#May felt like it was a thousand years long and I seem to have read some of these in another lifetime

[carnationworld-writings]

The Man He Didn’t Have to Be (Tim Bradford x fem!reader)

To read my other works, check my MASTERLIST !

Paring: Tim Bradford x reader

Universe: The Rookie

Word Count: 3857

Requested: No

Warnings: pregnancy, divorce, ex-husband who is a piece of s*it, mention of childbirth

If I forgot about anything feel free to write to me. Your well-being is a top priority to me.

Summary: When her world crumbles, Tim is there to step up.

Author’s note:

Surprise! I am alive! I know it's not what you wanted but, I started watching "The Rookie" and fell in love with Tim! So I needed to write something about him. I also may have a baby fever (again...) So this fic happened. Enjoy!

Thank you for taking the time to read my work! I would greatly appreciate any feedback you may have as it motivates me to continue improving. Please don't hesitate to share your thoughts!

And please forgive any grammar or spelling errors, as English is not my first language.

Klaudia 💜

Every time she thought her life couldn’t get worse, something new seemed to be waiting for her. First, her husband announced he was leaving, telling her he’d found a woman he loved in a way he had never loved her. She tried to fight for their marriage and convince him to change his mind, but nothing worked. With a broken heart, she finally decided to let him go. Even though her heart shattered into a thousand pieces, she signed the divorce papers. She attempted to rebuild her life—she found a small apartment, focused on her work, and tried not to sink into depression during the long, lonely hours. Thankfully, she wasn’t entirely alone. Tim Bradford, her best friend for years, had always been by her side, even in the middle of the night when she couldn’t stop crying or obsessing over what had gone wrong in her relationship. He was her rock, her greatest support.

Just when she thought her life was starting to settle down, she began feeling unwell. At first, she attributed it to stress, but eventually, she connected the dots and took a pregnancy test, which came back positive. She knew her ex-husband deserved to know the truth, even if he hadn’t been entirely honest with her. So, she texted him and asked to meet. What followed, however, was nothing short of her worst nightmare.

When they met at the café, she felt as if time had slowed down. He sat across from her, completely indifferent, as if everything that had happened between them was a closed chapter. He looked at her with a cold gaze, waiting for her to speak. She struggled to gather the strength to say the words that had been swirling in her head for days.

“I’m pregnant,” she finally said, looking straight at him, searching for any reaction. His face remained expressionless. For a moment, she thought maybe he hadn’t heard her. But after a second, his lips tightened, and his eyes showed a flicker of displeasure.

“The relationship between us was over long before I found someone else. This changes nothing,” he said coldly. Those words cut her like a knife. 

“I’m not telling you to come back to me… It’s your child and deserves to have a father… ” she tried to insist, though her voice trembled.

“That’s your problem. You’ll have to deal with it,” he replied emotionlessly, standing up from the table as if the meeting had been nothing more than an irritating interruption in his perfectly arranged new life.

When he left, she felt as if the world was collapsing around her. Tears welled up in her eyes, but this time, she wasn’t going to cry. Instead, she pulled out her phone and called Tim. As soon as he heard her voice, he knew something was wrong.

“Where are you?” he asked, no questions needed. “I’m on my way.”

It wasn’t even fifteen minutes before Tim was by her side, his eyes filled with concern. Without a word, he pulled her close, letting her lean on him as she fought back the tears. In his presence, she felt the tension in her body begin to ease.

“Tim… There’s something you should know. I…” She took a shaky breath. She felt his hold tighten around her. He rested his cheek against her head, softly rubbing her back with his hand.

“Whatever it is, we’ll handle it together. Like we always do,” he said calmly, trying to give her as much comfort as possible.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered, feeling a lump in her throat. “And it’s his. But he said it’s only my problem. He doesn’t want anything to do with this baby…” For a moment, his face showed surprise, as if he was trying to process what he had just heard. He didn’t say anything at first, pulling back slightly to look at her, and she wasn’t sure how he would react. She feared that silence, that hesitation.

“Okay,” he finally said, slowly. Tim pressed his lips together, clearly upset, though he tried to stay calm. “He’s a jerk. But you won’t go through this alone. You’ll never be alone—I won’t let that happen.”

True to his word, Tim never let her feel alone. From the moment he learned about her pregnancy, he stepped naturally into a role that felt both essential and reassuring. He took over her usual shopping, refusing to let her carry a single bag, insisting it was the least he could do. Each morning, he arrived at her door with fresh breakfast, right after his run with Kojo, the loyal dog who seemed to sense the changes happening in their lives.

Even during his shifts, Tim made it a point to check-in. He texted her regularly, asking how she felt, and called just to hear her voice, attuned to any subtle shifts in her mood. But his favourite part of the day was always the evenings when he would come to her home. Most nights, she greeted him with a smile, though the fatigue etched on her face often told a different story. Each time, he pulled her into a warm embrace, holding her like a protective blanket. Some nights she hugged him back just as tightly; other times, she simply leaned into him, letting him hold her. On those nights, he sent her to the couch, where Kojo would curl up beside her, resting his head on her lap, seeking her affection.

Tim loved cooking dinner for them, always mindful of preparing meals that wouldn’t upset her stomach. He quickly learned what she could tolerate and what made her feel worse. On the rare occasions, his cooking didn’t go as planned, he would kneel beside her in the bathroom, holding her hair back and rubbing her back—his unwavering support something she had come to rely on deeply.

What he cherished most were their late-night conversations. They talked endlessly, about work, their future, and even the small details of their day. These talks deepened their bond with each passing evening.

But tonight felt different. From the moment he arrived, he noticed the exhaustion in her eyes, the way her thoughts seemed miles away. Sensing the shift, he suggested watching a movie they’d been meaning to catch up on. She quietly agreed, thankful for the distraction, and didn’t protest when he pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her.

As they settled in, her hand absentmindedly rested on her stomach, where a small bump had just begun to show. Though she tried not to dwell on it, her mind wandered back to something a colleague had said earlier. The words echoed painfully in her thoughts—that it was her fault her husband had left, and that Tim was only with her out of pity. The sting of those words hung heavy on her heart. Tim had always been her rock, but now, more than ever, she felt guilty leaning on him. This wasn’t his burden to carry; she had to find her strength in the chaos.

“Tim,” she began softly, breaking the silence. “I feel like I’ve dragged you into something you didn’t sign up for. This isn’t your responsibility. Me, this baby… we’re not your burden.”

Tim frowned, shaking his head firmly. “That’s not how I see it. I want to be here. I choose to be here. You’re important to me—always have been, always will be. Now that just extends to your baby too. You’re not dragging me into anything. I’m choosing this.”

She blinked back the tears threatening to spill over. The certainty in his voice made her heart ache in the best possible way. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to go through this alone. Yet doubt still lingered on the edges of her mind.

“Are you sure?” she whispered, her hands trembling slightly. “This is going to change everything.”

“I’m sure,” he replied without hesitation. Gently, he placed his hand over hers, almost covering her small bump. “We’re in this together. All three of us.” They both chuckled softly as Kojo, lying contentedly by her feet, gave a small bark. “Alright, four of us,” Tim added with a grin.

She nodded slowly and leaned back against his side. No matter what uncertainties lay ahead, Tim brought peace and safety into her life. As she felt him press a soft kiss on the top of her head, she knew that he was in this 100 percent. With him by her side, she felt ready to face every step of the journey ahead.

As the movie played in the background, a warm sense of comfort washed over her. Despite the unknowns of the future, she had her best friend, someone who believed in both her and the life they were building together. And together, they could face whatever came next.

The quiet hum of the ultrasound machine filled the small room, the rhythmic beeps syncing with her heartbeat. The sound, once foreign and unnerving, had become strangely comforting, marking each milestone of a journey she’d never thought possible. Lying back, her hand rested gently on her growing belly, feeling the warmth of the life moving inside her—a sensation that was as awe-inspiring as it was surreal. The nurse moved the cold, gel-covered probe across her skin, and though a shiver ran up her spine, she barely registered it. Her eyes were locked on the screen, waiting for the familiar grainy image of her baby to appear.

And then it did—a blur at first, slowly sharpening into the unmistakable shape of tiny hands and feet, twisting and turning as if to greet them. A soft gasp escaped her lips. No matter how many times she witnessed this, it always left her breathless.

Tim sat beside her, his eyes fixed on the monitor, a quiet smile playing on his lips. His face, usually so composed, softened with awe. He had always been good at hiding his emotions, but moments like these stripped away his calm facade. Without thinking, his hand found hers, their fingers entwining in a silent exchange of support. He gave her a gentle squeeze, then leaned in and pressed a light kiss on the top of her hand. It was a gesture so natural, so full of unspoken affection, that it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

"Everything looks perfect," the nurse said, her tone upbeat as she wiped the gel from her belly. "Baby’s healthy and growing right on track."

She nodded, a wave of relief washing over her. The tight knot of anxiety that had taken up residence in her chest loosened—if only a little. Each passing month had brought new fears and uncertainties, but slowly, those feelings were giving way to cautious hope. It had taken longer than she expected to feel this way, but now, she could finally begin to see herself as a mother. And in every vision of that future, Tim was always there, steady and unwavering, just as he had been from the beginning.

After the appointment, Tim stood and offered her his hand, helping her off the exam table with the ease of someone who had been there through every step. His presence had become her constant, a source of comfort she hadn’t known she would need but now couldn’t imagine living without. Over the months, he had kept every promise, never wavering, never complaining—always there, even when she didn’t know how to ask for help.

“How are you feeling?” he asked as they stepped outside the clinic, the crisp air hitting their faces. His hand hovered near her arm, close but not quite touching—a subtle, protective gesture, ready to catch her if she stumbled.

“I’m good,” she said, a small smile pulling at her lips. “Better than I’ve felt in a long time.”

He nodded, clearly pleased, though his eyes still scanned hers, searching for any sign of discomfort or worry. “You’re handling this like a champ,” he said softly.

She let out a light laugh. “I don’t always feel like it, but I’m trying.”

As they walked to his car, their footsteps fell into an easy rhythm, the silence between them comfortable and familiar. When they reached the car, Tim opened the passenger door for her, but before getting in, she paused, turning to face him, her expression suddenly serious.

“Tim,” she began, her voice quiet but steady, “you’ve been amazing. I wouldn’t have made it this far without you. I mean it. You’ve taken care of us—even though you didn’t have to.”

He looked at her, his warm, reassuring smile never faltering. “You don’t need to thank me,” he replied softly. “I’m just glad I can be here.”

But she saw something flicker in his eyes—something deeper, something he wasn’t saying. Tim was always so careful, so controlled with his emotions, but she had known him long enough to recognize when he was holding something back. Yet she didn’t press him. Not now.

As they drove back to her apartment, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—baby names they hadn’t yet decided on, the nursery they were slowly piecing together, and the never-ending stream of baby books filling her apartment. They laughed about the absurd number of gadgets people swore they "needed" for a newborn, trading jokes about the most ridiculous ones.

Yet beneath their playful banter, there was a tension neither acknowledged, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air. Tim had always kept his distance emotionally, respectful of her space, never pushing her for more than she was ready to give. He had made it clear from the start that he was there to support her, no matter what, and he had lived up to that promise in every way. But that didn’t stop his heart from racing when she smiled, or the way his pulse quickened when their hands brushed accidentally.

He had loved her for years—long before she had married before everything had fallen apart with her ex-husband. Tim had watched her fall for someone else, had been there when her heart broke, and now, here he was, still by her side. Taking care of her, taking care of the baby that wasn’t his.

He never said anything. He couldn’t. His feelings had to wait. Right now, all that mattered was her and the baby. His love, his desires—they would come later. For now, being there was enough. It had to be.

As the weeks passed, their lives settled into a comforting rhythm, though they didn’t notice the subtle shift that began to happen between them. Unspoken feelings hovered just beneath the surface, and they found themselves growing closer, more open with one another. Friends started to notice too. They exchanged knowing smiles as Tim’s touch lingered a little longer on her arm or back.

Angela Lopez had rolled her eyes more than once when hearing endless stories about “Tim’s friend” and all the thoughtful things he did for her and the baby. Whenever she visited the station with sweet treats for everyone, Angela often caught Tim and her in quiet moments, where their connection seemed palpable. More than once, Angela noticed the way she would place his hand over her bump when the baby kicked, and how Tim responded with a smile that said more than words ever could.

The biggest change came one evening while they were assembling the crib. She sat comfortably in a rocking chair, one hand resting on her belly, the other absentmindedly petting Kojo’s head as he lay beside her. The dog had become as protective of her as Tim was, always at her side when he could be.

She watched as Tim wrestled with the instruction manual, his brow furrowed in concentration. “You’re doing it wrong,” she teased, smiling.

“I am not,” he shot back, glancing up with mock indignation. “I’ve got this.”

As he fumbled with the crib parts, she laughed—a sound that felt like a rare gift these days. For a moment, it was just like old times—before the pregnancy, before the heartbreak. Just the two of them, shared an easy, familiar joy that felt like home.

Tim looked up from the pieces scattered on the floor and froze for a second, watching her laugh. He hadn’t heard that sound in too long. It was unguarded, real. He smiled, letting himself soak in the moment.

“Well, if you’re so good at this, why don’t you help instead of just sitting there judging my work?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

She grinned. “I’m perfectly comfortable where I am, thanks. Besides, you’re doing great. It’s... entertaining.”

He chuckled and shook his head, returning to the task, muttering under his breath about her stubbornness. But secretly, he didn’t mind. Knowing she was there, watching him, laughing—it felt right. Like this was exactly where they were meant to be.

As the crib finally took shape, something between them shifted. There was an unspoken understanding in the air, something neither had fully acknowledged until now. Tim glanced at her, and for a moment, they simply stared at each other.

He reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek longer than necessary. She leaned into his touch, her breath catching in her throat.

That was all the encouragement he needed.

Without thinking, Tim leaned in and kissed her, softly at first, hesitant. But when she kissed him back, her hand slipping to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, it felt like the most natural thing in the world. This—this—was where they were always meant to end up.

Together.

She struggled to breathe deeply as she slowly made her way down the hospital corridor, her grip tightening around the IV stand. Another contraction surged through her, pulling a low moan from her lips. She tried to focus on the gentle support of Nyla’s hand on her arm, but the pain was too consuming—sharp and overwhelming. When it finally ebbed, she glanced over at Nyla, her eyes filled with worry.

“Have you heard from Tim?” Her voice cracked, and tears welled up as she caught Nyla’s sympathetic smile.

“I texted him, and Grey knows to pass the message along. He’s coming,” Nyla reassured her. “Tim wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

She nodded, but a flicker of doubt gnawed at her. “I hope so… I don’t know if I can do this without him.” Her words were barely more than a whisper, her emotions unravelling.

“You’re stronger than you think,” Nyla said softly, her hand squeezing in quiet encouragement. “But he’ll be here, don’t worry.”

She tried to smile, but the uncertainty lingered. Tim had been her rock for so long—how could she face this moment without him? Nyla’s presence was a comfort, but it wasn’t the same.

They continued their slow walk back to the room for another check-up. The nurse met them with a concerned expression before examining her. When she announced that she was still far from delivering, a groan of frustration escaped her. She sank onto the bed, burying her face in her hands.

“I don’t know how much more I can take,” she whispered, her voice thick with exhaustion. “I just want to hold my baby.” Nyla brushed a lock of hair from her face, her steady presence an anchor.

“Soon,” she promised gently. “Soon.”

The hours crawled by in a blur of contractions and fleeting moments of rest. She clung to Nyla’s guidance, her body trembling from fatigue until the door suddenly swung open. Her breath caught as Tim rushed inside, his face flushed with worry.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he said, hurrying to her side. His hand found hers instantly, and the crushing weight of fear lifted just a little.

“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice breaking with relief as fresh tears filled her eyes. He pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, his touch grounding her in the storm of pain and anxiety.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead. His presence radiated warmth, steadying her as another contraction gripped her.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she managed between ragged breaths, her emotions spiralling. “I don’t know how I’d get through this without you.”

“You would,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “But now that I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” His gaze held hers, his thumb brushing soothing circles on her skin as another wave of pain washed over her.

They endured the hours together, Tim never leaving her side. His strength, and his quiet, unwavering support gave her the determination she needed to push through. The world blurred around them as they focused on bringing this new life into the world.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, the sharp, piercing cry of a newborn filled the room. She gasped, tears streaming down her face as the nurse placed the tiny, wriggling bundle on her chest. Her arms instinctively wrapped around the baby, and she looked up at Tim. His eyes were wide, filled with awe and tears he didn’t bother to wipe away.

She looked down at the baby, overwhelmed by the fragile, perfect little face scrunched up in protest. "Hi, sweet baby," she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. Her fingers brushed gently over the baby’s soft cheek. "I’m your mom."

Tim stood by her side, his hand resting on her shoulder as he gazed at the baby with pure wonder. When he finally spoke, his voice was thick with emotion. "She’s perfect," he whispered, unable to look away.

“We did it,” she whispered, her eyes meeting his in a moment of shared joy.

Tim bent down, pressing a kiss to the baby’s head. "Welcome to the world," he murmured. "We’ve been waiting for you."

The baby’s cries softened, and the room fell into a peaceful quiet as if time had paused, leaving just the three of them cocooned in the moment. She couldn’t stop the tears—this time, they were tears of love, of pure joy. This was a happiness she had never known, a completeness she hadn’t imagined was possible.

“Do you want to hold her?” she asked, her voice trembling with emotion.

Tim hesitated but then nodded, his hands gentle as the nurse helped him take the baby into his arms. He cradled the tiny bundle as though it were the most precious thing in the world, and in that moment, his love was unmistakable.

"Hi there... I’m Tim," he whispered, his voice catching in his throat. He paused, then added, “I’m not your dad, but I promise I’ll love you like one.”

Her heart swelled at his words. Reaching out, she rested her hand on his arm, gazing at the baby in his arms. “Tim... you are the father she deserves. You’ve cared for her from the start. You’ve been there every step of the way... and I love you for that.”

As the baby stirred, Tim smiled through his tears, and for the first time, she felt truly whole. This was their family—imperfect, unexpected, but overflowing with love. And as Tim bent down to kiss her lips, sealing the moment, she knew that they had found their way home.

[drchucktingle]

POUNDED BY DR. GLOBUS

wanted to post today about recent health journey of chuck. ALL STARTED at texas show when i began to feel tightness in throat. i have learned this is called GLOBUS which is a tingler character name if ive ever heard one. got through appearance and had blast but felt terrible

plane journey home was even worse. first thought i strained my voice, then tested for covid (negative) and then figured it was just some kind of virus. had running nose and hoarse and extreme pain behind face and MOST of all this golf ball throat

figured i would get better as viruses tend to go but I DID NOT. after a few weeks went to way of urgent care and they took one look and said you have EXTREME FORM OF ACID REFLUX called laryngopharyngeal reflux (also great tingler character name)

basically this is when your stomach acid comes all the way back up into your throat and erodes it. they immediately put me on medications name of pepcid plus tums plus gaviscon and on and on. was inhaling a dang pharmacy every morning

problem is, NO CHANGE. in fact it started getting worse. in addition to previous symptoms i now couldnt keep any food down. upset stomach all the time. could barely sleep. plus it is scary to have a sickness that gets WORSE over time like this

more doctor talks. i up doses of medication to combat sickness but does not seem to work. one night wake up and think 'dang i need to go to er my stomach is going to just melt or something' (keep in mind because i cant keep food down i am always hungry too).

i go to hospital and they say 'WHOA we need to intervene right now we are doing some tests and putting you on SERIOUS LIFE CHANGING MEDICINE. but here is catch to do the tests we need you to stop all your medication for 48 hours and it will be HECK but you gotta do it bud'

so i stop all medication in preparation for new SICK LIFE and suddenly… i start feeling better. not just a little but after weeks of this awful way i wake up in ONE DAY and feel fully cured. now heres twist: at the same time this was happening I started taking allergy medicine

you may already know where i am going with so i will just hit you with it. my INITIAL SICKNESS was just extreme seasonal allergies that required nothing more than claritin and flonase. however i was misdiagnosed with ACID REFLUX and medication was making my stomach a wasteland

the second i stopped taking acid reflux meds and started on allergy trot i was better almost instantly. today i feel HECKIN GREAT. (SIDE NOTE: after 4 years of chronic pain i am so thankful to not have some OTHER long term health trot to deal with. DANG)

so what is lesson here? first of all please do not think this is in ANY WAY anti-doctor rant or anti-medicine. my doctors were trying their best and made a mistake, they are just people. ALSO while acid reflux medicine made me sick, allergy meds made me better. i am SO fortunate

but what is REALLY fortunate is that chuck is covered under SWEET BARBARAS HEALTH CARE (she gets very good coverage under the frozen lake). most artist buckaroos, even WILDLY successful ones, do not have health care which is huge issue that should be talked on more.

point is EVERYONE should have healthcare. this whole adventure was bad, but it also only cost me 50 dollars. hundreds of thousands of other buckaroos would have to deal with this PLUS it would completely upend their life to cover medical expenses because of a SIMPLE MISTAKE

so that is my story, usually there is more of a lesson to these rants but this one is really just ‘dang what a trip.’ so grateful for my health and my way and the fact i can get simple allergy medicine over the counter. most of all THANKFUL FOR MY BODY it is such a treat to exist

thank you for reading and remember to advocate for yourself and your feelings both BODY and MIND at the doctor. listen to your trot and do not forget that LOVING YOURSELF AND THE SYSTEMS OF YOUR BODY proves love just as much as loving others. trot on buckaroos

[vettelsvee]

GOODBYES ARE BITTERSWEET | Sebastian Vettel ✩₊˚.⋆ PART 5: I'LL NEVER LEAVE... NEVER MIND [PREVIOUS PART] [NEXT PART]

goodbyes are bittersweet masterlist | wattpad f1 masterlist | ao3 | ask anything or let's talk!

ferrari sebastian vettel x ex gf!female reader

word count: 4437

summary: after not seeing each other in almost five years, seb and y/n finally meet with just one purpose for her: telling seb they have a 4 year old daughter. will y/n be able to tell him?

warnings: mentions of sex. i think nothing else but i literally cried while writing this. i recommend that you listen to loml by taylor swift while reading this hehe

taglist: [ @saltycomicsanimalssalad @hc-dutch @mycenterfold @simplyamberj @spitesfvl-blog @jaydaaasworld @lottalove4evelyn @zoeyjadetice2010 @jehun @ferralari @cosmoscoffeee @mcmuppet @myescapefromthislife @sleutherclaw @youre-on-your-ownkid ]

a/n: i'm finally back! sorry you had to wait this long to get a new chapter but writers block had me going like crazy, as well as my mental health in general. i had something else planned for today BUT be aware of what I'm posting tomorrow since you might like it! christmas is coming soon and i have a surprise ready for you. let me remind you that feedback and reposts are truly appreciated. and also comment me your thoughts and theories on the story pls! missed you so much guys, thank you for everything, love you all <3

© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

May 15th Heppenheim, Germany

“Y/N, remember that you need to be careful with what you say to Seb. I know you want to tell him about Emily, but also consider whether today is the right time. Imagine if…”

You stop listening to Hanna the moment her lips utter your daughter’s name. Instead, your mind started creating a thousand different scenarios about what could happen when you saw your ex-boyfriend today. Your gaze remained fixed on the mirror in your room.

You only returned home five days ago, but it felt like an eternity.

You knew perfectly well why, or rather, you knew perfectly well who was to blame for your distorted sense of time: Sebastian Vettel, of course.

The trip to London felt like a fresh start. While the main reason to go was your meeting with Capital Records to discuss what your near future might hold, you considered it as an opportunity to rethink what you wanted to do with your life from now on. 

You had just turned 30, and the only thing you longed for was to start this new decade with a clean slate in every possible way. That, of course, included facing your past mistakes and recognizing your faults, one of which you might be about to commit today.

Hanna acted as some sort of mediator between you and Seb because, no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t bring yourself to send him even the simplest of messages. The driver seemed to understand, as he told Hanna not to worry, that he understood, and that all you needed to do was show up without standing him up. 

Despite having agreed to meet at your house, you decided to dress up a little to present yourself in the best way possible. After spending far more time than you’d like to admit choosing what to wear, you settled on a light blue knee-length dress and white Converse sneakers, with a bracelet your daughter made (or better said your mother made, just Emily took credit for).

"Y/N, are you even listening to me?"

The reflection of your best friend in the mirror startled you. You turned towards her, trying to maintain the calm you’ve lacked since returning from London. Exactly five days that have felt like five years.

Like the five years since you last saw Seb.

"Hey, cat got your tongue or what?" insisted the blonde. "Seriously, Y/N, I want you to be speechless, but preferably when you and Seb take the conversation from the couch to the bed and he makes you scream his name again just like he used to do when..."

"Hanna, for God's sake, shut up! Seb and I are only going to talk about..."

"I know, I know, I was just trying to make you laugh. You know I like to..." 

Suddenly, the doorbell rang.

If you were restless before, pacing back and forth in your room, checking that there was no trace of Emily in the house for Seb to find, now you were frozen like a statue.

You looked at Hanna, and she looked back at you. You shrugged, but Hanna just put her exaggeratedly unfriendly faces.

"Hanna, no..."

"It's Seb, Y/N! It's just Seb, for heaven's sake," she interrupted, and you cut her off just as fast.

"It's the Seb I haven't seen in five years!" you stammered, feeling the anxiety taking over. "Seriously, Hanna, this was a very, very bad idea. I don’t even know why I asked you to tell him to come and..."

"Because he's the father of your daughter, and your only goal is to tell him!" she yelled, trying not to raise her voice too much but failing miserably. You hoped to God Vettel didn’t hear that.

"Hanna..."

"Since I know you're not going to open the door, I'll do it myself. Stay here or come down, do whatever you want, but I'll tell Seb to come find you because clearly, you can't handle welcoming your guest," she declared.

Without saying anything else, she strided out of your room. You could only follow her, practically tripping down the stairs, legs trembling like a teenager on her first date. Your pulse was pounding in your temples, while your mind kept screaming at your body to calm down.

As soon as you stepped onto the ground floor, you saw Hanna opening the door. Her cheerful voice broke the silence, asking Seb how he was and, to your surprise, inviting him in.

You inched closer, not quite enough for them to notice you. Then you stopped, inspecting Seb from head to toe, as if you didn't already know every inch of his body by heart. Even though you were used to seeing him on TV and social media daily, it felt like you haven’t seen him in all this time you’ve been out of touch. He was wearing a slightly worn-out white t-shirt and jeans. His hair was perfectly trimmed, though a bit longer on top, and his beard, probably several days old, was what caught your attention the most, looking just the way you liked it.

But what really captivated you was the bouquet of yellow tulips he was holding, just like he used to bring you for dates or whenever it was a special day for either of you back when you were dating.

You swallowed hard, guilt washing over you as you thought, for a fleeting moment, about him handing you a flower bouquet before you told him you were having his baby.

"Hi..."

You thought your whisper was too soft to be heard, but it was quite the opposite.

Both Seb and Hanna turned to look at each other, then focused on you, still standing in the entryway. Your best friend tensed up slightly, but you tried to reassure her with a slight movement of your hands. The expression on your ex-boyfriend’s face seemed to light up at your small intervention, even if it was minimal.

“Well, Seb, I'll leave you with Y/N. I have a few errands to run…” Your friend tried to excuse herself, though both of you knew it wasn’t true. “See you later for a drink guys!

She winked and quickly slipped out, shutting the door behind her before either of you could even say goodbye.

Now, it was just the two of you, alone.

Seb looked at you again, and you couldn’t help it but get lost in the blue of his eyes. The situation felt strange. You used to cherish every moment of being alone together, but now you didn’t even know how to say a simple "hello." 

You once trusted him completely, and now you were unsure whether to offer him a drink or tell him that you have a four-year-old daughter.

“Hi, sunshine,” he said, breaking the silence.

“Hi, Seb.”

He took a step towards you, slowly moving closer. You noticed how his gaze shifted from the flowers to your eyes, as if he was searching for some kind of answer from you. His eyes reflected a mixture of nervousness and tenderness, stirring a whirlwind of emotions inside you. 

He didn’t have to say it, you could see it in his eyes. He was afraid of how you’d react to this gesture, this little detail that used to drive you crazy, but now… you didn’t know how to feel about it.

You, on the other hand, were utterly stunned. 

How, after all this time and how cold you ended things, could he still do this? How could he still remember?

“These... are for you,” he finally said, his voice low and shaky. He handed you the bouquet, his hands trembling.

You met his gaze, and the way he looked at you was filled with fear, insecurity, and maybe, just maybe, a bit of tenderness. He didn’t need to say it out loud because you knew him too well. He was afraid of how you’d react to this gesture.

“Thank you,” you managed to say, taking your time to smell the flowers.

You couldn’t hold it in. Tears began to blur your vision, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you.

He noticed. Even though you didn’t want to, even though you didn’t feel capable of getting close enough to give him a kiss on the cheek or maybe even a hug, Seb did it anyway.

“It's okay, Y/N,” he whispered. “It’s okay...”

But it wasn’t okay… it was far from okay.

Sebastian Vettel was here, once again, standing in front of you, and possibly back in your life. The boy you once considered your best friend, the best friend you fell in love with, the driver you always supported, and most importantly, the father of your child, was back in your life in such an unexpected way that it still felt surreal.

“I don’t know...” you tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. “It feels surreal that after everything, after such an empty goodbye, here we are, together again,” you confessed. “It’s weird seeing you in front of me in the flesh and not as pixels on a screen.”

“Y/N…”

“I’ve missed you, Seb. So much.”

You knew your honesty didn’t catch him by surprise, because he felt the same way. That’s what hurt the most.

“I missed you too, Y/N. I really did...” he said after a moment, wrapping his arms around you, and you pressed your face against his chest.

“Seb…”

“Don’t overthink it, really,” he interrupted gently. “I’m not here to talk about the past or blame anyone,” he paused, letting out a breath before continuing. “I just want us to go back to who we were before we were together. But, if I’m being honest, we’ve been in love with each other for so long that I can’t remember a time when you weren’t my everything.”

Your lips trembled. The weight of his words was too much for you to handle, at least today, in a first encounter where you haven’t even spent ten minutes together.

You felt awful. You felt shattered inside knowing that if you were in this situation, it was because of you.

“Well, Y/N, tell me…”

“No, no,” you quickly interrupted, grabbing his arm and guiding him to sit on the couch. Immediately after, you rushed to the kitchen to grab the drinks and snacks you spent all morning preparing. “You tell me first. Even though I’ve seen you on TV, I know you’re very private about your life, you know... You never share anything with the media, and well, you don’t even have social media so… How are you?”

He let out a short laugh as he picked up a bottle of water and a cheese-and-salmon toast.

“Well, to be honest, I’m doing much better than when you left me,” he revealed. It didn’t surprise you. After all, it was what you expected him to say. “You must have had your reasons for breaking up with me, and after all these years, I’m not going to ask why you did it. But I won’t lie to you… you left me shattered, Y/N.”

“Seb, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

“I know,” he cut in softly, making a gentle gesture with his hand to calm you down. “Like I said, I’m not looking for an explanation or an apology. I just want you to know how I felt. Mentally… damn, Y/N, you broke me, and I completely lost myself, but at the same time, that’s what gave me the strength to win the championship in 2013,” he looked away from your eyes, shifting his gaze to the wall. Nervously, he started playing with his fingers. “All I could think about was you and that, maybe, there was a chance you were watching...”

“Of course I was, Seb,” you said softly, trying to hold back the tears and keep your composure. “No matter what happened, I never stopped watching or supporting you. I’ve always been, and will always be, your number one fan.”

He nodded, a bittersweet expression crossing his face.

“That year, everything I did was with the thought in mind that you were watching and, somehow, it helped me move forward. But… 2014 was when everything fell apart,” he admitted. “Red Bull wasn’t the same anymore, or at least, I didn’t feel the same way. I wasn’t winning, Daniel was beating me… I felt like I had lost everything, including you and, with time, I started to feel like I had no reason to stay with the team or maybe even in Formula 1. Until Ferrari offered me the contract.”

You remembered it like it was yesterday. Unlike any regular sports fan, you found out through Heike when you were out for a walk with Emily.

“When I was given the chance to sign with Ferrari in 2015... Y/N, really, that’s when I realized it wasn’t the end. That’s what I needed to move forward. I think I mentioned it to you on WhatsApp, but I don’t know if you remember…”

You swallowed hard. Of course, you remembered. He told you just before the news became public, before his mum told you, but you didn’t know how to answer him or if you really should do it. The demons in your head made you think it was a joke, even just an excuse to get closer to you. And you also felt that if he did sign with Ferrari, it would open a door you had closed because you weren’t ready to face the truth.

Just like you were doing now.

“I remember, yes,” you murmured, unable to look him in the eyes.

“When I didn’t get a reply from you I decided not to push it. That’s when I realized you didn’t want anything to do with me. Yet I kept sending you stuff as you might know…”

“That’s not it…” You could barely speak. You were as broken as he was. “I read the message, Seb, but… I burst into tears and didn’t have the strength to reply. I didn’t want to give you false hope when I wasn’t ready to… I didn’t want to hurt you more than I already had,” you confessed. “I knew that if I spoke to you again, I’d hurt you again. And I’d hurt myself too. I couldn’t do that to you, Seb.”

He nodded, looking for some kind of affirmation in your gaze.

“At first, I felt really out of place on the team, you know? And I felt that way for a long time,” he revealed. “It was completely out of my comfort zone, and I felt like I’d never fit in. But little by little, Kimi, Maurizio, and the team made me feel like family. It’s strange to think about it now, but I can’t imagine being with any team other than Ferrari.” You agreed with him, from what you had seen on TV, it was clear he felt that way. “Fighting for the world title with them this year and having a real shot at beating Mercedes… I never thought I’d get to this point.”

You looked at him with a mix of admiration and nostalgia. This was the Seb you knew, the Seb with ambition, who always desired more and more. The Seb who never gave up.

The Seb who didn’t break down, even when he had every reason to.

“I’m so proud of you, Seb. I’ve always been, and I always will be. Don’t forget that.”

“Of course, Y/N,” he looked uncomfortable. Quite a bit, actually. “Well… enough about me. You know I don’t like talking about myself… What about you? What have you been up to all this time? My mom told me a bit, and I’ve seen you a few times, but…”

More than not knowing what to say, you sensed he didn’t want to intrude too much into your life.

You swallowed, trying not to get more nervous than you already were, because now, you supposed, was the moment to tell him about Emily.

“Well, not much has changed, really,” you started, unsure of what to say. “I’ve been in Heppenheim the whole time, except for a couple of trips to Berlin, but nothing unusual,” you tried to smile, but your mind kept circling around the fact that you had to tell him you had a daughter. “I’ve been working at the bar and writing music. To be honest, since we broke up I’ve had a lot more inspiration.”

And since I gave birth to Emily, you thought.

Seb didn’t say anything. You figured he understood. After all, he had thrown himself into his career to cope, while you had poured your emotions into writing songs about the story you shared to cope with grief.

“Now things have changed a bit,” you continued, trying to sound more upbeat to push away the painful memories. “Ever since Red went viral… I swear, I uploaded it without expecting anything, but the reaction…”

“The song is amazing, Y/N. Of course it went viral.”

“I’ve been offered a record deal,” you blurted out. “A few years ago, I met Niall Horan at the bar. You know, the guy who was on that band, One Direction…” Seb nodded, his eyes wide, encouraging you to continue. “He told me he was traveling to find some inspiration for his solo career, and I guess Heppenheim seemed like a good place for him to visit.”

“Wait, wait… a record deal?”

“Apparently, Niall told his label that I was the voice behind Red, and, well… Capital Records offered me a contract,” you explained. “They called me to have a meeting in London, which is why we couldn’t meet up last time…”

His face was calm, unreadable, though his mouth had curved into a big smile. He didn’t seem surprised, and you knew there was a strong chance Hanna had told him everything.

If that was true…

“I hope you accepted, Y/N.”

“Well… actually, I didn’t. I turned it down.”

His smile faded for a moment, and his expression became completely serious.

“You turned it down? Why? Sunshine, this is an opportunity…”

“Yes, I know it’s an amazing opportunity, but I can’t accept it. Not right now.”

You figured this was the moment you should tell him the real reason behind rejecting such a big deal, which included a tour if you sold a certain amount of CDs.

Sebastian kept staring at you, which only made you more nervous. You tried to gather your thoughts, searching for the right way to tell him you had a four-year-old daughter, but you couldn’t find the moment.

You couldn’t just drop it on him now, after all, this was your first real conversation in almost five years.

“Y/N, darling…”

“I can’t take the risk when the only thing I’ve managed is to get one song out of all the ones I sent to the label to go viral,” you half-lied. It was true that you didn’t want to talk about it yet, but you were also insecure about your music. “As much as I’d love to have an album, to fill stadiums and have people singing along to my songs, I can’t take that risk.”

“But, Y/N…”

“I’m not sure all the songs on the album would be successful, Seb.”

“Y/N, you have no idea what you’re going to regret if you let this go....”

“No, Seb, I know exactly what I’m doing, really,” you shook your head, firm in your decision. “This is the best thing for me.” 

And for Emily too, though you didn’t say that out loud.

Seb remained silent for longer than you would have liked, as if trying to process what you’d just told him. Then, he stood up, crouching down to your level, and taking your hands in his, he said:

“Alright. If you think your songs aren’t good enough, sing one of them to me.”

“What?” you asked, confused.

“If you turned down the record deal because you think your songs aren’t good enough for the world to hear, sing one of them to me.”

His tone, though calm, was direct and insistent.

“Seb… I can’t. I’m too embarrassed,” you laughed nervously.

“Come on, Y/N,” he said, gently rubbing your hands with his thumbs, just like he always did when your anxiety was at its worst. “It’s just me. I’m still the same after all these years.”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to let it go until you gave in. It was Seb, and he always got what he wanted from you, even when you didn’t want to. In the end, you gave in, carefully standing up from the couch and heading towards the piano at the back of the room, gesturing for him to follow you.

You carefully slided the bench back, lifting the lid as you sat down. You positioned your hands, starting to play the first few chords to warm up, ensuring your memory flawlessly recalled the piece.

“This is song number 5, like your driver number... It's called loml.”

You continued playing, finally giving way to the song.

Who's gonna stop us from waltzing   Back into rekindled flames?   If we know the steps anyway   We embroidered the memories   Of the time I was away   Stitching, ‘We were just kids, babe.’   I said, ‘I don't mind, it takes time.’   I thought I was better safe than starry-eyed   I felt aglow like this   Never before and never since.

Your voice shook as you began to sing, but you kept going, holding on to what your ex-boyfriend had told you about how he knew it was about him. As you settled into the song, you started feeling more comfortable, just like you did when you used to sing for Seb. Though you couldn’t look at him because you were absorbed in the key, your fingers delicately moving over it, you could feel his eyes on you.

You shit-talked me under the table   Talking rings and talking cradles   I wish I could un-recall   How we almost had it all   Dancing phantoms on the terrace   Are they second-hand embarrassed   That I can't get out of bed?   Cause something counterfeit's dead.

Tears started falling from your eyes as you approached the final part of the song. Memories of your shared history flashed through your mind like a movie. Your vision was completely blurred, and you felt a tightness in your chest that was overwhelming, making it hard to breathe, almost impossible to keep singing. Somehow, though, you fought to hold it together, just as you did the day you said goodbye to the man now sitting beside you.

Oh, what a valiant roar   What a bland goodbye   The coward claimed he was a lion   I'm combing through the braids of lies   ‘I’ll never leave’... ‘Never mind.’   Our field of dreams, engulfed in fire   Your arson matches your somber eyes   And I'll still see it until I die   You're the loss of my life.

Silence filled the room as you played the final notes. With your hands still resting on the keyboard, you looked at Seb. Once again, you didn’t know what to say to him, and you knew he didn't either. He was motionless, running a hand through his hair, probably trying to process what he just heard.

Y/Ni, this song... it’s about us, isn’t it?”

“It might be,” you admited, unable to lie to him, at least not about this.

He sighed. You could tell he was affected; you knew it the moment his tears began to form, just as yours continued to flow.

“You should rethink the contract,” he said firmly. “This song deserves to be heard by more than just me, your parents, and Hanna.”

“I can’t, Seb. I just can’t…”

“Can I sit next to you?”

You looked up and saw him gesturing to the bench. Confused, not sure what to do or say, you shifted a little, making space, and he sat beside you. Seb didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around you, offering a comfort that felt wonderful but also caused you to crumble a bit more inside. 

You surprised yourself by resting your head on his shoulder.

“Why are you so determined to convince yourself you don’t deserve this opportunity?” His tone was soft, just like the way he stroked your hair. “Do you really think you're not good enough to be a successful singer?”

“It’s not about being good enough, it’s that I’m not,” you whisper,ed your throat tightening. “I’m not a good person, Seb, and it’s only a matter of time before I screw up again and hurt someone, just like I hurt you.”

“Does this… have something to do with the second date in your YouTube channel username?”

You stood your head up, staring at him in confusion while trying not to panic.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your username,” he repeated, moving closer. “I figured out that the numbers represent two dates. I know for sure that one of them is June 15, 2006, the day we started dating, but the other one… I don’t know what January 12, 2014 means for you because we weren’t talking by then, but it must be important. And based on what you just said…”

Your eyes widened in shock. You were paralyzed, not knowing how to react. 

How could he have noticed something so… insignificant? How had he connected the dots and figured out the dates you had in mind when you created that account?

You thought this would be the perfect moment to tell him that the second date marks the birth of your daughter, the daughter you had together; that on that day, while you were in labor, he was at the hospital waiting for some exams results and he was talking to your dad, who couldn’t contain his excitement about his granddaughter’s arrival and had to keep it a secret from him.

But you couldn’t. Not yet. You need to regain his trust first. You and Seb needed to rebuild the kind of relationship you had before you became the love of each other’s lives.

“Seb…” you trailed off, unable to continue. “I swear, on everything that matters to you, I’ll tell you, but right now… I just can’t.”

He looked at you for a few seconds that felt like an eternity. You knew him better than you knew yourself, and you knew he was persistent, that he needed an answer, but you also knew he was respectful and wouldn't push you.

“That’s okay,” he said finally, a bit resigned. “I understand, it’s fine. I’m not asking you to tell me now if you’re not ready, but I want you to know that when you are, I’ll be here to listen.”

You looked at him, grateful, and nodded without saying anything else. 

You both sat at the piano bench for a while, in silence, listening only to the sound of your breathing and the melody of the song replaying in your mind, as intrusive thoughts overwhelmed you.

“If I waited almost 19 years of my life to be your boyfriend, I can wait a little longer, it doesn’t matter the time you need, for you to tell me,” Seb finally spoke, and his words broke you a little more than you already were. “Let’s be friends again, what do you think?” he offered, giving you a small smile. “Let’s take things slowly, like maybe we should have done when we first started dating. You know…”

“Slowly, no problem,” you repeated, smiling back at him.

You felt a weight lift from your shoulders at his words. Maybe you were not at the peak of your relationship, and maybe you’d never got back there, but at least you were working together to turn your story into something new.

“You know what, Y/N? I’ve always felt like our story wasn’t over. I don’t just mean that romantically, but in a broader sense,” he said quickly. “We have a whole lot of history, and now is when we’re going to start writing our second book.”

“I know, Seb. I’ve been thinking the same thing ever since I said goodbye to you,” you confess. “That day, goodbyes were bittersweet, but I knew it wasn’t the end and that I’d see you again.”

Before the year ends. I’m telling Seb Emily is her daughter before December 31st.

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Fire on Fire Part. 3

Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Description: Aegon made a promise to his niece 6 years ago that he would marry her. Separated by distance and the passage of time, Aegon still intends to keep his promise to the only girl he ever loved. When Rhaenyra returns with her children to King's Landing, Aegon hopes to get Y/N to fall in love with him all over again but quickly learns her heart may not be so easily won. So ensues an elaborate game of cat and mouse which Aegon is determined to win.

Previous part Dividers by @zaldritzosrose

Writer's note: Hiiiii! I'd recommend reading the previous 2 parts for context of when they were teenagers but you could probably read this as a standalone. There will be future parts. I've played around with time, so Rhaenyra and her kids spend around a week at KL before the events of Lord of the Tides.

Warnings: female reader with Targaryen features, targcest (uncle and niece), sexual innuendo, Aegon being fairly toxic and possessive at points. Childhood friends to lovers to enemies to lovers vibes. Aged up characters. Will be canon divergent. Aegon isn't a rapist in this because if Ryan Condal can write fanfiction, so can I.

The sky looked just as it had when he'd watched Y/N disappear into it on her dragon 6 years ago. Standing at the entrance to the Red Keep, in the same spot he had that very day, Aegon could almost pretend that no time had passed at all until he saw her step out of the carriage behind her mother, his sister. And it felt as if the breath had been knocked out of him. She was still Y/N, with the same silver hair that shone like a thousand glittering stars and the singular beauty he could only describe as cutting. But she was more mature now, her features more defined, a woman rather than the girl he had known and loved. He was much changed, too, and he wondered for a moment if Y/N would even recognise him now. But she was not even looking at him. Her lilac eyes were trained upon his brother Aemond, fixing upon the eye patch that concealed his scar. Don't look at him, Aegon thought. Look at me. And that same possessiveness he'd long held towards Y/N, for as long as he could remember, simmered to the surface.

As if he'd called her name, her eyes met his, widening slightly in recognition. The world around them seemed to fade away as they stood gazing at one another, and Aegon felt an uncontrollable need to be close to her suddenly. He wanted to touch her face, trace its contours, and measure the passage of time in their subtle changes. He wanted to pull her to him and wrap his arms around her, to press her body against his and see if it still felt like something inevitable and completely right. He wanted to kiss her and see if those lips that could speak such cold words could still feel like fire against his. But most of all, he wanted to talk to her, to hear her speak his name again, to hear her say anything. Y/N had been the first and last person to truly understand him. They had always been one in the same, and he wanted so badly to feel that familiarity once again. A sharp pain in his ribs jolted him out of his stupor as Aemond not so subtly jabbed him in his side.

"Aegon, won't you greet our guests?" His mother's voice sounded terse and strained. She must have tried to get his attention several times before he'd heard her.

Hands clasped behind his back he inclined his head towards Rhaenyra first.

"It's good to see you again, sister, nephews."

And it was. A part of him had always wanted to be close to his elder sister, though the tense relations between his mother and Rhaenyra had rendered this but a wistful dream. And he'd had a close friendship with Jacaerys in childhood. Though, any residual affection he had could not extend to Lucerys. He'd cost his own brother his eye, and Aegon had long blamed the boy for his separation from Y/N. He turned to his niece again, once more finding himself lost in the depth of her eyes.

"Niece." It was almost embarrassing how tender the appellation sounded in his mouth, and Aegon knew this had not been lost on those around him for he could see Aemond wince out of the corner of his eye.

"Uncle." By contrast, Y/N's voice was cold and devoid of any emotion, her gaze steely. Aegon's heart plummeted. He'd expected her anger might have waned in the 6 years they'd been apart, that she might have missed him as he had her, though perhaps not as acutely. He'd been quite certain that he'd loved her a great deal more than she loved him. But he still remembered the promise he had made to her on that fateful day at Driftmark when he'd taken her first kiss. He had said that he would marry her one day. Aegon intended to keep this promise and vye for her heart all over again. He had wanted one girl and one girl only his whole life and if she were still a little angry with him he was prepared to weather the storm, to take her ire in his stride and forge a path back into her heart. With renewed determination, he quirked his lips up at Y/N in a smile that was full of intention. He couldn't feel too sorry to have her frown back at him. She'd always been particularly beautiful to him when angry, blazing with an intensity only the stars could manage.

At supper, he noted that Y/N took up her old spot opposite him as if by habit. Though she said but little, and nothing at all to him, he had observed a slight pinkening of her cheeks as he'd continued to try and catch her eye all evening, prompting a satisfied smirk from him which she seemed to bristle at, steadfastly avoiding his gaze from then on. It seemed his niece was determined to play hard to get. Aegon was all too willing to accept the challenge, thoughts whirring in his mind of how best to get Y/N alone so she would have to speak to him.

Aegon was up earlier than he thought he'd ever been in his life, dressing quickly before the sun had even risen. He paced the floors of his chambers in nervous anticipation until he saw the first pinpricks of sunlight break through the blanket of the early morning sky. Then, he briskly walked to his niece's old chambers, where she'd happily been installed once again, much to his pleasure since it was but a short distance from his own.

He leant against the wall beside her door, preparing to wait for her until she emerged to break her fast. She couldn't very well deny him her company if he just happened to be in the vicinity of her chambers and offered her his arm to walk her to the morning room. He jumped slightly as her door opened with a soft click, having become lost in his thoughts as he waited. Lost in thoughts of her in truth, of what dress she might wear, of how her maids might have arranged her hair, and how she might react to his being right outside her chambers. The reality was far from what he had pictured, her eyebrows pulling together and her expression taking on a blackness he misliked. He'd always been good at reading her emotions, for she always wore them on her sleeve around him. This emptiness was unnerving to him.

"Good morrow, uncle."

Aegon tried not to be ruffled by her indifferent tone, only investing his own with more energy.

"Good morrow, Y/N. I thought we might head to the morning room together. My mother and sister would be pleased to break their fast with you there." He didn't rightly know whether they would. He didn't care, but it wasn't a bad ruse.

Holding his arm out to her in invitation and drawing up the most charming smile he could muster, Aegon silently pleaded with her to take his arm.

"Please offer them my apologies. I don't much like to eat early in the morning. Besides, my mother has requested my presence in her chambers."

Aegon's face fell, his arm dropping back to his side limply as he watched Y/N speed down the hallway away from him. She was lying, that much he knew. She simply didn't want to be in his presence, and that knowledge sent a jolt of pain through him. For the first time, Aegon considered that he might not be able to win Y/N back. Perhaps he'd been foolish to think they could start right where they'd left off, despite their estrangement of 6 years. He realised that in trying to protect his mother and brother at Driftmark, and in so doing inadvertently call Y/N a bastard, he might just have lost her for good. It didn't help that she'd returned in the first place to reaffirm Lucery's right to Driftmark once the Sea Snake passed. But he couldn't believe that. He couldn't give up on her, not without a fight. They'd played many games as children. Now, they would simply play another. If Y/N wanted a game of cat and mouse, then he would be obliging.

"Just the princess I was looking for."

Aegon smirked as Y/N nearly dropped the book she was holding. The clever minx probably thought it unlikely he should find her in here. But she must have forgotten all of the times he'd sought her out in the library in their youth, when he'd first realised he was in love with her and would have done anything to be at her side. His mind wandered to the feeling of her hand running through his hair as she'd read.

"What for?" It took Aegon a moment to understand what she was asking, though he quickly shook himself out of his reverie. He was hardly going to win Y/N over if he continued to just stare at her stupidly.

"I was hoping to get your recommendations on some reading material." At her look of incredulity, he slowly moved towards her. As he got closer, he noticed her taking minute steps backwards, her back hitting the bookshelf behind her as he came to a stop right in front of her.

"You? You want to read a book."

Aegon smirked at her.

"Don't look so surprised. I read to you once, didn't I?"

As if by fate he spotted the familiar spine of the book he'd once read aloud to her when she was overcome by a wave of seasickness and barely able to keep her eyes open. His voice had lulled her into a peaceful sleep.

Placing one hand on the bookshelf on one side of her as if to steady himself, he reached across her body with his other arm to grab the book, effectively encasing her in his arms. At her sharp intake of breath he smiled to himself, presenting the book to her innocently.

Y/N sounded a little breathless as she spoke.

"You remember?"

Aegon stepped closer, shifting his hand so that his fingers just grazed her bodice. He spoke so lowly she couldn't have heard him had he not lowered his head until theirs were nearly touching.

"I remember everything."

Y/N only stared at him with wide eyes at first, but he caught her gaze flicker briefly to his lips. Experimentally, he trailed his fingers down her side. A feather light touch, he didn't want to push his luck. And then she was stepping away from him, turning to the opposite book case and grabbing a thick and dusty book, which she promptly shoved against his chest.

"I think you'll like this one better."

And with that, she was scurrying away from him once again, her footsteps echoing against the stone floor of the library as she fled.

Looking down at the red tome in his hands, Aegon laughed. No one had been able to exact such a genuine sound from him in years.

Of course, she'd hand him the Book of Holy Prayer. Gods only knew what tales she'd heard of him to think he'd have need of such a thing. He placed it back in its rightful place on the shelf, he reclaimed the romantic novel he'd dropped as Y/N had forcibly shoved his arm away from her. As he left the library, the book under his arm, he winked at the maester, who'd just entered holding a bundle of scrolls. It had likely given the poor old fellow quite a fright to see Aegon of all people coming from the library, more still with a book tucked under his arm.

Perusing the novel that afternoon gave Aegon an idea of how he could convince Y/N to spend some time with him. He thought in time she might come to appreciate the deviousness of it. As they sat opposite each other at supper once again he addressed her directly.

"Y/N, I wondered if you might play a game of Cyvasse with me on the morrow. We used to enjoy playing together as children and I can have a board set up."

He caught Y/N exchanging a glance with Rhaenyra before turning back to him.

"I apologise, uncle. But I don't remember the rules."

Aegon's smile only grew at her refusal. He'd anticipated as much.

"I'd be more than happy to catch you up to speed."

Another curious look at her mother prompted Aegon to think she might actually be asking for her permission. It was evidently denied.

"Alas, I don't think I'll have any free time for games tomorrow. But thank you for the kind offer, uncle."

Time to put his plan into action, Aegon thought.

Lowering his voice and leaning across the table so no one else could hear him, he played his card.

"Y/N I'm starting to think you don't want to spend time with me. In which case I might be forced to recite some passages from one of your romance novels as this evening's entertainment."

His threat seemed to have had the desired effect as she gawped at him, mouth hanging open like a fish. Though a very comely fish, Aegon thought. The novel didn't have anything too damning in its pages, but it did contain a few rather silly passages he was sure Y/N would rather not be aired publicly.

She whispered through gritted teeth.

"You wouldn't dare."

Aegon smirked.

"Oh, I would." He started to rise from his seat as if to address the rest of the family sat around the dinner table before she promptly stomped on his foot under the table.

He hissed in pain, glaring at her.

"Seven hells Y/N."

The raucous they were making had earned them several looks from his mother, and sister, but they quickly returned to their conversations as he smiled blithely back at them.

"I'll play a game with you if you keep your mouth shut. OK?"

Aegon smiled brightly at Y/N's acceptance of spending time with him.

"Excellent, that wasn't so hard was it? I'll come by your chambers tomorrow to get you."

Y/N glared at him the rest of the night, seemingly trying to scorch him and turn him to cinders beneath her gaze. Aegon was simply pleased to have her full and undivided attention on himself. She wasn't looking at his brother now. She was looking at him.

Aegon thought Y/N remembered the rules of Cyvasse pretty well, considering she was currently sat across from him and thrashing him. What had looked like a small victory for him had quickly turned sour as he glumly looked a the board.

Y/N was comparatively gleeful, with a self-satisfied look gracing her features.

"The rules seem to have come back to you, niece."

Taking another one nof his castles, Y/N leant back and smiled broadly at him.

"I think you're just bad at this game, uncle. Your problem is that you never have a strategy."

Aegon's hand hovered over the board as he considered his next move, but he looked across it into her eyes at her assumption.

"You'd be surprised. I'd say I have a pretty clear idea of what I want and what I have to do to get it."

His mouth upturned as he saw her swallow down a retort.

He gasped suddenly, pointing behind her at nothing at all. As she whipped her head around he quickly reached across the table separating them and made a grab for her trebuchet piece, concealing it within a closed fist. She turned back towards him with an air of suspicion, looking from him to the board and back to him again as he presumed an air of innocence.

"Ah, perhaps I was mistaken. I thought I saw..."

"What piece have you taken, Aegon?"

He grinned at her. That was the first time she'd said his name since she'd arrived.

He presented the piece to her, quickly retracting it when she made a grab for it.

"I'll give it back to you if you give me something I want in return."

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. He knew she was too competitive to abandon a game mid-play. She'd want to see it through and so she'd humour his request.

"What do you want?"

Aegon leant towards her, so close her breath was fanning his face as she followed his movements. He raised his free hand to curl a tendril of her hair around his fingers.

"I want you to take a stroll in the garden with me on the morrow." It seemed like the type of thing lovers would do in Aegon's mind, at least the type of lovers he'd read about in Y/N's books. So he thought she might like it. He wanted to do all of the things that happened in her books with her, if that was the type of love she sought. If she'd only let him.

Y/N let out a shuddering breath as if she'd been holding it waiting to hear what he'd request.

"Is that all?"

With a final stroke of her hair he dropped his hand and leant back in his chair.

"That's all."

"No."

Aegon quirked his eyebrow up, not having expected her refusal to such an innocent request.

"No?"

"I don't trust you. You're playing some game."

Aegon smiled coyly at her, weaving the piece he'd taken from her between his fingers.

"I thought we were both playing a game, my dear niece."

He didn't mean Cyvasse, and he didn't think she thought he did either.

With an agility he hadn't known she'd possessed, Y/N made a quick grab for the piece that was almost successful, though he pulled it back out of her reach.

"Give it to me, Aegon."

Ah, there you are, Aegon thought. That was his fierce girl, half savage and half his.

He reclined nonchalantly back in his seat.

"Come and get it then."

Her irritation with him plain to see on her face, Y/N rose and moved around the table to stand before him with her hand outstretched expectantly.

Aegon placed the trebuchet piece in her hand before quickly enclosing his hand over Y/N's and yanking her towards him. Not expecting his ruse, she fell into his lap with a shriek, and he quickly entrapped her in his arms. He grinned at her devilishly, more than a little pleased with this turn of events.

Y/N pushed against his hold, huffing in frustration as he didn't move an inch.

"Let me up, you swine."

"Only if you promise to go on a stroll with me."

Y/N glared at him wordlessly, though she stopped struggling, seeing it was futile.

Aegon tutted at her. "I'm quite comfortable like this and don't think I'll have any desire to move anytime soon. If you want your freedom, you'll have to give me what I want, I'm afraid. Is spending time with me really such an awful prospect?" He couldn't help the tinge of insecurity that came through in his words. Did she really hate him that much?

But it seemed to be that note which finally struck a chord with Y/N. Sighing with resignation and relaxing against him, Y/N looked at him sternly.

"Fine, but I will hurt you if you try to ravish me behind some bushes. I've heard about your reputation."

Aegon felt a levity in his heart again. He could see the smile Y/N was trying to conceal, hear the jest in her words.

"Oh darling, I wouldn't dream of it." He would. He definitely had. But he wouldn't tell her that. Instead, he finally released her from the cage of his arms and let her stand up, though he immediately bemoaned the loss of her.

Aegon had quickly captured Y/N's arm and wrapped it around his, firmly tucking her arm in the crook of his elbow as soon as he'd seen her enter the garden. He'd been worried for a short while that she wouldn't come at all. But there she was, utterly resplendent in the morning sunlight.

"Come then, Y/N. Tell me what you've been up to in Dragonstone these past 6 years."

Y/N looked up at him quizically.

"What do you want to know?"

Aegon responded immediately.

"Anything. Everything. Just talk to me."

And, finally, she did. Aegon didn't care if it was minutes or hours or days that passed because Y/N was speaking to him, laughing with him again, just as she had when they were children together. Everything was going a little too well, however, for Aegon was too busy staring at Y/N to realise he was walking them into a path of rose bushes. Evidently, she was too busy staring at him to notice either, giving Aegon only a few seconds to grab hold of her and turn her towards him before she fell into it. Regrettably, the rapidity at which he'd turned her had caused her dress to fan out and get caught in the thorns.

"Oh bother." Y/N had sighed exasperatedly, reaching down to untangle herself before Aegon had stopped her and crouched down himself.

"Allow me." This seemed like the sort of thing a romantic interest would do for his beloved in a novel. Aegon remembered Y/N had always like the part where the knight rescued the princess best.

To his surprise, Y/N only started swatting at him frantically.

"Aegon, get up. If anyone were to come across us and see you under my skirts, they'll think.."

"What? Oh, no I don't care if they think that."

"Aegon!"

"I'm just joking. You're being ridiculous. Anyway, I'll be quick."

He paused, unable to resist teasing her a little more when she was blushing so deliciously.

"But, if we were doing what you think your imaginary spectators would think we were doing, then..."

She grabbed a chunk of his hair suddenly, giving it a threatening tug.

"Aegon, I swear if you finish that sentence I'm going to shove your face in that rose bush."

He chuckled, happy enough to have her fingers in his hair. He redirected his focus back to the matter at hand, though her constant shifting made it increasingly difficult to concentrate.

"Stop squirming."

"I can't keep my balance."

Aegon pretended to sigh exasperatedly whilst hiding his smile. He patted his shoulder in invitation.

"Fine then, just sit on my shoulder while I do this." He could see Y/N looked sceptical at first, but she perched tentatively on his shoulder after a few moments, her hand resting on his back to support her.

The soft tread of footsteps had the both of them snapping their heads up to see Aemond turn the bend. He halted in his steps upon seeing them, although he quickly turned back in the opposite direction, his lips turned upwards in a smirk that seemed to say this was exactly the position he'd expect to find them in.

Y/N threw her hands up.

"Perfect."

Aegon reached up from detangling her skirts to pat her thigh reassuringly.

"Not to worry, my sweet. No one would expect you to throw your lot in with me."

She slapped his hand away, eyes narrowed.

"I'm not your sweet."

Aegon simply smirked at her.

"You're right. I do prefer you venomous."

Seeing that he'd left her speechless for once, he turned back to the thorn bush and, with one final tug, successfully untangled Y/N's skirts. He couldn't save the mesh, which was torn in several places.

Rising from his crouch, he didn't expect to see such a forlorn and despairing look on Y/N's face as she stared at her torn dress. He felt a jolt of panic rush through him that he'd actually offended her with his teasing, frightened her even...

"Y/N, look, I'm sorry if I upset you or frightened you. I was only teasing."

She waved away his apology, pointing towards her skirts.

"No, I'm used to you. It's my dress. The mesh is hard to come by and it was my absolute favourite."

Aegon immediately regretted not being even more careful, hating to have upset Y/N by ruining her dress.

"I'm so sorry Y/N. Can't it be mended?"

She shook her head softly, looking up at him with a smile devoid of any malice or sarcasm.

"I don't think so. But it's just a dress after all. Thank you for helping me, Aegon."

He bowed his head respectfully as she passed by him.

"Of course."

Aegon watched after her as she disappeared into the walls of the Keep. The dress clearly did matter to her, and so it mattered to him. In the hopes of remedying his error, the Prince went in search of the Keep's seamstress.

Viserys hadn't been best pleased to learn that whilst he was confined to his sick bed, Queen Alicent had not arranged for a banquet to be held in Rhaenyra's honour. This was an oversight he commanded her to resolve quickly. Thus, it was that in a few days hence the family would host a banquet with all the most important nobles in attendance. The whole affair seemed rather farcical to Aegon since this was hardly a friendly visit, with the succession to Driftmark hanging in the balance. He only hoped that the dress he had requested to be made for Y/N would be ready in time. The Keep's seamstress had assured him she would be able to get hold of the same diaphanous mesh material of the one he'd inadvertently torn. Aegon was anxious to please Y/N, to give her a reason to consider him again as a suitor for her hand. He had little doubt his mother and Rhaenyra would be steadfastly opposed to such a match for that had been the case when they were adolescents. But he wouldn't allow their petty arguments to keep him and Y/N apart any longer...provided Y/N felt the same. She seemed increasingly amenable to his advances, taking his arm when offered and allowing him to lead her to meals, and her manner was much warmer and familiar when they talked now than it had been only a few days ago. But he could tell there was still something amiss, a wall she had built up between them he was determined to break down.

On the morning of the banquet, the seamstress knocked on Aegon's door to show him Y/N's completed dress. He was satisfied with the outcome, the material was just as grand as her previous dress had been. He only hoped she'd think so, too, once she saw it. Perhaps she would even wear it later that evening. Before sending the seamstress off to Y/N's quarters with the dress, he quickly scribbled a note to his niece.

Quelos,

Please accept this dress as a replacement for the one I tore in the rose garden, along with my sincere apology. The material is as close a replica of your favourite gown as I could procure. I hope it will still please you and that you will wear it tonight at the banquet.

Aegon

Aegon had already drunk several cups of wine by the time Y/N entered the banquet hall, though it was her elegance and refined beauty that sent him stumbling back a pace rather than the alcohol. She was wearing the dress, and it fit her perfectly, swirling in burgundy pools of fabric around her with the intricately woven black mesh over the top. Returning his gaze to her face, he jolted slightly to see that she was already looking at him too and smiling softly. He felt himself smile back at her by reflex though as soon as he took a step towards her, his mother was calling for all the guests in attendance to take their seats. He made a beeline for the seat next to Y/N, roughly shoving Jacaerys aside and ignoring his cry of indignation.

Aegon heard Y/N trying to conceal a giggle with a cough, and smirked at her as he sat down. He turned to face her, leaning against his hand. "I take it you like my gift then?" Aegon was aiming for mild interest but he was genuinely curious to know what she thought of it. Smoothing the material out on her skirts, Y/N smiled brightly at him.

"I think it is very beautiful. Thank you. You didn't have to."

Aegon leaned further towards her.

"I wanted to."

The evening passed surprisingly pleasantly. Though Aegon didn't know if that was just because he was so preoccupied with trying to make Y/N laugh. He'd earned a pretty endearing snort from her with his impression of Lord Beesbury, much to her embarrassment. Though he did notice her continually glancing at his cup as he allowed a servant to fill it multiple times throughout the night. He normally needed to be drunk to get through these sorts of things, but Y/N's company made him want to stay sober, so he turned his goblet upside-down on the table, stopping a servant from filling it again. Y/N looked at him in surprise, her eyebrow quirked up. Aegon simply shrugged at her, though his ears perked up at something Rhaenyra had said at the other end of the table to his mother.

"The betrothal is all but arranged. There is just the matter of..."

Aegon's heart was thrumming in his ears, cold dread filling him. She couldn't mean Y/N? But the way Y/N was looking sheepishly down at her plate and refusing to meet his eyes all but confirmed it.

"Are you to be married?" Aegon could barely repress the rage he felt, gritting his words out.

Y/N nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Yes." By the sound of it, she wasn't too pleased about the arrangement either. Aegon grabbed Y/N's hand and pulled her up, ignoring her shocked expression, and he dragged her along with him to the centre of the banquet hall, where a dance was just about to begin.

"Dance with me." It wasn't a request. The time for patience was long passed. Aegon wasn't going to let Y/N slip away from him again to marry some other priggish Lord. He pulled her close to him, speaking lowly with anger lacing his voice.

"When were you going to tell me you were betrothed?"

Y/N looked surprised by his animosity.

"I didn't think it would matter to you. From what I've heard there are many other girls who've taken your interest since I left."

Aegon bristled. She didn't think it would matter to him.

"And we're you jealous? Like I was when you flirted with other lords and knights?"

"No, we no longer have any claims over one another. You can do as you please."

Aegon gripped her waist tighter.

"How can you say that? Is your heart still so hardened to me after what happened at Driftmark that you are blind to how I have pursued you ever since you returned? I apologised for what I said, sent you letters explaining why I had to say it. And you didn't reply to a single one." Aegon's voice was raw, thick with desperation. Y/N stared up at him in confusion.

"You sent me letters? I never received them."

Aegon felt his heart plummet. He had thought her lack of response meant that she hated him. To know she hadn't even read them was just as upsetting.

Aegon loosened his grip, holding her more gently.

"Then you don't know?"

"Know what, Aegon?"

"That I love you. I never stopped."

Y/N took a sharp intake of breath, searching his eyes for the truth in them, he thought. Then her gaze hardened again.

"I apologise if I have given you a false impression, uncle. But I am betrothed. I'm tired now, I think I'll retire for the evening."

Aegon was stunned by her coldness, her harshness after he poured his heart out to her. He was stunned only a short while before he shook himself out of his despondency. No, he didn't believe she no longer felt for him, and he wouldn't allow her to marry another man if there was any possibility of her returning his feelings. He followed her back to her chambers, not bothering to knock before letting himself in. Y/N jumped at the sound of the door opening, looking at him like he had three heads.

"What in the Seven Hells, Aegon! You can't be in here. Someone will see you."

Aegon shut the door behind him.

"I don't care. I need to know if you love him. That fool you said you're set to marry

Y/N shifted uncomfortably.

"I... like him. We like each other."

Aegon took broad steps towards her, stopping only when they were a hair's breadth from one another and placing a hand on her waist possessively.

"Like? Is that all you wish for, to be liked? You deserve to be passionately desired and fiercely loved." He tightened his hold on her for emphasis.

"It doesn't matter what I want. Mother has arranged it."

Aegon frowned.

"Of course it matters."

Y/n placed a hand on his chest to push him lightly away from her.

"What do you want from me Aegon?"

Aegon smiled sadly at her.

"You have to ask?"

Y/N shut her eyes briefly before fixing him with the full force of her gaze, which had long had the ability to bring him to his knees.

"We can't relive the past. Even if I wanted to. It's just too late." All Aegon could hear was that there was a part of her, however small that part might be, that still felt that frenetic energy between them. That wanted him too.

"I think we can. Maybe you'll fall in love with me all over again, if you give me a chance." 

Y/N's eyes lit with something he couldn't place before immediately dulling into that blank mask of indifference he'd come to hate.

"Too much has happened. I think you should leave, Aegon"

Aegon grasped desperately at a reason to get her to just listen to him.

"Quelos, please." Her head snapped up, eyes locking with his. In them, a tenderness he'd not seen in years. He nearly sighed with relief at the sight of it.

"No one else calls me that."

Aegon approached her again, though he did not touch her this time.

"You are very like a star. In it's beauty and light. In is cold indifference and untouchable distance from mere mortals like me." 

"I'm not indifferent to you." Y/N's reply was so instantaneous he scarcely caught it.

"What?"

"I said I'm not indifferent to you." Y/N was looking at him with such an affectionate expression, Aegon felt his heart was fit to burst. This was as close as she'd come to admitting she still held any feelings for him other than resentment at all.

"That's good. Because I find myself quite often overwhelmed with how much I feel for you. I always have an excruciating need to be near you. To talk to you, even when I have nothing to say. I think I have wished for you and nothing but you my whole life." He whispered the last, as if fearing that voicing his confession any louder would shatter this fragile understanding between them.

He hadn't realised how close he'd come towards Y/N, if he leant forward only a little their lips would touch. He also hadn't realised she was clutching his tunic, pulling him towards her even when she was trying so desperately to send him away.

"Are you telling the truth?" And for once Y/N looked insecure. Had she thought his feelings a lie after Driftmark or had she thought they would change?

"Yes, nuha quelos."

Her eyes widened. He'd never called her "his star" before.

Caught up in her beauty and the growing suspicion she might just feel the same for him, he made to kiss her only to have his head snap back violently when she slapped him.

"Seven hells! What are you? Dragon or girl?"

Holding his throbbing cheek, he relented in his anger as he looked up to see Y/N holding a hand over her mouth, her eyes alight with fear. He softened his voice, dropping his hand from his face so she didn't think she'd seriously hurt him.

"It's alright, Y/N. That was my fault. If you don't want me to kiss you, then I won't."

"But I did want you to kiss me."

Aegon blanked, then threw his hands up in confusion.

"Then why did you slap me, you infuriating woman?"

Y/N shuffled towards him sheepishly, tentatively raising a hand to stroke the red mark she'd left on his cheek.

"Since the day that you first kissed me...I have never been close like that with anyone else. I panicked."

Aegon held her hand in place over his cheek.

"Why?"

Y/n turned her gaze to the floor.

"I didn't want it with someone who wasn't you."

Aegon felt his heart stumble at her words. Smiling tenderly at her, he took her chin between his thumb and forefinger to gently turn her gaze back to him.

"Good. I'd kill a man if I knew he'd touched you."

Y/N fixed him with a rueful glare.

"That's hardly fair. I'm supposed to be fine with you whoring yourself about the Red Keep, chasing after every skirt you see?" 

Aegon smirked at her.

"So you do care?" 

When she made to move away from him in annoyance, he quickly gathered her back into his arms, speaking affectionately to her to make up for his past deviances.

"It is you who has my heart. Who has always held it." 

Y/N melted against him, though she still looked a little unsure.

"I don't know what to do." 

Aegon stroked her cheek

"I'll teach you."

He leant down slowly, routinely searching her eyes for any doubt, any hint she didn't want him to kiss her. As she tilted her head up to meet his, he pressed their lips together. After a few moments, she began to respond, and it was just like it had been in their youth. Each brush of her lips against his felt like a fire burning through him and like a wound knitting together all at once. It didn't matter to him that she was inexperienced. He only wished he hadn't bothered kissing any other girl's lips. When she pulled away to catch her breath, he pressed their foreheads together, wanting to maintain this closeness between them.

"What did you write in your letters?"

Aegon chuckled at her sudden curiosity, entangling his fingers in her hair.

"Mostly, I was just begging you to forgive me for what I said at Driftmark, telling you I loved you and that I missed you."

Y/N stroked a hand across the plane of his chest.

"I missed you too."

Nuha quelos~my star

Quelos~star

Tagging:

@callsignwidow @lady-dragon-rider

[agentrouka-blog]

It seems like Dany in book is still having hard time believing that her father was a Mad King who was hated in Westros. When Selmy tried to mention it she stopped him because she didn't like where it was going despite she asked him about it.

That entire scene is so...

(Cut for long quote)

Dany is reading a book of fairytales that she acknowledges are not proper history. (Symbolismmmmm.) But she keeps getting distracted by doubts about herself.

She played at being a queen, yet sometimes she still felt like a scared little girl. Viserys always said what a dolt I was. Was he truly mad? She closed the book. She could still recall Ser Jorah, if she wished. Or send Daario to kill him. Dany fled from the choice, out onto the terrace. She found Rhaegal asleep beside the pool, a green and bronze coil basking in the sun. Drogon was perched up atop the pyramid, in the place where the huge bronze harpy had stood before she had commanded it to be pulled down. He spread his wings and roared when he spied her. There was no sign of Viserion, but when she went to the parapet and scanned the horizon she saw pale wings in the far distance, sweeping above the river. He is hunting. They grow bolder every day. Yet it still made her anxious when they flew too far away. One day one of them may not return, she thought. “Your Grace?” She turned to find Ser Barristan behind her. “What more would you have of me, ser? I spared you, I took you into my service, now give me some peace.” “Forgive me, Your Grace. It was only … now that you know who I am …” The old man hesitated. “A knight of the Kingsguard is in the king’s presence day and night. For that reason, our vows require us to protect his secrets as we would his life. But your father’s secrets by rights belong to you now, along with his throne, and … I thought perhaps you might have questions for me.” Questions? She had a hundred questions, a thousand, ten thousand. Why couldn’t she think of one? “Was my father truly mad?” she blurted out. Why do I ask that? “Viserys said this talk of madness was a ploy of the Usurper’s …” “Viserys was a child, and the queen sheltered him as much as she could. Your father always had a little madness in him, I now believe. Yet he was charming and generous as well, so his lapses were forgiven. His reign began with such promise … but as the years passed, the lapses grew more frequent, until …” Dany stopped him. “Do I want to hear this now?” Ser Barristan considered a moment. “Perhaps not. Not now.” “Not now,” she agreed. “One day. One day you must tell me all. The good and the bad. There is some good to be said of my father, surely?” “There is, Your Grace. Of him, and those who came before him. Your grandfather Jaehaerys and his brother, their father Aegon, your mother … and Rhaegar. Him most of all.” “I wish I could have known him.” Her voice was wistful. “I wish he could have known you,” the old knight said. “When you are ready, I will tell you all.” Dany kissed him on the cheek and sent him on his way. That night her handmaids brought her lamb, with a salad of raisins and carrots soaked in wine, and a hot flaky bread dripping with honey. She could eat none of it. Did Rhaegar ever grow so weary? she wondered. Did Aegon, after his conquest? Later, when the time came for sleep, Dany took Irri into bed with her, for the first time since the ship. But even as she shuddered in release and wound her fingers through her handmaid’s thick black hair, she pretended it was Drogo holding her … only somehow his face kept turning into Daario’s. If I want Daario I need only say so. She lay with Irri’s legs entangled in her own. His eyes looked almost purple today … (ASOS, Daenerys VI)

The whole scene is so utterly rife with Red Flags.

Dany has just commited a(nother) massacre, made herself Supreme Leader Until I Move On and banished Jorah for his past spying. She (correctly) surmises that she is overwhelmed and questions her suitability for the job of ruling. She questions her family's sanity.

She wants to avoid what those questions imply. Out on the terrace, she sees Drogon doing his best Replacement Harpy impression (symbolismmmmm) while another one is off hunting boldly (surely nothing bad can come of that behavior in the near future...) and...

A glimpse of hope! A dude with unique personal information about her family appears and offers to share it! Perhaps that uncomfortable feeling can return into focus and be addressed?

Nah.

AND THEN the guy goes "You know what? You're totally right. This isn't really relevant or urgent. Nothing about your family history is alarming enough to question your path in general. Your brother was AWESOME btw."

Barristan, even if he had told her things, would never have helped her come to uncomfortable conclusions because he is the worst kind of hypocritical sycophant for a) any monarch he happens to be serving at the time, and b) House Targaryen in particular. The conversation they are putting off... would not have been useful anyway.

So a placated Dany returns the focus on herself and her feelings, but validated, and her next move is to turn the "this must never happen again" incident with her "not a sex slave" Irri into "actually, time to honorable serve your khaleesi like a sex toy while she fantasizes about other people". People who remind her of her family and their Valyrian looks.

She is burrowing into her Targaryen identity in ways she hadn't even done before, taking liberties with her power that she had shied away from before. Her yelp review will be underwhelming. "Her kisses tasted of duty". Because that's what it was. Dany doesn't care.

She ends up making a choice the next morning.

“My city,” said Dany. “I was looking for a house with a red door, but by night all the doors are black.”

And it is a reasonable choice on the surface, that finally has her standing fast to accept a sense of responsibility for the outcomes of her actions here.

But already we see how the missing context of Westerosi history is distorting her understanding, and Barristan bolstered this. Because she creates a difference where there isn't one.

“Aegon the Conqueror brought fire and blood to Westeros, but afterward he gave them peace, prosperity, and justice. But all I have brought to Slaver’s Bay is death and ruin. I have been more khal than queen, smashing and plundering, then moving on.” “There is nothing to stay for,” said Brown Ben Plumm. “Your Grace, the slavers brought their doom on themselves,” said Daario Naharis. “You have brought freedom as well,” Missandei pointed out. “Freedom to starve?” asked Dany sharply. “Freedom to die? Am I a dragon, or a harpy?” Am I mad? Do I have the taint? “A dragon,” Ser Barristan said with certainty. “Meereen is not Westeros, Your Grace.” “But how can I rule seven kingdoms if I cannot rule a single city?” He had no answer to that. Dany turned away from them, to gaze out over the city once again. “My children need time to heal and learn. My dragons need time to grow and test their wings. And I need the same. I will not let this city go the way of Astapor. I will not let the harpy of Yunkai chain up those I’ve freed all over again.” She turned back to look at their faces. “I will not march.” “What will you do then, Khaleesi?” asked Rakharo. “Stay,” she said. “Rule. And be a queen.”

Dany sees a difference between dragon and harpy that the earlier image of Drogon in the harpy's place already shows us is a false dichotomy. She imagines prosperity and peace in the aftermath of Aegon's invasion where he created no such thing. She is concerned with her sanity and suitability to rule, so she will stay temporarily to test herself on this city of human beings.

The human children must heal and learn. Her dragons need to grow and fly.

Dany needs the same, she says. The same as her dragons, not the same as her children. There will be little healing and learning. But we will see her fly off on Drogon, ecstatic, while the people of her city burn below.

It was never going to end any other way, because "if I look back I am lost" is her curse. She is not interested in the facts, because they hinder her fantasy of the red door. But she will also never get facts because there is no one who would give them to her.

She prefers a book of fairytales over a proper history and she will begin to forget there's a difference.

[seokizaten]

The Gold He Holds [Zhongli] —⋆｡°✩

Chapter 1 [previous] [next]

Series Introduction: How shameful it is to be a mortal, falling in love with an Archon who had eyes for someone even before you were born?

Shi Y/N, the young lady who lives with her adoptive mother at Liyue Harbor is one of the most respected history enthusiasts in their class during her time at the Akademiya. Reaching the age of twenty, she swore to approach the knowledgeable man of history to uncover her past.

However, even before her said research, she had eyes on the man for the longest time. That mysterious, intelligent, and good looking man from the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor is how most of the people described him. 

Everyone knows him as that man who takes the contracts seriously. However, she knows no one who ever broke the deal so she knows nothing about the consequences at all. Either way, she is not the one to run away from responsibility of such anyways. 

“I am aware that this potential contract of ours wouldn’t exactly give me the answers I needed, but I would be able to receive at least a fragment from the past.” Y/N explains, in front of the man. 

Being asked to speak more of the proposed contract, she was asked to sit by the other side of Zhongli’s table. “If I may ask, what exactly is your motive in this research of yours?”

“I would like to write about my bloodline’s history like I mentioned, for those in my future generations to hear about. Technically just a hobby of mine, sure, but I see no faulty side of this activity.” Y/N shrugs. Zhongli’s mind is fighting thoughts against one another— this lady speaks a lot with confidence considering the fact that she is a historian, and that’s an indication that she knows a lot of things. Why does it seem like she is missing a lot of things? 

“I have… no idea about my origin. My mother, who adopted me, told me that I was left by her doorstep twenty years ago. Fortunately, she is a woman of heart. She gave me whatever I must have, including the privilege of education, something I’d love to have in every universe.” Y/N smiled as she spoke more. “Due to that reason, I uhm, gained an interest with my heritage. I don’t know where I should point the pin, actually.”

Zhongli figured it out, “Then why wouldn’t a very educated lady like you think about linking yourself to your parents instead of someone from thousands of years ago?” He asked and that sent her into a state of shock.

“I–uhh…”

“You’re a fraud, aren’t you? Are you sent by someone who has daggers pointed at me?” Zhongli asked again, and Y/N immediately got offended.

“E-Excuse me?!” She asked. How can such— highly respected man accuse someone out of nowhere? “Why would you say that? I am presenting myself here as a historian with a personal interest, I have no ill intentions. Besides, what would someone gain from you by sending someone like me?”

Zhongli glared at her, surely in his long life, he would know exactly when something is odd with someone. For some reason, this lady is showing hints of that but he can’t exactly state why. She seems like a genuine young lady who just wanted to know about her past.

“Then respond to the first question.” Zhongli said, intimidating her. “And how do you know that a stranger to you, is acquainted with the God of Dust?”

It seems like Zhongli really is an intimidating man, even before these questions. That’s why Y/N decided to show up with confidence in order to somehow trick him into thinking that she knows what she’s doing. She does, of course, it’s just that she’s missing a lot of information yet she proposed a contract instantly.

Y/N sighed for a moment. “Alright, I lied.” She admits. “I have no evidence that the man is my long lost relative. I was reading Liyue’s history from a book and eventually felt a spiritual connection upon reading his name— intuition, if I may say. It felt like I’ve met that name before, that’s why I immediately thought that he is somehow my ancestor.”

Zhongli held his forehead before sighing. So that’s the reason why he’s unsettled, she lacks proper information and she’s just relying on her intuition? He must’ve overreacted on things this time, accusing her of very odd things. Besides, who would even be angry with him that they’d send this woman?

“This— this sent me into a spiral of doubts and confusion, my apologies.” He said. It seems like her proposed contract is so odd at first and— surprising to him that it gave him headaches. “So, your intention is to find out whether this man is related to you at some sort?” 

Y/N immediately nodded in response. “Uh-huh. He is one of those who lived under the Guili Assembly, leading me into an assumption that he is acquainted with Guizhong.”

Zhongli hummed in response. “And how is this contract going to happen, if I may ask?” He asked another question.

“I would like to request at least two months of you being my companion and my guide, and I’d pay you mora in return.” She said,

“I have no need for your mora.” Zhongli briefly said and stood up. “Do you have an interest in gardening?” 

That’s such a random question. “I do, why do you ask?” 

Zhongli handed her a small pouch, which she immediately opened, revealing a rather unique seed. “Since our contract deals with interest and reliving the history, I would like you to make a long forgotten variant of glaze lily come back to life.” 

Y/N then made a face on that. “Are you serious, Zhongli?”

“I mentally asked the same question when I heard your proposal.” He sarcastically said, making Y/N look at him angrily. “We both have our spiritual bonds within our benefits in the contract, if I may say. Although, a favour so in depth from me shouldn’t need a story behind it.” 

Oh. So this seed must be a very important flower from Zhongli’s past that he remarks it as that spiritually relevant, like what she felt from the name from the history book she read a few weeks ago. 

“I am eager to know the story behind this seed, I apologize in advance.” Y/N said. 

“It is called Yongheng, which means eternity. But like I said, the story behind it has no relevance to why I am asking you to give it a try.” Zhongli said, but Y/N was trying to hold her laughter. “Is there something funny about what I said?”

Y/N cleared her throat in an instant. “I’m sorry, I just find it odd that such is called eternity yet it is long forgotten.” Zhongli just stared at her in disbelief. “Well… maybe it is eternity for a reason then.” 

Zhongli sighed, looking away. “Alright, then. Since you’ve already arranged papers, I’d be writing about our contract.” He said and sat back down, analyzing the paper provided by Y/N.

Y/N excitedly pulled out another page. “And this one is a copy, to make things sure of course.” She handed the paper out with the widest smile ever.

As Zhongli starts writing, she can’t help but think about her future interactions with the said man. Who knew that approaching the man you like would be this easy? She is mentally thanking the Geo Archon for answering all her prayers right now with the widest grin on her face.

Somehow, she noticed a rather odd thing back then. As someone who worships the Archon, she visits the statue a lot to pray and lend her offerings. Looking up at the Geo Archon, he somehow resembles Zhongli. 

Quite a funny thought, she used to say. But as time clocks out, she just came up with the idea that maybe he is that gifted of a man to the point that the Archon painted himself on him. What a strange thought, well, she is a woman who thinks a lot.

“Alright then, I will be needing your signature.” Zhongli said, handing her the papers. She didn’t really read what’s written as she is already informed of what they spoke about, she just directly signed and handed him back one of the two copies. “Then that’s settled, two months of contract. If we may discuss further about what lies under the papers, feel free to reach out to me.”

Y/N paused for a moment… So that’s it? She finally successfully recruited Zhongli to assist her in her little hobby? 

Zhongli was about to stand up, but she spoke. “H-Hold on, Zhongli. How would we begin my research then?”

He gave her an odd look, hinting that she should be the one to know where to begin. But somehow, he realized that this is a favour asked by her. “We can begin right away, show me what you’ve found so far.”

Of course, as someone who studies a lot, Y/N has her own place dedicated for workspace right above her childhood home. Her mother usually stays indoors to read as well, making them share the same interest. 

Y/N brought Zhongli to her lounge, his eyes began wandering in an instant. Loads of shelves only filled with books, about three desks with many papers and ornaments that resemble relevant history, a huge chalkboard behind one of the desks with several written notes, and a cork board by the only wall visible. 

“I apologize for the mess, I haven’t been able to clean my place since I started this research.” Y/N said, grabbing some documents from a shelf. 

It seems like she spends a lot of her time studying, nothing shows a different hobby in this room. Zhongli immediately approached the chalkboard, analyzing what’s written there. Upon reaching a certain sentence, he immediately erased it.

“Z-Zhongli, don’t do that.” Y/N said, shocked that the man tampered with her studies.

He did not respond, he just grabbed a chalk and began writing. Is he correcting her data collected? That’s how confident he is with his knowledge? “Morax defeated several gods during the Archon war, relocating his people upon building the Liyue Harbor. This information of yours is false.” He said, then read another statement.

Y/N stared at the man who’s currently playing puzzles with her studies. 

“Wrong.” He said, erasing the written information again and grabbing the chalk. “Those statues around Liyue are mortals who plead to Rex Lapis to be turned into stone, they weren’t cursed by the Archon.” He says, rewriting the information written by her. “You worship Rex Lapis like a novelist going through the books, but you have false information.”

Y/N gave him an offended look, “Are you sure? I’ve read so many books and all the sources gave me the same answer.”

Zhongli dusted the chalk off his gloves. “I am sure.” He said, walking past her to check her cork board next. “I assume this is your findings about that man?”

Y/N hummed in response, walking towards him and began explaining each and every segment. “His name is Zhang Yuchen, he disappeared a few months during Rex Lapis’ establishment of Liyue Harbor.”

Zhongli felt a shock inside him in an instant… “Zhang… Yuchen?” He asked and Y/N immediately looked at him in excitement. “The man you’re looking for is Zhang Yuchen?” He asked.

“Yes, have you ever heard of him somewhere in your studies?” Y/N asked, and Zhongli took his time to think about this man. 

“He-” He paused. “He is indeed acquainted with Guizhong like you stated.” Zhongli said and eyed another piece of information. 

“So you know him!” Y/N excitedly said. “So, what do you know about him?”

“I have no specific information, to be honest.” He paused. “I just find the name familiar as someone who knows a lot about the Guili Assembly. He is indeed one of those who lived under the establishment before the Archon war.”

Y/N looked at him in amazement. “Zhongli, you are very impressive! You remember names upon just reading them?” She excitedly asked. “I am encountering difficulties with that, I always have to write them down.”

She immediately sat down and grabbed a paper, writing the information Zhongli stated, confirming that some of her theories are correct. She is smiling widely, she is right about making a contract with a certain man.

While Zhongli analyzed the information on the board, he noticed a tiny piece of paper by the corner of it. It is an illustration of the Geo Archon’s statue, which he assumed was made by her. That is the first hobby outside history studying he saw in this room.

Darting his eyes elsewhere, he noticed that Rex Lapis is just everywhere. A small statue of him, various books about him, more illustrations, and basically just everything that resembles him. 

“Y/N, are you at that level of being religious?” He randomly asked. “You seemed to be very fascinated by Rex Lapis.”

Y/N nervously looked at him— those obviously weren't all about Rex Lapis, but Zhongli. Just like what she thought, Zhongli resembles the figure of Rex Lapis in every way. The historical posters of Rex Lapis look a lot like him, they have the same build and hair, making her keep them for some reason.

Of course, Y/N isn’t that much of religious. She sees Rex Lapis as a respectable person, an Archon who wrote their history and worshipping him is a sign of respect to her as someone who studies history.

“Uhm, what do you mean by that level?” She asked and Zhongli just shrugged it off, analyzing her board once again. “I have high respect for our Geo Archon, that’s why. I believe that showing that would be best in worshipping him. What do you think of Rex lapis, Zhongli?”

Zhongli paused for a moment. “A remarkable Archon who protected his people, indeed.” He stated in a low voice. 

Y/N smiled at that. “Indeed! I however have no clue whether your corrections on my previous studies are correct since you have no evidence of them, but they surely made Rex Lapis sound even greater.” She said, standing up and placing the paper on the cork board. “There we go, my theories are now fully backed up by the great Zhongli. I trust that.”

Zhongli looked at her, she had her hands on her hips confidently as she looked at the board. He immediately sighed, shaking his head.

“Zhongli?” She called. “You mentioned that you know a lot about Guizhong, and the Guili Assembly in general, didn’t you?”

He hummed in response. 

“Since you’ve confirmed that our target is somehow related to her, I think it will be very interesting to dig deeper in that topic, don’t you think so too?” She asked and Zhongli agreed. “Great! Let’s get seated.” She immediately headed to her seat, offering the one in front of her for Zhongli. 

Once they sat, she immediately grabbed a massive book, and a piece of paper. “I mentioned that Rex Lapis is related to this research because he is one of those known to have the greatest bond with the God of Dust.”

Zhongli hummed, and nodded. 

“Since you know a lot about both Rex Lapis and Guizhong, could you tell me more about it I am unsure about my whole studies in those topics now that I saw how you confidently corrected them.” Y/N chuckled,

Although, nothing seems to be making him laugh with her. It seems like he is troubled by something but he isn’t choosing to speak about it.

“Zhongli?” She called out and he immediately looked at her. “Are you alright?”

He exhaled loudly, “Pardon me, I just have a… memory entrapped with the name you mentioned. Anyways, I’d be willing to share my knowledge of those topics.” 

However, Y/N doesn’t seem to be interested in proceeding unless she is certain that her partner in this project is alright. “Which name? I only mentioned three; Rex Lapis, Yuchen Zhang, and Guizhong.”

Zhongli did not respond and just grabbed the paper, starting with his writing. It seems like he is avoiding something, but Y/N didn’t want to poke in his personal life. She just spoke to the man for the first time, she didn’t want to leave a bad impression.

She worked hard to gather this much courage to be this near to him, she must be careful not to shatter all of that. She is lucky that she had an interest in this person she started a research for, she had an opportunity to have an interaction with Zhongli.

“Haha! I’m sorry for asking! However, we’re now basically friends so I think it’s alright for me to say that you can always say something that’s bothering you.” Y/N said, trying to ease the awkward silence between them. 

“Thank you for viewing me as a friend. However, I have no plans to be more than acquainted with you, I’m sorry.” He directly rejected her statement in an instant without looking at her. That immediately sent her into an even more awkward situation.

Her face went red upon hearing his voice. “Well— we’re friends, whether you like it or not.” She joked and Zhongli immediately gave her the look of venom, making her laugh awkwardly.

Well, Hu Tao surely lied to her about Zhongli. She said that Zhongli is a very open man in friendship with people, why is he rejecting her? Now, she’s fated to think that Zhongli and her would surely part ways one day.

After all, contracts don't always guarantee a friendship unlike the previous ones she had with others around Liyue. A connection, maybe. But not everyone is on the same level of her friendliness so she must understand that. After all, one of her goals was to have the opportunity to make her name known to the man. 

Like everyone said, he is the man who doesn’t forget. There’s no catch for her to give it a try, at least, right?

“Alright, friend. What did you write about?” She asked, still nagging him about the friendship she wanted. Zhongli just sighed and handed her the paper, “Huh? What is this you wrote?”

“It is the location we’re heading tomorrow morning, and I recommend you not to carry any unseriousness with you.” Zhongli said and stood up.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” She asked and Zhongli hummed in response. “Hold on, I want you to have this.” She said and handed Zhongli a charm with an engraved geo symbol on it. 

“What is this, if I may ask?” He asked. 

“A fragment of my new mechanism.” She stated and showed another pair that’s tied on her necklace. She shook it with a smile, hearing a bell inside. “See? Did you hear that? Isn’t that very interesting?”

Zhongli sighs. “What is the purpose of me having this?” He asked, the charm laying flat on his hand.

Y/N immediately tied it on his coat. “Since we’re going to be friends for two months, contact is most relevant.” She explained and pressed the stone, making Zhongli’s pair lit up. “See? Isn’t that amazing? We can use this for communication if we couldn’t be vocal, or maybe just a way to announce something if we’re far from one another.”

Zhongli did not respond and just looked at the charm on his chest.

Y/N immediately sensed the awkward sensation in between them. “Ah, haha! Worry not, if you do not like them, you can return them after our project.” She said with an awkward laugh. “Alright, I will send you off now.” 

She accompanied him outdoors and began waving like a happy woman. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright?” She bid her goodbye, watching his back figure walk away from her place.

Y/N spent her afternoon reading a book about the seed Zhongli gave her. “Yongheng is such a complex plant.” She sighed, standing up by her window. Her book is open by the desk underneath, and a pot of healthy soil is by her window.

She plans to nurse it before planting it outdoors, next to the nearest statue of Rex Lapis, near the Luhua Pool for an even better soil quality. She placed her chin on her palm, leaning on the desk below the window while standing up.

Why does Zhongli want this to go back anyways? Surely, they’ve been gone long ago. Everyone in Liyue probably has no idea about its existence.  She sighed, putting the seed in the pot and burying it with the healthy soil she collected.

Will this even grow in two months? And only one seed means only one trial in this experiment. What would happen if she failed to make it grow like Zhongli asked? What will be her consequence for violating their contract?

“I’ll take care of you, Yongheng.” She said upon watering it. 

Also, something just came out of her mind… Did she leave a very bad impression on Zhongli earlier? It seems like he is someone difficult to be close with, unlike what Hu Tao told her.

Zhongli on the other side reached his place, it’s just near the Wangsheng Parlor. He immediately sat down and removed the charm given by the lady. He placed it on the table and stared at it. 

Strange creation, he thought. 

He then opened a small compartment by his deck, getting a small bag and closing it after. He immediately removed the object off the bag and placed it next to the charm given by Y/N.

It is identical, same figure, same style. However, the one he kept is very old. How can a human like Y/N have such a thing that’s identical to what he had from ancient times? He sighed upon thinking, is this some sort of organization that’s still active to this day?

But that seems to be impossible, he handled hundreds of generations in thousands of years, there is no way he missed this kind of charm. For the first time in almost 4,000 years, he saw this stone again, but it looks good as new. 

“Guizhong…” He whispered under his breath. “Why do you still linger?”

[previous] [next]

[main]

This is a fanfiction based on Genshin Impact’s Zhongli, all made with my imagination. Please do not copy, translate, or repost to another platform without my permission!! —⋆｡°✩ Thank you so much!!

[ryanisasleep]

You know....I was thinking...like hear me out chat. MDNI this is just a blurb. Take free inspo but if you do pls credit me (I just wanna read more fics)

We know this poor baby girl always went with girls and all the ducking time he had to top (the few times he actually had sex) and it was all good yk he loves it, his girlfriend loves it, everyone loves it.

He is always the one to be the big spoon, always the one to be the "man" of the relationship and yk after all these years he has been alive, he just wants to lay down and be pampered like a princess for one time.

He envied the way he treated his past partners, envied the way they could recieve and he started to wonder what it could be like to be the one recieving.

All of these thoughs lead him to wonder firstly to explore himself then search for someone to find what he was looking for.

But poor boy :( always has work to do and dangerous too.

Anyway, enough of that. My point is, his hair had just began to grey and so his libido, his chances were beginning to dim when you joined the team dome months ago.

He began to sniff the hair around you very discritely. The air smelt of burnt testosterone, a sigh that you may be older than he thinks and a smell of...he couldn't quiet put it.

Soon he began to wonder around more around you, always discreet but he wanted to know more about you.

He saw your hair beginning to grey from your temples and some on your growing beard. He began to stirr up halfs conversations wanting to know what kind of things you liked and soon you began to warm up to him.

Your mutation made you live very very long but also gave you some quirky animal behaviours, like half growling or panting when exausted.

You and him liked to play tug of war to see who could be the strongest, it was a time killer between the moments of quick quietness your profession as X-men had.

After a patrol that turned into a fight in the mud and sand, it was time to head for the showers. As you shaked off the grime you watched him approach.

"Wanna head for the showers?" you stopped ruffling your hair in an attemp to shake off the dirt "you want to? Isn't that the only time you can truly be alone?" he looked back at the mansion and then at you

"Yeah but I could use some company" he said in one of the most usual tones.

As water began to fall on his shoulders you got the body wash and began to wash yourself.

He came after you, he went under the other stream of water and, through the mist, he looked at your back littered with scars.

"Why you staring this much? Like what you see?" you joked as you glanced at him.

"I have to say yes" he headed in your direction.

.

You looked at his hands, they were chiseld, born from thousands of battles. You felt sorry for him, sprry for the way he was treated, like an animal or a war dog.

They were precise on his skin though, made as well from the countless battles he endoured. You walked to him, only a thin mist distancing you two.

Normally he hated people that close to him, you watched many times him tense up and crossing his arms on his chest as a sort of protective way. You eyed when he would walk away or act all mean, you knew it was a defensive mechanism but many people didn't seem to catch on that and it made him angrier than ever.

He would only calm down while being alone or while chugging down a beer or...when he was alone with you.

It happend that he would search comfort in your room, maybe under the sheets of your round bed made as a cave or nest with tons of plushies (I call it autism cave) or maybe just wearing one of your jackets. You asked him why he did that and he replied "the first quiet place that came up in my mind" or "I was cold".

But now? Almost nothing was separating you two, only vapor and he? He was...calm. You hesitantly put your hands around his waist, treating it like it was glass. He didn't mind, he put his on yours and you two remained silent, water being the only sound.

For a moment you thought you fucked up but no, you didn't. He gently brought one of your hands near his mouth and he kissed it. He turned around facing you and he leaned at the wall.

Your expression was somewhat sad as it stared at his hand. "It hurts every time, doesn't it" you traced the bones in his hand. "Everytime"

A moment of hesitance was all it took for you two to slowly kiss. You embraced his form. No barriers separating the two of you, just a deep hug and a passionate kiss.

Honestly I was planning of doing this as a smut version but I needed to put down some ideas so yes this is just me yapping

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Wedding Invitations

Summary: Colter Shaw x Fe!Reader -> You and Colter have known each other since you were 15. He was there to help you once, and he's here to help you now.

Disclaimer: This may end up being a two parter. Light swearing, jerk exes, protective Colter, friends to lovers vibes kinda, little angst, sad fluff, cute fluff, happy-ish ending I guess. Not proof read.

Colter didn’t know what to do, exactly, when Reenie called him and said you needed him. 

All he knew was that within five minutes, he was turning back down the highway and headed straight for your home. 

A thousand and one things ran through Colter’s mind as he sped down the road. Were you in danger? Have you been hurt? How bad was it?

However, when Reenie called him back and explained what had happened, he felt his heart sink a little. 

The last time he had seen you, you had just started dating a guy. It seemed to be going well and you seemed happy enough. Last time he had talked to you, you were elbow deep in wedding invitations, asking him over the phone if he could make it since it was a lot easier than finding an address he’d be at long enough. 

And that was just last week. 

By the time Colter pulled up outside your home, the second car he usually saw in the background of your facetime, was gone. Your car was still there, so you were definitely home. 

Small lights led up the path to your home before the porch light lit up the deck. However, save for a lamp or two, no lights were on inside the house. 

He knocked, but no answer came. 

So he tried the garage door. 

It slid up instantly and when Colter got a look inside, it looked like someone had left in a hurry. Most of what was left was…wedding stuff. 

He had to force the door open, but it wasn’t long before he was inside the house. 

It smelt of you. Which was an odd comfort for him. 

It was like the perfect mixture of blueberry pie, cinnamon and…warmth. 

Colter made his way through the house, calling out your name. 

There was broken glass on the floor, with a can of unopened soda sat on the coffee table. It was no longer cold and most of the condensation was already sinking into the wood beneath it. 

Colter called out your name again. 

In the kitchen, he found…blueberry pie. 

A slight smile came to his face, before he continued to check the house. 

As he climbed the stairs, he began to hurry his steps, searching the rooms until from down the hallway, he spotted the open door to the bathroom.

The closer he walked, the clearer his view became. 

There you were. 

With your arms balanced on your propped up knees, your head was down and your eyes were closed, tears rolling hot down your cheeks. In your hands, you clutched onto a towel from where you’d dried your face earlier. 

Colter walked closer and waited for a moment by the door. 

“Well…this feels oddly familiar.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to look up. 

And Colter felt his heart break. 

You were still crying, but you just looked…beat. Ready to sleep. Ready to cry some more. Ready to just…fall. 

Maybe you already had. 

“Yeah. Kinda.”

Without a second thought, Colter rushed inside and came and sat beside you. He pulled you inside his side, and you moulded directly into him. You hadn’t realised how cold you were until you were met with the heat of his body and the warmth of his touch. 

With a head on his chest, he curled his hand around and placed it on top of your head, almost shielding you from the world. 

This wasn’t unlike almost twenty years ago when, after sneaking out to go to a friend’s party (despite the fact he’d already been pulled out of school), Colter found you. 

You’d both been partners in History class. And you’d had a small friendship, at least. This also included him knowing who you had a crush on, even if you wouldn’t tell him. 

So, when he had lost track of you at the party, only to find your crush making out with the girl who was meant to be your best friend, he knew why you had disappeared. At least, that was what he suspected. 

And he wasn’t wrong. 

He found you in the top floor bathroom which no-one went to since it was so far up, and if you were that desperate for the bathroom, you wouldn’t have made it to the top of the house. 

When he found you, you had been slumped down on the floor, crying your eyes out. 

However, compared to then, when your emotions and your voice were also uncontrollable and constant after such an early heart break…it was no longer like that. 

Or, at least, on the outside it wasn’t. 

When you spoke, despite the constant flowing tears, your voice was shaky but pressured to be even. And by the way you were clutching onto the towel in your hands, that told Colter it was taking everything in your to not break down. To not scream, or cry too loudly, to not sob, to not shake. 

However, that last one was becoming more difficult to control. 

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” Colter asked, finding your eyes. 

“In a minute. Can you just keep hugging me?”

Colter nodded before pulling you closer, resting his chin on top of your head and squeezing your tighter in his arms. 

After a good ten minutes, your tears finally stilled long enough for you to take a deep breath and move back. 

“Thank you for coming.”

“You never have to thank me for coming to you.”

You nodded, avoiding his gaze for a moment before sitting up as best as you could. 

“I didn’t see it coming.”

Colter just sat and watched and listened as you told him everything that had happened. 

“I was at work, grading papers, when he called. He said to come home, instead of going to the wedding venue after work. We were going to sign the final papers. Everything had been confirmed, it was just a final formality.”

“I thought it was a little weird, but when I came home…all of his boxes were packed. And I mean…everything. Every record, every picture, every book, every…thing. It was all packed. Hell, it was even labelled!”

You had to laugh before you cried again. You touched a finger to your eyes, wiping a small tear away from the edge of your eye. 

“Apparently, he’d been feeling lost for a couple weeks. Weeks! He didn’t even say anything. He didn’t even…show anything. Everything was normal. We were happy. And…” you took a deep breath, but Colter just waited for you to continue. 

“And then he got a call. And I knew. He didn’t even answer it. Just…let it ring. It was so silent, Colter. Just knowing that he was moving on, had moved on before even moving out. I…didn’t even…we were meant to be getting married, Colter. We’ve been together for eight years and to just…leave…”

Colter rubbed his hand up and down your arm, feeling how cold you were. 

“How about I make you some tea? Reenie always says that can help? And maybe get you a sweater, you’re freezing.”

“After he left I just…I don’t even remember.”

Colter nodded, standing up before lowering his hands to help you up from the floor. 

Twenty minutes later, Colter had boiled the water and made you both a cup of tea before ordering food. 

He might not have gotten to see you often, but you’d both talked long enough over the years that he had learnt that when you graded papers you tended to get a little caught up and miss dinner. And considering what had transpired after you got home from work, it didn’t take a genius to figure out why your stomach was rumbling. 

It was also in those twenty minutes that Colter came to learn more about your now ex-fiance. 

He’d been feeling ‘lost’ for a few weeks, until he met a woman at work. She was a consultant that had come into town for a few days before flying back out to Sydney. Turned out they had grown up two towns apart when they were kids, so had a lot in common. They got to talking and…it grew from there. 

On the rare occasion work got caught up, he was actually with her. On dates, laughing and smiling and kissing and just…

“So, what happens now?”

“He’s moving to Sydney,” you told him. “His flight leaves tomorrow. All his boxes were being taken to a storage unit in town. His assistant is gonna make sure they’re shipped over.”

“Did he move them all out himself?”

You shook your head. “Movers came in. It’s odd…they knew my relationship was ending before I did.”

“I am sorry,” Colter told you. 

“What for? You didn’t suddenly break up with me, did you?”

“No, but I’m still sorry.”

“Thanks, Colt.”

You took his hand in yours for a moment, until the bell rang. 

“That’ll be the food. I’ll get it.” Colter said before standing, quickly kissing your forehead and disappearing down the hall and towards the front door. 

However, after five minutes of hearing distant talking, you heard the door shut. 

It took you a moment, but you looked behind you and followed the same path as Colter. The pizza box and bag of other items were by the door and Colter was…outside?

When Colter got to the door, the Pizza Guy was balancing the other random take-away bits on top. 

“Here, let me-”

“Thanks, man.”

“How much do I owe you?”

“25.”

“Here you go.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Yeah.”

However, as the Pizza Guy walked down the porch and back to his car, Colter spotted a slightly familiar car down the road and a somewhat familiar face walking towards the house. 

Leaving the food by the door, Colter walked outside immediately and headed straight for the guy. 

“Hey, no, turn around.”

“Excuse me?” The guy stopped in his tracks. 

It took him a moment to recognise the face in front of him. 

“C…Colter?”

“Hi, Jonathan. Turn around.”

“What-”

“You’re not welcome here.”

“This is my house!”

“No, this was your house.”

“Same thing.”

“Actually, it’s not. See, ‘is’ suggests that you still live here. However, considering you moved all your stuff out earlier today, I’d say that signifies enough to say you don’t live here anymore.”

“Can I at least talk to her?”

“And say what?” Colter asked, stopping Jonathan in his tracks. “That you’re sorry. She’s not gonna want to hear it.”

“How would you know what she wants? You don’t even see her!”

“That’s your excuse? That's because I don’t see her, I don’t know her? You’ve got to have a better come back than that. You know what, I’ll give you another shot. Tell me why I wouldn’t know what she wants.”

Jonathan took a moment, but when nothing came to him, he sighed. “Look, man. I just want to clear the air here and give back my key.”

“And you didn’t think to leave that behind when you packed up your stuff?”

“I just thought-”

“I can give it back to her.”

“I’d prefer-”

“You don’t get a say in this, Jonathan. You were the one to walk out. If you wanted out, you could have at least been a decent human and talk to her, rather than dumping all of this on her on a random Friday.” Colter explained before he paused. “Actually, not that random. On a Friday you were meant to sign off on your wedding venue.”

“Look, man, I already feel as bad as it is-”

“Good.”

Jonathan seemed to get a little offended at Colter’s bluntness. 

“Look, man-”

“If you think you’re getting off lightly here, you’re not. You broke her heart. You spent the last eight years together and in a few hours you end everything. You pack up your shit, you print out plane tickets, you tell her you’ve met someone else. Do you even know what you had?”

“Look, man-”

“Say ‘Look, man,” one more time and I’ll do her a favour and start throwing the punches she didn’t earlier.” Colter’s gaze darkened and he seemed to grow broader.

“Look-” Jonathan paused. “Colter. I understand you want to help her but this is really between herself and I.”

“Maybe.” Colter agreed. “Maybe before you pulled this crap but the second you hurt her, that was the second it became my business. Now, I’m sure your new girlfriend is lovely but Y/n? You’ll never meet anyone like her, ever. And you just let her go. Stupidly, might I add.”

“Jees, don’t hold back.” Jonathan tried to laugh. 

“Oh, I won’t.”

You watched the two men fall silent for a moment before speaking up. 

“Colter?”

Colter’s entire posture and gaze softened for a moment as he turned back and looked at you. 

“Yeah? Oh, yeah. Just..give me a minute?”

That was something you were thankful for. You and Colter sometimes never had to speak, you just knew what the other was thinking. 

However, Jonathan called your name. 

“Wait-”

“Fuck you, Jonathan!” you held up your middle finger, bringing the pizza box back inside  before closing the door. 

“She doesn’t have to speak to me like that?”

Colter had no words. Just a look, mostly made of confusion. 

“I think it’s best if you leave, and don’t come back.”

“Hey, hey, wait! Just wait a minute! I need to talk to her. I need to clear the air.”

Colter sighed. “I’ll do you this one kindness. Tell me what you want to tell her, and I will tell her. Because you’re not getting within ten feet of that house. Not after what you did.”

“It’s not like I cheated on her!”

“Except that you did.” Colter was finally getting Jonathan closer to his car, even if it was through physically moving him. 

“I waited until after I left to ask Jen to be my girlfriend.”

“Because that makes a difference?”

“It does!”

Colter sighed, “Jonathan, just do everyone a favour and shut up?”

“But-”

“Don’t come back here.”

It took a second but Jonathan finally got back into his car before handing the key over to Colter. “Just…tell her I never meant to hurt her.”

“Too late for that.”

Jonathan couldn’t say anything else so rolled up his window and drove off. 

Colter stood in the middle of the street for a few minutes watching his car roll down the street before turning the corner and heading for the highway. 

When he walked back inside, he found you sitting on the sofa. 

“What did he want?”

“To give you this back.”

You turned to look at Colter. It was the spare key to your house. 

“You can just leave it on the side.”

After a few minutes, Colter finally sat beside you on the sofa, handing you a soda. You lay your head on his shoulder and stared up at the TV screen. 

“I feel really crap.”

Colter nodded slightly. “I know Reenie would probably tell you to get up and, I don’t know, go out and get drunk but if you just want to eat junk food and fall asleep, I can support that. And then go out, if you want to do that too.”

You smiled for the first time since you came home. “Junk food and sleep sounds really good right now.”

“Okay then.”

It took a couple minutes to find a film before you both landed on an old showing of a classic hollywood movie. You couldn’t remember the title, but when you'd finished your food and talking to Colter about whatever case he’d been on before Reenie called him, you found yourself falling asleep. 

And when you woke up in the morning, something felt different. 

You weren’t in your bed. You weren’t in your bed with Jonathan. You were on the sofa. Snug in the crook of it. With half of your body on…a sleeping Colter. 

He looked so peaceful. 

The sun was still slowly coming up and by the clock on the wall, it was around seven thirty in the morning. Stupid body clock. 

You groaned a little and fell back into the warmth of Colter, your head on his chest. His grip on you tightened for a moment before it settled again and you found yourself just listening to the repetitive rhythm of his heartbeat. 

Every now and again, your mind would replay the events from the day before. Getting the call, coming home, watching the movers, listening to Jonathan’s voice telling you your future together was over, just like that. Waiting for them to leave whilst you remained in the bathroom, splashing your face with cold water and drying it. Getting the final knock on the bathroom door from one of the movers. Jonathan seemed to be searching for you for a moment and for a split second, you thought he was going to yell “wake up” as if you’d fallen asleep marking papers. But you hadn’t. It was real, and he was asking for his ring back. It took you a moment, and taking it off your finger felt foreign. Strange. Like an out of body experience. 

And then it was over. 

You were alone. 

In a home you thought was going to be yours and Jonathan’s. One where maybe you could start a family one day. 

But that was all shattered. 

Until Colter. 

When he walked into the bathroom, you had a flashback to being fifteen again and crying over a boy in a bathroom at a party. Except this time, you’d spend eight years of your life with this guy and your wedding invitations and seating chart and placements were all in storage in the garage. 

And when he hugged you…you knew it would be okay. 

You didn’t know if you’d be feeling better the next day, or the day after that or even in a week’s time. Eight years was a lot to throw away in the space of a couple of hours. 

But you knew it would be okay. 

Colter reassured you with that. 

By the time he woke up, him looking at you with a slightly dazed look, you both just lay there for a moment. 

“I’d apologise for falling asleep on you, but I don’t think I’m sorry. You’re a decent pillow.”

Colter chuckled. “Thanks.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, but also not.”

“Want breakfast?”

“Not right now.”

“I’ll make pancakes?”

“Eggs are in the fridge.”

Colter chuckled lightly at that before moving his arm from around your back, kissed your head, and slowly sat up. He couldn’t lie. He got a decent night's sleep often, but nothing like that. 

“Chocolate chips are in the cupboard.” You called out as he rounded the sofa and walked towards the kitchen. 

After a moment you heard; “Got em’.”

Colter stayed for two weeks. 

Mostly because he found a case in town nearby. But also because he rarely got to see you and he was helping you. 

It was tough, calling the caterers, the venue, the officiant, the florist. It was even tougher calling all the friends and family. 

Your family insisted on coming up to see you, but you reassured them you’d be okay. You’d come and see them soon, but until then you just needed some space. Some alone time. 

“And you don’t need alone time with me?” Colter asked. 

“You don’t ask questions like ‘how could you let this happen?’ and ‘what about my future grandbabies?’ and ‘you know your cousin’s wedding is coming up, we can always tell friends of the family Jonathan is on a business trip’.”

Colter looked a little confused. 

“One on my dad’s side. She’s not exactly…thrilled about single women when they could have had the whole ‘big white wedding’.”

Colter shrugged his shoulders, “I could always go with you.”

You laughed a little. “Colter, you don’t have to do that. Also, I’ve been trying to get out of going to that wedding for months. This gives me the perfect excuse.”

“Well, the offer’s always there.”

You smiled. “Thanks.”

“What about this one?” Colter asked, showing you a photo. 

“Put it in the maybe pile.”

You were hunting through all your photos to find ones to put in the now empty picture frames. After a week, Colter had found you going around the entire house at three in the morning, emptying all of the frames that held any pictures of yourself and Jonathan. 

By the time you finished, you carried the last of the boxes from the garage to the attic with Colter’s help. 

However, that just left the wedding stuff. 

“What do I do with it?”

“It’s extreme but you could burn it?”

You turned to Colter. “Did Reenie text you?”

“Yeah.” He admitted. 

You turned back to the box. “It’s not a terrible idea. Though, I don’t have anything to burn them in for such a big quantity. I do have a shredder. Yep, that’ll have to do.”

For the next two hours Colter handed you each placement card and wedding invitation to shred. 

And it was there, sitting behind your sofa on the floor, with Colter, shredding wedding invitations, that you knew you’d be okay. 

It might take a while, but you’d be okay. 

[poutysprouty]

Not edited.

Part 1 | Part 2

♡︎ — i was just thinking….

Miguel’s breath hitched as he stared at your arm, the words he'd spoken burned into your skin like a proclamation from the universe itself. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. Hell, what could he say? The realization that you were his soulmate crashed over him like a tidal wave, threatening to drown him in both hope and fear.

He let out a breath, and then, without thinking, he reached up, slowly removing his mask. It felt like the weight of a thousand decisions lifted from his shoulders as he revealed his face to you, feeling the cool night air brush over his exposed skin. His breath hitched in his chest as he met your gaze, his dark eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation, any flicker of doubt.

Your eyes widened, glistening in the soft glow of the fairy lights. You reached up and pressed a hand to your lips, as if to suppress the emotions flooding your face. Miguel could feel his heart cracking open, the walls he’d built around himself for years crumbling to dust.

He wanted to say something, anything, to ease the tension, but his voice felt caught in his throat. Instead, you took a step closer and gently reached for his hand. Miguel hesitated, unsure if he deserved to feel your touch, but he didn’t pull away. When your fingers brushed against his, he felt like the world had righted itself for the first time in years.

You tugged him toward a small table nearby, your free hand gesturing for him to sit. Miguel followed, letting you guide him, still too stunned to resist. Once seated, you picked up your whiteboard from beside the chair, uncapped the marker, and began to write.

You’re my soulmate, the words read in your neat handwriting, followed by a small smiley face. You held the board up, your expression soft but hopeful.

Miguel’s lips parted, and he exhaled a shaky breath. He leaned back in the chair, running a hand over his face before meeting your gaze again. “I… I didn’t think I’d ever find you,” he admitted, his deep voice laced with vulnerability.

You tilted your head, your brow furrowing slightly, and you wrote something else on the board.

Why not?

Miguel hesitated, his fingers drumming on his knee as he tried to gather his thoughts. “I never had anything show up,” he murmured. “My arm stayed bare when I turned 16. For years, I thought I was… broken. Or worse, that I didn’t have a soulmate.”

Your brows knit together, and you quickly scribbled a response.

I was afraid that may be a possibility. I thought my words may not appear since I can’t speak.

He stared at the words for a long moment, his jaw tightening as he processed everything. “Querida,” he murmured softly, the endearment slipping out naturally, “I’m so sorry. You must’ve thought—” He stopped himself, shaking his head. “You didn’t deserve to feel that way.”

You offered him a soft smile, one that seemed to melt away the storm brewing inside him. You erased the board and wrote something new:

We found each other, though. That’s what matters.

Miguel huffed a quiet laugh, leaning his elbows on his knees. “You’re too kind,” he said, his voice low. “More than I deserve.”

You frowned at that, shaking your head firmly before writing again:

Don’t say that. You saved me—twice now. And not just from the balcony.

The words hit Miguel harder than he expected. He stared at you, his chest tightening as he realized how much you truly meant to him already. You were his light in the dark, the one thing he never thought he’d have but always secretly longed for.

“Thank you,” he finally said, his voice thick with emotion. “For not giving up on finding me. For giving me this chance.”

You smiled, setting the board down and reaching for his hand again. This time, he didn’t hesitate. His fingers closed around yours, warm and steady, as if anchoring himself to you.

“I won’t let you go,” he vowed, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart flutter. “Not now. Not ever.”

You nodded, squeezing his hand as if to say, I feel the same.

The two of you sat there under the fairy lights, the city buzzing faintly in the background. For the first time in years, Miguel felt at peace. He had found his soulmate, the person who was meant to be his, and he silently promised himself that he would do everything in his power to keep you safe and happy.

You didn’t need words to know he meant it.

----

The (long awaited) 3rd and final part of the soulmate series!! Sorry it took so long - life has been insane, to put it mildly lol.

[singemall-stayallnight]

James "Bucks" Burnett's Stories About Jimmy Page - Part 2

Part 1

Jimmy Page and Bucks Burnett in his Houses of The Holy suit, Tower House, London, 2013. | © Robert Greeson

In 2007 I Attended the Led Zeppelin Reunion as a Guest of Jimmy Page's Ex-Wife

By Bucks Burnett December 13, 2017

I found about about the 2007 Led Zeppelin reunion when I received an email with "Led Zeppelin Reunion" in the subject header. I thought that it was spam or maybe a hallucination until I saw the sender’s name: Jimmy Page’s former spouse, Jimena Paratcha Page.

“The band is getting together for a one-off concert in London on November 26," the email read. "Please keep this private as it won’t be announced until Wednesday. Let me know if you want tickets and passes.”

This was in late September 2007. When I read the email, my jaw dropped. Could this really be happening? After a few minutes of stunned silence, I replied "yes" and "thanks." It was that easy.

After the show was announced and the global media exploded, a lottery ticket system was set up and more than 20 million emails from all over the world crashed the system. Twenty thousand people bought tickets. Fans worldwide felt the heartbreak of being excluded. Many prayed for a tour announcement that never came. I thanked my lucky stars. I’m still thanking them.

I first met Jimmy Page in Houston in 1985, when I served as live-in butler and personal assistant to Small Faces bassist Ronnie Lane. We hit it off that night and have remained close friends since. I met Jimena Paratcha Page in 1997 at Jimmy Page’s London home, Tower House, when we gathered to attend a Paul Rodgers show at the Royal Albert Hall.

Bucks Burnett Archives

By 2007, there was no reason to believe that the three remaining members of Led Zeppelin would ever reunite, but suddenly it was happening. With flight booked, I waited and imagined. I had not seen Led Zeppelin since 1977, and a 30-year dry spell was about to end.

The concert could have easily been canceled when, in early November, Jimmy Page fell in his garden and broke two fingers on his left hand. A postponement was announced, and after a week or so, the show was rescheduled for Dec. 10. Fans had to change thousands of flights and hotel reservations.

About a month before the show, I got a crazy idea: What if I could attend the show wearing a custom-made suit with the Houses of The Holy artwork on the pants and jacket? I was told this would be impossible, but thanks to a young seamstress in Austin by the name of Jess, I received my suit via FedEx one hour before I departed my house in Dallas for my flight to London.

I was still packing, and there wasn’t time to open the suit. I threw it in my suitcase, and about 20 hours later, I opened it in London and tried it on. As I checked the suit in the mirror, I realized I had, indeed, gone through the looking glass. This was getting real.

Jimena Paratcha Page kindly invited my party to journey down the Thames to the concert at the O2 Arena via a rented boat named Mercia. Imagine passing by Big Ben on a boat while chatting with Brian May and Juliette Lewis. It was that kind of night.

Once at the arena, I couldn't walk 20 feet without someone asking me to pose with them for a picture of my suit. It was a hit. I thought lots of people would show up in special Zeppelin attire, but it seemed I was the only one.

I didn’t see any of the opening acts. I was people-watching in the walkway.

What was it like being there? It was like Willy Wonka had printed 20,000 golden tickets for a private party with Led Zeppelin playing. All of us were wandering around, staring and waving at each other, chatting each other up. There were people of all ages and nationalities. We all had the feeling that this was our Woodstock. It was extraordinary.

When the lights went off, the arena erupted as the opening chords to “Good Times Bad Times” announced the beginning of a dream. The lights came on, and there they were again, at long, long last: John Paul Jones, Robert Plant and Jimmy Page, with John Bonham’s son Jason filling in on drums. It was an incredible rush to see them together again. It was two hours of very loud disbelief.

“We’ve been told that people from 50 different countries are here tonight," Plant said near the end of the show. "This is the 51st.” And with that came the opening chords to “Kashmir.” The whole thing just left the planet. “Kashmir” played in London for a handful of fortunate believers — this was the fabled night when Led Zeppelin flew again, one last time.

Bucks Burnett Archives

The next day, I walked to a corner shop in my bathrobe and pajamas. I bought 10 different London daily newspapers, all with photos and reviews of the show on the front pages. The global media declared the event a bold triumph. I knew then, and I know now, that I had experienced something too incredible to fall within the reach of words.

In 2012,the Celebration Day CD and DVD were finally released. I attended the press conference for the launch in New York and ended up heckling a CNN reporter for being the fifth journalist in a row to ask about a reunion tour.

A year after that, in November 2013, I found myself back in Tower House in London for another surreal moment. Jimmy Page grinned as he signed his name near the signatures of Jones and Bonham on my Holy suit jacket.

“I believe ya told me Robert [Plant] refused to sign this, right?” he asked.

“Yep,” I said.

“Well then," he said as a mad gleam sparkled in his eyes, "it might be worth something!”

I might be the luckiest Led Zeppelin fan on Earth. Ten years gone, and it still plays like a fantasy in my head, as if I were really there. Maybe I was.

[knaccblog]

Aziraphale and "I Forgive You"

So after I watched the first season a few times however many years ago, I noticed something, wrote up a bit of a meta about it and then never posted it. I thought that it was either very obvious or very silly and either way, no one needed to see it. But now it's several years and another season later and again, I'm noticing the exact same thing so here it goes- I think the reason Aziraphale keeps saying that he forgives Crowley has overall very little to do with what Crowley has just done right before Aziraphale says it and much more to do with a secret Aziraphale hides deep within himself and has for thousands of years, a truth that he hates to acknowledge and is terrified to speak aloud: he thinks God is wrong to have not Forgiven Crowley.

Get settled in because this is gonna take a bit.

The first time I started noticing this really clearly is the Bandstand Breakup scene. Crowley starts by cussing God literally out- "For the record, great, pustulant, mangled bollocks to the Great blasted Plan." To which Aziraphale says, "May you be forgiven." And yes, Crowley has just sinned and Aziraphale is a stuffy angel but the way Aziraphale says it is like a hope, atleast to my ears. Like he's really wishing that God will see how good Crowley truly is and bring him back to Heaven even though he keeps doing stupid stuff like this

Anyway, Crowley then responds with, "I won't be forgiven. Not ever. Part of a demon's job description. Unforgivable. That's what I am." And Aziraphale responds again with a hopeful sounding, "You were an angel once." At this point, I was almost sure that he's talking about his personal wishes here. It sounds like he's saying, "Come on, Crowley. There's a chance." To which Crowley responds, "That was a long time ago," basically saying it's impossible and shutting that whole bit of the conversation down. And you can just watch Aziraphale's face fall at that, like it kills him for that to be true. 

The next time the topic of forgiveness and Crowley comes up is when Crowley shows up to beg Aziraphale to run away with him one last time. In this conversation, Aziraphale is very adamant that if he talks to the right people, they won't want the apocalypse and they'll stop it. He, of course, thinks this because his most core belief is that God is good and that even if we don't understand how what God is doing is good right now, it will lead to goodness eventually via the Rube Goldburg machine which is time and the universe etc aka God is ineffable. But even Aziraphale can't imagine how the ineffable Rube Goldburg machine could turn an event where everything on earth dies into a good one so therefore, he's certain that God doesn't want the Apocalypse.

Crowley responds to this hope with, "You're so clever. How can someone as clever as you be so stupid?" to which Aziraphale responds, "I forgive you" in a very gentle but sure tone. And now yes, while it is entirely possible that Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for calling him stupid, I've always felt like that would be a rather weighty response considering how mild an insult it is. It's also possible (and I feel slightly more likely) that Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for his lack of faith, his inability to believe in the goodness of God anymore. 

And that could definitely be it, but if we think about the way Aziraphale had talked about forgiveness at the Bandstand, the hope and desire that he seemed to put into the idea of forgiveness and Crowley and the fact that Crowley had dismissed it as entirely impossible for him to ever be forgiven, than a third read of Aziraphale's "I forgive you" emerges: one in which Aziraphale is saying, "While God might never forgive you, I do". It's "I might never see you again since you intend to run away to the stars but if this is the last time I ever see you, I want you to know that I think you are deserving of forgiveness. That I see the good in you even if God can't." It's a combination "I love you" and small rebellion against God, because while Aziraphale can't bring himself to give up on Her completely and run away with Crowley (even though a part of him clearly wants to), he is willing to say that She's done this one thing wrong and it's never forgiving Crowley, who Aziraphale can see clearly is more kind and good than any of the angels he knows.

So yeah, that was about where the idea rested at the end of the first season but now we have a bunch of new historical scenes and a new "I forgive you" following a very loaded conversation in which Aziraphale got extremely excited by the idea of Crowley being reinstated as an Angel and I felt like this idea has even more legs than before. 

To me, it's very clear that Aziraphale's pitch for Crowley to come back to Heaven isn't him hoping to "reset" Crowley to how he was before the Fall or him being incapable of loving Crowley as a Demon and instead was him being overjoyed to have this secret truth (Crowley is deserving of God's Forgiveness) that he's been observing for 6000ish years be acknowledged and have a chance to come to fruition. After all, as we saw this season (and honestly last season too but less pronounced), Crowley, current Demon Crowley, not the angel he knew over 6000 years ago, has proven over and over again just how truly good he is to Aziraphale.

For example, in the Job sequence, Crowley does a truly good thing that no Angel (beside Aziraphale) would do or even think that they should do and that is save Job's children. And through the entirety of this bit, Aziraphale basically always believes that he will. There are even two moments where Crowley tries his best to scare Aziraphale away, to play up being the bad guy (so as to better hide the con he's running and protect Aziraphale), but Aziraphale's faith in Crowley's goodness does not falter. At the end of the day, it seems clear that Aziraphale has more faith that Crowley will do the good thing, the correct thing than God. Conveniently for Aziraphale's faith in God though, not understanding how something horrible he hates will eventually lead to goodness in the long run is a foundational principle of said faith so his faith in God remains strong even after everything She and Heaven do to Job. 

But his faith in Crowley doesn't require such a complicated work around. He believes Crowley won't kill children and he is correct. Though unfortunately, this very simplicity leads to a new problem, a problem that we can see eventually solidify in Aziraphale's mind, becoming a running theme of their association and leading to the eventual "I forgive you"s.

Aziraphale can clearly see how kind and good Crowley is, how he does the right thing as best he can, even when he could (and sometimes does) get into immense trouble for it. But for some reason, despite repeated evidence that Crowley is everything that Aziraphale believes Angels are and should be, Crowley continues to be a Demon. And once you realize that Aziraphale has noticed this contradiction and that it most likely haunts him and is a constant challenge to his worldview, it colors a lot of what he says in a new light. Many of what seem like simple, self-righteous statements reveal themselves to be Aziraphale trying to protecting himself from a massive logical inconsistency he keeps stumbling across. 

"It must be bad, otherwise you wouldn't have tempted them into it," Aziraphale says, clearly not quite sure why it's bad actually. 

"You, I'm afraid, are evil," Aziraphale asserts, basically stating that Crowley is evil because he's evil. It's tauntological and therefore doesn't have to make sense. (He says this one shortly before Crowley saves Elsbeth from suicide, poverty and damnation.) 

"So this is all your demonic work? I should have known," Aziraphale says, thinking, "Aha, this time Crowley must have done the bad thing and therefore continues to deserve being Fallen." (Crowley has, in fact, not done the bad thing but shhhh, worry about that later.) 

Once you notice this self defensive habit, you can't unnotice it really, it's just so present in Aziraphale's logic and speech. Aziraphale even at one point says, "Still a demon, then?" after the Ark and Job and Jesus because on some level he probably doesn't want to actually evaluate, it makes no sense to him that Crowley is still a Demon, especially when he has also sinned in a few ways (lied to Gabriel, thwarted the will of God, technically gluttony etc) and nothing has happened to him, to say nothing for all the things Gabriel has done (or has just let passively happen without a thought to interfere).

So yes, I think the entire final argument plays out the way it does because Aziraphale thinks Crowley is good and deserves to be reinstated, to be forgiven by God more than anything. 

He comes into their final conversation nervous but excited, to the point where he stomps right over what Crowley is trying to say. "You see I... I have some incredible good news to give you." The good news is for Crowley, you see, because Crowley deserves this and clearly being forgiven like he so deserves should logically make Crowley happy. It will make Aziraphale happy after all. 

Aziraphale then starts to describe the conversation that he had with Metatron, stating that he thinks he might have misjudged him. And why would he think that he misjudged the angel who had told him point blank to his face that "The point is not to avoid the war, it is to win it" about the Apocalypse? Well, it's not because he's offered the job of Supreme Archangel, that's for sure. As we can see in the flashback, Aziraphale seems nervous and uninterested in the job at first. He says clearly that he doesn't want to go back to Heaven and even brings up a very half assed excuse to try and weasel out of it, a soft no of, "Where will I get my coffee?" 

No, instead, the clear, obvious point where Aziraphale changes his mind about the job and about the Metatron is when he offers to reinstate Crowley as an Angel. Metatron has, quite accidentally (I think? I don't think he actually knows Aziraphale's secret soul), just said one of the most faith affirming things he possibly could to Aziraphale, "We can correct that little error that's been bothering you. You are completely correct that Crowley deserves God's forgiveness." 

Given that, it's understandable that Aziraphale is absolutely bubbly about Crowley's reinstatement when he mentions it to him, like the best thing ever has just happened to him even though he's talking about something that will happen to Crowley and not him at all. "You could come back to heaven and- and everything. Like the old times, only even nicer." (Nicer because this time, they are in love. Nicer because they'll both be powerful enough to make a difference.)

Some other bits of Aziraphale's dialogue from this scene that make so much sense through this lens are:

After Crowley tries to reiterate his constant stance that both sides are bad actually, and mentions how he rejected Hell's offer to work with them again, Aziraphale misses his point completely and says, "But well, obviously you said no to Hell, you're the bad guys. But Heaven, it's the side of truth, of light, of good." Aziraphale's faith in the potential goodness of Heaven and the actual goodness of God is unflappable but so is his belief that good is what Crowley wants to be doing. Like of course a good soul like Crowley would reject working for Hell again but why would he reject a chance to do good like he's sneakily been doing all along? (Aziraphale here ignores the fact that he's also had to sneakily do good on the side sometimes even though he was always working for "the side of good" but that is very par for the course for him sadly.) 

The lines, "Come with me- to heaven. I'll run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference," are a particularly telling set.  Everything about these from the high position he's offering Crowley to the "We" scream that Aziraphale trusts Crowley, a Demon, to guide Heaven the correct way more than any angel already in Heaven.

Aziraphale's final, desperate argument also lines up well with this (as well as featuring Aziraphale more completely referencing how he wants him and Crowley to be together romantically). "Come back, to heaven. Work with me! We can be together. Angels... Doing good. I- I need you! I don't think you understand what I'm offering you." Like is the "I need you" here romantic? Definitely. But it's also Aziraphale again affirming that he trusts Crowley to lead him the correct way ie goodness, because, as it's been shown to us many times (and focused on particularly in this season), Crowley will do and always has been doing the correct thing as best he could while Aziraphale would dither and be locked into passivity (like in The Resurrectionists).

So yes, after many attempts to explain to Crowley how he should be in Heaven, doing good and Aziraphale needs his help and one last desperate kiss from Crowley, we reach the final dreaded, "l forgive you." And yes, maybe Aziraphale is forgiving Crowley for not having faith that they can fix heaven, for abandoning him, for kissing him so suddenly. But I hope, after everything I've laid out here in this essay, you can also see why I think Aziraphale is saying, "Even as you reject God's forgiveness and leave me behind, I still see that you are good and know you deserve it so I will forgive you anyway." And maybe, even though it's still blasphemous to disagree with God, it's less scary for Aziraphale to say "I forgive you" one more time than tell Crowley that he loves him for the first time. He is very good at forgiveness after all.

[blouisparadise]

Upon request, today we have a rec list of bottom Louis fics where either Louis or Harry has amnesia. If you enjoy our rec lists, please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) Finding Thoughts | Teen & Up | 6,810 words

"Hi, my name is Louis Tomlinson and I suffer from short term memory loss."

2) Our Love Was Made For Movie Screens. | Not Rated | 8,106 words

Harry wakes up and doesn't know anything about anything and Louis is his omega.

3) Cause I’m Really Not Fine At All | Mature | 13,679 words

Louis Tomlinson, one of the famous members of One Direction, is involved in a car accident that caused him to have amnesia, wiping all the last five years of his life from the memory. The interesting part is he may not remember that he has a girlfriend now, yet his mind seems to think that he has been in a relationship with one of the members, Harry Styles. Harry is baffled and shocked at the situation that's thrown in his face. He finds himself learning how to be a good boyfriend for Louis. It has to be easy.. right?

4) Indestructible | Explicit | 24,243 words

“Hi,” Harry murmurs, and Louis hiccups out a sob. “Hi,” he manages, still clutching onto Harry’s shoulders. Harry’s fingers drift across Louis’ cheeks, and there’s something off about Harry’s expression, but Louis can’t figure out what it is. “I’m okay,” Harry says, and Louis is going to say something to that, even if he doesn’t know what, except Harry’s kissing him. Louis freezes.

5) The Way This River Runs | Explicit | 27,417 words

Louis is provided a chance to start over. He takes it.

6) Deleted Scenes | Explicit | 33,623 words

Agent Harry Styles was injured on the job a few months back, and gets roped in one last mission before he can retire prematurely: playing house with Louis, a widower who has amnesia. The assignment seems simple at the beginning, but soon enough Harry's twisted in a web of his own making, and can't get out anymore.

7) Just A Pretty Boy | Explicit | 35,614 words

The alpha in front of him wasn’t only tall, but used every inch of his body to look even more threatening. He looked as shocked as Joseph felt, in his eyes he could clearly see horror and anger mixed into an odd and painful mix. It was as if he just watched a ghost or a monster from a nightmare come to life.  “Louis…” he said with a low voice. It wasn’t a question, he was calling Joseph by that name.  The crease between Joseph’s brows deepened. “Who?” Louis and Harry were married until, one day, Louis passed away in a tragic accident. Years later, he is found alive and with a thousand questions plaguing his mind. The most important ones; was his husband involved in his disappearance? And, how long did it take Harry and his best friend to fall in love after his supposed dead?

8) The Things I’d Do To Wake Up Next To You | Mature | 36,109 words

AU. Harry wakes up to a pregnant Louis Tomlinson and a wedding band on his finger.

9) Strangers In Love | Explicit | 42,207 words

Louis wakes up to find himself in a marriage with the last man he thought he'd ever end up with.

10) Define Me Again | Mature | 54,385 words

He's never felt so frightened in his life before, so fucking terrified for himself. And Louis. He looked down at their hands, which seemed to have been connected throughout the incident. He looked at the ring on Louis' hand, for the nth time that day. His heart hurt so bad now, he was terrified. He wanted to do so many things, he wanted to check on louis, if he- if he- God he couldn't even think about it. "Louis," he tried to whisper, but nothing but air came out from his mouth. "I love you, Harry," whispered a voice. But it was nowhere near him. Visions attacked his mind, rapidly flickering through like one would do the pages of a book. He was terrified. His entire life literally flashed in his mind, vision growing more and more weak and he fought unconsciousness. Memories and the picture of Louis lying unconscious in front of him altered and flickered, so rapidly that he felt dizzy with how fast his mind was whirring. What happens when you die? God he was so, so, so, fucking terrified. All his senses gave out, last thing he felt was Louis' hand in his and then, everything went black.

11) Flash Back To Me | Explicit | 73,068 words | Prequel

Louis narrows his eyes, wanting more than anything to tell Liam to go fuck himself, but he can’t be sure, is the thing. As much as he knows for a fact that he would never date someone like Harry Styles, he has months missing from his memory. And it’s scary to think that, in that time, everything he’s come to know about himself could have changed so drastically.

12) Consequences | Explicit | 78,556 words

Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up. Sometimes, he even thinks he has. It only takes one moment to freeze them back in time.

13) Invisible String | Explicit | 84,726 words

Louis swears on his life that that man came out of literal nowhere and he thanks each lucky star for having good breaks in his car. This strange alpha also happens to be the most beautiful being Louis has laid his eyes on. For some unknown reason, the omega feels safe around the alpha. It might seem strange, but you can't always explain why or how things are the way they are. All you can really be sure of is that they happen for a reason. There's a higher power (call it what you want) that knows better and definitely knows more than you do.

14) The Dead Of July | Explicit | 117,446 words

Harry is Captain America, and Louis’ been dead for 70 years.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[sanctuary1988]

~ The Walking Lady | 22 | Gwi

French: /the petals of love/

Pairing: Gwi x fem! noble! Reader

Summary: A heartless vampire falls in love for the first time in centuries of loneliness. Passion, secrets, betrayal and love drown the royal palace. Will your love for Gwi prevail through time or will it wither away like a fallen rose petal? Maybe love was his punishment, maybe love was your salvation. Or wasn't it a curse to you both? Because, who can beat a race against time? Who can love in the dark? Who can love without truth? After all, even the most beautiful flower will wither away and end in ashes of time, remembered only by the one who cherished her the most.

Warnings: ANGST, mixed emotions, love, hatred, threatening someone, mentions of abandonment, cruelty, guilt, Gwi missing his petal, Gwi writes poetry again!, general vampire stuff, betrayal, wounded love, historical! AU, royal! AU?, cannon copilant (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 3k words

A/N: Hi, darlings of mine! I know it's been a couple of months O.o but I wanted to give you this chapter as soon as possible as we are getting back on this third and final act of the story! I am so excited to share with you what I've had planned for over a year so, without entertaining you further, happy reading, dear 😌😁 .

Tagging: @my-day6 | @yumisventingmachine | @yukihatesreoyo | @anonymous2828 | @solivagant444 | @nitimurinvetitumsposts | @queenjang21 | @ib026 | @emneedshelp | @exo-shohei-perrie | @shylia 🙈❤️*let me know if you'd like to be tagged or if you want me to get you off my taglist!

Please let me know your thoughts in the comments! I'd love to hear from you, loves. Enjoy! 🫶🫶🫶

*A/N: There's a poem I wrote for this story that you'll find in this chapter, I do not allow for it to be used in any other media or to be reposted/translated.

“Who is she?”

The voice of a little girl reached your ears. You didn’t turn around, didn’t acknowledge her at all. You knew what they said about you. You knew the whispers and murmurs and stories behind your pain. So you just kept walking. You walked as if you had a destination in mind, as if someone was waiting for you at the end of your journey. 

“Don’t look, little one. She may curse you with her eyes.”

A witch, someone said. A heretic. A demon of heartbreak. The sun was hiding behind the clouds and as the little girl whimpered in confusion you stopped walking. The air in the marketplace shifted, you felt eyes on you, judging gazes like spines on your fingers. Your eyes met the ones of the child, she couldn’t have been older than four years old, so cute and innocent and pure. 

She made you remember a certain little girl you had held in your arms what seemed like a thousand lives ago. Your eyes softened, and you spoke with a voice that once had been filled with warmth and wisdom, now it was just empty. 

“You should obey your mother. Don’t look.”

The girl bit her lip and you turned away from her, continuing to walk the rustle of your skirts being the only sound in the suddenly silent marketplace. They all watched you like a spectacle. Some with pity, others with disgust and even fewer with lament. 

“They said she used to be an important Lady of the house of Lee.”

“I heard she escaped her home.”

“Didn’t her husband die?”

The whispers followed you like shadows. Wherever your feet carried you they always were behind you. Your heart felt heavy in the cradle of your ribs, your eyes dry after crying too much. You kept walking. In emptiness, in loneliness, in heartbreak. 

The silence of the clouds was louder than the drumming from his heart. Walking and walking through the underground palace’s empty corridors, the vampire tasted his own loneliness. He could hear echoes of a long lost laugh, still smell the faded perfume that once lulled him into dreamless sleep and yet, it was now the cause of his most horrible nightmares. 

Months had passed. Months of an aching illness that ate his heart in the silence of his solitude. 

The flowers were dead. The moon now killed him just as the sun. And his heart, cold and poisonous, secretly missed the warmth it had once held in the cage of his ribs. The blood he tasted was bitter, the tea he drank was acrid. He missed her. He missed you. But loving someone came with the price of pain. 

Gwi grew the bitterness of your betrayal in his heart like poisonous ivy around the cradle of his love. 

“You cannot forgive, vampire. You kill, you destroy. You. Do. Not. Forgive.”

The words Minister Kim had once uttered to him in hatred came back to him like lightning in a dark sky. They weighed him down. It weighed because they were true. He could not forget. He could not forgive. But he could love. Yet that once pure love was tainted with the ink of your lies, with the stain of your betrayal. 

“My Lord, His Majesty asks for an audience with you,”

The voice of a guard brought him back from his dark thoughts. His crimson eyes fixed on the trembling man as his words fell into his ears like a pebble in still water. Disrupting the quiet madness within him. 

Gwi didn’t speak right away. His crimson gaze lingered on the flickering torchlight that danced along the cold stone walls—walls that once echoed with her voice, with the quiet rhythm of her breath as she slept. Now only shadows clung to him. Shadows and silence. 

He sat down on his throne of stone, his silk robes pooling around him like spilled ink on parchment. His beauty ethereal, marred with the dancing touches of the delicate flames from candles around him. 

“Bring him in.”

He said at last. His voice deep like velvet on steel, deadly yet beautiful. The guard spurred on, and later the king arrived. Dressed in his red silk and gold jewelry, his youthful face was composed with fragile serenity yet a tremor betrayed him – a single twitch in the corner of his mouth as he faced the vampire in all his eternal glory. 

“Your Majesty,”

Gwi drawled with a slow, mocking tilt of his head, every syllable dipped in irony. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure? Have your royal nights grown lonely without my shadow beside your throne?”

King Wang Hyu lowered his head in respect and fear. His voice was smooth as he spoke, hiding the trembling words of his unease beneath the gauze of formality. 

“My lord… the kingdom suffers.”

The vampire sighed, bored at the conversation but amused at the king who now served him when the prince he once was, wanted to destroy him. He stood up, descending the steps that led to his grey throne and began pacing, the whisper of his robes against the ground was deafening in the silence of the room. His hands were clasped behind his back, his chin tilted in the air as he spoke in that soft thunderous voice of his. 

“The kingdom has always suffered. That is its nature. Your father died while it suffered and you’ll live only to see its tears.”

The king glanced up, daring to look at the seemingly tranquil vampire who walked in front of him. 

“But this time it is not war, or bandits, or treason. It is the land itself that cries.”

Gwi stopped, mid-stride. Slowly, he turned his head, those eyes—those ancient, bottomless eyes—fixing the young monarch with a look that hollowed him out from the inside.

“The land?”

Came his voice in a baritone murmur. 

“You come here to speak to me of dirt and crops while the blood of your ancestors still clings to the blade I used to crown you?”

Wang Hyu stiffened, his heart skipping a beat in a spark of terror. 

“My lord, the rice fields rot. A plague devours the roots before the harvest. The farmers say the sky has turned its face from us. That the gods are angry. If famine comes, rebellion follows.”

A subtle frown settled in the vampire’s brows, his eyes darkened with annoyance, with frustration, with emotions so complex he couldn’t even tell them apart anymore. He moved again, this time slower, a predator circling his prey more out of habit than hunger. 

“And what do you want me to do, boy king? Do you think I can conjure rain from the heavens? Speak to clouds as you speak to frightened nobles?”

Wang Hyu frowned at Gwi’s mockery. His fists clenched beneath his long sleeves. 

“I came for aid, not ridicule.”

The kind spoke, his voice sharper now; cracking through the formality like ice beneath a heel. 

“The people suffer! And if you still call this land your kingdom, then perhaps you should act like its ruler and not a ghost hiding in stone!”

The words hung in the chamber like a blade suspended in the air. Gwi’s steps halted. His dark eyes painting crimson, the torches fled as if they could sense the growing tension in the room. He turned slowly, like a god pausing to look down at a speck of dust that had dared to speak.

It took him a second, a blink, a heartbeat before he stood in front of the young monarch, his hand clamped around Wang Hyu’s throat in a choking grip, his feet leaving the ground as he was lifted from the cold, dead ground of the magnificent underground palace. 

“You dare raise your voice at me?”

The vampire whispered. His voice soft yet dark and deep. It made a shiver run down the king’s spine. 

“You dare speak of this kingdom as if it were yours to mourn?”

He leaned in close, fangs inches from the king’s cheek, his breath colder than death itself.

“I made you king.”

Gwi hissed. 

 “I painted the walls with your father’s blood and handed you his throne still warm from the corpse. Do not mistake my amusement for weakness.”

The king’s mouth opened, trying to gulp down air that didn’t reach his lungs. His hands clawed at the vampire’s wrist, his eyes filling with tears. 

“You are mine.”

Gwi said, voice deeper now, his rage a quiet storm beneath the surface.

“A crown of gold atop a skull of clay. And should you forget your place, I will crush you like I did the man who sired you.”

His grip on the young man loosened as if burned, Wang Hyu dropped to the ground, gasping and coughing and wheezing for air, ignored by Gwi in disgust of his mortal soul. 

“I serve you… but I will not watch Joseon die under your shadow.”

Gwi stared down at him, expression unreadable—then slowly turned, his voice echoing through the chamber like thunder behind velvet. 

“Then breed a son, little king.”

His tone was ice. 

“Or I will choose one for you. The throne needs only a body and a heartbeat. And if not yours, I can make any bastard prince kneel to me with a whisper.”

Those words shattered what was left of the king’s pride like a mirror falling on stone. It was final, the shards poisonous. The reflection bewitched in blood. 

Wang Hyu stood up, his left hand cradling his now bruised throat and spoke in a hoarse voice, a gentle deathly whisper that made the vampire narrow his eyes at him. 

“You call me a puppet… but you forget puppets are also made of needles.”

Gwi smirked, sitting down on his stone throne once more, his robes falling at his feet like dead petals. The candles sharpened his features and his eyes blazed crimson like two suns in the darkest night. 

“Oh, prince, let us hope you don’t try to use it. I’d hate to have to bathe this palace in your blood again. It stains the stone in ways even time cannot erase.”

It was the mockery, the irony, the playfulness in the dark words that made the king’s stomach churn. He felt degraded, used and discarded but not yet dead. Not completely at least. 

With a gesture of his hand, the vampire dismissed the king from his shadowy presence. 

“Go, play your kingly games. Feed your starving people, give them hope for rain when it’s sunny. Leave me alone.”

Wang Hyu bowed low, not because he feared the monster staring him down but because he did not have enough strength to stand upright. His steps faded into the darkness until only the whisper of silence remained in the throne room. The flickering flames danced in their harmonious, dangerous way he once enjoyed and only the faint smell of roses reached him. So faint he could have imagined it. 

Ink told stories. Of soldiers, of kingdoms, of wars and hopes. It once told his story. Now it told of his heartbreak. 

My heart aches in a way I can’t describe. 

The silence is heavy and loud. 

The faint smell of your perfume got lost in time. 

This love is now tainted in lies. 

I used to worship every breath you took. 

Now I hate even the thought of you. 

I hate you so much that I cannot stop seeing you in dreams and whatnot. 

I hate that your name is still whispered in my soul. 

I used to love roses, now I feel only disgust. 

But did you not also love the night? When it once scared you the most?

I used to love you, I used to want you. 

Is it wrong for me to hate you but still desire you?

Like stained glass you shattered my trust. 

But, petal, did you not also kiss my tears? 

I once held you with burning lust. 

Yet you broke what was to me most dear. 

Poisonous flower. 

May this rain wash away your sins. 

And perhaps I’d forgive you in your next rebirth. 

When you are not roses but lilies in the wind.

The parchment crumbled as he fisted it, the ink staining his fingers in dark shadows as he dropped the brush and tossed the secrets of his heart into the fire. The flames consumed it with hunger in its dance, and he watched it burn until nothing remained but ash. 

The candle extinguished and thunder flared in the distance. Gwi could hear the distant sound of rain hitting the stone above his underground palace. 

It was heavy. This empty feeling of loneliness that weighed his heart down. These shadowed nightmares that chased him in those scarce moments he did sleep. It was heavy to carry with a heart that had once been so full but now it was filled not with light love but with heavy bitterness. 

He stood up, eyes staring up at the once beautiful cherry blossom tree that was in what used to be your room. He spent days there, sometimes weeks. Just existing in the remaining scent of flowers long dead. 

The branches were empty of those rose petals, the wood had darkened and he had thought more times than once that maybe he’d have to have it removed. The tree was dead, the flowers had crumbled. The petals had blackened. And his heart had been emptied by his own hand. 

A deep sigh escaped his lips, a tremor trailing down his spine. His silken robes felt wrong as they hugged his figure. He might have turned cold to the world, cruel to the kingdom. More bloodthirsty in his desire of power and it all had changed the moment you left his side. 

The moment he casted you out. 

Gwi turned around, leaving the large bedroom. Night had fallen earlier that day, the sky was dark and the horizon rumbled with thunder and rain. He arrived at the throne room, that empty space that had once been filled with the sweet aroma of fresh honeyed tea. His jaw tightened, this place, this palace, this kingdom, this life was plagued with thoughts of you. Of your scent, your smile, your eyes he had fallen in love with. That smile that made his ego crumble like parchment on flames. That voice that called him from a darkness too deep to ignore. 

It had all been you. 

It had all been your love. 

The vampire lord left his underground palace that night. The rain soaked his robes, heavy silk dragging against the earth with every step, the hem darkening with water and mud. his dark hair was protected by a gat that stopped the water from getting into his eyes. He walked, away from his underground domain, away from the royal palace that used to be his hunting terrain. It was now a prison of thorns. 

He walked as if the rain were meant to cleanse him. As if each drop could peel away the layers of blood, sorrow, and betrayal that clung to him like a second skin. Each step echoed, slow and solemn, splashing through shallow puddles that shimmered like silver pools under fleeting moonlight. The water mirrored the past: of laughter once shared, of a small warm hand once nestled in his, of whispered promises exchanged beneath the very sky that now wept for them. Joseon slept restlessly under the thunder’s lullaby, and none dared peer out of their windows to watch the stranger cloaked in black pass by.

The vampire lord did not seek shelter. He did not need it. What protection could there be from what already lived inside him? The night no longer offered comfort. It was no longer his ally. But neither was he afraid of it. They were equals now—old, worn, and aching with secrets.

His hands, usually pale and elegant, were clenched at his sides, the knuckles straining. The ink that had stained his fingers was long gone—but its phantom still clung to his skin, just like your memory clung to his soul. He could not wash it off. 

A single lantern –a candle embraced in glass– hung in the main street. The light was blurred by the rain yet it stood silent through the storm. Gwi walked toward it on instinct, the light reflecting in his eyes. A cross from him, a figure emerged from the shadows. 

Puffed skirts and gentle steps was what he saw. A soft rhythm of the woman that encountered him in the crossroads. Her head was down, eyes cast at the puddles at her feet. The rain didn’t seem to bother her, or maybe she didn’t even feel it. She didn’t flinch as thunder rumbled in the sky and lightning made him notice her wet strands of (h/c) hair plastered to her face. 

She passed by him. Her shoulder brushed his slightly.

No flinch. No gasp. No recognition.

As if he didn’t exist.

His eyes followed her and the vampire thought that she was an illusion, a dream his mind was creating to torment him further. 

The wind picked up, water rain hit his porcelain skin and the sniff of a scent he often imagined in his dreams reached him like a lost treasure found after centuries. 

Roses. 

Roses and tea. 

Roses and love. 

The scent of crushed petals, of morning tea left unfinished on a cold tray, of laughter in hidden chambers. Roses, and something softer—vanilla, perhaps. Or memory.

A ghost of a perfume that had haunted him for longer than it should. 

He staggered a step forward, as if wanting to reach her and lightning cracked the dark sky once more, illuminating a hairpin with a crimson flower on it tangled in her hair. 

The word escaped his lips before he could stop himself. It was almost instinctive. His voice soft with wonder and yearning and love. A love he had tried to deny it still existed. A love he thought was only ashes. A love that killed him in its absence. 

“Petal?”

June/14/2025

A/N: Thoughts? O.O

My inbox is open, darlings! Or feel free to leave a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts and inputs for the story! Take care, everyone 🫶

~ Masterpost

[itsjuststardust]

Heaven in Hiding - Chapter 32: What Do We Say?

Heaven in Hiding Masterlist

Chapter Summary: All that's left to read is the manuscript.

Word Count: 16,571

Author's Note/Chapter Warnings: This chapter is going to be a little different, but I hope you enjoy it. I struggled to find a way to incorporate Alaina's parents' story into this story, and when I arrived at the diary decision, this seemed like the natural conclusion. This chapter may be a little slow. Chapter warnings would entail descriptions of having difficulty conceiving, along with some bittersweet angst, but there is also fluff. The contents of this chapter have been plotted since the beginning, but have taken many different shapes as Heaven In Hiding has unfolded over the last year. I think I could rewrite it a hundred more times and not be happy with it, but… I decided to follow my invisible string. 🩶 🎵Chapter Soundtrack🎵- “The Manuscript” - Taylor Swift MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY

Chapter 32: What Do We Say?

“Alaina, your father was a Mandalorian.”

Alaina felt her world slowly turn on its axis, leaving her speechless.

There was no way.

There was no way her mother would have kept her in the dark about something like that.

Although she hadn’t mentioned she’d been training as a Jedi either.

“Why wouldn’t she tell me something like that?” Alaina asked, rereading the last few words of the first entry repeatedly, looking for any sign that this was some kind of joke, but found none.

“I don’t know,” Din answered, letting out a long sigh. “I hadn’t gotten very far in before you showed up at our moon.”

So many things she’d been kept in the dark about… but why? Why had her mother never told her she’d been trained as a Jedi? Why did she never speak about her father? Why had she never told Alaina that her father had been a karking Mandalorian?

“So… does that… does that mean that I’m a Mandalorian?” she asked, turning around to give him a questioning, skeptical look.

He brushed her hair back over her shoulder so he could see her face. “Mandalorian isn’t a race,” he said quietly. “It’s a Creed.”

Alaina’s forehead drew in concentration while she contemplated his words. “So… no,” she nodded, flicking her eyes back to his helmet. “Right?”

“Yes and no,” he said, making Alaina frown at his answer. “You weren’t raised in The Way, you haven’t taken the Creed, so, no,” he finished, sounding slightly unsure of his answer. 

“But,” she prodded him, feeling like there was more he wasn’t telling her.

“But…” he started and then sighed. “But your family’s lineage can be traced to Mandalore directly. Back thousands of years. So, in that way, you’re actually more Mandalorian than I am.”

Alaina blinked at him while she processed his words. That was… 

The snort left her before she could stop herself. “This is some kind of joke,” she finally got out before dissolving into a mad fit of laughter. 

When Din shook his head at her outburst, it only made her laugh harder. 

“C-Come on!” she wheezed. “How much did it hurt you to tell a former ballerina that they were more of a Mandalorian than you were?” she managed to get out before she lost the battle and fell into another fit of cackles. “Din, I hadn’t even heard the word Mandalorian until another dancer barged into my dressing room to warn me one was looking for me!” she wheezed again. Alaina couldn’t restrain another snort at the stoic helmet staring back at her.

Oh, Maker, she thought, wiping the tears from her eyes. This was too much.

“Alaina,” Din sighed again, and she nodded, trying to control her hysterical laughter.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she apologized, shaking her head again, and wiped the final tears from her eyes. “But you have to admit that sounds pretty ludicrous.”

“Doesn’t make it less true,” he countered quietly.

Alaina frowned when she realized that Din had never once laughed with her. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend—”

“You didn’t,” he stopped her as he set down the diary they had just read the first entry of.

“Wait,” Alaina stopped to reach for the book, but his hand reached out to stop her. “But… we just started,” she pointed out, turning to look back at his helmet again.

“There’s more.”

Alaina pursed her lips as her eyes rolled around, trying to figure out what he was getting at. “Right…” she settled on slowly. “Which is why we should keep reading,” she pouted.

“There’s more,” Din repeated, and if Alaina didn’t know him any better, she would have called him nervous.

“More?” she asked, and Din nodded. “Well, I’m not sure how you’re gonna top the fact that my dad was a Mandalorian, and that I might actually be more Mandalorian than you are, but…” She let her words fade off as she motioned for him to have the floor.

Din seemed frozen while he studied her, and even from a distance, she could already see her breath fogging up his helmet, indicating that the temperature was already dropping inside the hold. Finally, after several long, drawn-out seconds, he nodded and shifted to move from behind her. Alaina grimaced at the shift in their position and probably squeezed Grogu a little too tightly as she fought through the pain, judging by the kid’s muted croak.

“Sorry,” Alaina apologized, kissing the top of his wrinkled head before she tried to make herself comfortable in the space Din just vacated. Strong hands came under her armpits, and both she and the kid squeaked when Din pulled her the rest of the way up so she could sit with her back propped up against the wall.

She watched him, trying not to ogle how tight the black shirt was against his broad shoulders, but she couldn’t help herself. What else was she supposed to look at besides how his back muscles pulled taut as he knelt by the bed, fishing for something under it? As Din’s back straightened, something came from under the bed.

A trunk.

A trunk that wasn’t her trunk—wasn’t her mother’s trunk.

“There were two trunks.”

Alaina leaned forward to get a better view of the mystery trunk in the dim lighting of the hold. It was made of black leather like the one she was already familiar with, but it was clearly newer. Hadn’t been carried around by her mother since she left Naboo to go to “boarding school”. Or, as Alaina learned in her adult life, that boarding school was code for Jedi school. This trunk hadn’t been lugged around from place to place for her mother’s entire life. This trunk only showed up when she was five, and her mother felt the need to hide it from her at her neighbors.

“Where was this trunk before?” she asked curiously. Din’s helmet looked up from the trunk and tilted slightly at her question. “You said that Soola told you I was five when my mom asked her to keep it… I know I was young, but I don’t ever remember there being two black trunks in our house.”

“I don’t know, Tranyc,” he replied, returning his attention to the trunk and opening it.

Alaina wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but a grey, wool, folded fabric was not it.

Din placed the item beside the trunk reverently, piquing her curiosity, but his attention returned to the trunk to pull out… another blanket. Alaina blinked as he tossed the black fur blanket on the bed, and she instantly noticed the temperature difference now that it covered her feet—er, foot. She was so focused on the black fur blanket that she hadn’t realized Din was standing until something blue obstructed her view.

She squinted until her eyes adjusted in the dim lighting, but the moment they focused, she lost her breath as she gaped at the dusty blue helmet before her.

“This was his?” she asked, turning her wide eyes up at his helmet. Din nodded and pushed the helmet closer, indicating that she should take it.

Cautiously, she reached out for the helmet, slowly taking it from Din until she could hold its weight on her own. Alaina was speechless as she examined a piece of her history. Grogu cooed and pointed at the helmet from her lap.

“There’s more.”

“There’s more?” Alaina asked, raising her eyebrows in disbelief. “How?”

Din shifted nervously on his feet beside the trunk. “The complete set is in there,” he began, nodding at the trunk. “The complete set, except for one pauldron.” He turned from the trunk, and Alaina frowned as he walked to the crates that had been pushed out of the way to make room for the bed. He took a duffle bag out of one and carried it back to the bed.

“Din, if you’re about to tell me that my mom was also a Mandalorian—”

Din chuckled and shook his helmet. “She wasn’t. This is my old set,” he explained, stopping to grab the shoulder pauldron from his new set before he returned to her side and sat on the bed beside her. Din looked at the shiny silver pauldron in his hand for a moment and then passed it to her. “Pauldrons can be unique,” he told her, pausing to allow her to examine the piece of his armor.

Alaina placed her father’s helmet on the bed beside her left hip when she noticed a pattern she didn’t remember being there. Her index finger ghosted over the metalwork, unfamiliar with the horned beast. However, the delicate, fanged snake wrapped around its horn... She stopped her inspection to give Din a questioning look.

“It’s new,” he confirmed with a nod. “After—” he started and then stopped to sigh. “IG managed to pull me into the sewers right before the explosion,” he revealed.

“Din—”

He shook his head. “There had been a fight after I first rescued you and the kid from Nevarro,” he began. “When the Mandalorians came to our aid to help us escape, they exposed themselves, and I lost many of my tribe.”

“Din,” she shook her head, “I had no idea. I—”

He reached out to stroke the back of his fingers across her cheek. “I had no idea either. What’s done is done, but I found the Armorer there. She said I had earned my signet,” he murmured, taking the pauldron back from her to look at. “A mudhorn for the kid, and a fanned rawl,” he finished, turning his helmet to stare at her, the unspoken for you was left hanging in the air. “This,” he stopped to hold the pauldron up, “is the signet for my clan.”

Alaina pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and nodded at him. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered, reaching out to squeeze his bicep. “It’s perfect,” she amended, trying to hold the tears back.

“I wasn’t born into a Mandalorian family, and I never let my sponsor officially adopt me. So, I never had a clan signet. I had to earn it, just like every other clan before me. It was an honor to earn one…” he tapered off, and his helmet looked back at her. “I-I wanted you there with me,” he whispered, and Alaina’s heart broke to hear the crack in his voice.

Alaina lunged forward and wrapped her arms tightly around Din’s neck. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. She wouldn’t call it a sob, but more of a choked sound covered by the static from his helmet, but it was enough to make her break. Her face contorted in grief, but she didn’t dare make a sound. This moment wasn’t about her. It was about him. It was about the man who had given everything for her. Her reason for fighting to get back to her family. The man she loved. “I’m sorry. I’m here now.”

Din’s arms wrapped around her waist as his helmet dropped to her shoulder while he clung to her, and Alaina felt out of her element, but in a good way.. It was always her doing the breaking down, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from supporting him in his time of need. He’d never allowed himself to break like this. He’d never allowed himself to be vulnerable quite like this. He’d never allowed her the one to pick up his pieces.

After all, that’s what partners are for.

Even if one partner were a solid mass of muscle and leaning awkwardly on her leg, she’d suffer through the pain if it meant relieving his.

Grogu grunted as he squirmed out of where he had been crushed between them, and his ears lowered when he saw Din’s shoulders shudder as he attempted to restrain his grief.

It’s okay, little one, she thought, hoping Grogu would see the sympathy in her face, but the kid’s ears perked up at her, almost as if he’d heard her. Alaina cocked her head in surprise, but Din’s arms tightening around her waist brought her back to the present. There would be time for that later. For now…

“Do you trust me?” she whispered, stroking his back with her fingers. His helmet nodded into her shoulder in answer. “Okay, then, I need you to get up for just a sec,” she grimaced.

He jolted when he realized he was leaning against her bad leg. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, standing sheepishly.

“Don’t apologize,” she corrected him. Alaina took a moment to pull the blankets back, looking at him and not at her legs. “Come on,” she told him, patting the empty space between her legs. Din’s helmet cocked making her smile. “Come on, you always get to be the big spoon,” she teased, patting the mattress again.

Din shook his helmet, but didn’t argue as he knelt onto the mattress, taking extra care to avoid the leg. Slowly, he made himself comfortable on his stomach, with his helmet resting on hers.

“Grogu is going to go under the covers and not look,” she said, directing her statement to Grogu, and held the covers up until the kid squirmed his way under them. Once he was tucked away from view, she ensured they were all covered with the blankets before grabbing her mother’s diary. “And I’m going to close my eyes so you can take your helmet off.”

She closed her eyes, waiting for him to think through his options, but there wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation before she felt him remove his helmet, the beskar knocking against her father’s. Maker, that wasn’t going to get easy to say. Alaina smiled when she felt his face press into her stomach, and she brought her fingers up to card through his hair.

“Better?” she whispered. His hair slid through his fingers as he nodded. “Good,” she smiled, placed the diary on top of his head, and opened it. The perfect obstruction, she thought with a smile. “I think it’s my turn to read to you, and when you’re ready to go back to what you wanted to talk about, stop me.”

Din nodded again as she went back to where they left off.

Alaina picked up with the second entry.

Her mother was the primary writer, but her father frequently jotted down his own notes in the margins or free spaces on the pages, correcting Ana’s version of events. Sometimes, her mother argued with him, and sometimes, she let it go.

It was like reading a love story. She had no idea of any of this. The day after her father allowed her to take the quarry over him, her mother ran into her father at the space port. In the most literal way possible. Her mother had been so focused on her options for getting to wherever the winds would take her next that she smacked directly into Rav. The rest was history.

While her mother still referred to the man who would end up being her father as Buckethead, it seemed rather serendipitous that they bumped into one another again. It was supposed to start as her mother bumming a ride to the next stop, but one ride turned into two, and they never separated again.

Three months later, her father proposed.

Her mother turned him down, told him he was crazy, that they hardly knew each other. But her father, Rav, didn’t give in.

While Rav had suspicions about Ana being a Jedi, it took her months to confide in him about her past—The shame and heartbreak she felt when she was ostracized from the Jedi Grand Temple. She told him how the others she had looked up to and trained with, how her friends had all shunned her, and how they had called her a snake for attempting to upset the balance with her information. All she wanted to do was warn them, but instead of listening to her warning, they took it as an attack. They turned everyone against her, forcing her to leave in disgrace. 

With nowhere else to go, she returned home, hoping for the opportunity to lick her wounds in private while she worked on figuring out what her next steps would be. Only her parents disowned her and cut her off from the family fortune when she told them what had happened to her. They turned their backs on their only daughter and sent her on her way with a handful of credits that wouldn’t last her a month.

Alaina’s heart ached for all of the pain her mother had gone through at such a young age. Her mother had never gone into the details about either side of her family; she’d simply told Alaina that it was just the two of them, and Alaina believed her. There may have been only two of them, but it was enough. Her mother filled her life with so much joy, laughter, and love that she never thought she was missing out on anything with their small family.

Grogu drifted in and out of sleep while she read aloud, but respected Din’s privacy and never came out from under the covers. Din rested on his stomach between her legs, using her as a pillow. Both boys listened to her read months of entries without interrupting.

Hours passed as Alaina read entries spanning the first year from he mother’s missing diary.

In those months, her father never gave up on Ana. Even when his brother, Kresh, warned him about becoming involved with an outsider. Even when Ana turned him down two more times. Even when his brother told him that he was no longer welcome on Concordia, after Rav dropped the bomb that Ana had been trained as a Jedi.

“Why didn’t the Mandalorians like the Jedi?” Alaina asked as she carded her fingers through Din’s head. She’d attempted to stop earlier, but the man pushed his head back into her hand like a cat begging for more attention.

His sleepy hum tickled as it vibrated through the sweater and shirt. Din’s head shifted to the side, and Alaina carefully used the open diary to keep his face blocked from view. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “It was something that was never taught to me. I’m not sure I could have even told you what a Jedi was before I met you and the kid. I’d only heard whispers of them.”

Alaina nodded as she processed what she’d read. “Concordia… Why does that sound familiar?”

“That’s where I was raised,” he whispered.

Alaina smiled at his answer and massaged her fingers firmly into his scalp as an answer. “What was it like?” she asked. “Growing up as a Mandalorian?”

She tried to imagine how different her life would be—to be raised as a warrior like Din instead of a ballerina. It was too unbelievable for her to even imagine.

“Alaina?” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her stomach. “Can you close your eyes?”

Alaina did as instructed and leaned back against the wall with her eyes closed. Din grabbed the diary from her, placing it off to the side somewhere for later. She could feel him shift and shuffle around on the bed as he got up. His lips pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, making her smile, and then she felt the familiar cool beskar of his helmet gently press into her forehead. When she opened her eyes, she was greeted with his visor's black, transparisteel T, and she pressed a kiss to the center of it.

“I love you,” she murmured with an easy smile.

“Kar’taylir darasuum,” he murmured back before shifting off the bed completely.

Alaina watched him place his silver pauldron with their signet back with the rest of his armor, then returned to the secret trunk that had been storing her father’s armor for all these years. He grabbed a dusty blue pauldron from inside and returned to sit beside her with his feet on the floor.

“I was brought back to Concordia after the Mandalorians rescued me,” he began, his head still directed at the blue pauldron in his hand. Alaina leaned forward to rest a comforting hand on his arm, but he nodded that he was okay. “The man who was the one who saved me didn’t end up being my sponsor,” Din continued. “He had an older brother on Concordia who ended up being the one to sponsor me. I primarily grew up with him and his son.”

“Why didn’t you let your sponsor adopt you?” Alaina asked curiously.

Din shrugged. “I was a little older for a foundling. Not the oldest, but old enough. It never seemed right. I felt that if I did that, I would somehow be disrespecting my parents and their sacrifice.”

Her face softened at his answer, and she rubbed his arm. “I think they would have been happy to know that you weren’t on your own, and that you had someone looking out for you.”

“Honestly, I probably would have if it had been the one that found me instead of his brother. Not that his brother wasn’t a good sponsor…”

“He just wasn’t the one who resonated with you,” Alaina finished for him.

Din’s chest inflated, and he nodded. “Looking back on it, with everything that’s happened…” he started again, but faded off as he tried to find the words. “It’s almost like I was always meant to find you,” he whispered. Alaina couldn’t help but beam at his words. “Alaina, I think your… invisible string analogy was maybe more right than either of us realized.

She smiled softly at his statement and asked, “How do you mean?”

Din handed her the blue pauldron and pulled the duffel bag containing his old armor closer to him so he could dig through its contents. “The Mandalorian who found me gave me two things the last time I saw him,” he started again, still searching through the duffel bag. “A blaster—”

“The one you gave me,” she recalled with a smile.

Din nodded. “And a pauldron,” he finished, pulling the object in question out of the bag for her to see.

Alaina tilted her head at the blue piece of shoulder armor. Din offered for her to take the piece, and she accepted it. Now, she had her father’s in her left and Din’s in her right for her to compare. “They look the same,” she commented.

“That’s because they are.”

Alaina’s eyes snapped to his helmet at his answer.

“Alaina, your father was the Mandalorian who saved my life on Aq Vetina.”

The hold went deathly silent. Even the sound of her own breath was too loud. She felt frozen—couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The only thing Alaina could do was stare at him in disbelief.

“The kid and I went through both trunks before…” Before they were going to bury them. “I couldn’t believe what I saw,” he continued, shaking his head. “It was unbelievable—A Mandalorian,” he scoffed. “And then when I started trying to find your father’s signet, I could only find the right pauldron, and it was a match for the left pauldron he gave me all those years ago.”

Alaina’s brain felt slow and sluggish, as if Din had poured tar inside and the cogs in the machine ground to a halt as she struggled to wrap her head around the newest revelation.

“Raivi, or Rav, was the Mandalorian who found me. His brother Kresh was the Mandalorian who sponsored me.” Alaina’s head drifted to the diary, lying on her other side, beside her father’s helmet. The names were all in there, but… “Raivi and Kresh Vizsla.”

She snapped her head back to Din at the sound of the last name. “I’ve heard that name before…” she muttered, and could feel her face drawing together as Din’s helmet cocked at her. “My mom sometimes said it under her breath when I was young. I just thought it was a Naboo-specific curse,” she finished quietly, handing Din’s pauldron back to him. “You knew my father?” she asked, unable to believe it. Alaina shook her head. “No, that’s…”

“Impossible?” he offered, and she nodded her head. “Alaina, look back on everything… Remember when we all got stuck inside your mind?” he started excitedly, and all Alaina could do was nod dumbly. “Your… sister, for lack of a better word, kept talking about the foundation.”

“That the foundation survived,” she said, still nodding slowly, but still not understanding.

“Right, and the foundation was constructed by four pillars… Your mother saved Grogu, your father saved me… We’re your pillars, Alaina,” he whispered, gripping her hand. “We’ve been connected all of this time…”

Alaina stared numbly, unable to process everything she’d been told. “Did… did we ever meet? I mean before?”

Din shook his head. “But,” he stopped to chuckle, “I guess you could say I knew your mother was pregnant before she did.”

Alaina’s mouth dropped open. “Okay, now you are just making things up,” she accused.

Din’s quiet chuckle rumbled through the Crest. The sound brought Grogu out from under the covers, and he looked between the two adults as if he might be missing out on something. 

“The last time I ever saw Rav was on Concorida. He and Kresh had gone out on some secret mission, and when they returned, there were rumors that one had lost their helmet. I was in the fighting corps, sparring with Paz… your cousin, I suppose, and we overheard people talking. We rushed to the infirmary, and Kresh was fine, but Rav was the one who was injured and had lost his helmet. We didn’t realize that there was someone else with them. An outsider. Rav’s wife.”

“You’ve met my mother, too?” Alaina asked, feeling as if all of the breath had left her.

“No,” he answered, and Alaina wasn’t sure if that made her feel better or not. “In the same building as her, but we never formally met. Paz and I were kept away from the outsider. Hell, I didn’t even know Rav was married until that day. I can still remember him laughing when he learned his wife was pregnant. I thought he was gonna pass out,” Din snickered. “That’s the day he gave me his blaster and pauldron,” he continued, sobering slightly. “I think they stayed with Kresh for a bit, but we were forced to stay with the fighting corps. They were gone the next time Paz and I were allowed back home.”

“You knew my father,” Alaina said, sounding like a broken droid, but she couldn’t wrap her mind around it.

“I’m sorry you never got to know him,” Din whispered, running his thumb over her knuckles.

“What was he like?” Alaina asked, wide-eyed.

“Patient,” Din nodded. “Bull-headed,” he chuffed, and Alaina smirked, remembering her mother used to tell her she’d inherited her bull-headed nature from her father. “He couldn’t let anything go,” Din said, shaking his helmet. “Case in point,” he paused to point to himself. “He was a good man.”

A tear leaked down her cheek, surprising her. “I don’t know what to say,” she whispered, wiping the tear away.

“Do you want me to read to you some more?”

Alaina nodded.

Din grabbed the kid and made himself comfortable beside Alaina. “How’s your leg? Want to take some of the weight off?” 

Alaina nodded again because it seemed that was all she was capable of.

He propped himself up with his back against the wall, put one pillow over his legs and another by his hips, and helped Alaina shift and roll into position with her leg resting over his.

The kid grunted as he searched for his metal gear ball that had gotten lost inside the blankets. Din teasingly knocked his foot into Grogu’s bottom, making the kid fall on the bed, earning Din an angry sputtering noise.

“Ready?” Din asked, lazily drawing patterns on Alaina’s back, waiting to continue until she nodded.

"He’s an idiot. An absolute, karking idiot.

But I love him.

Listening to him rant and rave about a family he doesn’t know… I love him so much that I think I just might marry him.

Maker, help me.

I made the mistake of sending a letter to my parents… I thought that having a year or so to cool off would open up some lines of communication, but I was wrong. That doesn’t surprise me. My parents are very proud, well-to-do people. They don’t want to be reminded of my failure.

What did surprise me was Rav’s hour-long rant after I read their response.

Now, he’s on some tangent about forcing his brother to get to know me. You’d think the galaxy would end if the three of us can’t find a way to get along.

Ana sighed and placed her pen in her diary to hold her spot. Then, she turned to look across the cockpit to end Rav’s angry monologue about his brother.

“Why is this so important to you all of a sudden?” she asked, lifting a quizzical eyebrow at the Mandalorian in the dusty blue set of armor piloting the ship beside her.

Rav turned to cock his helmet at her, making Ana smile. That was his patented ‘And who is the idiot now?’ look. “Because he’s family,” he answered as if it were the most obvious answer in the galaxy. “He’s family, and I don’t want him thinking—”

“Rav,” Ana sighed, “I don’t care what your brother thinks about me.”

Rav reached the short distance to her chair and grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers. “Try as you might to act like it doesn’t bother you that your family has outcast you. I know it hurts you,” he murmured, squeezing her hand tighter when she sighed and tried to pull it out of his grasp. “Iliana Corra,” he stopped her with that low murmuring voice that never failed to light a fire inside her. “Ana, I am yours. Everything I am is yours. That means you have my heart, my soul, and my family. Family is important to you—It is important to me, too, which is why I will share everything with you—even my asshole of a brother. Just give me some time to get him to come around. I know he will eventually see you for who you are.”

Yup, she was most definitely going to marry this man.

Ana smiled at him, shaking her head at his words. She rose from her chair, refusing to let go of his hand as she turned to straddle Rav’s lap. Rav’s free hand came to rest on her waist, and Ana gently pushed her forehead against his helmet.

“Rav, I don’t care what your brother thinks,” she repeated. “I care about what you think, you stubborn ass,” she teased, and the two shared a chuckle. Ana took a deep breath and brought her free hand up to cup the side of his helm. “I care so much about what you think that I just might marry you—”

The next second was a blur. One moment, she was sitting in Rav’s lap, and the next, she was dumped to the cold durasteel floor of his ship while the idiot bolted out of the cockpit.

Ana blinked in confusion as she watched the man run away from her. In fact, Rav ran so fast that he almost tripped on his boots when he turned to enter the sleeping quarters.

“You know that I was in the middle of proposing, you idiot!” she called after him.

Rav poked his head out of his room to say, “Not if I ask you first!”

“Real mature there, Buckethead,” Ana grumbled as she pushed herself off the floor. “What are you, five?” she laughed. “You’ve been asking me to marry you for almost a year.”

“Precisely,” Rav agreed, stepping out of his room with his hands behind his back. “Do not take this moment away from me, Iliana Corra,” he growled.

Ana smirked and opened her mouth to give him a hard time, but she closed it when Rav handed her something wrapped haphazardly from behind his back. She lifted a skeptical eyebrow and smirked at him before returning her attention to the scrap fabric wrapped around her present.

“Go on,” Rav encouraged her, and Ana smiled at the excitement in his voice.

Slowly, she brought her free hand up to peel the piece of fabric away—

“Rav,” she gasped as the fabric fell away.

It was exquisite. At first glance, it appeared to be a simple dagger made of solid silver, but then her eyes landed on the hilt. The hilt looked like a snake wound around the handle. The serpent had two tiny emeralds for the eyes, and the body, which formed the perfect grip, was decorated with small, delicate scales.

“It’s made of beskar,” Rav whispered.

Ana’s eyes widened at his admission, and she looked at him but found herself speechless.

“I know you think I’m a rash idiot, but I actually put some thought into this,” he huffed nervously. “I wanted to find something that tied us together, some common denominator we had. After trying to come up with some different ideas, I started looking into our home planets,” he explained. “I grew up on Concordia but was born on Mandalore,” he told her. “And would you believe that Mandalore and Naboo have something in common?”

Ana scrunched her brow and looked down at the dagger. “A snake?”

He nodded. “The fanned rawl is native on both planets,” he informed her. “And I know that you have been hurt by your friends calling you a snake… but…” he tapered off and cupped her head with his gloved hands. “But I don’t want you to be hurt by your past. I want you to embrace it. It’s who you are. Let it shape you. Don’t let it change you. You’re a viper, mesh’la,” he whispered. “You’re ready to strike and defend those you care about and the things you believe in without hesitation. You’re strong—lethal even. And I’ve been mesmerized by your beauty since the first time I ever laid eyes on you,” he admitted, pushing his forehead into hers.

Okay, he was still an idiot, but he was an idiot who knew exactly what to say.

“Iliana Corra—”

“Yes!” Ana agreed before he could finish his question.

“Yes?” Rav rasped as if he had misheard her, and Ana nodded eagerly. “This isn’t one of your jokes, is it? You realize you just agreed to marry me, right?”

Ana laughed and flung her arms around his neck, smiling brightly when he spun her around the cockpit.

“I can’t believe I finally got you to say yes,” he laughed, refusing to let her down. “I’m going to tell our kids this story every year on our anniversary.”

She froze and tried to pull away, but Rav refused to let her go. Unable to go anywhere, she pulled her head back enough to look at the man’s helmet. “You want kids?” she asked, eyes wide with surprise.

They’d never had the kids talk before. Having children of her own was something that she had long put behind her. It was something that was frowned upon. You couldn’t be a Jedi and have attachments.

But she wasn’t going to be a Jedi…

Rav slowly put her down. “I guess we never talked about that,” he murmured.

“I never thought I would get to have them,” she told him honestly. She smiled and then ducked her head in embarrassment. “I always used to dream of having a little girl, though,” she admitted quietly.

“I know nothing about girls,” came Rav’s terrified response. Ana snorted and rolled her eyes. “Keep your tongue to yourself, mesh’la,” he warned, but was soon laughing with her. “A girl, huh?” he asked, placing his arms on her waist.

Ana shrugged. “One of each would be nice, too,” she said with a smile.

“You know, Mandalorian wedding ceremonies are done in private without an officiant,” he said slowly, tugging her closer.

“Oh?” she asked. “So… we could get married right here, right now?” Rav nodded. “And after this wedding ceremony, will I get to see your face?” Rav nodded again. “Good,” she said, giving the man an evil smirk. “I need to know what I’m working with before we have kids,” she teased. “I might need to go find someone else—”

“Bite your tongue, mesh’la,” he warned with a growl.

Ana lifted an eyebrow at him and said, “Marry me, and you can bite it for me.”

She couldn’t ever remember smiling or laughing as much as she did at that moment when Rav tossed her over his shoulder and ran down the hall to his bedroom, where they exchanged their vows. Afterward, they worked on making that first child a reality.

I’ll just have to make sure that if and when we do have children, I can keep their father from telling them every detail from their wedding day."

Alaina felt delirious.

There were so many emotions… so many untold secrets her mother had kept for her… 

Listening to Din narrate her mother’s stories made it better.

She was now propped up against his right side, her head leaning against his bicep, and her leg cushioned by pillows, with Grogu passed out between their laps.

When Din turned the page, her curiosity was piqued when she saw that the handwriting style had changed to her father’s as the primary writer for the first time in this entry.

She wasn’t the only one taken aback, judging by Din’s quick intake of breath, she heard.

“What?” she asked, looking between him and the book he was holding.

“This was only two days before the sentry droids attacked my homeworld,” he whispered, running the pad of his finger under the date.

Alaina rubbed his arm and nuzzled her head into his upper arm. “We can take a break if you want,” she offered, kissing the muscle under her.

“No,” he murmured. “If that’s okay?”

Alaina nodded.

"My brother is a good man. He is a family man, a proud man, and a good Mandalorian.

He is also an enormous pain in the ass.

“I don’t have time for this,” Kresh muttered, shoving off the wall.

They’d come to Kresh’s home—his old home—on Concordia, and it had not quite been the reunion he’d been picturing.

Rav stepped in his way, preventing him from leaving the room. “Please,” he whispered. “Please, let’s just sit at the table,” he encouraged, waving at the table that had been in their family for generations. “Five minutes, that’s all I’m asking.”

“The table is reserved for family,” Kresh growled, turning his head to glare at the blonde-headed woman already sitting at the table.

Ana gave Kresh a wave and a cocky smile, and Rav had to fight not to laugh when his brother’s growl intensified.

“I know what you are,” Kresh started lowly, stalking his way to the table. 

Rav forgot how much larger and more intimidating his brother could be compared to him, but when Ana let out a loud yawn, he didn’t think he could have loved her any more than he did at that moment.

“You are not welcome here,” Kresh continued, ignoring Ana’s indifference to him. “My brother can ruin his life however he wants, but you will keep your ilk away from my people, home, and family.”

Ana smirked, “Speaking of family—”

Rav coughed and stepped quickly to Ana’s side. She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, and Rav gripped her shoulder, silently pleading to let him break that bit of news to his brother. 

“What?” came Kresh’s gruff question, returning him to the present.

“Look, Ana had an old contact from the Empire reach out—”

Kresh scoffed. “A Jedi and an Imperial sympathizer? Have you lost your mind, Raivi?!”

Rav ground his teeth. “Mandalore and Concordia are in danger, Kresh!” he spat out.

“Is that what you learned from your little Imp bedwarmer? You’re an idiot to trust her! What if she is using you?! And you brought her here, to my home! You’ve done some moronic things in your lifetime, Raivi, but bringing this pathetic—”

He never learned what insult Kresh was about to hurl at Ana because suddenly, an unseen force shoved his brother back into the wall.

Rav slowly lowered his gaze to find Ana glaring at his brother with her hand outstretched.

A cold, eerie silence filled the room, and Rav tapped on Ana’s shoulder, motioning for her to get up.

Ana kept her green eyes locked on his brother, and he knew he would get nowhere fast if they kept going at one another’s throats.

“Can you wait outside for me?” he murmured, rubbing the backs of his fingers along her upper arm.

Her green eyes looked back at him, assessing him, before she nodded.

Ana pulled her grey cloak back up to cover her distinctive bright hair. She paused and turned to look back at Kresh. “You should listen to your little brother every once in a while,” she said quietly. “Your life and the lives of everyone on Concordia might depend on it.”

“Get out of my home,” Kresh growled.

Ana gave him a knowing look before she turned to exit the home.

With a sigh, Rav turned to offer a hand to his brother. Kresh accepted the offer, but not without letting out his own sigh of displeasure.

“Raivi—”

“No!” Rav roared back, stepping into his brother's personal bubble and doing his best to make him as tall as the other man. “Say what you want about the Jedi, but she’s not one of them. And she’s not a fucking Imp either,” he growled.

Kresh groaned. “Oh, don’t tell me the two of you are still—”

“I married her,” Rav informed him, ready to end this insane tiff.

Although he would be lying if he didn’t admit that his brother’s shocked silence brought him a certain amount of glee.

“You what?!”

Rav smirked. “Almost six months ago now,” he revealed. “I guess I finally wore her down. Only took me a year of constantly asking her,” he chuckled.

“Please tell me this is one of your jokes,” Kresh begged.

“Oh, I’m not joking. I’m a married man now,” he told his brother proudly.

“I think I need to sit down,” Kresh groused, shuffled past him, and fell into his customary seat at the table with his helmet in his hands. After a moment, his brother removed the blue helm and placed it on the table before, now giving Rav the full view of his most disappointed look.

Rav followed suit, removing his helmet as well. He grimaced as he took a seat at the table, preparing himself for what he was about to say next. “Gave her the rest of my portion of the family beskar, too.”

When Kresh’s hands hit the table, Rav was proud that he didn’t flinch.

“You did not,” Kresh pleaded, eyes wide saucers, silently begging his little brother to reveal that this was all some kind of elaborate joke.

Rav cringed. “The thing is, I did.” Hopefully, Ana was in earshot and would come save him before his brother actually strangled him to death. “I went back to Mandalore and had our old Armorer make her a special dagger for a wedding present. We haven’t gotten to tell anyone, so this is kinda exciting for me. So, may I present Raivi and Iliana—”

“She doesn’t get to taint our family name by taking it,” Kresh all but growled at his little brother.

Rav shrugged and stood up from his chair. “Maybe I’ll take hers then,” he said nonchalantly. The flash of irritation his brother shot him only fueled him. “If I’m that much of an embarrassment to the family, I’ll make sure our children take her name, too.”

“Children,” Kresh rolled his eyes and growled. “I don’t have time for any of this. I asked you to come help with the attack we learned is going to take place on Aq Vetina—”

“You asked, and here I am,” Rav said, opening his arms. “That’s what brothers are for,” he said quietly, returning his arms to his side. “All I wanted was for you to hear us out.”

Stifled silence filled the house again. He loved his brother, but when he was being a stubborn ass, he made it difficult to remember that.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Rav started as an idea came to him. “I’ll go with the others to Aq Vetina if you go with Ana,” he offered. Kresh scoffed, and Rav held up his hand to stop his brother. “Take your own ship. Go do reconnaissance and see it with your own eyes. We can meet back here when we’re both done, and if we’re lying… then you have my word that you’ll never see either of us again.”

Rav had almost convinced himself that Kresh would laugh his suggestion off, but when his older brother held his hand out between them. Rav gripped it before the man could change his mind.

“I’ll do this. But after this, your riduur is no longer welcome here,” Kresh said lowly, gripping Rav’s hand painfully tight.

“Fine,” Rav rasped, disappointed in his brother.

It would seem that Iliana and I were both abandoned by our families.

Yeah, but we still have each other.

Darasuum."

Alaina flipped through the next few pages while sipping on the warm bowl of bone broth she was holding.

Din had gone quiet after reading Rav’s entry in her mother’s journal, and when Alaina’s stomach rumbled loudly, she declared it was time for them to take a break. Din had warmed up a bowl of broth for each of them before disappearing into her old room up top to eat in privacy.

The next few entries weren’t very long, and only one brief mention of a foundling.

A sloppy, slurping noise from the other side of the bed made her look up from her journal to give Grogu a pointed look. “Manners,” she chided, but the kid just smiled. “Don’t think you can smile your way out of manners, little one,” she told him. “I know this was a boy’s club while I was gone, but now that I’m back, manners will be strictly enforced,” Alaina smirked at the quiet spitting noise the kid gave before tipping his bowl back up to cover his face.

She sipped from her own bowl while she returned to peruse the journal to see what was in store.

“Oh! Grogu, I think we’re to you,” she said, pointing to the page she was on. “Mama mentions returning to Coruscant to save her teacher’s ass,” she grinned.

“Are you reading without me?” Din’s voice startled her, and she saw him climb down the ladder, redressed in his flight suit, but still sans armor. 

Must be cold enough for even Din to need an extra layer, she thought, bundling the black fur blanket she had confiscated from the other trunk even tighter around her shoulders.

“I’m just scanning a head a little,” she defended before downing the rest of her broth.

At the sound of Din’s disbelieving hum, she gave him a sweet, apologetic smile and batted her eyes at him. He just shook his helmet at her as he collected her and Grogu’s dishes to take to clean.

“So, what did I miss?” he asked.

“Not much. Most of what is written is more of a travel diary. Where they went, how long they were there,” she told him, slowing down to take a closer look at the shorter entries. “She doesn’t say, but I think she and my dad got into some kinda argument. She left him on Concordia for a little while—Oh,” Alaina stopped as she reread a short entry.

“What?” Din asked quietly as he came back to join her.

“They had troubles getting pregnant,” Alaina revealed, lowering the book to look up at his helmet. “She never told me that…” she whispered, frowning at the book. “Kresh asked for his brother to return to Concordia, and my mom left him there so she wouldn’t have to tell him that she wasn’t pregnant again after almost a year of trying.” Alaina was quiet as she analyzed her mother’s writing and wondered if part of her entries around that time were so short because she was sad. “But she got a message from her old mentor, Beq, and returned to Naboo for help. She even flat-out wrote that her parents didn’t warrant any more space in her journal. Her father was on the Queen’s council, and she ignored him when she went to ask the Queen for backup to go to Coruscant. The Queen sided with her when her own father wouldn’t,” Alaina tisked. “I couldn’t imagine,” she said sadly. “Naboo sent her with a small army back to Coruscant. She doesn’t say much about Beq or Grogu… just that she was glad to help and had the opportunity to make her peace with her former master.”

Din slid the diary from her fingers and flipped through the pages. “This is when Rav came back to Concordia for the first time after leaving me there,” he said. “Kresh told him I just laid in bed all day and thought a visit might help.”

Alaina’s eyebrows raised in disbelief. “You just laid around in bed all day?” she asked him, unable to picture it.

“I was ten, my parents were killed, and the guy I had traveled with and gotten attached to for a week just left me with a stranger,” he defended.

“Sorry,” Alaina apologized and rubbed his forearm. “We don’t have to keep going,” she offered. This was all new information for her, but this was, in a strange way, his history… “We have time.”

“We do,” he nodded. “Another fifteen hours to be exact.”

“Ugh,” Alaina grumbled.

Din chuckled and made himself comfortable beside her. Alaina smiled when he draped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her to his side. “Where did you leave off?” he asked, and Alaina pointed to the next date. “Comfortable?” he murmured. Alaina nodded as she snuggled further into his side to wrap her right arm around his middle.

"Rav has been off since I flew his ship back to Concordia to get him. I thought he was angry for going to Coruscant without him… at least until I saw him hugging his little foundling boy goodbye…

A year ago, I hadn’t even entertained the idea of adoption, or having a boy…

“Hey,” Rav’s irritated voice cut through her thoughts, “you’re the one with the lightsaber. You almost chopped my hand off!”

Ana cringed, “Sorry.”

Rav lowered her beskar dagger, which they’d been using as a target, and studied her with his concerned, hazel eyes. “What’s got you so preoccupied, mesh’la? Thought you’d be more excited about getting your lightsaber back.”

Ana deactivated her saber, and her arms fell exhausted by her sides. “I’m not pregnant. Again.”

Rav closed his eyes and nodded before he closed the gap between them in one large step and pulled her into a tight embrace. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, bringing his hand to hold the back of her head.

Ana shook her head and pushed away from him. “Maybe it’s a sign,” she sighed. “The Jedis are scattered and in hiding. War is on the horizon… It’s not meant to be,” she shrugged, fighting back the tears from coming. Rav shook his head, but she held up a hand to stop him. “Doesn’t mean we still can’t have a kid.”

His brow furrowed in confusion, and Ana couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he looked when he was confused. “Mesh’la, you’re not making a lot of sense right now.”

“I saw you and your foundling,” she told him with a soft smile. “That little boy looked up at you like you hung each star in the sky.”

Rav returned her smile. “He’s a good kid, but what does my foundling have anything to do with us—Wait… are you suggesting that we adopt him?”

“Why not?” Iliana shrugged. “I’m obviously broken—”

His hazel eyes broke at her words. “Iliana—”

“I mean, I don’t know anything about boys—”

“You have a lightsaber,” Rav teased. “You’d be his favorite over me in a heartbeat.”

Ana smiled, “Sooooo… are we really talking about this?”

Rav sighed and turned to sit on the bench in the common room with his head in his hands. “I’ve been considering it since I left him with Kresh,” he admitted. “He’s only just getting settled in… to uproot him again?” he shook his head. “Kresh is an ass, but he’s a good parent. The kid will have safety and stability on Concordia with him.”

Ana frowned at his answer, “I don’t understand. It’s not safe for us to adopt him... If it's not safe for that, how would it be safe for us to have a kid at all?”

“Ana, I didn’t mean—”

“What did you mean?” she cut him off, with an angry huff, and put her hands on her hips. “We’ve been trying for over a year for a kid, Rav! It’s clearly not going to happen the old-fashioned way, and one literally stumbled into your lap!”

“Iliana, look at our lives!” Rav shouted, standing up to defend himself. “We don’t have a home! We don’t have a family on either side to support us! You’re in hiding for Maker’s sake! What world are we bringing a kid into? One that is getting ready to go to war for who knows how long?”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Ana gasped, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Ana—”

“No!” she screamed, stomping to go nose to chest with him, wishing she could grow another six inches in the next blink of an eye. “You’re my home! You’re my family! I’ve been on my own for so fucking long. And it was all worth it because I finally found you!” she cried.

“Ana—”

“Do you still want a kid?”

“Iliana—”

“Yes or no?”

“I don’t know.”

Ana nodded and angrily swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “I need to be alone for a little bit,” she whispered, turning away to go lock herself in the bedroom.

“Ana,” he sighed and grabbed her forearm, but Iliana spun and used her powers to fling him across the common area and back into the stove.

“I need to be alone for a little bit,” she repeated through clenched teeth, and locked the door behind her."

Alaina sniffled and ran her finger over a spot on the paper where she suspected her mother had cried, and the page had dried with her tears.

Din was silent, but she didn’t need to ask him; she already knew he had no idea that her mother had actually suggested that they adopt him.

“Din?” Alaina whispered and smiled when she heard Din’s answering, contemplative hum. “Not that you wouldn’t have been a good one, but I’m glad you didn’t end up being my big brother.”

She couldn’t contain her smile at Din’s full-on belly laugh filling the hold.

The rest of what was considered the afternoon on Razor Crest time had been spent lazing about in bed. Every few hours, the trio would be in a different position. Grogu begged to be tossed up top a few times, but would always return after less than an hour of annoying IG. Alaina forced herself up to the fresher a couple of times, but couldn’t manage much more than a trip there and back. 

Now, the soft snores of her boys could be heard in the quiet hold. 

The three of them were cozied up under the blankets together. She was lying on her left side, with Din behind her, using his right leg to prop her prosthetic up, and she had Grogu sleeping beside her.

Alaina felt guilty reading while Din slept, but she couldn’t sleep. Although she had feigned sleep at first, she was restless. She’d tried her best to go to sleep, but her eyes kept landing on her mother’s diary, and after a couple of hours of fighting sleep, she gave in and grabbed the black leather book to read.

As she turned the page, she was only vaguely aware that she could see her breath in the cold hold, so she pulled Grogu closer to her while she snuggled her back into Din’s chest to soak in his warmth. Even in his sleep, the man’s arm instinctively tightened around her, holding her tightly.

Now, snuggled, content, warm, and safe, she turned the page.

Her mother and father hit a rough patch—A steep one.

A rough patch so steep that for a moment, Alaina was convinced her mother would leave her father.

Alaina wanted to strangle them. Her mother’s entries were sparse over the next few months and lacked her father’s commentary in the margins. 

She furrowed her brow when she turned the page and found an entire entry crossed out and Rav’s firm, bold handwriting off to the side. “No.”

Alaina squinted to see through the markups but quickly realized her mother had written her exit plan.

“Stop reading my diary,” her mother replied under her husband’s comment.

“Wherever you go, I go, Iliana Corra. You are my home.”

Alaina’s smile spanned her whole face as she read that, and then immediately disappeared when her mother wrote in the next entry that they made up and didn’t leave their bedroom for three days.

“Bleh,” she grimaced. Maybe there was a reason this particular diary was kept hidden from her.

Vague descriptions of her parents’ sexual activities aside, it was nice to see a return to happier entries and the exchange of banter between them.

They’d even broached the children topic again. Her mother apologized to Rav for walking out of the argument. She had said that she had always wanted kids but knew that would never happen as a Jedi, and when it was suddenly a possibility, she had a new mission in life.

Only for her to be unable to get pregnant and feel like she had failed that mission.

Rav had been patient and understanding. Told her that whether they ended up with a hundred children or just one foundling, they’d handle it. Together.

“Whatever happens… happens. You’re my home, Iliana Corra.”

After reading that, Alaina smiled and turned her head to kiss Din’s bicep.

“Go to sleep, Laina,” he mumbled, shifting to wrap the layers of blankets tighter around them.

She grinned at Din’s sleepy words but continued reading when his breathing returned to its normal, deep, steady rhythm.

Life moved on as her parents hopped from place to place, hiding and finding odd jobs to make ends meet. They wrote entries together, planning their life as a family: where they would live, what they would do, and what their future kids’ names would be. But months ticked by, and then another year, and Alaina wished she could crawl into the diary to hug her mother.

With the Empire monitoring most doctors who specialize in fertility, we decided a consultation wasn’t worth the risk of having my M-Count reported. Maybe our paths will cross with someone we can trust in the future. Rav’s foundling has taken the Creed and is settled in his life on Concordia. Maybe there will be another one for us in the future. Either way, whatever happens, we’ll meet it face on.

Together.   

Alaina hesitated when she turned the page and saw that her father had written the next entry. Looking behind her at the sleeping man, she decided to stop so Din could read with her. Rav, her father (still difficult to believe), had been such a huge part of Din’s life that it didn’t feel right to read her father’s words without him.

As she began to close the book, a word jumped off the page, making her heart stop.

Gideon

“Din,” she whispered in shock, flinging the book back open.

“Go to sleep, Laina,” he mumbled again, nuzzling his helmet into the back of her head.

Alaina knocked her head back into his helmet. “No, Din, wake up,” she whispered, moving the diary to whack him in the shoulder, which she learned was a mistake when he grabbed the leather diary from her hand.

“Have you been up reading this whole time?” he asked, groggily, setting the diary out of her reach behind him.

“That’s not the point,” she argued, knocking her head back into his helmet again while she tried to reach her arm back, wanting the diary again. “I think they met Moff Gideon,” she grunted, feeling the diary just out of reach of her fingertips.

Din sighed and shifted around for a moment, and Alaina silently cheered when he passed her the diary again.

“I got to an entry written by Rav and was going to stop so I could read it with you when you woke up, and then saw Gideon’s name,” she explained excitedly as she opened the diary to find her father’s entry.

“And you couldn’t wait till I woke up?” he asked, voice still thick with sleep. When Alaina shook her head, he sighed again before replying with, “Okay.”

"I’m going to be a father.

This whole, terrifying ordeal will be worth it when I see Iliana’s face when I tell her the news.

And then I’m going to tell her how incredibly rash and stupid she was for going back for my helmet. To think that she almost died—To think that I almost lost my wife and my unborn child just because Iliana knew what that helmet meant to me, even knowing I’d never be able to wear it again.

I think the memory of that little Imp, Gideon, shoving her over the edge of the building will haunt me for the rest of my life.

Say what you will about Kresh. Even though he has labeled me an apostate and never accepted my relationship with Iliana, I owe him a debt that cannot be repaid. Because while I was too stunned, watching Ana fall, he used his pack to save her. And in saving her life, he ended up saving two.

I suppose for Kresh to allow his apostate brother and his brother’s aruetii wife to stay with him while we recover is a fairly big step for someone so entrenched in the old ways.

I don’t know where we’ll go. The Jedi are being hunted, and while Gideon is a young officer, I know that look in his eyes. And he knows what Ana and I look like. He knows what we are. We’ll be in hiding for the rest of our lives, but that life will be heaven in hiding as long as I’m with my family.

I want things to be different for my child. I know there is no such thing as a perfect world, but I want to find the closest thing to one that I can. I want them to grow up knowing there is nothing that their parents wouldn’t do for them. I want them to grow up with love, safety, and wonder. I want them to be able to be a kid. I don’t want them to instantly have the weight of the Jedi and Mandalorian cultures shoved down them.

I want this to be a blank slate for my family. I want a chance for us to start over. We can rebuild our lives and be the family we need to be for our kid.

With every breath left in my body, I vow to ensure my family will have the life they deserve.

Stars . A family… A baby…

Din told me I’ll make a good dad, so at least I’ve got that going for me—high praise from a teenager. I think.

Kid, if you ever get to read any of your mother’s ramblings… I just want you to know how loved you are, and you’re not even here yet. And… between you and me, for your mother’s sake, I hope you’re a little girl. Just promise to forgive your old dad when he messes up, because I know nothing about what little girls like, but I promise I will treat you like a kriffing princess. And if we end up having a boy, and you read this, you have permission to punch me. Hell, if we have a daughter, you have permission to punch me for the princess comment, because any kid of mine will know how to throw a punch."

For the first time in hours, Alaina didn’t fight when Din slipped the book from her hands after she went quiet.

“Get some sleep, Laina,” he murmured.

She didn’t let the tears fall until after she felt his lips press into the back of her head.

Alaina frowned at the diary that was on the crate in the corner.

They were so close to finishing the diary. Her parents had found a community on a quaint planet that sounded a lot like Sorgan. Her father opened a business of sorts, repairing weapons and other odds and ends that the other people in town would bring in. They had a home on the outskirts of town with a view of the countryside. 

And then their world turned upside down when their daughter decided to come a month early.

Din snorted when they read that.

“What?” Alaina asked with a frown, not understanding what the man found so amusing.

“Makes sense why you’re so rash, running into things without thinking,” he said, and Alaina lifted an eyebrow at his tease. “You’ve been doing it since the day you were born.”

Alaina rolled her eyes, snuck her hands to that sensitive spot on his ribs, and smirked when she made Din jump.

They kept reading through all of the parents’ firsts. She remembered a lot of this from what her mother had said. Still, it was nice to read about how, after several sleep-deprived days, her father gave in and started reading from one of his weapons manuals he had out from a recent repair, and they finally figured out how to get their daughter to sleep.

Unfortunately, for her mother, that trick only worked for her father. However, Ana quickly learned she could almost hypnotise her daughter by making small trinkets around the house float around her. Even if she couldn’t coax her daughter back to sleep, she could at least silence her cries.

She smiled to learn that Rav even took his daughter to his shop with him a couple of times a week so Iliana could have some time to herself. He would place her in one of those bouncing devices strung between a doorframe while he repaired whatever was brought in.

The small family was happy and enjoying the life they’d made together.

And then Kresh showed up on their front porch.

Of course, that’s when Din decided it was time for a break.

“Hey!” Alaina complained, as Din closed the book and placed it just outside her reach.

“We’re almost there,” he said solemnly as he moved off the bed.

“Almost there isn’t there,” Alaina argued. “We’re almost finished!”

Din ignored her as he stretched and refastened his armored pieces into place.

Alaina’s glare turned from the Mandalorian to her mother’s diary. She could feel the strange new feeling of her power rolling agitatedly under her skin, and she smiled, remembering that she wasn’t completely helpless anymore.

She stretched her arm out for the book and closed her eyes, waking her twin from her slumber. When she opened her eyes, they flashed black, and the leather-bound diary snapped into her waiting hand. With a victorious smile, she settled herself against the wall—

There was an excited squeal, and suddenly, the diary flew out of her hand and almost knocked Grogu over when it flew straight to him.

Even her sister’s power flowed with amusement at the toddler’s antics. 

“You little womp rat,” Alaina chuckled, ignoring Din’s irritated sigh.

She cocked her head at the kid and let her sister come forward again.

It was strange to take a backseat to your own body. Alaina was aware that her twin was now making Grogu float while he held onto the diary. She could hear Grogu’s laughter fill the hold. She could feel the same annoyance her sister felt when Din snatched the kid and the leather journal out of the air. She knew everything that was happening, but it wasn’t her doing.

“Stop,” Din commanded. The order was firm, direct, with no anger laced behind it.

Alaina rolled her eyes when her sister almost purred at the strong command and pushed her way back to being the one in control. She flexed her fingers, and a little shiver ran up her spine as she settled back against the wall with a smirk.

Din’s helmet studied her face in the silent hold, then gave her a short nod when he saw her eyes return to their normal green color as he set the kid on the bed. Instead of giving her the diary back, he put it on top of one of the crates at almost the other end of the hold.

“Come on, don’t you want to know what happened?” Alaina pleaded, not ready for a break just yet.

“I already know,” came his quiet answer, and the smile dropped from Alaina’s face.

Right. Because he’d lived this already, when Alaina was only two…

Oh.

Alaina’s breath left her. Kresh came to her parents' home when she was two. She was two when her father died. She was two when Din lost the two people who were father figures to him.

Suddenly, Din’s subdued behavior clicked. He was using their destination as an excuse to stall, because he knew what was about to happen.

“Din, I-I’m sorry,” she apologized, holding her hand out for him. Din’s wide steps crossed the hold in seconds, and he grabbed her hand in his, running his thumb over her knuckles. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just got so excited—”

“It’s okay, Tranyc,” he murmured, gently squeezing her hand before letting it go. “I’m going to go check on the droid, make sure we’re all good. I’ll find you something to wear in your room and help you if you need it. We should still have some time before we land. We can finish it once we’re all ready.”

Alaina smiled at him and nodded, understanding his need for privacy to compose himself. “We can always just stop there for now. Pick it back up after we land, wherever you’re taking me,” she offered.

He shook his helmet. “It’s okay. It will be good to finish it. I just—Just give me a second.”

“Can you bring me down some different options?” Alaina asked once Din made it to the ladder. “I’m not exactly sure what’s gonna fit over…” she faded off as she looked down at the blankets hiding her metal limb.

With a nod, Din climbed the ladder and disappeared through the hatch.

Now she frowned at the diary while Grogu made the little metal gear ball from the cockpit float to entertain him.

Alaina knew what happened, but didn’t know what happened at the same time. Kind of like knowing that her mother and the ability to make objects float, but not that she had once been trained as a Jedi. Kind of like knowing that her father was a soldier, but not that he was a Mandalorian.

Maybe… Maybe it was better to leave the rest unread. What good would it do to reopen old wounds for Din? He’d already broken once when he attempted to tell her what happened after she left him with IG with the intent to take out herself and the rest of the Imps attacking them. She didn’t want to see him relive any more pain.

Her frown deepened when something purple suddenly covered her head.

She pulled the fabric from her face, and her gut clenched when she realized what Din had brought her to wear.

“What is this?” Alaina asked, holding the dress out.

The silver helm cocked at her question. “I told you that I was going to grab you something to wear,” he replied, obviously unaware of why she was so irritated with him.

“I asked for options,” Alaina reminded him, dropping the garment onto the bed.

Din’s helmet looked at the purple dress she’d just let go of and then back at her with a questioning head tilt. “I brought your purple dress,” he answered, cluelessly, picking up the dress to hold out for her again. “You like the purple dress.”

Alaina frowned at the limp piece of lavender fabric dangling from his hand. She liked the purple dress when she had two legs to show off. She remembered how the hem struck just above her knees and floated as she moved. Now, there was nothing to show off.

“Please?” she tried again, batting her eyelashes at him. “I don’t want to wear that. I know Iris left me an entire wardrobe. Maybe there is something else?”

“What’s wrong with this?” he asked, waving the purple dress in front of her face. Alaina sighed and looked away from the dress. “You could go up to your room with me and pick something out yourself,” he suggested. “I could pass you off to IG—”

“I’m not letting you and your new pet droid pass me around like a sack of supplies,” she countered, keeping her voice firm so there was no room for argument. “Just go find something that covers more,” she settled on, unable to meet Din’s eyes.

There was a beat of silence before Din finally pulled the dress away from her with a mumbled, “Osik,” under his breath. “Alaina, I’m sorry,” he tried to excuse himself, suddenly realizing the real reason why Alaina was avoiding that particular dress.

Alaina shrugged as she burrowed herself further under the covers. “It’s okay. You can leave it,” she said dejectedly when she couldn’t remember what else she had in the wardrobe. “I might have to wear it anyway. I think it’s too big for any of the pants Iris gave me.”

Din’s hands went to his hips as he looked around the hold. “You know, I think it’s winter there right now. This would be too cold for you.” Alaina smiled at his flimsy excuse, but even his flimsy excuse made her feel a little better. “C’mon,” he said, offering her his hands. “Why don’t you get cleaned up, and I’ll find something warm enough for you.”

Alaina smiled thankfully as she allowed him to pull her up. The shuffle to the fresher was slow going, but the soothing feeling of his fingertips trailing up and down her waist was enough to distract her until they reached the door.

“I promise to yell if I need help,” she said, before Din even had the chance to say it.

Din nodded and leaned down to rest his forehead against hers. Alaina smiled and pressed her forehead back into his helmet, returning the kiss.

“He’s not my pet,” he murmured. Alaina pulled away from him with a questioning look. “The droid,” he muttered. “He’s not my pet.”

Alaina smiled at the petulant tone in his voice and nodded. “He’s not your pet,” she agreed, brushing her hand against where his cheek would be under his helmet.

Din nodded and leaned to nudge her forehead again before turning away to leave her to get cleaned up.

Without the blankets or Din’s warm body pressed against hers, the full chill of the hold hit her full force when she stripped the sweater and Din’s old tunic from her. She turned the shower on as hot as she could bear it, but the cold still seeped through the warm water. She rinsed off quickly, and by the time she dried herself off and had the towel wrapped around her body, her teeth were chattering when she opened the fresher door.

Din had already materialized on the other side of the door with a small pile of folded clothes outstretched for her to take. “Here,” he said softly, passing the outfit to her.

She smiled as she closed the door on him again, even though she knew he was still standing like her sentry on the other side of the door, listening for any signs of distress.

Alaina laid the outfit down on the sink and slid on another clean, black shirt, this one a little more worn than the other. She quickly covered it up with the grey knit sweater she’d been wearing earlier. Her eyes settled on the pair of his sweatpants he brought for her to wear. It was a kind and practical thought. They would be warm and large enough to cover the bulk of her metal limb from view. Unfortunately, she had no idea how she was going to be able to put them on without help.

She heaved a frustrated sigh and stared at her reflection in the mirror. “You can do this,” she muttered to herself, giving herself a little nod of encouragement. 

Alaina settled herself on the stupid tilting vac tube and slid her left leg easily enough into the appropriate leg. Then, she sighed as she glowered at the right leg. It refused to cooperate with her, and even when she attempted to force the metal knee joint to bend, it pulled on the infected, sensitive skin on her thigh, making her hiss in pain.

Her head hung in defeat, and she took a deep breath before quietly calling for Din. The door swooshed open before she even finished saying his name, and she lifted her head to look at him, silently asking for help with her eyes. Wordlessly, he knelt before her and helped guide her prosthetic into the sweats.

Alaina looked away, fighting back tears of embarrassment at being relegated to this. Not that long ago, her biggest problem was a mad scientist, and now, her archnemesis was pants.

The familiar scratch of Din’s mustache on her cheek startled her from her thoughts, and she closed her eyes as he gave her a tender kiss. “I’ve got you,” he whispered into her cheek, his lips dragging against her skin as she spoke.

Alaina nodded and slipped the sweats the rest of the way over her hips as Din helped her stand. She wasn’t even surprised when she felt Din’s arm under her knees moments before he picked her up to cradle her against his chest. Alaina wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face into his cowl, breathing in his familiar scent, letting it calm her down.

“I know it doesn’t seem like it now,” Din’s baritone voice rumbled as he lowered her to the bed. “But it won’t always be like this. You’re next leg will be everything you need. I promise,” he finished, tucking a lock of hair back behind her ear.

Alaina could only give him a strained smile in answer.

Din appeared to accept her silence for now and brushed his thumb across her lips before he turned to cross the hold. Alaina tracked him as he walked to the crate where he left her mother’s diary and picked it up.

“We don’t have to,” she offered quietly. “If it’s going to be too painful for you. We already know what happens.”

Din crawled beside her on the bed, his armor and boots adding more bulk to him, but to Alaina, it was a familiar, comfortable bulk. It was safety, it was protection—It was him. When Din lifted his arm, she snuggled closer into his right side and smiled when he draped his arm around her.

“We finish it,” Din began. “And when we’re done, there will be no more mysteries or secrets between us. We finish it, and we say thank you to the people who shaped our lives, and we move forward with a clean slate,” he finished, voice firm and decisive.

Alaina sucked in a deep breath through her nose and tapped the leather cover, signaling for him to continue reading.

“It’s been two weeks since I last heard from Rav.

I’m trying not to worry, but it’s hard not to, especially when you’re being woken up at all hours of the night by a teething two-year-old.

Besides, I gave you my dagger as a promise that you would return to me. I’m going to be pissed if I don’t get it back…

The now-familiar high-pitched screams of her daughter’s cries echoed through their home, and Ana sighed, setting aside her diary to attempt to quiet her daughter.

“My, my, little one,” she cooed, attempting to smile as she lifted her daughter up from her crib. “Are you still working on cutting those back teeth?” she asked, clutching Lainey tighter to her chest as her daughter’s wails increased.

Ana carried her around their home, bouncing her until little Lainey’s cries slowly dwindled to quiet sniffles.

“There you go, little one,” Ana soothed, stroking the top of her blonde head. “How about we try to go back to sleep?” she suggested, turning back around when Lainey began sniffling louder, and Ana stopped to sigh. “I know what you want,” she whispered in her daughter's ear.

Ana pointed at the couch, directing her daughter’s attention to the stuffed porg. With a wave of her finger, the small stuffed toy levitated in the air. Lainey giggled at the sight, and when Ana moved the porg closer to them, Lainey’s giggles turned into squeals of delight. Ana giggled along with her, grabbing the porg from the air to hand to their daughter.

Her smile immediately vanished when there was a knock at the door.

Ana stood frozen, staring at the front door. Her stomach churned, and her mind raced with possibilities. They lived in the country… There wasn’t a soul for kilometers.

Another round of knocking only cemented her fears.

“Okay, Lainey, I need you to go back to your bed,” she told her daughter, doing her best to keep her fears out of her voice. “You’ve got your favorite toy, and I need you to go back to bed and be quiet for Mama, okay?” she whispered, kissing her daughter’s head as she placed her back in her crib.

Lainey cooed as she continued to play with the stuffed porg, utterly oblivious to her mother’s anxiety.

Ana tiptoed out of Lainey’s bedroom and narrowed her gaze on the door. She outstretched her hand, and the lightsaber that Beq had returned to her after she came to his rescue flew out of their bedroom and into her hand. She continued walking to the front door with her weapon tucked behind her back. When she reached the door, she cracked it open and was greeted with a slice of dusty blue armor.

Maker, she thought as she released a sigh of relief at the sight of the familiar armor. Rav knew better than to scare her…

But Ana paused as she opened the door the rest of the way. The armor was the familiar blue Vizsla armor, but that wasn’t Rav or his brother Kresh. The build was tall, but the stature lacked the bulk of the two grown men.

Kresh had never allowed her to meet his son or his foundling (even though Rav was technically the one who found him). Through her handful of dealings with Kresh, she knew he was enough of a stickler, and only family was allowed to wear their traditional armor. Rav had mentioned his foundling had respectfully declined Kresh’s offer of adoption, which meant he wouldn’t wear the traditional Vizsla armor. So, that only left one kid.

“Paz?” she guessed. 

The younger Mandalorian nodded, confirming her guess. 

Suddenly, Ana’s chest tightened, and tears filled her eyes. There would be only one reason why Paz would be here. She shook her head, refusing even to think that thought. 

“No,” she whispered.

Paz’s blue helmet dropped, and her heart followed.

“No!” Ana cried. “What—” she tried to start, but became too choked. “He told me that Kresh said they were just doing reconnaissance! What could they possibly have found?!”

“War,” Paz answered frankly, cutting her off. “War is coming—it’s already here.”

The thing they’d dreaded for years. The thing she’d tried to warn her teachers about and had been labeled as a mutinous snake… The thing they’d tried to warn the Children of the Watch about…

“Where is he?” she asked, gulping down her tears.

Paz’s helmet sank lower.

“Your family hated me so much that you wouldn’t even let me be there to say goodbye?” she choked out.

“I—” Paz began, but stopped when a thud came from the house's back bedroom.

Ana closed her eyes. Leave it to Lainey to pick now to learn how to crawl out of her crib. She turned around to find her daughter toddling out of her bedroom, clutching her stuffed porg to her chest, clearly proud of herself for escaping the confines of her crib.

“Mama, mama, mama,” she babbled, rushing the rest of the way to her mother.

Ana bent down to scoop her daughter up and hold her against her chest. Lainey’s green eyes blinked and pointed at the armored man on their porch.

“Da!” she squealed, attempting to squirm out of her mother’s arms.

“No, little one,” Ana told her, kissing her forehead. “Not Daddy,” she told her, swallowing back her tears before returning her attention to the younger Mandalorian, who was now staring at her daughter. “Is that it?” she snapped.

Paz shook his head and directed his attention to her once more. “I’ve arranged for a transport ship to come tomorrow,” he told her quietly. “The pilot can be trusted. He’ll take you anywhere you want to go—”

“This is our home. I’m not leaving,” Ana spat.

“You need to. For her sake,” he nodded to Lainey, who was watching the Mandalorian with bright green eyes. “Rav added her to the Registers of Mandalore along with the rest of our family as Alaina Vizsla,” he informed her, flat and solemn. Ana’s eyes widened, unaware of that piece of information. “They’re hunting us now, and if the things my father said about you are right…” he finished, tapering off.

Then she’ll be both a Force user and a Mandalorian.

“I’m sorry,” Paz rasped, and Iliana hated the undercurrent of sincerity in his tone.

“Go to hell,” she growled and slammed the door in his face, but the teen’s boot shot forward before she could close it all the way.

“Here,” he murmured, reaching through the gap in the door to pass her a folded piece of paper. “We found this on him. I think it’s for you.”

Ana’s hand shook as she took the note, unable to stop the tears from streaming from her eyes like waterfalls. When Paz removed his foot, the pressure from her hand forced the door to slam closed.

Lainey began screaming at the sound of the door slamming, and Iliana waited until she heard the boy finally turn from the door and leave before she let herself collapse on the floor, clutching Lainey and sobbing along with her.

Rav and I were practical. We had planned for any combination of scenarios that could happen, but I never once imagined this life without him. Raivi Vizsla, my buckethead, my idiot, my home, knew exactly what I needed to hear. ”

Din gulped as he paused, and Alaina’s index finger traced the scrap of paper that had been cut and glued to the page below her mother’s words.

Her face crumpled as she read her father’s last words to his wife. “What do we say?” she read aloud through her own cries.

Din’s helmet tilted as he rested it on top of her head, and he read her mother’s words written below it. “Corras, don’t give up.”

Even Grogu felt the somber mood that now blanketed the hold.

Din continued to read the sparse entries. Her mother talked about how difficult it was to start over and how hard being a single mother was, but she was thankful for the new friends she had made while they settled into their new life. 

Every entry was like she were writing to Rav, as if he could be kept up to date in the afterlife.

The Razor Crest lurched as they dropped from hyperdrive with only one entry left.

IG-11’s head lowered through the hold and announced, “We’ve been cleared to land.”

Din nodded his approval, and the droid disappeared again. Then he turned his helmet to her. “We finish it,” he murmured, passing the diary back to her for the final entry.

Alaina nodded as she took the diary and lovingly ran her fingers over her mother’s handwriting before she began.

“Our daughter is going to be a ballerina.

The daughter of Iliana Corra, a former heiress who should have been a Jedi, is going to be a ballerina.

The daughter of Raivi Vizsla, Mandalorian, and the descendant of the great Tarre Vizsla, is going to be a ballerina.

I’m glad that the Corras will continue to make the Mandalorians proud. 

She was so happy, how can I tell her no?

I can only imagine you would have been overwhelmed by a world of tulle and pink, but something tells me you would have gone all in the second you saw how happy Lainey was after her first lesson.

She is nothing like us, and that is exactly what we wanted. Lainey is a five-year-old bundle of energy with the focus of a gnat, but Maker, help me. She loved her ballet class.

So, now we have a ballerina.

A soft knock on the door forced her to put her pen down. Ana smiled as her daughter spun around their small apartment, practicing the dance moves she had learned.

“Why don’t you go change out of your dance clothes, and I’ll take you out for dinner?” she suggested.

“I’m never gonna take these off,” Lainey sighed, twirling in the outfit of light pink tights and tulle so her skirt flared around her.

Ana rolled her eyes, chuckling to herself as she opened the door, only for the smile to fall from her face at who was on the other side.

“What are you doing here?” she whispered to the younger Mandalorian. His helmet tilted that same way Rav’s used to when he caught sight of the spinning ball of yellow and pink behind her. “Lainey,” she said sharply, turning back to her daughter, closing the door slightly so she couldn’t see the visitor. “Go change.”

“But Mama—”

“Alaina Corra,” her mother snapped, giving her a serious look, pursing her lips when her daughter sighed like a petulant teenager before returning her attention to the unexpected guest.

“What do you want, Paz?”

“Corra?” he asked her, taking her by surprise.

“It’s my name, since she can’t have her father’s,” she answered flatly.

Paz coughed nervously and turned from the door to grab something she hadn’t noticed off to the side—a black trunk. He grabbed the trunk, and Ana opened the door wider so he could set it down just inside the door before he took a respectful step back. 

Ana studied the trunk with its shiny black leather and silver accents before looking back at Paz. “What is this?” she asked, pointing to the trunk.

The younger man shifted nervously in his boots and tucked his hands behind his back, but he left her question unanswered.

Ana scrunched her nose in confusion and knelt before the trunk to open it, but frowned when she realized it was locked.

Before she could ask Paz for the key, something silver floated in front of her, and the man said, “I believe this belongs to you.”

Her eyes focused on the silver scales and two tiny emeralds of her dagger, which she had accepted long ago, was lost along with her husband. Her jaw dropped and her eyes flooded with tears as she looked up at Paz for answers.

“There was… a disagreement amongst the clan about his belongings,” he answered, inching the dagger closer to her.

Ana’s breath left her as she reverently reclaimed her dagger from the Mandalorian. It was still in perfect condition, just like the day Rav gave it to her. She looked between the dagger and the trunk, noting the oddly shaped keyhole, and then looked to Paz for confirmation. When the other man nodded, she placed the blade inside the slot and unlocked the trunk.

When she opened the trunk, she reached inside and ran her fingers through the soft, black fur blanket.

“From my uncle’s first hunt as a child,” Paz explained. “His mother turned it into a blanket to commemorate it.”

Ana smiled as she removed the blanket and gasped when she saw what was hiding underneath.

Her shocked eyes shot back to Rav’s helmet.

He brought his fist up to his chest. “I—My uncle… My uncle was a good person and a great Mandalorian,” he murmured, bringing more tears to her eyes. “That is how he will be remembered. I have my father’s armor,” he told her, tapping his chest piece. “It’s only fitting for Rav’s family to have his and be able to remember him that way as well,” he finished with a slight bow.

Ana shot up and wrapped her arms around the younger boy’s neck, surprising him. “Thank you,” she rasped, pulling away from him to give him a watery smile. “Why did you return this? Not that I’m not grateful, but it’s been three years.”

“It was the right thing to do,” he answered solemnly.

Ana opened her mouth to thank him, but was cut off by the sound of Lainey humming as she ran inside the living room and flung herself on the couch with one of her books, oblivious to her mother and the armored Mandalorian on the other side of the door. She caught Paz sneaking a curious look over her shoulder and gave him a soft smile. “She has his smile,” she told him quietly. “And his attitude,” she added, and the two shared a weak chuckle. “Would you like to meet her?”

Paz sucked in a quick breath and stepped away from the door. “I should go,” he said, and Iliana nodded, not pushing it.

“Lainey, sweetie, I need to step across the hall to Soola’s. I’ll be right back,” she fibbed.

“M’kay,” her daughter replied without taking her eyes off the book.

Ana gave Paz a little eye roll and stepped out to the breezeway to say goodbye.

“Are you and your brother going to be okay on your own?” she asked as she closed the door behind her. “You’re just boys.”

“My brother’s stubbornness will either be what saves him or kills him,” he joked, but then became serious once more. “But we will be fine. This is the way.”

Ana nodded, wrapping her arms around herself before whispering, “This is the way.”

Paz gave her one last look before he nodded and turned toward the staircase at the end of the breezeway.

It was there that I decided that was the final piece I needed to close out that chapter. My sweet Lainey, I know that you will find this someday, and be hurt and confused, but I hope you understand that you were the most important thing to your father and me. So, I gathered the parts of our past that helped define us and locked them away to protect you.

We wanted more for you, Lainey. And now you’re five, dancing around our home, but someday, you’ll be a grown woman with a family of her own. I hope you understand that we didn’t want our baggage to define your life for you because you deserve to blaze your own trail in the galaxy.

I have no doubt you will. 

And when you feel like you’re all alone, remember that you carry a piece of me and your father wherever you go, and we will give you strength when you don’t think you can keep going because nothing in this galaxy is stronger than love.

And we love you. So much.

Now, what do we say? ”

“Corras don’t give up,” Alaina said quietly, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

She stared numbly at the book until she could finally set the diary in her lap.

Din scoffed, “That asshole.”

Alaina frowned and turned to give him a questioning look, not expecting that kind of response.

“I got into a fight with Paz about Rav’s armor,” he said quietly. “He never told me he took it to your mother.”

Alaina rubbed his forearm and pressed a kiss to his bicep. “It’s back with you now,” she offered, nodding to the trunk.

Din gave a low hum and turned his helmet to her before he said, “Your mother’s lightsaber is in there too.”

Her mouth dropped open in shock. “And you waited until we landed to tell me that?” she asked, staring at the trunk.

His chuckle reverberated throughout the hold as he got up from the bed. “New leg first. You can play with your mother’s lightsaber after,” he teased, and Alaina gave him a half-hearted glare. “Ready?” he asked as IG climbed down the ladder and walked to grab Grogu from the bed.

“What if I said no?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

Din bent down to pick her up and paused halfway down. Alaina followed his gaze as it landed on the black fur blanket that was her father’s. His hand reached out and grabbed the blanket, using it to wrap her up before he lifted her in his arms.

Alaina felt her nerves begin to return the closer Din got to the gangplank. The day was emotional enough as it was, and she had no idea what to expect from here. Din seemed confident that this place would be able to give her the perfect leg, but it still wouldn’t be her leg. Surely, anything had to be better than this.

The gangplank lowered, and Alaina was thankful Din decided to grab the fur blanket. The already cold hold was blasted with frigid air, and the wind blew some snowflakes inside as it lowered.

She had to squint to see through the blizzard outside, but even with the snow falling from the sky, you couldn’t miss the outline of the imposing, familiar castle straight ahead. Alaina smiled when her suspicions were confirmed when she saw guards in bright turquoise robes approaching them.

She looked up and found Din already staring down at her. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Din nodded. “What do we say?” he asked, gripping her tighter in his arms.

Tears sprang in her eyes at the question. "Corras don’t give up.”

With another nod, Din nodded and carried her down the ramp, leaving a trail of bootprints behind him in the fresh blanket of snow as they headed toward the castle.

A/N #2: Remember how, like four chapters ago, I said there was a different chapter meant for Chapter 28, but it turned into The Albatross instead? It was this one. I had originally meant for Din to read through Alaina’s mom’s diary before they realized they were both alive… but I couldn’t do that to Alaina. She needed to be there to hear her backstory, too. Now, Din and Alaina get to move forward. Together.

Cin vhetin

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Heaven in Hiding Masterlist

Next chapter in series - Chapter 33: The Antidote

[feralstemgirl]

trump’s win last tuesday was devastating and i’ve been struggling to come to terms with half of the nation i love so dearly voting for someone who is so repulsive and anti-american. the antithesis of everything i believe america to stand for. for a moment, i felt the foundations of my faith in people- in humanity, falter. how could it not?

but i was re-reading Man’s Search for Meaning this morning and it reminded me of why i love humans with such desperate hope you could mistake me for a dog at the dinner table.

we humans, we are capable of so much good, so much love, so much light- it’s blinding.

there’s this story about the revered anthropologist dr. margaret mead that rattles around my head sometimes.

as the story goes, a student asked her what she considered to be the first sign of civilization. the student was probably expecting an answer about fishhooks or clay pots or domesticated plants, any of which have reasonable arguments for being early markers of civilization.

but mead instead responded, “a fractured femur that has healed.”

she went on to explain that in the animal kingdom, breaking your leg is a death sentence. you can’t hunt, can’t get to the watering hole, can’t run from predators. no animal survives a broken leg long enough for the bone to heal.

a healed leg means someone had stayed. someone had tended to the wound, had carried that person to safety, brought them food and water as they healed.

helping someone else through difficulty is where civilization starts, she supposedly explained.

now, who knows whether this story is true or not. i’ve looked it up and the origins are messy, and maybe that’s even part of why it has always stuck with me. whether it’s something dr. mead really said or not, it’s become the guiding principle of my own life.

civilization begins with a healed femur.

so please understand that this is what i mean when i say to be human is to love & to love is to be human.

i know that there are many of us out there discouraged by the rise of fascism across the world. by the seeming cruelty of the people we share this world with. by the shadows that seem to envelop us.

but i implore you: do not give up.

we have been healing bones for thousands of years. and during that time, empires have risen and fallen, great plagues & storms & fires have destroyed societies, dictators have held court over their burning countries, conquerers have won and lost enormous swaths of land, and through it all, the only consistency has been healed femurs; the depth of love humans are capable of holding for each other.

this fight might be slow, it may feel like we take one step back for every step forward, but it is worth it.

photo sources:

man’s search for meaning // man’s search for meaning // threads user bestcrispair // the plague // threads user fly_me_aroundwd // threads user st_friend79 // comment on a tiktok regarding the election // comment on a tiktok thanking kamala harris for giving us all hope, even if for a short period of time // comment on a tiktok about the generational fight women have been waging for our rights // transcription (done by me) of a tiktok posted by french user santasolina

[aziraphales-library]

Hi mods,

first of all, thank you for the great work you've been doing, thanks to you I've found some amazing fics!

I was wondering if you could recommend a slow burn fic that is on the longer side, at least 20,000 words, non-human, any rating? Something like She did look back, and I love her for that by Waterloo maybe?

Thanks so much in advance, have a wonderful day!

Hello! Here are some longer slow burn non-human fics...

The space between us by MyOwnName123 (T)

This is a love story, written by my own asexual/aromantic ass. Crowley took exactly seven seconds to fall madly in love with Aziraphale, but he knows it's a terrible idea to actually do anything about it so instead he spends thousands of years pining away silently. Besides, what does love even mean? This fic may or may not have gone out of hand in terms of biblical and historical accuracy, also i tried to stay true to canon but it's been a while since i last read Good omens so this is probably more based on head canons and other fanfic. Enjoy!

32 Questions That Lead To Love by ffonippop (E)

”First formulated in 1997, [32] questions to fall in love is a study by psychologist Dr. Arthur Aron which took place at Stony Brook University, New York. The aim? Speeding up the creation of intimacy between two strangers.” The Cosmopolitan Okay, fine. Crowley was 32-Questions-That-Lead-To-Love-ing Aziraphale. Sue him. He had no expectations, all right? Just, an innocent curiosity.

Sunlight or Demise by verovex (T)

Anathema had once said she couldn’t see Adam’s aura, and it should’ve been more of a red flag, but the reality was it had just been so large she couldn’t see it for what it was. For Crowley, it was the same thing with trying to see reciprocation from Aziraphale. * The enormity of love was, by all accounts, indecipherable. Aziraphale had known what love felt like in this world. At least, he thought he understood it. He felt it all around him. He always had. Sometimes, it was stronger in particular places than in others. But, there was something blurred about it all if you looked too close. He’d realized that Heaven never felt like this, yet it’s where you were taught that it should exist. Aziraphale had started to wonder. He couldn’t decide when the thought first came around that perhaps the love he felt had actually been what was sifting between him and Crowley. At some point, it was easier to be humbled by the complacency of what they’d always been showing each other than outright admitting it for what it was. But that wasn't enough anymore.

Heaven's a Distance, Not a Place by Turcote (T)

The Apocalypse has come and gone, and Aziraphale knows it's finally time to tell Crowley how he really feels. Only, finding the perfect time to confess is proving to be more difficult than he anticipated... Or, 5 Times Aziraphale Almost Confessed His Feelings + the 1 Time He Finally Did.

What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? by theshoparoundthecorner (G)

“Bit of an odd tradition, if you ask me,” he said, if not to get his mind off the longing that had settled in his chest. Aziraphale shrugged. “I think it’s rather sweet. A kiss for good luck. Seems a nice way to start the year. Very human.” Crowley nodded. “Can’t seem to keep their hands off each other, that lot. Always finding excuses. First it’s mistletoe at Christmas, then it’s luck for the New Year…” “Well there’s no need to be so grouchy about it,” Aziraphale said. “I think it’s lovely.” Crowley’s heart ached a little more as he watched Aziraphale smile up at the glowing numbers on the building above them. Yeah, he thought, lovely. Five times Crowley thought about kissing Aziraphale on New Year's Eve, and one time he did.

Oh, Maker by voluptatiscausa (E)

"The humans are strange and graceful as they explore the garden, explore themselves, explore each other. The trouble is, the humans stare back, which makes him uncomfortable; there’s nothing particularly interesting about him. And, though he rarely admits it to himself, the humans make him lonely; he has no Other to explore." Or: how many times can you take a bath with your best friend before you kiss him?

And the one you mentioned...

She did look back, and I love her for that by Waterloo (M)

1666, LONDON, AFTER THE FIRE Oh fuck, he thinks. Oh fuck, he's in love. (A not-so-nice but entirely accurate account of two immortal beings throughout the millenia, replete with feelings.)

- Mod D