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#<- almost forgot her. the most stunning little miss
emoreooo · 2 months
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it’s always been you, wonderful you.
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amphitriteswife · 21 days
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💛🧡Rejection🧡💛
Tagging: @praisethesuuun @mizz-sea-nymph @nicasdreamer @swallowtail-lotus
I know i made it male reader but feel free to see your oc sunny!😈
Apollo x male! Reader.
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Apollo, god of the Sun, one of the 12 olympians and twin brother of the moon goddess herself, Artemis. That’s what he was most known for. Yet many forgot he was so much more than that. For example being the god of medicine, music, boys, knowledge and so much more. He was well loved among the ancient greeks. Often seen as the male beauty. In many of his famous tales Apollo falls in love with a man or woman, yet it always ends badly for them, causing Apollo to have them turned into flowers. Yet despite all the recognition, the glorious tales of him defeating the monster Python… he wasn’t always a saint.
Clutching your bow in one hand, you looked at the boar you just hunted. The boar was usually a symbol or offer to the lady Artemis herself. Once again, failing to have an offer for the god you worship. It was tiring and disappointing. Now it was a waste if you didn’t do anything with the now dead boar. Until the idea hit you that you might offer it to Artemis without entering her temple as only women or her priestesses are allowed to enter in. Walking in the direction of the temple you met one of the priestesses, giving her the boar and turning on your heel to go back to train with your bow, yet you couldn’t help but feel as if you were being followed. It was an uneasy feeling in your gut that told you to keep watching who was behind you. Ignoring the feeling but not the suspicion, you clutched your bow and narrowed your eyes. The sudden sound of leaves rattling made you alert as you quickly raised your bow, pulling out an arrow and aiming at the source of the sound, your hand pulling on the string before firing the arrow without missing a beat.
Steading your breath, you listing closely, hearing the sound of your arrow hitting something followed by a rather loud and dramatic ‘OW’ which made you a bit stunned before you hesitantly walked into the direction of where you shot your arrow. Moving some of the leaves and bushes you could finally see…a naked man in the lake? The sight was honestly a little baffling since most of the warriors were already back at the training camp, and not to mention the light shade of the pink hair which was a unusual color for human hair, walking closer you could see the little red liquid in the pond water, slowly getting thinner the more it stayed in the water. Following the trail of blood you could recognize seeing your own arrow in the right shoulder of the man. The man seemed confused as to why he suddenly got hit by an arrow. Your arrow. Guilt filled your being as you walked closer to the man, wanting to help him stop the bleeding yet when you were about to call him out he pulled out the arrow himself. His hand hovered over the cut before a yellow light surrounded the area where he ws hurt, the wound slowly closing under the dim light.
Suddenly, the man turned behind him. Staring at you wide eyed. He had hazel pupils, something that was rare, yet not unusual. You too stared back at him shocked. Who the hell was this man? Was it a magician? A witch? Should you tell someone? This can’t be real. This cannot be happening. ‘You look like you saw a ghost…well I’m even better.’ The man spoke to you, his hazel eyes focused on you. He had sharp features and a cocky arrogant smirk playing on his thin yet pink lips. He had a nice, lean yet muscular body and his voice was smooth and almost velvety…it made your head a little light and dizzy. ‘Are you feeling alright mortal? Can’t have you passing out on me?’ He told you in a hearty chuckling tone. He was suspicious. He must’ve done something to you. Your vision was a little clouded and your head felt heavy. ‘What have you done to me?’ You asked him placing one hand on your head. Massaging it a little. Your eyes focused on the suspicious man. The man Hmph-ed and scoffed. Closing his eyes, seemingly hurt and offended that he was accused of something like that.
‘I didn’t do anything, you idiot. Who do you take me for? That’s no way to talk your god!’ he said to you, crossing his arms and keeping his head high. How arrogant! And why is he claiming to be a god? That’s disrespectful! Claiming to be a god is highly disrespectful and insulting to your religion. ‘You can’t just claim you’re a god mister. It’s disrespectful.’ You told him carefully which made him scoff at you. ‘I’m no pretender! Seriously who do you take me for! It’s me! Apollo! Your lord! Your sweet, charming, loving, amazing sun god!’ Apollo told you proud fully, his strawberry pink like hair glistening in the waters. But he couldn’t help but chuckle when he looked at your flabbergasted face. His arms reached out to your body and he pulled you in the water with him. His hands on your broad shoulders while he looked you deep into your eyes, his face held a confident smirk and his hands soon began to make its way to your face, cupping it slightly. ‘Keep your god company, won’t you?’ Apollo asked you softly whispering in your ear. The sudden action once again made your head spin.
There was no denying that Apollo was attractive and charming….and seductive. But it was still highly Inappropriate to have something with the god you worship. Would you be allowed to go into the temple again? What if you end up like most of his lovers who have met unfortunate fates? Dying isn’t something you wanted…even if being with your god seemed like a dream. Would it really be a good choice to accept? Is that really what you want? So many questions yet so little answers. It made you dizzy and uncomfortable which cause you to take a fews steps back which made the god stunned. ‘I don’t know if that’s what i want...’ You told him slowly and carefully. You didn’t want to make quick and reckless decisions.. there was too much at stake. ‘I decline. I’m sorry my lord’ You told him carefully but firmly. Even if you loved your god, it was still platonic and admiration. Not romantic love like he hoped.
To not make the situation worse you walked out of the waters, apologized for the arrow and took your leave. Leaving Apollo, even if it was still hard to process in your state of disbelief that it was really him, alone in the waters who was confused himself. Apollo was never rejected by anyone, causing hik to have a stir of mixed emotions. He was hurt that you didn’t feel for him. Yet also angry you had the audacity to reject him. Yet also admiration that you wanted to put yourself first. He himself felt strange, but he was a powerful and confidant being. And rejected won’t a final answer. After all. In Apollo’s myths he never took no for an answer either…
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🌻Thank you for reading! 🌻
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Sonny Carisi: Camera  
Warning: NSFW themes- nothing super descriptive.
 
Sonny had promised his mother that he would print the pictures from his niece's third birthday. His caseload had been heavy, and he was already three months late delivering the pictures. He had led his mom to believe that he had already gone through edited and printed the pictures in question. The truth was that he hadn’t even looked at his camera yet.  
All he wanted was to cook you a real homemade meal like he had been promising for far too long. Instead, you were in the kitchen making soup and he was pulling down his camera flipping through his pictures. A hobby that he usually took great joy in but today was feeling more like torture.  
He was flipping through the pictures walking over and turning on his personal laptop. He smiled fondly flashes of a little blonde girl in a pink dress with multicolored tutu. Her running around, blowing bubbles, blowing out her birthday candles, and pink frosting smeared all over her face as she ate birthday cake. 
He was only half paying attention clicking through and reaching for the cord to connect it to the computer. Then he saw a flash of burgundy lace. His eyes flash back to the screen. He stares at it for a minute as his brain comprehends what is on the screen. He brings the camera up closer to inspect the picture. He slowly went through the pictures. None had your face but there was plenty of skin on display. The lace that covered your chest was thin enough to see your skin and harden your nipples underneath. The panties were just as sheer and had straps wrapping around your thighs and stomach. In one picture with your legs spread wide thumb teasing the hem he could clearly see how wet the lace was. Some of the pictures were blurry, had an awkward angle, or both but they were all hot and had Sonny stirring in his pants.  
You hear footsteps coming into the kitchen. You had the soup on the stove simmering. A thick hearty loaded potato with extra bacon to combat the bone-chilling New York cold. “Almost done,” You turn around to see Sonny at the edge of the kitchen. You are all smiles until you see the camera in his hand. 
A memory hits you. You had been waiting for Sonny to get home for date night. You had gone all out shaving your legs, curling your hair, and putting on a new set. All for him to cancel on you. A new lead had popped up that needed to be checked into. You had understood and weren’t mad. You did pout and drink a bottle of wine to yourself. You had spotted the camera halfway through the bottle. It had been an impulse to take the pictures. Your drunk self had wanted Sonny to know what he had missed. You vaguely remember setting the camera back and stripping down and into one of his shirts to sleep in. You hadn’t thought of it since.  
Judging by the look on Sonny’s face he had found them.  
You weren’t sure what to say. You weren’t sure what he would think. Sonny often had a different perspective than most men concerned with things like this because of his years as a detective in sex crimes. “Shit, Sonny...About those pictures- I totally forgot-” 
“Can I take some?” He asked abruptly and you paused a little stunned at his response. Then you noticed the bulge in his pants showing how much he enjoyed what he saw. “I want to take some pictures like these- of you,” He continued then seemingly realizing how it sounded added, “Only if you're okay with it, of course. I don’t want you to feel obligated or uncomfortable or-” 
“Okay,” You agree easily. You knew you had nothing to worry about. Sonny would never show anybody pictures of you. And honestly, the thought turned you on. You squeezed your thighs together at the thought of Sonny being completely enraptured in you and your body. “One condition,” 
His eyes shined with excitement and lust. He was eager. “Name it.” 
“They get locked up in your gun safe.” 
“Done.” 
He reaches out tugging at your wrist to lead you to the bedroom. You laugh a bit in disbelief. “Now?” You look back at the soup on the stove, “Aren’t you hungry?” 
“Famished,” His tone and the way he looked over you made heat pool in your lower stomach, your core clenching. You reach back turning the stove down to its lowest setting before letting Sonny lead you to the bedroom. “I didn’t recognize the set you were wearing. Will you put it back on for me Doll? You’ve given me so many ideas.” 
I considered continuing this (and still might) but this seemed like a smooth stopping point. Love you guys xoxo 
Taglist:
@polkadotpenguin16 
@pulparindos 
@rebeccapineapple 
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sylverstorms · 9 months
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Demon Slayer Women ~How they Fall in Love~
Characters: Mitsuri Kanroji | Shinobu Kocho | Daki/Ume | Lady Tamayo.   
Warnings: None, SFW.
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Mitsuri Kanroji - Love At First Sight
It all began the fateful day Mitsuri's lively presence collided with yours. Quite literally collided, because the girl was dashing through the Ubuyashiki Estate, late to the Hashiras meeting, only to smack into a crash that was entirely her fault. To her credit, she had the split-second reaction time to grasp your biceps with her hands, pull you closer before you fell sideways and hit the wall. You still ended up in a tangle of limbs on the ground, though.     
Flustered at her own carelessness, she immediately looked up to apologize, “Oh, gosh, I’m so s–” but her breath caught in her throat halfway through the sentence. 
Her green eyes flew open wide, the blush on her cheeks only deepening. Your beauty radiated like the first light of dawn. She completely missed the first thing you said –that it was all good, or something– because, that sweet smile you gave her? It could melt the iciest of hearts. It certainly did a number on hers.
Without thinking, she reached up to brush the lock of hair that had fallen over your right eye. “I’m… really sorry.” came out in a breathy whisper. “Let me make it up to you?”
Ice-cream after the Hashiras’ meeting, her treat, Mitsuri insisted. 
Little did you know, half the things said in that room flew right over her head, with how occupied it was with thoughts of you. 
—----------------------------------------
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Shinobu Kocho - Admiration To Love
It was often that the demon slayers praised and idolized their most elite warriors, the Hashiras. Not as often that one of the Hashiras came to greatly admire someone from the lower ranks. 
Kinoto or not, you made a lasting impression on Shinobu. Your drive to protect humans that seemed to render you immune to the pain of your injuries, that laser-focused look in your eye as you stared a Lower Moon down and trusted her to deliver the killing blow in time, before the monster decapitated you first. When the battle was over and adrenaline started to die down, your wounds caught up with you. You collapsed forward, but she was there to catch you, gently lowering you to the ground.
“You could have retreated as soon as I arrived.” she stated, staring deep into your eyes, perplexed. 
“Hey, I’m fine. S’all good.” you drawled, dizzy from the blood loss. “Please, don’t be angry. We won. Won’t you give me a smile?”
“I am.” she answered. 
“A real one?” 
Right then and there, you stunned her. Shocked her. You, who met her that night for the very first time, saw through her carefully constructed mask that fooled even her closest associates. But for that one moment, gazing upon your relaxed face, she almost forgot her constant, burning anger. 
And she smiled down at you for real. 
—------------------------------------ 
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Daki/Ume - Rivals to Lovers  
In the shadowed realm of demons under Lord Muzan, Daki reigned with a cruel elegance for decades. Not as the most powerful, but surely the most beautiful. Until. Until you came along.
You and your accursed, gorgeous face and your deep, magnetizing eyes. How dare you show up just like that -out of nowhere!- and flash her that thousand-gigawatt smile. How dare you wink at her and so casually, so confidently say: 
“Hello~ It’ll be a pleasure working with you, prettygirl.” 
Instantly, she knew that she hated you. She was quick to show it, too. Daki's first interactions with you were filled with disdain and antagonism. And yet neither of you could deny the spark that those homing, sharp-witted comments ignited within you. 
In equal parts, you infuriated and exhilarated her. She masked her true feelings beneath layers of scorn, unwilling to admit the vulnerability that lay beneath her pride. Until the evening you walked up to her, pushed a jewelry box into her hands and told her to take it and like it. Within lay a priceless necklace you knew had caught her eye years ago.
“Happy Demon Birthday, sexy.” 
She tried. She really did try to bite the fuck out of her growing smile down. In the end, though, it still managed to overpower her. And that kind of marked the point of no return. 
—----------------------------------- 
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Lady Tamayo - Slow Burn Love
In a world where demons and humans clashed ceaselessly, Tamayo stood as an anomaly. A cursed existence with a gentle soul, a demon devoted to helping humans in pursuit of atonement. It was by chance she came across you, the injured slayer in dire need of medical help.
Tamayo took you in, cared for your wounds and remained by your side for nights on end. Even unconscious, you seemed agitated at her presence at first, as if you could sense what she was. Gradually, however, you stopped flinching at the touch of her hand on your forehead. Eventually, you leaned into it. 
She couldn't explain why the serene smile you gave in your sleep tugged at her heartstrings so powerfully. Then a twisting worry began to take root inside her, that the moment you woke up your liking to her would disappear, replaced by malice. 
When you opened your eyes, she drew a meter back from you. 
“You. You're the one who saved my life…?” you spoke in a voice hoarse from unuse. “I should thank you for that.”
“No need. It's clear you recognize what I am.” was her reply. Your eyes met. Ancient lavender orbs held your gaze kindly, awaiting your judgment with the patience of a saint. 
A demon, you thought to accuse. The words were perched right on the tip of your tongue. Yet the more you stared at her, the harder they got to voice. Thus…
“A doctor?” you offered, instead. 
The soft, slow smile she gave in response could light up the whole town. 
-
A/N: Tysm for reading and if you’re interested in ASMR-type stories written and voiced by me featuring Demon Slayer women and other anime hotties: My YouTube <3
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local-crying-boy · 6 months
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Alice Cullen x Jasper Hale X GN!Reader
If you were their second mate - meeting them (human reader)
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Well, we all know about these two stunning vampires and their literal perfect relationship with one another.
But what if there was another?
You. Obviously.
Alice saw you coming at first, the whole ideal of having a second mate was confusing to everyone. It was unheard of and, yet, it happened.
Some of the Cullens questioned it, but Alice and Jasper were just happy they could share their love to another person.
Granted, Jasper was worried about having a human mate. He was afraid that he’d hurt you, of course.
When you first came to Forks, when he first saw you at school, it took literally every fibre in his body, every humane ideal and moral he still had to not pounce at your neck.
Alice was able to see it just in time, and Edward and Emmett were able to get him out of school just in time.
Safe to say, you had heard of the two, but it took just over two weeks before you were even able to see them.
You’d heard of them because, well, who hadn’t heard of every single one of the Cullens?
You heard of how some (all) of the students at Forks viewed the Cullens, they were all stunning, but no one ever really knew them.
You were intrigued, obviously.
You’d heard of Alice and Jasper, but you’d never see them at school until almost a month. How odd.
You’d first met Alice, she was in one of your classes - English.
You’d been seated in the empty chair next to hers when she was absent at school, much to your dismay because you didn’t have anyone to sit with and you couldn’t catch up quick enough.
Thankfully, however, when Alice finally was present at school, she offered to lend you some of her notes so you could catch up on the school’s specific curriculum.
It had sparked up conversation, that’s for sure.
Even if it was only about the work, she was enjoying every second of it and couldn’t wait until the time you had a real conversation - outside of the topic of schoolwork.
Which was why, when you forgot to bring her detailed notes (and I mean detailed) to school one day, she jumped at the chance to talk to you again.
You’d apologised over and over, feeling so incredibly guilty over fact that you forgot her notes at home. And she remained unbothered because she never really needed those notes, though you didn't know that
And Alice being the good conversationalist she is, she was able to drag out conversations and turn them into where she got to learn more about you.
Quick and easy friends, you two became close in no time! (Which was exactly what she saw)
Meeting Jasper was much more harder.
You were in one of his classes, but he was no where near you. In fact, you’d been on the other side of the classroom.
It was both a blessing and a curse.
He was thankful that he didn’t have to risk being near you since he was already struggling with him, but he knew about all the fun times you and Alice were having and he was missing out!
Of course, it took a little longer for you to even realise he was in your class. He wasn't in for your first two weeks of school.
It not like you didn't realise he wasn't in your class, it was that the name didn't register in your name when the teacher would do the register at the beginning of every class.
You'd heard the name 'Jasper' and, therefore, the lack of the response. So, naturally, you didn't pay any attention to it. He wasn't in, you didn't know him and he was on the other side of the classroom.
However, when you did end up meeting Jasper, it was only because you needed to talk to Alice.
You didn't know many other people in your class, well, there wasn't many people that you enjoyed the company of - especially in comparison to Alice's.
You didn't enjoy the amount of attention that was brought to you being the new student in Forks, and you didn't like most of the people in the school, only because they were only interested in befriending you because all the students in Forks clearly grew up with each other.
Regardless, you needed help on an English assignment that you didn't understand and you saw that Alice understood (since you saw she was able to half complete it after a few days of it being set)
So, naturally, you went over and asked for help. The assignment was too confusing to wrap your head around, and you'd only been in that class for a little while and it was definitely not long enough to understand your teacher's rambles.
Alice was happy to help, obviously (who could have seen that happening her definitely)
Because she was standing beside Jasper when you came over, she invited you over to her house so that three of you could work on the homework you were given.
You had anxiously agreed, without a doubt overthinking how to act when at their house because you hadn't been over to someone else's house in years. What if there was some unspoken rule that you didn't know about?
Of course, going over their house was no problem at all!
What did you have to worry about? A room full of vampires? Haha, don't be absurd!
Anyway, the three of you head up to a room and got on with your school work.
Alice helped you with your English homework and sometimes played stupid so that Jasper could get involved as well, since - of course - you were his second mate as well.
It was safe to say that after that day, the three of you got pretty close. You started to walk to History with Jasper, while also walking to English with Alice.
Although Jasper's 'twin' sister didn't like you very much, for no reason that you knew of, you got on pretty well with the rest of Alice's and Jasper's foster family (aside from Edward, who would be in his extra emo phase without having Bella to meet)
Masterlist
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sonofthesaiyans · 6 months
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So, I took the time to watch the Attack on Titan finale today.....
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I don't know why, because everyone keeps saying that the anime ending was a huge step up from the manga's ending. Jeez, has it really been three years since that dropped the ball?
So I decided I needed to see for myself what it really changed, I had the time so I forced myself through it, to see what exactly the big deal all was; mostly what was different, and what it did that was so far removed from the comic.
Well I gotta admit, I was surprised by what I saw.
The animation was really impressive, much better than what I've seen of MAPPA's handiwork from the rest of this season. The whole thing just kept going bigger and bigger, and it just never seemed to slow down. It's definitely one of the most impressive battles of the series, especially when so much focus on fighting and ending the Titans seemed to be lost after so long. Plus I forgot how stunning MAPPA's backgrounds can be, almost like WIT's. I guess that's what you call "peak" in the anime circle now, huh?
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Levi......What can I say, he's an absolute badass, and the battle was worth it just to see him plow through Eren's army of Titans in all of his glory. Nothing can slow this guy down, and he definitely earned his ending. Sure he lost everyone who was near and dear to him but at least he can finally get some measure of peace. A much better finish than what the manga gave us, in its own weird way.
Was surprisingly touching to see the fallen Scouts again btw. Should have had Marco somewhere for Jean's sake, but maybe they can finally move on to a better place, wherever that may be.
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Well the Armin and Eren scene pulled no punches, did it? XD Bad puns aside, I was surprised at how emotionally charged that scene was, Eren seemed really sorry for everything. At least he finally owned up to it in the end. Such a shame he was left with so little choice in the end.
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And really, I realized how hard I was on Mikasa. She knew the life she thought she and Eren could have was beyond all hope, and in the end she made the right choice, agonizing as it was. In the end Mikasa really was too good for Eren, theirs is a love that was tragically cut short by circumstance. He couldn't help it, she couldn't help it.......Eremika truly is an unsung Shakespearean tragedy.
Oh don't you worry Eren, I'm sure she was thinking of you well beyond ten years. Who could fault her? We all know you meant well....
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So........now everyone's saying it took two thousand years if not more for this to happen, huh? Well I guess that sort of makes up for it.....At least nobody we knew and loved lived to see it, right? I guess we can stop blaming Eren for whatever brought this upon Paradis, right?
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Well, whatever the case may be, after finally seeing it I can say the anime ending makes up for a lot of what the manga left hanging. Great animation, such raw emotions, the insane music.......It was a long slog, but I'm glad I was proven wrong about everything I have said since the manga ending came out. This really helped to tie everything together much better, made the loss of such a wondrous cast a little easier to swallow. In the end, they gave their hearts, and in the end, it's much better to feeling something than to feel nothing.
So kudos to Studio MAPPA, and kudos to Hajime Isayama, truly I underestimated you. I feel like seeing this animated opened my eyes to so much of what I thought was missing. Suddenly things are so much clearer. Now.......Now I understand.......Eren only did what had to be done. Well played Mr. Isayama, well played.
And with that, I just want to leave with a quick shoutout to the true GOAT of Attack on Titan..........
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.......
................
..................................
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AS IF, YOU BITCH.
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And that's the LEAST of what you deserve, you cunt rag.
That title belongs to THIS girl, right here.
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As if there were any force between heaven and earth in this world or the next that could EVER make me forget.....
Oh, one more thing........
....... .................. ................................
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April Fools, Folks.
This story ended with the Ocean.
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You & I (3/3)
Book: Open Heart, beyond Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende-Ramsey) Word count: 1.7K Rating/ Warning: Teen/ Language
Series: You & I | Part 1 | Part 2
Premise: Her husband’s colleague seems a bit too interested in him. Things take a turn for the worse when she finds her in his hotel room during a work trip.
Note: Thank you so much to everyone who read and supported Part 1 & 2! This is based on a really old anon who asked: “has anyone every come between Ethan and Lilac?”
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The two women looked at one another in stunned silence. The seconds stretched into eternities until Heather recovered first, schooling her pretty face into an unreadable mask.
“Dr. Allende.”
“Dr. Allende-Ramsey.”
The correction went ignored.
“I didn't realize you had been invited to the conference,” Heather said in a casual voice, as though she wasn't standing in a married man's hotel room semi-naked. “I thought only the most senior physicians at any given hospital got to attend.”
Lilac, for her part, barely caught the jabbing words with the deafening pitch ringing in her ears. Pulse pounding against her ribcage at an alarming speed, she urged her senses to focus.
“What are you doing in my husband's room?”
Her voice was surprisingly cool and collected.
“The hotel mixed up our reservations. They accidentally put us in the same room.”
Lilac almost laughed in her face at the feeble excuse.
“Bullshit,” she returned.
“It happens more often than you’d think. You would know.”
Heather's eyes sunk into Lilac's, sharp with implied meaning. With an icy twist of her stomach, she caught on. Somehow, Heather was referencing Miami and the mishap that had forced her, Lilac, to share a room with Ethan.
Lilac's legs were shaking at this point, but she held herself with dignity. “You can drop the act. The hotel got a request to accommodate an extra person. That was you, wasn't it?”
The blonde's face remained unreadable.
“What are you suggesting, Dr. Allende? That I willingly wanted to room with a married man?”
“Yes.”
From her peripheral vision, she saw someone approaching them. It wasn't until the figure was a few feet away that Lilac recognized it as her sister.
“I forgot to pack perfume! You think you could—” Laurel stopped dead, eyes falling on Heather. Surprise melted into confusion which finally gave way to anger. “What the fuck?”
Lilac ignored this, eyes boring into Heather.
“Tell me, did you pretend to be me when you changed the reservation? His wife? Because that must've been humiliating.”
“You have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Really? You think I don't see the way you look at my husband? And all your petty little jabs at me? Which I'm not even upset over, by the way. You can hate me and insult me all you want, but the minute you disrespect my husband's privacy like this, then we have a problem.”
“You're being a paranoid b—”
“Finish the sentence,” Laurel challenged, filling the space between Lilac and Heather. “I fucking dare you.”
Heather's composed features flickered slightly when she stared down at the feisty brunette. Anyone with working brain cells would see that Laurel meant business when it came to defending her sister. And Heather, it appeared, was a smart woman. She backed a few steps, pressing her mouth shut despite looking as though she wanted to say more.
Lilac, meanwhile, remained stoic and composed behind her sister. Her eyes sunk into Heather, as though she was a puzzle that had been too easy to decipher up until the last, missing piece.
“What were you hoping for, exactly? An affair?” she asked, her voice cool and level.
Heather's eyes moved from Laurel back up at Lilac. Instantly, her pretty features lit up with amusement. And Lilac could see the exact moment all pretense crumbled.
“That's not uncommon for a man like Ethan.” The blonde replied with surprising confidence. “Powerful men like him have many affairs and no one bats an eye. I wouldn't be the first nor the last. You're naïve if you think otherwise.”
Laurel scoffed, outraged. She advanced, ready to pounce but Lilac stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.
“I'm sorry you don't trust anyone in your life unconditionally,” Lilac started, “but my husband would never be unfaithful.”
The blonde laughed derisively but Lilac ignored her.
“And I think you know that, too. Otherwise, you wouldn't have snuck into his bedroom.”
“Pathetic,” Laurel spat.
Heather spluttered, aware that the sisters were right. For the first time since she opened the door, she looked embarrassed. The sheer humiliation of this fact made her angrier.
“It's just sex!” she shrieked. “You two act like I wanted him divorced and remarried by next week.”
“Listen to yourself,” Lilac returned quietly. “Do you have any self respect?”
“Ha! Don't talk to me about self respect when everyone knows how you snatched him up. Sleeping with your boss? That's not any better.”
This time, Laurel closed the small gap and went straight for Heather's damp hair. Both women screeched, one in rage and the other in surprise. Lilac, for her part, pulled her sister back, doing a commendable job of restraining her.
“Laurel, no!”
“You're lucky I don't press charges!” Heather bellowed, disheveled and on the verge of tears.
Laurel opened her mouth to reply but another voice intervened.
“Lilac?”
It was the deep, rich voice of her husband, strained with surprise. His blue eyes moved over the scene, expression tensing with increasing shock as he took it all in. Finally, his gaze fell on a sobbing Heather and then immediately darted to Lilac.
The shocked, tense silence was only broken as another figure joined the fray. A breathless Tobias came to a stop beside Ethan, looking equally as surprised by the chaos before him.
“Baby?” Tobias said, spotting Laurel. “What's going on here?”
“This little homewrecker here snuck into Ethan's hotel room hoping he'd fuck her.” Laurel replied, no longer fighting against her sister's restraints.
Ethan flinched at the last few words. The shock on his handsome face had diminished to its usual neutrality, but Lilac could see the gears of his mind working. It was as though he was trying to solve a complicated case without having all the facts yet. Once again, his piercing blue eyes rested on Lilac, as though asking her for an explanation.
“Heather, what the fuck?” Tobias asked, shell-shocked.
The blonde's response was more uncontrollable sobbing. As both men surpassed the initial shock and regained their senses, the hallway erupted with noise.
So much noise.
Questions, accusations, and more sobbing— all of it echoed in Lilac's ears, drilling into her skull, pinching every last nerve. Someone said her name but it sounded distant. Someone else threw a jacket over Heather’s shoulders. Laurel cried out in indignation.
It was all too much. Lilac’s head throbbed, threatening to explode…
And then her feet were carrying her away.
“Lilac!”
Several voices called her name but she didn't stop until a gust of fresh air hit her face like a welcomed caress. The blare of New York City echoed from somewhere below the canopy of the purple sky. Despite the faint bustle, she found an odd sense of peace in the abandoned hotel rooftop. Her eyes roamed over the spectacular skyline, taking in the glistening lights that appeared as the last rays of the sun sank behind the horizon. Peace settled over her, easing her body from the stress of the day’s events.
She wasn't sure how long she stood there.
The creaking of the door behind her, followed by a set of footsteps, broke her out of her lull. Seconds later, someone settled next to her. She didn't have to look up to know who it was.
“I had a feeling you'd be up here,” Ethan commented softly.
She didn’t reply. The soft fabric of his jacket swept her skip and he draped it over her shoulders. His scent enveloped her, bringing more warmth to her body than any coat ever could.
“I just got off the phone with the HR department at Mass Kenmore. I explained what happened with Heather today. They'll be opening an investigation.”
Without tearing her eyes from the horizon, she nodded. The sun was fully gone by now, casting the city into an inky blue haze.
“I hope something comes of it,” Lilac said at last. “What she did today was unacceptable.”
More silence followed. As the night breeze picked up, she stole a sideways glance at her husband. He, too, watched the glittering skyline, his jaw tight. He looked almost serene, but she knew him better.
“I'm sorry about all of this, Lilac,” he said quietly, finally looking at her. He opened his mouth to say more but she shook her head.
“There's nothing for you to be sorry about.”
“I should've listened to you,” he pressed on. “You told me your hunch before I boarded and I ignored it.”
“Even if you did take my word for it, there was no way for you to know she'd do this.”
“I know that, love,” he assured her. “I should've still listened.”
Tentatively, he closed the miniscule distance separating them. Even more gently, his hands fell at her sides, his blue eyes carried hesitation, as though he was afraid she’d pull away. When Lilac’s hand moved up to sweep his cheek, he closed his eyes against her touch, relaxing with relief. They stood like that, basking in the peaceful silence for a few minutes.
“What happened to Heather?” she asked after a while.
“Hotel security escorted her to her room. She is to leave the premises tomorrow morning. It's lucky for her since it places distance between her and your sister.”
That made her smile, but only briefly. Ethan was watching her with a quiet, pensive look.
“Did you ever doubt me?”
“Never. Not for a second, Ethan.”
He nodded once.
“Good,” he said before bringing her hand to his lips. “There will never be anyone but you, Lilac.”
The words made her feel weightless. Unaware of the way her heart stammered for him, he leaned in and kissed her softly. It was a short and gentle kiss, a perfect summary of their sweet moment on that rooftop.
A biting breeze made her shiver. Wordlessly, Ethan readjusted his coat on her shoulders. Then, his arms pulled her close for good measure.
“Ready to go inside? The hotel manager was so embarrassed about changing the reservation for Heather that he upgraded us to a suite.”
“That sounds heavenly,” she sighed, finally realizing just how exhausted she truly was. “Can we also get dinner? Your baby wants food.”
An incandescent smile was her reward at the mention of their child. His hands moved from her sides to the barely visible bump of her stomach.
“I meant me,” she joked with a laugh.
Ethan rolled his eyes but chuckled softly.
“How does room service sound? I don’t know about you but I don’t want to be around people.”
“Even better. Just you and I.”
He lifted her hand to his lips again, pressing the softest of kisses there.
“As it should be.”
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Note: As I was getting ready to post this, YT Music decided to play:
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It could’ve been because I’m playing a Harry Styles radio station but I’m going to interpret it as serendipity!
In all seriousness, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart if you read three parts. Your support means the world to me! I really hope you liked this mini-series.
I will be back soon with more mini-series, YBF, and one-shots this summer! Love you all,
Bree 
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everydayfrimmel · 2 months
Text
July 19, 2024
"The L Word (Love and/or Leaking Roofs and/or Late-Night Television)" 1800 words, roommate au, part 13/?
Apparently, Himmel thinks a lot of things are romantic.
It’s the answer he gives when Frieren notices him staring out the window and smiling at the snow: I just think it’s romantic. And when she asks why he chose a certain song to play on repeat as he makes his dinner. And why he makes two portions of freezer-section salmon and tries to plate them nicely on a greens with a dollop of herb butter instead of offering her his usual instant noodles: sounded more romantic. It is his most common response these days when Frieren asks him why he did anything. 
And normally, she would find it naïve to romanticize everyday things so insistently, but he looks so happy doing it that even Frieren isn’t cold enough to begrudge him. 
And sometimes she likes the things he calls romantic a little, too. 
That night they go into the city, for one. And how, after sitting patiently through Frieren’s very logically sound analysis of why the movie they saw was unrealistic over pizza at a place with oil stains on the tablecloths and the best crust Frieren’s ever had, he bought a whole second pie for tomorrow. How he pulls over on a deserted country road on the way back home doesn’t say anything when she takes a slice from the box, still almost warm, to eat while lying on the roof of his car (it’s freezing, she barely minds). How he knows what all of the constellations are called and admits with the freest and most triumphant laugh she’s ever heard that he only learned because he’s been daydreaming about taking a girl stargazing since he saw it in a movie when he was fourteen. 
“What can I say,” he laughs, knocking his elbow gently into Frieren’s arm. “I’ve always been a romantic guy.” 
How he’s always putting his arms around her, and how he always asks. 
How much more warmth stays trapped under a blanket when he’s there, too. 
How excited he always looks when Frieren approaches him in the kitchen while he’s doing something else and bumps her forehead into his chest to indicate that he should redirect his hands’ attention to holding her instead. 
If she had to answer the question of whether or not Himmel’s feelings are mutual, she wouldn’t know quite what to say. But she knows that she likes those things, and that, although she forgot after she grew up enough for Flamme to start giving her a little more space, it feels good to be held. 
It’s warm, secure. It makes her feel as if Himmel really means the ridiculous things he says. Sometimes it makes warmth pool in her stomach in a way she can’t quite put a pin in. 
None of this meant anything to her back in high school or college, when everyone but Frieren seemed fixated on finding someone to love. And if it weren’t Himmel—if she didn’t already know who she was trusting so well, if she hadn’t seen all the cards he has to show—she might not care even now. But the last weeks of December melt into January, and January into February, and he takes to greeting her at breakfast with a quick kiss to her forehead, cupping her face to brush back her hair, and all of the data she’s compiled thus far is promising.
She doesn’t even dust off her beloved seasonal rant about how Valentine’s Day is nothing more than an excuse for the profit-hungry to exploit the passing infatuations of people who don’t know any better. It doesn’t seem as logical this year. 
(Maybe just because Himmel, who forgoes the typical human-sized teddy bear and eight dozen roses in favor of a case of instant noodles, a tiny Erlenmeyer flask of the fuchsia Frieren loves, and a stack of five of the strangest books he could find at the secondhand store, is one of those people who don’t know any better.
Or maybe just because the kitchen smells like fuchsia, and he swallows hard when she comes up for dinner with her hair twisted up off her neck and tells her he doesn’t understand how she’s missed that she’s stunning, and because this effectively kills any desire she ever might’ve had to be cynical.
He has that effect on people.) 
They have someone deliver them pasta, pretend it’s plated on china instead of in plastic, and Frieren calls Flamme that night even though she knows that Flamme will sus out the meaning of a call on Valentine’s Day in seconds and never let Frieren know a moment’s peace about it. 
“He gave me books,” she opens, just to get it out of the way, and to catch Flamme off-guard.
“Did he?”  
That’s it? Frieren is almost disappointed.
“And…and fuchsia,” she says. “In a little flask.”
“Aw.” 
“Why are you not being weirder about this? You’re usually weird about this.” 
“What, am I supposed to be surprised?” Flamme asks. “That Himmel was sweet on Valentine’s Day? You can’t expect me to be.” 
“But-“ 
“What I wanna know is what you gave him.” 
“N-nothing,” she stammers. 
“Oh, Frieren…” 
She feels her cheeks warm and looks down at the floor even with nobody’s eyes to avoid. “I…I couldn’t think of anything.”
Except that she could. And it’s in her desk now because she hadn’t been able to convince herself it wasn’t idiotic. 
“You’re definitely lying.” 
So that’s how you’re gonna be, huh.
“I didn’t-“ 
“Frieren,” Flamme asks gently, “did he not like it?”
“I…I couldn’t give it to him.” 
“Because it was…” 
“…Taiwanese cola gummies and contact lens fluid.” 
“Oh, Frieren, contact lens fluid?”
“I said it was dumb, okay?” Frieren hates how pinched her face feels, how close a lump might be to forming in her throat. “He just ran out of it, and-“ 
“It’s not a bad gift, sweet pea,” she says. “Not at all.” 
“But you just said-“ 
“It’s just so you, Frieren.” She laughs softly. “He’ll love it.” 
“But it’s-“ 
“Go hang up the phone and give it to him, okay?” 
“But I don’t-“ 
“That boy would walk off a cliff if you asked him to,” Flamme says. “And you think he’s not going to be out of his mind with excitement about your contact lens fluid?”
And she feels silly, like she’s playing a game she doesn’t know the rules to and breaking every single one, but Frieren halfheartedly packs the gift bag she bought when she was feeling braver with contact lens fluid and gummies and tissue paper and knocks on Himmel’s bedroom door. 
“I promise I’m not being cheap,” she says when he opens the door, holding the gift bag as far from her body as she can. “I just didn’t give it to you earlier because it’s a really dumb gift.” 
His whole face seems to lift, take on color, and his eyes widen a little, and his lips part, and every movement of his body is alert, and even for Frieren, it is impossible not to see it.
All he means by love is the joy of being acknowledged and cared-for by somebody he likes and admires and could never get to know well enough.
“Frieren,” he chokes, “you got me a gift?” 
She thrusts it into his hands, red-faced with embarrassment. “I already told you it’s a really dumb gift.”
He ignores this, tossing the wads of tissue paper she stuffed in only a few moments ago onto his bed, grabbing eagerly for the first thing inside (the gummies, good, he’s gone for the normal thing first). 
“You remembered?” he asks, as if nothing has ever made him happier in his life. 
“You weren’t exactly subtle about it.” 
The last time she ordered those, she only got to eat about four of them. It had been an obvious choice.
“Bro,” he says rapturously, falling back against his pillows with the gummies clutched to his chest. “I’m gonna eat this whole thing in, like, two hours.” 
Frieren frowns. “You’re going to make yourself sick.” 
“I don’t care, man, Frieren got me cola gummies.” He looks up at her, his face aglow—“Frieren got me cola gummies!”
Oh, how she hates that her whole entire body feels warm at that.
“Well,” she says, hoping to spare herself the embarrassment, “I’m glad you liked it, goodbye,” and then he reaches out to grab for her wrist and she stops. 
There is no aggression whatsoever in his face, only a naked adoration that makes Frieren feel like she’s shrunk to the size of an ant and crawled onto the deck of a microscope. 
“How did you know?”
He holds up the bottle of contact lens fluid, and Frieren can’t even bear to look at it. 
“I saw the empty bottle in the trash a few days ago,” she mumbles. “I couldn’t think of anything better.”
He doesn’t ask this time if he can pull her into his arms. She’s glad—she wouldn’t trust her voice to answer if it did.
And she wouldn’t want to refuse. Not when Himmel is, for once, forgetting to be delicate, allowing himself to hold on as tightly as he wants to, and when the pressure of his arms around her feels so wonderful.
“I don’t care if it’s too soon,” he murmurs, cradling her head to his shoulder (oh, it’s wonderful when he does that). “Or if it’s selfish, Frieren, I love you.”
She is not surprised. He expects surprise, but she has none to give. 
“The data trends that way.” 
“Data,” he laughs, pressing his lips to her hair. “Don’t ever change, Frieren. Don’t ever.” 
I could say the same to you, she wants to reply. But it’s a thought she’s never even considered, so she simply murmurs, “hm.”
“Not even a little.” 
“Mmkay,” she says.
Contact lens fluid, huh?
And she messages Flamme after he’s gone to bed, after she can hear him snoring down the hall—he loves me—like she has a secret, even though it’s not, and like it might be the most wonderful thing in the world, which it is. Her cheeks feel warm, not just from burrowing her head under the covers, and her hands shake a little, but not unpleasantly, and she thinks, so this is what it all means, and lies back against one of her pillows with the other hugged tightly to her chest, and smiles at nothing. 
Maybe all those people lining the pockets of the retail empires this time of year do know what they’re talking about. Just a little. 
Go to bed, Frieren, Flamme texts back. He’ll still be there in the morning. 
And she falls asleep with her phone face-down on her chest, smiling, because—yes. That is the wonderful thing about Himmel: that he will be.
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hopepaigeturner · 2 years
Text
An Offer From an Avid Reader: Anthony and Benophie pt.3
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Belatedly realised I still had part 3 of this in my draft and almost forgot about it  😂 😂
These scenes take place in the final episode sans, Sophie accepting Anthony's offer to be Francesca's ladies maid (allowing her to remain employed but distance from Benedict) and the Ep7 cliffhanger of Sophie being thrown into the jail.
*~*~*~*~*
Anthony is pacing outside of the modiste, checking his stopwatch. Suddenly a very haggard Benedict turns up, deep shadows under his eyes and distressed appearance.
“By gosh, Benedict, you look like death.” Anthony grabs Benedict’s face and inspects it, Benedict blurrily responds. “Have you slept at all these past two days?” Benedict shrugs.
“It is either nightmares or insomnia.”
Anthony tsks regretfully.
“You shall wear yourself to the bone like this.”
“I can sleep when I know she is safe.”
Anthony gives his brother an unimpressed look but wisely decides not to push teh matter further.
“And you are sure this is a profitable avenue for information?” Anthony notions to Genevieve’s green door.
“Genevieve is Sophie’s oldest friend. If Sophie needed sanctuary she would have come here.”
They both knock loudly and hear muffled noises. Genevieve wrenches the door open, still in a  dressing gown, and upon seeing both Bridgerton boys, (and due to their most recent unfavourable encounters with her), she glares and immediately goes to slam the door.
“Wait!” Anthony shouts, blocking the action.
She huffs with her most withering glare.
“I am tired of you Bridgertons hounding my door—leave me in peace.” With surprising strength, she jostles Anthony away.
“Araminta knows Sophie is in London!” Benedict cries.
Genevieve swings the door open, face aghast.
“What did you do?”
“My sisters let slip that Sophie was working for them and now Sophie has gone missing.” Benedict’s voice breaks. “I have spent the last two days scouring the streets, please Genevieve, please tell me she came to you.”
Her face is as gaunt as Benedict’s—the only two people who understand the true peril of the situation.
“No, no. I have not seen Sophie for weeks…oh god.”
Anthony steps forward.
“We need your help. Ofcourse we will reimburse—”
“Oh fie on you, your Lordship! As if I need money to rescue my friend. Wait a moment and I shall return.”
She does return, fully dressed, and accompanies the men to lead them to various old haunts of Sophie’s. As they walk Anthony is stunned to find out that both Benedict’s former lover and future wife are best friends.
Ginny waves off his judgements until she registers his words.
“Future wife?” She turns to Benedict, incredulous. “You wished to marry Sophie?”
“I still do. I asked her a fortnight prior, but she rejected me.”
Genevieve halts.
“You proposed?”
Benedict turns to her.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It is Sophie.” Benedict states as if that statement should be enough. Ginny continues blinking.
“I know, I love that girl and she is one of the finest women I know but…you proposed?”
Benedict throws his hands in the air.
“Why is everyone so surprised by the fact? It is Sophie. Sophie who is...she is just…”
The other two stare as the usually eloquent poet is rendered speechless trying to describe the love of his life.
“She is Sophie. She is my everything.”
“I keep forgetting to stop underestimating you, Benedict,” Genevieve replies, still a little stunned.
“I suppose the knowledge of Grandma Alexandra’s bequest encouraged your heart along,” Anthony comments.
“Her ring?” Benedict asks.
“And the sizeable income she left for you and any prospective family on your marriage day.”
“What income?”
“You truly did not know?” Anthony turns, Benedict shrugs, utterly perplexed. Anthony continues, “You would have faced the backlash of the ton, ridicule, whispers, and possible estrangement from the family…for her?” Anthony continues in disbelief.
“I would willingly take on any pain, any burden for her,” Benedict replies. A dawning realisation comes over Anthony.
“To honour her being with your words and deeds,” he finishes. The brothers share a poignant look.
“Indeed, and you will not sway my mind.”
Anthony sighs, the exasperated sigh of a bedraggled elder brother.
“Unfortunately, stubbornness is a family trait. Thank goodness Sophie has a good head on her shoulders—I was on the verge of despair for you.” Benedict smiles slightly before it falls away to worry. Anthony claps him on the shoulder. “Do not worry, brother, we will find her. Knowing Miss Beckett’s character, I think we all know she shall persevere through any circumstance.
*~*~*~
Then we get Sophie in prison sequence…
Honestly I want this to be the only time the ‘What is it to admire a woman’ is mentioned. I don’t want it to be overused in the series as a whole, and placing its return in a Benedict/Anthony context fits I feel.
That is the main part of the Anthony/Benophie interaction. Anthony does accompany Benedict and Violet to the prison to throw his weight around, as well as witness how in love Sophie is with Benedict. Then everyone returns to Bridgerton House.
(In my version of the bath scene is back at Bridgerton house, mainly because unlike the book, Benophie’s story/show will not just end there. It is an ensemble show so there needs to be final wrap up of other storylines etc. Therefore no overtly seggsy times. Don’t worry! instead we will get moments of cute Benophie ‘courting’ one another, a Benophie wedding and wedding night scene that hopefully will make up for it).
But before the bath scene, Sophie arrives back at Bridgerton house and is immediately wrenched out of Benedict’s hand by the enthusiasm of his sisters. (When this happens both Benedict and Sophie look utterly petrified, their terror of being separated once more fizzing through them).
Eventually Sophie is swept away, regardless of her protests, up the stairs for a bath. Anthony is left to stand next to Benedict…
“Well, that is all over now.”
“Yes…yes…” Anthony looks to find Benedict with lingering terror in his eyes, still staring after Sophie. Anthony puts an arm on his shoulder.
“Benedict, Sophie is safe.” Benedict nods mutely, but his entire being seems as delicate as cracked glass.
“Yes, I know…I know…”
“You will have a long and very happy life together.”
“Yes,” the tears threaten to erupt, Benedict looking as if he is on the verge of a breakdown, as his barriers brea down and he finally allow the emotions, pain and terror from the past days to be felt. “Yes, yes we will…”
Anthony looks at the empty doorway then sighs and turns to a maid.
“Will you be sure that Miss Beckett is put in the twin bathroom? She is to reside there for her stay and I believe she will appreciate a little solace and rest after her ordeal.”
“Yes, your lordship.”
Benedict looks at Anthony with furrowed brow.
“Is that not Francesca and Eloise’s old bathroom…the one they shared because it had two doors—" Benedict turns to his brother, eyes agog. Anthony does not meet his eye.
“You have a couple minutes before the staff make the connection and even less than that to sneak into that bathroom unseen—just please be discrete.”
“You are the best, brother.” Benedict cries. He embraces Anthony fiercely before running up the stairs. Anthony sighs and turns, walking towards his study.
“I need a stiff drink,” he mutters.
Anthony is allowed a little moments peace before the family descend. A little peace before someone asks the question.
“Where is Benedict?”
And ofcourse, Anthony has never been able to lie to his wife—or his mother for that matter. Alas that is for another post.
*~*~*~*~*
What do you think? I would love your quesitons/comments/thoughts.
Part 3/3. Part 1 here & Part 2 here
I’d love to hear your ideas/corrections/opinions and always open to chat or requests. Currently editing a rewrite of the 'garden scene' if anyone wants it.
Or check out the list here, for more of my ideas.
Or check out the general arcs of my prospective S4 here.
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aqueeracademic · 1 year
Text
morse being queer (and other commentary) pt 11:
season 3, episode 3, “Prey”:
- this episode is so insane
- i forgot it entirely tbh
- morse is so stunning in maroon 😭😭
- typically if your house is filling with smoke, you OPEN THE DOORS AND WINDOWS
- just letting thursday cough for no reason
- morse got so used to how he and jakes worked together he doesn’t know how to act anymore
- jakes used to let morse do most of the talking 🫤
- i have to respect every character ever flirting w morse because if i was an actor i would flirt w shaun evans at any given opportunity whether or not it was in the script
- i want whatever life these students are leading
- just smoking and drinking in the woods around a fire and skinny dipping
- minus the murder of course
- or i could get murdered
- that might be fine
- anyways!
- morse is so catty when he’s questioning people
- like he needs to take a deep breathe methinks
- trewlove supremacy we need to protect her at all costs 🥰🥰
- morse’s face after the scientist explains what he’s doing is so fucking funny
- i am 100% convinced that morse is in a shitty mood this episode because he misses having jakes around
- jakes and morse worked well together because they know where the other person is most valuable and useful and he doesn’t have that chemistry anywhere else
- once again, i HATE when men call women birds, but strange saying “the only birds he had any interest in were the feathered sort,” is SO DAMN FUNNY
- morse’s waist is SNATCHED ‼️
- morse also liked jakes because he never disturbed him
- he just let him be himself and that’s why morse loved him
- strange and morse r so weird together sometimes
- like strange literally taught morse how to be a good friend and yet the only person he’s incapable of being a good friend w is strange
- THE BABY???????? IS THE TIGER GONNA KILL THE BABY???????
- update the tiger did not kill the baby but the goat is MIA
- DEBRYN THANK GOD
- been needing him recently
- morse focusing on debryns eyes instead of the arm 🥰🥰
- ex-lovers quarrel in the laboratory ladies?
- like why is debryn so catty w that other doctor ?
- felt super personal
- mr craven is fine as FUCK i don’t care what anyone says
- he’s hot ‼️
- i’m gonna vouch for trewlove to wear pants and boots
- tights and skirt with little wing tips is not gonna cut it in the woods
- bright just wants a daughter i’m so sick 😭😭😭
- morse and thursday squaring the FUCK up to defend bright is something that can be so personal
- AYO MORTMAIGNE IS SO FINE
- ok let me stfu
- “perhaps you should fetch the officers some tea”
- HELLO?
- the way she’s having a complete breakdown over the death of a friend, entering a state of shock and sobbing, and he tells her to SERVE THEM??????????
- i hate men
- “have you come to pray?” “uh………. not today.”
- i know she’s probably right that brutus was just trying to play and didn’t mean to hurt her but girl 😐
- you got MAULED by a TIGER
- cant be blaming urself for all that
- thursday connecting with sam is so 😭😭😭😭😭😭
- he’s so proud of him
- and he doesn’t want him to do anything just for him
- i wish he was my dad
- oh i know for a fact trewlove lived for academic validation in school
- look at her little smile when bright complements her
- she’s just like me fr
- casual police brutality
- cant love it!
- a TIGER????????????????
- in OXFORD?
- the writers were bored when they came up w this one
- the plots where a woman is guilty are more interesting almost 100% of the time
- morse’s face when he sees the tiger
- he’s literally shitting bricks
- it’s not funny but yes it is
- this is why rich people shouldn’t be allowed to keep mazes on their property
- i’m not saying they are paralleling morse to a tiger but that’s exactly what i’m saying and i’m willing to do an entire analysis post of that!
- bright is the COLDEST motherfucker to ever do it
- how on EARTH did they get a tiger for this shit
- morse is such a victim
- props to him for acting brave in this scenario i would have had a stroke
- his face tho 😭😭
- “when it jumps you run!”
- savior complex! he has a savior complex! and i’m tired of you pretending he doesn’t!
- dear god he was so scared
- once again tho:
- BRIGHT IS THE HARDEST MOTHERFUCKER ON THE FORCE
- well that was stressful
- “carry on!”
- during the girl’s confession, bright and morse share a Moment™️ and it’s rly special to me
- also the doctor not being attracted to her because of her mauling is SO foul i hate men
- “if he understood me then maybe he could have loved me.”
- and then FOCUSING on morse during the episode he’s grappling with jakes leaving ????
- i’m gonna fucking vomit
- this episode was not gay but it was VERY camp so i fuck w it
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nangel · 2 months
Text
Paparazzi, part fifteen
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✍︎ word count | 3826 words
✈︎ missing out parts? | series , part 1 , part 2 , part 3 , part 4 , part 5 , part 6 , part 7 , part 8 , part 9 , part 10 , part 11 , part 12 , part 13 , part 14
ꨄ author’s note: Scenes and dialogue used from 365 days - Sorry that it’s a little longer now… You can skip most if it probably
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I fell in love…
We went to a nail salon because our nails were really done and grown out. While the nail artist did our nails we talked a lot. A girl date, just girls NO boys. I loved spending time with her because she was not only a best friend, she was a sister to me. “That looks so cute” she said looking at my nail art. “It’s giving girly-girl vibes” i said smirking and she nodded chuckling. “It does”
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Charles was picking me up at seven in front of a cafe where Maureen and I got some coffee. Maureen gave me a kiss on the cheek and hugged me before I got into the taxi.
Charles opened the champagne and we celebrated in his hotel room. “I hope your friends are not mad at me for taking you from them” i said smirking. “No, no, I hope your girls are not mad at me because I stole you away” he said winking at me. “Maybe a little bit…but they understand it” i said smiling. “Olga seems like she wants to kill me every time I come by” he said grimacing. “That is true” i said chuckling. I took a sip of the champagne before we started eating.
We ended up cuddling on the couch. “I’m gonna fall asleep with you again” i said softly while he had me in his arms cuddled up. “I’m love that…but I’m gonna get you something comfy before” he said getting up and walking to the bedroom. He came back with a hoodie snd some shorts which already looked too big for me. “There you go” he said and I smiled. “Thanks” i said. “You can change in the bedroom” he said smirking and I laughed walking into the bedroom to change into his clothes. They smelled like him, they smelled like his cologne and I loved it. I came back and cuddled myself up again with him.
I woke up by him stroking my hair, I opened my eyes and was looking into his. “Morning” i said softly and he smiled at me. “Good morning, angel” he said softly with his hand on mu cheek, his thumb brushing over it. I smiled snd closed my eyes. I loved his touch, no matter where he touched me it always left a burn in a good way but this…it was something else…I could feel something in my stomach. Almost as if I had butterflies in it. “You look so beautiful even after waking up” he said with his thumb still brushing over my cheek. “Thanks” i said with a soft laugh. “I’m glad all of the shit is done” i said softly knowing that he knew what I meant. “Me too” he said kissing my forehead. “Now I’m gonna steal you away” i said proudly and he laughed. “I’m all yours, Maddy” he said and I smiled. “I have good news for you” he said rubbing his eyes with a sigh. “Spit it out” i said looking into his eyes. “I was checking tiktok and you are all over it” he said and I propped myself up by my elbow. “No” i said stunned. “Yeah there are a lot of edits about you and videos people took and I saw Maureen too” he said and I gasped excited. “Wow…that’s awesome” i said proudly. “You have a lot of views” he said and I smiled. “Well this may sound arrogant or selfish but I like that” i said and he cupped my cheek again. “That’s good…I want you to be happy” he said looking into my eyes and our eyes locked in a really romantic way and like that we stared into each other’s eyes without saying anything. Something came up to my mind and I immediately gasped. “I’m sorry I totally forgot I’m meeting up with Olga today” i said softly and he nodded. “Sure, go” he said and I stood up. “I’m changing” i said walking into the bedroom to change back into my clothes.
The whole time in the taxi while driving to the hotel I couldn’t stop thinking about Charles, the things we did, his touch, his eyes and how they looked in my eyes and really important how I felt with him. The feeling I had in my stomach and in my heart. Was I really having a crush on him?
As soon as I reached Olga’s hotel room I knocked frustrated. From outside I could hear that she was on a heavy call cause she sweared and talked in polish. She opened the door and looked at me with the phone between her ear and shoulder. She probably saw my frustrated face. “Maddy, nie ma kurwa mowy…” (no fucking way) she said almost speechless. “I wasn’t talking to you, I’ll call you back” she said over the phone putting it away looking at me worried. “What happened?” she added with a stressed sigh. I didn’t answer and walked straight into her hotel room. I stumbled over tons of clothes which were all over the floor to the living room. I sat onto the couch, legs spread, arms crossed. She followed me and gathered the clothes which laid around. She was swearing in polish and gathered clothes from the couch I was sitting on. “I am going to kill you” she said pulling on a dress which I sat on. I lifted my hips and she pulled on it to get it. I looked up at her annoyed and gave her a bra which laid next to me. “I thought something happened to you…you look as if someone kidnapped you” she said stressed. “Just tell me one thing okay?” she said walking around which made me stress and nervous. “What the fuck happened?” she added looking at me. “Charles happened” i said stressed out and she sat down next to me on the couch. “Did he piss you off?” she asked looking at me. “I fell in love” i said casually looking at the floor-to-ceiling window in front of us. She leaned forward and looked at me. “What the fuck?” she said softly.
I was lying on the couch with both hands behind my head looking up at the ceiling with Olga kneeling on the floor, leaning onto the couch and her arm propped up on my stomach. She looked at me waiting and listened to what I said. “Jesus I know it sounds ridiculous. I didn’t want it, things just happened” i explained. She nodded understanding and started to chuckle in disbelief. “Fucking great she said shaking her head. She swallowed and looked at me before sticking her elbow into my stomach, shaking me around impatiently. “Don’t make me force it out of you. Tell me if it is about Charles!” she said impatiently making me gasp and sigh. “It is…” i said and she looked at me speechless still propped up with one arm on my stomach. I couldn’t really tell anything out of her expression she was smiling but she also looked as if she would kill me now. “Fuck” she said smiling while shaking her head. “Olga shut up!” i said and she held me down. “Tell me” she said impatiently and I sighed taking a deep breath.
She was sitting on the dining table in the hotel room because we settled over and she played with her gum, pulling on it and putting it back into her mouth while I was running around in the kitchen which was right over her. “It’s so unfair, I should’ve noticed it but I didn’t…I mean I had those feelings when he touched me but today was different. I had butterflies in my stomach and I know it sounds cheesy but I’m telling how it is”i said walking around and she looked at me. While I explained everything she was grabbing a cigarette out of the package bringing it to her lips before lighting it. “When I am with him I feel like the little girl inside me is coming alive again and he makes all dreams come true somehow it’s like he’s a man written by a woman” i said softly leaning on the kitchen counter with a heavy smile. I turned around and used my hands while talking looking at her while talking. “He’s a gentleman but still has that man side you know? That one all woman like…this dominant side but still he is like…I don’t know…giving princess treatment with flowers and opening the door and all that shit” i said crossing my arms. “And the worst is…he looks incredibly hot…” i said frustrated and she exhaled the smoke. “I know…I saw him already a lot times” she said raising her eyebrows before dropping them down again with a sigh. “Enough times if you ask me” she added looking at me. “He looks like a fucking god, he’s tall like really tall in my opinion…he has a perfect body and he’s charming and when he smiles…it’s as if he was sculpted by god himself” i said dropping my arms. She smirked at me. “And what about his dick?” she asked smirking. “Is he also sculpted by god?” she asked smirking. I walked over to her and sat down on her thigh with her looking at me amused. “We didn’t come that far…but it looks promising” i said looking at her with a smile and she took another puff and nodded with a smile exhaling it in another direction. “Fuck me” she said amused taking another puff with me smiling at her. “So…what else about him?” she asked smirking and I sighed. “I woke up next to him again tomorrow and it was different…he cupped my cheek and it was…it was not how it was with the guys before” i said and she nodded. “I can tell” “And what he does for a living you already know” i said and she nodded. “He’s a race driver for formula one…that’s a big thing…good for you actually, you got a good catch” she said and I moved my head from side to side. “He’s monegasque and comes from a really good and old-money family…they probably don’t take a foreigner for wives” i said softly and she tilted her head unimpressed. “Come on, Maddy, you are french…that’s connected to Monaco somehow it won’t be that heavy” she said shaking her head. “I’m German too” i reminded and she rolled her eyes. She put out the cigarette and laughed shaking her head. “Right, now spare me the bullshit” she said crossing her arms in front of me. She cleared her throat. “Now tell me the real shit” she commanded and I looked away.
I was sitting on the chair in front of her while she looked at me and scanned me. She had already brought us a bottle of wine and I was downing it to the half in frustration. I put the bottle down and she took it with a look that was fully reprehensible. She downed the rest that was inside.
I stood at her mirror looking at myself with one hand on my forehead. “Olga, I’m fucked up!” i said frustrated and she was frustrated by now too with one hand on her forehead, not even looking at me. “I met a famous person who was in a relationship then we met some times with him even coming to Paris for me” i said walking around in the kitchen again with her nodding, remembering it. “And the worst is I then I even fell in love with him after he ended his relationship with Alexandra for me…I mean how pathetic is this?” i said, my blood boiling inside me. She just shook her head before putting both of her hand on her face. “And it comes even better, I don’t know what to do because I am starting to get a lot of views…I am a model and people start to I don’t know see me as someone special and famous too and let’s not forget about the photos where I was already spotted with Charles with no one knowing that this is me!” i said growing something between frustrated and mad with her looking at me breathing stressed. “That’s why you need to fucking back out. Do you understand?” she said looking at me. “Fuck Charles Leclerc, his ex-girlfriend, the spotted pictures shit and all the other mozzarellas” she said finally. She sighed looking around with me sitting down on her couch again. “It’s time for a change…all of this is confusing me and it’s making me go insane” i said and I could feel her gaze on my back. “A change of undies” she said with me looking at her. “We’re going out” she commanded walking away. “What?” i asked confused. She was already dressed in a basic outfit while I was changing into clothes of her and refreshing my face in the bathroom. I could hear her doing something in the living room and soon I heard loud music in the whole apartment. “Co robisz?” (What are you doing?) i shouted from the bathroom. “Uwarunkowam moich sąsiadów” (I’m conditioning my neighbours) she shouted back laughing.
“I should tell him” i said as I opened the curtain of the changing room. Olga opened the curtain next to me. “Are you insane?” she asked. “Why? It would be smart” i said and she laughed. “Smart as hell…fuck smart…we never were smart” she said in her green dress. “But it’s definitely better than tour plan” i said and she came to me. “Would it be mature? Yes. Will it solve your problem? No” she said grimacing. “Actually it would” i said but she shut me down. “Shh…I know exactly what you need now” she said smiling. “We’re gonna call Maureen and Annabelle and then we’re going out” she said smirking and I nodded. “Might help” i said tilting my head. “Will help” she said before getting her phone. “Dress up we need dresses for tonight” she said and I did as she said. I couldn’t even escape a call of Charles. Of course I told him that my friends need me and he understood that which was pretty good for me.
We were all dressed up and standing in an elevator on our way into a sky-bar. “Wow that’s like that one bar in Warsaw” i said amused and Olga nodded. “Yeah” she said determined in her blue dress with sleeves. I was wearing a red dress with straps that were over my shoulder, Maureen was wearing a green dress which matched perfectly with her eyes, Annabelle was wearing a black short dress which was backless and had s neck-holder. We saw the long line and Olga groaned. “We’re gonna wait a lifetime” Annabelle said frustrated and I smirked. “I don’t think so” i said as I walked to the security guards which was one man and a woman. “Hey” i said walking up to them as if i knew them. “Madeleine” the woman said surprised. “Hey girl” i said walking up to her. “You look gorgeous” she said and I smiled. “You too” i said smiling. “Hey we just came from a shooting we need some driiinks” i said vibing and she laughed. “Yeah go in” she said pointing at the man who immediately opened the barrier which was a rope. “Thank you” i said hugging her which she returned. I waved at my girls snd they followed. Maureen hugged get too and I hugged the man too “Thank you” i said to him and he nodded. “Hey! Line up!” a girl said and I grimaced. “Line up yourself” i said taking Olga’s hand as we walked right into the club. “Wow…unstoppable entrance to clubs” Olga said stunned and I smirked walking into the bar where loud music was and already people dancing. “Some advantage must this lifestyle have” i said amused and Maureen and Annabelle laughed. “I love the new Madlen…who is knowing her place and worth and entering the star-life” Olga said already taking a glass champagne. “Look at all those beautiful people” she said looking around definitely in love and in a happy mood. “Let’s get some drinks” i said smiling and Olga immediately made her way to the bartender. Annabelle was hugging me snd I laughed. “You really are a catch” she said amused and I laughed. “Come on, let’s dance” Maureen said taking my hands to dance with me. Even the music was perfect and with that we started dancing. We were dancing a lot and even having some drinks.
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After all of the jumping, swinging and dancing I grew really thirsty. I pointed at Olga and she pointed at me with a nod. I walked to her and we walked together to the bar. “They never have enough” Olga said smirking as we looked over at Maureen and Annabelle who were dancing really interesting, as if they don’t want anyone near them. “That’s normal” she said and we stood at the bar with me playing with my brown hair which was curled on the ends. “Spritz?” she asked and I nodded. It became one of our favourites since it was sweet, refreshing but still getting you into intoxication. I ordered two of them and the bartender winked at me before preparing the glasses showing off hus skills at preparing the drink. It was with aperol which we adored, prosecco, soda and a slice of orange. He threw the bottle and put the orange on the rim of the glass before handing the glasses to us with a flirty smile. “Thanks” i said paying him before Olga and I clinked the glasses and took a big sip. “Mmmmh…still the best” she said, her hand over her heart. “Feels like back then” i said smirking, taking another sip. “She took another sip and the nudged me with her elbow nodding with her head to the other side of the bar. “Isn’t that Marc Guiu?” i asked squinting my eyes before opening them again confused. “It definitely is” she said smirking. “Probably visiting England” i said shrugging my shoulder. “A famous soccer player…would look good on you” she said smirking taking another sip with me punching her arm. “He said s not a dress you put on and after all I am in a…” i started but stopped then, realising something. “Say it…you’re in a situation-ship” she said and I took a sip of my drink. “I’m…” i started. “Say it…it’s the truth…you’re in a situation-ship…how did that happen…” she said before adding. “Your mother would kill you, you know your worth and let him put you into an emotional struggle…I would kill you too as an independent woman” with a raised eyebrow which made me down the drink. “I need another one” i said and she downed her too. “Me too” she said as she walked to the bar. I was looking over at Marc Guiu. I hated that Olga was right. I promised myself when I was a little younger that I would never let a situation-ship get to me. Now I was in the middle of one. I really asked myself who I had become… Technically I wasn’t together with Charles and the more I thought about it, the mosre I noticed how I despised myself and my character and my independent feminine side. I wanted to throw up and turned away with Olga handing me another one. “Thank you” i said and she nodded. “Mhm” she murmured as we took a sip in sync looking at Marc. “I heard that he has a girlfriend now” she said eating her orange slice. “Really? Good for him, relationships are shit” i said rolling my eyes. “Saw it on his private insta and tiktok but I’m not sure” she said shrugging her shoulders. “She would be here with him, right?” i asked her and she just tilted her head.
We finished our drinks as we leaned over to grab some orange slices out of the bowl. The bartender set another glass in front of Olga. “From the guy over there” he said to Olga and Olga nodded looking over at the guy with me doing it too. “Mmh” she murmured and I shook my head. “Nuh-uh” i murmured and she put the slice away, spitting the kernel into an empty glass “Nope?” she asked and I smirked. “No” i said drinking my last glass of aperol. She took a sip of her new one before turning to me with a smirk. I knew what would happen next and she leaned in to give me a quick kiss with our lips barely touching. I smirked at her and then at the guy. She walked over and he whispered something into her ear with her nodding with a laugh before he led her away. She gestured me to take her glass because she took hus with her. I just shook my head laughing, downing my drink. I looked over at Maureen and Annabelle who were still dancing. I sighed and looked a last time at Marc, he was in the club with his friends and I made my way over to him. I tapped his shoulder. “Hey” he said smirking down at me. “Hi, you’re the soccer player, right?” i asked amused. “Marc” he said holding his hand out. “I know, hello, Marc, it’s nice to meet you” i said shaking his hand. “You’re Madeleine Sinclair” he said amused and I nodded grimacing. He crossed his arms over his chest with me trying to get my phone out of my bag. “Can we take a picture? I’m collecting pictures with all celebrities I met” i said amused and he laughed. “Of course, you’re a celebrity yourself” he said and I smiled. “True” i said confidently. “Well actually I should ask you, you look adorable and you are a really good model” he said smirking and I thanked him. He handed my phone to hus friend who took photos of us. Marc wrapped an arm around my shoulder and I made a peace m-sign with my hand. “What are you doing here?” he asked me after I got my phone back , thanking him. “Visiting England and its clubs” i said confidently. “Bueno…we are going quite the same” he said smirking and I nodded. “I need to get back to my friends but thanks for the picture” i said and he held me back. “If you want you could bring them here…as a group partying is more fun” he said amused and I shrugged my shoulders. “I’ll ask them” i said walking away.
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geminiamethyst · 6 months
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Skyline Gang: Cravings?!
1shot stories list: click HERE
Pip had been acting strangely for the past ten minutes.
Candi had been watching her for almost half of that time. The day started out normally enough. Pip was her usual rock chick self; writing new music concepts for future shows, hanging out with guests that greeted her, and proposing ideas for shows to Dude. She even gave a quick guitar lesson to a young guest that was keen to learn. It was when it got to lunchtime that things started to change. Pip decided to eat a little earlier than usual. Her excuse being that planned to have burgers and didn’t want to be too full for dinner time. Five minutes later and so far Pip hadn’t eaten yet. Candi looked up from her book as she heard rummaging coming from the kitchen. Sprout was in the den with her, shuffling cards absentmindedly. Misty was upstairs, for once staying out of trouble. Dude was out of the house taking care of something in the Skyline, and Mimi and Bud were out too, doing some shopping in the town. Candi decided to check out the kitchen, Rainbow following her curiously.
All the cupboards and draws were open. The fridge was open and shut a few times, so was the freezer. Pop prowled around the kitchen, searching every nook and cranny that she could find. She even opened the oven and microwave in her frantic search. She apparently didn’t notice Candi and Rainbow standing there. With every place coming up empty, she looked more frantic. Candi watched for a few minutes and decided that some intervention was required. Sprout and Misty were probably not a suitable option. And Bud and Mimi were still out in town at the moment. Best wait for Dude to come back.
Her prayers were answered after a minute as Dude finally came back. He looked relieved from finishing whatever job he was doing and just wanted a breather. Unfortunately, he won’t get if for a few more minutes.
“Um…Dude?” Candi spoke up timidly.
“What’s up?” Dude asked, giving Candi a calm smile.
“I think that something is wrong with Pip.” She said uncertain, pointing towards the kitchen.
“What do you mean?” Dude asked again, this time looking concerned. Candi gently grabbed Dude’s hand and pulled him to the kitchen. Just like Candi had done, he observed Pip’s behaviour, with the rock chick still not noticing her audience. She just kept searching, now making something like a whining noise. Dude exchanged a glance with his fellow audience members, but only got a shrug from Candi and a confused whimper from Rainbow.
“Pip? Are you okay?” Dude finally asked, wanting to get to the bottom of this.
“Where are they?!” Pip shouted in desperation.
“Where’s who?” Dude chuckled, trying to calm the air with some humour. Pip wasn’t amused.
“Not who! What!” She growled, flashing her blue friend with wide, wild eyes. It was enough to stun Dude, making him take a step back. Rainbow and Candi took a subtle step back too, not sure how else to react. “Where are my burgers?!”
That’s what this was all about? Dude facepalmed from this. Honestly he didn’t know what to think right now. Pip was looking everywhere, but she somehow missed the most obvious place. Confidently, Dude treaded into the kitchen, skirting around Pip carefully. She watched him with starved eyes as he crossed over to the freezer. He opened it up, and started looking in the top drawer.
“Pip, calm down. I bought some yesterday. They’re right…” he sighed, still unsure of how much tunnel vision that Pip had right now. However, his words paused almost immediately. He checked that one area and moved aside a couple of frozen food packets. “I could’ve sworn that I put them here.”
“No, you didn’t!” Pip protested.
“Yes, I did.” Dude argued back calmly. He quickly turned to Pip and Candi. “Where’s Bud? He saw me put them in here.”
“He’s out with Mimi. They mentioned that you forgot some things so they went out to quickly get them.” Candi explained, putting her hand up a little as if she was answering a question a question during a class in school.
“Great. My only eye witness and he’s conveniently out of the house.” Dude facepalmed. Pip’s irritation rose to an almost dangerous degree. It was like being in the lion’s den right now. Dude turned back to the freezer, searching the same drawer. “Maybe they were just moved around.”
“What’s going on?” Sprout asked, finally appearing by Candi’s side.
“Sprout, have you seen the burgers that I bought yesterday?” Dude asked, staring to go through another drawer.
“You bought burgers?” Sprout asked dumbly. Dude shot him a look for a better answer. When Sprout saw that and Pip’s agitated behaviour, he was quick to spit out his words before he could think. “Haven’t see them. Haven’t been in the freezer since I had the last ice cream.”
“I knew that was you!” Misty suddenly shouted. Sprout and Candi both let out a scream as they noticed her behind them. They were more concerned about what was going on in front of the,, that they didn’t hear her coming downstairs. Misty stomped over to Sprout, getting right in his face. “And you blamed me for it!”
“Misty, did you see the burgers? They’re not where I put them yesterday.” Dude asked as Candi got between her brother and her opposite. The last thing that was needed right now was a fight between them.
“Why would I touch them? They’re gross!” Misty pulled a face. She was forced to eat her words, as Pip turned to her. That statement was the worst insult to burgers that the rock chick had ever heard. Her glare was so hard that her eyes turned to fire. She let out this animalistic growl, baring her teeth like a feral animal. It shocked Misty so much that she actually let out a literal squeak while hiding behind Candi. “Kidding! Kidding! What’s with you?!”
“Let’s just give Dude a hand in looking.” Candi smiled sheepishly, dragging Sprout and Misty with her. They reluctantly agreed, rather that than suffer any wrath that Pip might unleash on them. Dude pulled out the two remaining drawers from the freezer completely, and set them down on the kitchen island. Candi and Misty started searching them as Dude continued with his own drawer to keep looking in. Sprout meanwhile started looking in the fridge. After a minute, he closed the fridge, giving Dude a shake of his head. Dude looked back at Candi and Misty, but they came up empty in their search. Just what happened to those burgers?
“I’ll call Mimi and Bud, and see if they can get any more.” Dude sighed after returning the frozen products to their rightful place. Hopefully they’ll still be in the shops and not halfway back to the Skyline by now. If they are, then he’ll have to think of another plan.
“Gang? Where’s Pip?” Sprout whimpered rather suddenly.
“She’s…she was right behind me.” Candi said as Dude stood up completely. Everyone scanned the kitchen, but Pip was nowhere to be seen. She had pulled a complete vanishing act while everyone else was busy.
“Pip!” Rainbow barked from the doorway.
“Where is she, Rainbow?” Dude asked.
“Pip! Skyline!” Rainbow barked, heading to the front door. The four members of the Gang ran after him, finding the front door wide open, swinging a little from the force that was used on it. Once everyone got to the door, Pip was heading to the Skyline in a mad sprint. Her movements were unnatural, like a puppet on strings. Nonetheless, she made her way to the Skyline as if her life depended on it.
“Oh no…” was all that Dude could say before he too started running. He rushed after Pip as fast as his legs would allow him. Under normal circumstances, Pip heading to the Skyline wouldn’t be that much of an issue. However, she was currently in an unnatural state. Was she even a human at this point? Who goes that crazy over the lack of burgers? It was like an episode of SpongeBob SquarePants or something like that!
By time Dude reached the Skyline, Pip had locked her eyes on one specific place. The Burger King Restaurant!
“Pip! No!” Dude shouted on impulse. Before Pip could launch herself towards the restaurant, Dude wrapped his arms around her waist. He didn’t know what would happen if she reached her target, but he didn’t want to find out. Restraining her before any damage could be done was the best option right now. Pip did not take that well. Dude expected her to put up a fight, but she was worse than he thought. She kicked her legs up in the air, causing Dude to lift her up. He also felt her nails dig into the skin of his arms. He hissed out a wince from this. Those aren’t fingernails! They’re claws! He was convinced that a little bit of blood was probably drawn. Pip made this growling noise of hers. Dude hoped that he could catch her without getting too much attention. But this fight she put up was getting out of hand and drawing the attention of some of the guests.
“Dude? Are you and Pip playing a game?” A child wearing a Pip costume asked curiously. Dude looked around, sweating from the attention this gained. There was no way that he could explain this clearly. Especially if he didn’t know how to in the first place.
“Yes! We’re playing a game! Caught you, Pip!” He shouted desperately. Pip thrashed a little, but that’s was the last of her fight. She went limp in Dude’s arms, her chin hitting her chest in defeat. She panted heavily as all of her energy hit zero. Dude breathed a sigh of relief as he carefully put Pip back on her feet. She continued to slump over in a daze. The others have caught up now. Dude was quick to drop his voice low enough for the Gang to hear as he passed Pip to them. “Get her back to the house! Quickly!”
“Come on Pip! Dude won! Now he’s got to go find Mimi and Bud!” Sprout played along with the cover up. As Candi took Pip’s hand and started to take her back to the house, Misty and Rainbow followed to make sure that if Pip tried to run off again, she would be caught again. Sprout turned to Dude, his panicked voice coming out of his clenched teeth. “Be quick!”
Dude watched as his friends rapidly left the Skyline. Thankfully, Pip didn’t snap back into the predator like state. The last thing that was needed was another cover up for the damage control. That was when Dude realised that he was still being stared at. He let out a nervous laugh before running off to the staff only area. Just calm down and think of something fast. Pip was out of control and it could get much worse if she gets out of the house again. The scratches on his arms were proof of that, especially if a couple of them bled a little. If Pip started her rampage again, chances are that she’ll do worse than a couple of scratches. And all of this over a burger? She’s absolutely lost her mind. Better think of something quick!
Then it came to Dude. No other option now. Navigating behind the scenes, he reached a specific door and loudly knocked on it. It took a few seconds for an employee to open it, looking confused.
“Hi! Could you grab your manager for me please? It’s kind of urgent.” Dude begged in a rush. The employee blinked a little, but quickly did as requested. After a few more seconds, the manager came to the door. “Sorry to bother you.”
“Is everything okay?” The manger asked in confusion. This is the first time that she had seen Dude come this way and didn’t know how else to respond.
“Got a bit of a stupid request.” Dude grimaced a little bit. This plan had better work.
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Watching Pip was quite intense. The second she was brought back to the house, she tried to go for the kitchen again. Sprout and Rainbow were quick to block her path. The last thing that was needed was her tearing the kitchen apart again. Needless to say that Pip wasn’t that happy. She started growling all over again, looking like she was going to rip the jokester and the dog to pieces if they didn’t let her pass. They both ran from her in a few seconds. Pip only calmed down when Candi stepped in front of her. She just became placid so fast that it was like flicking a switch. Candi took full advantage of this and steered Pip into the den to calm down a bit more. Misty was quick to close one of the doors, just in case the rock chick attempted to reach the kitchen again. Pip sat still for a full minute before pacing around the room in a daze, drooling a little. Sprout and Rainbow rejoined the girls, just taking in this abnormality. They all stood guard in case Pip suddenly switched back and tried to get out. They even locked both the front and back doors to try to keep her locked in. So far, Pip hadn’t tried to charge out of the house, but if they weren’t careful, she could change.
When the front door was suddenly unlocked, all four of them jumped out of their skins. They were worried that Pip heard and would try to escape. Thankfully she was still locked in her zombie like state. Bud and Mimi appeared at the door, Mimi having her key out while she and Bud each carried a shopping bag.
“What is going on?” She asked, stunned to see the others in front of her. She and Bud expected the house to be empty since the door was locked. But seeing Candi, Misty, Sprout and Rainbow standing there was quite a surprise.
“Please, please, PLEASE tell me that you have the salvation we need!” Sprout begged, clasping his hands together desperately.
“What are you on about?” Bud asked as he and Mimi came into the house. They then noticed how Pip was acting as she groaned a little while walking in her trance like state. “What’s wrong with Pip?”
Where to even begin to explain?
Before anyone could start explaining, Dude came back. He visibly relaxed upon seeing Mimi and Bud before him. They couldn’t have come back at a better time. They probably came back with burgers, but considering how sudden everything happened and everything that happened after that, it might not be likely.
“Gracias a Dios…welcome back.” Dude sighed, walking up to the Gang. Bud keenly took a sniff as something hit his nostrils. It was something string and greasy. He looked down, noticing the paper bag that Dude was holding a paper bag.
“Dude, please explain.” He commanded, gesturing at the bag and then at Pip.
“Just wait in the kitchen. Hey Pip!” Dude ushered everyone away before catching Pip’s attention. Pip’s head snapped back at Dude as all but Sprout left for the kitchen.  Her eyes were wide and wild. She was poised to run again if Dude made a mistake. Dude only held up the paper bag, flashing the Burger King logo at her gingerly. “Look what I’ve got! AIE!” Pip was so fast that she nearly caught Dude’s hand. She snatched the paper bag right out of his hand, almost ripping it. She dug into it, salivating at the burger in her hands.
“Talk about biting the hand that feeds you.” Sprout whimpered as Pip ripped away the packaging around her prize. She took a big bite out of it, humming in delight. “And I thought spiders were scary.”
“Kitchen. Now.” Dude said through clenched teeth, gently pushing Sprout away. He close the door of the den as Pip sat down, cross legged like a child. She was munching on her meal, unaware of the door closing. All for the better right now.
———————————————————————————
“So let me get this straight: Pip wanted a burger for lunch, she couldn’t find any and went on a rampage.” Mimi concluded. The whole story was explained to her and Bud as the shopping was unloaded, with Dude and Rainbow standing by the doorway in case Pip came out of the den suddenly. There was no way to know if she would’ve calmed down after eating.
“I think rampage is somewhat putting it lightly.” Misty shrugged as she slammed a cupboard shut.
“This what I find peculiar.” Bud started to enquire. Everyone tuned in as he lifted up a box of burgers that he and Mimi had bought from their shopping trip. “Mimi said that we didn’t have any, but I saw Dude putting a new box in the freezer yesterday. So where is it?”
Everyone was left scratching their heads. Nobody could answer. That was when Rainbow started to play Sherlock Hound. He trotted over to Bud, quickly sniffing at the box. He wanted to know what he was looking for. Once he got the general idea, he set to work. He was quick sniff around the freezer and started looking. He worked around everyone as the food continued to be put away. By time that was done, he started barking.
“You find something Rainbow?” Candi asked as she skipped over to Rainbow. The dog grumbled, pawing a little at the bin. Candi stepped on the pedal, opening it up. She looked in and eagerly put her hand up. “Found it!”
Well, that answers Bud’s first question.
“Who threw them away?” Mimi exclaimed.
“I bet it was Sprout!” Misty accused, pointing at the boy in question.
“It wasn’t me!” Sprout protested furiously. “I didn’t even know they were supposed to be in the freezer until today! It was a CHILLING revelation!”
Puns aside, Sprout appeared to be telling the truth. Not to mention, he was with someone almost the entire time. It would be quite hard for him to throw the burgers away without being seen.
“Don’t look at me! I’m the one who found Pip in the first place!” Candi declared as a few eyes landed on her.
“I was out for a bit, and you two were out in town. Pip obviously wouldn’t have done this herself. Rainbow couldn’t do it because it’d be too hard for him. So that leaves…” Dude deducted, going through the list of suspects. His eyes landed on someone in particular. They had tried to sneak past him but he grabbed the strap of their dungarees before they had the chance. He dragged them back in with a disapproving look. “Misty…”
Misty was pulled until she was standing in the middle of the kitchen. Everyone stared right at her with accusing looks. She was put in the hot seat for this. No one would give her a chance to get away until she said her peace. Even Rainbow was giving her a hard stare.
“Okay, okay. It was me.” She relented, seeing no other way out of this.
“Why?” Candi pouted.
“Because Sprout framed me for having the last ice cream the other day! Thought that I could get back at him!” Misty confessed. All of this over some ice cream? Yes, it wasn’t that much of a big deal, so Misty didn’t need to go through with it over something so petty. True she couldn’t have predicted Pip’s behaviour, but that’s beside the point. “Plus I thought that it would be funny.”
None of this drama was in any way funny. And Misty was going to suffer the consequences, Dude will make sure of that.
“Bud, please tell me that you have the receipt for today.” He said, still keeping a hold on Misty just in case she tried to run away again.
“You know that I try to keep track of our finances.” Bud smirked, catching on with what Dude was planning. He pulled out the receipt and passed it off to Dude rather smugly.
“Misty, you’re paying for the replacement burgers.” Dude ordered, looking at Misty dead in the eyes.
“What?!” Misty exclaimed, her eyes as wide as dinner plates. She tried again to pull away from Dude, but his grip remained firm.
“And for the meal that I had to pay for.” He continued, bringing the point closer to Misty’s face. Misty looked around desperately, hoping for some help. Mimi had her arms crossed disapprovingly. Candi had suddenly found the floor more interesting. Bud had the same commanding look that Dude had on his face. Sprout had an extremely smug look on his face before he poked his tongue out at her for a second. Even Rainbow’s stare had gotten harder. No way out.
“Fine…” Misty sighed in defeat. This wasn’t too bad, she figured. As long as Pip doesn’t find out, everything should be okay. So far everything was that way. However, the leave was interrupted when Sprout let out a comical scream while looking at the doorway. Bud, Dude and Misty turned around and nearly screamed themselves. Standing right behind them, mouth covered in grease and a little bit of ketchup, was a dazed looking Pip. She didn’t say anything right away. She just glanced around, seeing how scared and concerned the Gang looked.
“What’s going on?” Pip asked, unaware of everything that had happened at all. Could she not remember what had happened before? Was this a case of a multiple personality disorder or something? That seemed to be a possible case as Pip wiped her mouth off with a napkin without much of a worry.
“Are you feeling better, Pip?” Candi asked rather bravely.
“Yeah…just one question: when did I get a Burger King?” Pip asked, looking confused as ever when she held up the now empty paper bag. “Last thing I remember was being in the kitchen, looking for a burger.”
“So you don’t remember going on a rampage in the Skyline?” Sprout asked as Candi took the rubbish from Pip. The less chances that she sees the catalyst for her drama, the calmer the rock chick will be.
“Rampage? Me?” Pip repeated in shock. She looked around again, and everyone’s looks confirmed what Sprout had said to be true. “What did I do?”
“Let’s just say that I think you’re part cat.” Dude didn’t hold back as he showed the scratches he had sustained. Pip looked horrified by this. Thankfully for her that this was the worst she had done today. There was no telling how she would’ve reacted if she did something much worse in the Skyline.
“Oh boy…” Pip winced, inspecting Dude’s injuries from where she stood. She looked like a child being scolded by their parent at this point. She just didn’t know how else to react right now other than shame. “I can explain…”
“Please do.” Bud encouraged curiously. It took Pip a couple of minutes to gather up the courage and what she should say next. In the end, she decided to rip the band aid off. No point in beating around the bush.
“I have a craving problem.” She said timidly, tapping her index fingers in shame. Craving problem?! That’s what this was?! “When I haven’t had a burger, especially a beef burger, for a certain amount of time I tend go a bit…crazy…”
“A bit?! We barely managed to put down chasing you as a game that we came up with in the Skyline!” Sprout sputtered, tapping his foot so fast on the ground that he might put a hole in it. “And you used Dude’s arms as scratching posts!”
“I am so sorry, Gang!” Pip wailed, bowing her head low in shame, her cheeks turning bright red. Better than her returning to her craving problem right now. Dude’s plan did the trick for the time being.
“So we need to keep giving you burgers to stop this from happening again?” Mimi wanted to confirm.
“At least once or twice a week.” Pip muttered, still red in shame. At least a couple of things made sense in a way. Every time that it was her turn to cook, Pip would always make burgers and even had them occasionally for lunch on a different day. Just wish that she mentioned her cravings before, then Misty probably wouldn’t have done what she did. “So how exactly did this whole thing happen?”
Misty ducked behind Dude, hoping that someone would help cover up her crimes this time. Oh how the gods hated her right now.
“Misty started it! She threw away your burgers!” Sprout declared, pointing at Misty. He is getting his revenge whether Misty wanted it or not.
“Tattletale!” Misty hissed at the jokester, ready to stomp over and slap him or something. However…
“You did what?!” Pip growled, dragging each word out with animosity. Misty turned incredibly pale within a second. She’d be lying if she said that she wasn’t scared. Everyone else sensed the impending doom as Pip’s face turned dark. All of her shame flipped instantly to rage. They all conversed to a corner of the kitchen where it was safe. Even Misty’s meat shield, A.K.A Dude, started to shift away from her. He did NOT want to get in the crossfire for this.
“Um…I might have…sorta…uh oh!” Misty started to whimper, slowly backing away. Then Pip suddenly launched at her, prompting her to dodge and run out of the kitchen. “Help!”
“Get back here Misty!” Pip shouted, dashing after Misty. The Gang followed for a little bit as the chase continued outside of the house. They watched from the doorway as Misty sprinted as fast as she could with Pip on her heels. You would’ve thought that she was being chased by the Mummy of Tutanra again.
“Lesson of the day: don’t mess with Pip’s burgers.” Bud commented, scratching his head in bewilderment.
“Lesson of the day: don’t mess with Pip full stop.” Mimi added, just as taken aback by this behaviour. Everyone continued to watch the chase. It was almost like watching a cartoon as Misty ran this way and that to avoid Pip’s wrath. In the end, she changed course and headed to the Skyline, praying for a safe place to hide. Pip charged after her like an extremely angry hippopotamus. She may as well be just as dangerous right now.
“Should we help her?” Candi whimpered, hand clutched to her chest in worry. She stroked Rainbow as he offered a supporting nudge.
“Which one?” Sprout laughed. He wished he had a bowl of popcorn right now. Candi didn’t like that response and elbowed him a little. His smile was wiped off his face from that.
“Give Pip two minutes. Then we’ll help.” Dude smirked. Yes, he was making Misty pay for everything, but this was so much better than that. What goes around, comes around. Next time, the mischief might think twice before messing with the rock chick’s favourite food.
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no-droids · 4 years
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Part Eighteen of the Rough Day Series
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 19.5K
Warnings: SMUT, religion kink (maybe?), squirting, consensual stalking/pursuing, canon-typical violence, mention of underage drinking, uhh I believe that’s it but as always, let me know if I’ve forgotten anything please!
A/N: Hey yall!!!  So I know this chapter has been a long time coming and though I’m not completely satisfied with it, I hope it brings a little happiness to you for an hour or two while you read!  School has been kicking my ass and I’ve been in a bit of an emotional slump recently, but I pulled a few all-nighters to post this on time and it’s finally finished!  Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and sent me encouraging words over the past month or so, I hope you enjoy the end of the Sanctuary arc💕
Also like last time, part 2 of my collaboration with @followwhereshegoes will be posted after the chapter!!  As a reminder, sweet girl is a reader insert and every imagining of her will be different—this is Lisa’s interpretation of her and her artwork is absolutely gorgeous, so please go give her a follow!
Day 5–11:13am:
You zone out again in the early morning, but that happens a lot.  Din always keeps you up so late, all the time, and without any caf here, the rising sun just makes your eyes droop instead of flutter brighter and wider.  You helped a bunch of younglings find their way into their robes when it was still dark out, tying sashes and fitting masks while holding back your yawns.  The walk into Nariss is close to three hours, probably more with all these tiny little legs, and you almost forget to change into your new digs before everyone grabs breakfast.
Even though your ragtag entourage leaves for Nariss just as soon as everyone finishes eating, you don’t reach the city until nearly lunchtime.  Mostly because the kids walk about as fast as the elderly holy women chaperoning the trip.  You and Naydee lag behind the group, forcing yourself to meander slow as fuck when you nearly sprinted this same exact path just a few days ago.  On the way there, you listen to children of all sorts sing happily as they walk, chatter about their excitement for the parade, complain about wearing the fabric mask they made themselves, and more than once, somebody takes a tumble onto the ground and is left in teary sniffles and dirt stained clothes.  Likely for this reason, the robes are designed to be two pieces—a long tunic with a hood and a separate pants portion to prevent tripping instead of a draping skirt, but the smallest ones are clumsy and find a way to fall anyways.
It’s a colorful bunch—a chaotic rainbow of babies running around, and you share easy conversation with your new friend about the plans for the day until she asks something that makes you nearly trip and join the dirty robe club.
“Sister Drya said your family is meeting you in the city,” she tells you, ignoring your immediate subtle toe stub and the awkward shuffle you have to do to make up for it.  “There’s going to be lots of people downtown, I’m worried it might be hard for them to find you.”
Your heart thuds in your chest and you feel a bit short of breath at being abruptly confronted with the need to lie, but at the same time, you kind of love it.  Having a secret, hiding the truth from others, and just the reminder that you’re almost guaranteed to see Din and the baby before midnight pours warmth and tingles through your tummy.  Everything together is a hit of spice, filling you with a kind of excitement that used to be foreign to you.  Having fun, experiencing new things isn’t quite over yet, but home is calling and you miss it with every fiber of your being.
“I don’t think so,” you eventually respond, hoping she can see your kind smile and the sentiment it carries even as light, shimmery fabric wraps right around your mouth.  “If I disappear, you’ll know why.”
Naydee’s eyes crinkle in the corners to match yours.  “Hopefully you’ll be able to see the fireworks first,” she nudges you, her skin glowing against the pale cream fabric she has wrapped around her own mouth and the hood laying delicately over her braids.  “They start at eight.”
The fireworks, you almost forgot.  You know what?  Today is a good day.  You hear yourself think the full sentence multiple times, and the words put a spring in your step after every single one.  The road gradually becomes wider and filled with more travelers, and you feel safe in the back.  Like some kind of sheepdog bringing up the rear of this migrating cluster of children, making sure none of them drift off by themselves and start eating grass or something.
Surprisingly, the kids manage to be relatively patient and well-behaved once they’re in line at the gates.  The Sisters shuffle them along one by one as everyone moves up slowly, taking even longer to get into the city than it did a few days ago.  The entrance is packed already—so many people visiting for the festival, and they’re all dressed in costumes or robes of sorts, or at least a mask.  Most are beautifully crafted, but some manage to look slightly scary even with the soft springtime color schemes.  It’s a completely different world, a different life for each person as you pass them by.  Your stomach is starting to growl by the time you finally make it to the front, and luckily the guards just let the kids through without any ceremony.  Just you and the rest of the caretakers in light robes need to hold still for the retinal scan, matching each other perfectly except for differing shades of fabric, skin, and eye color.  Once the gates open for you and you step through, though… it’s… Maker.
Extravagant, magnificent are both words.  Floral is another.
It’s like they hung up bouquets wherever they could think to fit them, and this is just the edge of the city.  As the group moves through the streets and closer to downtown, it becomes more and more overwhelming.  The air itself is a warm fragrance wafting all around you, sunshiney and breezy and perfect, flowers of all kinds lining the modern buildings and archways like they were planted there from the very beginning and it just took this long to bloom between the cracks in the concrete.  You wish you had names for all of them so you could list them—the only thing you can offer is the color and vague descriptions of the ones that stick out to you.  Tiny yellow ones that are so small, they need to be bunched all together in massive quantities to even resemble normal flowers.  Up overhead, elaborate arrangements of enormous blue and purple and pink ones, wrapping around each other and hanging down from rooftops.  Some don’t even have petals, it’s like they’re big green cups that are big enough to hold things inside them.  You’re fascinated by every single one, wanting to stop and smell them all individually but needing to keep up with the large group and not allow any stragglers to be left behind, including yourself.
About an hour later, when you’re almost in the middle of the city and there are people everywhere, it’s time to eat lunch.  There isn’t much to it because of how expensive it is, and you’d normally feel bad for accepting the small meal each one of the children gets, but you donated all of your credits to the Keja and left absolutely zero for yourself.  Good intentions, terrible idea.  Still, you pull your mask down and snack on some deliciously fried food, trying not to eye anyone else’s platter after you finish yours.  It’s so good and it’s gone in an instant; you couldn’t even say what exactly it was besides which stall you got it at.  Whether it’s just the brilliant atmosphere or if the food on this moon is really just that good, you’re not really sure, but you’re still slightly hungry afterwards with no extra money to sneak a snack.
Soon after, the kids all line up to get their faces painted, or whatever portion of their face is visible behind the cloth masks and hoods they’ve got on, and music blares from at least four different directions and none of the songs are even in the same language.  Depending on the part of town, it seems like the celebrations are all different.  It makes sense, considering most if not all of these individuals were victims of the Empire’s wrath, spread far and wide across the galaxy.  Here, they’re free, and they want everyone to know it.  Spring festivals of some sort are likely common for most cultures, at least those from planets with seasons, not like Arvala-7 where it was arid and hot year-round, and you’re assuming there are multiple things being celebrated today depending on which street you live on.  There’s chanting in different tongues, dancing and drums, outfits and masks from different cultures every single time you look.
At some point, the children spot a crowded street with flowery rails set up all along them, and you stand behind the tiny heads while everyone waits for the parade to begin.  You think your heart has just been beating slightly faster than normal all day today, but when you finally hear the sound of sirens blaring in the distance and cheers begin to pour out from the gathered crowd, it kicks up and you feel like you’re just as wide eyed at the spectacle as the waist-high babies all huddled together up against the railing.
A flurry of people and things pass in slow succession.  First, New Republic officers with their blaring holobikes, bright orange as always.  Then come large groups of people walking behind banners in languages you can’t read, some of them waving, some of them making different sounds and songs.  Bands marching in formation, dancers in dresses and masks and gorgeous flowers in their hair like crowns, and then brilliant hovering vehicles decorated in bright colors and festive depictions.  The craftsmanship and cultural significance is stunning to witness, it’s so insanely loud, there’s so much going on, and yet…
Through it all, you think of Din.  No matter the faces, the sights you see.  There’s someone juggling.  There’s either a very tall man and woman walking together or they’re both on stilts.  There are enormous balloons being led through the air, people are riding atop an assortment of animals you’ve never seen before, there are traditional costumes and spectacular stunts being performed.  Stalls with games and prizes line the stretches of concrete on the cross streets, people are laughing and celebrating and drinking in equal parts, everything is so lively and festive and fun, and yet, though it all, you think of Din.  Him and the baby, they’re always in the forefront of your mind, occupying your thoughts and making your tummy stir more and more as the time passes like the parade in front of you.  You don’t think this environment would ever be his favorite, and in some far away galaxy, perhaps if you lived other lives together and called a beautiful moon exactly like this home, then you might have to drag him out to see all the with you and the kid every year.  You’d have to bat your eyelashes and kiss his cheek and snuggle up to him all nice and pretty like, and he’d probably grumble and complain about it while wrapping his arms around you—all the people and the noise, sweet girl—but he’d go.  For you, he’d go.
Your thoughts suddenly stop short and you blink for a second.  Why… Why was that scene so vivid?  So wistful?  You used to preoccupy yourself with fantasies about Din all the time, back before you even knew him as Din.  But in every single one, it was sexual and likely came from a place of boredom, a lack of external stimulation.  Here you are amidst bustling surroundings, and you’re daydreaming about domesticity with him.  Why?  You want to travel the galaxy, right?  You want to see things you’ve never seen before, right?
For some reason, you think of the floor, and you miss it.
***
Day 5—5:04pm:
It’s late afternoon at this point and nobody can find the teens.
More people have made their way into the city and it’s starting to get extremely fucking crowded, especially where you are downtown, and the handful of them must’ve slipped away with all the excitement happening and how difficult it is to keep the young ones together now that the parade is over.  You don’t know how long they’ve been gone—one second they were walking around just slightly detached from the rest of you, you assumed because the boisterous younglings fucked with their cool vibe, and then the next Naydee is gasping out to you that they’re gone.
“Sister Drya is going to kill me,” she hisses, her dark eyebrows furrowed in self-admonishment and stress.  So many fucking people here, you know her pain.  “I was supposed to be chaperoning them, they were just here—”
She shakes her head under the loose, cream-colored hood, groaning and then speeding up her gait to catch up with the woman in charge, but you decide to grab her wrist before she can relay the bad news.  
“I can go find them,” you offer, speaking as low as you can with the blaring noise surrounding you.  “Before anyone knows they’re missing.  Is there a way to convince everybody to stay in one spot for a little while?  You won’t get in trouble, but I need to know how to find you again.”
Naydee’s eyes widen in surprise, and even though it’s likely a bit out of character for you, you have a feeling it’ll be a deceptively easy task.  Even with the masses right now and how atrociously big this city is, you already have a general idea of where they’re likely to be.  Besides, you’re not even sure your absence will be noticed if Naydee is the only one who figured out the teens were gone—the other Sisters can thrive without you while missing anyone else would be noticeable, and you owe your new friend a thousand favors for helping you out these past few days.  The least you can do is save her from the scolding of one of the scariest old ladies you've ever met.
“Be as quick as you can,” she finally agrees.  It’s a lot of trust to put into you, but you’ve had experience in reading the most unreadable man in the entire galaxy, some teenagers shouldn’t pose too much of a problem.  “If you’re not back in thirty minutes or somebody notices, I’ll have to say something.”
You nod, silently breaking away from the group without another word.  You think you can hear her announce to everyone that it might be best to eat dinner now to skip any long lines later—smart—but you’re out of their hearing range and line of sight almost immediately.
***
Day 5–5:17pm:
“Really?”  You raise an eyebrow since they won’t be able to see the way your mouth is twisted up underneath your mask, crossing your arms and tapping your foot against the ground to further illustrate just how not fucking impressed you are.
Seven teenagers freeze, and slowly—depending on how much bravery they can individually muster—they turn around on their stools to face you.  The atmosphere in the tavern is bustling and cheery, booze being passed around a large crowd that laughs and mingles, but your vibe is stone cold and quiet.  The contrast doesn’t feel wrong on you like it normally would; the negative and disapproving energy you’re emitting makes you feel powerful, untouchable, armored and strong.
“How did you find us so fast?”  One of the twin boys squeaks out behind a light blue robe, sounding worried.
“Had a hunch,” you grumble, glaring sternly at each of them in turn.  Your tone is dry, your voice sits lower in your throat when you’re pissed off.  All you had to do was look for the closest bar that doesn’t have any orange jumpsuits poking around waiting to card underage younglings, it wasn’t that difficult.  “You’re not exactly unpredictable.”
“Are you gonna rat us out?”  The other twin asks you, in a voice that’s oddly deep compared to his brother.
“I should,” you snap, quickly reaching out to push their drinks away.  “I should let Sister Drya rain down her holy fury on your asses, got good people all twisted up over you for nothing and I’m missing dinn—”
You don’t know why, but you suddenly cut yourself off and jerk upright, spinning around.
The sounds of glasses clinking and boisterous voices fill the bar, but they seem to fade out for a second.  Your eyes fly around the crowded space, your heart lodged in your throat and looking for anything reflective.  Every flash you see is a false alarm—belt buckle, wristwatch, cocktail shaker—
He’s here… isn’t he?
Only, there’s nothing.  Nothing is out of place, nothing jumps out at you the way you’re assuming it will.  You’re braced taut and ready to bolt at the first sign of a chase, but it never comes.
It’s so… unexpected, this feeling.  It’s not like you’re being hunted anymore, but instead, you’re the hunter.  You’re feeling the weight of him from this far away and it’s like he’s calling for you to come find him, teasing the wild adrenaline rush you get from just feeling his presence, as if he absolutely knows it happens.  Whispering soft in your ear and then vanishing the second you’re able to turn around, like he’s here but he’s not.  Playing with you from so far away.
This… this is a taunt.  
The whole thing at the inn was leagues below this, that was rudimentary.  Teasing, getting even, having fun with each other, whatever you want to call that, that’s what it was.  This is scarily sophisticated.  Fluid and practiced and the best kind of frightening, stark and dangerous compared to the carefree and upbeat setting surrounding you.  You’re not making it up, it’s not just you being paranoid.  You know him with your eyes closed.  You know he’s here somewhere watching you, just like you know the starlight that streaks across the pitch black horizon of hyperspace.  Not because you can see it, not really, not directly.  But because by it, even in the vastest and darkest and emptiest of voids, you’re suddenly able to see everything else.
“You okay, Nerida?”
The volume gradually comes back up and you blink, suddenly remembering where you are, who else is with you.  The chatter becomes slightly louder than it seemed before.
“Yeah,” you eventually say, slightly airy while continuing to stare emptily at the crowded room.  He’s not here, you don’t think, not anymore at least.  But you’re not stupid, you know what this means.  You’re already caught, there’s nothing you can conceivably do that will delay the reunion for the next—you look down and pull the loose sleeve up to check your communicator—seven fucking hours, there’s no way.  He’ll pull back and follow you, keep up with you from a distance and then snatch you away right when you let your guard down.  You at least need to get the kids back to their guardians before that can happen, though.
“Let’s go,” you quietly tell the group of foundlings, grabbing elbows and hauling them out of their stools.  “Naydee was the only one who knew that you were gone when I left.  Here’s to hoping she managed to keep it that way.”
***
Day 5–5:32pm:
Against all odds, you’re able to rally the wayward teens and successfully lead them through shoulders that are beginning to move closer together as the crowd grows and grows.  You stay towards the back and don’t look behind you once—not only do you not want to give the younglings an unnecessary reason to become paranoid or to question your actions, but you can still feel Din lingering.  Moving like a shadow, probably fitting in perfectly with the masked festival-goers, nothing drawing any attention to him with all the spectacular sights and noise occurring.
Soon you return to the same spot from before, and you and the teenagers seamlessly integrate yourselves back into the rest of the group without anyone noticing a thing is out of place.  When you move to stand beside her, Naydee’s bone-deep sigh of relief is palpable even behind the concealing fabric; she squeezes your hand incredibly tight in a silent gesture of thanks, and then pulls something from the deep pockets of her robe and passes it to you sneakily.  A purple fruit.  She must’ve saved it for you.
Maker, fuck yes.  It’s not much but it’s more dinner than any of the seven troublemakers get, but Naydee quietly assures you they’ll be able to eat something once they return to the Keja around midnight, just not the tasty expensive treats they’re selling at the vendors.  As the sun goes down, you try not to stain your pretty fabric a deep maroon as you chomp and feel your lips start to curl upwards.  It sounds so fucking stupid when you put it like this, but you keep going back to Din and revelling in knowing that he’s so close, like you’re just mentally checking in on him.  You don’t get the sensation by thinking, though—more like you just focus really hard on your heart and feel him there just a second afterwards.
Is that how pure, stupid, shameless love feels when you’re completely entrenched in it?  It’s not like it’s surrounding you, it’s not suffocating you or making you float.  It’s just a thing.  Like… a thing inside your chest, a physical thing you can search for and find, something you can point to on your body and say it’s right here, this is where my love for him lives.  Right at the bottom of your heart, right where it curves and beats strong when other hearts meet flat at sharp angles.  You do it over and over again, reconfirming its existence every single time.  You don’t know what else you’d call it.  Love is the only word.  To love, to know.  To hold in the heart.
Soon, you start to notice that people are slowly moving around your stationary group.  You look up and watch the crowd begin to walk, some of them giving soft smiles to the cute children as they pass by, but all of them following the same unspoken direction.
“Where is everyone going?”  You ask Naydee, standing on your tiptoes to watch the crowd migrate like a giant system, an organism or mechanism of thousands (or tens of thousands?) of smaller moving parts all traveling in tandem.  It’s fascinating—you’ve been to crowded places, you know what it looks like when a lot of people are packed into one area, but you’ve never seen what it looks like when they all move together.  They would normally be bumping into each other, slipping in between, fighting and never really getting anywhere, interacting individually and thinking separately.  Now they’re progressing in one single direction, so many with the same mindset and understanding of what comes next.  A second parade, almost, with New Republic officers directing the flow of pedestrians as they pass.
“The eastern part of the city!”  Naydee yells over the noise and points, and beyond her extended finger, you can barely see the light of a dusky body of water in the distance beyond the buildings.  “The fireworks are going to go off over the bay, but it takes awhile to get there!”
“Is…”  You blink for a second, suddenly caught off guard, trying to think back to the holomap the concierge pulled up at the front desk of the inn.  Surely you would’ve noticed it, but your sudden childlike hope makes you ask anyway.  “Is it part of an ocean?”
Naydee shakes her head.  “A really big lake!”
Your shoulders drop just the slightest bit in disappointment but still, you ache to see it.  You can’t even imagine—the fireworks are likely going to reflect across the water, giving everyone double the view.  And luckily, after all the children and caretakers are individually accounted for, you start to behind the slow-moving crowd towards the docks you know lie beyond.  
Naydee scurries ahead to keep the kids together, ushering them forward and preventing any drunk passer-bys from accidentally stepping on them, and you quietly bring up the very rear of the entourage.  You take the time to observe more than anything, walk in the back and experience instead of trailblaze.  So many people, so many stories to be told, so many differences and diversity around you.  Your face is partially concealed and you don’t move your head too much, just your eyes.  They flick around to take in everything, the crowd thinning little by little as you make it out of the confined space downtown.  You’re able to make out full bodies and outfits again instead of just heads and shoulders, allowing you to breathe just a bit easier under your mask.
And then at one point—and it’s almost a little startling because it happens all at once—the organizers must decide that the sun has officially gone down, because the lights come on.  All of a sudden, paper lanterns and bulbs flicker into existence all around you and the world decides it wants to glow, glint and twinkle from the inside out.  They’re everywhere, draping across rooftops and tangled around street signs and stuffed into the flower bouquets overhead, raining soft colors down on everything.  You’re in complete awe, trying to keep walking but also needing to look at as much as fucking possible in the suddenly luminescent city.  It’s so colorful, so vernal and warm and you feel like you’re… Like when you took a shower on the Crest for the first time and spent a few happy moments just playing with the water and soap for your own enjoyment, it’s as if all the brilliant rainbow of colors the bubbles would make under the fluorescent light decided to surround you at the same time.  You’re inside stained glass, blinking at the flowers and wondering if Din can even smell the air or if it’s filtered, processed and reduced to nothing under the helmet.
And that’s when you see him.
But with the way your chest rapidly constricts and you can count your heart beats as they pound, blaring white noise through your ears and adrenaline through your veins, it’s like he's just allowing it to happen.  You immediately understand that you don’t have fucking anything the second your eyes land on him; this isn’t a heads up that you caught wind of early, it’s not a gift or an advantage you’ve incidentally gained over him that you should be thankful for.  Being able to see him directly like this, being able to make out all these fucking details from this far away…  This just feels like you’re being informed of the endgame right before it comes.  If you were anyone else, if you were a real bounty and this was a real hunt, his armor glinting and reflecting the lanterns overhead would feel like a knife you're about to be on the wrong side of.
You have a decision to make, very quickly.  Either keep in this same direction, head straight towards him and just pretend like you are who you’re dressed as, a random caretaker for a bunch of rowdy foundlings during a spring festival on Nariss, or disappear.  Drop back, move through the crowd and use the distance you have between you right now as your only hope of getting away in time.  Neither one gives you a particular advantage—your chances of being caught have already skyrocketed exponentially just being able to see the reflection in his armor, the hovering shield at his side with big black eyes… staring directly at you.
You almost trip over your pantlegs, gasping.  Baby.  He beams at you and you think he calls out through the passing crowd, his tiny arms extending out, and your chest feels like you’re pulling organs as if they were muscles, cramping up and seizing with emotion.  You want to run to them even though you’re meant to be running from them, call out over the noise and wave even though you’re not supposed to.  You want to hold the kid again, squish his little forehead with kisses, walk around with Din’s hand pressed against your lower back and see the fireworks with him.
Your hands clutch at the draping fabric covering your chest, pulling and twisting it uncertainly.  What do you do, what do you do?
No matter what, you know it’s over.  Keep your head down and try to move past him, or break away from your group and try to escape—both are different paths that lead to the same result.  What’s the point of running when he’s the one chasing you?  The heart-pounding thrill is the only reason you’re even considering it, but his body stands so tall amongst the crowd, not moving while people ebb and flow like a river passing around him.
Except then you can hear his voice repeat the last thing he said to you in person as if he says it directly into the comm in your ear.  When you do see me… try to outrun.
You should run—run, it’s better than just hoping he doesn’t see you when you already know he does.
Unless…
Out of a trillion different possibilities, you soon realize that there is exactly one situation in which this could turn out in your favor.  You can immediately picture the scenario in your mind, but there’s just too many variables to conceivably rely on getting them all right.  This maybe has a… two percent chance of working?  Maybe?  Everything would have to go perfectly, just fucking flawlessly, but what other choice do you have?  Two percent is better than whatever odds you’re dealing with now.
You walk silently behind the group of foundlings as you approach closer and closer, keeping your head purposefully down as they skip and giggle and dance ahead.  He knows you’re here—he has to know, you’re counting on him knowing.  Walk right in front of him, pretend like you don’t see, make sure you keep left.  Keep left, keep left, keep your head down, keep your head down—
A leather glove suddenly catches hold of your wrist hard enough to tug you backwards.
Your gasp is audible over the sound of the crowd and you spin around, jerking your head up to look at him in fear.  Your heart slams as the beskar reflects your mask and hood back at you—you’re terrified and it shows, you can see it in your eyes.
You quickly try to yank your hand away, even as your index finger stretches up towards the communicator around his wrist.
“Miss Nerida?”  A child’s voice cries, and then small hands grab at you from behind as you bury the urge to actually fight him.  Your instincts are demanding you attack when his grip is this strong, but you just whine and struggle, slapping weakly at him with your free hand and feeling more of the younglings begin to pull at you, their high pitched voices calling more and more attention to the scene.
Your gaze flicks to the side, suddenly landing on a pair of New Republic officers helping direct the thousands of moving bodies from the closest street corner.  They’re looking at you, pointing and beginning to speak into their own comm units.  Din’s helmet snaps sideways to follow your gaze, and then he’s immediately dropping your wrist and stepping back, retreating as quickly as he caught you.  Though you don’t want to—though you don’t want to give yourself away even more, you want to pretend fully that he was a complete stranger and the children were right to try to help you get away—your eyes fall to your son in the hovering crib by his side and you feel yourself crumble just a bit.
Just a few more hours, kid.  A few more hours.
Children pull you away while your pursuers both disappear into the crowd, and you quickly turn to soothe the tiny babies instead of chasing after the one you miss so terribly.
“I’m alright,” you tell them, scooting them up and encouraging them to continue walking.  Blend in, blend in, don’t let anybody think anything is wrong.  “Come on, we’re fine, come on, we have to catch up.”
They take your lead as soon as one of the caretakers turns around and sees the small group crowding around you.  You think she asks what happened, but you just tell her a man mistook you for someone else and nothing more comes of it.  She’s able to settle the chaos better than you are, and by the time you’re continuing to travel forwards once more like nothing happened, the communicator suddenly flicks on in your ear.
“What did you do?”  He breathes out, his footsteps moving fast through his voice.  He’s traveling much quicker than you expected—is he still being followed?  The officers are gone from your sight, they might be going after him right now, weaving between bodies and calling out to the perpetually vanishing glint of armor as he navigates his way out of danger.
You look down at the comm on your wrist and your heart nearly soars with victory.  It worked.  It worked.  You just have to outlast a bit longer, don’t draw any extra attention to it—he’s preoccupied and he certainly doesn’t sound happy, but you hope that’ll be enough to make him slip.  Use his frustration to your advantage, let him think the only thing you were successful at was momentarily escaping him.
“The cops weren’t part of the plan,” you admit quietly, keeping your head down as your loose hood billows in the twilight breeze.  “Don’t get caught.”
There’s a few moments of just his breathing, his footsteps, and the noise floor humming through the comm, before he finally responds.  “You look beautiful.”
You stare unseeingly down at the concrete under your feet, still feeling your hand tingle from where he caught you.  The line abruptly mutes on his end and you just keep moving forward, onward, wanting to look back but knowing he’s already long gone.
***
Day 5–5:24pm:
Din is fucking furious.
He had you.  You were right there, right in front of him, and even if he hadn’t been subtly trailing you all day, seeing the red footsteps get covered and flicker out of existence just a few moments after you make them, he would’ve recognized you anywhere.  In black and white, in the fading light, with your face covered, children calling you by a different name and attaching themselves to you like they’ve known you forever—doesn’t matter, he would’ve known you.  Your eyes have always given you away, always so expressive and starry and soft, but able to see right through solid steel whenever you look at him.
But then you slipped from his grasp, and then more guards pushed him further and further away from you.  They must all be in constant communication, because every single jumpsuit he sees immediately spots him and starts following.  It’s fucking exhausting, and he thinks of you the whole time.
He waits in a dark alley with the kid and taps the side of the helmet a few times to bring up the time on his comm, but then relaxes just slightly when he sees the hour.  It’s earlier than he thought it was, he’ll be able to find you again.
Though, something tugs at him while he’s looking at the clock ticking away in front of his eyes, counting down each second that passes.  There was… a moment.  Back in the square, when he was holding onto you again, when you were looking directly into his once more—everything in his helmet— 
No, he shakes his head while the kid looks up at him curiously, it can’t be.  It was just a split second, it was gone so fast.
But he can’t get rid of it.  Though there’s no explanation, he thinks the display screen flickered.  The sky behind you looked different for a single frame, your footsteps weren’t bright red and visible anymore, your eyes weren’t grey and he stopped wondering what shade of fabric you and your friend decided to choose for you to wear.  It was silvery, he’s almost certain.  Like his armor, it only reflected the color of everything around it.
Color.  Everywhere.  Bursting for a blink of an eye, and then gone just as quick, before he could actually figure out what it really meant.
***
Day 5–6:59pm:
This water is quiet here, but it sparkles.
It doesn’t ever really get truly dark thanks to the enormous hanging moon and ringed gas giant dancing with Sanctuary II, constantly reflecting light back onto the surface and reacting with some of the trace chemicals up above the atmosphere, and you think the sky just might be the prettiest you’ve ever seen it.  Must have something to do with the equinox, the glimmering angles of light being played with by celestial bodies in this stunning system, but it’s a dream.  The Maker apparently couldn’t decide which colors he wanted tonight so he just splashed all of them together all at once, let them run and blend like ink in the gentle water below, like the various people who call this moon home.
That view in front of you, coupled with all the flowers and lanterns lining the streets behind you, and you’ve lost track of time the exact same way you hoped Din would.  You think you’ve stood for about an hour or so in this one spot, half-listening to excited chatter from the babies, mostly just gazing across the stretch of water and being able to just barely spot the docks in the distance, but it feels like it’s only been minutes.
You check your watch—the fireworks should be starting any second now.  You don’t know what to expect, just that in your experience, explosions tend to be loud.  You've decided you’re not going to plug your ears, though.  Tummy twisting with nerves and another inexplicable feeling you can’t quite put your finger on, you resolve to experience the unknown exactly the way it’s meant to be.  Fully, without worry or fear.
Then, lacking any warning or ceremony whatsoever, a single flare launches silent and high from one of the small boats skimming the bay, and the crowd seems to hold its collective breath as the dim light disappears into thin air for a split second, before—
It’s… quite possibly the most dazzling thing you think you’ve ever seen.  So shamelessly decorative just for the sake of it, not serving any other practical purpose besides celebration and visual spectacle, and you’ll probably never know another extravagance like it.  You grew up with dust pelting against tired eyes, you never thought they’d get to reflect such gorgeous bursts of color back up at the sky, glassy and childlike amongst a group of equally wide-eyed children.
As expected, a deafening boom follows closely behind the singular display, but just witnessing it is incredible enough to make you forget to brace yourself for the sound and you jump almost violently in response.  There comes a loud cheer from the people standing around you, a few delighted gasps and children who decide now is the best time to start crying, but then more flares begin to launch from the boats and the subsequent show will sear itself into your memory to replay over and over again.
Still, you think the endless sky and dark water below would have to light on fire to stop him from coming to mind.
Din.
You click the comm on, continuing to stare in stunned awe but wanting nothing more than to hear his voice right now, feel his hand rest on your lower back and the kid’s three fingers squeezing one of yours while the stars rain down from above.  You’re only continuing to run from him because it’s expected of you, that’s the reason you’re here, but it’s becoming harder and harder to argue with yourself.  “Do you always see in black and white?”
It takes him just a few seconds to respond, but he always does.  “Only when I’m tracking someone.”
The loud booms can be heard over the earpiece, happening maybe a second after they crack and sparkle above you.  You can’t tell if the latency is due to the electronics or if he’s just that far away from the source of the sound itself, but… you don’t think he is.  He feels close again, like he could just walk up right next to you any second, or maybe that’s just how he always feels now.
“Does that mean you haven’t seen the sky here?”  You ask after a moment.  This whole time, everything has been grey for him?
“I saw it,” Din murmurs, and even though it’s quiet and explosions are thundering loud enough to deafen more sensitive ears, his quiet voice somehow breaks through it all.  “When you left the Crest, I saw it behind you.”
For some reason, you suddenly feel like crying.  Whether it’s the way he phrases it or the sentiment in the words, you’re close to tears without even knowing why, looking up at the sky illuminating spectacularly.  He says it like he wasn’t the one who parked on this moon and told you to go on without him.  “Can you… turn it off for just a second?”
He takes a second, before clarifying for you.  “I turn it off and I lose your footprints.”
So that was the ultimatum.  He doesn’t want to turn it off until you’re back with him again.  Does he not understand?  Does he not know what you know?  Maybe you just happened to feel it first, this overwhelming physical sensation inside you whenever you think about him.  It’s like the exact opposite of a hole in your chest.  And it’s so odd, so counterintuitive.  Being comforted in his absence, feeling him with you when he isn’t.  Falling in love in the dark, knowing him without ever seeing him.
“You never needed them,” you say, reaching up to pull your mask down under your jaw and chin for a moment, wanting to freely breathe the freshwater and flowers while stars explode and fracture across the sky.  It’s a truth you’re acknowledging, something you’ll carry with you, something you fundamentally own at this point.  “You’d find me without the helmet.  And I’d find you.”
The fireworks continue to bleed into the water beneath them, multicolor splashes rippling into existence and disappearing just as quick.  You could’ve never imagined a more colorful, magnificent landscape—besides your waterfall on Naboo, of course.  That was a pure product of nature though, a place hidden away and untouched by people, completely sacred.  Light refracting against mist, natural glass that would shatter under your weight.  This is a celebration of life and family.  Loud in a different way, affecting you in a different way, but just as wonderful and touching.  A cultivated paradise, designed to be beautiful and safe only because they wanted it to be.
“Think so?”  He asks softly.  He sounds so deep and warm, but… a little distant.  You’re able to hear it in his words.  You don’t know why, though.  Doesn’t he believe you?  Perhaps… perhaps this isn’t The Way.  Perhaps this is part of a completely different oath, one where knowing and loving somebody isn’t the same thing as looking at their face, not at all.  Where you can have them exist entirely separate from each other, because this is love.  This is real, enduring, bone-deep love, and you haven’t ever seen his face, so how would he explain that?  How would the Mandalorians reconcile that?  You bear the mark of the mudhorn, you’ve moved through time and space with him, you’re a mother to his son, and you’ve never seen his face.  It defies both the Mandalorian oath and traditional understandings of love, or it meets them right in the middle, depending on how you look at it.
“I know so.”  For the first time, you think you might sound more confident and certain than he does.  Maybe he doesn’t fully get it yet, but then you suppose he’ll just have to trust you.  “Will you look at the sky?”
“I see it,” Din tells you, but you know he doesn’t.  Not the way you want him to.  And stars, you just want so many things for him, don’t you?  The sky, fresh air, water, light, food, rest.  You want him to see the galaxy the way you do—have a new appreciation for the gifts that are given just because you’re alive to experience them.  All the physics and mathematics aligned perfectly for it to happen—all the chemistry, the systems, the dynamics that dictate the universe, they all got together and crafted a world where you, him, and the kid all exist together at the same time.  You want him to know the significance of that.
“With color?”  You ask, knowing his answer before he seems to.
“I…”  Din wants to argue, or at least say it again.  He can’t or he’ll lose you, he already told you he doesn’t want to turn the setting off.  It’s such an unnecessary conflict, but you want to respect it so much that you’re willing to give up things of your own to make it happen.
“How do I fix it then?”  You whisper, so desperately wanting this one thing for him, this one grandeur to behold.  How do you fix this problem?  How do you convince him to look with you?  You’d offer to just go and find him instead of continuing to run away for the next few hours, but you know the show will be over soon and you don’t have much time left.  “Do you want me to come look for you?  It’ll be too late by then, you’re too far away.  Look at the sky.”
It’s silent for a moment—truly silent, even though colorful bombs are going off above the bay.  You don’t know why you’ve attached yourself to this so strongly, but it’s almost devastating when you don’t get a response.  You look away from the spectacle for the first time in an eternity, gazing unseeingly into the crowd of onlookers with a sudden sadness taking hold of you.  He won’t look, he’s too stubborn, he holds onto things too tightly.
But then, a flurry of flares start launching in rapid succession from the distant boats, screaming and crying on their way up and then igniting into showers of light, and the abrupt increase in activity manages to catch your attention once again.  This must be the end, they saved the best for last.  Every corner of the horizon flashes and sparks, and you’re mesmerized at how bright it is, how many colors they’ve managed to fit into one single frame.
“It’s beautiful,” comes his voice, and the smile that you break into feels just right for the brilliance of the view above you.  Maker, it is, isn’t it?  Now you can hear it—he sounds like he’s looking at it too, with color, in all its breathtaking glory, and you feel like you’re flying.  Like he picked you up and let you watch up close, like you can feel his armor under your fingers right now as he carries you through the sky.
It swells up inside you, a rising wave similar to the ones you can see in the distance, and you know you probably shouldn’t say it because it’s not in your best interest to say it right now, but you have to say it anyways.  It’s an unknowable compulsion, a need to connect and communicate directly with him but for your sake, not presently, not at this exact moment in time.
Luckily, you mute your comm just in time and simply give the words to him from very far away.
“Hurry up,” you say, sending the sentiment into the sky with all your love, and the conflicting hope that he won’t take the advice until a bit later on.  “Come and find me.”
***
Day 5–7:37pm:
After the fireworks are over, people start to drift off in separate directions, clearing the traffic and congestion from the streets around you.  Someone puts their hand on your shoulder and you blink a few times, spinning around and almost stepping on a bunch of tiny little feet by accident.
Stars, that’s a lot of children.  They’re all crowded around Naydee, who pats a few heads and almost buckles under the younglings clinging to her leg.
“Figured you would be long gone by now,” she grins at you from behind her mask, and you’re reminded to pull yours up over your face just from looking at her.  “It’s late—we’re going back to the Keja.”
“Oh, shit,” you breathe in surprise, but the noise of the gradually dispersing crowd manages to cover it up.  At least from younger, more easily distracted ears, but you think Naydee hears you.  Her dark eyes roll good-naturedly, looking happy but exhausted from the long day.  You’re going to have to say goodbye now.
“What happened to your family?”  She asks after a moment, and you think she’s being careful with the way she says it, likely because family is a difficult topic to navigate in general around some of the children hanging on her and begging for her attention.  “Have you been in touch with them?  If not, I’m sure you can come back with us.  It’ll be late by the time we get there, but at least you’ll be safe.”
You open your mouth to automatically decline her offer, knowing Din is still in the crowded city looking for you and wanting to stay where there’s lots of people.
But then… well, he would expect you to do that, wouldn’t he?
There’s more people here.  More danger, but better places to hide.  It’s the obvious choice, it’s the one that makes the most logical sense.  But you’d also be completely alone and you’re assuming the only reason he hasn’t snatched you up yet—which you know he could’ve done multiple times by now, is likely because you’re with a group of innocent foundlings, moody teenagers, and very stern older women.  He probably doesn’t realize you’ve told them about him and the kid, though you were slightly vague on the details.
It’s also a little over three hours to get back, but you’re banking on it being closer to four with how whiney and tired some of the small voices sound, others sounding like they’re an enormous sugar rush contained into a tiny little capsule.  Would he have the gall to try and get you right from under their noses?  Will he even know you left the city, or will he assume you made the smartest decision possible and simply account for it ahead of time?  No, you're overthinking it, just make a decision and stick with it.
“There’s also free food,” Naydee shrugs while you’re still considering, but… well, that settles that.  Almost three days of friendship and she already knows exactly how to win you over in the end.  Sustenance for your empty tummy, an escort the entire way there, and heavily guarded walls beyond.  Din will have to get creative in response—you flaunted your imagination for days, coming up with dozens of evasion tactics to outlast him, but this one just seems… incredibly practical.  Exploiting a weakness of his—isolating it, having it be reinforced by precedent, and then taking advantage of it.  You bet he’ll catch on, but still, it’ll make it more difficult for him, and you’re grasping at straws to hang on just a little longer.
“I…”  Quick, come up with something.  You clear your throat.  “The city is too crowded, I haven’t been able to find them.  I could just… tell them where I’m headed and see if they can find me along the way?”
Naydee smiles and nods.  “Sounds perfect.”
Yet, the entire walk back… you keep thinking you’re going to feel Din trailing behind you, waiting to feel the nerves twist in your tummy and your palms to sweat, but you don’t.  You keep glancing over your shoulder and then down at your wrist, needing to talk yourself out of addressing him through the comm to let him know exactly what the plan is.  You like maintaining a sense of secrecy from the new characters you’ve met on your adventures—Naydee, Karga, Peli—almost everyone you’ve been introduced to, you found a way to find a subtle enjoyment in hiding certain things from them.  But with Din, you don’t have any walls.  They crumbled nearly a full year ago when he silently pushed a cauterizer in your hand and took his armor off for you, and you’ve felt the inexplicable need to bare yourself to him in return ever since.  It would be to your extreme detriment to do it now, but you still have to fight the urge.
Even if you don’t feel him following, you still find yourself acting like he is.  Constantly turning back to double check the road behind you, drifting off in the middle of shallow, distant conversations with tiny foundlings who can’t tell the difference, keeping towards the middle of the pack this time to avoid being picked off towards the back.  The belltower at the orphanage is loud and will ring for quite a distance, so your timing has to be utterly pristine for this to all work out.  You eye your comm the entire way there, trying to stall just the right amount to avoid any realizations or fall into any traps he may be setting for you.
You eventually leave the city walls far behind you, and now you have no clue where he is.  You lost him, and maybe that’s why you feel your heart beat insanely fast the whole time.  He could be anywhere now.  Behind you, adjacent, parallel—you can’t decide where to look, but it keeps you wide awake and focused while the group tiredly travels back to the temple.
***
Day 5–11:32pm:
You can see it in the distance, the brick buildings slowly coming into view.  One might think your stress would have worked itself out by now, been brought back to a manageable level after four hours of walking, but you’ve been on red alert for the past hour or so.  Any movement or rustle that doesn’t come from the sleepy children or exhausted caretakers, you’re on top of it, snapping your attention to the offending tree or animal and not being able to relax even after affirming it’s just nature, it’s not shiny metal bounding after you in the darkness, ready to take you down.
The infants are all likely snoozing away in the nursery, and the Sister who volunteered to stay behind and look after them comes to greet the group at the gate as you approach.  Like always, two Brothers open the iron bars to allow you inside, and you feel the anxiety dig its claws into your tummy.  If Din is going to get you, this is the very last moment to do it.  These walls are guarded and you’re nervous for him, you’re nervous for yourself—you’re just fucking nervous.  Jumpy and worried, not being able to pinpoint him anymore and feeling all the more anxious because of it.
It doesn’t feel right.  Nothing feels right about this, but you can’t figure out specifically what’s wrong.  This was the exact plan, this was a way for you to just survive these last few hours and yet, it doesn’t feel right that you actually succeeded in doing so.  It doesn’t make sense that he’d allow you to return all the way here, especially when he was close enough to touch you earlier.  Din has had so much time to snatch you up, so many opportunities to lure you away, confront you—anything to catch you, and he hasn’t done it yet.  Why?  Either you truly did escape and he has no idea where you are, which doesn’t feel right, or he’s choosing not to get you for whatever reason, which also doesn’t feel right.  What’s he waiting for?  You can’t have won.  It was all too fucking easy, you’re expecting to see him around every single corner because he should be there, he shouldn’t have allowed this to happen.
When someone gently touches your elbow, you’re so on edge that you nearly whip around in surprise.
“Sorry!”  Naydee immediately apologizes, taking her hand back to lift her hood and remove the mask covering her face.  “Didn’t mean to scare you!  I was just going to say that the commissary is still open,” she offers, and you watch the small group of hungry teenagers break off from the group to make their way there.  “It’s going to take awhile to get the children ready for bed, so we’ll be in the dormitories if you need to sleep.  Otherwise, I’m not sure I’ll see you again.”
You stare at her and blink a few times, trying to readjust your focus.  She’s your new friend, she just said this was likely the last time you’ll see each other, but you can’t stop thinking about Din.  Imagine he’s hours away in the city right now, still looking for you.  You’re trying to evaluate your priorities here, but you truthfully never expected to get this far.  Inside the gates, surrounded by brick buildings and silent guards.  You know your way around here, you know hiding spots, you know how to outlast—it’s incredibly advantageous for you to be inside these walls.  What is he doing?
Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you give Naydee a quick hug and she happily accepts it.  “I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point.”
She smiles and nods, pulling back and letting a couple grumpy foundlings catch her robes and yank on them impatiently.  The loud group eventually disappears into the dorms, and the door shutting behind them cuts off the tired crying and chatty voices determined to stay awake, leaving you in silence that feels slightly unfamiliar after going without it for so long.
Fuck, you just need to breathe.  As soon as the dead quiet grips the air around you, you realize you need to relax.  You’re way too fucking wound up; you want to bolt at the smallest thing and the sudden silence of being alone multiplies it to the point where you have to remind yourself of its importance.  Breathe.  Focus.  There’s about fifteen minutes before the bells ring, fifteen more minutes and the chase will be all over.
Can you eat?  You thought you’d want to, but you think you’re too fucking antsy.  You can’t stay here alone, that’s for sure, but you also don’t want to be around all the children right now.  The commissary will have a handful of people wandering around, teens snacking and maybe a Brother or two standing guard.  It’s the best place to wait the clock out, so you make your way there.  The gentle breeze billows around your loose robes, your pantlegs swishing as you walk.
A few minutes later, you’ve got a plate of food in front of you but your mask is still up, and you’re just sitting there.  Towards the back of the large room, sitting by yourself at one of the tables and staring down at your communicator.  Five minutes.  You have five fucking minutes left before he finds you.  Can you feel him?  Is he closing in?
You sit up a bit straighter, taking a deep breath.  Focus on that feeling from earlier.  The presence in your chest, the weight that didn’t used to be there months ago—focus on that feeling and branch it outwards.  Can you feel him?
Something catches your eye.
Or no… it doesn’t, does it?  Nothing is out of place here, nothing is visibly wrong or amiss.  The only thing that’s changed from all the times before is how dark it is through the windows, and how there are only a few kids in here grabbing a midnight snack instead of being packed like usual.  Nothing else.
But there’s… there’s an acolyte in the far corner, standing guard with his back to the wall.  It’s not his presence that gives you pause—you expected him to be here, there’s always been at least one present whenever you’ve sat down to eat.  He doesn’t look any different from the rest of the Brothers you’ve passed by this evening or the days before—tall, silent, dark brown robes, hooded and mysterious—so why do you suddenly feel yourself break out into a cold sweat as soon as your eyes land on him?
Bubbling laughter and chatter echoes through the large room from one of the tables near the entrance—seven teenagers stuffing their faces with food and sharing animated conversation with each other now that it’s late and they’re alone—but your stomach twists and your fingers start to tremble as you slowly rise from your seat in the back.  You want to keep your head down and be casual but it’s impossible, you desperately need to keep looking at that silent guard in particular and your heart kicks up in your chest—
—and then it wrenches sideways when you’re carefully backing away from the table and the offending acolyte takes a single step forwards.
Run.  Everything in you screams for you to run, and it’s rarely done that before, but you can’t.  Not yet, you don’t want to draw attention, and the logical part of your mind rages against your gut instinct to haul ass.  He’s here—of course he is, the thought screams through your veins as you try to weave quickly in between tables, feeling light on your toes and readying yourself to run as soon as you can.  The dark figure seems to find a careful pace behind you, staying just far enough behind and walking in perfect silence, and you have so many fucking questions but you can’t even think a single thing beyond run away, run away.  Where’s the kid?  How did he get those robes?  Did he actually take his helmet off just to get to you in a room where anyone could confront him?
Your feet propel you forward as soon as you make it out of the door, you break out into a sprint—just flat out bolting because you know how fucking fast he is and you need as big a headstart as you can get.
You race down the stairs and through the courtyard, the beautiful surroundings contrasting drastically with the way you’re running for your fucking life through them.  It’s not beautiful to you right now; you feel clumsy and physically unable to move fast enough no matter how quick you go, your eyes are wide and every nerve is on fire and you can’t even tell if he’s behind you anymore with how silently he moves, but you just trust that he is and keep barreling forward.  Your breath puffs against the clinging fabric of your mask as you keep sprinting, willing your legs to pump faster.  Get to the belltower at least, get to where you have the smallest chance of being caught by the people who guard this place.
As soon as you allow yourself to even conceive the possibility, two Brothers in dark hooded robes suddenly turn the corner a little ways in front of you and your reaction time is perfect—you jerk to a halt and take a single step forward as soon as they spot you.  Since your momentum already committed you to it, you just have to walk, keep your head down, move directly past them and hope Din disappeared from behind you in time.
Step, step, step—keep going, control your breathing, you’re okay, you’re allowed to be up late tonight and they shouldn’t stop you.  Walk right by…  Stars, you feel their silent stares as you casually pass, and it just feels so cold and analytical compared to the kind of danger Din is gives off when dressed in the exact same clothing.  He’s hard and tangible and an unrelenting force, where they just feel like ghosts that haunt this place.  The threat they present is impersonal and detached, but the terror currently chasing after you is so real that he can read your mind.
You wipe the sweat from your brow as soon as you turn the corner, and your feet are already starting to speed up on their own knowing you’re out of their sight.  Run, get to the belltower before Din does, you can see it standing tall about a hundred feet away.  The stairs leading to the door come closer and closer, but you hear something behind you and it propels you faster.  It’s like you can feel him right at your heels even though you haven’t seen him, snapping at your ankles even though your footsteps are the only ones you can hear anymore.
You scramble up the stairs and close the door behind you, spinning around and facing it even as you slowly retreat backwards into the moonlit tower, trying to stay quiet.  Breathing through your nose, eyes shifting around the enclosed space, continuing to back up and away from the door.  Where is he?  There are so many windows that allow you to look outside, but why can’t you spot his movement through them?  Wasn’t he right behind you?
Behind you.
There’s no reason or logic at all to it; you just react.  Spinning around and throwing a mean punch.
Din jerks back just in time to miss it, twisting and dodging at the very last second to avoid your next few hits—but… things seem to slow down, even if they’re happening so fast.  The moonlight cascades through the dozens of windows lining the circular walls and it shines just enough to reveal small glimpses of him.  With every aggressive strike from you, you see something else—you see a flash of his chin when you try to uppercut, you aim for his chest and you see a bit of his jaw.  When you go for his jaw, he steps sideways and catches your wrist, and you see the bend of his nose catch the light this time.
But then it’s like he finally figures out that you’re actually fighting him, and now he’s coming for you.  Trained and ruthless, not weighed down by any armor and lightning quick, launching perfectly aimed attacks that you’re only able to avoid from reaction and muscle memory alone.  You block or move whenever he strikes, you attack whenever you see an opening, you sidestep at the same time he does—
Until you land a spin kick directly to the center of his chest and snap your leg to shove him back, your heel smashing into that soft spot right above his stomach with dead precision and brute force.  He exhales sharply and takes a few more steps back to steady himself while you pause to catch your breath.
Din abruptly comes back and you fall into it with him again, keeping a sharp rhythm with each other that’s faster, harder, and way more real than any sparring match you’ve ever shared.  The hours and days in hyperspace you spent practicing with him are but a fraction of what he’s throwing at you right now, the combinations so rapid and blurred that you just have to trust your knowledge of him and his movement through the dark.
But then, your downfall.  Bells begin ringing an earsplittingly familiar melody above you, and it shatters your concentration—you falter just as he grabs you and sweeps your feet out, and though you know how to get out of that, you’re not quick enough on the jump nor counterswing to prevent it.  He takes you to the ground, hard, and then your wrists are being pinned together above your head and your mask is being tugged down.
Din’s mouth on yours makes you want to cry.
The whole thing is like coming home.  You spent a week surrounded by strangers and having them call you by a name not given to you, fending for yourself, and now here he is.  Someone who knows who you really are, someone that wants to care for you.  Tears come to your eyes even as they're pressed tightly shut, and Din kisses you like he’s never known anything else.  His mouth fits to yours as if the Maker made your lips before ever considering the rest of you, his bare hand clutching your jaw and forcing you to open for him, letting him lick deep inside after going so many days without it.  It might feel dominant and overwhelming if it happened to any other person, but through it, you can also taste his desperation and weakness, how soft he is even when he’s squeezing your jaw and squishing your wrists together too tightly.
Rigid steel that bends only for your touch.
He pulls back and your heart throbs at how moonlight continues to bathe just the smallest glimpses of him under the hood—never the full thing, never the whole face, but enough.  The quiet light that brushes the arch of his nose, how it bathes the hard line of his jaw so that you can barely see his scruff when he turns his head the right way.  His eyes are hidden in near darkness but there’s the faintest glimmer where they should be, and it’s the closest you’ve ever been to looking at him without the helmet.  You can see him, you can see shadows of his chin, his neck—dear stars, his fucking neck.  You’re pinned and paralyzed under him and the ringing bells, yet you feel like you just might float if he wasn’t holding you so tight to the floor.
“Where’s the baby?”  You finally lift your chin and ask, needing to raise your voice over the melody clanging loud throughout the tower.
“Making friends,” Din pants back down at you, and… stars, then you just start giggling.  Adrenaline turning into pure joy, imagining the kid wreaking havoc with all the other babies in the nursery right now.  It feels more light and airy than anything your body should know.
“What are you so happy about?” He asks, swallowing and then continuing on with the same quick gasps.  “You lost, I caught you in time.”
“Did you?”  You drop your head to the brick floor and ask, biting your lip as he stares back down at you.  Suddenly—
—Bong—
Din holds utterly still over you while you take a quick breath and wait for the next eleven bells… 
…but then break into a slow grin up at him when nothing but utter silence follows.
There’s a moment.  Just a single moment where the cogs turn rapidly under that shadowy hood, one where the faint reflection of light in his eyes flickers down to the communicator on your wrist that says midnight and back to you, one that solidifies the longer it takes for another bell to ring.  It’s not going to.
One o’clock.
You think he puts it together.  The one moment he was never able to figure you out—when you tried reprogramming the comms just a few days ago.  The one trick up your sleeve that you resigned to throw away and almost forget about because the circumstances for pulling it off were never realistic.  Fuck with the electronics and set the clock back just one hour—all you’d need to do is reset his communicator, the timecode is synced together.  He told you before that it’s connected to his helmet, but all the buttons still work.  Rapid, panicky thinking and a wild surge of bravery in the face of certain downfall is the only reason you were able to pull it off, and you’re perfectly willing to admit you just got lucky… especially when he’s still holding dead still over you.
But then Din moves so suddenly.  You can’t account for it because there’s no build-up whatsoever—it’s so fast, you yelp while he grabs your knees and throws them both to one side.  You flop over sideways and large hands reach up under the draping length of your tunic to yank your pants down over the curve of your ass, before he’s fitting his palm up between your legs and pushing two thick fingers inside you.
Your head thunks back against brick with how unexpected and merciless it is, but his other hand is grabbing your jaw and twisting, forcing you to look up, stare right into the dark shadow under the loose cowl.  The whole thing is too overwhelming—you’re trying to keep quiet but your breathing feels like thunder crashing inside this tall, echoing chamber.  He’s touched you so many times, he knows exactly how to do it by now, but it feels like so much more than that.  Probably because you can see the way Din’s mouth silently falls open as he feels you, stretching his fingers up and hooking them tight inside.  You can tell when he closes his eyes, the smallest glint slowly disappearing into nothingness while the hand around your jaw blindly moves up.  It catches your chin and lips, and then two fingers push over the bottom edge of your teeth to slip into your mouth.
Your entire leg twitches and jerks while you lay sideways on the ground and open up for him, your neck twisted at a sharp angle to keep your eyes on him and his fingers in your mouth, giving you something to bite to stop making noise.  Din makes room for himself inside you two different ways, and you just choke on his fingers and try to stay quiet, praying he’ll go deeper.
But then you’re not expecting his whole fucking arm to start moving the way it does—oh fuck, what is that?  First you just feel jostled and displaced, but then suddenly a wicked, deep, burning pleasure starts to roar through you, radiating outwards from the rapid motion of just two fingers inside you.  It’s not in and out, it’s up and down so hard and quick against your g-spot that your eyes cross and your hands go numb.
You think you grab at him, clutch onto his arm or chest and open your mouth to moan at the new and overwhelming sensation, but his hand pushes up against your chin and closes it for you, the bend of his fingers caught hard between your teeth but you don’t think he cares.
“Quiet,” Din hisses the word down at you while his arm continues to work, your toes starting to curl as the feeling overwhelms you.  Fuck, what is happening, what is happening?  It’s like he’s just shoving unfamiliar sensation at you so forcefully that you can’t even think straight anymore, not even ten seconds in.  You can only feel the pleasure, fire blurring hot and shapeless through your entire body as your eyes clamp shut, his fingers isolating that perfect spot and stimulating it directly, relentlessly.
Something dull and white hot presses up tight against all the muscles you have down there and you’re almost afraid of how strong it is.  You gasp and choke and he has to take his fingers out of your mouth and just clamp down around your entire jaw, sealing the whole thing shut with his large hand.  And then Din’s fingers leave your pussy too—and stars, you should be embarrassed by how desperately it clamps around nothing for as long as it does.  He’s not even inside you anymore but your body is on such a delay from the hot, twisting pleasure, and he doesn’t put them back in until your muscles are finished spasming.
Everything comes back full force as soon as he starts moving again.  Noise starts to come from your throat, humming in your vocal cords to deal with the arcing, swirling build, and so Din just moves his hand there instead.  He finds where it’s vibrating from your neck and he pushes up against it, trapping the sound right at the source.  He’s fucking perfect at it for some reason… how many times must he have done this to know how to cut noise out without stopping airflow?  You clutch at his wrist and silently mouth his name, feeling his arm work between your legs—faster, faster, harder, pushing you higher, higher—
Din pulls his fingers out again and this time, one of your thighs suddenly feels warm and wet while you spasm and you hear him growl out a ragged, “Fuck yes.”  Everything is sparks zapping through you long after his touch is gone, you cry out but it’s all trapped under Din’s expert grip.  His fingers soon push back inside you and you dig your nails into his forearm, your sounds muffled and quiet enough to hear his raspy groan.  
“Let me see it again,” Din breathes, his arm starting to work up and down once more, and you don’t even know what he’s talking about anymore.  What does he want to see?  You losing your mind again?  Being reduced to an utter mess in front of his shadowy but unobstructed gaze just because you managed to pull one over on him?
Fucking… apparently.  It’s what happens, after all.  You’ve never seen him like this before; whenever he’s worked up and taking it out on you, there was always something in it for him, too.  He’d hammer into you and rock your world until his eventually shattered, and then you’d both lay exhausted afterwards, equally affected and satisfied.  This isn’t like that—this is just cruel, targeted retribution on his behalf, coaxing the molten pleasure out of you with his fingers and keeping his other hand locked around your throat.  You blink helplessly up at him, your vision starting to blur by the time he leans down to whisper to you.
“I missed you, sweet girl.  Did you miss me?”  It’s so soft and quiet compared to the strength and relentlessness of his movements.  You can’t speak even if you wanted to, but when he finally pulls away to yank his hand out and you feel all your muscles automatically flex outwards and push against the sudden emptiness inside you, his voice groans long and satisfied while your thighs get wet again  “Yeah you did,” he breathes, pushing your shaky legs to the brick with his hand and watching you struggle through the aftershocks.
Did you just cum?  You don’t even know, that’s how fucked up you are right now.  The whole thing felt like an orgasm from the very beginning, just a boiling hot tornado ripping through every single cell in your body, never really having a peak.  If you didn’t cum, then why do you feel so weak?  You feel heavy, your limbs don’t work properly, and you barely even register Din pulling at the fabric of his own robes until he fits himself up against your entrance.
When you do realize it, though… your body burns with it, wrecked already but wanting him to take what he wants from you.
“Oh, plea—” you gasp but you don’t even have enough time to get the full sentence out.  He’s already pushing his hips forward, pressing you tight into the ground and opening you up after what feels like a fucking eternity without him.  It’s the hottest, slickest welcome you could give him, you hear it in the whispered curse his lips brush up under your ear, the wet noises your body makes that get louder the longer you hold the moan in your throat and bury your head into his shoulder.  He throbs thick and perfect inside your tight, spasming cunt, stretching you and smacking the rough ground near your head with how fucking good it is to be back, finally, finally—
Your hands grab uselessly at his chest while you try to acclimate, try to breathe while you’re blind with sensation.  It’s so fitting for him, isn’t it?  That your reunion should be just as physically debilitating as it is mentally.  Din’s voice scrapes on a groan like he’s dragging it across the brick ground as quiet as he can, catching when you clamp down on him and shuddering when you clamp down harder.  That’s just it—you don’t ever loosen, you just keep tightening and tightening around him, threatening to break and cum again.
This feels different from before, though.  It’s deep, purposefully so.  His hand reaches up to push the fabric of your hood back, lifting himself up over your body and wanting to start as deep as he can.  You feel him in a place you’d never be able to reach and that’s just the beginning—that’s before he starts thrusting into you, hitting a dull sensation at the apex of each movement so hard that it becomes sharp.  His hips don’t make practically any sound smacking into you because they don’t really smack, they just rock downwards and fuck you into the floor without needing to pull out really at all.  You know he’s just trying to keep it as quiet as possible, but what he lacks in speed and agility he makes up in power.
You don’t even realize you’re making too much noise until a palm wraps tight around your mouth and the room gets a little emptier.  Din keeps you all to himself on the floor, silencing as much as he’s working you up, smothering as much as he’s freeing you.  There’s no easing up, no dragging it out, no gradual build or climb—it’s just there all of a sudden, pleasure and pain pummeling you all at once, engulfing you in flames.
You reach up to grab at the loose fabric of the hood over his face, catching a fistful of it before his hand suddenly snatches your shaky wrist and pins it back to the ground.
Maker, you forgot—oh, you completely forgot about how many people could find you right now if they ever decided to look in the right place.  You’re not in hyperspace; your body is rocking against rough brick, you’re probably going to have a lump on the back of your head from how terrible you are at trying to map out heaven while holding still.  He’s pinned down what he can with one hand; your fingers are the only things that can move besides how tight you can curl your toes, but you feel your moans turn into words against his palm.  They garble indistinctly and you’re not really even sure what you’re saying, but Din decides it’s worth hearing.
“Shh,” he whispers, slowly lifting his hand from your mouth.  “Shh, tell me—”
“W-wanna look,” you hear yourself whimper, trying your best to keep quiet but wanting to scream it while he fucks you hard and slow on the ground, “—I wanna see, I wanna look at you—”
“Fuck,” Din gasps, and though his grip tightens on your wrist and you know he can’t do it right this second, the words seem like they shatter something inside him, “Keep—oh fuck, please, k-keep saying…”
“I want to marry you,” you nearly whine for him, feeling his hips kick up rapidly and start hammering in and out, in and out, in and—“I want to see your face, I wanna be yours, I don’t want anyone else to know you the way I-I—”
You think he drops his head into your neck to muffle his own sounds.  Though they start out rough and quiet and indiscernible, but they gradually become louder as he repeats himself over and over again, growling and fucking you rough.  You only catch it on the peak, when he pulls his mouth away from your skin and gasps them raggedly one last time.
“—ve you—I l-love y—”
He kisses you to stop himself.  But it’s not really a kiss, it’s more desperate than that.  Though it’s beautiful, it’s beautiful in a different light.  It’s not rejoicing at having you back with him once again; it’s a last prayer begging you to stay by his side forever.  He loves you.  He gives it everything—it feels even more concrete and simple than taking the hood off him and revealing his face would.  You told you that you'd know him without ever seeing him, and you did.  You picked him out and found him when absolutely nothing was giving him away, and this feels like a manifestation of that.  Even if you’re not in a place where he can show you his face, his beautiful brown eyes, something still feels like it changes.  He loves you.  You gasp into his mouth and his tongue sinks deep into yours, tenacious and brave and unyielding.  
When you finally cum, you almost bite him on accident.  
Everything surges hot and molten while he pulls back and keeps fucking you through it, and you can’t tell where you’re touching him anymore, just that his skin is blazing hot under your hand and he feels like everything the armor isn’t.  He loves you.  You’re looking into his eyes right now.  You can’t see any of the details, not really, but the moonlight flickers like silent stars moving through dark depths, staring right back at you and giving you an anchor for the euphoria rocketing through you.  He loves you.  Your nails dig in sharp and slowly drag downwards, scratching hard red lines into whatever thick muscle that is—
The back of his neck, making his hips stutter and when he cums for you, he does bite.
You lift your head just in time to feel his teeth catch your chin instead of your mouth, and his entire body shakes while you keep dragging your nails down the side of his neck and his throat.  Din fucking lives for it, he releases you and arches into the pain and owns your marks like he wishes you made them deeper, stretching his neck and lifting his chin into the moonlight and—
Maker.  You can see it, with direct light, you can see more of it than ever before.  You can see his soft lips and white teeth gritting the sound of your name as quietly as he can, the dark facial hair dusting across the lower half of his face.  A fucking gorgeous jawline and throat extended long over you, flexing hard with his cock pulsing inside you.  You can just barely see the bottom of his nose from under the brown hood, the dark curls brushing up under his ears.
Stars, you still never see his eyes, the fabric of his hood acts like a blindfold draped over them, but you think you cum again.  Even if it’s on accident, it’s mean—Din tries to keep from squishing you and his hand pushes down hard against your lower tummy while he shoves his hips deep one last time, and you cum while staring at half of his face in the moonlight.  Completely lovestruck.
How can he be this beautiful when you’ve only seen fractions of him?  You have everything but the eyes now, everything but the most mysterious thing about him, the reflection into his deepest self, but you feel like you’re hypnotized by every single feature you do see.  His tongue coming out to wet his lips, the vein pulling under his sharp jaw—he’s gorgeous, he’s gorgeous, and your body agrees.  It shakes and shudders under him and eventually, Din finishes and you keep looking as his chin slowly lowers, face disappearing into the shadow once more.
Stars.  He’s so handsome and no one has ever told him, fucking dreamy and the biggest grump you’ve ever met.  Without being able to see him, you already want to reach your hands out and touch him, drag your nails through his scruff and force him to extend outwards into the moonlight again for you.  Whenever he does end up showing you his face, you know right fucking now that you’ll never be able to look away.  For the rest of your life, you’ll be staring at him, apologizing blankly for your rudeness but not feeling sorry at all.
Din leans down and gives you a slow, gentle kiss, finally relaxing into a slouch and breathing hard with the effort it took to shatter you with pleasure.
“The kid is with the other foundlings,” he whispers against your lips.  “You… you’ll have to go get him, I need to grab my armor.”
You squeeze around his cock, pulling at the fabric of his robes and ignoring him for just a second.  He fucked you in robes belonging to one of the guards and nobody has mentioned it, you need to say something.  “Where did you get this?”
“I found it,” he tells you after a moment, kissing up under your jaw.  Oh fucking Maker, he feels so good and perfect inside you, shoulders so broad and crowding you on the floor, and his lips are plush and hot, brushing and fitting your skin like it’s just an extension of his own.  “Some guy was wearing it.”
It takes you a second.
“Mando,” you suddenly gasp in quiet horror, pushing at his chest and trying your best to detach his mouth from your throat.  It’s so much more difficult than it needs to be, but you eventually succeed.  “What did you do to him?  Where is he?”
He lifts his neck up just the tiniest bit, turning his face towards yours under the hood and holding still for way too fucking long.  He’s too close to see the expression he’s making, but you know the tone of his silence.  He’s in trouble and he knows it before you do.
“Ma—”
“They’re in a closet,” he admits at the very same time, completely monotone.
You don’t know which word to emphasize.  A fucking closet?  They’re?  Plural?  Instead of stressing any particular word, you decide not to do it at all and it ends up just coming out in the same exact blank tone as him.  “They're in a closet.”
“Inside the Temple,” Din continues on when you lay still as a statue underneath him.  His head slowly dips down once more, pushing his hips against you just the slightest bit to make you remember the cock still inside you instead.  Your eyelashes flutter with it—fuck, focus—“I didn’t know there’d be more than two.”  He kisses your neck so gently.  “It was an accident.”
You don’t say anything at all, your mouth pinching down at the corners because it should but your heartbeat galloping with how… fucking sexy he is.  You shouldn’t encourage this, this horrible behavior just to get close enough to catch you, but your curiosity overtakes you and you ask a question you’ve asked yourself before.  “Did they put up a fight?”
“Mm,” he whispers noncommittally, rocking his hips down once more.  “You did.”  Your nails dig into his chest, making him falter just slightly before slowly kissing your neck again.  “Did so good.  Fought hard, outsmarted me.  Pretty fucking girl.”
And then your eyes pop open as you feel it.  His cock suddenly beginning to harden once again inside you, twitching and gradually gaining a thicker shape, and for a moment, you actually fucking consider it.  He’s the only one in this galaxy that could not only ruin you on these sacred grounds, but then coax you into doing it more than once—stars, are you actually considering it?
“We can’t,” you automatically tell him, but it’s fucking pitiful.  Zero effort, absolutely no umph behind it, leaving it entirely up to him and how much he wants it.  Your logic reminds you that the kid is probably wreaking havoc in the nursery and there are tied up guards in the fucking temple that could be discovered any second.  You shouldn’t have even let him fuck you here in the first place, but…  “Mando, we can’t—”
His mouth opens against the crook of your neck and his tongue brushes velvet hot on your skin, tasting the glistening sweat there and not moving his broad figure a single inch over you besides getting closer, deeper.  Your nails dig into his collarbone, aiming for reason one last time.  It’s apparent that you’d be better off rephrasing, knowing the challenging streak in him and how much telling him what to do doesn't help.
“It’s not a good idea,” you attempt instead, breathless and trying not to move under his mouth and lazy hips.  “Not smart.  Bad idea to fuck again.”
Din’s body stops moving, even though he keeps getting harder.  His jaw opens and then his teeth scrape softly against your flesh, making you tilt your neck back and gasp.
“Later,” he lifts his head to state aloud, committing it to truth now that it’s been spoken and heard by another person.  “Later, I’ll fuck you on the ship, in our bed, when I can get you naked and have your taste in my mouth.”
Tingles rock through your body and you squeeze around his cock just as he pulls it out and tucks it back into his pants.  Your lungs quiver when you inhale—it’s shaky, but it reminds you of how long it’s been since you’ve been able to breathe correctly.
“Later,” you finally agree, combing your fingers through your hair and glad you have this hood to cover your freshly fucked dishevelment.  He came inside you and you don’t want to be leaking and getting your nice pretty robes all wet and stained, but then of course, without any prompting, Din quickly scoots back on his knees and drops his head down to take care of it for you.
***
Commotion.
After Din helped you clean up the way he sometimes likes and then disappeared to change back into his armor, you put your mask and hood back on and tried to look as casual as possible walking to the nursery.  Your knees wobbled slightly and you couldn’t stop smiling under the mask the entire walk there, but when you arrived, you just saw a dim room with sleeping infants—not what you were expecting.  Soon, however, you hear it: down the hall, distant and coming from the dormitories, you hear a loud commotion.
Fuck, you’re nearly wincing with every step you take now, and not because you’re sore.  Well, you… are, a little bit, but in a great way.  No, you’re just dreading the ridiculous shinanigans you already know are well underway, wondering if Din actually dropped the kid off in the dorms from the beginning or if he somehow migrated his way there to cause trouble.
When you walk inside, the first thing you see is a handful of crying and shouting toddlers, and while you can’t immediately spot your favorite floppy-eared monster, you don’t have to see him to know he’s probably standing tiny directly in the middle of this tense showdown.  Automatically, you’re taking a few steps forward to rescue him, but then you stop as soon as you see what the other babies are so mad about.  A large piece of chocolate leftover from the festival levitating just beyond their pitiful little reaches.
Hm.  Who could possibly be responsible for using demon powers to steal snacks and hold them hostage from a sizeable group of hostile children.  A mystery that may never be solved.
It makes you take a second.  The sheer… the… stars, you can’t even think straight—how fucking typical it is just hits you right in the chest, sends your heart into orbit.  Of course.  Of course this is what he’s gotten himself into without immediate supervision, of course this is the shipwreck you’d walk into, and you’re holding back a chuckle before making a single move to intervene.  In the midst of everything, you can hear adults approaching distantly from behind you.
“—don’t know where it came from, I was helping the younglings into bed when I heard the ruckus and I—”
The voices gradually grow louder, and you snatch the floating piece of candy out of thin air and whip around right before Sister Drya and Naydee walk in.  Their hushed, concerned conversation is cut to an abrupt end, and you clear your throat as they take you in, standing in front of chaos central continuing to go off behind you.  Do you… look as freshly disheveled as you are?  You’re not supposed to be here, you know, but hopefully the only strange thing is your presence itself and not anything concerning your appearance.
“Nerida,” the older lady suddenly announces, the name alone holding so much expectation, and the younglings missing their candy have now turned their ire towards you and the crinkly food wrapper hidden in your fist.  “What is the meaning of this?”
“Ah, yeah,” you stand up a little straighter, letting the chocolate casually fall out of your grip behind you, and a stampede of feet suddenly kick up to recover it.  It’s fine, nobody will know, it’s fine.  “It’s just…”  Your head tips behind you to the cause of the uproar, feeling a bit sheepish yet so incredibly fond.  “My… kid.”
Sister Drya stares at you for a few seconds, before tipping sideways and staring at the culprit.  “That is your child?”
You turn around just in time to see him, now abandoned by the angry mob of children, finally notice you.  All of a sudden, his pitch black eyes light up something bright and sunshiney, and you just start beaming in return.  What an adorable little creature, apple of your eye and pain of your ass.
“Yep,” you sigh, dropping into a squat and watching him barrel towards you, catching him right before he can trip over his brown potato sack and scooping him up into your arms.  “Hiya, bug,” you murmur with a grin, lifting back up and plopping him in his favorite spot in the universe—your left hip.  “You making friends?”
He giggles and it’s like sparkles and bubbles fill the room instead, wrapping tiny arms around the largest surface area he can get and clinging.  He laughs with a tiny open mouth, bless him, clearly not understanding the sarcasm, and suddenly your eyes feel just the slightest bit wet.  No, you’re not crying, don’t be fucking ridiculous, but you missed him like hell and he’s just the cutest fucking thing—why do you feel like crying?
“Sorry about that,” you apologize to the two women while slowly turning around, brushing your thumb over one of his cheeks and smiling as it squishes.  “He’s… uh.  Not great at sharing.  We’ll work on it.”
Takes after his dad, you purposefully leave out, just a different kind of sharing.  Din hasn’t shown you his full face yet and the kid performs magic tricks to taunt a roomful of children a fraction of his age for a single piece of chocolate, completely different kind of sharing.
Sister Drya says something in response, but when you look up to address her, all you see is Din standing silently behind her and Naydee, slowly dropping his hand from his helmet to his side.  They don’t seem to notice he’s there and you automatically try your best to pay attention to the Sister speaking to you, but your eyes get caught on the silver reflecting in the dim light beyond.  Fuck, he’s a presence.  An immediate distraction, taking all your focus with a single glimpse.  Seeing him fully armored again, staring at you from the silent shadows behind everything… you melt a little bit, knowing that you’ve seen more of what’s underneath than anyone.  Your shoulders settle and your entire body burns warm, wobbly like the air around a fire, and one of the kid’s hands leaves you to reach out towards his dad.
You watch the metallic helmet tilt sideways after a moment, saying everything without saying anything.  Come on, make up an excuse, let’s get out of here.
Looking at him in the quiet shadows, you’re reminded once again about how much you love him, how much softness you have inside you for a man so hard, so guarded.  And, for the first time, a voice in your head finishes a poem you didn’t realize you were writing, adding its own verse and bringing everything back around to the beginning.  He loves you, too.  How much he lets his guard down for you, the way he’s revealed more of his face to you than not.  You love each other.  You’re family.
So, all at once, you decide to mess with him, because that’s what family does best.
“Don’t be shy, come say hello,” you suddenly urge his silent figure, taking a step forward and speaking directly to him.  “Sister Drya, Naydee, I’d like to introduce you to my—”
It’s remarkable, you see it happen in front of you.  Like he has powers of his own, Din just literally fucking disappears.  Like magic, he’s nowhere to be found within a blink of an eye.  You know he’s capable of it; he’s done it plenty of times during the chase just to fuck with your head, but you’re staring straight at him when it happens this time and it might just be the funniest fucking thing you’ve ever seen him do.
Sister Drya and Naydee both turn around to an empty hallway bathed in shadows and you laugh.  A deep, shameless, loud belly laugh.  Where the fuck did he go so quick?  You were staring straight at him and you have no fucking clue.  He’s just out, and you’re left alone with his child and the unspoken understanding that he’ll just catch up with you later.
You’re giggling even as you shake your head and give the women your genuine thanks for keeping you and feeding you these past few days, grabbing your backpack with all your belongings and eventually using three green fingers to wave goodbye to them.  The very first thing Din says when he seamlessly joins you outside the Keja later is, “That wasn’t funny,” which just makes you laugh harder.
***
About a half hour has passed, and you’re walking along a dirt road, cradling a very happy baby in your arms and giving the grown man next to you an incredibly hard time.
“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, your back twinging slightly at the way you’re leaning about as sideways as you can get without falling over.  You think you’re basically just the hypotenuse between the ground and Din, who easily supports almost your entire weight with your backpack slung around his far shoulder and readily allows you to rest against him.
“They’re fine,” he grumbles in response, squeezing you tight to his side.  You just have to focus on moving your feet; it’s like he’s practically carrying your upper-half anyways.  “I gave them the night off.”
“You stuffed them in a closet,” you hiss, feeling his shoulder shrug under your cheek.
“I gave them the robe back,” he says, not really defending himself and more just throwing it out there to see if it helps any.  “I’m sure someone’s found them by now, they’re fine.”
Your eyes suddenly go wide, absolutely mortified at the thought.  “Wait.  What do you mean you gave the robe back?”
He shrugs once more, apparently not seeing the problem yet.  “I borrowed it, so I gave it back after I put my armor back on.”
If you could plant your feet on the dirt road and screech to a halt, you would, but all your weight is already resting on him and you’re working solely off his forward movement.  You just hope your tone holds the same amount of shocked disapproval your body language would’ve conveyed if you weren’t so completely attached to his hip like a parasite he adores.
“You fucked me wearing it, though.”  Your voice is strangely flat, so fucking confused and horrified by the mental image of him just tossing the soiled garments haphazardly somewhere in the temple behind you, or even worse, leaving them somewhere respectful, and Din soon stops in the middle of the deserted road.
“Oh,” is all he says, emotionless and blank through the modulator.  Did he not even consider this?
“I had to promise them I was a virgin just to sleep there, you know,” you admit, and you can tell that’s brand new information to him with how still he goes as you continue to lean against him.  You’re getting the feeling that he probably knows a lot more about your experiences on this moon than you think he does, but can tell that this is brand new information to him.  “And you locked three of their holy men in a closet, chased me across the temple grounds, fucked me in one of their robes, and then.  You gave it.  Back.”
Din stays perfectly silent for quite some time.  You can never go back to that place, you know this for a fact.  You’re banned forever now, it’s what you deserve.
Never one to be outdone but not actually having anything to say for himself, Din suddenly decides to just scoop you into his arms and boost up into the sky without a single word like an actual fucking maniac.
You squeal and damn near drop the baby because of it, but he cinches you tight to his chest and refuses to loosen with your struggle.  Eventually, after you realize he’s completely locked you in and you won’t fall to your death with this poor innocent child in your arms, you glance over the shiny pauldron on his shoulder and watch the kid’s crib disappear by the abandoned road as Din takes you higher and higher.
The crib—he forgot the crib—
“D-Din,” you stammer out through the whistling air, stiff as a board.  Stars, you have such a different sense of adventure than him; an explorer and a daredevil, one who gets a thrill from discovering the existence of the edge of a cliff and one who’ll take a running dive off of it without thinking twice.  He’s hit with blaster fire some days, he faces down death completely fearless like it owes him one every single time, and you’re stiff as a fucking board while he carries you through the sky.  It’s stunning up here, it’s exciting and wonderful, but you’re so scared that you can barely even look.  He’s giving you the most fantastical view, everything your budding adventurous streak could ever ask for, and your terror is crushing.  It would be different if you could hold on, but you’re responsible for not letting the baby slip through your arms and you just have to trust that he won’t let you slip through his.
You raise your voice.  “Din?!”
“I won’t drop you,” he automatically reassures, and well you sure as fuck hope not, but there’s something else.
“What about the crib?”  You call out over the wind whipping, tucking the baby tight to your chest and settling your hands over his ears to avoid them flapping and whacking you repeatedly in the chin.
“We’ll come back for it,” he responds, just as easily.  Maker, you wish decision-making came that easy to you, that commitment and choice should be so simple as to just fly away from things on the ground and promise out loud to come back for them.  You know he will, but still, his spontaneity shocks you after spending the past week thinking every decision through meticulously, and you’re taken aback by the casualness of it all while soaring through the sky, committing such spectacular feats without a single thought beyond it.
Soon—incredibly soon, which honestly kind of blows your mind—you spot Nariss glowing in the distance and then you’re flying overtop of the city, slowly dropping altitude in the middle of a quiet little side street.
Din carefully allows your feet to settle on the ground before letting go, but you still stumble a bit stupidly after flying so high without any sort of safety measure besides him, prioritizing the steadiness of the baby in your arms instead of your feet underneath you.  His gloves catch at your clumsy body and pull you along with him without another word, leading you out of the quiet alley and into the middle of a beautiful, luminescent street.
What’s he doing?  He seems slightly hurried, and you’re clueless but you go with it, clamoring along behind him to wherever he’s leading you.
Though, you suddenly remember one of the very last things you told him last night right before he steps up in front of a vendor.
“Caf,” Din grunts, sliding a few credits towards the man standing behind the counter. “The… biggest one you have.”
Okay, well.  You could just about fucking cry.
“Y’sure?” The vendor asks skeptically, jerking his head at the large thermos behind him.  He’s balding, wearing a white outfit with his eyes scrunched up and forehead sweaty, likely working all day.  “It ain’t fresh.  Closin’ up soon, was just about to trash it and go home.”
The helmet turns to gauge your response to the news, the sharp angles and contours looking so sleek and dangerous as they reflect the colorful lamplights, but just filling you with comfort beyond anything in the entire galaxy.  He’ll take that armor off for you tonight and you’ll sleep next to him.  He’ll call you by your given name, or the fond name he’s given you, and you’ll cuddle your baby on a metal floor in hyperspace with him, and all will be well.  Even if he needs to leave again soon—even if you don’t get to go with him, you’ll always have these small eternities with each other, and that’s more enough for you now.
You’re completely zoned out while staring at him, and Din turns back to the vendor before you can even remember the conflict he was attempting to defer to you.
“Yeah, just empty the whole thing in there for her,” he mutters, and you want to marry him.  It’s been a long week, and in your haze and delight of being with him in this gorgeous setting, your brain turns to cavewoman mush.  Big man, makes me happy.  Strong man, loves me, knows me.  Provider, makes me feel good, protector, loves me.
Din hands you the large cup of steaming caffeine, clueless to your grunted inner monologue but knowing better than to reach out and grab the kid from your other arm.  You’re just fine like this, hands full, the little frog snuggled up against your side and blinking up at your face instead of any of the shiny or glowing things around you.  When you look down at him, you can see the world through his eyes—quite literally, they’re reflective and gigantic—and his father’s hand quickly finds its preferred spot on your lower back.
“Try to drink it quick,” Din advises you gruffly, pulling you snug into his side and sloshing the big cupful of piping hot liquid in your hand.
“It’s a thousand degrees,” you protest, trying to balance your three favorite things in the universe all begging for your direct attention at once.  “It has to cool down.”
He gives a dismissive hm in response, and you frown even as your heart soars with how tightly he’s gripping you, how little leeway you have to even move without him.  Part of you is so thrilled at being reunited with him that you consider snarking something back at him, excitement making you brave.  He could probably chug boiling hot liquid in thirty seconds and doesn’t see the point in letting it sit any longer, and you could make some stupid joke about filtering it through his helmet or having a built in bendy straw but you decide to keep it to yourself.
So then you just stand there together, under stringed lights and flowers everywhere, and he waits.  Holding you glued to his side, completely silent and clearly just waiting for your caf to stop steaming so threateningly in your hand so you can drink it.  For some reason, the fact that he’s wanted by the New Republic doesn’t really register at this second—you’re not looking for cops, though he may be.  You’re just lost in this beautiful, fancy city that’s on the edge of finally quieting down after a long day, and you’d like to see more of it with him next to you.
“Well, do you wanna just…”  You ask, tilting your head around at all the vendors.  “Shop around for a bit?”
“Shop… around,” Din repeats slowly, sounding the words out like they’re not common Basic.  Admittedly, they do sit a bit awkward in his voice when put together like that, describing a phenomena he’s likely never even considered a thing before, but it’s so fucking pretty here and you’d like to show him something this time instead of the other way around.
“Yeah, like,” you shrug a shoulder, tipping your head in a random direction.  Anywhere, you’ll go literally anywhere with him, the three of you can go explore.  “Just wander around, and look at all the pretty things.”
From where you’re standing right now, you can already see glittering crystals and jewels being sold at the tent across the street, there’s a booth dedicated entirely to floral arrangements and crowns next to it, you can hear a distant quartet playing melodically in the distance and a couple is being painted by an artist on the corner.  Bars are in full swing at this point, as if they weren’t all day, and even though the merchandise is all different, the multicolored tents look slightly similar when they’re underlit with multicolored lights.  It’s less slightly lively than it was in the daytime, but also… more beautiful, in a sense.  Muted, softer, more romantic.
“I don’t have any more credits,” Din admits casually, finally turning to look around at everything.  You get the feeling that he’s just now seeing it, even after spending the entire day here.  “That stale caf was the last of it.”
Money well fucking spent, you can assure him of that.
“It’s okay,” you tell him automatically, gently bumping your hip into his.  “We don’t need credits, we can just look.”
So that’s what you do.  Even though it’s completely not his fucking style, for the next hour or so, you just walk around downtown with him and sip your caf, looking at anything and everything new and experiencing it with him.  At first, you think he’s just entertaining you, following you while you discover new streets and attractions, but then he points out different things and you know he's looking, too.  There are large animals harnessed up and pulling carts for people to ride, there's an enormous spinning wheel set up in the distance, its colorful lights flickering out as soon as you ask what the fuck that is and why anyone would ever get inside one.
You eventually end up finishing your caf around the time he’s leading you back through a quiet, abandoned alleyway, and you hand him the empty cup to throw away in one of the trash cans on the corner.  The conversation has faded to a comfortable quiet and you don’t really need to ask—you go willingly, not requiring anything beyond his hands on you and the baby dozing in your arms.
“Come on, sweet girl,” he murmurs, gently sweeping you up into his.  You sigh, glad he’s giving you a moment to prepare yourself this time, holding the sleeping kid securely to your chest and resting your head on his shoulder.  “Let’s go home.”
After you’re comfortable, Din rockets up from the ground and climbs high up into the canvas sky.  He disappears with you and the baby into the pastel clouds above, making it back to the Razor Crest in probably about an hour, maybe less.  You and the baby do nothing more than climb into the comfy floor blankets while Din starts up the engines, and you think you’re dozing off together by the time he makes the pit stop to collect the crib and the jump into hyperspace.
You think he might shower?  You’re not sure—you just know he moves up behind you in bed at one point without any armor, burying his face in your hair while you cuddle the sleepy kid to your chest.  It’s dark in the hull, Din’s palms are bare and warm as they slide around the front of your body and he breathes you in, and there isn’t a single place that can touch you here, not a single place you’d rather be.
Home.
***
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@followwhereshegoes​ Thank you for the stunning artwork! 💕To anyone interested in possibly doing an art collab in the future, please message me!!
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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭 ~ 𝐇.𝐋 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
Based off the prompt:   “𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭. 𝐖𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬.”
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7K
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Swearing
𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: Family always came first to you. That’s why you moved to Tokyo with your baby brother despite being miserable every single day, until you met him.
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If NYC was the city that never slept then Tokyo was it’s younger sibling who was constantly trying to outdo the elder child. You ignored your younger brother who sat beside you in the taxi, leaning your head against the window and admiring the bright neon lights that stood out against the black of the sky.
No stars were visible, and the noise of the city was audible from inside the taxi, grinding against your ears. You hated it.
“Y/n.” You yanked my head from the cool glass of the window, leaving it foggy in your absence as Sean gently called your name. “We’re here.”
It was then you noticed the taxi had come to a stop, in front of a small looking building.
“This is it?” You asked, only getting a nod and sigh in response as the two of you exited the small vehicle, him sighing loudly as he picked up the bags.
You approached the door and knocked, waiting impatiently as the city air bit and nipped at your rosy red cheeks and nose.
It opened, revealing the man you recognized to be your father. You took a step back, turning the volume of the music in your ears up and letting Sean do the talking. You observed as their mouths moved, and the door closed on the two of you, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion before relaxing as it opened again.
This time he was fully clothed and a woman quickly scurried out from behind him, not giving any of you a second glance.
You pulled the earbud out, looking between your brother and father.
“Who was that?” You asked, following the two of them into the cramped building.
“A friend.” Your father responded sharply, before going over the ground rules and showing you to your rather small rooms.
The sleep was terrible that night. Unable to get comfortable on the thin mattress, and longing to be back at home in America. After all, you weren’t the child who had screwed up.
                                                  【~~~】
It took about three days for the reality of the situation you were in to settle in.
You were living in Tokyo. And you wouldn’t be returning home any time soon.
It was quite a rude shock when it finally hit you, and that’s when the tears every night started to pay visits.
You sure as hell weren’t the one who had fucked up, destroying not one but two cars, illegally racing and crashing through the frame of a house waiting to be built. No, that was Sean. But as usual you also had to pay for his mistakes and so off to Tokyo you went with him, leaving behind your friends, your family and your car.
It wasn’t like your mother was expecting you to live here forever with Sean. After all you were almost nineteen and very much so capable of making your own decisions.
She had wanted you to go with him for the first month though, not wanting him to be completely alone with no one but your father there for him, and by painting it out to be some exotic holiday she had convinced you to tag along.
It was a mistake.
Sean had started coming home later and later every night, adjusting well to life in the city. You on the other hand, had absolutely no friends, and despised your days with every fiber of your being. You had begun marking days off your calendar, counting down eagerly for the month to be over and for you to return home.
“I hate it here.” You shoveled food into your mouth, standing with your back against the counter of the kitchen as Sean absentmindedly filled a glass of water. “Why did I choose to come with you?”
“How would I know?.” He mumbled under his breath, pulling his phone out of his pocket as it buzzed.
“You know if you hadn’t been so-”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He cut you off, rolling his eyes. “I get enough if that from Mom and Dad. Don’t need it from you too.”
His accent was far stronger than yours, and you mocked him, feeling defeated when he just rolled his eyes and turned back to his phone.
He read whatever was on the screen with a small smile on his face and nosily you leaned over, wanting to get a look.
“Fuck off.” He shoved your shoulder, still smiling.
“What’s got you looking all happy?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.
He looked at you, a mischievous smile on his lips as you waited.
“How do you feel about going out tonight?”
                                                 【~~~】
Bodies crammed together in the parking garage, all surrounding the hundreds of cars parked in the lot. The immaculate paint jobs shined in the harsh neon lights, and most of them had their hoods up and their incredible engines on display, leaving your jaw on the ground every time.
You stuck close to Sean and Twinkie, feeling safer with your younger brother and his best friend. You felt intimidated by the gorgeous women who surrounded you, not that you were there to impress anyone. You were there for the cars.
The shitty 1990 Accord you had back in the states was nothing compared to the beasts that were parked in here.
You could feel vibrations in the ground, from the music and cars and it brought a small smile to your face as you walked through the swarm of people.
Sean’s eyes were scanning the crowd intently, clearly searching for someone.
He finally located who he was after and pulled you and Twinkie in the direction, his smile growing.
“There are some people I want you to meet.”
You were introduced to some faces you knew you wouldn’t remember, a gorgeous girl named Neela being one of the few you did.
You didn’t miss the way they looked at each other, or the way her boyfriend would possessively interrupt when you were talking to her, much to her dismay.
“And finally,” Sean said as you approached a man leaning back against his car, a small smirk on his face. “The one and only, Han.”
You flicked your eyes up to meet his, ignoring the way your breath slightly hitched in your throat.
He stuck his hand out to grasp yours, and you gripped it back with the same smirk he was wearing.
“Y/n.” You introduced yourself, not missing the way his eyes slowly traveled up and down your body. “I’m sorry about what my brother did to your car.”
His eyes returned to you, a smile on his face.
“It’s fine. Plenty of others sitting in that garage.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, his smile turning into a shy grin.
“Better keep Sean away from them then.” You teased, turning to your brother only to realize he had left.
You noticed him standing by Neela again, walking around her car while her boyfriend, Takashi, watched intently from afar.
“He’s in love. Has been since he saw her.” Han rolled his eyes, popping a chip into his mouth.
“Hard to see why he wouldn’t be.” You said. “She’s beautiful. Kind. Into cars.”
“And what about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are you kind? Into cars?” He asked, following your eyes to Sean and Neela.
“You forgot beautiful.” You said with a small laugh as you moved to stand next to him, leaning against the Mazda RX-7 behind you. You were praying to god it was his car, otherwise the lucky owner would probably get very, very pissed.
“Nah.” He turned his head and looked down at you. “Don’t need to ask you that to figure it out.”
A blush crept into your cheeks and you couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on your face.
“Well, usually when someone is kind they don’t run around telling others about it.” Your eyes met his again. “And I love cars.”
He grinned at you, and you turned your head to look back at Sean.
A part of you wanted to play hard to get, but the other part knew that even after only five seconds of talking to this man you were fucking done for and he knew that as well.
“And what about you?” You copied his earlier words, elaborating when you saw his confused face. “Are you kind? Into cars? Beautiful?”
“Beautiful?” He scoffed. “Sweetheart I’m a damn model.”
You let out a laugh, feeling yourself relax.
“I was kind enough to not beat your brother to death after he totaled my car.” Han joked. “And as for cars-” He gestured to the garage, full of stunning, high performance cars capable of stealing your heart in a matter of seconds. “-I probably wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like them.”
“Yeah I suppose that was obvious.” You let out a content sigh. This was the first time you had forgotten about your little countdown, and also the longest conversation you had had with someone who you weren’t related to.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, admiring the cars that surrounded you for a few minutes before he turned back to you again.
“What are you doing here Y/n?”
Your head turned to his, your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
“Oh come on, you think Sean doesn’t gush about his amazing older sister every chance he gets?” Han rolled his eyes at you like you were stupid.
“No. I find that very hard to believe.” You let out a small laugh. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”
“Sean told me that you were eighteen, turning nineteen in a few months time. No one is forcing you to be here, in Japan.” Han explained, his dark eyes staring into yours. “And yet here you are. Living in Tokyo, miserable, because your delinquent brother couldn’t stay out of trouble in the states. Why?”
Your mouth opened, then closed, then fell open again. You turned your head away from the piercing dark eyes and glanced at your brother.
“Because that guy who destroyed your car is my baby brother. He’s the closest family I’ve got.” You watched Sean as he spoke to Neela, hearts in his eyes. “Family stick together Han. I couldn’t let him just up and leave to a brand new country, with no one but our father there for him.”
Han watched the way you spoke, feeling a warmth across his chest.
“It’s my job to protect him and be there for him, and I don’t care if I’m miserable the whole time I’m doing it. I’m going to be there.”
His jaw almost dropped as your words hit him like bricks.
“You know,” He started. “You remind me of someone I used to go way back with.”
You scoffed light-heartedly.
“How old are you?”
He just grinned. “Too old for you.”
“Well luckily for you, my age is too young for me.” You said. Despite your tone being confident your body was completely betraying you, bracing itself for rejection.
Instead he just laughed and ran a hand through his hair.
Both of your heads snapped to the right as someone called his name, and you felt your heart fall when you realized that he was probably going to leave.
He sent a quick wave to the person who called out and pushed himself off the Mazda, gazing down at you.
“You know,” He started, a shy smile creeping onto his face. “If you ever get bored during the day you should come by the garage. I think I could make it worth your time.”
You let out a small laugh.
“We’ll see.”
                                                【~~~】
“You made friends pretty fast.” Sean said teasingly as you entered the kitchen, your hair sticking up in all kinds of directions.
“Yeah and so did you apparently.” You sent a sarcastic smile back in his direction. “Pity she’s taken.”
The smile on his face dropped instantly and he went back to his breakfast, ignoring you.
After a few minutes of silence between the two of you he spoke up again.
“So are you gonna?”
You looked up from your phone and coffee, furrowing your brows.
“Am I gonna what?”
“Swing by Han’s garage?” He had a knowing smirk on his face. “He told me all about your little conversation.”
You just shrugged casually, not wanting to let him know how you really felt inside.
“Maybe, if I have the time.”
“All you have here is time.” He scoffed. “All you’ve done for the past few days is buy food, eat it, then sleep. You may as well.”
You let out a sigh and finished what was left of your drink.
“Yeah, and for your information Sean, it’s been great.”
“You know you wanna Y/n.” He teased, a grin on his face.
“How about this,” You started. “Let me know next time you head over there. Maybe I’ll tag along.”
“Sounds good to me.” Sean said. “Especially given that I’ll be there tonight.”
Your cool demeanor dropped and your eyes widened.
“Tonight?”
“That’s what I said.” He grinned. “I’ll be sure to let him know he can look forward to seeing you there with me.”
“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” You whispered under your breath.
He just shrugged his shoulders.
“You’d be doing me a favor if it meant I’d never have to see your gross face again.”
“What are you? Five?” You asked.
“I’d say that’s about right.”
You just scoffed at him, heading back to your room.
Not that you’d ever admit it to Sean, but you were glad that he’d be heading over to the garage tonight.
You would definitely rather die than tell him that though.
                                               【~~~】
You shut the car door behind you and stepped out into the cool evening air.
Sean had come by to pick you up after he had finished school, and you had been anxiously waiting all day.
Now you were finally here, and still very, very anxious.
“This doesn’t look like a garage to me.” You furrowed your brows, looking out at the water.
“That’s because it’s in there.” Sean pointed to the large brick building. “We’re gonna stay out the front, this is where Han’s been teaching me how to drift.”
“Oh.” You managed to get out, following your baby brother to a group of people who were all sitting down by stacks of tires.
All four faces were familiar, but you only remembered the names of two of them.
“Y/n.” Han greeted you, nodding his head with a smile as he casually held the bottle in his hand.
“Hi.” You smiled back at him, your nerves starting to melt away.
Sean gestured to the empty seat beside Han, and you took it.
The others tossed you friendly smiles which you returned, and Han looked up at Sean.
“Go get your sister a drink.” He said.
Sean did as he was asked, reaching into the cooler that had been brought along and handing you a bottle of something.
“Are you gonna have one?” You asked your brother as you opened it and took a small sip.
“Can’t drink and drive now, can I?” He smirked, digging his keys out of his pocket and heading back towards the Evo.
“Well that’s a first.” You scoffed, and you heard Han let out a small laugh beside you.
“I’m guessing the cowboy doesn’t wanna fuck up another one of Han’s cars.” Twinkie said, watching Sean as his climbed into the car and started it.
You looked over at Han.
“That’s your car?”
“Yep.” He nodded proudly, watching Sean as he started his usual route around the dock.
“How many more have you got hiding in that garage of yours?” You asked with a small laugh.
“You’ll have to come see for yourself.” He shrugged.
“Maybe.” You shrugged as well, missing the way Twinkie and the others looked back and forth at each other.
“You know,” Han started. “If you haven’t got any other plans tonight, I could take you out for a drive, grab some food. Maybe come back to the garage when everyone’s gone.” He said the last part quietly enough for only you to hear.
You looked over to Sean in the car, able to make out his face of concentration despite how far away you were from him. He wouldn’t miss you for one night.
“When do we leave?” You asked with a smile.
He grinned with a surprised laugh, and you could tell he had been expecting you to say no.
“Now, if that works for you.”
You looked back at Sean, wincing at the sound of the tires screaming against the road.
“Sounds good.”
                                              【~~~】
The two of you had ended up getting cheap food from a side-of-the-road vendor, eating in silence in the car before making small talk about everything, from your life back in America to what kind of animals you thought you could take on in a fight.
You were laughing when you stumbled out of the RX-7 and into the cool night air, following Han into the garage which wasn’t that much warmer.
You didn’t know what you had expected when you walked into the garage, but it definitely wasn’t what you saw.
Han gestured for you to follow him up some stairs to an open second story, furnished with a small kitchen, table and chair, and living area.
“Wow.” You mumbled under your breath, realizing he must have some serious money to be able to afford all of this. Not to mention the cars in there, some of which cost more than your house, car and life savings combined.
“It’s my pride and joy.” He pointed towards the sofa, and you took a seat, sinking in to the plush material as he opened the fridge and called out to you. “You want a drink?”
“Yeah thanks.” You smiled, and he pulled out two of the same bottles you had been drinking from earlier.
He took a seat beside you, on the opposite edge of the relatively small sofa, and the two of you sat in silence for a moment, reflecting on your night, before you spoke up.
“Thank you.” You said quietly, and he looked at you in confusion. “For what you’re doing for Sean, I mean.”
“It’s not a problem.” He brushed it off. “He’s a good kid, the kinda person I want to be around.”
You let out a scoff.
“Well I wouldn’t go that far.”
He chuckled at you.
“Thank you.” He said, and this time it was your turn to be confused. “You might not realize it. but coming out here with Sean has made it so much easier for him. He probably won’t ever tell you, but he’s grateful as hell and crazy lucky to have you in his life.”
A small blush crept up onto your cheeks, and you almost didn’t notice as he crept closer towards you. Almost.
“Yeah well he’s also crazy lucky to have met you.” You said quietly, your eyes meeting his as the two of you drew closer and closer. “I am too.” You whispered.
“And why’s that?” He asked, his tone matching yours, and you swore the room got hotter by about twenty degrees.
“You’re kind,” You started, remembering back to last night when you met him. “Into cars.” You continued, and he nodded along, agreeing with you.
“You forgot beautiful.” He whispered, just inches from your face now, and you smiled cheekily.
“You’re a damn model sweetheart.”
He grinned, his eyes flicking down to your lips briefly and before you could realize what was happening his lips were on yours.
Your hands instinctively went to his hair, pulling him closer to you as you laid down flat on your back, feeling his hands roam up and down your body.
You felt butterflies erupt in your chest as your hands wandered from the back of his head, and so did your mind.
Sean’s face flashed in your mind and you inhaled sharply, pushing Han off of you and sitting up, breathing heavily.
“Shit.” You hissed, moving to the edge of the sofa and holding your head in your hands. “Shit, shit, shit.”
“What? What’s wrong?” Han asked, also breathing heavily. His tone sounded confused, and guilt racked through your body. “I’m sorry.” His voice changed to apologetic. “I thought you wanted to.”
“I do.” You whined. “I want to, but I can’t. We can’t do this.”
“Why not?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh.
“Sean.” You turned to look him in the eyes, and his face dropped.
“Shit.” He said.
“Shit.” You agreed.
The two of you sat in silence, still trying to catch your breaths, and trying to think of a way to fix the now incredibly awkward situation.
“I think I should leave.” You said, pushing yourself up off the sofa.
“Y/n don’t go.” Han protested. “It’s the middle of the night and you’ve been drinking. Neither of us can drive and I’m not going to let you walk home or get into a taxi with some creep.”
You let out a sigh, not letting him see how the fact that he cared that much made you all warm and fuzzy inside, or how the fact that it made you all warm and fuzzy inside made you want to gag.
“What do I do then?” You asked.
“Take my bed.” He nodded towards a door that you were assuming led to his bedroom. “I’ll take the sofa.”
“No way.” You protested. “This is your home Han, you aren’t sleeping on that tiny ass sofa. I can, it’s no problem.”
His eyes looked like he wanted to argue, but he kept his mouth shut.
“Ok. I’ll go grab you some blankets.”
“Thanks.” You smiled, laying down on the sofa.
It was undeniably comfortable, and you let your eyes close before Han returned, vaguely feeling him place a thick blanket over the top of you before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, leaving you with butterflies.
Your mind started to slip out of consciousness, and you let it, forgetting about how you were sleeping in Han’s garage, and planning on being out of there before he woke up the next morning.
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Just a fun little something that took me about a week to finish writing! Hope you like it and requests are most certainly open <3
If anyone would like to be on the tag list for part 2, please let me know!
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guardianofrivendell · 4 years
Text
A Royal Tease
Thorin x fem!reader
Requested: kind of - this was a favor to a very special person! 
Warnings:  NSFW with an E rating, so please only read if you’re 18+! 
A/N: Wowee... that was a ride! Writing smut is definitely NOT the same as reading it :) Let me know how I did it and if I should write more smut in the future. I still feel like it jumps from here to there sometimes, but the longer I worked on it, the worse it got so I decided to stop editing and throw it on here 🙈
Before you start reading, another friendly reminder that English is NOT my first language, so if some sentences feel forced or the vocabulary feels too simple or not descriptive enough, that’s why! 
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Thorin was lying on his back in the sand, eyes closed and panting heavily. 
“Another one!” he growled after a few seconds.  “Are you sure you can take another one? Married life sure is taking a toll on ya!” Dwalin teased, getting in his starting position again. He rolled his muscles and Thorin could hear his bones crack. Dwalin was enjoying this far too much. 
Thorin might be losing his touch, but Mahal be his witness, he would never admit defeat. He couldn’t give Dwalin the satisfaction. So he pushed himself back up while muttering a line of very colourful words, ready to smack that smirk of his best friend’s face.
These late night sparring sessions with Dwalin were a godsend to get rid of the tension and frustration in his body, but that didn’t mean he would let him off the hook so easily. 
Wiping the sweat of his brow with the back of his hand, he walked towards the opposite side of the training field.  His tunic clung to his body, dripping with sweat so Thorin decided to take it off. 
“What in Durin’s name are those?” Dwalin’s voice boomed across the field.
Thorin immediately held his tunic in front of him, as if he had been caught doing something that he shouldn’t. He completely forgot about them. 
“S’none of your business,” he muttered.
“As your personal guard it is my bloody business, Thorin,” Dwalin retorted, making his way towards his King. 
“Who gave ya those bruises?”
Thorin stared at his best friend and felt his cheeks flush. He could see Dwalin’s thoughts take a turn for the worst, blaming himself for his King’s injuries. But he couldn’t tell him the truth, could he?  
“You were not the one who caused them,” Thorin said in a tone that made it clear he wasn’t going to elaborate.
“Then who did?” he pressed on. 
“Leave it, Dwalin.”
But Dwalin was quicker and snatched the shirt out of his hands so the bruises were visible. 
“Thorin…”
Dwalin’s eyes traveled over the King’s bare chest. His pecs, abs and hips were covered in dark purple bruises, each one of them the size of a gold coin. His eyes landed on the waistband of Thorin’s breeches and it looked like the bruises didn’t stop there.
“I’m supposed to protect ya, Thorin. Who mistreated you like this?”
Thorin kept his eyes focused on Dwalin’s, as if he wanted to have a staring match. Dwalin could see the internal battle his King was fighting, before Thorin broke eye contact and turned around to put his tunic back on.
“They’re Y/N’s alright,” he hissed, without looking at him. 
Dwalin stood completely shocked for a few seconds, before he balled his fists and almost bristled in anger.
“Dam or not, she can’t treat ya that way, Thorin,” he said through clenched teeth. 
Thorin placed his hands on Dwalin’s shoulders to calm him down. 
“No, my friend. No, it’s not like that at all… They happened during…” Thorin took a deep breath and lowered his voice in case someone could overhear. “During our lovemaking.”
Dwalin’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes went wide.  But he didn’t back off like Thorin had expected. If any, it peaked his interest. 
“She hurts ya for… Pleasure?”
Dwalin’s nose scrunched up, like the thought of someone hurting their One for pleasure was the most ridiculous thing he ever heard. Which, in his humble opinion, it most certainly was.
“In her world what happens at night is a lot more... interesting, to give it a name. We’ve been missing out, Dwalin. You can trust me on that.”
“But she hurts ya?” he repeated. 
Thorin chuckled. “Believe me, it doesn’t hurt one bit. On the contrary...”
They started walking out of the training halls, their sparring session long forgotten. 
Thorin knew it might not be appropriate to discuss his love life so openly with his friend, but he was almost certain Y/N wouldn’t mind and he felt relieved he could finally talk to someone about it.
“You don’t know half the things she’s capable of, Dwalin… The way her hands feel when she… Mahal!” Thorin groaned at the memories of your late night activities. 
“Easy there, lad,” Dwalin chuckled. “Ya don’t want to ruin those trousers too, aye?”
Thorin shoved him in a playful jest, but the seasoned warrior didn’t even budge.  He shook his head, tutting at the poor attempt of his King. “Pathetic.”
While they were walking towards the Royal wing of the mountain, Thorin told his friend about some of the things he learned the last few weeks. 
Dwarrows were a bit old fashioned in the bedchambers, or ‘rather prude’ as Y/N had called it, and she helped him discover a different side of himself.
By the time Thorin had told Dwalin about the different positions he definitely should try besides the classic one, they’d reached the heavy double doors of Thorin’s chambers and Dwalin’s cheeks had turned a few shades darker. 
Dwalin halted and nodded at the guards posted at each side of the door. 
Thorin opened the door and the right corner of his lips twitched. He was still a bit agitated that he couldn’t beat his friend on the grounds but there was always another way to get the upper hand...
“Oh and Dwalin… They use their mouth too.”
“Well I may hope so, it’s hard to kiss without yer lips,” he said, not understanding what Thorin meant. 
“Not for kissing, Dwalin. Not only for kissing.”
Thorin closed the door, leaving a speechless and heavily flustered Dwalin in the hallway.
*
When he turned around with the intention of entering his chambers and relaxing for the night, someone forcefully pressed his back against the door and pulled his face down in a heated kiss. 
It only took him a fraction of a second to wrap his arms around his wife and happily return the kiss, not wasting any time with deepening it by swiping her bottom lip with his tongue.  He felt her smile against his lips and she broke the kiss. 
“Eager, are we?”
“I do recall it was you who couldn’t resist me, ghivashel, you didn’t even let me come in properly,” Thorin chuckled, keeping his arms tightly wrapped around her while he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. 
In the meantime, her hands started traveling on their own, making their way over his broad shoulders and upper arms, before finally settling on his chest. His tunic was still damp from his earlier activities and left nothing to the imagination. Not that she needed to imagine it, she knew exactly what he was hiding underneath. What was hers…
Y/N smiled. “I can’t greet my husband after a day’s hard work?”
She reached up and caught his lips in another kiss. Thorin hummed softly.
“Aye,” he said, his hands lingering on her back, but he couldn’t resist slowly lowering them towards the delicious curve of her buttocks. He gave them a firm squeeze and pulled her flush against his body. 
Y/N could feel someone else greeting her.  “Well hello to you both,” she smirked. 
Even though she knew Thorin was that kind of dwarf who gets easily aroused - which was incredibly fun during meetings and official visits - he still caught her off guard with how fast his soldier could report for duty. 
“We’re at your service, little one,” he said, lowering his voice. 
Licking her lips in anticipation, Y/N grabbed the hem of his tunic and lifted it upwards.  Thorin raised his arms and helped her get the tunic off his body, carelessly tossing it aside. His breathing growing heavy already with the adrenaline still in his body from the earlier workout. 
His trousers and undergarments were next, she tugged at the laces and let the fabric pool around his ankles. 
She took a few steps back and took the time to admire the view before her.  His silver and black hair screaming at her to get her hands in, so she could tug it just the way he liked it. The dark hair dusted across his broad chest, trailing down towards his V line and circling around his member. The bruises her lips left the night before stood out on his skin, proof of her claim on him.  Thorin was absolutely stunning. A work of art.
“Like what you see?” he hummed, his voice still a deep rumble, hitting her right in her core. Mahal, bless that voice! 
“Always,” she whispered.
When she turned around and started walking away from him, Thorin grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. 
“You’re not going to leave me like this, are you,” he growled. 
He knew she was capable of it, she’d done it before. There was nothing his wife liked more than teasing him and leaving him hanging for a while. According to her it was fun, she liked getting him all riled up, but for Thorin it was absolute torture. He wasn’t used to not getting things when he wanted them. 
“Easy tiger, I was just going to draw you a bath.”
*
Thorin sighed deeply when he reclined in the tub, the warm water soothing his aching muscles. 
“Feels good?” Y/N smiled, getting a washcloth ready. 
He nodded and hummed softly, closing his eyes. His nose filled with the scent of the burning wood from the fire and lavender from the bathwater, and combined with the warm temperature of the water it made him finally relax.
She sat down behind the bathtub and took the bottle of oil for his hair. Y/N brought the opened bottle close to her face, smelling the herbal fragrance. She inhaled it deeply, loving the smell because it reminded her of Thorin. Her husband. Her King. 
“I’ll start with your hair.”
She poured a little oil on her hands and rubbed them together to spread it evenly.  Her fingers purposefully moved around his scalp, working in small circular motions. He moaned when she added just the right amount of pressure to massage the oil in his hair and again when she started delivering gentle strokes around his ears and neck.  With a cup she poured hot water over his hair to rinse it. Thorin kept his eyes closed when she was finished, his body completely relaxed and at peace.
Seeing how he turned into mush under her skilled hands, made washing Thorin’s hair something Y/N loved to do. It was not her favorite part… no, that part came up next. 
She leaned over and pressed a kiss below his ear, and took the washcloth from the side of the tub. Carefully pouring some oil on it, she kneaded the cloth until it was properly soaked, before she let it glide over his chest. 
A smile played around her lips when Thorin groaned as soon as she started massaging his muscles with the cloth, washing away the tension in them. 
Her hands let the washcloth glide over the muscles in his arms, shoulders and legs, adding enough pressure to work the knots out, leaving no skin untouched.
Except the part where he needed her touch the most. 
Every time she came close, Thorin bit his lip in anticipation but she always changed direction or directed her attention elsewhere. He grew more and more desperate, she noticed. So far so good.  
“What were you and Dwalin talking about?” she asked, curious about the subject of their conversation.  
Thorin opened his eyes, but couldn’t meet hers. 
“Ah… yes. Well, I may have taken off my tunic during our sparring session tonight.”
Oh. So Dwalin got curious, she thought.  She abandoned the washcloth, letting it float around the water.
“I bet he had some questions about these?”
Her finger started trailing the contours of the bruises. First in a faster circular motion, but as she got closer to his hips she slowed her pace down and adjusted the pressure to nothing more than a feather-light touch. 
Thorin closed his eyes again and let his head fall back against the sloping side of the tub. His breath came quicker and when her eyes wandered down his stomach, she was pleased to notice his member was back at full attention again. When she let her finger linger near the tip, she could hear him hold his breath in anticipation. 
“What did you tell him?”
But Thorin didn’t give her an answer, too focused on her movements and ministrations. She was so close, just a little more to the left...
But instead of doing what he wanted her to do - and she knew he was desperate for it, her teasing and lingering touches had made him wild with desire - she changed direction again and traced the inside of his thigh and pelvic bone, purposefully ignoring his hard on. 
“Tease!” he groaned, clutching the edge of the tub in frustration. 
Y/N raised an eyebrow in question. “A tease? Me?”
She stood up, clutching her chest like she was actually shocked by his accusation.
“I would never,” she smirked, and Thorin loved the way her eyes twinkled with mischief. “You’re the one who doesn’t want to tell me what you told Dwalin.”
“I merely gave him some advice based on our experiences, ghivashel. I believe master Dwalin will keep his flushed cheeks for the remainder of the week. Serves him right.”
Satisfied with his answer, she turned to grab a towel, dropping it on a nearby chair for him to use later. 
“I’ll leave you to it then.” 
Her eyes lingered on his pulsing cock for a few seconds before she winked at him. “Don’t enjoy yourself too much.”
Before she could leave him, he called out to her.
“The least you can do is give me another kiss.”
Y/N smiled and leaned down to peck his nose. 
“No, a kiss worthy of a king,” he groaned. 
But when she leaned further down to press her lips on his, she missed how his eyes held the same twinkle hers did a few moments ago…
Before she knew it, Thorin had grabbed her by the waist and pulled her on top of him. Their movements made the water splash everywhere and Y/N shrieked when her dress got soaked with the bathwater. 
“Oakenshield,” she growled, pushing her off his chest with her hands and settling in his lap.
She enjoyed the lustful clouding of his eyes when she moved just the slightest, giving him the friction he longed for. 
“Always trying to get what you want,” she reprimanded him. 
“Can you blame me?”
His hands drifted admiringly over her body, following the curves of her bossom and hips. 
“Yes!”
He was taking over control and she had to stop it before she gave in. With some difficulty she managed to climb out of the tub and wrung the water out of the dress of her skirt, turning the bathroom floor in a small pond.  Seeing as Thorin made no move to get out of his bath or apologize, Y/N decided to take the teasing to a higher level. 
Keeping her back to her husband, she slowly unhooked the fastings of her dress and let it drop to the floor with a slap.  She heard the sharp intake of Thorin’s breath and the slosh of the water when he sat up. 
Oh, that’s right… Did she forget to mention she wasn’t wearing anything underneath? Oops…
He wasted no time in getting out of the bath, not even bothering to take a towel to dry himself. The only thing on his mind was to get to his wife as fast as possible. 
She whimpered when their bodies clashed together, the evidence of his arousal poking between her butt cheeks. His lips attacked her neck, and she was almost certain the firm grip of his fingers on her waist would leave bruises the next day. Not that she minded.   
He guided them into their bedroom, and when the back of her knees touched the bed frame, her mind cleared and she tutted at him. 
“Since when are you in charge, yâsûn?”
He cupped her breasts, softly kneading them and letting his thumbs flick over her nipples. He lowered his head to take one in his mouth, not stopping his caresses on the other one. 
Y/N sighed and let her head fall on her shoulder, her hand finding its way in his hair. His damned mouth...
“I don’t hear you complain,” he smirked.
She certainly didn’t complain when he slid one of his thick, calloused fingers between her folds, and Thorin moaned when he felt how slick she already was. 
“You’ve been enjoying your teasing,” he accused her. “All this for me?”
She grabbed his length and he hissed at the sudden contact. She stroked a few times to spread the precum, and when her thumb flicked the head it took all his strength not to come all over her hand right that minute. 
“I couldn’t stay behind with all this for me...” she smirked. 
With a growl he connected their lips again. His wife knew exactly which buttons to press and    he both loved and hated it. Without breaking the kiss, he grabbed her thighs and squeezed them, urging her to jump up. Y/N did as asked - which surprised Thorin - and locked her ankles behind his back to keep her balance. 
Not bothering to clear the furs from the bed, he laid her down on top of them, her hair sprawled out on the pillows. 
She bit her lip when she noticed how his eyes had darkened even further, Thorin looked like he could devour her any minute. She didn’t realise how close to the truth she was. Maybe he needed another round of teasing...
Before she could follow through with her plan, Thorin took the lead.
He flipped her on her stomach, grabbed her by the waist and pulled her onto him, all in one fluent move. It was a position they only did once before but he had already claimed it as his favorite. 
Knowing what he wanted, she placed her knees on either side of his hips and let her back rest against his front. The hairs on his chest rubbed deliciously against her soft skin and she had a hard time staying still. The muscles in his thighs and stomach were rock hard, just like her toy in between.  Y/N’s hand went up his hair and tugged it harshly when her clit came in contact with his cock.
“Are you ready for me, little one?”
His voice got even lower if that was possible, the words wrapping around her like a silky smooth blanket. If he kept talking like that, it would be over for her before they even began. 
“Thorin, please,” she begged.
“I thought you liked teasing?” he chuckled. 
She grabbed his member, guiding it to her entrance and lowered herself down in an attempt to shut him up, a desperate moan falling from her lips when their hips connected. Thorin tightened his grip on her. She felt absolutely divine. 
“Only when I’m the one doing it,” she gasped, enjoying the feeling of being stretched out. 
One of his arms slid around her stomach and settled between her legs, circling her clit with his thumb when he began to thrust upwards. 
They soon found a steady rhythm, and Y/N could feel her orgasm building quickly. 
No, too soon, she thought and she slowed down the pace, slapping his hand away from her clit.
She leaned forward, keeping her body up with her hands on the furs. The new angle made her feel every inch of him and a loud moan escaped her throat. 
This is what she had been craving the entire day. 
She raised her hips until only his tip was inside of her and then lowered herself down, agonizingly slow. 
“You’re such a good girl for me. Mahal, keep going, do not stop!”
She loved it when he got vocal, and with each curse and praise he murmured, she felt herself getting closer to her release. 
Thorin noticed her change in breathing and pitch of her moans and sped up the pace. 
This was all feeling too good and with the help of his encouragements she came undone, clutching the furs until her knuckles turned white.
He cursed heavily when she clamped down on him, but did his best to help her ride out her high. He kissed her neck and stilled his movements to give her a break, only resuming them when she nodded that she was okay. 
As he began to thrust even harder and faster, Thorin gathered her hair in one hand to keep her in place, his other hand firmly on her waist while he chased his own release. His moans became increasingly louder, less controlled with each thrust and a curse escaped his lips.
“You feel too good, ghivashel, m’not going to last,” he hissed through clenched teeth. 
He came with a shout and a cutoff curse but kept thrusting in and out of her until he felt himself soften. When he finally pulled out, he covered her back in kisses.
Y/N laid down on the bed and opened her arms for him to cuddle. Both their bodies were covered in a thin layer of sweat, and it took them a while to catch their breath. 
These were the moments when she felt the safest. In his arms, in the after bliss of their lovemaking, listening to the soft and even breathing of her husband. She kissed his head and trailed the muscles of his upper back with her finger, earning her a content sigh from Thorin. 
A chuckle escaped her throat and he looked up at her questioningly.
“Now you have something new to tell Dwalin,” she said with a wink. 
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randominagines · 3 years
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Hi! Can I have a fluffy (and sorta angsty?) request where skaikru is forced to choose a member of their group to enter an arranged marriage with a grounder for an alliance (as it is their custom) and out of outrage and pettiness over clarke letting them kill finn (totally forgot his name for a second lol), raven offers to marry the (fem!)reader so she could get away from clarke and the constant reminder of her first loves death, not ever expecting to fall for the reader... and bring more than an alliance to their people but peace, as well (the clans having seen the two most important and valuable people of their kind come together, in more than an arrangement, making them do the same). Did this make sense?? Thanks in advance xx
Bonus (optional): Reader being an important member coz shes either a strong warrior/general or lexa's sister or both. Sorry if this was too long.
Thanks for the request!
Pairing: Raven Reyes X Fem!reader
Warning: angst, sorta smut, fluff
GIFs belong to their creators.
MARRYING RAVEN TO CREATE AN ALLIANCE WOULD INCLUDE:
In the moment she offered to marry you, you were nothing but shocked;
Being very close to Lexa, as her sister, you learnt to know some of the people from Skykru;
Raven is definitely beautiful and extremely smart, but you knew she had feelings for that boy, so you never expected her to offer;
You're low key happy, anyway. You always thought she was awesome;
Once the marriage is decided you have two months to organise it, and you get to know her better;
She surely is heartbroken and you can't help yourself but emphasize with her;
She is a very passionate person, also in the way she perceives bad feelings;
She tends to show herself as strong and unbreakable, but you learn to read her body language and to recognise her fragilities;
At the begging, she mostly pushes you away;
In time, once she sees how patient and lovely you are with her, she slowly stars opening up to you;
The fact that she lets you in makes you more than happy;
You really start caring about her;
And she starts caring about you too;
She realizes that you're the person who understands her better and finds peace in your comfort;
"I'm sorry, I still miss him..."
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She apologies to you;
"It's okay, Rav, don't feel guilty about this."
As the wedding approaches, feelings start blossoming between the two of you;
Raven loves spending time with you;
She is also learning your language but she's kinda terrible at it;
You are constantly amazed at how smart she is and how she is practically able to repair everything;
"How do you do that?"
"I'm a mechanic, babe, that's my job."
You love when she calls you like that;
You talk about her to Lexa almost every day and you are surprised yourself at how much complicity you happen to have with Raven;
Raven starts getting seriously excited for the marriage and doesn't look at it as a political move anymore;
She realizes that she hasn't felt genuinely joyous about something in a very long time and she takes awareness of her feelings for you;
It's a bit challenging for her to embrace these new feelings, since she feels a bit guilty about Finn, but she can't control her heart;
The day of the wedding, you're the one who panics: you realize that you want to give Raven the best of you and you wonder if you're not rushing her into a new thing before she's actually ready to face it;
That's when Lexa makes you think about it;
"Raven is strong and independent, she would have simply postponed the wedding. She has feelings for you, it's so clear to anyone. Just breath, little sis, and go marry the woman you love."
You feel a bit better, but nothing makes you realize how much you want this like seeing her dressed in traditional wedding clothes;
Your heart skips a beat, as much as hers, you both look stunning;
"Raven, you look... I don't even have words."
"Y/n, you are simply mesmerising."
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You both compliment each others, your eyes watery and the brightest smile on your faces;
Raven can't stop looking at you during the whole ceremony, thinking about how lucky she is to have you;
You both hesitate to kiss a the end, since you never kissed, and you want your first kiss to be private, so you skip it;
The whole banquet is unbelievably perfect;
You dance with her, your eyes travelling to her lips quite often, since you want to kiss her so bad;
She feels the same but she knows that somehow you both are waiting to be alone for it;
"Can't wait for this feast to be over, I need to be with you."
She whispers in your ear and you smile, pressing your lips on her forehead;
Finally, the banquet ends and you walk to your new shared room, hand in hand;
As soon as you're alone, you can feel the tension;
There's excitement in the air, as much as tender embarrassment;
You caress her cheek, your thumb tracing her lower lip;
"I'd never thought to say it, but this combined marriage it's a pure blessing for me. I love you, Raven Reyes."
You finally confess your feelings, both scared and excited;
She looks at you, eyes watery and her hands caressing your hips;
"You took my broken heart and, with all of your kindness and comprehension, made it whole again. I am lucky to have you and I love you too, I wasn't hoping or expecting to fall for someone new, but Ai hod yu in."
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You feel butterflies erupting in your stomach as soon as you hear her saying that she loves you in your language;
You smile, pulling her toward you and pressing your lips on hers;
You melt into her kiss, soft moaning escaping both of your lips while you passionately deepen it;
She smiles on your lips while you push her on your bed, her hands never stopping caressing you;
She feels safe, she feels home.
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