirious talk also raised some other questions, but.. they needed to sleep. I can’t even imagine what that conversation must have been like on their end, tbh. I can hardly conceptualise what it was on my end since so little of it was grounded in reality.

It’s another hour or so before I fall asleep. I sleep at maybe 3am. Wake up promptly at 7am without an alarm (7:02 was sunrise; I remember I checked my phone at 7:04am). It takes me way too long to get ready for work. I was planning on walking to work, not biking (it’s about a 40 minute walk), but by the time I am ready to leave, it’s already 8:55am. I don’t know where the time went. So I stagger over to get my bike because if I’m going to be late, at least I won’t be…ridiculously late.

I’m at work by 9:30am. I can’t get any work done. I can’t focus. I make some edits to the document based on suggestions my supervisor had left, but I’m unable to generate complete sentences. I’m distracted and just can’t focus on anything at all. But I… check my e-mail and see I got a free haircut because of my blood donation at this hypermasculine place called SportClips? I check locations, and the nearest one is some 4 miles away. I don’t know if I want to make that trek – but I am due for a haircut I guess. I’ve been looking shaggy and haggardly lately I guess. My friend strongly urges me to get my hair cut – I guess on account of the recent attack. I guess I can pass as female (like a short haired androgynous female), so they do urge me to get my hair cut. Buzzed. Okay. I’ll have to find some time to allocate to get to this SportClips then. My friend and I laugh about how ridiculously hypermasculine this place is marketed. “Sports on TV” “Guy Smart Stylists” “It’s good to be a guy!” “You’re always welcome for a mini Man Break.” *images of attractive women cutting men’s hair and men watching Sports™ together* Tbh it’s a little nauseating.

My supervisor checks in on me and tells me I should go home. I haven’t even been at work for 2 hours and she is sending me off because – I guess – I’m in terrible shape. She tells me I can make up the hours tomorrow and Friday. I only worked 3.5 hours yesterday too. I’ve just been… not doing great. But I know I can’t get anything done at work, so I take her advice and leave. It’s 11:30am – not even noon, and I’m already off work.

Huh. I figure I can get that haircut then. Since I unexpectedly have some time.

Have to figure out how to get there. There’s a …tube… it looks like only cars go there? I quickly look up that tube on the internet to see if it’s amenable to foot/bike traffic. The one site I checked confirms it is – says it’s a narrow pass, so only one bike can fit at a time - if there are two bikers, they have to dismount to pass. Fair enough. Makes sense. So I turn into the tunnel.

It…… hhmmmmm. I am only on the road for a few meters before I realise I am the only bike on a very high speed highway like road with no shoulder. Off the the side behind a fence is a small narrow sidewalk. But why didn’t I go in there? I passed the entrance?? I don’t think so. I don’t remember an entrance. So I dismount. On the fuckin freeway. I have to walk back against traffic. There is no shoulder. I’m fuckin. Terrified. But. I can’t keep going forward into the tunnel with this traffic. I would die. So less chance of dying is walking back to try to find how to get on the other side of this fence thing. It takes a while to walk back just a couple dozen meters or so because. It’s a blind curve. With trucks and cars going at 50-60mph. And I’m walking. With a bike. It’s just a terrible situation. I finally get back to where the fence starts. And it’s???? Fuckin??? NARROW??? The opening of the fence is just barely big enough for me to fit through sideways. Now look – I’m a decently slim person. When I looked at that entrance, just eyeballing it, I would have told you I wouldn’t be able to get in there. But. Idk I’m in too deep now. How to get my bike through, though. I dismantle the front wheel of my bike so that I can turn the handlebars sideways and…flip the bike through. It is too narrow for even the pedals to fit through. I guess that gives you an idea of how narrow this is. With enough finagling, I’m able to squeeze the bike through. Then the front wheel. Then my backpack. Then myself. On the other side of the fence now, I put my bike back together.

Now I guess if I were in my right mind I would not have done that. I probably would have called it a day. But clearly I guess I wasn’t thinking. My head is definitely not set on right from a combination of shit – the lack of sleep, the concussion, the combination thereof, the anxiety dream from the night before…? Any number of factors idk. But clearly the fact that I did all that shit without questioning anything means I wasn’t thinking rationally.

Anyhow once I got past that narrow entrance I felt relatively safe from the cars. I was elevated and behind a fence. Once in the tunnel, I was clearly the only non vehicular traffic. It was narrow enough for just me and my bike (for the handlebars of the bike to be straight across), but nothing else. Idk what that website was on about because there is no way two bikers could fit, even dismounted. Also – this is a highway???????? There is only one way traffic.

The tunnel ended after a mile. I did not feel 100% safe even behind the fence but that was…a lot safer than I felt outside the tunnel. No more fence, and the ledge narrowed to a staggering foot and a half wide. Which might have been fine – maybe – if not for the big arrow signs off the walls directing the car traffic. Why? I don’t know. It’s a fucking highway it’s not like there are multiple ways you can go. It’s those arrows that tell you the road is turning/curving, I guess so you don’t ram into a wall since you’re going 60-70 mph. Anyhow.

I… was convinced I was going to die. If I stuck ad arm out at any point, I would have lost it. I tried hard to keep my body as close to the wall as possible, but those giant metal arrow signs meant that I occasionally had to step off into the actual road. I was gonna die here. And nobody would know where I was except the one friend. And for what. For a haircut. A haircut that would maybe prevent me from being assaulted another time? Idk.

This was.. the worst stretch of road. Honestly. Probably the first time I started thinking rationally all day. Why the fuck was I here? There was no way out of this. I’d shake every time a car or truck passed because of the speeds and they were close enough to almost clip me. It would have been so easy for me to die.

But. I didn’t. Eventually the wall ended and it opened up to another highway. An open two way highway that was slower – I guess mostly local traffic. (Slower as in fewer cars, not slower speeds). I hopped the short divider fence and pulled my bike over, waited for the second highway to clear up, and traversed the four lanes. To. A …strip mall? Honestly idk at this point I felt unreal. Like if you’ve ever spent 3-4 days with no sleep and you feel ethereal and timeless and like you don’t actually have a corporeal form. That’s how I felt. It was a little past noon by this point. Of course the strip mall is relatively dead. Who goes to a strip mall at noon on a Wednesday? Liminal space.

I wander around kind of delirious and find the SportClips. I fuckin almost died for this stupid SportClips. My body was covered in soot from the tunnel I guess, but the lady at the reception was kind enough not to say anything about that or my vacant stare and hollow tone of voice.

But then idk what proceeded was…? One of the most pleasant experiences of my life? Idk if it was cuz I was so delirious but. Hm. So I usually cut my own hair, so I don’t know much about getting hair professionally cut. I didn’t have a picture or a goal in mind. Just.. short. Buzzed. She offered some suggestions and tbh I said “yeah sure okay” to them all. “You’re so picky – what am I gonna do with you?” she joked. She asked me how I normally wear my hair. ???? idk I just.. I just wake up and it’s on my head idk. I don’t use any product I guess. And she cut it…so it looked really nice?? Huhhh…..

And then since it was my first time there, she asked if I wanted a warm shampoo and head massage??? Um???? Okay???? She brought me around to the back and sat me down in a chair that reclined. And put a hot towel on my face. And massaged my temples of my forehead and my cheekbones ???? through the hot towel??? And then washed my hair with shampoo and massaged my head???? While doing it?????? It was the single most pleasant experience I had ever had in my entire life I think. Also?? The chair…was vibrating the whole time?????????? God…

That didn’t last that long hah, but then she brings me out and sits me down in another chair. I guess it’s to dry off. She wiped my face off with the hot towel and I… just felt… really taken care of??? Idk I felt safe? Hah. Then she says dryly with a smile “but wait there’s more” and pulls out a thing – I don’t even know what it is but tbh I’m too afraid to ask. It almost looks like an…air horn…? But hold up, it’s not plugged in. I think maybe it’s a blow drier? And it’s. A fucking. Massage thing. She gives me a fucking neck and shoulder massage. I’m. Fucking. Dead. This is the most amazing thing I have never asked for, and I did not expect any of this.

Then she tousles my hair with some product although tbh it looks pretty damn amazing even without product. I ask if I can give her kudos or anything on the website or anywhere. Turns out it’s her last day, so it’s not like it’ll do anything. But I can do it anyway so they know what they’re missing. Okay, I say. I’ll do that. Because of my blood donation, it was free. A $20 haircut and an unexpected massage for free. Wow.

Hm okay. Now I have to figure out how to get home. It’s about 12:30. There is a tube for the Northward direction but god idk there is nothing I wanted less at that moment than to relive that underground highway tunnel experience. I’m not sure I would survive a second attempt and I’d …really rather not. My heart had still not settled by that point. And just the thought of needing to do that again was anxiety inducing.

There’s a bus in the area and also a ferry. The bus is nearby but I don’t know if they will allow a bike on. The ferry is another 4 miles out of the way and will take me pretty far out, but I guess I can bike home eventually… before my tutoring. God, I still have to tutor tonight. As I’m looking for the bus station, I feel my legs buckle underneath me. I realise I haven’t eaten yet. It’s about 1:30pm. I think I last ate yesterday around…5pm? Hm. Anyhow if this bus thing doesn’t work out, I’ll look for the ferry and figure out how that works when I get there. Hopefully the bus works.

But I realise. I don’t have fuckin cash on me. Last week, a woman approached me and said she was homeless and needed money for food. I’m.. not in the best financial situation right now, as you guys probably know, but also I’ve been there – where you don’t know when or where you can get your next meal. She said please. I dug out my wallet and gave her the only bill I had – a $10. That would buy her lunch. Idk I didn’t feel as great as I should have because honestly I’m.. really not doing well myself. But. No one should have to go hungry. So. That’s why I have no cash on me. And the bus comes. The fare is $2.25. They don’t take card. And it’s exact change only. I’m kind of.. panicking as I’m digging through my backpack. My pockets are empty and every pocket in my backpack seems em…pty…? I see something shiny. A fuckin. Coin? I have… I miraculously have $2.25 in my backpack. I don’t know what sort of deity is pulling for me tbh – clearly some god somewhere is working overtime, cuz I somehow have exact fucking change for a bus fare. Lord in heaven. And the bus even has a rack for my bike.

The bus somehow crosses the channel without my noticing. Damn that was fast…? I’m so close to home. Also my hair smells ridiculously good. Even when I was in my “how to get home” panicked state, I kept on randomly smelling how ridiculously good my hair was. It was.. the strangest experience. Couldn’t focus on getting home because I was just distracted by the smell of my hair. Soot on my body and disheveled clothes, I probably looked like a hobo with a really fuckin sharp haircut. Idk.

I get off about 8 blocks from my house and it’s a strange walk back. It’s about 3pm maybe and I’m just feeling delirious. Everything about it feels unreal but I just know I’m really close to home. I make it home, safe, and I can’t support myself upright anymore. Crash on my bed. I send a tremendously short e-mail to my tutoring client “I don’t think I can be there for our lesson tonight.” Probably conjugated a verb wrong, but I couldn’t think enough to write anything more. I finally crashed. I slept for about.. half an hour to an hour? About 40 minutes, I think. And spend another half hour lying there, trying to get up.

It’s now about 7pm. And I need to cook something.

#personal #Modo #dreams #I'll put it in my dreams tag too because I wrote about my dream

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