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puffcap-factory · 6 months

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It all started with a missing guitar pick...

(Heartsteel Kayn x reader)

Heartsteel!Kayn x gn!reader; fluff, crack, very lighthearted.

There are also other heartsteel members appearing in the story.

It’s basically playful teasing and banters turn into an unexpected romantic situation.

Words: 2.1k

Notes:

Going through the Ionian lore got me so sad so I decided to make a heartsteel fic to cheer me up instead. Featuring the chaotic, sexy boy, Kayn! I didn't think too much for the title so it is what it is hehe

As always, I hope you enjoy! :D

•~•~•~•

You were comfortably seated on the emptied floor carpet, where you had moved the clutter aside to make space for you, twiddling with the strings of the acoustic guitar using the newly-found pick you discovered on the practice room's floor. With earphones in one ear, connected to your phone, you were engrossed in a guitar chord tutorial video for your latest favorite song. You began to follow the instructions of the video to practice when–

Bang!

The door blew wide open.

"Kayn– oh, come on, are you really going to make such a fuss over this little guitar pick of yours? Just use another one!" Ezreal's voice was filled with exasperation as he tried to reason with the magenta-haired guy next to him.

"You don’t understand," Kayn grunted in response, his attention shifting as he noticed you sitting casually with the guitar in hand. "That one's thinner; I need it for our next practice. It suits better for – oh."

Kayn's gaze zeroed in on your hand holding the pick as he made his way towards you, his eyes narrowing.

"Hi there, y/n!" Ezreal greeted you with a wave, but Kayn's focus was solely on you now, he then crouched in front of you.

"So..." he observed your hand holding the pick. "Seems like the co-manager has taken my precious pick, hmm?"

Yes, you had been working as a co-manager, helping Alune with her job. Though you preferred to stay out of the limelight, keeping your work behind closed curtains, which meant you weren't seen by the public too often.

Now that the day was almost over, you had headed into the instrument room – more like a storage room due to the immense clutter – to tend to your own curiosity of learning how to play a guitar.

Looking up at Kayn, you couldn't help but smile somewhat innocently in response to his accusation.

"See, it's not lost - oh, damnit!" Ezreal stopped, checking his wristwatch. "K'sante had asked me to pick up the pizza for dinner! Be right back!" With a blink, he was gone, leaving the door wide open.

Kayn, who grunted a little and turned his head slightly to glance at Ezreal, now redirected his attention back to you, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, luckily, I found it first, before it got swallowed by the floor, right?" you grinned, pausing the tutorial video. "Besides, I think we used to have a whole box of these. Where are the others, Kayn?"

Lost. Accidentally thrown away. Lost again. Kayn's frown deepened, indicating that he had not been the best keeper of those picks. You couldn't help but tease him with a playful smirk.

"Well, that's a problem for another day. Now, how about you give it back to me nicely..."

You decided to tease him more, challenging him as you set back into position to strum the guitar and continued practicing, practically ignoring him. Kayn let out a frustrated sigh, his eyes fixed on your fingers as they moved across the strings.

“Wait, wait – what is that?” He scoffed, his eyes fixed on your strumming. He definitely had a comment on your guitar technique.

You glanced up to him, stopping on your tracks. “What.”

He snickered, a hint of playful mockery in his tone. “That’s not how you play it.”

“I was just following –,” you tried to give him a reason, but paused as you think of a better idea. “Fine, oh my mighty guitarist, teach me.” You said with a teasing smile, putting down your earphones on the floor.

Kayn couldn’t help but smirk at your playful challenge – or flattery, perhaps. Regardless, he settled on the carpet beside you, holding out his arms. “Guitar and the pick, please.”

You looked at him with a mischievous grin, not budging from your position with the guitar and pick in hand. He groaned in response, rolling his eyes. "I'm not going to take that and run away, come on.”

You chuckled. “Fine, fine,” you finally relented, handing the guitar and the pick to him. He huffed as he shifted over to sit closer to you, reaching over to gently take the guitar and pick from your hands. “Let’s start with the basics.”

He showed you the basics at first, demonstrating the proper way to hold the pick and how to strum gracefully across the strings. Your gaze flickered between his fingers and his face, noticing the rare seriousness that overtook his usually chaotic demeanor. You find this side of him actually cute, and you couldn’t help but admire the view.

He glanced back at you when he realized that your eyes were somewhat more focused at his face rather than his hands, with you smiling amusedly towards him.

“Are you even focusing?” He asked, his voice rough, in contrast to a tint of blush on his cheeks, slowly appearing.

You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his question, feeling a warmth spread through you at his bashful expression. "Of course I am," you replied, trying to hide your own amusement. "Just taking in all of your expert advice."

He rolled his eyes playfully, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Right, expert advice. Well, let's see if you've been paying attention," he teased, handing back the guitar and the pick to you.

You shifted your positioning as you began to practice the movements he told you on the guitar. You were going smoothly, until you stumbled into a trickier part of the technique he had just shown you. “Wait, how’s the chord finger positioning again?” You lifted your head to look at him, your left fingers desperately moving on the fretboard, trying to find the right strings to press.

“Yeah, paying attention all right…,” he sighed softly, his voice laced with a hint of amusement.

“Hey– ” you were going to protest, but he leaned forward, lifting his own hand to adjust your left fingers, guiding them to the right strings and frets. His touch was gentle yet firm, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth at the closeness between you two. Your heart began to race in your chest as you tried to focus on the lesson, but this somewhat sudden intimacy was pretty hard to ignore.

You glanced towards your left hand, trying to hide the blush that crept up your cheeks, but it was futile. When you looked up, you caught Kayn's gaze, his eyes sparkling with a mixture of mischief and something else. He noticed your attempt to conceal your reaction and smirked, a knowing glint in his eyes, although he did not make any comment whatsoever. The air between you seemed charged with an unspoken tension, both of you aware of the shift in dynamics.

“Right, thanks,” you managed to say, clearing your throat to mask your sudden shyness.

"Anytime," Kayn replied, his tone cool as he tried to shrug off the sudden tension.

You continued to play, feeling his gaze on you as you struggled to focus. The tension in the air was palpable, and it made it difficult for you to concentrate on the notes. Your fingers fumbled, the music turning into a jumbled mess, and you were getting more impatient. Kayn amusedly watched as you attempted to regain control, but it only seemed to spiral down further into chaos. Finally, you stopped midways.

“I give up,” you smiled, not matching your frustration in your eyes. “Here’s your guitar pick back.”

Kayn let out a chuckle seeing your reaction. “Giving up so soon, huh?” He teased you, a playful glint in his eyes. “That’s not really like you.”

You just gave him a slight hmph, already standing up to put the guitar on the sofa. He followed suit, standing up, smiling to himself.

"Next time, I'll show you. I'll get better," you declared confidently, picking up your phone from the ground. However, as you glanced up at him, you noticed him twirling your earphone case on his fingers.

“Of course, of course...,” he said nonchalantly before you suddenly went after him to catch his hand. He immediately lifted his hand out of your reach backwards, grinning.

You narrowed your eyes playfully, determination setting in as you tried to catch his hand. He evaded your attempts with ease, keeping the earphones just out of your reach.

“Kayn, I swear…” you stomped towards him. You were going to go for another attempt at catching his hand, but somehow – just somehow, your socks got caught on one of the cluttered items strewn across the room. You stumbled forward, letting out a yelp of surprise.

“Wh-Whoa,” Kayn exclaimed, trying to step back in reflex, but his feet hit another stack of old books and records. The two of you went tumbling to the ground in a tangled heap, with you ending up on top of him.

For a moment, there was silence as you both lay there, slightly dazed from the fall. Your head was resting on his chest, your hand inadvertently pinning his wrist to his side, the hand which was holding your earphones.

Hmm, his choice of perfume is really good – the subtle notes of musky-scented….

…Wait, now’s not the right time!

You immediately lifted yourself up – realizing it was not a good time to think about his nice perfume – only to face him directly below you. His other hand was still holding your waist as he stared at you, the closeness remained present. You both went into silence, the air heavy with tension. Your eyes locked with his, and for a moment, it felt like time stood still. Words seemed to get stuck in both of your throats, the unspoken question hanging between you.

Kayn slowly brought his hand up to your cheek, caressing it softly with his back of his hand. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the warmth of his hand, the rare softness of his touch melting you away. His thumb brushed lightly against your cheek, his eyes locked with yours.

Kiss her, Kayn. KISS HER!

Kayn could swear he heard Rhaast’s screaming at the back of his head. He tried his best to stay in control, although his breathing got more unsteady.

“Kayn…” you whispered his name, the word barely escaping your lips. You were ready to indulge into the moment when you heard a squealing voice from the direction of the door, interrupting you two.

You both looked up towards the door, only to find Ezreal and Aphelios standing near the doorframe, looking into the room, watching you two. Your eyes widened in surprise, and you immediately scrambled off from Kayn, who also frantically turned towards the unexpected visitors.

Aphelios shot a glare at Ezreal, seemingly disappointed at him for interrupting the moment. He then folded his arms and left without a word.

"Sorry..." Ezreal muttered, more like a squeal of apology, his palms clasped apologetically. He then hurriedly ran away, grabbing the pizza packages from the ground as he went.

Kayn groaned in frustration, his face utterly red as he tried to get up from his position on the floor. The interruption had brought you both back to reality, the heat of the moment dissipated by the unexpected intrusion.

"Uh, sorry about that," you said, trying to hide your own embarrassment as you helped Kayn up from the floor. You had completely forgotten that the door had been open this whole time.

He nodded, still visibly flustered. "Nah, it’s fine. I didn't expect... them to... interrupt," he managed to get out, his voice slightly shaky.

You both stood there awkwardly for a moment, the air filled with the remnants of the interrupted moment. But then, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you realized the absurdity of the situation.

"Well, that was... unexpected," you said with a laugh, breaking the tension.

Kayn chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, definitely not how I imagined this evening going."

You both shared a smile, the awkwardness slowly fading away. "Maybe we should... continue this another time?" Kayn suggested, trying to stay cool although his cheeks still flushed with pink.

You nodded in response, although you were not sure which part is he suggesting. "Yeah, I'd like that."

“Right…good,” he said. “Now, as for Ezreal…,” he grumbled as began to exit the room, clearly planning to give chase to his mischievous friend.

You couldn't help but laugh at the situation, enjoying the funny, chaotic dynamic between the members of the group. The memory of his touch on your cheek still lingered, as you smiled to yourself, before you realized that he hadn’t give your earphones back to you.

“…Oh, come on... Kayn, Wait! Come back here!”

#kayn x reader #heartsteel x reader #league of legends #heartsteel kayn #league of legends kayn #kayn x gn reader #league of legends x reader #heartsteel fluff #shieda kayn #kayn heartsteel #kayn league of legends #kayn lol

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sinner-sunflower · 6 months

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P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 2/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 24, PART 25, PART 26

Writing this while listening to Christian songs is my process lajsdlkajkld

You guys need to listen to the soundtrack of Journey to Bethlehem. What bangers and amazing pieces!

-------------------------------------------

Once they got inside, Charlie locks the hotel up using keekee.

Vaggie: You sure that will hold them up?

Charlie: Of course! Besides if any of them try to sneak in then I'm sure Razzle and Keekee will keep them out yes? Yeah? Awww yes you will~

Charlie gushes on her guardians for one more minute before moving close to where her dad was seated on the couch.

Charlie: You okay, dad?

Lucifer: I'm fine, sweetie. Just a little dizzy. I've been using that ability more in thebpast few months than I ever did for 10000 years. It's always draining.

Alastor has disappeared, probably in the kitchen making her dad tea.

Cherri: Not gonna lie. That was kinda hot.

Angel: Yeah. You gotta keep doing whatever that was when you can, short king. Preferably when I'm there to see it. You know, I give full consent for you to do that to me in be-

Charlie: Angel!

Angel: What?

Alastor: Do you never think before you speak, Angel?

Saved by the radio demon. Lucifer smirks as gladly accepts the tea handed to him.

Angel: I'm just here expressing my feelings, Al! And princess, didn't you say that was a redeeming quality.

Vaggie: You are so lucky Lucifer- uh sir- is not killing you on the spot.

Angel: Hehe sorry, handsome. Just a lil fun~

Lucifer chuckles at this. Charlie sure did find some funny individuals.

Lucifer: None taken, Angel. And Vaggie, I told you to stop calling me sir. Lucifer is fine, or if you want.. dad.

Vaggie blushed so so golden that she went to hide in her girlfriend's shoulders in embarrassment.

Vaggie: okay… Lucifer sir.

The King of Hell chuckles in amusement. Well, he'll take what he can get.

Someone clears their throat causing everyone to look at the source.

Lucifer: What is it, Satan?

Satan: As cute as this is, I think we need to discuss what happened earlier.

Lucifer: Can I say anything that will make you guys just drop it?

Various statements from All: Nope. No. Sorry, shorty. Nuh uh. I don't believe so, my dear.

He sighs.

Lucifer: Worth a shot.

When Lucifer doesn't make a move to speak, Charlie kneels before him to hold his hands in hers. There's ringing in his ears.

Charlie: Dad..

Fatherdamnit! Why is he so weak when it comes to his baby girl? He's the Devil for fucks sake and-

And… he's a father first.

Lucifer: It was my brother. Michael.

Everyone's eyes widened in shock except for the Sins. They knew who it was but what they want to know is why.

Angel: Woah woah woah! Like St. Michael the Archangel ?? From the Bible??

Lucifer: Angel, I'm from the Bible.

Angel: Oh yeah.

Charlie: Do you think this is about the last extermination?

Vaggie: But that was already a few months ago. If Heaven had a problem with what happened, I'm pretty sure that we'd hear from them much earlier. Unless..

Husk: It could be cos of the mess in the 7th ring?

Lucifer doesn't answer any of them again. Instead, he looks on to the Heaven shaped planet in the sky.

Asmodeus: Luci… is a war coming?

Lucifer: I can't answer that.

Liar. Why are you lying again? You know why Michael did that. They can help. They will listen!

Alastor: Cannot or won't, my Majesty?

He should've known Alastor will see right through him. Smiling prick.

Lucifer: Does it matter?

The demon's grin doesn't falter.

Alastor: I do not know, my King. Does it?

The faint ringing in his ears is getting louder. He can't ignore it for long.

He stands and dusts himself off.

Lucifer: I don't have time for this. I need to go to Heaven as soon as possible. Preferably right now.

Loud protests echoed in the hotel lobby as soon as he said it.

Alastor: Mon ange, let us not be too hasty.

Satan: Are you fucking kidding me?!

Leviathan: No way.

Mammon: So it is a war???

Ozzie: On your own?!

Bee: What if they kill you?? One of us will go with you.

Belphegor: At least take someone from the Ars Goetia. I'm sure Paimon would gladly give you a strong familiar.

Angel: I make stupid choices so I know this is stupid- ow! The hell, bitch??

Vaggie: Shut up, Angel. But they're right, Lucifer sir. And sorry but what brought this on?

Charlie: Let me come with you atleast.

That's it.

Lucifer: No!

That stopped the talking atleast.

Lucifer: I need to talk to Michael and I'm pretty sure he's not going to come down here. And no, I am not going to take anyone with me. It's too dangerous, Charlie. Don't worry, he's not gonna kill me up there. Just… I promise I'll explain what I can after but right now… I need to go

He can see the Sins about to argue again but he gave them the softest look he can muster and it did the trick because they all clammed up.

Lucifer: Do you trust me?

The look they give him makes him reminiscent the beginning. A time of nothing and all he had was Lilith and the newly born Sins. He sometimes forgets that they were still a lot younger than him and for a long time, he was all they got.

Satan: Of course.

He hopes the smile he gives them is reassuring enough. They melt into his hold as he rans a hand through their faces to cup them.

Lucifer: Good. Take care of my daughter and Hell, okay?

Finally appraoching Charlie and her friends, he draws small pentagrams that embedded themselves unto their skins.

Lucifer: These will act as a ward to anything that poses as a danger to you. Consider it a gift from me.

He locks eyes with Alastor and they form a silent agreement.

His deer takes his hand and bends down to kiss it.

Alastor: With my soul, my love.

Lucifer smiles and suddenly a golden flurry engulfs him, tranforming him back to what he originally looked like before Roo.

When Leviathan gave him a look, he waves in dismissal.

Lucifer: I don't need Michael or Heaven knowing about all this mess. As far as they're concerned, Roo never happened.

He calls upon Keekee, who turned into a key to open a golden portal. Vaggie can see that wherever he opened it, it wasn't the pearly gates of Heaven. It looked like… a room? And since when was Lucifer allowed to open any door in Heaven on his own? This is all suspicious if you ask her. But she bites her tongue.

Before the King could step in, he was grabbed by the arm. He looks back to see his daughter having a tight grip on his wrist.

Lucifer: Char-char?

Charlie: Come back, dad. Okay?

He wishes he just lived a normal life with his beloved little girl.

Lucifer: Promise…. Love you.

-----------------------------

Found the comic with the baby Sins thanks to user @s-arina!

Baby Sins Comic by aogs_47777

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peaky-shelby · 2 years

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New Romantics | Mbappé [4]

» summary: in which an arrogant and talented football player (the best of his time as some say) and a focused and harsh critic of a journalist are gonna have to find a way to co-exist.

« previous chapter

» chapter 5: everyday is like a battle

» Writer's note: every chapter will be separated in three parts (sort off). And every part will have each own song to listen to while reading. It's an attempt to get y'all in the emotion hehe. Enjoy reading xx

» Taglist: @moonchildohh @formulahoe @princetongirlll818 @mavieesttriste16 @kiwisa @godessstela @hummusxx @kodzuvk @pink-manz @corbyns-smile @ippid @jayruiewo265738 @blueanfield @mrs-bellingham @sorceresski @sooblovebot @okayymochi @army7g @j-rbps @heli991113 @markhyucksmells @chaotic-taco-collector-blog @i0veless

I was scared of pretty girls and starting conversations...

FRENCH BAR - NIGHT

“They are always using the same starting 11” she drew on the napkin, the paper getting slightly torn apart as she’d write on it. She had a made a sketch of what looked like a small field and drew 22 small circles on it, 11 on either side, representing each team. Then over the circles she’d write the names of the players. “That makes it easy to know how the game will play out.”

She was in the middle, sitting in between Ektike, Ramos, Burnet, Neymar, Hakimi and Kylian. Everyone was looking at her sketches, especially Ektike who was sitting next to her. Kylian was sometimes glancing at it but he was trying to look like he didn’t care much about what she had to say. “They are weak at defending their set pieces-“ she made an arrow from on circle to another “which allows you guys to move freely on the field-“

“But they foul a lot. And they foul hard.” Jumped in Neymar who was sitting on her other side. He pointed at one of the circles “He’s ruthless.”

“So, use that in your favor. They have a habit of fouling on dangerous areas.” She explained. “That alone creates a lot of chances for you.”

“You expect us to stay there and let ourselves get fouled then?” asked Kylian, leaning forward on the table. He was testing her. Hakimi was observing, expecting another round of comebacks and insults to begin.

“I expect you to be smart. If they want to be reckless and stupid and foul you right outside of the box then that’s on them” she smiled “it’s what I did to Verratti today. He could have chosen to pull back, pass the ball over to his teammate but he wanted to go against me so instead his chose to kick the ball on his right leg- he didn’t calculate his injury. Reckless and stupid.”

Kylian didn’t answer but he kept his eyes on her as the rest of the boys continued to listen to her pointers. She turned the napkin the other way, writing down all the weaknesses she had supposedly journal through the season about ANGERS and their approach. Most of the boys seemed to humor her, even agree with her. That’s when he realized two things. First was that she and her boss hadn’t analyze only his career down to the tiniest of detail but she was like a hard disk. She knew the stats of all the players, ready to answer with numbers at any question. How had she memorized all that information without burning her brain cells? Second thing was that the girl had written and sketched out the strategy for an entire match on a napkin. A freaking napkin that someone would come and throw away. It didn’t surprise him anymore that JW had sent her in Paris instead of coming himself. He started seeing her true potential, the reason Marcos and Galtier trusted her as much as they did and he was even more intimidated by it. So, he kept his mouth shut and casually observed the way she was slowly adapting around the members of the team. Even Ektike had began taking a liking at her and Ramos was more friendly than the others.

“You don’t have a favorite player?” Neymar stretched his hand behind her on the booth, leaning closer. Kylian watched them getting closer from the corner of his eye. Taylor put her hand on his face to push him away from her personal space.

“Hoping to hear your name junior?” The boys laughed. Neymar admitted defeat and pulled back. “I don’t because my job is to not be biased.”

“JW taught you that?” Asked Burnet. She got nervous at the question and nodded quickly.

“Yes. That and everything I know.” She motioned at the napkin. Kylian caught her expression changing like she was anxious about something all of a sudden.

“Looks to me like you know a little more than him” Hakimi said while snatching some chips from the middle of the table. Kylian gave him the side eye, was he warming up to her as well? “I mean you’re basically a walking Wikipedia. Does he even pay you enough for what you do?”

She laughed to hide her anxiety. No one else was laughing though, so she choked it, coughing to regain her composure. “Um... he’s- I wouldn’t be half of what I am without him.” In a way it was true. JW was someone she used to be, someone that wasn’t fainting after the first half and that could get brutal if she wanted to. JW was who she would have been if she hadn’t been cursed by life.

“Does he even play ball the way you do?” Ramos asked. She scoffed again, looking away, avoiding making eye contact with any of them.

“He’s a great player. Better than me.” She answered, keeping her voice steady. She looked up, her eyes finding Ramos “He’s… he used to play professionally, like you. He was a great talent.” She smiled weakly “but life happened and unfortunately, he had to let go of the sport. So, he tried to find a different way to be involved.”

“A very annoying way.” Said Ektike, drinking his beer. They started laughing again, complaining about the articles that JW had written about then in the past. Kylian didn’t, which his own friend, Hakimi, thought was very weird of him. When everyone else was occupied paying the bills or trying to at least because Ramos wasn’t gonna let Taylor pay for her drinks, Hakimi leaned closer to Kylian who was focused on his beer bottle. He kept scratching on the label, taking the sticker out.

“You know, You’re the one that invited her.” He told him, low enough so only he would hear. Kylian raised his eyes, he glanced at Hakimi and then at the girl who was getting up, getting ready to leave. He never answered to his friend’s comment. He got up as well, wearing his jacket, he neared Taylor, his hand touching the small of her back. She flinched at the contact, turning to face him and he pulled his hand away quickly, instantly regretting touching her. She examined him, suspiciously. He slipped his hands in his pockets, clearing his throat.

“You need a ride?” he asked but his tone was cold despite the offer like he wanted her to refuse.

“Ramos already offered” she answered. A sudden relief washed over him but at the same time… regret?

“Actually-“ Ramos was looking at the GPS on his phone, tracking the way to her house “Ky’s house is on the way to yours. I’d have to go out of my way.” He explained “maybe its best.”

Kylian looked down at her, accepting his fate. She seemed to accept it as well, nodding. After everyone said their goodbyes, Kylian and her made their way to his car. She felt weird just by sitting on the passenger seat. It was an expensive car, just like the bar she had spent the last couple of hours in. She wasn’t used to that, she never made big money from football, never had this sort of life and it began to dawn on her how her life was changing. Hanging around millionaires and basically celebrities. More than 10 people had come up to their table tonight, asking for autographs and pictures, especially from Kylian. The same Kylian that was now driving her to her apartment and who had deliberately turned the music on the radio so he wouldn’t have to talk to her. Every time she thought that he was warming up to her, he would shut her out in seconds like he was blaming her for all his insecurities. She tried to find a subject, something that had nothing to do with football, maybe about Ann. But she stopped herself before she said anything, every time. She didn’t try to make a conversation, she didn’t want to have another fight with him, she was too tired for that and no matter their relationship he was still driving her home. That was decent of him. Although she did wish he’d let her learn more about that side of him, instead of always getting so mean and abrupt.

Kylian was thinking the same in a sort of way. He wanted to make conversation, he wanted to follow the plan that he had set with Verratti and get close to her but he didn’t know how. He couldn’t stop himself from getting defensive around her, especially when they were talking about football. So, silence settled around them, an uncomfortable kind of silence that not even the radio could make better.

He stopped at a red light. His eyes scanning the roads and the stores on the sidewalks. That’s when he saw a pet shop, he looked away quickly but the idea had already gotten in his head. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking about it. He looked at her, she had no idea. She was staring out her window but she hadn’t seen it. He smiled, why was he smiling? He forced his features to get serious. He failed, after a few seconds he was smiling again. He looked at the store, biting is lip as the idea in his head was getting louder. When the light turned green, he started the engine and drove, stopping in front of the store. The sudden stop made her worried, she gave him a weary look while he was unbuckling his belt. He nodded at the store behind her, signaling her to look. She did but she glanced back at him just as quick, still confused.

“Promised I’d get you food, right?” he explained and got out of the car before she could stop him. She laughed at his actions in disbelief. She observed as he entered the store, taking out his wallet, picking out a bag with cat food and giving it to the cashier, then he paid and picked it up again. Coming out and back to her. He entered the car, sitting next to her and handed her the bag. All she could manage to do was stare at him, her mouth open in shock as she held the bag in her hands. She kept glancing back and forth at him and the cat food. Her scoffs turned to chuckles, the corners of his mouth turned up when he heard her laughing like that and he started the car again.

She drew her lower lip between her teeth, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.” She leaned back on her seat and he laughed. He glanced quickly at her, then back at the street. “Is this some sort of peace offering?”

He pouted his lips, his hand falling on the side as he thought about it. “Is it working?”

“I mean it would have gone terribly wrong if Luna wasn’t actually a cat-“ she tried but he started laughing before she even finished the sentence.

“Somehow I never feared that-“

She smacked him on the shoulder. The way she’d smack her friends. He pretended to be hurt by the contact, pulling away from her. Silence returned to the car after a few more giggles but this time it was sweeter, it was easy. She gazed at the streets of Paris, she was slowly accepting that this would eventually be her new home and the guy sitting next to her was her co-worker, someone she’d spent hours on end with.

“I don’t hate you; you know?” he said and she wished she had recorded it. At first, she thought that she heard wrong and she wanted him to say it again but then he said something that sounded more like him “I really don’t like your boss-“ She sneered, looking away. The irony was too much for her but she didn’t say anything. “But I think you’re smart… sometimes.”

She scrunched up her face, almost smiling “Good to know”

He stopped the car as they reached her apartment building.

“Thank you for the ride and you know… not driving me off a cliff” she said, earning another laugh from his.

“Thank you for not poising my drink, even though I’d deserve it.”

“Truth is I tried, Hakimi just stopped me multiple times.”

That cracked him up, he leaned his body forwards as his chest vibrated with laughter. She laughed along with him. They had to take a few deep breaths before they both managed to collect themselves. They would still let out small laughs, that were coming out as whispers, unable to hold back their smiles. He turned his head to face her, his eyes falling on her. He noticed she had a tiny mark of a scar just over her eyebrow. He noticed small things about the side of her face, her sharp cheekbones, her lines. He looked away when she gazed at him, he didn’t want her to know he had been staring. She reached for his shoulder, a move he didn’t expect but he looked at her tiny palm on his board shoulder before connecting his eyes with hers.

“Can I give you an advice without you lashing out at me?”

He thought about it but eventually nodded.

“Be more of yourself on the field. Don’t let insecurities take over you. You don’t have to prove you’re great, we already know you are. You just have to play.” She raised the bag he bought for her and smiled “thanks again” she said and exited the car.

But the secret is still my own. And my love for you is still unknown

TAYLOR'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

She ran upstairs to her apartment, the cat coming and curling at her feet the minute she got inside the small apartment. Taylor smiled down and knelt to pet her, rubbing he ear as she poured in her palm “Got you a surprise.” She sang and shook the bag in front of the little kitten. She put a handful of the food on the cat’s bowl and saved the rest on the cupboard under the sink. She had a shower, washed her face and drank her pills. She poured herself a bowl of cereal and sat on her bed, eating them while staring threateningly on her computer screen. She had opened a blank page, a blank page that she was supposed fill. She started multiple sentences after setting down her ball on the nightstand but she kept erasing them. Starting over again and again and again. She tried to use music to get her mind working, listening to Jennifer Owens. The song “Alone” played on the background, and she started tapping on the keyboard, hoping to get her inspiration flowing but it was worthless. It was like she couldn’t gather her thoughts on one paragraph. She didn’t even know where to begin. Was she supposed to write about today’s training game? Talk about her encounter with the young fan? She just stared on the blank box, waiting for an article to write it’s self. Time would pass and the page would remain empty. Why was she struggling so much? She huffed and laid her head back on the pillow, rubbing her eyes together. Luna crawled up in bed and up to her chest. Pouring in between her chest, taylor uncovered her eyes to see the cat and pouted.

“I think I’m in trouble.” She admitted but the only thing the cat did was lean closer and down to her neck, closing her eyes and sleeping on her skin. She petted the cat, her fingers diving in her black fur. She smiled. “Yeah, you don’t care, do you? Of course, you don’t. you’re just a cat.” She laughed, remembering her discourse with Kylian. She could feel her cheeks burning up, turning red but she waved him off her mind and got up to start writing while everyone else in Paris was asleep, the way lonely people do.

KYLIAN'S HOUSE / BEDROOM - NIGHT

Kylian on the other side of Paris, in a whole different apartment, wide and modern, he sat on the edge of his bed. The view from his window was beautiful, the city lights, the streets, the houses, everything seemed so small from where he was. Even the Eiffel Tower looked small in the distance. He kept replaying the last thing she told him on his head. Surprised at himself that he never responded to her. He laid backwards, closing his eyes. His phone buzzed and the screen lit up next to him on the mattress, showing his father’s face appearing on his screen. He picked it up.

“Oui papa?”

“Kylian, es-tu prêt pour demain?” [are you ready for tomorrow?]

Kylian closed his eyes, his expression saddening. What happened to asking people if they were ok when calling. “Oui.” He answered.

“Tu t'es suffisamment entraîné?” [did you train enough?]

He sighed, moving the phone away from his ear while his father went on and on about every single thing he did wrong on the last match and how he should avoid doing the same mistakes again. A part of him wanted to hang up. Maybe even throw the phone out of the window “Kylian? Kylian? Tu m'écoutes?” Kylian moved the phone back to his ear, his eyes remaining closed.

“Oui, papa. Mais je suis très fatigué. Nous parlerons demain, d'accord?... Oui, moi aussi, Pa. Bonne Nuit.” He threw the phone across the mattress the minute his father hanged up. The usual silence filled the room, the silence of lonely people. He covered his face with his hands, dragging them across his face and he fell asleep after a while his body giving in that silence and the soft mattress. He fell asleep with his clothes, with his worries on the back of his head, with her laugh echoing in his mind and his father’s pointers. You know, the way that lonely people do.

They both woke up at the same time by their alarms, in different bed and different rooms. Taylor had fallen asleep with her computer on her chest and when she woke up, she already had a headache. Kylian woke up in the same clothes, with a slight neck pain because he never moved to lay his head on the pillow. No matter the differences and the miles away from each other, each in their bedroom as they opened their eyes the same words slipped out of their lips “It’s game day.”

Taylor jumped out of her bed, the cat getting scared and tangled in the sheets, the computer almost falling on the ground before she dropped herself and reached her hand to stop it from crashing “oh my god” she mouthed to herself and put the computer back on the bed. She ran around her small apartment, bumping on the walls and stuff that she had left on the floor. It was a messy apartment to say the least. in the bathroom, washing her face and her teeth and then went to her kitchen to make coffee. While the coffee was brewing and her the bread was getting toasted, she grabbed her jeans, putting them on quickly and stumbling, falling on the ground. She got up fast, looking in her closet for a shirt. “What am I supposed to wear-“ her phone began ringing. That’s when she realized it was under the sheets so she started throwing them around, looking under them in panic until she found it under her pillow “Yes?” she answered. “Yes, coach I’m on my way.” She reassured him. From the corner of her eye, she caught her cat getting near the Kettle, smelling it. She tried to keep her composure until Galtier hanged up, her eyes opening wide and she ran to pull the cut away from the burning machine “You’re gonna burn your mustache!” she yelled. The cat meowed, asking for food. She leaned her forehead on the cat, shaking her head. “What’s the worst thing that can happen right?” Luna meowed again.

Kylian’s morning was calmer. He moved around his large apartment slowly, from his bathroom to his kitchen. Everything was on their rightful place; the floors were clean and the white color on the walls and the minimalist decorations were a huge contrast to Taylor’s space. He sat on the table, slowly sipping on his coffee. The slight domestic sounds were the only thing you could hear. He’d scroll on his phone, see a couple of tweets, like pictures on Instagram, answer a few messages. He was calm, used to these mornings. The calm before the storm he called them.

TRAINING CAMPUS / OFFICES – DAY

Taylor rushed up to Galtier’s office, holding all her folders and her papers in her arms and her laptop hanging on it’s bag from her shoulder. When she came in Galtier was on the phone so she looked around awkwardly, wondering if she could leave the folders on the chair or the table. She slowly tried to place them on his desk before the fell over but Galtier stood up, yelling on his phone, which scared her and she pulled back quickly, tripping and falling on the chair behind her, hugging the papers so they wouldn’t fall off her hands. She pretended like she actually meant to sit down, trying to look composed. Galtier threw his phone on the table when he hanged up, cursing in friends. He sat back down like nothing had just happened and looked at her. It took her a while before she got the memo and placed all the papers on his desk.

“These are from yesterday’s conference with ANGERS. I tried to gather everything they said in a couple of pages-“ she handed him two papers. He took them, scanning them back and forth but he wasn’t reading them. “They are certainly trying to provoke but I think it’s because they are scared. They have the same starting 11 as we expected-“

“Were you at the conference?” he asked, looking at her. Her shut in a tight line, she thought about his question, then started shaking her head slowly.

“No sir. I got the interviews online.”

“I want you to be on every conference from now on.”

She nodded “Yes sir.”

“What else do you have for me?”

“I made up my suggestion for the starting 11.” She slipped a paper towards him “An analysis of the approach I think we should follow-“

“You’re nervous.” She stopped, her eyes getting bigger. She didn’t respond. “I can promise you the boys are more nervous than you are. If you wanna do this job you have to learn to be brutal not just on paper but on the field as well. You can’t be looking like you’re going to throw up.”

She gulped, tried to calm her features and her expression to look calmer “I’m sorry sir. It’s just the nerves of the first match.”

“The players will get here at 5, the bus will leave at 6 so we can be on the stadium by 7. I expect you to have gotten your nerves under control until then.” He said and waved for her to get out of the office. She wanted to crawl and hide in a hole. Instead she jut founded the nearest corner and leaned her body against the wall, closing her eyes.

“What am I doing?” she whispered to herself, rubbing her eyes. She looked at her clock, realizing she only had a few hours to finish her pregame article. She went to the kitchen, opening the laptop and began writing. Pregame articles on her website were one of her favorite things to do, she’d write about where she saw the game going and making her predictions. She started writing a sentence about her low belief in Kylian, how she hoped that he would finally get back to the great player he was before the world cup but began feeling this regret in her chest. Like she was doing something wrong. And she didn’t feel that only for Kylian but for all the boys she had grown close to in the last couple of days. She read the whole article ones; she wasn’t happy with it. She wasn’t as harsh with the boys as she should have. Why had she let herself get as close to them? a few seconds later Neymar and Hakimi came in.

“Ola Princessa” called Neymar when he saw her and walked over to her, leaning on the table to peck her kiss in a teasing and flirtatious way. She pulled back quickly. He frowned at her reaction but didn’t say anything. He went to the fridge to get himself a water bottle. Hakimi sat next to her while she tried to keep her distance from him.

“What are you writing?” She closed the top of her computer before he got a glimpse of her writing. Hakimi raised his eyebrows. “All good?”

“Perfect.” She answered and got up, getting her computer with her. She headed for the exit of the kitchen when she bumped on Kylian who was walking in at the same moment. He reached for her arms to stop her before the crashed on each other.

“Careful where you going, can you?” She looked up at him. Ignored his comment and walked past him “Your boss won’t post his pregame predictions?” she stopped on her tracks, grasping on the computer “I was excited-“ Kylian got an apple from the basket taking a bite. “Stayed up to read it last night.”

She turned her body to face him, forcing a smile on her lips “he’d tell you it’s very unprofessional to stay up late before a match. I truly hope it doesn’t influence your playing.” His face fell, he kept the apple in between his teeth while glaring at her. She gave him another smile, turned back on her way. He finally bit on his apple swallowing the piece aggressively.

“What did you do?” Asked Hakimi, standing next to his friend.

“Nothing!” Kylian defended “I even bought her cat food” Hakimi’s eyebrows drew together and Kylian was quick to explain “she actually has a cat- it wasn’t for her. I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.”

On the ride to the stadium Taylor was sitting alone at the front, while the boys were basically throwing a party on the back. She could feel Galtier’s eyes on her, studying her. It was making her skin itch. She still hadn’t posted that article. Before the game the team gathered on the locker room, Galtier was in the middle making on of his speeches and motivating the team. She was standing by the door, arms crossed on her chest as she listened. Kylian gazed at her while she wasn’t looking, he got so carried away at some point he stopped listening to Galtier, he was just watching her. When the motivational speech was over, she left them to get dressed.

“Do you have a spare bottle?” asked Hakimi, looking inside Kylian’s bag.

“Yeah-“

“Dude what is this?” Hakimi pulled out a napkin. It was the napkin Taylor had made her notes on. Kylian grabbed it and threw it back on his bad, picking out a water bottle for his friend and zipping the bag closed. Hakimi laughed and grinned at his friend but didn’t say anything.

Taylor sat on the benches watching at her team. Her team. God that sounded weird but they were in a way, weren’t they? The game started, figures running and chasing a ball or chasing each other. She wanted to run in there and help the team as well. When she saw Neymar shooting an awful pass at Burnet she yelled and jumped up from the benches.

“HEY! LOOK WHERE YOU ARE SHOOTING JUNIOR”.

Galtier looked at her outburst and she was expecting him to tell her to shut up but he smiled. That made her feel better. Ektike scored at the first 10 minutes, giving them a head start. She jumped in excitement and threw herself on Galtier. Galtier remained still and she pulled back quick, looking away. She was starting to get really into the game and she wanted to yell even more but she had to hold herself, reminding herself that the team still saw her as just a journalist. It was when she started giving pointers at Marquinhos that Messi gave her a confused look, watching her from the other side of the field. She realized she was getting out of control so she sat back down and put her hand over her mouth. Then she saw him. He was running with the ball in his feet, kicking it towards the opponents, he was going to score. She leaned forward in excitement, ready to jump and celebrate until he was tackled on his ankle, twisting it and tumbling on the grass right outside the penalty area. She got up rushing as close as she could get, her feet almost crossing the white line. She tried to see him but he was crowded by the rest of the team and the medics. Meanwhile Marquinhos was discussing with referee, arguing about whether it was a penalty or not. Half the stadium was yelling yes and the other half was yelling no. Her eyes were stuck on the man in yellow, waiting to see him signaling and whistling in favor of her team but-

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” She yelled when the penalty was denied “THAT WAS CLEARLY ON THE AREA”. She made a step forward and was pulled back immediately by Ramos. Who wrapped her arms around her and basically picked her up to keep her out of the field.

“You don’t wanna do that chipmunk-“ he warned. Marquinhos and Messi were still arguing with the referee. She could feel her blood boiling- she took a deep angry breath, her entire face pouting. She walked back at the bench, biting on nails. Kylian was escorted out of the field for his injury. She didn’t go up to talk to him but she saw him with his father. Like his dad was reprehending him and he had this look in his eyes, like he was giving up. She felt heart getting heavy on the sight. She looked away.

At some point during the final minutes another foul happened, this time at Neymar and close to her side of the field. But the opponents were never given a card, this time she didn’t hold herself, stepping forward over the line and yelling-

“FUCKING PAID IDIOT OF A REFEREE-“

The man in yellow turned to look at her confused and offended. “Excuse me?” he questioned.

“Two wild fouls and you do nothing about it-“

“Settle your tone young lady-“ oh no he didn’t-

Ramos was now next to Taylor, standing in between her and the referee “Taylor get back” he warned.

But taylor looked over his shoulder on her tip toes and pointed at the referees. Things got quickly out of hand “DON’T YOU FUCKING TELL ME WHAT TO DO WITH MY TONE YOU PIECE OF SHIT-“

Kylian saw the chaos unfolding before his eyes. He got up and along with the rest of the team got near her, swarming around her like ants. Half of them were trying to reason with the referee while the other half was pulling her back. But she would slap their hands off and kick her legs to be let go while she cursed and yelled. Kylian squeezed himself in between the other, trying to hold her arm because he knew what was coming and sure enough a moment later the referee raised a yellow card at her for her attitude and creating trouble in the middle of the game.

“WHY DON’T YOU TAKE THAT CARD AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR-“

“WILOCK ENOUGH!” Galtier yelled. She stopped immediately. The referee glared at her while walking backwards to get back on the middle of the field. Her eyes burned with anger while all the players returned to their position. When everyone was gone Kylian tried to get close, he reached for her arm, she slapped it off so he raised his hands up in surrender. He wanted to laugh. She looked like a little girl who had just been stolen her favorite doll, it took his mind off the chaos in his mind. The regret of getting injured and the anger. She turned her back on him and walked back on the benches sitting as far away from him as she could. She put her elbows on her legs, balanced her face on her hands and puffed.

He tilted his head, taking a note of how her cheeks and nose got red when she was angry and how messy her hair was now. Her lips shaped in a angry pout. She looked… cute.

This house no longer feels like home.

STADIUM LOCKER ROOMS - NIGHT

Despite the incident with the referee the team won and they all celebrated in the locker room. Hugging and cheering for each other. Everyone commented about Taylor’s outburst, laughing at her.

“Thought we had a second coach there for a while.” Messi said while she was pouring herself another glass of champagne. Taylor gazed up to his, her mouth slightly opening. She wanted to tell him the truth.

“Would you like that? A woman as a coach?”

Messi laughed. She immediately regretted her question but then “Greatest coach I had in life was my mother. Why not?” he smiled at her, poking her shoulder and walking away. She thought about what he said, getting some encouragement. She let down the champagne bottle and turned around. Marquinhos had been standing behind her, a smile on his face. She felt embarrassed. He game and sat next to her both leaning on the edge of the table behind them while the watched at the rest of team. They didn’t say anything for a while, she wasn’t sure if she should apologize or not.

“That was ballsy” he suddenly said and she looked up at him.

“You think I’m gonna be in trouble with Galtier?”

“No… I’ll talk to him.” She nodded, drank from her glass. “You’re already prepared to go to war for them. That’s good.”

“That or I just hate paid referees.” He laughed, his chest vibrating. “Possibly both.”

“They’re gonna warm up to you if you keep going like that.” He said “It’s a matter of time before they trust you. Even the cynics. Just remember your job is not just to go war for them or… push them to their limit in order for them to give you, their best. Galtier can do that…” His eyes fell on her and she looked in his “Sometimes you just gotta be there for them”

She studied around the room, counting her soldiers. There were two missing, the broken one and his loyal friend. Kylian and Hakimi.

STADIUM ROOF TOP – NIGHT

Kylian stood by the marble walls, leaning on them. He watched down at the now empty streets. A few hours ago, crowds were yelling for his team, now they were all gone. He looked at the sky and stars, while the chilling air hit his face. He never went downstairs with the rest of team to celebrate, he and Hakimi stayed on the rooftop and Hakimi had just left. So, he was alone. He liked it that way, he could run the game through on his mind, all the things he missed and did wrong. He glanced back when he heard the door opening, that’s when he saw her, dressed in a jersey and her jeans. He rolled his eyes and looked back at the sky “You’ll freeze to death.”

“Didn’t think you’d mind” she said, cuddling herself and rubbing her arms.

“you’re right I don’t.”

She ignored his comment “why don’t you come downstairs? We are gonna head back in a little while.”

“I’m fine up here.”

“You don’t wanna celebrate?” she went closer, standing next to him but he kept his eyes on the empty streets.

“Got nothing to celebrate.”

“Our team just won-“

“Our?” he asked, almost laughing “since when is it our team Ms. I don’t want to be biased-“

“That’s not fair. You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t and frankly I don’t care. Half the reason I played shit today was you-“

“Excuse me?”

He motioned his hands, annoyed at her “you suggested we let ourselves get fouled in dangerous areas-“

“You have to be joking-“ she raised her voice.

“Why don’t you go tell your boss about that before he writes his next goddamn article-“

“What is wrong with you?” she yelled. Her body warming up just by the frustration “I’m reaching out for you- I’m trying to help and every time I think I’m getting somewhere you turn into a dick-”

“You bring it out to me, what can I do.” He shot back, his face holding a dark expression. She let out a bitter breath and decided to turn her back on him, heading towards the door then she stopped. No, she thought, he wasn’t getting away with this.

“You know the issue with you is that you choose to be an asshole. You could be a good person but you choose to limit yourself to other people’s opinions time after time after time- what happened to you?” she cried but he didn’t turn to face her, despite her tone. He bit on the inside of his cheek while she spoke, holding his hands in tight fists to control his anger “You played against 11 men by yourself. You played against Argentina by yourself while the rest of your team was sipping tea and looking at the weather-“

“Don’t talk about my team like that-“ he growled

“I’ll talk about them any way I want because it is the truth.” She got closer “you were by yourself in that game and You scored three goals in one fucking game-“

“Two of which were penalties as your boss and everyone else loves to point out-“ he yelled back, turning to face her and waving his hand “so don’t you fucking give me that speech because even that wasn’t enough to satisfy him- or them” she stepped back while he got closer, not because she was scared but because she was worried, he’d stop talking If went close enough and she really wanted him to keep talking. “I could score 5 goals against Messi himself and it still wouldn’t be enough no matter what I do. It’s never perfect and it’s the same thing over and over again ever since I got back from Qatar- the same articles, the same headlines, the same struggle to live up their expectations.” It seemed he had gotten everything out of his chest. She could guess who ‘they’ was and she knew one of them was probably his own father, who had coached him for most of his life. She caught herself feeling sorry for him, she caught herself wanting to hug him but she chose to stand still. Say nothing. Do nothing and she studied his face while his facial expression was turning from angry to regretful. Regret for telling her all these things. She didn’t know how long they had been staring at each other but she started trembling, shaking from the cold.

He noticed it.

“Get inside before you turn to ice.” He said, trying to look and sound like he didn’t care at all and turned his back on her again. Leaning on the marbles just like he had before, grasping his hands together, expecting her to leave. He didn’t even sense her getting closer, not until she placed her hand on his. Her cold, small hand on his. His eyes shot up to find hers immediately. Her eyes reflecting his sorrow, he thought there was more in them, hidden emotions and words that she wouldn’t say but perhaps it was all in his mind.

“Humans they do that. They see someone better than them, someone they fear and they try to humanize him by setting him up with impossible expectations. They did it to gods and they do it each other. It’s not about you, it’s about them.” Her hand gripped tighter on his just for a few seconds and he could feel it trembling against his skin, searching for warmth, just as she went to pull away, he looked down and put his other hand above hers, rubbing it to give it some warmth. When he gazed up at her face again her rosy lips had began to lose their color. He pulled away and unzipped his jacket, putting over her and her exposed arms, she tried to shake it off but he didn’t care.

He fixed the collar, her eyes studying him while he made sure she was appropriately covered by the cold and meeting his when he lowered his head. And then… silence. Stillness. Warmth. His hands settled on her shoulders while they stared in each other’s eyes. An unfamiliar itch on her throat. An unfamiliar feeling on his chest or maybe all too familiar.

“Go inside” he whispered. “don’t want you freezing to death before the next game.” He paused, she thought he was going to say something nice “seeing you getting a yellow card was really satisfying- “

She cracked up, laughing and he forced a kind smile on his lips. “I knew you’d enjoy that.” She said and his hands fell from her shoulders on her arms, rubbing them for a few seconds before he moved away from her. “If you stay here, you’ll freeze.”

“I’ll be down in a second.” He reassured her and she nodded. She went to take off his jacket but he raised his hand “You’ll give it to me downstairs.” He said and she smiled but she didn’t move. He scoffed, shaking his head “you wanna say something what is it? Another advice?”

“it’s my best one yet. Works on everyone.” She reached for his arm, giving it a squish “go on vacation before you drive yourself insane.” He laughed and she gave him one last nod before she walked away, getting inside the warm building. He returned to his previous position admiring the stars but his mind kept wandering back to her. He heard the door opening and he thought it was her again, a smile appearing on his lips which quickly faded away when he saw Verratti standing in front of him.

“How’s it going? Is the plan working?”

He wasn’t sure what he meant at first, then he remembered. He closed his eyes and nodded quickly “yeah bro, I’m getting close.”

“for a while I thought you started taking a liking at her.”

He laughed “no of course not.” Right? "

HE KEPT THE FREAKING NAPKIN 😭😭😭😭😭 so after everyone basically said that they prefer longer chapters i decided to give you what you want and chapters will usually he as long as this one. Especially now that things yk are getting heated. Kylian trying to hide his feelings like PLSSS. Im having so much writing this story and i hope you're all still following and enjoying it as much as mee. Pls pls comment your thoughts and your feedback, it Is always hiiiighly appreciated. I love Youuuu💜💜💜 do you like me adding the songs btw? Or do you think it's too much?

Next chapter »

#kylian mbappe #mbappe imagines #mbappé #mbappe #mbappe x reader #mbappe x oc #neymar one shot #neymar imagines #neymar jr #neymar x reader #football writing #football imagine #football requests #lionel messi one shot #fan fiction #Spotify

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yuikomorii · 1 year

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The day tumblr stans will stop being chronically online is the day I will finally like this fandom. Goofy aah people think their opinions matter?

Last year everyone adored Ayato on this platform but after a certain ahem cult ahem of people joined, I can sense they’re secretly having beef with Ayato and are sending mean anons to Ayato fans for some jealousy reason.

Granted he is not my personal best boy but he’s DiaLovers’ best boy for a fact and the hype he started getting is pretty much deserved. In a series of games that’s a bit dead, I’m glad he’s able to keep it relevant not only for the DiaLovers fans. Don’t mind delulus saying bad things about him, those only exist on this platform anyway and are just seeking for attention and approval from random strangers.

// Tbh, I’m disappointed but not surprised. Unfair and two-faced people are everywhere and if they truly spend their time in that manner, you can already see how miserable their lives must be.

I believe that the Ayato hate train began with Youngblood and picked up steam this year after the release of the Meow Meow vampire art. Many people made fun of Ayato's appearance and blamed him for FaVoRiTiSm , despite the fact that everyone in Japan adored him there. I don't know why, but the DL Tumblr fandom is completely out of touch with everything DL-related. They have no idea that Rejet simply creates Ayato content as a marketing ploy; in fact, Japanese fans are literally the ones who request it. In 2020, Ayato was stated as fans’ top choice and got invited as a co-star with a national idol at Nino-san, which was broadcasted on the second largest television corporation in Japan. If people hadn’t recommended him so much, he wouldn’t have ended up there… it’s not that hard to understand.

This has the same vibe as those kpop fans who always complain about how their ult group is underrated but don’t even stream their songs, instead they spend their time criticizing bigger groups for what??

I’m not forcing anyone to love Ayato but at least give me good reasons to dislike him. I understand not liking ALL Diaboys but isn’t it hilarious how some people would give you a litany of reasons why they can't stand Ayato, but when you look at their bias, he did the same (or worse) things as (than) Ayato? If you truly dislike those actions, at least pick a side, lol. I honestly don’t hate any Diaboy (though I don’t agree with their behavior all the time) but even if I did, I wouldn’t throw shade at that one character out of the blue only to piss of his stans.

And I swear, it's incredibly annoying how some people would tear Ayato down when asked about their favorite character/ship/route, etc., even though he has absolutely NOTHING to do with the question or he isn’t even the main topic of the question. Saying things like, "Yeah, I like this character because, unlike Ayato (just an example hehe)—" or "No hate towards Ayato but — *proceeds to mischaracterize and hate on him*" are examples of uncalled hate speech. Literally why use HIM most of the time as an example when talking about negative things?? At this point that’s not even a coincidence anymore, but a pattern, which is truly giving fan behavior.

Such people are really the worst. Reminds me of how some fans still think it’s okay commenting stuff like “This is great but I don’t like *inserts thing the OP obviously likes*” or “Not trying to be mean but *starts being mean*”. Respectfully, who even asked for your opinion? Mind your own business and learn basic etiquette.

#admin

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fatuismooches · 1 year

Note

I'M GIGGLING SO HARD LOOKIGN AT WHAT I CAUSED JUST BY SAYING YOU NEED TO WASH DOTTORE😭😭

But this also gave me a brainrot aboit bathing with harbingers

YES PANTALONE IS A RICH BASTARD and uses tons of skin and hair caring products. He enjoys being taken care of and will do the same in return, that's a fair exchange. Just wash his hair and listen to him complaining about his co-workers asking for budget raise for 10th time this month I think he's very stressed and tired by the end of the day, he might even doze off right in bath, since it's warm here and you gently stroke his hair (he looks cute-but wake him up please or he'll end up with sore neck)

Columbina gives me vibe of a person, who uses a lot of silly stuff, like bath bombs or salt. She's playful and will splash you, which will turn into a war with water being all over the floor (poor people who'll have to clean it up..). She's another one to possibly fall asleep in bathtub, so wake her up too. She also sings in shower

We should stop slandering only Dottore, bc Childe is also a type of person to give you a biiig hug, while covered in blood. But, well, he's easier to get to wash himself. Like Bina, he's also playful and will summon small water animals to entertain both of you (he will create a small narval and gently bup it on your nose... Before breaking it, so you'll have water over your face, bc you're so adorable when flushed!! You're allowed to splash him for this)

I think Sandrone forgets about bathing, drowned in her work and if you invite her, Sandrone will say she'll take a quick shower to return to her work. Please convince her to come with you, she needs rest. In bathtub, all of her thoughts are about unfinished projects :(

YEA STINKYTTORE IS SOMETHING ELSE 😭😭💀 AND OMG THANK YOU FOR THESE BRAINROTS💖💖💖

Hehe YES it's obvious Pantalone only uses the most exquisite, high-end products (have you seen his hair? absolutely LUSCIOUS) He probably made a deal with the company to have the stuff delivered to him regularly so he doesn't need to keep buying it lol, but YES he lovesss to pamper you but he also adores being pampered in return. But you gotta make sure you're a pro at it, don't tug or pull on his hair too roughly, be gentle when washing him, you know what I mean. Make sure to sympathize with him and be very soft as he complains to you about how that doctor is using up his funds with no progress. Make sure to give him lots of kisses when he decides the perfect napping place is laying on your chest in the middle of the big af bath tub 😭 (Also get him out of there because a sore Pantalone is a grumpy Pantalone) But he'd also be the kind of guy to be romantic as hell and put candles around the bath and have a book to read in there too :3

AND OMFGG 100% AGREE ON COLUMBINA SHE LOVES TO DO STUFF LIKE THAT. You two always try out new things to put in the bath, I feel like she's really one of those self-care people so your skin is gonna be ultra soft. Though she is extra silly and loves to set you up for literal ATTACKS by her (throw the rubber duckies at her pls) And yea she can fall asleep literally anywhere so try your best to get her out 😭 OMG the singing in the shower😭😭 I love her she definitely gets the best song ideas in there with you... it's brainstorm time

I HATE TO SAY IT BUT YOU'RE 100% RIGHT ON CHILDE...😭😭 Bro comes back after destroying multiple Hilichurl and Treasure Hoarder camps and is ready to hug you to death... baby i love u but CLEAN UP FIRST. But at least he actually loves the baths/the water in general so it's actually quite fun (you're just sad for the person who needs to wash his clothes 💀) He's actually so cute after a shower because his hair is all damp but then you get to see it fluff up back to life with that long ahoge 😭 He's also extra cuddly and won't let go of you <3

SANDRONE BABY NO... get her robots to turn against her. Don't let her leave until she's had a long, warm bath. Her mind will still probably drift to her robots and incomplete puppets... but give her a really good scrub and wash (she won't admit it but she feels way better after working nonstop) (she dives back right into working nonstop again though) Though i feel like she secretly likes to be pampered, lol she doesn't even walk by herself, her robot carries her. So though she doesn't express her gratitude much verbally she is thankful deep down.

#smooches talks #i love this sm ... ugh this sounds so fluffy im crying :(#STOP IVE BEEN IN A SANDRONE LOVIng MOOD LATELY I MISS HER #pantalone love notes <3 #columbina love notes <3 #childe love notes <3 #sandrone love notes <3

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theetherealbloom · 1 year

Text

THE SILVER LINING — CH. 2

Chapter Two: Our Magnetism To Recklessness

Summary: After aiding the Republic and the fall of the Empire, you left the Jedi Training Clan on Bogden 3 to help families needing medical care with the call of the Force. You are a kind, warm-hearted healer on Nevarro, treating the citizens and the bounty hunters. Imperial remnants still linger in the shadows, waiting to strike at the perfect moment. Leading you to assist the Mandalorian with rescuing the Child has led you to your biggest adventure yet.

Paring: Din Djarin x Empath!FemReader

Warnings: Violence, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, People pleasing, Flattery, Blood, Blasters, War, Religion References, Aliens, Sith, Character Deaths,

Word Count: 10.1k

A/N: UHHH… I’m back! Hopefully, I can update this fic consistently now since I have a relaxed school schedule now. As well as writing chapters for Notre Dame but at the moment I’m back with Pedro Pascal character fics hehe.

Song: Someone To Stay by Vancouver Sleep Clinic

Previous Chapter -> Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

INSIDE THE RAZOR CREST

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – SPACE

You’re sitting cross-legged with your palms facing up on the cool metal floor of the Razor Crest. Meditation has always been a struggle for you. You long to explore the depths of your soul, but confronting your deepest fears and desires fills you with a sense of trepidation. Danger seems to be lurking around every corner, and it's always been easier to turn away than to confront it.

But you know that danger lives within you. It's a part of you, an ever-present shadow that threatens to consume you at any moment. And so, you steel yourself for the battle ahead. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and let the stillness envelop you.

At first, the darkness within seems to grow, threatening to overwhelm you. But you refuse to be swayed. You focus on your breath, on the rise and fall of your chest, and slowly but surely, the darkness begins to recede. You feel a sense of peace wash over you, and you know that you've taken the first step on a long and arduous journey.

You open to the sound of the ship's hull rattling, a disconcerting reminder that you're hurtling through space. With a sigh and a frown, you pull yourself up from the floor and climb up the ladder to the cockpit. As you push the doors open, the baby coos in delight, oblivious to the events that surround you. You peer over Mando's shoulder at the star map, trying to make sense of the jumble of lines and dots that represent the countless stars and planets of the galaxy.

"Is everything alright?" you ask, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engines.

Mando shrugs, his eyes fixed on the glowing screen before him. "The kid keeps touching things."

You snort, knowing full well that the baby's curiosity is boundless. You settle into the co-pilot's seat, leaning over to get a better look at the holomap.

"Let's see," Mando says, his voice gruff. "Sorgan. Looks like there's no star port, no industrial centers, no population density. Real backwater skug hole. Which means it's perfect for us.”

You nod, fully aware that a remote planet like Sorgan is precisely what you need to escape the Empire's wrath and the other bounty hunters on your tail. After a brief pause, Mando turns to the baby and speaks, "Are you ready to lay low and stretch your legs for a couple of months, you little womp rat? Nobody's going to find us here."

You can't help but smile at the Mandalorian's words, even as you feel the weight of your past deeds and the danger that constantly surrounds you. But for now, you're grateful for the opportunity to take a breather and rest up before the next job comes knocking. You strap into the co-pilot’s seat and prepare to land on the forested swamp planet.

SORGAN, 9ABY — DAY

The Razor Crest's engine hisses as the landing gear deploys into a locked position, signaling your arrival on the planet's surface. Mando rises from the pilot's chair and gently places the child on the ground, speaking in a hushed tone, "Listen, I'm going out to look around. It won't take long. Just don't touch anything. I'll find us a place to stay and come back for you."

As you stand up, the Mandalorian turns to you with a serious tone, "You watch the kid." He then turns back to the baby, his voice firm, "You stay put. Don't move. Got it?"

The child grunts in response and Mando nods, "Good."

You observe as the Mandalorian strides out of the cockpit doors, leaving you to tend to the small, precious bundle of joy. Your attention shifts to the baby, his big round eyes gazing up at you, conveying his desire to follow the armored warrior. You heave a sigh, weighing the pros and cons of taking the infant along, and then concede, "Alright, let’s go.”

You descend to the lower deck and find the Mandalorian working on lowering the left-side telescopic gate. The child is standing by his right side, fascinated by the mechanism, while you make your way to his left side as quietly as possible. As soon as the gate is fully lowered, the Mandalorian notices the child next to him, tilting his head down to meet the baby's curious gaze.

You stand there awkwardly, unsure how to convince him to let you and the child go with him. You give him a shy smile, hoping it would be enough to persuade him. He looks at you for a moment, then sighs and relents, "Oh, what the hell? Come on."

As you step out into the vibrant greenery of Sorgan's forest, you can't help but marvel at the beauty of it all. The towering trees loom above, their leaves forming a natural canopy that filters the sunlight to create a dappled effect on the ground below. You take in a deep breath of the fresh air, feeling a sense of calm wash over you.

With Mando and the child by your side, you begin to weave your way through the dense foliage, using your hands to brush aside the leaves and branches that obstruct your path. The colors of the plants and flowers around you are like a rainbow, bright and vivid, a far cry from the dull and dreary landscapes you've become accustomed to.

As you walk, you feel a connection to the planet, as if its life force is pulsing through every living thing around you. It's a stark contrast to the harsh and unforgiving worlds you've visited in the past, where the emotions of despair, distaste, and anger seem to permeate every surface. Here on Sorgan, you feel at peace, and you can't help but be grateful to have found such a serene and beautiful place to hide away for a while.

You enter a common house where food is grilled over a large grill. You pull your hood up, not wanting anyone to identify you. As you look around, the patrons are mostly human, and a loth-cat growls at the Child, startling him. You quickly check your surroundings and notice that Mando is doing the same before finding a table.

You lean down to pick up the child and place him on the toddler's chair, and as you sit down, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you sense mixed emotions from someone nearby. Suddenly, the proprietor approaches your table and greets you, “Welcome, travelers. Can I interest you in anything?”

Mando is curt as he replies, “Bone broth, for the little one.” The proprietor hums, “Oh, well, you're in luck. I just took down a grinjer, so there's plenty. Can I interest you in a porringer of broth as well?” Mando nods, “Yes please, for her.”

The proprietor nods and turns to leave but Mando then inquires, “That one over there. When did she arrive?” The proprietor turns to look at who he’s referring to and replies, “I've seen her here for the last week or so.”

You also take a good look at the woman, your empath abilities seeing multiple shades of dark blue radiating and outlining her. Mando tilts his head, “What’s her business here?” She chuckles, “Business? Oh, well, there's not much business in Sorgan, so I can't say. She doesn't strike me as a log runner.” Mando then places down a few large credits on the table and the proprietor is delighted, “Well, thank you, sir. I will get that broth to you as soon as possible, and I will throw in a flagon of spotchka just for good measure. I will be right back with that.”

You smile and thank her as she walks away, only to spot that the woman sitting by the corner had seemingly vanished. Mando stands up alarmed by the fact and swiftly says, “Keep an eye on the kid.”

You nod in agreement and watch as Mando disappears through the curtains leading outside. Your own broth and the child are served soon after, but you can't shake off the feeling that something is amiss. The child hasn't used the Force to communicate with you or even tell you his name yet, you sense a commotion coming from outside. The child hops down from his seat, taking his bowl with him, and you follow him as he leads you to the curtains.

You peek through and see Mando engaged in hand-to-hand combat with a woman. The two grapple with each other, throwing punches and kicks before finally holding each other at gunpoint. You and the child watch in amazement, impressed by their skill and tenacity. Mando notices you both and looks back at the woman, "You want some soup?"

The four of you return to the common house. You sit in between the child and the Mandalorian, listening intently to the woman who introduces herself as Carasynthia ‘Cara’ Dune, “Saw most of my action mopping up after Endor. Mostly Ex-Imperial Warlords. They wanted it fast and quiet. They'd send us in on the drop ships. No support, just us. Then when the Imps were gone, the politics started. We were peacekeepers, protecting delegates, and suppressing riots. Not what I signed up for.”

“How'd you end up here?” The Mandalorian asked, as Cara slowly takes a good look at you, “Let's just call it an early retirement… Wait, were you part of the–” You cut her off before she could out you, “A long time ago, yeah… but it doesn’t matter, I couldn’t stay.”

Cara’s eyebrows furrowed, “They’ve been looking for you.” Your eyes look downwards as you quietly replied, “I know.”

A brief moment of silence passes by the table and Cara cleared her throat, “Look, I knew you were Guild. I figured you had a fob on me. That's why I came at you so hard.”

Mando gruffly replies, “Yeah, that's what I figured.”

Cara moves to get out of her seat while saying, “Well, this has been a real treat, but unless you wanna go another round, one of us is gonna have to move on, and I was here first.”

You watch as the ex-shock trooper leaves, and her empty bowl of soup on the table, feeling disappointed at the missed opportunity to connect with someone in this peaceful place. The Mandalorian tilts his head in your direction, his voice husky as he said, “Well, looks like this planet's taken.”

As the night wears on, you find yourself sitting on the ramp of the Razor Crest with the child on your lap, keeping him company while the Mandalorian works on repairing the ship. The air is filled with the buzz of insects, and the only source of light comes from the two lamps illuminating the Mandalorian's silver beskar armor.

Watching him work with precision and skill, you suddenly blurt out a question that's been on your mind, "If you could go anywhere in the galaxy, where would you go?" His movements momentarily falter, caught off guard by your inquiry. For a while, there's only silence as he continues to work on the ship.

Just as you're about to apologize for asking, he finally responds, "Mandalore." Your confusion is evident on your face, and he elaborates, "I was a foundling. The Mandalorians rescued me, took me in." As he speaks, you feel the weight of his words and the depth of his emotions, the threads, and wisps of dark grey and blue enveloping you and leaving you breathless.

As you continue to play with the baby, you feel the Mandalorian's eyes on you through his vizor. You turn to look at him and catch his gaze before he quickly looks away, back to the repairs. It’s his turn to question you, "If you could go anywhere in the galaxy, where would you go?" and you can't help but wonder if he's searching for something beyond just a destination.

You consider his question for a moment before settling on an answer, "Home." You feel a pang of homesickness wash over you as you say it, but it's the truth. You don't know where home is yet, but you hope to find it someday.

Mando turns to face you, his helmet still covering his face, but you can sense his attention on you. "Where is home?" he asks, his voice quiet yet curious. You shrug your shoulders, "I don't know yet. Maybe it's out there, waiting for me to find it."

As the baby chitters and coos, Mando watches you with a strange warmth in his chest. He hasn't felt this way in a long time, and he's not quite sure how to process it. But watching you play with the child, seeing the way you care for him and make him smile, makes him feel something he's not used to - hope.

The peace of the moment was abruptly shattered by the sound of a repulsorlift speeder approaching. You alerted the Mandalorian, and he assured you he would handle it. As two men approached them, one of them began speaking, "Excuse me."

You watched as the Mandalorian addressed them with an uninterested tone, "There something we can help you with?"

The men hesitated before one of them spoke up, "Uh, yeah. Raiders."

"We have money," the other added.

The Mandalorian scoffed, "So, you think I'm some kinda mercenary?"

The men exchanged a worried glance before the younger one spoke up, "You are a Mandalorian, right? Or at least wearing Mandalorian armor. That is Mandalorian armor, right?"

"It is," the Mandalorian replied curtly, moving to the other side of the panel and using his large frame to herd you away from the two men. You felt his arm wrap around your waist protectively as you carried the child with you.

The men continued to stammer, "Sir, I've read a lot about your people... Tribe. If half of what I read is true..." The other one quickly cuts his friend off, “We have money.”

"How much?" Mando asks, his voice stern and unyielding.

The two men exchange a worried look before the younger one steps forward. "Everything we have, sir. Our whole harvest was stolen."

The older man chimes in, "Krill. We're krill farmers."

You sense and feel their anguish and distress over the situation in their village. The villager holds out a bag of credits and pleads with Mando, "Please, it's all we have. We brew spotchka. Our whole village chipped in."

Mando takes the bag of credits but shakes his head. "It's not enough."

The villager's face falls. "Are you sure? You don't even know what the job is."

"I know it's not enough, good luck," Mando replies, his voice final.

The two villagers look crestfallen as they move aside, defeated. As you ascend up the ramp, you can't help but turn your head towards the two men, feeling guilty for not at least trying to help. With a pleading look in your eyes, you silently urge the Mandalorian to consider their request.

"Come on," the older villager says to the younger. "Let's head back."

The younger one protests. "Took us the whole day to get here. Now we have to ride back with no protection to the middle of nowhere."

Mando turns to face them, a hint of compassion in his voice. "Where do you live?"

"On a farm," the older man replies. "Weren't you listening? We're farmers."

Mando presses on. "In the middle of nowhere?"

The younger man nods. "Yes."

With a deep breath, the Mandalorian considers their request. He looks at you, and you nod your head in agreement. “Good,” he says to the two men. “Come up and help.”

As they follow you into the Razor Crest, you can feel a sense of relief wash over you. Though you don't know what lies ahead, you know that you're doing the right thing. All of you carry different sizes of crates and supplies, loading them onto the repulsorlift speeder and the child quietly sits, observing all of you move around.

You hear the rumble of the Mandalorian’s voice through the modulator of his helmet as he said, “I'm gonna need one more thing. Give me those credits.”

“You gonna ask Cara for help?” You asked as you loaded a small crate of supplies and Mando nods, “I’ll be right back.”

You sit beside the Mandalorian, holding the baby tight against your chest as the speeder glides through the forest. The yellow glow of the lamp illuminates the path ahead, casting flickering shadows on the trees. Across from you, Cara looks skeptical.

“So, we're basically running off a band of Raiders for lunch money?” she says incredulously.

Mando turns to her, his helmet reflecting the light. “They're quartering us in the middle of nowhere. Last I checked, that's a pretty square deal for somebody in your position. Worst case scenario, you tune up your blaster. Best case, we're a deterrent. I can't imagine there's anything living in these trees that an ex-shock trooper couldn't handle.”

Cara nods in agreement, but you can feel your eyelids getting heavy. You lean against one of the crates with the child in your arms, feeling the Mandalorian's warmth beside you. As he stretches his arms and legs, he tilts his helmet up, searching for a comfortable position.

Your tired eyes flutter closed and you sink into a peaceful sleep. The stars twinkle above you, and the speeder's gentle hum lulls you into a deep slumber. You don't notice the Mandalorian's initial rigidity as your sleeping form curls into his, but after a long look at your peaceful face, he relaxes and allows himself to doze off as well.

SORGAN, THE VILLAGE, 9ABY, – MORNING

You awaken to find yourself lying on top of Mando's chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing beneath you. As you open your eyes, you notice that the sun is already high in the sky, casting a warm glow over your surroundings. Mando stirs beneath you, muttering something unintelligible.

"We're here," he says finally, his voice low and gruff.

You feel the cool touch of his beskar armor against your cheek, contrasting with the heat of his body. You blush, feeling the blood rush to your face, and apologize for your unintentional intimacy. Cara, who's been watching you both, gives you a knowing look.

Despite the embarrassment, you can't help but feel a sense of comfort and safety in Mando's presence. Cara smirks knowingly as Mando quips, "Looks like they're happy to see us." The children of the village rush to greet you and the child as you disembark from the speeder, their laughter and cheers filling the air.

You're led by one of the villagers to a barn where you'll be staying for the time being. Omera, the woman who prepared the lodging, welcomes you both in. "I hope this is comfortable for you two. Sorry that all we have is the barn."

You glance at Mando, concerned that he won't have the privacy he needs. "I can bunk with Cara in the meantime so you can have your privacy," you offer. Omera looks between you and Mando, "Are you not… together?"

Before you can clarify, Mando cuts in, "It's fine. She’ll stay with me and help me keep an eye on the kid." You're skeptical, but he simply hums, indicating his certainty. "This will do fine," he adds.

As Omera clears her throat, you notice her eyes lingering on Mando with a hint of admiration, and the jealousy inside you twists uncomfortably. "I stacked some blankets over here," she says, gesturing to a corner of the barn.

Mando thanks her before kneeling down to unpack a few of his things. You watch him, lost in thought as you gaze out the window. Suddenly, you hear small footsteps and Mando quickly spins around, his body tense and alert. You whip your head to the source of the sound, spooking a young girl standing at the doorway.

"Whoa, it's okay," you say, trying to calm her down.

Omera moves to the doorway, slowly revealing the young girl, “This is my daughter, Winta. We don't get a lot of visitors around here. She's not used to strangers.” She then looks at her daughter lovingly, “This nice man and lady are going to help protect us from the bad ones.” Winta looks to both of you, “Thank you.” Mando nods in acknowledgment as you give the young girl a soft smile. “Come on, Winta. Let's give our guests some room.” Omera said, leading her daughter away from you two.

You place the child in his wooden crib that had been provided by the people of the village. As you both unpack your belongings, the Mandalorian remains quiet and distant. You notice his reluctance to get too close, but you can't help but be drawn to his presence.

You break the silence by asking, "So, where did you learn to fight like that? You know, with all those fancy weapons?"

He glances at you briefly before replying, "I've been trained since I was a child. It's part of being a Mandalorian."

"Wow, that's really impressive," you reply, admiring his dedication to his craft.

The Mandalorian grunts in response, his attention focused on organizing his weapons. You decide to try again, "What about you? Where did you grow up?"

You see a flicker of hesitation in his movement before he answers, "I was an orphan. I don't remember much of my childhood."

You nod, understanding his desire for privacy. But you can't help but feel a pang of curiosity. "It must have been tough, growing up like that," you say softly. "Did you have anyone to rely on?"

The Mandalorian pauses, his hands stilling on his weapons. "No one," he replies flatly. "But I had to learn to rely on myself. It's the way of our people."

You sense a deep pain and loneliness in his words, and your heart aches for him. "I'm sorry," you say softly. "But you know, you don't have to be alone all the time. Sometimes it's good to have someone you can trust by your side."

You meet the Mandalorian's gaze, his helmet hiding any trace of emotion. He seems guarded as if waiting for you to reveal more. "And what about you?" he asks, his voice low and curious. "Why are you here?"

You take a moment to consider how much to disclose, knowing that there is more to your presence than meets the eye. You finally decide to offer a vague response, "I'm not really sure. Maybe I'm also running from something... I'm just not sure what. But something drew me to Nevarro and then to you… and the child. I guess it felt right to be here."

The Mandalorian nods, seeming to accept your answer, but you sense that he knows there is more to the story. You wonder if he suspects that you possess a connection to the Force, something that you have been keeping hidden from everyone, including yourself.

You feel a sense of relief that he didn't question you further, knowing that you couldn't reveal your true purpose for being there just yet. You glance out the window, lost in thought, and catch a glimpse of the setting sun. It reminded you of the prophecy that was spoken about the Force, but you quickly push the thought away, not wanting to reveal too much to the Mandalorian.

The Mandalorian nods slowly as if considering your words. "It's not safe out there," he warns. "You should be more careful."

You chuckle. "I can take care of myself, you know. And besides, I have you to protect me now, don't I?"

He doesn't respond, but you can sense a hint of amusement in his posture, completely relaxed and open. Despite the Mandalorian's initial reluctance, you find that he has a dry sense of humor and sharp wit, and you can't help but be drawn to his enigmatic persona. It's a small victory, but it's enough to make you feel hopeful. Maybe he's not as closed off as he seems.

You suddenly hear Omera’s voice by the doorway, "Knock, knock." Mando turns his head to face the door, and you nod to let him know it's okay to let her in. "Come in," he says, his voice steady and calm.

Omera enters the room with a tray of food in her hands, followed by her daughter Winta. She sets the tray down on the table and walks over to the crib where the child rests. Winta looks up at her mother with hopeful eyes, and Omera nods her head in encouragement.

"Can I feed him?" Winta asks, looking up at Mando.

Mando turns to you, silently asking for your permission. You nod, and he responds with a soft "Sure."

You watch as Winta offers the child a mushroom, which he happily munches on. After a moment, she turns to Mando and asks politely, "Can I play with him?"

Mando looks at you for an answer, and you smile and nod your head. He sighs and says, "Sure."

He gently picks up the child and sets him down on the floor, cooing softly to him. You watch as Omera gazes at him with fondness, and you feel a twisted and sickening feeling in your stomach. It sits like a rock, weighing you down, and you feel as though you're standing on the edge of a drop-off, or at the summit of a great mountain.

As Winta leads the child out of the barn, you notice Mando's protective nature kick in as he steps forward and hesitates, "I don't think…"

But Omera places a calming hand on his chest, interrupting his thoughts. You turn away, trying not to intrude on their moment. You hear her reassure him, "They'll be fine."

Mando still seems hesitant, repeating, "I don't…" before Omera firmly reassures him once more, "They'll be fine."

You can feel the tension in the air and look down at the wooden floor, feeling a sense of unease. In a quiet voice, you speak up, "I'll go keep an eye on them and make sure no one gets hurt." You quickly leave the barn, not wanting to see the possibility of having something to lose.

You step out onto the grass, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. As you make your way toward the children, you can hear their laughter and playful screams in the distance. You see Winta and the child running around in circles, the little one stumbling and giggling as he tries to keep up with her.

You stand off to the side, keeping a watchful eye on them. It's hard to resist the urge to join in on the fun, but you know better than to draw any unwanted attention to yourself. As you watch, you can't help but think about the danger that seems to follow the child everywhere he goes.

You sit on a bench a few meters away from the Mandalorian, lost in thought as you watch the children play. The sun is setting, casting a warm glow across the landscape. You sigh contentedly, feeling a sense of peace at this moment.

Meanwhile, the Mandalorian is sitting alone at a table, his helmet resting beside him. He watches the children with a soft expression, savoring the moment. As he eats, his gaze drifts to you, sitting on the bench. He takes a deep breath, his thoughts turning to you.

Unbeknownst to you, the Mandalorian is watching you. His heart beats faster as he takes in your features, admiring your beauty from afar. He wonders what you're thinking about, what's going through your mind.

For a moment, he considers walking over to you, but he decides against it. He knows he can't reveal his face to you, and he doesn't want to risk exposing himself. So he remains where he is, silently watching you and the children play.

You, on the other hand, remain lost in thought, unaware of the Mandalorian's gaze upon you. You take a deep breath, feeling content and at ease in this moment of peace and quiet.

As evening falls, you, Cara, and the Mandalorian swiftly track down and analyze the trail left by the raiders. Little did you know, the Mandalorian's keen senses were also keeping tabs on your every move. He switches to his infrared vision and presses a few buttons on his left bracer, “About 15 or 20 of them came through here on foot. And something big sheared off those branches,” he observes, pointing to the missing chunks of the tree.

You and Cara follow the Mandalorian closely, unaware that his eyes are also scanning your form from a distance. Suddenly, he stops in his tracks, causing you and Cara to look up and see a huge print on the ground. “AT-ST,” he declares, and you curse softly under your breath, realizing the gravity of the situation.

The Mandalorian's voice breaks through your thoughts, “Imperial walker. What's it doing here?” Cara shakes her head, unsure, “I don't know. But this is more than I signed up for.” As you look ahead, you witness the aftermath of the walker's destruction - a vast clearing of trees completely demolished and torn down. You're completely speechless, and a sense of dread settles in as you realize the danger you're all facing.

You make your way back to the village, feeling the weight of the impending news you have to deliver. Mando calls for a town meeting to announce the situation, and you stand in front of the crowd. He begins, “Bad news. You can't live here anymore.”

The murmurs of questions and concern immediately fill the air, and you look at the Mandalorian in disbelief, though you had expected worse. “Nice bedside manner,” Cara comments, causing Mando to retort, “You think you can do better?” She shrugs, “Can't do much worse.”

Cara steps up, raising her voice so the farmers can hear her, “I know this is not the news you wanted to hear, but there are no other options.” Mando moves to lean on the wall behind him, holding his left arm with his right hand, and quietly observing the people around him.

A farmer reminds them, “You took the job.” To which Cara replies, “That was before we knew about the AT-ST.” Another asks, “What is that?”

Cara looks at them pointedly, “The armored walker with two enormous guns that you knew about and didn't tell us.”

Protests immediately erupt as they beg for your help. Eventually, Omera speaks up and pleads, “Please. We have nowhere to go.” Cara chirpily replies, “Sure you do. This is a big planet. I mean, I've seen a lot smaller.”

One of the farmers responds, saying that his grandfather seeded the ponds, and his companion adds that it took them generations to build this village. Cara nods, “I understand. I do. But there are only three of us.” To which one of them replies, “No, there's not. There's at least 20 here.”

Cara shakes her head, “I mean fighters. Be realistic.”

As the farmers plead and Cara stresses the impossibility of fighting the AT-ST, you feel overwhelmed by the multitude of emotions emanating from the crowd. Fear, desperation, anger, hopelessness, and determination all blend together, causing your powers to spiral out of control. You try to focus on breathing and grounding yourself, but the colors in your vision continue to scatter, blurring your sight.

You lean against the wall for support, trying to steady yourself. The room feels like it's closing in on you, and you can't help but feel the weight of the situation. The farmers have built their lives and livelihoods in this village, and they have nowhere else to go. It's up to you and your companions to find a solution, but the odds are stacked against you.

As the tension in the room escalates, the Mandalorian surprises everyone by speaking up. His words hang in the air, daring the villagers to consider the impossible. You can't help but feel a glimpse of hope as he says, “Unless we show them how.”

As the Mandalorian begins to teach the farmers how to fight and shoot, you step away from the group, needing a moment to collect your thoughts. The air around you is thick with tension and uncertainty. You feel the weight of the situation heavy on your shoulders.

You walk towards the edge of the village, away from the chaos and noise. The world around you is peaceful, yet melancholic. The sky is painted with hues of pink and orange, a reminder of the beauty that still exists amidst the chaos.

As you stand there, the wind brushes against your face, carrying with it the whispers of hope and despair. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to clear your mind of the overwhelming emotions.

You pick up a staff from nearby, feeling its weight in your hands. The sun beats down on you, casting a golden light that dances across the grass, and you take a deep breath, ready to practice.

You start with simple movements, twirling the staff in your hands, and feeling the wind whistle through the hollow center. As you continue, your movements become more fluid and more natural, and your mind quiets as your body takes over. You lose yourself in the dance of the staff, swishing it back and forth, striking against imaginary foes.

With each movement, you feel your muscles stretching, your body growing stronger. You can feel the power coursing through you, and you close your eyes, savoring the sensation. For a moment, the world falls away, and you are alone with your staff, in perfect harmony.

But as the sounds of the villagers practicing with their blasters and rifles reach your ears, you remember the urgency of the situation. You open your eyes, feeling more focused and determined than ever before. You take a deep breath and start practicing more elaborate moves, twirling the staff overhead, sliding it across the ground, and striking at invisible enemies.

You continue to practice until the sun begins to dip below the horizon, and the sky turns a deep shade of purple. Your body is slick with sweat, and your arms ache, but you feel invigorated. You know that with each movement, you are preparing yourself for the fight ahead, and you feel more confident than ever before.

As you make your way back to the barn, your heart beats with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. Your hand reaches for the satchel, fingers fumbling as you open the flap. Inside, the lightsaber hilt gleams with a soft, pulsing light that seems to call out to you. You grasp it firmly, feeling the power of the Force course through your veins.

For a moment, you pause, taking in the weight of the weapon in your hand. This is what you have trained for, what you have waited for. You know that you will need to use it in the coming fight, and the thought fills you with both excitement and fear.

Finally, you pocket the hilt and emerge from the barn, scanning the crowd for Cara. When you spot her, she wastes no time briefing you on the plan. You listen intently, the words washing over you as you visualize the steps in your mind. Eventually, the two of you look for Mando, knowing it’s almost time to leave.

As the Mandalorian and Omera speak by the house, you couldn't help but notice the intimacy in their conversation. They stood so close, their faces mere inches apart, and their voices low and gentle. It made you wonder if you were good enough, if you could ever be as strong and capable as Mando, or as graceful and alluring as Omera.

You watched as Mando turned to leave, his helmeted head facing away from Omera. She lingered there, her eyes following his retreating figure with a mix of admiration and sadness. As you watched this scene, you felt a twinge of jealousy and inadequacy. It was as if you were an outsider looking in, a witness to a connection that you could never fully understand or be a part of.

Cara nods to him that they needed to leave. You walk away from them, towards where you were supposed to hide, not wanting them to see the sullen look on your face, needing to shake the feeling off and focus on the task at hand. The villagers were counting on all of you, and that’s not something you take lightly.

In the midst of the village's collective anticipation, time slows to a crawl. The sky above transforms into a particular hue, casting an otherworldly glow over the scene. You stand amidst the gathered villagers, a mixture of anxiety and determination knotting your insides. The atmosphere is charged with a blend of urgency and impending confrontation, the air heavy with a sense of destiny that you can't quite escape.

As the minutes tick by, the weight of the moment presses down on you. The instinct to seek shelter wars with the fierce readiness to stand your ground. Amidst this inner turmoil, a strange paralysis grips you momentarily, as if the very ground beneath you has rooted itself, making each step an arduous effort.

Then, in the distance, relief washes over you like a cool breeze as the figures of Mando and Cara emerge into view. Their forms dash towards the makeshift barricade that you and the villagers have constructed, a symbol of your collective resolve. Amidst the swirling emotions and the pulsating energy of the moment, Cara's voice pierces through, a beacon of command and assurance, “This is it. Once that thing steps into the pond, it's goin' down.”

From the distant heart of the forest, an eerie symphony of creaking trees accompanies each ponderous stride of the AT-ST, its colossal frame sending shivers through the earth itself. The very ground trembles beneath your feet, a testament to the immense power this machine wields. Amid the tension-soaked air, the mechanical titan's eyes, ablaze in a menacing red hue, fixate on your position. Cara's authoritative voice cuts through the unease, “Weapons ready.”

With a resolve that refuses to waver, the villagers heed her call, seizing their arms with a mixture of determination and fear. You grip your quarterstaff firmly, its cool surface a reassuring anchor in this storm of impending conflict. The rhythmic thuds grow louder, the impending doom drawing closer. Amidst the anxiety, the Mandalorian's voice, a steady murmur, reaches you, “Just a few more steps.”

Anticipation hangs heavy in the air, but just as the monstrous machine teeters on the brink of submerging into the pond, a sudden, jarring halt freezes its movement. A collective breath catches as hope and dismay collide. “It stopped,” Cara's voice rings out, the disappointment palpable, and you can't help but release a quiet curse of frustration.

The AT-ST's ominous features illuminate as its piercing lights cut through the encroaching darkness. In response, Mando's stern command ripples through the group, “Get down. Get down.”

A burst of violence shatters the relative calm. A fiery blast erupts from the AT-ST, obliterating a nearby house into a shower of debris and destruction. Omera's anguished cry pierces through the chaos, “Caben. Stay there!”

“Hold your positions!” Cara commands and you await the oncoming chaos.

A beat passes and you spot the klantooinians raiders charging through the fields and you hear Cara shout, “Open fire.”

Amidst the chaotic symphony of blasters roaring and explosions resounding, your thoughts keep returning to the Child and the other children, tucked away in a hut for safety. The clamor of battle seems almost distant compared to the nagging worry that gnaws at your core. But suddenly, a chorus of voices rises in unison, snapping you back to the present turmoil.

Mando and Cara remain engrossed in the fierce firefight, their blasters blazing as they relentlessly confront the marauding raiders. You bide your time, observing the ebb and flow of the battle, waiting for the opportune moment to make your move. “We gotta get that thing to step forward,” Mando's words cut through the din, met with a silent nod of agreement from you. Cara's response follows suit, determination etching her features, “I'm thinking.”

Your gaze shifts from the AT-ST to the gap that separates it from the pond, then back to the determined figures of Mando, Cara, and the villagers, united in their struggle to defend their homes and lives. They're fighting against the odds, wielding resilience in the face of adversity. It's a hand they didn't choose, yet they're attempting to rewrite the cruel script forced upon them.

With a determined exhale, you voice your plan, “Well, I’ve got one. Cover me.”

Mando's urgent cry pierces the battlefield, “Wait!” But your feet are already in motion, pounding towards the imposing AT-ST. Klatooinians attempt to thwart your advance, but your actions are driven by purpose. The AT-ST's mechanical gaze fixes upon you, unleashing a barrage of blaster fire. Swiftly, you deflect the first onslaught with your staff, the sheer force of it causing the weapon to fracture.

Disregarding the broken staff, you retrieve the hilt of your saber from your side. A single motion ignites the weapon, its vibrant hum slicing through the tumultuous air. A momentary hush descends upon the battlefield as the radiant purple glow pierces the darkness, a beacon of your will amid uncertainty.

Seizing the moment, you propel your legs into swift motion, closing the distance between you and the towering AT-ST with resolute determination. The machine responds with a rapid barrage of blaster fire, its crimson bolts lancing through the air toward you. But your reflexes are honed, your connection with the Force guiding your every move. The blaster bolts meet their match in your deft saber strikes, the vibrant blade intercepting and redirecting the onslaught with precision. One of your well-aimed deflections strikes true, the blaster bolt rebounding off the reflective surface and impacting the window of the AT-ST. An immediate burst of flames engulfs the interior, setting the machine's innards ablaze.

Closing in on the colossal mechanical menace, you keep your focus sharp. Your fingers clasp the hilt of your saber with unwavering determination, the hum of its energy reverberating through your hands. A fierce battle cry escapes your lips as you direct the blade toward one of the legs of the AT-ST. The searing edge of your lightsaber bites into the metal, and with a surge of strength channeled from within, you cleave through the mechanical sinews that keep the monstrosity upright. The air sings with the screech of metal yielding to your power, and as your blade severs the last connection.

Amidst a chorus of groans and creaks, the colossal machine succumbs to its own weight, a symphony of destruction that heralds triumph within the tumultuous disarray. The very ground shudders beneath the force of its fall as it crashes into the abyss of the deep trench. Unexpectedly, the Mandalorian surges forward, a grav charge in hand, and drives it into the heart of the walker's chassis. The device emits a beeping signal, and then he seizes your hand, urgency driving his movements as he pulls you with him. Together, you plunge into the pond's embrace, immersing yourselves in the watery depths just before the AT-ST succumbs to the explosion that fractures it into fragments.

Stripped of their mechanical support, the Klatooinian raiders who remain flee into the shadows of the forest, their bravado shattered in the wake of defeat. Around you, the villagers erupt in exultation, triumphant cheers filling the air like a melodic affirmation of the strength they've discovered within themselves.

In the watery sanctuary, your breaths come in ragged gasps, echoes of the fierce battle still resounding within you. A wave of exhaustion washes over you, the weight of the fight making itself known. Yet, a tender touch upon your cheek stirs you from your fatigue-induced daze. You turn to find his gaze upon you through the opaque visor, and beneath its cold exterior, you sense something unexpected—a question, an unspoken curiosity, an almost vulnerable inquiry.

His voice, normally so brusque, is a gentle breeze against your senses as he inquires, “Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?”

His words hang in the air, an invitation to open up, to be real, to let him in. For a moment, you're paralyzed, the fear of being truly seen like a tangible thing. Your lips part, the urge to speak rising, but the words remain trapped, caught between the weight of vulnerability and the yearning to connect.

Yet, he doesn't seem to need your words. His hand, clad in smooth leather, finds yours in a firm yet gentle grip. The touch, the connection, is a promise that whatever unspoken truths linger will find their way into the light. And for now, as your fingers interlace, you both find solace in shared victory, the unspoken understanding between you more profound than any words could convey.

SEVERAL WEEKS LATER…

SORGAN, THE VILLAGE, 9ABY, – AFTERNOON

"Wow, that's so cool!"

"Are you a Jedi?"

"Can we see the lightsaber again, please?"

With the dawn's gentle embrace, the village emerged from slumber, and before Mando even stirred, you found yourself encircled by a swarm of eager young faces. Tiny hands reached for yours, their chorus of pleas and questions creating a symphony of innocent curiosity despite the weeks that have gone by of answering their queries.

In their midst, you shared stories and secrets, laughter and gasps of amazement, as their wide eyes absorbed your every word while you held the child. It was a long night's rest that had rejuvenated your spirit, and stepping outside the hut, you became an instant magnet for the village's exuberant youth.

Through the playful haze, you caught sight of Cara, Omera, and Mando engaged in conversation by the hut. His helmet's visage glinted like a sentinel beneath the sun's warm embrace, his figure a silent sentinel stationed against the wall. Amidst the cacophony of youthful delight, you juggled their queries with practiced ease, attempting to distill the complex realities of your experiences into tales they could grasp.

As you spun your narratives, the sunlight painted glimmers upon your skin, and your peripheral senses detected a familiar gleam. A glint of Mando's helmet, a silent yet potent presence observing from a distance, stirred your awareness. Amidst the ceaseless laughter and relentless inquisition, your gaze inadvertently gravitated toward the corner of the village square, drawn by an unspoken connection that lingered between you and the Mandalorian.

Omera emerges from the hut's threshold, her gaze pivoting to Mando as she inquires softly, "Can I set you something in the house?"

He pauses for a moment before answering, "Uh, thank you. Maybe later."

A subtle smile graces Omera's lips as her attention shifts to you and the child. "She and the kid are very happy here," she observes, an undercurrent of warmth threading through her words.

Mando's response carries a quiet affirmation, "They are."

Omera's smile widens, and her raised eyebrows convey an unspoken sentiment. "Fits right in."

Meanwhile, Cara, the no-nonsense warrior, interjects with her characteristic bluntness, her voice carrying a mix of skepticism and curiosity, "So, what happens if you take that thing off? They come after you and kill you?"

Mando offers a succinct reply, his tone unchanging behind the helmet, "No. You just can't ever put it back on again."

Cara's retort is laced with a wry grin, "That's it? So you can slip off the helmet, settle down with that beautiful young Jedi, and raise your kid sitting here, sipping spotchka?"

His visor-hidden gaze narrows thoughtfully, a silent response that hints at a complexity he's unwilling to divulge. The beat of silence stretches before he speaks again, changing the subject, "You know, we raised some hell here a few weeks back. It's too much action for a backwater town like this. Word travels fast. We might wanna cycle the charts and move on."

Cara's gaze flicks between you, the child, and Mando, a sardonic edge to her tone, "Would not wanna be the one who's gotta tell them."

Mando's statement carries a mixture of conviction and conflicted sentiment as if he's wrestling with his own decision. "I'm leaving him here. Both of them. Traveling with me, that's no life for a kid. I did my job, he's safe. They have a better chance at having a life."

As Mando's resolve wavers under the weight of his choice, Cara offers a sage observation, taking a sip of her spotchka, "It's gonna break their hearts."

Seeking perhaps to steel himself against the impending heartache, Mando responds with a hint of resignation, "They'll get over it. We all do."

A sudden, familiar weight settles in your chest, like the ominous gathering of storm clouds on the horizon. It sends shivers of unease coursing through you, prompting a quick scan of the surroundings for Mando and Cara as if you could physically warn them of the disquiet simmering within you.

Standing up, you cast a glance back at the children, your young charges engrossed in their activities, oblivious to the turmoil now churning inside you. As if propelled by an invisible force, you start walking away from the innocence of their laughter, the gnawing sensation in your gut demanding your attention.

Only a few paces beyond the tranquil krill ponds, your gaze locks onto a scene that wrenches your heart anew. Omera and Mando stand together, distanced yet intimately close, their figures illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun. It's a tender tableau, one you were never meant to witness.

Omera's fingers curl around Mando's armor, a slow and deliberate gesture, as she begins to lift his helmet. You swiftly avert your eyes, the sting of tears threatening to surface. You pivot away from the scene, your steps leading you toward the child, an attempt to ground yourself in something pure amid the swirling emotions.

The weight in your chest intensifies an inexplicable heaviness that tugs at your soul. The tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, a mix of frustration and sorrow. You silently chide yourself for feeling this way – Mando was never yours, his heart and his choices his own. So why, against all reason, should you be caught in the clutches of this tumultuous emotion?

A sharp crack pierces the air, a blaster bolt splitting through the tranquility of the forest clearing not far from where you stand. In an instant, your protective instincts surge to life, igniting your lightsaber and positioning yourself in front of the child and the others. Panic ripples through the group of children, their cries a jarring contrast to the once-serene atmosphere.

Your focused gaze darts toward Omera, a swift nod exchanged between you, an unspoken understanding passing like a current. As she moves to shelter and reassure the children, you pivot on your heel, determination propelling you toward the source of the disturbance.

Emerging from the shadows, your lightsaber casting a determined glow, you encounter a scene of finality. Cara stands over the lifeless body of a Kubaz bounty hunter, blaster in hand, her expression a mixture of readiness and relief. The confrontation ended as swiftly as it began. The Mandalorian strides forward, his presence materializing at your side, the crisp sound of his boots on the forest floor.

A somber resonance fills the air as the lifeless form meets the forest floor, and Mando's sturdy boot nudges the body, revealing the insistent blinking of the tracking fob. The device emanates an eerie glow, a digital reminder of an unrelenting pursuit. Cara's voice slices through the weighty atmosphere, demanding answers amidst the tension.

Her inquiry hangs palpably in the air, the silent acknowledgment that danger remains close, relentless in its pursuit. Mando's response is terse yet laden with gravity, his words encapsulating the dire reality that they all now face.

As the gravity of the situation settles, Mando carefully places the tracking fob onto a weathered rock, a symbol of the imminent threat that looms over the child. The weight of the knowledge rests heavily upon them all, and Cara's astute observation underlines the inescapable truth that now binds them.

In the midst of the chilling realization, Mando's voice carries a resonance of acceptance, his words a stark recognition of the inevitability of the conflict to come. A flicker of resolve paints his expression, his gaze unwavering as he crushes the tracking fob beneath the heel of his boot. The sharp sound of the device's demise echoes in the forest, a defiant act of defiance against the relentless pursuit of those who seek to harm the innocent.

The sting of departure hung heavy in the air, a palpable ache that mirrored the heaviness in your chest as you methodically packed your belongings. The room you had called home for a brief moment seemed to resonate with memories, each corner a repository of emotions now interwoven with the essence of Sorgan.

Before stepping away from the threshold, your gaze swept over the room one final time, as if etching its image deep into your memory. The village buzzed with activity, the collective efforts of the villagers and Cara aiding the Mandalorian in loading his supplies onto a repulsorlift sled. In the midst of this orchestrated movement, you silently began to load your own belongings onto the sled, a quiet moment amidst the whirlwind of departure.

Cara's voice cut through the busy air, “Are you sure you don't want an escort?” His gratitude resonated in his reply, speaking with the same reserved sincerity that defined him, “I appreciate the offer, but we're gonna bypass the town and head right to the Razor Crest.”

“Until our paths cross,” Cara's words held a weight of camaraderie, her outstretched hand an emblem of the bonds forged during their time together. Mando's gloved hand met hers, a brief yet impactful connection, his own voice echoing her sentiment, “Until our paths cross.”

As the village seemed to gather around for their farewells, Omera's gratitude radiated as she approached Mando, words unspoken yet deeply felt. Beside her, Winta bid a heartfelt goodbye to the child, sealing the moment with an embrace that carried the purity of youthful affection. Her gaze then turned to you, arms wrapping around you in an embrace that spoke volumes of gratitude and the unspoken connections that had formed in this place.

With each step taken toward the waiting repulsorlift sled, the inevitability of departure weighed heavily upon you both. Seated side by side on the sled's back, the village began to fade from view as the repulsorlift carried you away. The faces of the villagers, once so vivid, slowly merged into the tapestry of your memories, their waves of farewell etched into your heart as you embarked on the next chapter of your journey.

Amidst the backdrop of transition, a simmering tension took residence between you and the Mandalorian. The weight of unspoken thoughts and emotions hung heavy in the air, cocooning your interactions in a heavy silence. A palpable shift in this silence marked your decision to finally address the unspoken, your voice carrying the weight of honesty, "You were going to leave me here with him, weren't you?" The words emerged, a tentative bridge between the chasm of thoughts that had separated you.

The Mandalorian's response was measured, spoken with a characteristic directness that defined him, "It isn't safe being with me." His words echoed, revealing a truth steeped in his understanding of the galaxy's harsh reality.

Your own response held a mixture of wry humor and vulnerability, a glimpse into your own perceptions, "I think I have you beat there." His tilted head met your words, an unspoken query that hung in the air, waiting for further elaboration.

The weight of unspoken revelations hovered, waiting for the right moment to find their way to the surface. Mando's voice cut through the charged atmosphere, measured yet laden with curiosity, "So you're a…"

The sentence hung unfinished, your heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears as you paused his words with your own, your admission cascading into the open, "I'm not... I’m not a Jedi. I never completed my trials, nor was I sworn in. I possessed the training, but I never reached the end." The quiver in your voice betrayed the underlying emotions, a turbulent sea beneath a fragile surface. "I didn't intend to keep this from you or lie. I… I was scared."

His head tilted, a gesture of silent acknowledgment, urging you to continue. "Scared of me," he interjected, his words more a statement of perception than a question.

With your gaze unwavering, you gently dismissed his assumption, the connection between your eyes and his visor palpable. "No, not of you," you affirmed, the confidence in your tone unwavering. "I was scared of losing you, of losing both you and the child." Your voice, though steady, carried the weight of a vulnerability you had kept hidden. "Nevarro offered refuge for me to escape and to serve, a sanctuary from a cryptic prophecy that remains uncertain. My intention was to help you, to protect the child. But I understand why you would have left me here with the kid. I wouldn't put it past you."

The air held a renewed tension as the unspoken reverberated in the stillness. It was then that you offered a choice, a path back, a way to erase the uncertainty, "I can still go… if you want me to." Your words carried a hint of apprehension, manifesting in the slight fidget of your fingers with your clothes. "You can just drop me off near the town and I can…"

The Mandalorian's swift response was a resolute negation, a declaration that shattered your expectations, "No."

His words hung in the air, a statement that caused your gaze to lock onto his, a mixture of surprise and anticipation coloring your expression. Your unspoken question trembled in the unspoken, and his next words were a simple, unwavering assurance, "You're not staying here."

The silent exchange spoke volumes, a shared understanding held in the unspoken spaces between your gazes. Time seemed to pause, a fleeting moment that held the promise of uncharted possibilities. "But I thought you…"

"I… I was wrong," he confessed, his admission fraught with a rare vulnerability. "I thought it was safe here, for you and the kid. So you can have a life… without me… but it seems as if… it's better for you to stay. I’d like you to stay."

His words hung in the air, a poignant acknowledgment of the complexity of his decisions. You blinked, your thoughts a maelstrom of emotions you struggled to articulate. The Mandalorian cleared his throat, a subtle gesture that preceded his unexpected twist, "Besides, I need help with the little womp rat."

Your reaction was instinctive, a smile that tugged at your lips and a laugh that bubbled from within. Unbeknownst to you, your laughter held a transformative power, stirring something within the Mandalorian that had long lain dormant.

As your head tilted back and your laughter filled the space between you, the Mandalorian watched a silent observer of the joy your presence brought. In that ephemeral moment, something shifted within him, a recognition that the bond forming between you was unlike anything he had ever known. And as he witnessed your smile and heard your laughter, a seed was planted - a seed that hinted at a future where, amidst the galaxy's uncertainties, there could still be space for connection and a lifeless solitary.

END NOTES:

The bitch is back on that Pedro Pascal fic writing grind. IDK IF THE PACING IS PACING PROPERLY??? I THINK IT IS?? I DUNNO?? I second-guess myself all the time when I’m writing. Also sometimes it’s as if I black out and wake up with over 10k words and I’m like– alr that makes sense to me! OK BYE IMMA WRITE CHAPTER THREE NOW MWA MWA!

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@wastingspaces @avengersheart @lunatic1012 @keepingupwiththeskywalkers @mxltifxnd0m @syviiss @luckyzipperscissorsbat @avengersheart @dins-riduur-anthe @lizlil

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x y/n #the mandalorian rewrite #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fic #etherealupdates #the silver lining #The Silver Lining Mandalorian Fic

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