#so I drew the funny insect man as a treat

[cubicle785c]

long time no see

[beskarberry]

Valkyrie

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 4

(The Mandalorian x f!reader)

“What... did you... do?”  You hissed between clenched teeth. “Did you poison him?! Give me the antidote right now or so fucking help me I’ll tear every limb off your ugly little body!” You were seething, fear and fury stoking fire behind your eyes. The bounty only laughed harder.

“Antidote?There’s only one antidote for that one, sugar, and I sure hope you like him enough to give it to him! Bwahaha ha! Good luck!”

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 7.8k

Content warnings: Canon-typical violence, SEX POLLEN + rough sex, oral sex (m receiving) and kink talk (not gonna list all of them but they’re all very common.) There’s another filk song reference in this one that I’ll link in the replies.

A/N: VERY IMPORTANT TAG! The bounty uses she/her pronouns so if girl on girl violence makes you squeamish please read ahead with caution! Also know that I >>do not<< use any gender-specific slurs (b*tch, c*nt, etc.)

<-Previous Next->

Everything. Was. Purple.

Purple! The grass, the sky, the trees, if you could call them that. The pulsating, gelatinous towers that spiraled into the sky were definitely alive, but you weren’t sure if ‘tree’ was a fitting word for them. Their branches were long and hanging, weighed down by some kind of berry or fruit that glowed with teal streaks. Your next bounty was on a habitable moon orbiting an enormous gas giant that took up the entire skyline. It was lush with vegetation and sparsely populated, a perfect hideout for an Ardennian.

The Razor Crest was parked in a meadow of lavender grass, though once again you questioned your choice of words, watching the way the long wet leaves wiggled in the breeze. You breathed deep, letting the rich, humid air fill your lungs while your traveling companions followed behind you down the old ship’s ramp. Baby beans trotted right past you on stubby legs, picking things up off the ground that he probably shouldn’t be putting in his mouth, but was too sneaky for you to stop him from doing so. You heard the Crest’s access door shut, and turned to see Mando eagerly trotting along to join you.

No, not ‘Mando’... Din. Mr. Mystery finally had a name, though you were still conflicted about using it. The man had spilled so many secrets into you in such a short amount of time that the butterflies in your stomach were breeding many-legged worms. Squirming, creeping things that quickly metamorphosized back into their illustrious true selves, and you weren’t sure which part of their cycle was making you more nauseous. But they were your secrets to keep, your heart wearing his name like a locket; safely hidden where nobody but you could see.

You had slid the heavy beskar bucket back up the ladder to him while he stayed in the dark of the cockpit, the knowledge of his facial features still kept by your hands alone. The pair of you had then stood close together at the armory, him with his helmet back where it belonged and you with your bright eyed mask protecting your crown. At the equipment cache he couldn’t stop talking, pointing out and picking up a variety of weapons and traps that would work particularly well for this simian quarry. Everything had a story, and he told you all about the bounties he had pulled trophies off of, or things he had gotten as rewards for helping someone else. He’s giddy. You could only listen along as he prattled away, handing you grapple after snare until you had to start putting things back in the armory, just so you could have your hands free again.

Hands. Every time he gave you another tool of the trade to add to your ever-growing inventory his hands brushed somewhere on you. Leather tipped fingers glancing quickly on your wrist, a lingering palm on your shoulder; each fleeting touch lasting just slightly longer than the last. He was struggling to keep his hands off of you, reluctant to give up the intimacy you had both been working at in the void-black darkness of the flight deck before atmospheric reentry tore you both apart. What other prayers of devotion could he pour into you, if you’d just had a little more time? ‘You belong to them, that is The Way’. The oath he had made to you was followed coldly in your mind by another string of words, ‘I’m not asking you to do the same, you’re not Mandalorian’.

You couldn’t think about all the words that you still needed to unpack, it was hunting time. The six-limbed simian was wanted for, checks puck notes, chemical warfare. She had blasted her way to the Guild’s Most Wanted list by lobbing incendiary bombs and poison gas grenades through a meeting of outer rim parliament, and the price on her head might have been higher than yours. The bounty puck specifically stated she was to be taken alive. Super. The droid-face mask wasn’t going to be much protection for your lungs, but it might at least keep your eyes safe. You took time to pack extra bacta and some quality rations, plus one of your new bantha-wool blankets. You woke up that morning on Tatooine, and the voice of your tortured circadian rhythm wondered if you would be sleeping rugged tonight somewhere on this heliotropic hellscape.

A bounty fob blinked lazily from the larger hunter’s belt, indicating that the quarry was on-world, but not close enough to catch. The three of you would have some walking to do. The child tried to make friends with every wiggly thing, running on his short little legs from fern to fern, hunting for treats. The little beastie’s adopted father chased him through the grass, trying, and failing, to keep him from getting into trouble. The sight of the mighty metal man being defeated so easily by a baby made you laugh, and the sound of your melodic giggles drew his attention.

“What are you laughing at?”

Oh no, I’ve been caught!  “I’m laughing at you, rust bucket! The scariest person here isn’t either of us, it’s him!” You pointed to where the child was tearing through the reeds after some kind of amphibian, and started laughing harder when Mando cursed and flew after his impish son. The rowdy child had a frog-like creature hanging from his mouth that vanished the second his dad tried to pull it away.

“Stop eating things you find on the ground!” The baby only squealed at the scolding, earning himself a grumpy, papa-patented sigh. Mando picked up the potato-sack of a child and dumped him unceremoniously into the hover-crib that floated along behind. “You can get back out when you learn your lesson! I don’t want you to get sick.” The baby made huge, sad eyes up at his dad, but Mando turned away quickly to avoid their hypnotic powers. You were doing your best to hide your giggles, covering the part of your mask where your mouth was, as if that would help. The Mandalorian strode up to you with a swagger. “Oh, you think that’s funny, cyar’ika?”

“You don’t?” You caught your reflection in the black gloss of his visor as he sauntered up to you, and your bug-eyed doppelganger only made you laugh more. A wall of beskar stood in front of you, eyeing you with slow tilts of his helmet while you got it all out of your system. When your breaths returned to normal you looked down at your hands and found that they had made friends. You had reached out for him without even thinking, and you were a little embarrassed that they had gravitated to him so naturally. He squeezed your hands gently before letting them return to you, and you heard the songs of star-lost sailors whispering in the back of your mind. The nights are long between the stars, and lonely, too, for me. I wonder how I might have fared with home and family.

“Night’s coming fast, we should keep moving.” Hunting mode reactivated, your companion started towards the undulating wilderness. He wasn’t wrong, within a few hours the massive planet that hung above you drifted out of view, replaced with a sea of glittering stars. The foliage around you glowed with otherworldly colors, teals and violets splattering their dense leaves and curling down their jelly trunks. Their loveliness made it easy to distract yourself from the task at hand, your eyes chasing the occasional yellow and red flashes that blinked from insects high in the branches. Ahead of you a large old tree had fallen over, and between its trunk and its upturned roots the spot was easily defensible.

Mando busied himself with clearing squishy sticks and leaves from the area to make a campsite while you looked for something to start a fire with. Nothing looked burnable, everything had a gooey, wet consistency, but some dead leaves under the log were dried out. They would have to do. You made them into a neat pile and pushed some rocks in a circle around them for safety, now you would just need a light.

“Hey, tinman, I need some heat!” He followed your pointing finger with his helmet and waltzed over to you, happy to be of assistance. He started up his wrist mounted flamethrower and used the pilot light to set the tinder ablaze. Not even fire could escape the overwhelming purpleness of the estranged moon as the blaze kicked up a bright indigo with a low heat. You got to work getting dinner around, pulling savory Tatooine treats out of your pack, pushing some of them towards the heat source so they would be warm. At the bottom of your bag you found some soft, squashed thing, and pulled the remains of breakfast out into the light. It was mashed, but it was still probably edible. “Mando, you never ate your breakfast.”

“What?” He looked at the sad excuse for a meal that you were offering him, eyeing it with curiosity. “You got me breakfast?”

“Yes? I told you that I would, though I guess it’s dinner now. Here.” You waved it at him so he would get the hint, and he took it carefully from you with timid hands.

“T-thank you. You’re very kind.”

“And don’t you forget it!” You whooped with overwhelming confidence, but the sweet words made you blush under your mask. Before he could turn and leave the safety of the fire to find a private eating area you reached for his hand again, pulling the armored paw to your forehead and knocking it softly against your mask. Kov'nynir. A wistful sigh escaped his modulator, and you knew the act of affection was well received. He bent himself down to where you sat at the fire and pressed his own forehead against yours, rumbling with contentment. The gentle sound made your heart swell, such a simple gesture that carried so much meaning. A bounty hunter’s life was fast and dangerous, why should finding companionship be any different?

You pushed your heads together just a little harder before he pulled himself away from you to go eat. You lifted your own dinner and the baby’s from the hearth, poking at it with your fingers to make sure it wasn’t too hot for Mr. Green Beans to eat. The child took it from you eagerly, content in his protective pram and making gross little noises while he ate. The food tin you had was much better than day one’s menu: bantha meat and Tusken hardtack with a side of more mystery mush. Your partner chose to take his meal elsewhere, fading into the darkness behind the fallen log where he could remove his helmet and eat in peace. Someday he might make more sense to you. The clank! of an empty food tin hitting the ground brought your attention back to your campsite buddy, the baby having thrown his clean plate at you.

“What’s wrong, booger? You bored? Alright.” There was a tiny bit of energy still left in your bones, and what better way to spend it than entertaining your precious audience. You pulled yourself to your feet, taking a moment to dust the spores from your pants and pull your backpack on before launching into song.

“When we pulled into Naboo’s Port in need of R&R,

The crew set out investigating every joint and bar.

We had high expectations of their hospitality,

But found too late it wasn't geared for spacers such as we!”

“And we're banned from Naboo, everyone!

Banned from Naboo, just for having a little fun!

We spent a jolly shore leave there for just three days or four,

But Naboo doesn't want us anymore!”

Green baby hands tried their best to clap in time with your sailor song, accompanied by adorable cooing noises while he tried to sing along. Your rambunctiousness summoned Mando back over to the fire, and he sat down on a large rock next to his foundling, watching you through his visor as you danced around the fire with flailing limbs.

“Our Engineer would yield to none at putting down the brew;

She outdrank seven space marines and a demolition crew!

The Navigator didn't win, but he out-drank almost all,

And now they've got a shuttlecraft on the roof of City Hall!”

You ran through the chorus again, taking a second to notice that tinman was tapping his foot to the beat along with you. You wondered briefly if they ever sang on Mandalore. You took a deep breath to continue-

“-KABOOM-!”

The fireside exploded just meters from your spinning dance, and you were hauled backwards to safety by your oathsworn protector,along with his foundling, and ushered towards the safety of the trees.

“-BOOM! Ba-BOOM! KERPLOW-!”

Trees and plants exploded on either side of you as you ran through the luminous dark. The Ardennian! Neither of you had been paying attention to the bounty fob, blinking fast and red under his cloak. Above you the sound of something swinging through the branches caught your ear, and you pulled your blaster and fired behind you.

“Bwahaha! Missed me missed me now you gotta kiss me, two-arms!” You couldn’t see her, but her taunts gave you a better idea of her position, firing several more shots towards their source. You knew you had to take her alive, but that didn’t mean intact.

“Go go go!” Mando was at your back, doing his best human shield impression while he hurried you away from the bombardment, the child’s bulky pram tucked uncomfortably under one arm. Your flight through the forest was haunted with vicious cackling and the sound of serene foliage being obliterated by the explosives that rained down around you, choking you with incendiary fumes.

A clearing materialized ahead, and the three of you rushed out from under the unmerciful trees. When you had gotten far enough from the tree line you both turned your eyes to the canopy.

“There!” Picking up her heat signature on his visor’s infrared sensors, he pointed to your target, his other arm still occupied with protecting the foundling. You grabbed the barrel of the pulse rife that was still slung over his shoulder, aimed, and fired. The ball of electricity arced from your little trio and collided with the trees, the sound of pained screams and crashes followed the wounded pyromaniac as she fell hard to the ground. Bullseye.

”Stay here, Mando, I got this! Keep him safe!” You stormed into the woods after the sounds of distress, snare at the ready to take the bounty alive. You were angry, rage powering your stride as you chased after her like a Corellian tracking hound. Angry that your sweet moment had been ruined, angry that she’d put the foundling in danger, angry that your partner had been pulled from the comfort of the fire to fulfill his duties as guardian. You sprang over roots and fallen branches, catching the sight of movement where the Ardennian was making a run for it. 

“Oh no you don’t! Get back here!”  Your words boiled with so much fury that they almost weren’t your own. Balls of fire exploded around you in a last ditch effort by the primate to kill you first. You dropped a knee into the loamy soil to steady your shot.

Woosh! The net sailed past her by mere inches, and you flew to your feet to begin the chase again.

“Ha! Grow some more arms and maybe you’ll have better aim!”  Fire erupted around you again, but the flames that seared at your eyes came from inside, burning with fuel siphoned from your heart. You took another shot.

Woosh! Miss! FUCK. You had one shot left on the snare-slinger, and you had to make it count. The trees were thinner here, how long had you been running? The simian was struggling to get away now, the long slimy branches too far apart to swing through. Behind you the sound of thunderous armored boots told you that Mando was hot on your trail, and you were glad to have the back up even though you had specifically told him to stay put. Nobody listens in this crew. Something green and gaseous poofed next to you, and the terms of the bounty puck came back to you clear as day: chemical warfare. The Ardennian was out of bombs and had switched to gas canisters, hurling a variety of brightly colored poisons at your face. Third time’s the charm.

Woosh! The net flew true, tangling in the many limbs of the fleeing quarry and throwing her to the ground. Gotcha! You bore down on her as brightly glowing vials sailed over your head, landing on something behind you with a crash! You were on her in an instant, shoving a blaster in her face.

“You’re done, chuckles! It’s over!” The fear in her eyes vanished as quickly as it had appeared when she glanced back behind you.

“Ha! I don’t think so, stinky. You’re gonna have yer hands too full with that to deal with little old me.” You followed her gaze, and froze from the ice crystalizing in your veins. Mando stood a ways back, still as a statue. Bright neon pink goo slimed its way down his helmet and dripped onto his chest plate. You turned on the Ardennian again.

“What... did you... do?”  You hissed between clenched teeth. “Did you poison him?! Give me the antidote right now or so fucking help me I’ll tear every limb off your ugly little body!” You were seething, fear and fury stoking fire behind your eyes. The bounty only laughed harder.

“Antidote? There’s only one antidote for that one, sugar, and I sure hope you like him enough to give it to him! Bwahaha ha! Good luck!” She was howling with laughter in your grasp, and the sound of her mirth was like nails on chalkboard to your ears. You practically threw her to the ground, running back to your incapacitated partner. He hadn’t moved a muscle.

“Mando! Hey hey can you hear me? Tell me what’s wrong!” The glowing pink slime was still on his helmet, and you hunted for something to wipe it off with. The closest thing was his cloak, so you reached for it and went to clean the pretty pink sludge from his helmet when an armored claw shot up and caught your wrist. The action startled you, but you were happy to see him still able to move. “Mando? You ok?” Slowly, with almost robotic precision, he turned his gaze to you.

“Cyar...’ika....?” His words were long and labored, the strain of them sending a chill through your bones.

“Yes! It’s me, Mando. I’m right here, I’m gonna get you taken care of. I- I’ll find some bacta or-” Your words were cut off by another wicked claw on your shoulder.

“So... Beautiful...”  The lustful words made the gears in your head grind to a halt. Really? Right now?

“Ok great, glad to see you’re fine, now can we get back to hunt-” He cut you off with a hand at your throat.

“Beautiful.. and mouthy. So... fucking... mouthy.” A leather tipped hand snaked up your neck to your lips, grabbing at your jaw and pushing a thumb in past your teeth. You tried to spit him out but his other hand latched on to the back of your skull. “I’m going to put that mouth to good use, mesh’la.”  Your mask was tossed to the ground, and the ‘good luck’ the Ardennian had wished you now made sense. Whatever was oozing down the front of his helmet was driving him into an uncontrolled sexual frenzy, and you were the sole outlet for all his desires.

“Mando! -Blech-! Man- Din!” He stopped trying to get down your throat at the sound of his own name, hearing it for the first time from your lips. “Din! We don’t have time for this right now! Get a grip!” Oh, but he already had a grip, and it was tightening on your scalp.

“That’s right, sweetheart, say my name.”  The command dripped from his modulator the same way the poison dripped down his face, and he started walking you backwards by the hair until you bumped against a squishy tree. The change of emotion from rage to fear to confusion made your head spin, and the new contending feeling of heat building in your guts was making itself known.

“Knock it off! Fucking hell, she’s going to get away if we don’t do something right now! ”

“Let her. You’re the only one I want.” The weight of his arms on your neck and shoulders became too much, and the man who you had shared a such a sweet moment with not too long ago was now forcing you to your knees. You dropped to a kneel, and your face was hard pressed up against the solid bulge that was trying to rip its way out of his pants. He took only a second to free himself, pushing his throbbing cock against your teeth. “Open wide.”

You wished you were meeting with mini-mando under better circumstances, but if getting him off would get you back to the hunt, you were happy to help. The taste of him on your tongue sent electricity through your body, spooling up fresh heat between your own legs. Above you Mando was making deep, guttural groans as you took his cock all the way to the back of your throat, wrapping a fist around where you couldn’t reach without gagging. You glanced around his leg to where you could see the hover-crib, floating a good distance away with the shield closed tight. Good, he doesn’t need to see this. A swift thrust brought your attention back to where it was demanded.

“That’s a good girl, take it all in. Let me make a mess of that pretty little mouth of yours.” He had a death grip on the back of your hair and the side of your jaw, pushing up to keep you open enough to take his length. Inside you were swirling your tongue around the tip every time it slid past, making sultry praises flood from his modulator. Most of the words were garbled, raunchy and alien, probably Mando’a. Spit leaked from the sides of your mouth, making good on his word to make a mess of you. The claws in your hair pulled tight, forcing your nose into the tuft of soft hair at his base so he could pump your throat full of cum without you escaping. “Ahh~! That’s it, mesh’la, drink it all down.”

The hot spunk made you choke and gag, tears rushing to your eyes, but you still swallowed as best you could. When he finally let you pull away you gasped for air, coughing on the ground at his feet.

“There! *cough!* is that... -blech-, better? Can you hunt now? Are you done?” The potionmaster was probably long gone, you couldn’t hear her fucking cackling anymore.

“Cyar’ika, we’re not done until I say we’re done.” The spear at your cheek was still hard as beskar, ready for round two. The armored man yanked you to your feet, shoving you face first towards the nearest tree. The tree’s flesh was soft and squishy, a fact you would be grateful for soon enough. Your hips were pulled backwards, and a buzzing sound told you he had pulled a vibroblade from his belt, stabbing under your pants’ edge and pulling down the crack of your ass until your clothes were cut away; leaving just the legs and your boots to protect you. The cold air hitting your cunt gave away your arousal, and he zoned in on it like a falcon, pressing still-gloved fingers to your wet slit. The roughness of the leather invading you made you cry out and your knees buckle, squirming under the intrusion of one finger, then two; pumping in and out of you to stoke your flame.

“You’re so pretty. So fucking pretty, and strong. I’m gonna lose myself in you, fierce little thing, and I never want to be found.” His hands ripped away from your swollen cunt, and the head of his cock was pressed to its lips. Both of you made delicious, filthy noises as he buried himself to the hilt, the slick of his own cum making a wonderful lube. “Fuuuuuck, you’re hot inside, lovely girl. My cock was made just for you.” He barely made it a few inches out of you before he was slamming back into you again. The force of him behind you smashed you face into the soft, forgiving tree, though you wished you could find somewhere for your hands to grab hold. He fucked you like a man possessed, and you were sure there would be bruises on your hips and thighs when he was finished.

His mouth ran like surging lava. “Fucking.. Maker... beautiful girl, beautiful hunter! Hunter-killer! I knew you would be a challenge to hunt, but I never thought you would be the one to capture me! You’re a work of art on the killing field! Mmph! You are mine and I’m going to fill your belly with my warriors ‘til you’re fit to burst. They’ll be so ferocious! Born with daggers in their teeth.” Vulgar words between thrusts made your entire body hot with a mix of embarrassment and lust. You might never know if the neon goo had given him the desire to breed you, or if he adored you so much that he wanted more of you to care for, but you did know your contraceptive implant would be having none of it either way. Still, his damning words flowed. “Nobody will ever put their hands on you again but me. I’ll give you everything you desire, cyar’ika, anything you ask for will be yours. I’ll bring the stars down from the sky if you ask me to! I- I’ll- I’m gonna...”

The Mandalorian stilled behind you, twitching as his cock spilled into you and ran hot down your thighs. His breaths were gasping, broken and desperate for air. His fingers digging into the soft skin on your hips would leave their mark for sure, and though he’d done a fantastic job of scrambling your insides you still felt warmth in your chest. Even in his poisoned, delirious state of mind, all of his thoughts were of you alone. The grip on your ass loosened, and the sound of a heavy thud hitting the ground told you he had fallen down into the soft purple grass. You struggled to peel your face from the jelly tree, standing like a newborn fawn on shaky legs. The bright pink streak on his helmet had lost all its glow, and your human rust-bucket was slumped over on his side, still as the grave. Not again, fucksake. You clambered over to him, digging under his cloak with your hands until you found his pulse. Still alive.

“Alright Mando, fucking stay here this time like I told you to.” You glanced around the meadow, but the Ardennian was nowhere to be found. Fuck! All that work for nothing. You groaned, looking down at what was left of your pants. You checked all the pockets, finding your lucky krayt teeth and a bacta patch before kicking the ruined fabric off over your boots. You dropped down to the spent form of your comrade, tilting his helmet up and slapping the bacta patch on one of the hickies you had left there a few days ago. You took a moment to stuff the teeth into one of his many pouches since you no longer had pockets of your own. With your ass in the wind you made your way over to the floating pram to check on your tiny pal. “Hey beans, you doing ok? Your dad and I were just having a little-” you spun the cradle around. Empty.

“No! Fuck! Fuck fuck FUCK!” The bounty had made off with Din’s infant son, your little buddy! You couldn’t stop the fear that dried your throat and brought tears to your eyes. Get a hold of yourself! Find him! NOW! Familiar rage welled up behind your eyes, and you raced back over to your unconscious guardian, still laying in the dirt and making it extra difficult to untangle the pulse rifle still slung over his back. Your hunting instincts were on high alert, and the sound of shouting caught your ears. “I’m gonna get him back, Din! Just... just fucking stay here!”

You tore off after the noise, every horrible scenario running through your head at once. Would she steal him? Would she hurt him? Would she kill him? Rage flared hot in your chest and threatened to burn you alive, your feverish skin icy with sweat. Wet leaves slapped past your bare knees so fast that their thin edges left vicious paper cuts. You didn’t care, nothing else mattered but the foundling. The sound of shouting grew louder, and you thundered though the trees to another clearing by a narrow wine-dark stream. 

“Help! This thing’s got me! Get me down, please! Get it away from me!” The simian terror was hanging in the air ahead of you. No, not hanging, floating. She was thrashing her arms, but all that did was slowly spin her in place. The sight was magical, but more important was the safety of child. On the ground near her, he stood with one fat little paw in the air, pointing at his abductor and concentrating with all his might. You didn’t know how he had escaped, or what the actual fuck he was doing, but you didn’t hesitate. You pulled the pulse rifle from your back and fired, once, twice, three times until her limp body was hanging in the air, knocked out cold. Or dead.

Baby beans crumpled to the ground, and the Ardennian followed suit, the ugly noise she made when she hit the ground brought a wicked smile to your cheeks. The baby’s little eyes were bleary and tired under his big droopy ears, and you scooped him carefully up off the ground to pull him in for a good, strong hug.

“Did you get the mean lady, sweetie? Good job! I don’t know what the fuck you did but hey, no questions asked, alright? I’m just glad you’re ok.” He smiled up at you with his tiny toothy grin before conking out in your arms, leaning heavily against your chest. You set him back down on the ground, just long enough to tie that six limbed asshole up tight, using everything you still had above the waist to keep her captured. You tied her arms to her feet and slung her limp body over you like a rucksack, then picked the foundling back up. With your bounty, baby, and bare ass you started the hike back to your fallen man.

Mando still laid where you had left him on his side, and you were annoyed to realize that, out of everybody involved, you were the only one left awake. Fantastic. You returned the baby to his floating bucket, pulling it closer to the pair of you this time, and dumped the Ardennian in the dirt. There was no way you could maneuver three bodies at once, somebody was going to have to get up and walk.

“Mando! Mando get up, we gotta go.” The man in question didn’t budge, soft, muffled snores your only response. You tried everything you could think of, pulling on his hands and legs and shouting, anything to wake his ass up. You knocked on his helmet, “Ground control to Major Mando, time to get up! Rise and shine, bucket boy!” Nothing, he was going to have to sleep the after-effects of the potion off, so he was staying right where he was.

You had no idea how far you had gotten from the campsite, and the cold night air on your bare booty made you remember your half-nakedness. On the ground scattered around the pile of living beskar was your backpack and the remains of your pants, along with the rest of your trap gear. Start packing more clothes. You went for the gear first, pulling another set of cuffs and a good strong rope out, and added a few more knots to the half-dead quarry so she wouldn’t be pulling any bullshit in the night. The backpack still had the bantha-wool blanket wrapped up tight, and you tied it around yourself like a skirt. Better than nothing.

Kneeling on the ground next to your Mandalorian, you cleared yourself a space to sit down, taking an extra second to make sure all his bits were tucked back out of view. You leaned back against the crook of his hips, feeling the slow rise and fall of his belly at your back. You were so tired, how many times had you been on the run in the last cycle alone? Your body desperately craved sleep, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bounty. Anger crept its way back into your eyes again, and you wanted to take it out on her, channel your inner rancor. No, she’s already lost. Go to sleep.

But the merciful tug of sleep didn’t come, and when you realized why you felt foolish. The child’s pram was on the ground where you had pushed it next to his fathers’ armored head. He was sleeping like a little prince, and didn’t move at all when you pulled him out of the crib. When he was situated in your arms you pulled Mando’s cloak around the three of you for extra warmth. Sitting upright was a horrible way to sleep, but with the baby safely in your arms and a blaster at your side, you were able to catch a handful of winks.

You woke up many times that night, worried that something might happen to your baby or your partner, and each time your eyes shot open you glared at the dark form in the grass; though not once did it move. Still, you didn’t trust that you were safe, and only when the rim of the planet that dominated the sky drifted over the horizon could you actually keep your eyes closed. But the blissful comfort of real sleep was torn from you by your lounge chair trying to get up on its own. The rush from trying to sit up too fast knocked Mando right back down on his back, and his hands went to his armored temples to try to stop the world from spinning.

“What...where am... where’s....” He shot up like a bolt of lightning “WHERE’S MY SON?!”

“Right here!” You turned yourself to show the bug-eyed bundle to his father, letting him see that the child was safe. Mando wrapped his arms around you and the child, and you could hear his quick, shuddering breaths coming out from under the helmet. The hug was tight, a comforting fortress around your shoulders.

“Are you ok? What happened? Why are we in the grass? Where’s the bounty? Did she get away?” His questions gushed like a river, urgent and frightened. You pointed at where the Ardennian was still on the ground, far enough away that she was out of earshot. She was awake now, but still immobilized. Her eyes were fixed on you, and you could see the edges of her mouth turning upwards into a snarl to bare her teeth. Din’s hands were all over you, inspecting you for damage, and his breath caught in his throat when he reached your waist. Big, ugly red and purple fingerprints were swelling up between the scrapes on your skin, and he pushed the edge of your makeshift skirt down to follow their horrifying trail; they were everywhere.

“Who did this to you?”  The volcano behind the beskar threatened to erupt with molten malevolence, “Did she do this to you?”

“No Mando,” you sighed, a little hurt that he didn’t remember. “You did.” The wall of metal armor went stiff as a rail, his visor locked on your eyes, looking for the truth. But the truth was right in front of him, and he couldn’t accept it.

“What? N-no.. I would never... I could never hurt you, cyar’ika! Please... please tell me that I didn’t do this.” His fingers ghosted over your marks, but never touched them, his hands afraid of dealing more damage to your lovely skin. “I-I couldn’t have... I’m... I’m so sorr-” You cut him off with a hand on his helmet where his mouth might be.

“It’s not your fault, you were poisoned. I’m just glad you’re alive, Din.” The sound of his own name made his shoulders droop and his hands come up cradle your cheeks. You couldn’t meet his visor, the closeness of the distraught hunter making you flustered, so you tried to crack a joke. “I’m just glad you wanted to fuck me instead of the Ardennian.” The way his helmet snapped backwards made you realize he didn’t remember that part either. “Oh don’t look at me like that, I took it like a champ! You’re gonna have to do better than bruises to hurt this mighty hunter!” Your attempted words of comfort didn’t seem to work, and he pulled you and the wiggly child back to his chest in a world-erasing hug.

“Please just tell me you know I wouldn’t do this to you on purpose, I never want to hurt you again. Please.”

“Mando! I’m fine, really.” He held your head firmly, the blackness of the visor trying to bore though your very soul. You nodded in his grasp, “I know you didn’t, it’s alright, Din. I forgive you.” The force of his helmet knocking against your forehead almost made you see stars. His hands were wrapped around your head, holding you as close as he could in the intimate gesture of his people. You didn’t blame him at all for what happened, but it would be a while, if ever, before he could forgive himself.

“Oh isn’t that puke. Spare me the lovey-dovey crap and take me back to the Guild already! Buncha bucketheads.” You didn’t want to address the Ardennian that hollered at you from from the grass, but the beskar bucket turned on her in a heartbeat. He sprang to his feet in a flash, pulling the pulse rife from the ground and firing, stunning the target for the fourth time, fifth time, sixth, seventh.

He’s gonna kill her. You grabbed at his arm, demanding his attention “Mando, you got her, it’s over! It’s done.” Stance wide and chest heaving, the barrel of the long rifle stayed trained on the bounty for what seemed like an eternity before being lowered back to the ground. “Good, good, see, everyone’s ok. Let’s get back to the Crest and get out of here, sound like a plan?” He nodded, still watching the limp-again simian for signs of movement. When he was sure there wouldn’t be any more argument he stalked over to the quarry and slung her over his shoulder, ready to make the long march back to the ship. You set the baby back in his pram so you could take a second to grab everything off the ground, making sure you had your pack and your mask, and followed Mando back through the woods.

After hours of silent hiking, the Razor Crest came into view, and you had never been so happy to see the old girl, pretty as a plum in the violet haze. Once everyone was aboard, the fog of the carbonite chamber filled the tiny cabin to the brim, and left a new dark block in its wake. The Ardennian’s body was limp, though thankfully still alive; but the mischievous sneer couldn’t be erased so easily. You took a deep breath, sighing with relief that this hunt was over. Two down, one to go. Then Nevarro.

Your Mandalorian hadn’t spoken to you the entire trek back to the ship, and he was distracting himself by placing all the weaponry back in their spots in the cabinet. He’s still upset with himself. You still wore the bantha-blanket skirt, and its soft edges swished around your ankles. Gently you placed your hand on his shoulder, and he jumped violently under your touch as he was brought back to the present.

“You know I’m not mad at you, right?” He didn’t meet your eyes, but his hands stopped fussing with the armory. “Really, Din, I don’t blame you at all. I’m ok.” You tugged on his waist, bidding him to turn and face you, but still he couldn’t lift his eyes from the floor. You ran your hands from his shoulders down his chest, trying to bring him comfort with your touch, but when you saw his utility belt you remembered what was in his pockets. A flashbulb of an idea lit up in your skull, and clear as day the reason for your frivolous purchase on Tatooine made itself known. “You know what, I’m so not-mad at you that I have a present for you.” You grabbed his belt to dig through the pouches, but strong hands shot up to carefully take your wrists.

“Mesh’la no! Not after.. not after I- I can’t. I don’t deserve your affections.” Your eyes met his visor, its gaze no longer staring down at the floor and instead watching you with intensity. A smile broke it’s way out past your teeth, followed by a knowing laugh.

“No, that’s not what I meant, good thought though. No, Mand-...Din. Din, I have a gift for you.”  He hesitated to release your arms, but when you were free of his delicate hold you went back to the pockets on his belt and pulled the opalized krayt teeth from one of the pouches. Your companion’s visor followed the glittering treasures as they were brought into the light, and you wished you could see his bewildered face under the beskar. You handed them to him, and he carefully turned them over in his palm, letting the fossils catch the light and revealing their intricate patterns. His helmet tilted slowly, baffled that such beautiful things could be pulled from anywhere on his body, but the way his beskar sent streaks of light over his armor gave you a fantastic new idea.

Taking the treasures back from him you unscrewed the button fasteners that protruded from their backs, revealing the small, strong magnets hidden underneath; and pressed them up to his helmet. The teeth fit perfectly in the recesses of his cheeks, like they had been made just for him; and though you knew hunters didn’t wear adornments, they still looked lovely. “I know you can’t keep them on, especially when we go hunt, but they still look nice on you. Now you get to be my lucky charm.” His soft leather fingertips rubbed gently at his cheeks, feeling the way the indents had been filled with the precious jewels. The ship didn’t have any mirrors, and he would have to see how the swirling pools of crystalized moonlight looked the next time he took his helmet off. 

Wordlessly he reached out for you, taking your face in his hands and pulling your head to his so he could press your foreheads together. You were becoming fond of the mysterious gesture, letting the butterflies in your stomach stretch their iridescent wings and fan contentment into your heart. You pushed back against him, wrapping your own arms around his shoulders, locking his helmet to you. The whole galaxy could fly apart at the seams and you knew you would be alright, as long as you were right where you were, shielded in your Mandalorian’s embrace. I wonder if he feels the same. Tiny claws on your leg pulled your attention to the floor, and you were overjoyed to see big black orbs staring up at you.

“Little Beans! C’mere you, get in on this.” You hauled the foundling up between your bodies, letting him get a good look at you and his father. He chirped away, happily patting his papa’s fancy new trinkets, mesmerized by their shine. The little creature was full of energy, but you had been on your last leg for hours and you couldn’t stifle your yawns any longer. “Boys, I can’t keep this up anymore, you’re both awful cute, but I need sleep.”

“Of course, cyare, you’ve earned it.” Mando reluctantly stepped away from you and rolled out the Tusken sleeping mat that you had purchased. It was much thicker than the sheet originally on the little cot, and a hundred times more forgiving. You were comfy in seconds, and the warm embrace of sleep started pulling on your limbs and shutting your eyes. A different touch was on your arm, and you lazily opened one eye to see an armored hand pulling the bantha blankie up snug around you. Sweet, thoughtful murder-machine is what you had thought of him that first day, and the stupid pet name made you chuckle.

“What does that mean? That word, sire-eeka or sigh-air, they’re Mando’a, right?” You wouldn’t let sleep win you over without a fight, even if it was a fight you wanted to lose.

“Cyar’ika. The closest translation in Basic would be sweetheart, or darling.” Here we go again with Mando’a 101.

“Sweetheart, huh? Pfft... sounds like you like me or something. What’s the other word mean? You’ve never used it before now.” He sighed, long and tired, and you could see the foundling on his lap, still enthralled with the glittering opal on his fathers' metal face.

“I...I don’t know how to translate that one, but it’s more than cyar’ika, stronger, with more depth.” Something about his posture told you he might be lying, he knew exactly how to translate that word, but he wasn’t ready to tell it to you. He might, though, when he was ready.

“Alright, tin man, if you say so.” Your eyes finally let themselves close all the way, but even in the darkness behind your lids your devious hands still found their way to him, giving his hand a good squeeze. “Teach me more someday?”

“For you, ner cyare’se,” Your hand was pulled up from the blankets until the backs of your knuckles rested on the cool beskar of his brow, “I’d bring you the stars down from the sky, if you asked me to.”

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[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #274

“now i can hear the marching feet / they’re moving into the street”

What color was the last swimsuit you wore? I only have a black one. Is your dream job attainable? I mean define “dream job.” I’d ideally be a meerkat biologist if I was willing to live in Africa and could handle even mild heat, but I can’t/won’t do either of those, so it’s not obtainable to me. I’d also love to be a paleontologist if I could travel and handle heat once more, but again, I can’t. My only *attainable* dream job is being a photographer, which I am aiming for. I’d LIKE to focus on nature/wildlife photography, but that’s unlikely to be able to support me, so. Do you have to go to school or work tomorrow? N/A Have you slept for longer than usual today? Yes, but only because of my nightmares. I tend to take at least two (though sometimes one) hour-long naps during the day because if I wake up once during the night, as I usually do, I’m fucked because I’m very likely to have an intense nightmare. It seems like the medicine I’m on wears off with consciousness, I guess. I only allow myself to sleep an hour at daytime because my mother has noticed if I have a nightmare, it’s usually no earlier than one hour into sleep. Even then I still have them occasionally. Have you ever taken classes for a musical instrument? Recorder in elementary school was necessary for whatever stupid reason, and then I played the flute for years. Out of school, I took guitar lessons for a while. I got semi-decent (at best I could do the intro to “Crazy Train” at normal speed, I think), but it didn’t last because it was annoying/time-consuming to build up the calluses that make playing painless, I was really bad at overthinking where my fingers were, and I just wasn’t invested quite enough. I’ll tell you, it gave me mad respect for guitarists, that shit isn’t easy by any means. Have you ever been on vacation with someone other than your family? Yes, though it was brief. I was a kid (okay, pre-teen, w/e) still in my separation anxiety from Mom phase and it was literally because of me we had to go home. I still feel shitty about it, though no one seemed upset at me. How old do you think you’ll be when you move out on your own? Who the fuck even knows anymore. Do you have a job? If so, where do you work? If not, do you want one? No; N/A; yes ultimately but no at the current moment because I have to keep watch over Mom. If you wear make-up, which brand of foundation/powder do you use? N/A Would you call yourself a “people” person? Nope. What is one change you need to make in your life this month? Just one??? What’s been tugging on your heart lately? My PTSD plus self-image has been very, very bad. What is the last thing you did that made you feel guilty? Mom had to clean up my cat’s projectile vomit even though she’s supposed to stay away from this kinda stuff through chemo. I literally cannot fucking touch vomit, never mind what came out of him that night. I felt like absolute fucking shit and I still do because WOW I’m a great adult right!! Do you have any physical traits that are bothering you lately? Like, everything. What kind of dog is your favorite? I’m biased to beagles. What was the last thing you received in the mail? A book. What is the last thing you wrote? Like, physically? My signature at the doctor’s office. Do you still care about the person you first kissed? Way fucking more than I should. Do you require a lot of private time? Definitely more than most people. Do you have any songs currently stuck in your head? I haven’t listened to it in forever for ~reasons~, yet “The Mortician’s Daughter” is stuck in my head badly and really needs to fuck off. What was the last song you downloaded? I dunno, I went on a download binge a while back. Have you ever read a really funny book? I remember at least one. “Bite Me” by IDR-Who. Some vampire satire. Have you ever done something humiliating while drunk? Never reached the point of being drunk. How would you react if your celebrity crush came to your door? fuckin YIKES I am NOT attractive rn go away Has your mom/dad ever walked in on you kissing or anything more with someone? HAHA my mom has always had the decency to knock, not so much his mom a;lwkejrewoei but the answer’s still no. What electronics are in your room? (DVD player, CD player, etc) This laptop, my phone, a Nintendo DS, my iPod… Do you have a box anywhere with special items you'll to keep forever in it? Yes, actually. Grew up calling them “treasure boxes.” Do you have any pictures of yourself on your bedroom walls? Lol no, I’d definitely prefer to not see myself as much as I can. That sounds melodramatic, but I’m being serious. It either depresses me or makes me angry. Does your dad collect anything? The Cleveland Browns’ football team stuff, for one. Maybe Carolina Hurricane stuff, too? Idk. I don’t live with him and don’t go in his “man cave” at his house often ha ha. What's better, a desktop or laptop? Explain. A laptop. Portable; that’s all the explanation ya really need. Do your parents still hide chocolate eggs around on Easter for you? Nah. What do you typically do on Easter Day? We go to my sister’s house to watch the kids do their egg hunting and open their gifts, then we usually go to Ashley’s in-laws’ for dinner. Is there anyone you literally need to exist? Apparently not. Thought so. Never let yourself into that state of mind. What would you prefer to get from a guy/girl: flowers, a hand-written poem, a picture he drew of you or a nice night out? Oh, a hand-written poem would wreck me, yeesh. Or a drawing. But any would be very sweet. Do you remember why you made the last mistake you did? I don’t know the most recent mistake, but probably because I’m just in general a terrified person who second-guesses or overanalyzes everything. Did you check how many calories the last thing you ate had? Yes. I’m back on my calorie-counting obsession again. Are your nails long or short? Short, always. I can’t keep them long. What is your favorite kind of cookie? Just the ordinary chocolate chip is fine. What was the last compliment you received? I don’t know. Who will be the next person you kiss? I normally delete this question because the answer should be so obvious, but I feel like just pointing it out that no one fucking knows who they’re gonna kiss next. It’s a dangerous mindset. Don’t make assumptions about what you’ll have even tomorrow. Have you ever made your own icon? Yeah, on many sites. They’re just about always just edits, though, not truly original work. What color is your computer mouse? It’s black. Have you ever been sung to on your birthday in a restaurant? Yes. Do you like black olives? I don’t like olives period. Do you actually think there will be a zombie apocolypse? Personally, no. I do think it’s scientifically possible, we already see this in insects, but I just don’t imagine it happening to humans before we’re our own downfall. Do you like the person you’ve become over the past years? Fuck no. Have you ever gone to church just to get a significant other? … No…? Have you ever punched a wall out of complete anger? No, that shit is terrifying. Are you really ticklish? YES don’t fucking touch me. How do you decide what you're going to eat each day? I just follow what I’m craving that day. How are you similar to your siblings? Different? Compared to Ashley and Nicole at least, I can’t think of any real similarities off the top of my head. They’re intelligent, motivated, outgoing, successful, yada yada, then there’s me. What's your favorite type of non-fiction literature? Autobiographies by people I’m actually interested in. Do you believe in souls? Soulmates? Souls, absolutely. Soulmates, no. It’s fairytale ideation to think your soul has a perfect match with another, hate to break it to ya. Favorite soundtrack? BITCH don’t make me choose between Shadow of the Colossus and Silent Hill 2. Fucking masterpieces. Pianos or guitars? *shrugs* Depends on the music and my mood. Did an animal ever bite you? Never seriously. How many languages do you speak? Only English fluently. I’m poor at German by now. Wiggly worms or bumble bees? Worms gross me out, bees are Good Boys. Religion? I don’t really identify with any. I just believe there’s some form of ultimate intelligence and essences beyond just the body, and that’s all I even pretend to know. Fog, thunder, or rain? Fog gives me that Silent Hill Vibe *Italian kiss* What regret keeps coming back to haunt you daily? The way I treated Jason after the breakup. If you could cure yourself of one allergy, what would it be? Damn pollen. Do you know anyone else with your name? Yeah. What would you be most afraid of happening if you were to visit Africa? Viruses or botflies. Where are you tempted to move to sometimes? I very legitimately want to live in Canada by now, but I won’t because I’m not moving that far from family. Who seems like they have the perfect life? I try not to make that assumption of anyone. Do you ever take pictures of negative moments? Does taking pictures of roadkill count???? lmao probably Do you think it would be a good idea to post photos of negative moments as well as positive? Well… I guess it depends. Like ngl, the pictures some people share of them having panic attacks to just show how fucking real they are definitely touch you, as do those depicting poverty, etc., BUT I really do think there are limits and also differences in motivations. What time zone are you in? EST. Would you ever post a picture of yourself crying on social media? Wow, speaking of. No. ^Why or why not? I am an UGLY cry-er, my man. But I also just don’t want people to see that, and it’s definitely not on my mind to take a picture during a breakdown. What was the last thing you cried about? My life. Have you ever held a newborn baby? Yes. Do you know anyone who has twins? Yes. Where do you buy calendars from? I don’t. Do you shop at the dollar store often? Not *often*, but we’ll stop by for a snack or something sometimes. Are you following in the career path of any family members? No. Do you feel you missed out on a lot as a kid? I guess in some ways. Who was that best friend you ever had? Sara. What color is your laptop? Black. What are five careers you think you’d be good at? My work history has shown I can’t do shit right. Are you thriving in your life right now? lmao no one is in 2020. Who do you have moral support from? My family, doctor, and a few friends. Who encourages you to go after your dreams? The same as above. Do you have people in your family who want you dead? Wow, I hope not. Do you have a walk-in closet? No, but my room at the new house will. :’) Not that I need one, it’s just pretty cool. How do you feel about people like Elon Musk, Bill Gates, and Jeff Bezos having so much power and control in the world? Do you believe that any one person should have so much power? Let’s be real, in our current world, money is power, and no one should have that much control of the world, especially if your intentions are bad. NOW I don’t know jack shit about any of those are far as morals go, but just saying. It’s dangerous. Has your anxiety alone ever prevented you from doing something you wanted to do? This is ACTUALLY the story of my fucking life. Do you enjoy reading stories and novels that are heavily stylistic, poetic, or unconventional or do you prefer your prose to follow a familiar grammatical structure? Okay, I LOVE those, like Johnny Got His Gun and The Handmaid’s Tale that’s kinda like, run-on writing. Just letting a train of thought go. Those are two of the most powerful books I’ve ever read and they’re both written in a unique fashion. Have you ever fallen for any sort of Internet-based hoax? (e.g., fake celeb death, satire news article…) I’m sure at some point, especially as a kid. Do you tend to read reviews before you watch a movie or read a book? What do you hope to get out of doing so? NO. I don’t wanna have any precognition. When you go to a concert, how far must you travel for the most usual venues you visit? Most are on the other end of the state, and NC is long, so. We’re lucky if they come to Raleigh. Do you rent movies frequently? I never do, really. What is your favorite thing to do outside? Take pictures or swim. What’s your favorite meal to cook? I don’t cook. What movie has been taken WAY too far, as far as sequels go? Oh, I’m sure there are some, but none immediately come to mind. I’m not that into movies. Do you refuse to eat certain foods because of what they look like? Yes. I am VERY poor at getting past how a food looks. What are you listening to? NSP’s cover of “Don’t Fear The Reaper.” It’s fuckin gorgeous. How much homework do you have tonight? N/A Are you wearing any bracelets? Yes; one that Sara got me as well as an ovarian cancer awareness one. What's physically wrong with you right now? JINKIES I just feel really lethargic like always. Do you take any medications daily? Ha ha thanks for actually reminding me I need to now. When was the last time you moved to a new house? Two years ago, and now we’ll be moving to a much better place by the end of this month/early September, finally. When it comes to relationships, are you the jealous type? Nah. Which gift cards do you have in your wallet? Idk actually. It’s not like I use it a lot. Can you remember the last time you felt ill? What was wrong with you? A few nights ago. I was extremely hot, dizzy, and pretty nauseated. I was fine, though. If you wear make-up, do you take it with you, to reapply throughout the day? Does your make-up stay for a long time after you first apply it, or do you find that you need to reapply often? Are you wearing any make-up atm? I pretty much never wear makeup so have never really had a reason to reapply it. I’m definitely not wearing any now. Does your kitchen have a theme? No. Do you like ice cream sandwiches? GIRL yes. Do you prefer earbuds or headphones? Earbuds. They’re more comfortable imo but more importantly block out exterior noise very well. Are you a fan of any independent films? ngl, I don’t know exactly what that is and I don’t feel like looking it up. Could you possibly write a successful novel? I very genuinely think some of the RP stories I’ve taken part in are novel-worthy, yes. I wanted to make them books when I was younger, but now I no longer do mainly because there are areas that are just way too fucking dark that I don’t wanna put out there but play massive parts in the stories, so like… Do you regularly watch the news? I never do. Facebook is my “news” source lmao. Who was the last person you video-chatted with? I don’t remember for sure, maybe some doctor? What do you want the theme of your wedding to be? I don’t really think about this, seeing as my mind has changed enough, and it also depends on what my partner wants, too. Have you ever been caught passing a note in class? Noooo, I absolutely hated passing notes because I was genuinely a good student. I only did so very, very rarely if another friend started it. Have you ever had dandruff? I have dandruff AND a dry scalp. It’s a wonderful mix. Have you ever gone through a phase of crushing on EVERYONE? Definitely not. Do you have any clothes with spikes/studs on them? I have a spiked choker, and I might still have gloves with studs? Can you remember what you last clapped for? My mom’s birthday! :’) Have you ever given a pet to someone else? Yes, with cats; we had to do that quite often when I was a kid because we had so many cats, none which we could afford to fix. Then we’ve done it with two dogs we just couldn’t handle. Oh yeah, I gave my iguana away too because he was too high maintenance for me, but also because he DESPERATELY needed a much bigger terrarium, which we couldn’t afford. I absolutely could not watch him in that tiny tank. I miss him a LOT, but he went to a wonderful home! The lady who adopted him sent me pictures upon pictures months after taking him in. Do you know anyone named Walter? No. What's your least favorite ice-cream flavor? Strawberry is fucking disgusting. And that’s coming from someone whose favorite fruit is strawberries. What's your least favorite song by your favorite artist? I’m not sure. There’s a handful that just don’t grab my attention that I don’t even remember them. What was the last good news you heard? I can FINALLY talk to my psychiatrist tomorrow. Who’s your favorite singer of all time? Probably Freddie Mercury. What airline do you fly most? Idk, I don’t really pay attention. I haven’t flown very often though anyway. Do you have a dog that is destructive? I don’t have a dog. What’s one TV series you’ve seen every episode of? Meerkat Manor is the most obvious, ha ha. Maaaaany times. Assuming you have Facebook, who last left you a wallpost? Probably my friend Sammi. Assuming you have hair, how are you wearing it today? It’s too short for me to “wear” it any particular way. It’s just… there lmao. Assuming you're not homeless, what kind of living arrangements do you have? I live with my mom in a house she’s renting. Have you or have you ever considered messing around with the same sex? I’m bisexual so you can guess I’m not opposed to it. Are you particular about any brands of food you will or will not eat? Are there any restaurants you refuse to go to? Brands, no. I don’t eat Chick-fil-a because they’re run by fucking homophobic bigots that monetarily support conversion therapy and other anti-LGBT projects. I’m not giving you any fucking money. What was the most current dream you can remember about? Do you generally dream every night, or hardly at all? It was actually last night, when I dreamed about accidentally running into Jason where I last knew he worked, and he was really hostile. If I don’t take my medicine, I always have nightmares when I sleep.

[two-halves-of-reylo]

I am using the prompts to try and write a larger, post TLJ story. Here’s this week’s chapter:

Poe had very nearly wet his pants.

A cargo ship had arrived on Storia 2A90 from one of the newly declared allies. It had next level cloaking systems, advanced enough to thwart the First Order’s ability to trace it through light speed, and had delivered to them a new fleet of X-wing fighters. 

It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, but it was a promising start. 

The arrival of the fighters continued to build the air of hope among the growing band of rebels.

One of the vessels stood out, a customised dark-hulled beast. It had been delivered already inscribed in silver, ‘Black One’.

Poe patted the hull and kissed it, saying, “Come to papa, baby.” He bent low to the ground and scratched his fingers across the top of his favourite droid. “This one’s for us, right, buddy?” BB-8 spun in mad circles, his skittery beeps and chirps signally his excited agreement. 

Invigorated by the arrival of the new fleet, Poe leapt into action. 

Lieutenant Connix sat behind a databank of screens. Poe rested a hand on her shoulder, winked at her and said, “It’s time to get this resistance across the galaxy. Am I right?” 

He was oblivious to the deep blush that stained her cheeks. “Y-yes, Commander Dameron.”

“If feels good to be called than again, Connix, real good.”

Many of the rebel pilots were fledging, still in training, but there were also newly arrived and more experienced recruits arriving daily from planets across the galaxy and stretching into the outer rim. 

Poe organised them into teams, for flight training, but also for daily scouting and surveillance of the planet and its atmosphere. He coordinated between using the land speeders and the fighters, leaving nothing to chance. If the First Order were to locate the new base before they had a real chance to rebuild, all would be lost.

Rose was on her feet, but still recovering from her injuries, and requiring plenty of daily rest. Finn was often with her, attentive and kind as ever, but Rey could tell he was itching to be of more use.

Rey arranged for Finn to join her on a scouting run to the mountain range south of the base. They took two land speeders. 

Halfway to their destination Rey caught Finn edging just ahead of her speeder. She looked over at him but he was staring, nonchalant, straight ahead. She edged her speeder just in front of his. Without a glance in her direction he nudged into the lead once more. Within minutes they were outright racing, swooping over the dips and rises of the sandy surface. Finn was so loud, Rey could hear his shouts, even from inside her cockpit.

As the more experienced pilot, Rey pulled a manoeuvre that had her reaching the destination first, with ease. She laughed and the sound of it inside her cockpit shocked her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt carefree enough to laugh out loud. It felt good.

They took their lunch break, sitting in a shallow but cool cave, several metres above the ground. The position gave them a wide outlook to the horizon. The day was clear. It was sad to see the lack of life, of daily activity on the mostly uninhabited planet, thanks to the First Order. The rocky mountains surrounding them had formed from ancient volcanoes and gave off a whiff of sulphur, especially when warmed by the sun. Rey was grateful for an upwind that kept the air around them fresh.

After so long apart and weeks of chaotic activity, it was at last a quiet and private moment between the two friends. Rey didn’t know when she would get another chance, so she took the opportunity to try and get Finn to open up. 

As she had feared, Rose’s romantic feelings were not reciprocated.

Rey said, “The longer you leave this, the worse it will be. If you don’t feel the same, you have to tell her.”

“The thought of hurting Rose terrifies me,” said Finn. His shoulders slumped. “I do love her. She’s brave, funny, and she risked her own life to save me. I owe her everything. I just don’t…love her that way.”

“We saved each other too. I love you as a friend. You don’t owe me more than that.”

“It’s…different with Rose. You don’t see the way she looks at me.”

Rey handed Finn a Crohler sandwich from the cooler they had brought. He picked at it without much interest. 

Rey thought about the way she had seen Rose’s face light up, whenever Finn was around. She said, “No, I have.”

Finn said, “I have no experience with…this. The First Order, they treated us like machines. We weren’t allowed to form attachments. We were beaten and sent to isolation if they even suspected we had…favourites.” 

He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he stared at the ground. A small gathering had appeared near his feet. They were tiny critters with four short legs and long tails. They were no bigger than a large insect but they seemed to be a mixture of reptile and bird. Their scaly skin was covered with short blue and green feathers. Finn tossed them some crumbs from his lunch. One of the critters had a trunk that extended in membranous sections from its head, each new section advancing with a clacking sound. The creature sucked up a few of Finn’s crumbs. It stilled for a moment and then spat out the food in violent disgust, chitting and squeaking. The other critters responded to the warning and scattered into narrow fissures in the cave wall.

Rey stared at her friend, helpless. She thought hard about what she could say that might help.

She had exactly zero experience with relationships.

Back on Jakku, she had used her staff to beat off the odd trader who thought she was bargaining with more than she was prepared to offer. Before BB-8 and Finn had entered her life, she didn’t even have friends, not really.

Thinking about fighting, for some reason her mind went straight to Ben. She suddenly felt hot and uncomfortable, despite the cool surroundings. She wiped away beads of sweat on her upper lip and brow. There was nothing in her complex relationship with Ben that could offer solace to anyone.

Finn spoke suddenly, a blurt. “We hid it, but there was someone, once.” He paused, embarrassed, and chewed on his bottom lip. “It didn’t get far as relationships go, but we cared for each other.” He drew in a breath that seemed to hurt and released it quickly. “He was killed on my first mission.” He looked up into Rey’s face. “When I defected. On Jakku.”

“Oh.”

“Seeing Zuk reach for me as he died, being powerless…it was the final straw. Then Kylo Ren ordered us to kill everyone…I couldn’t.” 

At the mention of Kylo…Ben, Rey’s discomfort grew, like a hard, twisted knot inside her. There was such a disconnect between the monster she’d first met, the monster she knew who had ordered such atrocities, and the conflicted young man she came to know on Ahch-To. That man had saved her life by killing Snoke, he had been the partner she fought with against the Praetorian Guard. Somehow, despite the monstrous things he had done under Snoke’s control, she had seen there was still good inside him, a glimmer of hope for his future. 

Rey thought how impossible it would be to convince someone like Finn of this, someone whose hatred of Kylo Ren was utterly justified. She was riddled with guilt for keeping her Force connection with Ben a secret, but she didn’t know how she could ever explain it to Finn or any other member of the resistance.

Finn had thrown the sandwich back into the cooler and had picked up a stick. He was tracing patterns into the sand at his feet. “Most Storm Troopers are men, but I don’t think it would have mattered.” He blinked up at Rey. “That’s what I like.”

Rey hesitated. “So you haven’t been attracted to anyone else, since you left?”

“Well.” Finn shrugged inside his brown, leather jacket and fiddled with the cuffs. “I have. Not that it will do me any good. I don’t think he flies that way. Anyway, he’s a bit of a tart.”

*

The sleeping quarters were a barracks, abandoned by the original inhabitants on Storia. The barracks were large enough to house a small city:  a series of simple pods and common areas cut into an enormous cave, a rabbit warren of tunnels interconnecting them.

Tossing from side-to-side in her narrow cot, Rey was frustrated. Thoughts of Ben Solo and her Force bond with him were haunting her. Every time she drifted off, it was only to dream again and again about their moments together, or to extend them, play them out with different outcomes, outcomes that made her huff out loud.

The signs of the Force connection opening were easy to recognise. It always started the same: a slight pressure inside her head, a muffled thrum and then a pop.

She opened her eyes and rolled over to face the wall.

He was there.

Ben was sitting on the ground, his back resting against something, one leg bent. His shoulders seemed broad enough for two people, his presence vast enough to rob the room of air.

He was staring at her, but when their eyes made contact, he looked away. As usual, his surroundings were invisible to Rey. He looked exactly the same as the last time she had seen him.

Rey’s eyes darted to Leia’s cot and back to Ben. She knew he couldn’t see her, well she hoped not, but Leia was his mother, and she was strong with the Force.

“We’re not alone?” Ben said.

Of course he would sense something, damn him.

Rey shook her head, hating the way his voice sent a shiver across her skin and made her stomach muscles tighten.

It was the first time the Force bond had opened with another person so close by. Except for when Luke had caught them holding hands. That hadn’t ended well. Rey didn’t know why, but she sensed that Ben being able to see his mother right now might not be such a good thing. Even if Leia suspected something was going on between Rey and Ben, Rey wasn’t ready to share the knowledge of the Force bond with the rest of the resistance, not until she understood it better for herself. She didn’t want to think about how they might want to use it to their advantage.

It was selfish of course, but she wanted to keep their connection private, for now, just between the two of them.

Rey’s eyes flicked to the other cot again, but Leia hadn’t moved and appeared to be in a deep sleep.

Ben’s dark hair fell in soft waves on either side of his face. It was a waste for a man to have hair like that. Betraying that thought, Rey’s fingers itched, wondering what his hair would feel like to touch.

He spoke slowly, thoughtfully. “I can sense, a presence, a colour. Someone strong with the Force.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “My mother?”

Rey nodded, silently.

“Is she…is she alright?” He was working his mouth, uncomfortable with the question. His eyes glistened often but Rey thought this time it wasn’t from anger but instead, concern.

He was dressed from head to toe in his customary black and he was sitting on his cape. Despite the overwhelming hulk of him and the presence of so much black, Rey didn’t see the dark lord, the commander calling orders to destroy the resistance against the First Order. 

She saw a vulnerable young man.

Rey considered her reply. Her observation from a few days ago, that Leia was diminishing, wasn’t quite right. By day, and to the rest of the rebels, she was the general they knew: focused, feisty, and occasionally irascible. At night, well it was different. Diminishing wasn’t the right word. It was more like she was preparing for something.

Transitioning? 

Leia lay very still, as though in a trance, and Ben was right, she almost seemed to glow with blue/green light.

“I think so,” Rey whispered.

“I didn’t fire on her, on the command ship, I want you to know that. I…couldn’t.” Rey watched him and fought the compassion that rose within her. He lived with such constant conflict; it hurt to watch him grapple with it.

Ben said, “But I saw the bridge destroyed.” He frowned and looked away, lost in the memory. “I couldn’t see how she could have survived…but then I sensed her again, alive, on Crait.” He shook his head and shrugged. “Despite everything, I was relieved.”

Ben looked up and they stared at each other. Rey was only wearing a thin tank top and no arm or chest bands. Self-conscious, she drew the blanket up from her waist to under her chin.

“You know I can’t hurt you here,” he said. His voice was soft now.

“Do you want to?”

He gazed at her for a long moment. Those enormous, expressive brown eyes drew her in, sometimes sad, sometimes longing for…Rey didn’t dare think what. Ben pressed his lips together tightly, and a muscle worked in his jaw. “No,” he ground out.

“What’s changed?”

“I was angry at your…rejection.”

Rey rolled her eyes. It was hard to stay quiet at that. She had rejected the First Order, the dark side of the Force, Ben’s desire to rule over everything and everyone, not Ben as a person. She asked him to join them, and even now she couldn’t help the fact that she was relieved that they could still be connected like this.

Instead of responding, she kept her voice low and said, “Why aren’t you in bed? Don’t you ever sleep?”

Uncharacteristically, half his mouth lifted. It was completely unexpected and disarming. “Is that an invitation?”

She felt her face flame. “What? No.”

He waved the wrist that was resting on his bent knee, a casual, dismissive gesture, and grinned. 

Ben Solo teased her now?

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said.

Angered at being teased, Rey’s tone became accusatory. “What are you doing? Are you trying to find us? The rumours in the galaxy say you are, but no one knows where you are looking.”

Those eyes again. “Do you want me to?”

Was it her imagination, or did everything he was saying tonight seem laden with extra dangerousness?

It was probably her discussion today with Finn about relationships.

Stars above, why was she thinking about relationships?

“Why does everyone think I killed Snoke?” she said, instead of answering his question.

“Really?” he said. “After you were gone, Hux came in, and-” Ben’s attention was drawn away, he stood up to address someone or something in his world. Then he was gone, the Force bond broken.

Rey was woken a second time that night, a few hours before dawn. 

Almost panicking, she threw on her boots and an old jumper and ran, breathless, bursting into Poe’s quarters without even thinking about knocking. Luckily he was alone and she shook him awake. 

Rey said, “It’s the General. Come now.”

Poe slept, ready for an emergency, and was already wearing pants and a shirt. He pulled on his boots, then reached for the holster belt for his blaster.

“No time for that,” said Rey, pulling his hand.

Rey and Poe raced down the corridors, BB-8 at their heels.

Poe’s boots slid to a stop on the stone floor as they reached the entrance of the sleeping chamber. Leia was laying still, silent and deathly pale in her bed. The blue/green glow surrounding her was noticeable to anyone.

Rey’s heart was in her throat. Was she too late?

“Shit,” said Poe, emphatically. “No, no, no. No way.” He spun on his heel to order his droid. “BB-8, get the physician. Hustle, buddy.”

BB-8 began spinning, but Leia held up her hand. “Stop,” she said in a surprisingly strong voice, although her arm fell heavily back on the bed. “There’s no need.”

“General,” gasped Poe, relieved at the sound of her voice. “You almost gave me a heart attack. Let me get the doc, there’s clearly something wr-”

Summoning all her energy, Leia cut him off. “Let go of the control stick, flyboy. LISTEN.”

BB-8 made a downward whirring sound that telegraphed, uh-oh.

“Come here, both of you.”

Rey and Poe moved to stand on either side of the bed. Leia held out her hands to each of them. Rey was shocked at how chilled Leia’s skin was to the touch. Poe, clearly impatient at the lack of activity to rectify the situation, shuffled from foot to foot.

“It’s time,” Leia said, simply.

Poe began to argue and Leia narrowed her eyes, her irrepressible internal power, silencing him.

Rey and Poe felt it at the same time. They blinked at each other, eyes wide. Leia was sending…something through them, was it the Force? Rey’s entire arm was tingling.

“It’s time for me to guide you in a different way,” Leia’s voice was growing softer. “You are the future.”

Leia’s head shifted so that she was looking directly at Rey. “You have the best instincts of anyone I know. Trust them. I know it is not in your heart to lead, but others will look to you, and be guided by your actions.”

There it was, the pressure, the thrumming and the pop. 

Not now thought Rey.

She felt him at her back.

“You are strong with the Force, Rey,” Leia continued.

“Turn around,” said Ben, unable to see or hear the rest of the room.

Rey did everything to school her expression to be neutral, to focus on Leia. She kept her back to Ben. This was not the time. 

Or was it?

He sounded pissy at first. “What are you holding? Wait.” His tone changed, deepened. “I sense something. Is it my mother?” His voice rose with alarm. “What’s wrong with her?”

Rey ignored him and heard him hiss in frustration, threatening to release his temper from its very short fuse.

Then she heard Ben’s shocked gasp.

“I can see her,” he said.

Through their bond, Rey sensed how rocked Ben was by seeing what was happening. His feelings were utter turmoil. She wondered how long it had been since Ben had last seen his mother. Was it their Force bond allowing him to see Leia now? Was she sharing her world with him?

Leia was looking directly at Rey, but Ben was standing behind her, just over her right shoulder.

Could she see him as well?

Poe was too upset and focused on Leia to notice anything strange about Rey’s expression or behaviour.

Leia was looking at Rey, but Rey could have sworn the words she spoke next were for Ben as much as for her. 

Leia said, “You are our hope and our light.” 

Behind her, Ben made a choked sound.

Rey, overwhelmed by all that was happening, felt her heart sink, because this sounded like goodbye, but Leia was smiling and squeezing Rey’s hand.

“I don’t understand. What’s happening?” Ben croaked. Rey heard the raw emotion in his voice. She couldn’t focus on him right now, but it seemed he was caught up in his own thoughts anyway. “Her hair is so grey. Did I do that?”

Leia turned her head on the pillow to make eye contact Poe. The effort seemed to drain her. “I know you are brave. The bravest…and the best pilot I’ve ever known.”  Poe tried to smile at that. “I hope I have taught you the wisdom of knowing when to retreat, of knowing when the losses are too great to bear.” Then she added, “You’ll be a great leader, General Dameron.”

Rey looked across at Poe and was shocked to see a tear run down his cheek. “Stay, boss,” he begged.

Leia’s voice was little more than a whisper. “I can’t wait to join them, you see.” She exhaled, long and slow. “Luke told me, don’t worry, no one is ever truly gone.”

Leia’s head turned and her eyes rested a final time on Rey, and she was sure, on Ben as well.

“Mom,” said Ben in a broken voice.

Rey looked down at the bed in time to see Leia vanish from this world. For a few seconds her nightclothes held the shape of her before they settled, empty and flat on the bedding.

She had never felt more fearful or alone.

[yeahnobaggage]

CHAPTER THREE:  FEAR

Poe had very nearly wet his pants.

A cargo ship had arrived on Storia 2A90 from one of the newly declared allies. It had next level cloaking systems, advanced enough to thwart the First Order’s ability to trace it through light speed, and had delivered to them a new fleet of X-wing fighters.

It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough, but it was a promising start.

The arrival of the fighters continued to build the air of hope among the growing band of rebels.

One of the vessels stood out, a customised dark-hulled beast. It had been delivered already inscribed in silver, ‘Black One’.

Poe patted the hull and kissed it, saying, “Come to papa, baby.” He bent low to the ground and scratched his fingers across the top of his favourite droid. “This one’s for us, right, buddy?” BB-8 spun in mad circles, his skittery beeps and chirps signally his excited agreement.

Invigorated by the arrival of the new fleet, Poe leapt into action.

Lieutenant Connix sat behind a databank of screens. Poe rested a hand on her shoulder, winked at her and said, “It’s time to get this resistance across the galaxy. Am I right?”

He was oblivious to the deep blush that stained her cheeks. “Y-yes, Commander Dameron.”

“If feels good to be called than again, Connix, real good.”

Many of the rebel pilots were fledging, still in training, but there were also newly arrived and more experienced recruits arriving daily from planets across the galaxy and stretching into the outer rim.

Poe organised them into teams, for flight training, but also for daily scouting and surveillance of the planet and its atmosphere. He coordinated between using the land speeders and the fighters, leaving nothing to chance. If the First Order were to locate the new base before they had a real chance to rebuild, all would be lost.

Rose was on her feet, but still recovering from her injuries, and requiring plenty of daily rest. Finn was often with her, attentive and kind as ever, but Rey could tell he was itching to be of more use.

Rey arranged for Finn to join her on a scouting run to the mountain range south of the base. They took two land speeders.

Halfway to their destination Rey caught Finn edging just ahead of her speeder. She looked over at him but he was staring, nonchalant, straight ahead. She edged her speeder just in front of his. Without a glance in her direction he nudged into the lead once more. Within minutes they were outright racing, swooping over the dips and rises of the sandy surface. Finn was so loud, Rey could hear his shouts, even from inside her cockpit.

As the more experienced pilot, Rey pulled a manoeuvre that had her reaching the destination first, with ease. She laughed and the sound of it inside her cockpit shocked her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt carefree enough to laugh out loud. It felt good.

They took their lunch break, sitting in a shallow but cool cave, several metres above the ground. The position gave them a wide outlook to the horizon. The day was clear. It was sad to see the lack of life, of daily activity on the mostly uninhabited planet, thanks to the First Order. The rocky mountains surrounding them had formed from ancient volcanoes and gave off a whiff of sulphur, especially when warmed by the sun. Rey was grateful for an upwind that kept the air around them fresh.

After so long apart and weeks of chaotic activity, it was at last a quiet and private moment between the two friends. Rey didn’t know when she would get another chance, so she took the opportunity to try and get Finn to open up.

As she had feared, Rose’s romantic feelings were not reciprocated.

Rey said, “The longer you leave this, the worse it will be. If you don’t feel the same, you have to tell her.”

“The thought of hurting Rose terrifies me,” said Finn. His shoulders slumped. “I do love her. She’s brave, funny, and she risked her own life to save me. I owe her everything. I just don’t…love her that way.”

“We saved each other too. I love you as a friend. You don’t owe me more than that.”

“It’s…different with Rose. You don’t see the way she looks at me.”

Rey handed Finn a Crohler sandwich from the cooler they had brought. He picked at it without much interest.

Rey thought about the way she had seen Rose’s face light up, whenever Finn was around. She said, “No, I have.”

Finn said, “I have no experience with…this. The First Order, they treated us like machines. We weren’t allowed to form attachments. We were beaten and sent to isolation if they even suspected we had…favourites.”

He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he stared at the ground. A small gathering had appeared near his feet. They were tiny critters with four short legs and long tails. They were no bigger than a large insect but they seemed to be a mixture of reptile and bird. Their scaly skin was covered with short blue and green feathers. Finn tossed them some crumbs from his lunch. One of the critters had a trunk that extended in membranous sections from its head, each new section advancing with a clacking sound. The creature sucked up a few of Finn’s crumbs. It stilled for a moment and then spat out the food in violent disgust, chitting and squeaking. The other critters responded to the warning and scattered into narrow fissures in the cave wall.

Rey stared at her friend, helpless. She thought hard about what she could say that might help.

She had exactly zero experience with relationships.

Back on Jakku, she had used her staff to beat off the odd trader who thought she was bargaining with more than she was prepared to offer. Before BB-8 and Finn had entered her life, she didn’t even have friends, not really.

Thinking about fighting, for some reason her mind went straight to Ben. She suddenly felt hot and uncomfortable, despite the cool surroundings. She wiped away beads of sweat on her upper lip and brow. There was nothing in her complex relationship with Ben that could offer solace to anyone.

Finn spoke suddenly, a blurt. “We hid it, but there was someone, once.” He paused, embarrassed, and chewed on his bottom lip. “It didn’t get far as relationships go, but we cared for each other.” He drew in a breath that seemed to hurt and released it quickly. “He was killed on my first mission.” He looked up into Rey’s face. “When I defected. On Jakku.”

“Oh.”

“Seeing Zuk reach for me as he died, being powerless…it was the final straw. Then Kylo Ren ordered us to kill everyone…I couldn’t.”

At the mention of Kylo…Ben, Rey’s discomfort grew, like a hard, twisted knot inside her. There was such a disconnect between the monster she’d first met, the monster she knew who had ordered such atrocities, and the conflicted young man she came to know on Ahch-To. That man had saved her life by killing Snoke, he had been the partner she fought with against the Praetorian Guard. Somehow, despite the monstrous things he had done under Snoke’s control, she had seen there was still good inside him, a glimmer of hope for his future.

Rey thought how impossible it would be to convince someone like Finn of this, someone whose hatred of Kylo Ren was utterly justified. She was riddled with guilt for keeping her Force connection with Ben a secret, but she didn’t know how she could ever explain it to Finn or any other member of the resistance.

Finn had thrown the sandwich back into the cooler and had picked up a stick. He was tracing patterns into the sand at his feet. “Most Storm Troopers are men, but I don’t think it would have mattered.” He blinked up at Rey. “That’s what I like.”

Rey hesitated. “So you haven’t been attracted to anyone else, since you left?”

“Well.” Finn shrugged inside his brown, leather jacket and fiddled with the cuffs. “I have. Not that it will do me any good. I don’t think he flies that way. Anyway, he’s a bit of a tart.”

*

The sleeping quarters were a barracks, abandoned by the original inhabitants on Storia. The barracks were large enough to house a small city:  a series of simple pods and common areas cut into an enormous cave, a rabbit warren of tunnels interconnecting them.

Tossing from side-to-side in her narrow cot, Rey was frustrated. Thoughts of Ben Solo and her Force bond with him were haunting her. Every time she drifted off, it was only to dream again and again about their moments together, or to extend them, play them out with different outcomes, outcomes that made her huff out loud.

The signs of the Force connection opening were easy to recognise. It always started the same: a slight pressure inside her head, a muffled thrum and then a pop.

She opened her eyes and rolled over to face the wall.

He was there.

Ben was sitting on the ground, his back resting against something, one leg bent. His shoulders seemed broad enough for two people, his presence vast enough to rob the room of air.

He was staring at her, but when their eyes made contact, he looked away. As usual, his surroundings were invisible to Rey. He looked exactly the same as the last time she had seen him.

Rey’s eyes darted to Leia’s cot and back to Ben. She knew he couldn’t see her, well she hoped not, but Leia was his mother, and she was strong with the Force.

“We’re not alone?” Ben said.

Of course he would sense something, damn him.

Rey shook her head, hating the way his voice sent a shiver across her skin and made her stomach muscles tighten.

It was the first time the Force bond had opened with another person so close by. Except for when Luke had caught them holding hands. That hadn’t ended well. Rey didn’t know why, but she sensed that Ben being able to see his mother right now might not be such a good thing. Even if Leia suspected something was going on between Rey and Ben, Rey wasn’t ready to share the knowledge of the Force bond with the rest of the resistance, not until she understood it better for herself. She didn’t want to think about how they might want to use it to their advantage.

It was selfish of course, but she wanted to keep their connection private, for now, just between the two of them.

Rey’s eyes flicked to the other cot again, but Leia hadn’t moved and appeared to be in a deep sleep.

Ben’s dark hair fell in soft waves on either side of his face. It was a waste for a man to have hair like that. Betraying that thought, Rey’s fingers itched, wondering what his hair would feel like to touch.

He spoke slowly, thoughtfully. “I can sense, a presence, a colour. Someone strong with the Force.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “My mother?”

Rey nodded, silently.

“Is she…is she alright?” He was working his mouth, uncomfortable with the question. His eyes glistened often but Rey thought this time it wasn’t from anger but instead, concern.

He was dressed from head to toe in his customary black and he was sitting on his cape. Despite the overwhelming hulk of him and the presence of so much black, Rey didn’t see the dark lord, the commander calling orders to destroy the resistance against the First Order.

She saw a vulnerable young man.

Rey considered her reply. Her observation from a few days ago, that Leia was diminishing, wasn’t quite right. By day, and to the rest of the rebels, she was the general they knew: focused, feisty, and occasionally irascible. At night, well it was different. Diminishing wasn’t the right word. It was more like she was preparing for something.

Transitioning?

Leia lay very still, as though in a trance, and Ben was right, she almost seemed to glow with blue/green light.

“I think so,” Rey whispered.

“I didn’t fire on her, on the command ship, I want you to know that. I…couldn’t.” Rey watched him and fought the compassion that rose within her. He lived with such constant conflict; it hurt to watch him grapple with it.

Ben said, “But I saw the bridge destroyed.” He frowned and looked away, lost in the memory. “I couldn’t see how she could have survived…but then I sensed her again, alive, on Crait.” He shook his head and shrugged. “Despite everything, I was relieved.”

Ben looked up and they stared at each other. Rey was only wearing a thin tank top and no arm or chest bands. Self-conscious, she drew the blanket up from her waist to under her chin.

“You know I can’t hurt you here,” he said. His voice was soft now.

“Do you want to?”

He gazed at her for a long moment. Those enormous, expressive brown eyes drew her in, sometimes sad, sometimes longing for…Rey didn’t dare think what. Ben pressed his lips together tightly, and a muscle worked in his jaw. “No,” he ground out.

“What’s changed?”

“I was angry at your…rejection.”

Rey rolled her eyes. It was hard to stay quiet at that. She had rejected the First Order, the dark side of the Force, Ben’s desire to rule over everything and everyone, not Ben as a person. She asked him to join them, and even now she couldn’t help the fact that she was relieved that they could still be connected like this.

Instead of responding, she kept her voice low and said, “Why aren’t you in bed? Don’t you ever sleep?”

Uncharacteristically, half his mouth lifted. It was completely unexpected and disarming. “Is that an invitation?”

She felt her face flame. “What? No.”

He waved the wrist that was resting on his bent knee, a casual, dismissive gesture, and grinned.

Ben Solo teased her now?

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said.

Angered at being teased, Rey’s tone became accusatory. “What are you doing? Are you trying to find us? The rumours in the galaxy say you are, but no one knows where you are looking.”

Those eyes again. “Do you want me to?”

Was it her imagination, or did everything he was saying tonight seem laden with extra dangerousness?

It was probably her discussion today with Finn about relationships.

Stars above, why was she thinking about relationships?

“Why does everyone think I killed Snoke?” she said, instead of answering his question.

“Really?” he said. “After you were gone, Hux came in, and-” Ben’s attention was drawn away, he stood up to address someone or something in his world. Then he was gone, the Force bond broken.

Rey was woken a second time that night, a few hours before dawn.

Almost panicking, she threw on her boots and an old jumper and ran, breathless, bursting into Poe’s quarters without even thinking about knocking. Luckily he was alone and she shook him awake.

Rey said, “It’s the General. Come now.”

Poe slept, ready for an emergency, and was already wearing pants and a shirt. He pulled on his boots, then reached for the holster belt for his blaster.

“No time for that,” said Rey, pulling his hand.

Rey and Poe raced down the corridors, BB-8 at their heels.

Poe’s boots slid to a stop on the stone floor as they reached the entrance of the sleeping chamber. Leia was laying still, silent and deathly pale in her bed. The blue/green glow surrounding her was noticeable to anyone.

Rey’s heart was in her throat. Was she too late?

“Shit,” said Poe, emphatically. “No, no, no. No way.” He spun on his heel to order his droid. “BB-8, get the physician. Hustle, buddy.”

BB-8 began spinning, but Leia held up her hand. “Stop,” she said in a surprisingly strong voice, although her arm fell heavily back on the bed. “There’s no need.”

“General,” gasped Poe, relieved at the sound of her voice. “You almost gave me a heart attack. Let me get the doc, there’s clearly something wr-”

Summoning all her energy, Leia cut him off. “Let go of the control stick, flyboy. LISTEN.”

BB-8 made a downward whirring sound that telegraphed, uh-oh.

“Come here, both of you.”

Rey and Poe moved to stand on either side of the bed. Leia held out her hands to each of them. Rey was shocked at how chilled Leia’s skin was to the touch. Poe, clearly impatient at the lack of activity to rectify the situation, shuffled from foot to foot.

“It’s time,” Leia said, simply.

Poe began to argue and Leia narrowed her eyes, her irrepressible internal power, silencing him.

Rey and Poe felt it at the same time. They blinked at each other, eyes wide. Leia was sending…something through them, was it the Force? Rey’s entire arm was tingling.

“It’s time for me to guide you in a different way,” Leia’s voice was growing softer. “You are the future.”

Leia’s head shifted so that she was looking directly at Rey. “You have the best instincts of anyone I know. Trust them. I know it is not in your heart to lead, but others will look to you, and be guided by your actions.”

There it was, the pressure, the thrumming and the pop.

Not now thought Rey.

She felt him at her back.

“You are strong with the Force, Rey,” Leia continued.

“Turn around,” said Ben, unable to see or hear the rest of the room.

Rey did everything to school her expression to be neutral, to focus on Leia. She kept her back to Ben. This was not the time.

Or was it?

He sounded pissy at first. “What are you holding? Wait.” His tone changed, deepened. “I sense something. Is it my mother?” His voice rose with alarm. “What’s wrong with her?”

Rey ignored him and heard him hiss in frustration, threatening to release his temper from its very short fuse.

Then she heard Ben’s shocked gasp.

“I can see her,” he said.

Through their bond, Rey sensed how rocked Ben was by seeing what was happening. His feelings were utter turmoil. She wondered how long it had been since Ben had last seen his mother. Was it their Force bond allowing him to see Leia now? Was she sharing her world with him?

Leia was looking directly at Rey, but Ben was standing behind her, just over her right shoulder.

Could she see him as well?

Poe was too upset and focused on Leia to notice anything strange about Rey’s expression or behaviour.

Leia was looking at Rey, but Rey could have sworn the words she spoke next were for Ben as much as for her.

Leia said, “You are our hope and our light.”

Behind her, Ben made a choked sound.

Rey, overwhelmed by all that was happening, felt her heart sink, because this sounded like goodbye, but Leia was smiling and squeezing Rey’s hand.

“I don’t understand. What’s happening?” Ben croaked. Rey heard the raw emotion in his voice. She couldn’t focus on him right now, but it seemed he was caught up in his own thoughts anyway. “Her hair is so grey. Did I do that?”

Leia turned her head on the pillow to make eye contact Poe. The effort seemed to drain her. “I know you are brave. The bravest…and the best pilot I’ve ever known.”  Poe tried to smile at that. “I hope I have taught you the wisdom of knowing when to retreat, of knowing when the losses are too great to bear.” Then she added, “You’ll be a great leader, General Dameron.”

Rey looked across at Poe and was shocked to see a tear run down his cheek. “Stay, boss,” he begged.

Leia’s voice was little more than a whisper. “I can’t wait to join them, you see.” She exhaled, long and slow. “Luke told me, don’t worry, no one is ever truly gone.”

Leia’s head turned and her eyes rested a final time on Rey, and she was sure, on Ben as well.

“Mom,” said Ben in a broken voice.

Rey looked down at the bed in time to see Leia vanish from this world. For a few seconds her nightclothes held the shape of her before they settled, empty and flat on the bedding.

She had never felt more fearful or alone.

[dandelion-san]

Yuri Plisetsky & the Glowing Rock Person (4/?)

notes: Victor still hasn’t shown up lol. Otabek is vaguely from the late 1800s. i think 1870s, probably England or Scotland idk. 

Previous

--

4.

 One day, Yuri grabbed the star’s hand and a butterfly net, and dragged them out to the fields near the forest by their home. He had put on a funny hat with a wide brim and had forced the star into carrying a heavy backpack that clanged ominously when he walked.

“Where are you taking us?” the star asked sullenly. He was still not used to the heat of the sun or the calluses that were forming on his feet. He eyed the butterfly net with great suspicion. “Are you trying to catch faeries again, Yuri? You are lucky they have not cursed you yet.”

“I am not,” said Yuri, outraged. “And that was a long time ago!”

“Two months is not long at all,” the star replied, amused even as his feet ached in protest.

Yuri loudly disagreed for two months was a long time for a boy, after all. He was secretly embarrassed for that incident had happened because he was tricked into believing that the lesser faerie creatures could grant wishes, once caught. Instead, he had gotten blue eyebrows for an entire week.

The star tugged on their joined hands, forcing Yuri to stop. “So no faeries?” They paused at the edges of the forest where the branches and roots spilled over like hands scraping across the dirt. The star peered into the dense thicket, nervous for he could not see well.

Yuri let go of his hands and brought the net out like a sword. “Nay, my good sir. We are going on an adventure!” he announced pompously. Then he shrugged, voice dropping back to its normal tones. “Everyone says that the will-o’-the-wisps are near here. That’s why I brought the net and the jars, so we can make our own faerie lights.” It would certainly last much longer than regular faerie lights, and save Nikolai a bit of coin.

The star groaned. “Yuri! So we are catching faeries!” He set down the backpack and fanned himself, disgusted by the sweat drenching his shirt. He never leaked like this back when he still danced in the skies.

“They are not actually faeries,” Yuri protested. “We are just… taking them from faeries.” He crossed his arms with a scowl when the star refused to look as excited as he.

“Shouldn’t we wait until the sun sets then?”

Yuri refused to answer, not wanting to admit his slight fear of the dark.

“We will be cursed for sure,” the star said, but then sighed and hefted the backpack back on. He threw Yuri a warning glance. “But just this once. Nikolai will not be pleased if I leave you alone.”

 --

The star was tense all the way through, although he was not frightened of the large insects like Yuri was. But the forest was not as dark as they had both initially thought with the few sunbeams that managed to reach the leaf-strewn ground.

“Haven’t you been here before?” Yuri complained, heart pounding from nearly walking into a large spider web. He was starting to regret this venture. “Last year, back when Grandpa picked you up?”

The star shook his head. “I was in a lot of shock that time,” he said. “I was also too miserable to notice much of what was happening.”

Ahead of him, Yuri ducked his head and bit his lip. The star – no, Yuuri – was not miserable anymore, probably. At least, he did not seem to be hit by melancholy as much as he was the first month or so. Not that Yuri cared that much, but surely Yuuri would let him and grandfather know if he was unhappy with his current life, right?

Oblivious, the star swatted at a flying beetle that drew too close and huffed, blowing sweaty bangs out of his eyes. “I do wish to go back now,” he said.

Yuri did not listen, stopping right in front of the star. He held out a hand, forcing him to stop.

“Shh, look!” he whispered. He pointed through the trees. “A light!” And there, bobbing gently near their path, was a flickering orange flame with a shadow near it.

“Oh no,” Yuuri said.

Yuri ignored him. He readied the butterfly net and without a second thought, charged forward with a roar. “Give up the wisp, faerie, or I’ll knock you right out!”

The star scrambled after him, panting under the heavy weight of the jars. “Yuri, wait!” he called after him. “Do not shake the poor creature down like some thug – you will get us cursed – YURI.”

Yuri did not wait for the star to catch up before he leapt into the bramble. He was agile and quick, managing to bring the net up and down toward the light gracefully. But when he drew closer to the flame, what he saw was not an ugly faerie creature holding the flame captive, but the face of a surprised, handsome older boy holding a lantern.

The boy said, “What-“

Yuri did not have the time to pull back or even stop before he barreled into him and sent them both to the ground before the other could finish what he was saying.

“Owwww,” Yuri hissed, feeling the scrapes on his arms and legs.

“Yuri!” The star had finally managed to catch up to him and rushed over to pull him up. He checked him over frantically. The star winced at his injuries and wished he could take them away. They were both distracted by a groan on the ground from the other boy who Yuri had crashed into.

The boy stared at them both. There was wary surprise lingering in his dark eyes as he recovered from his fall.

“What are you doing here?” Yuri finally asked, accusing.

The star put a hand on his shoulder. “Peace, Yura.” He turned to the boy and helped him up. “I apologize for my young friend. Are you from the village?”

The boy faltered, a little dazed. “I – well, yes. Are you two travelers? I do not think I have ever seen you in the village before.”

Yuri shoved the hand off his shoulder and took a step forward, jabbing a finger to his chest. “Well I’ve never seen you before. And what are you doing, carrying a lantern in the middle of the day?”

The boy blinked. “Day?” he said. He looked down, at the light in his hand. Then he looked around, staring in bewilderment at the little patches of sunlight around them. “This is…strange. Was it not just night?” His lips turned down at the corners, as he searched the bramble around them. “Where is the path? Where is my horse?”

The star tilted his head thoughtfully. “Perhaps we should take care of your injuries back inside the house,” he said slowly, obviously thinking that Yuri must have hit him too hard.

“But the wisp,” Yuri whined, refusing to feel guilty. But he relented and threw a glare to the older boy. He could see the irony in how they had gone to the forest and found a stranger, just like with Yuuri, but he did not find any humor in it.

 --

Yet, by the time the three of them had crowded themselves into Nikolai’s home, Yuri had warmed up to the stranger who treated him kindly despite him being a ‘Russian’, whatever that was.

“And who is this?” Nikolai asked, after fussing over Yuri’s injuries. “You look like you need a good meal in you, boy. And some bandages as well.”

“This is Otabek Altin,” Yuri piped up excitedly. “He’s a foreigner.”

“I live in the village at the other side of the woods,” Otabek said, politely. “It seems I got a little lost.”

“He thought day was night,” the star added in, concerned.

Yuri rolled his eyes. They had argued a lot over their walk back over who had seen whom in the village and Otabek must surely be confused for everyone knew there was nothing on the other side of the forest, but for the sea itself. His grandfather must have thought the same because he eyed Otabek dubiously and stroked his beard.

“And where were you going?”

Otabek shrugged. “Liverpool. It is a bit far, but there is a man there willing to give me an apprenticeship.” He gave a small smile. “He is an extraordinary man, on the likes of Leonardo da Vinci if I do say so myself. But obscure, so it really is my luck that I came across him and he was so willing to take me on at my age.”

Yuri burst out laughing. “Da Vinci! What a strange name. Who is that?”

Surprised, Otabek turned to him and said incredulously, “You don’t know who da Vinci is?”

“No?” Nikolai shook his head as well but the star looked thoughtful.

“I think he made a wish on me once,” he started to say, but was interrupted by both Yuri and Nikolai who talked over him frantically.

“Tell us more!” Yuri shouted.

“Perhaps he is from a different kingdom,” Nikolai suggested. They both threw Yuuri a glare.

Otabek furrowed his brows and shook his head. “Please, I really think I should have a map. I lost mine since it was with my horse.”

Nikolai said, “Well, we should have an old one around here somewhere.” He told the three of them to wait and went to his room, emerging a minute later.

Yuri took the time in between to observe Otabek. He was surprisingly stoic-face for all that it was easy to tell his emotions. Yuri thought him a little strange, but exciting for his talk of ‘electricity’ and machines. Maybe he was from Stormhold. Yuri has heard many things about Stormhold.  

Otabek unfolded the map and studied it in silence. “This is not England,” he said finally. His fingers were curled so tight that Yuri feared the map would tear. “This – this is not a map. Is this a joke?” He looked up, eyes fierce. Nikolai frowned.

“I won that map off a goblin, boy. It is certainly not a joke.” He puffed up in pride. “It is faerie-made and changes as the land does.”

“A goblin. Faeries?” Otabek took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I am either surrounded by madmen or I am mad myself.” He opened his eyes. “Where am I?” He sounded so lost and unsure.

“Rosehill,” Yuri answered this time, naming their village. When Otabek looked uncomprehending, he added, “Cloudhold?” Otabek looked even more confused. “Faerie! You are still in Faerie!”

Otabek closed the map. “I think,” he said, “I think that I am very lost.

 --

Otabek stayed with the Plisetskys for only three days before setting out for Stormhold with Nikolai’s map.

“Perhaps you stepped into a faerie ring or crossed the path of an Unseelie,” Nikolai had said. “It happens, sometimes. But there is a place in Stormhold where the veil between Faerie and the Other Side is blurred. A place called Wall, I believe.”

The boy put on his most staunch expression, trying in vain to hide the trembling of his hands.

“Thank you,” Otabek could only say.

Nikolai shook his head. “Just be safe and do not trust any other maps. The land is whimsical after all. Stay on the paths and stay clear-headed.”

“Yessir.”

Yuri lingered nearby, miserable for he had become attached to the older boy in those three days and his fantastical stories of his world. Railroads, telegraphs, and science. It was exciting, yet Otabek seemed more interested in the world of Faerie like the airships. The boy was an inventor and artist and had drawn pictures of his described trains, the steam engines, and gears of mechanical men he called ‘automatons’.

Otabek shook Nikolai’s hand and turned to Yuri, giving him a fond clap on the shoulder. He nodded towards the star as well.

“Thank you,” he said. “You have been kind to me and given me hope.”

They watched him go from the doorway. When he was halfway down the path out of their village, he turned one last time and waved.

[aleatoryalarmalligator]

Life Story Part 11

I don't think I've ever been happy for more than six months in my entire life since I was four or so. Is that normal? I don't know how to gauge that sort of thing because I really have nothing to compare it to. It seems normal to me, but that might just be because I am kind of fucked up in a way.

So back to the story. Everything that I had mentioned with my dad occasionally knocking me down to nothing was still happening. I was still getting picked on in Kendrick. I was still unpopular. I couldn't seem to manage to have a crush on any of the boys. I still drew on my papers, got sent to the offices. I remember the school lighting very well, and the creak of the boards under the school rugging.

My mother forgot my 11th birthday party three weekends in a row. Roxanne had chilled out about being mean to me at this time. She had decorated with a cake and streamers. After the third time we stopped expecting her to arrive. And when she did, she had just bought some stuff from the good will, some socks and a music box. We had moved out of the new place that we had rented, and we had taken up residence in this old house with a basement. It was a bit bigger in this place. I made the mistake one day of shaving my arms there. For some reason this memory sticks out to me. I was always told not to, that if I started I could never stop, but I wanted to see what would happen so I took that jump. The soft baby hairs were replaced by a forest of dark upright hairs. And now to this day I shave my arms.

It was disappointing and hurtful for my mother to forget my birthday so many times in a row, but it's also in a strange way relieving to know where you stand. I think my mom's absence made me more resilient when I got older and gave me a wider appreciation for nature to a degree which would be hard to explain at this juncture. Some kids with inactive parents pine and wonder if their parents care. I pretty much knew where my mother stood. Everyone was always hungover during the day, so we all had to tiptoe until four pm or so. David could wake her up sometimes. James eyes were always bloodshot and he was so high he couldn't tell what people were even saying to him half the time. He had smelled up this disgusting downstairs room up, and he him and my mom would watch a lot of 70's kung foo. I cannot imagine how gross it must have been to be them. To be drunk all the time, wasting what was left of their semi-middle age youth in that gross smelly room going nowhere being nothing and watching those dollar store movies. Spending the last of the divorce money.

Outside, there were two female cats that kept having baby kittens. I spent all my waking hours outside with those cats, until I felt like I was a cat myself. I remember growing to really understand that mother cats have a lot of depth, and they do each other solids a lot. Eventually, this one mother cat, when she was hungry or needed a break, trusted me so much with her kittens that she would do this communicative thing where she would give me this prolonged eye contact and I could read on her face that she was having me watch her kittens till she got back. I have met people who told me that cats cannot really communicate like this, but I know for a fact they do.

I also learned that male cats rape. It's one of those unfortunate elements in nature I guess. I really don't like it, and I think it might be in situations like this that give me a strong sense that there really is no god. Forget war. Why would any sensible god give male cats a barbwired dick? It seems like many animals do a somewhat voluntary exchange. But cats, an otherwise wonderful complex and naturally beautiful creature of elegance and grace, also have this fowl rape culture thing going on that is ingrained in their nature. What sense does this make? I mean, I might see it with insects or something, but why cats? I never liked it one bit. It bothered me so much that eventually I tried my best to stand guard and prevent the male cat from getting the female cats, who were already sickly from having had so many batches. And then one day, I went outside and he had one of the baby kittens bitten to the ground and he was raping this little baby. I know he probably could not help what was making him do this, but I was so infuriated. I ran up to him and I kicked him as hard as I could. I kind of considered the female cats like a family.

I eventually took one of the little female kittens home to father's with me, and I named her Pixie. I had her for a few  years after that. Eventually, while my dad was on vacation when I was in 8th grade, she scratched one of my nephews. This made Roxanne's boyfriend at the time creepy angry, and he took her and dragged her to death in the back of his truck. I didn't know it had happened for a long time after that, but eventually Roxanne admitted this to me. She wasn't apart of it, and had only heard it after the fact. She had been afraid to tell me for some time. It makes me deeply sick in the stomach just thinking of that.

For a short time we had a dog as well. She was on the side of the road. Someone had dumped her because she was obviously a handful. She loved to get loose and roll in dead animal. We named her Angel. Eventually she ran away and never returned. I can only hope she found a good home.

I started going to Sunday school, since the church was a two minute walk from my house. I was never religious, but the mythology of Christianity was very interesting to me. I liked talking about the symbolic significance of every detail in the bible, and going over it in class. I also liked the fact that it was brutal, unfair, and rigid. I suppose I was supposed to like the main characters, including God, but I didn't, which made the entire thing all the more fascinating. I always felt frustrated after reading the bible texts. I don't know why people think that stuff is comforting. At best, it's profound enough to where you really have to think about what it means for modern society, and at worst, it really makes you question why anyone in their right mind is buying this stuff. I was also fascinated with the genealogical order of genesis. I used to be able to name off all the prophets from Adam down to King Solomon. I often times knew their wives, and even their handmaids.

Honestly, I was a little jealous of the bible. Here I was drawing these squeaky clean Alien girls in their late teens, dressed in pure fashion and having names like Paprika and Daffodil, and there were these gritty ugly characters who were always struggling with and and under the psychosis of a sky god lunatic who were much better. And yet it addressed human greed, order, jealousy, betrayal, forgiveness, and all those things that my alien girls completely failed to.

My mom decided to start sewing for awhile. She sewed me a decent Halloween hippie costume, perhaps to make up for missing my birthday so many times in a row. It was one of the few times in that many years time that I really spent any time with her. She taught me how to sew – kind of. I remember her telling me that she was tired of telling her I hated myself. I said I hated myself a loud every day just about. But she really could not say anything really. Everyone in the house confirmed I was annoying, weird, funny looking, and obviously forgettable enough to forget my birthday. My mom also decided that she and James were going to get married. The dresses she had in mind would be green she told me. That might have been why she got her sewing stuff out. My Halloween costume was good though, and it made a splash at school. She made things into patches, and she added flare to all my sleevings of my pants and shirt.

Overall though, I was increasingly frustrated with rage and self hatred. She made me mad one day. I don't remember the reason, but I think it was because David was spoiled, or I had been overlooked or mistreated in some way. I wish I knew why, but I don't really remember. I lost complete and total control. We had about 40 board games in the closet. I found myself screaming and crying in a way I didn't ordinarily. It felt like no matter what I did I failed and I wanted to destroy myself, but I didn't have the means or the bravery to go through with it, and I wanted to tear something apart. I took every single board game, and all their parts and I poured them all over the floor. The entire room was covered in board game pieces. It was complete madness. Naturally, this didn't make anyone happy with me in the least. Everyone was told to ignore everything I said and did to make me feel like a fool. They told me to clean it up, but I wouldn't. I didn't feel good about what I had done either.  The monopoly man and the Plum dude from Candy land looked up at me accusingly. Eventually James came in and had his one little speech of things that he ever said to me for the four years I knew him. He said in this stoned hippie voice 'God man. How could you do this to your mother man?... after all your dad did to her, and now you wanna be just like him... it makes me sick... it just makes me so sick you would be so uncool. Your mother does so much for you and this is how you treat her? What's wrong with you?' and a tangent of other rhetorical nonsense.

David had grown so spoiled that I also was having troubles keeping calm in his presence. He started being very defiant and aggressive towards me and Allison and my mother. He was mean. I would find myself getting so angry, I would turn around and smack him in the face. Now, to be clear, I would not do this now. I was eleven, and this was kind of how I understood things were to be done. I was trying very hard to discipline David since he wasn't getting disciplined from my mother or father. I was so angry back then, and I didn't even have a clue on how to handle my own feelings. My mother would scream and cry and I remember she had a fight in front of the house, telling my dad over and over 'SHE'S GOING TO KILL SOMEONE DAVE!! SHE'S EVENTUALLY GOING TO KILL OUR SON!' My father didn't see me as the murdering type, and he seemed pleased that she was displeased in a postdivorce sort of way.

The most pivotal moment in this cat-house – as I have grown up calling it, though it isn't what someone might think it is by that name, was one night when I stayed up very late to watch Kiki's Delivery Service with Allison, who was four at the time. Allison had never stayed up past midnight before, and I wanted to keep her up to see what she was like. She seemed very loopy. She was babbling and talking about something or other about kitties or the movie, something a small child might talk about, and I was listening to her for fun. Suddenly, I started hearing this weird crashing noise in the other room. There was no door to that room. The windows did not open. Nobody was in that room. It was David's room theoretically, though he actually slept with my mom most of the time. I tried to ignore it, but I heard it again. It sounded like someone had picked up one of David's toys and threw it. It might have been my fear and paranoia at that point, but I felt like something in the house had gotten really wrong somehow. I didn't want to scare Allison though. If she was scared, that would make me even more frightened. She heard the noises too, but I was trying to pretend that they were not worthy of consideration so she didn't start to scream

As I sat there, what I suddenly saw blew me away and I could barely believe I was seeing it. This man figure walked through the hallway. Everything looked mostly normal, and then he just kind of moved through that part of the house, past the doorway where I could see him wandering past. He seemed to be made out of light, and I could not see his features. And then he was gone. I was beyond panicked. I was ready to start screaming and crying, but I was too afraid to even do that. I was too afraid to move. Allison seemed to have missed it. I was paralyzed for a few minutes, afraid to do anything. Nothing else strange happened, and the house seemed to return to a normal feeling, though I was still at this point so scared I was crying. Eventually I got my mother up, sure that she would see the significance. But she didn't seem to care. She was mostly annoyed that I woke her. I forced her to sleep upstairs on the couch anyway.

As an adult, and a skeptic, I can not be 100% certain what I saw was accurate. Perhaps it was my mind playing tricks on me? Allison confirmed for a fact that she heard the noises that I had heard, but she didn't see anything. It's possible, and not at all out of the realm of possibility that I might have been so scared by the initial noises that my brain made up something that wasn't there. I can never really know anything anyway now though, because the memory is a flexible unstructured thing. I generally don't go over this memory much anymore because every time you go over a memory, you change that memory. I haven't thought about a lot of these situations in years actually. I trust my memory a little better than some though. Part of the reason for this is that I have generally always written everything down, even when I was a kid. So I would memorize the words, or the story itself apart from my direct memory of it, but associated as well. Which definitely creates memory discrepancies of it's own, but at the same time it solidifies the story somewhat. All I can really do is try to be honest. And honestly, I felt with the entire fiber of my being that I had seen a ghost.

Anyway, until another sleepless night occurs.

If you want to read my life story so far, here are the previous parts.

PART 10 -  http://tinyurl.com/yb734w24

PART 9 - http://tinyurl.com/yc2t6vfw  

PART 8 - http://tinyurl.com/ybl37utq

PART 7 - http://tinyurl.com/ybvo283g

PART 6 - http://tinyurl.com/kbc9dwu

PART 5 - http://tinyurl.com/msnz4am

PART 4 - http://tinyurl.com/k9x8esg

PART 3 - http://tinyurl.com/mwp9atx

PART 2 - http://tinyurl.com/lbt6xq2

PART 1 - http://tinyurl.com/l8xbvg8