#from 22 remaining birds

[lies]

Sometimes when I'm birdwatching

[ladamania]

“On the 6th Day of the 2nd Month of the First Year of the Kampo era. Taking a moment of my free time, I wish to express my joy of the cat. It arrived by boat as a gift to the late Emperor, received from the hands of Minamoto no Kuwashi.

The color of the fur is peerless. None could find the words to describe it, although one said it was reminiscent of the deepest ink. It has an air about it, similar to Kanno. Its length is 5 sun, and its height is 6 sun. I affixed a bow about its neck, but it did not remain for long.

In rebellion, it narrows its eyes and extends its needles. It shows its back.

When it lies down, it curls in a circle like a coin. You cannot see its feet. It’s as if it were circular Bi disk. When it stands, its cry expresses profound loneliness, like a black dragon floating above the clouds.

By nature, it likes to stalk birds. It lowers its head and works its tail. It can extend its spine to raise its height by at least 2 sun. Its color allows it to disappear at night. I am convinced it is superior to all other cats.”

- journal entry of 22-year-old Emperor Uda on March 11, 889 CE and earliest record of a cat in Japan [x]

Black Cat (detail) by Hishida Shunso, 1910 [x]

[sweetpascal]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫

gif by: @richardgrimes

pairing: perv!stepdad!joel x fem!reader

summary: when you do the unthinkable, joel takes it upon himself to let out all of his anger and frustration onto you. the punishments that follow are ones that officially tear you apart and turn you into an unrecognizable girl.

warnings: MINORS DNI. DUB-CON. BIG AGE GAP [18/52], joel is VERY VERY VERY mean in this chapter, face slapping, hair pulling, hella manipulation, finger sucking, spanking as punishment [with his hand and belt], TW: isolation as punishment, TW: emotional abuse, joel spits on your face, oral [m receiving], TW: forced asphyxiation, joel has a very big dick ok, masochism, sadism, dacryphilia, kinda angsty ??

wc: 7.3k

notes: i felt kinda blah about this series cause i feel like i'm not making joel mean enough compared to how some writers write dark!joel (´•︵•`) so i got really sad and put all my emotions into this chapter as a coping mechanism and made joel REALLY fucking mean and just... a horrible and nasty man. trauma ?? i think so. ENJOY. ( ˶ˆᗜˆ˵ )

edit: i posted this later than expected UGH. expect two updates in one day.

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By the time you awoke, the space beside you in bed was vacant. You have no recollection of drifting off in Joel's embrace. As you rise, the fluffy blanket cascades down, gathering around your hips. Joel must have draped it over you once you had succumbed to sleep. The absence of his clothes on the floor and the chill of his side of the bed leave you questioning whether he stayed the night at all, stirring a sense of unease within you. He had done something new, something that made you feel good, and he wasn't here when you woke up. Why? Why wasn't he here? Why do you feel so cold all of a sudden? Was this something normal that men do? Embarrassed by the series of events from last night, you pull on your discarded panties and shorts.

The sunrise had not yet begun. Looking out the window, the sky displayed an almost purplish tint with the sun barely cresting the horizon. It was a cloudless sky, yet the faint chirping of morning birds could be heard from their respective trees. Unsure of the time, as Joel had confiscated your phone and you lacked an alarm clock, the day's start remained ambiguous.

As you tiptoe out of your room, you notice the house is completely quiet. Joel usually wakes up before dawn, but today, a faint snore drifts from his and your mom's bedroom. Moving down the hall, you gently push the slightly open door further. In the dim blue light filtering in from outside, you can just make out Joel's form. He's sprawled on his stomach in the center of the bed, clutching his pillow while your mom's lies abandoned on the floor. Shirtless, the sheets are drawn just below the dimples of his back. The bedside clock shows 5:22 AM.

"Daddy?" you whisper faintly into the darkness, pausing for an answer. Only his soft snores, muffled by the pillow, meet your ears. Drawing nearer, you notice Joel is lying on his good ear, the other affected by partial hearing loss. The urge to rouse him is strong, yet you hesitate, knowing these moments of peaceful rest are few for him.

The rumbling of your stomach makes you whimper. Joel usually prepares meals for you when asked. Your mother, however, rarely agrees, often reminding you that you're old enough to cook for yourself. But Joel always protests, saying, "I don't want your pretty little hands to get all cut up and burned." Perhaps he wouldn't mind if you made breakfast just this once. It would be a sweet gesture to surprise him with breakfast in bed. You wonder if your mom ever did something like that for him.

"I'm going to make breakfast for us, okay, Daddy?" you whisper, a bit louder this time, your hand hovering just above his broad back. You can feel the warmth radiating onto your palm. When he doesn't respond, only emitting another snore, you quietly tiptoe out of the room and gently close the door, cringing when it makes a loud noise at the last moment.

Descending the stairs, a sense of unease weighs heavily in your stomach. Alone, with dark blue hues filling patches of the vacant house and shadows stretching across the walls, you almost feel an invisible presence. You find yourself wishing Joel were awake to fend off the lurking shadows. Rushing to the kitchen, you flip on the light, blinking against the sudden brightness until your eyes adjust.

Opening the fridge revealed a lackluster array of dinner leftovers, several half-empty condiment bottles, an empty milk carton, and a bag of grapes beginning to rot. It was disappointing to find nothing inspiring to cook with. A glance at the stovetop clock showed it was 5:30. The local market would open at 6, and it was only a half-hour walk away. However, the prospect of walking that distance didn't appeal to you, dramatic as it might seem. Your eyes then fell upon Joel's truck keys and wallet in the bowl on the kitchen countertop. Surely, he wouldn't mind if you borrowed them for a quick shopping trip.

Right?

By the time you returned home, it was nearly 8 o'clock. The neighborhood had fully come to life. The groceries in the truck's backseat jostled with every gentle turn. A sinking feeling emerged at the thought of Joel's anger over you borrowing his truck without asking and taking some of his twenty-dollar bills. Yet, it stemmed from a desire to do something kind for him in gratitude for his good care during your mother's absence. An excitement bubbled within you, eager to burst.

You hadn't planned to be out this long, but losing track of time and procrastinating on your tasks is a frequent issue. Joel often chides you for this, playfully urging you to get your head out of the clouds and to come back down to earth. Your only hope is that Joel remains asleep, unaware of your absence. However, the missing money from his wallet, the extra miles on his truck, and the depleted gas are sure to give you away.

As you park the truck in the driveway, you notice the porch screen is wide open, though you remember closing it before sneaking out. Your heart sinks at the sight of Joel's daunting figure in the doorway, his gaze piercing through the windshield. It's a wonder the glass doesn't crack under the weight of his stare. Your pulse quickens, a flurry of nervous butterflies takes flight in your stomach, and your palms dampen with sweat as you clutch the steering wheel tightly.

Joel points at you and then to the ground at his feet, silently mouthing, "Now." He then vanishes back into the house, clearly pissed off. Fear grips you, making it daunting to leave the truck's safety. After six agonizing minutes, you gather enough bravery to step out, your breath hitching in your throat and almost making it difficult to breathe.

After hoisting the grocery bags into your arms and nudging the back passenger door closed with your foot, likely leaving a mark on the polished metal, you make your way to the porch with unsteady steps. The door stands slightly open, and you gently push it wider. As you spin around to close it, a hand reaches over your shoulder and slams it with such force that the house seems to shake. Startled, you yelp loudly as Joel grabs your arm firmly and pulls you into the kitchen, his long strides causing you to stumble over your feet.

"Sit your fuckin' ass down," he practically barks, pulling out a kitchen chair and slams it down. He pushes you toward the chair so forcefully that the grocery bags tumble down around you. As you land on the wooden chair, the impact from Joel's shove nearly expels all the air from your lungs.

He stands over you from your seated position, towering and nearly trembling with fury. Joel's hands are clenched into tight fists, his knuckles whitening under the strain. He scratches his jaw and paces, a low growl emanating from deep within his chest as the intensity in his eyes burns fiercer. You close your eyes, sitting motionless, bracing yourself.

"Are you out of your GODDAMN MIND?!" He bends down to scream in your face, his face contorted in a way that makes him look scary and so different from the usual angry Joel you normally see. This Joel was drowning in rage. His eyes were nearly black and the lines on his face deepened as he snarled in your face. "You fucking ANSWER ME!" One hand grabs the back of your hair and yanks your head back so fast that your nerve spasms, a shrieking cry escaping your lips. His other hand grabs your face and squeezes your jaw so tightly that pain blossoms throughout your gums.

"Stop, stop, stop, please, stop!" You're babbling in his face, thick tears sliding down your cheeks from the intense pain in your scalp, neck, and jaw. You could barely catch a breath from how hard you're crying. "Da-Daddy, p-please!" You're grabbing on both of his forearms, nails digging deep through his long shirt, no doubt leaving indentations.

Joel only grunts lowly, his breath heavy and fast. His hands squeeze tighter, and he roughly shakes your head, loving the way your face scrunches up at the pain he's causing. Then, he forcibly pushes your head away, releasing his hands from your knotted hair and your already bruising jaw. Tears streaming down your face, you draw your knees up to your chest for comfort and hesitantly reach for the back of your head, while your other hand softly caresses your jaw. Your eyes are wide, reflecting a state of shock and fear. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his frown growing more pronounced as you quiver uncontrollably.

He pulls his wallet from his back pocket and flings it towards you. It strikes your knees and tumbles to the floor, unfolding just enough to reveal its barren interior.

"You take my fuckin' truck," Joel says in a low voice, trembling with anger. He steps back, his boots thudding on the floorboards. "You take my fuckin' money." At this point, you're nearly hyperventilating, silently cursing yourself for such a foolish act and expecting him to accept it. He goes on, his tone grave, "And you sneak out without telling me, huh? What, you want more freedom than what I'm giving you here?"

The anger that Joel feels is indescribable. It's coursing through his veins like heroin, poisoning his blood and gradually taking over his body. He doesn't know what to do, or even think. All that he can do is react. How stupid of you to think this was okay. How mind-numbingly idiotic it was of him to expect you to follow his rules and obey him like a good girl. As he looks down at you like smeared shit at the bottom of his shoe, there seems to be only one option left.

Before you can react, Joel has seized your arm and pulled you up from the chair, nearly dislocating your shoulder. His footsteps are long, resounding, and forceful. Tears continue to flow as he hauls you up the stairs. You stumble on each step, crying and sobbing, while you try to keep pace with him. Your knees are banging against every edge as Joel practically drags you up the steps.

"Da-Dad-dy!" Choking on your tears, you can barely see anything. Your vision is blurry, and your hearing is muffled. Every nerve in your body is on fire. "Pl-Please, Jo-el!"

"Get up, girl! C'mon. Get your fuckin' ass up!" He grunts through labored breaths, jaw clenching tightly as he drags your body by the arm up the last step. "I've had 'nough of you."

Suddenly, he kicks your bedroom door open, your heartbreaking cries falling on deaf ears. Your body is shoved into your room with enough force to make you collapse onto the ground. You're gasping for air, your fingers slick with sweat as they frantically claw at the rug, desperate to find something to hold onto.

Joel stands motionless in the doorway, his gaze fixed on you without a trace of emotion. Thoughts flood his mind, overwhelming him like a tsunami. Make her hurt. Make her cry. Make her beg for mercy. He retrieves a key from his front pocket and observes as you pathetically curl into a ball on the floor, your shoulders shaking violently while you cry into the carpet. His hand rests on the doorknob. Before leaving, he speaks in an unexpectedly gentle tone, "Until I believe you've learned your lesson, you're going to stay here, and you're going to think about what you did."

Then, he departs and forcefully closes your door. Amidst your heavy sobs, the sound of the bedroom door lock engaging is audible. Glancing over your shoulder weakly, you notice the doorknob has been altered from before. Gone is the twist lock, replaced now by a keyed lock mechanism.

The epiphany strikes with overwhelming force. Enclosed by a door that's locked and windows sealed shut, you find yourself imprisoned with no means of escape.

Unaware of how much time has passed, you stay on the ground, curled up, emotionless. The tears have stopped, leaving behind an empty stare. The night has already set in, shrouding your room in darkness from top to bottom. Joel's footsteps are audible everywhere, hardly silent. Whenever he approaches your door, there's a halt, a moment of stillness, and then the sound of his steps resumes. Undoubtedly, he was listening with his ear against the door. Each approach brought a heaviness to your heart and a sinking sensation in your stomach.

The aroma of garlic sizzling in oil drifted from the kitchen, prompting your mouth to water and your stomach to knot with hunger. You hadn't eaten since the night before. The clatter of pots and pans, either being used or stored away, brought tears to your eyes. "Stupid, stupid girl," you chide yourself. It was foolish to attempt a kind gesture for Joel, only to have it go horribly wrong. It was a rash and impetuous move. Now, he'll never forgive you for this. This realization has you weeping once more into the spit-soaked, tear-stained rug.

Engrossed in your thoughts, you fail to notice the door has come unlocked and now stands ajar, the hallway light spilling in and illuminating your huddled form. Joel pauses in the doorway, a plate of food in hand, and tuts softly at the pathetic sight before him.

"Sit up," he commands, making his way deeper into the dimly lit room. The sound of his rough voice had your entire body tensing and your quiet cries immediately halting. When you remain still, Joel becomes irritated and prods your hip forward with his muddy boot, leaving a mark on the pristine white dress you wore especially to surprise him. "I said, get your fuckin' ass up, little girl. Don't make me tell you again."

With trembling limbs, you gradually unfold yourself, grimacing as your muscles burn. Your scalp, jaw, neck, knees, and arms feel as though they are on fire. After hours of immobility and neglecting your aching body, the pain strikes you with overwhelming force.

Joel squats before you, emitting a soft grunt as his knees pop and his lower back tightens. In silence, he extends the plate of food between you both: parmesan garlic chicken, green beans, and red roasted baby potatoes. The aroma and appearance make your eyes widen, your mouth water, and your stomach rumble.

The moment your fingertips graze the plate's underside, Joel pulls it away and sets it on the ground. Your faint smile vanishes, replaced by a frown as you meet his stern gaze. He remains silent, his stare unwavering. Looking down at the plate, it dawns on you that there's not a fork, knife, or even a spoon in sight.

"Eat," he commands, his voice a quiet murmur. Joel's gaze is fixed on you, his eyes unblinking, his facial expression shifting subtly. The softness and tenderness that were once reserved for you have vanished. He never used to look at your mom the way he looked at you. But now, his gaze is identical. It leaves you feeling sorrowful and heartbroken.

Confused and very much embarrassed at not knowing what to do, you hesitantly reach out to grab the chicken with your bare hand. Joel's hand roughly clamping around your wrist and shoving it away prevents you from doing so. There was a surge of panic that shot through you like a shotgun blast.

"No," he snaps, his eyes narrowing and his scowl deepening. It's clear he's losing patience. Joel has no time for games. "Bend down… and eat," he commands.

There's a tense, heavy moment of silence as you thoroughly think about what he's telling you to do. Warmth spreads throughout your neck and rises to your cheeks before settling on the tips of your ears. Your heart plummets to your stomach. So, like an obedient little dog, you lower your head down to the plate on the ground and begin eating.

Joel smiles at your obedience, one hand gently petting your head and tenderly massaging the tendrils of hair connected to your scalp that he viscously yanked. He softly quiets you when you flinch and unintentionally whimper. He maintains the gentle, affectionate strokes of his hand through your hair, even gathering it into a ponytail to help you eat more comfortably.

"That's a good girl," he softly praises, settling onto his knees in front of you and using his other hand to gently stroke your jaw. "See how easy it is to obey Daddy? You just needed some of Daddy's tough lovin', huh?"

Is this what it was? Some tough love? You've never encountered that before, much less experienced it. Since you were never a problem child, discipline was seldom necessary. Maybe this is exactly what you needed to be a good girl for Joel. Maybe this tough love is what will help you do better and learn from your stupid mistakes.

As you continue eating, Joel finds himself slowly loving the sight of you eating like a fucking mutt in front of him. Knowing that he can push you so far as to do something like this excites him. His hand tightens in the makeshift ponytail he has your hair in, and his eyes darken. Letting out a whimper that was muffled from your food, you make sure to not complain about it to Joel. He was already upset with you from earlier and you really don't want to push it further.

"That's enough," he declares, his hand in your hair stopping your movements while his other hand takes your plate away, leaving half of the food untouched and uneaten. His hand pops you on the cheek when he hears you protesting, a pained yelp escaping your slobbered lips. He forces your head up to be eye level with his. "Listen to me, little girl. From this moment forward, Daddy will decide what you eat, when you eat it, and how much you can eat. Have I made myself clear?" His voice's tone is so authoritative that it holds no room for argument, not that you could muster one even if you wished to.

Nevertheless, you find yourself nodding within his grasp. Choosing not to protest was wise. Should this behavior be part of your punishment or his version of tough love, you certainly wouldn't want to witness him at full strength. Merely the thought was enough to make you shudder with fear once more. Joel was an incredibly strong man, often unaware of his own strength. He could break your jaw with one squeeze--he almost fucking did it this morning.

Joel mocks your nod. "Good," he hums, offering you a pleased smile as he lovingly strokes the apple of your cheeks. "Now, come to the bathroom so Daddy can brush your teeth."

Leaving your half-finished plate behind, you follow Joel into the hallway. You trail behind him aimlessly, your steps shaky and limping. He notices but chooses not to comment. It's for the best, a silent reminder that such consequences will recur if you act carelessly again.

Joel opens the door to the main bathroom and guides you inside with care. He lifts you with ease under your arms and sets you down on the countertop. A small squeak escapes from your chest, a sound that Joel finds adorable. He flashes a subtle grin and begins to wet your toothbrush, dabbing on the toothpaste. He shuffles between your thighs and thumbs your mouth open to start brushing your teeth. His actions brought you comfort, making you feel cherished and cared for. Even though you could have done it yourself, witnessing Joel display his nurturing side was touching. You longed to see more of this aspect of him, silently promising to be well-behaved with every passing minute.

"Alright, babydoll," he says as pats your thighs lovingly and rinses off your toothbrush after instructing you to lean over the sink and spit out the minty froth. "Now, get your butt back to your room and lean over the bed, panties off."

Joel notices the confusion spark in your eyes before it manifests in the furrowing of your brows. Your lips part to question him, but the words become stuck in your throat as his eyes darken and he gives a subtle shake of his head, tutting softly to himself.

"And here I thought you were goin' to start listening to me," he lets out a dark chuckle before invading your space with his strong chest pressing against yours. The force of the action causes your back to crash against the mirror, your head striking the glass while the sink spout presses into your lower back, causing discomfort and pain.

He bares his teeth just barely as he gets in your face, nostrils flaring and eyebrows furrowing, the storm brewing wildly in his eyes. Joel laughs gruffly as your eyes widen and you put your hands up in front of your body against his chest to protect yourself from his unpredictability. Oh, how cute. You were shaking under his hold like a frightened little bunny. Joel presses you harder against the mirror, no doubt forcing the sink spout deeper into your back. He grumbles pleasantly under his breath. He was causing this terrible fear clear as day on your face. The blooming bruises on your body are caused by his hands. The finger shaped bruises looked like a work of art on your delicate skin.

"Oh, babydoll," his breath fans across your face. He gives you a mocking pout, hushing you softly when the tears spill. "You're makin' it real hard not to paint that ass black and blue, you know that?"

Your bottom lip trembles and your body quivers, eyes shutting tightly as you mentally prepare yourself for Joel's next action. Tears spill and disappear underneath your aching jaw. He wipes them away at first, but when they keep sliding down, he wipes a tear-stained thumb across your lips before pushing the appendage deeper into your mouth and pressing down on your tongue.

"D'you taste that?" He asks you so quietly that you almost missed it. He's looking at his thumb between your lips and bites down on his own. Joel gazes into your wide eyes, which stare back at him as if he were the boogeyman. In a way, he is. "That's the taste of fear, sweetheart. Don't it taste fuckin' delicious?" The laugh he lets out is depraved, deranged, and delirious. With his thumb still in your mouth, he uses the other fingers to wrap under your chin before using that grip to force your head to move up and down roughly. "That's what I thought. Now, I ain't going to ask you again, babydoll. Take your ass back to your room and take off your fuckin' panties. When I get back, you better be leaning over the edge or so fuckin' help me God."

The mere threat was sufficient to send you scuttling down the hallway, pushing past Joel in a rush to get to your room. He watches you do so with a sadistic smile on his face. To see you react in such a way has him so fucking hard in his jeans. He cups a hand over the thickness and squeezes. There was a brief warmth pooling in his groin, and he let out a husky moan before his hand falls away. In due time, he silently tells himself.

Shaking, stuttering breaths were muffled in the bedding. You did exactly as you were told. The tips of your toes just barely skimming the rug, you were leant over the edge of the bed with your panties pooled at your ankles. One of your hands had blindly reached across the bed to grab onto your stuffed animal to curl an arm around it and press it against your side. The only comforting thing you can have at this moment that can hopefully ease the unsettling anxiety that won't go away.

Uncertain of how much time has passed, it might have been five minutes, ten, or perhaps even an hour. You caught a fleeting sound of Joel entering the room to retrieve your plate, then he left, securing the door with a lock behind him.

Long stretches of silence enveloped you, allowing the sound of your own heartbeat to echo mercilessly in your ears. It was a fleeting moment of tranquility before Joel determined his next move. In this stillness, sleep nearly overtook you, the exhaustion from hours of weeping creeping up silently. Then, the door unlocks, knob slowly turning. The ominous creaking of your door opening has you tensing as you hold your breath.

The steady stomp of Joel's footsteps enters your room before the door is shut behind him. The sight of you in a position that he demanded from you was driving him fucking wild. Panties at your ankles and your cute ass on display, the hem of your dress stopping just at the middle of your cheeks. He can see your pussy nearly calling out for him to play with her. But he can't, not at this moment. He needs you to understand that your actions, done behind his back, were unacceptable. They were reckless and dangerous—just the thought of it is enough to make Joel feel like punching a wall over and over.

"Now, what am I goin' to do with you, babydoll?" The question is rhetorical. He knows what he's going to do to you, but you don't. Leaving you in the dark of where his mind runs wild, keeping you pure from his deranged, perverted thoughts was for your own good. He intends to maintain a safe distance to prevent any critical harm, beyond what has already been inflicted.

The sound of Joel's voice has your hips shifting, your pussy lips just barely parted to give him a show of your exposed clit poking out from the hood that protects the exposed nerve. As he gets closer, he can see your stuffed animal in a headlock under your arm. How cute and pathetic.

"I gotta say, honey," he starts talking, his voice humorless and no longer holding that warm tone he previously had when he walked in. "It was adorable you thought I was done with you tonight. I mean, you really thought Daddy locking you up here was all that he was goin' to do?"

Unsure if the question was rhetorical or not, you still answered in a breathy voice, "Y-Yes, Daddy."

A smile makes its way onto Joel's face. "Yes, Daddy," he mocks your high pitched, breathy voice. The act of him doing so caused an embarrassed flush to warm your cheeks and ears. To be mocked made you feel so small. But that's what you are to Joel; this tiny, little thing that is so easy to crush in his big hand.

His groin rests against your ass cheeks, both of his hands lifting your dress higher until it pools around your upper back, further exposing your naked body to his eager eyes. The rough denim of his jeans and the cold metal of his zipper pressing into your backside made you hiss under your breath. Joel's hands hold onto your hips, forcing your body further onto the bed until your toes are no longer skimming above the rug, your feet now only dangling a few inches up.

"That's more like it," he grunts quietly, biting down on the plump flesh of his body limp when he sees goosebumps erupt on your soft skin. So, so fucking soft and untainted. As one hand pins you down at your lower back, his other hand gently rubs across your left ass cheek. Barely glancing at you to make sure you're prepared for what's to come, Joel mutters, "Brace yourself, sweetheart."

Then, he thwacks his palm across your skin. The force and strength of the smack made you cry out in surprise and pain. He smacks your other cheek with the same force. He does it again and again, back and forth, back and forth. Your legs kick behind you as fiery warmth blossoms along your backside. Your arm squeezes tighter around your stuffed bunny as you blindly reach a hand behind you to cover your bottom. Joel was quick to grab your wrist to pin it at your lower back.

He doesn't fucking stop spanking you. Not even when his own handprint is starting to show on your skin. He grunts with every thwack of his hand across your sensitive flesh. The cries that are forced out of you were music to his ears. Your backside feels like it's on fire underneath his wide palm; he doesn't know when to stop or ease up. The frustration and irritation from earlier were slowly making their way into Joel's mind.

"Bad." Smack. "Bad." Smack. "Fuckin'." Smack. "Girl."

Joel grunts like an animal as the smacks happen in quick succession. You're wailing into the covers, feet kicking weakly as you try so desperately to wiggle away from him. He won't stop. The pain is indescribable. It burns so badly, throbbing non-stop and feeling like a million needles are being stabbed into your skin. Your throat hurts from your pain-filled wails that are muffled into your bedding.

He's panting heavily and sweating. Wiping a forearm across his forehead, Joel removes his hands from your body, tilting one hand to the side to observe your marked ass. His handprints are on your skin, clear as day. He can feel the blazing heat radiating from your backside. But again, he's not done with you yet. And he tells you just that.

"Quit your fuckin' whinin'," he orders, both hands lowering to his thick leather belt to undo it from the hoops of his jeans. "We're not done until I say we're done." He folds the leather and snaps it together, the resounding sound causing you to cry harder in the sheets.

You learned your lesson. You know that you've been a bad girl. You know this. But the words fail to emerge, your voice and mouth unable to coordinate effectively enough to communicate with Joel. A tumult of emotions rages through your violently trembling body: fear, confusion, intense pain, and fatigue.

Folded, thick leather smacking against tender, angry skin is what forces a scream to erupt from your throat. With your bunny discarded, both hands desperately grab at your bedsheets to pull you away from Joel and his offending belt. You can faintly hear him sucking his teeth before one of his hands roughly yanks you back down by the back collar of your dress.

"Cry as much as you want to, babydoll!" he shouts through your pained wails. Then, the belt strikes across your ass repeatedly. Joel was barely giving you time to breathe through your tears and dribbling snot and drool that slides down your chin. "Kick all you want! Daddy ain't stopping!"

He lowers the position of the belt so that he can strike the back of your thighs as well. You're sure that after tonight, you won't be able to sit or speak for a very long time, for your vocal cords are nearly shattered from how hard and loud you were screaming, and Joel's hands and belt are bruising your backside. You're wishing that this torture will end. You're wishing that Joel will stop and hold you while you cry in his arms like a blubbering baby. Stop. Stop. Stop.

"Stop!" You screamed and screamed, both hands desperately reaching back to cover your backside. Everything burns. Everything feels like it's on fire. The pain only intensified when Joel tossed his belt aside and resorted to the palm of his hand again. "Please, please, stop, p-please!" Your speech now slurred and unrecognizable from thick tears, your hands claw at Joel's wrist, his hand wrapped around both of your own wrists to pin at your lower back again.

Only then does Joel snap out of it.

He's breathing so heavy that an innocent bystander would think that he was having a panic attack. Joel looks down at his creation and finally pulls his hand off of your wrists. Your arms go limp at your sides; you don't even bother trying to cover yourself. He looks at your backside, his thumb gently wiping away some blood that dotted around broken skin that was caused by his belt. He hums thoughtfully, bringing his thumb to his lips and licking your blood from the tip. In a day or two, your ass was going to be badly bruised and marked, all thanks to him.

"Such a sweet girl," he whispers, leaning down to press his nose behind your ear and inhaling deeply. Your body violently shakes underneath his chest. His groin is crushed against your horribly bruised ass, the pressure of it making you cry weakly, all the energy suddenly drained from you once he stopped abusing your ass.

Glancing down at his hard cock, now thick and pressing uncomfortably into his thigh, Joel decided now would be a good time for you to make him feel good. Though he knows you're not up for it, he doesn't fucking care. A darkness lurks within his mind, akin to an alter ego that commandeers his body, a monster in its purest form. This other facet of him is sadistic, vicious, and relentless. With you, it's so easy to fall into this second body. It's addicting. He can't stop, even if he knows this is wrong.

With a hoarse grunt, Joel grabs the back of your arms and yanks you off the bed to drop you down onto your knees. With a hand under your chin to keep your face pointed up to him, his other hand unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down, along with his underwear. He pushes both offending fabrics mid-thigh, sighing with satiated relief when his cock slaps up, nearly poking you in the eye.

You could hardly pay attention. Your eyes were unfocused and hazy, swollen lips parted to inhale and exhale shakily. You were so deep in another world that Joel had to roughly shake your head to bring you back down the earth. Unsure of why you feel so dizzy, you tried focusing on the pain in your backside that was still throbbing relentlessly, the burning fire now sizzling into a numb sensation.

"Tongue out," Joel demands roughly as he holds your hair into a makeshift ponytail with one hand as the other holds the base of his cock to tap his leaking tip against your lips.

Hearing his order, you look up at him with tear-filled eyes and do as you're told. You don't even know what exactly you're doing, but all you can hear in your mind is be a good girl and listen to him. Your eyes almost cross as you get a better look of his cock, and they widen comically. God, Joel was really long and thick. You wondered if all men were this size. It was intimidating to look at. You don't know if even less than half could fit in your mouth, let alone inside of you. Joel observes the revelation in your eyes and drops his left into a wink.

"Careful with your teeth, baby," his voice was gruff and strained, his mushroomed tip throbbing against your lips as his heavy balls tighten from the warmth pooling intensely in his groin. "Yeah, just like that."

His praise was something that you desperately needed tonight. Forgetting about the unrelenting abuse you endured on your backside, you can make it up to him by showing you that yes, you really are a good girl, and you will listen to him and do what you're told.

When you take too long to give Joel what he wants, he decides to take charge in one way that he knows how. Both hands grab either side of your head, forcing it to stay still as he shoves half of his cock into your mouth. Your eyes widened and you sputtered sloppily around his dick, your hands frantically fisting his jeans at his thighs. He grunts and groans, sweat pooling behind his neck and sliding down the line of his back.

"Goddamn," he hissed under his breath, moving his hips forward and back to start fucking your mouth with a brutal pace that has his balls slapping against your wet chin. "Born natural, ain't ya?"

Coughing and choking around his cock, you gagged and dry heaved as his thickness fills your mouth repeatedly. Spit dribbles down your chin and slides down your chest as you bite back the bile pooling in the back of your throat. Joel's breathing stutters for a split second at the sight below him. Your lips were obscenely stretched around his girth, eyes wide and glassy with thick tears just waiting to spill over. The sloppy, wet noises coming from your mouth nearly made him bust right in your mouth.

"Let me try somethin'," Joel mumbles to himself before roughly grabbing the back of your head and forcing your head all the way down until your nose and lips were crushed against his dark public hair. The contractions of your throat squeezing around his cock has him moaning gruffly at the ceiling, his head thrown back, Adam's apple bobbing in time with each moan that comes out.

Taking advantage of Joel's lax state, your nails dig into the thick meat of his thighs to push yourself off of him. His cock slips from your lips, strings of spit connecting from the enlarged tip to your puffy lips. You're coughing and dry heaving, your throat burning terribly. Joel looks down and grins wolfishly.

His hand languidly strokes his soaking cock. The sight of you struggling from his size was an image he wanted to engrave in his mind so he can watch it over and over again. He liked seeing you struggle. Hell, he fucking craves to see it again. Without giving you any time to prepare, he grabs the back of your head to force you down onto his cock once more.

The sopping wet choking sounds that are emitting from your throat are driving him insane. He wonders what would happen if he just...

Both hands roughly grab your head to yank you down until his cock goes down your throat again. This time, he keeps you there for a few, long, grueling seconds. You're sputtering wildly, eyes wide with terror as tears spill over your waterline. Your fists are weakly punching at his thighs, and you try to pull your head back, but Joel only crushes your head harder into his pelvis until your nose is pressed so deep into his pubic hair.

Joel grunts like a wild beast. "Just like that. Fuckin' choke on it." He sees your lashes flutter weakly, your eyes half-lidded and rolling into the back of your head. The lack of oxygen to your brain has your heart slowing dramatically. This is your death. Yeah, this is definitely how you're going to die: choking on Joel Miller's dick, also your mom's husband.

Suddenly, your head is pulled off and you're gasping for air like it's the last thing on earth. Your head is spinning and you're doubling over until your forehead is almost touching Joel's boots. Your throat burns and you can barely feel your tongue. This wasn't supposed to be happening. This is all your fault. You deserve this punishment. Bad girl. Bad, bad, bad girl. Slowly rocking yourself back and forth, you sniffle softly and take a weak glance up at him. A shadow almost casts over your face from where you kneeled, his long cock perfectly aligned below the ceiling light.

Joel bends down to lift you higher on your knees. His big hands gently hold your cheeks, and your eyes shut as this is the first tender touch you've felt in hours. You savor this moment, sniffling again and licking your bottom lip. Joel smiles sweetly, lowering his head to kiss your forehead, nose, and then your lips. A sweet little whimper reverberates against his lips. When he pulls away, he quietly instructs you to open your eyes, babydoll.

When you do, you're met with sweet, nice, tender Joel again. Have you really made it to the end of your punishment? Are you his good girl again? Is this really it? The moment doesn't last long. The smile on Joel's face vanishes gradually slowly. There's a sick feeling that returns back inside your stomach. This is going to be never-ending. This is your well-deserved punishment. Pain, pain, pain.

When Joel purses his lips, you flinch when a wad of spit lands on across the bridge of your nose and slides down your cheeks prettily. Your eyes open and your mouth drops. This was the most demeaning thing for him to do. Spitting on your face is a clear indication that you're nothing more than a personal toy for Joel to use. This whole entire night was of him showing you what you mean to him. The thought added a crack to your heart. All you ever wanted was to be good.

Joel's fingers filthily rub his spit all over your face, a crude smile on his face as he does so. His middle and index fingers are shoved into your mouth, the pads of his fingertips covered in his slick and are now laying against your wiggly tongue. "There we go," he breathes out, gently prodding his fingers further down your throat until they brush against your uvula, causing you to gag and sputter.

You barely have enough time to react before he's yanking his fingers from your mouth and landing a smack to your cheek. It almost sends you flying to the side if it weren't for his hand holding onto the other side of your face. Joel hushes you quietly when your eyes shut tightly, fire spreading across your face.

"This is for your own good, babydoll," he whispers against your forehead, pulling away to pop your cheek again, and then landing another smack to your other cheek. He shushes your pained cries again, giving you a messy, tongue-filled kiss. You can't stop crying against his mouth, snot, spit, and tears all over your face. The anguish won't diminish. It gets stronger and stronger the more Joel breaks you apart little by little.

His hands curl into your hair, tightening into fists and yanking your head back a few inches from his face. His eyes darken as he sees the fear in your beautifully broken eyes. He spits on your face once more, trailing his eyes over the artistic splatter across your nose and cheeks. His cock, still rock hard and soaking wet, hangs out of his jeans.

Joel is a patient man. In due time, you and he will finally become one. Whether you liked it or not, you were his--his to use, his to play with, his to destroy. You don't have a voice anymore. Joel Miller broke you apart with his bare hands and left you scrabbling to pick up the pieces.

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[dawnchorus-if]

‎ ‎‎

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎‎ Your sister is dead, murdered and mutilated and left to rot in a brothel like a sickly dog. You finally know your purpose: revenge.

DAWN CHORUS is an 18+ interactive fiction about death, love, and the song of new morning. Demo TBA.

You live in The Rocks, a decaying settlement in the shadowed outskirts of the kingdom, Cape Lyra. Once a cozy village, The Rocks has withered into a decrepit ruin since the assassination of King Cedric. Queen Lyra, for whom the kingdom was named, became consumed by grief and neglected the outer villages. Now, The Rocks is a place where even the birds come to die.

Desperate to earn money for the both of you, your sister ventured to Cape Lyra with her best friend, Jax. Only Jax returned, covered in your sister's blood, with a hazed description of her killer. Driven by the need for retribution, you and Jax set out for the kingdom, determined to find and punish the sick soul who took your sister's life. When revenge is your only remaining purpose, a life for a life only seems fair.

You hope.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎Fully customise yourself, from your name and appearance to your sexuality to your greatest woes and wants. Choose your approach to grief, to anger, to revenge—drown in your sorrows or push them aside in favour of a... different kind of vice. Curate a story that revolves around who you are, and what you'll stand for.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Explore relationships with six different romanceable characters, and a multitude of other characters to befriend (or behead). Interact with a diverse cast of characters, each with their own impact to leave on the story. Just... be careful who you trust, some people might not be who they say they are.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Find out what really happened to your sister. Hunt down her killer, or killers, and determine your own ability to play executioner on her behalf. Open doors to dark rooms in the royal family history, find out that there's a lot more darkness in Cape Lyra than there is light.

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Get involved in the politics of Cape Lyra. The people can only be neglected for so long before they start to revolt, right? What side of history will you be on? Or will you be too blinded by grief to care who gets hurt?

‣‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ Exorcise a demon, maybe.

DAWN, born amidst the morning birdsong, the cherished youngest child of King Cedric and Queen Lyra, and the heir apparent to the throne. They don't often get to see outside of Cape Lyra's walls, so don't fault them for being a little juvenile in their knowledge of the world, it's not born from a lack of desire. There's a youthful charm to Dawn, and a deep-seated eagerness to know more about the kingdom they'll one-day rule. [M/F, 22]

ASA KYNES, climbing the ranks as one of Cape Lyras most dedicated royal guards, Kynes is as formidable as they are resolute. You won't get past them very easily, they've got keen judgement skills, and you're up to something, they're sure of it. Kynes is loyal, and more than willing to lay their life down in servitude to the monarchy. Getting Kynes to open up is hard, but may be more than worth it. [M/F, 26]

JAX HANSLEY, your sisters best friend and now your accomplice in avenging her. Jax is royalty in The Rocks, charismatic beyond belief and has been teasing you since you were just starting to walk. Extravagant and always looking for something to do, you'll never find yourself bored around them. Plus, you couldn't get rid of Jax even if you wanted to, they're the closest thing to family that you have left. [M/F, 24]

CERYS SELINE, owner and face of The Rabbits Foot, Cape Lyra's busiest tavern. Cerys is a stern woman who works her ass off day and night, but there's a sweet undertone to the way she speaks: something nurturing. She's a pillar of the kingdom, well-connected and respected. There's more to her than meets the eye, sure, but for now she's more than willing to aid you in finding your sisters killer. [F, 26]

ARTHUR CASE, a priest who has been ousted from the kingdom for reasons he just won't speak aloud. Left with only one leg and crumbs of his faith, he's living in his late father's old church a short trek from the kingdoms gates. Pop in for a service one day, maybe confessionals don't always have to be one-sided. [M, 29]

??? — something cold in the shadows, and its eyes are on you.

DAWN CHORUS contains some heavy topics, such as graphic depictions of death, violence, drug use, explicit language and skippable sexual content. Classism is also a present topic. Readers discretion is advised.

reblogs r so appreciated and asks are more than welcome ^^

[uncharismatic-fauna]

An Affinity for the Southern River Terrapin

The southern river terrapin (Batagur affinis), also known as the tungtung or the royal turtle, is a species of freshwater turtle residing, as its name implies, in the southern part of the Malaysian Peninsula, particularly along the western coast. They reside in estuaries, portions of large rivers that are regularly exposed to ocean tides.

While initially plain in appearance, the southern river terrapin can be visually striking. The body and shell are entirely black, or dark brown in females. The only spots of color are carried by males: bright yellow or white eyes and orange inner cheek flaps that are exposed when the mouth opens. Batagur affinis is also quite big, with females (the larger of the two sexes) reaching an average length of 62 cm (24 in) and a weight of 38 kg (83 lbs).

The tungtung is an omnivorous species. Its serrated beak allows it to feed on a variety of plants like grasses, algae, and fruits, as well as freshwater invertebrates like crustaceans and mollusks. Due to the high salinity of their habitats, they often leave the rivers and forage for food on land. The large size and thick shells of adults deters most predators. However, eggs and hatchlings are vulnerable to monitor lizards, otters, birds of prey, and crocodiles.

Mating for Batagur affinis occurs from October to February. Males and females remain relatively solo throughout the rest of the year, although they aren't overly territorial. Once a male locates a female, the two touch noses and he pulses his jaw to emphasize his bright orange cheek pouches and the white stripes on the inside of his throat. After copulation, the female lays a clutch of 20-40 eggs in nests dug in the sandy river bank. Young royal turtles hatch anywhere from 60-120 days later, depending on the temperature of the nest. Juveniles can take 18-22 years to reach maturity. Adults regularly reach ages well over 45, and individuals as old as 100 have been recorded.

Conservation status: The southern river turtle is considered Critically Endangered by the IUCN. Over-harvesting of both eggs and individuals has decimated populations, and those that remain are threatened by habitat destruction. However, both local and international conservation efforts have been underway to preserve the species and its ecosystem.

If you like what I do, consider buying me a ko-fi!

Photos

Eng Heng Chan

Paul Calle

Thorn Sophun

[greenwitchcrafts]

October 2024 Witch Guide

New Moon: October 2nd

First Quarter: October 10th

Full moon: October 17th

Last Quarter: October 24th

Sabbats: Samhain- October 31st-November 1st

October Hunter's Moon

Also known as: Blood Moon, Drying Rice Moon, Falling leaf Moon, Freezing Moon, Harvest Moon, Migration Moon, Moon of the Changing Season, Sanguine Moon,, Shedding Moon, Ten Colds Moon, Winterfelleth & Windermanoth

Element: Air

Zodiac: Libra & Scorpio

Nature spirts: Frost Faeries & Plant Faeries

Deities: Apollo, Astarte, Belili, Cernunnos, Demeter, Hathor, Herne, Horned God, Ishtar, Lakshmi & Mercury

Animals: Elephant, jackal, ram, scorpion & stag

Birds: Crow, heron & robin

Trees: Acacia,apple, cypress & yew

Herbs: Angelica, burdock, catnip, pennyroyal, sweet Annie, thyme & uva ursi

Flowers: Apple blossom, calendula, cosmos & marigold

Scents: Apple blossom, cherry & strawberry

Stones: Amethyst, beryl, cat's eye, chrysoberyl, citrine, obsidian, opal, sapphire, tourmaline & turquoise

Colors: Black, blue, dark blue, blue-green & purple

Issues, intentions & powers: Cooperation, darkness, divination, healing & hope

Energy: Artistic works, creativity, harmony, inner cleansing, justice, karma, legal matters, mental stimulation, partnerships, reincarnation & uncovering mysteries or secrets

The Harvest Moon is the full Moon that occurs nearest to the autumnal equinox date (September 22, 2024). This means that either September or October’s full Moon may take on the name “Harvest Moon” instead of its traditional name. Similarly, the Hunter’s Moon is the first full Moon to follow the Harvest Moon, meaning it can occur in either October or November.

The Harvest Moon & the Hunter’s Moon are unique in that they are not directly related to this folklore or restricted to a single month. Instead, they are tied to an astronomical event: the autumnal equinox!

• October’s full Hunter Moon orbits closer to Earth than any of the other full Moons this year, making one of the four supermoons of 2024!  As the Moon drifts over the horizon around sunset, it may appear larger & more orange—how perfect for the fall season!

It is believed that this name originates from the fact that it was a signal for hunters to prepare for the upcoming cold winter by going hunting. This is because animals were beginning to fatten up in preparation for the winter season. Moreover, since fields had recently been cleared out under the Harvest Moon, hunters could easily spot deer & other animals that had come out to search for remaining scraps. Additionally, foxes & wolves would also come out to prey on these animals.

Samhain

Known as: Ancestor's night, Feast of Apples, Feast of Sam-fuim, Feast of Souls, Feast of the Dead, Geimhreadh, Hallowmass, Martinmass, Old Hallowmass, Pagan New Year, Samana, Samhuinn, Samonios & Shadowfest

Season: Autumn

Element: Water

Symbols: Apples, bats, besom, black cats, cauldrons, ghosts, gourds, jack-o-lanterns, pumpkins, scarecrows & witches

Colors: Black, gold, orange, silver & white

Oils/Incense: Basil, cloves, copal, frankincense, gum mastic, heather, heliotrope, mint, myrrh & nutmeg

Animals: Bat, bear, boar, cat, cattle & dog

Stones: Amber, anatase, black calcite, black obsidian, black tourmaline, bras, carnelian, clear quartz, diamond, garnet, gold, granite, hematite, iron, jet, marble, onyx, pearl, pyrite, ruby, sandstone, sardonyx, smokey quartz, steel & tektite

Food: Apples, ale, beef, cider, corn, nuts, fruit, garlic, gourds, grains, hazelnuts, herbal teas, mushroom, nettle, nuts, pears, pomegranates, pork, poultry, pumpkin pie, sunflower seeds, thistle, turnips & wine (mulled)

Herbs/Plants: Acorn, allspice, angelica, besom, catnip, corn, deadly nightshades, dittany of Crete, fumitory, garlic, mandrake, mugwort, mullein, oak leaves, patchouli, reed, rosemary, rue, sage, straw, tarragon, thistle & wormwood

Flowers:  Calendula, chrysanthemum & heather

Trees: Apple, beech, buckthorn, hazel, pine, locust, pomegranate, willow, witch hazel, yellow cedar & yew

Magical: Faeries

Goddesses: Al-Lat, Baba Yaga, Badb, Bast, Bebhionn, Bronach, Brunhilde, Cailleach, Carlin, Cassandra, Cerridwen, Copper Woman, Crobh Dearg, Devanyani, Dolya, Edda, Elli, Eris, Erishkigal, Fortuna, Frau Holde, Hecate, Hel, Mania, The Morrigan, Nemisis & Nicneven

Gods: Arawn, Baron Samede, Chronus,The Dagda, Dis, Hades, Nefertum, Osiris, Pluto, Woden & Xocatl

Spellwork: Divination, fire magick, night magick, shape-shifting, spirit calling & water magick

Issues, Intentions & Powers: Crossroads, darkness, death, divination, honor, introspection, otherworldly/underworld, release, visions & wisdom

Activities:

•Dedicate an altar to loved ones who have passed

• Boil a simmer pot to cleanse your space

• Have a silent dinner

• Light a candle for your loved ones & yourself

• Decorate your house and/or altar

• Release negative energy & cleanse yourself with a ritual bath

• Pull tarot cards to see what may be in store for you ahead

• Cleanse, clean & de-clutter your space

• Host or attend a bonfire

• Leave offerings for the Sídhe

• Journal & reflect on your accomplishments, challenges & everything you did this year

•Go on a nature walk

• Learn a new form of divination

• Have a bonfire with your friends and/or family

• Carve pumpkins, turnips or apples

• Express yourself creatively through art, music, ect

• Visit a cemetery & help clean off areas that need it or to visit a family member/ ancestor & leave an offering

• Hold a seance

• Bake spooky treats & bread as offerings

• Refresh your protection magicks, sigils & rituals

Samhain is about halfway between the autumnal equinox & winter solstice. It is one of the four Gaelic seasonal festivals along with Imbolc, Beltane, & Lughnasa. Historically it was widely observed throughout Ireland, Scotland, & the Isle of Man. 

Samhain is believed to have Celtic pagan origins &  some Neolithic passage tombs in Great Britain & Ireland are aligned with the sunrise at the time of Samhain. It is mentioned in the earliest Irish literature, from the 9th century & is associated with many important events in Irish mythology.

The early literature says great gatherings & feasts marked Samhain when the ancient burial mounds were open, which were seen as portals to the Otherworld. Some of the literature also associates Samhain with bonfires & sacrifices.

• According to Irish mythology, Samhain (like Beltane) was a time when the 'doorways' to the Otherworld opened, allowing supernatural beings and the souls of the dead to come into our world; while Beltane was a summer festival for the living, Samhain "was essentially a festival for the dead".

•The festival was not recorded in detail until the early modern era. It was when cattle were brought down from the summer pastures & livestock were slaughtered. Special bonfires were lit, which were deemed to have protective & cleansing powers.

At Samhain, the aos sí were appeased with offerings of food & drink to ensure the people & livestock survived the winter. The souls of dead kin were also thought to revisit their homes seeking hospitality & a place was set at the table for them during a meal. Divination was also a big part of the festival & often involved nuts & apples.

Mumming & guising were part of the festival from at least the early modern era, whereby people went door-to-door in costume, reciting verses in exchange for food. The costumes may have been a way of imitating & disguising oneself from the aos sí. 

• In the late 19th century, John Rhys and James Frazer suggested it had been the "Celtic New Year", but that is disputed.

Some believe it is the time of The Goddess' mourning the death of The God until his rebirth at Yule. The Goddess' sadness can be seen in the shortening, darkening days & the arrival or cold weather.

Related festivals:

• Halloween( October 31st)-

In popular culture, the day has become a celebration of horror, being associated with the macabre and supernatural.

•One theory holds that many Halloween traditions were influenced by Celtic harvest festivals, particularly the Gaelic festival Samhain, which are believed to have pagan roots. Some go further & suggest that Samhain may have been Christianized as All Hallow's Day, along with its eve, by the early Church. Other academics believe Halloween began solely as a Christian holiday, being the vigil of All Hallow's Day.

Popular Halloween activities include trick-or-treating (or the related guising & ghouling), attending Halloween costume parties, carving pumpkins or turnips into jack-o'-lanterns, lighting bonfires, apple bobbing, divination games, playing pranks, visiting haunted attractions, telling scary stories, & watching horror or Halloween-themed films

• Day of the Dead(November 1st-2nd)-

 el Día de Muertos or el Día de los Muertos

The multi-day holiday involves family & friends gathering to pay respects & to remember friends & family members who have died. These celebrations can take a humorous tone, as celebrants remember amusing events & anecdotes about the departed. It is widely observed in Mexico, where it largely developed, and is also observed in other places, especially by people of Mexican heritage.

•The observance falls during the Christian period of Allhallowtide.

Traditions connected with the holiday include honoring the deceased using calaveras & marigold flowers known as cempazúchitl, building home altars called ofrendas with the favorite foods & beverages of the departed & visiting graves with these items as gifts for the deceased.

 The celebration is not solely focused on the dead, as it is also common to give gifts to friends such as candy sugar skulls, to share traditional pan de muerto with family & friends, & to write light-hearted & often irreverent verses in the form of mock epitaphs dedicated to living friends & acquaintances, a literary form known as calaveras literarias.

 Some argue that there are Indigenous Mexican or ancient Aztec influences that account for the custom & it has become a way to remember those forebears of Mexican culture.

• All Saint's Day(November 1st)- 

Also known as All Hallows' Day or the Feast of All Saints is a Christian solemnity celebrated in honour of all the saints of the Church, whether they are known or unknown.

Sources:

Farmersalmanac .com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

Wikipedia

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Encyclopedia britannica

Llewellyn 2024 magical almanac Practical magic for everyday living

[604to647]

Safest with You (✨Series Finale✨ Ch. 22 - The Long Road to Forgiveness)

16K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

No Summary or Warnings to avoid spoilers! (18+ Content, MDNI please - there are no warnings that would apply that haven't been noted on a previous chapter in the series).

A/N: This is it! Our series finale!! 😭😭🥰 (And it's a monster - sorree🫠) I love these two so much and I don't think I will ever truly say goodbye to them - there is still an Epilogue coming and possible one-shots in the future, but this is the end of our main story/relationship arc for them; I hope it's enjoyable and satisfying 🥹. Thank you to everyone who has read along with the series - it was my very first foray into fanfic and I've learned (and I hope, improved!) so much as a writer over this past year - I can never thank Din, Pretty Bird and all of you enough for this experience. Merci, merci, merci et je t'aime 😘😘😘

Dividers by @saradika-graphics as always 😘 / Series Masterlist

You don’t know how long you stand there, unmoving. 

He’s here. 

You truly believed you would never see Din again, but here he is sitting before you, looking more handsome than you remember.  The strong lines of his face and soft waves of his hair are both longer than when you saw them last but he’s still the same man who exudes a gravitational pull that you can’t help but feel tug at you.  And yet, you remain rooted in place - unable to go to him, but unable to leave.

Finally, Din stands and rises to his full impressive height, looking at you pleadingly with soft, unsure eyes; he starts to slowly move closer, one gentle footstep a time - as if afraid to spook you.

You count his steps.  One… Two… Three… Twelve… Fifteen… until he stands right before you, close enough for you to reach out and touch. 

There’s an unspoken understanding between the two of you that even though Din sought you out, that you’re the one who has to speak first; your words the only ones with the power of invitation… or dismissal.

The only problem is you don’t know what you want to say.  You had already made peace with the idea that you and Din would never speak again and chosen not to lingered on what remains unsaid, never mind how you would ever go about approaching those topics.  While you frantically try to navigate the questions that suddenly flood your mind, Din gingerly holds out the peony bouquet to you in offer.

And like he had done so a million times during your relationship, Din quiets your overthinking mind with a simple, but sweet gesture so you can think clearly.

You reach out to take the flowers from him and briefly admire them – they’re beautiful.  Your favourite.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

“You’re welcome,” Din’s voice is equally soft, cautious.

Raising your eyes from the pretty pastel blooms you find Din looking at you with such familiar tenderness that you can’t stop your heartstrings from strumming.  It was one thing to have worked through your feelings, finding a peace in being over Din while on your own; it’s another thing entirely when he’s right in front of you.

“Din, what are you doing here?”

Din’s countenance is one of resignation and apology, “I- um.. I just… I just wanted to let you know you’re safe.”

You don’t know how to respond to this declaration.  Din takes your silence as a request to further clarify, “To be clear, you were always safe… always protected.  I just mean that the threat made against you has been eliminated… no one is after you.  And no one will ever come after you.”

It’s still not much of an explanation, but you ask, “And the others, they’re safe too?”

Of course you would worry after the others, smiles Din, “Yes, everyone is safe.  You’re perfectly safe.  You’ve always been safe and you always will be.”

And while you immediately understand that Din’s intention in coming today is to reassure you, give you closure, you find his words insufficient.

Eyes piercing, but voice soft, you sigh, “I didn’t feel very safe.”

“Oh fuck, pretty bird.  Shit.  I thought you knew that even if we weren’t together, the Family would protect you.  I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean f-”

Your hand comes up slightly to interrupt, “You misunderstand, Din.  I didn’t mean I felt like I was in any danger or that I was scared.  Because I didn’t.  I meant I didn’t feel safe.  How could I?  When the person who made me feel the safest, the one who I trusted the most to care for my well being had abandoned me?” 

You inhale and exhale a deep, surrendering breath, “There’s a difference between knowing I’m safe and feeling I’m safe, Din.”  Unsure of where these words are spilling from, you couldn’t stop them even if you wanted to, “You need to know that you have more to offer someone that just protection.  To me, you were comfort, steadiness, security – my port in any storm no matter how big or small.  With that taken from me, how could I ever feel safe?”

The look of devastated comprehension on Din’s face nearly makes you regret your words.  You hadn’t meant, nor do you harbour any desire to make Din feel badly - he had come to you today with the sweetest of intentions. And so, you try to give him a kindly smile through your sad eyes, “Din, it’s okay.  Really.  I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel bad or because I need you to apologize for it.  I know you did what you thought was the best for me, what kept me the safest… but, for the sake of the next person you’re with – I hope you can consider that making someone feel safe is as much about being there for them, being reliable, as it is protecting them from danger.”

The silence that follows is heavy with regret and contemplation.  And even though it wasn’t the point of your speech, Din, for the moment can only speak to the one thing he’s sure of, “There’s never going to be anyone after you, pretty bird.”

“Din…”

“It’s the truth, but I know that that’s neither here nor there.  I didn’t come here today to try and beg you for another chance or to see if you wanted to still be with me.  I know it’s impossible - I ruined any possibility of us.  But, please know - there isn’t any universe where I get over you.  Where there’s a ‘next person’ - you were it for me.  And having heard what you said today, I now know that as much as I thought I did what was needed to keep you safe – I do have to be very sorry and apologize because it turns out that I still failed.  I’m so sorry, pretty bird.”

Din sinks to his knees and wraps his big strong arms, the very ones whose warmth and security you knew so well, around the back of your legs and presses his face into the softness of your belly.  As you card your fingers through the silky curls of Din’s hair, the familiarity of the gesture softens your heart even further.

You know Din is sorry.  You can feel his remorse and apology with every fibre of your being - and so, heart complacent in the face of Din’s complete surrender and capitulation, you forgive him. 

There’s nothing more to it.  Din’s sorry and he carries an albatross of regret for having hurt you - you have no desire to punish him more. 

It had been naïve of you to think you had nothing left to say to Din - there are words that had, unbeknownst to you, been hiding in your heart, trapped with nowhere to go for the last four months, now beating loud against their makeshift prison to be heard.  For your own hard-won peace, you can’t let Din go without having him hear them. 

“Din, I meant what I said: you are so much more than the protection you provide.  You were the keeper of my heart.  Being with you was a dream – I had never felt more confident, content, and hopeful for the future.  Everyday, I was the most cherished, adored woman on earth, and I believed you would safeguard my heart as if it was your most precious treasure.  Every time you decided for me that my safety was compromised by being with you – every time you left – it felt like you were ripping that comfort and security away.  Please, Din - I’m not saying I don’t appreciate your concern for my physical safety, but it should never have come at the expense of the safety of my heart.”  Din rises as you punctate your point, “The hardest thing was losing the security I thought I had that our love was worth something to you too.”

You start to walk and Din follows, the emotion and sincerity in your voice holding him a willing hostage.

“And it’s not just how you approached the threat made against me, Din.  I know you always kept secrets from me about parts of your life that, I don’t know… you thought might make me see you differently?  And maybe that was partially my fault for being okay with it in the beginning out of some desire not to encroach on things that might not have been my business.  I don’t even know anymore.  But even if you didn’t know how I would react or thought I couldn’t handle the type of things you said I was too ‘good’ for, I think it hurt us in the long run that you didn’t give me the benefit of the doubt to try.  Did you genuinely think I would choose to leave?  I mean, Din - are you ashamed of who you are or any of the things you’ve done?”

In every battle Din’s ever fought with himself when it came to being with you, he’s asked himself this question, “I… I can live with myself, pretty bird.”

“Then maybe I could have, too?  For the entire time we were together, you only ever made me feel supported and uplifted, comfortable no matter the situation, Din.  I was certain there was nothing that I could tell or share with you that could ever make you love me any less.”

Against your wishes, your eyes well up as you think back to Din’s abandonment, “That’s how much I trusted you, how much my heart believed in your goodness.  I… can’t help but be hurt that you didn’t trust me the same way.”

You allow Din to walk you down to the subway platform, and when he curls himself around you to shield you from the wind tunnel the incoming train brings, you heart pulls unexpectedly with a longing that you had thought was long extinguished.  It’s this: this care, this thoughtfulness that has always been, to you, the measure of the man Din is – you leave him with this final thought before the subway car doors close behind you, “You didn’t need to protect me to make me feel safe, Din.  You were enough.”

Din goes home and thinks about what you said.

He doesn’t think anyone has ever loved him the way you did – he had never had any one say that they saw him beyond being a protector.  It touches something deep inside him to know that he gave you comfort and you had loved him for his soft and giving nature, not the hardness of his utility.  He chose to provide for you in the manner he thought he was best suited, but what you had sought was something he never considered anyone would want from him: a true, equal partnership.  That you had felt he didn’t believe in your love, in you - and that he hadn’t held both in the high esteem that he does?  Well, that was inexcusable.  Din adds it to the long list of ways he had hurt you that he could never forgive himself for.

Din doesn’t harbour any illusions that he has another chance with you, but this he can still make happen – he can show you that he does trust you. That he had held dear your belief in him and still does.  He can show you that the love you had bestowed upon him was the greatest gift he had ever received.

He can find the courage to be truthful about all the things that he had thought he had to keep a secret from you.  You were right - he hadn’t been wholly honest with you.  Saying it was for your protection, but the truth was Din had been afraid if you knew the realities of his world, the darker side of who he was, perhaps you would look at him differently.  Maybe you wouldn’t have been able to look at him at all.

But you were the most reasonable, smartest, sweetest, generous person he knew – and he hadn’t treated you as such.

You were right.  He hadn’t shown very much faith in you or your love – but he could fix that.  What did he have to lose by showing you the truth of who he was?  He had already lost you - the least he could do is try and take away some of the hurt he had caused.

To say you’re surprised to see Din again the next day is an understatement.  Having once again resigned yourself to never seeing him again after leaving him on the subway platform yesterday, you can’t deny the warmth that blooms tentatively in your chest when you find him sitting in the courtyard waiting for you after work once more

This time, it’s you who approaches him – an unspoken question on your bemused face.

Din rises to meet you and holds out another bouquet of peonies, just as beautiful as the one with which he had met you the previous day, “So, pretty bird, do you want me tell you who was behind the threat?”

Din comes every day to pick you up after work and sees you all the way home.  Some days you take the subway together and on others you walk the long walk – but Din always stays to walk Al with you once you reach your building.  He waits patiently downstairs while you go in to get Al and lovingly greets the pup who receives him as if Din hadn’t disappeared from his life for nearly a year.  It makes you smile to see that their bond remains unchanged.

You and Din talk - freely, unrestrained; no more secrets, no emotions withheld – nothing is off limits.

As promised, Din starts with the topic of what came of the threat made against you and other Fett Family loved ones.  You insist that Din not spare any of the details that he might be tempted to temper or deem too unsavoury for you; you don’t know that Din has already made the commitment to be nothing but transparent with you.

It was the Hutts.  Everything had been the Hutts all along: from the small incidents of vandalism and theft to the minor outbreaks of violence that had increased in intensity and frequency all the way up to Cass and Rikard’s wedding, even the assassination attempt at Boba’s birthday, and then the threats made against you and those nearest and dearest to the Fetts.  The Hutts had been behind it all, though they had not done it alone.

Ultimately it had been the Fett-Pyke engagement announcement (made some time when you and Din first started dating) that had set things in motion.  When Cass and Rikard announced their intention to marry, there had been a small, contingent group of Pyke Syndicate members that had not been as happy for the couple as they claimed to be.  They had tolerated the relationship even though they found it distasteful, but a marriage?  A marriage meant a formal, legal tie to the Fett Family and that they just could not allow.  It had been years since there had been any bloodshed between the two clans, but in their eyes, some things could never be bygones.

But what could they do?  They were an older, fading minority in the Syndicate.  Lom and Marg were progressive leaders who had numbers and support - if they wanted the union to happen, their followers would fall in line.

So, they reached out to someone who abhorred the idea of the Fetts and Pykes coming together even more than they did: The Hutts.  The Hutts couldn’t care less about the legacy of old grievances - what they didn’t want is for two of their rival clans to become allies, even if they were, for the moment at least, only getting along for the sake of a couple of kids.  They feared that the ties between the Fetts and Pykes would only become stronger and that eventually, familial ties and business ties would blur.  If the Fetts and the Pykes were to work together, they would indisputably become the strongest crime syndicate in the city, easily overpowering and out-muscling the Hutts and other clans if they wanted to.

The small group of Pyke conspirators worked with the Hutts to slowly, and without raising suspicion, create discourse between the Fetts and the Pykes.  They even enlisted the help of the Crymorah Syndicate to sow the seeds of mistrust.  Those months of unrest and escalating security incidents during your relationship with Din had been the work of their efforts – Din had been right, there had been a behind-the-scenes culprit orchestrating it all.  At first, they hit all the clans and their territories with impunity - not marking anyone as an obvious target in order to foster a general atmosphere of unease and instability.  Then gradually, they increased the pressure on only Fett and Pyke marks, hoping that it would cause the two clans to start pointing the finger at each other and destroy any goodwill that the engagement had garnered.

To their great frustration, aside from putting everyone on high alert and causing undue stress on security teams from both sides, it seemed that the newly forged bonds of friendship and trust between the Fetts and Pykes, while tentative, were holding strong.

The wedding had gone off as planned to the displeasure of those who had been conspiring against it.  A few of the lower-level Hutt footmen had made a last ditch attempt to make their frustrations known by crashing the end of the wedding and getting into it with the younger Pyke cousins; but even that disturbance had been easily squashed by Din and the Mandos.

The brief period of respite that had occurred after the wedding was due to the Hutts and the rogue Pykes regrouping for their contingency plan.

This time, instead of targeting both clans in order to insinuate some kind of escalating payback between the two families, they would target only the Fetts and frame the Pykes.  The plan included a two-pronged strike on the Fetts: first, on territories and businesses that bordered those of the Pykes, and second, where it would hit the clan the hardest - family.  Between the threats made and the unyielding onslaught of attacks and violence, they hoped to run down the Mandos and throw the organization in such disarray that the Fetts would foolishly follow the planted clues leading to the Pykes being responsible – thereby breaking up any potential alliance and possibly even leading to a war that would end the possibility on a permanent basis.

It was diabolical.  And it could have very well worked if not for Boba’s instincts and his belief in the inherent good of those Pykes that he now, through marriage, considered family.

Din tells you every detail of his and Paz’s investigation: every false lead they chased down, the twist and turns of every revelation, and each and every time they fell for one of the Hutt’s traps.  You hear the names of more Hutts and Pykes and Crymoreans than you can keep straight and you learn how Din got the information needed out of each one of them.  Din doesn’t mince words and he leaves nothing to innuendo: he trusts you with the whole truth, no matter how dirty, gritty, or damaging.

Your expression gives nothing away.  You ask a million questions.  Din answers every single one in full.  He talks so much that your time together eventually extends to include Al’s late-night walk so that Din can share as much as he can before needing to wait before he sees you again the next day.

You’re not sure when, but during one of these nightly dog walks, Din’s fingers tentatively lace through yours and instead of pulling away, you give his hand a gentle squeeze and leave your hand resting comfortably in his.  He holds your hand every chance he gets after that.

After he finishes his tale with an assurance that those responsible in the Pyke Syndicate have been weeded out and dealt with, along with some graphic details on how Boba exposed and put an end to the Hutts’ subterfuge, Din opens up to you about his past.

He tells you everything you’ve ever wanted to know about the type of work he’s done for the Fett Family in the past and what he still does to this day.  Every scar on Din’s body that you’ve ever traced beneath your delicate fingers has a tale of savagery and he tells you every single one.  You grimace at the graphic descriptions, but your eyes never shy away from Din, tender and worried even now for wounds long since healed over.

Your heart breaks for Din with every story he recounts where he lost a friend, was betrayed by someone he had trusted, or where he saw the duplicitous nature of the people who occupy the world he was born into.  Every loss, every breach of trust has carved a mark into this man that you thought you knew so well, molding him into the cautious warrior that he is – only now, perhaps, do you truly understand why Din is so protective over those he holds dear, why he had been so protective over you.

He’s the man you always knew he was: honourable, loyal, true of heart, wise but somehow not jaded or world weary.  Din remains unchanged in your esteem: a good man who tries his best.  You can’t help but admire him.

One night, right before you and Al head in, instead of wishing you a good night, Din looks nervously at his feet.  

“Pretty bird, can I kiss you?”

You look at Din, not without affection but still unsure of how you feel or how you want to feel now that your story seems to be continuing beyond what you had reconciled yourself to, and shake your head, no.

Din nods understandingly and tries to give you an expression that’s devoid of disappointment; while he would have loved for you to have answered affirmatively, he would never push you.

He continues coming to see you every day and the conversation resumes without reservations.

You go back in time in your relationship and ask questions you didn’t even know you had back then.  Din remains candid and open – he’s found it to be easier to be plainly honest with you now that he’s started.  For your part, you’re astonished to learn of things you probably should have suspected, like how the boxing circuit is mob dominated because of the rampant gambling, and other things you never have would guessed, like how Mayfeld owns a successful chain of barbershops.

Sometimes the conversation veers again to how you and Din separately fared over this past year.  He always apologizes profusely and refuses to shy away from any re-airing of your insecurities and confusion about this time.  For the first time, he confesses aloud the depth of his depression and the emptiness he felt without you in his life.  It brings you no joy to hear how Din struggled and how he’s punished himself while you were apart.

It’s with sincerity that Din tells you that he found a small comfort in knowing you had moved on, that if not gone, at least the hurt he had inflicted on you had lessened; you tell him about your healing turning point: when you returned his items.  He listens, full of emotion, as you recount how going through his things unearthed memories of a loving relationship and that you consider him to be a great love of your life.  When you tell him this, it’s with an unnamed swirl of feeling that thunders in your chest.

You chuckle somewhat awkwardly when Din tells you about how Peli had stormed into Mando’s after you dropped off his boxes, bellowing that even though you had made Paz promise not to tell Din he had seen you, she “didn’t effing promise.”  Though the image that Din paints of an irate Peli is amusing, you sheepishly explain the reasoning behind the promise you extracted from Paz.  Din can’t quite believe it – you had wanted to protect him?  After everything he had done?  He thanks you for having attempted to shield his feelings, though he doesn’t think he deserved it - but then again, he never thought he deserved you.

With earnestness, you assure Din that he did and even after learning everything he’s now been so transparent about, your opinion hasn’t changed - he’s a good man.

It takes several weeks of you repeating this for Din to maybe concede that he could be.

Every night before he leaves you, Din asks you the same question, “Pretty bird, can I kiss you?” 

And while your affections for Din continue to grow and your trust in what he says solidifies, still you shake your head and say no.  Your nightly refusal is received with an understanding nod – no guilt, no pressure. 

After about a month walking you home everyday, Din suggests getting dinner one night.  You could bring Al, he says, hopefully, and cites the nice weather and abundance of dog friendly patios.

You have dinner together that night.  And the next night.  And the next.

Din’s company is as comfortable and easy as you remember; his very presence can still calm you and his sweet words and longing glances set your heart a flutter the way they used to.  You find yourself sometimes wishing Al’s nighttime walks were longer just so you can stay with Din, even though you know you’ll see him again the following day.  And yet…

“Pretty bird, can I kiss you?”

Your answer remains unchanged.  When you look deep in Din’s eyes, you see a yearning that mirrors the one that’s started to grow in your heart, but even with all that’s been said between you and him over these past several weeks, you’re still terribly unsure.  Unsure if you can trust Din with your heart again. 

Tonight, instead of just nodding at your response with graceful acceptance, Din looks at you with seriousness and gingerly brings his hand up to cup your face - he wants to makes sure you see in his eyes the sincerity that comes with his next words.

“Baby, I want to be clear - I love you.  I’ve never stopped and my feelings for you are as strong as they’ve ever been.  But I have no expectations and I would never ask you for anything.  If all I can ever be to you is someone whose company you enjoy once in a while, then I’m happy.  These past few weeks is the happiest I’ve been for almost a year.  I don’t expect you to feel the same way as me and I won’t push.  If you want me to stop asking to kiss you - if it makes you uncomfortable, or you just don’t want that thought to have any place in this friendship we’re rebuilding, then I’ll stop and I promise I’ll be okay with it.”

There he is - the considerate man you had loved.  The one who took intimate care of your emotional safety and for whom disrespect and unkindness were never an option.  You don’t know if there’s a future for you and Din in the way that he’s imaging, but Din’s sweet words and the way he’s looking at you right now make you hopeful for the possibilities. 

“Don’t stop asking,” you say in a shy voice.

The smile on Din’s face couldn’t be more radiant - it lights up his whole face and he breathes, eyes soft, “Ok, pretty bird.  I won’t stop asking.”

Din’s daily presence and the time you spend together become such a comfortable part of your life that you hardly recall what it was like before; as time goes on, your conversations become less expository and return to an easy, natural rapport.  

You ask after Paz, Lisa, Poe, Cass and Boba, and even Fennec and her mods, all the Mandos, Peli and the more colourful characters from the gym – delighting in all their recent shenanigans.

Din always asks about your friends.  When he admits how much he admires them, especially Rory, you tell him he reminds you of her sometimes and that she’s surprisingly been his biggest champion.  You think he looks proud at this.  To your surprise, Din tells you that he’s read Bea’s book – he happily discusses its characters and plot points with you, and you giggle at how he tries to hide his excitement when you tell him insider info on the upcoming second book in the series.

Topics of discussion come out of nowhere but the conversation never wanes: what books you’re both reading, new and upcoming fighters at Mando’s, Greef’s short lived attempt at mandating a required book club for all the fighters (“Gentlemen, we need to also exercise the mind”), the latest season of the Korean dating show that you were both addicted to, Katie’s upcoming play, Mayfeld’s sad attempts to recreate your garlic knots.

When you offer to make a batch and bring it over to Mando’s one day, Din jokes that he won’t tell Mayfeld unless you want him to replace Din at your next after work pick up.  Inwardly, his heart is doing backflips at you making any future plans that involve him, however tangentially.

He’s in love with you and he won’t even lie to himself anymore about wanting you back.  But he meant it when he told you he’ll never push or pressure; it would pain him to make you uncomfortable in any way.  Din drinks in every happy smile you give him and floats on the waves of your musical laughter; contents himself with stealing admiring looks when you’re not looking and he holds your hand like it’s the most precious thing he’s allowed to touch - because it is.

Din endlessly compliments you and it truly takes him no effort to make you feel the way he always did: special, beautiful, smart and witty, and like everything you do and say matters.  Your kindness and sweetness to him seems to know no bounds – he should have never expected anything less; even knowing everything you do now about him, you still treated him like he’s someone worth being around.

He thanks you for this.  For being you. 

You tell him there’s nothing to thank you for as you squeeze his hand and something in your expression gives him courage; he asks you again, “Can I kiss you, pretty bird?”

Tonight, you nod.  As Din leans in, your heartbeat quickens not just from anticipation, but also fear. 

You’re frightened.  Frightened because you want Din to kiss you.  Frightened because you think you want to open up your heart to him, but you don’t have any assurance that he won’t abandon you again.  Frightened because you want to take the risk, because you think he’s worth it.

As soon as Din’s lips touch yours, the tingling spark that spreads throughout your entire body from the familiar and missed touch leaves you shivering.  Din must feel it too because he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in close, crushing his mouth to yours to deepen the kiss.  When you open up to invite him in, you unexpectedly let out a loud sob that bubbles up from your chest without permission and hot tears spring from your eyes, running down your cheeks.

“Baby,” Din gently cradles your head in his large hands and strokes your hair soothingly.

You hiccup and choke out, “Was I so easy to leave, Din?”

“Oh fuck, sweet girl – no, of course not.  Leaving was the hardest thing I ever had to do; it nearly killed me every time I walked away from you.”

“You did it so many times,” you cry, sad and exposed.  Din had left you.  Even if you understand his flawed reasoning, you still can’t quite reconcile it with the love he professes to feel for you.

“I know,” Din hangs his head in shame, he tilts your trembling face to his and tries to brush away your tears. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll probably never understand the anguish I put you through – I told myself it was better than if any physical harm were to befall you, but I hated it, hurting you.  I only ever wanted to keep you safe, care for you, and give you everything you deserve, but I had convinced myself that it was worth it if you were safe.  When I saw the way you looked at me that night with Vanessa, I could see the betrayal you felt… it gutted me and I knew right away I had made a mistake.  I felt like the biggest piece of shit on the plant.  I was the biggest piece of shit on the planet.  And it was probably nothing compared to how I made you feel.”

You want to tell Din that you don’t like it when he talks poorly about himself, but you let him continue.

“I already didn’t deserve you, but the way I left you… the way I hurt you?  Well, that just confirmed it.  How could someone who could hurt an angel be deserving of that angel?  But baby, I loved you so much - you were my everything, my sun, my moon.  And I missed you so fucking much.  Every single waking moment of every day, all I could think about was you.  How you were, if you were okay, hoping I hadn’t somehow hurt you beyond repair.  Part of me wished you would have forgotten all about me so that I couldn’t hurt you anymore, and the more selfish part of me hoped you wouldn’t – that you might still remember what we had before with love.  When you told me that you had questioned everything about our relationship, I realized how stupid I had been to think I understood the damage I caused.  I was a bigger piece of shit than I already knew.  If it was possible, I was even less deserving of you than I thought.  I didn’t expect you to ever be able to forgive me.  So whenever I thought there was another choice between your safety and my happiness… I couldn’t choose my happiness.  I didn’t deserve it… and you deserved better anyways.  So, I always chose your safety and walked away.”

Din’s own tears have now begun to fall; he lets you wipe them away with your soft thumbs.

“But it was never easy, and I am so, so sorry, pretty bird.  Walking away from you is the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.  I love you more than life itself.”

He looks broken.  He’s so hard on himself, you think.  Din’s words touch you and you believe them to be genuine, but you don’t know how much stock you can put into them, “How do I know you won’t do it again, Din?  How do I know that when push comes to shove, if you think it will somehow be good for me, or if I deserve better, or if you’re saving me, or whatever, that you won’t leave again?”

“I could never leave you again, pretty bird.  I would rather die than hurt you ever.  And it would fucking kill me; it almost destroyed me to be apart from you this last year.  Absolutely nothing could ever be worth betraying your trust and heart again… even imagining it makes me sick to my stomach.  I love you and I won’t ever go away unless you wish me away.  I’m going to dedicate everything in my power to making you happy and to make things up to you, to earn your trust back – because that’s what you deserve.  You deserve complete devotion, loyalty, unquestioned love.  I was too stuck before on if I was deserving of you, but fuck – that was so fucking stupid of me – the only thing that matters is giving you what you need and deserve.  I’ll never leave again, baby – I promise.”

Din debates getting down on his knees to beg you, “If you give me the chance, I’ll spend every day proving it to you.  Every day trying to earn back your trust.  Would you be willing to give me the chance?”

The truth is you don’t really need to think about it - for these past few months, Din has already been on the long, slow road back into your heart.  It hasn’t always been easy and there had been unexpected turns, but Din has been unwavering and consistent in his pledge to be open and honest.  He’s extended himself and now you want to do the same; you look at him, soft and earnest, and nod your answer.

Before the joy that blossoms in Din’s chest can explode, you place a tender hand on his cheek and your happy expression mixes with one of concern, “Din, promise you’ll never call yourself a piece of shit again, okay?  The man I loved, the one I want to love me again is honourable, loyal, unflinchingly kind and sweet - and I need him to know he’s a man of value and true genuine worth.  You said so yourself, it was simpler for you to walk way when you thought you didn’t deserve me - when you believed you weren’t the one for me.  I need you to feel like you’re the one for me, okay?  Forgive yourself, please.  I deserve a man who is as kind to himself as he is to me.”

How are you so fucking sweet?  Din doesn’t deser- no, that exactly the type of thinking you just asked him to stop feeding into; he shakes it off and agrees to your request.

Din means it.  He could never leave you again - even if the world was burning down, he’d stay by your side.

He reminds you of his vow ever day after.  Tells you.  Shows you with his soft and hard kisses and with the way he holds you and treasures every touch you share.  He demonstrates it in his commitment to and the dependability of his love - showing up everyday and being unflinchingly open and honest about everything.  His raison d’etre is to cherish you, adore you, support you in the way you deserve.  Din’s love for you has never wavered and he can only show up day after day after day so that you hopefully never have a reason to doubt it again.

And then one day, Din’s not there.  You leave your office at six, around the usual time when you’d find Din waiting for you.  Only today he’s nowhere to be found - not in the courtyard, or alongside the building, or out towards the street.

You’re momentarily confused - he’s here every day, where is he?  When your head clears, you realize that it’s not just that you expected Din to be here, you want him here.  You look forward to seeing him every day and enjoy having him as a regular and consistent part of your life again.  Whatever is going on between the two of you, however or whatever you’re still figuring out, it makes you happy that he’s here. 

And today he’s not - your heart constricts at what this might mean.  Is Din okay?  Is he hurt?  You hurry down the steps of the courtyard straight to the street to flag down a cab so you can head directly to Mando’s.  It never even crosses your mind that Din has had a change of heart, that maybe he no longer wants to walk this slow road that the two of you have been treading - the one paved with trust and forgiveness, all leading to a destination you haven’t even defined.  Not for a second do you worry that Din may be giving up on what has essentially amounted to the hint of a promise that the two of you were working towards being to each other what you were before.

Because you already were.  Because you believe every word he’s said about never leaving you again, how he would be open with you about everything, that being apart nearly killed him, and how he would never give you reason to doubt him ever again.  You had told yourself you wanted to believe in Din and that you eventually could, but your heart already had.

So, if Din wasn’t here, it wasn’t because he didn’t want to be - there had to a reason.  You’re nervously fidgeting in the cab when you get a string of texts about halfway to the gym.

Unknown number [6:27 pm]: Hello!  This is Jimmy!  A big delivery of equipment for Mando’s came late today and we’ve been unloading it and Din left his phone up in his office and didn’t realize what time it was.  He told me to text you and tell you he’s sorry he’s not there to pick you up and he’s really sorry and he’ll call you when he can get back up to his office and he’s really sorry! 

You breathe a sigh of relief and laugh a little at yourself for how worried you had been. 

You love him. 

Your head’s been proven right with what your heart already knows: Din will always come through.  He’s your steady rock – your person to depend on, to trust.  You love him.

As soon as the cab pulls up to Mando’s, you spot Din.  His back is to you as he pulls a giant box off of a truck to load onto the pallet that Jimmy’s patiently holding the handle to.  Din’s back and arm muscles stretch and strain against his shirt as he lifts the heavy cargo in one swift motion, carrying it almost effortlessly - though you can see from the bulge of his veins and the tension in his neck that an impressive effort is being exerted.  And though he looks positively drool worthy, it’s the knowledge that that same strength devotes itself to your care and safety that has your heart racing.

The moment he’s set down the box you’re running to him, calling his name; Din turns at your voice and the surprise on his face is quickly overtaken by a grin so bright it might send you stumbling if you weren’t so determined to get to him.

Slamming into his hard chest, you bury your face into the comforting wall before you happily breathe in Din’s familiar, musky scent. 

“Hey pretty bird.  Did you get Jimmy’s text?  I’m so sorry – I really meant to pick you up as usual.  This delivery just took longer than I thought it would.  I’m sorry, baby.”

Mumbling into his chest, you nuzzle in further, “It’s okay, Din.  I know you would have been there if you could.  But…”

Pulling back so there’s no misunderstanding when you say what your heart wishes for Din to hear, you lace your fingers behind his neck, “I hated that you weren’t there and I just wanted you to know that.  I want you always, Din.  I don’t want you to… away.”

Din presses you back to his front and chuckles into your hair, “Okay baby, you already know I’m yours, always.  And after the way I fucked up this last year, I couldn’t be apart from your even if I was stupid enough to try.  It would fucking kill me - I’m never going to ‘away’, sweet girl.”

“Good,” you murmur, tipping your head back and letting Din’s lips find yours.

It feels like a first kiss.  Not a tentative or exploratory one like the first time your lips touched all those many moons ago, but like the first kiss heralding in a new era.  One full of promise, of giddy bliss and of partnership.  A future.  Every stroke of Din’s tongue against your own is brave and insistent and he fills your mouth with the emotions leaping from his chest that he can’t quite articulate because you won’t allow him the air to speak.  You nip and lick and sigh – wanting nothing more than to devour him, and you just might have if the hoots and hollers from your audience at Mando’s didn’t tear you, suddenly shy, from Din’s kiss swollen lips.

“Alright, alright, knock it off,” Din shouts over his shoulder good humouredly - he looks down at you, unable to contain his elation, “Pretty bird, should we go and get Al?”

You nod happily.

Over the next two weeks, you and Din enter a new phase of your renewed courtship.  No more hesitation or careful treading of your feelings, only open and jubilant reveling in your affections and love for one another.  Din dotes on you and spoils you as he always did, and you let him – generous in return with your praise and reassurances that he makes you undeniably happy.

He wines and dines you with enthusiasm, taking you out nearly every night even though you insist it’s not necessary.  He tells you that he has a lot of dates to make up for.  You make out like teenagers and take Al out on longer than necessary walks just so you can stay in each others’ arms.

Though your time together gets progressively more amorous, you don’t spend the night and Din hasn’t even come up to your apartment - as much as you can’t keep your hands off one another, you haven’t had sex.  You’re not exactly sure why this is, except that you know Din is respectfully letting you take the lead, so it must be you.  It’s not that you don’t want to – Din remains the most delicious man you’ve ever set eyes on and just one look from him can sometime send your heart racing and pussy clenching.  The way he’s been gripping your waist tighter, coupled with the heat that radiates from his hands when he runs them down your back and over your ass when you say goodnight indicates Din wants you just as much as you want him.

But for some reason, you just can’t cross that threshold with him yet.  You don’t have any doubts about Din’s commitment or devotion, and you want him with a near constant ache between your legs, so what is your deal?  Do you just want this flirty, almost innocent phase of your relationship to last a little bit longer?  Is it that once you fuck him again, you know you won’t be able to stop and you don’t want sex to overshadow the bond you and Din have been rebuilding?  Or is that while you believe in him, your brain can’t stop reminding you that at the end of the day, Din’s promises are just words with no tangible assurance that they’ll be kept?  Are you a crazy person?

You need someone to talk you off the ledge – you’re counting on your friends to help you figure out why you’re being so ridiculous when you go out tonight for Jen’s belated birthday celebration.

---

Unfortunately, you never get the chance to ask your friends for help in analyzing your self-imposed celibacy because the dinner goes off the rails almost immediately.

It starts when your pre-dinner cocktails come and inexplicably included is a round of beer that none of you ordered.  Your waitress gives you an apologetic look and explains that a group of guys at a nearby table sent them.

It’s an obvious ploy so they can invite themselves over since none of you ordered beers, so you send the pints back over with a polite, thanks but no thanks.

They approach anyways.  There are five of them of varying ages, but all old enough to know better – and all imbued with too much liquid courage and arrogance to care that they’re intruding and unwelcomed.

Successively, the men come over individually or in pairs, as if their smaller numbers might put you and your friends at ease.  It doesn’t.  Your polite assertions that it’s a girls’ night and that you’re looking to spend time with only each other are purposefully ignored; as your dismissals get more insistent, so do their efforts.

You and your friends get no reprieve or peace from the group’s increasingly aggressive advances and inappropriate comments.  When one of the men gets too comfortable with putting his hand on your lower back, you recoil and an unsettling chill runs up your spine.

It feels calculated and unnerving – too aggressive to be considered eager, but just this side of menacing.  You suspect that your table’s would be suitors aren’t playing dumb; the decision to ignore you and your friends’ clear wishes and boundaries feels deliberate.  It’s almost as if once their rejection was assured, they thought it would be fun to mess with you, scare you.

When Lala runs back from the bathroom to report that one of them grabbed her on her way back, that’s when your general sense of annoyance and discomfort morphs into anxiousness.

While the obvious answer might be to leave, you all realize quickly that at least in the restaurant, you’re in public – you’re more than sure that if you attempt to leave, your group will be followed out of the building… right into a dimly lit, possibly empty street.

And since your harassers haven’t done anything for which you can lodge a formal complaint (there were no witnesses to Lala’s run in), the five of you remain trapped at your table, unsure of what to do next.

“I’m going to call Din,” you finally say - whenever something feels off or potentially unsafe, your instinct is to run to Din

“What can he do?”, asks Jen.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure he’ll have some ideas,” shrugging, you dial Din's number and hope he’ll pick up.  Luckily, he does so after the first ring, “Hey, pretty bird.”

You almost sigh in relief, “Din…”

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You can’t help but grin into the phone, “How do you know something’s wrong?”

“Just your voice,” Din says lightly.

Suddenly you're plagued with uncertainty.  Why did you call Din?  What could he do?  Would he be annoyed that you bothered him over something that really amounted to a 'bad feeling'?

“I don’t know if it’s anything,” chewing your bottom lip, you're hesitating when Din interrupts with the soothing tone and words that you need to hear.

“Baby, if you called, then it’s something to you.  And that means it’s something to me.  Tell me what it is.”

He’s always been so good at reassuring and grounding you - you continue with a little more certainty, “Well, you know how the girls and I were going out to dinner tonight?  Well, we’re at Toshi’s and there’s another table of just guys that have sort of been… harassing us?”

You can practically hear Din frown and you hurry to explain the series of events that led up to your call, finishing, “It’s not that they’ve threatened us or anything?  They just haven’t left us alone all night.  They know we’re not interested but keep coming by and making comments that make us feel uncomfortable like how they’ve already decided who’s going home with whom from their group?  One of them tried to grab Lala when she was going to the washroom and now none of us want to get up by ourselves and we’re starting to wonder what’s going to happen when we try to leave the restaurant.”

Din doesn’t miss a beat, “How many of them are there?”

“Five,” you grimace, “same as us - they’ve made that observation out loud already.”

“Okay, pretty bird, you did the right thing calling me.  Would you be okay putting me on speakerphone?”

As soon as you press the button and place the phone in the middle of the table, you and your friends lean in.  Din’s voice comes through calm and sure, “Hey everyone - I’m so sorry you’re going through this and that your evening has taken this turn.  I know it’s easier said then done, but don’t worry.  Everything will be okay - no one is going to bother you again and you’re all safe.  I know the owner of the building that Toshi’s in and I’m going to give him a call right after I hang up – building security will keep an eye on things until I get there.  I’ll bring a couple guys and we’ll be about ten minutes.  Is that okay?  Do you need me to bring anything?”

Everyone shakes their head and choruses a thank you to Din before he hangs up; you’re happy to see some relief settle over the faces of your friends.

It probably takes less than ten minutes, but the wait for Din feels long.  Your appetizers arrive but no one is really in the mood to eat; everyone remains kind of somber, though Bea and Katie do attempt a few light hearted jokes about how things would be so much easier if Toshi’s was a mob front.

Even before you see the look of recognition flash in Rory’s eyes at someone or something behind you, you feel him - your body untenses as if it senses that Din’s entered the room and it comes as no surprise when a few seconds later you feel the familiar curl of his strong hands around your waist.  You close your eyes and without turning around, lean back and completely relax against the warmth of Din’s hard chest.

“Hi, pretty bird,” he whispers in your ear, giving your temple a soft nuzzle with his nose.  Tilting your head back, you feel his soft lips brush over yours, “Hi, Din.”

Once he’s sure that you’re comfortable, Din gets straight down to business, “Is everyone okay?  I know which table of guys you were talking about – just the ones over my left shoulder?  None of them have bothered you since I hung up, right?”

Your friends confirm readily and Din continues, “I want you to know that you’re all safe.  You’ve been safe since the moment you called me.  But I know there’s a difference between knowing you’re safe and feeling you’re safe.”  You turn your head to plant a soft kiss to the base of Din’s neck upon hearing your own words used to comfort your friends.

“You don’t have to all look at once,” he chuckles, “but building security has had their eyes on you for the last ten minutes.  There are two guards by the bar, one at the stairs, another at the top, and a fifth by the bathrooms.  The manager of Toshi’s has also been alerted, so any move by those guys would have resulted in them being thrown out and it still will.”

You’re sure the entire restaurant hears the collective sigh of relief from your table.

“Now, the five of you – you’re in total control of what happens next, but there’s no rush or pressure to make any decisions.  If you’re done with this evening, we can leave right now and I’ll escort you upstairs where Jimmy and Woves will ensure you’re unbothered as you get in the cars.  We’ll personally drive you all home or anywhere else you might like to go.  But you’re also welcomed to stay if you feel comfortable enough to try and salvage your evening – again, you’re perfectly safe.  I’m here now and I’ll make sure of it.”

Contended, you see that all your friends are smiling, their shoulders and overall energy decidedly more relaxed; Jen even starts eating her calamari.  Din’s tone is authoritative, but accommodating – he’s here, here to take charge and take care of you and your friends, but just as importantly, letting you call the shots and doing what makes you feel comfortable instead of dictating the terms of your well being.

His next words surprise even you, “The other thing that is completely up to you as well, is what you want to do about those guys.  You can let bygones by bygones and pretend they never existed, because for all intents and purposes, they don’t exist to you anymore.  Or, if you would like them to be taught a lesson on… how to respect women?  We could do that too.  Completely up to you.”

You look up at Din in wonder.  Of course, you know what he is suggesting, but him being so forthcoming and transparent with your friends about this side of him?  It’s so… vulnerable.

“I think you all know what I would choose,” says Rory, frankly and without a hint of hesitation, “but honestly, Lala, you’re the one who got the biggest scare when that guy grabbed you.  What do you think?”

“Oh!  I mean… yeah.  That shit was inappropriate and no one should ever get away with thinking that was okay,” Lala says thoughtfully, “but I’m not the only one they got physical with.”

She looks pointedly at Din and he looks down at you, voice a little graver, “Did one of them touch you, pretty bird?”

You sigh and your face says it all, “It was just my lower back, Din.”

“Which one, baby?” 

Before you can decide if you really want to answer the question, someone else chimes in, “The one in the blue.”

“Bea!!!”  You look wide eyed at Bea and she makes a face like, What? No remorse at all.

It’s not that you care to spare any of those assholes from their deserved fate, but you don’t want Din to get more keyed up than he already is.

Trying to get things back on track, Katie waves her hand in the middle of the table and puts forth, “I think I might like to stay and eat.  I’m starving and I think I would prefer to wash away the memories of the last hour with some more pleasant ones.  And… my vote is that those dickheads get what’s coming to them.”

It seems like everyone agrees, but as the main courses start to arrive and the waiters comically try to arrange the plates on your cluttered table, Din looks down at you, “That okay with you, baby?”

Your heart melts at how he’s still deferring to you, even though you know from the way his fists clenched at Bea’s words that he likely has his own preference on how he’d like to handle things.  You appreciate the effort he’s making to let you lead - you appreciate him.

Nodding, you whisper, “Thank you for coming.”

“I’ll always come for you, pretty bird,” Din whispers back.

“Your pretty bird.”

Din is doing his best to do things differently.  He’s taken into account all the things you’ve talked about over the last two months in regards to him letting you into his world and not shielding you from things that might be less than innocent – he’s unsure if he’s doing it right but he knows you’re worth the effort, “Mine?”

You look at him with soft, but sure eyes, “Yours.”

He practically growls, “Mine,” before slotting his mouth over yours.  The kiss starts sweet and gentle, but you quickly deepen it to show Din some of the urgency that’s been building since he arrived.  He returns your affections with a similar insistence and possessively tightens his hold around you.  When you finally pull away, it’s with a gaze of devotion that you shyly drop before snuggling into his shoulder, fitting comfortably into your favourite nook beneath his jaw.  Din places an affectionate kiss to your hair and murmurs, “Eat,” - gently turning you towards your food.  Your heart fills with joy when you look at your friends - for the most part they look like they’re enjoying themselves, eating and chatting as if this were a regular evening.  Din did that, you smile to yourself.  Happily, you turn your attention to your plate, mindful of Din’s reassuring presence and the ever-present hands on your hips that steady you on your stool.

---

By dessert, things feel back to normal - just a regular fun night out with your friends.  The only reminder that anything was amiss earlier is Din standing sentry at your table.  Though his presence is perfunctory, that hasn’t stopped Din from joining in on the conversation and joking around with your friends.  You’re practically gleeful seeing them get along so well – knowing that in some ways, Din has won back the hearts of your friends the way he has yours. 

After the last plates have been cleared and the last of the drinks drank, Din wraps his arms around you and plants a loving kiss to the top of your head, “Ready to go?”

“Anyone need to use the restroom?” He winks at Lala, who punches him in the arm and laughs.  You beam, proud that your strong protector’s warm blanket of safety has enveloped your friends and put them at such ease that they can now laugh off events that were so upsetting only an hour ago.

“Yep!  Right after we settle the bill,” chirps Bea.

“Oh, uhhhh…” Din scratches the back of his neck and avoids eye contact with your friends, “I took care of that already.”

“DIN!”

You don’t even need to join in, your friends ready to reprimand your boyfriend without any assistance from you.

Din puts his hands up in surrender, “Look, I settled it over the phone on the way over!  I wasn’t sure if you guys would want to leave right away, so just in case, I paid so there wouldn’t be any unnecessary delay.  I’m… sorry?”

“Oh. That was smart,” concedes Rory.

“And incredibly thoughtful,” you add, smiling appreciatively at your considerate man.  The truth is, you’re prodigiously proud of Din’s display – he’s smart, strategic, decisive, but never arrogant; he’s good at this.

“Alright, pretty bird.  You lead the way, okay?  Jimmy and Woves will be right outside to get you.  I’ll bring up the rear.”

You nod and do as Din says without question.  As you’re climbing the stairs towards the restaurant exit, you spy from the corner of your eye that table of guys also getting up to leave and a (very small) part of you feels sorry for them. 

Upstairs, your relief and happiness at seeing Jimmy and Woves is second to only how you felt when you saw Din earlier.  They hug you cheerfully and greet your friends with protective warmth and familiarity before ushering you all into Din’s truck after your friends say they don’t mind squishing together in the back.  You notice that when Din comes up, he’s followed by who you assume are the five guys from building security that he mentioned earlier.  They line up to block off the sidewalk in what you recognize as a flanking position – they’re there to cut-off any escape routes.

Oh.

Din walks over and opens his passenger door, leaning in to give you a quick kiss; with a look you can only describe as apprehension, he whispers, “Pretty bird, you don’t have to look.”

You know what he’s saying.  This is the part of him and his life that he’s always shielded you from – a type of violence and barbarity that he deems you too ‘good’ for; he won’t hide it from you anymore, but it doesn’t mean you need to have a front row seat.

Kissing him back fiercely, you need Din to know that he has nothing to worry about - there’s nothing you can see that will change how you feel about him, who you know him to be.  You think his slightly dazed expression when he checks in to makes sure everyone in the backseat is doing okay means your message was received.

Through the still open car door, you hear a growing commotion and raised voices; via the windshield you see that the offending group of men have emerged from the restaurant and are now being roughly handled and herded by Jimmy and Woves into an alley.  Though they outnumber them, the guys from the restaurant are no match for the two Mandos’ size, strength and skill; with the additional intimidating presence of building security, they have no choice to comply – but it doesn’t look like they’re doing so without loud protest and undeserved indignation.

The last thing you hear before Din closes the passenger side door is Woves laughing, “You dumb fucks really don’t know whose girl you were messing with, do you?”

You don’t watch. 

Not because you don’t want to see Din when he’s like this or even because you’re especially squeamish, you just don’t really see any reason to.  The minimal sounds that you can hear through the door coupled with your friends’ gasps and reaction commentary tell you enough of what’s happening in the alleyway.

You know it’s over when you see Jimmy reach into the car in front of you and hand Din a towel to clean his hands right before he walks over to his own driver side door.  Quickly, you whisper to your friends, “He’s going to be anxious that we saw him like that, okay?”  It’s probably unnecessary, but you give them a look that that conveys how important it is that Din feels comfortable about having shown them this facet of his character, knowing how difficult it was for him.  You don’t care what happened or what he was doing outside of this truck only a minute ago, all you care about is that Din extended himself, opened himself and this part of his life up to you and even your friends – you want him to know he's appreciated for his efforts.

When Din gets in the truck, you can tell he’s uneasy - so without saying anything, you take his right hand and place it on your upper thigh, closing your legs and trapping his fingers between.  You then wrap yourself around his arm and look up at him with tenderness - you want him to know that you’re not afraid of these hands.  You adore these hands.

Upon understanding your feelings, Din’s entire stance relaxes with relief and gratitude; he leans in to press his lips to yours, sealing in his returned affection.  No words are exchanged, none needed.

It’s Bea’s deadpan that breaks the silence.

“So… is this what you meant when you said you could ‘take care’ of Gideon for me?  Because, I would have taken you up on it.”

The entire car fills with laughter and even Din can’t help but chuckle – you’re glad to see any remaining tension he’s held onto evaporating as he realizes that your friends are still comfortable around him.

And though he no longer worries that they may think so, Din still wishes to make sure that you and your friends don’t view him as some type of violent thug – a monster, “Just so you know, none of those guys are severely injured; no one has to go to the hospital.  They’re just… banged up a little.  Not trying to ruin anyone’s life or anything – just wanted to teach them a little lesson like you wanted.”

“What were you guys doing at the end?” Lala looks genuinely curious.

“Oh, you saw that, eh?  Yeah, we made them hand over their IDs and we took down their addresses, just to keep an eye on them for the next week or so.  Plus, maybe a Mando or two shows up unexpectedly to remind them not to forget the important lesson they learned here tonight.”

“Dannnngggg, Djarin.  You’re cold,” marvels Katie, half amused, half impressed.

“Well,” Din voices lowers, serious, “I don’t take very kindly to men who take pleasure in making women feel uncomfortable.”

Your friends nod appreciatively.  You lean over the centre console and press a soft kiss to the pulse of Din’s throat; the movement forces his hand to slide a little further up your inner thigh and you smile against his skin when you feel his Adam’s apple bob beneath your lips.

“Still had to wail on that guy in blue a little though, huh?”

Din catches Rory’s eye in the rearview mirror and sees her playful smirk, returning it with one of his own, “Well, you know.  It takes some people a little longer to understand the lesson than others.”

The car fills with a lighthearted laughter again and then that’s the end of any talk regarding what transpired tonight.  The men that harassed you and your friends earlier this evening and their comeuppance now a thing of the past – nothing good can come of thinking or talking about it anymore. 

As Din pulls the car away from the curb, you can’t help but gaze at him in admiration; there’s no need to tell him that he was impressive or that his display of restraint was commendable - you know that he didn’t do any of it for accolades.  Din did what he always does: protect and uphold his duty to make things safer for others.

Your friends chat comfortably in the back seat as Din drops them off at home, one by one.  You don’t join in the conversation – instead, you lean against Din’s arm and soak in the warmth of his hand in between your legs, focusing on the way he steers the car one-handedly.  The showcase of power that he exudes with just his left arm, open palm deftly pressing against the rotating steering wheel and the way the veins on his forearm flex when he power steers the truck through tight turns has you practically drooling.  You’re no longer able to deny the hot sticky desire that’s pooling just a few inches from where Din’s right hand currently resides.

At every stoplight, you notice how the streetlamps catch the handsome profile of the man next to you and wonder again at the goodness he exudes.  Even knowing now all that he’s done in the past and having bore witness to some of that brutality tonight, you want to tell Din that you see no viciousness in him; that it’s easy to see past his ferocity and to the good that drives him, to the decency that’s the core of who he is.  You want to tell Din that you know him - you want to show him that you know him.

The ride to your place is quiet, but comfortable – filled with light touches, soft looks and even softer kisses.  The serenity in the car is quite opposite to how you’re feeling inside - it’s nearly overwhelming now, how much you want this man.  Never having had a chance to talk it through with your friends tonight, you’re still not sure what your reticence to sleep with Din was, but whatever the reason was, it’s moot now.  Tonight, Din not only showed you the measure of the man you’ve always known him to be, but the man he’s become for you.  So many of his actions and efforts tonight, both overt and nuanced, took into consideration the feelings you had laid bare for him over the last two months.  Every doubt, insecurity, hurt that you had given voice to regarding Din’s secrets, making decisions for you, not trusting you – he had taken each to heart and you saw first hand tonight that he was never going to put you in the same position that had driven the two of you apart almost a year ago.

You don’t expect Din to be perfect, lord knows you’re not – but you can trust him to care, to look after your heart above all else.

When he turns off the engine, Din looks over at you with some returned hesitation, as if he’s still not sure how the events of the evening might have impacted you and where the two of you stand.  Bringing your hands up to scratch Din’s facial scruff the way he likes, you kiss him with surety, knowing what you want and more confident in your feelings for him than you’ve ever been, “Din, do you think Jimmy and Woves might be willing to drive your truck back to Mando’s?”

He nods, eyes still uncertain, “Sure, pretty bird.”

Your own eyes bright and sure enough for the both of you and you shyly offer, “So you can come up and spend the night?”

The smile that breaks out across Din’s face lights up all his handsome feature and takes your breath away; the thought strikes you that you want to always be the reason he smiles like this. 

Din helps you out of the car before handing his car keys over to Jimmy and you float through your goodbyes to the Mandos for the night, but remember to thank them again and again for coming the rescue of you and your friends.  Their heartfelt hugs remind you again of the joy you’ve always felt at being accepted as one of theirs and you’re so grateful to be familiar with that feeling yet again.

The kiss that begins in your elevator is all consuming and hungry, open-mouthed and full of anticipation.  Din licks into your mouth like a man starved - you match every stroke and brush of his tongue with a more ravenous one of your own.  You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself, even if you wanted to – you need to touch him, grab him, hold him, never be apart from him again.  Din’s own large hands roam your body, possessed by some primeval need to explore, mark and claim – the desperation in his touch makes staying quiet an impossible feat.  You moan and simper shamelessly, body throbbing with want.

Your joint passion carries the tangle of your bodies through your front door, into a place where the last held memory of the two of you was one of heartbreak.  You erase it with your desire for one another tonight, letting your renewed love and whispers of affirmation and devotion wipe the slate clean – you’re making new memories now.

Pulling back for what feels like your first breath of air since you walked into your building, you cup Din’s face in your hands and nearly gasp at the tenderness and love you see in his eyes.  You hope he can see the same in yours, “Din.  You let me see.  You let me see you in that alleyway tonight.”

He nods into your palms, rubbing his rough scruff against your delicate skin, “And you didn’t run away, pretty bird.”

Smile bright, you declare yourself as his, “Why would I?  Why would I run away from a man who stands up for what’s right?  Who comes to the aid of those he cares for with no hesitation?  Who care for their safety in every way that matters?  Why would I run away from a good man?”

No words.  There are no words in existence that can convey the depth of Din’s feelings for you.  He’s overwhelmed by your openness, your sweetness, and yes, your goodness.  After everything the two of you have shared over these past several months, he’s made it his priority to be forthright with you and not shield you from the truth of his world, no matter how ugly - he had faith in your love, and it was time he showed it.  But even so, there had been a part of him that worried despite your pure intentions, when actually faced with the darkness that was sometimes a very real part of his life, you might find it too much.

But tonight, as always, you proved to him that you were more than he could have ever dreamed.  Not only did you not run away from him, here you are, readily telling him that you still believe in him.  In his goodness.  Fuck, he loves you.  And though he’s promised you that he would no longer think himself undeserving of you, he still can’t quite figure out what he’s done in his life so that he does. 

He supposes he will just have to do what he can to deserve you from this point forward.

“Need you, baby,” Din groans against your neck, humming into that sweet spot just below your earlobe; adding, when he feels you shiver, “Don’t worry, pretty girl – we’ll go slow.”

As Din trails his lips down your neck, slow and sensual, you tilt your head to give him more access and sigh, “But what if I don’t want it slow, Din? What if I want it rough, daddy?”

Now it’s Din’s turn to shiver.  He growls against the hollow of your collarbone before nipping at the delicate skin there with his teeth, “Then I give my girl what she wants.”

Authoritatively guiding you backwards towards the big balcony window, Din undresses you without ceremony as you cross your darkened living room.  The trail of your discarded clothes tells a tale of impatience and desperation, and when you’re finally pressed against the cool glass, it’s with a firmness that makes you gasp as much as the sudden press of the frigid surface to your naked body.

Din’s eyes, blown wide and dark with lust, devour you.  Already hard and panting just from the exertion of stripping you of your clothes, now that he has you bare and gorgeous before him after so long, Din can’t imagine how he ever thought he’d go slow.

He descends upon you - hands groping your hips and ass harder than the softness of those curves deserve, but you whine into Din’s mouth to express your approval.  Din smiles a wolfish grin against your lips before he parts them with his tongue to consume you again and you willingly accept his frantic and punishing kisses.  The cold glass that you’re being pressed against doesn’t feel quite so cold anymore - you’re warm all over despite being naked and only getting hotter as the searing heat of Din radiates off of him in waves, fueling your own desire.  Greedy and shameless, you claw him for more, more, more even as your arousal drips and coats your inner thighs.

“Need you, daddy,” you whimper, hands reaching out to feverishly relieve Din of his clothes; he steps back to tear his shirt over his head and undoes his belt with a fluid flick of his thumb.  Pussy thumping, your mouth waters as your eyes rake over the perfect male specimen before you.  If possible, everything is bigger than you remember – Din’s shoulders span wide and impossibly broad, framing the thickness of his expansive chest; it calls to you in the dark, hard but inviting.  His arms are like tree trunks, powerful even in their current dormancy - you eye the tight muscles currently flexing as Din’s hands itch to touch you again.  As you ogle lower, the sight of Din’s softened stomach makes your entire being melt; before you is evidence of a hard man who has fought and earned his right to a gentler life.  You don’t dwell on this tender moment however, because your eyes can’t help but trail further down to the already hard, girthy cock that bobs between your bodies.  Mesmerized, an involuntary whine escapes your lips; you lick them as your body instinctively arches towards Din’s, pussy practically crying to be filled.

With the reflexes of a hungry wolf pouncing on his prey, Din’s hand flies out at your needy whimper and pins you at the base of your neck with his paw of a hand; though not squeezing, he nevertheless holds firm your body as he pushes you flush against the window.

You gasp at this display of roughness, but it’s Din’s next words, huskily growled as he towers over you, that have you buckling at the knees:

“Did that guy really think he could touch what’s mine?”

You shake your head the best you can while still in Din’s grip and bite your lower lip, looking at Din with a coquettish look, “No one can touch me but you, daddy.”

“What else, pretty bird?  What else am I the only one allowed to do?”

You pretend to think, “You’re the only one who can kiss me.”

“Here?” Din murmurs as he bends to kiss your neck tenderly – a marked contrast from the hard grasp he still has on its base; at your breathy moans, Din takes his time nipping softly from the sensitive spot under your ear, down the column of your throat and back again.

Din’s barely touching you and you’re already vibrating with need.  “Mmmhhmmm,” you answer his question with the lightest of sighs.

“Where else, sweet girl?”

“On my mouth, baby.  Only you can have my mouth, Din.”

Din groans at your words and seals his lips to yours.  You open eagerly for him and his tongue enters your mouth to claim you brusquely, kissing you harder, deeper.  His hand releases your neck, but Din keeps you pressed against the window with the heaviness of his body, slotting his knee between your legs and groaning a throaty roar when your slick wets his thigh.  “Dirty girl,” he hums as he moves his to worship your breasts, cupping them both in his meaty hands and thumbing your pert peaks. “What about these pretty tits, baby? Is anyone else allowed to touch these perfect tits?” he buzzes against your lips.

The sound you make is near pornographic as Din starts to grope your breasts - pulling, twisting and teasing so you dissolve beneath his touch, “Only you, daddy!  Only you can play with my tits… oh f-fuck.  And only you can suck on my nipples, daddy.”

Din takes your direction to heart - lowering his mouth to kiss your breasts, sucking and decorating your soft flesh with marks of his devotion.  You roll your hips at the sensation, urgent in your own search for some friction, but your body is jolted from its lustful efforts when you feel Din take one of your nipples between his teeth and tug, “Yes, yes, yes, Din. Just like that…”

“You like that, pretty girl?  Is this what has you moaning like a slut?” Din mumbles as he moves to give your other breast the same treatment.  The abandoned nipple is soon comforted by Din’s furious and equally talented fingers - rolling and tweaking, pinching and pulling on your hardened tip until you start to tear up from the overwhelming sensation.  It’s almost too much for you to handle and you let loose a string of unabashedly needy ramblings, “Oh god, yes, please, Din.  Right there, oh yes, daddy, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it, that’s it… Din, Din, Din!  Yes! That’s what your little slut needs, oh yes, yes. Please.”

Mindlessly, you start to grind down on him, so lost in the pleasure Din’s giving, you grab onto the soft curls of his hair for some semblance of stability.  Spurred on by your near incoherent babbling, Din’s hands move down to your ass and he lays down a sudden hard spank across your backside that has you gasping in surprise.  Grabbing a cheek in each hand, he stills your movements and hums, his face still buried in your chest, “Is there something you need, sweet thing?  Something only daddy can do for you?”

Whimpering from the still reverberating ring of Din’s smack on your ass, you eek out, “Only you can make me feel good, daddy!” Almost contrite, you plead, “Need you to touch my cunt, please, please.  Fill her up, please, Din.  This pussy is yours, no one else’s.  She needs you.”

Din looks up and the sight of you already wrecked above him nearly sends him to the moon.  He almost gives up on his assigned task of being rough and unforgiving with your lithe body – all he wants to do is kneel at your altar and venerate the needy mess he’s reduced you to.  How long could he conceivably petition you to let him pray, awestruck, to this goddess above him with her half-closed eyes and dirty thoughts spilling from her perfect pouty lips?  Forever, he hopes.  He could love you forever. 

Except you want him to touch you now.  With no choice but to obey, Din runs his hands from your ass down along the back of your legs and then over the top of your thighs, inching closer to your crying core.  Mouth still occupied with sucking, nipping and licking between your peaked nipples, Din’s hand knuckles over your slit before sliding the tips of his dexterous fingers through your drenched folds, “Look at you, already soaked.  Who is my good girl so wet for?”

Sighing from relief, you smile dreamily, “You, daddy.  This pussy only gets so wet for you.”

Din’s response is to sink two of his thick fingers in to the hilt with one swift motion; you cry out from the stretch of him, having nearly forgotten how he fills you so completely.  Your body hasn’t forgotten – flooding Din’s hand with a fresh wave of slick, your pussy pulses around his fingers as if to say welcome home.  He pumps into you with the gratitude of a man whose been denied the light of day, resigned to blindly feeling his way in the dark and is now being offered the salvation of the brightness and warmth of sunshine.  His sunshine.

“Still so fucking tight, baby,” Din grumbles, mouth still full of your heaving breasts.

“She missed you, Din,” you confess as your arms tighten around his neck, hands fisting his wavy hair.

Din bites down on the pillowy soft flesh that fills his mouth and growls, “Missed her more,” before increasing the intensity of his movements; the wet slapping sounds of his worship drowned out only by the wail you let loose when Din angles his hand so he can press his thumb down on your throbbing clit.

When Din’s other hand comes down, open palmed and harsh against your ass, you scream from the pleasure of the sting and it launches you towards your first orgasm.  You’re trapped between Din’s two monster hands: one that’s thrusting and curling to your deepest, most sacred parts and the other kneading and groping your cheek so hard, you welcome the hand marks you know you’ll find there tomorrow.

“Open your eyes, pretty bird,” Din commands, “Want to see you when you come.”  You open your eyes at his rough tone, but the eyes that meet yours are soft, a sea of devotion, veneration, love.  The very sight pushes you over the crest of your own pleasure and you shatter – chanting daddy, daddy, daddy, as you flutter.

He fucks you through it with words of praise that only serve to prolong your high – Such a good girl.  My pretty slut looks so perfect when she comes.  Never going to let you go again, bun.

You’re still catching your breath when you feel Din slip out of your sopping hole; you barely have time to bemoan the loss when you feel Din spin you around to face the window.  In the darkness of your apartment, illuminated by the brightness of the moon, you see the reflection of yourself and Din perfectly - the sight has a fresh wave of honey leaking down your leg.

“Look how fucking gorgeous you look, baby,” Din murmurs in your ear as you take in your fucked out expression and the dark obsidian of Din’s eyes as they travel your naked body; his hands roam every inch of you as he maneuvers your body into the position of his liking.

Spreading your legs to make room for himself, Din places your hands against the clear glass so you can brace yourself, before pushing gently on your lower back to arch your ass out to him.  Taking a moment to admire the view before him, he notches himself at your entrance and then curls over your body, hands covering yours, “Gonna fuck you now, bunny.”

You hum, low and welcoming as Din pushes in, his girth presses its attention against your warm walls and your cunt quivers as she remembers who he is.  You wiggle your ass playfully, beckoning him in further, which earns you another smack to your ass that has you clenching and gushing.

“Greedy little slut,” chuckles Din darkly, but he gives you what you want and thrusts in, bottoming out and punching all the air out of your lungs.  The two of you stay like this as you get used to him again - you feel so full, needy, loved.  When you tilt your head back, Din captures your mouth in a hungry kiss; you invite him in and moan as his insistent tongue glides over yours and leads it in a passionate dance, pausing only for air.

“Daddy, need you to move now, please,” you sigh through your oxygen deprived daze.

And move he does.  Thrust after thrust, drag after drag, Din’s cock moves inside you and lays claim to the heaven he’s been dreaming of for longer than he can remember.  He sets a steady but fervent pace, gritting out dirty words of praise in your ear that have you pushing back against him for more, even as your body screams at you to run from how good it feels:

My perfect slut, taking me so good.

Wish you could see how you’re creaming around me, pretty bird.

This needy cunt is so tight, it’s choking my cock.

You had forgotten how vocal Din can be and how much you love it, crying back your own song of filth and desperation:

Daddy, fuck, daddy – no one fucks me like you!

Love taking your fat cock so deep, baby.

Wreck this pussy, Din – it’s yours.

You move with him, meeting every drive of Din’s length with a downwards bounce of your own so that he bottoms out and taps your sweetest parts every time.  Din’s dirty words, hot breath, and nipping teeth on your shoulders push you closer and closer to the edge.  But it’s the wrap of his protective stance, the curving of his large frame over your smaller one, and the overwhelming feeling of Din taking care of your pleasure that has you closing in on your summit.  Feeling you tighten around him, Din drops one of his hands and takes yours with it, cupping your heat together.  He presses your delicate fingers to your clit, and with his larger ones on top of yours, draws perfect tandem figure eights.  You’re so close, so terribly close, and you whine your predicament back to Din.  He coos back reassuringly as he continues to fuck you hard, pushing your pulsing clit into the pads of your fingers as his larger ones hold them firm, “Let go, pretty bird.”

It’s the sight of Din’s hand that’s still pressing yours to the window that sends you toppling over the edge.  Large and meaty with bruises and scraped knuckles that burn bright in the darkness, each minor injury a reminder of the violence and damage that its capable of inflicting and that it did inflict tonight – to protect, attend, avenge.  And yet that same hand holds you steady, cradles yours with care and devotion.  Din’s yours like he’s no one else’s.  You’re safe and loved and untouchable because you’re his.  You cry out as much as you come.

Then he’s punching up into you, chasing after his own high to those same musical cries, now incoherent and babbling.  Din’s own words somehow soft and sweet, belying the punishment he’s doling out to your cunt:

Love being so deep inside you, baby.

You were made for me, pretty bird.

Don’t want to be anywhere except with you.

You’re spent and limp, just a worn-out fuck doll for Din to use, but you hold yourself up for him, wanting him to join you in your euphoria.  And when his pace gets sloppy and sweat starts to dot his brow, Din’s laboured pants punctate the softest of his pleas: Do you know how good you feel, baby?  What you do to me?  How much I love fucking you?  How much I love you??

Your melodic refrain of I do, I do, I do sings Din off the cliff, the repetition of those two little words conjuring up a bright flash of an image of you in white, walking towards him down a petal strewn aisle and he comes with an ear-splitting roar; painting your insides before collapsing on top of you, pressing you both to the now foggy window. 

You do.  You do know beyond a doubt how much Din loves you.  The two of you trade quiet vows and promises as Din regains his strength while holding you tight.  You stay knit together, melted and molded to one another as he softens inside you – bathed in the pureness of moonlight and wading in the pool of your love.

“I love you, Din.”

“I love you more, pretty bird.”

Locked in your loving embrace, having been apart for too long, neither of you is in a hurry to let the other go – even though you both know you have forever.  Din’s strong, protective arms band around your chest and waist, his calloused but gentle fingers lace through your graceful ones that hold his just as faithfully.  Your soft breath fans over his lips whenever Din lifts his head slightly to look once again at the beauty before him.

“Din?” you whisper, smile playful.

“Hmmmm?” He mumbles, spent, into your hair.

“I think I might want it slow now.”

Din looks down at the heaven he holds, knowing he’ll forever cater to you, devote himself to you, unable to ever deny you anything - even if you didn’t have the sweetest, most beguiling smirk on your face right now, “Anything my pretty bird wants.” 

You loll your head back against Din’s shoulder and watch your reflection in the glass shudder as Din detangles one of his hands from yours and slithers teasingly to your core – gushing as he begins to draw slow, lazy circles over your still swollen clit. 

---

Later, at midnight, when you and Din are out walking Al, your phone starts buzzing incessantly.  You chuckle when you look over the messages coming in over the group chat.

Rory [12:03 AM]: So, we gave you until midnight.  You and Din are done fucking right?

Bea [12:04 AM]: RORY!

Katie [12:04 AM]: Omigod, Rory!

Rory [12:05 AM]: What????

Jen [12:05 AM]: Jesus.  What Rory means is, we hope you get this message before the morning.

Lala [12:06 AM]: Because we want to invite Din to brunch!

Rory [12:07 AM]: It’s not really an invitation because he has to come.  We won’t take no for an answer.

Katie [12:07 AM]: We want to thank him for helping us out tonight!

Jen [12:07 AM]: Tell him brunch is on us too. Since he paid for our dinners.

Bea [12:08 AM]: Do you think we should ask Jimmy and Woves, too?  Technically they helped as well.

Lala [12:09 AM]: Or another time? Maybe this brunch should be all about Din.

Bea [12:09 AM]: Yeah, you’re right!  Another time then – we owe Din a bunch of brunches.

Rory [12:10 AM]: Right!  He has to come to all the brunches for the next month at least.  Unless… like, he’s too injured… you know, from all the sex.

Katie [12:11 AM]: I swear to god, Rory!!

Looking up at Din, who’s already smiling down at you, you beam, “You’ve been summoned to brunch tomorrow.”  You show him your phone and he laughs, “They don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but it’s a big deal to them, you know?  And me, too.”

“They’re not… put off by what they saw?”

Your heart melts at Din’s hesitation.  He must still not understand how clearly his virtue and honour shines through.  You’ll have to spend the remainder of your days showing him.

Looping your arms around Din’s waist, you look up at him in adoration, declaring with all your heart, “Never.  They feel perfectly safe with you.  Same for me, Din.  I’ll always feel safe with you.”

Din looks back down at you, heart full and in awe, forever grateful to whatever mystical force brought you into his life, “And you always will be, pretty bird.”

You believe him.

Thank you to every single person who has read this series - I really can't express what it's like to know you were as invested in Din and Pretty Bird as me 🥹🥹. Tagging a few people who I hope will enjoy and find this ending to be worthy of their interest in the story 😘😘🥰🥰:

@tuquoquebrute @furiousmushroom @cheekychaos28 @72scsuze @nerdieforpedro

@toobsessedsstuff @whirlwindrider29 @inept-the-magnificent @mellymbee @that1nerd-20

@hipabbster23 @bitccchmood @bigbutchenergee @rainbowcat164 @the-strawberrythief

@johnssherlock221 @misstokyo7love @vivian-pascal @florxdexcerezo @fanficlover1414

@rarachelchel @heartbrokenlilbitch-nef @jeewrites @sunnytuliptime @kulekehe

@bebsjo @yopossum @cartonkid1200 @rav3n-pascal22 @sjc7542

@xxx-silhouette-xxx @pedroswife69 @kilamonster @mandoshoney

[thatsmiggles]

The dracula case.

Richard chase , aka The Vampire of Sacramento. He was nicknamed this, as he drunk the blood of his victims and cannibalized their remains. Everyone in his life knew he was mentally ill, even his own mother! Please proceed at your own risk, as this case mentions children, the dismemberment of people, etc. It may be a little bad, this is my second time making this type of post!

Richard Trenton Chase was born on May 23rd in 1950, he was an American spree killer who murdered six people in Sacramento, California. He was allegedly abused by his mother whilst growing up, though his father also physically disciplined him but that was usual for the time. By the age of 10, he already checked out for the MacDonald triad, which is bed wetting, animal torture and fire setting. Chase realized very young about his dark urges, though not ever being able to be in with a girl due to his impotence, he in adolescence then became an alcoholic with a chronic drug problem. Chase, keep in mind, was a paranoid schizophrenic, moving out from his mother because he personally believed his mother was trying to poison him. He moved in with a couple friends, they often complained that he smelt of weed, though he never cared, paying no attention to guests, walking around naked, they eventually got tired of him, telling him to move out. But he refused, so they moved out instead.

Whilst alone, he began to torture animals, he would dismember these animals, making them into milkshakes blended into cola. He had a belief that his heart was shrinking, that it wasn't beating correctly since his childhood, he believed consuming blood and the animal remains would help him from not dying.

In 1975, he was institutionalized due to his blood poisoning from injecting animal blood into his veins. He scared the patients horribly, even the nurses, they gave him the nickname "Dracula", being described as awfully bizarre. He was then prescribed medication, being taken out from the ward in 1976 after being deemed safe (My god, were they wrong.) Anyways, he was placed in the care of his mother. His mother, the cruel woman she was, got tired of her son, kicking him practically out, forbidding him to take his anti psychotic medication, claiming that it made him boring, dulling his personality, like a zombie, even though advised not to by the doctors. So she instead got him his own apartment. When he got his own apartment, he began to eat dogs and birds, hanging them up. Chase's neighbor, said she saw cats and dogs enter the apartment then never go out, so she never knew what happened to them, though she could have reported it, as it was not allowed for them to have animals.

The killings

He used a .22 Automatic handgun to kill his victims, first was a drive by shooting, then the rest were home invasions. After shooting his victims, he would mutilate, drinking the blood, he would engage within necrophilia with female victims only. The victims include : An unidentified woman ( Shot, but missed ) Ambrose Griffin, 51 ( Shot in the chest. ) An unidentified boy, 12 ( Shot, missed. ) Teresa, 22 ( Shot twice in the head, then once in the hand! She was repeatedly stabbed, her organs removed, cut off her nipples, forcing her to eat dog feces, partially eaten at. Also necrophilia was done to her body, three months pregnant. ) Daniel Meredith, 51 ( Shot, then mutilated. ) Evelyn Miroth, 38 ( Slashed throat, shot, disemboweled, partially eaten,  failed to take out one of her eyes, engaged in necrophilia. ) Jason 6, ( Shot, then brutally mutilated once dead. ) David 1, ( Shot, eaten partially and mutilated. )

Facts

In 1977, Chase was arrested in Lake Tahoe, he had a bucket of blood, also guns in his car. He managed to convince an officer it was just from an animal, so there was no report made. ( He claimed it was cows blood, specifically. ) Witnesses saw him with a dog once, though the dog was never recovered so they truly never saw it again, so they never knew what happened to it, this is the same time the lake incident had happened. He had delusions of an alien force, and insisted he only ate humans because the outside forces were going to steal his blood! He thought his heart was shrinking as I mentioned, so ingesting blood also helped him from not dying. He had schizophrenia noticeable in his childhood, but it worsened throughout when he got older. He had a stable life at 20, but it crumbled. He then got into the ward, though he had killed one before, his mother insisted and weared him off his medication, making him go onto a whole spree. He also had hypochondria. Neighbours heard him shooting at the walls, he claimed it was the voices he had heard. He lied about his mental illnesses, so he could get his weapon of choice, it happened after he had purchased it. He killed small puppies, trying to steal a large dog, but luckily, he failed. His sister was afraid of him. In prison, he spoke about ufos and nazis, being afraid of them, wanting to get a gun to protect himself, he also claimed to be jewish, drawing the star of david on his forehead. He believed the prison leagues were in contact with the Nazis, trying to kill him with the food. He was sentenced to death by , but instead, at 11:05 am, Decemeber 26th, 1980, he killed himself from an overdose when he was hoarding his medication. The reasons truly were unknown. more may be added later! hope you enjoyed. :)

[chaoticace2005]

List of WHERE THE FUCK DID VAGGIE COME FROM?? (and also other exorcists)

1. She was heaven-born: ichor as blood is limited to heaven-born, Adam named her, military schools from being exorcist, picked up Spanish elsewhere (a Winner maybe? We haven’t seen any other angels speak Spanish yet so…)

2. She was a human soul: ichor is in all beings living in heaven (as seen with Adam- but he may be a special case), Adam renamed her, military skills possibly due to past life?, where she learned Spanish

3. She is a human soul, and old info about Vaggie remains canon- she’s Salvadoran and died in like 2014

4. ^ That was a lie she told Charlie, and she either had a different life or doesn’t remember/have one on earth at all

5. She’s a human soul that died and went to heaven but lost her memories (either as all Winners do or just after she became an exorcist.) She didn’t have a name so Adam gave her one. Spanish was something she retained

6. She’s a human soul CHOSEN from Earth to be an exorcist. She didn’t die (maybe she was close though?) but they did take her from her life there and washed her memories away.

7. She went to heaven either by 5 or 6 and didn’t lose her memories. But she was forced to confirm and essentially take on a new identity.

8. She was spawned in some exorcist factory in heaven and that’s why Adam named her.

9. “Vaggie” WAS her name on Earth- Adam was her mom.

10. Adam actually went down to Earth and forced some random mother to name her daughter Vaggie because it would be “fucking hilarious.”

11. He actually didn’t name her, but Vaggie reminded him of Vagina so he started pronouncing it like that.

12. Adam laid eggs and she hatched from those.

13. She’s mothman’s daughter (the cryptid, not the icky douchebag demon.) She was raised on earth but because of her elevated status she became an exorcist when she died.

14. ALL exorcists are mothman’s children.

15. Exorcists are random birds picked from Earth after they complete a challenge.

16. Seraphims just pluck feathers out and boom: exorcist.

17. She wasn’t an exorcist. Adam just gaslit her really hard and also the stick up her ass caused her blood to change color so it resembles ichor. (Ghost written by Angel)

18. All exorcists were created at once by the angels. They all grew up and trained together.

19. Once you reach a certain level of the military on earth you become an exorcist when you die (so maybe it’s a free pass and you don’t have to be “good” to be an exorcist, which explains why some of them are so bent on violence. They didn’t have to go through the same screening as everyone else.)

20. They were conditioned to be like this, with Heaven propaganda and working in Hell made them so cold to demons, and having gone through a rigid military program.

21. They spawned fully formed whenever heaven needs more exorcists.

22. Vaggie isn’t real. She’s an illusion of their conscience. The real exorcist was in us all along.

23. Universe saw Charlie was lonely. Universe said, “here girlfriend.” What’s her backstory? They don’t know either.

24. Their blood is actually PISS and they’re spawned form porta-potties left outside too long.

25. Exorcists are people who died by lemons. When life gives people lemons (and kills them), they turn their blood into lemonade.

26. A glow stick factory in Heaven exploded due to Adam. This was the byproduct. Sera had no idea what to do with them so she gave them to Adam as punishment.

[usafphantom2]

Blackbird pilot recalls when his SR-71 Flew so Fast that he and his RSO Landed at Beale AFB almost a Day Before They Took Off from Kadena AB

SR-71 Pilot tells the story of when his Blackbird flew So Fast that He and his RSO arrived at Beale AFB almost a Day Before They Left Kadena AB

The SR-71 Blackbird

The SR-71, the most advanced member of the Blackbird family that included the A-12 and YF-12, was designed by a team of Lockheed personnel led by Clarence “Kelly” Johnson, then vice president of Lockheed’s Advanced Development Company Projects, commonly known as the “Skunk Works” and now a part of Lockheed Martin.

SR-71 T-Shirts

CLICK HERE to see The Aviation Geek Club contributor Linda Sheffield’s T-shirt designs! Linda has a personal relationship with the SR-71 because her father Butch Sheffield flew the Blackbird from test flight in 1965 until 1973. Butch’s Granddaughter’s Lisa Burroughs and Susan Miller are graphic designers. They designed most of the merchandise that is for sale on Threadless. A percentage of the profits go to Flight Test Museum at Edwards Air Force Base. This nonprofit charity is personal to the Sheffield family because they are raising money to house SR-71, #955. This was the first Blackbird that Butch Sheffield flew on Oct. 4, 1965.

The Blackbird design originated in secrecy during the late 1950s with the A-12 reconnaissance aircraft that first flew in April 1962 and remained classified until 1976. President Lyndon Johnson publicly announced the existence of the YF-12A interceptor variant on Feb. 29, 1964, more than half a year after its maiden flight. The SR-71 completed its first flight on Dec. 22, 1964.

The Blackbird was designed to cruise at “Mach 3+,” just over three times the speed of sound or more than 2,200 miles per hour and at altitudes up to 85,000 feet.

Blackbird pilot recalls when his SR-71 Flew so Fast that he and his RSO Landed at Beale AFB almost a Day Before They Took Off from Kadena AB

David Peters in SR-71’s cockpit

The incredible speed of the SR-71 Blackbird

So, it comes as no surprise if, thanks to its astonishing flight characteristics, the aircraft has set numerous speed and altitude records throughout its career.

To give a real perspective of the incredible speed the iconic Blackbird could attain, SR-71 pilot David Peters tells the following, fabulous story.

‘We were TDY to Det. 1 at Kadena AB, Okinawa. One of the birds was scheduled for swap out and my back seater, Ed Bethart, and I were to fly it home. The replacement came in on Friday and we were to leave Saturday morning. So, in true Habu tradition we welcomed the incoming crew and went to happy hour Friday evening at the officers’ club.

SR-71 Pilot tells the story of when his Blackbird flew So Fast that He and his RSO arrived at Beale AFB 17 1/2 Hours Before They Left Kadena AB

David Peters and Ed Bethart

A true story

‘We got up Saturday morning and got ready to go home. Departure was scheduled for 1000. Everything went well and we departed right on time. Headed out to do a pass through the Korean DMZ then into the tankers in the Sea of Japan. Good refueling and climb out headed for the Sea of Okhotsk and the Kamchatka peninsula of Russia and from there to more tankers off of Adak in the Aleutian Islands. Another good refueling and on to Beale AFB California.

‘We arrived with a low approach pulled up into a closed pattern and landed. Following de-suiting and debrief we deposited our classified flight documents jumped in a car and arrived at the officers club for Friday night happy hour at 1630 17 1/2 hours before we left Kadena.

SR-71 print

This print is available in multiple sizes from AircraftProfilePrints.com – CLICK HERE TO GET YOURS. SR-71A Blackbird 61-7972 “Skunkworks”

‘Try that in any aircraft other than the SR-71. Besides this is actually a true story.’

Be sure to check out Linda Sheffield Miller (Col Richard (Butch) Sheffield’s daughter, Col. Sheffield was an SR-71 Reconnaissance Systems Officer) Twitter Page Habubrats SR-71 and Facebook Page Born into the Wilde Blue Yonder for awesome Blackbird’s photos and stories.

Photo credit: David Peters and U.S. Air Force

@Habubrats71 via X

[lands-of-fantasy]

Modern DCTV

(Most) Live-action series from 2000-present (2024)

SUPERMAN MYTHOS: Standalone Superman-related series

Smallville (2001-11)

Krypton (2018-19)

Superman & Lois (2021-) | The series is a spin-off of the 2015 Supergirl series, but it is set in its own continuity, on a different Earth. A different version of the titular characters, as played by the same actors, can be seen in the Arrowverse.

BATMAN MYTHOS: Standalone Batman-related series

Birds of Prey (2002-03)

Gotham (2014-19)

Pennyworth (2019-22)

Gotham Knights (2023)

ARROWVERSE: These series share continuity, each having their own separate storylines but also periodically connecting for a joint one.

Arrow (2012-20)

The Flash (2014-23)

Supergirl (2015-21)

Legends of Tomorrow (2016-22)

Black Lightning (2018-21) | The series joined the Arrowverse mid-season 3, and while it is affected by the events of the crossover of that year, it remained mostly independent.

Batwoman (2019-22)

"TITANSVERSE": These series are independent but Titans features its own version of the Doom Patrol (same cast, different universe) and has a Stargirl cameo.

Titans (2018-23)

Doom Patrol (2019-23)

Stargirl (2020-2022)

THE SUPERNATURAL: Standalone series centered on supernatural characters and events

Swamp Thing (2019)

Constantine (2014-15) | After the series' cancellation, the actor reprised his role as John Constatine in the Arrowverse, eventually joining the main cast of Legends of Tomorrow.

From the pages of DC Vertigo/DC Black Label:

Lucifer (2016-21)

The Sandman (2022-)

OTHER SERIES

Watchmen (2019)

Peacemaker (2022-) | This series is a part of the DC Extended Universe, taking place after the events of The Suicide Squad (2021) movie

See also: Marvel Television

[probablyasocialecologist]

The marsh acts as a natural and hugely effective bulwark against flooding, absorbing and slowing tides before they can encroach inland. Even last winter — the wettest anyone in the area could remember — the village at one edge of the peninsula did not flood. Paths through the marsh remained passable. A steep bank, covered with grass and significantly higher than the old flood wall, now borders the river. The area is also a haven for wildlife. Bird-watching blinds with giant windows offer glimpses of godwits, plovers, oystercatchers, egrets and herons. A growing population of avocets — black-and-white wading birds with distinctive, curling beaks — has gathered around the pools of brackish water. And the marsh has, over time, become a source of pride to the local population. Mr. Darch, who spent much of his career as a poultry farmer, started grazing cattle there in 2019, at the invitation of the Wildfowl and Wetlands Trust. It is not without complications: This year, Mr. Darch found himself watching the sky nervously, wondering when the weather would be dry enough to move his cattle back onto their pastures. If the ground is too damp, he explained, it might create health problems in the cows’ hooves. “They like to have nice dry feet,” he said. But the rewards are plentiful. On the marsh, the cattle are not corralled by fences; instead, their movements are governed by digital collars, which play music to discourage them from drifting into certain areas. Their diets are varied and organic, meaning they provide high-quality, free-range meat. The meat’s traceable origin strengthens the bond between farmers and consumers, Mr. Darch said. Often, he noted, “there is a disconnect there, between our food and where it comes from.” He and two colleagues set up a company, Blue Carbon Farming, in an attempt to bridge that divide. The cows provide other benefits, too. “Cows are natural eco-engineers,” Mr. Darch said. “They eat the grass but don’t take it right down, as sheep would. That means the grass grows longer, which provides more cover for wildlife.”

22 October 2024

[badbatchsprincess]

Heated ~ pt.8

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9 ~ Pt.10 ~Pt.11 ~ Pt.12 ~ Pt.13 ~ Pt.14 ~ Pt.15 ~ Pt.16 ~ Pt.17 ~ Pt.18 ~ Pt.19 ~ Pt.20 ~ Pt.21 ~ Pt.22 ~ Pt.23 ~ Pt.24 ~ Pt.25

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake. 

Warnings: Kidnapping, themes of Non!Con! beware, canon type violence, Y/N badassery, murder, Crosshair is turned on by Y/N committing murder, sorry but we know he would be, I don't make the rules I just enforce them.

I don't know why I loved writing this chapter so much it was so fun like imagining and creating a civilization in the star wars vibes. Also having a tiny homage to slave Leia iconic outfit lol don't mind me.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Still recovering from your heat, this long ride to wherever the Mimbanese were taking you was wearing you down. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling incredibly sore between your thighs, not to mention the pain in the rest of your body. Having four alphas at your disposal for a week had done sinful things to your poor body. 

To say you were sore was an understatement. 

Now your back was starting to hurt as his rifle bit into your spine with every gallop.

You had planned to lounge around for a few days before expecting to properly get back on your feet, but your plans had been derailed and now you were in the hands of a stranger and a strange people. 

You were aware of the fact you were experiencing anxiety, but the last remaining embers of your heart still licked at your hindbrain dulling your senses a bit. All you could think about were your alphas. 

They must be so worried.

~~~

The red clay earth rapidly changed, and soon a lush jungle neared you. The other riders sped up, forcing a tight formation as the animals approached an opening in the jungle wall. As you passed through, you noticed the flora and fauna matched the red and oranges of the mud fields too. Over the thundering sound of hooves, you could hear bird species screeching in the trees above and a rustling as the leaves danced in the wind. 

You were trying to take everything in knowing this information may serve in your escape.

It didn’t take long for you to reach a clearing. 

Upon approach, you watched the jungle reveal a massive stone wall that seemed to go on forever. You gawked as massive gates opened, allowing the war party to pass through before closing behind you with a massive locking mechanism falling into place. 

You looked around, noticing villagers everywhere watching you strangely as the clan leader continued on his path to wherever he was taking you. You looked nothing like them; you were positive that's why they were staring so intensely. Then you realized the clan leader was taking you somewhere specific.

Up ahead, there was another tall wall inside the perimeter wall. More guards opened up the double doors, and you gasped. 

Inside, there was a massive temple surrounded by gardens and billowing trees taller than those in the jungle outside the city. 

All around these grounds were other females clad in crimson fabrics pausing what they were doing to watch you.

The Clan leader trotted to a stop, allowing you to take in the sight in its totality. 

You were suddenly lifted from the saddle and settled into the grass below. 

You looked around frantically, trying to find a potential escape, but you were greeted by other women… some human… you looked at them confused before they parted, making room for a smaller Mimban elder who scuttled over to you. You sucked in a breath as she approached.

She exchanged some words with the clan leader, who bowed his head in respect to the woman. She pushed forward, analyzing you with a scrutinizing eye. The clan leader then seemed to be explaining his actions while gesturing to you. 

You swallowed thickly, feeling your anxiety eclipse whatever numbness you might of had.

She then took your hand into hers and studied the bruises around your wrist. You were certain those belonged to Tech. Then she clicked her tongue as she moved your collar to see Crosshair’s love bites.

She turned to the other women and said something before turning back to the temple. Very quickly, they flocked to you. You squeaked as they gently pushed you to follow the elderly woman, suddenly running their hands over your own in a friendly manner.

"Where are you taking me?" You asked, hoping they might understand basic.

One of the human girls whispered, "Don’t worry, you’ll be okay. It’s safe here."

You just looked at her, studying her face. It was painted with red designs, and her hair was plated back, showing off her dainty neck and collarbones. She donned a flowing red dress with luxurious-looking fabrics showing off her pale skin.

"Where is here?" You asked as the temple entrance approached. "I want to go home. Tell them to take me back to my pack."

"Are you mated?" She asked, taking your hand.

You shook your head no.

"Then you’re better off here," she nodded.

"But my alphas…" You whined, stepping inside the ancient building. The stone walls instantly made the temperature drop ten degrees and you shivered.

"They’ll understand soon," she gave you a sweet smile, taking the lead bringing you to the heart of the temple grounds.

~~~

"We gotta follow them!" Wrecker roared, feeling like his insides were being torn apart. 

Like his brothers, he was horrified to watch you be wrenched from them. Taken from the nest with brute force. 

"We are, Wrecker!" Tech snarled, looking at his data pad.

"They just took her! They fucking took her!" Crosshair was losing his mind. For the sniper engineered to be patient and still, it seemed his alpha instincts overrode his basic programming. He couldn’t deny the way his skin crawled with worry.

"What do they want with her?" Wrecker winced. "Why would they take Y/N?"

"I don’t even want to think about that," Crosshair hissed as his thoughts went to the absolute worst.

"Do you have their position?" Echo asked, looking to Tech.

"I do." He showed everyone his datapad. During the struggle, when he realized you were being taken from them, he slipped a tracker onto one of the guards. "It seems they took her to a city called Alise."

"How far?" Hunter growled.

"A few hours on foot," Tech replied, doing the math in his head, “We might be able to get there by sun down.”

"Let’s pack up and get moving," Hunter sprung into action.

They geared up and restocked their supplies before following the endless sets of hoof marks in the clay earth. Crosshair and Hunter hadn’t seen anything when they scouted a few days ago. He was hoping Tech’s info was correct.

~~~

"I- Ah!" You screamed as the Mimbanese women plunged you under the warm bathwater. You came back up coughing and sputtering, trying to wipe your eyes to see.

They had brought you to a natural hot spring inside the temple, and without warning, had stripped you down to your birthday suit. You didn’t even have time to feel embarrassed before you were being guided to the water, where they swarmed you with various scrubbing tools and soaps. 

You looked up at the girl who had spoken to you moments before, but she just curled up on a fabric draped lounger with her friend while they talked, as if you weren’t being waterboarded by strangers just a few mere feet away.

You looked around, noticing there were only women here. The temple seemed to be a sacred space of sorts, as more of that same fabric was draped around the columns and ceilings. The floors were covered in red carpets, and lounging furniture was littered everywhere.

A warm cloth was brought to your skin as some sort of exfoliating cream was buffed into your flesh. More skilled hands worked some hair cleanser into your scalp. You fought back a sigh. It felt really nice to have someone else clean you. 

It’s not like your alphas didn’t care for you, but they’re still men at the end of the day, and their hair washing skills were limited.

The warmed mineral water was doing wonders for your soreness. If anything, that made this a little enjoyable you felt yourself disarm a bit at their touch.

When they were satisfied with the job, they helped you out before cleaning themselves. You were brought over to the girl from before, and she stood up, extending a hand to you. You wrapped the crimson fabric around yourself a little tighter as she led you out to one of the windows. Here, were multiple vanity tables with mirrors and various creams and potions. She sat you down as her friend perched herself on the stool next to you with a kind smile.

"What is your name?" She asked, picking up a wooden comb from the table.

"I’m Y/N," you said quietly.

"Hi Y/N, I’m Taryn," she then gestured to her friend who had golden hair, "That’s Starla.”

"Where am I?" You asked, rubbing the fabric wrapping over your damp face.

"The city is called Alise," Taryn said, moving your hair to your back as she started gently running the comb through your tangled locks, "But this place is called the fortress." She waved the comb around at the temple.

"Why was I taken?" You shivered, fighting back tears. The only thing you wanted was to be in the arms of your alphas in your comforting nest right now.

"Tarook said he found you in the mud fields?" Taryn said, watching you nod in confirmation. "Anywhere outside the fortress isn’t safe for the women. They built this place to keep us safe."

"What’s in the mud fields?" You asked.

"Monsters," Starla said gravely, and you gasped.

Taryn gave her a disapproving look, "The men keep us safe here. They bring us everything we could need. There’s no need to worry."

"Can I leave?" You asked, and Taryn just eyed you through the mirror.

That was a no, you guessed.

"Who are these women?" You looked around.

"The elders, mothers, and the unmated," Starla said, "This place is a sacred site to their religion, but they use it now to protect us from the outside."

"Do the men ever come here?"

"Partners, sure. But not unless they’re mated. This place is just for us."

Taryn finished off a simple braid going down the back of your head and tied off the ends before standing to get Starla’s help finding you something new to wear. When they came back, they held various pieces of crimson fabric, and they got to work wrapping you in it.

You were thankful they covered your private bits, but the rest they let be exposed. The pieces all flowed into a skirt but left large slits on both sides trailing all the way up to your hips. The Mimban breeze blew the fabric softly and teased your legs. 

You looked in the mirror, hardly recognizing yourself. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a dress on nonetheless something like this. You felt like one of the pin ups on in five’s bunk.

"So you blend in," Starla smiled and grabbed one of the pots on the vanity. She dunked her fingers in the red paste and brought it over to your face where she drew two thick lines from under your eyes all the way down your cheeks to your neck.

"You have an alpha?" She asked, noticing the love bites decorating your shoulder.

"Four. Actually," you were hit with sudden sadness, hoping you get to see them again.

"Four?" Starla’s eyes widened in shock but slightly impressed.

"Well, actually, there’s a fifth, but he’s platonic," you sighed, fighting back tears.

"Tarook took you from them?" She asked, a little horrified.

You nodded, "They tried to stop him, but there were too many."

Starla looked to Taryn, who looked a little distraught at the idea.

"That would explain these," Taryn picked up your wrist gently.

"I had just gotten through my heat when I was taken from them," you felt a tear slip, "I just want to go home." You gave them your best begging eyes hoping they’d take pity on you.

They sighed, sympathizing but in the end nothing came of it.

"I’m wondering if Tarook thought you had been hurt," she turned over your bruised wrists, "He might be strict, but he does care for us."

"My alphas are warriors. They can be a little rough, but they’d never hurt me," you sighed, pulling your wrists back and holding them close to your heart, "I don’t understand why your leader would do this."

"The fields are close to the Alooke," Taryn said.

"The Alooke?" You hadn’t heard that word before.

"They’re a clan of monsters," Starla whispered, "They’ve been terrorizing Mimban for generations. Alise was built to keep them out. They came from a nearby star system and have been taking the Mimbanese and killing them for sport."

"If you’re taken. You don’t come back," Taryn sighed.

You swallowed thickly, wondering how lucky you had been for the past two weeks.

"They particularly target women and children," Starla said, gesturing to all of the women moving about the temple, "That’s why they built the fortress."

"But you’re prisoners," you whispered.

"It’s better than the alternative, and we’re treated well."

You sighed in frustration. This was archaic, no matter the reasoning. A cage was still a cage regardless of title.

You had to get out of here. Alooke be damned.

"Will you show me around?" You asked, watching some of the elders locking arms and walking through the various corridors. You needed to learn this place and learn it fast if you were going to make an escape.

"Sure," they smiled and did the same. The three of you left the bathhouse to explore the inner city.

It was a lot larger than you had realized.

The inner city had multiple temples and many smaller private living domiciles. They showed you their rooms that they share with a few other human girls on the upper floor of the smaller western temple. 

Between these ancient buildings, the gardens flowed along with a river that cut through the center of the city. The inner city was big enough you couldn’t see the walls from the other side. It gave the illusion that you weren’t trapped in a cage. It seemed like two thousand women resided here from what you estimated. They all wore the same color and had similar face paintings. 

They seemed to be content. They laughed and gathered playing games you had never seen before in the little grass areas. There was an abundance of fruiting trees and gardens. 

It almost seemed… like a utopia? No wonder they had no desire so leave.

Starla and Taryn found an empty bench under a huge tree and plucked a few fruits from a nearby basket handing one to you. It was a perfectly ripe meiloorun.

"Women from outside Mimban usually have an occupation," Taryn said, biting into the juicy fruit, "What do you do?"

“I’m a medic for the Grand Army of the Republic," you bit into the fruit, moaning at how sweet it was. You hadn’t had a fresh meiloorun in years, and the GAR ration packs tasted nothing like this, "I was stationed with the 501st battalion for a few years since the start of the war, then I transferred to my unit now. They’re a small group of commando soldiers. We’re sent on special missions that the other soldiers can’t do."

"Wow," Starla said in wonder, "So you’ve been all over the galaxy?"

You nodded, "I’ve been to many places. Each a little stranger than the next," you laughed quietly.

"Do you enjoy it?" Taryn asked with a hint of skepticism, "It sounds dangerous."

"Sure it’s dangerous," you smiled, remembering all of the adventures you’ve been on, "We’ve encountered pretty much anything you could think of. It is kind of nice not being shot at, I’ll admit. But I love my boys, and they work really hard for the GAR."

"War is hard," Starla sighed.

"It is," you agreed, "How did you both end up here?"

"My family was trying to flee Separatist occupation when I was brought here as a child," Starla explained, "The Alooke took them, and the elders took me in and raised me here."

"Similar story for me too. My family tried to rebuild a new life here when the Separatists showed up to try and start up a mining operation. Republic forces got us out in time. My mother is mated and lives in the outer ring with my father," she gestured to the gates.

“You know the GAR?” you asked.

Taryn nodded. “The clones, right?”

“Yeah,” you smiled.

“Brave warriors,” she nodded.

“I wonder if it was my boys,” you laughed. “What color were their armor?”

“Green,” she reminisced.

“Ahh no, that wasn’t us.”

“How crazy would that have been,” she smiled, taking your hand and resting it in her lap.

As the crimson moon rose, the inner city of Alise was cast into eerie darkness. Torches and lanterns were lit to keep the gardens out of darkness. You were all summoned to dinner with a sound bell ringing from the main temple. 

You and your new friends made your way through the gardens before stepping up the temple steps to wash your feet and hands before entering. 

Once inside, you smiled seeing how many women of all ages gathered, including children. They played music, danced, and sung while the others ate. It was shocking to see, but nonetheless, it made you happy. There weren’t many places in the universe like this you realized.

Starla grabbed your hand and led you over to where the prepared food was. It consisted of some things you’d never seen before, but she eagerly filled your plate before her own and marched you three over to a pile of stacked pillows to lounge on and watch the festivities.

“Is it always like this?” you asked, digging into the delicious food.

“Yeah,” Taryn smiled. “We have a very close community.”

“I can tell,” you smiled. Okay, fine, maybe Mimban wasn’t so bad. You were slapping yourself for being too judgmental. It must be the hormones. 

~~~

"I don't see her," Crosshair remarked, peering down his scope at the massive city below. The rocky hillside they perched on provided a perfect view over the jungle.

"There are two rings," Tech informed, looking at his data pad. "The inner ring has ancient Jedi temples. I think she'd be in the outer ring; that seems to be where the villagers live."

"Jedi?" Wrecker asked, pulling out his scope.

"Yes, that's what I said," Tech replied, grabbing his own to peer down.

"Notice anything strange about this town?" Crosshair drawled clearly noticing something.

"What..." Hunter zoomed in with his lenses.

"There are only men," Crosshair observed, moving his scope to survey the rest of the city.

"Where are the women?" Hunter asked noticing the crowd in the streets is only men.

"What's that?" Wrecker asked, ignoring Hunter's question.

"What's what?" Hunter looked to Wrecker.

"The temples," Wrecker zoomed in. "There are people walking around."

Crosshair honed in on the flickering lanterns of the temple. "The women…”

They all adjusted their macro binoculars to focus on the inner city. That's when they saw all of the women happily skipping towards the main temple grounds, holding hands and dancing to what they assumed was music. They were covered head to toe in crimson, looking joyous and happy.

"She has to be there," Hunter declared.

"Assuming the clan leader isn't holding her hostage himself," Crosshair added, not entirely convinced.

"I don't think he would," Tech interjected, reading through the information about the Mimabnese. "I think Alise was built to protect their women. It says here that they have a long history of battling off a pirate stronghold called the Alooke. The pirates colonized this land and have been enemies of the indigenous for many generations, stealing their women for breeding."

Hunter didn’t like the sound of that one bit…

"So, you think they're keeping her in that temple?" Crosshair asked, looking through the various corridors from the outside. He couldn't really tell the difference between the various females; they were all wearing the same thing.

"Most likely," Tech affirmed.

"Alright, let's get moving before—" 

Crosshair cut off Hunter, "We got movement in the north."

On the other side of the city, a dust cloud formed in the distance. Upon closer inspection, they noticed dozens of speeders making their way from the direction of the Marauder.

"You don't think they found our ship, do you?" Echo was getting a little worried now.

"It would be likely," Tech informed. "I'm guessing it's those pirates."

"They didn't bother us for two weeks. I don't think it's reasonable to think they'd start today of all days," Hunter watched them heading full speed for the city.

"What did that guy say to us earlier?" Echo narrowed his eyes through his binoculars before turning to face his squad. "He said that this place was no place for a female. Then he took Y/N…”

"Don't remind me," Hunter said, growing angry.

"No, I think he knew they'd come."

Crosshair crossed his arms. "We were sitting ducks for two weeks. If they were going to raid us and take Y/N, they would have done it already."

"Not if they didn't know she was there," Echo pointed out.

Suddenly, they realized you barely left the ship because of how upset you had been after the crash. The only time you had left was to help push the ship in the earlier days.

Echo pointed to the city again, "You saw their reaction when she popped her head out. They were shocked, and they had been watching us for who knows how long before I noticed."

"You think they saw her go into the city?" Hunter asked.

"She was fresh out of heat. No doubt they're hunting her scent trail," Echo's mechanical heart started beating a little faster, realizing you had probably unintentionally led them right to the hidden city.

"Why would they attack the city? It's massively fortified," Crosshair noted, observing all of the sentries patrolling the upper rim of the walls and the guard towers looking outwards. There were only two gates, one on the north end and one on the south. The place was like the citadel. "They'll sustain massive casualties."

Echo shrugged. "Maybe for an omega, they would risk it?"

"Then we need to go," Hunter stood up, grabbing his pack. “Now."

~~~

You smiled, holding hands with the little girl who led you around the dance floor. You didn’t know why the little Twi'lek girl picked you, but you couldn’t deny her. Her mother seemed content letting her play with you, so you just smiled and followed her lead.

Starla and Taryn clapped along with the music, giggling as they watched you enjoy yourself.

When the song was over, it seemed that everyone was eager to retire to bed. 

The girls walked with you back to where you’d be staying with them until the this whole thing can be resolved.

Once inside the large converted bedroom, they helped you build a pallet of pillows and blankets like their own by the breezy airway. 

You washed up before bed in one of the metal basins, and Starla helped you take the pins out of your hair, freeing your now dry and clean locks.

With a quiet goodnight, you curled up on the pallet and pulled the woven blanket up over you. 

You sighed, feeling a bit of anxiety over the whole situation. Dinner was a good distraction, but now that you were left to listen to the river down below and the call of the night birds, you were left with your own thoughts.

Were your alphas coming for you? Were they already here? Or were they injured in the struggle? 

What if they needed you to heal them and you weren’t there? You were starting to feel the tears again as the pull of your heart pained in your chest. You knew they were coming. 

They always came for you.

You tried your hardest to find a comfortable spot that would allow you to close your eyes and try to forget the situation you were in, but you couldn’t help but hear some kind of commotion outside. 

It was like there was a shift in energy, and it forced you up into a seated position. You looked around at the other girls, but they seemed to be comfortably asleep, not hearing what you were.

Something made the hair stand up on the back of your neck as you tried your hardest to listen. You wished you had Hunter’s hearing, but whatever was making your body alert, you knew it wasn’t good.

Standing up, you wrapped the blanket around yourself and stepped out from under the cover of the marble columns onto the exposed patio. Your hair whipped around in the breeze as you looked out over the inner city. 

The torches and lanterns danced in the breeze, casting orange light everywhere. That's when you noticed something moving in the distance: the wall just off to the right had guards jogging back and forth, guns in hand.

You narrowed your eyes, making sure you were seeing the right thing, when you felt Starla near, rubbing her eyes and approaching you. “Are you okay?” she whispered.

“Something’s wrong,” you replied, pointing to the wall guards.

She squinted her eyes, trying to see in the dark. When she realized the guards were not in their normal watch positions, she gasped and skittered back into the room, waking Taryn.

Was it your alphas? You wondered, feeling a bit of hope fill your chest. They were coming to rescue you from this gilded cage.

Taryn awoke a little grumbly, but her attitude changed when she finally saw what was happening.

“There’s been a breach,” her eyes widened like saucers. “Go warn the others,” she turned to Starla, who sprinted out of the room.

“What do we do?” you asked, stepping back from the patio and back into the bedroom.

“We hide,” she said, leading the way to a red carpet hanging on the wall.

“Do you have weapons?” you asked.

She just gave you a look.

“This place is so ass-backwards,” you shook your head and followed her as she lifted back the tapestry, revealing a narrow passageway.

From beyond the stone walls, you heard a loud warning siren go off, letting you know Starla was successful. The blonde came running back shortly after, squeezing into the passageway with the two of you.

Just beyond the narrow pass was a small room with a candle and matches, which Taryn lit to light up the room. 

From inside, you could see the ancient carvings from a time long ago. It seemed like a meditation room if you were correct. There were star maps of the entire galaxy and ancient primordial beings that seemed to be carefully depicting the beginning of the Jedi.

 You’d seen this particular mural before on Coruscant… This place was a Jedi temple?

Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of blaster fire.

The two girls yelped upon hearing it, but you were just trying to figure out how many guns were firing. It was way more than five, you deduced. It wasn’t your boys; that was for certain. 

This was something else entirely.

“We need weapons,” you whispered.

“We’ll be fine,” Taryn held Starla close, trying to console the girl. “They’ve never made it to the inner city before.”

“We don’t even know how to use blasters,” Starla trembled.

“Well, I do. We won’t last long without them if whoever that is out there is as bad as you say they are,” you were listening to the gunfire and the screaming. 

These were all sounds you were used to, and something was telling you this was no normal siege. It was starting to sound like the front lines of Felucia. 

“They won’t find us here,” Taryn’s tone was confident despite her panicked features.

You just sighed and leaned against the wall, waiting for the blasters to silence.

~~~

Hunter was panting heavily by the time they made it to the outer wall. “The pirates have drawn their fire. Let’s get up there before they come back,” he said.

Crosshair loaded a repelling cable into firepuncher and pulled the trigger, watching it latch onto the rim of the upper wall.

Quickly, the five soldiers scaled the wall like they had hundreds of times before. Hunter hauled himself up first, checking if the coast was clear. When it was, he motioned for the others to swing over the edge, grouping up into formation as they jogged in the opposite direction of the action.

Just as Crosshair had said, there were only men in the outer ring, and they all seemed keen on grabbing their weapons to join the fight. 

From what they could see from the wall, the pirates managed to make it past the blockades with some kind of repurposed Separatist battering ram. It must have been left over from a previous battle.

“Over here!” Echo called out, finding a stone stairway that led down into the city below. They began quickly running down the large flight of stairs. That was until the battering ram sounded again.

“They’ve breached the inner city,” Tech said, using his infrared to see how many pirates were trying to rush the guards into the temple grounds. Luckily, most of them were being held back by the Mimbanese, and only a small handful slipped through.

“We need to hurry,” Echo urged.

~~~

The noises suddenly changed when you heard a massive pounding. It sounded like metal on metal, and you knew they were going for the massive doors protecting the inner city.

“They’re coming,” you said, slipping out of the shelter to confirm your suspicion. Taryn tried to grab you, but you were too fast. Nudging past the tapestry, you jogged over to the balcony, peeking out slightly just to see the gate had been basically disintegrated, and the guards were openly firing against a horde of what you could tell were pirates—the Alooke.

Running back to the safe place, you very carefully arranged the tapestry back to normal as you slipped back inside.

“They’re inside,” you whispered, blowing out the candle, leaving you in total darkness.

Starla started whimpering like a scared pup. You put your hand on her shoulder, trying to quiet her, but it wasn’t helping much. 

You flinched when you heard women’s screams echo throughout the hall and knew they had infiltrated the temple and they were close. 

 It wasn’t long before they’d kick down your door. You just prayed they would move on and not notice your hiding spot.

You closed your eyes, saying a silent prayer to the Maker, hoping they’d take mercy on you.

You jumped when you heard the wood of your bedroom door smash open into the stone wall with a bone chilling bang. 

Taryn covered Starla's mouth with her hand, keeping her silent. You took a deep breath, trying to still the racing adrenaline in your body so you could hear over the pounding in your ears.

You heard the man tear apart the room, throwing everything around, growling as he yanked apart the bed pallets frustrated.

“I can smell you… Omega,” he rumbled, making your stomach drop. “I know you’re in here. I know you’re close…”

He continued destroying the room, knocking over the furniture and smashing the pottery of flowers, and you cursed yourself for not thinking about the fact you were totally unmedicated and nothing was suppressing your scent. You were positive it was pungent. 

“I smell alpha on you too,” he chuckled, “too bad he’s not here to save you,” he threatened. 

You heard his boots getting closer to the tapestry as he rooted around in the box of body jewelry next to your hiding spot.

You looked to the two cowering girls. You knew what you had to do. You knew it was a matter of time before he discovered you. At least if you acted now, you’d have the element of surprise.

Leaning forward, you grabbed the metal candlestick and flipped it upside down before returning to the narrow passageway.

Taryn tried to plead with you, but you just shook your head, trying to convey that you had a plan… kind of… you knew Hunter was absolutely going to chew you a new one if he ever found out you were this dumb.

Nudging the tapestry aside, you saw the ugly creature prowling around the center of the room, admiring all the gold shiny jewelry he had found. 

Adjusting your grip slightly on the candle holder, you crept forwards silently, leaving the safety of your hiding spot and approached him in practiced silence.

Rearing back, you went to make the swing and brought down your makeshift club hard, connecting with his wrinkly head. He let out a bark and doubled over, feeling his blood start to rush from the injury.

You raised your arm again to finish the job. He was quick enough to spin around and grab your wrist, holding the weapon. You yelped as he squeezed, forcing you to drop it.

“There you are!” he spat, “Nice of you to come out. You’ll do well. Onka will be pleased to have a new toy.” His free hand shot out to grab at your throat, and something in that moment changed, and suddenly your weeks of combat training kicked in like instinct.

With a growl, you dodged his hand and used your knee to hit him in the gut. He grunted and tried to wrangle you again, but this time you spun around and used your weight to roll him over your back onto the wooden lounging table. He let go of your wrist as he collided with the hard surface, forcing his back into a painful arch with a pop.

You backed up and arched your leg into a high kick, bringing down your heel to his sternum. You heard a crack and knew you hit your target. The man wailed in agony, gripping at his chest as it was no doubt broken.

It was loud enough. Another man entered the room curiously to find you standing over his comrade. You only had a second to react before he rushed you. Grabbing a large metal dish Starla used to hold her combs, you reared that thing back before whipping it across the pursuer's face. 

He snapped to the side, spinning around, trying to recover from the strike. 

His cheek was bleeding, and you were panting. Thankful for the freedom of movement this makeshift dress offered, you got back into a fighting stance, waiting for his move.

“An omega that can fight,” he sneered, raising his fists, “That’s new.”

“You have no idea,” you adjusted your grip on the plate.

He narrowed his eyes, studying you before he flinched. You decided he was taking too long to make a move and flung the plate at him like a frisbee, watching it connect with his neck. He stumbled back, shocked and struggling to breathe, when you launched yourself at him like a wild tooka.

Just like Hunter had showed you, you leaped up onto him, wrapping your bare legs around his shoulder and chest before twisting yourself down, taking him with you.

Hunter always told you that because you’re smaller, you have to bring the fight down to the ground if you want a chance at winning. You knew you had to keep this man on the ground or else he could over power you.

You rolled, throwing him into a spin on the ground. He grunted and reached out, grabbing your bare ankle, yanking you down with him. He tried crawling over you, but you kicked him in the side of the face, hearing his jaw snap viciously.

You crawled away, grabbing one of Taryn’s hair forks, holding it like a shiv.

When he tried to grab you again, you spun on him, driving the fork into his arm and twisted, hearing him scream in agony.

Just as you thought you were making some headway, the one from before got up, grabbed you by the hair, dragging you out onto the balcony and away from his friend. You screamed, feeling the burning pain as he yanked on your locks mercilessly.

“You’re one hell of a problem, aren’t you, sweetheart!” he grabbed your neck, squeezing it harshly. You scrambled and clawed at him feeling the oxygen start to leave you.

You spat at him, watching it land on his face and drip down his scaly cheek.

“Feisty,” his friend laughed, pulling the fork from his arm and letting it fall with a clatter.

The other let go of your hair to wipe his face off.

“I’m fucking her first before we give her to Onka.” He snarled, “fucking payback for the struggle.”

You bared your teeth and he just laughed spinning you around forcing you over the balcony railing at the hip. You kicked back connecting with this shin making him howl. He grabbed your hair again, smashing your face into the stone roughly. 

“Damn bitch!” He started running his hand over your hip before reaching the high slit in your dress. 

Just as you thought it was all over, you heard the sound of a single blaster shot and the tell tale sound of a body hitting the ground. 

You couldn’t see what was happening but you nearly cried when you heard a familiar voice. 

“Fucking drop her.” Crosshair’s menacing voice cut through the air like a vibroblade. 

You were suddenly yanked up and whipped around, being used as a human shield. In front of you, you sighed in relief upon seeing Crosshair’s mask and firepuncher aimed right at your attacker. He slowly approached, stepping over the dead pirate.

You felt dull metal being pressed to your head, and you knew it was a blaster. “Don’t come any closer,” the pirate warned.

Crosshair stopped his advance and stood scarily still.

“Is this the alpha I could smell on you earlier, sweetheart?” He leaned down to whisper in your ear, “What a pretty little thing you are, so many men fighting to have you.”

Normally, you would have been frightened to be in a situation like this, but looking at Crosshair now, you knew no harm would befall you. You knew he would do what needed to be done. You had full trust in the sniper. 

Your tense shoulders fell, and you became eerily relaxed feeling the calm wash over you.

“Hand her over, and I’ll let you live,” Crosshair spoke through his vocoder.

“No chance,” the pirate laughed before coughing due to his fractured sternum, “Put down your gun, and I won’t shoot her.”

Crosshair waited a moment, calculating the risk before deciding to slowly set firepuncher down on the ground, deciding your life was the top priority.

“Kick it to me,” the pirate ordered.

Crosshair begrudgingly kicked his beloved rifle into the center of the room. The pirate huffed, satisfied.

You were then violently shoved down onto your knees with a cry as the pirate pushed you over to have a go at Crosshair. You felt his steel-toe boot bite into your side as he kicked you.

The Pirate wasn’t ready; Crosshair was too fast, too trained. Before his boot had ever left your side, Crosshair lunged at him, knocking the blaster from his grip. The two men fell into a nasty brawl.

Gaining your senses back, you watched your beloved alpha fend off the pirate to the best of his ability. 

The ugly fucker grabbed a knife from his belt and swung it at Cross. You watched in horror as Crosshair dodged him masterfully, but your adrenaline was on overdrive. 

Without much thinking, you crawled over the debris of the room and grabbed firepuncher. You held up the rifle, tucking it into your shoulder and raising yourself to your knees, bringing one foot forward to plant confidently on the floor. 

Raising the gun up into the air, you felt your heart calm and your breathing still. 

In that brief moment of clarity, you aimed the weapon, putting the god-ugly pirate into the crosshairs of the scope before pulling the trigger.

You watched that blue plasma bolt pierce right through the back of the pirate’s skull as he collapsed on the ground mid-swing. 

Crosshair stood there in awe as the smoke from the blast still lingered in the air. He felt like the air had been punched from his gut seeing you kneeling there holding his gun with that determined look in your eyes. He felt the blood rush south realizing you had just saved him... with his gun. He wanted to throw you down on these cushioned floors and ravash you. Shaking himself back to his senses, he took a deep calming breath in.

You took a deep breath too, setting the gun down as Crosshair leaped across the room to kneel down on the floor and embrace you.

You tightly wrung yourself around him, finally feeling the adrenaline wear off and the tears start to flow.

“Cross!” You sobbed, squeezing him.

“Mesh’la,” he took his helmet off, setting it down to the side, and shoved his face into your neck, holding your head like you were the most precious thing to ever live.

“Are you hurt?” He suddenly drew back to get a real look at you. He finally had a second to take in what you were wearing. If the situation wasn’t so dire, he’d probably have a boner right now. 

Your bare legs knelt on the ground, and your nearly naked torso shone in the moonlight, and that damn red on you. It was making his blood warm seeing his little omega on display like this.

“I’m okay,” you replied, grabbing his face and bringing his mouth to yours in a heated kiss. He leaned over you, supporting your back with one hand and holding the two of you up with the other, he squeezed you tightly to his chest plate.

“Y/N?”

Crosshair grabbed his gun in a flash between your bodies, placing the end on his shoulder rifle rest for stabilization. You were still dazed from the kiss when you noticed the others had come out from hiding.

Taryn and Starla squeaked with the gun being pointed at them clutching onto one another.

“It’s okay,” you said, placing a hand on the rifle, “They’re friends.”

Crosshair slowly lowered the gun and looked back at you, “We need to go.”

“Where are the others?” You asked, letting Crosshair help you stand up. He put his helmet back on with a hiss.

“They’re fighting off the pirates. Echo spotted you from the balcony. I ran up here as fast as possible, but we have to go while we still can.”

“What about them?” You asked, looking to your frightened friends.

“We don’t have time,” he ushered you out towards the balcony.

You looked over your shoulder, pointing to the discarded pirate blasters, “Use those!” You pointed to the weapons. Taryn scrambled to grab them as Crosshair wrapped a strong arm around your back, bringing you to his front.

“Hold on adi’ka,” he said, aiming another repelling cable towards the floor above. You wrapped your arms around Crosshair as he engaged the lift, bringing the two of you off the ground. Once you were up, you noticed Echo squatting on the roof, firing at the wall filled with invaders.

“Echo!” You smiled, still holding onto Crosshair.

“Hey, Tiny!” He nodded at you, continuing to squeeze off more rounds, “Glad to see you… what the hell are you wearing?”

You looked down, forgetting about the strange revealing attire.

“Later!” Crosshair growled.

He grabbed a zip cable grip, placing it onto the zipline from the top of the temple over to the wall across the way.

“Don’t let go!” He said, grabbing you again.

“What?” You asked before squealing as he whisked you off your feet, letting the grip slide across the cable carrying you over the war zone towards the wall deck. He dropped the grip, landing the two of you safely on the wall. Your bare feet hit the stone with a stumble as you shook with renewed adrenaline.

“I got her,” Crosshair radioed in as Echo zip-lined across the gardens to the wall, “meet us at the rendezvous point.”

You felt Echo put a gloved hand on your shoulder before falling into formation, leading the way. Crosshair held your hand as he dragged you through the chaos. Fire and plasma blasts flew everywhere. The entire city was under siege. You watched in horror as the Mimbanese fought with everything they had. 

They were fierce warriors; you could give them that credit despite their strange customs.

Your feet were definitely getting cut up from running over the debris, but you couldn’t feel much over the adrenaline. Before long, you were nearing the outer wall as Crosshair and Echo ducked behind a vendor cart, pressing you between them.

“Now what?” You asked, holding onto Echo’s flesh arm.

“We wait for Hunter,” Crosshair said, throwing one of his reflector pads on the wall to keep an eye on the action behind them.

A particularly loud explosion had you clenching onto Echo.

“I don’t know how you guys do this every day!” You flinched as more debris rained over the vendor cart.

“Part of the job, Cyra’ika,” Crosshair checked the locator on his vembrance, “They’re close.” He got up, holding his rifle ready to fire but lowered it seeing Hunter, Tech, and Wrecker arriving on stolen speeders.

When they pulled up, Crosshair led you to them. You went to throw yourself at Hunter, but Crosshair shoved you onto the back of his speeder instead, “Reunions later! Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

You snuggled up to Hunter’s back, clinging onto his armor as Crosshair slid in behind you. The Sargent gave your leg a little pad letting you know he was happy to see you.

Echo jumped onto Tech’s bike while Wrecker’s had two massive engine parts strapped to the back. Presumably stolen you deduced. 

In a flash, Hunter whipped the speeder around, taking off, leaving the war zone behind.

You sped through the smoke as you neared the city gates. Crosshair kept a firm hand on your head, shoving your head down when a stray bullet whizzed by. 

You gasped, seeing it explode into a basket of fruits to your left.

“Careful,” he growled.

You reached an arm back, putting it on his thigh plate, giving it a squeeze as a thank you.

Once you passed through the gates, you finally could release a big exhale. You watched the city of Alise disappearing into the background as Tech navigated you all back to the Marauder. 

You knew it would be a long journey, but you finally felt free. You leaned back into Crosshair, letting your head lull against his shoulder. 

He wrapped a hand around your waist, keeping you close. You were finally back with your pack, back with your alphas. Everything was right again…

You felt the way Crosshairs gloved fingers slipped onto the slit in the pathetic excuse for a dress you were wearing. 

You could tell he disapproved as his fingers slid inwards realizing you had no panties on. But the other part of your grumpy alpha was turned on beyond belief. 

Having you in his grasp again was making his heart race and his codpiece incredibly tight. He couldn’t help himself but to drag his hands away from you core and explore higher, he ran his hands over your exposed sides and back then up your chest to where Taryn had tied a flimsy piece over your breasts. Then he thumbed the piece that wrapped around your neck holding everything together. 

You squirmed feeling yourself get wet the more Crosshair touched you. It didn’t help having the humming speeder between your legs as he returned back to massaging your exposed thighs. 

Hunter felt you squirming around and tilted his helmet to the side to make sure you were okay. What he didn’t expect to see was you tucking your head into Crosshair’s neck under his helmet as he groped you shamelessly. 

He shook his head going back to focusing on getting everyone back to the ship. He’d deal with Crosshair’s horny ass later. 

~~~

What felt like an eternity later, the Marauder was finally in sight. When Hunter slowed down the bike to investigate the damage, it was apparent that a large group of raiders had been there. 

There were footprints all around the ship, including inside. From what you could see, nothing seemed to be taken except for a few items of clothes strewn about outside, no doubt used to confirm your identity and scent.

“Stay here,” Hunter instructed as he got off the bike with the others to ensure the ship was indeed empty.

You stayed on the bike with Crosshair as he got up to take his helmet off and kiss you properly. You sighed into the kiss, feeling his firm grasp on your chin. His strong hands ran down your sides squeezing your exposed hips he stood between your spread thighs. You whimpered feeling a jolt electrify your entire being.

“Thank you,” you whispered, pressing a small kiss to his lips. “For finding me…”

“You put up a hell of a fight, Adi’ka,” he smiled, kissing you again, this time with more force, making you whine with need as he ground his hips into your throbbing core.

“Alright, quit making out,” Echo interjected, walking back towards the speeders.

You pulled away, blushing, letting Crosshair scowl at the ARC trooper for inturpting. You had heard about the post battle need to blow off steam. Some troopers went to 79’s to drink, some found hookers, and others well.. you weren’t entire sure. But you knew it was real, the adrenaline was making you want to jump Crosshair’s bones. 

“What happened?” Echo asked, putting his hand on his hip. The others quickly returned, wanting to know as well. “Where are your shoes?” The arc trooper raised a brow.

“They took them,” you replied, looking down at your wrecked and bloody feet.

“Okay, start from the beginning,” Hunter said, kneeling down in front of you to look at your injuries, pulling a shard from the ball of your foot gently giving your ankle a little rub.

“That crazy man took me. His name was T-Tarook or Tanrock or something like that.” You waved you hand dismissively,  “Then we were riding for hours on that stupid horse before we got to the city. Then they brought me to an old lady who took my clothes and forced me into a bathspring. 

They dressed me, painted my face, then let me go into that garden prison. I met two human girls who had been victims of the war who ended up there with their families. 

Nothing else really happened. They fed me and brought me into their community. There were so many I couldn’t believe it. Then they converted these old Jedi Temples into living spaces and that’s when Crosshair found me. 

Well, actually the pirates found us first and I tried my best to fight them off, but in the end, Crosshair saved me. Echo and him got me out and now we're here… I still don’t know where my shoes are though,” you sighed, feeling exhausted; it had been a wild 48 hours.

“An old lady took your clothes?” Echo repeated amused.

You shook your head. “It was so strange.” You were trying to understand the whole ordeal.

“Does that explain that?” He gestured to your barely there attire. You nodded again crossing your arms over your hardened nipples.

“Looks like something the Hutts would like,” Hunter commented, crossing his arms.

“I’ve seen more clothes on a stripper at 79’s,” Crosshair joked. You slapped him.

“I didn’t exactly have a choice if you didn’t notice,” you scowled at him. “Now, will one of you carry me inside so I can change?”

“Sorry to break it to you, Mesh’la, but… they took most of your clothes,” Hunter nodded in the direction of the ship.

“Fucking perverts.” You growled, “They better not have taken my favorite civvies!” You slid off the speeder and into the mud feeling it squelch under your toes no longer caring about getting dirty. You were already covered in plasma powder and maker knows what. 

"Hey, I'm just glad you're okay, Pip!" Wrecked exclaimed, pulling you into a massive bear hug and rubbing his chin on the crown of your head scenting you. You relaxed into his embrace, allowing him to set you down gently.

Tech then gave you a quick embrace, followed by Hunter, who tilted your chin up to get a look

at the blooming bruises around your neck. He gave a disapproving huff, but you just smiled and placed a reassuring hand on his chest. He let you go and watched as you made your way back to the ship, your long legs shuffling through the clay, fussing with the fabrics flowing from your waist.

They all watched you trot to the ship eagerly, a little mesmerized by the outfit. Hunter then snapped out of it and pointed to the stolen engine parts, "Alright, let's get these parts installed and get the hell out of dodge," Hunter said snapping the others out of their stares. 

Wrecker got to work quickly, knowing there was limited time before the locals or the pirates showed up to poke around and Tech grabbed his welding kit.

~~~

"Are we good to go?" Echo asked Tech, who began the launch sequence. The ship groaned slightly as it pulled away from the surface of Mimban. You sat in your jump seat, feet cleaned and bandaged, wrapped in a blanket, and preparing for the cold of space.

"We’re clear," Tech said, angling the nose of the ship towards the blackness of space.

"Thank the maker!" you cheered, thrilled to get the hell off this rock. “Fuck Mimban!”

You heard Wrecker laugh.

"Launching to hyperspace," Tech announced, pushing the throttle forward to prime the hyperdrive. Within seconds, you were all zooming through space with bright blue and white lights. 

You could cry, honest to the maker. The relief of never having to go back to Mimban ever again was like a weight off your chest.

Hunter chuckled at your enthusiasm, watching you happy dance from your seat.

"We’re at cruising speed," Echo said, unbuckling and turning to face you directly.

You perked up. "What is it, Echo?"

He crossed his arms and smirked.

"What?" You started to feel anxious under his playful stare.

"Oh, nothing…" His smirk only grew. "I just didn’t know you had such…voracious tastes."

Your eyes widened like saucers, reminiscent of the one you chucked at that pirate earlier.

"Oh, don’t play shy now," he pointed an accusatory finger at you. "I had to listen to how not shy you were for the past week!"

You wanted to vanish into the floor. You felt your entire body flush, and you knew they could see it because half of it was on damn display.

"You can’t blame me!" You crossed your arms, trying to defend yourself.

"Actually, I think I can," he laughed. "I thought omegas only picked one…"

"You said you’ve shared before!" You narrowed your eyes at him.

"She wasn’t in heat," Echo smiled.

"Is this what you two talk about when we’re on missions?" Hunter leaned against the galley doorway crossing his arms.

"Well, excuse me, you all smell remarkably similar. It’s a little difficult when you’re all different versions of the same person!"

Echo chuckled. "We all know that’s not how that works, sweetheart."

You couldn’t help but leave your mouth agape. "Can’t you just be happy I’m not dead? Must you tease me before we even get back to Coruscant?”

"I just didn’t know this about you," he stood up, shrugging and keeping his playful tone. "I never would have guessed our Tiny…Little sweet Tiny, would roll like this." He laughed.

You threw the blanket you had at him, making him laugh and bat it away.

"Alright, enough, quit playing with her," Hunter gathered you up, keeping you from playfully smacking Echo.

"She likes it," Echo flicked you on the forehead, making you yip as he sat back down in his copilot seat. "I want all of them," he mimicked your whiny voice with a snicker.

"Ahh!" You screamed, covering your face. "Shut up, Echo!"

"Help me, Alpha!" He smiled and laughed, watching you flail around in Hunter's arms, trying to kick him.

"Are you not wearing panties?" Echo gasped pointing a finger at you. The others whipped their heads around.

"Echo!" You screamed.

"Alright, someone has to be the responsible one and get you cleaned up," Hunter spun you around and walked you to the fresher, “Shower. Then we should probably talk before we get to Coruscant," Hunter said, running a gentle hand over your head affectionately.

"Can I borrow some civvies?" You asked, gesturing down to your dress.

Hunter scratched the back of his head. "They took ours too… sorry, pip." He felt bad. You sighed and nodded, letting him close the door, giving you some privacy.

You sighed. You’d be lying if you weren’t a little anxious about having the talk. The second you hit lucidity again after being in heat, you knew it was coming, but the way Crosshair kissed you at least gave you a little hope they weren’t going to just kick you to the side and pretend like it didn’t happen. 

At least not the sniper; the others? You weren’t as confident. 

Stepping into the fresher, you took a deep breath, letting the hot water wash away the past 48 hours. 

It was going to be an uncomfortable journey back home.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

So I usually HATE when someone puts images of clothes they had visualized for a fic, but because I struggled so much describing the image, I'm attaching my inpso images here (ahh I'm sorry I'm a hypocrite) and also Pip's iconic tray toss (just like daddy Crosshair)

Taglist: @substantial-exposure

@rains-on-kamino

@minimissmoo

@z-and-the-batboys

@aynavaano

@9902sgirl

@sideofhorny

[marvelnewssource]

Cover reveal for What if...

MARC SPECTOR WAS A HOST TO VENOM?

A VENOM AND MOON KNIGHT STORY by Mike Chen | October 22, 2024

So many worlds, so little time. Infinite possibilities, creating infinite realities. Long have I watched Marc Spector cheat death in the name of the Egyptian god Khonshu. But…what if Moon Knight was subsumed by a Venom from another universe?

Marc Spector is used to voices in his head. He’s used to waking up disoriented, unsure what his alters, Jake and Steven, might have been up to. He’s used to having an Egyptian god command him as Moon Knight, his avatar of justice and revenge. What he’s not used to: staring into the face of a literal, out-of-body doppelganger.

Another Marc, crash-landed from an alternate reality, begging for help? Yeah, that is a new one, even for him.

But before he can really process anything beyond Khonshu’s incessant alarm bells, it becomes clear this other Marc didn’t travel solo. Some kind of alien—a symbiote named Venom—casts off its current host and begins to merge with Marc, forcing Khonshu away from his chosen champion and claiming Moon Knight for its own. The formerly stark white suit that struck fear into the hearts of criminals now looms as a jet-black shadow over friends and foes alike. Marc’s lethal prowess fueled by Venom’s penchant for violence carves a trail of chaos as they comb through the vigilante’s torturous past.

Yet a sliver of hope remains: Finally free of Venom’s control, the other Jake and Steven re-gain consciousness to find themselves in a strange reality, without their Marc, but with a strange bird-like god insisting that “they will do.” Desperate, lost, and running out of time, the pair make a deal: become Khonshu’s new avatar to track Venom’s path of destruction, save this universe, and just maybe figure out a way back to their own.

[morimakesfanart]

Sindria's Prophet #41

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[AO3] [wattpad]

Sinbad x OC

*Mori goes to horny mecha *More sex ed things *Emotional/tonal whiplash ~POV Sinbad~ Mori couldn't keep their eyes off of him for days, but they turned away every time Sinbad returned their gaze. He was definitely getting under their skin. It was only a matter of time before they fully became his, but he wasn't certain he could make it happen before he left for the Kou Empire. It was only after he sat at his desk and couldn't seem to finish a single document that he couldn't deny Mori was under his skin too. Even the waves were pointing him away from his desk.

However, the King couldn't exactly leave when he had just started working -that was what Zepar was for. The bird circled the Black Libra Tower, and when it entered through an open window of Mori's office it wasn't his Beautiful Prophet inside. That was definitely Ja'far leaving the room holding a bunch of scrolls. And when he entered the court yard, the General was headed towards the White Capricorn Tower. Something told Sinbad that Ja'far was heading his way without the waves. He dropped control of the bird.

Sure enough, Ja'far entered his office with the scrolls and put them on his desk. "Sin, is what Mori wrote in these true?" Just glancing at the labels he knew, "I haven't read those ones yet, but I'm sure they are." "Read them now." Ja'far had not looked this upset with him in years. "I'll wait."

--- ~POV Sharrkan~ Mori was ranting and it was far worse than anything Yam had ever said. "Yeah, no! I don't care how pretty these are or how much of a tourist attraction they are! You have to stop selling and supplying quartz and wooden dildos!" The Prophet pointed one such facile at the group before her. "These materials are porous. They can't be properly sterilized, so they will eventually lead to infections no matter what orifice they're shoved into!" Sindria's best swordsman was stuck between covering his face or ears while Mori 'educated' him and the staff of the Red Light District. This was a mistake. 'Can the King just show up and kill me right now????' She sighed. "You can make a similar-ish affect to quartz with glass right? That's actually safe to use, easy to sterilize, and they can handle a wide range of temperatures so you can even use them for temperature play." The Prophet twirled the crystalline dick while talking. "I was surprised when I saw how advanced this country's glass is so there shouldn't be a problem making dildos out of safe materials with the glass work here." Sharrkan had thought she would just take notes or something and leave, not try to fix everything right then and there!!! What materials were safe, what practices were dangerous; 'didn't matter that she was also teaching them things they could do/use instead that would work better. Wasn't Mori supposed to be a huge virgin nerd like Yam??? Why did she know so much about all of this? There's no way this was just from her visions. The staff were the ones taking notes instead of the Prophet. 'At least they seem to be enjoying themselves.'

--- ~POV Sinbad~ Ja'far brought the remaining Fate scrolls Sinbad had yet to read, but only really wanted him to read parts of 2 of them for the conversation. The contents were telling, both in his mistakes of the past, and Ja'far's current glare. When his Beautiful Prophet first told him that he ran away from responsibility using 'Fate,' he thought he had found the true answer in the waves. But that was a contradiction. The waves were caused by people's decisions, so even if they guide people to opportunities it doesn't remove their agency. Without realizing it, Sinbad had fallen into another phantasm to protect himself from guilt. Some of the comments Mori made since they met had hinted at the real reason but it was clear she had no intention of telling him directly. All of the scrolls had signs of being edited here and there, but not these two. They were still in process. And so there was the truth written directly in the paragraphs after his release from slavery.

...He had long forgotten how to ask for emotional support ... Those feelings would fester every time he made another mistake until he was able to fully replace his guilt with the acceptance of 'Fate' as inevitable. He wouldn't be able to acknowledge his own potential for evil for another 15~ years...

That last line held the answer. 'His own potential for evil.' That was the point Mori was really talking around all this time. In her visions he hadn't been able to accept that side of himself until it was too late. He knew he was capable of such things on a factual level considering how he viewed some of his Kingly actions as 'necessary evils,' but that wasn't the same as acknowledging that truth in his Heart. The reason he had longed for the ways of his youth was because back then he hadn't done anything that would haunt the rest his life; he had yet to gamble in desperation only to hurt those around him. But even that wasn't really the truth. When Sinbad had read about when he left home after capturing the Dungeon all he could think of was how that action damned everyone in his village just as was revealed in the scrolls in front of him. He had been making this mistake since the start. 'Just what have I been doing all this time?'

Ja'far's darkened stare waited until he got through the 2nd scroll. "This is so much worse than how you made it sound. This is more than some kid thinking he's the chosen one." A hand went to his head as he tried to wrap his mind around everything. "Sin, why do you think we all swore our lives to help you achieve your dream?"

Sinbad couldn't look away from the scrolls. Doing so would only mean seeing the disappointment in his friend's eyes. He had spent so long keeping what happened in Parthevia a secret. There was nothing he could do about it now.

"I know you don't like sharing your plans, but I thought... Did you ever trust us to help you?! What was the point of gathering all of us then??"

The King opened his mouth, and the realization that he couldn't say the 'right' answer and believe his own words hit him much harder than Ja'far's accusations. His heart started racing to match the flow of the waves. The General may have only read those 2 scrolls but Sinbad had read everything leading up to them, so more of his past was fresh in his mind. Sure, he reached out to people to teach him things periodically, but any time he ran into a real problem he always took on that burden alone. Sinbad had expected 'support' from his Household Members and citizens, but never 'help.'

Sinbad lost control over his expression. "That's part of why I decided to change this path I'm on. Mori made it clear that I will repeat the mistakes of my past if I don't start relying on you all even when I..." He was unable to find the right words to finish his sentence.

"Sin." Ja'far practically hissed his name. "If you don't fix this bad habit of yours then I'll kill you myself, just like I promised all those years ago, before you can cause the 2nd Calamity."

"I'll count on that." He would rather that than be the one that almost destroyed the world. Taking a deep breath didn't help nearly as much as he hoped. "I think we've humored Mori long enough. I need to know for sure how I'm connected to the 2nd Calamity." ---

~POV Mori~ To be honest, I wasn't expecting the management of the Red Light District to believe me right away. But apparently, being officially announced as the Prophet was really good PR because they were very excited to receive some of my 'prophecies for the betterment of Sindria.' The waves had grown dangerously high during my info dumping. If I didn't know how much of a change a sexual revolution could cause from reading history I might have been concerned. Instead, it made my heart swell with pride.

Returning to my room empty handed was a bit disappointing, but it did make it easier to sneak back without being noticed. It also gave me time to make a space the bunch of the new glass dildos I preordered. I was definitely looking forward to the future.

"Finally!" Sharrkan groaned as we exited the district. "If I knew you were going to take so long figuring out-" Both of us froze in the gold gilded doorway.

'Why is Sinbad entering the Red Light District in the middle of the day???' That thought was immediately counter when I noticed Ja'far standing next to him. That meant he was here for official business, not pleasure. 'Why am I only now realizing I could have waited for him to leave the country before attempting this????' At least I wasn't carrying a bag of dicks. That would have been the most damning evidence. --- ~POV Sinbad~ When the guards had revealed that Mori was escorted to the Red Light District by Sharrkan, Sinbad was unwilling to wait for their return. However, something wasn't quite adding up to his expectations. Mori was happily walking out of the Red Light District, and Sharrkan was drained and depressed besides her.

Before the King could say anything, Mori greeted them. "Hello, you're Majesty, Ja'far! I was originally going to tell you after writing up a report first, but since you're here I'll let you know now: I realized I could share medical information for reproductive health here." She gestured behind her, "I just finished my first trip to see what is the current common knowledge, so I could better understand how I can help."

'Does that means Sharrkan didn't drag Mori here?' Even so she was talking a bit too quickly. She was definitely nervous about something.

Ja'far responded before the King could gather his thoughts. "Mori. You do remember that you promised not to invent anything, don't you?" His smile was not the nice one.

"Yes," she admitted without skipping a beat. "However I don't need to invent anything that we aren't already working on to help here." Mori's smile was unwavering.

Sinbad sought direct confirmation. "You really came here to figure out ways to improve this place?" ---

~POV Mori~ "Of course! Who do you think I am?" I said, you know, like a liar. I placed one hand on my hip, and the other over my heart for added flare. "The whole reason I came here was because the rubber experiments are coming along, and the same material can be used to make comfortable condoms you can actually feel through. That way no one has an excuse to not use them." The King and estranged prince coughed at my words. Ja'far's eyes widened. I took his lack of comment as a sign to continue. "We are already working towards rubber gloves. And what are the fingers on gloves other than tubes? We can make condoms by just making bigger tubes." I gave a perfect customer service smile to the man in charge of finances. "From my visions, I know how much trouble 'people' get into when they can't deny their desires, so I thought I could at least help with this part of the problem." "Mx. Prophet," Ja'far took a few steps forward and grabbed my hands. "You should have told me sooner! Something like is invaluable with a King like Sinbad." 'Fish, meet hook.' I softened my expression to lean into this pity angle. "I understand. I know how many complaints you've had to deal with because of him."

((Blatant Rose of Versailles reference ;3)) --- ~POV Sinbad~ This was a dilemma. Even though Sinbad had stopped taking partners, his Beautiful Prophet was none the wiser. This was a good opportunity to enlightened her, but there was something else he had to take care of first. Ja'far might have disliked Mori when they first met, but ever since the rebellion in Balbadd was stopped things started to change. They had started having periodic moments like this when their thoughts aligned. Sin didn't like it. He gently separated their hands and received their attention at the same time. "Hey now, I stopped asking for call girls weeks ago." On one hand, if Mori wanted something, Sinbad wanted to make sure she got it -if that was the assistance of one of his Generals so be it. But on the other hand, he didn't want anyone else catching Mori's eye. When he had heard that Sharrkan brought her to the Red Light District he had thought that one of his Household Members had betrayed him. From the look of things it was starting to seem like, instead of Sharrkan, it was Ja'far he should have been worried about. Ja'far took a few steps back. His eyes and brow scrunched in great disappointment and complete lack of fucks for the topic. "I think we will all feel better with this added protection considering your track record." "Yes, well..." There was no denying that. Sinbad cleared his throat into a fist to buy time as he listed the facts in his head: '-Mori has already admitted to her feelings for me before so clearly she wants to be with me. '-Mori is also aware of my own feelings even though she hasn't fully accept it yet. '-Mori has started working on condoms that are comfortable. 'She is clearly working towards our future, so we can have a long honeymoon before growing our family!!' Mori's expression was only marginally better than Ja'far's. "Are.... you sick?" The Prophet still trusted her visions far more than anything he could say. "I'm fine. I promise." This was a failure of a conversation. Sharrkan's snickering rubbed salt in the wound. There was nothing the Womanizer of the Seven Seas could say to clear his name. "...Okay." She clearly didn't believe him. Mori lightly clapped their hands together with a smile. "Well, on that bombshell, we'll let you go do whatever you were gonna do in the Red Light District." Regret. Humiliation. Was how he spent his life really such a bad thing for a future spouse? Wouldn't his experience and expertise mean that he would be guaranteed to satisfy them? Ja'far brought the topic around to their true purpose. "Actually Mori, we came to get you. We have some questions about the future you saw in your visions."

--- ~POV Mori~ The room they brought me to was the same one that lead to the balcony where I had dinner with Sinbad more than a month ago. As soon as we entered, the King started taking off his rings. Confusion spiked my anxiety. Sinbad gave me a reassuring smile. "I noticed during our meetings about Fate that you keep looking at my rings. When I remembered you know my Djinn's abilities it was obvious what you were worried about." He took off his remaining metal vessels and placed them on a coffee table. "I know I'll never use any of these on you, but actions speak louder than words at times like these." Ja'far followed his King's example and placed his metal vessels on the the table as well. I knew I looked at Zepar's ring a few times when talking about Fate, but I thought I made it seem like my eyes were wandering. I couldn't respond. My brain was still catching up and accepting what was happening. 'This isn't going to be about his trip to the Kou Empire...' I had already explained what visions I had of that trip during a meeting about preparing for it, but it was still the most likely topic I could think of. It wasn't until they settled in amongst the plush seating that I realized I should sit down too. Sinbad's expression went serious but he didn't feel angry. After a moment's hesitation he looked me in the eye. "The person who causes the 2nd Calamity is me, isn't it?" . . . . . . 'How????' The thought was immediately followed by the realization that since I hadn't responded right away there was no way they would believe anything other than admittance. I couldn't even consider the option. ((So that emotional whiplash of a cliffhanger, amiright? The chapter took so long to come out because- Surprised! That eye infection I had came back and being on the medication this time really messed me up. It's a stronger antibiotic since the last apparently didn't fully knock it out of me. I couldn't go outside without catching on fire and passing out, and I had to hyper monitor my diet. The doctor said I'm past the next stage so the dosage was cut in half. I feel more like a person again :D I'll be on it for at least another month. Wish me luck!! This chapter was also delayed because I ended up deciding to do Artober daily this year. It was my first year making a piece every day since Jake Parker ruined Inktober by trademarking it and doing a plagiarism. Anyway, I really enjoyed the challenge :D Inspired me to work on more of my original work and things. On that note, the next chapter is going to be delayed because I want to get a lucid dream one shot out by December 7th. I definitely chose that date for no reason in particular. It absolutely has nothing to do with it being a Jujutsu Kaisen dream. Promise UwU I also have an original piece I'm nearly done writing, but I'll wait to finalize it until I have the next chapter of Sindria's Prophet posted :3 The world and this country is on fire but that doesn't mean it's the end. We have survived every day up to this one, we can survive another. We will preserve.))

[heavenlyakin]

Keep Driving - Itoshi Rin x Fem!Reader

Description: You’re requested as a private chauffeur for a foreign soccer player for the weekend. It turns out to be more than just driving him around. 

Genre: Porn with plot 

Warnings: Protected sex, alcohol consumption, drunken sex, use of “good girl” and some other pet names, oral (f. and m. receiving), rin picks reader up once, use of the words “cunt” and “pussy”, and finally some nice aftercare! 

Word count: 5k (sorry lol something possessed me)

MINORS DNI

–

The collar of your shirt continues to scratch your skin, but you remain still, holding the sign with the name of your new, and first, client. Fidgeting with the sign, you glance down at the English written on the sign, hoping you spelled his name correctly. Apparently, it’s not his first time in the states for a soccer game, but the last driver from your company refused to drive for him again, so you’re hoping the experience goes smoothly and that you didn’t misspell his anime and set this off to a bad start, 

The terminal begins to fill with people, making their way to cars all around you. So, you step closer to the doors and away from the black Cadillac you’ve been assigned. A few people pass you, going to others holding signs, all having that typical look of someone on a mission. After several more minutes, you start to think that the client ignored you and called for a taxi. As you start to consider turning around and calling your supervisor, a tall man with the prettiest blue eyes you’ve ever seen steps in front of you. 

“Rin?” You ask and he gives a polite, but short, nod. “This way,” you gesture with your hand to the car and walk a few steps ahead to open the door for him. 

“Thank you, miss.” He says, his English smoother than people you know from your hometown.

You close the door behind him as he gets in, then put his bags in the trunk of the car. Letting out a quick sigh of relief, you get in the car. “So you're staying at the St. Regis hotel?” 

“I believe so.” He answers, not looking up from his phone in the backseat. 

You take that answer as a please stop talking to me and just drive, and so you do. The drive isn’t terribly long normally, but with the soccer game this weekend, traffic is terrible from the airport to the hotel in downtown D.C. 

Once you arrive, you get out quickly, running around the back of the car to open the door for Rin. However, he is already out by the time you get there. So instead, you open the trunk and get his bags. He stops you, his hand covering your wrist. 

“Let me,” he tells you and grabs his large bag with the other hand. He releases you and swings his duffel bag around onto his shoulder. “Thank you for driving me.” 

“You’re very welcome. Have a great day and good luck at your game!” You smile politely and nod to the duffel bag with Japan’s flag embroidered on the end of it. 

“Thank you,” he gives you a small smile and you smile brighter. 

As he turns to walk into the hotel, you go back to the driver's seat to continue the rest of your day. You have a few more clients scheduled during your shift, and can’t really be late since it’s your first day. 

–

Your phone rings early Saturday morning before you even hear the birds chirping. “Hello,” you answer without looking at who it is since that would require opening your eyes more. 

“Hey, —--, you have been requested as a private driver for the rest of the weekend.” Your supervisor’s deadpan voice greets you with the oh-so-wonderful news of work. 

“Who? I literally just started yesterday, Sam.” You sit up, rubbing your eyes. “No one even remembers me, how could they request me?” 

“I guess you left an impression on one. That pain in the ass, Rin Itoshi has requested you for the remained of the weekend as I said earlier. Why am I explaining myself to you?” He sighs. “Just get here by 7:30 so we can get you situated with an itinerary.” He hangs up. 

You let out a dramatic groan and flop back onto your bed, looking at the clock on your phone. 6:22 a.m. it reads. He called before the normal call time, and your alarm, of course. You lay there for a few more minutes before deciding you better get ready to go to work. 

It’s exactly 7:30 when you walk through the doors at the main office for the chauffeur company, going straight to your locker to grab your keys to the car you’ve been assigned for the day. Noticing the Cadilac symbol, you assume it’s the same one as yesterday. 

“Hi, I’m here to meet with Sam about the itinerary for me today.” You smile at the office assistant and she smiles back. 

“He said you could go right in when you get here.” She tells you and you thank her before going into Sam’s office. 

He’s staring at his computer when you walk in, stacks of papers and folders all over his desk. “Great, you’re on time. Take a seat.” 

You sit in the open chair, the other is stacked with more folders and papers. “So, is it going to be absolutely terrible?” You ask. 

“I guess if you hate soccer it will be. He included a ticket to the game for his driver for tonight, so you get to attend and drive the man around. Lucky you,” he says, no emotion in his voice. “Here is the itinerary, you have to take him to a few places this morning and then the field it looks like.”He hands you the printed itinerary. 

“Is that all?” You joke, laughing quietly. 

“You wish,” Sam actually cracks a smile. “He has dinner plans after and then you have to take him back to the airport Monday.” 

“What about Sunday?” YOu ask, thinking you might have the day off.

“Oh, that’s going to be an on-call day. He will call you when he needs you, so you can hang out at home but when he calls us or you, you need to get there asap. Most employees hang out here starting at 7 a.m. on days like that.” 

“Great,” you sigh, looking over the paper in your hands. “Do I at least have Tuesday off?” 

“Sure,” he shrugs. “Now get going, you have an 8:30 pick-up time.” 

You leave, sitting in the Cadilac you start to commit the schedule of today’s trips to memory. You’re early to the hotel, so you take another look at the itinerary, mentally quizzing yourself until you’re sure you won’t need to look at it again. A few minutes before 8:30 you pull up to the front of the hotel, getting out and waiting by the back door of the passenger side of the car to open for Rin when he appears. 

“Good morning, Mr. Itoshi,” you greet him when he walks up to the car from the hotel. Opening the door. “I hope you enjoyed your night in D.C.” 

He looks unpleased, so you don’t say much more as you close the door and go to your driver’s seat. You notice he doesn’t use his phone much on the drive to the training facility nearby the stadium he’ll be playing at tonight. He looks focused on watching the traffic and scenery drive by so you don’t speak much more; not wanting to interrupt whatever he’s thinking about. 

Once you arrive at the training center, you park the car out front, hopping out, and opening the back door for Rin. 

“Here you go, sir.” You smile politely and he nods and speaks a soft thank you. 

As he walks into the training center, you get back into the car, planning on grabbing Starbucks in between taking him from the training center back to the hotel. With the two-hour gap, you figure you have plenty of time. 

You were wrong. For whatever reason, the nearest Starbucks was closed, so you had to find another one that clearly is drawing all the business from the previous one since it’s not open. So, now you’re five minutes late to pick up Rin. 

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Itoshi, traffic was terrible.” You apologize and open the door for him. 

Is hair still looks to be damp from a shower, you notice as it sticks to his forehead, giving him a younger appearance. “Should have left earlier, then.” He comments as he slides into the car. 

The rest of the day you make it a point to not go off except when you have more than three hours to do something, unlike now. Your stomach growls, so you park the car in the metered lot to go grab lunch at a restaurant beside the hotel Rin is staying in. It’s not busy this time of day, so you figure it’s worth the splurge and risk. You have an hour and a half to rest between taking him to the stadium for the game, then you’re basically off until it’s over later tonight. 

It goes by quickly, the mix of customers all in and out as fast as you were. When you get back to the car you note that you have plenty of time to pick Rin up, so you spend it on your phone browsing Tumblr for something interesting to read. Nothing comes up in the short half hour you have, so you lock your phone and make your way to the hotel entrance to pick your client up. 

He’s waiting outside when you get there, so you glance at the dashboard clock to make sure you’re not late, but you’re early. So you let out a sigh of relief. Getting out of the car, you notice he’s walked up to you to meet you at the back passenger door. 

“Early this time, nice.” He almost smiles, you think anyway. It wasn’t quite a smile, but you’re not sure it wasn’t one either. 

“I try my best, after all, it is just my second day driving anyone.” You’re not sure why you tell him this, but you can’t help yourself. “So, thank you for requesting me.” 

This time he does smile, just slightly. Only the right said of his mouth curling upward. “Of course. Now open the door for me before I change my mind and request someone new.” 

You think it’s a joke or an attempt at one, but you can’t tell. So you open the door quickly and mutter an apology. The traffic has died down from the morning and early afternoon lunch rush, but you worry you might get caught in the lunch rush, so you take a few different routes that avoid most of the restaurants and fast food joints. 

The stadium appears ahead, and you wonder how many times he’s played there. You don’t follow many sports, so you’re not aware if he’s big in the industry or not. 

“Have you played here many times?” You ask as you wait in line behind a row of cars, all dropping off players from both team USA and team Japan. 

“A few now. I think this will be my fourth.” He answers you after thinking for a moment. “Do you watch?” 

“No, not really.” You pull forward a car length more. “I’m excited to watch tonight though. I’ve never been to a big game like this.” 

“Hopefully it won’t be as boring as last year,” he scoffs, and you look in the rearview mirror to see he looks utterly bored. 

You’re not sure what he means, so you can’t comment. All you can do is hope it’s not boring either. 

–

Between the shouting, drunken fans, and constant assault of popcorn, you actually enjoyed your time at the game. Japan won 2 to 0 against the U.S. team, but you found yourself cheering for Japan more than the home team. Rin scored both goals during the game and your heart raced with excitement each time. With your very limited knowledge of the sport, you could still tell he outranked everyone on the field. 

However, it’s a fight to get back to your car. You have 90 minutes to get to it and pick Rin up from a different location behind the stadium, so you are able to go the opposite way of most of the guests leaving, but it’s still not easy. When you make it to the pick-up location, you note that there are several more cars waiting for their clients. Many of them are standing outside the car smoking, looking incredibly unprofessional. 

When you get out of your car, you wait by the back passenger side door, ready for whenever Rin is out and ready to go. Others begin to get into their cars, their drivers taking off as fast as they can. It’s several more minutes before Rin exits the building and you open the car door for him. 

“Great game,” you smile as he slides in. 

“It was alright.” He says before you shut the door; making you wonder if he was bored during it despite the excitement surrounding the field in the stadium. 

As you get back in the car, you glance a few more times at Rin. He really is handsome, you think. You shake your head, clearing those thoughts away. The drive to the hotel takes longer than you assumed, with traffic still pouring out from the stadium and general Friday night buzzing around. Once you make it, an hour later, you open the door for Rin to leave. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow if I need a ride somewhere.” He tells you before disappearing behind the hotel doors. 

Luckily, the chauffeur agency isn’t far from the hotel, so you return the car keys and your gas card for the night. A few people are coming in for the night shift as you walk out to your personal car. You get a text from a friend begging you to meet her downtown for drinks, so you plug the address into your GPS and go. 

The road looks all too familiar and you realize the GPS is taking you right to the hotel that Rin is staying at. You had heard that it has a nice bar, but you’ve never been. Suddenly you feel extremely underdressed. 

Of course, you were right. All your friends are dressed for a night out and you’re in your black slacks and white button-up from work. It’s not like it’s the most unflattering outfit in the world, but you wish you’d stopped home to change at least. They’re all already blitzed when you arrive, they start calling your name and laughing uncontrollably. 

When you get to the bar to order a drink, you notice a familiar face sipping on a dark liquor. Rin sets his glass down, his eyes connecting with yours. You’re tempted to move to the empty seat beside him, but you stay standing, two seats away. 

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks.  

“A raspberry mojito if you have the stuff,” you ask sweetly and he nods. 

A few moments later the drink is in your hand and you notice Rin is still looking at you. Smiling, you make eye contact once more and go back to your friends, joining in on the conversation about the latest drama within the friend group. Three drinks in, you’re sharing your own stories with the group. 

As you begin to tell another, you feel a hand on your shoulder. “Excuse me, can I talk to you.” 

You look up and are met with those beautiful teal-blue eyes. “Sh-sure,” you excuse yourself from your friends and follow him to another part of the bar that’s less crowded. 

“Are you stalking me?” He asks, frowning. 

You laugh, loudly. “Are you kidding me? Of course not.” 

“Then why are you here?” He inquires. 

“My friends are here, they invited me out. Not that it’s any of your business, Mr. Itoshi.” You grin. 

“My name is Rin, stop calling me Mr. Itoshi.” He snaps and you raise your eyebrow. 

“Why are you bothering me? I’m off shift, and clearly not in any shape to drive you anywhere.” You shift your weight from your right foot to your left, stumbling a little. 

Rin reaches out and catches your arm, steadying you. “God, why does it have to be you?” He sighs. 

“What does that mean?” 

“Just come with me,” he takes your empty glass from you and drops it on the bar. Then he begins to drag you towards the hotel entrance from the bar. 

“Where are we going?” You whine as you try and keep up with him. 

“Just shut up,” he snaps as he presses the elevator buttons. 

You shut up, getting on the elevator with him and following him to what you assume is his room. It’s confirmed when he pulls out his keycard and guides you into the room. He tosses his sports jacket onto the empty desk chair as you walk into the room, admiring the size of it. You’ve never been in a luxury hotel, after all, so you try and commit the memory to detail. 

“Why am I here?” You ask, sitting on the chaise at the end of the bed. 

He stands in front of you, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I can’t get you out of my head, and I don’t know why. It’s… incredibly frustrating.” 

“Frustrating?” You tilt your head to the right, taking in what he’s saying. There’s no way he means what you think he means…

He drops to his knees in front of you, his hands on your thighs, parting them enough for him to move between them and look up at you. He doesn’t have to tilt his head up much, given he’s almost eye to eye with you even now since he’s so tall. “I don’t beg, but I will ask once. Do you want this?” 

Oh god, he does mean what you think he means. 

“Y-yes,” you stutter, shocked but your stomach is already twisting with desire. 

He’s fast, his hands taking your face between them and pulling you in for a heated kiss. His lips move against yours as you process what’s happening. You want it, you want it so bad. You can’t even remember the last time you had fun like this. 

His hands move from your face to your ass, pulling you to the edge of the chaise. You gasp against his lips, and you feel him grin against yours. His kisses are mesmerizing, making you unable to think about anything but him. You bite down softly on his bottom lip, earning a little moan from Rin. 

You grab the hem of his shirt, sliding your fingers up his body, feeling the muscles tense under your soft touch. You drag your nails down his stomach, scratching him lightly as his tongue floods into your mouth. You moan against him, sucking lightly on his tongue to try and earn another moan, which you succeed in. His fingers move from your ass to your pants, fiddling with the buttons on your work slacks until they come undone. He pulls away from your lips and you whimper quietly. 

“Up,” he spanks your ass twice lightly with his right hand. You stand up, letting him pull your pants off your thighs and allowing him to guide your legs up so he can slide them over your feet. “Good girl,” he kisses each thigh once, just above your knee before kissing up your right thigh to just outside your underwear. 

His fingers tighten on the back of your thighs as he pulls you closer, so his face is right against your cunt, his tongue slipping out of his mouth and running up the center of your panties and making your legs shake. 

“Rin!” You gasp, gripping his shoulders. 

He does it again, this time teasing your clit through the fabric. You squeeze his shoulders, leaning forward and pushing yourself against him even more. He pulls away and glares up at you. 

“Stay still,” he commands, looking up at you with an intense look you’ve only seen him have on the field. 

You nod, unable to speak as he slips your underwear down your thighs. You step out of them and watch as he tosses them to the side of the room. He looks up at you once with something of a mix of a smirk and a smile before he goes in. His tongue laps against your folds, giving special attention to your clit. 

It’s overwhelming, the feel of his warm tongue against your wet cunt and his fingers squeezing the backs of your thighs. You almost feel like you could buckle and fall overtop of him, but that would ruin all the fun, so you force yourself to stay standing while he eats you out.

“Rin, I’m gonna buckle,” you warn him a few moments later, and instead of replying or acknowledging you, his righthand releases your thigh. His middle finger is inside you in a second, pumping in and out. “Fuck, oh fuck,” now you’re sure you’re going to buckle. 

Your legs begin to shake, your knees almost buckling but you find the strength to stay standing for a few more moments. “Rin, please, you have to let me lay down or I’m gonna fall.” 

He pulls his face away, his finger still inside you. “You can do it, you’re going to cum for me at least once like this.” 

He fucks you harder with his middle finger, his thumb toying with your clit. 

“Come on, you can do it pretty baby, cum for me.” He replaces his thumb with his lips, sucking on your clit. 

It takes all you have to not fall over top of Rin. You cum, crying out his name slurred with curses as your thighs shake vigorously. Rin’s finger stops and he pulls out of you and his face away, smiling up at you. 

“Very good girl,” he licks his lips. 

You wish you could take a video with your mind at that moment. You’d replay it every night when you remembered this moment. He stands up, pulling you against him and kissing you again. You taste yourself against your lips and groan, he’s messier than you expected he would be. 

You stumble back, your legs finally giving out, and Rin catches you, holding you up. He lifts you up enough to carry you to the bed, his lips never leaving yours. He drops you on the bed and removes his shirt while he’s standing above you. You take this opportunity to begin unbuttoning the white blouse you’ve been wearing. 

Rin’s eyes graze over your body as you get the last button undone, revealing the lacy white bra you had on underneath. You sit up, ridding yourself of the shirt and reaching for RIn’s pants. You unbutton and unzip them quickly, pushing them down his thighs as far as you can reach. 

He’s hard and tense against his black underwear. Your eyes widen at the size of him before you even see the full length outside the fabric. You rub up his length once, watching as his eyes close and his head tilts back. You grip his cock tighter, wanting to torment him the same way he tormented you. 

“Is that all I get after all I did for you?” His tone is teasing, and you like this side of him. 

“Maybe,” you tease back, letting go of him and moving around so you can lay on your stomach on the bed in front of him. Before you can lay flat, Rin’s fingers unclasp your bra and it falls off your shoulders and you’re left completely naked in front of him. 

Once it’s tossed off the bed, you gather yourself and lick up the back of his cock through his underwear, giving him the same treatment he gave you. He grabs your chin, stopping you and forcing you to look at him. 

“You can’t beat me in my own game,” he says, his eyes intense again. “Now show me your best, pretty girl.” 

You stare at him, eyes glossy, as you pull his underwear down his thighs. He helps you, taking them off with his pants and kicking them off to the side. When you finally see his cock, you’re intimidated. He’s long and thick. 

“Is anything about you not impressive?” You ask, taking his cock in your hand. 

He rolls his eyes. 

You take the tip of his cock between your lips, kissing it softly before sucking on the tip and rubbing your tongue down the bottom. He moans quietly, barely audible to you. Taking more in your mouth you use your hand to jerk off the rest of his length. As much as you’d love to take him all in, you’re certain you couldn’t without more practice. 

“Good girl,” he moans, tangling his fingers in your hair to guide you more. You fall into a rhythm, bobbing your head and using your hand and spit down the remaining length to make sure he’s receiving as much pleasure as possible. 

He pulls your head back after a few more seconds, gripping you by your hair and tilting your head up. “As pretty as you look with my cock in your mouth, I need to be in that pretty pussy of yours.” 

Your thighs squeeze together and you’re desperate to have him inside you. You feel yourself growing wetter at just the thought. You sit up on your knees, watching as Rin goes back to his pants, searching the pockets until he comes back with a condom. He rips open the package with his teeth and then slips it over his cock. 

“Bend over the bed,” He orders you and you do, quickly moving into position. 

You feel the tip of his cock between your folds first, and he teases you with the head of his cock. Rubbing it down your slit, he coats it with your wetness before slowly pressing into you. You moan loudly, adjusting to the stretch due to the size of his cock inside you. It feels overwhelmingly good, taking your breath away. 

“Rin, oh my god,” you whimper into the white bedspread beneath you. “You feel so good.” 

He moans, thrusting fully inside you and you moan louder. Your toes curl against the floor and you grip the bedspread between your fingers. He begins thrusting into you, hard and steady, setting the most delicious pace you’ve ever experienced. 

He leans forward, his hand rubbing up your back to your right shoulder, before gripping you tightly and using you as leverage to thrust deeper inside you. You nearly cum at the first thrust, but resist the urge and cry out loudly, mumbling some incoherent words as you do. 

“Rin,” you whimper, feeling that oh-so-familiar knot in your lower stomach, ready to break from the tension. “Wanna cum,” you whine. 

“Cum for me, pretty baby,” he moans into your ear, thrusting harder and deeper than before. 

By the second thrust, you're squeezing around his cock, making him moan louder in your ear. You cum around him while writhing below him. You can’t even make a sound you’re so focused on the climax washing through your body in waves. 

“That it, such a good girl.” He kisses you between your shoulders and you shutter from the intimacy of it all. “I’m almost there, just a few more seconds.” 

He was telling the truth, after a few seconds and a few more sloppy thrusts he cums, his body shuttering above yours. He stays inside you, holding himself up with his arms on either side of you, kissing your back and shoulders softly a few times. When he pulls out, you turn around, sitting up and looking at him. 

“What are you doing?” He asks, looking concerned. 

“Nothing, just looking at you.” You shrug, flopping back on the bed. 

He sits on the bed, leaning back against the pillows and headboard. “Come here,” he asks and you crawl up beside him, realizing just how massive the bed is. It must be a king, you think to yourself. 

He pulls you against his chest, rubbing your arms with his fingers gently and kissing the top of your head. You snuggle into him, pleasantly surprised by the sweetness of this all. You close your eyes, listening to the sound of Rin’s heartbeat slowing down. 

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks quietly, this time rubbing his thumb against your cheek. You look up at him and nod. 

“I feel great, Rin.” You smile. 

“I’m going to run you a bath, okay? I’ll be right back, don’t worry.” He kisses the top of your head again and slips out from under you, disappearing into the bathroom to your right. YOu hear the water start running. “Come on,” he stands in the doorway and you get up. 

On shaky legs, you make your way to the bathroom with Rin, noting just how wonderful he’s being in the aftermath of the intense hookup. Rin gets into the massive tub first, opening his legs for you to slip in between them in front of him. As you do, you lean back against him. He wraps his long arms around you, wrapping you up in him as he does. You rest your head on his shoulder, turning slightly to look up at him. 

“Rin,” you say softly, as he begins to rub your arms with warm water. 

“Hmm?” He hums. 

“Who knew you were such a king of aftercare?” You joke, reaching up and poking his cheek. 

He laughs a short breathy one. “Oh, shut up and stop trying to ruin it then.” He smacks your hand away. “Or else I’ll drown you.” 

“What a lovely headline that’ll be in the morning.” You tease back, splashing him with water.