#flower language is both fascinating and overwhelming to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writeshite · 2 years ago

Text

Good Natured

Summary:

There are a great many mysteries in this world; some are solved by the advent of science, others remain secrets of the universe, but without a doubt, perhaps the greatest mystery known to humanity is how you willingly dated and continue to date the Homelander.

Pairings:

Homelander x Gender Neutral!Reader

Tags:

Magic!Reader | A Little Bit Of Flower Language | 5+1 Things (Sort Of) | Fluff | The Tiniest Wee Mention Of Violence

Words: 4584

Author's Note:

The original ask is here, requested by @ayamethewitch I spent three hours reading up on flower language, mainly cause I got sidetracked again. This turned out way longer than I thought it would, and idk how 😭

Every child dreams of becoming a superhero, flying through the sky, saving people from dangers, fame, fortune, and adoration. Annie’s looked to the skies and the heroes that came before with admiration and plastered her bedroom walls with their merchandise; she’d run around the house like she was flying, arms out and smile on her face. Now, as she stood in Vought, the newest member of the Seven, it was safe to say she was far more than just ecstatic.

Though it wasn’t really like anything she’d imagined - the Seven and various other supes stood around the room; the public had had their fill of her, so now, she mingled with her fellow heroes. She’d been nibbling on the same cookie for the past thirty minutes - Stormfront and Homelander were the big no-nos; the two were in the midst of showing off - Queen Maeve had spoken to her for a bit before moving on. Annie was now standing by the Deep and Black Noir, half-listening to whatever the topic of conversation was.

“Hey,” a new voice called out softly. Annie turned, and you held out your hand, “Bloodroot, lovely to meet you.”

“Bloodroot….” Annie says the name cautiously, shaking your hand, and examines you. You’re, for lack of a better term, perhaps the oddest one in the room - your witch hat resembles a mushroom, and your loose pale green shirt has various flowers threaded on the sleeves. It dips down on your chest, exposing the multiple necklaces you have; your pants are a dark color, as are your shoes. Annie notices the necklaces and rings you have all have some form of star-like symbol; if not gold, they’re either red, blue, or white. ‘Reminds me of Homelander,’ she thinks to herself.

“Yeah, it’s a dramatic name, but it does the trick,” you wink. A few petals bloom from the corner of your eye; they drift to the floor and melt into the ground. Annie gawked at you, and you shrugged, “It’s kind of on point, though.”

“That was amazing,” she says, and you wave her off.

“Not really, making petals’ a parlor trick, although….” you trail off, taking off your hat, you shove your hand in it and stick your tongue out, fishing for something, you pull a whole bouquet of yellow roses, and hand them over to her. “Yellow roses to brighten up your day.”

When Annie takes them, the petals open, twisting out to become butterflies that flutter around her, leaving a trail of golden sparkles. The sparkles fall on her, leaving a slight glow and bringing a smile to her face; the stems unravel, and the leaves burst into birds, settling on her shoulders. The unraveled stalks shoot up, then burst like fireworks, Annie’s smile gets wider as she marvels at your magic, “Holy shit….”

“Welcome to Vought, Starlight,” you say.

The others around had stopped their conversations and joined Annie in marveling, some reached out to the butterflies as they drifted away from her. A few looked just about ready to rush towards you and ask for more magic marvels but resisted doing so. John hated the attention you gave new supes, but it helped them feel less nervous and brought a smile to their faces. Granted, it also meant that a few would latch onto you for a few days before John would threaten them.

“Don’t I get any flowers?” Kevin pouted.

“No.” You almost groan at the sound of John’s voice; he’d gone from his little show-off to your side at the mere mention of flowers from the Deep. He placed his hand on your waist and frowned, glaring daggers at the other hero, “Sorry, Guppy, but my partner’s not some charity.”

“John —”

“Partner?” Annie questions, and John takes your hand, turning it over to showcase the various rings on your hand; he points to one in particular - the band resembles a vine, twisting towards the center and around three diamonds in the middle. The band wraps around the jewels like a branch would emerge from a tree, “Wow.” It’s all she can say; she’s only been around for a few hours, but from the little she knows so far - you and Homelander are on two ends of the personality spectrum.

You shake your head as John proudly displays the ring; he doesn’t let go of your hand, instead keeping it in his hold as he stares down the Deep. You’d given him flowers once, and John had thrown a right fit about it, Annie gulps nervously, and you elbow John. “Starlight, is it?” he turns to the newest addition to the team, and she anxiously nods, shaking his hand with a tight smile. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to welcome you properly.”

Her tight smile loosens when you toss her a reassuring smile, “So…” she starts, “how long….uh….have you been married?”

“We’re not married, well, not publicly,” John responds, “as far as the public’s aware, we’re recently engaged. Vought likes the opposites attract story, and I like showing off my partner.”

“How did you meet?” Annie asks; she directs the question at both of you but looks to you.

��I tried shoving my hat down his throat,” you reply, almost deadpanned, it brings a snort out of Annie, “Course, it didn’t work, so I settled for almost turning him into a tree.” She laughs, then reigns it back when John glares at her, “...sorry, sorry….” but then you laugh, and she takes that as a sign that she’s safe to do so again.

The party’s died down since your welcome gift as people mill about, and the excitement settles down; John grows weary of the conversation, tapping his foot impatiently. When you and Annie’s laughter dies down, he starts to steer you away, footsteps slow as you bid goodbye to the new supe, “Don’t hesitate to find me if you need help,” you say, elbowing John again when he shakes his head sternly, eyes tinted red.

Annie watches you get swept away, now, just you and John; she notes how the supe’s figure nearly wraps around you as if to block anyone from laying eyes on you. It’s not just her; it seems; the other guests all wait for Homelander to direct his attention - however brief - elsewhere before looking at you. Some practically avert their gaze when you pass by, and Annie has to take a moment to grasp the soft (?) look Homelander gives you.

“Strange aren’t they?” the Deep remarks, “Don’t worry, you’re not the only one who wonders how Homelander got them to date him.” He assures her, “By the way, his hearing barely registers when they’re around, so nothing you say will have him ripping your lungs out.”

Yeah, nothing quite like she imagined.

Every day, the damage control department at Vought sends kisses towards the photo they have of you. The picture hangs framed in the back corner, tucked away in a tiny cubicle, where the tired department has set up their offerings - see before you, they had it tough, cleaning up after one supe was hard enough, but cleaning up after Homelander was a nightmare. Then, like an angel, you graced this world, and their jobs became easier, Homelander’s damage rate decreased, and they could rest easy, knowing they wouldn’t have to sacrifice countless nights to fix things.

Various other departments had their own altars, but damage control was the main one - it was well hidden, polished daily, and sometimes prayed to as well. This was all, of course, on a need-to-know basis; Homelander didn’t quite appreciate anyone so much as looking at you for too long; Anika shuddered to think what he’d do if he found out. Security had personal altars, all tucked away by their stations - hers consisted of a vase of sweet peas and yellow lilies, a subtle way to convey gratitude. The combo was very common around security, and some had even gone as far as to wear it on their person.

The higher-ups were none the wiser, and no one felt inclined to inform them on the matter. “Your flower’s drooping.” The silent worship you received from the Vought employees also brought about superstitions - letting flowers die on Vought grounds could bring misfortune or, worse, Homelander (somehow). As if Anika didn’t already have enough to fear from this godforsaken job.

She tended to leave her flowers till the day they were shriveled before replacing them; her coworkers all shook their heads at her as she dumped the old flowers. She’d already had her last break of the day, so she’d have to wait and come back tomorrow with new flowers. She shook off the nagging feeling, focusing on her work; just when she thought she was home-free, low and behold, Homelander comes charging into the room, eyeing each and every one of them as he lays out his demands - she prays he just waltzes past her, but he doesn’t. Choosing her to find what he needs and to find it now.

Her hands slightly tremble as she works; the supe stands over her, arms collapsed behind his back - she thinks she can feel the heat of his laser eyes as she takes what he deems as too long. He’s almost fed up with her slow progress when salvation appears; you waltz into the room - your iconic hat gone - you don a classy suit-like attire, with a waist cape and fingerless gloves, you look every bit the witch Vought market you out to be.

“There you are,” you say, coming up to them. Anika’s coworkers try not to seem too nosy, but some have their heads slightly turned in her direction. “John, you’re bothering the poor dear.”

“I’m not bothering her; am I bothering you?” John asks in a demanding tone. Anika’s not sure what answer he expects, but she shakes her head, a strained smile on her face, “See.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re bothering her, John; come on, if you’re that bored, I’m sure we can find you something else to do.” You grab his arm, tugging lightly; he takes a step, then turns back to Anika, “You can get the report sent up to you; now come on.” You tug a few more times, and he finally turns to leave; you move to follow but pause, hand reaching out to Anika’s vase. Sweet peas and yellow lilies sprout from nothing, “Should last you longer than the last ones,” you tell her.

Her head snaps to you, as do the heads of everyone else, but you just chuckle and leave them with a wink. Anika leaves an offering at every altar in the building for a whole week after, a grand gesture of thanks that she’s still breathing. She’s on her way to damage control when she bumps into you; she steps back and thanks you profusely.

“No problem at all,” you tell her, “feel free to come to me if you need any help.”

She nods, watching you as you go by, then averts her gaze when Homelander rounds the corner. You take one of his arms, disrupting his perfect posture, threading your fingers through his; you almost skip in the corridor - Anika leaves extra on that offering.

Whatever Ashley did in a past life to deserve this, she’d like to repent for now at this very instance.

Of course, you happen to fall sick on the day of a major interview, and of course, the doctors forbid you from leaving the bed until it's passed. The first wave of get-well-soon flowers get returned when your sneezing makes them explode; Homelander practically bars anyone aside from the doctors from stepping foot in your shared suite.

“John, I can’t get better if you chase away the doctors.” You try to sit up, but John pushes you back down, wrapping you to your neck in blankets. It wasn’t anything too serious, most likely just a cold; a week’s worth of bed rest should do you some good. The doctors had been sent to double-check and make sure the diagnosis was correct; you wrangle your hands from the cocoon you’re in, taking John’s hands in yours. “Dear, I don’t need to be buried in mountains of blankets.”

“Yes, you do,” he insists, “that’s what people do when they’re sick.”

Ashley nods her head to herself, he’s not wrong, but she thinks he might be smothering you - not that she says that aloud. Homelander hasn’t left your side since you woke up with the cough; he’d thrown out all the flowers when someone had commented on pollen allergies - not that he knows if you’ve got them - you’re decked head to toe in cozy clothing. An hour ago, the heating had been up to the max, but you’d put it back down after Ashely had shown some discomfort.

“Homelander, sir,” she interrupts, gulping when Homelander turns to her with crimson eyes, “the interview starts in —” she ducks, barely managing to dodge the laser from his eyes.

“What did I say about the interview?”

She whimpers, “The executives said….” her eyes dart away, “....they said it’s not an option.”

Your coughing fit draws his attention away from her, and she sighs in relief; he speeds off, returning with a glass of water. He puts the edge of the cup by your lips, you manage half the glass, but Homelander doesn’t move, insisting you finish the rest. He pushes your hair back, shirking off his glove, and placing the back of his hand on your forehead - your running temperature is running almost as high as he usually does. The medicine they’d given you had been sickeningly sweet, and even now, John could still smell it in your breath - you’re eyes droop, and you’re on the verge of nodding off, yet stubbornly, you refuse to sleep until this matter is resolved.

“Sleep,” John demands, but you shake your head.

“Not until you promise to go to the interview.” Your voice is raspy, and you’re quite literally hanging on a thread; your mind is foggy, and your limbs feel heavy; the plush comfort of the bed lulls you further and further from the waking world. “John,” you persist until he groans, agreeing to it; once you’re sure he’s not just saying it to get you off his back, you give in to the fatigue. John tucks you in bed, a kiss on your head; he switches off the lights and drags Ashley out of the room.

“You don’t leave them alone for anything,” he seethes, “I don’t care if the building catches fire; you stay by their side until I’m back. Got it?”

Ashley nods, eyes wide as she tries not to wince at the tight grip the supe has on her forearm; Homelander straightens back to his signature posture, and she tries not to quiver at the way he scrutinizes her. She walks back into the room where you rest, grabbing a chair; she puts it close to the bed but moves back when the room takes on a scarlet glow. Homelander’s footsteps echo as he leaves; your face is half hidden under the blankets, and she doesn’t reach out to touch you - on the off chance your maniac’s using his x-ray vision to spy on her. She takes back what she’d been thinking earlier; she’d obviously been lucky enough not to be stuck with Homelander in this life.

Channel One prided itself in being the first at everything; over the years, they’d been the first to interview Vought and give the public the best of what journalism had to offer. Today, they had the luck of interviewing the it couple at Vought - Homelander and Bloodroot - the opposites that attracted the title’s still in work. Jennifer prided herself in being the one to catch this interview - the last interview hadn’t been a bust per se, but you’d been sick, and Homelander had been on edge the whole time.

She’d gotten a double couch for you and Homelander to sit on, and an armchair for herself, an assortment of flowers had been arranged for you - anthuriums for hospitality and heathers for admiration - not the usual combo they’d pick for guests but anything vaguely romantic like a rose might have her losing her arm to the Homelander. The live studio audience sounded excited; they murmured among themselves as they anticipated your arrival. They quieted down when you entered the room, followed closely behind by Homelander. You and the supe sat close together on the double couch, his arm draped behind you on the back, his other hand holding one of yours in his lap.

She held out her hand to introduce herself but pulled it back when Homelander stopped you from reaching out. She smoothed down her hands on her skirt, the director signaled, and the cameras started rolling, “Good evening and welcome; tonight, we return with Homelander, accompanied by his partner, Bloodroot.”

The audience clapped, and she handed you the flowers, “From everyone in the studio, we’re happy to see you up and about this week,” she said, ignoring the slight eye roll from the other supe.

You thank her, fingers thrumming on them, the vines twisted around themselves, and they went from bouquet to flower crown; the audience gasped, “So, tell us about your upcoming engagement party, what should we expect for the future of Bloodroot and Homelander?”

“Well, you can expect a lot more of this,” Homelander kisses you; it’s short, but it tugs at the heartstrings, “and a big wedding,” he adds on.

“That’s sweet,” she comments. The interview is a lot easier than the last one, Homelander’s still the egotistical bastard he usually is, but he tries to reign it in - barely. The flower crown on your head remains as elegant as it was when you’d made it, Jennifer has a blast, and the audience has fun chiming in with their own questions. She remembers the first time you and Homelander had an interview with Channel One - it had been at the beginning of your relationship, and the number of proposals you received was astounding.

“So, aside from all that, do the two of you plan to start a family?” Jennifer asks.

You scoff, “Doubt it.”

“I prefer to have my partner’s undivided attention,” Homelander replies, shuffling closer to you. The audience is split in answers; some sigh in disappointment, others cheer - the interview ends with applause; when the cameras stop rolling, and the lights go out, Jennifer watches backstage as Homelander piles treat atop treat, mostly sweet, the two of you stand off in your own little corner, the supe devoted to listening to every word you said.

Hughie would like it on record that this had been Billy’s idea, not his, Billy’s. Because who else would think of kidnapping the world’s most overpowered psychopath's partner - though how they managed to get the jump on you is another matter entirely. Annie had helped; well, as soon as she’d made them all promise nothing would happen to you, screw what happened to Homelander; she wanted assurances you’d be safe.

“They’re not as bad as Homelander.” She’d been arguing back and forth with Billy; the subject of what to do with you had been the hot topic for the past few hours. They couldn’t step foot outside the lead shielded basement without a foolproof plan - Homelander had been rampaging across the country looking for you. “If we try, maybe we can convince them to help us.”

“You’re talking about the same bloke who stood by that fucking cunt,” Billy argued, “They’re married to him for fuck’s sake; what makes you think they don't know about him?”

Annie hesitated, “They’re not like that —”

“Just cause they helped you on your first day doesn’t mean they’re not gonna turn you to mush at the first chance.” Billy points at the wedding photo from last year; it had been as grand as Homelander had said it would be, “They slept with the cunt, they kiss the cunt, they married the cunt, they’re as bad as the cunt.”

“Well, at least I’m trying,” Annie says, “all you’ve come up with is making this a hostage situation as if we have the muscle to handle that.”

“Oh yeah, and what if your friend in there goes back and blabs about us to their husband? What then? You know how Homelander gets; you willing to have your head blown off?”

Hughie turns away as the timer goes off, he opts to hand you your food to avoid getting dragged into the argument again. You’d been placed in the most lead-shielded area of the hideout - Annie had fitted it to be more comfortable than its usual concrete flooring, she’d also brought miscellaneous books from your suite, and you’d been rereading those for the days you were trapped here.

“Any chance you’ll let me walk out of here today?” you ask, but Hughie shakes his head. “Worth a shot,” you shrug.

Hughie doesn’t quite understand you; you’re not as malicious as the other people at Vought, or even most of the supes, so why on Earth did you choose to marry Homelander? Annie had said it was for genuine love, Frenchie had morbidly remarked that maybe you suffered from some form of Stockholm Syndrome, Billy had scoffed - the answers varied and against his better judgment - and the strict rule of not making conversation with you - he asked.

“Oh, well, because he asked,” you replied, glancing down at the ring on your finger; you twist it with a small smile, “and I’d already gone through the trouble of falling in love with him.”

“But he’s —”

“A murderous cunt with the emotional intelligence of a three-year-old on steroids?” you provided, and he nodded, “Yeah, I’ve gotten my fair share of concerned letters from fans and anti-Homelander fans alike. He’s complicated, and —”

There’s a crash upstairs, and Maeve’s voice carries through, she’s just arrived, and no doubt joined the argument. “Any chance you’ll divorce him and help us put him down?”

You shake your head, “Not likely,” you reply, “but I can agree to possibly holding off his murderous tendencies long enough to have you escape in one piece and hopefully making sure he doesn’t hunt you down after.” You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“You know then,” he mutters, “about….” he gestures to nothing, in particular, hand waving around in the air.

“It’s hard to miss, especially when he comes to bed with bits of human still in his hair.”

Hughie leaves you; he finds Annie and Billy have stopped arguing, but they occupy opposite ends of the room, Maeve in between, rubbing her temple and no doubt nursing another headache. “This plan was a mess from the beginning,” she mumbles, “did either of you even think this through?”

“Well, I was thinking we could use them to get Homelander to heel,” Billy voices, “Miss starshine over there wants us to hold hands and sing kumbayah with ‘em.”

“That’s not what I said —”

“ —might as well have.”

“Enough,” Maeve yelled, “Homelander’s been plowing his fist through people’s chests looking for them, he’s burned abandoned lots looking for them, and he’s getting crazier and harder to predict by the second.”

“How bad is it?” M.M asks, finally feeling the need to join the conversation.

“His costume’s more red now that it is blue,” Maeve responds, “We’ve gotta take them back.”

“How? Homelander’s been circling the planet 24/7; he so much as hears their voice outside these walls, we’re dead in a heartbeat.” Frenchie laments.

“Unless,” M.M. chimes in, “what if we leave and then have Maeve respond to an anonymous tip.” He accentuates the last two words with air quotations, “At least a couple hours after we high tail out of here.”

“That’s a stupid idea,” Billy says.

It’s their only idea, at least the only one that doesn’t involve any of them getting killed; they pack up everything and make it look like a construction company moving out and about. They don’t go too far - a lone truck driving speedily away from where Homelander’s partner is found a few hours into the morning would no doubt be suspicious - they park just behind one of the other buildings nearby, hiding away on the second floor of one of them. As planned, Maeve shows up first, Annie and the remaining Seven behind her; they step aside at the sound of a crack in the sky as Homelander lands upfront.

The ground isn’t perfect when he lands, shattering like glass; some of the concrete flies up as he rushes in, and the lead door flies through one of the walls a few minutes later, followed by a frustrated scream, then nothing. There are a few moments of silence, and Annie and Maeve share an uneasy look. Just as they were about ready to follow, the doors swung open, and out came Homelander, you carried bridal style in his arms.

“John, I can walk fine,” they could hear you insisting, but the supe was resolute, flying off before anyone could utter a word.

The Deep lets out a sigh, doubling over on his knees, “Oh, thank god, we found them; I don’t know how much longer I could survive with Homelander that hopped up and manic.”

John doesn’t leave your side even when you get back to Vought towers; the doctors have to work around him as he glares down at each and every one of them. He doesn’t trust the food brought to you and has several of the humans who do bring it to taste it first, waiting to see if any of them pass out or die. You haven’t told him about Annie or Maeve, and you’re not going to; judging by how close he is to punching a hole through the wall, you opt to keep that little nugget of information tucked away.

It’s just the two of you now; John’s bloody uniform is lying in the corner of your shared bathroom, and you’re sitting between his legs, leaning back on him in the bathtub. The bathtub. is spacious enough, but he’s tucked himself in one end with you. You’d already helped him wash off the blood, and he’d taken his time running the soap down your body, reassuring himself you were, in fact, real.

The water’s lukewarm now, so you pat his hand, but it takes a few more pats and a knock on the door to get him to move. You stand from the tub alongside him, but he guides you out, hand on your lower back, as the other grabs one of the robes; he has it gathered up to your neck; he wraps one of the towels around your neck and then opens the door - Ashley goes over a few more details, then leaves you and John to your evening.

“I’ll find them,” John mutters on your skin, “....make sure they die painfully.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

He doesn’t say anything, eyes void as he helps you change into sleep attire, “I’m serious, John, promise me you won’t do anything rash.” He nods stiffly, hugging you so as to hide his face as he mentally plans the demise of your kidnappers.

End Note:

This has been a rather long fic, and I have no idea where it started or where it ended 💀 Stay Hydrated.

#homelander x gender neutral!reader #homelander x reader #the boys imagine #shiterequests #flower language is both fascinating and overwhelming to me #flower 🌸 au

795 notes · View notes

no-droids · 4 years ago

Text

Home

gif credit: @javier-pena

Part Eighteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.5K

Warnings: SMUT, religion kink (maybe?), squirting, consensual stalking/pursuing, canon-typical violence, mention of underage drinking, uhh I believe that’s it but as always, let me know if I’ve forgotten anything please!

A/N: Hey yall!!! So I know this chapter has been a long time coming and though I’m not completely satisfied with it, I hope it brings a little happiness to you for an hour or two while you read! School has been kicking my ass and I’ve been in a bit of an emotional slump recently, but I pulled a few all-nighters to post this on time and it’s finally finished! Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and sent me encouraging words over the past month or so, I hope you enjoy the end of the Sanctuary arc💕

Also like last time, part 2 of my collaboration with @followwhereshegoes will be posted after the chapter!! As a reminder, sweet girl is a reader insert and every imagining of her will be different—this is Lisa’s interpretation of her and her artwork is absolutely gorgeous, so please go give her a follow!

Day 5–11:13am:

You zone out again in the early morning, but that happens a lot. Din always keeps you up so late, all the time, and without any caf here, the rising sun just makes your eyes droop instead of flutter brighter and wider. You helped a bunch of younglings find their way into their robes when it was still dark out, tying sashes and fitting masks while holding back your yawns. The walk into Nariss is close to three hours, probably more with all these tiny little legs, and you almost forget to change into your new digs before everyone grabs breakfast.

Even though your ragtag entourage leaves for Nariss just as soon as everyone finishes eating, you don’t reach the city until nearly lunchtime. Mostly because the kids walk about as fast as the elderly holy women chaperoning the trip. You and Naydee lag behind the group, forcing yourself to meander slow as fuck when you nearly sprinted this same exact path just a few days ago. On the way there, you listen to children of all sorts sing happily as they walk, chatter about their excitement for the parade, complain about wearing the fabric mask they made themselves, and more than once, somebody takes a tumble onto the ground and is left in teary sniffles and dirt stained clothes. Likely for this reason, the robes are designed to be two pieces—a long tunic with a hood and a separate pants portion to prevent tripping instead of a draping skirt, but the smallest ones are clumsy and find a way to fall anyways.

It’s a colorful bunch—a chaotic rainbow of babies running around, and you share easy conversation with your new friend about the plans for the day until she asks something that makes you nearly trip and join the dirty robe club.

“Sister Drya said your family is meeting you in the city,” she tells you, ignoring your immediate subtle toe stub and the awkward shuffle you have to do to make up for it. “There’s going to be lots of people downtown, I’m worried it might be hard for them to find you.”

Your heart thuds in your chest and you feel a bit short of breath at being abruptly confronted with the need to lie, but at the same time, you kind of love it. Having a secret, hiding the truth from others, and just the reminder that you’re almost guaranteed to see Din and the baby before midnight pours warmth and tingles through your tummy. Everything together is a hit of spice, filling you with a kind of excitement that used to be foreign to you. Having fun, experiencing new things isn’t quite over yet, but home is calling and you miss it with every fiber of your being.

“I don’t think so,” you eventually respond, hoping she can see your kind smile and the sentiment it carries even as light, shimmery fabric wraps right around your mouth. “If I disappear, you’ll know why.”

Naydee’s eyes crinkle in the corners to match yours. “Hopefully you’ll be able to see the fireworks first,” she nudges you, her skin glowing against the pale cream fabric she has wrapped around her own mouth and the hood laying delicately over her braids. “They start at eight.”

The fireworks, you almost forgot. You know what? Today is a good day. You hear yourself think the full sentence multiple times, and the words put a spring in your step after every single one. The road gradually becomes wider and filled with more travelers, and you feel safe in the back. Like some kind of sheepdog bringing up the rear of this migrating cluster of children, making sure none of them drift off by themselves and start eating grass or something.

Surprisingly, the kids manage to be relatively patient and well-behaved once they’re in line at the gates. The Sisters shuffle them along one by one as everyone moves up slowly, taking even longer to get into the city than it did a few days ago. The entrance is packed already—so many people visiting for the festival, and they’re all dressed in costumes or robes of sorts, or at least a mask. Most are beautifully crafted, but some manage to look slightly scary even with the soft springtime color schemes. It’s a completely different world, a different life for each person as you pass them by. Your stomach is starting to growl by the time you finally make it to the front, and luckily the guards just let the kids through without any ceremony. Just you and the rest of the caretakers in light robes need to hold still for the retinal scan, matching each other perfectly except for differing shades of fabric, skin, and eye color. Once the gates open for you and you step through, though… it’s… Maker.

Extravagant, magnificent are both words. Floral is another.

It’s like they hung up bouquets wherever they could think to fit them, and this is just the edge of the city. As the group moves through the streets and closer to downtown, it becomes more and more overwhelming. The air itself is a warm fragrance wafting all around you, sunshiney and breezy and perfect, flowers of all kinds lining the modern buildings and archways like they were planted there from the very beginning and it just took this long to bloom between the cracks in the concrete. You wish you had names for all of them so you could list them—the only thing you can offer is the color and vague descriptions of the ones that stick out to you. Tiny yellow ones that are so small, they need to be bunched all together in massive quantities to even resemble normal flowers. Up overhead, elaborate arrangements of enormous blue and purple and pink ones, wrapping around each other and hanging down from rooftops. Some don’t even have petals, it’s like they’re big green cups that are big enough to hold things inside them. You’re fascinated by every single one, wanting to stop and smell them all individually but needing to keep up with the large group and not allow any stragglers to be left behind, including yourself.

About an hour later, when you’re almost in the middle of the city and there are people everywhere, it’s time to eat lunch. There isn’t much to it because of how expensive it is, and you’d normally feel bad for accepting the small meal each one of the children gets, but you donated all of your credits to the Keja and left absolutely zero for yourself. Good intentions, terrible idea. Still, you pull your mask down and snack on some deliciously fried food, trying not to eye anyone else’s platter after you finish yours. It’s so good and it’s gone in an instant; you couldn’t even say what exactly it was besides which stall you got it at. Whether it’s just the brilliant atmosphere or if the food on this moon is really just that good, you’re not really sure, but you’re still slightly hungry afterwards with no extra money to sneak a snack.

Soon after, the kids all line up to get their faces painted, or whatever portion of their face is visible behind the cloth masks and hoods they’ve got on, and music blares from at least four different directions and none of the songs are even in the same language. Depending on the part of town, it seems like the celebrations are all different. It makes sense, considering most if not all of these individuals were victims of the Empire’s wrath, spread far and wide across the galaxy. Here, they’re free, and they want everyone to know it. Spring festivals of some sort are likely common for most cultures, at least those from planets with seasons, not like Arvala-7 where it was arid and hot year-round, and you’re assuming there are multiple things being celebrated today depending on which street you live on. There’s chanting in different tongues, dancing and drums, outfits and masks from different cultures every single time you look.

At some point, the children spot a crowded street with flowery rails set up all along them, and you stand behind the tiny heads while everyone waits for the parade to begin. You think your heart has just been beating slightly faster than normal all day today, but when you finally hear the sound of sirens blaring in the distance and cheers begin to pour out from the gathered crowd, it kicks up and you feel like you’re just as wide eyed at the spectacle as the waist-high babies all huddled together up against the railing.

A flurry of people and things pass in slow succession. First, New Republic officers with their blaring holobikes, bright orange as always. Then come large groups of people walking behind banners in languages you can’t read, some of them waving, some of them making different sounds and songs. Bands marching in formation, dancers in dresses and masks and gorgeous flowers in their hair like crowns, and then brilliant hovering vehicles decorated in bright colors and festive depictions. The craftsmanship and cultural significance is stunning to witness, it’s so insanely loud, there’s so much going on, and yet…

Through it all, you think of Din. No matter the faces, the sights you see. There’s someone juggling. There’s either a very tall man and woman walking together or they’re both on stilts. There are enormous balloons being led through the air, people are riding atop an assortment of animals you’ve never seen before, there are traditional costumes and spectacular stunts being performed. Stalls with games and prizes line the stretches of concrete on the cross streets, people are laughing and celebrating and drinking in equal parts, everything is so lively and festive and fun, and yet, though it all, you think of Din. Him and the baby, they’re always in the forefront of your mind, occupying your thoughts and making your tummy stir more and more as the time passes like the parade in front of you. You don’t think this environment would ever be his favorite, and in some far away galaxy, perhaps if you lived other lives together and called a beautiful moon exactly like this home, then you might have to drag him out to see all the with you and the kid every year. You’d have to bat your eyelashes and kiss his cheek and snuggle up to him all nice and pretty like, and he’d probably grumble and complain about it while wrapping his arms around you—all the people and the noise, sweet girl—but he’d go. For you, he’d go.

Your thoughts suddenly stop short and you blink for a second. Why… Why was that scene so vivid? So wistful? You used to preoccupy yourself with fantasies about Din all the time, back before you even knew him as Din. But in every single one, it was sexual and likely came from a place of boredom, a lack of external stimulation. Here you are amidst bustling surroundings, and you’re daydreaming about domesticity with him. Why? You want to travel the galaxy, right? You want to see things you’ve never seen before, right?

For some reason, you think of the floor, and you miss it.

***

Day 5—5:04pm:

It’s late afternoon at this point and nobody can find the teens.

More people have made their way into the city and it’s starting to get extremely fucking crowded, especially where you are downtown, and the handful of them must’ve slipped away with all the excitement happening and how difficult it is to keep the young ones together now that the parade is over. You don’t know how long they’ve been gone—one second they were walking around just slightly detached from the rest of you, you assumed because the boisterous younglings fucked with their cool vibe, and then the next Naydee is gasping out to you that they’re gone.

“Sister Drya is going to kill me,” she hisses, her dark eyebrows furrowed in self-admonishment and stress. So many fucking people here, you know her pain. “I was supposed to be chaperoning them, they were just here—”

She shakes her head under the loose, cream-colored hood, groaning and then speeding up her gait to catch up with the woman in charge, but you decide to grab her wrist before she can relay the bad news.

“I can go find them,” you offer, speaking as low as you can with the blaring noise surrounding you. “Before anyone knows they’re missing. Is there a way to convince everybody to stay in one spot for a little while? You won’t get in trouble, but I need to know how to find you again.”

Naydee’s eyes widen in surprise, and even though it’s likely a bit out of character for you, you have a feeling it’ll be a deceptively easy task. Even with the masses right now and how atrociously big this city is, you already have a general idea of where they’re likely to be. Besides, you’re not even sure your absence will be noticed if Naydee is the only one who figured out the teens were gone—the other Sisters can thrive without you while missing anyone else would be noticeable, and you owe your new friend a thousand favors for helping you out these past few days. The least you can do is save her from the scolding of one of the scariest old ladies you've ever met.

“Be as quick as you can,” she finally agrees. It’s a lot of trust to put into you, but you’ve had experience in reading the most unreadable man in the entire galaxy, some teenagers shouldn’t pose too much of a problem. “If you’re not back in thirty minutes or somebody notices, I’ll have to say something.”

You nod, silently breaking away from the group without another word. You think you can hear her announce to everyone that it might be best to eat dinner now to skip any long lines later—smart—but you’re out of their hearing range and line of sight almost immediately.

***

Day 5–5:17pm:

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow since they won’t be able to see the way your mouth is twisted up underneath your mask, crossing your arms and tapping your foot against the ground to further illustrate just how not fucking impressed you are.

Seven teenagers freeze, and slowly—depending on how much bravery they can individually muster—they turn around on their stools to face you. The atmosphere in the tavern is bustling and cheery, booze being passed around a large crowd that laughs and mingles, but your vibe is stone cold and quiet. The contrast doesn’t feel wrong on you like it normally would; the negative and disapproving energy you’re emitting makes you feel powerful, untouchable, armored and strong.

“How did you find us so fast?” One of the twin boys squeaks out behind a light blue robe, sounding worried.

“Had a hunch,” you grumble, glaring sternly at each of them in turn. Your tone is dry, your voice sits lower in your throat when you’re pissed off. All you had to do was look for the closest bar that doesn’t have any orange jumpsuits poking around waiting to card underage younglings, it wasn’t that difficult. “You’re not exactly unpredictable.”

“Are you gonna rat us out?” The other twin asks you, in a voice that’s oddly deep compared to his brother.

“I should,” you snap, quickly reaching out to push their drinks away. “I should let Sister Drya rain down her holy fury on your asses, got good people all twisted up over you for nothing and I’m missing dinn—”

You don’t know why, but you suddenly cut yourself off and jerk upright, spinning around.

The sounds of glasses clinking and boisterous voices fill the bar, but they seem to fade out for a second. Your eyes fly around the crowded space, your heart lodged in your throat and looking for anything reflective. Every flash you see is a false alarm—belt buckle, wristwatch, cocktail shaker—

He’s here… isn’t he?

Only, there’s nothing. Nothing is out of place, nothing jumps out at you the way you’re assuming it will. You’re braced taut and ready to bolt at the first sign of a chase, but it never comes.

It’s so… unexpected, this feeling. It’s not like you’re being hunted anymore, but instead, you’re the hunter. You’re feeling the weight of him from this far away and it’s like he’s calling for you to come find him, teasing the wild adrenaline rush you get from just feeling his presence, as if he absolutely knows it happens. Whispering soft in your ear and then vanishing the second you’re able to turn around, like he’s here but he’s not. Playing with you from so far away.

This… this is a taunt.

The whole thing at the inn was leagues below this, that was rudimentary. Teasing, getting even, having fun with each other, whatever you want to call that, that’s what it was. This is scarily sophisticated. Fluid and practiced and the best kind of frightening, stark and dangerous compared to the carefree and upbeat setting surrounding you. You’re not making it up, it’s not just you being paranoid. You know him with your eyes closed. You know he’s here somewhere watching you, just like you know the starlight that streaks across the pitch black horizon of hyperspace. Not because you can see it, not really, not directly. But because by it, even in the vastest and darkest and emptiest of voids, you’re suddenly able to see everything else.

“You okay, Nerida?”

The volume gradually comes back up and you blink, suddenly remembering where you are, who else is with you. The chatter becomes slightly louder than it seemed before.

“Yeah,” you eventually say, slightly airy while continuing to stare emptily at the crowded room. He’s not here, you don’t think, not anymore at least. But you’re not stupid, you know what this means. You’re already caught, there’s nothing you can conceivably do that will delay the reunion for the next—you look down and pull the loose sleeve up to check your communicator—seven fucking hours, there’s no way. He’ll pull back and follow you, keep up with you from a distance and then snatch you away right when you let your guard down. You at least need to get the kids back to their guardians before that can happen, though.

“Let’s go,” you quietly tell the group of foundlings, grabbing elbows and hauling them out of their stools. “Naydee was the only one who knew that you were gone when I left. Here’s to hoping she managed to keep it that way.”

***

Day 5–5:32pm:

Against all odds, you’re able to rally the wayward teens and successfully lead them through shoulders that are beginning to move closer together as the crowd grows and grows. You stay towards the back and don’t look behind you once—not only do you not want to give the younglings an unnecessary reason to become paranoid or to question your actions, but you can still feel Din lingering. Moving like a shadow, probably fitting in perfectly with the masked festival-goers, nothing drawing any attention to him with all the spectacular sights and noise occurring.

Soon you return to the same spot from before, and you and the teenagers seamlessly integrate yourselves back into the rest of the group without anyone noticing a thing is out of place. When you move to stand beside her, Naydee’s bone-deep sigh of relief is palpable even behind the concealing fabric; she squeezes your hand incredibly tight in a silent gesture of thanks, and then pulls something from the deep pockets of her robe and passes it to you sneakily. A purple fruit. She must’ve saved it for you.

Maker, fuck yes. It’s not much but it’s more dinner than any of the seven troublemakers get, but Naydee quietly assures you they’ll be able to eat something once they return to the Keja around midnight, just not the tasty expensive treats they’re selling at the vendors. As the sun goes down, you try not to stain your pretty fabric a deep maroon as you chomp and feel your lips start to curl upwards. It sounds so fucking stupid when you put it like this, but you keep going back to Din and revelling in knowing that he’s so close, like you’re just mentally checking in on him. You don’t get the sensation by thinking, though—more like you just focus really hard on your heart and feel him there just a second afterwards.

Is that how pure, stupid, shameless love feels when you’re completely entrenched in it? It’s not like it’s surrounding you, it’s not suffocating you or making you float. It’s just a thing. Like… a thing inside your chest, a physical thing you can search for and find, something you can point to on your body and say it’s right here, this is where my love for him lives. Right at the bottom of your heart, right where it curves and beats strong when other hearts meet flat at sharp angles. You do it over and over again, reconfirming its existence every single time. You don’t know what else you’d call it. Love is the only word. To love, to know. To hold in the heart.

Soon, you start to notice that people are slowly moving around your stationary group. You look up and watch the crowd begin to walk, some of them giving soft smiles to the cute children as they pass by, but all of them following the same unspoken direction.

“Where is everyone going?” You ask Naydee, standing on your tiptoes to watch the crowd migrate like a giant system, an organism or mechanism of thousands (or tens of thousands?) of smaller moving parts all traveling in tandem. It’s fascinating—you’ve been to crowded places, you know what it looks like when a lot of people are packed into one area, but you’ve never seen what it looks like when they all move together. They would normally be bumping into each other, slipping in between, fighting and never really getting anywhere, interacting individually and thinking separately. Now they’re progressing in one single direction, so many with the same mindset and understanding of what comes next. A second parade, almost, with New Republic officers directing the flow of pedestrians as they pass.

“The eastern part of the city!” Naydee yells over the noise and points, and beyond her extended finger, you can barely see the light of a dusky body of water in the distance beyond the buildings. “The fireworks are going to go off over the bay, but it takes awhile to get there!”

“Is…” You blink for a second, suddenly caught off guard, trying to think back to the holomap the concierge pulled up at the front desk of the inn. Surely you would’ve noticed it, but your sudden childlike hope makes you ask anyway. “Is it part of an ocean?”

Naydee shakes her head. “A really big lake!”

Your shoulders drop just the slightest bit in disappointment but still, you ache to see it. You can’t even imagine—the fireworks are likely going to reflect across the water, giving everyone double the view. And luckily, after all the children and caretakers are individually accounted for, you start to behind the slow-moving crowd towards the docks you know lie beyond.

Naydee scurries ahead to keep the kids together, ushering them forward and preventing any drunk passer-bys from accidentally stepping on them, and you quietly bring up the very rear of the entourage. You take the time to observe more than anything, walk in the back and experience instead of trailblaze. So many people, so many stories to be told, so many differences and diversity around you. Your face is partially concealed and you don’t move your head too much, just your eyes. They flick around to take in everything, the crowd thinning little by little as you make it out of the confined space downtown. You’re able to make out full bodies and outfits again instead of just heads and shoulders, allowing you to breathe just a bit easier under your mask.

And then at one point—and it’s almost a little startling because it happens all at once—the organizers must decide that the sun has officially gone down, because the lights come on. All of a sudden, paper lanterns and bulbs flicker into existence all around you and the world decides it wants to glow, glint and twinkle from the inside out. They’re everywhere, draping across rooftops and tangled around street signs and stuffed into the flower bouquets overhead, raining soft colors down on everything. You’re in complete awe, trying to keep walking but also needing to look at as much as fucking possible in the suddenly luminescent city. It’s so colorful, so vernal and warm and you feel like you’re… Like when you took a shower on the Crest for the first time and spent a few happy moments just playing with the water and soap for your own enjoyment, it’s as if all the brilliant rainbow of colors the bubbles would make under the fluorescent light decided to surround you at the same time. You’re inside stained glass, blinking at the flowers and wondering if Din can even smell the air or if it’s filtered, processed and reduced to nothing under the helmet.

And that’s when you see him.

But with the way your chest rapidly constricts and you can count your heart beats as they pound, blaring white noise through your ears and adrenaline through your veins, it’s like he's just allowing it to happen. You immediately understand that you don’t have fucking anything the second your eyes land on him; this isn’t a heads up that you caught wind of early, it’s not a gift or an advantage you’ve incidentally gained over him that you should be thankful for. Being able to see him directly like this, being able to make out all these fucking details from this far away… This just feels like you’re being informed of the endgame right before it comes. If you were anyone else, if you were a real bounty and this was a real hunt, his armor glinting and reflecting the lanterns overhead would feel like a knife you're about to be on the wrong side of.

You have a decision to make, very quickly. Either keep in this same direction, head straight towards him and just pretend like you are who you’re dressed as, a random caretaker for a bunch of rowdy foundlings during a spring festival on Nariss, or disappear. Drop back, move through the crowd and use the distance you have between you right now as your only hope of getting away in time. Neither one gives you a particular advantage—your chances of being caught have already skyrocketed exponentially just being able to see the reflection in his armor, the hovering shield at his side with big black eyes… staring directly at you.

You almost trip over your pantlegs, gasping. Baby. He beams at you and you think he calls out through the passing crowd, his tiny arms extending out, and your chest feels like you’re pulling organs as if they were muscles, cramping up and seizing with emotion. You want to run to them even though you’re meant to be running from them, call out over the noise and wave even though you’re not supposed to. You want to hold the kid again, squish his little forehead with kisses, walk around with Din’s hand pressed against your lower back and see the fireworks with him.

Your hands clutch at the draping fabric covering your chest, pulling and twisting it uncertainly. What do you do, what do you do?

No matter what, you know it’s over. Keep your head down and try to move past him, or break away from your group and try to escape—both are different paths that lead to the same result. What’s the point of running when he’s the one chasing you? The heart-pounding thrill is the only reason you’re even considering it, but his body stands so tall amongst the crowd, not moving while people ebb and flow like a river passing around him.

Except then you can hear his voice repeat the last thing he said to you in person as if he says it directly into the comm in your ear. When you do see me… try to outrun.

You should run—run, it’s better than just hoping he doesn’t see you when you already know he does.

Unless…

Out of a trillion different possibilities, you soon realize that there is exactly one situation in which this could turn out in your favor. You can immediately picture the scenario in your mind, but there’s just too many variables to conceivably rely on getting them all right. This maybe has a… two percent chance of working? Maybe? Everything would have to go perfectly, just fucking flawlessly, but what other choice do you have? Two percent is better than whatever odds you’re dealing with now.

You walk silently behind the group of foundlings as you approach closer and closer, keeping your head purposefully down as they skip and giggle and dance ahead. He knows you’re here—he has to know, you’re counting on him knowing. Walk right in front of him, pretend like you don’t see, make sure you keep left. Keep left, keep left, keep your head down, keep your head down—

A leather glove suddenly catches hold of your wrist hard enough to tug you backwards.

Your gasp is audible over the sound of the crowd and you spin around, jerking your head up to look at him in fear. Your heart slams as the beskar reflects your mask and hood back at you—you’re terrified and it shows, you can see it in your eyes.

You quickly try to yank your hand away, even as your index finger stretches up towards the communicator around his wrist.

“Miss Nerida?” A child’s voice cries, and then small hands grab at you from behind as you bury the urge to actually fight him. Your instincts are demanding you attack when his grip is this strong, but you just whine and struggle, slapping weakly at him with your free hand and feeling more of the younglings begin to pull at you, their high pitched voices calling more and more attention to the scene.

Your gaze flicks to the side, suddenly landing on a pair of New Republic officers helping direct the thousands of moving bodies from the closest street corner. They’re looking at you, pointing and beginning to speak into their own comm units. Din’s helmet snaps sideways to follow your gaze, and then he’s immediately dropping your wrist and stepping back, retreating as quickly as he caught you. Though you don’t want to—though you don’t want to give yourself away even more, you want to pretend fully that he was a complete stranger and the children were right to try to help you get away—your eyes fall to your son in the hovering crib by his side and you feel yourself crumble just a bit.

Just a few more hours, kid. A few more hours.

Children pull you away while your pursuers both disappear into the crowd, and you quickly turn to soothe the tiny babies instead of chasing after the one you miss so terribly.

“I’m alright,” you tell them, scooting them up and encouraging them to continue walking. Blend in, blend in, don’t let anybody think anything is wrong. “Come on, we’re fine, come on, we have to catch up.”

They take your lead as soon as one of the caretakers turns around and sees the small group crowding around you. You think she asks what happened, but you just tell her a man mistook you for someone else and nothing more comes of it. She’s able to settle the chaos better than you are, and by the time you’re continuing to travel forwards once more like nothing happened, the communicator suddenly flicks on in your ear.

“What did you do?” He breathes out, his footsteps moving fast through his voice. He’s traveling much quicker than you expected—is he still being followed? The officers are gone from your sight, they might be going after him right now, weaving between bodies and calling out to the perpetually vanishing glint of armor as he navigates his way out of danger.

You look down at the comm on your wrist and your heart nearly soars with victory. It worked. It worked. You just have to outlast a bit longer, don’t draw any extra attention to it—he’s preoccupied and he certainly doesn’t sound happy, but you hope that’ll be enough to make him slip. Use his frustration to your advantage, let him think the only thing you were successful at was momentarily escaping him.

“The cops weren’t part of the plan,” you admit quietly, keeping your head down as your loose hood billows in the twilight breeze. “Don’t get caught.”

There’s a few moments of just his breathing, his footsteps, and the noise floor humming through the comm, before he finally responds. “You look beautiful.”

You stare unseeingly down at the concrete under your feet, still feeling your hand tingle from where he caught you. The line abruptly mutes on his end and you just keep moving forward, onward, wanting to look back but knowing he’s already long gone.

***

Day 5–5:24pm:

Din is fucking furious.

He had you. You were right there, right in front of him, and even if he hadn’t been subtly trailing you all day, seeing the red footsteps get covered and flicker out of existence just a few moments after you make them, he would’ve recognized you anywhere. In black and white, in the fading light, with your face covered, children calling you by a different name and attaching themselves to you like they’ve known you forever—doesn’t matter, he would’ve known you. Your eyes have always given you away, always so expressive and starry and soft, but able to see right through solid steel whenever you look at him.

But then you slipped from his grasp, and then more guards pushed him further and further away from you. They must all be in constant communication, because every single jumpsuit he sees immediately spots him and starts following. It’s fucking exhausting, and he thinks of you the whole time.

He waits in a dark alley with the kid and taps the side of the helmet a few times to bring up the time on his comm, but then relaxes just slightly when he sees the hour. It’s earlier than he thought it was, he’ll be able to find you again.

Though, something tugs at him while he’s looking at the clock ticking away in front of his eyes, counting down each second that passes. There was… a moment. Back in the square, when he was holding onto you again, when you were looking directly into his once more—everything in his helmet—

No, he shakes his head while the kid looks up at him curiously, it can’t be. It was just a split second, it was gone so fast.

But he can’t get rid of it. Though there’s no explanation, he thinks the display screen flickered. The sky behind you looked different for a single frame, your footsteps weren’t bright red and visible anymore, your eyes weren’t grey and he stopped wondering what shade of fabric you and your friend decided to choose for you to wear. It was silvery, he’s almost certain. Like his armor, it only reflected the color of everything around it.

Color. Everywhere. Bursting for a blink of an eye, and then gone just as quick, before he could actually figure out what it really meant.

***

Day 5–6:59pm:

This water is quiet here, but it sparkles.

It doesn’t ever really get truly dark thanks to the enormous hanging moon and ringed gas giant dancing with Sanctuary II, constantly reflecting light back onto the surface and reacting with some of the trace chemicals up above the atmosphere, and you think the sky just might be the prettiest you’ve ever seen it. Must have something to do with the equinox, the glimmering angles of light being played with by celestial bodies in this stunning system, but it’s a dream. The Maker apparently couldn’t decide which colors he wanted tonight so he just splashed all of them together all at once, let them run and blend like ink in the gentle water below, like the various people who call this moon home.

That view in front of you, coupled with all the flowers and lanterns lining the streets behind you, and you’ve lost track of time the exact same way you hoped Din would. You think you’ve stood for about an hour or so in this one spot, half-listening to excited chatter from the babies, mostly just gazing across the stretch of water and being able to just barely spot the docks in the distance, but it feels like it’s only been minutes.

You check your watch—the fireworks should be starting any second now. You don’t know what to expect, just that in your experience, explosions tend to be loud. You've decided you’re not going to plug your ears, though. Tummy twisting with nerves and another inexplicable feeling you can’t quite put your finger on, you resolve to experience the unknown exactly the way it’s meant to be. Fully, without worry or fear.

Then, lacking any warning or ceremony whatsoever, a single flare launches silent and high from one of the small boats skimming the bay, and the crowd seems to hold its collective breath as the dim light disappears into thin air for a split second, before—

It’s… quite possibly the most dazzling thing you think you’ve ever seen. So shamelessly decorative just for the sake of it, not serving any other practical purpose besides celebration and visual spectacle, and you’ll probably never know another extravagance like it. You grew up with dust pelting against tired eyes, you never thought they’d get to reflect such gorgeous bursts of color back up at the sky, glassy and childlike amongst a group of equally wide-eyed children.

As expected, a deafening boom follows closely behind the singular display, but just witnessing it is incredible enough to make you forget to brace yourself for the sound and you jump almost violently in response. There comes a loud cheer from the people standing around you, a few delighted gasps and children who decide now is the best time to start crying, but then more flares begin to launch from the boats and the subsequent show will sear itself into your memory to replay over and over again.

Still, you think the endless sky and dark water below would have to light on fire to stop him from coming to mind.

Din.

You click the comm on, continuing to stare in stunned awe but wanting nothing more than to hear his voice right now, feel his hand rest on your lower back and the kid’s three fingers squeezing one of yours while the stars rain down from above. You’re only continuing to run from him because it’s expected of you, that’s the reason you’re here, but it’s becoming harder and harder to argue with yourself. “Do you always see in black and white?”

It takes him just a few seconds to respond, but he always does. “Only when I’m tracking someone.”

The loud booms can be heard over the earpiece, happening maybe a second after they crack and sparkle above you. You can’t tell if the latency is due to the electronics or if he’s just that far away from the source of the sound itself, but… you don’t think he is. He feels close again, like he could just walk up right next to you any second, or maybe that’s just how he always feels now.

“Does that mean you haven’t seen the sky here?” You ask after a moment. This whole time, everything has been grey for him?

“I saw it,” Din murmurs, and even though it’s quiet and explosions are thundering loud enough to deafen more sensitive ears, his quiet voice somehow breaks through it all. “When you left the Crest, I saw it behind you.”

For some reason, you suddenly feel like crying. Whether it’s the way he phrases it or the sentiment in the words, you’re close to tears without even knowing why, looking up at the sky illuminating spectacularly. He says it like he wasn’t the one who parked on this moon and told you to go on without him. “Can you… turn it off for just a second?”

He takes a second, before clarifying for you. “I turn it off and I lose your footprints.”

So that was the ultimatum. He doesn’t want to turn it off until you’re back with him again. Does he not understand? Does he not know what you know? Maybe you just happened to feel it first, this overwhelming physical sensation inside you whenever you think about him. It’s like the exact opposite of a hole in your chest. And it’s so odd, so counterintuitive. Being comforted in his absence, feeling him with you when he isn’t. Falling in love in the dark, knowing him without ever seeing him.

“You never needed them,” you say, reaching up to pull your mask down under your jaw and chin for a moment, wanting to freely breathe the freshwater and flowers while stars explode and fracture across the sky. It’s a truth you’re acknowledging, something you’ll carry with you, something you fundamentally own at this point. “You’d find me without the helmet. And I’d find you.”

The fireworks continue to bleed into the water beneath them, multicolor splashes rippling into existence and disappearing just as quick. You could’ve never imagined a more colorful, magnificent landscape—besides your waterfall on Naboo, of course. That was a pure product of nature though, a place hidden away and untouched by people, completely sacred. Light refracting against mist, natural glass that would shatter under your weight. This is a celebration of life and family. Loud in a different way, affecting you in a different way, but just as wonderful and touching. A cultivated paradise, designed to be beautiful and safe only because they wanted it to be.

“Think so?” He asks softly. He sounds so deep and warm, but… a little distant. You’re able to hear it in his words. You don’t know why, though. Doesn’t he believe you? Perhaps… perhaps this isn’t The Way. Perhaps this is part of a completely different oath, one where knowing and loving somebody isn’t the same thing as looking at their face, not at all. Where you can have them exist entirely separate from each other, because this is love. This is real, enduring, bone-deep love, and you haven’t ever seen his face, so how would he explain that? How would the Mandalorians reconcile that? You bear the mark of the mudhorn, you’ve moved through time and space with him, you’re a mother to his son, and you’ve never seen his face. It defies both the Mandalorian oath and traditional understandings of love, or it meets them right in the middle, depending on how you look at it.

“I know so.” For the first time, you think you might sound more confident and certain than he does. Maybe he doesn’t fully get it yet, but then you suppose he’ll just have to trust you. “Will you look at the sky?”

“I see it,” Din tells you, but you know he doesn’t. Not the way you want him to. And stars, you just want so many things for him, don’t you? The sky, fresh air, water, light, food, rest. You want him to see the galaxy the way you do—have a new appreciation for the gifts that are given just because you’re alive to experience them. All the physics and mathematics aligned perfectly for it to happen—all the chemistry, the systems, the dynamics that dictate the universe, they all got together and crafted a world where you, him, and the kid all exist together at the same time. You want him to know the significance of that.

“With color?” You ask, knowing his answer before he seems to.

“I…” Din wants to argue, or at least say it again. He can’t or he’ll lose you, he already told you he doesn’t want to turn the setting off. It’s such an unnecessary conflict, but you want to respect it so much that you’re willing to give up things of your own to make it happen.

“How do I fix it then?” You whisper, so desperately wanting this one thing for him, this one grandeur to behold. How do you fix this problem? How do you convince him to look with you? You’d offer to just go and find him instead of continuing to run away for the next few hours, but you know the show will be over soon and you don’t have much time left. “Do you want me to come look for you? It’ll be too late by then, you’re too far away. Look at the sky.”

It’s silent for a moment—truly silent, even though colorful bombs are going off above the bay. You don’t know why you’ve attached yourself to this so strongly, but it’s almost devastating when you don’t get a response. You look away from the spectacle for the first time in an eternity, gazing unseeingly into the crowd of onlookers with a sudden sadness taking hold of you. He won’t look, he’s too stubborn, he holds onto things too tightly.

But then, a flurry of flares start launching in rapid succession from the distant boats, screaming and crying on their way up and then igniting into showers of light, and the abrupt increase in activity manages to catch your attention once again. This must be the end, they saved the best for last. Every corner of the horizon flashes and sparks, and you’re mesmerized at how bright it is, how many colors they’ve managed to fit into one single frame.

“It’s beautiful,” comes his voice, and the smile that you break into feels just right for the brilliance of the view above you. Maker, it is, isn’t it? Now you can hear it—he sounds like he’s looking at it too, with color, in all its breathtaking glory, and you feel like you’re flying. Like he picked you up and let you watch up close, like you can feel his armor under your fingers right now as he carries you through the sky.

It swells up inside you, a rising wave similar to the ones you can see in the distance, and you know you probably shouldn’t say it because it’s not in your best interest to say it right now, but you have to say it anyways. It’s an unknowable compulsion, a need to connect and communicate directly with him but for your sake, not presently, not at this exact moment in time.

Luckily, you mute your comm just in time and simply give the words to him from very far away.

“Hurry up,” you say, sending the sentiment into the sky with all your love, and the conflicting hope that he won’t take the advice until a bit later on. “Come and find me.”

***

Day 5–7:37pm:

After the fireworks are over, people start to drift off in separate directions, clearing the traffic and congestion from the streets around you. Someone puts their hand on your shoulder and you blink a few times, spinning around and almost stepping on a bunch of tiny little feet by accident.

Stars, that’s a lot of children. They’re all crowded around Naydee, who pats a few heads and almost buckles under the younglings clinging to her leg.

“Figured you would be long gone by now,” she grins at you from behind her mask, and you’re reminded to pull yours up over your face just from looking at her. “It’s late—we’re going back to the Keja.”

“Oh, shit,” you breathe in surprise, but the noise of the gradually dispersing crowd manages to cover it up. At least from younger, more easily distracted ears, but you think Naydee hears you. Her dark eyes roll good-naturedly, looking happy but exhausted from the long day. You’re going to have to say goodbye now.

“What happened to your family?” She asks after a moment, and you think she’s being careful with the way she says it, likely because family is a difficult topic to navigate in general around some of the children hanging on her and begging for her attention. “Have you been in touch with them? If not, I’m sure you can come back with us. It’ll be late by the time we get there, but at least you’ll be safe.”

You open your mouth to automatically decline her offer, knowing Din is still in the crowded city looking for you and wanting to stay where there’s lots of people.

But then… well, he would expect you to do that, wouldn’t he?

There’s more people here. More danger, but better places to hide. It’s the obvious choice, it’s the one that makes the most logical sense. But you’d also be completely alone and you’re assuming the only reason he hasn’t snatched you up yet—which you know he could’ve done multiple times by now, is likely because you’re with a group of innocent foundlings, moody teenagers, and very stern older women. He probably doesn’t realize you’ve told them about him and the kid, though you were slightly vague on the details.

It’s also a little over three hours to get back, but you’re banking on it being closer to four with how whiney and tired some of the small voices sound, others sounding like they’re an enormous sugar rush contained into a tiny little capsule. Would he have the gall to try and get you right from under their noses? Will he even know you left the city, or will he assume you made the smartest decision possible and simply account for it ahead of time? No, you're overthinking it, just make a decision and stick with it.

“There’s also free food,” Naydee shrugs while you’re still considering, but… well, that settles that. Almost three days of friendship and she already knows exactly how to win you over in the end. Sustenance for your empty tummy, an escort the entire way there, and heavily guarded walls beyond. Din will have to get creative in response—you flaunted your imagination for days, coming up with dozens of evasion tactics to outlast him, but this one just seems… incredibly practical. Exploiting a weakness of his—isolating it, having it be reinforced by precedent, and then taking advantage of it. You bet he’ll catch on, but still, it’ll make it more difficult for him, and you’re grasping at straws to hang on just a little longer.

“I…” Quick, come up with something. You clear your throat. “The city is too crowded, I haven’t been able to find them. I could just… tell them where I’m headed and see if they can find me along the way?”

Naydee smiles and nods. “Sounds perfect.”

Yet, the entire walk back… you keep thinking you’re going to feel Din trailing behind you, waiting to feel the nerves twist in your tummy and your palms to sweat, but you don’t. You keep glancing over your shoulder and then down at your wrist, needing to talk yourself out of addressing him through the comm to let him know exactly what the plan is. You like maintaining a sense of secrecy from the new characters you’ve met on your adventures—Naydee, Karga, Peli—almost everyone you’ve been introduced to, you found a way to find a subtle enjoyment in hiding certain things from them. But with Din, you don’t have any walls. They crumbled nearly a full year ago when he silently pushed a cauterizer in your hand and took his armor off for you, and you’ve felt the inexplicable need to bare yourself to him in return ever since. It would be to your extreme detriment to do it now, but you still have to fight the urge.

Even if you don’t feel him following, you still find yourself acting like he is. Constantly turning back to double check the road behind you, drifting off in the middle of shallow, distant conversations with tiny foundlings who can’t tell the difference, keeping towards the middle of the pack this time to avoid being picked off towards the back. The belltower at the orphanage is loud and will ring for quite a distance, so your timing has to be utterly pristine for this to all work out. You eye your comm the entire way there, trying to stall just the right amount to avoid any realizations or fall into any traps he may be setting for you.

You eventually leave the city walls far behind you, and now you have no clue where he is. You lost him, and maybe that’s why you feel your heart beat insanely fast the whole time. He could be anywhere now. Behind you, adjacent, parallel—you can’t decide where to look, but it keeps you wide awake and focused while the group tiredly travels back to the temple.

***

Day 5–11:32pm:

You can see it in the distance, the brick buildings slowly coming into view. One might think your stress would have worked itself out by now, been brought back to a manageable level after four hours of walking, but you’ve been on red alert for the past hour or so. Any movement or rustle that doesn’t come from the sleepy children or exhausted caretakers, you’re on top of it, snapping your attention to the offending tree or animal and not being able to relax even after affirming it’s just nature, it’s not shiny metal bounding after you in the darkness, ready to take you down.

The infants are all likely snoozing away in the nursery, and the Sister who volunteered to stay behind and look after them comes to greet the group at the gate as you approach. Like always, two Brothers open the iron bars to allow you inside, and you feel the anxiety dig its claws into your tummy. If Din is going to get you, this is the very last moment to do it. These walls are guarded and you’re nervous for him, you’re nervous for yourself—you’re just fucking nervous. Jumpy and worried, not being able to pinpoint him anymore and feeling all the more anxious because of it.

It doesn’t feel right. Nothing feels right about this, but you can’t figure out specifically what’s wrong. This was the exact plan, this was a way for you to just survive these last few hours and yet, it doesn’t feel right that you actually succeeded in doing so. It doesn’t make sense that he’d allow you to return all the way here, especially when he was close enough to touch you earlier. Din has had so much time to snatch you up, so many opportunities to lure you away, confront you—anything to catch you, and he hasn’t done it yet. Why? Either you truly did escape and he has no idea where you are, which doesn’t feel right, or he’s choosing not to get you for whatever reason, which also doesn’t feel right. What’s he waiting for? You can’t have won. It was all too fucking easy, you’re expecting to see him around every single corner because he should be there, he shouldn’t have allowed this to happen.

When someone gently touches your elbow, you’re so on edge that you nearly whip around in surprise.

“Sorry!” Naydee immediately apologizes, taking her hand back to lift her hood and remove the mask covering her face. “Didn’t mean to scare you! I was just going to say that the commissary is still open,” she offers, and you watch the small group of hungry teenagers break off from the group to make their way there. “It’s going to take awhile to get the children ready for bed, so we’ll be in the dormitories if you need to sleep. Otherwise, I’m not sure I’ll see you again.”

You stare at her and blink a few times, trying to readjust your focus. She’s your new friend, she just said this was likely the last time you’ll see each other, but you can’t stop thinking about Din. Imagine he’s hours away in the city right now, still looking for you. You’re trying to evaluate your priorities here, but you truthfully never expected to get this far. Inside the gates, surrounded by brick buildings and silent guards. You know your way around here, you know hiding spots, you know how to outlast—it’s incredibly advantageous for you to be inside these walls. What is he doing?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you give Naydee a quick hug and she happily accepts it. “I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point.”

She smiles and nods, pulling back and letting a couple grumpy foundlings catch her robes and yank on them impatiently. The loud group eventually disappears into the dorms, and the door shutting behind them cuts off the tired crying and chatty voices determined to stay awake, leaving you in silence that feels slightly unfamiliar after going without it for so long.

Fuck, you just need to breathe. As soon as the dead quiet grips the air around you, you realize you need to relax. You’re way too fucking wound up; you want to bolt at the smallest thing and the sudden silence of being alone multiplies it to the point where you have to remind yourself of its importance. Breathe. Focus. There’s about fifteen minutes before the bells ring, fifteen more minutes and the chase will be all over.

Can you eat? You thought you’d want to, but you think you’re too fucking antsy. You can’t stay here alone, that’s for sure, but you also don’t want to be around all the children right now. The commissary will have a handful of people wandering around, teens snacking and maybe a Brother or two standing guard. It’s the best place to wait the clock out, so you make your way there. The gentle breeze billows around your loose robes, your pantlegs swishing as you walk.

A few minutes later, you’ve got a plate of food in front of you but your mask is still up, and you’re just sitting there. Towards the back of the large room, sitting by yourself at one of the tables and staring down at your communicator. Five minutes. You have five fucking minutes left before he finds you. Can you feel him? Is he closing in?

You sit up a bit straighter, taking a deep breath. Focus on that feeling from earlier. The presence in your chest, the weight that didn’t used to be there months ago—focus on that feeling and branch it outwards. Can you feel him?

Something catches your eye.

Or no… it doesn’t, does it? Nothing is out of place here, nothing is visibly wrong or amiss. The only thing that’s changed from all the times before is how dark it is through the windows, and how there are only a few kids in here grabbing a midnight snack instead of being packed like usual. Nothing else.

But there’s… there’s an acolyte in the far corner, standing guard with his back to the wall. It’s not his presence that gives you pause—you expected him to be here, there’s always been at least one present whenever you’ve sat down to eat. He doesn’t look any different from the rest of the Brothers you’ve passed by this evening or the days before—tall, silent, dark brown robes, hooded and mysterious—so why do you suddenly feel yourself break out into a cold sweat as soon as your eyes land on him?

Bubbling laughter and chatter echoes through the large room from one of the tables near the entrance—seven teenagers stuffing their faces with food and sharing animated conversation with each other now that it’s late and they’re alone—but your stomach twists and your fingers start to tremble as you slowly rise from your seat in the back. You want to keep your head down and be casual but it’s impossible, you desperately need to keep looking at that silent guard in particular and your heart kicks up in your chest—

—and then it wrenches sideways when you’re carefully backing away from the table and the offending acolyte takes a single step forwards.

Run. Everything in you screams for you to run, and it’s rarely done that before, but you can’t. Not yet, you don’t want to draw attention, and the logical part of your mind rages against your gut instinct to haul ass. He’s here—of course he is, the thought screams through your veins as you try to weave quickly in between tables, feeling light on your toes and readying yourself to run as soon as you can. The dark figure seems to find a careful pace behind you, staying just far enough behind and walking in perfect silence, and you have so many fucking questions but you can’t even think a single thing beyond run away, run away. Where’s the kid? How did he get those robes? Did he actually take his helmet off just to get to you in a room where anyone could confront him?

Your feet propel you forward as soon as you make it out of the door, you break out into a sprint—just flat out bolting because you know how fucking fast he is and you need as big a headstart as you can get.

You race down the stairs and through the courtyard, the beautiful surroundings contrasting drastically with the way you’re running for your fucking life through them. It’s not beautiful to you right now; you feel clumsy and physically unable to move fast enough no matter how quick you go, your eyes are wide and every nerve is on fire and you can’t even tell if he’s behind you anymore with how silently he moves, but you just trust that he is and keep barreling forward. Your breath puffs against the clinging fabric of your mask as you keep sprinting, willing your legs to pump faster. Get to the belltower at least, get to where you have the smallest chance of being caught by the people who guard this place.

As soon as you allow yourself to even conceive the possibility, two Brothers in dark hooded robes suddenly turn the corner a little ways in front of you and your reaction time is perfect—you jerk to a halt and take a single step forward as soon as they spot you. Since your momentum already committed you to it, you just have to walk, keep your head down, move directly past them and hope Din disappeared from behind you in time.

Step, step, step—keep going, control your breathing, you’re okay, you’re allowed to be up late tonight and they shouldn’t stop you. Walk right by… Stars, you feel their silent stares as you casually pass, and it just feels so cold and analytical compared to the kind of danger Din is gives off when dressed in the exact same clothing. He’s hard and tangible and an unrelenting force, where they just feel like ghosts that haunt this place. The threat they present is impersonal and detached, but the terror currently chasing after you is so real that he can read your mind.

You wipe the sweat from your brow as soon as you turn the corner, and your feet are already starting to speed up on their own knowing you’re out of their sight. Run, get to the belltower before Din does, you can see it standing tall about a hundred feet away. The stairs leading to the door come closer and closer, but you hear something behind you and it propels you faster. It’s like you can feel him right at your heels even though you haven’t seen him, snapping at your ankles even though your footsteps are the only ones you can hear anymore.

You scramble up the stairs and close the door behind you, spinning around and facing it even as you slowly retreat backwards into the moonlit tower, trying to stay quiet. Breathing through your nose, eyes shifting around the enclosed space, continuing to back up and away from the door. Where is he? There are so many windows that allow you to look outside, but why can’t you spot his movement through them? Wasn’t he right behind you?

Behind you.

There’s no reason or logic at all to it; you just react. Spinning around and throwing a mean punch.

Din jerks back just in time to miss it, twisting and dodging at the very last second to avoid your next few hits—but… things seem to slow down, even if they’re happening so fast. The moonlight cascades through the dozens of windows lining the circular walls and it shines just enough to reveal small glimpses of him. With every aggressive strike from you, you see something else—you see a flash of his chin when you try to uppercut, you aim for his chest and you see a bit of his jaw. When you go for his jaw, he steps sideways and catches your wrist, and you see the bend of his nose catch the light this time.

But then it’s like he finally figures out that you’re actually fighting him, and now he’s coming for you. Trained and ruthless, not weighed down by any armor and lightning quick, launching perfectly aimed attacks that you’re only able to avoid from reaction and muscle memory alone. You block or move whenever he strikes, you attack whenever you see an opening, you sidestep at the same time he does—

Until you land a spin kick directly to the center of his chest and snap your leg to shove him back, your heel smashing into that soft spot right above his stomach with dead precision and brute force. He exhales sharply and takes a few more steps back to steady himself while you pause to catch your breath.

Din abruptly comes back and you fall into it with him again, keeping a sharp rhythm with each other that’s faster, harder, and way more real than any sparring match you’ve ever shared. The hours and days in hyperspace you spent practicing with him are but a fraction of what he’s throwing at you right now, the combinations so rapid and blurred that you just have to trust your knowledge of him and his movement through the dark.

But then, your downfall. Bells begin ringing an earsplittingly familiar melody above you, and it shatters your concentration—you falter just as he grabs you and sweeps your feet out, and though you know how to get out of that, you’re not quick enough on the jump nor counterswing to prevent it. He takes you to the ground, hard, and then your wrists are being pinned together above your head and your mask is being tugged down.

Din’s mouth on yours makes you want to cry.

The whole thing is like coming home. You spent a week surrounded by strangers and having them call you by a name not given to you, fending for yourself, and now here he is. Someone who knows who you really are, someone that wants to care for you. Tears come to your eyes even as they're pressed tightly shut, and Din kisses you like he’s never known anything else. His mouth fits to yours as if the Maker made your lips before ever considering the rest of you, his bare hand clutching your jaw and forcing you to open for him, letting him lick deep inside after going so many days without it. It might feel dominant and overwhelming if it happened to any other person, but through it, you can also taste his desperation and weakness, how soft he is even when he’s squeezing your jaw and squishing your wrists together too tightly.

Rigid steel that bends only for your touch.

He pulls back and your heart throbs at how moonlight continues to bathe just the smallest glimpses of him under the hood—never the full thing, never the whole face, but enough. The quiet light that brushes the arch of his nose, how it bathes the hard line of his jaw so that you can barely see his scruff when he turns his head the right way. His eyes are hidden in near darkness but there’s the faintest glimmer where they should be, and it’s the closest you’ve ever been to looking at him without the helmet. You can see him, you can see shadows of his chin, his neck—dear stars, his fucking neck. You’re pinned and paralyzed under him and the ringing bells, yet you feel like you just might float if he wasn’t holding you so tight to the floor.

“Where’s the baby?” You finally lift your chin and ask, needing to raise your voice over the melody clanging loud throughout the tower.

“Making friends,” Din pants back down at you, and… stars, then you just start giggling. Adrenaline turning into pure joy, imagining the kid wreaking havoc with all the other babies in the nursery right now. It feels more light and airy than anything your body should know.

“What are you so happy about?” He asks, swallowing and then continuing on with the same quick gasps. “You lost, I caught you in time.”

“Did you?” You drop your head to the brick floor and ask, biting your lip as he stares back down at you. Suddenly—

—Bong—

Din holds utterly still over you while you take a quick breath and wait for the next eleven bells…

…but then break into a slow grin up at him when nothing but utter silence follows.

There’s a moment. Just a single moment where the cogs turn rapidly under that shadowy hood, one where the faint reflection of light in his eyes flickers down to the communicator on your wrist that says midnight and back to you, one that solidifies the longer it takes for another bell to ring. It’s not going to.

One o’clock.

You think he puts it together. The one moment he was never able to figure you out—when you tried reprogramming the comms just a few days ago. The one trick up your sleeve that you resigned to throw away and almost forget about because the circumstances for pulling it off were never realistic. Fuck with the electronics and set the clock back just one hour—all you’d need to do is reset his communicator, the timecode is synced together. He told you before that it’s connected to his helmet, but all the buttons still work. Rapid, panicky thinking and a wild surge of bravery in the face of certain downfall is the only reason you were able to pull it off, and you’re perfectly willing to admit you just got lucky… especially when he’s still holding dead still over you.

But then Din moves so suddenly. You can’t account for it because there’s no build-up whatsoever—it’s so fast, you yelp while he grabs your knees and throws them both to one side. You flop over sideways and large hands reach up under the draping length of your tunic to yank your pants down over the curve of your ass, before he’s fitting his palm up between your legs and pushing two thick fingers inside you.

Your head thunks back against brick with how unexpected and merciless it is, but his other hand is grabbing your jaw and twisting, forcing you to look up, stare right into the dark shadow under the loose cowl. The whole thing is too overwhelming—you’re trying to keep quiet but your breathing feels like thunder crashing inside this tall, echoing chamber. He’s touched you so many times, he knows exactly how to do it by now, but it feels like so much more than that. Probably because you can see the way Din’s mouth silently falls open as he feels you, stretching his fingers up and hooking them tight inside. You can tell when he closes his eyes, the smallest glint slowly disappearing into nothingness while the hand around your jaw blindly moves up. It catches your chin and lips, and then two fingers push over the bottom edge of your teeth to slip into your mouth.

Your entire leg twitches and jerks while you lay sideways on the ground and open up for him, your neck twisted at a sharp angle to keep your eyes on him and his fingers in your mouth, giving you something to bite to stop making noise. Din makes room for himself inside you two different ways, and you just choke on his fingers and try to stay quiet, praying he’ll go deeper.

But then you’re not expecting his whole fucking arm to start moving the way it does—oh fuck, what is that? First you just feel jostled and displaced, but then suddenly a wicked, deep, burning pleasure starts to roar through you, radiating outwards from the rapid motion of just two fingers inside you. It’s not in and out, it’s up and down so hard and quick against your g-spot that your eyes cross and your hands go numb.

You think you grab at him, clutch onto his arm or chest and open your mouth to moan at the new and overwhelming sensation, but his hand pushes up against your chin and closes it for you, the bend of his fingers caught hard between your teeth but you don’t think he cares.

“Quiet,” Din hisses the word down at you while his arm continues to work, your toes starting to curl as the feeling overwhelms you. Fuck, what is happening, what is happening? It’s like he’s just shoving unfamiliar sensation at you so forcefully that you can’t even think straight anymore, not even ten seconds in. You can only feel the pleasure, fire blurring hot and shapeless through your entire body as your eyes clamp shut, his fingers isolating that perfect spot and stimulating it directly, relentlessly.

Something dull and white hot presses up tight against all the muscles you have down there and you’re almost afraid of how strong it is. You gasp and choke and he has to take his fingers out of your mouth and just clamp down around your entire jaw, sealing the whole thing shut with his large hand. And then Din’s fingers leave your pussy too—and stars, you should be embarrassed by how desperately it clamps around nothing for as long as it does. He’s not even inside you anymore but your body is on such a delay from the hot, twisting pleasure, and he doesn’t put them back in until your muscles are finished spasming.

Everything comes back full force as soon as he starts moving again. Noise starts to come from your throat, humming in your vocal cords to deal with the arcing, swirling build, and so Din just moves his hand there instead. He finds where it’s vibrating from your neck and he pushes up against it, trapping the sound right at the source. He’s fucking perfect at it for some reason… how many times must he have done this to know how to cut noise out without stopping airflow? You clutch at his wrist and silently mouth his name, feeling his arm work between your legs—faster, faster, harder, pushing you higher, higher—

Din pulls his fingers out again and this time, one of your thighs suddenly feels warm and wet while you spasm and you hear him growl out a ragged, “Fuck yes.” Everything is sparks zapping through you long after his touch is gone, you cry out but it’s all trapped under Din’s expert grip. His fingers soon push back inside you and you dig your nails into his forearm, your sounds muffled and quiet enough to hear his raspy groan.

“Let me see it again,” Din breathes, his arm starting to work up and down once more, and you don’t even know what he’s talking about anymore. What does he want to see? You losing your mind again? Being reduced to an utter mess in front of his shadowy but unobstructed gaze just because you managed to pull one over on him?

Fucking… apparently. It’s what happens, after all. You’ve never seen him like this before; whenever he’s worked up and taking it out on you, there was always something in it for him, too. He’d hammer into you and rock your world until his eventually shattered, and then you’d both lay exhausted afterwards, equally affected and satisfied. This isn’t like that—this is just cruel, targeted retribution on his behalf, coaxing the molten pleasure out of you with his fingers and keeping his other hand locked around your throat. You blink helplessly up at him, your vision starting to blur by the time he leans down to whisper to you.

“I missed you, sweet girl. Did you miss me?” It’s so soft and quiet compared to the strength and relentlessness of his movements. You can’t speak even if you wanted to, but when he finally pulls away to yank his hand out and you feel all your muscles automatically flex outwards and push against the sudden emptiness inside you, his voice groans long and satisfied while your thighs get wet again “Yeah you did,” he breathes, pushing your shaky legs to the brick with his hand and watching you struggle through the aftershocks.

Did you just cum? You don’t even know, that’s how fucked up you are right now. The whole thing felt like an orgasm from the very beginning, just a boiling hot tornado ripping through every single cell in your body, never really having a peak. If you didn’t cum, then why do you feel so weak? You feel heavy, your limbs don’t work properly, and you barely even register Din pulling at the fabric of his own robes until he fits himself up against your entrance.

When you do realize it, though… your body burns with it, wrecked already but wanting him to take what he wants from you.

“Oh, plea—” you gasp but you don’t even have enough time to get the full sentence out. He’s already pushing his hips forward, pressing you tight into the ground and opening you up after what feels like a fucking eternity without him. It’s the hottest, slickest welcome you could give him, you hear it in the whispered curse his lips brush up under your ear, the wet noises your body makes that get louder the longer you hold the moan in your throat and bury your head into his shoulder. He throbs thick and perfect inside your tight, spasming cunt, stretching you and smacking the rough ground near your head with how fucking good it is to be back, finally, finally—

Your hands grab uselessly at his chest while you try to acclimate, try to breathe while you’re blind with sensation. It’s so fitting for him, isn’t it? That your reunion should be just as physically debilitating as it is mentally. Din’s voice scrapes on a groan like he’s dragging it across the brick ground as quiet as he can, catching when you clamp down on him and shuddering when you clamp down harder. That’s just it—you don’t ever loosen, you just keep tightening and tightening around him, threatening to break and cum again.

This feels different from before, though. It’s deep, purposefully so. His hand reaches up to push the fabric of your hood back, lifting himself up over your body and wanting to start as deep as he can. You feel him in a place you’d never be able to reach and that’s just the beginning—that’s before he starts thrusting into you, hitting a dull sensation at the apex of each movement so hard that it becomes sharp. His hips don’t make practically any sound smacking into you because they don’t really smack, they just rock downwards and fuck you into the floor without needing to pull out really at all. You know he’s just trying to keep it as quiet as possible, but what he lacks in speed and agility he makes up in power.

You don’t even realize you’re making too much noise until a palm wraps tight around your mouth and the room gets a little emptier. Din keeps you all to himself on the floor, silencing as much as he’s working you up, smothering as much as he’s freeing you. There’s no easing up, no dragging it out, no gradual build or climb—it’s just there all of a sudden, pleasure and pain pummeling you all at once, engulfing you in flames.

You reach up to grab at the loose fabric of the hood over his face, catching a fistful of it before his hand suddenly snatches your shaky wrist and pins it back to the ground.

Maker, you forgot—oh, you completely forgot about how many people could find you right now if they ever decided to look in the right place. You’re not in hyperspace; your body is rocking against rough brick, you’re probably going to have a lump on the back of your head from how terrible you are at trying to map out heaven while holding still. He’s pinned down what he can with one hand; your fingers are the only things that can move besides how tight you can curl your toes, but you feel your moans turn into words against his palm. They garble indistinctly and you’re not really even sure what you’re saying, but Din decides it’s worth hearing.

“Shh,” he whispers, slowly lifting his hand from your mouth. “Shh, tell me—”

“W-wanna look,” you hear yourself whimper, trying your best to keep quiet but wanting to scream it while he fucks you hard and slow on the ground, “—I wanna see, I wanna look at you—”

“Fuck,” Din gasps, and though his grip tightens on your wrist and you know he can’t do it right this second, the words seem like they shatter something inside him, “Keep—oh fuck, please, k-keep saying…”

“I want to marry you,” you nearly whine for him, feeling his hips kick up rapidly and start hammering in and out, in and out, in and—“I want to see your face, I wanna be yours, I don’t want anyone else to know you the way I-I—”

You think he drops his head into your neck to muffle his own sounds. Though they start out rough and quiet and indiscernible, but they gradually become louder as he repeats himself over and over again, growling and fucking you rough. You only catch it on the peak, when he pulls his mouth away from your skin and gasps them raggedly one last time.

“—ve you—I l-love y—”

He kisses you to stop himself. But it’s not really a kiss, it’s more desperate than that. Though it’s beautiful, it’s beautiful in a different light. It’s not rejoicing at having you back with him once again; it’s a last prayer begging you to stay by his side forever. He loves you. He gives it everything—it feels even more concrete and simple than taking the hood off him and revealing his face would. You told you that you'd know him without ever seeing him, and you did. You picked him out and found him when absolutely nothing was giving him away, and this feels like a manifestation of that. Even if you’re not in a place where he can show you his face, his beautiful brown eyes, something still feels like it changes. He loves you. You gasp into his mouth and his tongue sinks deep into yours, tenacious and brave and unyielding.

When you finally cum, you almost bite him on accident.

Everything surges hot and molten while he pulls back and keeps fucking you through it, and you can’t tell where you’re touching him anymore, just that his skin is blazing hot under your hand and he feels like everything the armor isn’t. He loves you. You’re looking into his eyes right now. You can’t see any of the details, not really, but the moonlight flickers like silent stars moving through dark depths, staring right back at you and giving you an anchor for the euphoria rocketing through you. He loves you. Your nails dig in sharp and slowly drag downwards, scratching hard red lines into whatever thick muscle that is—

The back of his neck, making his hips stutter and when he cums for you, he does bite.

You lift your head just in time to feel his teeth catch your chin instead of your mouth, and his entire body shakes while you keep dragging your nails down the side of his neck and his throat. Din fucking lives for it, he releases you and arches into the pain and owns your marks like he wishes you made them deeper, stretching his neck and lifting his chin into the moonlight and—

Maker. You can see it, with direct light, you can see more of it than ever before. You can see his soft lips and white teeth gritting the sound of your name as quietly as he can, the dark facial hair dusting across the lower half of his face. A fucking gorgeous jawline and throat extended long over you, flexing hard with his cock pulsing inside you. You can just barely see the bottom of his nose from under the brown hood, the dark curls brushing up under his ears.

Stars, you still never see his eyes, the fabric of his hood acts like a blindfold draped over them, but you think you cum again. Even if it’s on accident, it’s mean—Din tries to keep from squishing you and his hand pushes down hard against your lower tummy while he shoves his hips deep one last time, and you cum while staring at half of his face in the moonlight. Completely lovestruck.

How can he be this beautiful when you’ve only seen fractions of him? You have everything but the eyes now, everything but the most mysterious thing about him, the reflection into his deepest self, but you feel like you’re hypnotized by every single feature you do see. His tongue coming out to wet his lips, the vein pulling under his sharp jaw—he’s gorgeous, he’s gorgeous, and your body agrees. It shakes and shudders under him and eventually, Din finishes and you keep looking as his chin slowly lowers, face disappearing into the shadow once more.

Stars. He’s so handsome and no one has ever told him, fucking dreamy and the biggest grump you’ve ever met. Without being able to see him, you already want to reach your hands out and touch him, drag your nails through his scruff and force him to extend outwards into the moonlight again for you. Whenever he does end up showing you his face, you know right fucking now that you’ll never be able to look away. For the rest of your life, you’ll be staring at him, apologizing blankly for your rudeness but not feeling sorry at all.

Din leans down and gives you a slow, gentle kiss, finally relaxing into a slouch and breathing hard with the effort it took to shatter you with pleasure.

“The kid is with the other foundlings,” he whispers against your lips. “You… you’ll have to go get him, I need to grab my armor.”

You squeeze around his cock, pulling at the fabric of his robes and ignoring him for just a second. He fucked you in robes belonging to one of the guards and nobody has mentioned it, you need to say something. “Where did you get this?”

“I found it,” he tells you after a moment, kissing up under your jaw. Oh fucking Maker, he feels so good and perfect inside you, shoulders so broad and crowding you on the floor, and his lips are plush and hot, brushing and fitting your skin like it’s just an extension of his own. “Some guy was wearing it.”

It takes you a second.

“Mando,” you suddenly gasp in quiet horror, pushing at his chest and trying your best to detach his mouth from your throat. It’s so much more difficult than it needs to be, but you eventually succeed. “What did you do to him? Where is he?”

He lifts his neck up just the tiniest bit, turning his face towards yours under the hood and holding still for way too fucking long. He’s too close to see the expression he’s making, but you know the tone of his silence. He’s in trouble and he knows it before you do.

“Ma—”

“They’re in a closet,” he admits at the very same time, completely monotone.

You don’t know which word to emphasize. A fucking closet? They’re? Plural? Instead of stressing any particular word, you decide not to do it at all and it ends up just coming out in the same exact blank tone as him. “They're in a closet.”

“Inside the Temple,” Din continues on when you lay still as a statue underneath him. His head slowly dips down once more, pushing his hips against you just the slightest bit to make you remember the cock still inside you instead. Your eyelashes flutter with it—fuck, focus—“I didn’t know there’d be more than two.” He kisses your neck so gently. “It was an accident.”

You don’t say anything at all, your mouth pinching down at the corners because it should but your heartbeat galloping with how… fucking sexy he is. You shouldn’t encourage this, this horrible behavior just to get close enough to catch you, but your curiosity overtakes you and you ask a question you’ve asked yourself before. “Did they put up a fight?”

“Mm,” he whispers noncommittally, rocking his hips down once more. “You did.” Your nails dig into his chest, making him falter just slightly before slowly kissing your neck again. “Did so good. Fought hard, outsmarted me. Pretty fucking girl.”

And then your eyes pop open as you feel it. His cock suddenly beginning to harden once again inside you, twitching and gradually gaining a thicker shape, and for a moment, you actually fucking consider it. He’s the only one in this galaxy that could not only ruin you on these sacred grounds, but then coax you into doing it more than once—stars, are you actually considering it?

“We can’t,” you automatically tell him, but it’s fucking pitiful. Zero effort, absolutely no umph behind it, leaving it entirely up to him and how much he wants it. Your logic reminds you that the kid is probably wreaking havoc in the nursery and there are tied up guards in the fucking temple that could be discovered any second. You shouldn’t have even let him fuck you here in the first place, but… “Mando, we can’t—”

His mouth opens against the crook of your neck and his tongue brushes velvet hot on your skin, tasting the glistening sweat there and not moving his broad figure a single inch over you besides getting closer, deeper. Your nails dig into his collarbone, aiming for reason one last time. It’s apparent that you’d be better off rephrasing, knowing the challenging streak in him and how much telling him what to do doesn't help.

“It’s not a good idea,” you attempt instead, breathless and trying not to move under his mouth and lazy hips. “Not smart. Bad idea to fuck again.”

Din’s body stops moving, even though he keeps getting harder. His jaw opens and then his teeth scrape softly against your flesh, making you tilt your neck back and gasp.

“Later,” he lifts his head to state aloud, committing it to truth now that it’s been spoken and heard by another person. “Later, I’ll fuck you on the ship, in our bed, when I can get you naked and have your taste in my mouth.”

Tingles rock through your body and you squeeze around his cock just as he pulls it out and tucks it back into his pants. Your lungs quiver when you inhale—it’s shaky, but it reminds you of how long it’s been since you’ve been able to breathe correctly.

“Later,” you finally agree, combing your fingers through your hair and glad you have this hood to cover your freshly fucked dishevelment. He came inside you and you don’t want to be leaking and getting your nice pretty robes all wet and stained, but then of course, without any prompting, Din quickly scoots back on his knees and drops his head down to take care of it for you.

***

Commotion.

After Din helped you clean up the way he sometimes likes and then disappeared to change back into his armor, you put your mask and hood back on and tried to look as casual as possible walking to the nursery. Your knees wobbled slightly and you couldn’t stop smiling under the mask the entire walk there, but when you arrived, you just saw a dim room with sleeping infants—not what you were expecting. Soon, however, you hear it: down the hall, distant and coming from the dormitories, you hear a loud commotion.

Fuck, you’re nearly wincing with every step you take now, and not because you’re sore. Well, you… are, a little bit, but in a great way. No, you’re just dreading the ridiculous shinanigans you already know are well underway, wondering if Din actually dropped the kid off in the dorms from the beginning or if he somehow migrated his way there to cause trouble.

When you walk inside, the first thing you see is a handful of crying and shouting toddlers, and while you can’t immediately spot your favorite floppy-eared monster, you don’t have to see him to know he’s probably standing tiny directly in the middle of this tense showdown. Automatically, you’re taking a few steps forward to rescue him, but then you stop as soon as you see what the other babies are so mad about. A large piece of chocolate leftover from the festival levitating just beyond their pitiful little reaches.

Hm. Who could possibly be responsible for using demon powers to steal snacks and hold them hostage from a sizeable group of hostile children. A mystery that may never be solved.

It makes you take a second. The sheer… the… stars, you can’t even think straight—how fucking typical it is just hits you right in the chest, sends your heart into orbit. Of course. Of course this is what he’s gotten himself into without immediate supervision, of course this is the shipwreck you’d walk into, and you’re holding back a chuckle before making a single move to intervene. In the midst of everything, you can hear adults approaching distantly from behind you.

“—don’t know where it came from, I was helping the younglings into bed when I heard the ruckus and I—”

The voices gradually grow louder, and you snatch the floating piece of candy out of thin air and whip around right before Sister Drya and Naydee walk in. Their hushed, concerned conversation is cut to an abrupt end, and you clear your throat as they take you in, standing in front of chaos central continuing to go off behind you. Do you… look as freshly disheveled as you are? You’re not supposed to be here, you know, but hopefully the only strange thing is your presence itself and not anything concerning your appearance.

“Nerida,” the older lady suddenly announces, the name alone holding so much expectation, and the younglings missing their candy have now turned their ire towards you and the crinkly food wrapper hidden in your fist. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Ah, yeah,” you stand up a little straighter, letting the chocolate casually fall out of your grip behind you, and a stampede of feet suddenly kick up to recover it. It’s fine, nobody will know, it’s fine. “It’s just…” Your head tips behind you to the cause of the uproar, feeling a bit sheepish yet so incredibly fond. “My… kid.”

Sister Drya stares at you for a few seconds, before tipping sideways and staring at the culprit. “That is your child?”

You turn around just in time to see him, now abandoned by the angry mob of children, finally notice you. All of a sudden, his pitch black eyes light up something bright and sunshiney, and you just start beaming in return. What an adorable little creature, apple of your eye and pain of your ass.

“Yep,” you sigh, dropping into a squat and watching him barrel towards you, catching him right before he can trip over his brown potato sack and scooping him up into your arms. “Hiya, bug,” you murmur with a grin, lifting back up and plopping him in his favorite spot in the universe—your left hip. “You making friends?”

He giggles and it’s like sparkles and bubbles fill the room instead, wrapping tiny arms around the largest surface area he can get and clinging. He laughs with a tiny open mouth, bless him, clearly not understanding the sarcasm, and suddenly your eyes feel just the slightest bit wet. No, you’re not crying, don’t be fucking ridiculous, but you missed him like hell and he’s just the cutest fucking thing—why do you feel like crying?

“Sorry about that,” you apologize to the two women while slowly turning around, brushing your thumb over one of his cheeks and smiling as it squishes. “He’s… uh. Not great at sharing. We’ll work on it.”

Takes after his dad, you purposefully leave out, just a different kind of sharing. Din hasn’t shown you his full face yet and the kid performs magic tricks to taunt a roomful of children a fraction of his age for a single piece of chocolate, completely different kind of sharing.

Sister Drya says something in response, but when you look up to address her, all you see is Din standing silently behind her and Naydee, slowly dropping his hand from his helmet to his side. They don’t seem to notice he’s there and you automatically try your best to pay attention to the Sister speaking to you, but your eyes get caught on the silver reflecting in the dim light beyond. Fuck, he’s a presence. An immediate distraction, taking all your focus with a single glimpse. Seeing him fully armored again, staring at you from the silent shadows behind everything… you melt a little bit, knowing that you’ve seen more of what’s underneath than anyone. Your shoulders settle and your entire body burns warm, wobbly like the air around a fire, and one of the kid’s hands leaves you to reach out towards his dad.

You watch the metallic helmet tilt sideways after a moment, saying everything without saying anything. Come on, make up an excuse, let’s get out of here.

Looking at him in the quiet shadows, you’re reminded once again about how much you love him, how much softness you have inside you for a man so hard, so guarded. And, for the first time, a voice in your head finishes a poem you didn’t realize you were writing, adding its own verse and bringing everything back around to the beginning. He loves you, too. How much he lets his guard down for you, the way he’s revealed more of his face to you than not. You love each other. You’re family.

So, all at once, you decide to mess with him, because that’s what family does best.

“Don’t be shy, come say hello,” you suddenly urge his silent figure, taking a step forward and speaking directly to him. “Sister Drya, Naydee, I’d like to introduce you to my—”

It’s remarkable, you see it happen in front of you. Like he has powers of his own, Din just literally fucking disappears. Like magic, he’s nowhere to be found within a blink of an eye. You know he’s capable of it; he’s done it plenty of times during the chase just to fuck with your head, but you’re staring straight at him when it happens this time and it might just be the funniest fucking thing you’ve ever seen him do.

Sister Drya and Naydee both turn around to an empty hallway bathed in shadows and you laugh. A deep, shameless, loud belly laugh. Where the fuck did he go so quick? You were staring straight at him and you have no fucking clue. He’s just out, and you’re left alone with his child and the unspoken understanding that he’ll just catch up with you later.

You’re giggling even as you shake your head and give the women your genuine thanks for keeping you and feeding you these past few days, grabbing your backpack with all your belongings and eventually using three green fingers to wave goodbye to them. The very first thing Din says when he seamlessly joins you outside the Keja later is, “That wasn’t funny,” which just makes you laugh harder.

***

About a half hour has passed, and you’re walking along a dirt road, cradling a very happy baby in your arms and giving the grown man next to you an incredibly hard time.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, your back twinging slightly at the way you’re leaning about as sideways as you can get without falling over. You think you’re basically just the hypotenuse between the ground and Din, who easily supports almost your entire weight with your backpack slung around his far shoulder and readily allows you to rest against him.

“They’re fine,” he grumbles in response, squeezing you tight to his side. You just have to focus on moving your feet; it’s like he’s practically carrying your upper-half anyways. “I gave them the night off.”

“You stuffed them in a closet,” you hiss, feeling his shoulder shrug under your cheek.

“I gave them the robe back,” he says, not really defending himself and more just throwing it out there to see if it helps any. “I’m sure someone’s found them by now, they’re fine.”

Your eyes suddenly go wide, absolutely mortified at the thought. “Wait. What do you mean you gave the robe back?”

He shrugs once more, apparently not seeing the problem yet. “I borrowed it, so I gave it back after I put my armor back on.”

If you could plant your feet on the dirt road and screech to a halt, you would, but all your weight is already resting on him and you’re working solely off his forward movement. You just hope your tone holds the same amount of shocked disapproval your body language would’ve conveyed if you weren’t so completely attached to his hip like a parasite he adores.

“You fucked me wearing it, though.” Your voice is strangely flat, so fucking confused and horrified by the mental image of him just tossing the soiled garments haphazardly somewhere in the temple behind you, or even worse, leaving them somewhere respectful, and Din soon stops in the middle of the deserted road.

“Oh,” is all he says, emotionless and blank through the modulator. Did he not even consider this?

“I had to promise them I was a virgin just to sleep there, you know,” you admit, and you can tell that’s brand new information to him with how still he goes as you continue to lean against him. You’re getting the feeling that he probably knows a lot more about your experiences on this moon than you think he does, but can tell that this is brand new information to him. “And you locked three of their holy men in a closet, chased me across the temple grounds, fucked me in one of their robes, and then. You gave it. Back.”

Din stays perfectly silent for quite some time. You can never go back to that place, you know this for a fact. You’re banned forever now, it’s what you deserve.

Never one to be outdone but not actually having anything to say for himself, Din suddenly decides to just scoop you into his arms and boost up into the sky without a single word like an actual fucking maniac.

You squeal and damn near drop the baby because of it, but he cinches you tight to his chest and refuses to loosen with your struggle. Eventually, after you realize he’s completely locked you in and you won’t fall to your death with this poor innocent child in your arms, you glance over the shiny pauldron on his shoulder and watch the kid’s crib disappear by the abandoned road as Din takes you higher and higher.

The crib—he forgot the crib—

“D-Din,” you stammer out through the whistling air, stiff as a board. Stars, you have such a different sense of adventure than him; an explorer and a daredevil, one who gets a thrill from discovering the existence of the edge of a cliff and one who’ll take a running dive off of it without thinking twice. He’s hit with blaster fire some days, he faces down death completely fearless like it owes him one every single time, and you’re stiff as a fucking board while he carries you through the sky. It’s stunning up here, it’s exciting and wonderful, but you’re so scared that you can barely even look. He’s giving you the most fantastical view, everything your budding adventurous streak could ever ask for, and your terror is crushing. It would be different if you could hold on, but you’re responsible for not letting the baby slip through your arms and you just have to trust that he won’t let you slip through his.

You raise your voice. “Din?!”

“I won’t drop you,” he automatically reassures, and well you sure as fuck hope not, but there’s something else.

“What about the crib?” You call out over the wind whipping, tucking the baby tight to your chest and settling your hands over his ears to avoid them flapping and whacking you repeatedly in the chin.

“We’ll come back for it,” he responds, just as easily. Maker, you wish decision-making came that easy to you, that commitment and choice should be so simple as to just fly away from things on the ground and promise out loud to come back for them. You know he will, but still, his spontaneity shocks you after spending the past week thinking every decision through meticulously, and you’re taken aback by the casualness of it all while soaring through the sky, committing such spectacular feats without a single thought beyond it.

Soon—incredibly soon, which honestly kind of blows your mind—you spot Nariss glowing in the distance and then you’re flying overtop of the city, slowly dropping altitude in the middle of a quiet little side street.

Din carefully allows your feet to settle on the ground before letting go, but you still stumble a bit stupidly after flying so high without any sort of safety measure besides him, prioritizing the steadiness of the baby in your arms instead of your feet underneath you. His gloves catch at your clumsy body and pull you along with him without another word, leading you out of the quiet alley and into the middle of a beautiful, luminescent street.

What’s he doing? He seems slightly hurried, and you’re clueless but you go with it, clamoring along behind him to wherever he’s leading you.

Though, you suddenly remember one of the very last things you told him last night right before he steps up in front of a vendor.

“Caf,” Din grunts, sliding a few credits towards the man standing behind the counter. “The… biggest one you have.”

Okay, well. You could just about fucking cry.

“Y’sure?” The vendor asks skeptically, jerking his head at the large thermos behind him. He’s balding, wearing a white outfit with his eyes scrunched up and forehead sweaty, likely working all day. “It ain’t fresh. Closin’ up soon, was just about to trash it and go home.”

The helmet turns to gauge your response to the news, the sharp angles and contours looking so sleek and dangerous as they reflect the colorful lamplights, but just filling you with comfort beyond anything in the entire galaxy. He’ll take that armor off for you tonight and you’ll sleep next to him. He’ll call you by your given name, or the fond name he’s given you, and you’ll cuddle your baby on a metal floor in hyperspace with him, and all will be well. Even if he needs to leave again soon—even if you don’t get to go with him, you’ll always have these small eternities with each other, and that’s more enough for you now.

You’re completely zoned out while staring at him, and Din turns back to the vendor before you can even remember the conflict he was attempting to defer to you.

“Yeah, just empty the whole thing in there for her,” he mutters, and you want to marry him. It’s been a long week, and in your haze and delight of being with him in this gorgeous setting, your brain turns to cavewoman mush. Big man, makes me happy. Strong man, loves me, knows me. Provider, makes me feel good, protector, loves me.

Din hands you the large cup of steaming caffeine, clueless to your grunted inner monologue but knowing better than to reach out and grab the kid from your other arm. You’re just fine like this, hands full, the little frog snuggled up against your side and blinking up at your face instead of any of the shiny or glowing things around you. When you look down at him, you can see the world through his eyes—quite literally, they’re reflective and gigantic—and his father’s hand quickly finds its preferred spot on your lower back.

“Try to drink it quick,” Din advises you gruffly, pulling you snug into his side and sloshing the big cupful of piping hot liquid in your hand.

“It’s a thousand degrees,” you protest, trying to balance your three favorite things in the universe all begging for your direct attention at once. “It has to cool down.”

He gives a dismissive hm in response, and you frown even as your heart soars with how tightly he’s gripping you, how little leeway you have to even move without him. Part of you is so thrilled at being reunited with him that you consider snarking something back at him, excitement making you brave. He could probably chug boiling hot liquid in thirty seconds and doesn’t see the point in letting it sit any longer, and you could make some stupid joke about filtering it through his helmet or having a built in bendy straw but you decide to keep it to yourself.

So then you just stand there together, under stringed lights and flowers everywhere, and he waits. Holding you glued to his side, completely silent and clearly just waiting for your caf to stop steaming so threateningly in your hand so you can drink it. For some reason, the fact that he’s wanted by the New Republic doesn’t really register at this second—you’re not looking for cops, though he may be. You’re just lost in this beautiful, fancy city that’s on the edge of finally quieting down after a long day, and you’d like to see more of it with him next to you.

“Well, do you wanna just…” You ask, tilting your head around at all the vendors. “Shop around for a bit?”

“Shop… around,” Din repeats slowly, sounding the words out like they’re not common Basic. Admittedly, they do sit a bit awkward in his voice when put together like that, describing a phenomena he’s likely never even considered a thing before, but it’s so fucking pretty here and you’d like to show him something this time instead of the other way around.

“Yeah, like,” you shrug a shoulder, tipping your head in a random direction. Anywhere, you’ll go literally anywhere with him, the three of you can go explore. “Just wander around, and look at all the pretty things.”

From where you’re standing right now, you can already see glittering crystals and jewels being sold at the tent across the street, there’s a booth dedicated entirely to floral arrangements and crowns next to it, you can hear a distant quartet playing melodically in the distance and a couple is being painted by an artist on the corner. Bars are in full swing at this point, as if they weren’t all day, and even though the merchandise is all different, the multicolored tents look slightly similar when they’re underlit with multicolored lights. It’s less slightly lively than it was in the daytime, but also… more beautiful, in a sense. Muted, softer, more romantic.

“I don’t have any more credits,” Din admits casually, finally turning to look around at everything. You get the feeling that he’s just now seeing it, even after spending the entire day here. “That stale caf was the last of it.”

Money well fucking spent, you can assure him of that.

“It’s okay,” you tell him automatically, gently bumping your hip into his. “We don’t need credits, we can just look.”

So that’s what you do. Even though it’s completely not his fucking style, for the next hour or so, you just walk around downtown with him and sip your caf, looking at anything and everything new and experiencing it with him. At first, you think he’s just entertaining you, following you while you discover new streets and attractions, but then he points out different things and you know he's looking, too. There are large animals harnessed up and pulling carts for people to ride, there's an enormous spinning wheel set up in the distance, its colorful lights flickering out as soon as you ask what the fuck that is and why anyone would ever get inside one.

You eventually end up finishing your caf around the time he’s leading you back through a quiet, abandoned alleyway, and you hand him the empty cup to throw away in one of the trash cans on the corner. The conversation has faded to a comfortable quiet and you don’t really need to ask—you go willingly, not requiring anything beyond his hands on you and the baby dozing in your arms.

“Come on, sweet girl,” he murmurs, gently sweeping you up into his. You sigh, glad he’s giving you a moment to prepare yourself this time, holding the sleeping kid securely to your chest and resting your head on his shoulder. “Let’s go home.”

After you’re comfortable, Din rockets up from the ground and climbs high up into the canvas sky. He disappears with you and the baby into the pastel clouds above, making it back to the Razor Crest in probably about an hour, maybe less. You and the baby do nothing more than climb into the comfy floor blankets while Din starts up the engines, and you think you’re dozing off together by the time he makes the pit stop to collect the crib and the jump into hyperspace.

You think he might shower? You’re not sure—you just know he moves up behind you in bed at one point without any armor, burying his face in your hair while you cuddle the sleepy kid to your chest. It’s dark in the hull, Din’s palms are bare and warm as they slide around the front of your body and he breathes you in, and there isn’t a single place that can touch you here, not a single place you’d rather be.

Home.

***

@followwhereshegoes Thank you for the stunning artwork! 💕To anyone interested in possibly doing an art collab in the future, please message me!!

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #smut #reader insert #fanfic #star wars #rough day #no-droids

8K notes · View notes

jvnluvr · 3 years ago

Text

my genshin relationship headcannons!

featuring: xiao, diluc, kaeya, & zhongli! (reader doesn’t have a specified gender, you can decide that for yourself :)

spoilers are mentioned during zhongli headcannons!! please do not read if you have not completed the archon quests for liyue.

author’s note: i really wrote this more for myself but i decided to post it anyway to share it with all of you. reminder: these are just my headcannons. you might think differently of them and that’s your opinion. anyways, please enjoy this piece of fluff! if you want me to write headcannons for any other male character, please ask and i’ll try my best. i’m going to make this a series :)

• xiao doesn’t understand the concept of love. but he does find it terrifying. how could two humans share that bond? when he realizes that he feels more than just nothing when he’s with you, he freaks out. he’s not himself, and you start to take notice of that.

• when these feelings for you start to emerge, he’s washed over with an overwhelming feeling of protectiveness. over you. he feels the need to protect you, even when his brain knows your completely fine. you know how to fight after all.

• he can’t help it, however. xiao will always ask you to leave the fighting to him, because there’s this one little voice stuck at the back in his mind that tells him that something bad will happen to you. when he realizes you mean more to him, he just can’t afford to lose you. not when he’s lost everyone else.

• “let me protect you, please?” he feels a bit embarrassed asking this, but he’s very serious about it. he’s always there when you are fighting. he wants to help you. and he usually never wants anything to do with humans. because he’s afraid to hurt them. but he’s more afraid to hurt you. you’re so precious to him, more than anything he has ever encountered as an adepti.

• when he confesses, it’s not even a confession. xiao doesn’t know how to love. cut him some slack. he would probably say something like; “let’s be together.” i don’t know. you don’t know how to comprehend what he just said. you guys are already together? like literally. but when you ask the meaning behind his works, he gets all flustered. “how do you not understand? love, that word. that’s what i feel for you.... stupid.”

• after he confesses, and you guys are together, be ready to take it slow. xiao is new to all of this, and most of the time won’t understand the gestures of affection you provide to him. but later into the relationship, he realizes his love language is indeed physical touch, both receiving and giving. he secretly loves it when you cup his face with both of your hands. it makes him feel relaxed. for giving, he likes holding your hands or giving you head pats.

• there’s a certain fondness that forms when he holds hands with you. it’s warm, a feeling that xiao isn’t used to, because all he has felt is the cold. if you don’t touch him for a while, he gets upset, but more so confused. why did you stop? did you not like it, or are you scared to touch him. surprisingly, he would approach you about it. “why are you being distant? did i do something to upset you?” he cares about your feelings, so he asks with caution. when you hear this, your face betrays you as you start to smile widely. now xiao would be both flustered and confused. “hey! why are you smiling that? dumbass, you find this funny, don’t you?” you can’t help but laugh after that. poor boy needs his daily affection and physical touch, don’t forget to give it to him.

• when xiao calls you, he would always call you by his name. he didn’t understand nicknames of affection in a relationship, so one day when you call him with such, he’s confused. “are you calling me? why did you call me like that?” you get flustered and try to brush it off, but he grabs you and you can see the blush dusting his face. “i like that, can you do it more often?” he’s quiet about it, but you never the less agree. he also picks up on it and often calls you by saying ‘love’ or ‘sweetheart.’ of course, these names are reserved for when the two of you are in private.

• dates with xiao would be a rare occurrence. as much as he loves to spend time with you, he has his own duties and he can’t abandon them. this is one thing you have to understand if you were to be in a relationship with xiao. he can’t have you clinging onto him all the time when he has things he needs to fulfil. when you guys do get to spend some time together, it would be exploring out in the wild. i think xiao finds this very comforting. it’s nice to see the world when it’s not in chaos. you both would walk hand in hand, probably picking some qingxins and mist flowers. and i could definitely see you both just watching the sunset from the balcony at wangshu inn.

• xiao needs to sleep with you every night. he has nightmares quite often, and your presence subdues those nightmares. if you don’t sleep with him for one night or more, his nightmares get worse, sometimes involving you in them. this causes him to become more overprotective. there would be a night where it got so bad that he started crying. it was just a couple of tears, but the sight genuinely broke your heart into pieces. he didn’t know himself as to why he was crying. he should be used to this, and more importantly, he let himself become vulnerable in front of you, xiao had this perception that he wouldn’t allow you to see him like this, but after he said that to you, it’s safe to say that you both had a long talk that night. after this incident, he allows himself to express his feelings more to you.

• overall, your relationship with xiao really changes him. and i mean in a good way. he’s learned to become more expressive with his feelings and he’s found love. even way later into your relationship, it still baffles him how he found someone like you. on your end, you’ve learned to be more calm and understanding. it would be amazing to be able to experience a relationship like this with xiao. he’s more than happy to stay with you for the rest of your life.

• a relationship with diluc would seem impossible at first. he’s always so busy with work, and he seems to ignore basically everyone. diluc thinks that social interaction is a waste of time. people don’t understand him, and it would be a waste to try and explain why he is the way he is. not that he really needs to though. the only way i could see a relationship happening between you two is if he sees you fighting or if he saves you during a battle.

• if he sees you fighting, he takes notice of your skills. he’s fascinated to say the least. once you finish off, you see him gazing at you from afar. you get nervous, because diluc is staring at you with such an intimidating stare. in that moment, you don’t realize that it’s his usual face. so you start to walk towards him. he sees and he also gets nervous so he just stands there awkwardly. (he thinks he looks awkward, but really, he’s just crossing his arms.) when you get close to him, he suddenly mutters out, “um, your fighting skills are good.” you just stop dead in your tracks and start blushing because you didn’t expect him to compliment you. so you just a utter a small thanks and dash away from him. he thinks that he scared you off, so he gets angry with himself.

• if he saves you during a battle, i can see it being very romantic. it’s a big battle, and the enemies just keep coming, your body is starting to give up on you, and you have dozens of scratches on you. since your so tired, you lose track of your surroundings and get a deep gash somewhere on your body and you fall limp. diluc is just ‘passing by’ and he senses the hillchurls and mages so he runs in your direction. when diluc sees you all helpless, struggling to fight off the mages, he’s filled with a strong fighting urge. he takes out his claymore and finishes off the rest of the enemies for you. you find yourself leaning against a tree in order to get a grip, but diluc just carries you all the way back to monstadt. like casually. you pass out midway through the trip and you wake up feeling all warm and in a nicely lit room. but as you try to get up, you’re pushed back down by someone. you look to your side to see diluc sitting in a chair. mans been taking care of you the whole time you were unconscious.

• when he realizes he has developed feelings for you, he tries to push them away. he tries to convince himself that he doesn’t want it, that it will be a waste of time. really, he’s just trying to list out all the bad things. but as it keeps piling up, soon it’s starts to spills. and all of his feelings and emotions spill fast. he tells you quite early on that he likes you, but you happily accept and reciprocate his love. from then on, diluc completely changed his demeanor around you.

• nicknames with diluc would be also be reserved for when you two are behind closed doors. he wouldn’t want someone like kaeya hearing him say such things. he’s not embarrassed about your relationship, but he hates how kaeya or anyone else will keep nagging at him for it. but he calls you so gently with the sweetest names. i personally think he would use ‘darling’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘my love’, or ‘my little dove.’ i think diluc would appreciate small compliments like calling him handsome or something of that sort. he gets very flustered when you call him by an endearing nickname. not to say he hates it though.

• diluc loves kissing you. of course, he wouldn’t allow himself to do so in public, but when the two of you are alone, he gives your forehead kisses and kisses on the cheek because he can’t help but find you so adorable. he gives short kisses to your fingers because he finds them so soft. compared to his rough hands from handling a claymore, he loves the feeling of your hands. vice versa, you love how warm diluc’s hands are. this is expected, handling a pyro vision, diluc always keeps you warm, especially when the two of you explore dragonspine together. he secretly adores it when you come to him when you feel cold, and he’s more than happy to warm you up.

• diluc is an amazing chef, and no, i do not take criticism on this. i believe that diluc would have picked up his culinary skills from his father when he was younger. and even now, working in the wine industry, he had decided to keep learning. so diluc would always cook you meals, whether it be after a long night of expeditions or early in the morning. it’s quite the sight to see, when you go downstairs into the kitchen to see him making lots of delicious dishes.

• since diluc is so busy, dates would most likely never happen. even if he is free, he doesn’t see the point in going out. so instead, dates would be at home. it would include snuggling together on the couch watching movies, or making things together, and this could be anything you want it to be. on very rare occasions, and i mean very rare, diluc tells you to get dressed up because he’s taking you out for dinner. in all honesty, he probably feels a little bad that he doesn’t take you anywhere, so he tries to compromise.

• diluc loves it when you lay your head in his lap and vice versa. he enjoys combing through your hair with his fingers, no matter the length. he also like doing your hair, whether it be braiding it or adding any accessory into it, including flowers!! you guys would definitely make flower crowns for each other. he diluc likes it when you play with his hair because it makes him feel warm and comforted. he sometimes just takes your hand and puts it against his hair because he wants you to run your fingers through it. you can’t help but slightly giggle when he does so.

• diluc can be very overprotective and controlling. he doesn’t want to cage you or restrict your freedom, truly. but he is quite terrified of what could happen to you out there. he has already suffered the consequences of this cruel world, right in front of his own eyes. he doesn’t want to lose someone who means so much to him, not again. this would be the main reason you two argue, but you both understand each other’s point of view so you make a compromise.

• all in all, diluc is so in love with you and it’s an amazing experience. you both take comfort in each other’s presence and it really shows diluc that it’s okay to not be so vigilant and distant. he melts around you, so please, just give him the love he has long been yearning, and you will find yourself in many interesting and surprising situations.

• beginning a relationship with kaeya would be so unexpected. he’s not looking for love, he’s merely there just to live his life. i believe that kaeya thinks that love is not meant for him. kaeya is the type to self sabotage his own relationship, intentionally. he doesn’t mean to hurt the other person, but he doesn’t want them to love him, so he makes them hate him. he’s fine with it, simply because he’s not up for that. when you come into the picture, he goes through a rollercoaster of emotions, and he does try to fight it off. but of course, everything does come crumbling down eventually.

• how do you and kaeya meet? it’s a meeting at the tavern, one kaeya somehow remembers well, despite being drunk. you’re just sitting there, but he’s across the room, sitting there and thinking how you are indeed the prettiest thing he has laid his eyes on. does that make him go over there and start flirting with you? absolutely not. he knows all too well about how it’s gonna play out. so he keeps drinking. you however, take notice of the drunken man. his gaze is not at all subtle, so you decided to make the first move.

• he’s taken aback to say the last. he didn’t expect one to just casually walk up to someone who’s in the knight’s of favonius. you ask him what he’s doing getting all wasted when he clearly has work to do, but he merely responds with; “none of your business.” kaeya doesn’t mean to be so rash, but he knows the outcome. you persist however, and that’s what catches him. he finds himself indulging in the conversation, and it doesn’t matter how much he wants to resist doing it, he can’t help but learn more and more about you.

• he plays hard to get. you would think it would be kaeya who goes after his partner, but it is quite indeed the opposite. you don’t mind the challenge though, in fact, it makes you want him all together even more. he eventually grows more and more fond of you, and he confesses behind the closed doors of his office. it’s a rare sight, kaeya blushing profusely as he pours out his feelings. of course, you happily accept, and from then on things change for the better.

• ah, a relationship with kaeya. where do we begin? since you two met at a tavern, it’s only fitting if you two go to said tavern together. it depends on you, if you’re a heavy drinker like him, he would gladly enjoy the two of you getting wasted together. if you aren’t the type to drink, he really pays no mind. he still takes you out with him anyways. one could call it a date of sorts. he would also offer that you could come along with him on expeditions, missions, or other affairs. this however, is only if you bear a vision.

• this brings me to my next point, and it is that kaeya, just like his brother, is very protective of you. it shows in the way he always brings you along with him, wherever he goes. he’s already lose his family, and even though diluc is still there, their bond is distant. he already let his walls down around you, so another person who he cares for deeply leaving him might just absolutely shatter him in the worst way possible. of course, he doesn’t wanna cage you freedom, that is never his intention. but sometimes he can’t help but lash out at you. and at those times, it can get pretty serious. he always sincerely apologizes for his actions.

• kaeya is such a flirt, and it’s canon. the spark in your relationship would never fade because this cheeky man is always spewing compliments at you, one after another. he enjoys it so much, it’s written all over his face. and he especially does it in public. a man is trying to flirt with you? well kaeya is there to steal the show. all you can do is giggle and play along because it’s just so fun. he loves to see your face light up in happiness which is why he keeps doing it.

• it’s no hidden fact that kaeya is a captain for the knight’s of favonius. if you see where i’m going with this, kaeya is a busy man. and he hates it. trust me, he much rather be getting drunk in diluc’s tavern or doing absolutely anything instead of working. but he has to do his job, so he’s gone more often then you would think. of course, he much rather be with the love of his life, but duties still call his name. he tries to make your time together very memorable, whether it be doing something crazy or something small. kaeya’s actions speak a lot to you and he always tries to finish whatever he has on his list as fast as possible just to be able to see you again. <3

• this man loves learning about you. the more you tell him, the more fascinated he is. kaeya finds everything about you, your past, your personality, everything so intriguing. he could just sit there and watch you talk for hours because you just look so adorable talking about yourself. if you see yourself rambling a lot, you might apologize for talking so much, but what does kaeya do? this man will just kiss you and tell you: “keep going darling.” even if you try to keep talking, you just keep getting flustered, stumbling over your words and kaeya just starts to laugh at you being an adorable mess. and then he’ll kiss you some more. wholesome moments. <3

• he loves seeing you in his clothes!! definitely the type to purposely leave his clothes out just so you can steal them. he’ll sometimes let you take his jacket, just to see how good you’ll look wearing it. if you don’t get the hint, he’ll straight up tell you to get your ass in his shirts. you shouldn’t even complain. kaeya has an amazing scent to him, so just relax and drown in it. if you could design clothes he would love to wear some pieces you could make! he’s so in love with you please send some help.

• all in all, kaeya would die for you. he loves you so much and he always remind you of it in his own special ways. he never thought it was possible to love someone this much, but here you are. be patient with him, love with him, do everything with him, it’s amazing to see what you two can do together.

• zhongli would be the best partner. he has experience, and he takes the relationship slow. this is because he wants to learn about you. he wants to take the time and see what your likes and dislikes are. zhongli is so genuinely in love with you. you get flustered when he asks sometimes but he just doesn’t understand why you feel that way. “i just want to get to know you better, my dear.”

• zhongli would take notice of you strolling around the harbor. he has a lot of free time of his hands, and it doesn’t take him long to notice how you sit nearby the flowers or helping the people around you. he would invite you for a small chat with tea, and you would simply melt at his gentleness. these occasional gatherings would become more frequent, and he would become closer to you, eventually developing feelings for you. you couldn’t help but share them back.

• zhongli addresses you so endearingly it makes me burst into tears. he would definitely call you ‘my dear/dearest’, ‘my love’, or ‘darling’. it’s always said in a gentle voice, that you have to turn your head towards him. he doesn’t mind calling you affectionately in public, but he does ask for your permission. if you agree, he says in a quiet voice in public, usually when he’s worried about losing you in the crowd. if you aren’t quite familiar with such names, he would reserve them for when the two of you are with close acquaintances.

• zhongli loves holding hands with you. chances are, his hands are quite larger in comparison to yours. (even if your hands are bigger, he loves them the same.) he loves feeling the warmth of intertwined hands. he’ll hold your hand everywhere, it’s kind of how he shows his protectiveness over you. also expect a lot of headpats. it’s a habit he’s developed from dealing with people younger then him. (ahem.. hu tao..)

• further into your relationship, zhongli would come clean about being the geo archon. he trusts you, and he doesn’t want to hide anything from you, otherwise it slowly eats at him until he finally gives up and confesses. the way you take this information can have an effect on your relationship. he trusts you, but if you betray that trust, and start to reveal his secret, he will have no choice but to ‘take care of you.’

• dates with zhongli are very.. informative. the guy will keep talking about anything honestly. it’s an old habit, but you don’t mind. it’s relaxing to hear him ramble about such topics. he notices that when he gets carried away in his story, you’re sitting there staring at him with a soft smile. he gets nervous, but that doesn’t mean he loses him composure. expect for the two of you to stroll around liyue harbor or the guili plains. the date will mostly just consist of grasping the scenery of liyue or maybe eating out in a restaurant. it will most likely be in a private setting, since he is so well known in the harbor, he doesn’t want anyone interrupting while he’s with his partner.

• but more than anything, zhongli loves staying at home. like diluc, he will show his affectionate manners in the comfort of your house. it’s adorable, really. the saying “actions speak louder than words” really sticks by zhongli. he’ll show his love for you in many ways, no matter if it’s cooking a meal for you, helping you with chores, or just sitting together in each other’s presence. you both discover new things together, and it really does warm zhongli’s heart.

• he never wants to see you upset. no lover would want this, but it hits zhongli in a different way. if he sees even a little tear forming, he gets very worried. zhongli always wants you to be happy, as cheesy as it sounds. if you are quite sensitive or cry quite a bit, it’s no need to worry. zhongli will always be there to wipe your tears away and comfort you. i can imagine during night if you were to breakdown and cry, he would just take you in his arms and cradle you, telling you that you’re so strong fot pushing on: “you’re okay my love, shh i’m here for you. i’m always gonna be here.” i’m crying oh god. never be afraid to let your emotions show around him, he’s always gonna be there.

• zhongli carries a lot of burdens. being the oldest out of the archons, he has quite legitimately seen everything. it’s painful to live with the thought of having slaughtered thousands, maybe millions of people. being with you subdues that burn by a good amount. if anything, he learns to be forgiving from you. not only to other people, but also to himself. he’s also learned to not be so uptight with everything, since it’s quite hard for him to let his guard down around people.

• truthfully, zhongli would have never thought it was possible for him to love someone as much as he loves you. even if he knows you will soon leave him, it’s overshadowed by the love he holds for you. zhongli is a very intimate lover once you get to know him, so during your relationship things are always lively.

#genshin impact xiao #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact kaeya #genshin impact zhongli #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons

115 notes · View notes

magicalicefairy · 3 years ago

Text

𝔹𝕖𝕪𝕠𝕟𝕕 𝕄𝕪𝕥𝕙𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔸𝕘𝕖𝕤 - ᛒᛖᛃᛟᚾᛞ᛫ᛗᛃᚦᛋ᛫ᚨᚾᛞ᛫ᚨᚷᛖᛋ

Chapter 2 “Memories”

Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornsson x OC / Tyr x Persephone

Warnings: strong language

Word Count: 2.7

Chapter 1 AO3 Wattpad

"Ros!" I shouted through the golden fields of the Elysium. "Ros, where are you?" I looked around nervously. Where was that dog again? I let my gaze wander through the distance and couldn't see my dog anywhere. Well, he'll be back and I made my way back to my Acropolis. The sun was shining and warming my skin. The wind blew a light breeze through my blond hair. It smelled of fresh flowers and hundreds of different colors glittered in the distance. The Elysium was the purest paradise and it was my paradise, mine all alone. Even when I was at home here and felt comfortable, I longed for my mother. For other people with whom I could talk, laugh and celebrate. Unfortunately, I couldn't get out of my paradise, because it was also my prison, in which I was to live until the end of my days.

I shook my head and got myself out of my thoughts. I entered my Acropolis and heard the familiar bark of my dog Ros. I quickened my pace and saw Ros, who was sitting in front of my throne and was being petted by a man.

“Ros, there you are! I've been looking for you all over the place! ”I approached the man and he looked up at me. He had light gray-blue eyes.

"This is your dog?" He asked, getting to his feet.

I nodded and Ros came to lick my hand. I looked down at him and couldn't be angry with him.

"And you are?" I was about to say when Hermes came into the throne room, accompanied by another man.

"Persephone!" There you are! The emissaries of the Aesir are here to make agreements for the purpose of unifying our peoples. ”He concluded and pointed to the man next to him and the man who had previously petted Ros. Damn it! I had totally forgotten about the meeting and hadn't really prepared myself. Silly me! Of course that had to come across as totally unprofessional. I tried to improvise and nodded in agreement to Hermes.

“Hermes, of course. I was just looking for Ros and overlooking the time. I'm sorry for the delay gentlemen, ”I said. That was half a lie. Ros had actually disappeared and Hermes knew how much I loved the dog.

"That's Thor, Lord of Thunder," said Hermes, pointing to the man standing next to him. He was tall, had a huge beard and long brown hair, and his blue eyes looked at me kindly.

"And Tyr, Lord of Justice," pointing to the man on my left. He also had brown hair that was already graying slightly at the temples.

"Your Majesty," he said and bowed.

I immediately raised my hands. “No please, a simple Persephone is enough in my realm! Formalities are for the boring! ”I said and gave him a smile.

"Great, nice to meet you!" Said Thor and bowed respectfully.

Hermes stepped in. "Then should we start negotiations?"

I shook my head. “Oh my dear Hermes, why don't we show our guests around a little and then have a fresh glass of wine? Can we then make the agreements afterwards? "

Thor nodded enthusiastically. He didn't seem like the guy for a long speech. After all, I wanted to get to know the people I was supposed to negotiate with. It was good for all of us. Hermes seemed to agree, only Tyr looked something, how should I say? Was it annoyed? He probably wanted to get straight to the point.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," he said, looking at me steadfastly.

I walked up to him, looked him straight in the eye and replied in a sugar-sweet voice: "Ah, a boring man". I walked past him and headed for the exit. "Please follow me!"

Thor laughed and gave Tyr a nudge. "Come on you boring one!" And winked at him.

__________________________________________________________

Lost in thought, I stared at the ceiling of my tent. I heard the rain pattering on my tent roof outside. Eivor had helped me to find a suitable place for my house around noon and we had found a good place not far from the longhouse by the river. Of course I slept in a tent until my house could be built. I felt a lot safer and more at home than in my hut in the burned down village. Eivor introduced me to some of the villagers, including Gunnar the blacksmith, Petra the huntress, and Sigurd's wife Randvi. She was often in the longhouse at the alliance map and handled all incoming letters and alliance inquiries. She was really nice and had given me a warm welcome. Of course, I assured everyone in the clan that I would take good care of their complaints, be it nausea or when they just dont feel well. I turned on my straw mat and tried to sleep but couldn't. After what felt like an eternity, I decided to unpack a few of my things that we were able to save from my old hut.

I decided on a small box that I had taken from my home in Greece. Inside were mementos of my native country and my mother. A small glass of white sand, a small necklace that belonged to my mother and a figure of the goddess of spring: Persephone wrapped in linen and carved from hold. I carefully unwrapped it and placed it on a small table. I lit candles and prayed a few words to Persephone. I noticed how the rain was lessening and looked outside. It had to be late because I could only hear the crickets chirping and the moon shone brightly. It had become quiet in the village. Suddenly I felt like going for a walk, because I couldn't sleep anyway. I took a small scarf and wrapped it around my shoulders and went on my way to get some fresh air. The ground was muddy from the rain, but I smelled the freshness of the grass and saw a few scattered fireflies buzzing through the air. I went up the hill to the large oak tree and looked into the long branches. The tree was remarkably beautiful. He looked old and wise, as if he had already been through a lot.

"Can't you sleep either?" I heard a voice behind me.

I turned around and saw Sigurd approaching me. He was just too tall to be overlooked. He smiled.

"No, I couldn't sleep," I replied, looking up at the tree again.

"Neither did I" I only heard him. In some way he made me nervous and I tried to avoid his gaze. Every time he looked at me it felt like he was looking into my soul. I thought it was a little strange.

"Quite a big tree," he said as he followed my gaze.

"Right? It must have seen a lot! ”I said, fascinating.

"Have seen a lot? How should a tree have seen something? It's just standing there and judging his size, it has for a while“ he scratched his chin.

“Well, we're not the first people to be here. It's been here for a couple of decades, ”I told him. "You can see that from the thickness of the trunk"

"Ah, she knows not only about healing, but also about trees," he teased me.

"Funny, but that's true!" I couldn't help but smiled. "You can actually see that on the rings in the trunk, but I think that's a topic for another time."

Sigurd laughed. I looked at him and laughed too. I felt really comfortable here and was happy to finally be able to talk to other people without them calling me a witch.

"What topic would you like to talk about?" He asked me.

"I beg your pardon?" I looked at him.

"Well, you mean, that's a topic for another time, so we have to talk about another"

"Oh, yes, that's right", embarrassed, I looked at the floor. I had no idea what to talk about, as I said, he makes me extremely nervous. He exuded such confidence and authority.

“Eivor told me that you are not from England. Although I noticed that myself.

“Oh yes, I'm from Greece. It's really nice there and it's much warmer than here. The beaches are full of white sand and the sea is crystal clear. "

I stared dreamily at the stars. I felt homesick. I left everything behind. My friends, my home and all of that for this. For England, for an adventure, a dream that turned out to be a nightmare. My mother died when I was a child and I never had more family. I grew up with friends of my mother's and developed a passion for plants, flowers and herbs like her. Tears welled up in my eyes at the memories. Sigurd noticed and stepped towards me.

"I'm sorry Ella, that was probably the wrong topic" he wanted to pat my back, but I swallowed my tears and shook my head.

"No, everything is OK. Only memories came up again. Everything is fine, ”I assured him.

"Sure?" Asked Sigurd. He looked worried and looked like he was feeling guilty.

I nodded and pulled the scarf tighter around my shoulders. I started to shiver, after all it was pretty cold. The wind picked up and the leaves of the old oak rustled. Sudden tiredness overwhelmed me and I looked in the direction of my tent.

"Shall I accompany you to your tent?" I heard Sigurd say. It seemed to me that he could read my mind. I nodded barely noticeably and we both walked down the slope towards the river. On the way we were silent and you could only hear our heavy footsteps on the muddy ground. I stopped in front of my tent and turned around.

“Thank you Sigurd. I wish you a good night ”I gave him another smile, looked at him briefly, turned on my heel and went straight to my tent. I only heard a "sleep well" and heard his footsteps faintly receding.

I didn't want to get on anyone's nerves with my problems. Especially not the Jarl. Because it was up to him whether I could stay in Ravensthorpe or not. I decided to go to sleep, because tiredness had finally caught up with me and when I was lying on my bed, i almost fell asleep instantly.

When I woke up the next morning, it was already busy outside. I heard footsteps and some of the people talking to each other. I got dressed and washed my face.

Today I decided on a purple dress that I pulled over my pants. Over it I put the scarf from yesterday and decorated the whole thing with an ornate belt. I wanted to ask Gunnar if he could forge some tools that i can use to make my potions and medicine. I was missing a couple of spoons, knives, and bowls. When I got to the forge, Gunnar was already at work. Sweat dripped from his forehead and he pounded on a piece of steel.

"Hello Gunnar!" I said and waved to him.

Gunnar looked up and a big grin emerged.

“Nice to see you Ella. I hope you have settled in well! What brings you to old Gunnar? ”He asked and put his hammer aside.

“I have a list of tools here that I need for my work. Can you make it for me? ”I handed him the piece of paper. He read it through briefly and then nodded in agreement. We negotiated a fair price and I paid my order with the remaining coins that I still carried with me.

"Thanks Gunnar and maybe see you later!"

I didn't really know what to do with myself, because there wasn't any work for me yet. I strolled through the village for a while and made a detour to Hytham. He was a really nice young man. He told me that he had a little accident in Norway, when he was helping Eivor kill a man named Kjotve. I asked him to look at the injury, but he declined thankfully and said everything was okay. I respected his decision and said goodbye. Hytham also had a mentor, Basim. A handsome man with shoulder length black hair. There was something mysterious about him, but just like Hytham, he had been really kind to me. But he was out with Sigurd most of the time.

“Ella! There you are. I've been looking for you everywhere! ”Eivor came up the slope of the longhouse towards me as I was about to leave Hytam's hut. He looked a little sweaty.

"Eivor? Is everything okay? ”I looked at him nervously.

“We need you in the longhouse for a moment. At the map table to be precise, “he nodded his head towards the house. "Come over"

I nodded and followed Eivor. Did i do anything wrong? Would they chase me away now because I no longer fit here? Question after question shot through my mind. I was probably worrying too much again and I was indeed, because when I got to the room with the map table, Randvi and Sigurd were already standing around it.

"Ahh Ella, we have a question about Grantebridgescir" Randvi greeted me.

“About Grantebridgescir? Why me? ”I wanted to know and stared at her with a questioning look.

"You lived there, can you tell us something about the Danes who lived there?" Randvi took a step towards me.

I said that there was a Danish woman named Soma who was in charge until she and her clan were evicted out of Grantebridge. But I didn't know where they were currently because I had nothing to do with them.

Randvi nodded to Eivor and Sigurd and she took out a letter.

“Here is a request for help to retake the Scir. In return we would get a alliance with them. ”she explained to me and pointed to the letter. "Do you think we can trust her?"

I shrugged. "Unfortunately I don't know her personally, but I heard she treat her people well and is an excellent fighter"

“Well then I think we can take the risk. Eivor? I think that's your specialty, ”Sigurd said to Eivor.

Eivor agreed and immediately set off for Grantebridgescir. I hurried after Eivor to warn him at the door about a man named Wigmund.

"Be careful Eivor, the man is dangerous." I said worried. "At then end, i have to patch you up." I smiled at him.

"Don't worry Ella, I know how to deal with bad men," he winked at me.

I had to laugh. Yes he knew that. I nodded to him and I said goodbye to him. I saw him walking down the slope to the harbor when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and saw Sigurd standing in front of me.

"Ella, I wanted to ask again if everything is okay?" He smiled slightly.

I looked at him puzzled.

"I mean because of yesterday, I'm sorry."

Then it came to me.

“Oh Sigurd, you don't have to apologize. It's all right. Really, ”I assured him when I saw that he raised an eyebrow. "It only brought up old memories and was a bit homesick"

"I can understand that," he said understandably

I nodded and looked embarrassed again at the floor.

“I should go see Gunnar. I had ordered a few things and maybe it is already finished ”I looked in the direction of the forge.

"All right.See you Ella “he gave me another smile, turned around and went back to the map room.

I took a deep breath and made my way to Gunnar. What was wrong with me? My brain always switched itself off in Sigurd’s presence. He was really nice and it was really nice of him to ask again. Why did he confused me so much? I shook my head to get rid of these thoughts and resolutely marched to Gunnar's forge.

12 notes · View notes

serotinals · 3 years ago

Note

What makes you write poem where does it come from where does you're soul belong do you believe in it's existence if you do then on what reasons what flowers means to you what you know about moon? stranger❄

hi ty for ur questions 💕 i’ve been writing poems since i was 7 or 8, and it’s always been to help ground me when my emotions are overwhelming me, and to make sense of what i’m feeling. i also am just really fascinated by language, and the never ending amount of ways that words can go together. as for souls, i do believe in them, but i’d say i’m tentatively spiritual rather than religious. i believe that there is likely a higher intelligence beyond humanity, and that our souls are somehow connected to/come from that source. as for flowers and the moon, i love the beauty and endless symbolism of them both. i also love anything to do with the natural world and it’s processes 💝

#that answer was LONG lol but i hope it’s sufficient <33

3 notes · View notes

saraskorganteigen · 3 years ago

Text

The Nuddle Phase (spaghettification)

Second phase of A New Project (working title)

(More working titles: The Black Hole Project / Portal state of being)

https://images.app.goo.gl/VHRS7UGrwmzpC2Yr7

Using my study blog here more actively, since it’s a good medium to collect some of the topics and studies from the magnetic atmosphere around the black hole.

I call it the the nuddle phase, referring to the nuddle effect or spaghettification which surrounds some black holes, which dissolves all matter coming into its atmosphere into long nuddle like strips. (Reflecting how I am feeling, trying to be open, and being overwhelmed by inspiration when I opened up for being open..) I am trying to accept this chaotic place as being just a phase. So I’m working actively from and with metaphors here, because as I found they make us use both side of our brain(MR machines study on Shakespeare and The Book of Symbols intro), I decided to use them as a method. As method they function as keys to new doors, and also as glue to this difficult phase of my project, where everything dissolves as meaningless chaos in one second, and everything makes sense again in the next. (But remembering my goal with this exercise/project: follow my intuition, being open).

Material 1: Topics from the book: Celtic mysteries, The ancient religion, John Shirley.

#1: Pictographic stone and rock art.

Mapping inner landscapes?

Someway I was dragged back to the cave drawings. First time it was the very first cave art founds: the hands: my fascination was of the imagery of the human first mark, a trace or mark of mans creative ability and need for expression.

(Note: Me working with collages of small cutouts of objects, people, creatures and drawing between them suddenly hit me reminds of these pictographic stones).

My impression of these cave art motives also walks me back to the black hole and wormhole as metaphors. Their alien/fantasy like creatures reminds me about mythological/ Symbolic/ archetypal creatures. I wonder if they made them to communicate (or see in front of them) states or stories about their inner experiences? Being primitive and spiritual, probably more connected to the inner images. Bigger part of their world. Perhaps dreams? We’re they mapping their inner landscapes? The later stone plates (2) remind me about books or visual storytelling.

These looks like sketches or drodeling! The marks/drawings of someone learning or enjoying. A beginner. The joy of being a beginner. (A beginners mind, Zen).

#Seeing. Joy of creating. Reflecting inner and outer reality to images. Drawing: marks. Traces. (Tracing/threads). Language (before language). Symbols(as language before language). Before language was symbols. Archetypal imagery? Mapping an inner landscape? Learning. Beginner. Serpent. Antennas. Sketching. Beginners mind. Portals/ufo like lights/door? Flowers.

Ideas: making a pictorial stone plate. Draw on stone. Occupy a cave, bring my black hole rug and let my whitepainted character work site specifically in there with mapping an inner landscape (version 2021).

#2: Caves as tombs and meditation space.

These caves were communal tombs used by Celtic and pre Celtic shamans, “the living embodiment of the collective psyche, the link with the anscestral spirit world”. These tombs represented for them “the forces where heaven and earth would meet (..) and was a source of his power”. “The vulva shape represented how widespread was the ancient believe in the burial receptacle as a womb-place of the Earth-mother and the Other-world”.

They may have been used for meditation or initiation, since they had chamber and a passage, with a “stone bed” and space for smoke to escape.

I got a small shock when I saw this patterns in the passages of Megalithic communal burial chambers from around the Baltic and south europe. Since they remind me about the pattern I made on the backside of my black hole rug. It reminds me also here about fingerprints, gates filled with energy. Vibrating.

(Everything is energy, and that’s all there is to it. -Einstein)

2 notes · View notes

astrologysvt · 5 years ago

Text

SVT as Boyfriends - Vernon

Happy Birthday Nonie~ 🎉 You confuse me constantly and that makes me want to baby you 💛

anonymous asked: im not sure if u do these kinds of posts so feel free to ignore if u don’t but can i request vernon as a bf according to his chart? i love ur blog! 💗

this reading is more geared towards their habits in relationships and romance! i did end up talking a little about intimacy. i’m not putting any kind of nsfw warning because this is extremely pg and it’s honestly a gigantic stretch to even categorize it as that. but if that’s something you’re incredibly averse to i wanted to be sure to say it here so you can skip this reading if that’s the case~ also, i ended up using “you” generally because writing “s/o” was getting tiring.

so his chart really strongly indicates that he’s very independent and thrives when he’s allowed to be a free spirit.

but there’s also a part of him that is deeply committed through that cap venus.

super reliable boyfriend, and that’s also in due part to his scorpio moon.

he would drop absolutely everything if you needed him.

he is super super protective and will absolutely throw hands if someone were to say anything negative about you.

even with a moon trine mars that makes him slow to anger, his principals are so strong through his aqua placements, scorpio moon, and cap venus that he would absolutely not stand for it.

this would be one of the few times he could justify resorting to anger, and while he may not attempt to hunt the offender down, you will definitely notice a dramatic change in demeanor as he rarely ever lets this side show.

and then when you take that sense of being protective and pair it with his cap influence, he really likes taking care of you.

he’s very competent in that regard, and he shows this in practical ways like getting you lunch, giving advice, maybe offering to help with work. things like that.

this also makes him very receptive for when you return the favor! like when woozi prepared a meal for him that one time when they were overseas, you could see how touched he was by the gesture and the thoughtfulness behind it.

he’s also very emotionally intuitive thanks to that scorpio moon and pisces mars.

he’s super observant and would get really really good at reading you over time.

may not express his support in so many words thanks to his moon square mercury making him pretty awkward with it -- this placement makes it hard for his aqua moon to convey how feeling/intuitive he is -- but he will certainly let you know he is there if you need him.

i also find scorpio placements don’t really put their feelings in so many words.

even with an emphasis on intellect with an aqua sun and mercury, he’s bound to not be the quickest to shower you in verbal love/appreciation and is more willing to let his actions speak for himself.

if he’s going to say anything, it’s going to be sincere and straight to the point.

and what’s interesting is that he’s got this scorpio moon, so i can imagine him actually being a pretty possessive boyfriend regardless of how chill he is normally.

BUT I DO WANNA MAKE IT CLEAR that that doesn’t necessarily mean he’d be a restrictive boyfriend either.

especially with those cap/scorpio/aqua influences that would really respect someone who was their own person and didn’t apologize for that. tbh i think the last thing he’d wanna do is restrict that.

i think well developed scorpio placements honestly just like having proof that you are committed and most certainly their s/o.

would probably say things like “that’s my ____” just to assert this fact very casually, affectionately, even playfully.

really honestly just likes knowing and being reminded that you’re his, may it be through gestures or physical proof (you wearing his clothes, promise rings, you going out of your way to do something for him, hickeys.)

his moon sextile venus makes him very romantic and affectionate.

he feels a lot of love and is very emotionally invested in his partner in this very protective scorpio manner, and thanks to its relationship to venus he goes about expressing this love in very practical yet classy ways.

he has a tendency to randomly do the most thoughtful romantic gestures.

he does have this free spirit that’s pretty easily distracted so it may not be the most obvious or well planned gestures.

but it’d be things like. if he’s out and sees something that reminds him of you he’ll bring it home, may it be flowers or your favorite food.

it’s interesting because, as out-there as he is himself, he really craves a sense of predictability in relationships.

this cap brings a sense of tradition and loves the idea of stable, long-term relationships.

he’d bring a strong sense of reliability and practicality to relationships.

he’s very dedicated but simultaneously very levelheaded and realistic with you.

scorpio moon can give him a bit of a jealous streak.

but i’ll say it again: that may not be as bad as it sounds if his emotional control is good. which IT IS thanks to his moon trine mars.

his moon trine mars means these feelings never result to actual anger or action. he’ll let you know his comfort levels, but it’s highly unlikely he’d act out negatively due to feelings of jealousy.

he may just get a little extra handsy, affectionate, or may ask for reassurance!

tho i do think it’s interesting to note he may not normally be the most physically affectionate guy.

he has such airy placements that he isn’t going to subconsciously reach out without noticing if that makes sense.

if he’s reaching out himself, it’s probably very intentional and more than likely with the intention to show support or as little random “i love yous” throughout the day.

as i said before, he’s rather awkward with putting these things into words so body language may be a huge factor in communicating with him in relationships which makes him pretty purposeful with it as well.

this kinda loops back in to how much of a lone wolf he is sometimes -- not that he doesn’t like affection, it’s just not in his instinctual wiring as he’s pretty solitary in that brain of his.

his well aspected moon and pisces mars, however, makes it very easy for him to accept affection and makes him pretty physical expressive.

he may need space every now again, but will probably very easily let you know when that is (may it be verbally or through body language) and is open to however cuddly you wanna be the rest of the time.

his pisces mars makes him a very sensitive and emotional boyfriend, especially in relationship to intimacy.

i think it’s important to mention because he has this very airy, independent, almost detached attitude about him on the surface.

you really do get the sense that he’s on another planet, or that he could potentially be OVERLY practical, logical, and not easily perturbed by emotion -- but that is absolutely not the case behind closed doors.

lol okay maybe he’s still on another planet, but he isn’t removed/indifferent. rather he’s very attentive and sincere.

this is where he kind of loses his sense of practicality and can be pretty all-giving and obsessive.

pisces influence on the part of mars means he takes physical relationships very seriously and sees it as a non-verbal expression of love and intention.

he also has a very subtle, gentle, traditional way of approaching intimacy.

it’s genuinely an experience sharing that part of himself with someone, and it’d be in those moments that you would truly understand the full extent of his feelings.

not only that, but he’s very emotionally sensitive in this regard.

allowing someone in to that degree can actually be a very daunting experience for him.

not necessarily if it were a merely physical relationship without the romantic/intimate association, but knowing that there is is this devotion involved makes the concept of allowing someone to see and understand the depth of this side to him a really hard thing to wrap his head around.

this is heightened by that cap venus that doesn’t take to commitment lightly.

with a pisces influence there is kind of a switch they have with regard to emotionally packed situations -- they’re either detached out of risk of those feelings becoming all-consuming, or extremely feeling and potentially open to this all-consuming aspect and to them that is an extremely vulnerable feeling especially with another person involved.

and so for him to go into those romantic situations and decide to be open and sensitive, that can be a really overwhelming thing especially with so many placements that value individuality and composure.

ESPECIALLY with a scorpio moon which is already an incredibly intense placement to have, there’s a great deal of investment that’s kind of hard for him to face head-on and this is honestly because he can hardly fathom these depths himself.

and then you throw in this super airy influence through his aqua and this intensity within him may fly completely under the radar until he’s forced to face it.

it IS important to note that his moon trine mars both kind of heighten the intensity of these situations, while also giving him better tools to process them.

his scorpio moon also means that he’s really fascinated with these feelings even though they’re very daunting.

it can be “scary” but he isn’t particularly deterred if he trusts you because of how all-in scorpio placements can be as they love the concept of delving past the point of no return.

if he’s at that point where he’s so deeply committed, his scorpio is going to give him the confidence to take that step.

but because this part of him is so emotionally sensitive and reactive, he may retreat every now and then.

it is important not to interpret this as indifference/distance, often times he doesn’t know exactly who he wants to be some days and so you kinda gotta be okay with the unexpected.

this is simply because he gets overwhelmed and needs space, otherwise it just feels like he’s staring into the sun non-stop.

but if you learn how to read him, his energies, his body language/rhythm, you’ll understand how big and bleeding his heart is and how he expresses this, even when he’s not 100% there.

lololol all of this sounds SO DRAMATIC.

it’s funny writing this because vernon has such an air forward chart.

I wouldn’t be surprised if, for some WILD reason, he read this reading and thought this was a dramatic description as well.

he really is his own person and i imagine this reading feels super left of field and honestly that’s because it IS.

a lot of his chart is pretty hard to pin-down and generally more focused on developing the self than depending on external forces like relationships, and so it’d take a lot for him to get to this point.

you can tell even now it’s hard to imagine what he’d be like in a relationship he’s so singular, and i imagine even his members know there is a bit of a wall despite how much an open book he is.

i really think that it’d take the right person for him to place such a strong importance on emotion in order to make this reading super relevant to him.

his aqua and cap are pretty hard to convince and are logical/intellectual enough that it’s often hard for those placements to surrender that mental control over to emotion/the intangible.

and so I don’t imagine this is a part of his chart that he would fully be aware of until he’s in an incredibly committed relationship and these placements are tested by being forced to accommodate someone else so intimately.

because otherwise he’s his own unit. these parts aren’t scary to him by himself, but they’re naturally very private so sharing these aspects is what switches things up.

generally he’s a very thoughtful boyfriend!

his weird habits are going to stay intact because of how independent he is and, if his chart is really well developed, he’d never let his individuality be compromised by a relationship.

tho i will not lie, a scorpio moon and pisces mars may put him at risk of losing himself a bit as that scorpio moon has a tendency towards obsession, while that pisces mars can really easily get absorbed and lost in the case of love.

but with that being said, i think his aqua and cap are so established in his chart through his work and personal values that i don’t think he is in any actual danger.

so back to my main point.

he has such a strong understanding of himself and his life/goals through that aqua/cap, but there is so much in his chart that is really eager to bring someone into that.

he’s def the type of guy that makes it hard to fathom how committed he could possibly be on the surface, but once the relationship deepens, it gets clearer and clearer how romantic and devoted he is.

and also how simple and straight forward he actually is about these things, which in a way adds to the romance and earnestness.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #vernon #hansol #hansol vernon chwe #lolol another super randomly long one like joshua's chart first impressions #this one hurt my brain #scheduling this #and praying it's in comprehensible english #also had a heart attack cuz i thought for a second tumblr deleted this

217 notes · View notes

bluesfortheredj · 4 years ago

Text

The long wait.

Smut ahead.

There wasn’t much you didn’t remember from yours and Samuel’s first meetings back in England all those months ago; he was a remarkably handsome man who intended to marry you and his kindness shone through like the sun through the clouds, he was absolutely the perfect gentleman. What you didn’t remember, however, was just how much you were attracted to him when he grew his beard out, and after last seeing him with a thing scattering of stubble along his chiselled jawline, seeing him with a lush beard when you stepped off of the boat was a little shocking. Your wobbly sea legs just about manage to take you to him with your bag of belongings, then a shy girl picks it up as soon as you’ve put it down and Samuel takes your hand to gently kiss the back of it, and you fight to stay upright and not faint in his arms.

“It feels as though I have been waiting so long for you to return to me my love,” he smiles as he gently lets go of your hand, “words cannot do justice to how happy I am right now as you stand before me almost as a mirage in the desert. Am I dreaming, or is this real?”

His words, his sweet words that were like a match to the tinder within you, lighting your soul from within and making you warm all over.

“It is certainly real Samuel,” you chuckle, “could you introduce me to your maid?”

“Of course!” he gasps, forgetting about the poor girl next to him momentarily, “(Y/N), this is Mercy; Mercy, this is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), soon to be Mistress Castell.”

“I’ve never had a Mistress before! I am overjoyed to meet you Miss (Y/L/N)! I-”

“Mercy,” Samuel laughs, “calm down! Why don’t you take (Y/N)’s bag back to the house and we will follow.”

“Yes, of course Sir, right away!” she nods fervently before racing ahead of you both.

“What a lovely young girl,” you sigh as you take Samuel’s arm, his forest green cloak moved to one shoulder.

“She is very sweet,” Samuel agrees, “how was your journey my dear?”

“Quite horrendous actually, I’m not feeling very well after the turbulent crossing, would it be okay for me to rest for a while when we get to your house?”

“Our house,” he corrects, “of course it would. Do you need Mercy to get you anything from the doctor? I’ll make sure she brings you some fresh water.”

“Thank you Samuel, I should be okay once my head has stopped spinning.”

He stops a few steps from the front door and turns towards you to study your face carefully then smooths your hair back from your face with a worried expression, “you are a little pale… but my goodness you are so beautiful my darling. I could stand here looking at you forever and be completely content.”

“Samuel,” you blush, looking away from his intense gaze as some colour begins to radiate throughout your cheeks, “I must confess… you are even more handsome than I remember.”

“Oh, (Y/N), I cannot wait until you are my wife,” he exhales softly, sending a shiver up your spine, “come, you must rest now.”

He leads you into the house and through to the bedroom where your bag sits on top of a stool and Mercy is unpacking your belongings while humming a sweet tune.

“Mercy, (Y/N) needs some fresh water please. She will be taking the rest of the day to recover from her tumultuous journey here.”

“Of course Master Castell,” she nods, leaving the bag and darting out of the room to fetch water.

“I shall leave you to change my love,” Samuel smiles as he finally slips his arm from yours, “I will return soon to make sure you have settled.”

“Thank you.”

A sudden urge overwhelms Samuel and with one quick look to your lips he moves towards your face slowly, his intention to kiss you clear, and you’re powerless to resist the gorgeous man so meet him half way and press your lips to his with a force that takes you by surprise. Your desperation to be near this man is evident in the way your hands slide around his back, and his own need shows in the way his hands grip onto the fabric of your dress as he pulls you into his body, pressing you as close as humanly possible while his lips claim yours as his own.

“Goodness,” you pant when the kiss eventually ends, “I certainly need to lay down after that.”

“(Y/N) you have completely captured my heart, oh how I wish I could continue kissing you,” his eyes trail down your body then back up again, “my lips against your skin, pressing themselves upon every inch of your body...”

“Samuel, please say no more my love, I do not trust that I can keep my hands to myself if you carry on with these tempting words.”

You both inhale deeply then hold the breath for a few seconds before he walks out of the room and you exhale quickly as you let your body fall back onto the bed. Mercy soon returns with a fresh pail of water and quickly gets you a cup before unlacing your bodice and setting out your night gown for you to change in to.

Samuel finds you in a deep sleep a while later and after donning his night clothes he tentatively slips in the bed next to you, propping himself up on his elbow as he lays on one side so he can study your peaceful features quietly. He’d loved you since the day he saw you and being apart for such a long time had only made his love grow stronger, as did yours, and now you were here within touching distance he was even more desperate for the wedding day. Your eyes flutter open slowly to see Samuel next to you with his eyes wandering your form and you can’t help but smile as his gaze meets yours.

“How are you feeling my love?” he asks.

“Much better thank you Samuel.”

“Very good,” he smiles, “tomorrow I shall show you the rest of the settlement then we shall speak to the priest about our marriage ceremony.”

“It can’t come soon enough,” you sigh.

He leans in and kisses you gently, part of his body weight resting on your side comfortingly, and an unintentional whimper slips from your mouth into his which causes him to pull away suddenly; his urges only heightening at the sweet sound you’d just made and a tempting look at what was to come for both of you.

“I’m so sorry,” you gasp.

“Do not be sorry for making such a beautiful sound.”

A heat creeps up your cheeks as you lay together with your arms wrapped around one another’s bodies, and eventually you both fall into the most comfortable sleep either of you had had in months. The first thing you do when you wake is reach out towards Samuel’s warmth but his body is missing from the bed and you open your eyes to find that you’re alone, then Mercy pops her head around the door to check you’re awake before entering the bedroom.

“Morning Miss,” she nods, “Master Castell has gone to see the priest then to work. He said we should begin to collect flowers and make your dress for the ceremony.”

“Good morning Mercy,” you smile, “I think that is a wonderful idea he had. Do you know where we may find some fabric? I have the perfect dress but it may need some altering.”

“Yes Miss! I know the place!”

“Excellent! Then I shall dress and we will start our day!”

You and Mercy go about your day in a bubble of excitement at the prospect of the wedding ceremony and you speak to fellow towns folk as you move through the settlement, getting to know who does what around Jamestown. Samuel finishes his work for the day as you stand with Pepper and Silas Sharrow; Mercy blushing profusely every time she looks at Pepper, and you find Silas fascinating to talk to thanks to his relationship with the natives who live just outside of the land.

“My love!” Samuel announces as he nears you and places his arm around your shoulders.

“Samuel,” you smile as he tugs you close, “Silas was just informing me of the tribe who live nearby, did you know he speaks their language?!”

“I did,” Samuel nods, briefly looking at Silas who smiles down at you, “but we should return home my darling, our ceremony is to take place only two days from now!”

“It was a pleasure speaking to you Miss,” Silas nods, “I will no doubt see you at the wedding.”

“And you too Silas-” you cannot finish your sentence as Samuel marches you away from the men, leaving Mercy still swooning over Pepper for a few minutes before she finally realises you’ve left.

“Is everything okay my love?” you question when you get into the house and Samuel throws his cape over the chair with a huff.

“It’s fine,” he sighs, “I just… I cannot explain how I just felt, but seeing Silas eyeing like you like… there’s a rage burning inside me like I’ve never felt before.”

You step towards him, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tries to contain his feelings, then you reach out to place a hand on his torso so you can calm his emotions, and his face instantly softens as he now focuses on your loving gaze. He doesn’t even feel your fingers undoing the buttons of his coat then dipping underneath his shirt until your skin is against the thick hair that covers his chest, and you both inhale sharply at the contact.

“I’m yours,” you say, your voice thick with need before you gulp it down.

All of a sudden his lips are on yours, his hand keeping yours on his chest as he walks you back until you hit the wall, and your heart beats rapidly underneath your dress as your fingers curl against his skin, desperate for him to take you right here and now. His tongue runs along your lower lip before entering your mouth and his hips pin yours to the hard surface behind you as your free hand slides up his arm until it can rest against the side of his neck.

“Master Cast- oh!” Mercy gasps as she enters the house to see you both in the passionate embrace.

You spring apart at the sound of her, both of you panting with shock at your all consuming moment of lust that could have easily lead to a forbidden moment between the two of you if she hadn’t interrupted. There’s an awkward silence before you walk quietly into the bedroom to begin altering your dress, and Samuel rearranges his clothes before facing Mercy to see what she wants.

The next two nights are hell for the both of you as the moment of passion hangs over the two of you like a dark cloud about to strike lightning and cause a fire in your bed; Samuel does nothing to help the matter as he strokes your cheek with his light, loving touch that leaves a trail of warmth wherever he goes, and by the time your wedding ceremony comes around the sexual tension is positively visible between the both of you. Poor Mercy is ultimately relieved as she watches the priest marry you both, and she looks over to Pepper with a shy smile as she thinks about what it would be like to be so close to him.

Cheers sound out around you both as you exit the church and people throw tissue paper over the two of you as a congratulations on your vows while Samuel holds onto your hand with a vice like grip. Eventually the crowd disperses as everyone heads to the tavern for drinks, but as you go to follow them Samuel quickly tugs you back towards him with a devilish smile on his lips. You frown in question to his expression and he answers your furrowed brow with a nod towards the house; everything suddenly becoming perfectly clear as you giggle and bite gently on your lower lip. The mood is vastly different to the other day as you enter the house with joyous laughter and your hands woven together; the passion is very much there but this time you both want to savour the moment and take things slowly as Samuel shuts the world out and leads you to bed.

“You look beautiful,” he whispers softly as he tucks your hair behind your ears and dips his head down to kiss you.

You lips begin a slow dance around one another while Samuel skilfully pulls the strings of your corset free and tugs the sleeves of your dress so they fall from your arms and allow your dress to land in a puddle at your feet, only leaving your white slip covering your body. Samuel’s hands run up and down your sides, feeling his way over every curve of your body while you undo his jacket and trousers carefully, and when he stands before you in all his naked glory you have to break the kiss to take in the sight of him for a moment.

“You’re so gorgeous Samuel,” you breathe, your eyes travelling down to his large manhood.

“Will you come and lay with me my love?” he asks with a smile as he climbs onto the bed and props himself up on his side.

“Of course.”

You slip your undergarment down your body until it lands on top of your dress, then step out of the clothes that lay redundant at your feet and crawl onto the bed next to him as his eyes wander over your silky skin that he’d been yearning to see for so long. He runs the backs of his fingers down from your shoulder to your wrist before he gently pushes you onto your back as his lips meet yours once more, then you feel his fingers ghost over your hip and down through the coarse hair until they eventually reach the sacred place between your legs. Samuel hooks a leg over one of yours to pull them gently apart so he can gain better access and you gasp as his fingertips run along your slit before dipping into your core slowly.

“Does that hurt my love?” he worries.

Your eyes reluctantly open to see his concerned expression hovering above you and you shake your head from side to side in response to his question before slipping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him back down to your waiting lips. His fingers explore deeper and you enjoy the feel of them moving back and forth inside you while you rest your free hand on his chest and let it slip down to his stiffening length, and he moans into your mouth when you wrap your fingers around it. His hips begin to move himself up and down in your grip and you then move your hand so he can lay still beside you as he deepens the kiss.

“You’re going to have to stop my darling,” he pants, “I fear the sensation is becoming too much for me.”

Your hand slowly retreats as his does the same, then he manoeuvres himself so that he’s between your legs with his broad torso above your body.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes Samuel, I’m ready for you,” you whisper back, anticipation making you shiver on the sheets.

“I love you,” he exhales as he carefully pushes his tip inside you.

“I… oh! I love you too.”

You can feel him stretching you out as he moves in deeper, a sting of pain jolting through your body until he finally stills once he’s fully immersed himself inside you, and you look up at him to see his eyes fixed on your hand that bunches the bed sheet up.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, “it’s just a little painful.”

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, pressing kisses to your cheeks and forehead, “I’m so sorry my love, it will pass, I promise.”

You take the still moment to link your fingers at the back of his neck and hold him to your face as you kiss passionately, your body wriggling a little to find a comfortable position and your legs bending as you bring them up to spread them further. The feel of his erect member laying inside you eventually becomes more bearable and gives way to a full sensation that feels completely natural, as if he was made for you and only you, then you lift your hips a little from the bed and he begins to move. As he slides almost all of the way out of you there’s a sense of relief, and when he buries himself back inside your core the pain comes back again but only temporarily this time thanks to his distracting kiss. Eventually your bodies fall into a steady rhythm with one another and the pain gives way to some sort of pleasure that you’d never felt before, your arousal evident by how wet the sounds become as they fill the space around you, and the moans that transfer from your mouth to Samuel’s and back again get steadily louder as his thrusts increase in speed.

“(Y/N),” Samuel pants, “oh my dear (Y/N).”

You attempt to continue the kiss but your lips miss and land on his cheek instead, then he tucks his head into your neck as the sweat on your bodies begins to bead and roll down your skin, and you feel his lips and teeth grazing your jaw as he attempts to speak.

“Samuel!” you cry out as his hips suddenly move faster than ever before.

Your fingers dig into his back as you hold him against your heaving chest and as you carefully run your nails down his spine he lets out one almighty cry of your name before a warmth begins to seep onto the sheets by your buttocks. A loud gasp leaves your mouth as he pulls out suddenly then you watch as he backs down the bed and leans in between your legs until his face connects with your swollen lips. You repeat his name over and over again, unable to say anything else as your mind becomes blank at the feel of his tongue working on a small nub you never even knew you had, and the sheer pleasure it gives you is enough to make you shudder in waves until you feel yourself tightening up to an almost uncomfortable degree before your muscles let go and you let out a high pitched screech at the sudden pleasure that takes over your entire body.

“Sam- Samuel…!” you stutter as you feel your insides pulsing.

He quickly crawls up your body with a smile and captures your lips before you can utter another word, your entire being now belonging to him for the rest of your days.

Hi love, I was wondering if you could do Samuel Castell getting possessive over his little darling please & Im’a just go ahead and request soft smut with Samuel because damn wouldn’t that man be the most caring and loving in bed, calling you “my love” and treating you like a Queen, especially during your first time together right after you’re married

@lv7867 @fuckyou-imspiderman @aynsleywalker @timeandpixiedust @antonomase @queen-bunnyears @leah-halliwell92 @queen-paladin @itsametaphorgwil @drivenbybri

#samuel castell #samuel castell imagine #samuel castell x reader #samuel castell smut #gwilym lee #gwilym imagine #jamestown fic

42 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #342

“in this farewell, there’s no blood, there’s no alibi / ‘cuz i’ve drawn regret from the truth of a thousand lies”

What’s your all-time favourite cartoon? Does anime count? In which case I'd say Fullmetal Alchemist, or the original Pokemon. If we're not including anime, then uhhhh Avatar: The Last Airbender, even though I have much more to go in the series. Have you ever taken dance lessons? What kind? Yeah, I've done a few for many years: jazz, clogging, modern, and hip hop. When did you last run and why? I literally couldn't tell you. I don't even know if I can run with the current state of my legs. My knees would probably crumple. Does your house/flat/whatever the hell you live in need cleaning? Not necessarily cleaning, but sorting. I still have boxes outside and inside my room of my stuff I need to put up somewhere... but whenever I prepare to do it, I just get so overwhelmed and shy away from it. Then there's the spare room, that's a total mess loaded with boxes and the like. Mom and I have just avoided it like the plague. Was your last relationship with a man or a woman? Woman. What do you think your next achievement will be? HOPEFULLY getting a job... Do you like mushrooms? NOOOOOOO. What dream do you remember most vividly? I'm not talking about it. Favorite kind of bread? Pumpernickel. Rabbits or hamsters? Rabbits. I've never met a nice hamster, and I just think rabbits are cuter. A movie you’ve never seen that it seems like every one else has? Harry Potter films. Favorite dog breed? I'm biased towards beagles. When was the last time you climbed a tree? Never, actually. Where I live, there aren't really many weighty trees with low branches. Just pine trees. Most common lie you tell? That I'm "fine" when I'm not. Ever seen your parents make out? Jc no, I'll take a hard pass there. Do you put your hair up a lot or down? It's too short to put up. Most of the time do you straighten or curl your hair? Neither. What piercing do you hate? I'm not a fan of cheek dermals at all, but you do you 100%. Were you raised in a religious house? Yes; I was raised Roman Catholic. Do your parents get mad when you're on the computer for hours? Mom used to for many years until I became an adult and she just realized it was in vain. I haven't lived with Dad since I was a teenager, but when my parents were together, he usually didn't say anything. Have you ever been asked for a nude picture? No, thankfully. I'd stop talking to the person immediately. What would you do if your parent hit you? I honestly feel like I'd slap them back and get the fuck out. Or just freeze in shock and cry. What's your most common mood? Stressed but distracted. Do you like poems? Yeah, usually. Ever kissed someone half-naked? Uh yeah. Have you ever been in a parade? No. Do you still play Pokémon? I play Pokemon GO, and I've actually been tempted to get out my DS and play one of the games I have (I can't remember which). I do find Pokemon games to be VERY grind-ey, though, so I can't play them for too long without getting bored. What is your favorite Pokémon? Ninetales. I also really love Espeon, though, and Charmander will always have my heart. Is there an animal you like that most people don't? Bats! :') Is there an animal that you think is overrated in terms of how it's liked? No animal is overrated. Have you ever "quit" a site and came back to it more than once? Uhhhh I don't think so. Do you have an "odd" fascination with anything? Most would probably consider "vulture culture" to be pretty weird, being drawn to dead animals and all... What's the hardest thing you've been through, & what did you learn from it? The breakup with Jason. I learned that some people make promises they aren't afraid to break, that someone can promise "forever" and not mean it, that the most unexpected can just snap their fingers and forget about you... I learned a lot. And most things, not positive. What are three "unrealistic" things you want most? 1.) To be able to financially support myself by just freelance nature photography; 2.) sooo many different kinds of pets; and 3.) to be totally rid of my mental illnesses. Do you take any daily vitamins? No, but I would if I was the one who bought groceries and stuff. I do however take Vitamin D once a week for my legs. Who are three of your favorite fictional characters of all time? JUST THREE??????? FUCK MAN idk. Uhhh well there's of course Darkiplier and Wilford Warfstache, then uhhh probably Pyramid Head. If you had to give the world a pre-existing mythological/fictional being, what would it be? Idk, I'd really need to be more educated on their lore before I made that decision. Do you have any desire to learn (a) foreign language(s)? Which? I both do and don't want to resume learning German. I got very good at it and could have basic conversations, but lack of application has slaughtered my vocabulary. Now it's like, it'd be nice to try again, but for what purpose? I don't think I'll ever actually apply it to my life, so it just seems like it'd be a load of wasted effort. But then on the other hand, I also feel that doing something you simply want to do isn't a waste of time. Idk. What is one of your firmest beliefs? Equality for all. No race, religion, whatthefuckever makes you more or less valuable than someone else. Do you have anything that keeps you from doing something you'd truly enjoy? Oh yes. Depression and anxiety, mostly. Do you work to fix your faults? Or at least, admit to them? I definitely try, and I'll certainly admit to them. How do you hope the world will change, if at all? I just want more compassion, less violence, more understanding... What is/are your view(s) on god, religion, spirituality, or relations to? In short, I believe that something sentient created the universe, and it/they/he/she/what-have-you just... let life play out from there, I think. I like to believe there's a plane of consciousness like an afterlife that exists, but if not, I don't really care. I hope the evil get what was coming to them, and the good get back what they gave, but maybe we're all better off without life after death. We'll all find out one day. Are you arachnophobic or scared of spiders in the least? Some, yes; others, not so much. This is very situational. Do you play WoW? What do you think of it either way? Haha, you're asking an avid player. I enjoy it, but not as much as I used to. At one point I was a Heroic raider, sometimes dabbling in Mythic, but now I'm just mostly a casual mount collector that likes chatting with my guildies and just doing dailies 'n shit. I owe a lot to the game, honestly; it helped me stay occupied throughout the breakup, and still today gives me something to do. What kind of computer do you have? Windows 7/Vista/XP/Other? I have an Acer Nitro with Windows 10. Are you taking any interesting classes in school/do you not attend? I'm no longer in school. If you don't attend, are you taking any "lessons" for anything? No, but I would like to join a photography course somewhere. A book/piece that has had an exceptional impact on your life? Johnny Got His Gun by Dalton Trumbo just made me hate war more than I innately did. What genres of music are your favorite? Just metal as an umbrella term. Some heavy stuff, some less, some in the middle, some leaning towards other genres... but I just like metal. Do you think that fate plays a part in people's lives? No. Wouldn't "fate" just make it all... worthless? Like we're just storybook characters with a predetermined ending? What are your opinions on the media? One word: manipulative. What's a piece of technology you'd like to own? I REALLY want a PS4, especially lately. There's just a lot of games I REALLY want to play. Are you afraid of technology developing to where we're too reliant on it? We're already *too* reliant on it, which I do believe is a bad thing. I know, absolutely hysterical for me to be talking. What's your favorite odd ice cream flavor? I don't think I've ever had a truly odd ice cream flavor. There's this local place though that makes a kind that tastes JUST like s'mores, and I can fucking murder a cup of that. What's your opinion on stereotypes/labels? They're limiting and devalue uniqueness, imo. I know very, very few people who totally fit a certain stereotype, so why even bother. Like I don't care if you use them as adjectives to some extent, just don't put too much weight on them. Just be you. Do you believe that history repeats itself? It's not necessarily doomed to, but it happens sometimes, obviously. Would you rather learn from your mistakes or just undo them? Depends on the mistake. What was the most interesting class you had in school? Probably Mythology in high school. Do you write? If so, what? Yeah, meerkat role-play. And every now and again, poetry. Do you have a favorite culture? No; I'm not educated on nearly enough to pick one. Do you believe in global warming? Have you researched it? Lol no shit I do. I don't exactly think it takes much research to see with your own two eyes that it's factual. Do you prefer piercings or tattoos? Tattoos, if I had to pick. What comedy movie is your favorite? White Chicks. Have you ever meditated? Yes. Doesn't work for me. What comes to mind when you think of a great moment in your life? Realizing it was my choice to liberate myself and my happiness from my ex. He didn't and never should've carried it, because that's my right. What do you like about springtime? Aaaaall the flowers. <3 How have you handled having to stay in? It's not really different from my average day, so... How would your friends describe you? Quiet and overthinks literally everything. Have you ever hallucinated? When I was coming off a certain med in middle school, I saw black moving shadows. What (or who) is the best thing that ever happened to you? The partial hospitalization program I attended for two months following my suicide attempt. It's where I met my psychiatrist, who set my medication straight. Medicine besides though, I learned so many coping techniques and just how to deconstruct my trauma. As well as possible, anyway. What is the worst decision you ever made? Handing over the ability to make happiness for myself to another person. What is your favorite arcade game? Don't have one. Do you feel neglected? No. What school subject(s) are/were your best? English, Arts, Science. Are you allergic to pollen? Yep. What style of wedding dress do you like best? Probably ballgown. Are you over your first love? I probably never will be in complete totality. Do you always answer your phone? No. I only ever do if I recognize the number. Who was the last person you know to have a birthday? Today is actually my sister's birthday. What song is currently stuck in your head? I have Halocene's cover of "What I've Done" on a loop right now. It has me absolutely covered in goosebumps. Do you ever use coloring books? Not really anymore. Do you personally know anyone who is an author? Not to my knowledge, no. What’s your favorite kind of salsa/dip to go with tortilla chips? Just your normal, mildly hot salsa. Do you wash your car by hand or drive through a car wash? Mom's car hasn't been washed in... well, years, given its bumper. Mom worries that in a car wash, it'll be broken off (it is literally held on with a lot of zip ties and duct tape), and we ourselves don't want to wash it, so... Do you have any uncommon kitchen appliances, such as espresso machines, waffle irons, etc? I know we have one or two, but idk what they're called. What did your parents major/minor in in college, if they went? Dad never went to college. Mom changed her major a few times, but her latest was social work, I believe. Has either of their careers influenced what career you chose or want to pursue? Not at all. What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? Hurricanes. Why is your least favorite season your least favorite? Because it's hot as fuck and humid. Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? No. When was the last time you started a “new chapter” of your life? I don't know. Hopefully I'll start one soon when I leave PHP and pursue a job... What room in your home do you spend the least amount of time in? I'm always in my room. Do you do anything to reduce the amount of electricity you use? I feel awful admitting I do quite the opposite... Being in the dark during the day affects my depression, so I'll have my lamp (or both) on even if it's just sort of shaded inside. Are you usually open to trying a new food that you aren’t familiar with? Eh, it depends on the food. I'm not very adventurous with foods though. Do you listen to Panic! At The Disco? I do. Have you ever had a kinky dream about a celebrity? ... It wasn't "kinky," but it was a dream lmao. Has anyone ever told you that they loved you, and you couldn’t say it back? That's how I ended the whole Joel childishness. Which friend do you confide in most? My mom. Do you wear a cross? No. What is your favorite doughnut? That's so hard. :( Krispy Kreme's normal glazed though probably takes the cake. I also love chocolate frosted and just totally plain, though. Do you have a hot tub? If so, where is it located? No. Did you read the Twilight series, or jump on the bandwagon after the movie? Neither. Do you or your parents rake your yard? Dad did growing up. Now nobody does or needs to. Who did you last go to the movies with? Dad, I think? What color was the last vehicle you were in? White. Do you have any family members in the military right now? No. Is there a ceiling fan in the room you’re in? Yeah. Have you ever heard voices? No. If you’re not straight, who was the first person you came out to? Sara. Do you remember the first time your first crush ever said hi to you? No. Do you ever go places with wet hair? Yeah, idc. Who is your favorite little girl? My nieces. What do you want the most in life? To feel like I made a difference, even a tiny one. If you could have anyone’s singing voice, whose would you choose? OBVIOUSLY Amy Lee's. What’s the most expensive thing you’ve bought that turned out to be a waste of money? *shrug* What’s something you’ve bought that turned out to be way more useful than you anticipated? Hm. Have you ever been on a ship? No. Would you ever date a disabled person? (Be honest) Yes. Would you rather adopt or have your own child? IF I wanted kids, which I absolutely do not, I'd rather have my own. I know I'd feel a deeper connection. What would you class as cheating on someone? As soon as you do/say something you don't want your s/o to know about, you're cheating. As far as earrings go, would you rather wear hoops or studs? Studs. Do you recycle? Yes. If someone dislikes you, what is most likely to be the reason? People have thought I don't try hard enough before. Do you put a line through your "7"s? Yes. ^ What about your "Z"s? Yes. What are you most known for? My art "skill," at least irl. How do you feel about shameless self-promoting? Depends on when, where, and how. As someone who's trying to be a freelance photographer, I get that it's sadly necessary, but there are some places it's just uncalled for.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''what i've done'' by linkin park

1 note · View note

albatris · 4 years ago

Note

Hey hello I sent in an anon about starting tarot a while ago (I do not know when I know it was post quarantine starting but...time is wild) and i was wondering if you answered it? This isn't at all me trying to pressure you please please don't read it that way, i totally get it if you didn't! I just know that tumblr's search function is very broke and I'm scared I missed your answer, which would be sad. (I hope this doesn't sound like a bother it's genuinely all good if not I'm just checking!)

YES oh my gosh holy shit hello hi yes hi anon my dear I did in fact completely fucking forget to actually answer your original ask I am so sorry lmao

thank you for reminding me ajhdfgjhsdfg and again I’m so sorry it took me forever anyway I’m gonna just uhhhh look up your original ask real quick

OKAY so resources and starting decks! there are lots and lots of people who know more than me so I feel a little unqualified to answer this but I can tell you my thoughts?? but I definitely recommend looking into what other folks have to say on starting out, I’m sure there are lots of different opinions and ideas! :D

also sorry, it’s me you’re asking, so you’re not gonna get nice neat dot points and I’m not great at being concise, I’m just going to ramble if that’s ok, very sorry, very sorry

under the cut rambles

so........................

for learning meanings........ it’s a lot of work, there’s a lot of detail and a lot of different things to think about during readings, I’ve been learning tarot for around seven years on and off and I still don’t remember everything!

so IMO it’s best not to come at tarot with the intent to Learn Everything before you start! it’s the perfect thing to learn as you go! my advice would be to just kinda throw yourself in. when you first get a deck, go through the cards and vibe with them some and look at their meanings, but mostly just kinda contemplate them, don’t try to memorise everything at once. start doing readings, look stuff up as you go............. I would recommend keeping a journal where you document your readings............ which will help you with memory and picking up on patterns and connections....... uhhhh

I really like using apps as a companion as well! they can be a super good resource even if you don’t want to use them FOR readings necessarily

I use Galaxy Tarot as a convenient way to look up meanings and summaries of the cards when I just need to kinda jog my memory (though the descriptions aren’t super detailed), and it has a function where you can either do a reading with the app or you can do a reading yourself and then plug the cards you’ve drawn into the app, and it can help you with pointing out recurring themes and symbols and connections between the cards, which can be handy when you’re first starting out and maybe feel a little overwhelmed by the Amount Of Information you’re trying to take in

uhhhh another one I’ve used in the past is Labyrinthos Tarot, which is an app to help you learn and memorise the cards and their meanings., from what I can remember there are sorta, games and exercises to help with it, I forget exactly how it works since it’s been a while since I used it! but maybe that’s a good one to check out too?

I feel like apps is something i should’ve mentioned at the end but anyway moving on to the rest of it

most decks will come with a guidebook of some sort! so you’ve got the traditional rider waite tarot deck (which is probably the default deck most people think of when they think of tarot), and there are plenty of resources online such as Biddy Tarot which can give you a fairly detailed rundown of the card meanings! these meanings can be applied to variations of the rider waite cards, but lots of decks are a little wild and a little funky and are off doing their own thing while still following the basic rider waite structure, and if you receive a guidebook with a deck, that’s definitely an invaluable resource!! ‘cause it’ll give you the artist’s kinda interpretation and their meanings, their own personal touch, even if you then look up the card in more detail online

ALSO tarot is just a whole fuckin tonne about intuition as well though! so as much as it can feel like something where you need to focus on all the details and try and keep them all rigid and by-the-book, you might do a reading and feel yourself drawn in a certain different direction or just get a “feeling”, so you should definitely be open and flexible and listen to what your gut tells you as far as meanings go! plus, you will develop your own relationship to the cards and maybe draw your own personal meanings and associations! that’s definitely not something to fight against and don’t worry about whether that means you’re doing it “wrong” - you should listen to those feelings, those r important!! :D

lastly I will say, it can be helpful to have someone who is more experienced with tarot around who you feel you can ask for advice from or get second opinions from if there’s something you’re confused about! or who can give you tips and tricks from firsthand experience. like, it doesn’t have to be something you learn alone, and having a teacher or companion can be really helpful in terms of bouncing ideas and getting new perspectives! I throw this out there because I always forget to say things like this, ‘cause I forget that other people Are Not Me and other people like being around people lmao rip

and as far as starting decks go........... it really depends so much on what you want and what’s important to you! some people will say start with the traditional rider waite tarot, and if you decide to do that, you will certainly have a lot of resources at your disposal! it’s a valid place to start for sure

but there’s also SO many different decks out there with all sorts of themes and art and personality, and IMO......... I’d kinda urge you in the direction of choosing something you’re personally interested in and engaged with! it can make connecting with a deck easier and can help you stay interested and engaged during learning! but that’s just me

when I got my first deck the lady in the store kinda just took me to the collection of decks and just asked me which ones I vibed with and which one kinda called out to me or one I was drawn to, then she let me take a look at some of them and she showed me how to handle them and use them!! this was my first experience, n I was told just to go with what Feels Good And Right

n there’s so much cool art out there! and many interesting themes! you might not know which one you’ll latch onto until you see it, so take some time to look around and see what speaks to you c:

for instance, certain themes like cats or flowers, certain art styles, maybe certain series you’re into (I have two welcome to night vale decks n the raven’s prophecy by maggie stiefvater), or queer friendly decks! I have the Numinous Tarot which I ADORE, which is a deck with gorgeous artwork and extremely queer, all gender neutral language and lots of diverse designs, etc

so it depends what you’re into! take some time to feel it out, my friend

I would also like to throw out a mention to oracle decks as well! I actually started with oracle decks long before I used any tarot decks c:

I am................... very tired. and blanking on the best way to explain the difference between oracle and tarot decks, but you can look into this if you’re interested! lots of people use both or use them in conjunction with each other and there’s benefits to both n so on and so forth........

but in terms of Starting Out, and getting comfy with doing readings? they can also be really helpful in this regard! I found since oracle decks can have any number of cards and are less “structured” than tarot decks in a way, it can be really helpful as a way to get comfortable with things if you find, just, the Amount Of Detail that is involved in tarot decks overwhelming!!

it was something that helped me get the ~feel~ of doing readings and sensing with the cards and vibin and such, n get some practice drawing connections between cards and deriving meanings from the stories the cards present! but in a way that’s not quite as...... overwhelming?? as traditional tarot decks?? I was SUPER intimidated by just how extensive tarot decks were when I first started and I thought I’d never figure out what I was doing HAHAHA

but again, it’s just practice, I think!

where tarot will follow the same 78 cards and structure and is very traditional and I guess “rigid” is not exactly the right word?? but yeah?? oracle decks are a lot more flexible in what they represent and a lot more loose in the structures they can take

I do love oracle decks because of how varied they are!! each one is its own little system and its own unique universe and it’s really quite lovely, even if you aren’t into Actually Doing Readings with them, y’know?

but then, I find tarot decks the same way, what will all the different art styles and different people’s interpretations and renditions of the same story, like, it’s really fascinating!!

this has just turned into me rambling about how cool they are now

point is, do a little research into what sorts of decks and themes you might like to buy, when you get a chance I thoroughly recommend visiting a store so you can speak to someone who has some experience with tarot decks, they can help guide you when it comes to picking one and giving you some tips!! remember that it’s about intuition and following your gut as much as it is about memory and precision, so you should pick a deck that Feels Right

and uhhhhhhhhhhh

just kinda throw yourself in!! that’s literally my best advice!! you’re never gonna memorise everything beforehand (I’ve been learning on and off for seven years and I still often have to consult guidebooks and webpages) but you WILL absolutely learn as you go

it might feel very clumsy starting out, but as with any craft, you will improve with practice and begin to feel more comfy and confident with it as you go!

I hope this helped out some!! maybe!! possibly!!!!! ok goodnight!!!

#Anonymous #important caveat is that ive kinda just #been vibin on my own for most of my learning so i feel like #maybe there will be things i do that are not necessarily the ''right'' way or the common way or i might be #a little inexperienced and all #but i think it's also very personal and you'll find a way of doing things that works for u #in other words I Have No Idea If I Sound Like A Complete Dumbass when i talk about tarot #HAHAHAHA #anyway ok i hope this maybe gave you........ something...........? to work with #again i am so sorry i dont know how to be concise honestly i could have probably explained this in like #3 paragraphs #i can only hope u were aware of my rambling tendencies before u sent this and knew what u were in for lmaoo

9 notes · View notes

lady-moonbroch · 5 years ago

Text

"Kuchinashi"

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Characters: Dazai Osamu x Fem. Reader

Word Count: 1550

"There is a question drifting in those big eyes of yours, little one", his gentle, soothing voice in contrast with his keen remark took her by surprise and left her looking at him in wonder.

She mulled over the question that's been burning on her tongue from the moment he sat down right next to her in the garden, their shoulders touching with the slightest movement they made. She gathered he did so purposefully, but she never really could discern his intentions, but she didn't mind, in fact, it enthralled her all the more.

She was fascinated by him long before she met him in person, his works being her favourite part of high school literature class. She knew about his life, the sadness that dominated it and she wanted to know more still but the man that sat so close by her side felt completely out of her hand's reach. His face was always as unreadable and rigid as a Noh mask, he wouldn't let anyone peek through to see what's truly beneath it. Still, she hoped that one day he would leave a small crack though that immovable plastered smile and finally let someone in. Let her in.

"Go on and ask what's on your mind, I will answer any question. See it as a token of appreciation for your lovely company this evening". His voice was smooth and soft like claret velvet, it brought a blush on her cheeks and drumming in her ribcage. She looked away from his penetrating gaze, in an attempt to muster enough courage to deliver her question.

"Do you believe in love, Dazai-sensei?", she looked up in his eyes when she heard a small breath getting caught in his throat. He was the one to look at her with bewilderment this time, while her eyes stayed fixed on his, unyielding and steadfast, making it clear she wouldn't back down without an answer. After a moment of silence, he chuckled softly, smiling with admiration at her boldness.

"Surely you ask the strangest of things, little bird. But as promised, I shall answer your question." His face turned serious, turning his eyes towards the silvery moon that hang in the sky above them. “This I want to believe implicitly: Man was born for love..”

"...and revolution" she cut him off softly, leaving him once more to glance at her with surprise before an elegant smile adorned his face anew. He assumed he would know of his work, considering she's from the land of the rising sun like him, but he didn't expect it to leave a subtle hint of both pride and sorrow in his chest.

"My, my, you are full of surprises tonight indeed" he said softly as he guided his hand over the contour of her cheek, his touch so featherlight and ethereal as if he handled something extremely delicate, made her question if he actually caressed her.

"Humans are curious creatures. No matter how many times love may break their hearts, they stand firm in their search of it just the same. We were born to love and to suffer as a consequence”. His hand trailed downwards to find her chin, cupping it gently, eyes fixed on her rosy lips and thumb tracing lightly over them. He stopped to look back into her eyes, those innocent doe-like eyes that quivered marginally in the wake of his touch. "And what a wonderful creature you are, little one" he thought as he studied her soft features.

"A gem cannot be polished without friction, nor a man perfected without trials"* she responded in a voice that gave away the excitement his touch caused her.

He smiled, eyes glazed over with dangerous fervor, whilst his thumb fondled the edge of her lips. His caress has set ablaze a yearning in her chest, a need to reach for his hand and kiss the back of it, each fingertip and knuckle with tenderness long deserved, but she was too lost in the brilliance of his irises to will herself to move.

His touch was poetry and she was a blank, delicate paper, a muse welcoming the artist to perform on her with his skilled hands.

Her skin felt like silk on the pad of his fingertips, and his lips felt the urge to worship it respectively. He heard her breath trembling in her throat and the urgency in him only increased.

"You should never leave yourself so vulnerable in front of men, my sweet girl. Or is it that you wish to be consumed?" he said almost whispering, as he leaned closer to her.

"D-Dazai-sen-" she tried calling his name but his lips came crushing on hers passionately, drawing every thought from her mind, all the air from her lungs and all her feelings towards the surface. He cupped the back of her head with his left hand and with his right hand he took hold of her hips, dragging her almost on his lap, whilst their kiss only grew more and more heated.

She was overwhelmed by his presence, the desire that flowed like a torrent from his lips made her body go limp in his embrace and she clutched herself on his shirt, holding for dear life.

Dazai deepened the kiss further, his tongue slithering past her lips to meet hers. The sounds of pleasure he drew from her only added fuel to the burning embers inside of him and led him to kiss the girl harder still. His hand glided deftly below her skirt to feel the soft skin of her thigh, coaxing soft, quiet moans that fell against his lips. He bit and tugged her bottom lip tenderly before peppering her jaw with featherlight kisses, traveling down towards her neck. His fangs grazed the skin of her neck, making the girl quiver and writhe beneath him.

"Ngh..ah...Dazai.." her soft melodic voice filled with wanton desire snapped him out of his daze. He pulled himself up and held her close to him in a tight embrace, his chest heaving in need for air after realizing what he was about to do. He nuzzled his face in her hair as she gently stroked his, sensing the unease he felt due to his near loss of self-control.

He pulled back to look at her, two pair of eyes looking at each other with deep yearning as they both panted for air.

"It is best to get some rest, we both have a long day tomorrow, Umeko-chan”.

Her eyes were wide with disbelief. His most peculiar quirk had left her more dumbfounded than ever. He looked back at her, like a child that was caught red-handed on his mischief.

"Have I gotten your name wrong yet again?" he asked remorsefully and gave her an apologetic smile when she nodded.

"Is this why you avoided to call me by my name all night?”

"Maybe.." he responded in a comical tone.

After looking at each other for a moment they both laughed mirthfully. Dazai reached and caressed her hair gently as he voiced his apology to her and she could not help but smile at his lightheartedness. He pressed his forehead to her for the briefest moment, placed a soft kiss on the edge of her lips and released her for his arms.

He stretched his hand towards her to help her stand, and escorted her back to her bedroom door.

"Goodnight, little one”

"Goodnight, Dazai.." She stood at her door and watched him stride towards his room, wanting to engrave his image in her mind more securely than before.

Although they said goodnight and both went to their chambers, she felt as if his presence lingered on the parts his fingertips touched her. She smiled to herself and let the reminiscence of his warm touch seep in her skin while her mind reconstructed a mental image of how he looked at her with gaze wanton and lips still wet from kissing her. She took off her shirt to inhale his scent that clung on her clothes, his sweet, mellow voice still ringing in her ears.

In his own room, Dazai sat on his bed and clasped his hands over his mouth, a grin tugging at his lips. Her scent, that sweet and tart smell of her hair and her skin combined, have stayed on his fingertips just as her taste remained on his tongue. She was truly exquisite and lovely, oh so lovely. Who knows what would have happened if he hadn't stopped himself. Would he even be able to halt his longing then?

"We'll have to find out some other time I suppose" he thought with a smirk.

The next morning she woke up from her deep, peaceful sleep, satisfied by her dreams that night. When she opened her eyes she noticed something on the ledge of her window and she slowly got off the bed to inspect the present left at her casement.

It was a small kuchinashi blossom. She smiled knowingly, her eyes filled with affection, for she recognized both the meaning behind the gift as well as the sender of the precious blossom.

Kuchinashi's blossoms have variant meanings in the language of flowers, but most commonly they mean "happiness", "purity" and "a love hidden in the heart". _______________________________________

The quote is from Osamu Dazai's work, - The Setting Sun * Japanese proverb

#ikemen vampire #ikevam dazai #ikevamp #fanfic #dazai osamu #otome game #cybrid #ikevam #have some Dazai hanky-panky #because why not

135 notes · View notes

torestoreamends · 5 years ago

Text

Sonnet 29: A Drastoria Fic

1.5k words, G rated

On a sunny spring afternoon, Draco and Astoria discuss Scorpius’s education, and Draco recites a sonnet.

Inspired by this video of James Howard.

Read it on AO3

It’s a blazing spring day. The sun smiles down out of the cerulean sky, and the rose garden is in its brightest bloom. Draco and Astoria stroll hand in hand among the vibrant flowers, Scorpius running ahead of them, shouting about butterflies and bees and his favourite roses.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had that much energy in my life,” Astoria says, as Scorpius darts from bush to bush, barely pausing for a second.

“He certainly exhausts me. I can’t imagine what it’s like for you.”

“Oh, it’s wonderful. Just... overwhelming. I wish I could keep up.”

Draco squeezes her hand. “Me too.”

Astoria watches for a moment as Scorpius stoops down to inspect a daisy in the grass. “We still haven’t decided what we’re doing about school, have we?”

Draco glances at her, but she’s inscrutable. “No, I suppose we haven’t. I assume you have some thoughts?”

“Daphne’s sending her children to a local Muggle school. For a general education, of course. They learn all sorts. Reading and writing, music, geography, Muggle history, even Muggle science. It sounds quite fascinating.”

Draco sniffs. “I’m sure it is...”

“You don’t approve.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” Astoria shoots him a little smile, and he rolls his eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t approve... I’m just not sure I like the idea of Scorpius being exposed to-“

“This is going to be a dangerous statement.”

Draco lets go of Astoria’s hand and pokes her gently in the side. “No, it’s not. Be quiet and listen to your husband for a moment.”

“I’ll shut up and let you dig yourself a hole. Go on.” She presses a finger to her lips.

“I’m not digging!”

She raises her eyebrows at him and doesn’t say anything.

He sighs. “All I’m trying to say is that... I don’t like the idea of Scorpius being exposed to a substandard education. Which by no account means that all Muggle education is substandard. On the contrary, I’m sure it’s excellent. But I do read those newspapers you leave lying around, Astoria. Those politicians meddling with Muggle education... It all seems terribly inconsistent, changeable as the wind, and the exams... Imagine taking a curious child like Scorpius and crushing all the joy out of him with all those exams. That’s what I’d be worried about. I mean look at him.”

They both fall silent and watch Scorpius. His attention is focused on one particular flower. When he realises his parents are watching him, he looks up and grins at them.

“There’s a bee!” He points at the flower and peels the petals back, twisting the stem to show them. “Look!”

“He loves the world,” Draco murmurs. “He loves learning. I don’t want him to lose that.”

Astoria twines her fingers with his and leans into him, turning to look up at his face. “That’s not the answer I expected you to give. I’m sorry.”

Draco lifts her hand up and kisses it. “I haven’t earned the benefit of the doubt, don’t worry. It’s something I’m working on.”

“No, you earn it every day. I just forget sometimes.”

Draco bows his head to hide what he’s worried might be a blush. “Anyway... Neither of us went to formal school before Hogwarts and we turned out alright. Eventually.”

“We did. But I think it would be nice for him to meet other children and make some friends. Muggle education experts say social development is very important.”

“We could take him to visit his cousins more often. I like Daphne. She has an excellent wine cellar.”

Astoria snorts and digs her elbow into his ribs. “What’s wrong with our wine cellar?”

“It’s much more fun to drink someone else’s expensive wine. Drinking one’s own can be somewhat painful. In fact, that’s something we could teach Scorpius during his home education.”

“We could... train him to be the world’s youngest Master Sommelier?”

“No. We could teach him the value of graciously accepting other people’s hospitality. Social education, just like your Muggle experts suggest.”

“Somehow, I’m not sure that’s quite what they were thinking of...” She links her arm with his and they set off walking in pursuit of Scorpius, who’s disappearing down the lawn in the distance. “What else would you teach our son, if he were to be educated at home?”

“History, obviously. Languages; we could even start him off with some basic runes. Literature — all the classics.”

“Are we including Muggle classics in this?”

“Such as?”

“Austen. Brontë.”

Draco wrinkles his nose. “Romance novels?”

Astoria pokes him in the side. “What would you have picked?”

“Shakespeare.”

“Says the man who was disparaging romances.”

“At least Shakespeare also wrote a great many tragedies, and history plays.”

“And sonnets, some of the most beautiful romantic poetry ever written.”

Up ahead, Scorpius starts running back towards them, waving his hands in excitement about something.

“Some of the sonnets may be relatable...” Draco admits.

Astoria grins and squeezes his arm. “Such as?”

“Such as... Sonnet 29.” Draco releases Astoria so he can turn to face her properly. He clears his throat. “‘When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes; I all alone beweep my outcast state; And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries; And look upon myself and curse my fate; Desiring this-’ Hang on, that’s wrong. I don’t think I can remember it...”

Astoria smiles. “You skipped a couple of lines. ‘Wishing me like to one more rich in hope; Featured like him-’”

Draco nods and starts reciting again, speaking along with Astoria. “‘Like him with friends possessed; Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope; With what I most enjoy contented least-’”

“Mummy, Daddy!” Scorpius bounces up to them, waving something in his hand. Astoria puts a finger to her lips and scoops him up into her arms.

“Sshh, Daddy’s reciting a poem for us.”

Scorpius twists round and stares at Draco, wide-eyed, as Draco continues, trying not to be tripped up by the fact that his audience has suddenly doubled in size.

“‘Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising; Haply I think on thee.’” He reaches out and taps Scorpius on the nose. Scorpius giggles and goes cross-eyed as he follows Draco’s finger. When Draco pulls hand back, he clamps his own hand over his nose, still grinning. Draco smiles as he carries on.

“‘And then my state, (Like to the lark at break of day arising from sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate; For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings; That then I scorn to change my state with kings.’”

When Draco finishes, Astoria taps her fingers on Scorpius’s back in applause, and Scorpius cheers. Draco gives them a small bow.

“Thank you, thank you. I’m stunned I remembered that.”

“It was pretty,” Scorpius says. “What‘s it mean?”

“It’s about love,” Draco replies, shooting Astoria a smile. “And hardship. And redemption, I suppose. Very relatable.”

“It was written by Shakespeare.” Astoria brushes her fingers through Scorpius’s hair. “He was a famous writer. Your daddy and I might be going to teach you about him, along with lots of other things, so you’ll know lots and lots before you go to Hogwarts.”

“Oh...” Scorpius breathes in wonder. “I want to learn about everything.”

“Exactly.” Astoria kisses him on the forehead. “Now, what did you want to show us?”

Scorpius waves his hands down the garden. “There’s an amazing flower! I don’t know what it is. You need to tell me. I’ll show you.” He wriggles his way out of Astoria’s arms and tears away across the grass.

Astoria sighs and wraps an arm round Draco. “I don’t think you could constrain that in a classroom even if you tried...”

Draco shakes his head. “No. I’d pity the poor teacher that had to try. Although I suppose that’ll be us...”

Astoria laughs. “You might come to regret trying to home school him.”

“I don’t think so. I don’t think I could ever regret anything when it comes to him.”

Astoria leans her head briefly on his shoulder. “You should consider reciting sonnets more often, you know. I could get used to it. You have a nice voice for them.”

Draco gives her a squeeze. “For you, I could consider becoming a hopeless romantic.”

“Shame, I thought you already were.”

Draco laughs. “We’ll see. Now, I suppose we should hurry up and find out what our adorable bundle of exhaustion wants to show us.”

“I bet it’s not a flower. I bet it’s another toadstool.”

“Basic Herbology. We should add that to the list of things to teach him.”

“Definitely... He has the whole world to explore.”

“But the best people to show it to him, even if I do say so myself.”

“Mmm.” Astoria pauses in her stride so she can lean up and kiss him. “Even if you do say so yourself.”

They wrap their arms around each other and fall into an awkward, lopsided stride as they wander happily through the sun drenched rose garden, following the sound of Scorpius’s distant laughter.

#Draco Malfoy #Astoria Malfoy #Scorpius Malfoy #Drastoria #Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Fic #Cursed Child Fic #HPCC Fic #Cursed Child #Harry Potter and the Cursed Child #Malfoy family feels #My writing #Keep The Secrets #James had to pick the most Draco sonnet didn't he?#Of course he did #Actual Draco Malfoy #(Also writing baby Scorpius is my favourite)#(What a bundle of joy he is)

10 notes · View notes

moyochu · 6 years ago

Text

my euphoria | jjk

summary: when jeongguk forgets it’s mother’s day and your flower shop is the only one nearby that has his mom’s favorite flower, but oh shit it’s 4:45 and your shop closes at 5:00 and there’s rush hour traffic and so many dumb obstacles and now he’s in panting in front of your store at 5:02 while hopping on one foot and oh shit oh shit he didn’t expect an angel to step out

[fake dating au ; ceo jjk x florist oc]

pairing: jeongguk + female reader

word count: 7.6k

genre: fluff, fluff, fluff

“Shit, shit, shit!”

How can I let myself forget today’s Mother’s day? Jeongguk curses at himself, anxiously wondering as he paces the corridor back and forth, trying to make calls to all nearby florists. Yet with each unpromising call, Jeongguk starts losing hope-- none of them hold the flower that makes his mother the happiest.

But his assistant, Jimin, has yet to stray from his determined traits. That’s the main reason Jeongguk hired him: Jimin is dedicated and willing to go to any and all necessary lengths in order to accomplish his goals. In fact, here he is, practically working overtime--which Jeongguk always pays an overwhelming amount in gratitude-- just to help his boss find some flowers. Said assistant is also currently searching, typing rapidly on his laptop, tongue sticking out ever so slightly. But after the millionth disappointing call, Jeongguk claps his hand on Jimin’s shoulder, about to dejectedly call it a day and tell Jimin to go home when Jimin interrupts his negative train of thought. He shouts excitedly, “Wait, Mr. Jeon! I think I found a place!”

Jeongguk feels hope surge through him, maybe he can get the flowers after all! He squints at Jimin’s screen, eyes scanning the name Zahra. He knows it isn’t a word of any of the six languages he knows, so he assumes maybe it’s the name of the store owner. As he continues reading with Jimin, Jimin reads out loud, “It’s a nine minute drive from here... and it closes at five on Sunday’s.”

Both men’s eyes shoot towards the bottom right corner, eyes bulging at the time. Jimin shuts his computer hastily and shouts, “It’s 4:45! Go, Mr. Jeon! I’ll bring your stuff over to your apartment! Go!”

In a series of quick motions, Jeongguk shoots his assistant a grateful look before dashing out of the building. Hopping into his car and swiftly reversing out of his reserved parking spot, Jeongguk is ready to speed his way to this flower shop.

What he doesn’t expect, happens: traffic right before he can turn into the parking lot of the store. Jeongguk swears he doesn’t have road rage, but he suddenly hits his head on the steering wheel, letting it honk a few times, before groaning when he sees the time: 4:58. There’s no way he’s going to make it on time. The cars ahead of him are slowly moving forward, but he knows there’s no point.

As Jeongguk lifts his head away from the steerwheel, his eyes catch sight of an empty spot on the side of the road with just the right amount of space for his car. Acting like he doesn’t notice the sign that obviously spells out in big black letters, “NO PARKING,” he parallel parks into the spot. Within seconds, Jeongguk is out the door, sprinting in his black suit and tie, probably looking like a complete wacko to everyone who can see his hair flopping past them. His legs sting, but he can’t let that get to him. He sees your store, quaint and cute as it is, he cannot allow himself to admire it as he rushes to the front door, I made it-- I can’t believe I made it.

And then Jeongguk tries opening the door.

Locked.

He checks his watch only to see the numbers 5:02 laughing at him. Overwhelmingly upset, Jeongguk, CEO of the biggest bank in the entire country, kicks the ground in petty anger.

He did not see the red brick waiting for him to stupidly make contact with it.

“Fuck!” Jeongguk whimpers as he hops on one foot, the other in his hands. He groans, muttering a series of profanity over and over again. But he can’t pay attention to his hurt foot for long, because suddenly the front door of the shop opens, the sound of the creaking door flowing through Jeongguk’s ears like doves singing the way to Heaven.

He didn’t expect an angel to step out.

You hummed a tune that’s been stuck in your head all day, not having noticed the suit-clad man holding his foot in his hands, until you look up as you, eyes widening slightly as you take in the situation. You pull the trash bag out of your store, staring curiously. Jeongguk opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out as you continue to stare at him, waiting for any type of a explanation. But he stays speechless-- lost in thought. He’s never seen someone look so soft. Every movement you make has Jeongguk pulled in, his foot momentarily forgotten. His heart especially quickens when you move a piece of hair behind your ear and give a polite smile before putting the trash bag you were carrying next to the door. You were about to walk back in the shop when Jeongguk finally gets himself to talk, “Wait!”

Pausing, you raise an eyebrow. You wait for him to continue as Jeongguk stutters, “I-I know you’re closed, but you’re the only store I could find that sold my mother’s favorite flower. I’m supposed to meet her today, and it completely ran over my head that today is Mother’s Day, and now I don’t have anything to give her. But those flowers would make her the happiest. Would you please open the store for just ten more minutes? I-I’ll play extra!”

Jeongguk finally finishes his rambling, suddenly self-conscious in front of your wide eyes. Your look of surprise morphs into amusement as you chuckle about God knows what. As Jeongguk waits for you to respond, he scratches the back of his head nervously, concluding maybe you thought he was dumb and starts plotting how to slowly crawl into a hole and never see the light of day ever again.

After what seems like hours later, you respond with an even softer smile than before, and Jeongguk’s shoulders slowly drop as your presence simply makes him melt for some reason. Flashing your pearls, you open your door slightly before saying, “You know all you had to do was knock on the door, and I would have opened it. It’s only--” Jeongguk feels heat rush to his face as you look at the watch on your wrist before continuing, “Three minutes after closing.”

Assuming you embarrassed the man, you don’t wait for him to give a response. You hold the door open, signalling for him to come in and Jeongguk quickly follows, the smell of all the different flowers instantly hitting him. As he looks around, he sees that every type of flower is sectioned off by color, the organization leaving customers with a feeling of satisfaction.

In between admiring the interior, he follows your back, attentive to the way your hair curls against your ears. You turn around abruptly, making Jeongguk pay attention to the matter at hand, his insides feeling tingly when you throw a smirk his way. “So what is this flower you are dying to get your hands on?”

Clearing his throat, Jeongguk says, “A chocolate cosmo.”

You nod slightly, turning around to walk towards the deep reds, “Your mother has good taste. Do you want just the chocolate cosmos or would you like to pair it with other flowers?”

Jeongguk didn’t think that far ahead, the chocolate cosmo being the main task at hand. So he shrugs, “What do you think I should do?”

Walking towards the whites, you look at Jeongguk and suggest, “Customers usually pair cosmos with white roses. It’s not really a stand-alone type flower.”

But before you grab some white roses, Jeongguk interrupts you. “But what do you think I should pair it with?”

Surprise passes through your face as you chuckle, the sound instantly making Jeongguk give an iconic bunny smile. You make your way around the counter, Jeongguk following. “Well, tell me what your mother is like, and I’ll tell you what I’d pick.”

And tell you is what Jeongguk does. His eyes light up as his words seem to run off his mouth so effortlessly, “She’s a strong, but gentle woman. She likes living her life without a care about how she looks. Like, she’ll often dress for spring with fall clothes! Even if they make her hot because fall is her favorite season. Her love trumps everything else. Therefore, she practically lives in fall colors and attire. She’s always positive no matter what....she’s never afraid to be bold and adventure outside of her comfort zone.” Jeongguk takes in a shaky breath, “She’s amazing.”

Your heart swells at the amount of love Jeongguk appears to have for his mother, the smile that appears on your face being an exact result of that. While Jeongguk went on his spiel, you had been picking flowers that went with his characterization of his mother, gathering them at the counter Jeongguk stood at, fist holding his chin up with a gentle smile.

While you get your supplies out, you explain your plan for the bouquet and motives for it, “So while hearing you talk about your mother, I picked up on a few vibes; I chose a couple of different flowers we can mix around.” You look up from your actions to gauge his reaction. Jeongguk nodded silently, lost in thought as he continues to stare at you. You take that as a sign to continue, grabbing your scissors. “In addition to the cosmos, I grabbed orange roses, because they come with the meaning of an energetic fascination, which are vibes I totally get from your mother. Plus, orange roses are tragically underrated.” You smirk when you hear a chuckle from Jeongguk. “I also picked up sunflowers for loyalty and longevity…” You say as you start fixing them together.

You don’t notice Jeongguk staring at your lips as you go on, “...dahlia’s for symbol of a commitment and bond that lasts forever, calla lilies for faithfulness, apricot roses for enthusiasm, and finally, billy balls for good health.” Jeongguk’s smile falters at the last bit of your words, but you do not notice, busy wrapping the flowers up.

When you look up, he’s grinning again while staring at you, more so than the flowers, and confidently declares, “This is one of the most beautiful bouquets I’ve ever seen. Thank you.”

You lower your head bashfully as you softly state the price, ringing him up. With a wave of your hand, you deny Jeongguk’s statement, “Nah. It’s just because it was chosen based on your mother’s personality. It feels more special that way.”

Jeongguk wants to argue back, but you don’t leave room for retaliation. “I really hope she likes them,” you say while handing him the flowers. You wipe your hands on your apron before pulling it off. Your eyes twinkle as you hang up your apron, “She’s lucky to have a son like you.”

Biting his lip to hide the grin that was about to surface, Jeongguk decided to opt out of responding to that comment. Instead, he says, “I’ll let you know how she likes them.”

Your eyebrows raise at that. You thought it would be the last time you’d see him. Crossing your arms against your chest you question, “Oh? You’re telling me I’m going to see you again?”

Chuckling, Jeongguk makes his way to the door, “You’re my favorite florist now. Plus, it’s a bonus that you’re really cute.” You didn’t expect that last bit, and honestly neither did Jeongguk. He tries to play it casually, while you become flustered, attempting not the blush, but your rosy cheeks were most definitely apparent. It didn’t help Jeongguk’s lowkey-beginning-of-a-crush case that your cheeks especially popped in front of the pinks and purple behind you.

Breathtaking, was the only word Jeongguk could think of as he watched you shake your head before picking up your bag. He falters in his steps, looking as if he doesn’t want the conversation to end. You raise your eyebrow as to say, “What now?” and he responds, “You told me the meaning behind every flower, except for the chocolate cosmos.”

He catches you taking a deep breath before answering the question he wants to ask, “Well, it was once said to mean, ‘I love you more than anyone can.’” You watch Jeongguk’s reaction and you thought your eyes must have been deceiving you when you saw Jeongguk blushing, so you concluded it had to be just the abundant of flowers surrounding the two of you. Jeongguk doesn’t comprehend what is going on with himself either, so he concludes he must be getting high on the overpowering smell of flowers.

Yeah, that’s the reason.

You finally bid him adieu, letting him toss you a cheeky smile and a wave. You finally take a moment to check the time, and when your stare at the numbers, it’s only then you remember your plans. Damn! I forgot about my date! You quickly grab your belongings, getting ready to lock up when you see a card turned over on the counter Jeongguk had been standing at. You picked it up, the corners of your mouth twitching as you read the contents of the card. When did he even write this?

Thank you for keeping your store open for me. It meant a lot. Call me if you ever need anything. I’m at your disposal. :,) -- Jeongguk

You muttered the name softly as you brushed over it, wondering if he took notice of your name attached to your shirt. Shaking your head, you told yourself to stop lingering too long. You send a text to your date, apologizing for being late and that you were on your way.

“Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!” Jeongguk giddly calls out as he shuts the door with this foot. The bright white always glares back and he hates it, hates it all, but keeps positive for his mother.

“Jeongguk? Is that you, my love?” Jeongguk watches the back of his mother as she finishes up painting the last bit, before setting her materials aside. She turns around to see her beloved son holding the most beautiful bouquet she has ever seen, and are those chocolate cosmos?

His mother coos, covering her mouth with her hands, looking as if she wants to get up from her seat to greet him, but Jeongguk quickly makes his way over, “I’ll come to you, Mom.”

She accepts them graciously, her eyes automatically closing as she takes in the scent of the flowers. “These are so beautiful, Jeongguk. Especially the cosmos. Thank you.”

Jeongguk nods, eyes twinkling, as he brushes his mother’s hair out of her eyes. He notices the dark circles underneath them, causing him to frown. “You haven’t been sleeping have you?” And before his mother can interject, he is already calling out for a doctor, “We should tell the doctors, nur--!”

With a touch of her hand, Jeongguk’s mother shakes her head at him, “No, Jeongguk. I’m fine and my sleeping is normal. Trust me. I know what I can handle.”

Battling stage four leukemia, Jeongguk’s mother knows which wars are worth it and which are a waste of time and effort. She only bites what she can chew and she always does it with a grin. “Tell me about your day, honey. You are better than any medicine.”

The concerned expression on Jeongguk’s face softens at that-- he should be there more for his mother. She pats the seat next to him, motioning for him to sit down. She waits for him to start and so he does, “Well, I met a woman today.”

His mother’s eyebrows raise at that, “Oh? Finally?”

Jeongguk almost swats his mother’s hands that were trying to pinch his cheeks, but it makes her laugh, so he lets her pinch them, even though it makes him feel like a little kid. Scratching the back of his neck, he absentmindedly stares at the flowers in his mother’s hand. “Yeah… she’s the owner of the flower shop I went to for your flowers.”

Sitting criss cross on the hospital bed, his mother places her hand underneath her chin, urging him to continue. Pink sprouts on Jeongguk’s cheeks as he thinks about you, and it definitely doesn’t pass by his mother. “Mom… I’m going to be honest here. Don’t get mad at me, okay?”

She shrugs and Jeongguk takes it as a sign to continue. “When I was younger, I remember when dad used to say you were the most beautiful woman in the world, and... I thought surely he did not think that. There’s always someone who is going to be smarter, funnier, prettier than you, you know?”

Nodding his mother agrees, “True. What about it?”

“Well...mom, I think I just met the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“Are you pregnant?”

Your date chokes on his salad at your question, coughing as he grabs his water. He takes a sip, looking at you like you were crazy. You simply chuckle as he asks, in the midst of hacking, “W-What?”

Shoving a piece of steak in your mouth, you stare at him innocently. “It’s Mother’s Day and you asked me out on a date. I sure as hell ain’t pregnant nor am I a mother, so I’m assuming you are?”

Dabbing his mouth with a napkin, he presses his mouth in a tight line, “Right.”

You wanted to inwardly groan at response. The only reason why you said something as unrealistic and stupid like that was to bring some humor to this dull date. Since you’ve sat down, he’s been nothing but serious. To start, he judged you for getting steak, because apparently he was one of those vegetarians, which to begin with, you didn’t even know that fact about him until he outwardly glared at you when you recited your order to the waiter.

And now you just wanted to joke around, but he takes all of them too seriously. Sure, what you said may have been surprising and ridiculous, but does laughing-- even an awkward one-- really hurt him? Immediate turn off.

The lengthy night finally ends as you two say your goodbyes with zero intentions of meeting each other ever again. Once you make your way home, you take your heels off, the feeling of your feet finally coming back to you. You decide at that moment, you were never purchasing heels from Forever 21 ever again.

You brush your hair with your fingers, wandering into the kitchen for a drink. Your cell phone starts ringing and you groan for what seems like the fifteenth time today. You run to your bag you had thrown on the floor, struggling to get it out of your purse before it stops ringing. When your hands finally grab it, you answer it without checking the name, “Hello?”

“What? No happy Mother’s Day for your mother?”

Another groan. You should have checked who was calling before accepting the call. You sarcastically reply, “Oh! Happy Mother’s Day, Mom! My apologies. I forgot to send a gift over after you made fun of me the year before for my choice!”

You can see your stepmom’s eyes rolling as she talks through clenched teeth, “Watch your tone, young lady. Or else I’ll tell your father.”

Scoffing, you are ready to end the call, “How old do you think I am, Soomin? You make me have second-hand embarrassment for you. What do you want from me? Unless you simply called me to mock me?”

You’ve made it back to the kitchen, always needing to chug down some drink whenever you have conversations with your stepmother. You tap on your counter as you wait for her to tell you the reason she felt the need to ruin your night even more, “Well? I’m waiting.”

“Honey,” your eyebrows furrowed at the name. You hear a door close, which leads you to assume she walked away from your dad, before spitting out, “Your father wants to see you at the family dinner next Saturday. He’s worried about you. I mean? Can you blame him? Dumb job, small apartment, no husband...let alone a boyfriend. You really can’t hold a man for the life of you, huh?”

You usually don’t let your Soomin’s words affect you, but that last one one stung, allowing hot, white fury to blur your eyes. She knows of your past experience with relationships and she knows how much you hate talking about it. You clenched your teeth, trying not to let her hear it affecting you.

“What? Have nothing to say?” You can feel her smirk through the phone and you hate it, hate it all.

You are about to just angrily end the call, but you don’t want her to win. That’s when an idea pops into your head.

“Actually, I have a boyfriend,” you blurt out without thinking it as thoroughly as you should have.

But for a moment, you are glad you did as your stepmom pauses. “W-Wait, what? No you don’t.”

You nod vigorously, as if she can see you. “Yup. I do! His name is Jeongguk and he’ll be there with me on Saturday. See you then.”

Ending the call, you throw your phone on the counter, not caring if it breaks. You slide down, letting your back hit the refrigerator as you hold your head in your hands. Fuck.

After hitting your head a couple of times for doing something so impulsive just to prove yourself, you pace your kitchen with your phone and Jeongguk’s business card in your hand. As you try to think of what to say, you shakily insert the phone number on the card that read BANK OF JEON. Your eyebrows scrunch up at that, does he work at a bank or something?

Deciding to just press call and wing it, you anxiously bite your lips as you let it ring. You’re about to end the call, your nervousness clouding your judgment when you hear a, “Hello?”

“J-Jeongguk!” You exclaim, before clearing your throat. “It’s me, Y/N. The owner of Zahra?”

Jeongguk almost dropped his phone when he heard your nervous voice flows through his ears. You were the last person he expected to be calling him, or even at all. “Y/N! I didn’t expect you to call so fast.”

You chuckle nervously, brushing your hair behind your ear, “Yeah...I’m sorry about that. I didn’t expect so either.”

The anxiousness was strong in your tone, and it confused Jeongguk. That was not the front you showcased earlier that afternoon when he came running towards your shop. And so before he could stop the words from toppling out of his mouth, he blurts, “No! Don’t apologize. I’m glad you did.”

There is an awkward pause, neither of you saying anything, and all Jeongguk wants to do is bang his head against a wall. Why did he say that? Your voice picks up again ever so lightly, Jeongguk wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t sucking in a breath in panic. “I wanted to cash in that favor you wrote about on your business card.”

Jeongguk’s lips curved upwards as he chuckled, “Oh? This soon? What do you need?”

You squeeze your eyes tight before rapidly shooting out, “I need you to be my boyfriend.”

What sounded like water spurting out of a mouth was all you could hear from your phone speaker as you quickly clarified, “Fake boyfriend! I need you to be my fake boyfriend!”

“Y/N?” you hear Jeongguk ask in a concerned, but seemingly giddy voice. Seemingly.

You’ve resorted to biting your nails as you chant in your head, stupid, stupid, stupid. “Yes?”

“Can you explain what’s going on? I’m just a tad bit confused.” In this moment, you thanked God you were miles away from each other and not face to face. You don’t know how you would cope if he was in front of you.

Inhaling, you give out a shaky chuckle, “Yeah! I’m sorry for saying it like that. Honestly, I’ve been freaking myself out about calling you.”

A couple of miles away, in the penthouse suite of one of the fanciest apartment complexes in town, Jeongguk is in his silk pajamas, kicking the pillow in front of him giddly, as he contorts his body in excitement. He can just imagine the rosy flush of your cheeks and those dainty fingers brushing your curls behind your ear. You’re so cute, and Jeongguk just can’t help feeling the butterflies swarming around the bouquets you made in his stomach. The tingly feeling embracing him gently, one he simply cannot remember last when felt this excited for something so new and adorable.

He eventually composes himself, realizing he shouldn’t take a liking in you so quickly. He, quite frankly, barely knows who you are. Yet, here you are asking for him to be your fake boyfriend, and he’s having a parade day about it. Now he can’t help but feel so bubbly-- like a little kid-- at this new forming...companionship? Clearing his throat, he bites his lip to stop another smile from spreading his face, “Why are you nervous? What’s this boyfriend thing about?”

And you ramble on, similar to how Jeongguk bombarded you at your shop, “My family basically thinks I’m a low-life with nothing promising to offer. Which I get, I live a pretty bland life, I guess. And so my stepmom kept pushing my buttons, saying some nasty things about...my lack of a romantic life, and I, hurt and wanting to prove myself, ended up somehow blurting out that you were my boyfriend! And I know I don’t need a man to prove myself, but it’s more than that. I just want my stepmom to lose for once. Funny right? So here I am, interrupting your night, asking you to be my fake boyfriend for a night on Saturday, even though I don’t even know if you’re free that day, and this is abs--!”

“Y/N?”

You cough, your throat feeling dry. The heat from your cheeks staying put since your conversation with your stepmom. Anger and embarrassment: you chronically wear those two emotions very well. Finally, you squeak out, “Yes, Jeongguk?”

“I would love to be your fake boyfriend. And no offence, but your stepmom sounds like a bitch.”

All the weight slides off your shoulders, as you gratefully smile at that, “Yeah she is. But really? You would do that for me?”

Jeongguk jokingly scoffs, “Do you not take me to be a man of my words, Y/N?”

You wildly shake your head no, before realizing he cannot see you. You stutter out, “N-No! I definitely think you are. It’s just a ridiculous favor; we barely know each other. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you called me crazy and blocked my number. So thank you. I don’t think you know how much this means to me.”

The feeling in Jeongguk’s chest never ceases. He feels like he’s on a high for simply being able to make you happy. “No problem, Y/N. Get some rest. It’s getting late. I’ll text or call you tomorrow and you can run me through everything. Trust me, I’ll be an amazing boyfriend, babe.”

The laugh that comes out is free and genuine, no longer laced with nerves. “I don’t doubt it.”

Right before you can say your farewell, Jeongguk continues, “Oh and Y/N? I don’t think you’re a low-life. In just the brief moments I’ve known you, I can tell you are amazing, strong woman. You deserve respect.”

The call ends as you stare at your phone in shock. The soft smile on your face was the cause of the fact that that was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to you, and now, all you needed to do was gain confidence in yourself.

You put your phone down, staring at the card once more, your heart skips a beat.

“How long have we been dating?”

“Five months.”

“How did we meet?”

“Blind date set up by our mutual friends.”

“What’s my favorite food?”

“Pizza. Cold and hot. It doesn’t matter-- pizza is pizza.”

“Who loves corny jokes?”

“You.”

You pause at that, smacking Jeongguk’s arm as he snickers, “My aunt, Jeongguk!”

“I prefer babe,” Jeongguk emphasis with the wiggling of his eyebrows. You scoff, but there’s a smile threatening to break out as you stare out the window, but the nerves in your mind overcloud the mushy feeling in your stomach.

As you psych yourself out, you feel Jeongguk’s hand slowly interlock with yours, squeezing it ever so lightly. You look up to see Jeongguk with eyes on the road, but with the slightest smile. He doesn’t like driving with only one hand, but he knew you needed reassurance.

Plus, he might have really wanted to hold your hand.

The scenery passing by reminds you of how quickly time passed between the two of you. It’s already Saturday night and you and Jeongguk are on your way to meet your family. In the span of a week, you and Jeongguk met up three times, not including the many texts and memes you two shared. First, at a cafe as you explained to him the history of your family and why exactly you were doing this-- he only interjected with uplifting curses when you ranted about certain people in your stories and paid his full attention on you no matter how dramatic you thought someone would think you were sounding. He made you feel special. The second time you guys met, you plotted out the details of your relationship, emphasizing the fact that this was all fake, even though you started becoming comfortable. That made you feel uneasy. The third time you met… it wasn’t necessary. Jeongguk had called you and asked you to go out for karaoke with him; his reasoning was so you two can be comfortable around each other, “or our relationship won’t be seem real!” With a roll of your eyes, you joined him. It was a evening full of serenading, longing, and unwanted crushing.

Needless to say, it was one of the best nights of your life. And to wrap the night up, Jeongguk left you with a soft kiss on your forehead and a tingly feeling in your stomach.

This was dangerous and you knew it. You don’t know if you can handle another relationship. These were all just emotions-- romantic desires, if you will. You haven’t had some action in a while and you knew it was a taking more of a toll on you than you had wished. You wished for someone to hold your hand, to take the left side of your bed-- someone who’d be there for you no matter what. But you’ve never truly experienced that type of fantasy, so you most definitely don’t want to go searching for it in Jeongguk.

The car stills and you know you’ve arrived, but you just want Jeongguk to turn this car back around and whisk you away into the sunset.

Sadly, this was reality, not some fantasy.

You inhale, ready to push open the door, when you realize your hand was still intertwined with Jeongguk’s. He smirks before bringing your hand up to his lips, placing a kiss on your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours. You’re gaping, you know you are, but you can’t help but do so. But you quickly revert back to your normal expression as Jeongguk squeezes your hand once more before letting it go. “You can do this, Y/N.”

“That’s baby to you,” you say with a smirk, before opening the door and stepping out. This time, Jeongguk is gaping, before he quickly composes himself, stepping out of the car.

Two can play at this game.

You’re walking ahead of Jeongguk, but he quickly catches up, interlacing your fingers once more. He just loves the feeling of your hand flush against his.

The pink dusting on your cheek is a plus.

Jeongguk rings the door for you, knowing your nerves are probably getting the best of you right now. Plus, you’re squeezing his hand unintentionally tight, so he can take a stab at how you’re feeling.

You paint a smile on your face as the door opens...only to see your father’s frowning face. Your smile slowly falls as you stare at your dad’s stoic face. “I see you finally decided to show up. We already had dinner, Y/N.”

Confused, you check your watch, “But It’s 8:15.”

Your dad doesn’t move away from the entrance of the house to let you two in, leaving you and Jeongguk to stand awkwardly, “Yeah, and dinner was at 5:30. Everyone already left.”

When you give a more perplexed look, Jeongguk lets go of your hand to touch your back with the palm of his hand, his actions and expression taking on the “boyfriend role” quite well as he looks at you, slightly concerned, almost as if he already knows what’s going on. “Didn’t your stepmom tell you dinner’s at 8:30?’

And suddenly it all clicked in your mind, your stepmom was setting you up once again. You turn to your dad, his expression unchanging. “Dad, I’m sorry, but Soomin--”

“Mom.”

Your words falter before you internally roll your eyes and continued, “--told me dinner was at 8:30. So here I am.”

Shaking his head, your dad finally moves to the side for you and Jeongguk to enter, but he doesn’t stop talking. “No, she didn’t. Plus, she was kind enough to call you three times to ask where you were, young lady. And you didn’t respond to any of them.”

The man you’ve known as your father tsks while shaking his head, taking your stepmom’s side yet once again. Said stepmom walks into the living room with a smirk and you want to retaliate and justify your actions so badly, but the hand rubbing your back stops you. You glance up at Jeongguk to see him throwing another one of his show-stopping smiles at your dad. “We’re so sorry, sir. Whether we got the time wrong or not, I was busy at work until now, either way.” Jeongguk reaches his hand out for a handshake. “I’m Jeongguk.”

The smirk on your stepmom’s face wavers when she moves to the side to see the man on your side, as if she didn’t expect you to actually bring someone. And by the look of her face, it doesn’t look like she expected anyone as handsome as Jeongguk, either.

Your dad gives Jeongguk a firm shake, before ushering you two to the living room where your stepmom smiles sickly sweet at your dad. Wanting to cringe, you look away from the kiss that is exchanged between the two of them, Jeongguk giving you a look of amusement.

Noticing the silence, your dad turns back to you and Jeongguk with a blank face.

It’s times like this when you wonder when your dad lost himself.

Clearing his throat, your dad calls out Jeongguk’s name, making Jeongguk straighten up and respond, “Yes, sir?”

“Where do you work that you can’t make it to a dinner?” your dad asks and you inwardly groan. It looks like he isn’t letting go of that one soon, even though it’s Soomin’s fault and that she’s a total bitch and a gold digger and a complete waste of--

Jeongguk interlocks his hand with yours, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb, somehow always sensing when you are feeling like running someone over. “Have you heard of Bank of Jeon?”

Your dad nods while your stepmom obnoxiously exclaims, almost as if she’s ridiculing Jeongguk for even asking, “Duh! It’s the biggest bank in all of Korea!”

“Ah, I’m glad to hear that,” Jeongguk humbly responds. “I’m the CEO and founder of Bank of Jeon.”

All three sets of eyes bulge, including yours. “What?!” your stepmom yells in shock, stopping you from giving yourself away. You quickly compose yourself as you notice even your dad seemed surprise and impressed.

You nudge Jeongguk’s thigh as to say, “What the fuck, dude?” and Jeongguk simply laughs, kissing your knuckles like he did in the car. You feel your heart flutter as you look away, not wanting to give away the blush that coats your cheeks.

Unfortunately, your stepmom notices your reaction, and states before she can stop herself, “There’s no way Y/N got that lucky. All she does is sit in that dumb flower shop all day.”

Neither do you believe it, but you can’t let your parents know that. Instead, you smirk at the disbelief on Soomin’s face. There’s so much you want to say and call her out on, but before you can, Jeongguk beats you to the bush, giving you a fond smile as he does so, “With all do respect, ma’am, I think I’m the lucky one. And I happen to think her shop is beautiful.”

Underneath Jeongguk’s soft gaze, you instantly turn into a pile of mush as you tune out your stepmom’s scoff. Your cheeks dimpled gratefully as Jeongguk slightly shakes his head and scrunches his nose up cutely to you before turning back to your parents. “I’m not joking. When I entered her shop, I didn’t expect to start falling for the amazing woman who lives amongst flowers that strive to match her beauty.” Thump, thump. There goes your heart. Jeongguk gives you an almost longing look, but you ignore the feeling that bubbles in your chest, “But I’m glad I did. And if it wasn’t for you, sir, I wouldn’t have gotten the chance to ever meet her. So I want to thank you. You’ve raised a beautiful daughter.”

Is it getting hot in here?

And when you turn back to look at your dad, you notice his expression has changed-- as if something awakened inside of him. He stares at Soomin in-- is that disgust?-- as she practically bad mouths you, letting go of her hand. He makes eye contact with you and you barely hear him, but he softly states, while interrupting your stepmom, “Yes, she is amazing. Isn’t she?”

Somehow the night ends up with your stepmom in her room, probably pouting while plotting on how to find another rich man, while your dad shows baby pictures of you to Jeongguk. Right now they are laughing at a picture of you with your two front teeth missing as you roll your eyes at them. You have absolutely no idea how the mood of the room shifted from tense to amusing, but you have a sneaking suspicion Jeongguk’s presence influenced that matter.

“And this was the first day Y/N had to wear braces! She was livid that she had to get them; I had to practically drag her to the dentist!” Jeongguk laughs loudly before cooing at you when he sees your unamused look. “Aw, Y/N, you look like Darla from Finding Nemo.”

You gasp while smacking his arm, and shout, “That’s so mean!” which only causes him to laugh louder as he snaps as a picture of it, keeping it for a later you two never talked about having.

Without warning, the mood was muted down. You look over to see your dad staring at a photo of your real mom in her young adult years. And as if you weren’t in the room, your dad motions to your mom in the photo to Jeongguk, “Y/N looks exactly like her, doesn’t she?” Jeongguk looks at the picture and then at you. The resemblance is uncanny, that’s for sure. But no one says anything as your father admires the photograph. No words needed to be said. You felt uneasy, so you get up, ready to call it a night as Jeongguk follows your movements, but your dad stops you two.

“Son,” he says staring at you in what looks to be regret before looking back to Jeongguk. “Thank you for giving my daughter the love she always deserved.”

Guilt nestled at the bottom of your stomach as Jeongguk smiles at your father. Even through everything you’ve been through because of your family, you still felt bad. At the end of the day, your dad is still your dad and you love him. You knew your mother’s death still haunts him. You witnessed his personality change. So in your heart, you knew it wasn’t right, and you weren’t a liar.

“Dad,” you squeeze your eyes tight before opening them and continuing, Jeongguk staring at you in curiosity. She wouldn’t, Jeongguk thinks to himself. Why would she? “I lied to you. Jeongguk’s not my--”

“Y/N!” Jeongguk interrupts, afraid. He doesn’t want it to end so soon. He gives you a look of panicked confusion.

You smile sadly at Jeongguk. He’s helped out so much, and you feel indebted to him as if he didn’t owe you in the first place. “Jeongguk’s not my boyfriend. I-I asked him to be my fake boyfriend for a night, because I always felt so inadequate. But I realize a guy suddenly being in my life as a front, may fool outsiders, but I know the truth. And I don’t want to depend on anyone else but myself. I’m sorry. I honestly don’t have any real excuses.”

Avoiding Jeongguk’s gaze, you start heading towards the door when you hear a chuckle. You turn back around in confusion as you stare at your dad. He claps Jeongguk’s back, patting it a few times. “Y/N, you’re still my daughter. I knew he’s wasn’t really your boyfriend. But I still stand by what I said.”

Shocked and full of emotions ready to burst, you hesitantly glance over to Jeongguk as he shakes your father’s hand. He doesn’t look at you as he instead decides to grin at your father.

You quickly walk over to the door, trying to block out all the thoughts circulating through your head. Your dad opens the door, waving goodbye as you and Jeongguk step out.

You hear the door close, still avoiding Jeongguk’s gaze as you haistly make your way around the car. Looking at the car in disbelief, you start thinking to yourself, How did I not know he was rich! It’s a fricking range--

The rambling thoughts in your mind cease to exist as a hand suddenly spins you around. You stare at Jeongguk in shock and confusion as he gently pushes you towards the car, your back hitting the hood of the car. Jeongguk focuses on you with that same longing look, the tension between you thick. All you hear is your heartbeat wildly jumping up and down, as if your insides were a bed to play on. The closer Jeongguk gets, you start wondering: were Jeongguk’s eyes always so sparkly? Did his hair always look so fluffy and touchable? You reach a hand to his chest, as if to push him away before swallowing, stammering as you try to decipher what was happening, “J-Jeongguk, what are you--!”

Jeongguk caught your hand before you touched him, he whispers, voice a few octaves lower, “Don’t avoid me.” He startles you as you caught the intense look in his eyes. But before you could properly react, Jeongguk yanks you towards him, his lips colliding with yours. You’re stationary at first, trying to process his actions, but your mind screams, fuck it! And you respond to the kiss just as feverishly, if not more. Jeongguk softly grunts, making you smirk into the kiss as your fingers slide up to play with his smooth locks, pulling them slightly before curling them around your finger. He gently tugs on your bottom lip, not beating around the bush. You want to play around and annoy him, but you are way too impatient at the moment, so you open your mouth, delving deeper in the kiss.

Your lips feel like pillows and clouds and everything soft and Jeongguk just can’t believe he’s kissing you, but suddenly you are pulling away way too fast and--

“Wow,” Jeongguk mutters as he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. You bite your lip, before giggling as you play with the hairs at the back of his neck. You look up only to see Jeongguk already staring at you. He demands with that damn bunny smile of his, “Do that again.”

“Do what?” You ask innocently.

“Giggle like that again.”

You look at Jeongguk in dubity while stating obviously, “I can’t laugh on command!”

A pause. A raised eyebrow mocks you.

Giggles start tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them, causing Jeongguk to beam, eyes twinkling in the utmost happiness he’s felt all week. He nuzzles his nose against yours, “That’s my girl.”

He’s so smitten, so damn smitten.

You back away, causing Jeongguk to pout. Shaking your head, you whisper what he said to your earlier against his lips, “I prefer babe.”

Giving you a incredulous look, Jeongguk chuckles, “Okay, babe. Does this mean I can be your boyfriend now? Like foreal? Because I’ve been dying to kiss you like that since I first met you.”

“No.”

“What?!”

“You have to take me on a real date first! Then ask.”

“Oh, of course, where are my manners? First date starts now. Let’s go get McDonalds-- I know you’re hungry.”

“Shit, babe, that turns me on.”

And as you and Jeongguk bond over $1.29 cheeseburgers and salty french fries, laughter flows between you two as easily as air flowing. You don’t realize how empty you felt without the euphoria he brings you, until you acquire an abundance of it and fear losing it. Jeongguk was just that. He was an out-of-breath-in-a-damn-suit-over-flowers-for-his-mother type of interruption in your life, but you just knew he was the wind that was meant to breeze into your life.

2K notes · View notes