#Also Bo: ‘SAY YOU KNOW YOU’RE MINE’

[its-monster-mash]

Didn’t Your Momma Ever Tell You not to Talk to Strangers

Bo Sinclair X Reader - Part Three

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Rough Sex(Consensual), Allusion to past non-con(not with Reader)

Part One Part Two

You stir awake, confused with your body aching, in an unfamiliar bed. The last night’s events come back to you when your eyes settle on the man sprawled out on the bed next to you.

Bo.

He looks so peaceful, almost angelic where the light peeks through the heavy curtains and illuminates him. You can’t help but to lean down and press a soft kiss to his forehead.

A sharp inhale, and a soft sigh, and he’s settled deeper into sleep’s embrace. For a moment, you think about settling back into the blankets yourself—it would be so easy to settle into the crook of Bo’s arm—but you’d skipped lunch yesterday, and then missed dinner in favor of satisfying more urgent hungers, so the treacherous bastard that is your stomach forces you to stay awake.

Still though, it’s hard to tear your eyes away from him, now that you have a moment to take in his form in relative stillness.

You know it’s rude to stare, but there’s no one awake to catch you now, so you let your eyes wander over him unreserved—more studying him than anything. Your breath catches in your lungs when you get a good look at his wrists—you’d thought you’d seen scars, but you’d been so preoccupied with the rest of him last night that you didn’t really let it sink in.

You can tell by the thickness and coloration that these are old scars, and you shudder to think of what exactly could have done that to him.

He lets out a small whimper in his sleep, and that reminds you that your little habit is still fucking creepy when the subject of your fascination is asleep—perhaps moreso.

He makes more small sounds of distress, and you wonder if maybe you should wake him—would that be more kind than letting him sleep?

Probably not—he exerted himself quite a bit last night, taking you through round after round of sticky, sweaty, bloody sex—honestly you’re surprised the two of you aren’t sticking to the sheets right now. Smoothing the mess of his hair out of his forehead, you lean in to press another soft kiss to the clammy skin there, and you’re relieved to see him calm, relaxing back into a deep sleep.

Food.

The cavity inside of you aches from the emptiness, and it’s loud and insistent enough to take precedence over the ache of your muscles, and the bruises he’s left all over your body like a lover’s lipstick.

There’s an old Korn shirt folded up beside your pillow that most definitely wasn’t there when you fell asleep—you figure Bo must have left it there for you. You don’t bother to go and find your bra, pulling the soft-worn shirt over your head like a trophy.

Damn.

It’s been a long time since you’ve worn someone else’s clothes, and you relish the way it feels against your skin.

No sense in bothering with bottoms—the shirt is long enough that you’ve worn dresses shorter than it—and you doubt Bo will complain if he’s got easy access when he does wake up.

Especially if he comes downstairs to find you fixing the two of you some breakfast.

He laid down a few ground rules before you fell asleep in his arms last night—you could help yourself to anything in the kitchen as long as you made enough to share, but under no circumstances were you to go in the basement or to go outside without him.

You’d made fun of him about his Mysterious Basement, and something strange flashed across his eyes before he explained that there was a lot of dangerous old equipment down there that he didn’t want messed with—and that the locals are not the friendliest with outsiders, so it’s just best that you don’t go tryin’ to explore the town without him.

He didn’t need to explain himself to you, though—you’re plenty happy to follow his rules since he’s kind enough to let you stay with him after shit hit a boiling point with Tasha and her annoying little boytoy.

It was her that wanted him to come along after all—but all he’d done was bother you.

She had the fucking nerve to be mad at you for it.

You look forward to stopping in to see Bo every time you make your bi-monthly road trip, but yesterday you’d hoped that reminding Tasha, and Corey, of your crush on Bo would get them both to lay off—but Corey pushed you over the edge.

Maybe Tasha was right—maybe you are putting yourself in unnecessary danger; Bo is still technically a stranger to you, after all—you don’t even know his last name.

But if you’d stayed, you couldn’t guarantee that you’d behave—at least this way you could stay in a house with someone you want to trust—rather than getting kicked out on the side of the road after you inevitably wiped that smirk off of Corey’s face.

You don’t think of yourself as particularly violent—but there’s only so far you can be pushed before something snaps in you, and you know it—it’s just safer for everyone if you stay here with Bo until Tasha can come back without him.

But none of that’s important right now.

Now the pressing issue is getting yourself acquainted with his kitchen—first thing’s first—you’d better get it cleaned up before you start digging around for ingredients. It feels a little tacky to get cooking and then only wash what you used when he’s got so much lying around.

Ooh, better start coffee too, you might need it by the time you’re done cleaning up.

It’s not that you’re judging—you’ve seen worse messes in the college dorms, to be honest—but he never did discuss any kind of rent for your stay, so the least you can do is take care of this much.

You’re washing up the last of the mugs when the sound of the kitchen door startles you, and an equally taken aback man stands in the doorway, staring at you with wide eyes that you’re sure match your own.

Bo didn’t tell you anyone else was supposed to show up, but the sheer confusion on the man’s face at the sight of you suggests he’s actually supposed to be here.

“Hey,” you force yourself to start talking, very much wishing you had bothered to find your shorts. “Uh…I’m a—guest—of Bo’s.” You’re suddenly very aware of all the bruises on your body, and you hope to god the man has the decency not to mention them.

You hold your still-soapy hand out for him to shake, and he accepts it a bit awkwardly.

“Blink twice if you’re here against your will.”

For a moment he looks serious, but at the look of utter confusion on your face, he breaks into a wide grin and an easy laugh that makes you feel a whole lot better.

“I’m just foolin’ wit’cha.” He drops his duffel bag to the ground, taking a seat at the table as he studies you. “So you’re Bo’s mysterious girlfriend—heard a lot about you—wasn’t sure you actually existed.”

“Not sure I’d use that word quite yet.” You offer an awkward laugh, turning back to the sink to hopefully hide the way the thought of being something more than just a convenient Fuck Buddy to Bo makes you blush.

“Bo would.” He grins, seeming to relish your discomfort. “Name’s Lester—I’m the baby brother.”

“Nice to meet you.” You smile at him, tugging the hem of your borrowed shirt. “I didn’t know Bo had brothers.” Of course, you don’t actually know very much about Bo to begin with.

“Yeah, there’s two of us—Vincent is Bo’s twin, but uh—I don’t know if you’ll see him any time soon.” Lester squints, squeezing his lips together like he’s suddenly not sure exactly how much he’s supposed to tell you—given Bo apparently hasn’t bothered to fill you in on much of anything.

“Why not? Is he away?” Your brow furrows; it’s really none of your business—but he seemed to offer the information readily enough.

“Vin’s shy—he’s one a’ them reclusive artist types.” He drums his fingers on the table. “He’s real talented though; got a lot a’ work down in our Momma’s ol’ Wax Museum.”

Your eyes light up, and suddenly you find yourself forgetting to be self-conscious. “No kidding; I saw the outside of the Museum when Bo drove me up here, but I haven’t been in.”

His eyes narrow on you, his expression becoming ever-so-slightly hesitant—you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t spent so much time studying body language over the years. “Just how much of the town have you seen?”

“Not a thing,” you admit. “I’ve only ever stopped by to see Bo—and last night he said he doesn’t want me going down into town without him.”

“Oh.” Lester nods slowly, like things are falling into place for him. “Okay, that makes sense.”

You’re about to open your mouth to ask more questions, when Lester perks up. “Hey, you’re the one always bringin’ Bo snacks and stuff—did I interrupt you gettin’ ready to cook breakfast?”

There it is.

“I was just getting the dishes out of the way before I start looking at ingredients.” You dry your hands off on your shirt. “Bo said I could help myself to the kitchen as long as I made enough to share.”

“Oh, so now he’s all about sharing,” Lester huffs, and you can’t help grinning at the way his arms cross like a petulant child. “Greedy bastard won’t let anyone else try the goodies you bring him.” He does his best to look all big and mean and grumpy, and you snort when you realize he’s doing an impression of Bo. “She made it for me—get your own girl.”

“Oh he didn’t,” you laugh. “That’s so rude.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’!” He throws his hands up into the air. “So—you want me to help you find anything? That oughta earn me a seat at the table, right?”

“Sure, Lester.” You smile at him, crossing your arms playfully as you picture Bo hoarding your gifts and calling you his girl. “I’ll bake some muffins if we’ve got the stuff for them—that’s a sharing food.”

“Wow, you are sweet.” He pulls over a chair to climb on, getting a better vantage point to peruse the cabinets. “The hell are you doin’ wit’ Bo?”

“Well, he’s been sweet to me.”

“Sure as hell have,” Bo grumbles, wandering into the kitchen in nothing but boxers and socks.

Your chest tightens at the sight of him, thinking about what Lester had said. “I made coffee—Lester was just helping me find the ingredients I need to make a batch of muffins.”

His expression softens, and he sidles up real close to you, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “Coffee, fresh baked muffins, and a pretty girl gettin’ it for me—man could get used to that.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, wrapping a possessive arm around your waist. “There’s a can ‘a pumpkin in the third cabinet over.”

That’ll occupy Lester for a second; long enough for Bo to lift your shirt up for a quick peek—relishing the marks he’d left on your body—evidence that may as well spell out ‘Bo Sinclair Was Here’. He chuckles when you cover yourself back up at breakneck speed—pleased that he’s the only one you’re eager to go showin’ off for.

He takes a step closer, pinning you between the kitchen counter and his large frame—he relishes the way your hands splay across his chest when he presses a less than innocent kiss under your ear. “Sorry I forgot to tell you we ain’t alone on Laundry Day,” he whispers, his hot breath washing over your ear before he teases you terribly with a lascivious nip. “Otherwise I’d take you right fuckin’ now.”

“Still in the room,” Lester groans in mock irritation, tossing the can of pumpkin at Bo.

He’s fast as lightning when he turns to catch it, and annoyance flashes across his face. “Hey dumbass, you could’a hit her.”

“Oh no way,” Lester laughs. “You wouldn’ta let your girlfriend get hit.” He mocks Bo with an exaggerated show of over the top kissy noises, and Bo whips the can back at him.

“I’m gonna hit you if you keep runnin’ yer damn mouth!” Bo makes the sourest damn expression you’ve ever seen—not unlike a kid in full-tantrum mode—before he picks up Lester’s duffel bag and tosses it to him—a little more gently. “Go do your fuckin’ laundry—shit’s stinkin’ up the place.”

“Oh because roadkill is so much worse than motor oil.” Lester rolls his eyes, but ducks when Bo grabs a mug out of the dish strainer. “It was nice to meet you!” He shoots you one last smile before running off into some other part of the house.

“You guys are such brothers—”

You’re cut off by Bo’s lips on yours, and you gasp when he picks you up and sets your ass down right on the kitchen counter. “Sorry,” he grunts, not sounding remotely sorry. “Couldn’t wait any longer.”

“Bo!” You shriek, weaving your fingers into his hair when he pushes his way between your thighs, his hot tongue dragging through your folds and across your clit.

Your pussy is still sore and swollen from the absolute punishment it took from him last night, so you’re already overstimulated when he slips a finger inside, growling like an animal as he sucks on your clit.

You can’t help squeezing your thighs together around his head, and apparently that was the wrong move, because his mouth leaves your clit in order to bite down hard on the soft flesh of your inner thigh.

He grins when he hears you yelp.

He leans back, taking a good eyeful of you sat up on the counter, your face flushed with need—for him—with only one of his old shirts for modesty. He sees something in your eyes that he’s never been able to simply take from the victims he’s had before.

You want him, and there ain’t a lick of shame in your eyes about it.

He rubs the already bruising spot where he’d bitten you with a careful tenderness, and you hum. “God, you’re just so damn good for me.”

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. You’ve spent exactly one night here—he knows it’s not the time to be laying it on so thick. You ain’t like the other girls—you still like him by choice—he doesn’t want to fuck that up by letting you know just how much of an effect you have on him. How much he’s fixated on you from the very beginning.

He doesn’t want to give you that kind of power over him—he can’t afford to give you a knife to twist.

But God help him, there you go twisting it anyway.

He’d been so caught up in his own head that he hadn’t noticed your soft hands creeping up to cup his cheeks—fuck—you always look so fuckin’ sweet when you hold him tender and look into his eyes.

He’s terrified you’re gonna look right into his soul, and that you won’t like what you see.

“Wanna be your good girl,” you whisper, your lips ghosting his before you take his bottom lip between your teeth.

“Oh Sugar,” he groans, moving his hand between you to rub your clit—taking back at least a little control. “You got no idea what you’re doin’ to me.”

You whimper so sweet against his lips, and he drinks it all in. He kisses the corner of your mouth, the curve of your jaw, your throat—lower and lower until he’s once again settled between your legs.

You deserve this. So good for him. The longer he can keep you dumb for his touch the longer he can keep you here and drag out the illusion that he’s the man you want, the man who makes your heart flutter with something other than fear.

Two fingers—you’re already wet enough that he ain’t bothering with just one—curl against the sweet spot inside of you, and your hands are back in his hair as you squirm in his grasp.

“Want you to look at me,” he growls against your clit, before his tongue darts back out to trace his full name.

God.

There’s a desperate hunger in your eyes when they meet his, and he knows that the tears of pleasure pricking at your lashes are all for him.

“Fuck, Bo,” you whine, wriggling your hips against his face. “Gonna cum.”

“Come on, Baby,” he grunts. “Le’me have it.”

He’s utterly transfixed by the way you try to keep your eyes open when you lose control of your body—like you want to see the man between your legs as he laps up your sweet juices.

It’s a big fuckin’ ego boost, and it goes straight to his head.

Suddenly, he’s standing, looming over you and wrapping a hand around your throat while the other keeps on pettin’ your sweet pussy.

“Bo, please,” you whine, your thighs trembling from the overstimulation. “It’s too much.”

“Bo, please,” he teases you, though he gives you a break long enough to pull his cock free from his boxers, sliding it through your slick before smacking you a couple good times against the clit. “You want this cock, honey?”

You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders while your eyes fixate on where the head of his cock just barely dips into you.

“Words, Sugar,” he insists, the hand on your throat moving to cup your jaw to force you to look him in the eyes. Mistake. His heart flutters at the look of utter need you give him. “You want more than just the tip, you're gonna have to remember your manners.”

“Please, Bo,” you beg, your lip quivering pathetically as you try to will your pretty little head to form thoughts. “Need to feel you inside me.”

Need.

He can’t help himself from sinking into you—‘Need’ feels like a good word when he’s buried deep in the warmth of your sex. He kisses you hard, and he knows damn well his grip on your jaw is gonna bruise—but as long as you keep clinging to him for dear life and moaning so pretty in his mouth he can’t be bothered to care. His tongue traces the curve of your lips, before plunging past your teeth to dance against your own.

“You like tastin’ yourself on me, Sweetheart?”

You nod, stealing another kiss like you can’t help yourself before deigning to speak. “Fuck, Bo, yes.”

One of your hands snakes around to squeeze his throat, and the growl that escapes him is nothing short of feral.

For a split second, he’s enraged that you’d fuckin’ dare, but the manic lust on your face as you choke him is so damn hot he nearly busts right there.

Instead, he pulls out of you, ripping himself from your grasp. You let out a ragged moan from the loss of contact, but he doesn’t give you enough time to be disappointed before grabbing you by the back of the neck and slamming you face down against the table, giving your ass a good hard smack with his free hand.

God damn you’re a filthy slut—wriggling your ass back against him like you’re desperate for it.

Lucky for you, you’re not the only one who’s nasty.

He rams his cock back into your heat, his grip on your neck still forcing your face down into the table as he chases his release like a beast in rut.

He growls in your ear, more animal than man, before taking the lobe between his teeth. “You’re mine, you fuckin’ hear me?”

“Bo!” You shriek, the coil at the core of your pleasure threatening to snap.

“Say you know you’re fuckin’ mine,” he growls. “‘I’m yours, Bo.’” His other hand slips around you to palm your clit roughly, too roughly. “Say. It.”

“I’m YOURS,” you all but sob as you come undone around his cock, body all alight from the too-intense pleasure.

He’s not far behind—his thrusts become erratic, and he doesn’t even care about dragging it out any longer as he explodes inside of you, panting like a dog against your shoulder as your bodies melt into shuddering spasms.

“Damn fuckin’ right.”

He allows himself to slump back into one of the kitchen chairs, dragging you with him with his cock still inside you.

You take his hand to your lips and kiss his knuckles. His heart lurches in his chest.

“Fuck, Bo.” You lean your head back against his shoulder, smiling at him with that blissed out and dumb look on your face. “That’s one way to work up an appetite.”

His hand snakes up to squeeze your titty through his old shirt as he laughs, burying his face in your shoulder.

He can hardly fucking believe you’re real.

[stealingpotatoes]

just watched mando s3 it’s great that we TOTALLY had a whole season about din coming to grips with being mand’alor & life without grogu and about dueteragonist bo-katan coming to realise she was only trying to lead mand’alor bc of her sister not bc she thought she was the best leader. and the whole season centred around the theme of accepting who you really are even if you’re certain you’re something else and was about how heroes and leaders can come from anywhere, they don’t have to come from a special bloodline (a sorta thesis against the skywalker saga) and about the uniting power of grief and oppression. isn’t it great we had that instead of a season with no plot 

isn’t it great that there were no mando cameos in tbobf and mando season 3 started with him on a bounty, cringefailing at using the darksaber and stabbing himself but he did the job and got paid in a nubian starfighter (he wanted a razor crest but he’s injured so he doesnt argue much) which he then used to find his covert on the canyon planet. then he revealed to the armorer and paz that he had the darksaber which after some time leads to paz duelling din for the saber (without telling the others bc they dont know din has it) and din wins but its revealed he took his helmet off. he’s made apostate IN FRONT OF EVERYONE (EVERYONE!!) with only one IMPOSSIBLE chance of redemption (nobody can go to mandalore anymore!!) and has to leave and now has nothing — no child, no clan. so he does the only thing he can think to and goes to a green planet we’ve never seen before. he lands safely but still injured from his fight with Paz and not fully healed from the original injury he passes out. and the episode ends with a kid running over and telling another kid to call master skywalker

and sure episode 2 was the fanservice episode but its disney! we have to expect a marketable plushie cameo episode — except of course that didn’t mean it wasn’t plot relevant! din wakes up and we realise he’s at luke’s jedi academy and this is great n stuff we finally get to see luke in his prime teaching a whole bunch of students! and we get to see grogu happy and having fun with his kind (which makes din happy but miss his own covert). luke notices din has a saber himself (despite it being well-hidden — luke can sense it) and din admits he can’t use it and that he doesnt think it even belongs to him while luke shows him saber forms (but pretends its for his own training and not din’s bc din refuses to learn). they have a discussion and din reveals he came here bc he got kicked out and has no way to redeem himself bc there are no mines left and even then the planet’s poisonous. luke spouts some jedi stuff asking din if he’s certain and says blind certainty is the enemies of hope and progress or whatever (setting up the larger theme of identity certainty in the season). luke also points out that if they imps r there then they have to have some way of getting around the environment they caused. inspired and knowing grogu is safe here, din is ready to go redeem himself on mandalore. he says he’ll come to see grogu again and luke makes it clear that while attachments can’t get in front of duty, din is always welcome here <3 

episode 3 of course had din go to the ruins of mandalore to redeem himself, inspired by luke’s words about certainty he goes to the ruins of sundari, where he knows there was once living waters (the other option is the one surviving and imperial-controlled city, but he’s not that dumb). also bc the imps only hang around the cities so that must be where it's survivable. there’s some imperials about the edge of the city (not many) and he does have to subtly fight them but he gets spotted. he wins but he’s panicking bc during the fight his breathing system got hit but then he notices a plant growing. and he realises he’s not dying — the air isn’t poisonous anymore or whatever! so he turns off his failing life support and goes to the city. he explores the city and finds many remnants of mandalorian culture there in the small parts that survived. ash-covered murals, mostly-burnt toys, something that could have once been a palace. he finds a memorial to a duchess satine kryze and thinks huh like bo katan? (because of course the show wouldn’t ignore bo’s motivations) anyway after some slow but meaningful exploring (its quietness eerie, unlike the quietness of the previous stealth section) he manages to make his way below the city. he finds the mines, reads the inscription and then goes in. except of course its no longer shallow and he falls and he falls and he realises well fuck he’s gonna die. his life support got hit earlier and he doesnt have his jetpack he’s going to sink. but then in the darkness, a great looming eye opens and before din knows it, SOMETHING is throwing him out that sinking water. it had to have been a freak current right? he was hallucinating. surely a MYTHOSAUR didn’t just save him… those are all dead, only to return with a new age of mandalore! he shakes his head, ignores it, and collects the water with something new to bring to his people

episode 4 reintroduced us to old fan favourite bo katan in her depression girl era bc din shows up to her empty palace ready to help her take back mandalore… only to find her in a depression pit and— oh my god is she drunk??! she drops that her ppl left her bc she didn’t have the darksaber and din’s looking at the depression pit like. right. bc of the darksaber. he briefly tries to convince her to fight him for it but she’s like no you’ll throw the fight it won’t be true comba— oh no! explosion nearby bc looks like din wasn’t as careful as he thought and the imperials followed him to bo’s place so both of them have to fucking skeet outta there and bo’s home’s destroyed so din’s like hey come on let’s go to my people we can take back mandalore with them or smthn. so they head back to the covert, din reveals he’s no longer apostate and that mandalore isnt cursed it’s breathable + you can successfully walk on the surface now. this is however interrupted by a beast showing up and trying to kill some ppl. it almost kills paz’s son but din kills the beast first in his starfighter. anyway back to the conversation (now within the cave) and din’s trying to convince his clan that they can take back mandalore (with bo as leader) but none of them want to follow her or risk what few numbers they have left. dejected, din and bo make to leave again, but paz follows them out and is like ?? din you literally have the darksaber why didn’t you use it to get at least SOME of them to follow you and din’s like i don’t want people to follow me bc of a legend, if they follow me it has to be bc they want to and paz and bo r internally like wow damn. anyway paz then says he’ll always fight w din if needed bc he saved his son but if he wants the people to follow him they should try get some of the other clans to help so it looks less dangerous. so bo and din leave on their quest. also throughout this episode, we’re introduced to some random civilian in the reintegration program. its implied they worked with gideon and that they’re preparing for something, but we don’t get much more than that. 

episode 5 is the bo episode, this is where we explore her character, have her arc, and ya know really cover her motivations (bc disney would NEVER make it so her motivation is invisible unless you’d seen two other tv shows). din and bo head to where her clan is. they just want to see the clan but they end up being dragged into a b-plot about helping the local pacifist duchess (& duke). din tries to say no but bo-katan says smthn abt diplomacy. this quest initially doesn’t seem plot relevant but throughout bo opens up about her own pacifist duchess sister and she comes to realise how much of this quest has been about trying to live up to satine and not bc she thinks herself the best mand’alor. the thing she said abt diplomacy earlier, she reveals, is just a quote from her sister. anyway they’re finally able to go to bo’s old clan and she, now reinvigorated in accepting and knowing who she is and what she wants (no longer depression girl) challenges axe for leadership of the clan. she wins and in a speech is like we’re gonna retake unpoisonous mandalore by uniting the clans!! most agree but theyre like HOW are we supposed to convince the other clans? and it descends into insane yelling UNTIL a low hum and a black-white light falls over the group. silence falls. everyone looks on. high above his head, din is holding the darksaber (proudly!!) and he’s like we’ll unite them with this. but axe has to constantly be chatting shit and getting up from the floor where he got his ass whipped he’s like really???? you wanna follow him???? he doesn’t even have any mandalorian blood in him!!! and bo makes a great speech about blood doesn’t make a good leader what makes a good leader is knowing when to use your power. and then she’s like he is my mand’alor amen and kneels before him. everyone else follows and din awkwardly stands there still not fully accepting his role 

episode 6 was the great prep episode. we start with din and bo helping and getting a new tribe on their side and heading back to Concordia we realise they’ve got this HUGEEEE war camp of mandalorians!! there are so many clans with them now (except one, which din is really missing)!!!!! this episode mostly focuses on mandalorian culture and them training/ planning and din and bo trying to keep the clans from biting each other’s heads off. but this is interrupted when a small group of imperials try to pre-attack them (like they did w bo’s palace) but the mandos all manage to fight back and take them down, which then leads to a whole speech from din and bo about how mandalorians are all fighting but theyre united now in their grief and with this they can fight the empire. the b-plot of the episode comes back to that random civilian from episode 4 and whoomp turns out their plan was to BREAK MOFF GIDEON OUT OF JAIL!! shitttt!!!! oh no!! he’s back now, that’s gonna make their very decent plan to take back mandalore harder but they dont knowww (irony!)

episodes 7 and 8 were the battle of mandalore, woo! it had to be two episodes because it’s a taking whole occupied planet and not a single base, a pretty damn difficult task that definitely can’t be done by two single clans in like 40 minutes! there’s all those mini tiny bases scattered throughout the planet on the ruins (like din encountered in episode 3) AND more importantly there’s the one domed city that the imperials kept alive as their main base — which means they have to be careful, bc they can’t do any sort of aerial assault or great deal of damage to the imperials without also destroying the one surviving place for them to live. so the plan is smaller strike teams to go the bases plopped around the planet as a distraction and to stop reinforcements to the city while the main force surround the city and take it. the first city team (with din and bo) has to open up all the ports and stuff to allow the HUGE armies to get in. unfortunately this is in the main imp base in the centre of the city so they have to get there. (they’d prefer 2 strike teams but they can only spare 1) MOST of the mini-bases r meanwhile being successfully captured. the strike team gets to the centre to de-activate the port shielding n stuff and GASP! IT’S GIDEON!! FROM JAIL!! and he’s surrounded by fucking MANDO STORMTROOPERS and IN BESKAR ARMOUR oh no!! ambush!! he knew they’d have to go here to allow a full-scale assault! the small strike team at sundari also gets captured bc there were some mandotroopers there (they increased security post episode 3). episode 7 ends on a cliffhanger bc all seems lost and the strike team’s surrounded 

episode 8 starts straight off the cliffhanger and oh no they’re all gonna die gasp WHEN BAM fighting noises elsewhere, everyone’s confused, when paz’s voice crackles over din’s comm like hey bro! BC DIN’S CLAN FINALLY SHOWED UP TO HELP AND THEY WERE ABLE TO MAKE THAT SECOND STRIKE TEAM and in the confusion din & bo’s team take out the mandotroopers, gideon gets away. din and paz and the armorer come face to face and paz calls him mand’alor or smthn bc he’s also accepted it and they’re like woo let’s go now we can fight fr!! din heads to help lead the battle ig but bo’s like nah i have to end gideon for what he did to our planet. and din’s like well he’s wearing beskar armour so you’ll need this and gives her his beskar spear WHICH IS SYMBOLIC BC he’s finally giving up his other weapon and is going to solely use the darksaber!! he’s accepted who he is and is going to lead their ppl!! so yeah instead of having din fight gideon, who he already beat once, bo fights him and its incredibly cathartic. at sundari that strike team who got captured is also not looking great but MYTHOSAUR EX MACHINA COMES AND FUCKS UP THE IMPERIALS THERE (its returned!!). so big battle and gideon’s down and the darksaber DOESN’T get destroyed yay! afterwards they all vibe and they go to the forge and the armorer relights it and they proclaim din mand’alor fr and he accepts it and throne. sure he's still a BIT uneasy (mand'alor the reluctant anyone?) but he's not saying NOO now loll. yayyy!! AND THEN final scene is din returns to the jedi academy like hii thanks for ur advice u were right being blindly certain abt stuff is meh and leaves no room for hope. uh could i show grogu mandalore i promise i’ll bring him right back and it ends on din showing grogu the planet finally bc thats cute and fanservice

anyway isn’t it great this is exactly what happened, it’s all canon and definitely not the stealingpotatoes sequels canon continuity rewrite! 

[mysticovo]

Hiya! Could you do a Rise!Donnie reverse hurt/comfort fic?It could be about anything,I just feel like that silly goose needs a hug or something.✨🌕

I studied code because I wanted you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I was falling in and out of sleep. The sound of a keyboard filled the almost silent room. Soon the noise switched to tinkering, then back to typing every few moments. The relaxed breathing slowly became strained. A few angered mumbles drifted through the air.

I opened my eyes to a room bathed in purple. My face resting on something green and scaley. I originally came to the lair for a study date with my boyfriend, Don. Eventually it evolved to me on his lap cuddling him. I suppose I fell asleep in the process of it.

He was probably running updates on Shelldon or fixing whatever his brothers must’ve broken, again.I shifted my head to the side to gaze down at what he was working on. It was a…smart..toaster? I feel like it was used in another pranking war by the others.

He took of the case and was focusing on fixing the very, very damaged internal machinery. Specifically the heaters and power source. While also untangling the wires. It wasn’t working as he planned. He slammed down the screwdriver in his hand and slapped the other over his eyes.

“Dee?” I asked. He jumped once i said something, “ Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah of course I am”, he replied. His voice was wavering. The hand around his eyes tightened while the hand on his desk drifted to my back and hugged me closer to him. His entire body was shaking and his breathing became heavier. I sat up to fully look at him. It seemed as if he was on the verge of tears. “Oh Don”, I sighed out. That…might’ve been the final straw before he broke into tears. Donnie shoved his face into my top and threw an arm around my neck. I hugged him closer to my chest and laid my head on top of his. The sobs were a muffled mess and it was all I could hear. We sat there for a while. I don’t know for how long but it felt like hours…

A muffled noise came from Donatello. I looked down at him as he shifted his head to the side.

“What was that?” I asked him softly, I didn’t want to overstimulate him when he was already upset.

He sat back up and brought back that mask he usually had, the bad boy one of course.

“Never mind…I’m fine”, He mumbled back as he rubbed the last few tears out of his eyes.

“Donnie…you can’t just say you’re fine when you just broke down like that..” I at him again and brought a hand to his cheek/beak. He was avoiding my eyes. He was..hiding something. “You can tell me anything.”

“I just-“, He sighed and looked down at our laps,”-I’m the tech guy. I’m the smart one. It’s all I’m good for….if I can’t do this simple fix and be that, why would any of you need me..”. Tears had welled back up in his eyes, his voice was wavering again and it seemed like he was holding the cries back. He was…trembling.

“Don, none of us could ever think that-”, I paused, hugging him again and rubbing my thumb against his beak,”-Plus you’re more than that. Why even made you think that we wouldn’t need or want you?” I started to wipe away the tears in his eyes.

“You see everything my brothers do and are. Raphael is strong, everyone thinks Leo is funny and the face of the group and Mikey’s the creative one. I’m nothing like them..”, He mumbled it again, his gaze softened as he looked into mine.

“Donnie, I wouldn’t want you any other way. Preferably nothing like your brothers….no offense to them though.” I sort of laughed when I said it, I didn’t mean to though. I didn’t really expect him to laugh as well. More of a chuckle maybe? At least it was boosting his mood.

“You’re still funny at times, I love it when you make a science related joke that almost nobody gets. I sometimes get them though. You’re strong as well, it doesn’t matter if it’s with some tech or not. Remember that time you swung an entire giant drill with just a Bo stick? How is that not strong? What about all the battle shells, the turtle tank and all of the other tech you’ve made? You wouldn’t be able to without some creativity. I know you say you’re not like them but you are in your own special way. And I love that..I love you..”. I smiled at him, he had an expression on his face that was sort of hard to make out. I think it was a bit surprised, but somewhat happy? I gently and softly kissed him on his beak, right next to his mouth but not on it.

“I…love you as well…”. He mumbled it again. It was a hard thing for him to vocalize.

“please don’t ever think like that again. Now…do you wanna go back to cuddling? Maybe you can ramble as we do…”, I smiled at him and pressed my forehead against his.

“I’d..I’d like that..” He smiled back and hugged me, moving to grab his forgotten screwdriver.

“Want to hear some facts about uranium?”

~~~~~~~~~~~ The title is from Rat by Penelope Scott. I hope you liked this moon anonnie! Sorry it took so long! It’s been sitting in my school notebook for a while and has sort of become an inside joke from one line. Points to whoever guesses it. 💜🐢💜

(⌒▽⌒) Bai my mystic deers!!

[kozumesphone]

also, second one (cause i couldnt resist)

if u seek amy! i think thatll be fun

my hobby is reading and playing the guitar!

i think i read like fifty books last year..

my fav books are pjo tlt (its nostalgic ok!!) and the hunger games series

i like to play mostly taylor swift and gracie abrams songs on the guitar!

i basically steal my sisters guitar whenever i want to play cause i dont have my own lol (im better than her)

my favorite taylor swift song is youre on your own kid

my favorite gracie abrams song is feels like

my favorite color is yellow (pretty obvious i think) it reminds me of sunshine and just overall happy things yk?

my favorite season is spring! the flowers start blooming and theyre so pretty (downside are the bugs)

i have a lot of favorite shows: stranger things, brooklyn 99, the good place, modern family

my favorite subject is chemistry! i love learning about the world around me and its properties etcetc

some random stuff about my personality: i get distracted so easily its a nightmare to study, i am an emotional wreck i cry easily, definitely a night owl, hufflepuff, daughter of poseidon

i dont mind if u pick someone from a book i dont recognise, that will just give me incentive to read it!!!

oh forgot to mention im a straight girl

love uuuu and congrats again!!!

⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏𓂁﹏⊹ ࣪ ˖

CORASON⭑.ᐟ

⟢ “I love you, okay, darling!”

a/n: okay but the way the ship name is corason? which sounds so close to corazon? which means like ‘my dear’ in italian, I think?? MADE FOR EACH OTHER MUCH 🤭💓

I think you’d best match with jason grace!

I mean, daughter of poseidon x son of jupiter? hello?? PERFECTION!!

jason would learn to play the piano while you play the guitar, so you guys could play music together

he LOVES laying on your stomach while you read on your bed and run your fingers through his hair

^ sometimes, he even falls asleep like that, and you both slowly shift into cuddling

he definitely hypes you up to finish your goodreads reading goal, if not exceed it (what can I say? he’s jason grace)

he definitely went to the ballad of songbirds and snakes movie with you (supportive bfs even when they have no idea what you read/watch >>)

he once asked you why you love yoyok by taylor, and straight up bawled while you explained to him what the song meant

he’s a very sunshine-y person, just like you, so when you guys are together, leo pretends to faint and says “too much sun! i’m getting sunstroke! help!!” and he thinks he’s really funny (i’d laugh, ngl <3)

come springtime, he lets you put all the flowers you collect over the summer into his hair

^ he also does the rapunzel braid on your hair and puts in matching flowers in it

(he drives away the bugs for you, dw!)

in an au, he’d never have heard of any tv shows, but after hearing you yap to him about them, he watches them ALL and makes notes about them too (about what? only he knows.)

okay, here we’re going off the rails so badly, but it’s a very ooc and personal hc of mine: jason sucks ASS at geography and chemistry. he will literally breakdown at the very thought of them.

he gets you to help him out with the chemistry part, and he teaches you math (if you’re not good at it already)!

he makes sure you don’t let yourself get burnt out while studying, and also makes sure you don’t get distracted and procrastinate

he comforts you at any time of the day: you say it, he’ll be over asap to give you free cuddles with your favourite chocolates & drinks

sometimes, he doesn’t even need you to tell him. he’ll just. know. when you’re feeling off. and his jacie senses tingle, and he calls you up and goes, “is it cuddletime?” and then drives over

while you’re a night owl, he’s an early bird (he must teach me his way, tho, because h o w)

^ you stay up till 2-3 am reading/studying and wake up by 9 or 10 am, while he sleeps by 10 pm and wakes up by 5 am to the dot

so you guys leave each other sticky notes before going to bed for the other one to see when they wake up

you guys 100% go on bookstore dates (he buys you everything you can carry on your own), library/study dates (especially while grinding during finals szn), museum dates (to mock the statues), beach dates (so he can get mesmerised while watching you do silly little tricks with the water and talk to the fishies), etc.

his love language is 101% physical touch & acts of service <3

temp. taglist — @nuncscioquidsitamor-14 @mqstermindswift @puffoz @skeelly @urmomabby

@sunnitheapollokid @jgracie @canonfeminine @cinemaconrad @roses4plvto

@urbanflorals @aezuria @thetunnelunderoceanboulevard @cherigall @percabethluvr

@pjoverseluvr @maybxlle @mershellscape @riordanness @starlitszn

@metyouattherighttime @a-beautiful-fool @sequinsnstars @ssparksflyy @fayvpor

@iheartgirlzn @nomournersnofunerals @over-the-ocean-call @seaglass-and-string @cer3lia

@lara20aral @bloophasarrived @xoxochb @auroraofthesun1 @sophiesonlinediary

@solangelotus @brodieland @s1utlvr @imasimpdealwithit @waitingonher

@nqds @skyrigel @daydream-of-a-wallflower @hermidastouch @catastrxblues

@moon-drop18 @d4rkdi0rrr @hopelesslyromantic-shark @saltwatergirl6 @hope92100

event masterlist

[titikawai]

My DinBo headcanons for the rest of the series

•Din is impressed by her fighting and how much of a good leader she is

•He loves her hair

•One day he burges in on a cute talk between Grogu and Bo and can’t help but appreciate how motherly she is to him

•he sees her training Grogu / the foundlings

•Din reacts to her beskar pauldron

•they train together / she teaches him how to wield the darksaber

•Bo saying sth flirty mid fight to catch him off guard and win

•she teaches him how to make Pog soup

•they eat together while sitting back to back not to see each other’s face (I stole this one from: @pieshot56)

•stargazing at night while they have a deep convo

•« I never know if you’re staring at me or just zoned out »

•talk about family or in their case the lack there off and their wish to create their own (foundlings or true Mando community)

•him placing a hand on hero’s when she mentions Satine

•Bo confessing what she did while in Death Watch and Din taking a burden off her shoulder because she was « just an influential kid who wanted to do good »

•she rests her head on his shoulder and Din has a silent mental breakdown

•he also tells her about how he didn’t like just being a bounty hunter and wished he « was good at something else than violence » before he met Grogu and everything changed

•she reacts to his words and remembers she did say something similar once and how when she met him and grogu she did feel a switch (but doesn’t tell him)

•she tells him about the mythosaur and how she thought she had gone mad and « you’re gonna think I’m crazy » and he answer : « there is nothing that you will ever say to me that will make you sound crazy » (quoting Stiles Stilinski ik)

•him saying he will help her tame it and bring it back

•both saying they trust each other

•Korkie survived and is allowed as a guest on the moon

•He meets Din : « Auntie, your new boyfriend is so badass »

• Bo : « he’s not my … » Din: « we’re not… »

•Korkie’s knowing look

•They finally go back to Mandalore and she gives him a tout of the ruins and tells him her childhood memories

•They tame the mythosaur together but Bo is the one actually giving him the last hit to make it pass out

•Bo trying to hide her injuries from Din but ends up fainting in front of him

•he saves her for once and catches her before she hits the floor

•she wakes up and he’s taking care off her, lying her down : « Let me take care of you for once, please just let me »

•washing off the blood from her body and noticing a broken rib

•Bandages her saying « I should have been more careful, I didn’t want you to get hurt »

• noticing an old scar and staring at it till Bo eventually tells him the story behind it

•Din stays up all night by the fire to make sure she is safe

•they go back to mandalore: her on the mythosaure and him with the light saber in hand. All the children of the watch and Korkie kneel in front of them

•One night around the fire, Din confessed how he was scared she would die and how much he cares about her

•Din: « I know we have our differences and you might still want to kill me after I took the darksaber from you but… I like you… you really don’t have to like me back but … »

•Bo slowly but surely goes for a Keldabe kiss. They stand helmet to helmet while also holding each other’s hands

•Grogu is not far… smiling cause his mom and dad are finally a sailing ship

•Same with the armourer who the next day suggests a mandalorian political wedding to unite all clans

•Bo wants to think about it alone and leaves for Mandalore again and finds herself in the mines all over again. She’s scared of her feelings

•Din is scared he did something wrong and texts her asking if everything is alright but she doesn’t answer for days

• she eventually does, sharing her location

•he rushes there and finds her by the water in which he bathed back in episode 2

•she tells him about her feelings and how scary all of this is to her

•Din confesses he feels the same way but doesn’t want to lose her because he is too afraid

• they are alone in the mines, he takes off his helmet

•she’s like « Why are you doing this? You don’t have to! »

•and he answers : « I want you to see the truth in my eyes when I say I will never leave your side »

•she tears up and eventually takes off her helmet and tell him the same applies to her

•they both smile, he washes off her tears and they slowly kiss

•Then R-rated scene involving scar and forehead kissing, hair caressing…

•They eventually come back to the children of the watch and accept the « political marriage » that actually isn’t one

•they have the cutest intimate wedding (kind of like Anakin and Padmé in Episode II)

Season 4 :

•They both start rebuilding Mandalore

•Mandalorian from every clan meet and do feasts together, a real sense of community emerges

•Paz Vizla and Din become BFF and the same thing happens with Grogu and Ragnar

•Bo and Sabine reunite

•Ahsoka and Luke often visit Mandalore to see Bo, Din and Grogu

•Din and Bo still parent Grogu

•Din is the sword of Mandalore and Bo does the ruling and the administrative work = Dream team work

•maybe they find a new foundling they name Satine

•post wedding : DinBo isn’t scared to take off their helmets when they are just the two of them. Often, when Din goes and look for injuries on his wife’s face, he’d notice how pretty her eyes are, causing him to blush

[sketchy-rosewitch]

hi! Hello! I think this is my first time requesting something from a favorite writer of mine- either way, and if it’s not too much to ask, could I get some Vincent Sinclair first meeting with an afab reader? But like, the reader is a fighter and is really aggressive when fighting off Bo or is in danger from a friend in a group she traveled with or something. You can decide the situation, but Vincent just gets so wowed and amazed by her spirit and just gets obsessed-

it can be smut (preferably-) or fluff, I really don’t mind! Also also, I just wanna say I LOVE your writing! Your ideas and the way you write the fiction is so interesting and it gives me so much inspiration to write on my own!

For the Hatred of Friends: Vincent x afab!reader

Warnings: attempt at SA by friends, morally grey reader, shitty friends, You know the drill (death), eating pussy out, PinV,

A/N: lol don’t know why this took me so long, my fucking bad 😤😤

But I’m so happy you like my writing it means a lot! ❤️❤️❤️🥰🥰

When you and your friends entered the museum it was cold. The air blew directly onto you and sent a chill down your spine.

The museum was interesting to say the least, not only did it hold wax figures but little sculptures of ballerinas and mythical creatures lined the shelves. There were also paintings too, all done by a man named Vincent, or the woman who had come up with the wax museum herself, Trudy Sinclair. All of it interested you, but to your friends it seemed like some joke. It’s what you hated about them, they all still acted like they were in high school. Immature and loud and not in a fun way.

“Let’s go upstairs.” Liam elbows you lightly and points at the stairs. You sigh and roll your eyes so hard you’re sure they’ll roll out of your head. “Come on, don’t be like that.”

“I don’t wanna go upstairs, you’re probably just going to fuck something up up there then I gotta sit here and explain what happened to Bo. So he can explain to the fucking owner why all of the sculptures are fucked up in some way.” Your voice gets slightly louder, Liam rolls his eyes this time.

“Whatever, Livy, You wanna check out the upstairs with me?” She peaks her head out from the kitchen and smiles.

“Sure as hell do!”

Your fists clench and unclench as you watch the two go up the stairs and in some other room.

Will comes out from behind a counter. You barely knew him, he was Livy’s friend from high school. He was nice and lacked less maturity than the other two. “You see the kitchen yet? I know Livy was in there already.” Will asks, you shake your head. “Let’s go see it, I bet it’s as cool as this living room.”

Will takes your hand, it feels weird but try and shrug it off so you could enjoy yourself.

He lets go of your hand and looks around, you stand at the entry way awkwardly , not really basking in the details. You notice that the maid had her face half melted off, probably do to her being in the sunlight in Louisiana. The black fabric of her dress was also faded due to sun damage.

“Come look at this.” Will says, he’s pointing at the details you can’t quite make out on the cabinets. Will steps back and you unfold your arms, walking over. The wax cabinets have a leafy flower pattern carved in it. It was beautiful.

“Isn’t it amazing.”

He leans over your body, you scowl and try to move away from him.

“Dude, move.”

“Sorry, why don’t we head upstairs with the other two?”

“I already told Liam I didn’t want to go upstairs. My mind isn’t gonna change just because you asked me.”

Will’s face falters slightly before he sighs. He grabs your arm and pulls you a bit. “Come onnn.”

You pull your arm off. “No, I’m about to just go back to the gas station. All three of you are driving me crazy!” Your voice gets louder and louder. You storm into the main room, you’re a few feet from the door when Will grabs you roughly. You let out a yelp and twist your arm to get out of his grip. He instead grabs your waist.

“I GOT HER!” Will shouts, you look at Will shocked and then up at the landing to see Livy and Liam making their way down.

Your foot stomps Will’s causing him to let go for a split second you run but Livy grabs you and throws you to the ground. You try and get up on your own, instead Will and Liam grab your upper arms holding you up. You wiggle and struggle in their grip.

“Poor baby.” Livy coos. You growl at her. She touches your face and you bite at her hand.

“The fuck is wrong with you guys?”

Livy touches your waist, you kick outwards causing Liam to groan and grip you tighter.

“Don’t you get it? We were waiting for something like this. No people around, nowhere to run, we can do whatever we want to you and just leave you here for dead and no one would know what happened.”

You swing your arms, a loud “Fuck you! The hell is wrong with you guys!” Comes from your mouth, you then kick around in attempt to get loose, one kick lands in Livy’s stomach and she cries out. “You’re a bitch is what’s wrong with you! We were waiting to use you and get rid of you!” Livy gets up and punches you in the nose, tears well in your eyes, your nose stings. You attempt to back hand Liam, the two men throw you on the ground and kick you.

You grab one of their ankles and pull, causing Liam to topple over.

Stomping is heard and it’s nothing like Livy or even Will’s feet. There’s a loud scream heard and all of a sudden blood is on your face. You’re quick to sit up, you look up seeing a tall man with jet black hair looking down at you. Your vision feels blurry and your brain doesn’t process his face. All you know is something is off about it.

Liam is heard crying and running up the stairs, the man goes after him. You look around and Will is nowhere to be seen either, next to you is a bleeding body, you assume is Livy’s.

Your head feels light so you lay down. Just for a second.

-

Your body slowly wakes up after hours of sleeping. You feel yourself on a bed and your eyes shoot open you look around frantically, not at all recognizing where you are.

You try and sit up, with your muscles feeling sore it was hard. A groan escapes your lips. As you look around the room , reality hits you bit by bit. Livy was dead, you’d have to guess Will and Liam were too the way you heard at least Liam screaming before you passed out. You sigh, they were trying to kill you this whole trip and they didn’t have an opportunity until today.

Now you were in some strangers house not knowing where you were or what to do.

You get up from the bed and walk down the hall to where you assume the stairs are. The house smells old, almost mildewy. The steps creak as you move down them.

“Hell-“ Your voice rasps and you cough up form the dust in the air. You need some water too.

Foot steps are heard behind you, from another hallway.

What a weird house.

The tall man with long hair walks into your view. You squint trying to see him better, luckily he walks into the light. You notice he wears a mask, it’s face is similar to Bo. You raise a brow.

“Where am I?”

“My house.”

You just stare at the man, questions run rampant in your brain.

“You’re the man from the Wax Museum?”

He nods.

“Are you Vincent?”

Another nod.

“Are they all dead?”

One last nod. You look down slowly, a shaky breath leaves your mouth then back up at him. “Why am I not dead?”

Vincent guides you to the couch. He sits down a comfortable distance away. You can tell he’s thinking about what to say.

“You didn’t touch my art. I heard you arguin’ from the basement with them. Came to take care of them when I heard you screamin’ you were fightin’ back and I was.. amazed by it. I realized I had to step in, I’m sure you could’ve taken them but it was faster than watching you get hurt more.”

Vincent’s voice rasps and cracks as he talks. You can tell he hardly uses it. His vocal cords were probably crying out for help.

“Thank you.”

-

It had been months since Vincent saved you and to say he was attached was an understatement.

He let you go wherever you wanted but sometimes you’d catch him watching you if you wanted to be alone.

You didn’t mind it and even teased Vincent about it. Told him to sit down so you two could talk.

You had admitted at one point you didn’t want to go home, couldn’t even go if you wanted to. You cared that Vincent and Bo (who you realized were twins) killed people but you knew there was nothing to do about it. You just stayed away from it and ignored the pleads and groans you’d sometimes hear late at night.

You began to form an attachment to Vincent, wanting to hang out with him more. Sometimes you’d go into his workshop and talk until you got to sweaty or tired. You would give light touches to him and wouldn’t even notice until you thought about before going to bed. You liked how he wanted to talk for you, you never forced him, wanting to accommodate both of you, you had found an old ASL book on one of the many Sinclair bookshelves in the house and decided to learn how to sign basic things.

Vincent was good at hiding things, you couldn’t tell at all but he fell so hard for you when he saw you that first day and his feelings grew stronger as the months passed. Vincent wanted you around him all of the time but was happy when yo I weren’t around him, it meant that he puked draw you. One day he planned on giving you all of the artwork he had made of you. Whenever he could figure out how to even confess to liking you.

He even tried to have a talk to Bo about it. Bo made it seem too easy.

“I mean ya just take her somewhere nice and say it. I know we don’t get out there much, just take her to that field down the road. Have a nice picnic and confess.” Bo had explained to Vincent.

That was a week ago. Vincent planned on asking her tonight, where he got the balls to do it he didn’t know.

Vincent walks through the hall trying to be silent to hear where you were.

You sat in the room with the pool table, humming and practicing your signing. He walks in slowly and goes to sit down in the chair that’s next to yours. You look up and smile at him.

“Hey!” You smile and carefully shut the book, setting it on the end table between the two chairs.

“Hi, I want ask you something.” Vincent signs, your full attention is on him. Neither of you realize it but both of your stomachs are going flips.

“What is it?”

“You, Me, picnic go tomorrow?”

You almost don’t catch everything. Your chest almost bursts into butterflies.

“Yes! Let’s do it!”

-

Vincent and you packed food in an old picnic basket his family had since him and his brothers were little. Then it was put in the fridge and you had said goodnight to Vincent, hugging him tightly.

He tried to sleep that night but his body opted for pacing around his workshop instead.

Vincent had carefully taken out every drawing and water color painting he had done of you and placed them in a folder. He went upstairs and Bo was rummaging through the kitchen. Vincent took out the basket and placed the folder at the bottom of the basket and placed it back in the fridge.

Bo was smirking at Vincent when he had closed the fridge.

“Look at you… All grown up. Little brother is going out in a date.” Bo wipes a fake tear.

“Same age shithead.” Vincent signs, squinting at his brother. Bo laughs.

“Hey I am happy for you though.” Bo smiles and pats Vincent on the shoulder before leaving the kitchen.

-

The sun feels great on your skin as you run up ahead of Vincent and through the field to find a spot. The plaid blanket in your hands spreads out as you throw it in the air. Vincent isn’t far behind, taking his time to look at you and bask in your beauty.

Vincent sets the basket down and unpacks all of the food.

He freezes.

You look over at him. “What’s up?”

“Mask I don’t want take off.” Vincent huffs. You tilt your head.

“You don’t have to. But if you’re insecure about something underneath it that’s okay. I get insecure about stuff too. I’m sure you’re handsome underneath it.” You smile and look down grabbing at the container of strawberries to open. You let out a small flustered laugh. “Sorry I hope that wasn’t too much pressure.”

Vincent shakes his head.

“Oh! Why don’t I turn around, then you can take your mask off and we’ll eat. If you want me to turn around at any moment I will.”

You turn around and Vincent unpacks the rest of the snacks. You don’t hear or see anything but Vincent takes off his mask and sets it in the grass.

You hear him taking deep breaths.

Silence.

Then he touches your shoulder, “You can turn around.”

When you see Vincent’s face your heart almost explodes. He’s so handsome, his face is pale but cheeks are red from the heat of the sun, his hair frames his face beautifully. Your date tries to look away.

You lean in and kiss his cheek.

“Hi Vincent.”

“Hi.”

You brush his soft hair from his face to get a better look at him. “You’re so handsome.” You smile and lean in again to kiss his cheek.

Vincent chuckles nervously and pulls out a strawberry. “You’re beautiful.” He says, bringing the strawberry to your lips. You take a bite out of it and he sets the leafy parts to give to Jonsey later.

You two talk and eat for who knows how long, you start to pack up your things so you two can lay on the blanket when some papers catch your eye. You furrow your brows and take them out.

“What’re these?” You ask holding up artwork of you. Vincent blushes and fumbles with his hands.

“Somethin’- I uh.” He coughs. “Wanted to give to you. You’re a very good er- reference?”

You look down and take in every drawing and painting. Some are of you smiling, others you’re focused. You look at all the bright colors he uses around you, the highlights of your face. Your eyes meet Vincent’s. “I love it. Thank you so much.” You say, you put the containers back in the basket and set the drawing in there too.

It’s late in the day, probably 3 or 4 and you let out a content sigh before moving closer to Vincent. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, you bury your face in his neck. “I appreciate everything Vincent. You mean so much to me.”

Your hand should his face, you kiss his cheek again, then he takes it a step further. Vincent leans down and kisses your lips deeply. He wraps his arms around your body and lays you down onto the soft blanket. When you two let go you see a smile on his face and smile back.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Vince.”

He kisses your jawline and trails down your neck, moving both sleeves of your dress downwards and off your arms. You unbutton his button down shirt tracing little marks on his body.

Vincent kisses your breasts then takes a nipple in his mouth sucking on it, you arch your back and he slides down the dress so it it’s around your waist. His thumb flicks over your other nipple. Tingles shoot through your body. That same hand moves to your panties he tugs them down without issue.

Vincent caresses your mound and kisses it before licking a stripe up your folds. You let out a small whimper, he smirks up at you. Your hands run through his hair.

“Don’t be a tease cone on now.” You whine. He lets an airy chuckle out and buries his face in your pussy. Vincent holds your shaky legs, sucking and licking your clit.

You let out loud moans, not caring if anyone comes up to find you and Vincent. You try and get more friction by grinding yourself against his face, and the artist takes it as a sign to not stop.

Loud vulgar noises are heard from both of you. Your eyes roll back and you cry into the spring air, orgasm taking over you.

You lightly push him off and he sits up before leaning over you and kissing you gently. You hum softly, licking and tasting yourself on him.

Vincent undoes his belt, and pants and slides them down, you let go and look at his cock blushing at how long and thick it is.

“Are you okay?” He asks, index finger tilting your face up. His face is red. Vincent is absolutely freaking out. You scrunch your nose as you smile and nod.

“Yeah, just nervous.”

Vincent nods. “Me too.”

Vincent moves your hips so they’re on his knees and positions his cock towards your entrance.

He pushes in slowly, the stretch almost too much for you. You grab for his hand and watch his face contort.

“You’re so big..” you moan, he groans and buries his face into your neck. His hands come to rest on your hips, pushing in more and more. Soft groans come from his chest. Vincent stops and kisses up and down your chest and neck. Licking and biting your shoulder.

“Tell me when you’re ready.”

“M’ ready.”

Your date pulls back then snaps his hips in you, fucking in and out of you roughly. Your eyes roll back, pornographic moans come from your mouth. Vincent’s chest rumbles and he pants letting out little moans himself.

Your cunt pulses at his noises, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his long black hair.

“God Vincent. You’re so perfect-Fuck. How’d I- ugh! End up with someone like you.” You moan as he thrusts into you. You feel his cock twitch and roll your hips into him.

His hand reaches between you two, starting to circle your clit. Your eyes get wide and hips buck up. Drool comes from your mouth, he licks it up and rubs your clit faster.

“Shit Vince! M’ gonna cum. Fuck!” The knot in your stomach tighten as he pulls you closer to the edge. Your body grind into his, mouth wide open, letting out moans.

Your cunt pulses around him, the knot breaking, white flashes in your vision and you squeal, riding out your orgasm in his cock.

Vincent pulls out and wraps his hand around his cock jerking himself off. You watch with tired eyes as he comes undone. Spurting all over your stomach and breasts. Vincent pants, you take your finger, wiping up some of the cum and licking it. Vincent blushes, he grabs some paper towels from the basket and cleans you off before pulling your dress back up and straightening himself out.

The man falls onto the blanket and grabs you wrapping his arms around you.

“I enjoyed this. I think we should do it more.” You say, yawning.

Vincent nods on agreement and kisses your head.

“So you want to be with me?” He asks, after a beat of silence. You smile, feeling flustered all over again.

“I do.”

[gothgril69]

Levi Ackerman/Fem!Reader Royalty!AU

Summary: You dream of another life, a simpler one under the rays of the warm sun, where you find love and your brothers live happily.

But you're destined to serve, to be the black sheep of the family and married off to whoever your father pleases because your parents can't seem to harbor any love for you. Your brothers will serve in the war, side by side with their Chevaliers, and you'll be left to pick up the pieces or die trying.

And the one you thought always hated you, will be right by your side to catch you when you fall.

Overall Warnings: themes of sexism, minor character death, angst, depression, minor character death, smut (please check ao3 for all tags)

Chapter warnings: none

Chapter Length: 9.5k

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ao3 link

Notes:

Thank you so much for starting a fic of mine <3 There's a few things I wanted to say before you get started.

-Reader has a default name of Aeron Reader. It plays into the story and that is why this is tagged appropriately as Levi/OC, but it is written in second person and all details relating to the female mc/reader are very vague. I do try to account for different hair types/skin tones and therefore leave it vague on purpose. -This is loosely based on 18th century conflict between France, England, and Scotland. Mirlenas represents France, Kaslogon represents England, and Navarre Scotland. There are historical accuracies but also inaccuracies for creative freedom regarding certain things. -I have been sitting on this fic since October 2022, and am just now posting it because I am way too hard on myself

I hope you enjoy <3 gothgril

Your parents always wanted another boy.

Your older brothers, Auguste and Theo, were the kingdom’s prized heirs to the throne, certain to fill your ancestors shoes to the fullest. You were supposed to be like them; supposed to be another boy that would marry and extend the family tree of royalty for the kingdom of Mirlenas. 

Your mother carried you the same as your brothers; tummy hanging low, heartburn, unbelievable back pain. How could you not have been a boy? Your name was picked out for you and everything. All the midwives were prepared to have another boy and decorated your nursery with calming blues and greys to match the kingdom’s colours.

But out came you. A healthy baby girl, bright eyes and a full head of hair. It wasn’t that your parents were unhappy – no, they loved you regardless at the time – they just weren’t prepared. Your name was Aeron, the name picked out for you when they thought you’d be a boy, and you were the new child of the Reader family. 

Aeron Reader has an ominous feel to it, the name of the same Goddess of War that comes from stories in your mother’s forgotten origin. Your parents never realized until one day one of the maids was overheard gossiping about it. Overheard hushed whispers about you circulated around the castle.

You were seven years old at the time and not happy about it. You’ve done all the research now about her origin and reputation – you quite like her.

Your mother simply chose to ignore her own heritage of Druvaria ever since she married your father. A deal had been struck between kingdoms and your mother fell victim to becoming the new Queen of Mirlenas, her own father giving her away to make peace between nations. The war had been ongoing for five years and needed to come to an end and finally, someone had come to their senses to offer up the princess of Druvaria in trade for peace. She didn’t know any better, simply believing it was the right thing to do for her nation and had no other choice. 

Things did work out in her favor in the end. Your parents fell in love with each other before they even married and mated, telling you the story at least once a year over dinner about it. A bite to the nape of the neck only sealed their fate and ensured they would be mated for life. You’re happy for them, truly, but you know you weren’t a part of their plans.

It was supposed to be three healthy boys, and you felt the seclusion.

Ever since a young age you wanted to be like your brothers, refusing to wear the dresses your handmaidens sewed for you and playing in the grass instead. You distinctly remember being seven years old, covered in grass stains while your mother yelled at you from the courtyard in front of the castle. You had just finished wrestling with Theo, face shoved into the dirt and hair completely disheveled. You could never beat him even though he was only two years older than you – you just didn’t have the strength yet. 

You remember your mother’s voice ringing out into the air, “I didn’t have a girl just for you to act like a boy!”

Seems like you can’t do anything right.

You pushed Theo off, angry that he had beaten you again and upset about your mother’s words. Defiance pulsed through you and you only wanted to be less ladylike in spite of her. You had stuck your tongue out at Theo as he did the same to you, Auguste coming over to break the two of you apart before you were tempted to lunge for his throat again. Auguste always seemed to be the voice of reason, calming Theo down with just a look before he’d look down at you with soft brown eyes, his curly brown locks falling slightly in front of them.

Perhaps you shouldn’t choose favorites, but Auguste always had this way about him. He was kind and charming even in his younger years before diplomacy truly got to him. Everyone loved him and he seemed to always know what to say, even sitting in on adult conversations despite his young age. He always knew what to say to make even you feel better.

He had sent Theo away to your mother and grabbed your hand, kneeling down to you so he was eye level. “Theo is just a brat sometimes. Don’t let him get to you, kid,” he had told you with a quick ruffle to your hair. He stood up, making sure he was still holding your hand to walk you inside to clean up. He was already thirteen at the time and strong enough to pick you up, so he’d lift you on top of the private bathroom counter that was located in his room. A soft wet rag would be wiped along your cheeks and nose to clean off the dirt that Theo graced upon your features – a gentle tap of your nose would indicate when he was done and you could jump down.

When you were eight Auguste promised he’d teach you all the things he knew: fencing, archery, horse riding, knife throwing, swordsmanship and even some of the studies Auguste was learning in school. You would do your duties as a princess during the day, pleasing your mother by learning your manners and all things women should know (sewing, cleaning, cooking, botany) and during the evening after dinner you would train with your brother. Occasionally, Theo would join and actually be quite tolerable – that’s where your relationship with him truly started to grow. He’d be serious and want to know everything Auguste did, trying his best to be patient with you as you learned and he would train with Auguste during your own breaks.

When your mother first caught you with them she was livid, claiming that your behavior was “boyish and unflattering” and something along the lines of you being “a disgraceful princess.” You’re almost positive there was more, but your brain has blocked out most of the memory of being talked down to so harshly by one of your parental figures. It’s not like you and your father talked much – he only really entertained Auguste to make sure he was prepared to take the throne one day. You envied Auguste in a way, but you could never hate him for being the golden child. He didn’t choose that life and quite frankly, it must be hard on him as well to carry that burden.

Your life truly changed when an extravagant ceremony was held for a new Chevalier that would be in the castle. The large hall designated for events had Mirlenas’ banners strung high above the grand windows, shrouding most of the light that would enter. Expensive chandeliers were lit, light fixtures along the walls providing warm light to envelop the area. Rows upon rows of people sat and waited for the entrance of the new Chevalier while you sat at the very front of the room. Your mother and father sat in their large wing-back chairs while you and Theo sat on your mother’s left side. Of course, you were given the smallest chair out of everyone. Auguste waited patiently for the entrance of the Chevalier, waiting to make his own appearance to complete the ceremony.

Your brother Auguste was of age to join the kingdom’s military at seventeen and should be accompanied by someone of a higher skill level than him. The one thing you didn’t expect was it to be a fifteen year old boy who looked like he would rather be anywhere else than bowing in front of your parents. You didn’t blame him, you hated all the formal bullshit too.

You had begun daydreaming when his name was announced, only coming to your senses when Theo bumped you so you wouldn’t get chastised later by your mother. The boy was wearing Mirlenas’ colours, navy blue and silver, and was being awarded a broche with the family crest to grace his uniform over his heart. A symbol of his dedication to the kingdom; a set of wings over a shield. The Chevalier formal uniform was tailored to him specifically: a navy blue tailcoat over a grey collared shirt with a white cravat hanging around his neck. You remember when he stood up from bowing to your parents and his piercing grey eyes landed on yours as you sat next to them, a slight furrow of his brows happening in an instant before his sharp features were stoic once again. 

You kept your eyes on him when he looked away, analyzing him with a tilted head. You told yourself it was to make sure Auguste would have a proper Chevalier accompanying him, but there was something intriguing about him. His raven black hair was well kept, straight hair layered so most of it fell out of the small tie at the nape of his neck

“Dedicate your heart to not only my kingdom, but my son as well,” your father’s voice had droned on. You refrained from rolling your eyes at the formality of it all, knowing Auguste would never treat his Chevalier as less than him despite your father training him to do so. You had instead fidgeted with your thumbs, messing with the lace on the dress you were forced to wear for the event until your mother gave you one of her looks. The look that told you you’d be getting in trouble later for simply being a young girl with energy that prevented you from staying still at such a boring festivity.

You realized the boy was quite short when Auguste stood next to him, maybe a couple inches taller than you at your age at the time. You hadn’t quite hit puberty yet afterall, your courses hadn’t come yet and your mother seemed adamant about ignoring the inevitable anyway.

You didn’t figure out the boy’s name until days later when Auguste introduced you to him. “Name’s Levi,” he had told you in a bored tone. Your eleven year old self was eager to meet him until he had scoffed at your name. “What is that? A boy’s name?”

You’ve disliked him ever since.

Levi remembers seeing you that day, having no idea the royal family even consisted of a princess along with the other two princes. You were only eleven at the time, but it seemed as if your family was ashamed to have you on display. You were given the smallest chair at the end of the line of royalty, a dress that didn’t look as well sewn as your brother’s uniforms fell on your shoulders. You looked curious, which had intrigued Levi at the time, but incredibly sad in your eyes. He said the first thing that came to mind when Auguste introduced him to you. It was odd for a lady of royal standing to have such a gender neutral name, bordering on masculine, and he didn’t think you would be so offended. He noticed right away you weren’t like other princesses he had met when he noticed you were wearing trousers, stains all over you and hair sticking in every direction.

He had looked at you with such disdain when he saw the grass stains on your trousers or the dirt that was under your nails from wrestling with Theo just moments before. You never acted like a princess and Levi clearly hated that, always on your ass about not acting like a lady and getting so dirty he could “clean the stables and feel better than being next to you.” He’d plug his nose and mock gag at you to emphasize his point when Auguste wasn’t around.

You didn’t truly start to hate him until a boy named Furlan came around as Theo’s Chevalier. He was the same age as Theo, seventeen at the time, while you were fifteen. Your new handmaiden, Isabel, had arrived at the same time as him and quickly became your best friend, but you grew jealous when she became a part of your brother’s friend group consisting of Levi and Furlan as well. You were once again the outcast no matter how hard Isabel tried to get you to join. And you did try at some point, only to be made fun of by Theo and Levi while Isabel and Furlan shyly watched on. 

You didn’t blame them. Levi was hard to argue with and Theo was royalty, even if he was just your stupid brother. Auguste was busy training to be the next heir, constantly under your father’s watch and unable to mediate childish arguments between you and your brother anymore.

Luckily, Levi wasn’t around as often as the other three were since he was Auguste’s Chevalier. He would accompany him on any personal affairs or duties he needed to fulfill off of the castle grounds. 

Those were your moments of somewhat peace; when your mother would busy Theo with a task and you’d have a chance to spend time with Furlan and Isabel alone. Isabel was only twelve and being taught the proper ways of being a handmaiden, but during her free time she’d make sure you weren’t alone. Furlan ended up just following suit, keeping a watchful eye on Isabel, even though he had always been closer to Levi.

She tended to get herself into trouble, always wanting to bring animals into the home before your mother caught her one day. You had taken the fall for Isabel bringing in an injured dove, enduring the lecture about how “vile” these “creatures” could be. You helped Isabel tend to it’s wing and nursed it back to health before releasing it from your balcony without your mother’s knowledge.

When you were seventeen you started to stay in your room more, only coming out to train your skills in combat. Your mother had given up at this point on trying to make you a lady. You were always wearing trousers paired with at least a corset over your blouse to keep your “womanly figure” as your mother called it. You didn’t give a shit about it, but if you could at least wear trousers then you would do it to spare you from the pain of ridiculous skirts and dresses while you were on castle grounds.

Painting and reading became your new hobbies and you soon only really started to see Isabel when she visited your bedroom. 

You were tired of being berated just for existing.

At the time, Levi had secretly missed your presence. He enjoyed picking on you and getting a reaction, sometimes doing it to push your buttons so far that you would yell at him. Isabel would always scold him as if she were his senior, telling him he’s being too harsh on you. You were just such a brat, always picking a fight with him if he didn’t do it first. When you were gone and holed away in your room he felt like there was a presence missing, but he blamed it on being bored while Auguste was busy with your father.

Your large room was lined with bookcases, shelves full with books you’ve read countless times. A few easels were scattered about, a painting resting on each so you could alternate what you were working on while the oils dried on the other two. You had taken down the large navy blue curtains, ripping them down one day to get all of the natural light possible inside of your room and shoving them into a confused handmaiden’s arms in the hallway. You’re positive your mother didn’t know what you did and still doesn’t, probably unaware of the curtain rods that no longer perch above your windows since she never visits your bedroom. 

She doesn’t talk to you much. Only Auguste and Isabel know you paint.

Your navy blue blanket and grey sheets hardly ever got any use despite the comfortability of the silk. You wanted to rip down the harrateen that surrounded the four poster bed, but it was too much of a hassle if you weren’t even going to use it. You were never tired, only needing a few hours of sleep to function in your teen years. You’d tend to the fireplace while your mind would always be full of creative ideas, needing to spill them onto a canvas before they would be forgotten.

Auguste tried to get you to come out of your shell more, always asking you at dinner if you would join him for a walk around the castle grounds. Those were your favorite moments. The moments where you could talk to Auguste about anything you needed to, whether that was simply an idea for a painting you had or something more heavy like the way your mom was. He always tried to make you feel better, saying things like “you know mother loves you in her own way” or “father is just busy being king.” 

When you told him about how your father had told you to never cry and show weakness when he caught you crying on the rare occasion that he sees you in the halls, Auguste comforted you without making excuses for him. “Father is incapable of human emotion. Everyone cries. Cry if you feel you must,” he had told you, grasping your shoulders to ensure you absorbed every word he said as you stared into those big brown eyes you love so much. Those were the only words that had ever truly made you feel better about your parents.

Things in your life didn’t take another turn until you were twenty. You were a grown woman and done with being kept to your room in fear of being talked down to by family members. You began taking your training more seriously, practically begging Auguste to train you again after dinner instead of going on your walks. He obliged and soon you were exceeding at everything, being especially good at archery. A bow just felt so natural in your hands – you could practically shoot with your eyes closed.

At age twenty-six he still wasn’t married – quite a taboo concept considering your father’s growing age. Auguste didn’t want to marry for duty, he always wanted to marry for love. You had a suspicion he didn’t admire women in the same way as other men – not that you would ever tell a soul. You simply enjoyed that he had more free time than he was supposed to and that he chose to spend it with you.

When you won against him in a fencing match is when you knew you had surpassed his expectations. The look on his face when he took off his mask told you everything you needed to know: he was proud of you. You remember being so happy, tears formed in your eyes before you could stop them, and you ran at your brother, colliding with him in a giant bear hug with full force. Auguste had taken you into your arms and swung you around like you were his whole world – he made you feel like you truly were. 

Theo joined in after cheering, causing both him and Auguste to practically absorb you. Levi had been on the sidelines judging the match and you heard his scoff when you won. You were too excited to care at the time.

You were forced to spend more time with Levi when Auguste grew inevitably more busy. Theo had fallen behind in his training and would have private lessons with Furlan. Isabel was kept busy by the older handmaidens, tending to laundry and kitchen duties, leaving you with Levi. You refused to stay locked up in your room unless you were willingly painting or reading, but even now you preferred reading in the gardens so you could get some sunlight on your skin, even if only for a little while.

Auguste had tasked Levi with looking after you while he wasn’t around despite your – and Levi’s – protests. You insisted you were a grown woman and didn’t need someone to watch over you like a lost puppy – Levi just didn’t want to deal with the inevitable attitude that was thrown his way just for being there.

But he wasn’t simply just there. He would make fun of you for your book choices; if something got in your hair and you weren’t aware of it. He had at least given up on getting on your ass about acting like a lady – if anything he seemed to prefer it rather than you fretting about dresses and “frilly things” as he calls them.

“I just can’t pretend to care when they talk to me about how expensive their dresses are or how they bought the best perfume being made right now,” he had droned on to you one evening. Somehow, you had gotten on the topic of the ball that was held a few weeks prior. He was forced to attend with Auguste and “forced” to entertain women even younger than you that were fawning over him and your brother. 

You had actually laughed and sympathized with him, sharing your own stories about disgusting older men trying to win your affections. He had cringed when you exaggerated the ugliness of a stout older gentleman with a gut that hung over his belt – the buttons of his shirt were hanging on for dear life.

The man had flirted with you incessantly, hardly ever straying from your side the whole night even as you attempted to excuse yourself – he always found a way to be next to you. You laughed it off, telling Levi it was just the usual for a woman of high status whether you liked it or not. He didn’t say anything that time, only a look of what you think was anger flashed in his eyes before he looked away with a quiet “tch.”

Levi had seen the wretched old man the whole night, ogling you and grimy hands inches away from touching you. He wanted to rip his fingers off for attempting to touch a member of the royal family like that and gouge his eyes out with the nearest fork for staring at you like a piece of meat. He told himself he would only be doing his job protecting a member of the royal family. 

Levi had kept a watchful eye on you the whole night, watching you fake laugh at people’s jokes with a smile that never reached your eyes. He had never heard your real laugh before, and he could imagine it wouldn’t sound anything close to the small, half-hearted chuckles you gave out. The only time he ever saw you smile was when you were reading one of your stupid novels or daydreaming without realizing it before something snapped you back to reality.

You had actually felt pretty that night in a dress that was tailored just for you. You had convinced Isabel to go with your wishes of it being simple and less extravagant than your mother’s requests, so when you put it on it felt more appropriate for you. She had been in your bedroom for a whole day taking measurements to alter a gown you already liked a decent amount, asking what you wanted changed about it. 

The day of she stood behind you, tugging on the laces of your corset to practically squeeze the life out of you, claiming she needed you to look perfect so your mother wouldn’t have her head. You even had your other handmaidens run you a hot bath with a sachet of lavender from the southern coast of your country.

You’ve made it a habit to bathe with lavender and have lavender oil around to calm your senses, leaving your skin smelling like the flower.

You were now twenty-three. Living the life of royalty that many would dream of.

You weren’t ungrateful for it – you knew how bad the lower class people of the kingdom had it – but you never asked for it. You never asked to be unloved by your parents, watching as your two older brothers received all of the attention. You never asked to be showered in fine silks and paraded around in dresses like you were some animal being put on display for purchase. 

You wanted to run away, to live a simple life somewhere in the countryside. You’d make your living using the trades your mother had taught you at a young age. You could protect yourself with the combat skills Auguste had fine-tuned until he could no longer be your teacher. You knew botany and how to grow your own food; live off the land.

You were tired of feeling unwanted by everyone around you. You hardly felt okay anymore, eating only because Isabel forced you to and wouldn’t leave until your plate was empty. You would maybe complete a painting or two once a year now and tea was the only thing you could stomach for breakfast. The only thing that kept you here was your cowardice and getting lost in the stories you read. It could be romances or history, even war stories caught your eye sometimes, but it was something to escape to. Your mind would be occupied by something other than your heavy thoughts that weighed you down, allowing at least some respite. 

You wonder if living a simple life would have allowed for you to flourish the way you were supposed to, or maybe if you lived in one of your novels and found love then you could be happy.

But things could never be that simple.

Levi watches you now as you stare off into the distance with that usual faraway look on your features. You’re sitting on a blanket you had sloppily thrown on the ground, one of your knees brushing against the grass and defeating the purpose of the piece of fabric below you. It bothered Levi more than he would care to admit when you did things like this, only committing to them half-heartedly. The forming grass stain glares at him.

He hated being out here with you. It was boring and typically hot in the summer months like it is now, but at least you had chosen the biggest oak tree to find reprieve from the sun’s rays. He simply leaned against the trunk of the tree, observing you when you were busy daydreaming. When you would snap out of it the air would be full of bickering again and he found peace in the silence. 

You were wearing your usual black trousers and corset over a blouse, but sat as if you were wearing a skirt. Your hair was pulled back with a ribbon, but some rogue strands fought themselves free and blew in the wind and he fought the urge to either chastise you for it or just fix it himself since you couldn’t do it right.

You perplexed him still, even when the two of you had matured and Levi was now twenty-seven. It was less childish insults and more clever banter between the two of you now. You actually seemed to enjoy wearing dresses on occasion now that your figure suited them and he was even able to smell a hint of lavender oil on your skin whenever the two of you were forced to be too close. You had become a woman, but sometimes Levi still felt like he was looking at the neglected little girl he had first seen at his introductory ceremony.

Your eyes were the same sad ones he had seen that day and you still tended to fidget with the hem of your clothing whenever you were anxious. A genuine smile rarely makes it’s way to your features and he swears he’s only heard you genuinely laugh once with Auguste when he had trailed behind one of your evening walks. He almost pities you until he remembers how easy you truly have it.

You had no idea what it was like to grow up in poverty, never knowing when your next meal was or taking any article of clothing you could because it was the only option. No, you were picky about the clothes you wore and the things you ate and always took them for granted. 

You were selfish, making Auguste worry about you all the time and borderline obsessively commanding Levi to make sure you were okay. He would do as he was told, of course, but you never realized how much turmoil you caused in your brother’s mind. Even Theo worries about you now that he’s matured and no longer finds amusement in ruffling your feathers.

The only thing he can understand about you is how big of assholes your parents are and how most of the time he feels the same way you do in their presence: neglected and frowned upon.

Your father commands Levi as if he were a dog while your mother chooses to ignore his presence altogether. He could admit that maybe you weren’t as bad as your parents – he’s watched them throw away untouched food because it had gotten cold (their own fault of course). The first time he had seen it happen he had to bite his tongue, holding back the onslaught of curses and insults he had ready to throw at them. As much as Levi hated them, he never wanted to go back to the slums he grew up in, knowing your father would never do anything to solve the problem. The amount of people in poverty would continue to grow and he could only hope your brother Auguste would do something to change the state of the kingdom once he becomes king.

Levi pulls himself out of his own thoughts when a harsh gust of wind strikes him to remind you about the evening’s events. 

“Oi,” Levi snaps his fingers in front of your face. You look up at him, clearly dazed from being pulled out of your daydream and into the real world where you sit on the grass. 

The day is bright and sunny as you sit under the cooling shade of the ancient oak tree that sits in the front lawn of the castle, a giant stretch of grass as far as you can see separating you from the rest of Mirlenas. The castle sits on 800 hectares and you enjoy being able to escape the bustling interior of the castle in favor of sitting on the lawn. Your book is open on your lap, but abandoned long ago in favor of daydreaming. You hardly remember what you got lost in thought about.

“Your mother has summoned you,” Levi reminds you. Of course. Your mother and her tendencies to summon you whenever she is in a particularly bad mood, annoys you – going back to your bedroom and painting until the moon is high in the sky sounds significantly more appealing.

You sigh and ignore his outstretched hand, knowing he’s only offering it because of his Chevalier status. He would never willingly touch you – he’s told you as much. Levi scoffs, muttering something along the lines of, “fine, I didn’t want to touch your hand anyway.” You don’t bite back with a response, done with the day already and not looking forward to entertaining your mother’s ridiculous ideas.

“What could she possibly want tonight?” you mostly muse to yourself as you fold up your blanket.

Levi, who follows closely behind, responds, “who knows. Swear she’s growing senile with her old age.”

You stifle a laugh, unwilling to give him the satisfaction, but pleased with his words about your mother. He says things about your father too, but only ever around you. Levi seems to be the only one that recognizes their behavior towards you – or lack thereof – and often criticizes them. You, of course, allow it and he knows it amuses you. However, you and Levi are still not remotely friends, still arguing and often ridiculing each other. The only bonding you have ever done with the man is regarding your positions in the royal family, finding everything to be unnecessary and cretinous. Everything else between the two of you is short and angry, much like the Chevalier that follows you now.

Auguste has been occupied with politics and diplomacy for the past year, giving Levi the order to keep watch on you as he becomes even more busy. It’s something the two of you were already quite accustomed to since he had given the order three years ago when you were twenty. It still isn’t any easier to have him around so often. Bickering is more common than not and he beats you at anything you ask him to do. Except for archery – you’re almost certain no one can beat you at that and you relish in the face Levi makes when you split your arrow on the target almost every time.

But Auguste had insisted Levi stuck by your side now that he couldn’t spend as much time with you. Especially now that a war had broken out between your kingdom and a neighboring nation: Kaslogon. The war had started a year ago, but it barely made a dent in Mirlenas’ forces – not enough for Levi to be sent away to serve as part of the royal guard. Your allies, the country Navarre, were taking most of the heat for it since they resided on the same landmass as Kaslogon – Mirlenas at least had an ocean separating the two countries.

This meant that your father needed to pull Auguste everywhere he went, showing him the ropes of how to wage a war – a seemingly favorite pastime for egotistical men. You missed your evening walks and training sessions, having to force Levi to accompany you outside after dinner.

You hoped this meeting was to simply discuss the current standings of the war. Your mother seemed to over exaggerate with her statements or letters, once summoning you to discuss “dire circumstances” – the castle had just run out of her favorite persimmons and she wouldn’t be able to get anymore until the next winter harvest. It was moments like these when you remembered how absurd it felt to be a part of a royal family that didn’t know anything different. Levi always referred to the lot of you as “spoiled brats.”

He wasn’t wrong, but you would never admit that to him.

“You have a grass stain on your trousers,” Levi informs you with a blank tone.

“Lovely,” you sigh, “I’m sure mother will enjoy it.”

“It’s sloppy.”

“It’s fine.”

You already know your mother will be waiting for you in the dining room after the table has been cleared post-supper. You never bothered to join anymore, finding the comfort of being outside until late evening more enticing instead and having Isabel bring you dinner to your bedroom so you can enjoy her company. She may force you to eat when you don’t want to, but you appreciate her all the same. 

Levi always gives you shit for it, telling you it’s disgusting to eat in a place meant for sleeping, but you usually ignore those statements from him. You’re not going to waste your breath to tell him you have a small table on your balcony that you eat your meals at – he wouldn’t understand.

You walk across the grass, your blanket under your arm and Levi following two steps behind you like he’s been taught. “You know it feels like you’re going to murder me when you walk behind me,” you scoff. 

“You’re not worth getting hanged for murder,” he mutters. “If I walk next to you and your father sees I’ll only be reprimanded. Plus, you smell.”

You roll your eyes even though he can’t see. “Please, I smell worlds better than you ever do.”

“Now you’re a liar?”

“Honest as ever,” you reply smoothly, lifting your chin ever so slightly.

Your boots touch the dirt road that runs parallel with the front of the castle, crossing it to reach the gravel pathway that leads to the entrance. It’s all very grand compared to it’s surroundings on the outside of it’s gates, an elaborate garden with perfectly trimmed hedges greeting you once the guards open the gate for you. 

You always make sure to give them a sweet smile, greeting them by name – Jean and Marco. Jean’s mother is a handmaiden while you believe Marco’s family lives somewhere in a nearby village. They’re sweet boys, at least five years younger than you, but as soon as they see Levi they seem to stand taller than before and look straight ahead. You hate when it happens and always turn your head to see him glaring daggers at the two boys. He gives you a small “tch” today when he sees your glare being directed at him again.

The gates close behind you and you grow impatient. “Please, just walk next to me. You’re making me uncomfortable.” 

“I expect you to take the fall for it then if your father sees,” Levi scoffs as he joins you at your side. 

“As if I don’t with everything else,” you mutter. He doesn’t respond.

You observe that he’s acting more cordial with you today for some reason and it’s throwing you off balance. You’d rather him bicker with you, not the silence that seems to drape over the two of you more often today.

You step towards the grand, bifurcated staircase in front of you with far too many steps – eighty-six, to be exact, and it feels like it takes a lifetime to walk up them. You’ve counted the pale stones too many times, having nothing better to do on some of your outings. 

“twenty-seven…” you mutter under your breath as you walk.

“Are you fucking counting them?” Levi asks incredulously, not minding his language – not that he ever does – since the two of you are practically alone.

“Does it matter?” you snap, looking over at him with a glare. You lost count.

“There’s eighty-six,” he mumbles, seemingly realizing what he said only after it’s come out. You don’t bother to tease him about it, simply enjoying the pink tint to his ears with a small laugh as he looks down at the steps.

The front doors of the castle are opened by another set of guards, Connie and Sasha, and you give the young kids a smile as well. They were definitely bickering before you arrived, seemingly nervous about getting caught by Levi next to you when they stand up straighter. Connie’s eyes are wide and Sasha’s brown locks are slightly disheveled in her updo. You roll your eyes at the sight, but at least he doesn’t say anything to them today about being “more aware of their surroundings” like he usually would. Perhaps he got the hint earlier with Jean and Marco.

You greet the handmaiden standing by the doorway, giving her your blanket to be washed free of any lingering grass and returned on top of your bed before turning down a hall. Levi is still walking next to you, practically escorting you to the dining hall despite being inside the castle walls. “You don’t need to walk me there,” you tell him, eager to free him of his post and rid of his presence. You don’t need another walking headache with you when you visit your mother – one is enough.

“Auguste is joining you and your mother. I’ll be accompanying him afterwards.”

You pause your footsteps, boots slightly squeaking against the polished parquet floors. “What does Auguste have to do with this?”

Levi stops a step ahead of you, turning so he’s at least facing you. “They have news for you,” his voice trails off, laced with hesitancy as he turns his head to the side and avoids your look of confusion. “It’s not my place to tell you, madame.”

You scoff at his formality as a servant walks by. “Don’t call me that,” you grumble as you resume your walk to the dining hall. He knows you hate the use of your titles.

Your heart is racing at the prospect of bad news. Levi didn’t hide his feelings about the topic very well. The slight wrinkle between his brows, or the subtle downturn of his lips when he thinks he isn’t letting his frown show give you all the signs you needed. When you were younger you used to think the man had no emotions besides annoying little shit and anger, but the more time you spent with him the more you had to learn how to read him. If you didn’t, how else were you going to survive the arrangement Auguste had so kindly forced upon you.

“I have to, brat,” Levi whispers when no one is around.

You reach the grand white doors, their edges trimmed in silver to show off the kingdom’s wealth, and look over at him with a glare. He simply opens one of the large doors for you, bowing as you enter to please the woman sitting at the head of the dining table before closing it behind you and taking his post at the entrance. You almost rather wish you were outside with Levi’s company instead of enduring whatever this was about to be.

You spot Auguste sitting in the chair closest to your mother, patiently waiting for you to sit next to him. Your feet feel frozen in place, unable to move in fear of the discussion that was waiting for you. Your mother never had Auguste accompany her in the lectures she gave you, always knowing he would take your side and defend you. The discussion had to be serious for his presence to be pertinent.

“Please, Aeron, take a seat,” Auguste requests. Only then, when you hear his soothing voice, do you move towards the long banquet table that hosts far too many chairs to be actually useful. Your boots echo throughout the entire room as the two sit in silence, your corset shifting slightly as you walk. Everything feels incredibly uncomfortable now, the fabric sticking to your skin in all of the wrong ways, the layer of dirt that seems to have settled on your skin after being outside now unbearable. Even the grass stain on your knee is bothering you more than it normally would under their watchful eyes.

Auguste stands to pull your chair out from the table as you make your way over, pushing it in gently as you sit down so you’re close enough to the stained oak wood in front of you. You feel like you can’t breathe this close, but it’s proper, and Auguste did it for you, so you would simply have to endure.

“Your pants are stained,” your mother chastises.

“Mother, please. This is not what we are here to discuss,” Auguste interrupts before the arguing and onslaught of insults can begin from you.

“Fine,” your mother yields. She crosses her arms and waves a flimsy arm at your brother. “Why don’t you inform her of what’s to come then.”

The room’s silence is deafening in the moments before your brother resumes his speaking. You’re fidgeting with the top of your trousers on your thighs, pulling the fabric between your thumb and index finger in attempts to calm your nerves, but nothing is working. It feels like ages before Auguste’s voice fills the room, delivering news you never wanted to hear, but knew your whole life was a possibility. You don’t hear the words that come after, only focusing on a small phrase.

“I’ll be joining the frontlines.”

Your heart feels like it’s in your throat as your mother attempts at speaking nonsense to you. You’re not listening – you can’t. The first thing you do is peel your eyes away from the wood in front of you and look over at Levi. He’s looking at the ground, eyebrows furrowed and an evident frown on his face. You know that look – he’s upset, angry even. You can’t quite pin an underlying emotion that lies on his features as well. Sadness, you think.

“Aeron,” Auguste’s voice tears your eyes away from Levi and onto him.

You know how you must look right now; glistening eyes wide, lips parted in shock. The world around you slowly pieces itself back together as you stare into those soft brown eyes. You focus on a lock of hair that’s fallen over his forehead, a small curl that seems too stubborn to stay in place.

“I won’t be alone,” he provides, as if that would make you feel any better, “Levi will be accompanying me and you know he’s the best Chevalier in our kingdom.” You scoff, knowing Levi is needing to use all of his restraint to not roll his eyes. “I’ll be accompanied by father, Theo, and Furlan as well. Do not fret while I am gone.”

For the first time since joining this conversation, clarity strikes your mind. “Theo? You’re having Theo go with you?!” You’re practically yelling now, standing up from your chair and taking a step back. Auguste is quick to follow, a frightened look on his face from the quick escalation in conversation.

“I told you she couldn’t handle this,” your mother supplies unhelpfully from behind him.

Auguste doesn’t spare her a glance, eyes purely focused on you. Levi has stepped away from the door, almost as if he’s afraid that you’ll hurt your brother and ready to spring into action. It just makes you more angry. “Theo can’t go.” Your palms rest against your temples, trying to press some sort of sense into this whole mess.

“It’s his duty, Aeron. You would be going too if you were…” His voice trails off.

“If I was a man, I know,” you snap at him. “I would be more useful than even Theo on the battlefield and you’re well aware of it.”

“He’s gotten more training since you’ve last had a match with him,” Auguste tries. “Furlan will be with him. Levi is more than capable of guarding the two of us. He’ll be protected.”

“This is fucking absurd!”

“Watch your tone young lady!” your mother shouts, now rising out of her own seat. You wish you could slap some sense into her, you wish she wasn’t here in this room while tears threaten to spill over.

You’re terrified. You trust Auguste to make it back to you, he’s trained and capable, but Theo has never been skilled in any combat. You think he takes after the creativity that seems to flow through your bloodline. Auguste was always miserable at the arts, but Theo knew how to play almost any instrument. 

He was the best at piano, sometimes playing in his bedroom when he thought no one was awake into the late hours of the night. You always heard him, the sounds echoing through the halls and making their way through the cracks in your doorway or if both of you had your balcony doors open. 

He was never meant for war.

You watch as the tears finally overflow and fall down onto the floor below you, almost landing onto the leather of your boots. Auguste lets go of all restraints holding him back, allowing himself to rush forwards and allow you to collapse into his arms. You never wanted any of this. You would do anything to not see them leave you behind with just your mother. 

You bury your face into his chest, gripping at the hem of his coat that lays on his shoulders unbuttoned. Tears stain the fabric, but you know he couldn’t care less right now, only rubbing soothing circles in between your shoulder blades. Whispers of “it’ll be okay” and promises he knows he shouldn’t be making float down into your ears. He kisses the top of your head when you pull back enough to look up at him and into his brown eyes.

“You better make it back to me,” you choke out with your index finger poking into his sternum. “Y-you have to.”

“I will, I promise.” Auguste pushes a stray hair from your forehead and wipes his calloused thumbs on your cheeks to rid the tears that have trailed down your skin. He’s a little rough with his touch, but you would never have it any other way. You love your brothers dearly.

The loud slam of the doors to the dining hall pull your gaze away from Auguste as your mother takes her leave without a single word. You watch as Levi turns back around after releasing the handle, leaving just the three of you in the room.

You bid your goodbyes to Auguste, but not before he tells you to visit Theo in his room and asking Levi to escort you to your own. You tell him you’ll visit Theo tomorrow right after dinner, that way you don’t interrupt his evening activities that you assume involve some sort of instrument.

Two sets of boots echo in the halls, the sun long forgotten in the sky and the torches on the walls illuminating your steps. Your gaze is focused down at your feet, absorbing all of the information that was just given to you in such a short amount of time. You almost wish Levi had warned you about it, but he was right – it wasn’t his place – and you probably would’ve lost your mind without someone to comfort you. Auguste was the perfect person to do it.

“Oi,” Levi whispers, “you passed your room.”

You stop, turning around to see Levi standing by your door with a hand on the handle, ready to open it for you. You realize why he has been uncharacteristically nice to you today, treating you like he actually cares about the way you feel and knowing how you would probably react to the news. You walk towards him, footsteps slightly shuffling as you do.

“Levi,” you whisper when you get in front of him, gaze coming up just to look him in the eyes. You see him noticeably stiffen at the sound of his name leaving your lips – a rare occurrence if it’s not followed, or prefaced, by an insult in a snarky tone.

No, your voice is soft. You sound scared and as Levi looks at you now he feels a hint of remorse, like he’s the one at fault for the situation at hand. He wants to promise that he won’t let anything happen to your brothers, or to Furlan for that matter, but he knows better than to make promises he might not be able to keep unlike Auguste. His duty has always been to protect the members of the royal family and he has always taken that job seriously. He wants to tell you he will do all that he can on the battlefield to ensure their safety – hell, he would risk his own life if he has to if it meant everyone else would come back alive.

Instead, he whispers a quiet, “what,” his voice sounding softer than usual.

You notice his eyes are grey, something you’ve never seen or cared to look at. You tend to avoid being this close to him or even looking at him really, always too focused on something else to give his features any attention. “You have to promise me something,” you say quietly once you have your thoughts gathered.

“You know I can’t do that, brat.”

“All of you need to make it back here,” you tell him, pointing that same index finger at him that had touched Auguste’s chest before. “I’ll never forgive you if something happens to my brothers.”

Levi’s breath hitches, unsure of what to say to such a heavy demand. Of course, he would do anything for them. “I can’t promise you anything,” he whispers back, “but I’ll try.”

“Good,” is all you say before heading into your chambers and closing the door in Levi’s face.

Levi stands there, staring at the painted grey wood in front of him. He tries not to think about how you said the word “all”, as if you cared about whether or not he made it back alive too.

—

Theo is in the courtyard by the time you get ready, casually strolling with the company of Furlan. You hate to interrupt, but it’s the one moment you have before he’s busy for the rest of the evening and you still haven’t seen him since Auguste told you they’re leaving.

Levi is trailing behind you like usual since Auguste is busy in meetings with your father – they’re never ending it seems. You fight the urge to tell him to just walk next to you again, but the man is stubborn and will maintain his respectful position in front of your brothers. It’s only when you’re alone that he breaks the ridiculously strict set of rules your father imposes on him.

“Sister,” Theo greets you with surprise when he sees you strolling up to him.

You give him a small smile. You told yourself you’d remain strong throughout this interaction, but your emotions are slowly starting to peek through before you’ve even begun.

“Hello. Furlan, Levi, would you two mind sparing us some privacy?” you kindly ask them, mostly directing your eyes and voice towards Furlan.

He gives you a smile and small bow, excusing himself as Levi does the same – without the smile of course. “We’ll be close by,” Furlan reassures you.

You give him a small smile and nod, gesturing for Theo to join you on a walk through the front gardens. He offers his arm to you like a gentleman and you accept, intertwining your arm with his so your hand rests on his forearm as the two of you begin your stroll.

“Remember when we wrestled here instead of this,” you give a small laugh, awkwardly skirting around the real topic of conversation.

“When you ate dirt and grass? I’m quite familiar with the memory, yes,” he teases you, offering a small smirk of amusement.

You playfully slap his shoulder with your other hand. “I knew you were waiting for a moment to rub that in my face.”

“How could I not?” Theo muses, “you were quite the brat when you were little.”

“Well this brat kicked your ass eventually.”

Theo let’s out a genuine laugh. “Don’t let mother hear you speaking that way.”

“She’s heard much worse from me,” you grimace.

“I suppose she has.”

There’s a long moment of silence when you’re not sure what to say. You know he knows why you’re here; to express your reluctance to let him join your eldest brother on the battlefield.

“Theo–”

“Aeron–”

The two of you speak at the same time, coming to an abrupt stop in front of the chrysanthemums in the garden. You release your hold on his arm as you both face each other and the look of sorrow on his face tells you everything you need to know.

You hold back your tears, managing to get a few words out without breaking quite yet. “Please.” You gesture towards him gently.

He grabs both of your hands, a habit of both his and Auguste’s that they seem to think helps soothe you. “I know I never say it, but I do love you Aeron.” He lets out a heavy sigh, carrying on with a guilty look on his face. “I have to do my duty. It would be unfair for me to be the only one to stay no matter how much I wish I could be here with you.”

“You’re not ready for this, Theo.” You gently shake his hands. “Your training isn’t at that level yet. If I can surpass you, you’re not ready.”

Theo scoffs at this, his eyebrows furrowing. “You’ve surpassed even Auguste. Only Levi is your competition and even then the man could never come close to your archery skills. You’re a born fighter. I’ll never be ready with those expectations.”

“Then I’ll go in your stead. I’ll convince mother and father–”

“That’s nonsense, Aeron!” Theo’s voice raises as he releases his hold on your hands. “I could never live with myself if you went and something happened to you, but you’re a woman anyway. You can’t.”

“That’s ridiculous and you know it!”

“I don’t make the rules,” Theo sighs, running a hand over his features in distress. His voice softens, regarding you with such sympathy in his green eyes. “I’ll be there for Auguste and I truly hope I make it back to you. I’ll do everything within my power to do so. Please, trust us.”

“I do trust you Theo,” you choke out, tears already beginning to spill over and trail down your cheeks. “It’s not about trust. I just need you to make it back to me. You can’t leave me.”

“When I come back I’ll play you a song on the piano,” he reassures before pausing, seemingly thinking something through. “It was going to be a surprise for you, but you’re a stubborn woman,” he teases affectionately.

This gets a laugh out of you as you swipe the tears off your cheeks with your fingers. You break your composure further, pulling Theo into an embrace as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close with your face hidden in his shoulder. His arms embrace you, hands holding you close between your shoulder blades. 

“I can’t wait.” Your voice sounds muffled in the fabric of his coat.

[oh-shtars]

Bonjour, good day, I come with more questions~

1. What Disney character do you think most inspired each character in your rewrite?

2. More Rani loreeee

3. Does Rani have star magic? Although feel free to skip this as it might spoil your ending with Sueño

4. Does Hopes & Dreams have any other pet names for each other?

5. If Ashueño is similar to a genderbent Rapunzel, what dynamic is the royal couple like?

6. What trope best fits Hopes & Dreams? What about the royal couple?

7. Do you have any scrapped ideas you want to share?

8. Are the other character’s wishes important to the story?

9. What Hazbin character is each RFTS!character like?

Oh wow-

I get so happy whenever you guys leave asks and stuff like this. Thanks so much! 🥺💖💖 LOVE YA BO!

If y’all ever send me an ask and I haven’t answered it yet, please know I’m not ignoring you. I either don’t know how to answer it yet or I’m too busy atm. (Especially with exams coming up. Ew.)

(Looking at this, I feel more guilty the more they stay there. 😅 But hey! At least you can look forward to more content, right?)

Anyways, Onto the asks!

1. What Disney character do you think most inspired each character in your rewrite?

I remember doing this one post as a little fun game for everyone to share 3 characters that inspired their main characters. But since you asked for just one and it has to be a Disney character, guess I’ll do that.

You can visit the post if you want to see mine and other AUs’ participation.

Asha = Belle (Beauty and the Beast)

Sueño = Aladdin

Magnifico = Hades (Hercules)

Amaya = Zarina (Tinkerbell: The Pirate Fairy)

Valentino = Younger Simba (The Lion King)

(I don’t have a solid personality for the 7 teens since they’re not going to have as big of a role. I do have their key traits in my notes so I can look back to it as a guide. But I’m just going to go with the flow when writing their scenes.)

……..

2. More Rani Loreeeeee

I haven’t even finished a final outline for the main plot of the RFTS!story, so idk even for a sequel. Maybe I’ll do some random drawings of family bonding moments and just him being a precious little guy.

(Hypothetically speaking, IF both Asha and Sueño survive the tragedy I’ll inflict on them. I mean what- who said that?)

All I know for Rani is that he’s someone who’s not sure what is the one thing he’s passionate for. And in this kingdom where everyone is so sure what they want and striving to achieve it, he feels lost. Surely, people only have one passion, right? Why can’t he find and settle for one?

Whenever he finds something he could be passionate about, Rani feels icky at the thought of just permanently sticking to it from now on. But at the same time, he criticises himself for being ‘irresponsible and indecisive.’

He “longs” to know his place and know what he wishes to do exactly. Rani doesn’t like being told, “But you’re so talented!!” because he personally thinks it’s unhelpful. It doesn’t make his choice of picking one passion any easier.

He also doesn’t really like vague answers to his questions and gets frustrated with it. “Believe in yourself.” “You’ll get there.” “Keep going!” “You’ll know it when you feel it.” “I don’t know what you’re aspiring to do, but I bet you’ll do great.” Well guess what? He doesn’t know what he’s doing either. :D

Also: *G A S P*. Not a strong believer of Wishing stars nor looking to the sky for answers! 😱 Rani prefers to “see-it-to-believe-it.” A more down to earth person who wants real solutions, not just hoping for something to magically happen.

(Some stuff might change but here’s an overview of Rani just like you asked- :))

…………

3. Does Rani have star magic?

Ehhhhh, I’ll say he has general knowledge in magic and just about anything he finds interesting and gets his hands on. Not really star magic, though he has the skill of a fast-learner when learning about regular magic. Again, Rani’s existence may or may not be hypothetical. 🤷

………

4. Does Hopes & Dreams have any other pet names for each other?

Sueño is not really one for pet names since he adores Asha just as she is, including her name. But in his head and through the sign language he eventually learns, he does sometimes call her: “Love or My Sky”

(I love “My Sky” so much because it FITS him. He loves the feeling of freedom and is claustrophobic. So he’s basically saying he feels so free and happy to be around her. Also, *coughs* Bo. “Sky”. My Sky. “Cielo”. Amirite? This was unintentional, I swear-)

For Asha, she calls Sueño: “Starlight, Mi Sueño (this is her fav one ofc), Sunny (though this is more general), Hon/Honey.”

For the last one, I have a silly headcanon that Sueño comes to have honey as one of his fav foods. It sort of rhymes with his other nickname, “Sunny,” and Asha thinks it’s hilarious to tease him with the “honey” nickname when he gets all sticky.

Idk why I even came up with this, but the thought that he’ll eat anything, even food he usually doesn’t like, that is dipped in honey on it is just funny, okay? And it connects to Hal too since I remember she’s meant to be a beekeeper. (This may also be a cute little reference with Winnie the Pooh if Sueño shapeshifts. Hehehe)

Btw, stars can taste but not go hungry. Like how they touch and feel stuff but not feel pain when inflicted or hit by something. If it’s dark magic, then that’s the only exception and they can feel pain.

…….

5. If Ashueño is similar to a genderbent Rapunzel, what dynamic is the royal couple like?

Idk actually. I made Amnifico or ‘Grand Despair’ from scratch without referring or getting inspired by any couple I know. It’s mostly songs and vibes I’ve collected to create their dynamic. Same with Ashueño. The Rapunzel similarity was not intentional. 😅

(I think you should be worried because my RFTS!Spotify playlist has lots of angst- lol.)

Uhhhhhhh, maybe Grand Despair can be something akin to Charity and P.T Barnum from the Greatest Showman. But darker and eviler.

A guy who promises something for his beloved, gets carried away, and eventually forgetting what this was all for in the first place. :3

……

6. What trope best fits Hopes and Dreams? What about the royal couple?

Hopes and Dreams:

“Soulmates/Fate” (I think we can all agree that these two are meant to be, either platonically or romantically, in any universe both AU and Canon.)

👏 SLOW 👏 BURN👏 (That pang of realisation always gets me)

Thinks she’s no one special x Treats her like royalty

Grand Despair:

Doomed Romance

Pissy x Only one who calms him down

”Us against the World”

……….

7. Do you have any scrapped ideas you want to share?

Not anything that wouldn’t spoil some stuff for the plot. Sorry 😞

……

8. Are the other characters’ wishes important to the story?

Hmmmmm. I guess they influence the narrative and further establish the conflict of the story.

Like, the characters are used to just taking the easy way to achieve their dreams by waiting for the day Magnifico grants them one morning. They can make as much as they want. Unbeknownst to them, they’re stuck in this cycle of always wanting more but never satisfied.

They keep wishing and wishing, believing that they have no chance of reaching it on their own without their king’s help.

I’d like the main theme to be: not being afraid to dream big and “Reach for the Stars” but you shouldn’t expect grand things to just come to you instantly. You’ll need to take faith and work for it. Why? Because the whole journey getting there, regardless of the many struggles, is worth it and it sure is something to look back and be proud of.

It sure is what Walt Disney did, isn’t it? :)

……..

9. What Hazbin character is each RFTS!character like?

It’s kind of difficult to pick from the Hazbin cast what each RFTS!character is like since one plot is based off of dreams and everything nice while the other is literally based in hell. 😂

But I’ll try:

Asha:

Emily was the closest I could think of. (Since I literally couldn’t think of anyone else. Oof-) Not really referring to the happy, excited part of her. More like the “I believe these people deserve a lot better than this” and eventually finding her voice to stand up against authority for the people she cares about.

Sueño:

No, not the aggressive and assertive side of Vaggie. Lol nope. More like getting attached to the MC that helped them get back onto their feet, warmly welcomed them in this strange new world, and now they would do anything to help them get their dreams come true whatever it takes.

(Also, a secret they’re keeping that’s eating them up inside with guilt and constantly worrying that the MC would hate their guts if they knew. Oops-)

Magnifico:

I’d say the fake-ass showmanship he puts out in public but in reality, he’s really done and exhausted with his audience. He’s still pretty charismatic when he wants to be but I can see him losing his cool quite easily, leading to outbursts.

Amaya:

Idkkkk. The main cast of Hazbin don’t really fit RFTS!Amaya’s vibe so I just went with Lilith despite how we know nothing about her at the moment. (This is probs gonna age badly-)

She’s a parental figure to someone who trusts her a lot but in reality, her motivations might not be what they seem. She could be willing to sacrifice other people if it means she gets a benefit out of them.

[flilisskywalker]

This is a Mandalorian season 3 finale rant (There might be cursing because I need to vent my frustrations)

Yeah, I really hated the season 3 finale of Mando. It’s the most boring, uninspired poorly directed, written and edited Star Wars in a fucking while. Easily the worst episode of Star Wars television as a fucking whole to me

what the fuck happened 

It's sad because I was enjoying this season, but holy shit, for a show that was always good because of its emotional beats, they sure missed a lot of them (Unless your name is Grogu, of course, ops. Din Grogu urghhhhhh).  It was so fucking emotionless and fucking anticlimatic.

I have to be honest

I don't care that much about Grogu. “But the show is about him.” He is not the main relationship that Din has in this season! That is Bo-Katan. It's ridiculous how these characters have grown close to each other since the Mines and the writer finds the most emotionless way to reunite them again and split them again and the director just doesn't extract fabulous performances of them as well and the editing just chooses the most uninspired shots. 

It fucking bothers me the most is that this show is so concerned with what's coming next that they are forgetting what makes Star Wars so fucking cool: The relationships. Bo-Katan and Din have been saving each other's asses, sharing different perspectives to each other, swearing loyalty and they don't even get a goodbye scene.

“Maybe because they are not saying goodbye.” 

BULLSHIT. 

It's like you get The Force Awakens with Rey and Finn becoming friends, but without the moment that solidifies the bond from Rey’s part, which is when she says: "We'll see each other again. I believe that. Thank you, my friend." Was it so difficult to have them aknowledging the journey they went through together before they went separate ways? I just don’t get it how you miss such a simple and obvious emotional beat like this. 

It doesn’t fucking stop there. Of course.

Bo-Katan does not seem happy at all when she lights up that Forge. Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm. I WONDER WHY. Could it because a fucking tin man who promised to serve her until her life was over is not fucking there? And people will say “You’re delusional.” No. This woman was flirting with him two episodes ago, she’s been looking at him since the Mines in a way that she does not look at any other Mandalorian (and you all can deny it however you want, but the way Katee is directed in those scenes just don’t lie) and they just make him go away. 

You fucking with me? You gotta be fucking with me. 

And you think that’s all? 

Hmm. Not really. 

Ragnar loses his father, who was also clearly the Armorer's favorite son and there’s no reaction, no aknowledgement of his death. Instead we got a whole "take the creed" scene, like, godamnit, have some fucking compassion for crying out loud. 

Moff Gideon destroying the darksaber is so awful. It doesn't work as a symbolism because he wanted that thing. It should've been Bo-Katan who destroyed it and that would pay off Din's line about the sword not being what determines who she is as a leader. 

Oh and Gideon dies, but not really because we know characters don’t really die in explosions in Star Wars and it’s so. fucking. ridiculous. What a moment this would be if this kill belonged to Bo-Katan. Because... I don’t know, the whole season is about her. 

*takes a deep breath* 

I fucking hated this episode. 

*takes another deep breath* 

Wake me up when Din and Bo are a duo again and they are allowed to have their romance. 

This finale was so not the fucking Way. 

Not even in Star Wars TV. Probably easily my most hated piece of a Star Wars media. “You are a Rise of Skywalker enjoyer.” I AM. Because you know, for all its flaws, at least that films understand emotional bits and this finale just doesn’t.

[exouniverse]

The Ultimate Party Planner/Partner

Pairing: chanyeol x gn reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship, shared birthday.

Warnings: none (but if you find anything, please let me know)

Summary: As you two share your birthday, Chanyeol and you make a playful bet—who can throw the best party for the other? With the help of the EXO crew, the competition is on. But as your care for one another makes your relationship reach new heights, you prove some bonds are stronger than any challenge.

Word count: 8,8K+

A/N: Ah it feels a tiny bit overwhelming to have posted this fic too late, but as I was saying… my life is a little chaotic right now with so many events and projects coming. I also couldn’t shorten the story so I had to keep writing until it felt right, and here it is now. But I’m so happy with the result, so yay! I had so much fun writing it. Happy (late) birthday Chanyeol!

Divider credit to @k1ssyoursister

MASTERLIST | MOODBOARD

Chanyeol was easily lost in thought whenever you laughed. Your smile and laugh only brighten his days, lifting his spirits like a sunny morning after days of unstoppable rain. He had tried to deduce why so many times now, but it was hard to define. All he knew was that he wanted to witness it and be the cause of it as much as possible.

A voice called his name, sadly breaking his daydreaming about you. The voice came from Baekhyun; he had that signature smirk that usually meant he would drag him into some sort of mischief. “Earth to Yeol, come in, Yeol!” Baekhyun chuckled, snapping his fingers in front of Chanyeol’s face. “You back? Back me up, please, huh?”

“No, don’t!” Your voice pulled him in, and he smiled back at you.

“What’s going on? Should I back you up?” he asked you, making Baekhyun groan.

“You’re lost, Chanyeol-ah! If you back Y/N up, you’ll lose.”

You laughed again, and he was almost hypnotized, but Baekhyun looped an arm around his shoulders. “It’s true!” he exclaimed at you. “Don’t be cheeky, Y/N! He planned the best party of the year, right, Chanyeol-ah? I know that ‘cause it was mine.”

Chanyeol blinked in confusion; your laughter was still ringing in his ears, the melodic sound echoing in his mind. “Best party this year?” He wondered what the two of you could be talking about.

“I’m just saying, Jongdae’s party was so good that people still talk about it. I get calls from your friends asking for the DJ’s number and where to get the cake I bought for the party, and the venue has had a boost in bookings.”

Baekhyun almost accepted his defeat as Chanyeol became lost in you; he rolled his eyes dramatically and groaned loudly beside him. “Please, Yeol, I know you’re hopeless when it comes to Y/N, but try to keep up.” He smacked Chanyeol’s back, making him huff in pain.

“As I was saying,” Baekhyun continued, shooting you a playful glare. “I was telling Y/N here that you are the best party planner I know, but then this cheeky one here is claiming the title.”

“I can do better; I have done better, as stated earlier,” you kept teasing.

Chanyeol’s brow furrowed as the pieces slowly came together. Baekhyun was right in advocating for him, but you were only challenging the both of them. His competitive spark ignited as the cheeky grin on your lovely lips heightened his devious mind.

“Is that so?” He addressed you directly now, his eyes full of amusement, matching your cheekiness. He shifted in his seat, already plotting the best bet for you. “Jongdae’s party was legendary; I give you that. You helped enhance it a lot, but if you think you can outdo me, you’ll have to prove it,” he taunted with a mischievous wink.

You offered a daring smile; this bet was on. You would never back down from a challenge, and it intrigued you to know what he was plotting in his mind.

“Whose birthday is next?” Chanyeol asked Baekhyun, still holding your gaze.

Baekhyun attempted to check his calendar, but he quickly deduced the answer. “Yours, both of you,” he revealed. Baekhyun was enjoying it too much; at least his friends weren’t too cheesy about their budding relationship, and he could have fun with them.

“Oh, what a coincidence!” Chanyeol exclaimed, tilting his head to the side.

A knowing smile spread across your lips as comprehension dawned. "Double coincidence," you agreed, breaking eye contact shyly. Chanyeol found the action unbearably cute and almost faltered along with you.

Before you could give everything away, you looked at Baekhyun. "You might end up calling me to plan your party next year after all," you teased, confidence undimmed.

Baekhyun laughed heartily at your bold statement. "This is going to be good,” he said as he started drumming his fingers on the table. "May the best party planner—and partner—win!"

Just then, the doorbell rang, making you all jump in surprise. All of you almost forgot you were expecting Jongdae to arrive. Baekhyun jumped from his seat. “Right, my house, I’ll go get that.” He strode off down the hall, leaving you two at the table amidst excited chatter over the party competition.

“Are you ready to lose, hotshot?” you exclaimed as you looked back into Chanyeol’s piercing look. “Wait till you see what I’ve got up my sleeve.”

“I know you better than anyone; prepare to have your mind blown away.” Chanyeol grinned, excitement buzzing through him at the challenge before them. But more than that, he has a chance to impress you—to see that beautiful smile light up for him. This was a challenge he fully intended to win.

A comfortable silence fell as you both speculated on each other's potential plans, sizing one another up. You'd always loved this competitive side of Chanyeol, this fiery spirit that refused to back down. It only made defeating him all the sweeter.

Soon enough, Baekhyun returned with Jongdae in tow, interrupting your stare-off. "Alright, lovebirds, break it up. Dae, you're just in time,” he playfully raised his eyebrows, creating anticipation.

“Why? What’s going on? Why are these two looking like they could set each other on fire?”

“They’re planning each other’s birthday party as a challenge.” As Baekhyun quickly filled Jongdae in, you shared a secret smile with Chanyeol, amused by the situation you got yourselves into because of both of your competitive natures.

“Another challenge?” Jongdae asked. “Weren’t you two challenging each other on Overwatch a couple of weeks ago?”

The two of you laughed, reminiscing about your late nights playing at his house. “I won!” Chanyeol exclaimed, punching the air.

“I’ll need a rematch soon, though,” you requested, smiling at Chanyeol and reaching for his hand.

“These two live for a challenge; just look at them. This is going to be epic.” Baekhyun nudged Jongdae.

“What is the prize?” Jongdae asked an interesting question, causing both of you to look at each other curiously.

Baekhyun was faster than you with his answer. “Bragging rights as the ultimate party mastermind?” he suggested.

Jongdae let out a low whistle. “High stakes. I can’t wait to see how this plays out.” He looked at Chanyeol. “You’d better bring your A-game. Y/N’s a fierce competitor.”

Chanyeol chuckled and squeezed your hand. “Oh, don’t you worry, I know this one like the back of my hand.” Turning to Jongdae and Baekhyun, he said, “alright, gentlemen, I’m gonna need all the help I can get if I want to truly wow our Y/N here. Who’s with me?”

“What?” You exclaimed. “Help?”

“Okay, fair play. I think we could raise the stakes even more. What do you say we open it up for the rest of the gang, have them choose sides?”

“Chanyeol,” you said too quickly before you comprehended his request. “Wait… I like how that sounds.”

Chanyeol chuckled at your flustered reaction, loving how easily he could rile you up without trying. Opening the competition up to the members was surely going to make it even more entertaining.

Leaning in close, Chanyeol dropped his voice into a playful whisper. “Don’t worry, jagiya, I’ll still go easy on you.”

You rolled your eyes, interlacing your fingers with his and squeezing tightly. “In your dreams. Just you wait, I’ll get the best on my team.”

Chanyeol only laughed at the lovely gleam in your eyes. “Guys, you’re with me, right?” He asked, looking back at his friends.

“You got it, Yeol!” Baekhyun shouted and went to encourage Chanyeol, massaging his shoulders a little too harshly and giving you an apologetic smile. You just giggled as you squinted at him, while Chanyeol frowned, trying to hide the pain from Baekhyun’s pressure on his shoulders.

Jongdae smiled sheepishly, hesitating. “We can assemble the teams tomorrow after our meeting,” he suggested, earning time to share his decision.

“Yah, Jongdae! How are you not joining me immediately?”

“Sorry Chanyeol-ah, I believe in Y/N’s fierceness,” Jongdae said as he offered a high-five your way.

Chanyeol chuckled good-naturedly as Jongdae sided with you, not surprised at his choice. Your competitive fire and passion for planning are unmatched, and you two have known each other long enough after all—it was no wonder he wanted to join your squad.

Still, it stung a little to lose one of his closest friends so early in the game. He turned on his best puppy-dog eyes, pouting playfully. “Dae, you wound me.”

You only grinned, giving Jongdae’s shoulder a proud pat. He chuckled and shrugged at Chanyeol. “I’ve always had a soft spot for this silly troublemaker here.”

You looked back at Jongdae, still not fully understanding his words. “I’m gonna try to take that as a compliment.”

Baekhyun smiled at his team leader with pride. “We’ve got this, Yeol. We’ll get the members on our side easily.”

Chuckling, he offered a thankful nod for the vote of confidence, but his focus remained on you. Your smile almost sent him into a trance again. This was sure to be epic, and somehow he knew that no matter who emerged victorious, the real win would be to keep on witnessing your happiness and celebrating one more milestone with you by his side—sharing his birthday date with you was so exciting.

You stared at the screen showing the floor numbers going up to Chanyeol’s apartment. The excitement built up with every change, and you almost jumped out of the elevator when the doors opened to his floor. Every step you took was even more confident and joyous as you walked down the hall, giddy with anticipation for the fun you will all have assigning the teams for the challenge.

Your heartbeats speeded up as you heard the door opening just after one press of the doorbell. Chanyeol must have been as eager as you to begin the selection and see you again.

His smile was so bright when his eyes met yours. You embraced him in a warm hug and searched for his gaze, planting a tender kiss on his lips.

“Aw the lovebirds are too cute.” You heard Jongin’s voice behind Chanyeol. He was carrying a bowl full of popcorn, stealing some before anyone could.

“Jongin!” You shouted, moving away from Chanyeol to wrap your arms around the loveliest of the members. You had missed him dearly and didn’t know he would come.

“Oh, careful, the popcorn!” Jongin exclaimed, chuckling. “Aw, it’s so nice to see you, Y/N,” he squeezed you back.

“I was replaced so quickly,” Chanyeol commented, looking at you with a pout, jokingly.

“No, just in time. Otherwise, I would call it all off, and I can’t let that happen; I need to win this,” you smiled mischievously.

Chanyeol recovered his smile and wrapped around you again, resting his head on your shoulder and offering Jongin a small cheeky grin.

“You two are also crazy,” Jongin giggled.

Minseok’s voice called you all to the living room. You grinned as you slipped into the soft slippers waiting by the door, always so thoughtful of Chanyeol. Interlacing your fingers with his, you pulled him eagerly into the living room—Jongin trailing behind you as he kept stealing popcorn.

The joyful chatter and laughter welcomed you, and your smile only grew at the familiar faces gathered there already.

You quickly made your rounds, greeting each member with a tight hug. It had been too long since you had seen them all together. The energy was soon filled with anticipation for whatever was coming their way.

Once you settled beside Chanyeol on the couch, you started, “well, I believe it’s time to announce the reason why we gathered you all here.”

“Yeah, I didn’t say much before our meeting,” Chanyeol continued. “Y/N and I are—“

“Getting married?” Baekhyun interrupted, throwing the obvious cheesy joke, but he still managed to surprise Junmyeon and Sehun. The former had a surprised yet alarmed look on his face, while the latter was pure confusion, possibly even hurt that his hyung didn’t tell him before everyone else.

Chanyeol shook his head, shooting Baekhyun a playful glare before continuing. “Not quite yet… though who knows what the future may hold…” He trailed off meaningfully, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You could feel the tips of your ears heating up at the implication; its meaning was not lost on you. You cleared your throat, regaining focus, as you recollected your thoughts to explain to the group the playful challenge that brought you all together that evening.

Gasps and cheers erupted at the revelation, drawing a small giggle from both of you. You knew you had chosen the right people for the task. Scanning their lively faces, you witnessed their spirited encouragement for you both. Your gaze then met Chanyeol's, his eyes twinkling with amusement and affection as he squeezed your hand in support of addressing the lively crowd. Though nerves fluttered at the challenge before you, his encouraging smile steadied your resolve to see this joyful contest through.

Chanyeol pulled you closer to peck your cheek once the members awaited for you two to start the recruiting. His mischievous mind was already plotting ways to convince the members to join him. “The winning team gets bragging rights until the next get-together. Possibly some other goods and favors during the planning. So what do you say—who wants a spot on the champion squad?” Chanyeol rallied.

It almost seemed like cheating because of how he talked too convincingly, so you nudged him, trying to tickle him and throw him off his game. He did bring some arms up and laughter from the rest of the members.

“Not fair using gifts to get them on your side; you cheat!” You accused him playfully.

Chanyeol was still laughing on mute with your tickling. He managed to grab your wrists, struggling to catch his breath between giggles. “All’s fair in love and party planning, jagi.” Those dazzling eyes of his seemed to sparkle even brighter with amusement.

You couldn’t help but melt a little at his smile. Leaning in, you pressed a swift peck to his lips before pulling back with a shy smile as you heard the members’ whistles and teasing cheers. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Park,” you whispered.

Sehun made a weird, puking sound. “Ugh, you two, my eyes hurt! I might need some new sunglasses if you want me on your team.”

You flashed him a playful grin. “Aw, I think Sehunnie is only sour ‘cause no one’s showing him any love,” you teased, earning some laughs from the other members.

He scoffed, feigning his usual cool disinterest, but it was almost evident that suppressed laughter was hiding behind his irritated gaze. You were the only person in the world that Chanyeol knew that could withstand teasing Sehun and emerge unscathed. He took a little advantage of this fact and drew you closer, casually draping his arm around your shoulder. With a mischievous gesture, he pressed a smacking kiss on your cheek, causing you to squeal and playfully swat him away.

“You’ll always be our favorite maknae,” Chanyeol declared cheerfully.

Sehun simply rolled his eyes, fighting a smile. “Yeah yeah, just save the PDA for later, you saps. I really want my new pair of Ray Bans… and celebrate you two,” he mumbled the last words, but the slight quiver at the corner of his mouth betrayed the levity he was trying so hard to conceal.

The members erupted into renewed laughter and chatter once more. With your guidance, the debates over team selections began soon enough. Baekhyun, already on Team Chanyeol, was trying to win Kyungsoo over to their side.

You nudged Jongdae, your partner in crime, and he sat down next to Kyungsoo, offering a fist bump. Hesitating at first, he looked between Baekhyun and Jongdae with a flustered smile. Kyungsoo looked back at you and then at Chanyeol, a smirk forming in his mouth. It was a battle of looks, but an important one if any of you wanted to secure the Ace member you two seemed to have thought of. With his incredible knowledge and skills with food, he was surely the member you would fight over in the most passionate way. The rest of the members couldn’t help but notice the gazing battle before them, expectantly waiting for the outcome.

Kyungsoo seemed to find out in that moment that he could be the MVP you two were looking for. He held his gaze with Chanyeol, but his smirk didn’t fade away as he responded to Jongdae’s fist bump request. “This is the winning team,” he decided. “I’m with Y/N all the way,” he said, looking back at you with an honest smile yet offering a mischievous wink.

A collective gasp rose at Kyungsoo’s declaration. You caught Chanyeol’s gaze with a smug grin, already envisioning the victory feast you would have in your hands with Kyungsoo on your team.

However, Chanyeol wasn’t giving up that easily. “C’mon, Kyungsoo-ya, with those skills of yours, you’ll be our real MVP. We’ll have a whole spread just for you.”

Kyungsoo was not that convinced yet, but it seemed his resolve did waver when Baekhyun began pleading unashamedly. “Please, please, please. You’ll have whatever you want. I won’t bother you in the least; you’ll have all the calm you—“

Amused with Baekhyun, you had to intervene, sliding in on Kyungsoo’s other side and resting your arm on his shoulders. “Don’t listen to their lies, Soo. You know I’ll treat you like the king you are, right, Jongdae?”

Your right-hand man chimed in effortlessly. “Only the finest ingredients and treatment for our Soo.”

The members were more than entertained by Kyungsoo’s recruiting between you and Chanyeol. A wholehearted chuckle rumbled from Kyungsoo’s chest as he patted your hand. “Flattery will get you anywhere, I see. Alright, consider me recruited for Team Y/N!”

Chanyeol shot a playful pout at you, which you returned with a wink. “Thank you, Soo! I promise you a sweet victory over those two.”

“Traitor!” Baekhyun crossed his arms theatrically. “You’ll pay for your betrayal with mediocre snacks.”

Kyungsoo simply raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “If you’re that worried, maybe you picked the wrong team.”

Laughter rose up at the cheeky retort. You simply beamed, already buzzing with plans and partnerships. With Kyungsoo secured, you only had a couple of key members left to convince.

You scanned the circle, looking for Junmyeon, who stood on the other side, observing the exchanges with fond amusement. But in that moment, Jongin caught your attention as he raised his hand to speak up. Chanyeol encouraged with a nod of his head, and everyone turned their focus towards him. “How will you know which party planner truly wins if the other ends up having the best party either way?”

A collective murmur of agreement resonated through the group. Jongin had a valid point, prompting you to share a meaningful look with Chanyeol as you pondered over the dilemma. He grinned suddenly. “I’ve got it! We can’t plan and ask for each other’s input or interference, so until our day, we reveal the parties simultaneously without seeing each other’s plans in advance.”

You snapped your fingers, reading his mind. “And we nominate an impartial judge to decide which event was better planned and executed overall. No bias from us at all.”

“They are so in sync, these two.” Baekhyun seemed to be in a full-on teasing mood, beaming at the shared love in your gazes.

“Baekhyun-ah, you’re going to make Sehun puke for real,” Chanyeol said between giggles.

“You two could seriously stop with the PDA though,” Sehun snarked, rolling his eyes while he hid a smile.

“They are cute though,” Minseok commented.

You took a deep breath to stop your laughter, thanks to their chatter. “Anyways, great catch, Jonginie. You might be team captain material after all.”

He ducked his head shyly, but his eyes shone with pride. A hush fell as all eyes turned expectantly back to you and Chanyeol.

“Then what do you say, Nini? Care to join my team?” Chanyeol asked.

Jongin gave it a small thought, looking between you two. “Yeah! Peer pressure and all,” he chuckled at Baekhyun’s crazy look directed at him.

Chanyeol’s smile shined bright. You beamed at him, letting him win this one. “Sorry, Y/N, but I promise to make sure you love your party. Count me as some kind of ally on the other side full of clowns.” Jongin offered you an apologetic bowl of popcorn.

“This is some type of scheme; look, Chanyeol!” Sehun said after witnessing Jongin whispering at you. Jongin just walked towards Chanyeol as he giggled.

“I take it you’re joining Chanyeol,” you assumed, playfully squinting at him.

“Well, the decision is really simple… you have a cool and fun advantage, but I really want those Ray Ban sunglasses, so I’ll remain loyal to Chanyeol hyung.”

Chanyeol’s eyes widened, almost regretting his bribing, but he was securing himself a fun team for the party planning. You darted your eyes back to Junmyeon and Minseok; there had to be a way to get both of them on your team.

Junmyeon still watched on serenely, taking in all of the energy, while Minseok conversed quietly with Kyungsoo. You were so proud of your team, sneakily drawing the best members to side with you. You focused on Junmyeon, flashing a charming smile. “Leader-nim, you haven’t committed to a team yet. Care to lend your impeccable taste and wisdom to Team Y/N?”

Chanyeol cut in swiftly. “Hyung hyung! You know you want to be where the fun is; just come over here!”

Junmyeon chuckled. “Both sides make compelling cases…” His eyes twinkled playfully.

Minseok spoke up suddenly. “I’m team Y/N! I’m convinced by your amazing recruiting skills, that can only translate into great leadership.” He winked in your direction, accompanied by a bright smile. “Also, you might need some muscle,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows as he playfully showed his biceps, only to shy away with a giggle.

You pouted, moved by his encouragement. “Thank you so much, Minseok! You’re the obvious wildcard with all of your talents.”

Chanyeol could only beam at the entire interaction. He really wanted his hyung on his team, but seeing how you managed to convince him, he just let it be. Witnessing how his friends accepted you was worth more than anything; the respect that Minseok’s words had for you was quite moving.

“Are you not pitching in, jagi?” you asked, and he simply shook his head. “Well, Junmyeon. You’re a package deal, right? Minseok chose Team Y/N; are you in too?” You held on to Jongdae’s arm, expecting the leader’s answer.

“Don’t forget about me, hyung! We got this, but we need our fearless leader.”

Junmyeon’s smile was unbreakable. “You two are meant for each other, no doubt, huh?” He looked at his hand, pondering for a little while, until he met your hopeful gaze with his signature calm. “I believe in Team Y/N.”

His words sparked elation among your already lively squad. He approached cautiously, but you enveloped him in a tight hug, feeling his quiet laughter rumble through his chest.

Pulling back, you searched for Chanyeol’s eyes across from you. He was so pure, smiling like that, radiating pride and joy. Crossing over to him, you extended a hand, which he delicately grasped, tugging you in as he wrapped his arms around you. You felt the soft wool of his sweater against your cheek, and his heartbeat resonated in your ears louder than the cheers from the members around you two.

Chanyeol's bright eyes crinkled into crescents as he tapped your back gently. "You pulled a great team together, congrats!" He giggled softly into your embrace before reluctantly letting go.

You met his shining gaze, getting lost in the warmth and affection reflected there. Leaning in, you pressed a swift kiss to his awaiting lips, eliciting whoops and hollers from the members watching on. As you broke apart, grinning like fools, his hands lingered on your arms a moment more before dropping away all too soon.

"May the best team win, Yeollie. I'll see you at the finish line!" With one last grin, you turned to rejoin your squad, heart soaring.

This challenge lit a new fire within you. With the inspiration of your team and Chanyeol's love and support behind you, there was no way you could lose. The party was sure to be one for the ages.

You and Chanyeol sat side by side under the dark blue sky; your crocheted blanket that he gifted you once when you were just catching feelings for him was over the two of you. Winter felt nearer every single night because of how cold the evenings were becoming, yet it occurred to you both to go out and see the city view from the rooftop of your apartment’s building, with Namsan Tower in the distance perfectly adjusted in the landscape.

Comfortable silence embraced you as you reflected on everything that brought you to this specific moment in time together. The past couple of days were surely fun to spend with his dear members. You had missed each other though, so you decided to have a night in to distract you from all the planning and dedicate time to each other.

Noticing your boyfriend’s pensive smile, your heart grew curious, but it also swelled at seeing him so serene. You were sure this was what you wanted to see every single moment—the genuine purpose that had driven you all along. Yet pride lingered too in all of the plans already set in motion and the efforts of beloved souls. To call off the challenge now seemed unfair when the group had already rallied; you realized that harmony can rule where care guides the way.

Next to you, Chanyeol marveled at your radiant glow, shining brighter than any festivity ever could. He let out a soft sigh, quiet but content. He felt reassured that the thoughts occupying his mind lately were the right choice to make.

The chill night air nipped at his fingers as he gazed over the city, but his heart felt warm and cozy under the blanket with you. So much has changed since the days when a glance from you sent his pulse racing; now your mere presence at his side brings calm. Turning, he took your hand in his, rubbing gently to warm it.

You peered at his thoughtful face, exquisitely brightened by the moonlight and the city lights. There was a calmness in his eyes that you were just now discovering, but it filled you up with so much reassurance.

“So Yixing called me today,” Chanyeol started, whispering.

You stopped his hand with a squeeze and searched for his eyes with a small giggle. “We’re not supposed to share any insights, jagi.”

He chuckled, pulling you closer in a warm embrace. “I’m not, I’m not. He just wanted to say that he would come and be the judge.”

“Oh you couldn’t recruit the gentle heart of his,” you giggled.

He gasped and squeezed you tighter. “Don’t tease me, or I’ll look for payback.”

“Like I can’t take it,” you said daringly.

Chanyeol’s look was filled with mischief. Wrapping both arms snugly around your waist, he pulled you closer still until your faces were mere inches apart. “Oh, you think you’re so tough, hm?” he chuckled, low and rumbling.

Your entire body felt lighter somehow, and the smile forming at the corner of your lips was so genuine. You leaned and nuzzled his nose, getting a nervous giggle out of him. He was truly enchanted by this lighthearted side of yours.

Gathering back his courage, he tightened his grip on you, causing you to squirm and burst into an uncontrollable fit of giggles. Your laughter proved infectious, and he eventually found himself lying down, clutching his belly. Following suit, you allowed yourself to collapse at his side, resting your head on his chest and basking in the warmth of his body and the melodic sound of his laughter.

As you gazed up at him, your eyes locked for a brief moment before you leaned in, bringing your lips together in a passionate kiss and indulging in a fleeting moment of fiery connection.

Breaking up the kiss, Chanyeol chuckled softly. “I have to leave; I don’t want to.”

It was impossible to hold back your laughter, knowing the feeling all too well. Reluctantly pulling yourself from his embrace, you took his hand and gazed into his eyes, alight with care and tenderness even when you knew he had to leave.

“Then don’t,” you whispered, a playful smile teasing at your lips.

He giggled in return, interlacing his long fingers with yours. “As much as I’d love to stay right here with you always, duty calls pretty early tomorrow morning.” He placed a quick kiss on your forehead. “But I will be counting the moments until I can see you again.”

When he allowed himself to be affectionate and lighthearted, you couldn't resist falling even more deeply for him. Standing up, you extended a hand to help Chanyeol rise to his feet, both of you reluctant to break contact just yet. He retrieved the blanket and guided you back indoors, never once releasing your hand.

Still filled with reluctance, you shared one last lingering kiss before parting ways. Closing the door of your apartment slowly, you couldn’t help but hope that he might change his mind and decide to stay. However, you knew that his care for you would remain, even when he was not physically there. Climbing into bed, a sense of contentment washed over you as you treasured the precious and much-needed moments of intimacy that you two had shared.

The next afternoon, you reunited with your team for the last in-person party planning meeting since they were all pretty busy with their work schedules.

The previous night had given you so much clearance about what you really wanted to do. The members had the best ideas, and you all had pre-planned some of them, so it was time to decide which one would take flight for the challenge and win that precious title. But your heart joined you slowly and changed your perspective.

It was Jongdae who noticed your pensiveness. Approaching carefully, he smiled at you. “Someone on your mind?” He whispered, aware of the echo that the meeting room he managed to get for you all created.

You chuckled silently, taking a look at the rest of your team busy on their notebooks and cellphones. “You could say so,” you whispered back at your friend.

“You know, Minseok and I managed to get in contact with a drone show service. We still don’t know if they would take it to the yacht party,” he chuckled, conscious of how all those words together sounded. Your team had some crazy ideas for sure, all for the fun of past full-on competitive brainstorming sessions.

Junmyeon walked towards you with a solution in mind for the games/gaming theme party idea you had between your options. “Y/N! My friend from the set design department has some chess pieces we can use for the decoration. They’re giant, wanna see—“

He also noticed the difference in your smile. “Have you decided on the 1 Billion Views theme?” he asked.

“Y/N’s gotten distracted by a little—not little, someone,” Jongdae taunted, projecting his voice to fill the entire room. The sound made Kyungsoo and Minseok look your way, eliciting affectionate coos and chuckles from them.

“Guys, it’s not—what you think, I mean…” you trailed off, giggling. “Come, let’s have a little chat,” you requested.

Minseok and Kyungsoo approached, sitting in front of you at the table. They waited patiently for you to continue while you peeked at their notes and yours, happy to have had the best party planning team on your side. You sighed, realizing there was something bigger calling at you from deep inside.

“I know I’ve delayed the decision a bit. I’ve thought about it a lot, and I think… I think it would be best to keep it a little simpler.” The look on their faces didn’t change much; they were still paying attention. If there was any surprise in their eyes, they knew how to hide it pretty well.

“I have loved our interaction as a team; I couldn’t ask for a better one. There’s just a little something, a little voice that has been telling me to not go crazy with Chanyeol’s party.”

“What do you want to do then, Y/N?” Minseok wondered, showing you a caring smile. The rest of the guys had the same look, showing their care.

“We will probably not win this, but I don’t want all of those flashy things for his party. I want Yeollie's day to reflect all the love and joy he's brought to our lives simply by being himself. His generous spirit, his caring heart—that's what's most deserving of honor.”

“I’m in,” Kyungsoo encouraged.

You smiled at him, and the others agreed to the change wholeheartedly. “Yixing will be the judge; you can still win this,” Minseok commented, making all of you chuckle.

In another meeting room within the building, Team Chanyeol was enthusiastically planning your party, fueled by Chanyeol’s infectious energy. This fun team had all the chemistry needed for the best rave anyone could ask for, but they had been changing plans since two weeks ago.

More bribery had been required to get Sehun to agree to Chanyeol’s change of heart, but he eventually came around and eagerly joined his hyung in orchestrating the most endearing and romantic surprise for you.

As the meeting came to a close, Chanyeol felt his heart near-bursting with gratitude for his amazing team. They shed the initial rave plans, but their eyes still brimmed with enthusiasm, now transformed into a deeper purpose.

"Alright guys, I think that about does it for now," he announced, beaming around at their eager faces. "We've put together something truly special that I know Y/N will love."

Baekhyun slung an arm around Chanyeol’s shoulder, grinning mischievously. "And maybe if we play our cards right, a certain someone will finally work up the courage to—"

Chanyeol cut him off with a playful punch, feeling his cheeks flush at the implication. But maybe, just maybe, he had a point buried in his teasing. This night could be about new beginnings as well as celebrating what has already blossomed so beautifully between you and him.

Sehun must have sensed his distraction, clearing his throat loudly. “So, are we telling Y/N about this change or keeping it a surprise?”

Smiling softly, he shook his head. “No need to tell. I want it to be a complete surprise when Y/N sees what we’ve done. This isn’t about winning or losing anymore; I just want it to be special for Y/N.”

“I knew this was going to happen,” Jongin commented with a knowing smile on his face. “He can’t help it! He sometimes lets Y/N win at their challenges.”

“I don’t—“ He tried to object, but he knew that he had done it before. But you are unstoppable and a great competitor.

His friends couldn’t resist teasing him. "Alright, fine, you got me," he laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I'll admit Y/N is a tough opponent, and it's hard not to go soft sometimes with that gorgeous grin."

Baekhyun snickered gleefully while Sehun pretended to gag, earning a playful shove from Chanyeol in return. But beneath the humor, a warm fondness swelled in his chest at the thought of you—your smile, your spirit, the way you somehow always made him want to be better.

Sobering slightly, he continued. "Seriously though, guys, Y/N means the world to me. This is about showing Y/N how much I care."

Jongin shot him a knowing wink and a thumbs up. Chanyeol grinned sheepishly, nerves and excitement dancing hand in hand at the prospect. Then, shaking himself back to the present, he clapped his hands decisively.

He beamed at his teammates, his heart filled with gratitude and love. "Now come on, boys, we've got a party to prepare!"

A sense of excitement coursed through both of you as you walked hand in hand down the hallway. You heard how Chanyeol took a deep breath and felt his fingers tenderly squeezing yours.

His eyes had shined so brightly when he looked at you earlier. He stumbled, and his jaw nearly hit the floor. You were proud of yourself to be able to keep making him flustered. You couldn’t talk much either, because when you caught a glimpse of him across the room, your breath caught in your throat and your eyes widened as you smiled wider.

Part of you wanted to just linger in that intimate bubble you had created together in the hallway, but another part wanted to see what surprise lay behind the party room doors. Chanyeol had that look—the one where his smile could only form crescents on his eyes. You knew whatever awaited you inside would be magical.

Nothing could have prepared you two for the astonishing scene that greeted you as you entered. The love and warmth that flooded the room nearly swept you off your feet. You were overwhelmed with gratitude for each cherished friend and family member who came to celebrate this special day with the both of you.

Reluctantly letting go of Chanyeol's hand, you made your way through the crowd, embracing everyone with hugs and smiles. Their well-wishes and affection meant the world.

When you two finally reconnected in the center, you turned to Chanyeol with shining eyes. "So, ready for a tour of your birthday party?” You held his hand. “I really hope you like it; that’s all that matters to me now.”

The real reason for your words passed him by because of the excitement deep within him for his plans for your birthday party, but he nodded eagerly as he smiled warmly.

Yixing approached you both. “Is it okay if I accompany you two while you check the parties?” he asked a little bashful, knowing it would be awkward to have him around while you shared your feelings poured out in all of the planning choices for each of your birthday parties.

“It’s fine, Yixing! You’re the judge after all,” you accepted, offering him a kind smile.

As you guided them both, Chanyeol gasped in delight at each thoughtful detail in the decoration that your team came up with. The games he loved playing decorated the room, a star projector enhanced the mood, and food and drinks were inspired by the games he loved the most.

But it was the dance floor that truly left him speechless—an interactive mat where guests could join in the music. As he tested it out, his enjoyment enhanced as he heard songs from his favorite artists and games represented. The guests around him cheered at him, and he spread some high-fives.

“Y/N, this is too amazing! How did you manage to plan something so perfect?” He breathed, taking your hands in awe.

“Your friends were key factors in the planning. They had the craziest ideas.” Your smile radiated warmth, and Chanyeol wrapped you in a tight embrace. You saw your crew and mouthed a thank you towards them, in case you hadn’t said it enough.

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. “There’s one last surprise,” you said, smiling back at Yixing.

Chanyeol’s eyes widened expectantly. “Show me!” he exclaimed excitedly, and you led him towards a red arcade-like machine decorated with musical notes, guitars, drums, and pianos.

Chanyeol had to hold on to you for balance because of the amount of joy that radiated from his face at seeing a familiar character on the screen—it was him, rendered lovingly in pixelated form.

“Y/N… is this for real? Does it work?”

“Yes, it does,” you answered, pressing the play button. “Minseok knew this game creator who helped us with this mini adventure game with you in it. I hope you like it.”

Heart swelling with affection, he couldn’t help but pull you into a tight hug, followed by a kiss on your forehead. “Are you kidding? This is the coolest thing anyone has ever done for me!”

You planted a kiss on his lips before your team approached to hear what Chanyeol thought about his gift. Chanyeol hugged each member, not being able to contain his euphoria.

It was his time to show you the party that he planned, but the game seemed too interesting not to play it right away. “Thank you all again. This is—this means the world to me,” he beamed, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Do you mind if I play through just a bit before we continue?”

You couldn’t help but laugh brightly. “Of course, take your time! I’ll be waiting when you’re ready.”

With that, he eagerly ventured into the pixelated quests alongside his virtual self, grinning wider with each level completed. From the corner of his eye, he saw you chatting happily with Yixing and Junmyeon, radiating warmth and care.

The game ended all too soon, but he came out victorious. He took another look at you. The game was fun, but his plans were more exciting. Chanyeol approached your group with a smile on his face and tenderly held your hand in his. “That was even better than I imagined,” he sighed happily.

He turned to Yixing. “I believe it’s my turn now.”

Yixing smiled knowingly. “Cool! Let’s go check what magic you’ve conjured for Y/N’s special day.”

Chanyeol winked at you and led you to the other side of the room. You had peeked a little when you arrived and while Chanyeol played with the video game, but it was even better to experience it fully.

Light beams danced upon the walls, matching the colorful LED light decorations; all of the food and drinks glowed in neon-like colors, but it was the photo booth that surprised you the most.

“Care to try it with me?” Chanyeol asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

You nodded eagerly and stepped into the cozy photo kiosk. Chanyeol grabbed two flashlights and offered you one before he dimmed the lights down.

He kissed your cheek on the way. “Do you remember the light painting exhibition we saw months ago? It gave me an idea.”

“No way this works for real,” you exclaimed.

“I know, let’s try!”

You doodled around with the flashlight, but Chanyeol seemed to have something in mind based on how precise his movements were. As you exited the booth, Yixing took the photo strip with a sweet smile directed towards you two.

“You two are something else; you should check this out, Y/N.” Yixing handed you the prints.

Tears of delight pooled in your eyes as you finally saw what Chanyeol was so focused on drawing with the flashlight: “You’re my light,” writing each word in each picture and a heart for the last one. Yixing found it endearing that you also drew a heart for the last picture, with an arrow on the side pointing towards Chanyeol.

“Chanyeol…” you breathed, gazing upon him with all the affection overflowing your soul. Words could not capture what he meant to you and the magical moment you found each other in. Smiling softly, emanating that same light he described you to be for him, he stopped the little tear about to fall down your cheek.

A chorus of ��awwws” caught your attention as Team Chanyeol approached behind you. Even Sehun was cheering for you, but he didn’t let go of the opportunity to playfully roll his eyes at you when he caught your gaze.

Their care for you in that moment meant everything. You smiled and joyfully welcomed Baekhyun and Jongin’s embrace. But Chanyeol softly pulled you close once more, needing more of your moment together. His eyes shone just for you.

“This is lovely, but we’re still in a challenge that needs to crown a winner,” Baekhyun teased, giving you a small wink.

“I believe the true winner is obvious,” you teased back, mirroring his gesture.

“I-I’m not ready… was I supposed to decide now?” Yixing asked, making you all chuckle.

Chanyeol placed a hand on Yixing’s shoulder. “Not yet, man. Whenever you’re ready,” he clarified. “But for now, let’s have fun!”

With that, Chanyeol and you made your way to the dance floor, dancing under the lights. Your friends gathered close, sharing laughter and jokes wherever you were.

As the music flowed through you, all else fell softly away; only the joy of the moment shared with the one you dearly considered as your person remained. Chanyeol's smiling eyes held galaxies of warmth within which you were happy to lose yourself time and again.

Letting go of the challenge and only planning the party to make Chanyeol happy made you forget about the prize. Seeing him happy and having the most fun he could on his special day with the people he loved the most was the reward you didn’t know you were looking for. Although the competition brought you all there, it was the bond you all shared that made each moment sweet.

Chanyeol and you were lost in competition over Tekken when Jongin approached and whispered something in Chanyeol’s ear. Jongin flashed a warm smile in your direction before making his way back.

You looked at Chanyeol, wondering what was going on, but he grabbed your hand before you could speak up. “Come,” he said softly.

Intrigued, you followed him to the opposite side of the room. Near the photo booth, there was some sort of window that he seemed to have covered so the light from outside wouldn’t enter the room. It seemed completely reasonable because it could have made it difficult for the light painting in the photos to work. But when he moved the curtain and opened the door—not window—a balcony with a set of stairs decorated with fairy lights surprised you.

For starters, you didn’t even know that your venue had a balcony. Jongdae and Minseok had come to check it out with Chanyeol because you had been busy that day.

Your heart fluttered, filled with expectations. You glanced back at him with questioning eyes, and his shined brighter than any light decoration in the room. The warmth of his hand holding yours was calming; his thumb brushed the back of your hand, inviting you outside with a little squeeze.

You followed him up the spiral stairs until you reached the rooftop. The view of a cozy seating area and the gentle, chilly breeze enveloping you caused you to seek out Chanyeol’s comforting presence, yearning for his warmth.

Chanyeol's secret paradise took your breath away. With lights glowing softly all around, it was as if stardust itself had sprinkled down upon that rooftop nook just for the both of you. It seemed like his message on the light painting photos was not at all random.

His giggle caught your attention, and as you looked at him, you realized you both had played the same game all along, but he still continued to amaze you, heart and soul.

“I had one last surprise, for your eyes only,” he simply said as he led you to the cozy nest of beanbags, his guitar waiting alongside your private feast. Joy and gratitude swelled within your heart.

“One last surprise, you say?” Smiling softly, you traced his cheek. “Yeollie, being here with you is the greatest gift of all. You’ve given me magic where I least expected to find it.”

His signature simple, nervous smile never failed to melt your heart. As he leaned to steal a kiss, you couldn’t help but grin at his adorable, flustered ways. “I… have something,” he said as he grabbed his guitar and gestured for you to take the beanbag next to him. “I’ve been working on a song for you.”

You settled in with eager eyes fixed on his handsome face. As he strummed those first soft chords, he captured your gaze, making you feel as if nothing else existed in the world besides the music flowing between you two. And when he finally started singing, his velvety voice and heartfelt words engulfed you completely.

You leaned into him, tracing patterns along his back while grinning at the way he watched you from the corner of his eyes, full of care.

The song drifted softly away, leaving only the sounds of the city below and your mingled breaths in the cool night air. You turned then to find Chanyeol watching you still, a question in his eyes that held its own beauty.

Reaching up, you traced the curve of his lips, feeling his breath hitch. "Chanyeol... that was the most beautiful song I’ve heard, and it-it means so much that you wrote it just for me,” you whispered, struggling a little to speak between tears of joy. “You’re my genius songwriter."

He hurried to dry your tears, making you giggle. The emotions were becoming clearer within you, and your palm found its place over his beating heart. His hand closed over yours and intertwined your fingers. “You have no idea how happy I am to see how much my song moved you, jagiya."

He lowered his gaze for a second as he took a deep breath before he looked into your eyes once more. “You are my whole world. And I love you, Y/N."

Joy overflowed within you as your heart swelled almost to the point of bursting. Hearing those words from him for the first time since you met him compares to nothing else in the world. Your heart found solace, and your face radiated a brilliance that outshone all the lights around you. Raising his knuckles to your lips, you met his expectant smile. "I love you too, Yeollie. With all of me," you whispered.

A gentle smile spread across Chanyeol's face as he gazed lovingly into your eyes. He reached up to cradle your cheek, brushing away the remnants of your tears with his thumb.

Leaning in, he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead before slowly resting his own against it, relishing the intimate connection. Your hand continued to rest firmly over his racing heart, filling him with a comforting warmth and deep appreciation for the love you both cherished.

"I meant every word, you know," Chanyeol murmured. "You truly are my whole world. From the moment I met you, I was a goner. Your smile, your laugh, your beautiful soul—you stole my heart completely without even trying."

Reaching up to cup your cheeks in his hands, Chanyeol sealed his declaration with a lingering kiss, pouring all of his adoration and passion into the tender moment you shared under the moonlight. In the warmth of your embrace, you both uncovered the ultimate reward that lay at the heart of your spirited party planning endeavors—it all began and concluded with love.

Epilogue

“Alright guys! Are you ready for the real party planning showdown between Chanyeol and Y/N?” Chanyeol announced, looking at all of the faces of his friends before him.

“I hope you don’t end up proposing this time or anything,” Sehun commented, and you threw a marshmallow at him.

“Behave, Sehun. We already know you love us; no need for snarky comments, dork.” You shut him up, earning giggles from the rest of the members. You glanced at Chanyeol and stole a quick kiss from his lips.

“Yixing, hyung, are you ready to choose a team this time? These two are fierce!” Jongdae asked him, knowing that last time he had a difficult time choosing between you two and ended up declaring it a tie. Considering what went down on your birthday, everyone accepted it. Yixing himself suggested making the challenge all over again so your own feelings wouldn’t get in the way and leave him with a tough decision.

“I’m really not sure, but this seems more fun than judging,” Yixing replied.

“This time it is my birthday, so I will be the judge,” Kyungsoo said, giggling at Yixing’s expression. “Don’t worry, hyung, just choose Y/N’s team!”

“Oh, oh, this judge has some strong bias; should we truly trust him?” Baekhyun pointed out teasingly.

Jongin was pure laughter beside you, while Minseok tried to intervene. “Kyungsoo knows what he’s talking about, but it could be fun switching teams for this challenge.”

“I would love to be on Y/N’s side this time around,” Jongin commented.

Before more silly debates continued, Junmyeon raised his hand, trying to calm everyone. “Guys, let’s start with the recruiting! We have a chef to impress this time,” he said calmly, draping his arm around Kyungsoo.

“Are you ready?” Chanyeol looked at you with a warm smile.

“Oh, you bet, jagiya!” you exclaimed, offering a fist bump his way. He responded and sealed it with a kiss on your knuckles.

Baekhyun cleared his throat and signaled for everyone to join his chant. "May the best party planner—and partner—win!" You all exclaimed in unison.

[scaredcacticle]

Flowers For Men

Bo Sinclair x F!Reader 🔥

Bo’s date makes an unforgettable first impression

“Dammit, sir can you help me,” you ask the man in the same aisle as you.

“Wh-Oh hey pretty girl what can I go for you,” he replies looking you up and down.

“That’s cute, can you please help me out,” you laugh.

“Hey you don’t even know my name,” he replies, an expectant look on his face.

“Fine what’s your name, mines Y/N,” you giggle.

“Names Bo. Now what is a pretty girl like you doing in a dirty shop like this?” he asks as he walks closer.

“Broken fan belt sadly, anyway you can help?”

“Heh… Yeah I can help you get one but only if I get a date in return”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah really”

With a smile you can’t help but ask him for a pen and paper. He wasn’t bad looking either, quite the opposite actually. Nice chocolate hair, strong arms visible underneath his mechanics suit, and very strong looking hands.

As you walked with him and got your things you couldn’t help but stare at his body. The sweltering heat had his clothes sticking to him showing every muscle in his back.

“Thank you for helping me”

“No problem doll. This a real number ain’t it”

“Of course it is but don’t open it until I leave. No questions just do it”

“Alright”

As you both part ways Bo opens the paper. It’s your number with a time and date at a diner in town. He smiles to himself and heads home, trying to convince himself he won’t be counting down the days until he sees you again.

________

“Hey,” Bo hears from behind him, that all to familiar sweet voice hitting his ears once again. As he turns he has to all but catch his jaw.

He’s a simple man with simple tastes. The simple jean shorts that hug your thighs ever so tightly and your low cut top has his all of his blood going south.

“Hey doll you look real good,” he says , eyes tracing your breasts over and over again.

“Glad you like my top but I also have a gift for you,” you laugh, pulling a bouquet of flowers from behind you.

As you set them down Bo stays sitting in silence, mouth open in disbelief.

“Aww cmon now darlin’ men don’t get flowers,” he says covering his face to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Hey when we talked on the phone you said yourself ‘men never get flowers until they’re dead’ and I plan on giving you a lot more than flowers before you’re dead,” you say leaning over the table between the two of you, making sure your chest is on full display for him.

For the first time in a long time Bo was absolutely stunned. The woman in front of him had him enamored and he needed her. All of her.

As the date continued you and Bo laughed and laughed until the diner closed. Time passing by the both of you in the blink of an eye.

“Can I come back to your place?” You ask as soon as you both leave the diner making Bo stop.

“What?” he laughs ,” I thought I would be the one to ask”

“But you’re not asking fast enough,” all smiles gone from your face, you step up to him. Your face inches from his.

“Y-yeah I mean I was just making sure you wanted to”

“Of course I am”

“Let’s go then”

————

“So where’s your house?” You ask, taking your jacket off.

“Really? That’s all I get after all that teasing at the diner,” Bo laughs , sitting a not so sly hand on your thigh.

“Hey I gotta make sure you’re not a serial killer or something,” you giggle crossing your legs over his hand.

“Well I own my own shop in Ambrose and a wax museum run by my brother and I”

“Nice”

And with that you give him shorter and shorter replies. At some point he’d wondered if you’d fallen asleep, sometimes not answering him at all. Until he pulled up into Ambrose.

“You alrig-“ he starts to ask before your lips are on his and for the first time he has to push a woman off.

“Woah doll that’s what you’ve been planning huh. Let’s go inside”

“Nope. Let’s do it right here in the open who’s gonna see?”

He thinks you’re a woman after his own heart and before he can even think about it he’s on you.

Hands and lips wandering and rubbing all over you. His hands come under your top and in one swift motion he rips it off of you. Breasts now exposed to the cool air of Ambrose.

Like a man starved his mouth is all over your chest. Squeezing and licking your nipples with a hand to your throat. After making quick work of his pants his hands travel to yours and he does the same.

And right before he can do anything you whip around and fall to your knees. It felt like pure ecstasy to Bo, the warm cavern of your mouth feeling like our ecstasy on his member. But Bo isn’t one to lose control so easily, swiftly grabbing your head forcing you down on him over and over again and right before his climax he pulls you off.

Dragging you to the back of his truck he open the bed and throws you over it stuffing himself inside of you. Wasting no time he rams into you hitting every spot you never could.

“That’s right you’re my little slut aren’t you?” He grunts into your ear, hands tightening around your throat.

“Yes, yes I’m your little fucking slut!” You scream, waves and waves of pleasure rushing over you. But Bo keeps going ramming himself into you harder and harder until he unloads inside of you. Using you like his fuckdoll he keeps going until he’s completely empty.

As he pulls always he looks at the beauty of what he’d done. You’re a mess with his cum dripping down your legs and hair a mess.

“You wanna stay the night doll?” He laughs, wiping the remnants of himself off of you.”

And with your nod he picks you up and carries you to his bedroom.

[amiedala]

SOMETHING HOLY

CHAPTER 1: Start At The Beginning

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, power play, dark!Din, canon-compliant violence

SUMMARY:

“Mine,” Din is saying like a prayer, “you’re mine.” 

There’s a desperation to it, an undercurrent, and Nova unhinges her mouth as Din watches, hard and desperate pressed against her, so desperate that it burns through their clothes. A hymnal, he’s singing, with nothing but the same syllables. It’s desperate, pleading. More than piety. Like a zealot, for her, only for her. Like Novalise is something holy. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: TELL A FRIEND TO TELL A FRIEND... SHE'S BAAAAAAAAAACK! i'm SO excited to share the 11,000+ word Prologue & first chapter of Something Holy with you all! buckle up my friends, and enjoy ;)

If you're new here, Something More & Something Deeper are the first installments in this series, available on here & ao3!

PROLOGUE:

The story goes like this: Boy meets girl. Boy loses girl. Boy moves the entire earth to find girl. Girl moves the stars above to be with boy. Fate intervenes. Life stops for both boy and girl, eventually. Love is the conqueror of all things—except death. Death is always triumphant, always the winner, always the end of everything. Boy and girl are no exception. The stars give, yes, but they also destroy. They supernova. They take.

This is always the story.

There is no other ending to the story.

*

CHAPTER ONE: START AT THE BEGINNING

The end of the galaxy does not come with a whimper, or a bang. There is no immediate fadeout. There is one supernova, the Mandalorian she loves, and their ragtag band of rebels holding up the sky. The galaxy’s end is not immediate, it doesn’t come in a flash. There’s nothing that shows that the end is inevitable, is on the horizon. 

Nothing except Nova’s dreams. 

It’s a hurtling—almost like through hyperspace, through that crush of space that only warp can provide. But it’s different. Darker. 

Greyscale.

Novalise only dreams in color. 

Lightning—not blue—a sinister laugh—resounding. Everything comes in ellipses, like her vision’s been altered. Nova can feel herself teetering between sleep and consciousness. The voices in her head—so real, so tangible—feel like they’ll follow her back into the light. This isn’t like the visions Grogu pulls her into. It’s not like the warped hallucinations that came with Sparmau. It’s not even like her glimpses of Ezra—his face so similar to her own, almost a reflecting pool, almost, almost—but everything is fleeting. Ephemeral. She turns on her heel, her long hair blowing in the wind. 

Wind, she thinks, there’s wind here. She looks up, left, right, sideways—it’s like she’s in a funhouse of mirrors. Like the one on the dais—back on Jedha, or the one in the forest on Naator. But she can’t see anything—not the enemy, not herself—just that persistent, unfurling darkness.

Even in her dreams, it settles like a pit in the center of her belly. 

“Wake up,” Nova whispers to herself. “Wake up—” And then it comes in flashes. Still in black and white, still in that greyscale, but—clear, all of a sudden. Blips of nightmare fuel, of a tall figure who is somehow both man and not man, of a lightsaber whirring past her face, of Din’s startled eyes, of crying in the background, screaming, someone’s screaming—is that her screaming?—Bo-Katan’s iced-out glare, Wedge flailing in the background, the sound of a ship splintering into a thousand pieces, the pulse and flicker of the Darksaber, Mandalore being bombed, stepping through a doorway, a doorway she’s seen before, and then—

“Hello, Novalise.” 

Nova whirls again, toward the sound of the voice, but—silence. And then, the screech, a chittering, awful pulse, and then she’s in the mirror again, staring at herself, and Nova knows what she looks like, but this version is not Novalise, not Andromeda, not anything she’s ever seen. Evil. She looks drenched in it, sweating out something terrible. She holds her fingers up to her reflection’s own hand, trying to find harmony, symmetry, anything to anchor herself to—

“Don’t you dare. Don’t leave me.” Din, suddenly, is as clear as day, as undone and as divine as his bare face. “What if you don’t come out?”

Nova swallows, stepping forward, cradling his cheekbones in between her hands. Delicate enough to keep him steady. Strong enough to shatter bone. She can feel the glow—that constant, utter darkness, pulsating, calling to her. It’s not holy—it’s the opposite, but it beckoned just the same. Nova leans in, lips flush against her Mandalorian’s. So quiet, quiet enough that only Din can hear her: “Then you bring me back.”

Nova hurdles awake, pressing her hands against her hammering heart. She can’t slow it down, can’t force it to steady, but she’s slamming her sledgehammer pulse as if that will shock it back to normalcy. 

A beat later, Din’s up, blotting out the moon shining through the gossamer curtains—it’s so rare, Nova marvels, before she’s caught her breath, that anything can cut through Mandalore’s smog—and then Din is back, her single locus, that one, eternal star. She collapses against him. 

“Dreams,” she whispers, as his hands tangle in her dark hair, hanging almost to her waist, still smelling of coconut and forsythia after their wedding. “Just—dreams.” 

Din’s brown eyebrows furrow, creasing down the middle. “Bad ones?” His voice is still gravelly, stuck with sleep.

Nova considers, inhaling a normal breath. “Urgent, at least.” 

Din observes her. “Jedi dreams?” 

And Nova smiles at that. She can’t help it. She reaches forward, through the interrupted darkness, punctuated by the rare shine of a full Mandalorian moon, and brings Din’s forehead to hers. “Probably. They’re always knocking around in there, somewhere.” 

She can feel Din’s gaze on hers. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No,” Nova whispers. “I want…I want one night. One perfect night—our wedding night, Din—that isn’t about the uncertain future, about the–the impending doom hanging over our heads.” She looks up at him, forehead still pressed against his, biting on her bottom lip. “I want one thing, right now, and that’s you.” 

She shifts, laying back against the silken sheets, dragging his naked body down with her. Nova can feel him, broad and hers, hard and ready between her thighs, pressed up against her stomach. She doesn’t break his gaze, careful, intentional, hands slipping off his shoulders to caress his cheek, to slip one down to the small of his back. 

“Nova—” 

“Just you,” she repeats, breathier than she intended, relishing in the feel of his brown, bare eyes against hers, that this is her Din, her Mandalorian. Hers. In this lifetime of so much loss, they’re here, together. “Nothing else matters.” Nova reaches up, kissing the long column of Din’s neck, right at his pulse point, encouraging, coaxing, the dreams already forgotten. “Just for one night,” Nova breathes, “the end of the galaxy as we know it can wait.” 

Din moves forward, lips latching against hers, his eyes star-studded and filled with something reverent—

Three knocks at their bedroom door. 

Nova clenches her teeth together as Din stifles a tiny laugh against her mouth. A laugh—one that she savors every time it bubbles out, and she can’t even enjoy it, because of the three knocks. Again. 

“As your Mand’alor,” Nova calls, anger sluicing through her voice, “unless the palace is being razed, again, I order you to leave until the morning.” 

“It’s morning.” 

Nova’s head drops back against the pillow, exasperated. “Bo-Katan, it’s our wedding night—” 

“The sun will be up in an hour. Listen, I’m—I’m really sorry, Nova—” 

“Leave!” Nova yells, again, suddenly furious, “now, please!” 

“Nova,” a voice calls, and it’s enough to make Din’s eyes catch hers in the low light, enough for Nova’s heart rate to pick back up. Wedge. “I’m sorry. Truly, I am. But…but we found something, and it can’t wait.” 

Nova stares at Din. Din stares back. 

“It’s your call,” he mouths, and Nova debates just stuffing a pillow through the crack in the door and muffling them out, but there’s an undercurrent running through Wedge’s voice, one she hasn’t heard in a very long time. One she hasn’t heard since her parents were killed. 

So she disentangles herself from her husband, throws her discarded robe on, and strides for the door. Nova wrenches the handle open, Din still in the shadows of the bed, and tries her very best to look menacing, untouchable. 

“What?” she asks, low and furious.

Bo-Katan doesn’t even notice, eyes blinking rapidly. Wedge’s knuckles are white, clenched in a fist up against his mouth. At first, she thinks he’s stifling his laughter, but there’s not laughter there at all. Bo-Katan is worried. And Wedge is afraid. 

“What?” Nova repeats, but it’s lost all of its fire. 

“The Chimaera.” 

Nova blinks. “What?” She asks, for a third time. 

“I went to Yavin.” 

“Yeah, Bo-Katan, I remember. For my wedding dress. And I’m very thankful—truly, I am, but I don’t think that matters right now—” 

“I ran into an old friend on Hoth.” Wedge finally speaks, and his voice is as taut as a wire. “Nova, when Bo-Katan was on Yavin, she…she listened to a distress call. And at the same time, I was on Hoth, and I ran into someone—”

“Hera.” 

Nova looks back at Bo-Katan, shaking her head, trying to make sense of it. She, decidedly, cannot.

“Hera told me that the Chimaera was picked up on her radio. The distress call, the callsign signature. She—”

“Nova,” Bo-Katan says, strained, “I need to tell you about my—if this ship is back, we are in for—”

“Bo-Katan,” Din says, materializing behind them, as silent as a shadow, “you need to spit it out.” 

Irritation flashes across Bo-Katan’s face. Then, pointedly: “Something very bad is on that ship, Nova.”

Nova looks back at her, and that gnawing pit in the center of her stomach comes back, slung with the full force of gravity. She swallows, eyes locking on Bo-Katan, on Wedge, to Din, who’s moved out of the shadows and is standing in line with them. What a strange quadrangle, the four of them are, whisper-yelling in a palace that’s more like a ghost town. Mandalorians, Rebels, all of them in varying degrees—and now Nova’s not listening, just staring at the three people she trusts most in the world, all three of them speaking in glances and riddles. 

“What do you mean,” Nova whispers, “by ‘something very bad’?” 

“I knew someone once,” Bo-Katan says, her voice faraway, “and he disappeared into deep space. In a ship that’s been presumed missing since—with someone who scared me even more than Ladmeny Sparmau.” 

Nova feels thunder. She doesn't realize it for a moment, but it’s coming from inside her chest. “Who?”

Bo-Katan looks at her. “Nova—”

“Who did you know?”

Bo-Katan looks at her head-on. “His name was Ezra Bridger.” 

*

Nova’s not sure how they materialize down in the war room, but they do. Somewhere, between Bo-Katan dropping the bomb that she knew—knows—Ezra, that he’s real, not just someone knocking around the inside of Nova’s head, and the holotable flickering on, Nova, Din, Bo-Katan, and Wedge all descended the staircase. But Nova can’t remember it, the whole journey downstairs completely blank. 

She stares upward through the domed ceiling of the palace, and the jolt of realization that she can still see straight through the sky is electrifying, a warning sign. Of what, Nova’s still not sure. But it’s odd, the blue sky—slowly receding into a lighter and lighter color—shining above her head. 

Bo-Katan and Din are arguing when she filters back in. “Stop it,” Nova whispers. 

“Nova—” 

“I need you to run this again for me,” Nova says, evenly, blinking away sleep. “Start at the beginning.” 

Bo-Katan inhales, exhales, trying to regain some semblance of composure. She’s a soldier, that much is clear—in the way she gives reports, in the way she gives her delivery. Bo-Katan is so focused on the strained set of her jaw that for a minute, she can’t listen. Bo-Katan stops, observing Nova back, waiting for her to catch up. That sense of softness is in such stark contrast to the girl Nova once met, and despite the entire situation, Nova smiles. 

“I have a lot in my history that I’m not proud of.” 

Nova swallows, looking up at her friend. Bo-Katan is facing the throne now, instead of her. Tentatively, Nova steps forward, trying to bring her back, but Wedge, slowly, shakes his head. Nova’s hand jumps back like a pulse. 

“I… used to be in a group called the Death Watch.” 

“You did not.” Din’s voice rings out, unencumbered and clear without his helmet on. Nova shifts back to face him. “You were part of a cult?” 

“You’re one to talk,” Bo-Katan snarls, turning on her heel. “Child of the Watch.” 

“You and your group,” Din says, evenly, angrily, “were so focused on returning Mandalorians to warriors that you killed thousands of them.” 

“Hey—” 

“You and your group,” Bo-Katan counters, “were religious zealots that ostracized anyone who adapted to our modern ways.” 

“Stop,” Nova whispers, but it’s Wedge that cuts in. 

“We are on the same side,” Wedge yells, so foreign from his normal tone of voice that everyone stops. “I know the two of you have your differences. But I thought we were past this.” He gestures at the tensioned air between them, pulled taut and ready to snap. “We have a mutual enemy here. Aren’t you tired of the infighting? You’re friends. Bo-Katan, you’ve told me as much, so don’t deny it. Din, Bo-Katan just said she’s not proud of it. Stop. We’re not arguing about this anymore.” Everyone stares. Sheepishly, he turns to Nova. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to steal your thunder.” 

Nova smiles. “Steal it anytime. Well said.” Carefully, she positions herself between Din and Bo-Katan. “I know none of this is simple,” she says, looking at both of them. “There’s a lot of history here, and it’s not going to be smoothed over in one conversation, especially with the differences in how both of you were raised. But that isn’t the focus, not tonight.” 

“It’s morning,” Bo-Katan mutters, and at Nova’s exasperated look, she shrinks. Barely, but it’s enough. “I was a commander in the Nite Owls, a subsect of the Death Watch. I believed in what I was doing. I thought that I was…returning Mandalore to its former glory, that anyone who opposed me was wrong. I was young, and I wasn’t exactly naive, but I was headstrong. It put me at odds with my sister.” Her eyebrows are clenched together in pain, clouding her expression. “Satine,” Bo-Katan says, like it burns her coming out of her mouth, “was peaceful in every way I wasn’t. When she ruled Mandalore, she wanted us to be pacifists.” Bo-Katan stops, considering. “I disagreed.” 

“Where does Ezra fit into this?” Din asks.

Bo-Katan glares at him. “I’m getting there. We were exiled to Concordia.”

Din stiffens.

Wedge clocks it first. “What?”

Din sighs, running a hand over his exhausted face. “I…also grew up on Concordia.” 

Bo-Katan gives him a look, but doesn’t press it. Like she recognizes it, like their history may have overlapped. “Listen, my history is… it’s complicated. Complex. I’m trying to give you the important stuff.” 

Nova nods. “I know.”

“My sister and I…we fought, and Death Watch was… relocated. But while all of this was happening here…there was unrest in the Senate. In the rest of the galaxy.” She looks at Nova. “The Empire was on the horizon. And I met Maul.” 

Nova’s eyebrows furrow. “Who?” 

Bo-Katan looks appalled. “Darth Maul?” 

Nova shakes her head, genuinely lost for the second time today. “I don’t know who that is.” 

Din nudges her with his elbow. “You sound like me.” 

Nova rounds on him. “Do you know who this Maul person is?” 

Din peers down at her, puzzled. “Nova, I’m a Mandalorian. Of course I do.” 

Staring, Nova prompts him to go on. 

“He overtook Mandalore,” Din sighs, “Not well. Not for long. But for a while there, someone other than a Mandalorian—by blood or by Creed—held the beskar throne. It’s a big part of Mandalore’s history.” 

Bo-Katan sighs. “I helped him do it.” 

Din looks back at her, stricken. “You helped—”

“To reinstate the Death Watch,” Bo-Katan interrupts, sourly. “It was a coup. I didn’t want him on the throne any more than I wanted my sister to be.” 

“Right,” Din scoffs. “You wanted to be on the throne.” 

Bo-Katan raises her chin, clenching her jaw. “It is no secret that I wanted to be on that throne, Din Djarin,” she whispers, deadly and cool. “In fact, I helped you find Ahsoka so that you would return the Darksaber to me.” 

“How’d that work out for you?” 

“Things change,” Bo-Katan spits. “I changed. Is that so hard to believe, after everything we’ve been through?” 

Nova bites down on her bottom lip, ready to hurl herself between the two of them again, but—amazingly—Din shrinks back, looking chastised. And apologetic. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, genuine, brown eyes shining through the dark. 

“Maul killed my friend,” Bo-Katan says, “decapitated him. Right in front of me. And he became the leader of the Death Watch. I began seeking out other ways to retake Mandalore. So I met Sparmau. I thought I loved her.” She swipes her hand across her bottom lip, angry. “She was so bright. So vivid, and dangerous, and I thought she had enough compassion to help me. But she never loved me. She took and took everything that she could, and cut me down until I was the basest version of myself.” Bo-Katan swallows, her face simmering, like she didn’t mean to reveal all of that. “Obviously, that went south. And I went to try and break Satine out of prison. For redemption, maybe. But I wasn’t thinking about anything other than Mandalore.” 

Nova stares at her, feeling worry carving a scar through her own heart. She’s seen Bo-Katan vulnerable—but this is offering up information in front of both Din and Wedge. Information Nova didn’t need to pry out of her. 

“It went badly.” Bo-Katan stares off somewhere in the past, eyes unfocused past Nova’s shoulder. “Maul killed Satine.” 

Nova knows this part of the story—barely, but enough—and she strides across the distance, taking Bo-Katan’s trembling hand in her own. Surprised, stunned out of her reverie, Bo-Katan looks over at Nova as if she’s materialized in front of her, but squeezes Nova’s hand back.

“There’s more to the story,” Bo-Katan sighs. “But I wanted revenge. I wanted Mandalore back. So I teamed up with the Jedi. That’s how I met Ahsoka. And Kenobi. They fought alongside me to capture Maul. I wanted to kill him. Obi-Wan, for some reason, said no.” She shakes her head. “Ahsoka told me that I could be a great leader. That Mandalore could change. But I didn’t want change. I  wanted to rule it in the way I always thought it should be—I never shared Satine’s idealism. And I thought I would finally have the chance to rule the planet.” She sighs. “But Order 66 happened. And the Empire rose.” 

“Bo-Katan—” 

“I was rash. And violent. But I refused to do the Empire’s bidding, Nova,” Bo-Katan says, her voice almost wobbly. “I swear.” 

Nova squeezes down on her friend’s cold hand. “I believe you.”

“Clan Saxon took their chance and forced me off the throne.” Bo-Katan casts a glance up at where it sits on the dais, resetting her jaw. “Eventually, I met a friend. Sabine Wren. She tried to gift me the Darksaber, and I said no.”

“Is that when you lost it?” Din’s voice isn’t goading, or combative, but Bo-Katan’s eyes flash with anger, and as soon as it appears, it vanishes. She looks unsettled—sad, Nova eventually quantifies. Bo-Katan Kryze has been a lot of things, but Nova’s never seen how poignant and powerful sadness looks on her face, like it’s held back by floodgates, raring to be released. 

“That came with the Great Purge,” Bo-Katan says, “and it’s a story for another day. I did gain the Darksaber, eventually—but I was gifted it. I declined, originally, but I…I was assured that enough people thought I earned it. And some Mandalorians accepted me as their leader, but others—” she shoots a pointed, but not unkind, look at Din “—did not. When the Purge came, I lost. Again. And Gideon got the Darksaber.”

“Ezra,” Wedge reminds her, softly, like he doesn’t want to disrupt her speech. This is, Nova realizes, the longest Bo-Katan has consecutively talked in front of all of them. 

“Oh,” Bo-Katan says, faraway, distracted. “Sabine introduced me to Ezra.” She turns away, like she’s swiftly dismissing herself. 

“Ezra Bridger,” Wedge steps in, relieving Bo-Katan, “was a part of the crew of a starship called The Ghost. It was piloted by General Hera Syndulla, who I saw on Hoth. She, along with her crew—including Sabine, and, eventually, Ezra—were Rebels, too. But they didn’t fight in the wars we did, Nova, and they didn’t ever cross paths with you or your parents. I know Ezra was—is—a Jedi, like you. I only know Hera in passing. But she stopped me when she saw me on Hoth and told me that she heard the distress call—” 

“Ezra disappeared into deep space with a man I’ve only heard about,” Bo-Katan interjects, shooting a slightly apologetic look at Wedge, “but he’s certainly the stuff of nightmares. On his ship. The Chimaera. And neither of them were heard from since, until Wedge saw Hera. So we’re facing something…massive.” 

Din sighs, leaning back against the holotable. 

“Am I boring you,” Bo-Katan says, eyes glittering with ice again. Her voice is flat. It isn’t a question. “Because I can stop. But I would advise you to listen to me, because I’m the only person in this room who was on Mandalore for all of this. And if we’re going to fight this—if we’re going to make Mandalore the center of a war again, which we are—I think you should shut up and listen.” 

“All of this matters,” Nova cuts in, letting go of Bo-Katan’s hand to draw a line through the air. “I don’t think I need to remind anyone in this room how we don’t know what’s coming next. Sparmau is dead, but the First Order is still out there, gathering in the dark. Gideon is gone, but whoever he was involved with is still lurking. Grogu’s still terrified every time he sees a stormtrooper. There’s something off about Leia’s kid. The darkness is in every dream I have. And Ezra is a real person—a real person—and he’s trapped out there with someone who scares Bo-Katan more than Sparmau.” 

All three of them are staring at her. Nova swallows the tide of rising emotion in her throat. 

“I’m exhausted,” she whispers, “and I know you all are, too. But there’s something out there, and the only way we’ll be able to stop all of it is if we listen to each other. Piece together our past. We can’t win this fight if any of us are on different sides.” She swallows. “None of this is easy. But we have a hell of a battle ahead of us. I’m tired, but I’m exhausted of being one step behind them all. We’re going to win this war.” 

Din looks at Nova, a tiny, proud smile whispering across his mouth. Everything is solidified by that one look, that forever, eternal locus. “I’m in. And, Bo-Katan, for the record, I was only sighing because I was trying to keep all of the people straight.”

Bo-Katan rolls her eyes, but the set of her shoulders drops. “I’m with you all, whatever comes next. Even you, Din.” 

“Rebel by nature,” Wedge grins, stepping closer, closing their circle. “Count me in.” 

Nova smiles at all of them. “What did the distress call say?”

Bo-Katan and Wedge exchange a look. Wedge speaks. “Just that the Chimaera is back in detectable range. But someone—presumably Ezra—turned a beacon on a shuttle, which let the Rebel base know where it is.” 

“Where what is?” 

This time, it’s Bo-Katan that speaks. “Ezra’s relative location.” 

Nova nods. “Gear up.” She surveys the faces of her confidants, her Rebels, her Mandalorians, her family. She tucks her long curls behind her ear, extinguishing the azure light of the holotable. Above them, the sun is—miraculously—still shining. “Meet me in the docking bay in a half an hour.” 

Din looks over at her, familiar, quiet love sparking in his eyes. “Where to, Mand’alor?” 

Nova smiles, adrenaline rushing back through her veins, breaking through the floodgates. “We’re going to bring Ezra home.” 

*

Din and Nova ascended their staircase alone. Bo-Katan and Wedge are stationed downstairs, Grogu sleeping in his carrier in the corner, tiny mouth open in even smaller snores. 

Silently, Nova peels off the robe she’s wearing, Mandalore blue. Through the dark, she can feel Din’s eyes on her, lazer-sharp, lustful. They track her every movement—the curve of her hips, the way her stomach twists when she bends to pull on underwear, tan pants a few shades lighter than her skin tone. He’s still watching as she clasps her bra, gaze hungry, full of the moment stolen from them earlier. 

“Din.” 

“What?”

“You’re staring.”

A slow, wicked smile spreads across his face, glittering in the early-morning blue of their room. “I won’t apologize for that.” 

Chills spread across Nova’s body. “We have a mission at hand,” she whispers, ignoring the way she shivers as Din moves closer, closer. She loves to be hunted by her Mandalorian, willing prey. 

“My mission,” he says, reaching out, a phantom limb at first, and then the rest of him appears. His open hand rests against the extension of her open throat, and Nova sighs, pressing into Din’s touch, “is to devour you.” 

Nova moans, the sound of it breathy, like it’s been coaxed out of her mouth. Din’s still only weaning his underclothes—no armor, nothing to shield him from her touch. Transfixed, she arches closer to his body, pressing her torso against his. She hums when he growls, low and primal, free hand skating over the small of her back. “Now?” 

“Always.” 

Nova shudders as Din’s hand clenches down—not enough to deprive her of air, but enough to make the stars shoot into her vision. Nova always welcomes the crush of space, the shuddering blackness of it, but this kind is her favorite. Buzzing, she presses her windpipe into the crest of Din’s hand, the sound of her sigh glittering off somewhere starward. 

Din murmurs something she can’t hear, trailing his hand up her back to fist in her hair. Nova knows she has a few seconds of pure bliss before danger sets in—that’s where she and Din live, that fault line. But this is the danger they chose, the danger they crave. She opens her eyes, sage green into dark brown, locked on Din like a laser beam, refusing to shy away. 

He lessens his grip, and Nova sags against his taut, hard body, the apex of his shoulders wider than hers, welcoming her in. Nova sighs, feeling that buzzing in her ears hum back to normal. “Mine,” Din is saying like a prayer, “you’re mine.” 

There’s a desperation to it, an undercurrent, and Nova unhinges her mouth as Din watches, hard and desperate pressed against her, so desperate that it burns through their clothes. A hymnal, he’s singing, with nothing but the same syllables. It’s desperate, pleading. More than piety. Like a zealot, for her, only for her. Like Novalise is something holy. 

Nova steps back.

Din stumbles forward, and they both tumble into where the sun is rising in the east, blue, soft light forcing them into the day. 

“What?” he asks, genuinely concerned. Nova blinks, tracing a line over the map of Din’s face—her Mandalorian, her husband, her beloved. The thick, coarse hair of his mustache, the bow of his upper lip, the ridge of his beautiful hooked nose. “What’s wrong?” 

“What was that, back there?” Nova whispers, afraid to take her touch away this time. Something haunted and terrible is skirting the corners of Din’s eyes. “With Bo-Katan?” 

Din sighs, blinks, and the expression shifts, but doesn’t disappear. “Her group and mine have been enemies for a long time.” 

Nova brings her other hand up to cup Din’s cheeks in equal measures. “Your sects of Mandalorians, sure, but you’re friends, Din.” 

His eyes cloud, uncloud. “Yeah,” he says, unconvincingly, and Nova squeezes down, trying to bring him back. “Yes,” he corrects, much stronger. “We are. But it’s beyond that. Being here…it’s strange.” He clears his throat. “I don’t know how to explain it.” 

Nova tilts her head to the side. “Din. It’s me.” 

“There’s so much history here,” he says, carefully. “And when it’s just us, it’s one thing. But…with war on the horizon, we’re going to have to unite the Mandalorians. You will, as reigning Mand’alor. They will follow you. You’ve proven yourself as a warrior, and they respect you. But…”

“This is a larger war than they’ve ever fought,” Nova fills in when Din trails off, eyes slightly unfocused. “This is bigger than one enemy, and it’s going to force all of us to be on the same side, regardless of their history.” 

Din nods, once.

“There’s more, though,” Nova breathes, circling her thumbs around his temples. “What’s going on?” 

Din’s gaze snaps back to hers. “I’m so tired, Nova.” 

Something fractures along her heart. Another fault line, cracking and bisecting. Small until it isn’t. Nova tries to brace herself against her racing heartbeat, tracing her fingers over Din’s cheekbones. “I know, my love.” 

Din’s jaw clenches. “Do you wish—”

Nova tips her head closer when he stops short in the middle of the sentence. “What?” she whispers, barely air at all, trying to coax it out of him. 

“That we just stayed on Naator?”

Nova blinks. “Din—”

“You have the galaxy to worry about,” he says, a weight behind the word, a heaviness that Nova never noticed before. “And we have a duty to Mandalore. I don’t want to run away.” 

Observing, Nova moves closer, tipping her forehead against his. 

“But,” Din whispers, so quietly it’s like there’s nothing there at all, “what if we ran away?” 

Novalise is speechless. For a tortuous, long second, she doesn’t speak. Whatever haunted thing was lingering in Din’s eyes breaks away, hides like it was never there at all. 

“Wishful thinking,” he mutters, trying to pull away, but Nova anchors him in place. 

“One day,” Nova vows, “one day, we will save the world, we won’t fight another war, and you and Grogu and I can live the rest of our lives under Naator’s pink sky. I promise you, Din.” 

He gives her a sad smile, hand grasping her chin, tipping it up to meet his eyes. “But you’re a fighter. It’s who you are. You aren’t…just going to leave. It’s not in your blood.” 

“You’re a Mandalorian,” Nova whispers, repeating his own words back to Din, “and fighting is part of your religion.” 

“Yeah,” Din says, kissing her on the mouth, lips lush and full against her own, “sure, it is.” 

It’s not until they’re both dressed, Grogu in tow, and heading towards the ship bay, that Din whispers something so quiet that Nova doesn’t hear it. 

“But I don’t worship the fight anymore. Just you.” 

*

“For the record,” Bo-Katan yells, over the hum of her ship’s engine starting up, “I still think this is a terrible idea.” 

Nova squints, long black braid swinging over her shoulder. “What choice do we have?”

Climbing into the cockpit, Nova and Bo-Katan take the helm. Wedge and Din disappear as they take off from Mandalore’s surface, the atmosphere clouding with every second they rise towards the stars. Wedge is likely going to eat. Din, Nova knows, touching his helmeted cheek as he disappears into the bowels of the ship, is going to try and sleep. 

“I don’t know,” Bo-Katan sighs, pushing all the thrusters up high. Her ship is made of the same metal and steel that Din’s was, but it’s older, less flashy. More utilitarian. Very Bo-Katan. “We’re going after an entire Star Destroyer. We can’t beat them.” 

“We are the galaxy's mightiest heroes,” Nova says, tossing Bo-Katan a grin. 

Bo-Katan gives her a sour look in return. “Yeah. But the four of us have almost died a lot.” 

“Grogu and I have the Force.” 

“Novalise,” Bo-Katan sighs, “no offense, but when has that ever really worked in your favor?”

Nova mimes getting struck in the heart, throwing her head back. “Ouch.” 

“We should have brought Koska and Axe. At least. Maybe a few other warriors.” 

Nova studies Bo-Katan as the ship ascends above Mandalore’s atmosphere. “You usually don’t share the fight.” 

Bo-Katan’s jaw clenches. “I’d share this one,” she mutters, flicking switches until the ship levels. A furrow in her eyebrows appears as she leans forward, trying to calculate exactly where the Chimaera’s signal was pulsing from. “Shit.” 

Adjusting, Nova brings herself closer to the nav system. “Where is he?” 

“Way out there.” Bo-Katan’s long, lean finger taps against the tracking beacon. 

“Primea?” Nova asks, squinting at the planet. “That’s not in the Outer Rim. That’s…”

“The other side of the galaxy,” Bo-Katan supplies. “The Unknown Regions.” 

“Luke’s out there,” Nova counters, trying to fight the rising anxiety in her stomach. “Luke’s on Ahch-To. That’s in the Unknown Regions. So, maybe, Ezra found—” But the impossibility of the entire thing catches up to her, flutters in her throat. It would be a couple days of journeying, even at full warp. They might have to stop somewhere to refuel. And Ezra was trapped out there, trapped with someone Bo-Katan was actually scared of… Maybe they are in over their heads. Nova realizes she stopped abruptly in the middle of her sentence. Now it’s Bo-Katan’s turn to stare at her. “I guess it’s too much to hope for,” she whispers, “that Ezra is anywhere close to Luke. That… that he might have found safety.” 

“Well,” Bo-Katan says, checking the fuel gauge as she fires her ship into hyperspace, “If Luke’s anywhere with Leia’s freaky son, maybe he’s not safe either.” 

“Bo-Katan—”

“That kid’s a weirdo,” Bo-Katan says, a mirthless laugh rising in her mouth. 

“You haven’t even met him.”

“Do I need to?”

Nova purses her lips, considering. “No,” she admits, quietly, and Bo-Katan barks a laugh. “But he’s…he’s troubled.” 

“Troubled like he’s a troublemaker? Or troubled like he’s a little Sith lord in the making? Because I think you and I both know the answer to that one. And he’s not a troublemaker.”

Nova stares out into the crush of space, thinking of Din’s hand on her throat, Bo-Katan’s words echoing in her mind. “He’s…he has the power to be terrible,” she says, carefully. “I know he’s Leia’s son, but there’s a darkness in him. Something awful. I’ve seen visions. I know who he’s destined to be.” 

“Kill him,” Bo-Katan shrugs. “Now, before he has that chance.”  

Nova stares at her. “I’m not going to kill a child. Leia’s child, no less.” 

Bo-Katan shrugs again, unaffected. “She’d thank you in the long run. If he turns into the monster you’ve seen he will.”

“Bo-Katan—” Nova sighs, pressing on her eyes hard enough to see stars. “I can’t kill him. I won’t. I… It would be wrong.”

Bo-Katan eyes her. “I’ll do it.” 

Nova blinks. Once, twice. “Maker above.” She bites the inside of her lip, looking at her friend. Bo-Katan’s rigidity is back, her ice queen persona snapped and frozen into place. Din looks haunted, permeated by something torturous he can’t bring to light. And, as always, Nova is oscillating between the both of them, orbiting their morality, trying to find the will to either bend or break. For once, that black hole in the pit of her stomach just feels too massive, too full of possibilities. “No one is killing him. Besides,” she says, hoping this will prod at Bo-Katan’s facade, “this is bigger than Ben Solo. This is bigger than just Mandalore, or the Order, or the Rebels. This is bigger than all of us, Ezra included.” Pointedly, she stares at Bo-Katan, wielding Ezra’s name like a weapon. 

It works. Bo-Katan’s front doesn’t shatter, but she falters. 

“Who is he with?” Nova whispers.

Bo-Katan’s spine goes straight. “Nova—”

“Why are you so afraid? Is…is this other person a god, or something?” 

“No,” Bo-Katan bites, “something of nightmares and legends, but absolutely not a god.” 

Nova offers her a tiny smile. “So…they’re killable?”

“If Ezra couldn’t—didn’t—then I don’t know. Genuinely, Novalise, I do not know. This…man, if you can call him that…is terrifying.”

“How?” 

Bo-Katan is staring out into space, a tiny crack in her armor showing. 

“Bo-Katan,” Nova whispers, just as desperately as she tried to get through to Din earlier, “it’s me.”

“I don’t know,” Bo-Katan finally spits, seething. “I don’t know, Nova. I don’t know anything about him, really. Hera Syndulla would know more. Ahsoka would too.” She turns her burning gaze to Nova. “Where is Ahsoka, Novalise?”

Nova blinks. “She’s…she’s out there. She told me she’d show up when I needed her next. That our paths were destined to cross again.” 

Bo-Katan snorts. “Typical Jedi nonsense, then.” 

“I thought Ahsoka was your friend—”

“I have no friends!” Bo-Katan yells, “Not anymore.” She swallows. “Except you. And Wedge, when he’s not getting on my nerves. “And Din. I guess.” She gives Nova a glance out of the corner of her eye. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, and the words still sound so foreign coming out of her mouth. “Of course you’re all my friends. I don’t…I don’t know what’s going on. I’m… Things are getting…wrong.” 

It shouldn’t make sense, but it does. Nova reaches out, grasping her friend’s hand. 

“If I wasn’t so vehemently opposed to the notion,” Bo-Katan says, sniffing, “I would say Mandalore is cursed.” 

“How can it be?” Nova asks, voice quiet, tucking her half-braid and curls underneath behind her shoulder, giving Bo-Katan an earnest, tiny smile. “It brought me to you.” 

It’s the type of quip Bo-Katan would typically roll her eyes at, but instead they flicker, her lips quirking up at the edges. “There’s something off about all of this,” she whispers, finally, clutching Nova’s hand back, “Nova, can’t you sense it?” 

Nova doesn’t say anything.

But that’s the problem. She does. And it’s seeped under her skin. It won’t scrub away. 

*

Bo-Katan eventually disappears to sleep. After she’s beaten Nova seven times at Sabacc, effortlessly. Nova took over the helm hours ago, listless, afraid to fall back into sleep. She doesn’t want to have nightmares. She can’t fathom the fact that so much of the galaxy is disintegrating in her fingers. She’s always thought of saving the world colloquially, like a metaphor, even. But this…all of this feels too big. Bo-Katan is scared. Din is becoming unhinged. Nova has made herself an enemy out of so many people—Ben Solo, the First Order, Gideon and his cronies, the sinister laughter, the blue lightning, the myth that Ezra’s been missing in action with. They’re all congealing, coagulating like blood, staining her skin, her mouth, her heart. 

“Hey.” 

Nova jumps. “Stars, Wedge, you scared me.” 

A small smile lights up her old friend’s face. “I thought I’d relieve you.” 

Nova blinks. “How long have I been up here?” 

Wedge cocks his head to the side, holding out his hand to help her off the pilot’s seat. Yawning, Nova takes it, sliding out of the chair. She cracks her neck to the side, realizing how tired she is. “Hours.” 

Nova blinks. “Where are we?” 

Wedge looks at the nav system. “Somewhere cresting through the Outer Rim. I don’t know where the—” he squints, “—Primea system is, but we’re not even close to the Unknown Regions yet. A way to go until we find where exactly the Chimaera’s distress call is coming from.” 

Yawning, Nova nods. Her head is pulsing. “And then what?”

“Well,” Wedge says, crossing his arms over his chest, that familiar orange jumpsuit so warm in stark contrast to the blue and grey of Bo-Katan’s Mandalorian ship, “then we find Ezra.”

“Wedge,” she says, and then closes her mouth. “Do…do you think this is a stupid idea? Going after Ezra with no idea what’s out there waiting for us?”

Wedge studies her. “I think it’s a Rebel thing for us to do,” he says, grinning. 

“I’m serious.” Nova’s voice almost wobbles. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she whispers, so softly, the truth of it laid bare. It’s something she would have admitted to her parents—she can picture Arokel’s troubled eyes, so like her own. She can feel Piper’s determination, coursing through her blood. But Novalise is tired, and the ghosts of the people she’s lost are just that—a specter, a haunting. Not a fortification, not a lifeline, not right now. “Wedge, what if we’re walking into a trap?” 

Wedge studies her. “Nova,” he says, sighing, resting a strong hand on her shoulder, thumb clasped right against the curve of her neck like her father used to do, gently bringing her back down to earth, “we’ve walked into plenty of traps. You always come out swinging.” He stoops down to catch her eye. “I’m old. I’ve seen a lot of things, now. And I know this—even exhausted, even confused, you are a leader. Even when you don’t feel like one. Even when you don’t want to be. And that crown hangs heavy on your head, rebel girl.” He smiles softly, so much like her father that it makes Nova’s heart ache. “Go give your mind a break.” 

And there’s so much Nova wants to say—so much, but she’s exhausted, and Wedge has given her permission, so she just sways into his hug, turns on her heel, and sinks into the belly of the ship to find her husband. 

*

The room is so dark. Almost entirely blacked out, Nova stumbles through the door after the hiss has resounded, arms out in front of her as she fumbles toward the bed. Bo-Katan isn’t a lavish person, so the rooms are sequestered and small, with only a cot for the bed. It’s big enough for two bodies—if Din isn’t wearing his armor, which he decidedly is not. Nova feels around and locates the curve of his hip, fingers skating underneath the hem. His skin here is so soft—one scar travels up the bone, slightly raised against her touch. 

Nova unhinges, pulling her jacket off, pushing her hair back behind her ears, closing her tired eyes. This is primal—folding her body against Din’s in the dark. It’s what she’s done since before she learned his name, since before he gave Nova her true one. Shivering, she draws her legs up, facing Din in the dark. 

Slowly, she traces the bump of his hooked nose, gorgeous and hers even in the vantablack of the sleeping chamber. How familiar and foreign this feels at the same time—tracing the man underneath the Mandalorian, discovering everything that makes Din the man he is. She feels her heart turn over, drawing him closer, closer still—

“Nova?” 

Her eyes fly open. “I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she whispers, “but I’m here.”

His arms reach around to enfold her. They rustle in the dark. Nova’s enclosed against his chest, feeling Din’s heartbeat flutter in tandem with hers. 

Din’s hand comes up, lazily, sleepily, to stroke through her hair, unraveling the top half from its braid. “Where’d you go?”

“I was keeping Bo-Katan company,” Nova whispers, inclining her head into the curve of his neck, “up in the cockpit.” 

Din’s quiet for a moment. Then: “That’s not what I mean.” 

In the dark, Nova feels her cheeks flush. “I’m nervous,” she admits, “about what this means. Bringing someone back who’s been missing for years. Whoever Ezra was with. Everything just feels…so much deeper. Bigger,” she corrects, licking her bottom lip. “Like we have more to lose.” 

Din sighs into the dark. “We do have more to lose.” 

Nova’s heart sinks, just a little bit. 

“But,” Din says, exhaling through his nose, “it means we have more to fight for.”

Nova wraps her free arm around his back, skating under his shirt, taking careful note of the little groan he lets escape in the dark. Quietly, so quiet it’s like her words aren’t there at all, she breathes: “I thought you were tired of fighting.” 

Nova’s almost asleep when Din’s answer floats out, right into the shell of her ear. “I am. But I’ll never get tired of following you into war.” 

*

Nova’s dreams are in black and white again. Greyscale, like she’s seeing something ancient. Primal. Back before the galaxy existed.

Nova falls through the glimpse of this other side, this vantablack reality. And when Din appears, he’s wrong. 

It’s palpable, the way he radiates. Metal, gunsmoke, danger—that sweet scent of cinnamon gone. Locked away, hidden behind beskar and steel. It’s everything she needs, everything she doesn’t—fear and desire, locked up together in ecstasy. She knows she’s dreaming—but she still needs him, craves him, feels him, everywhere—

“Din’s haunted,” a whisper cuts through the dark. Nova doesn’t know if it’s her own voice or something else entirely. 

All she knows is that she doesn’t care.

Everything in this place is primal, attuned to a frequency only they can walk along. Nova watches, everything obsidian and mottled, hidden in shadow. Obscured. He’s obscured, too. His helmet—it’s visceral, his face underneath it all. Nova can feel it in the silence, in the dark.

Limbo. They’re both in limbo. 

She needs him like a prayer. Something whispered into all that darkness, pleading for a higher power. He’s haunted, this version of him—the version of Din where he becomes the Mandalorian, nothing more. 

In the dark of night, on a bed of velvet and honey, Nova watches him. Moonlit, shining only by the stars that surround them. They glitter and refract off the beskar like a million tiny shards of glass. He stands in the doorway while she rests, listless and unable to submit to sleep. He stalks her in the night like an animal, primal and terrifying. 

“Do I scare you, cyar’ika?” he asks one night. Croons, like the taste of fear is tantalizing. Sweet. Nova shivers, her body only half-covered by the gossamer sheet. They’re both spinning, lost in this nothingness, equally bisected by all this darkness. It would be devastating if Din wasn’t here to share it. Even though he’s haunted. Even though he’s not himself. 

Even though this is a dream.

It is a dream, right?

“Din—”

Gloved hands grab her ankles, throwing off her center of balance. He yanks her to the foot of the bed, throwing the sheet away. Nova tries to cover her body, but she watches the helmet slowly shake back and forth. An order. 

“Do I,” he whispers, velvet and tungsten, “scare you?” 

“You’d like if it I answered yes,” Nova whispers. “Wouldn’t you?” 

It’s not really a question.

She can feel his teeth glint in the dark, white-hot, even underneath the visor. This Din doesn’t take his helmet off. Not now. Not ever. It comes to her in flashes, little vignettes—what he used to look like, what warmth used to live in his eyes. Now, he’s more Mandalorian than man, and she wants him to bisect her, to halve her, to tear her into shreds. Even if it’s just for a moment. Even if none of this is real. She wants him, low and desperate in her belly, and it drives her up to the stars. His gloved fingers are trailing up her legs, predatory. 

“Do I scare you?” Visceral, through the modulator. 

“Yes.” 

His hand stops. 

“Novalise.” It sounds like absolution, a prayer. A reprimand, sure, but something holy. Proof that he hasn’t forgotten who she is. Nova bites down on her bottom lip as Din’s rough, gloved hands start dragging up her thighs again. “Do you like it?” 

He leans in closer. Nova feels something slide across her wrists, keeping her anchored in place. She doesn’t know what it is. She doesn’t care. “Din,” she whines, and his helmeted head is a knife through the air, landing an inch away from her cunt. Nova clenches down as he sniffs, inhaling through the modulator like he’s devouring her already, and her moan comes out broken in two. 

“I can smell you,” he whispers, strangled. “You want me so bad, it’s killing you.” 

“Yes,” Nova manages, her entire body shaking with want—with desire. She wanted it, then—yesterday, a million years ago—back on Naator. She’s always wanted it—to be Din Djarin’s prey.

But right now, he’s not Din Djarin. He’s the Mandalorian. And the distinction is blackened and honeyed, a dangerous, terrible thing. She doesn’t know where they are, what this place is—just that they were plunged into this vantablack and have become forged by it. Trial by fire, trial by desire—the circumstances change, but the story always remains the same.

“I want to devour you, sweet thing.” 

That word again—it, too, feels divine and sacrosanct, living in the light, belonging to the dark.

Nova moans. “Do it.” 

Din inhales again, a raggedy, wanton thing, and when Nova squirms, the blackness tightens around her wrists. She’s on display for him, this haunted man, and she’s an offering to whatever demon lives inside of him. 

When he leans forward, fingers digging into her hips to draw her closer, Nova’s mouth opens into a starstruck O, pulling the sound clean out into the air. “Louder.” 

“Maker,” she gasps—and then—

“Don’t pray to him,” Din grits out, his other hand snapping out of nowhere, clasping around her neck. “Your Maker’s not here. You worship me.”

Stars above. Nova doesn’t look away—she looks into that blinking, leaching blackness. He’s slick like an oil spill, her Mandalorian, and she’s caught in his gravitational pull. It’s inevitable. It’s everything. 

Nova gives in. 

“I worship you.” 

“You’re a miracle, sweet thing,” he whispers, and through the modulator, it vibrates. His head is face-to-face with her pussy. Nova can’t really feel his breath—the helmet prevents it—but the memory of it is just as strong. “But in here, I’m your God.” 

“Din,” she whispers, fallow and weak, hips jerking underneath his light touch, “please—”

When he pushes a finger inside, it’s thick. Unyielding. Without warning. This is what Din’s like inside of here, this husk of a man—something beyond material and metal. He’s both divine and sacrosanct. It’s stifling. Din’s head cocks to the side, considering. Outside the window—is it a window?—the stars are brutal and clear. Without remorse, he cocks it, curling it up inside of her, and Nova shudders. 

“I want your words.” 

“Feels—fuck, so good—”

“Is this enough, cyar’ika?” He leans closer, and Nova can still feel the imprint of his tongue from before, before the darkness swallowed them both, before this—and he pulls her closer, driving that gloved finger in deeper. Nova sobs. “Is it enough?” 

“No,” Nova mewls, finally, “no, I need more—”

“Greedy,” Din interrupts, and then she’s being stretched open with two fingers, and she’s so close to the edge, tasting it, dancing on it—and then nothing. 

“Please,” she manages, and when she looks up, Din’s helmet is obscured in shadow. He’s standing between her legs at the edge of the bed, staring down at her—she can feel his eyes, under there. They haven’t disappeared. A jolt strikes Nova, deep in her stomach. Deep brown, she reminds herself. Deep brown, like reflecting pools. The color of wet soil, the feeling of home.

“What do you want?” 

Nova’s mouth falls open. “For you to come back to me.” 

It’s not what she meant to say. Not what she intended on saying. But still, it’s here, and she can’t take the words back. For a second, the veil ripples—color floods back, color other than black and grey, other than that dulled starshine, and they’re back somewhere where the earth felt warmer. It rips through her like a lightning strike, sudden and unforgiving. 

“I’m right here,” Din whispers, and then the hiss of the helmet disengaging. “I never left.”

Nova swallows. “Prove it.” 

She can’t see him. She can’t see anything, and for a moment, it feels like he’s going to slink out of that darkness unrecognizable, and then she hears the unmistakable sound of Din popping his gloved fingers in his mouth, sucking every drop of her off of them. The moan that follows is so loud—it could shatter bone. Nova feels like it does, for a second. 

“You’re so fucking sweet,” Din pants out. “So fucking—” 

“Yours,” Nova manages, wanting to reach up to stroke his face, to move her thumb over his cheekbone, to anchor her back in reality. Her heart pounds, obsessive and unfettered, and her vision drops out as Din crawls over her. 

“Need to fuck you,” he grunts out, and then his hands are fumbling at the clasp on his pants. Nova reaches up, trying to help, but that darkness keeps her anchored down. She kicks up, trying to get leverage— “Don’t you fucking leave me.” 

Nova moans. 

“You can’t go anywhere, Novalise.” One strong, gloved is anchored on her bare stomach, pushing down hard enough to keep her locked in place. “You belong here.” 

Nova gasps, wanting to buck her hips up—not to run away, not to leave—but to get closer, and Din’s hands free his cock from his pants, and for a second she stops struggling, just staring at it. It’s always big—the bulge of it always swells in her belly—but in the half-light, it looks like it will spear her, split her in two. 

“You can take me.” 

“I need…” Nova writhes against the heat, staring at the head of Din’s cock, bead glistening, and her mouth waters. 

“I know. I know, baby.” 

“Please,” she begs, stars threatening behind her eyes, “please—”

“You don’t even know what you’re begging for,” Din croons, and his free hand slides off the base of his own dick to shoot around her throat, those same stars now supernovas, bleeding out obsidian, “do you?” 

“For you,” Nova manages, “for you, always you, always, always you, Din—” 

“You’re holy,” Din whispers, squeezing down once, “divinity.” 

“Yes,” she manages, sweet tears gathering at the corners of her eyes, “but you—” 

“I’ll drag you down to the darkness with me,” Din says, voice low and guttural, and then he pushes inside of her. No give. No take. Nova moans, a ragged, tortured thing, and Din slides all the way in, pounding into her, and she can’t take it, it’s everything, it’s devastating, it’s— “Look at me.” 

He lets go, stars receding back to the dulled state outside that window. Nova tried, eyes attempting to find their locus in the darkness, but when she sees Din’s face, it’s just the darkness looking back. 

It makes her cum so hard she sees black. 

“Novalise—” 

And she wakes up. 

Nova thinks she yelps—a noise works its way out of her mouth, it’s devastating and dark, guttural, leftover from the dreamland.

Din, only a second’s delay, is up and taut next to her, his body tensed into  warrior. “What?” he gasps, arms braced against her, breath hot in the obsidian of the tiny room. “What’s wrong, cyar’ika?” 

When she doesn’t answer, trying to bring her heartbeat down to normal, to make it even-keeled, he repeats the words. A mantra, a prayer. Tears spring to life in her eyes, this desperate, fantastical dream. It felt real, so real— 

“Dream,” she chokes out, finally, dragging a hand over her flushed, inflamed face, hands shaking from his mouth in between her thighs, the way he pushed into her, unyielding, relentless.

She knows he’s cocking his head to the side, considering. Nova doesn't need to see Din to know the way he moves. It’s ingrained in her—everything about him, grounded in muscle memory. 

“Bad dreams?”

A laugh hitches like a hiccup in her throat. “I’m not sure.” 

“What—” Din struggles, sitting up straighter. His bare hand trails up between her legs, and Nova thinks he’s still talking, but when he finds the apex of her thighs, he stops in the middle of his sentence. “Oh,” he says, low, pulsing, like it’s knocked the air out of his lungs. “Oh. What did you dream about, cyar’ika?” She can hear the proud smirk in his voice. She shivers, despite the heat of his touch. 

“You,” Nova manages.

Din’s hand clenches down. It’s not enough to hurt, but right now, Nova wants it to bruise. She wants Din in every single reality, every single iteration—but this one, right here, this is the basest, realest version of him. She doesn’t need to resort to dreams. She doesn’t need anything except him. 

“Is that all I get?” he croons, leaning in to lick a line up the column of her neck, stopping to flutter his tongue at her pulse point. That, enough, knocks her undone. 

“I can’t explain it,” she gasps, feeling his teeth graze over the same spot, stars shooting out behind the back of her eyes. “I—just need you, please, Din, please—” she’s begging now, begging like she was in the dream, that alternate reality, where Din was razor-sharp and married to the poison. She wants to sink into his skin, here, now, and that’s not enough. 

It’ll never be enough, she thinks, and then Din is maneuvering in the dark, with precision that only he’s ever had, notching his entire broad body between her legs, breath catching as he rips the strap of her top away from her collarbone. His teeth never leave, latching over and over as he makes his way down her body, bunching up the fabric of her shirt in his fist, yanking it away from the terrain of her stomach. Nova cries out, biting into the back of her fist to stay quiet—Bo-Katan’s ship is big, but not that big—

“Don’t you dare,” Din hisses, low and dangerous, “you scream for me.”

High and breathy, a moan works its way out of the open O of Nova’s open mouth. Din flutters his tongue somewhere below her bellybutton, desperate and spurred on. “Please,” she cries out, half delirious, not sure what she’s even pleading for—

Din grabs fistfuls of her pants and yanks down. Hard. Nova yelps as she’s exposed down to her knees, still shaking from her dream, shaking even more from the way Din’s unfurling here now. 

“Louder,” he goads, and she can’t stand the blood rushing in her ears. 

When he brushes his hand against the tender flesh of her inner thigh, Nova quakes. Desperate, pleading up to something high and holy above her, something she’s not even sure she believes in, Nova’s eyes roll back into her skull when Din’s mouth finally meets the apex of her thighs. 

“Oh,” she cries, and he licks a line straight up to her clit. It’s everything. It’s devastating. It’s like her dream, but so much better because this is real, he’s real, and he’s devouring her like she’s that something holy, like she’s the only locus he’s fixated on. 

His tongue feels alive, animalistic. Devour is the word Din used earlier—and devouring he is, bisecting Nova with his tongue. Desperate, she clutches her hands in his hair. Din moans at her touch—no matter how many times she’s done this exact thing, touching him in the dark always brings out that lust, that want. Nova can feel it as he’s trembling as hard as she is, tongue jittering as he licks her clean, over and over again. The tip of his tongue swirls around her clit again, and she’s so close, so close to the edge—it’s undone and divine. They’re sweating out confessions together—Nova’s in her head, Din mumbling them between her legs. Neither of them can vocalize it, make the words come aloud, but Nova knows they’re both pleading, crying, confessing—to whatever higher power they believe in, to the stars above themselves. 

“Cum for me,” Din rasps out, and it’s both a demand and a plea, and Nova can’t take it anymore. When his tongue latches down, fingers plunging into her, desperate—she does. She lets go, loud and warbling, her moan just as shaky as she is. Over and over again, she does, stars supernovae in the back of her eyes, blood thundering in her ears.

She barely comes down to the earth when Din does it again, again, again. He fucks her with his tongue like it’s an apology, like it’s divinity—Nova can’t decide which. Only when they’re both falling from it does he stop, climbing up her body to kiss her on her open mouth, smearing her lips with her own taste, and Nova kisses him. She wants to crawl inside of his teeth, be swallowed down, and live in his heart. She can’t explain it, this longing, this despair. It owns her.

It knows her by name. 

“Thank you,” she whispers, finally. It’s not enough, but it’s a start. 

Din doesn’t say anything, just lurches forward to bury his face in her neck. On the comedown, both of them flutter off into sleep again, and the only thing Nova can think is that Bo-Katan was right. 

Something is off. Something is bigger than they are—like they’re beginning a slow descent right into the eye of the storm. 

*

Knocking on the door brings both Nova and Din back awake. Nova opens her eyes, bleary, remembering that her trousers are still somewhere around her knees, or maybe by now her ankles. She shivers, the warmth of their cocoon refusing to rise up and meet her. She pulls on her sweater, folding her arms against her chest.

A small sliver of light leaches into their darkness. Nova squints. It’s Bo-Katan. Her hair is askew, mussed from her own sleep.

“What’s going on?” Nova asks, yawning, and then something hits the ship. 

Bo-Katan’s eyes are panicked. “We—we fell out of warp.” Another blast sounds, and the hull shutters. Din jackknifes up from the cot behind her. Nova wrenches open the door. 

“Are we under attack?” he yells, loud and panicked, and adrenaline and fear jolt through her with equal intensity. 

“Yes. Nova, you gotta pilot the ship,” Bo-Katan screams, over the noise, and Nova runs, grabbing hold of anything in the hallway she can to keep herself upright, seeing Bo-Katan lurch forward and grab Din’s forearm, dragging them both back down the hall to where the ship’s artillery is located. 

“Wedge!” Nova screams, hurdling into the cockpit. His face is covered with a sheen of sweat, and he looks at her, panicked for the first time in years. She reaches forward, grabbing the controls, helping him anchor it back in place. “What the hell is happening?” 

“Trap!” He yells back, the sound of gunfire too loud to hear anything but a whisper. “We crashed out of hyperspace, and all of these ships were—waiting for us.” 

Nova, wild-eyed, jumps up onto the seat next to Wedge, whose arms are shaking. “How is that possible?”

He shakes his head, trying to regain control of Bo-Katan’s shaking vessel, but Nova bumps him with her hip. “Co-pilot,” she manages. “You’ve been up here for hours. I can hold her for a minute.” 

Wedge’s mouth is set in a thin, firm line, but his eyes hold relief. Nova’s never flown this ship before—it’s decidedly not an X-Wing. But she can handle Kicker, so she can handle anything. She straps in, kicking the thrusters up as high as they’ll go, trying to get the warp to catch. 

“Come on,” she whispers, and she feels the ship shake as Bo-Katan and Din find their footing, shooting back at the armada of ships that are firing at them. Large sharded pieces of asteroids fly into her vision. Nova plays the offensive, swinging and dodging, trying to keep them on a clear path as Din and Bo-Katan shoot their way to safety. 

She looks down at the warp button, bleating a defeated cry. It’s broken—or damaged. A pulse of panic shoots through her bloodstream. “We can’t get out of here!” she cries. “Wedge!”

But as soon as they appeared, the ships encircling them pull back, disappearing behind the giant moon hanging on the horizon. Nova looks at the hyperspace drive again, and dives, lurching over the edge of an asteroid, ears still ringing in the sudden silence.

“We have to try,” she whispers, pushing at the button again. “They can’t have disappeared—Wedge!” She stops short as he slaps her hand away. “What the hell?” she asks, low, surprised, startled. 

“Stop!”

A giant bang resounds. Nova flinches, realizing the bottom of the ship scraped across the asteroid. 

“What?!”

“Stop!” Wedge cries again, finger stabbing at the navigation. “Stop, Nova—”

“I’m not doing anything!” she screeches, near hysterics, heart pumping out a million beats per minute. “Maker, Wedge, what?”

“We’re here!” He roars, and Din and Bo-Katan reappear at the cockpit’s edge. Nova stares down at the pixelated planet on the screen and back to the one appearing in front of them. It’s not a moon at all—it’s a cratered, white planet. Slowly, the noise from the rest of the ship filters back in, loud in the absence of all of the fighting outside. 

“Primea,” Bo-Katan whispers. “How are we at Primea? This journey should have taken us at least three days—”

“Where’s Ezra?” Din asks, and Nova’s heart is in her throat. 

“It cannot be this easy,” Nova breathes, shaking her head. That distress call—still from the Chimaera’s mothership, still blinking her callsign—is coming from a shuttle craft a few klicks down on the planet’s surface. “It cannot—”

“It’s not,” Bo-Katan says, her hair still in disarray, her face pale, discolored. “We’re walking into a trap.”

“Bo-Katan,” Nova whispers, uneven and erratic, “what choice do we have?”

*

Primea is a ghost town. It’s quiet. So quiet. Everything is salty and dusted in white—like snow without the chill. It’s so eerie here. The four of them walk in formation—Nova and Din in front, Wedge and Bo-Katan in tow. Four sets of boots crunch across the crystalline ground, eyes scanning the skies, the craters, waiting for the army to materialize, waiting to be swallowed up by whoever took Ezra.  

“This is wrong,” Bo-Katan mutters, under her breath. “This is wrong.”

“Bo-Katan,” Din hisses, both of their voices modulated under their helmets, “keep it together.”

She doesn’t so much as shoot him a furious look. They’ve all seen–or felt—it enough times to know what it looks like under her helmet. Nova feels unsettled. She’s right. They’re walking a fault line, and no one can tell exactly where the crack is. 

Nova skitters to a stop. “There.” She whispers it, but it sounds like a yell. Nature should not be this quiet. A tiny escape pod, grey like the Star Destroyer it was borne from, is splayed out across a crater, an overhang disguising where the color meets the sky. 

Her heart is in her throat. She feels like she’s going to throw up. 

“We should have an attack plan—” Wedge starts, but they’re already running. Novalise first, then Bo-Katan, then Din behind them, in quick succession. The four of them cross the open terrain, Nova’s hand on the Darksaber in her belt. With one glance at Din, Nova throws the saber to him, igniting her own—yellow, warmth seeping out sunlight onto this greyscale planet. Bo-Katan arms her wrist rockets, fists out to meet the air. Wedge’s blaster has been unholstered since the second his feet touched down on the ground. 

Smoke is billowing out of the ship. Nova didn’t see it before, camouflage against the backdrop of the sky—but it’s impossible to miss now. Fear lurches into her stomach. When they reach the hatch, she leans forward, opening the pressurized door. 

“Ezra?” Nova whispers, her voice shaky and childlike in the dark hull of the escape pod. 

Frantically, they look around the ship, inside, outside, searching every tiny cranny, every impossible nook. It’s clear immediately, but they keep looking. Ezra isn’t here. 

“Where is he,” Bo-Katan manages, panic ripping up an octave in her voice. 

Wedge’s eyes bulge. 

“What?” Din murmurs, looking over at him. 

Blaring, on the dashboard, are two things. 

The timelog reads the date—five and a half days after they left Mandalore. The four of them have been out of space and time for the better half of a week. 

And the hologram button is blinking. 

“What the fuck,” Bo-Katan states, angry and flat. 

Shaking, Nova presses the hologram. His face—the shape of this phantom Jedi that’s visited her, warned her—blares up, azure and tiny. Din’s hand is at her waist, keeping her weak knees steady. Nova leans back into his gravity, hands trembling, heart terrified despite his anchor.

“If you’re watching this,” Ezra says, his voice tinny and distorted, “that means I’m too late.” He looks over his shoulder, panicked. The hologram glitches, flickers, and then it’s just his face—so like her own, Nova feels like a knife in her gut, almost like she’s looking into a mirror—and Ezra lurches closer. “And you guys need to run.” 

*

TAGLIST: @myheartisaconstellation | @fuuckyeahdad | @pedrodaddypascal | @misslexilouwho | @theoddcafe | @roxypeanut | @lousyventriloquist | @ilikethoseodds | @strawberryflavourss | @fanomando | @cosmicsierra | @misssilencewritewell | @rainbowfantasyxo |  @thatonedindjarinfan | @theflightytemptressadventure | @tiny-angry-redhead | @cjtopete86 | @chikachika-nahnah | @corvueros | @venusandromedadjarin | @jandra5075 | @berkeleybo | @solonapoleonsolo | @wild-mads | @charmedthoughts | @dindjarinswh0re | @altarsw |  @weirdowithnobeardo | @cosmicsierra | @geannad | @th3gl1tt3rgam3roff1c1al |@burrshottfirstt | @va-guardianhathaway | @starspangledwidow | @casssiopeia | @niiight-dreamerrrr | @ubri812 | @persie33 | @happyxdayxbitch | @sofithewitch | @hxnnsvxns |  @thisshipwillsail316 | @spideysimpossiblegirl | @dobbyjen | @tanzthompson | @tuskens-mando | @pedrosmustache | @goldielocks2004 | @fireghost-x@the-mandalorian-066 | @ka-x-inas always, reply here or send me a message to be added to the taglist!!! (and if you’ve already asked me and you’re not on it, please message me again!!!)

*

WE'RE BACK BABY!!!! i hope you all loved it!! i am SO excited to bring this next and final installment in the Something More Series to life. thank you for being here, for staying through all my absence, and for reading—regardless if this is your first journey with Nova & Din or if you've been here since day one, you mean the world to me. <3

CHAPTER TWO WILL BE UP IN TWO WEEKS, SATURDAY, MARCH 25TH, 2023! (hoping posting every two weeks is an easier schedule to stick with this time).

LOVE YOU!

xoxo, amelie

[meltotheany]

Top Ten Tuesday was created by The Broke and the Bookish in June of 2010 and was moved to That Artsy Reader Girl in January of 2018! hi hi, loves! i hope you’re all doing well and staying cool (or warm) in whatever hemisphere you are in! i always love doing posts like this, and just reflecting on all the good book options i have for the last six months of 2024 (which feels wild to even type)! but truly, so many good books are publishing over the last half of this year, and i can’t wait to talk about them all with you! 😍 🌞 SUMMER RELEASES ☆ The Dead Cat Tail Assassins by P. Djèlí Clark – august 6th ⤷ once again, this book is about necromancers, assassins, and a vow our mc isn’t supposed to remember, but does. it very well could be my new personality very soon! ☆ Mistress of Lies by K.M. Enright – august 13th ⤷ maybe the summer buzzword is assassins, because this queer filipino debut also stars one who is forced to work with two others to solve a magical murder mystery that could also involve vampires. this is truly the debut that i have been looking most forward to all year! ☆ The Crimson Crown by Heather Walter – august 27th ⤷ we love a tuesday birthday, and this year for mine i get a sapphic snow white dark retelling. i am obsessed with this author’s writing and her malice duology that ended up being a favorite of mine. i can’t wait for all the sapphic stories she will give us, but this birthday release one feels very special to me already. 🍁 FALL RELEASES ☆ Graveyard Shift by M.L. Rio – september 24th ⤷ i mean, once everyone saw there was a new ml rio book coming out i think the entire book community let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding. it is “only” a novella (i say this as a novella lover), but it is about a group of night shift workers trying to solve a mystery at the graveyard, involving a gravedigger, and i know it’s going to be everything. ☆ The City in Glass by Nghi Vo – october 1st ⤷ at this point, i will just beg tor for anything that nghi vo writes. but this is a brand new standalone all about angels and demons and a lost city and i just know that i am going to love it like everything else this author writes! ☆ Lore Olympus: Volume Seven (Lore Olympus, #7) by Rachel Smythe – october 1st ⤷ there is just something really happy and healing about waiting for my next preorder of lore olympus to come in. volume six  was actually my favorite so far, so i extra can’t wait for this newest installment for the fall! ☆ Spectacular (Caraval, #3.5) by Stephanie Garber – october 22nd ⤷ i cannot believe we are actually get a caraval holiday story right before the holiday season! i am so curious if we will see characters from both of her trilogies in this, and if we will get some hints for what is to come next! but i love being in the world of caraval and i can’t wait for this! ❄️ WINTER RELEASES ☆ The Teller of Small Fortunes by Julie Leong – november 5th ⤷ this is actually one of my favorite covers… ever. but is a new debut about a immigrant fortune teller, traveling from town to town with her magical cat, and i think this is the tale of them trying to help someone in one of these towns! this is going to be cozy and heartfelt and i can’t wait to read. ☆ The Songbird & the Heart of Stone (Crowns of Nyaxia, #3) by Carissa Broadbent – november 19th ⤷ i am all caught up and so ready to read this new carissa broadbent book! this third full length story is about a character we know and love from books one and two, but i am curious how i am going to enjoy it because i really didn’t love the last novella i read set in this world. but i am still excited to find out this winter! ☆ Wind and Truth (The Stormlight Archive, #5) by Brandon Sanderson – december 6th ⤷ the fifth and last (of this story arc, before a very big time jump) of the very beloved stormlight archives. i cannot believe it will be in my hands in six months, and i also can’t believe brandon has said it is the longest bo...

[boysplanetrecaps]

Boys Planet, Episode 8: The First Hour

Hello, friends! So, as you might recall, the first hour or so of episode 8 is devoted to going through the preparation that the various teams made for the third challenge mission, knowing that only half of them would actually be able to perform it. I didn’t recap it at the time because I was more interested in covering the eliminations, but I’ll be covering it here in this post! 

Please note that it’ll be hard for me to talk about these groups without sometimes acknowledging who does and who doesn’t survive the elimination from the second half of this episode. If you’re spoiler averse, you may want to wait until you’ve seen the rest of the episode to read this part. For what it's worth, I don’t feel like I’ll be saying anything that you wouldn’t have more or less guessed. 

Here we go!

We start at 5:45 in to the episode. The boys are gathered in a large room, still wearing their outfits from the second challenge mission. They’re there to be assigned to one of the five “artist” songs that were revealed in episode 6. (The link takes you to the mini demos, and is spoiler free.) I find it difficult to describe what the songs sound like, especially since we can’t hear the whole songs and the genres the show uses to describe them are kinda weird (“oriental pop”? “Sentimental hiphop”???). So you can listen for yourself. 

As was the case for all Produce/Planet shows before this, the trainees were matched to songs based on audience vote. The Star Creators were given like, 24 hours to vote on this, which means that for the most part, only Koreans really had a chance to do it. The idea is supposed to be that the audience would put, say, Cha Woongki in a cute song, and put, say, Kim JiWoong in a sexy song. Also, the trainees appealed to the Star Creators to put them in a particular song. That video is actually a lot of fun -- some of the trainees sing or dance to get your attention, and I feel like it’s the first time I actually heard Ricky just straight up sing. He’s got a really nice voice! Notably, Z-bo speaks some Korean in his video, too, so that’s cool! Anyway, it’s cute to watch, and has subtitles, so give it a look if you’re at all interested. 

Of course, since a bunch of trainees wanted certain songs, and not a lot of people wanted certain other songs, the matchup could never be perfect. I’ll get to all that in a bit! 

In any case, we finally find out that the new Star Master is Key from SHINee. If you don’t know SHINee, check out their songs Sherlock, View, and Replay. If you don’t like any of those then it’s ok, but trust me, SHINee is really well-respected and completely changed K-pop. Before SHINee, no one danced while singing the way that SHINee did. If there had never been a SHINee, there would not have been a BTS, not the way that you know them. So, even if you don’t like their music, you should know who they are. (Oh, and side note, if you watched Run for The Money on Netflix, that featured Minho, who is also from SHINee.)

The SHINee boys are also sentimental faves of mine. SHINee and f(x) were the two groups who really got me into Kpop, and if you know much about kpop, you know that those two groups have something really awful in common and I don’t want to talk about it, but let me just remind us all to be kind to kpop celebrities, ok? Because we don’t want stuff like that happening again. 

Anyway, SHINee debuted in 2008, when Key was just 17 (and dance machine Taemin was just 14). They were HUGE -- they were absolute sensations. Their clothing set fashion trends, and their songs were all massive hits. The members have gone through a lot, but they’re still kicking. Key is the funniest, most snarky, most honest member, and he’s known for his sense of style as well as his performance abilities. Check out his new song Killer -- it’s got a retro-80s vibe that I really dig and I think a lot of people would like it! 

So yeah, when the trainees react to Key as of a god has walked into the room, they’re not exaggerating for the camera. Key debuted when some of them were still too young to know how to tie their shoes, and he’s fucking COOL.

His level of fame leaves pretty much every other star master on the show completely in the dust, with the possible exception of Sunmi, who dropped by in episode 3. She's at least maybe kind of on par.

So, yeah, once they manage to rehinge all their jaws, Key gives them the rules of the next mission -- how they’ll all prepare the songs, then find out halfway through who survived and will get to perform them. I love how the trainees are always surprised when the show does exactly what it has done every season since Produce101 season 1. I mean, I know the show has a different name now but it’s still the same show. Six seasons, and you’re shocked? Come on, now. 

Since this is an “artist battle,” let me add in a quick note on the term “artist” in Kpop -- I think I talked about this in another recap but I don’t remember for sure so I’ll risk doing it again. In Korea, it’s understood that idols make idol music, and that artists make, for lack of a better word, “real” music. People like Bibi are understood to be artists, and as such don’t necessarily always dance, or have fan meetings, etc. People like Huta are understood to be idols; they’re praised for their “visuals” (ie, whether or not they have nice faces) and are generally expected to remain single to be a parasocial love object for their fans. They make their money off of brand endorsements as much as concert sales. People like Hui or Jeon Soyeon from G-Idle or G-Dragon from BigBang kind of toe the line between idol and artist, since they write their own songs and manage their own teams, but also happen to be really good looking and usually happy to endorse whatever you have lying around. It’s kind of weird to expect these trainees to be “artists”, but every reality show keeps making things more difficult ever year, even though their contestants aren’t necessarily getting more talented every year. I mean, have you watched the most recent season of Great British Bake Off? What WAS that? But I digress. 

Ok, back to the point. It's an artist battle; they'll be given demo songs and demo choreography, but they're expected to go ahead and change whatever they want and plan the staging and performance.

So the boys listen to the songs and aggressively love them all. My favorite is when they listen to the “oriental pop” song Switch and Seo Won says he feels like he’s abroad. Wut….? I guess to them, “oriental” means India? I also liked when Matthew said, “I don’t want to do sexy concepts” about the sexy song, which like, yes, thank you, Matthew. Figure out what you’re good at, please.  

Then Key tells them that the members of the team that gets ranked first at the Artist Battle will get 200,000 points each, with the “winning” member getting an extra 200,000. That is a substantial benefit, but since it will probably end up going to a mostly top-11 team anyway, it won’t end up mattering. They’ll also end up going on M-Countdown, and, even bigger to them, having a fan meeting. They’re excited about that, and I don’t blame them. 

Oh, I’m having a flashback to that GP999 fan meeting when they were still in the middle of c*vid and all the fans were in their cars in the middle of a field. I’m glad we’re through the worst of that stuff now. I don’t want to go off on a tangent about some of the stuff I experienced living in a huge, hard-hit US city, but it was awful. I bet a lot of us have stories like that, huh? It’ll be one of those things that in five or ten years, when you meet someone for the first time, one of the first things you’ll talk about in the get-to-know-you phase will be “where were you in March of 2020?” Like for the boomers, talking about where they were when they found out that JFK had been shot.

Back to the show. 

So, the boys are finding out which song they got, which means it’s another one of those lengthy “finding out who is in which team” montages, complete with pranks and stuff and it’s not that fascinating…? So I’ll just recap some of the highlights, and then get to the part where they’re actually preparing. 

I-Chan asked for Over Me in that video, but as he was leaving the room the other trainees say he wanted Switch, and that is in fact what he got. 

I really love Park Hyunbeen saying at first that Supercharger didn’t really “suit his taste” (he wanted the cute song, Say My Name, and I agree it would have been a cute performance!) but when he finds out that he got Supercharger after all, he gives a big smile and says that now he’s excited to do that song. Aww, why do I only end up really loving some of these trainees when it’s too late? You’re a cutie pie, Hyunbeen. 

It’s kind of heart breaking to watch Ji Yun Seo and Lee Yedam be so happy to get the song they wanted, knowing what we know. 

THEORY TIME: I think that for the most part, the audience did vote to give trainees what they asked for, and I think that when there were too many trainees for a given song -- “Over Me” and “Say My Name” were very popular -- the producers matched them to songs in order of their rank. Thus, as very few trainees wanted Supercharger, many low-ranked trainees ended up in that song; as Say My Name was heavily requested, it was filled mostly with higher ranked trainees. Just my theory but it seems to explain a lot.

This:

I think that the reason Anthonny seems a little sad when he joins the Switch team is that he wanted Say My Name. But I think Switch could also have been great for Anthonny. 

The fact that Lee DaEul and both “houses” were put in Supercharger seems to confirm my theory that Supercharger was a dumping ground for unpopular trainees who wanted popular songs. That, or the audience put Lee DaEul in Supercharger to continue to punish him for his sins. 

I love Kum Jun Hyeon saying, “Park Gunwook and I decided to be friends. We became friends.” That’s how it works in my little cousin’s world -- he decides to be friends with someone and then is. Knowing that he’s good friends with Gunwook kind of explains that whole scene in episode 6 when he was trying to get Gunwook kicked out of Tomboy so Gunwook would have to come over to Ggang with him. 

I know that the show format encourages the pranking and stuff but it’s really not my favorite. 

Everyone’s reaction to Zhang Hao arriving is amazing. Chen Kuan Jui just picking him up and carrying him around is my favorite bit. 

It’s kind of interesting how Sung Hanbin, Kim JiWoong, and Matthew all wanted to do something “not sexy.” I guess I understand -- most kpop groups do all different concepts, and it’s a valuable skill to be able to pull off a song like Love Me Right and ALSO pull off a song like Love Killa. But still, I just think that Say My Name sounds like every “cute” kpop song thrown into a blender and then put into a “cute song” mold and allowed to solidify there before someone carefully dumped it out onto a plate. I don’t know. I know it’ll get stuck in my head eventually anyway but it’s not like that’s the kind of song I seek out to listen to.

JiWoong says, “I want to perform while smiling.” Do that ANYWAY, JiWoong. If Kai from Exo smiles in the middle of Obsession, you can smile in the middle of Love Killa, JiWoong. 

Ok! Let's talk about each team's preparation.

21:26: En Garde

Here is the En Garde team, with the song that each member wanted, as well as their previous song. I’ve arranged them in order of their Episode 6 rank, which gives you a sense of how likely they are to survive.

Kim Gyu Vin             En Garde                    Love Killa Hui                           En Garde                   Tomboy Park Gunwook         En Garde                    Tomboy Kum Jun Hyeon       En Garde                   Gang Park Hanbin             En Garde                    Law Lee Seung Hwan     Say My Name           Gang Hiroto                        En Garde                    Rush Hour Lee Ye Dam             En Garde                    Law Ji Yun Seo                En Garde                    Home Oh Sung Min            En Garde                    Rush Hour

They have to choose a leader, and Hui is like, WAYYY too invested in being the leader. He wants to work with his “database” and all the know how he’s built up over the years. The editors do him a little dirty, fast forwarding his speech on why he should be leader, and even showing him practicing his speech in the bathroom ahead of time. 

The first time that I laughed out loud at anything that Kum Jun Hyeon has ever done was right here, when, after Hui finishes his lengthy speech, Kum says to the other trainees that their speeches about why they want to be leader “have to be lengthier than this.” I think it threw Hui off a little bit -- he may have been expecting grateful acceptance of his leadership, or else a challenge from Park Hanbin perhaps, but not someone making fun of his careful speech. 

In any case, naturally, Hui is chosen to be the leader. I’d choose him as the leader too. 

The crew members explain that there will be two people chosen for the killing part and other parts, because there are ten of them for now, despite there being six people in the choreography.  And of course, everyone wants to get the killing part, because as usual that means tons more screen time. Gyuvin, JunHyeon, Yedam, Gunwook, YunSeo, and Sungmin all want it. I actually laughed again as all six of them practice the same bit but at slightly different times. The edit focuses primarily on Gyuvin and Gunwook -- as if the other ones are laughable for wanting it. I think Oh Sungmin actually does a great job -- JunHyeon overdances and looks out of control, and we barely see Yedam or Yunseo. 

Side note: Oh Sungmin looked so much better with his real hair color. Why is he doing this blonde curl thing when he is capable of looking like this?  Oh, and while we’re looking at old T01 fancams, check out this one of Woongki, being all serious and charismatic. I know it’s not his personality but he pulls it off, in my opinion. I guess they just both don’t want to do songs like that anymore. 

In any case, Gunwook turns out to be a lock, and then they choose Gyuvin as well. 

We cut to their trainee self-evaluation, and we see them performing. Honestly, they look great for a midway practice run. I wonder if Hui deputized Park Hanbin to run dance rehearsals? I would, in his shoes. A good leader knows how to delegate!

Gyuvin is nervous to be compared to Gunwook, and when it’s his team’s turn to try, Gyuvin chokes a bit and forgets some of the lyrics. Still, later on when they get the evaluation forms back, many trainees choose Gyuvin as the better choice for the center, saying he suits it better. 

Side note: Look at Gyuvin doing a scaled down version of his hero Exo-Kai’s trademark leaning-back slouch.

Obviously, Kai has it down to a limbo-esque art, but Gyuvin is working on it!!! 

The team does well overall. It’s great to see some of the trainees perform the song who won’t get to do it on stage -- good job, you guys. And we’re left with the thought that team En Garde is on track to succeed. 

We’ll have to see 

which member they kick out later on, and 

which member gets to keep the Killing Part. 

At 31:00, we switch over to team Say My Name. 

Everyone in this group wanted this song, so I’ll just list the trainees and their previous song to help remind you of who is who, but this group is full of fairly popular trainees and you’ll probably recognize all or most of them.

Sung Hanbin                         Tomboy Han Yu Jin                           Law Seok Matthew                       Love Killa Kim Ji Woong                       Love Killa Kim Tae Rae                          Man in Love Yoo Seung Eon               Home Seo Won                           Love Killa Takuto                           Rush Hour Ollie                                     Zoom Cha Woong Ki                       Feel Special

The team needs to elect a leader, and there’s this ex-cru-ci-a-ting-ly edited bit about Matthew possibly wanting to be leader and then Sung Hanbin volunteering. I cannot describe how irritating it is. The worst part is from about 31:55  to 32:15. I want to burn their editing studio to the floor. 

So they decide to have Hanbin be the leader, and Kim JiWoong says, “Matthew, I think Hanbin will be good leader,” and Matthew says, “As long as he listens to you.” 

Matthew is doing a lot of that kind of “joking” that people do when they’re not really joking, you know? Ok, so, story time. I’m friends with two people who a couple, and we were all having a board game night, and when one member of the couple went to get another drink, the other one in the couple was like, “Oh, ha ha, he can’t enjoy an evening without drinking too much, ha ha ha ha, guess I better not get a second drink because SOMEONE has to drive home so we don’t end up in a ditch, ha ha ha,” and it was sooooo uncomfortable because she was saying it like it was a joke, but it was NOT a joke. You feel me? That’s the kind of “joking” Matthew is doing. 

That little dig -- “as long as he listens to you” -- manages to imply that (1) any issues JiWoong may have had with Matthew’s leadership stemmed from JiWoong wanting to inappropriately get his own way and (2) that JiWoong’s preference in a leader is rooted in who he thinks will give him his own way rather than in the quality of the leadership and (3) that JiWoong will probably have as much of an issue with Hanbin’s leadership as he did with Matthew’s once Hanbin starts actually giving orders AND (4) that there is no other substantive difference between Hanbin and Matthew’s leadership skills. You see what I mean? There’s a LOT there.

It’s u n c o m f o r t a b l e. 

We don’t see the team choose main vocal -- they must have given it to Yoo Seung Eon -- and instead we go straight to subvocal 1, a substantive part that a lot of people want. One of the people who wants it is TaeRae, who inexplicably is NOT the main vocal, again, what the fuck, everyone. The story editors, though, focus on Matthew wanting sub-vocal-1. He says, “If I don’t get sub-vocal 1, then I’m screwed.” Again, not a good look.

I don’t know if you guys watched I-Land -- the reality show that created Enhypen -- but there was this memorable scene in which a guy named Jay (see what I mean about there being too many Jays in K-pop?) kept trying to get parts. He tried for main vocal, then subvocal 1, then subvocal 2, subvocal 3…. Every time they went to assign another part, he raised his hand. Inside, he was kind of dying as the potential parts got smaller and smaller, but he just kept trying. He ended up with a smallish part in the song, but the audience watching at home fell in love with the way he kept trying. He ended up actually getting into the final lineup for Enhypen.  

Matthew, honey. Listen to BPR-Noona, ok? The audience already knows how well you sing, so you can relax. And truly, there are no small parts, just small players. Why did Sana’s “shy shy shy” take off in Cheer Up by Twice? Just because people liked the way Sana did it. I’m sure it wasn’t designed to be a “killing part.” You don’t need a "killing part" to win, or even a big part. The most important thing for you right now, Matthew, is for you to stop coming across like a greedy rude North American. As a fellow North American, I am telling you, bud. Rope it the fuck in. BPR-Noona has spoken.

In any case, both Matthew and TaeRae get the part, so we’ll have to see what ends up happening!

Then the trainees try out for the Killing Part, and both Ollie and Han Yujin get it. While I actually like both of them, I can’t help but root for Ollie to keep it in the end. He’s almost certainly not going to make the final lineup for Bepler, so I just want him to have this chance to shine on stage. But yeah that’s probably not going to happen -- no team would lower their chance of winning by choosing a trainee who barely survived over a Top9 trainee. 

After that, we focus on Hanbin’s leadership. He starts off by telling them their goal for the day, which just sets my teacher heart on fire in the best way. Goals should always be specific and achievable. Yes, Hanbin, yes. 

Notice (1) the way that the only two “global” members on the team end up on the edges, just kind of interesting and (2) the way that Matthew positions himself as if he is also a leader -- he’s the only one not looking at Hanbin. Already, I have a bad feeling about this. 

Hanbin manages their expectations expertly, letting them know that the choreo is challenging without presenting it as scary, and then demonstrates the choreo once for them. (I love how Han Yujin immediately begins sort of dancing along as he watches in the mirror-- that kid really is kind of amazing.) Hanbin is a great leader, and Matthew is very, very envious of that. In an interview, when asked what he would rate Hanbin out of 100, he “jokes” that he “can’t give him a 100” and so gives him 90. The editors are still kind of on his side. They’re scoring his “jokes” with plinky-plunky comedy music. 

Hey, hey, uh, Matthew? Matt? Hey. It's me, BPR-Noona again. Um, why? Why can’t you give him 100? Isn’t he your friend? Aren’t you hoping to debut together? Why even joke that you can’t give him 100? What’s that about? Is it because you don’t want to place yourself below him in any way? Could it be that? Because other people who are excellent leaders themselves are letting themselves be led in other groups, and aren’t being “joking” jerks about it, Matt. General Gunwook and Park Hanbin are both really excellent leaders, and they’re following Hui in their current group. I don’t know, Matt, but I don’t think that this is a good look, no matter how plinky-plunky the comedy music is. 

Sigh.

Then there’s a hilarious bit in which Kim JiWoong openly admits that he’s never felt jealous of other trainees before, but he does now a little bit, because they so naturally suit the concept of the song in a way he doesn’t quite. Then he says that normally he just looks at himself in the mirror while he dances and enjoys his time that way. OMG. 

See, JiWoong can make jealousy seem just fine because he’s honest about it. And just so fucking weird. I love this weirdo. 

Ok, then there’s this long scene that I don’t want to get too bogged down with, but basically, there’s trouble brewing between old friends Sung Hanbin and Seok Matthew.

While Hanbin is off in the bathroom (I assume), Matthew begins “teaching” some of the others the dance -- Takuto, Seo Won, and Ollie. Now, I don’t think it would hurt anything for someone to run through stuff with Takuto one on one, but I’ve never thought of either Seo Won or Ollie as people who need extra guidance when it comes to dancing -- particularly not Ollie, who actually basically taught his own team the dance in the first Challenge Mission. 

It’s pretty interesting how, when Hanbin comes back in, he doesn’t flip out and immediately make them stop. He watches for a bit and thinks before he acts, which, again, is a sign of a great leader. He knows there’s something a little off, but he waits. He’s also polite about it in his interview, saying, “I am grateful that he [Matthew] wants to help, but my style is to have people learn the overall flow and image of the choreo before moving on to the details.” I wholeheartedly agree with that. Again, it’s that thing of how we normally build the frame of the jigsaw puzzle first, right?  Hanbin also seems to say that some of the details might even change, or perhaps that Matthew is teaching them incorrectly --? Either way, Matthew isn’t helping here. 

Then Matthew full on asks Hanbin if he can be “sub-leader,” and though Hanbin doesn’t think it’s a good idea, he says yes. Dude, I think that’s something that maybe you talk about as a team. Like, “Hey, guys, let’s get into one of those awkward semi-circles and let’s talk about whether or not you want Matthew to be the sub-leader of the team.” But I guess Hanbin doesn’t want to devote the time to that, or was worried it would create division or strife, so he just says yes. Ennnhhhh I don’t like it….

We don’t see any footage of the team performing at the trainee self-eval, interestingly enough.

So, we’ll have to watch to find out

which trainees are going to get kicked out of the team (a lot of them!) 

what will happen between JiWoong and Matthew

what will happen between Hanbin and Matthew and

what will happen between Matthew and TaeRae with the subvocal one!

40:14 Over Me 

Here are the trainees, again arranged in order of rank in episode 6 so you have a sense of who is least likely to survive, with their previous song listed to help jog your memory. All these trainees preferred Over Me except for Ma Jing Xiang, who asked the viewers to give him Say My Name. However, I think the audience might have just voted for him to Over Me anyway -- it’s not impossible. 

Zhang Hao                 Tomboy Keita                             Zoom Jay                             Home Ricky                             Rush Hour Yoon Jong Woo     Home Wang Zi Hao                Law Chen Kuan Jui     Butterfly Ma Jing Xiang             Rush Hour Lee Jeong Hyeon     Gang Lim Jun Seo                Butterfly

The team starts off by trying to choose a leader, and it seems that some of them are reluctant to volunteer. Zhang Hao says that everyone should just take a moment to think about whether they want such a big responsibility, and then Yoon Jong Woo steps up. Almost immediately, the whole team says an enthusiastic yes. Jay says that JongWoo has cold eyes like a tiger but behind that he’s a genius. Heh. Everyone’s excited because they think that being on a team with JongWoo will give the team a good vibe.

Almost all of them want the killing part -- everyone but Jay, Lim Jun Seo, and JongWoo himself. 

We see their auditions and are reminded again how great Keita’s and Hao’s vocals are. In the vote, Keita gets 4 votes and Hao gets 5. It’s noteworthy that Hao is the only one who didn’t vote for Keita or himself -- I think he voted for Ricky, but it might have been Chen Kuan Jui? It’s not clear from where his finger is pointing. But if Hao had voted for Keita, the way that Keita voted for Hao, it would have been a tie. Did Hao purposefully not vote for Keita in order to win? Hey, you gotta do what you gotta do. 

Side note: I’m kind of surprised that Keita didn’t volunteer to be leader. This seems right up his ally. But maybe he’s kind of exhausted after working so hard on Zoom. Or maybe he knows that the show will punish his team if he’s the leader. But when he’s not the leader, Keita becomes an excellent teammate instead. Just watch the way that he reacts to EVERYTHING here. He grins broadly at the idea of JongWoo being the leader, and even puts his fist in the air to cheer for the team. He laughs with genuine good humor when almost all the teammates apply for the killing part. Later, he grooves to everyone else’s singing. He’s a fan of every other member of his team. That’s the kind of teammate people want to be around. Just sayin’.

After that, the team moves forward with part distribution, and there’s an uncomfortable moment in which Ma Jing Xiang tries to ask for a section of a part that is in his vocal range. It’s also edited horrifically, with TRIPLE replays of MJX’s incorrect Korean.  Yoon Jong Woo shuts him down extremely thoroughly. Then we also focus on how MJX continues dancing even when Jong Woo calls the team over to circle up. You get the feeling that Jong Woo genuinely dislikes MJX, and it’s a little uncomfortable because all or most of the team feels the same way. 

Like, Yoon Jong Woo is not fucking around. Not one bit. I get it, because MJX seems like a pretty irritating person to be around sometimes, but it might be a bit… much. 

The other storyline is that Lee Jeong Hyeon (that’s Lee of the Mun and Lee duo) thinks that there’s a spot in the song that he could write a rap for. His teammates support him in that. The next day, they go to the producers and Lee gets to do the rap he wrote in less than a day for them. The editing here gets REALLY annoying for a bit so feel free to skip ahead if you want -- the upshot is the producers say they like it and will consider it, so that seems like a win for Lee! 

So we’ll have to find out:

Which teammates they’re going to kick out

Who will get to keep the Killing Part between Keita and Hao

Whether Lee Jeong Hyeon will get to do his rap

50:01 Switch

Here are the trainees, again arranged in order of rank in episode 6 so you have a sense of who is least likely to survive. A lot of these trainees had bene hoping for a different song, as listed in the second column. I’ve also listed their previous song to help jog your memory. 

Zhang Shuai Bo          Switch               Feel Special Na Kamden                 Switch               Law Cai Jin Xin Switch             Feel Special Anthonny Say My Name Limousine Brian             Say My Name      Butterfly Dang Hong Hai Switch                   Home Wumuti Switch                  Zoom Krystian Switch                  Limousine Jung I Chan Over Me             Not Spring Choi Woo Jin Switch                   Man in Love Lee Dong Gun Over Me             Feel Special

So, this team, as leader Wumuti put it, is “nomu down.” (nomu = very) And with good reason -- their average final rank is 38, and as it happens, only a very small percentage of this team is going to survive. 

Wumuti is doing his best, but his team knows that most of them aren’t going to make it through the eliminations, and it seems kind of like a waste of time to them to try. The sense I get of the vibe of the song is that they would be good choices even if other people DID want the parts. 

Because no one else wants the killing part, Na Kamden and Wumuti take it. Wumuti is hoping that as they continue, that they’ll “find joy.” 

For some reason, as I was watching this, I found myself thinking, “What would I say as the leader of this team, to get them to try?” And I think what I would have said is this: “Hey team. I know a lot of us are discouraged right now because the reality is that many of us, myself included, may get eliminated soon. But I still really want to try my best preparing for this song. So, let’s brainstorm reasons that we should still try our hardest, despite the circumstances. I’ll get us started by pointing out the cameras that are recording us, right now. Everything we’re doing right now? The Star Creators may see that in an upcoming episode. Some of them are Star Creators who may have voted for us in the past, or might become fans of us in the future, when we’re on a different stage. Don’t we want to do our best, for them?” Then maybe based on the vibe, I’d have us go around and each give our own reason for wanting to try our best, or else just let people say things, or if necessary, give more reasons myself, like  “We want to be kpop performers or we wouldn’t be here -- don’t we want to practice just for the sake of improving?” You have to get a buy-in from the people you’re trying to lead. 

Me saying this isn’t knocking Wumuti. I think he was doing a fantastic job, especially considering his quite low rank. 

Anyway, then the show spends like 3 minutes just shitting on Jung I-Chan, who obviously could work a bit on his focus (I really do wonder if he might have something in the vicinity of ADD?) and who is obviously feeling super defeated. He never has been much of a dancer, so him having trouble with the choreo is probably just too much. At some point, his self-defense mechanisms would kick in and tell him to just give up because it’s safer. I just don’t think the guy is cut out for this stuff, but that doesn’t make him a bad person, MNET. Jeez. He even tells Wumuti, “I want to work hard, but I’m scared to work hard. It’s over.” 

And the show just HAMMERS on I-chan, even though Lee Donggun is just as “lazy.” It’s like MNET is trying to destroy this kid who obviously has some mental health issues. 

It makes perfect sense that Kamden, Brian, and Dang Hong Hai would keep trying, but I was a little surprised to see how hard Krystian keeps trying, though! I thought he was pretty much OVER the show. Maybe it’s just sort of in his nature to keep singing and dancing when he has the chance to do so. 

At the trainee self eval, they actually look pretty cool.

I totally understand why Wumuti is irritated with I-Chan, though. I would be too, in his shoes. There’s no easy way through a situation like this. 

We see him in the dorm later, wearing his official pink pajamas, and talking to someone who I can’t really see but might be Na Kamden. I don’t think we’ve ever spent this much time with Wumuti, ever. He’s such a sweetheart, though. 

At their meeting with the composer oversees -- at which they seem to communicate mostly in English -- Wumuti has a lot of ideas, and the composer seems to really enjoy the conversation. The choreographers are also impressed at their dance rehearsal. These are the kinds of things that people remember, my friends. It’s not just about how many audience members like you -- it’s also great if producers and choreographers and staff like you. That is how sometimes you can get gigs. 

So I console myself that even though most of this team doesn’t survive to perform the song -- and yes, that includes Wumuti, I don’t think that’s much of a surprise and I did warn you that there would be some mild spoilers -- I think that good things can still happen for them in the future. 

Hey, go follow Wumuti on insta, ok? Even if you don’t use insta much, it just helps him to keep his numbers up. He has a nice cover up of UN Village, and a long note he wrote in English about his time on the show. Fighting, Wumuti, sweetie!

So, I guess the questions to be answered are:

Who among this team will survive? 

What will it be like for the replacement team members to jump into this work in progress?

1:00:00 Supercharger 

So, not a lot of trainees wanted Supercharger. Among those who asked for it, all of them got it. A lot of the rest wanted the super cheerful “Say My Name” or the sexy “Over Me,” and this song is neither cheerful nor sexy. It’s easily my least favorite of the five, and I think that’s how most of the trainees felt as well. Below I list the trainees assigned to this song, the song they asked for, and their previous song.

Haruto                         Supercharger           Zoom Mun Jung Hyun Say My Name Gang Jung Min Gyu            Over Me           Man in Love Chen Jian Yu             Supercharger           Gang Park Ji Hoo             Supercharger           Limousine Cong                         Supercharger           Butterfly Bak Do Ha             Over Me             Not Spring Lee Da Eul             Say My Name Not Spring Lee Dong Yeol           Over Me             Man in Love Park Hyunbeen Say My Name Zoom

We don’t seem them pick a leader -- it’s Lee Dongyeol -- or the killing part -- they give it to Haruto and Park JiHoo, good call. Instead, we pick up with the trainees as they are watching the demo performance on their tablet. The choreo is difficult to say the least. The song still requires a lot of tweaks to the rap, performance, and choreo, and most of the team doesn’t really have the skill. They have Haruto, who can probably choreograph, and Park Ji Hoo, who can definitely write raps, plus I think Mun Jung Hyun and Park Hyunbeen are both into rapping and might be able to help a bit.  Lee Dong Yeol debuted with Up10tion in 2015 and must have learned something about performance by now.  But the rest of them, as Dong Yeol puts it, “aren’t there yet.”

They seem to be putting on a happy face as much as possible, especially Hyunbeen, who probably doesn’t want to be remembered for how much he cried at the first elimination. 

They talk about how they want to put on a good performance, and my theory is that what they mean is, they want to put on a good performance at the trainee self-eval. That’s the performance that they know is guaranteed to them, right? And they want to do really well there. 

If you operate under that theory, everything else they’re doing makes sense. They’re not dwelling on their low ranks. They are instead working really, really hard. Haruto is the dance captain, leading the rest -- Jung Min Gyu (red house) calls him “Haruto-sensai,” which is pretty adorable. 

They are trying so, so hard. The dance is probably the hardest of the five and the average dance abilities of this group is probably the lowest of the five, but goddamn if they aren’t trying, you guys, and it’s charming. Haruto is complimenting them, and they’re saying “This is fun!” and stuff. 

The other teams go back to the dorms to sleep…. 

… but all ten of them stay and keep practicing. Even back in their dorms, they’re continuing to practice in the hallways and their rooms. Trainees from the other teams notice and cheer them on.

At the trainee self eval, though, things go off the rail pretty fast. No one really sings, and they sort of lose their place in the choreo a few times. I think they rehearsed in a big group of tne, looking into the mirror the whole time, and didn’t work enough on performing as a group of five and singing along, without a mirror. They keep trying to pick it back up, but it’s a mess.

The other trainees are looking at them like this:

Kum Jun Hyeon says to a friend, “Wow, the choreo must just be THAT hard” -- that’s such a sweetly empathetic thing to say, cousin.  Park Hanbin is doing that thing he does where he smiles because he’s shocked. Hui is squinting at them, as if trying to imagine how he could fix it somehow. And Lee Yedam is just like, a full body Aigoo. Things don’t go better for the second team. 

It’s just heartbreaking. Afterward, Haruto is crying from embarrassment, and a few of the others are near tears too. The choreo is just too fucking hard for them. They probably should have focused on simplifying it a little, and maybe building in some rest periods, where a few dance a few don’t and then they switch. 

When they get the trainee evaluation forms, the feedback is brutal. But Park Hyunbeen says that this isn’t the worst. “The worst,” he says, “Was when I wore that vest for the Hot Sauce hidden camera.” Then he adds, “I was born to do Super Charger. I went on Boys Planet to perform that song and I don’t ever want to go home. I’ll make sure to survive and perform SuperCharger.” If only the show aired some of this footage before the voting period was over, lovey, but at least we see some of your mettle now. You’re a charming guy, Park Hyunbeen. Fighting!

So the questions that remain are:

Which trainees, if any, will survive? 

Which trainees will end up joining this team?

What will happen when they join -- will anyone be able to dance this choreo?

After that, there’s this bit where Seo Won and Cha Woongki go around and are silly with the other trainees -- the Planet Camp Tour --  and it’s cute, but I don’t have a lot to say about it. 

I still think Ollie was dumb to jam his finger into the camera and say that it smells bad. But he doesn’t know about my theory about bad smells on reality shows. Basically, something I’ve noticed is that on audience-vote-based reality survival shows, like So You Think You Can Dance, if someone on the show is revealed to smell bad at some point, they nearly ALWAYS go home the following week. Like once on SYTYCD, one of the dancers was complaining cheerfully that her dance partner had awful Doritos breath. Gone the next week. Another time, one of the dancers was joking about how awful he smelled at the end of a day of dance practice. Gone the next week. It doesn’t happen on shows where the judges decide, like RPDR or ANTM, but it happens whenever there’s an audience vote. Seriously, watch for it from now on. Let me know if you have another data point to add to my research on this. 

Anyway, the final moments we see before the eliminations start are all the trainees in their dorms probably the night before. We see a conversation between Hui and Kim Gyuvin, who worked together on Love Me Right and are together again on En Garde. It’s cute because Gyuvin doesn’t really fit on the bed. 

Gyuvin is worrying not about this elimination, but about the final one. It’s far more likely, he reasons, that he’ll be one of the 89 who don’t get into Bepler than to be one of the 9 who do. Hui is worried too. “If I were a Star Creator,” he says, “would I vote for an idol in his 30s? Even I wouldn’t do that.” Oh Hui. Then why did you come on the show, sweetheart? Why on god’s green earth did you do this to yourself?

We see Wumuti talking to his friend again -- it has to be Na Kamden, but I still can’t get a look at his face or get any other clue. “ ‘Give up,’ “ he says. “I used to say those words to myself once in a while. But I can’t seem to. I want it so badly.” Oh, twist that knife, MNET. 

Then we check in with Ji Yunseo and and Lee Yedam, who are with a friend in a mask who I can’t identify. The fucking subtiles say that Lee Yedam is Oh Sungmin, and I mean, omg, MNET, Sungmin has blonde hair right now, what the actual fuck.  

Then we check in Cha Woongki for a while, while he calmly but sadly talks about how he’s not really that popular and even expected to come in last in Feel Special. Now they’re not just twisting the knife; they’ve attached it to a power drill and are just spinning that thing at like 200 rpm.

Then there’s a bit with the boys all writing final messages on the wall about their time on the show. It’s as sad as you’d think it would be. A lot of the notes are addressed to the star creators. I hope that the boys are at least happy to know that people did vote for them, even if they didn’t win. Every single one of them got hundreds of thousands of votes. That must mean something, right? I do a creative performance thing myself, and I recently was eliminated in the second round of something, but people came up to me afterward and said that they voted for me and thought I was the best and were sad I’d been knocked out, and that meant a lot. 

And then the eliminations start.

Alright, loves! Thanks for reading! At this point, episode 9 is out and I haven’t even watched it yet, so I guess I’ll get on that. As always, I really appreciate the support -- some of you have sent in asks that I really loved and just haven’t responded to yet because I have the thoughts in my head and haven’t had a chance to type them. You guys are great. Hope that you’re having a good day and that you’re warm and cozy wherever you are. See you in the next one.

[tiffanylamps]

I LITERALLY JUST HEARD THIS SONG BUT IT FEELS SO MUCH LIKE JWDS & I NEEDED TO TELL YOU IMMEDIATELY

got the title? can you see the picture? if you can’t, it’s ‘i want it all’ by duncan laurence. by god, this song has effectively ruined me & i’m only on my second listen. please believe me when i say these lyrics are for them.

“i suddenly realize / there’s only so much time / i wanna give you mine” THIS FIRST PART ALONE HAS ME IN A CHOKEHOLD. THIS IS THEM CLOSER TO THE END OF THE SHOW I DON’T KNOW HOW TO DEAL

secondly? the chorus is so beautiful. “i’ve waited all my life for you” & “i want the good and the bad, the highs and the lows” & old habits die tragic” & “need you to love me like no one has loved me before” & “there’s magic in madness” just every freaking word of these lyrics gives me the most insane need to rewatch the show & to see them fall in love again. i feel nuts right now, or i’m at least toeing the edge of that feeling

anyway…i hope you’re doing well! thought you might find my rambling a little entertaining, & you’re the person i always come to so i can scream about them, so yeah!!

love you, bo! 💛🌷

LIGHTE!!!! Happy Valentine's Day!!! 💛💐 Okay, so, this song! Oh my goodness, it is so THEM! Although it's not my favourite style (/genre) of music, it really got me in my feels. I was a lil sappy mess, sitting in a blanket poncho/hoodie thing (I was given a cheaper version of an oodie as a v-day gift), getting all emotional because of Them. The lyrics you've already pointed out really shone through for me. But I got sooooo emo over the "I've waited all my life for you" lyric!!!! I don't know if it's because I'm working on a Dong Sik project at the moment (👀) or something, but this song really made me think of him. It feels like these would be the thoughts he would think in an idealistic post-canon world, one where he is more at peace and is sooo desperate to have Joo Won in his life (in a very permanent way). This song does feel desperate and I mean that as a compliment. Loving someone else, despite your history and reservations, can leave one feeling very desperate and ultimately, vulnerable. Especially if you're feeling resolute to have that person in your life. idk.... it just feels so Them. I feel like they're both so desperate for the other, even if they don't know how to articulate that into words. (but oh boy, don't they say it in a language only they speak??????)

🤭🤭 Also, I'm going to encourage you to rewatch the show!!! I don't how many times you've seen it, but why not see it another time??? I've recently watched episodes 5, 9, 13 with the bf and I didn't know I still had so much to say about this show. I recorded our conversations and I've got over three and a half HOURS of chat 🥴 This show has so much to give and it honestly gets better with each viewing. I love your ramblings! I especially love music recommendations! So, this was a lovely treat to have. Thank you for continuing to share your thoughts with me. I really appreciate that I'm the person you want to share them with! Hope you're well! Sending you love through pixels on a screen💛💛

🎵 the song in question 🎵

[vs-redemption]

*Bokuto smiles big welcoming you between his arms despite the amount of bags he was carrying and softly reciprocates the kiss definitely closing the house door behind him*

Glad to know you had a great day as well baby owlet! And of course I am into spoiling you! You are my favourite person in the world. How could I not spoil you? I brought your favourite from that fancy restaurant you love, some Mochis for dessert and also a little present for you. I noticed you got an eye on it the last time we went window shopping so... I thought it would be a great present to celebrate the end of the academic year and the beginning of our holidays... And... About that last minute trip...

*he takes several flyers from different travel agencies and puts them on the coffee table*

Just choose our destination. I'm so happy to be done with the season that I just want some rest and to escape routine for a while. But first... Let me hear this all up and put the Mochis on the fridge... Do you think I will have the time to change into some comfortable sweatpants and a T-shirt first? *He asks curiously* I'll be back in a minute *He adds happily leaving you with a kiss* love you baby owlet!

Bokuto K.

( Hi there sending some good boy Bo towards you! He says that he misses you so I had no option but to send him your way! 😉😊😘)

*It always felt so good to be in Bokuto’s arms. He really did give the best hugs. You could feel his strength and love in the way he squeezed just enough. And somehow, it still made me blush when he brushes his lips against mine.*

You’re my favorite person too. *his declarations always sounded so exaggerated, but anyone that knew Bo also knew that he truly meant it. He had big emotions that he felt strongly, deeply, and genuinely.* So that’s what smells so good. And mochi too? Did you get matcha flavor, coffee, or something else?

*my heart kept when he mentioned a gift. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but I knew what I hoped he meant by the item I’d looked at longingly the last time he and I had gone shopping. That’s would be a bit of a pricey gift though.* if this is that French chef knife I was drooling over then you really are spoiling me baby. Should I open it now?

*Another wave of excite bubbles up inside me when he pulls out the travel brochures. Taking a trip with him sounded amazing and I couldn’t wait to spend some time just the two of us.* Go ahead and go get changed Bo. We can look at the pamphlets together while we eat dinner and cuddle. I’m afraid I’m going to be a little clingy tonight since I finally have you all to myself.

(Ahhh thank you so much. I needed some big teddy bear Bokuto! He cheers me up with his affection)