#my expectations were low! i knew better than to think that this show would reflect fan thought and care

[fushiguruuzzzz]

+ CHAPTER SIX // GROUPIES 

series mlist 

Tags — alcohol, Toge highkey jumpscares yn like he’s from fnaf, “he’s right behind me isn’t he… 😟” type moment, that’s all I think?? Words — 1.0k 

It took you a moment to realize what was going on. The lighting in the rustic, shabby bar was dim, just barely casting a glow over the sharp edges of the many faces before you. Nobody should’ve expected you to be paying attention to that, your only duty was to keep your voice melodic and make sure you didn’t trip on the chord of the microphone. You failed to notice the odd glances shared by the instrument players behind you, as well as the eyes wide as saucers staring at you from the farthest wall. 

Only when the set was over and you finally got a chance to breathe—or so you thought—did you get an inkling of awareness. You were leant against the battered wood of the bar, the material oddly cool compared to your flushed skin as you waited for your drink. Nobara was beside you, mindlessly chattering away about the rip in her favourite skirt or the way a guy in her class was looking at her, but then her expression changed. She glanced anxiously behind you, making motions with her head that were meant to be some sort of signal but ended up making her look like some sort of challenged bird. 

���Y/n,” she gritted, eyes narrowing. “Be…hind… you…” 

Your head turned, but you didn’t even get a glimpse of him before he spoke. His voice was teasing, but it cut through the background noise like a gunshot in the midst of a quiet night. “So this is why you couldn’t go out with me?” 

Nobara’s eyes widened, but there was a knowing gleam in them that told you she had this all figured out. She might’ve seemed dull, a hot-headed, fashion obsessed girl concerned with nothing much, but there were more layers to her than her well-coordinated outfits. “I’ll leave you to it,” she smirked. She swiped her drink from the counter, and then all that was left of her was spilled droplets of her overly fruity beverage. 

You turned, meeting his eye. Your hip pressed into the wood, casual and inviting as you smiled. “If I denied that, would you believe me?” 

He shook his head, a huff of amusement leaving him. In the low lights, his hair reflected a soft gold, his skin looking smooth and ivory. He looked… good. Really good. You barely knew him, yet it was taking everything in you not to reach out, to run your hands over the sharp ridges of his face, stare into the soft, purple eyes that looked at you now. You’d never taken much interest in boys, never giggled and gossiped with the other girls at sleepovers while you painted your nails and braided each other’s hair. Toge seemed to flip that 180°, to give you that giddy feeling in your stomach that you’d grown to know as butterflies, but never felt personally. Not until now, at least. 

He leaned forward just a small bit, almost unnoticeable, almost involuntary. His face didn’t show it, but he could feel his heart pulsing in his ears. “You know, I figured this—” he motioned to the stage, microphone sitting prettily where you’d been standing just minutes before.  “—would be something worth mentioning. An ice breaker, maybe?” 

Your chest rose and fell with a quiet chuckle, one that couldn’t be heard beneath the clinking of glasses and drunken chatter. “But then I’d lose my mysterious allure, wouldn’t I?” 

“No offence, but I’m pretty sure stuttering over text cancels that out,” he shot back. His lips curled up into a grin, wide and genuine. You two seemed to be on the same frequency, something new and refreshing and undeniably enticing, growing with every retort. You laughed, and he felt his smile grow until it hurt his cheeks. “I can’t say I’m any better, though,” he admitted, leaning an elbow on the corner of the bar. 

“I know.” 

His brows knitted together in playful offence. “Hey! You’re not supposed to agree.” 

“You want me to lie?” 

“You lied about being a literal rockstar, so is a fib to protect my emotions that much of a stretch?” he said dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. Your body curled forward with laughter, eyes crinkling and hand reaching to cover your mouth. Maybe it was the alcohol or the breathlessness from singing, but you were pretty sure your head spinning was caused purely by Toge. His energy, the way the air around him seeped into you like it was meant to mingle with you all along—it drew you in like a magnet and sent your senses into orbit. 

He laughed with you, soft and carefree. It might’ve been nothing but a 30 minute break in the show, yes, but the moment seemed infinite to you. Being around him didn’t feel like a collection of moments, it seemed to stretch on, an endless tunnel of golden lights and coffee and smiles that left your face feeling sore. 

Across the room stood your friends, all clumped together and oddly silent. They gazed across at your figures, seeming to glow with the warmth that could only be brought from within. You didn’t know it, but they all knew what was to come, and they were… happy. For you. For him. They didn’t know Toge very well, and you didn’t either, but things felt different when he was around. Your eyes gleamed with just a little more light, something soft and bright and doughy, like how you looked when you came home after a long time away. It was slightly unnerving (in Megumi’s words), sure, but beautiful nonetheless. There was an unspoken sense of acquaintance between the three, shared between glances and the distance between you and them. 

Just then it was only you and Toge and the heavy warmth in your chest, and that was completely okay. 

Cat’s outta the bag ig???

maybe that should’ve been the chapter name

whatever I already had them planned out

Toge is yn’s groupie confirmed

I haven’t mentioned whether maki and Megumi are cousins this time, so view it as you wish

Hitting the halfway mark… this one is a very different dynamic than bttoh I think… Maybe I don’t have this series as much as I like to pretend I do… ig… I’ve been so chopped lately someone kill me. AND the Moodboard I posted flopped really bad do yall hate me be honest

Taglist — 50/50

@anotherwriternamedclara @ruruisru @adoresia @auroratumbles @sh0ot1ngst4r @soobin1437 @mystic-megumi @cinnamxnangel @lizbix @s3ns4ti0n4l @anonnieghost @s4toruz @gumims @bubybubsters @k4ss11333 @rreveurdoll @kaged-kitty @rwura @aldebrana @hqnge @good-mourning0 @daisies-and-domming @vi0let-writes @dazaisfavgf @hearts4aloise @coolgirl458 @keyaea @jealovsie @sirenla @academiq @mammoanlmao @moonchhu @ichcocat @blubearxy @hayl09 @q2uq2u @potteraep @fiannee @lailakys @jxisnwaol @treeguzzler @nanaanatiion @zayuriluvs @kr1nqu @cloudxox @azinniyaa @laaalaaaloooppppsiiieeeee @rottingvxmpire @gradmacoco @spkyssn

[number-1-kuaidul-fanboy]

Wow... Episode 80 was great

I... I expected nothing from this episode. If anything, I thought I would really hate it but no, this episode was actually really fun, along with genuinely hitting me in the feels. I'm gonna go into spoilers below the read more so if you haven't seen the episode, don't read it.

Overall though, it was a definite improvement from last week for me and a real contender for my favourite episode of Go Rush. Yes, I loved it THAT much.

So Zaion.

I think I've made it no secret that I hated his guts for a while. I couldn't care less about his furniture store plotline and last arc got way better for me when it stopped focusing on him. So knowing all this, I went into episode 80 with low expectations. I dreaded the episode having Yuhi lose and get turned into furniture and for us to have to get two duels in a row against Zaion. Or worse, the whole arc derailing to suddenly focus on him.

So I was incredibly delighted that Yuhi won. He's really been on a hot streak lately when he used to win and lose pretty equally. He's become my favourite of the three protagonists. Even before his victory, his positive energy throughout the duel was infectiously endearing. I love Yugioh protagonists who can have so much fun duelling and stay positive even when a lot is on the line or they're on the brink of losing. It's also a rather subtle non intrusive way to draw parallels between Yuhi and Yuga which I appreciate.

But the real highlight of this episode for me was Zaion.

I never expected this show would ever make me feel genuine sympathy for this character, let alone actually relate to him. I predicted rather early into the episode that he knew on some level that this fictional reality, and his highly successful furniture store, wasn't real but that he didn't care because he wanted to stay in this fantasy that was so much better than his reality. It's... a real thing people do, including myself at times. I think many of us can think of a time where we were a little too engrossed in something that wasn't real, to the point of neglecting our real lives. So to see that idea reflected in Zaion... that just really spoke to me.

I don't know if I can quite say I like him overall taking his past portrayals into account but I can say for certainty that I loved him in this episode: completely taken aback by Yuhi's energy, as well as Yuhi figuring out that he knew this world wasn't real and that... that damn scene where all the fantasies fade away and after being upset for a bit, vows to make those dreams a reality. Finally deciding that rather than escaping to his fantasy, he's going to work to make his reality more like that fantasy. And that's... that's just very inspiring to me.

Good job, Go Rush. You really knocked it out of the park with this one. Here's to the hope that the rest of this arc can keep this up.

[its-teeem]

Basil? is Great at Conversations

Decided to try my hand at writing because Basil? haunts my every waking hour.

This is set after chapter 19 where Dorian practically confesses to murdering Basil but Henry thinks it’s a joke. Keep in mind this is in the tpodg mindscape au.

“Poor Harry,” It cooed. “If only he knew that everything he hates is packaged neatly inside of you.” 

Dorian tried not to face it, hearing it pace around behind him loudly. Instead, he continues to look at the new assortment of jewels he’s been gifted from some noble from some other dinner party he couldn’t be bothered to remember. It’s barely enough to distract himself from its voice.

“I have no doubt of the spectacle he would make, flinging himself away from you like one does from a dead animal.” It stopped walking, deciding to stand at Dorian’s left. “Harry always had an adoration for the dramatic.” 

It leaned in to peer at the opened glass case where the jewels were placed, carefully reaching out a gloved hand to pick one up to view it closer. 

“It matches Harry’s eyes.” It said, sounding rather fond. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

Against his better judgment, Dorian turned tentatively to look at it, only to see its empty eyes looking at the jewel held tenderly between its thumb and finger. It was smiling, but that too looked hollow. No matter how much it sounded like Basil, it never quite managed to replicate his impressions. 

“It’s humorous how accurately Harry was able to describe you in the piano room,” It was laughing now, rotating the jewel to inspect its cut. “You truly are nothing but a vulgar, low born, beast.”

“And you’re dead.” Dorian told it, sounding more like an attempt of an affirmation than a truth. “Why won’t you go anywhere else instead of irritating me with your presence. All you do is insult me, following me like some lovesick maiden without any of the beauty and appeal!” 

It tilted its head, grinning wider as it took note of the tremble in Dorian’s hands. Dorian hated its smile, how it would look at him like an unruly child. He hated how it squinted its eyes at him, clearly amused by the spectacle Dorian surely was to it.

“You make it sound like I’m to blame for my circumstance,” It answered softly, placing the jewel back in the case. “You’re the one who killed me dear boy, you’re the one who robbed me of a proper grave as well.” 

“It wasn’t my fault! All of this is because of you and your wretched painting!” Dorian defended himself, slamming the glass case shut in an attempt to catch its fingers under the lid. Unfortunately it expected his reaction and managed to move them just at the right time “You’re the one who wanted to bother me when I didn’t desire to speak to you. You’re the one who insisted on coming into my home and proceeded to follow me into the attic!” 

“So I’m to blame for trusting you?” It replied, delighted by Dorian’s reasoning as it tapped its finger on the glass. “It’s astonishing the lengths you go to rid yourself of any responsibility! You really can’t handle the consequences for your own actions. It's rather childish dear.” 

Dorian looked into its eyes as it leaned in closer, putting itself at eye level with him. In a sudden fit of loathing, he lifted his hands and grabbed it’s neck, tightening his grip. It didn’t move nor react, it really didn’t care as Dorian put more of his strength in strangulating it. It merely continued to look at him, empty eyes showing him his own reflection. Dorian hated how his reflection looked in its eyes. 

“I hate you.” He told it, finally letting go of its neck. He didn’t even leave a single bruise. “I’ve always hated you.”

“That’s quite alright Dorian, anything you say is of no worth to me.”

END

Yes, I drew fanart of my own made up scenario. Enjoy!!! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و

[writingthy]

9 Daylilies

warnings: anxiety, self-harm, family abuse and death mentioned, curses, negative thoughts

a/n: English isn't my first language but I will try. so if there are any criticisms, free to tell me <3

Chapters: Synopsis ┃ Next ┃ Prev ____________________________________________________

Image courtesy of MJ.

No matter what happens, remember it isn’t your fault.             I gave myself days to decide about it,             No sleep, no other business. Just this.             I can’t write you the reason but know that it wasn’t because of that night.             In my very last moment, I hope for you to be last memory I remember.             At least that would give me a piece of mind.             I love you, Kian.                        For so long and always.             I’m going to be on your side until you set me free.

I destroyed that box. My hands bleeding from the rusty hammer, I kept missing on purpose. Red filled each shard, the glass reflecting the open wounds. It looks sharp, everything looked sharp – all looking at me, intense, tight, dark, numb – nothing makes sense but I managed to destroy this box. My eyes move to the leaves near it, two stems of daylilies, mangled. I want to rip it, fucking rip it to shreds until there’s nothing to remind me of her. She said it wasn’t my fault so who’s is it? Who should I blame? Who should I- Andrea’s eyes disrupted my sight, all attention to the hammer she stole from my hands, her grip on my shoulders tightened as a way to stop me moving. She looks mad, she looks sad, she looks confuse. Everything at once, I watched it all. She was disappointed and worried at me, same time as she pitied my bleeding fingers. “Have you gone insane? We asked you if you needed us, we were here. You said nothing, shit, you didn’t even talk. You just immediately walked to your room, bring out a hammer and then what? Hurt yourself? Is this what you want? Blood and fucking… Really Kian? We’re this low? I know how different people cope but this is- this is stupid… this is… I don’t why you would do this. We’re all mourning. I knew something was off when you we’re silent the whole funeral but I didn’t expect for you to act like this the moment we got back. We just saw how Clara was… Can we not? One death is enough. Your mother is not made of steel, if she knew about this- She won’t take. She can’t take it. She’s struggling as it is. I don’t want to greed you from being sad, that’s normal, you should be. BUT THIS? Fucking hammering shit and then butchering your hand- Is this all you can think of? Is this how we show we’re sad? Did you think this is what she wants? What she wanted? You know her better than anyone, right? You said she’s fucking kind, can’t you also be fucking kind to yourself then? Do you have to hurt more to ease it- Because trust me, that is not how it works! If you hurt yourself more, nothing changes, nothing loses, IT JUST HURTS MORE!” I couldn’t see her expression, but I could hear it, I could feel it. I couldn’t dare to turn to her, focused on the hand gesturing as her voice got louder – it almost moved closer, and for a second, I woke up from the trance of my ill intent. I tried opening my mouth to speak to her, but what comes out sounded as a defense, “I know it’s not my fault.” – “… Then what the fuck were you doing?” her edged tone cut me off, her body finally relaxed but our distance got shorter, she’s walking towards me and in the state of panic I shouted, “IT’S HER. IT’S CLARA’S FAULT!” Andrea stopped. She was silence for a while, before whispering, “What? Clara’s fault?” – “She said it wasn’t mine. So, who else? There were only us that day, only us two. If it isn’t me then it must be her. It’s her fault.” Maybe the thought came to me when I watched her lying inside that white coffin, holding that fucking bouquet. Maybe it was when they we’re dropping dirt in her last presence. Maybe it was when I read her letter. Hell, maybe it was even when I started destroying that box. All I know, is that… if she said it wasn’t my fault, it’s not. Then that means, it’s her’s. Not mine. Not mine. It’s not mine… not my fault that she… she… it’s not. I suddenly felt something wiping my face, I didn’t even realize that I was crying until I could feel skin in my tears.

I gazed up, Andrea was watching in front of me, shock in her face but both of her hands free, they were down on her side. If so, who’s- I turned to see… Mama. She looks tired. She looks like she was crying too. She… looks like a wreck… Just like me. I look like mama. I could see her lips quiver, words forming, it was soft and low. “Kian… Does it hurt? Want me to… to take care of it?” She placed her hand to mine, caressing each finger, wounds not even feeling pain despite being cradled, “We have to… put some… band aids… And also… Andrea. Keep the hammer, away. Place it in, you choose- Also tell your nanay to cook dinner. Because I have to tend to your cousin, okay?” She was sniffing between words, it was only her voice that I heard the whole night. I remembered mama sleeping beside me that night, the next day, the whole month. Some nights, I could feel her hugs as I silently sob, every outburst unpredictable. I could start tearing up while eating, while watching television, or even while walking. Spontaneous, it all felt spontaneous. I felt so small, mama was there to shelter me. That new year, we lit up fireworks, something we don’t really do. In a short time, while watching the lights disperse, I lost thought. Forgot everything else. I just watched with mama.

Mama held my hand the whole time.

It was only us. Only us.

[themovieblogonline]

Fans of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power have been waiting with bated breath for the explosive new season, and if you’re anything like me, it’s the dynamic between Galadriel and Sauron that’s kept you hooked. To dive deeper into this epic saga, I had the pleasure of speaking with The Rings of Power stars Charlie Vickers (Halbrand/Sauron) and Morfydd Clarke (Galadriel). Their take on the evolving relationship between these iconic characters will make you rethink everything you thought you knew about darkness and light in Middle-earth. Let’s just say, things are about to get real... and complicated. https://youtu.be/Mw5GhL1cFRY A Tug of War Between Power and Possibility When I asked about the relationship between Galadriel and Sauron from season one and how it evolves into season two, the actors’ perspectives were as thought-provoking as you'd expect. Charlie (playing Sauron) reflected on the relationship as two extremes, which, to be fair, sounds about right for Galadriel and Sauron, one trying to save Middle-earth, the other trying to dominate it. But the interesting bit? They aren’t as different as you might think. "Galadriel shows him possibilities he couldn’t even imagine," Charlie said, referring to how the two characters initially align, albeit in a twisted way. "She brings light and goodness, but Sauron sees in her a way to control others. It's all about power." If you thought they were ever on the same side, think again, season two will make that clear as the characters' motivations drift apart. Morfydd Clarke chimed in, explaining how Galadriel's journey has become more introspective, especially after the events of season one. "She has to fight her own cynicism," Morfydd said. "It’s about believing things can get better, even when you don't know if they will." But let’s not sugarcoat it, this isn’t some sunshine-and-rainbows character arc. Galadriel, just like Sauron, has her flaws, and Morfydd brings a perfect balance of strength and vulnerability to the character. A Power Struggle with a Side of Humility Now, if you thought playing the dark lord was all fun and games, think again. For Charlie, portraying Sauron in season two was about embracing a different side of the character. Gone is the sleek, brooding Halbrand from season one; Sauron has a new look, a new walk, and a new voice. But the internal struggle remains. "He’s still trying to save Middle-earth, just in his own way," Charlie explains, but with less altruism and more... control. For Morfydd, season two presented Galadriel in a different light. She's been humbled, much like the elves around her, which Morfydd found fascinating. “It's fun playing a character who's so powerful but is brought low," she said. "Galadriel now has to deal with the consequences of her actions and the reality of Middle-earth’s imperfections." Characters You Can’t Help But Relate To So, what do Charlie and Morfydd have in common with their characters? Well, turns out, there’s more overlap than you might think, at least in the organizational sense. Charlie admitted he likes things "ordered," just like Sauron, who despises wasteful friction. "It makes him sound conflict avoidant," he joked, "but he’s definitely not avoiding anything." That’s Sauron for you, everything’s gotta run like a well-oiled machine. Morfydd, on the other hand, shared that she struggles with cynicism in real life, much like Galadriel, but she holds onto the belief that things can always improve. "It's been wonderful to play a character that keeps me on my toes," she reflected. The Iconic Scene That Stole the Show You’d think a show like The Rings of Power would be all about dragons, epic battles, and breathtaking landscapes. And don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of that. But some of the most powerful moments come from the smaller, more intimate scenes. Morfydd brought up her favorite moment from season two, the conversation between Galadriel and Elrond, where Galadriel is struggling to keep hope alive in a world that seems to be falling apart. “You’ve got to keep striving for things to be better, even if you don’t think you’re going to win,” she said, summarizing the scene perfectly. It’s the kind of moment that gives you chills, even if you’re not an elf. Meanwhile, Charlie was all about his own character’s death scene. "It’s canon! I was shooting arrows, impaling people with spears, it was incredible," Charlie recalled, almost as if he was still reveling in the sheer joy of playing such a legendary villain. The Takeaway: A Dark Dance Between Galadriel and Sauron As we wrapped up the interview, it was clear that season two of The Rings of Power is about far more than just the epic clash between good and evil. It’s about the fine line that separates them, and how even the most noble of intentions can be twisted by despair and power. Charlie and Morfydd’s insights into their characters’ journeys were as enlightening as they were entertaining. Whether it’s the shifting relationship between Galadriel and Sauron or the ever-deepening struggle within each character, one thing’s for sure, season two is going to keep us all on the edge of our seats. Read the full article

[roguecrown]

Daemon   leaned   back   in   his   chair,   the   sharp   edges   of   his   grin   cutting   through   the   dim   light   of   the   hall.   The   firelight   danced   in   his   violet   eyes,   a   reflection   of   his   chaotic   nature,   and   perhaps   something   darker—something   dangerous.   Her   words   were   meant   to   provoke,   and   Sansa   had   succeeded.   The   wolf   had   bared   her   teeth,   and   he   found   himself   delighted   by   the   prospect.

“Merely   the   man   with   the   best   title?”   Daemon   echoed,   his   voice   a   silken   threat   wrapped   in   amusement.   He   leaned   forward,   resting   his   elbows   on   the   table,   his   chin   on   interlaced   fingers   as   his   gaze   locked   onto   hers.   “If   that   is   your   standard,   my   dear   wife,   then   you   have   severely   underestimated   what   you’ve   married   into.”

The   hum   of   the   hall   faded   as   his   focus   narrowed   entirely   on   her—poised,   bold,   and   entirely   unafraid   to   meet   him   head-on—was   a   far   cry   from   the   meek   southern   ladies   he   had   once   dismissed.   She   was   playing   her   game   well,   enough   to   cause   the   Rogue   Prince   to   look   elsewhere   besides   what   he   expected   in   a   bride.   He   thought   himself   entitled   to   a   Targaryen   wife   but   wolves   are   close   enough,   and   he   knew   better   than   to   dismiss   House   Stark.

He   rose   fluidly,   taking   her   offered   hand   with   a   grip   firm   enough   to   remind   her   of   who   he   was.   Daemon   Targaryen   did   not   flinch   from   wolves.   He   tamed   them—or   burned   them.   “You   speak   of   flinching,   my   lady,”   he   said,   pulling   her   close   as   he   guided   her   toward   the   dance   floor,   their   steps   weaving   through   the   curious   gazes   of   onlookers.   “But   flinching   is   not   what   I   aim   for.   I   aim   to   see   you   burn.   To   see   if   the   wolf   can   withstand   dragonfire.   I   will   show   you   fire   and   I   can   see   you   will   bare   teeth   and   bite   if   need   be.   Good.   One   needs   sharpness   if   they   are   to   survive   Court.”

The   music   swelled   as   they   moved   in   time   with   it,   and   Daemon’s   voice   dropped,   low   and   intimate,   meant   for   her   ears   alone.   “And   as   for   chaos?   That,   my   sweet   Stark,   is   where   I   thrive.   You   speak   of   my   death   so   easily,   but   you   will   find,   Sansa,   that   dragons   die   hard.   Pray   you   do   not   grow   fond   of   me   before   then.”   His   grip   tightened   just   slightly,   his   thumb   brushing   over   her   knuckles   as   his   smirk   turned   sharper,   more   pointed.   “And   if   you   think   being   a   widow   would   be   such   a   boon,   perhaps   I’ll   make   you   wait   for   it.   Perhaps   I’ll   make   you   endure   me.”

He   spun   her   once,   the   movement   fluid   and   commanding,   before   pulling   her   back,   so   close   her   breath   mingled   with   his.   “But   do   continue   to   try   and   unsettle   me,   wolf   of   the   North.   I   find   your   bite…   amusing.”   Daemon’s   lips   curved   into   a   smirk   that   was   all   fire   and   danger.

IT   IS   AN   INTRIGUING   PLACE   TO   FIND   HERSELF   NOW,        new   wife   to   the   rogue   prince,    done   at   the   behest   of   her   cousin,    the   urging   that   it   would   provide   some   level   of   stability.    he   hadn't   been   the   only   suitor,    nor   the   only   name   put   forward   in   a   bid   for   her   hand        –        cregan   did   not   have   a   full-blooded,    noble   born   sister,    and   so   sansa   had   been   deemed   more   than   satisfactory   to   fill   the   void.    most   women   would   not   so   quickly   seek   to   get   under   the   skin   of   their   husband,    would   not   find   themselves   at   their   wedding   feast,    insistent   on   proving   that   she   was   not   merely   a   pretty   northern   girl   to   be   told   what   to   do,    and   when   to   do   it. 

no,    sansa   had   deigned   to   prove   that   her   pretty   smile   hid   wolf's   teeth,    and   she   was   not   afraid   to   bite        –        even   if   her   husband   was   a   dragon. 

❝     NEITHER.   ❞      she   replies   with   a   small   shrug   of   her   shoulders,    unwilling   to   allow   his   closeness   to   shake   her   resolve,    although   there   is   a   fleeting   moment   where   her   breath   catches   in   her   throat,    and   sansa   has   little   choice   but   to   take   a   swig   of   her   wine   to   offer   herself   a   momentary   reprieve.     ❝     you   were   merely   the   man   with   the   best   title.   ❞      it   isn't   an   honest   answer   in   the   slightest,    hardly   anywhere   close   to   the   truth   of   the   matter,    wherein   sansa   had   been   most   curious   and   intrigued   by   him.    wherein   sansa   had   found   him   to   be   the   most   handsome   of   the   options   presented,    and   the   one   most   likely   to   not   make   her   loathe   him   out   of   boredom.

❝     I   FEAR   YOU   WILL   HAVE   TO   TRY   HARDER   IF   YOU   WANT   ME   TO   FLINCH.    i   have   been   well   scrutinized   for   years,    by   less   pretty   eyes.     ❞      a   curl   of   her   mouth,    before   one   soft,    small   hand,    is   offered   out   to   him   as   her   head   cants   towards   the   area   sectioned   out   for   dancing.        ❝     i'm   not   terrified   of   your   chaos,    either.    if   your   reckless   nature   sees   you   dead,    that   makes   our   marriage   null,    and   me   a   widow        –        hardly   a   terrible   fate.     ❞    

[spockandawe]

Man, the biggest disappointment of the clone wars, by far, is how BARELY the clones are even characters. 99 got as many lines as most of the other boys. I was expecting echo to have at least *one* episode between invited to be an arc and being sploded. There's still a few seasons left, but I'm only a few from umbara, which means it's time for hardcase and dogma to get, very possibly, less development than cutup and droidbait. I know the bad batch is going to disappoint me in new and exciting ways, but it's.... very unsettling. The random old jedi dude who helped ahsoka find her lightsaber has gotten show attention leaps and bounds beyond arguably every clone we've met. At a minimum, fives and rex will beat him out eventually, for sure, but they've been around for three whole seasons and are losing, badly, to a one-off rando unaffiliated with any main characters.

Like, I was so excited to meet monnk, and stoked to see it was a three-parter where he was featured, so SURELY-- no. fuck you. if you don't already recognize his armor in murky low light, you don't even get to know if he's talking. I watched one mortis episode and skipped the others, because it was AGONIZINGLY dull and i don't need three episodes to tell me anakin is super powerful and gets dangerously attached to his people. I can't believe we dumped all the dathomir momentum for THAT, and there weren't any clones or zabraks to make things fun

Not that I'm.... unhappy here. I'm just kind of stunned by just how much fandom creators are carrying this franchise on their backs. I would still say it's a good show, but i would be DRASTICALLY less compelled if not for fanfic to expand on all these characters who show up to get a name and die. People clown on cody for barely having a canonical personality, but I'm almost halfway through, and he's got more to him than almost every other clone character 🙃 The most developed clone so far is 99, and that's because he's a clear-cut Tragic Archetype 🙃🙃🙃

Just IMAGINE this show with a more modern form factor, something closer to SU maybe, where you've got a large-scale plot happening, but it's easy to zoom in on tighter episodes as necessary, but ALSO can integrate side characters in little ways to round them out before they're central to the plot. 'But SU has a smaller cast--' COOL then take your notes from transformers! I'd hesitate to say most animated versions do a good job of giving the WHOLE cast balanced attention, but it's still an improvement. Imagine I had some idea of who jesse was before umbara! Or kix! That would be wild! But I think they've had one or two throwaway lines each, and it's such a waste of potential.

[yoon-kooks]

better than sex | myg | 1

🍑Pairing: Yoongi x Producer!Reader

🍑Genre: fluff, smut, studio!au

🍑Summary: As Min Yoongi’s studio neighbor and self-proclaimed nemesis, you’ve always seen him as someone who knew how to maintain a clean, well-put-together image without any careless slip-ups. But after nearly walking in on him with a hand around his cock, you gain a new perspective that leads to steamy fantasies in your bedroom and much-needed inspiration in the studio for Bangtan’s next album. A week before track submissions are due, you give Yoongi a taste of the dirty demo, and now the selfish bastard wants to claim it for his own solo album. In exchange, he offers to help you produce another Bangtan track by the end of the week. Your only condition is for this track to be better than the sexual fantasies that inspired its predecessor.

🍑Word Count: 4.7k

🍊Parts: 1 ◆ 2

🍑Warnings: yoongi touches boobs, masturbation (m/f), a lot more smut to come in future chapters

🍑A/N: this fic started as a shower thought🚿

As a songwriter and producer, you’re expected to create something out of nothing. You’re expected to turn a blank canvas into the next big hit—something unique, something that would never exist without you. But the thing is, nothing is truly ever spawned out of thin air. Like superheroes who save the world, every song has its own origin story.

This, of course, includes the final track you’ve been working on for Bangtan’s next album. As with many of your best tracks, inspiration hit you while you were showering at one in the morning. Sometimes the inspiration is a reflection of how good or bad your day went. Sometimes it’s sparked by the fruity dessert you just devoured, or the heated breakup you witnessed on your walk home. But not this one.

This one was lust. More specifically, it was the lust you felt after entering Genius Lab with pure intentions and leaving with the vivid mental image of Min Yoongi jerking off in his studio. You hadn’t caught him outright with his hand around his cock, but you certainly walked in before he had time to hide the evidence. You’d always thought him to be a man who never slips up, never shows any sign of weakness. 

But boy did he slip up.

One week ago

“Hey Piano Guy, can I borrow you for a sec?” You knock on the studio door next to yours. “I have a melody in my head right now, and I think it’d sound kinda sick on the piano.”

After 30 seconds, there’s still no response. You could always work it out on the piano by yourself, but it’s a lot easier with an extra set of hands. And besides, you don’t hate the idea of spending time with the handsome boy.

“Yoongi, please. Before I forget how it goes. My memory is fading, please.” Just as you raise your fist to pound on his door some more, it swings open. Yoongi leans against the doorframe with a hand in his pocket. The first thing he does is pinch down on the hem of your sleeve, coaxing you to lower your fist out of his face. You don’t think too much about how his forehead and cheeks are looking extra dewy today. He smells like his usual cedarwood cologne, so you don’t suppose he just finished working out, either.

“Isn’t it too early for you to be picking fights with me?” His voice is low and calm, almost like he’d just woken up. On most days, you probably would fight him—he’s the enemy, after all. Not like an actual enemy, though. Just someone who goes along with your banter and gives you something to look forward to at work. Unfortunately, there’s no time for his teasing when there’s a billion-dollar melody on the line.

“I’m not picking a fight with you.” As you correct him, you do a mental calculation of the space between Yoongi’s body and the opposite side of the doorframe. A tight fit, but it might be just enough room to weasel your way in. “I’m enlisting your help for a potential song idea.” 

He must’ve caught a glimpse of that mischievous sparkle in your eye because he’s quick to put his arm up across the entrance. “Don’t even think about it.” 

You frown, but it doesn’t last long. With a playful grin and fluttery eyelashes, you say, “C’mon, this could be the hook that wins Bangtan a Grammy.”

You notice his fingers slowly slipping against the doorframe. The ends of his lips curve upward ever so slightly. This barricade is coming down whether he likes it or not.

Yoongi looks behind him, combs his fingers through his hair, and lets out a sigh. “You need me? Like right now?”

It’s hard to tell if he’s genuinely trying to shoo you away or if he just wants you to admit that you enjoy being around him. Usually, it’s the latter. But he does seem a bit off today.

“I mean, I could ask Namjoon—”

“Five minutes,” Yoongi cuts you off, dragging you with him into his lair and mumbling to himself about “the things he does for you” and how “you act like you can’t figure it out yourself on the guitar.” You take a seat at the piano bench and pull the boy down right beside you. He supposedly only has a handful of minutes to spare in his busy schedule, and yet here he is, taking his sweet time warming up with some scales.

Either he doesn’t trust Namjoon’s piano skills, or someone’s a little jealous.

For as many times as you’ve watched Yoongi at the piano, it never gets old. His long fingers stroke each key so gracefully, yet with purpose. It takes way more than a few years of dedication and a genuine love of the instrument to be at his level. It’s mesmerizing.

“So what’s this Grammy award-winning banger you speak of?” he asks, creating his own piano version of Yet To Come. Oh right, the banger. How did it go again?

You search every inch of your brain, but instead of recalling the melody you felt so confident in, all you find are Yoongi’s piano covers of Bangtan songs. Well this is awkward.

“It… kind of disappeared from my memory,” you say in a hushed voice, still staring down at the keys. In your defense, Yoongi was a huge distraction with those dexterous piano fingers.

He stops mid-measure and shakes his head at you. “Tsk, tsk, Y/N.” Rather than annoyed, he’s amused. “So were you just using that as an excuse to infiltrate Genius Lab or what?”

You roll your eyes. Yoongi always acts like his studio is some sort of sacred chamber only accessible to those he deems worthy. Maybe you should set up your own high-tech security system for your studio so that you don’t get 20 weekly visits from him like an alley cat coming back for more table scraps.

“Bold assumption, but I only came here with the purest of intentions.” With a hmph, you slide your ass off the bench. Instead of heading for the door, you wander over to the side of his studio with all of the fancy producer equipment. You make yourself comfortable and spin around in his big cushy chair. It’s still radiating leftover heat from Yoongi’s own ass cheeks. “Were you in the middle of something just before I got here?”

The boy strides over, waiting for you to have your back to his desk. He steadies the chair with a strong hand so that you’re facing him and can’t spin around anymore. “That’s confidential information.”

“This chair is still warm, so you were obviously sitting here working on something. You might as well fess up.” You hug your knees to your chest and peer up at him with wonder. “Is it your solo album?”

He doesn’t answer you right away. It’s a yes-or-no question. There shouldn’t be anything to think about. Eventually, though, he shakes his head.

You try not to frown so he doesn’t see your disappointment. Ever since D-2, you’ve been patiently waiting for a solo album from him. Because you’d love to snag a spot on it as one of the producers he collaborates with. But Yoongi doesn’t need to know that right now.

“Can you at least give me a hint, then?” You hop out of the chair, scurry around the boy, and examine his desk. Not much is on it aside from his computer, a few MIDI controllers, and a black bottle of cologne. You wiggle the mouse around to wake the computer up, but the screen remains dark. “Seriously? You turned your computer off so I wouldn’t be able to snoop? Is that why it took you a decade to answer the door?”

“We all know how nosy you are. Like a curious kitten.” His voice comes from right behind you. With the clicks of several buttons, the computer screen flashes on, and he types his password in faster than you can decode it. He takes control of the mouse, but you don’t move out of the way. You can feel just how close his body is to yours, and the cedarwood is starting to drown your mind in mildly dangerous thoughts.

As Yoongi looks through his files for a track that’s “safe enough to show you,” your eyes lock onto the fancy black bottle of that intoxicating cologne. It looks expensive, sleek, and something you’d want to get your paws on. 

You scan the bottle for a brand, a name for the scent—anything that will help you get ahold of what’s on Yoongi’s body. But all you find on the front side of the bottle is a simple product description: Personal Moisturizer.

That’s definitely not cologne. 

You quickly turn back to the computer screen. An unfinished hip-hop track you’ve never heard before is playing in the background. You don’t even know when Yoongi pressed play. All you know is that you can’t exactly focus on music right now.

You’ve been in Yoongi’s studio plenty of times, and you’ve never seen this bottle sitting so casually on his desk like that. Probably because it’s normally stored away where curious kittens would never check. If it’s still lying around out in the open, then… 

Oh god. You’re so fucking oblivious.

No wonder he was trying to shoo you away. No wonder he looked like he’d just gone through an intense workout. No wonder his chair was still warm but his computer wasn’t on. He wasn’t in the middle of work when you knocked on the door. Min Yoongi was in the middle of jerking off, and you just entered his studio without a single clue.

Oh no. You can’t unsee it. It’s too vivid—the image of him panting, slumped in the same chair you were spinning around in like an idiot, hand around his hard wet cock. The long fingers that danced across the piano keys so elegantly were the same violent set of fingers that stroked him into a fervorous state where every ounce of his stoic demeanor had come undone. If his computer wasn’t on with porn plastered across the screen, you wonder who or what he was getting off to. 

A tiny, tiny part of you hopes it was you on his mind.

The funny thing is, you’ve never once even thought about him like that. Sure, the two of you have some flirty banter going on, but to you, he’s always been the kind of guy who’s more focused on his music than his sex life. And to be honest, it never actually occurred to you that Yoongi did in fact have a sex life. With that small bit of information, you feel like you’ve gained a whole new perspective. This is why they say curiosity killed the cat. It completely shattered the perfect, well-put-together image you had had of him all this time.

You’ll never see Min Yoongi the same way ever again.

When you return home that night, you aren’t thinking about the company meeting you have tomorrow morning, or what you should pack for lunch, or the award-winning melody that vanished into the abyss along with the rest of your rational thoughts.

You plop your body onto your bed and let yourself think of Yoongi. It’s probably a big mistake, but you can’t help it. 

He’s incredibly handsome, you’ve always thought so. And you admire the work he puts into each and every one of his tracks. Likewise, you know he respects you the same. After all, he lets you into his sacred studio more than anyone else. He couldn’t say no to you, even with a whole ass bottle of lube still out in the open.

The image of him with his fingers gripping tightly around his swollen cock haunts your mind once more. His head is thrown back, sweat running down his neck, and he’s out of breath. You want to know how he sounds when he’s overwhelmed with pleasure, when he’s lost all control. His voice is already so raspy, so low, and so goddamn hot. You want him to call you kitten again, but maybe without the “curious” part attached to it. Anything to hear his bedroom voice. A single moan from him might be enough to set you off. 

You unbutton your shorts and slip your fingers beneath the lace of your underwear. To your surprise, you’re already soaked in these erotic fantasies you never thought you’d be having about your studio neighbor. You’ve known the guy for two years, and it’s only now that you’re lusting after him? How did you have that much self-control for so long?

A gasp escapes your throat as you rub around your center. You squirm to your own touch as you apply more pressure and speed. Harder, faster. You love it, but it’s familiar and predictable, and it’s been a while since you’ve been pleasured by someone else’s hands. Your body aches for those long veiny fingers to play with you like a piano.

As the pleasure builds, you wonder how far Yoongi had gotten before you rudely interrupted him. It’d feel pretty shitty to be so close yet denied of it all because you decided to knock on his door right at that moment. If you had known what was truly going on behind that door, would you have still chosen music over lust? Or would you have thrown that Grammy away to learn what Min Yoongi tastes like when he’s overtaken by his deepest desires? 

In the end, it doesn’t really matter because you came out of his studio with neither.

After a rather underwhelming orgasm, you roll off your bed and drag your feet into the bathroom for a hot shower. 

You know you should stop while you’re still ahead. Fantasies need to remain fantasies and nothing more. Sex between you and Yoongi isn’t going to happen. It’s not worth sacrificing the music you need to be making with him instead of love. You hate that you were considering it for even a second.

But your irrational desires need an outlet.

As hot water trickles down your body, the steam clouds your thoughts. And in the haze, you long for something new and different. Now that you know what you know, you wish Yoongi would show you that other side of himself, the side he keeps hidden behind those studio doors. 

You want it so bad.

And that’s when it hits you.

It’s been a week since you visited Yoongi in his studio on that fateful morning. You’ve been hard at work, piecing together the final track for Bangtan’s album. The demo is nearly complete, and you’re actually super satisfied with how it’s turning out. The vibe is sensual, full of temptation, and far dirtier than any other track with your name on it. 

It only makes sense that the file name for this track is “sex.wav,” which will of course be changed before anyone else sees it. You’ve always had a bad habit of naming your track files based on the first thing that comes to mind, and it really shows where your head has been at this week.

Even Jimin, who helped you record the demo, asked if there was some sort of recent breakthrough in your sex life. When you told him no, he winked and said, “Yoongi is single, you know.” Sometimes you regret confiding in Jimin about your desire to make it onto Yoongi’s solo album because now he’s under the impression that you have some sort of crush on the rapper.

For the record, you don’t have feelings for Yoongi. It’d just be nice to fuck him once, get it out of your system, and the two of you will probably be back to the usual harmless banter that keeps you going every day.

You have to admit, though, your sexual urges came through when you needed them most. After losing the precious (and very wholesome) brain cells containing that award-winning melody, you were in desperate need of a new idea to go off of for that final track. Thanks to the hot and bothered part of your brain, you became super inspired and productive. 

For once in your music career, you’re actually a whole week ahead of schedule instead of just barely meeting deadlines at midnight. With the sex.wav demo near completion, you’ll have this week to relax and take time for yourself.

Thank you, Min Yoongi.

“Y/N, can I come in?” Speaking of the devil, Yoongi pops his head in the doorway. It’s his third visit to your studio this week, and it’s only Monday.

“Come, come,” you say, gesturing for him to hurry on in. You’re confident he’ll vibe with the track, and you’re excited to hear what he has to say about it.

“Jimin told me you guys finished recording the demo,” he says over your shoulder. He places a hand on top of your chair and leans his weight against it like he owns the place.

“We did.” You sit up tall in your chair with a healthy glow and hand the boy some headphones. “I might still go back and tweak a few things, but it’s pretty much done.”

You stare up at him shamelessly as he focuses all of his attention on your demo. Yoongi is the type of guy who doesn’t react or say much on his first listen. He’ll always listen with an open mind and give you his honest opinion once he’s had time to take it all in. That’s why he’s always one of the first people you show your work to.

When the demo ends, he doesn’t hit replay. Instead, he hangs the headphones around his neck and stares at your computer screen, deep in thought. You start to think he hated it so much that he can’t even give it a second listen and he’s trying to find the right words to tell you.

“Why did you name the file sex.wav?” Ah shit, he wasn’t supposed to see that. No one was.

“It’s sexy, isn’t it?” you say softly, starting to shrink in your chair. He still hasn’t said whether he likes it or not.

“Yeah,” he agrees. He drums his fingertips against your desk. You wonder if those fingers have touched any cock lately. “It’s different from your usual stuff.”

You just blink at him, unsure of how to react. Good different or bad different?

“Good different,” he clarifies, as if he’s read your mind. He’s still not giving you much to go off of, though. And you’re starting to get impatient.

Yoongi looks at you, opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it. You’ve never seen the boy so speechless.

“What?” you ask. If he doesn’t spit it out right now, you’re going to lose it.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Please.” It’s hard to read his straight face, but something’s definitely on his mind. You need to know what’s bothering him.

“Who inspired it?” he asks. Not what. Who. This must be his not-so-subtle way of asking who you’ve been sleeping with. It’s none of his business, really. And he knows it. That’s why he was so hesitant to ask in the first place.

“Are you sure you want to hear about all the guys I’ve had sex with?” You casually raise an eyebrow at him and watch closely for a reaction. Maybe it’ll make him jealous.

“It’s about all the sex you’ve ever had?” He looks like he’s not fully convinced. No, it’s actually about the sex you haven’t had. The good kind. The wild kind. The kind that ends with you all tangled in the sheets with Min Yoongi. But you can’t tell him that.

“I’m just fucking with you. I wish I could say I’ve had good enough sex to inspire this track.” You take a jab at yourself, but you really hope you aren’t coming across as lonely or needy for a man. 

Yoongi’s face relaxes a little more, still drumming those fingers against your desk. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

He doesn’t elaborate on that, nor do you ask him to.

“Can I have it?” he asks out of nowhere. Have what? Sex with you? “On my solo album?”

Oh.

“You want this track on your album?” Is the boy really tempting you with something you’ve waited so long for? Of course you want to scream yes, but… “You’d really steal from Bangtan to claim it as your own?”

“Well, when you put it that way, I sound like a selfish asshole,” he pouts. Since when did Min Yoongi ever pout? You’ve never seen this side of him either. It’s fascinating.

You bite your lip. “Yoongi, I’d be down, but the deadline is approaching and I’m going to be one track short if I give you this one.” 

“When’s the deadline?”

“Next Monday.”

The boy pulls out his phone and flicks his thumb across the screen. If you had to guess, he’s checking his schedule.

“I’ll help you produce another one for Bangtan,” he says so casually and confidently.

“Are you sure you’ll have time for that?” You don’t know Yoongi’s full schedule off the top of your head, but you do recall Jimin mentioning this week would be hectic for the group.

“I’ll make time.” All he does is shrug. “I should be free after 10 on most nights. Sunday, I can be in the studio by 6AM—”

“Yoongi.” You stop him before he can say anything else outrageous. Not that you’re being any more rational. You’re about to kiss your much-deserved week of freedom goodbye all for this boy with a pouty lip. “I’ll see what I can do, and you can pitch in. But please don’t overwork yourself for this.” You point at the screen, at the track he wants so badly.

He nods. “Thanks, Y/N.”

You want to ask Yoongi what he’ll give you in return for doing him this favor, but you aren’t really interested in anything from him aside from his company. And maybe sex. 

Instead, you ask, “May I ask why you want this track so badly?”

“Because I like it.” He pulls the headphones off his neck and hangs them around yours. There’s no way he fell in love with the track after listening to it only once. That’s unheard of for him. There must be another reason. “Oh, and I also heard you wanted a spot on my solo album.”

You’re going to kill Park Jimin.

“Right,” you say, spinning your chair around so that Yoongi can’t see the nasty texts you’re sending to his friend.

Y/N💅 [8:23PM] “fuck you park jimin”

Y/N💅 [8:23PM] “i thought we agreed not to tell my nemesis that id like to be on his solo album”

Jimin🍡 [8:24PM] “Yoongi’s your nemesis?”

Jimin🍡 [8:24PM] “I thought you had a raging boner for him🍆”

Y/N💅 [8:24PM] “i hate you btw”

“You have a raging boner for me?” You hear a mix of shock, amusement, and arrogance over your shoulder. But mostly arrogance. You lock your phone screen even though it’s already too late. You’ve been caught. Evidently, you aren’t the only nosy one here.

You swing your head around, practically nose to nose with your nemesis. He can probably feel the heat radiating from your cheeks. But you don’t back off. Instead, you glare. “Neither you nor Jimin know what you’re talking about.”

“I guess only you know then, Y/N.” Yoongi doesn’t back away either. He eyes your lips the way you eye a strawberry popsicle on the hottest day of the year. You make a conscious effort to not let your eyes do the same. You don’t need to be reminded of how perfectly plush his lips must feel against everything they touch.

But if he wants to play this game with you, you’ll play along. And you won’t lose.

You lean in closer and graze your cheek against his. In a hushed voice, you say, “Do you want to know who really inspired that track?”

He nods against your skin. Your lips tickle his ear.

“I was visiting a friend last week, and I left his place with a new perspective. I thought, maybe this guy wasn’t just the grumpy asshole workaholic I knew him to be. Maybe he’d been hiding this dirty, sexed-up side of himself the whole time.” You pause for dramatic effect. “Do you want to know why I thought this?”

He nods again.

“You forgot to hide your personal moisturizer before I walked into your studio.” You finally lean back to see the look on his face. His pupils are huge, his lips are parted, but he doesn’t necessarily look embarrassed for someone who was practically caught with his hands in his pants.

In fact, the more time he spends thinking about it, the more he realizes what your story says about you. “So what you’re saying is that you do in fact have a raging boner for me and I was your inspiration for that sex track? I’m honored.”

You hate that he’s such a good listener who knows how to dissect every word you say.

“Would y’all quit saying I have a raging boner?” You roll your eyes, but it does feel oddly satisfying when Yoongi and Jimin treat you like one of the guys.

“What should I call it then?” Yoongi chuckles. He doesn’t do it often, but you like it when he laughs. “Horny eyes? Unfulfilled sexual desires? A wet p—”

You get up and give him a light shove against the desk. He’s still got a smirk on his face as you pin him there. “Call it a severe distaste for your bullshit,” you say sweetly with a handful of his shirt in your fist. 

A strong hand cups your chin. He leans in close enough for you to smell the minty lip balm you always see him applying. You want to taste it. “Admit it,” he says, “You like my bullshit.”

You feel each of his words against your lips. By the time he reached “bullshit,” you’d already pressed your lips into his. He doesn’t fight it. You taste the mint, then his tongue.

His hands start to wander along your curves. He finds the bare skin between your crop top and high-waisted shorts and works his way up your ribs. You hope he can’t feel the goosebumps when his thumbs sneak into your bra and flirt with the sides of your breasts. You just want him to keep exploring and familiarizing himself with your body. 

In the next moment, he has you pinned in with your ass on top of the desk. In front of you is not the grumpy idol boy you’ve maintained a clean, professional relationship with for the past two years. The Yoongi standing here between your thighs is an irresistible temptation. He’s your fantasy turned reality. And maybe he wants you as much as you want him. 

But before you can loop your limbs around him and lasso him in for more, he steps back and points his thumb at the door. “I have to get back to my studio.”

No, he doesn’t. He’s just playing hard to get. And you hate him for it.

“To work or to jerk off?” you call out as he walks further and further away from you.

“Work, of course,” he sings. You don’t believe him. He’s a liar and a tease. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, Y/N. To work on the new track.”

You almost forgot about that replacement track. After all, Yoongi’s hands and lips were pretty big distractions that you once again fell victim to. But regardless of the hold he thinks he has on you now, you still want to establish strict criteria for the song you’ll be working on with him. Only one thing comes to your flustered mind.

“Wait, Yoongi.” You wait for him to turn back around in the doorway. There’s still a hint of a smile lingering on his face. He probably thinks you’re calling him back for some more studio mischief. Too bad he’s wrong. “I have one condition for that new track.”

“Go on.”

“It has to be better than the sex track I’m giving you for your solo album.” You kick your legs back and forth—the same legs that could’ve been squeezing Yoongi’s waist in a heated makeout session right about now. “Way better.”

You won’t accept anything less from the man.

“So it has to be better than your cute little erotic fantasies of me?” Yoongi puts a hand up. Then he’s gone. “Shouldn’t be an issue.”

[magicsunwheel]

Why You're F#cking Amazing

Pick-a-Card

How to play: pick one of the photos below using your intuition. You can close your eyes and meditate for a bit or just take a few grounding breaths while thinking of the topic. Feeling drawn to more than one is fine! You might have messages in more than one pile

Pile 1 (x) Pile 2 (x) Pile 3 (x)

My pile numbers always go from left to right, then down to the text row (if applicable)

Pile 1

Cards: The High Priestess, Five of Swords, Seven of Pentacles, The Moon Rx, Five of Rods, Ace of Pentacles

You are so intuitive! You're either very in touch with your divine feminine or are working your way there right now. Something about you is severe in the most beautiful way. You can take things seriously when they need to and the way you command a room with just your presence is unmatched. Maybe you're also a tarot reader or involved in spirituality/divination in some way. Maybe you really like Pick-a-Cards.

Something beautiful about you is that you never give up on a fight, especially when you know the end is worth it. Your ambition is strong and you will fight for what you love and what you want. You are not weak-willed by any means.

This also makes you so unique! You work so hard and put so much labor into your love even if you know it will take a long time to come to fruition. The times that you feel discouraged by a lack of results are few and far between. If for some reason you do find yourself wistfully hoping for faster results or an easier path, you can easily remind yourself of why you started in the first place.

You might have moments where you think of yourself as sneaky or like you're hiding a part of yourself from others, like your true self would be too much for them. I'm here to tell you that your intensity is exactly what make you such a beautiful person! You thrive in competition and in adversity. It gives you a chance to show off your quick thinking and survival skills. Others look at you with envy of how you can make an opportunity out of seemingly nothing!

If you need help improving your self-love, Spirit says to stop comparing yourself to others! You are amazing and beautiful and unique all on your own! Throwing yourself into the fray to compete against others who are nothing like you will only fim your inner shine. And you really do shine! When I asked for a card about why you are beautiful, nearly half the damn deck flew out!

Sprit loves you and I love you so please take care of yourself and keep making those amazing opportunities to improve your physical surroundings. (I feel like you have a very clean room/home)

Pile 2

Cards: Nine of Rods, the World, King of Cups, Three of Rods, Ace of Rods, Two of Cups

Ahh the Loona pile!

Similar to Pile 1, but much more fiery! You are resilient! Taking time to collect yourself before pushing forward with a renewed sense of energy and purpose is such an amazing and useful trait. You maybe aren't as commanding of a presence but you have such an inner strength that no one can deny.

You got the World for the reason why you're beautiful! Maybe it's related to physically being very beautiful and possibly exotic-looking. You might have very specific features associated with a certain area of the world that stand out where you live. You also have such a wonderful understanding of the world and where it's currently at. Things can seem negative or like hope is lost but you still seek out the beauty and share it with others. You see opportunity where others do not and feel a sense of peace and connectedness with all of humanity. Wow!

Your uniqueness shines in your emotionality and compassion. You might be a natural born leader who makes sure to understand all under your rule. You lead with kindness and, most importantly, by example. You don't have any desire to use you position for ill-gotten gains. Power to you does not corrupt, it solely provides a tool for you to do good in the world and really make a difference in the lives of others, whether it's on a large or small scale. You are probably the kind of person who makes sure to give money to those who need it when you pass a begging mother and her children, or buying a homeless man a bottle of water on a hot day.

Your card for why you think you are not perfect actually came out quite positive. Maybe you don't have a very low self esteem, but I can see a few possible scenarios here. You might be constantly planning in your head, waiting and watching for the next move to take but never actually getting to the action part. Maybe you're planning for your future and have so much planned out that you're excited for, but haven't made the practical plans on how to actually get there. This could make you feel bad about yourself especially on days where you're reminded of others moving ahead in their lives while you're still planning. Visualisation is very important in manifesting your desired reality! If you are moving slower than others around you, remember that it is okay to not be where "everyone else" is. Life is not a race or a competition. Taking your time to get to where you need to be when you need to be there reminds me of the story of the tortoise and the hare. Quick does not necessarily mean better.

You can improve your self-love by creating! Using your creativity and passion to make something! Create art, whether it's physical/digital art, music, writing, inventing, anything that uses those creative muscles of yours. It doesn't have to be good! Just creating something will help burn up that excess energy you have that's trying to rush you somewhere. Self-expression this way can be a wonderful hobby even if you don't consider yourself as a creative person.

Your kindness really shines through. You care so deeply about the people around you and your spiritual team cares just as deeply about you. You are loved and watched over and protected by Spirit. Others around you also see your sparkle and appreciate and admire you, even if they don't show it. Know you are beautiful and amazing and bringing a light into this world that needs to be here.

Pile 3

Cards: Six of Rods, the Hierophant, Four of Rods, Six of Cups, Ten of Swords, the Hermit Rx

Damn, who are y'all!? You've got some mighty power and pull in this world. Maybe you're a public figure or have some kind of platform, like a social media with many followers. You could also be well-recognized within your field of study/work. Whoever you are, people see you and look up to you. They celebrate you and how amazing you are! Spirit loves this about you and you really shine in the spotlight. Your achievements deserve all this pomp and celebration!

You are naturally authoritative. People listen when you speak and take your words to heart. You might also be a religious person or someone who enjoys organization and the comfort of hierarchy. People will willingly follow you wherever you lead them because they trust you with all their hearts. "A merciful ruler" (lol) You hold your position with grace and dignity befitting a king or queen.

You are unique in ways the public recognizes, but we knew that already! You might be someone who likes to entertain and you throw the greatest parties and get-togethers. Maybe you've planned a wedding and everyone had such an amazing time! You know how to relax and have fun when the time for celebrating arrives. You can out down your guard and bit and let loose. Not many people with such responsibility can let go of the reigns like that, but you don't seem to hold on to control too tightly.

Your past might be a source of anxiety for you. Maybe you're worried that what you've done when you were younger will catch up to you and ruin what you've got going on now, but it's important to remember that the past is the past. It cannot be undone or wished away. Taking time to accept what happened and recognizing that you've moved on to bigger and better things is important here. Whatever happened, take time to heal your childhood wounds and forgive past actions.

Ending this cycle will bring much more self-love to your life. Old habits and patterns being out to rest is the way forward. It might be a painful ending and something you don't necessarily look forward to, but it is something that needs to happen to clear out old energy and welcome in everything new. You can't expect to move on if you're still repeating old actions or ways of thinking. It's time to set these things to rest and evolve. Leave behind what no longer serves you.

Your understanding of yourself knows no bounds. You've taken the time to inquisit yourself and learn all of the shadows that lie there. Self-reflection might be a favored pastime for you. Through this knowledge of yourself you are able to see truths that many struggle to see all their lives. Your light can cut through the fog if bullshit and see the true source of something. Use this knowledge of yourself to become the best version of yourself that you can be! I know you're already on your way there and it's amazing to see! Spirit is so proud of you and loves you so much!

[bleezebrew-writes]

The wedding ceremony was beautiful—as well it should be when the bishop's body and bookkeeping both revealed his evil. Isabeau's fortunes were returned to her, and no one dared tell Navarre that he ought to join the latest crusade. At the first hint of it, he would arch a brow and say, "I have had my fill of adventure." Those who dared to challenge him on that regretted it soon. Their life was peaceful, and it was good. Neither of them would give that up willingly.

The first time Navarre had to hold her back from stabbing a man, she was mortified. The feeling of threat had driven her, instincts honed under moonlight leading her immediately to violent action at the implications in his words. The man remained a threat—she wouldn't have regretted succeeding in her attempt—but the way people watched her, watched them...she was humiliated.

The fifth time it happened, she was furious.

The offensive man blustered, shouting "control your woman!" to her husband as he fled.

"It's like they think I'll just sit there and simper at them even when they threaten such awful things—!"

Navarre smiled at her gently, rubbing her shoulder. He didn't try to take her dagger from her; he knew better even if no one else did. "Isabeau," he said, an amused tilt to his expression. "You've the heart of a hawk. They're expecting a simple dove. Can you blame them for being afraid of you?"

She growled low, pressing her face into his chest. He enfolded her in his arms, running his fingers through her still-short hair. "I know I've made a fool of us both," she muttered.

"Oh, whatever shall we do?" her husband said dryly.

"Does it bother you?" she asked, gripping his cloak.

He smiled with a little sorrow, without showing teeth. He never did anymore, not around strangers. Not unless he needed to. "Like calls to like."

She met his gaze and had to smile back at him, at the intensity in his eyes. He had the heart of a wolf, after all, no matter how practiced he might be at playing the role of a dog.

~

They moved away from Aquila, away from the politics of the new bishop, closer to the abandoned mountain abbey where Imperious yet lived. From there, the funds they had received as recompense from the church were put to good use paying for the labour to construct a home for them, with a connected stable for Goliath, on an unclaimed plot of land.

It felt right to act as hunters once more. Navarre took down bucks and birds with his crossbow bolts while she set snares and caught rabbits. Their furs and leathers were far more practical than the finery they had left behind, and the farmers in the valley were eager to trade with them. Isabeau kept her hair cut short; she didn't want it to get caught in her lines.

"Does it bother you?" she asked, staring into a bucket as she studied her reflection. A woods woman now, far from her refined court of long ago—she'd never truly returned to it after the curse.

Navarre paused in chopping wood to look at her. "It looks fierce," he said after a moment, nothing but approval in his voice.

She smiled at him, and he smiled back with white teeth. She felt a curl of fire in her stomach at the expression. "You're so handsome when you smile," she told him, setting down the bucket.

He set down his axe, smiling wider. "Oh, really?"

She tipped her head, eyes sharp.

"You're beauty incarnate right before you strike," he told her, hungry.

They did make it to the bed...eventually.

~

Philippe found them three years after the curse was broken, in the middle of summer. Isabeau came back to their cottage home with a basket full of wild berries, only to hear the sound of him and Navarre talking long before they came into view.

"—and when I was coming back through Naples, I realized that I'd climbed over an entire mountain twice just to see a lot of water and I regretted the entire trip," he chattered.

"None of that tells me why you're here, Philippe Gaston. Couldn't you have bothered the priest instead?"

"Oh, I did already," he said glibly. "He held out quite admirably, Captain. A whole week before he gave you up."

She could see her husband then, if not Philippe. She saw the way his lips twitched upwards, but he managed to catch himself and give Philippe a stern look.

"As I was saying," Philippe said breezily.

Navarre huffed, rolling his eyes, and continued to brush Goliath.

Isabeau walked with silent steps, going around their cottage. She hoped to catch Philippe off-guard, difficult though that may be.

"As I was saying, I toured all the great Roman cities. Venice—you know about the canals, I'm sure. It's a paradise. Good wine, good women, but not quite right for—"

"Philippe," she said from behind the thief, setting her basket down.

He spun on one heel, eyes wide. "Isabeau!"

He'd grown into himself. Not taller so much as more lithe, his movements somehow even more fluid, and his jaw perhaps a little sharper. But his smile was just as bright, just as sweet. He hugged as well as she remembered.

"You've grown up," she said, drawing back to smile at him.

He glanced down, rubbing the back of his neck with a goofy smile. Still flustered by her, evidently. "W-well," he stammered. "I've gotten older at least."

"Stay with us for supper, won't you?"

"If you don't mind—"

"We don't," Navarre said, smiling at them both.

He rallied and grinned back. "How could I possibly refuse?"

~

Philippe did not leave after supper, or the next day. He had story upon story to share with them from his travels; it seemed every single moment he'd spent abroad had been an adventure all its own.

"Did I tell you about the relics in Rome?" he asked, perched on the roof. He'd insisted on helping her repair it.

"No, I don't think you did," she said, knowing as she did that she was encouraging a story. Navarre sighed, giving her a look from where he was fletching new bolts. She raised an eyebrow in response.

"I saw the nails that went through Christ's palms.”

She blinked up at him. "What? Shouldn't those be protected?"

He dropped down from the roof, brushing off his hands. "You would think so, wouldn't you? No, they're on display for every wandering pilgrim to see."

"What's the catch?" Navarre asked.

Philippe glanced at him and bit his lip on a smile. "Oh, no catch."

He set aside the shaft he was fletching. "Really."

Philippe rubbed his chin. "Wait, did I say any pilgrim? I meant any pilgrim who could afford the offering. It was funny, too, how many nails there were through all of Rome. I would have expected three altogether—certainly no more than a dozen."

"A dozen?" she repeated, incredulous.

Navarre's brow furrowed. "How many were there?"

"I saw thirty-two. There may have been more, though." Philippe held up a finger. "I have a theological opinion about them. I think it's not dissimilar from the sacrament."

"How is this like the sacrament?" Isabeau asked, instantly regretting the question.

"I think the nails have a sort of transitive property. God knows that not everyone can see the real ones, so he gives them a chance to see different ones. Only, since you obviously wouldn't find false relics in the Holy City itself, God made each nail equally real."

"Is this how you broke Imperious?" Navarre asked.

Philippe laughed.

~

"Why are you still here?" Navarre asked their guest one night, while Isabeau pretended to sleep.

"Do you want me to leave, Captain?" Philippe teased, though there was an edge of real concern in his voice.

"I didn't say that."

The embers crackled faintly.

Philippe sighed, characteristically dramatic. "Do you know how hard it was to see all that wealth and not steal anything?"

"I did give you a reward. Was it not enough—?"

"I—you did. It wasn't necessary, but thank you all the same. That's not the point."

"Then what is?"

His chair scraped across the floor. "I really have interfered enough. I don't know why you haven't kicked me out yet—"

"Philippe."

"You have a beautiful life here with Isabeau. I wish I could be as happy, but I can't. I should stop—"

Isabeau sat up. "Philippe, please stay," she said quietly.

He jumped, then paled. "M-my Lady, I'm so sorry I woke you—"

"She wasn't asleep," Navarre interrupted. At her glance, he shrugged. "You never fall asleep this soon after sunset."

She sighed. He wasn't wrong. "Philippe," she repeated, stepping forward to catch hold of his hands. "You're a dear friend to us. We enjoy your company; we'd never turn you away. Not after everything you've done for us."

"You don't owe me anything."

"That's not the only reason we've welcomed you," Navarre added, getting to his feet. He smiled, setting a hand on his shoulder. "I've missed your company, little thief."

"But I promised Imperious," he said. "I'm supposed to lead a normal, boring life, get a wife, work a field, pay taxes—"

"Is that what you want to do?" she asked.

"No!"

"Philippe, why do you think we left Aquila?" Navarre asked him.

The thief paused, blinking at him. "Uh...I don't...."

Navarre gave an amused huff and kissed his forehead. "Go to sleep, you little fool. You'll feel better in the morning."

Philippe sputtered. "Captain, the least you could do is give me a little respect!"

Her husband's look was fond. "I respect you more than you could know, Philippe Gaston."

"Then kiss me like you mean it!"

The instant he realized what he had said, Philippe turned bright red. He would have covered his face, but Isabeau kept hold of his hands; after a moment he straightened and raised his chin, cheeks still aflame.

She glanced at Navarre sidelong, not hiding her smile. He grinned back at her, then cradled Philippe's face in his hands and leaned down to do as he'd asked, treating him oh so gently. Isabeau let Philippe's hands slip loose as he reached up, wrapping his arms around her husband. She knew the feeling well.

"Like that?" Navarre asked a few moments later.

Philippe made an agreeable sound, holding himself up against Navarre.

"My turn," Isabeau said, pinning Philippe between them and swooping in.

The next morning, Philippe stretched like a cat and sighed contentedly, snuggled between the two of them. "I don't what I was thinking," he said, drowsy. "I'm never leav—mmh?"

"Too early to talk," Isabeau ordered between kisses. Navarre laughed at them both.

~

Philippe sighed, stretched out on the hay they’d traded for furs. “I have been so incredibly bored."

Isabeau looked up from the dressage training she was putting Goliath through. "Even while touring Italy?"

"Especially then."

Isabeau watched him. After a moment, Philippe turned his head to watch her back.

Navarre knew Philippe better than she did. She was sure he would know how to tease out what the thief was trying to say. But Navarre was off fishing at the lake. "Well," she said, choosing her words with care. "If you were to get bored, we wouldn't force you to stay, though we would miss you."

He held up a hand. "Aha. If. If."

"Then you're not bored."

"My Lady, I haven't been bored since Imperious told me where to find you."

Goliath nickered, and she patted his neck absentmindedly. "Philippe, you're not doing anything."

"I know," he said, sounding baffled. "It makes no sense!"

Isabeau smiled. "If that changes, let me know," she said. "I'm sure Navarre and I can fix that for you."

He turned bright red. "Isabeau, that's...that sounds wonderful," he admitted.

Isabeau laughed at him.

~

They stocked up for winter, trading for what they couldn't get themselves in town. Their cottage was in good shape, Navarre had split plenty of wood, and her trap lines were ready. Philippe helped where he could, and learned quickly. It looked to be a good year for them all.

Soon enough, a winter storm made the way into town impassable. This would be the true test of their ability to live together, Isabeau was sure. She and Navarre had weathered last winter with ill-grace and coldness between them that had taken awhile to thaw. They'd survived it, but it felt too much like the days of the curse—one of them always away from the other.

She prayed that it would not happen again.

Things started out alright, as they had last time. Though she checked her lines often, it was a reprieve for her. Isabeau felt confined by their cottage instead of enjoying it. With how often Navarre took to hunting every day, she knew he felt the same. Their home was warm, comfortable, and increasingly tense. Isabeau tugged at her short hair. During their time of wandering, cursed, she'd responded to the crushing, trapped feeling by cutting her hair. She hadn't had that option since, and was scared of what she might do instead.

It took her weeks before she realized what Philippe was doing.

Things hadn't necessarily been calm, but they had been more stable than she'd expected. She had gone out to check her traps and come back with nothing but chilled appendages to show for it, cold and listless and dreading returning to their small cottage. Once inside, her feelings heavy, she'd tried to warm up. Then the fire had been guttering in its hearth and the vent blocked with snow. She could feel the rage like a living thing inside her. She wanted to claw at the walls, she wanted to get out go anywhere else—

"My Lady? What's wrong?" Philippe asked from the bed, half asleep.

"Why haven't you been tending the fire?" she snapped, turning to glare at him. "It's not as if you're doing anything worthwhile with your time."

Philippe winced, then nodded slowly. "You're right. I've been clearing it every hour or so, what with the way the wind's shifted, but I could have kept a closer eye on it. You wait here, Ladyhawke, I'll fix it."

She couldn’t move as he pulled on his coat and went outside. She'd been caught wrong-footed by his response; he hadn't fought her. Even...even if he should have. Her words had been cruel and undeserved.

The fire grew in height, the smoke in the cottage slowly beginning to clear. She swallowed back tears, staring at the hearth.

The door opened behind her, then creaked closed. "Isabeau?" Philippe asked, kind, concerned.

"How long have you been taking our anger?"

He didn't answer.

Isabeau buried her face in her hands. "Philippe I—I shouldn't have—"

"It's alright."

"It's not."

Philippe sighed in fond exasperation, walking over to Goliath to check on him. Given how often he complained about "getting crushed by the gigantic creature," Isabeau was shocked out of her tears by it. Goliath bumped him with a quiet nicker, and he patted his neck. "I know, I know," he said. "It's cold enough to freeze the air in your lungs, big guy. Maybe it'll be warmer tomorrow, and the Captain will take you with him."

Goliath sighed as he ran his hands over the horse, checking his temperature. "It's the same with you and the Captain, My Lady," Philippe explained. "I have no problem with staying nice and warm here, but the two of you...you feel trapped."

"That's no excuse."

His mouth flattened. "Well. Better that you take it out on me than on each other. I know how to defuse the situation."

Thinking back...yes, he'd started interceding after she and Navarre had first snapped at each other. She'd wondered why it hadn't gotten worse. "Philippe, I—"

"Isabeau, it's okay."

"It isn't." She shook her head. "It isn't."

"Isabeau—"

"Does Navarre treat you as harshly as I just did?"

Philippe hesitated. "Well...not really, no. Not for the reason you think!" he hastened to add.

"And what do I think?"

"It's because of the ice. When the wolf fell through the ice." He kept speaking quickly, as if she would interrupt, even as her heart was choking her. "The wolf scratched me. When Imperious and I told him that his father's sword was lost, he didn't take it well. I said—it doesn't matter. He got mad and shoved me out of his way, and when he saw the scratches, he—" Philippe paused for breath, rubbing his chest. "That's...that's why."

Isabeau ran a hand over her face, taking a deep breath. It hitched. "We should talk about this. With him."

Philippe walked towards her. "My Lady, please. There's no need to—"

She pulled him into a fierce hug and squeezed. "Yes, there is," she murmured, tucking his head tight to her shoulder.

He relaxed into her hold with a sigh.

~

Things got better after they talked. Still tense and miserable, but they were better able to catch themselves and catch each other before things went too far. It was a good thing, too; a month later, they were still snowed in. They had food and firewood enough, and good company. It promised to be a good winter for them.

It was not a good winter for the wolves.

Navarre had seen the signs early—footprints too close, dangerously lean animals out during the day, scouting. "What can we do?" Isabeau asked. She did not want to kill a wolf.

Navarre sighed. He didn't want to, either. "The cottage is safe," he said. "We can keep Goliath inside easily enough, though he won't enjoy it. We can wait it out."

"But?" Philippe asked.

"But I'd like to do something to guard our door, bring the firewood closer." He glanced at her. "You won't be able to check your traps."

"That's fine."

"Isabeau," he said. "My crossbow?"

She nodded slowly. Much as she didn't want to, she would not let them come to harm.

"I could do it," Philippe said.

Navarre gave him a look. "I've seen your aim. Come on, I need your help to carry things."

Philippe groaned theatrically but pulled on his coat.

It was hard, difficult work, preparing to block off their door. Isabeau sat on the roof, the cold wind biting at her face. She kept her eyes open, her focus on the woods around them while they worked. Navarre had his short sword with him, but his hands were full more often than not. Philippe's dagger wouldn't be much use against a hungry wolf even if it wasn't buried under his coat.

Daylight began to fade as they continued working, and sounds filtered out from the woods. Isabeau adjusted her grip on the crossbow. "Navarre?"

He grunted. "Can you hold them off?"

Isabeau sighted a shadow in the woods and loosed an arrow, hearing a yelp in response. The answering snarls came from all around them, sending a chill up her spine.

"I'll keep working, Captain," Philippe said hurriedly.

She heard him draw his sword. "Stay behind me."

Philippe gave a slightly hysterical laugh. "You don't have to tell me twice."

Isabeau was careful in the dark to know what she was aiming at. She could hear Navarre driving off the hungry wolves, but kept her focus on keeping the pack from flanking him instead of succumbing to her fears.

When she heard Philippe cry out, she spun, aimed, fired. The wolf tumbled off him, letting Navarre get to him and pull him up. "Inside," he called up to her, holding tight to Philippe's arm.

She slid down off the roof, keeping an eye on the woods. The number of injured or dead wolves seemed to have given the pack pause—they made it to the door, next to two precarious towers of wood.

"I finished," Philippe said, seeming giddy.

"You did," Navarre said proudly, clapping an arm over his shoulders. Isabeau opened the door, letting Navarre pass Philippe to her. He hung back, checking their work.

A snarl cut through the darkness. Isabeau clutched Philippe closer. "Navarre—"

He stabbed out into the night and retreated quickly. When he closed the door, it was with a concerning thud and a clatter. Isabeau eyed her husband. "Will we be able to get back out come spring?"

He nodded. "It will take a while, though."

"You know, after falling through the ice I swore to myself that I'd never stay somewhere cold again," Philippe said, conversational.

Navarre winced. "Here, come to the fire," he said, guilt heavy in his voice.

"Ooh, fire." Philippe tugged at the furs around his shoulders with fingers made clumsy with cold. Isabeau stepped forward with Navarre to help him.

"I'm sorry," Navarre said, voice low.

Philippe laughed breathlessly. "Are you kidding? I'm the warmest I've ever been in my life."

He pressed a frigid kiss to each of their cheeks, then nearly collapsed. They caught him before he could fall. "Are you?" Navarre asked, holding him close.

"To be clear," he said, teeth chattering. "That was a m-metaphor. Captain, I am freezing."

The fire was warm, she would see sunlight tomorrow, and tonight Isabeau held her family in her arms. What better life was there than this?

~

"You know, 'Mouse' doesn't suit you."

Philippe paused with his hands in her hair, turning to stare at Navarre. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Captain," he said frankly before continuing to play with her short strands.

Isabeau glanced at Navarre, curious where he was going with his train of thought.

"Mice are timid creatures," he explained. "They're prey."

"And that doesn't suit me?"

"No, it doesn't."

Philippe scoffed. "Oh, please. I scurry about stealing, I'll never be as brave as you—"

"Braver," Navarre interrupted. "Or why else would you jump into freezing water with a wolf bigger than you?"

Philippe slowly stroked her hair again. The movement felt thoughtful. "If you're so set on complimenting me, Captain, who am I to stop you?"

"Clever as well. Too clever for your own good, sometimes. Mice aren't known for their cleverness, either." Navarre saw her watching him and winked. "Which is why I think a stoat fits you much better."

Philippe sputtered. "Did—did you just call me a weasel?"

Navarre was holding back laughter. "Not at all."

"Well! Of all the back-handed—if you're just going to insult me like this, I'll—"

"I did nothing of the sort."

"Stoats are quite noble, in their winter coat," Isabeau mused aloud. Really, she could see it. Philippe was quick and bold and could make his way anywhere he pleased.

Philippe paused to consider her point. "Besides which," he said, sounding careless about it. "'Philippe the Mouse' has a kind of ring to it. You can't ask a man to just throw away his reputation."

"Of course not," Navarre said, his smile indulgent. "Just a passing thought."

"Philippe the Ferret!" the thief exclaimed. "No, wait, forget it."

"Of course, Philippe," she said, patting his knee.

And if they both caught him smiling to himself, mouthing his new moniker, they didn't say a word.

fin

A hawk, a wolf, and a mouse decide how to live in a world of dogs and doves.

Rated Teen, set post movie. Starts with Isabeau/Navarre and becomes an OT3 with Philippe Gaston. Very much a recovery story; the curse changed them.

[dustedmagazine]

Ian Mathers’ 2022: Are you with me even now?

For the third year in a row, Low are part of my reflection on the year that just happened. But this time I don’t want them to be. They didn’t put out a record, I didn’t see them play live (virtually or not) even once. I don’t really want to spend a ton of time going over Mimi Parker’s death and the reactions to it (including my own); I can say this is the one time ever in my life that mourning an artist whose work I love felt anything at all like mourning someone I actually knew. For at least a month I thought about it all the time, read about it constantly, watched and listened to everything I could get my hands on, talked about it often. It felt ridiculous and necessary. I don’t know what happens with my favorite band now; I mainly just hope her family and other loved ones are doing as ok as possible. One wonderful and horrible thing about the reactions is that they were both more numerous and more heartfelt than I would have guessed; up until a few years ago running into other fans of their work felt a lot more rare. 30 years into what I personally think stacks up as one of the greatest creative runs in all of popular music (I’ve been ringing the bell about Low doing better, more vital and interesting work than other bands [x] years into their career since… 2007’s The Great Destroyer at least), I’m glad that people were noticing what they did. The bittersweetness of that, that at least by the end Low were a lot more widely and deeply loved than I would have guessed... I hope she knew that too. How many artists have passed before they made their Double Negative and HEY WHAT? We can never really know the extent of what the world misses out on when someone dies.

Other than that horrible pall weighing down the end of the year, though, at least on the small scale 2022 was pretty good to me. The world in general continues to feel more and more fraught (here in Canada too!) and we’re still not properly dealing with a pandemic. With us being an immunocompromised household… when you see people talking about leaving behind the chronically ill, it absolutely includes those of us who, pre-COVID, nobody could tell weren’t “normal” or “healthy.” I did get to a very few shows this year, masked. But mostly this was a third year in a row of just… never going out or doing most of the things we used to do. Both my wife and I switched jobs to positions that are both much more satisfying and important to us and, not incidentally, quite a bit better paying. By the end of 2022 we’ve hit the first time in our adult lives where (despite how little it would take to knock us back down) we’re not experiencing constant financial stress.

I could have guessed this would change my relationship with music, but honestly, would have underestimated the degree to which that would be true. I’m happier with my writing this year, both frequency and end result, although there’s always more work to do on those fronts. And without feeling like I was trying very hard to do so, I somehow listened to 170 new LPs and EPs over the course of the year. And I found a lot to like, too: my 2022 playlist in Swinsian (which I tried out and then switched to when the Apple Music program started having weird glitches and hours of tech support couldn’t help at all) currently has a little over 1000 tracks in it, equaling over 3 days of music. There’s still a near-infinite amount of stuff out there I’ve never touched or even heard of. But more than ever, it feels like I covered my particularly bailiwick(s) as thoroughly as could be expected of someone who still has a day job and relatively normal life.

This increased volume of input doesn’t necessarily make me think 2022 was a better (or worse!) year for music than any other, but it does lead to a list of records that I feel more strongly about. There are plenty of good records I am keeping in full that just didn’t make it onto my list(s), especially since I’m sticking with a top 40 like I did in 2021. In years where I’ve ‘only’ managed to check out 80-90 records, even a top 20 often covers just about everything I’ve solidly enjoyed from the year. In 2022, 40 records isn’t even half of that group. It has made me reflect a bit on just how sustainable this all is — do I just keep accumulating dozens of records I love every year I’m here? How often am I going to go back to any of them? And sure enough, one thing all this new listening has done has drastically slowed progress on my now years-long effort to corral and organize my existing collection. But I do feel strongly enough about what I loved this year, both from existing favorites and acts totally new to me, that I’m probably just going to kick those cans a little further down the road. I’m also mulling over how, if at all, I want to change my listening in the new year, not least because one of the major ways I discover new things ended in 2022 (RIP, The Singles Jukebox).

As I’ve mentioned before in these roundups, I don’t necessarily feel like every year these days I have an “album of the year” (and am generally loathe to try and rank things). This year I can’t decide if I have one or two; Cloakroom’s Dissolution Wave was one of my most anticipated and ever since I first got the promo back in January, I’ve been listening to it very regularly. One of the things I like about music writing (at least the way I do it) is that it forces me to listen to records a lot more than I would even if I otherwise adore them, and at this point I have an almost Pavlovian joy reaction to the beginning of “Lost Meaning.” For a long time, it seemed like it stood alone for me, and I think it still does, but I need to give at least an honorable mention to Let’s Eat Grandma’s Two Ribbons. It didn’t have the immediate impact on me the Cloakroom did, even though that first half, especially, is immediately ingratiating. But over months I found myself going back to it more and more and in another year, I could easily see it having the unquestioned top spot. I’ve seen neither in most year-end stuff, which makes me a bit sad.

So here are the lists; my 40 favorite LPs, followed by 5 EPs, 5 reissues and/or compilations, 5 releases from Aidan Baker (which makes up not even half of the releases from his various projects!), and 20 ‘loose’ songs either from records I liked but who don’t make it into the main list, or where this song was really the only one I liked, or just ones that came out on their own. If all the little extra lists seem like cheating, well, they kind of are. But this was as narrowed down as I could get it. All of the lists are in alphabetical order, and for all but the songs list any links are to where I’ve written about them here at Dusted. For the songs, partly because so many of them do have music videos (and I love music videos), I’ve actually just provided a link to the song on YouTube should you be so moved. Last year I ended by saying I hoped we’d all continue to get better at taking care of ourselves and each other in 2022. On a micro level, I can say that did happen for us, and many of our loved ones. I hope as much as possible it did for you too, and we can all find the strength to keep at it in 2023.

40 LPs

Aarktica — We Will Find the Light

Alvvays — Blue Rev

Aoife O'Donovan — Age of Apathy

Beyoncé — RENAISSANCE

Billow Observatory — Stareside

Black Ox Orkestar — Everything Returns

The Body & OAA — Enemy of Love

Bruno Bavota & Chantal Acda — A Closer Distance

Carly Rae Jepsen — The Loneliest Time

Charli XCX — Crash

Chelsea Jade — Soft Spot

Cloakroom — Dissolution Wave

Earthless — Night Parade of One Hundred Demons

Eric Cheneaux — Say Laura

Esmerine — Everything Was Forever Until It Was No More

Ethel Cain — Preacher’s Daughter

Fujiya & Miyagi — Slight Variations

Hagop Tchaparian — Bolts

Hatchie — Giving the World Away

High Vis — Blending

Horsegirl — Versions of Modern Performance

Hot Chip — Freakout/Release

Jessica Moss — Galaxy Heart

Kali Malone — Living Torch

Let’s Eat Grandma — Two Ribbons

Locrian — New Catastrophism

Loop — Sonancy

loscil — The Sails p.1/p.2

Michael Beharie — Promise

Oneida — Success

Party Dozen — The Real Work

SASAMI — Squeeze

Spiritualized — Everything Was Beautiful

Szun Waves — Earth Patterns

Use Knife — The Shedding of Skin

Vince Staples — RAMONA PARK BROKE MY HEART

Water Damage — Repeater

Wet Leg — Wet Leg

Winged Wheel — No Island

Winter — What Kind of Blue Are You?

5 EPs

Gillian Stone — Spirit Photographs

Greet Death — New Low

Picastro — I’ve Never Met a Stranger

Sun’s Signature — Sun’s Signature

Trauma Ray — Transmissions

5 Reissues/Compilations

Broadcast — Maida Vale Sessions

Laddio Bolocko — '97​-​'99

Les Rallizes Dénudés —’77 LIVE

Prolapse — John Peel session 20.08.94/John Peel session 08.04.97

Wire — Not About to Die

5 Releases From Aidan Baker

Aidan Baker — The Evelyn Tables

Aidan Baker — Tenebrist

Baker Ja Lehtisalo — Crocodile Tears

Nadja — Labyrinthine

Nadja — Nalepa

20 More Songs

Animal Collective — “Prester John”

Boy Harsher ft Lucy - Cooper B. Handy — “Autonomy”

Caroline Polachek — “Billions”

Chappell Roan — “Casual”

Death Cab for Cutie — “I Won’t Give Up on You”

Diatom Deli — “False Alarm”

Duke Deuce ft GloRilla — “Just Say That”

Flume ft Caroline Polachek — “Sirens”

HAAi ft. Jon Hopkins — “Baby, We’re Ascending”

Ibibio Sound Machine — “Protection From Evil”

Miči & Sun-EL Musician — “Respond”

MUNA — “Anything But Me”

Porridge Radio — “Back to the Radio”

Spoon — “Wild”

Steve Lacy — “Bad Habit”

Storefront Church ft Phoebe Bridgers — “Words”

Stromae — “L’enfer”

Sudan Archives — “Selfish Soul”

Yeah Yeah Yeahs ft Perfume Genius — “Spitting Off the Edge of the World”

yeule — “Bites on My Neck”

Ian Mathers

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s Embrace Date translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

(Bonus: Video+English Subtitle for better sounds effects-)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyKswEW7C4g

Translation under the cut!

“...Loveland City once again cracked an MLM den, and more than 40 women were successfully rescued...

...it's all thanks to a 'student' who sent a letter to the outside world. We were able to find the MLM den in the first place...”

I looked at the news on the web page, and I went to the comments section below with a click.

-Is there any interview with this 'student'? I'm curious how she reported the news!

-You can't interview her now. What if she gets retaliated by a fish that slipped through the net?

-Miss is amazing. She must be a very witty woman!

-Oh, are you kidding me? How can a woman who can be tricked into an MLM scheme has any wit?

Hah!

I slammed down the monitor switch, and instantly the black screen reflected my face. I was biting my lower lip, my eyes full of fear.

The experience of the last few days replayed uncontrollably in my mind, the mentor's ranting, the monitoring person's eyes, the students who fell into a frenzy...

Although I only experienced it for two days, if I stayed there for a few more days, I'm afraid that I would also collapse under such high pressure.

MC : ...Forget it, it's already over, there's no need to think about it again.

I stretched my arms hard, forcing myself to clear my mind and get ready to do something again when the phone rang.

Lucien : Am I bothering you?

The low mellow voice brushed by my ears, and calmed down my pounding heart.

MC : No, I happen to be free.

MC : Anna and the others said that I was fortunate that I survived, and they insisted that I rest at home for two more days before going to the company.

MC : When do you get off work, or shall we go out for dinner later?

Lucien : I took two days off, and I'm already outside the institute.

Lucien rarely asks for leave, so I couldn't help but be taken aback.

MC : Is there something going on?

Lucien: It's nothing. I just suddenly want to rest with you.

Lucien : I remember that the hot spring villa you've been longing for months has already opened for business in the past few days.

MC : Do you mean the one on the outskirts of town? I've been waiting for it for a long time...

Instead of staying at home, maybe I can change my mood somewhere else and wash my worries away with hot springs.

MC : Then wait for me to pack my things. I'll see you downstairs~

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

MC : I didn't expect the buffet dinner of this villa to be more luxurious than what I saw in the promotion!

MC : There's sashimi, steak, and even a tiny hot pot!

After soaking warm in the hot spring in the afternoon, accompanied by a hearty buffet dinner, the haze that had haunted my heart immediately dissipated.

On the opposite side, Lucien looked at the whole table and showed a hint of a conniving smile.

Lucien: Can you finish all of it?

MC :  There is no set mealtime. We can eat slowly~

Passerby A : Huh? Right next to your neighborhood?

While we were talking, the loud voice of the conversation across the table caught my attention.

Passerby B : That's right! It was suddenly closed that day. Who knew it was a place of pyramid scheme? It hid more than 100 people in it.

Passerby A : I must say that those little girls are too dumb. How can they still be deceived without being wary at all?

The harsh comments made my hand holding the chopsticks tremble, and the meatballs slipped from the tips of the chopsticks.

Lucien : MC?

There was a sigh from across the table.

Passerby B : I must say, they deserve this lesson too... They have hands and feet. Can't they escape?

MC : No, it's not....

I stared down at the empty bowl, a sullen breath rushing through my chest, but I couldn't find the outlet.

Lucien : Open your mouth.

Suddenly, a tender yellow ball was brought to my mouth.

I opened my mouth subconsciously, and only after the tip of my tongue touched a soft spot did I realize what Lucien was feeding me.

MC : ea urshin?(sea urchin?)

Lucien : How does it taste?

Lucien stared at me as usual, but I could see a trace of inquiry and worry in his eyes.

I pursed my lips, swallowed the sea urchin, and looked back at Lucien.

MC : Lucien, I'm okay. I've heard these words a lot these days...

MC : Besides, if these few words can defeat me, what kind of media person would I be?

MC : The company has also contacted the case investigation authorities and will begin to work on this topic in a few days.

Lucien : Are you going to do another show on this topic?

MC : Well, I want the public to be more vigilant so that there will be no more victims.

MC : Having said that, we can be regarded as witness this time.

Lucien : I am not a witness, but I am witness's family member.

He tipped his voice. As I raised the corners of my mouth, I also handed a prawn to him and followed his words.

MC : Anyway, thanks to the witty “family” who could understand my call for help on the phone. Otherwise, it would not have been so easy to get out of trouble.

Lucien : The hint you gave is too obvious to understand.

He paused

Lucien : “My child's father, I'm on a business trip these days. Don't forget to pick up Gardy from school.”

Lucien tilted his head slightly and imitated my tone. I giggled, but the scene at that time emerged in my mind.

At that time, I was being monitored by three people on a public phone call. Once Lucien on the opposite side said anything unusual, I would have no chance of escaping.

Fortunately—

On the other end of the phone, Lucien didn't hesitate and naturally answered.

MC : “What time does Gardy finish school, and what clothes does she wear today? I am afraid that there are too many children, and it will be difficult to find her.”

I also imitated his tone and said the secret code between us. Lucien smiled.

Lucien : “At 5:40, she was wearing the purple bellflower coat. By the way, she was not allowed to eat hamburgers on the way home, don't pamper her too much.”

While talking, Lucien's finger was pointing at the table.

Lucien : 540, Purple Bellflower, Burger restaurant.

Lucien : At that time of emergency, you could deliver these messages to me without the people next to you hearing them, which was very smart.

Lucien : The 540 bus stops, and you can see the purple bellflower and fast-food restaurants. So it takes a bit of work to line up, but it is not difficult.

He raised his glass to me.

Lucien : MC, you are much stronger than before.

The glass in our hands gently clinked, but the smile on the corner of my mouth was a little reluctant.

Am I really strong?

If I am really strong, why am I still shaken by the words of others and need Lucien's affirmation to give me strength?

If you are really strong, you should always be calm like Lucien. Thinking in this way,  I swallowed my sigh and wine together.

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

After dinner, we strolled around the villa in the sunset before returning to Lucien's room.

An old movie was playing on the TV. Lucien was leaning on the bed, reading a book, and I leaned against his arms, playing with his fingers.

I sighed when I saw that the hero missed the clue left to him by the heroine and wandered around the city like headless flies.

MC : This movie is too miserable because the male protagonist missed such a crucial clue, the two will be separated from then on...

MC : Luckily, you were not like him at the time. Otherwise I...

Before I finished speaking, Lucien's fingers that had just relaxed and held me back suddenly tightened.

MC : Are you okay?

Seeing me looking up at him, Lucien lowered his eyes and asked with a smile.

Lucien: What's wrong?

I was a little confused, but Lucien's expression was calm as if his movements just now were just instinctive reactions of his fingers.

My eyes followed his face to the pages of the book he was holding, and I became more puzzled.

MC : I remember...you seem to have read this page half an hour ago, right?

Lucien : I can't help it. The movie is better than the book.

Lucien : Now that the movie is over, don't you still plan to go to the orchard outside the villa tomorrow? Go to sleep.

MC : Okay...

Although I felt that Lucien was a little absent-minded, I didn't say anything, so I rubbed my head against Lucien and got a good night kiss from him.

Lucien turned off the wall lamp, and the whole room was flooded with darkness.

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

“Miss MC, don't you want to make a lot of money? as long as you invest, we promise to make you an upstream customer!”

“Xiao Gong said that you are a rich second generation. How can you have no money? Why don't you stay here for two days and learn more about it? “

“I'm sorry, MC, for bringing you here for an interview, but they won't let me go if I don't bring people in.”

“What did you say to this Lucien? You don't give him our secret, right-”’

MC: ....!

I gasped and opened my eyes with a jolt.

In the room late at night, the incense was light, the quilt on my body was soft, and Lucien's breathing beside me was steady and long.

I'm still at Hot Springs Villa. It was just a nightmare.

I rolled over and calmed my breath.

No one found out the secret code between Lucien and me, but I was tricked by the expatriate staff and detained...

Being monitored, having controlled sleep time, forced to listen to those lessons ten times, fifty times, a hundred times...

Including the resentful eyes cast at me by those captured “mentors” at the last minute....

Scene after scene lingered in my mind.

I turned again, and the cold sweat behind me felt so sticky that it was hard to sleep.

MC : It's all over. There's no need to think about it...

I whispered to myself and was about to turn over again when a hand clasped my waist from behind.

The warm body suddenly approached, and Lucien's low voice fell on the side of my neck.

Lucien: It seems impossible for you to speak your mind on your initiative, is it?

MC : Hey, how did you wake up... ?!

Before I finished speaking, Lucien had turned me around with his hand.

In the blue-gray night, his sunken pupils refract the dim light outside.

Lucien : I wasn't sleeping.

Lucien lightly stroked my back. His palm was so warm that my tense nerves slowly relaxed.

Then a kiss fell lightly on my eyebrow, like a feather.

Lucien : [kiss] Are you still afraid?

((THEY VOICED THE KISS AAAA, and yes, all kisses after this will be voiced-))

MC : A little...

Lucien : Is it really a little?

MC : Well, maybe more than a little...

As soon as I opened my mouth, a stream of air brushed the tip of my nose, and Lucien seemed to smile. The second kiss fell again, this time in the corner of the eye.

Lucien : [kiss] I think.... not only afraid but also angry?

MC : Yes...

Lucien : Well, what do you mean? [kiss]

The third kiss stopped on my lips, urging me to open my mouth to explain.

MC : Well, it's just that I am furious.

Lucien : Who are you mad at?

MC : The people who tricked me into meeting the interviewees, the “mentors,” and those who casually blame the victims …

MC : What they said was as if the victims deserved it, and the victims wanted to be brainwashed and ripped off!

Lucien : Did the “victim-blaming” annoys you?”

MC : Yes, it's disgusting and made me angry.”

Lucien smiled again, and the fourth kiss seemed to reward my honesty.

Lucien : [kiss] I'm glad you didn't get mad at me.

MC : How could I be mad at you...

Lucien: But if you keep your thought to yourself, I will feel that you are mad with me.

MC : I think wishful thinking will make me look immature.

Lucien : Being candid with each other is the real maturity, isn't it? So, leave all emotions other than anger to me, okay?

Lucien kissed my face again, and tonight he kissed one after another without any fervent desire, which unexpectedly made me feel at ease.

I couldn't help pouting and pecking his chin lightly.

MC : In fact, I want to tell you. But I didn't find the right time...

Lucien : [kiss] Now is the right time.

This time the kiss fell on the forehead and moved slowly down.

Lucien : MC, being strong and fragile do not conflict with each other

Lucien : It is normal to have lingering fears. A person may be able to spend a long time processing it, but...

Lucien : If you have someone to accompany you and create a comfortable and safe environment, you don't need to find the right time, but at any time.

MC : A comfortable and safe environment... Like now?

Lucien : Well, there are others, too.

MC: What else?

Lucien : Like water.

Lucien :  The connection between warmth and a sense of security is innate, and when there is a lack of sense of security, it is much more comfortable to soak in hot water.

Lucien : Want to try it?

Lucien turned his head slightly and gestured to the door. I thought about it and sat up.

MC: Then let's try it.

Lucien pushed up the glass door on the other side of the room, revealing the hot spring outside the door.

The hot spring pool in the suite is much smaller than the afternoon hot spring pool, but it is more private.

MC: Ah-choo!

The sudden sulfur smell mingled with the midnight night breeze, and I couldn't help sneezing.

I was looking for tissues when Lucien had already untied his robe and walked into the bath first.

The hot water covered the back of the feet, followed by the legs and waist.

The sound of water rushing and mist hitting my ears, Lucien's tall and straight back seemed to glow under the moonlight.

He slowly brought the water to his body, the water submerged his shoulders, and then slid down his smooth muscle lines.

The small mole on the back of the shoulder became more and more conspicuous, making people unable to look away.

He turned his head to look at me, with a sly arc at the end of his eyes and an ambiguous smile on his lips.

Lucien : Aren't you coming?

I couldn't tell whether it was his words or the heat of the hot spring that made me want to get closer.

MC: I'm coming

I took his outstretched hand and walked into the hot spring.

The gentle current ran through the narrow gap between each other's bodies, and his slender fingers crept into my fingers and clasped my palms together.

I also took a dip in the hot spring in the afternoon, but I prefer this small hot spring to the noisy big bath.

It was also at this moment that I truly gave my body and troubles to water and him.

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

MC: Phew~it's a lot easier to pour your troubles into the hot spring and take a shower.

Listening to Lucien's patter of water in the bathroom, I sat in the bedroom, wiping my hair and humming.

Maybe some time later, I may still be affected by that little lingering deep in my memory, but...

I looked at the bathroom, but with Lucien as my pillar, I will not be afraid no matter what I encountered.

Before I knew it, the sound of water in the bathroom had stopped. I shook my half-dry hair, rolled on the bed, and waited for Lucien to come out.

But after I waited for a few minutes, there was no movement inside the door.

MC : Lucien……?

There's no reply

Efficiency-oriented Professor Xu has never been dawdling on daily trivial matters, which made me even more puzzled. I got up and walked toward the bathroom.

MC : Lucien, have you finished showering?

I reached out and was about to knock on the door when the door opened. A hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the bathroom.

Before I could react, I was slammed against the wall with a bang, but there was no pain in my back.

In the next second, Lucien's kiss had already landed on my lips.

The slender fingers climbed up along my waist, becoming an obstacle between my back and the cold ceramics.

Ths kiss was different from all the kisses tonight, almost engulfing my breath with apparent demand and take.

I suddenly opened my eyes wide and saw his closed eyes and slightly frowned brows.

MC : Lu...cien....!

When the teeth were pried open, the throat rolled and swallowed back the syllables that about to come out.

I could feel his heartbeat through the thin bathrobe.

I was shrouded in burning heat, and my head was so dizzy that I couldn't help slipping.

Lucien's body also pressed over, and finally, we both fell to the ground together.

The water soaked my back, and Lucien also let go of my lips at this time.

Lucien : [gasping for breath] ....

Lucien held on to me, and he still carefully held my head even in such an eager and impulsive moment.

The ceiling light warmth spilled unrestrainedly. I was stung to squint, and only then did I meet Lucien's eyes.

I was reflected in his pupils, but in the depths of his pupils, he seemed to be hiding something that he didn't show to anyone.

MC : You…

I was vaguely aware of something and spoke in a hesitant whisper.

MC : Lucien, you...are also afraid?

MC : Did you have a hard time out there those two days?

MC : What you just said to me, were you using it to reassure yourself as well?

Lucien : …Yes.

He admitted it.

Lucien hugged me in this position, our heartbeat close. His fingers passed through my hair and rubbed it.

Lucien: I don't know if this counts as lingering fear.

Lucien's voice was a little hoarse, and the words were clear.

Lucien : A hundred thousand terrible thoughts flashed through my mind on the way to find you.

Lucien : When I was alone these two days, my mind would uncontrollably replay that incident.

Lucien : Maybe there's a more efficient way to investigate. Maybe I should have gotten more information on the phone. Perhaps I should have made the call earlier.

His head was buried around my neck, breathing heavily.

Lucien : When I watched that movie tonight, for a moment, my mind even foolishly flashed to what would happen if the same things happened to me.

Lucien : I.. I really don't like that about me.

There was a rare frustration in his voice that made my fingers tighten, and I almost blurted out.

MC : But such Lucien, I like it very much.

MC: I like Professor Lucien, who can think about things.

Will soaking in the hot spring make people want to get closer?

I can't help but hug Lucien back and listen to his heartbeat.

He hid his emotions even deeper than I did, and I had to work hard to reach out and touch him.

MC : I know Professor Lucien can handle his state of mind very well.

MC : As you just said, a person can process it through time.

MC : But I want you to recover a little faster and build a comfortable and safe environment for you.

MC : For example... how about kissing you and asking you questions like you just did??

Lucien's chest trembled against mine, and his low laugh came into my ears.

Lucien : There's nothing to explain. I've just confessed to my family. So, just hold it like this for a while.

MC : Just a hug?

Lucien : Well, it takes only 20 seconds for humans to hug to produce a biological hormone called oxytocin, which reduces stress and produces happiness.

MC : Is it so amazing... So if we have any problems in the future, why don't we all hug for 20 seconds?

Lucien : Good idea.

We didn't speak any more, just stayed in this position, exchanging breaths.

Only each other's heartbeats are apparent in the quiet and humid environment.

The first 20-second hug is on the bathroom floor. The second 20-second hug is on the way back to the bedroom.

I hung on Lucien like a koala and let him take me back to the bed step by step.

MC : It's a little cold

Lucien helped me take off my half-wet pajamas and wrapped the quilt around me, while the other hand was always tightly clasping my waist.

Lucien : Any more requests, Miss MC?

MC : Of course there is...

I hooked Lucien's neck and pouted at him like a scoundrel.

MC : No more questions, just kisses, notes, lots of them.

Lucien smiled vaguely and then used physical action to meet my request.

The third hug ...... is much, much longer than 20 seconds.

When I fell into exhaustion and was about to fall asleep, Lucien gave me my second goodnight kiss.

Lucien : *kiss* Good night. I hope your next dream is a good one.

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

Loveland city has been fine for several days, and the program I have prepared is also in steady progress.

I can already face the collected material with a better state of mind, and Lucien, as a program consultant, has answered many phenomena from a scientific point of view.

The program was divided into several episodes, and after it was broadcast, a wide range of discussions broke out among the public.

一The mental pressure is so terrible that I feel that I should pay attention to it at ordinary times and don't be coerced and brainwashed.

一Thank you, victims, for being willing to share your experiences. You're all brave!

一Indeed, the company of family and friends is the best medicine after going through something terrible.

I looked at the comments, thought about it, and rubbed my arm with all my strength. I was about to pack up and get off work when the phone rang.

Staff member : Miss MC, are you still in the company? There is a letter that you need to sign downstairs.

MC: OK, I'll come down right now.

I turned off the computer, picked up my bag, went downstairs, and took the letter from the postman.

MC: There is no sender. I have never been to the village where the mail was sent either.

I took the thin envelope and looked at it again and again. I didn't find anything. I was about to open it when a figure came to me.

Lucien : It seems that I am very lucky this time, neither early nor late, just in time for the great producers not to work overtime.

MC : Lucien!

I smiled and took his arm. Lucien saw the envelope in my hand.

Lucien : I saw you delving into this letter when I first came in. Is there a problem with it?

MC : It's just a little confusing... Anyway, we'll know when we open it.

As I said that, the envelope was already opened in my hand, and there was a photo inside.

Photo of a teenage girl in plain clothes, hugged by her mother, standing together among fields on a spring day, waving and smiling at the camera.

I stared at the girl's face for a while, thinking to myself.

MC: Ah, I have seen this girl! Right in that MLM den!

The face I remember was full of numbness and despair in that dim room, but now, her smile is so bright.

I let out a sigh of relief and pulled Lucien even tighter.

MC : She's back with her mom. It's great.

MC : I really hope that the wounds in everyone's heart can be healed by those around them. …

Lucien : Yes, because her mother is hugging her.

Lucien : If they can send the letter to you, they must have watched your show.

Lucien: Is this the only photo she sent?

MC: It seems like yes. I'll see if there are any others..

I turned over the back of the photo and saw that the girl carefully wrote two words stroke by stroke.

'Thank you.'

[yandere-sins]

Good evening or morning (wherever you are).... My request for today is Kaeya from genshin impact. What if he were to confess his love to a timid reader but *gasps* she reveals she has a boyfriend already. Smut is fine if you want.

Thank you so much 🦋

Thank you for requesting!! ♥ Part 2 of my trying to get back into smut OTL

Rated Lemon/Explicit!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««   

Even after everything that happened, you weren't able to forget the look on Kaeya's face as you broke the news.

True, you and your boyfriend had wanted to keep your relationship on the low, but not because you tried to deceive your friends, just so you two could have some peace while finding out more about each other and developing your feelings. But you never meant for anyone to look at you so... disappointed. Even if you were happy with your choice of partner, having to reject someone dear to you still hurt.

"Oh, [Name]," Kaeya sighed, shaking his head. Of course, he wouldn't be happy to hear the person he just asked out confess that they had a boyfriend. Perhaps especially because you two had always been relatively close, even more so lately where you were out almost every day after work. You felt a tinge of regret not telling him earlier. Save him the embarrassment you assumed he must feel. Then again, how could you have known that the charismatic Kaeya had feelings for you? He could have any woman in town, so why had it to be you? Of all people, you wouldn't have expected Kaeya to confess his love to you. Even if you two always got along fine, you thought yourself to look rather gray next to the shining knight that Kaeya was. Someone who wasn't fit to be anything more than friends with him.

"W-We can still continue being friends?" was the best and stupidest comfort you could come up with on the spot. You saw his grimace of disapproval, and it took him a second to collect himself, taking a deep breath before pushing himself away from the wall he had leaned on after learning the truth. Kaeya truly appeared devastated by the realization that you were taken already, and part of you could understand him. Certainly, you had just ruined his night and whatever companionship you two had, just because you couldn't have been more open from the beginning. It would have at least saved him some heartache, if any.

"Friends?" Kaeya mumbled, unfolding his crossed arms as he walked back to your side, leaning on the backrest of your chair. Feeling uncomfortably cornered, you stood up, looking around you. The outside of the tavern was lonely, and Kaeya had chosen this place for his confession surely to avoid any curious listeners. There were still voices coming from inside Angel's Share, but the streets of Mondstadt were quiet at this time of the night, with only his smooth voice reaching out to you. "With all due respect..."

Wrapping his fingers around your chin, you were forced to look up, staring right back into the mocking expression of your 'friend', the mood suddenly shifting. You had regretted having to reject Kaeya's feelings before, Kaeya always having been a good friend to you and hurting him felt wrong. But you would come to regret it much more that you went outside with him, away from the safety of the masses.

"I'd rather be anything else than your 'friend'."

»»————————

"Come on, Dove! Say it! I'm better than him, aren't I?"

"N-No--"

Your attempt to refuse this assumption was meekly interrupted by your loud gasps as Kaeya pushed forward. The curve on his cock was so perfectly aligned inside of you, constantly hitting the good spots whenever he plowed it inside. A cocky grin was on his face as he showed you off in the reflection of the mirror before you, spread over his legs and hanging in his grip on you. It was the biggest taunt he could think of, constantly reminding you how good you were feeling despite your initial refusal of him.

The image inside of the mirror wasn't one you had ever seen of yourself. That sweaty, drooling mess of a human, eyes unfocused and yet filled with pleasure, was nothing you could relate to. And yet, except for the occasional blue strands of hair falling over your skin and peeking out from behind your shoulder, your brain recognized the sight as you. Still, it was hard to accept this side of yourself, especially with his marks and hands. All. Over. It.

Kaeya only laughed as you tried to refute him, smirking a cocky grin from behind you. "Oh? Did Mr. Boyfriend not touch you yet? Even though you're such a little slut?"

His hand falling between your legs, Kaeya first brushed up your thighs, causing you to squirm from the sensation. His hands were trained and roughed up from handling swords, but the way he used them showed how skilled he was. Settling at your clit, he slowed down the rocking of his hips for a moment to get his fingers wet with your juices before picking up the pace again. There was no way you could deny how you were feeling after riding him for the better portion of time ever since he brought you to this city apartment of his, your body shivering and moving on its own with his hand teasing your clit, the additional pleasure riling you up.

"Look at your cunt gaping open for me~" he purred, opening your lower lips wide for the mirror to reflect your exposed entrance. Seeing how his shaft disappeared inside you clearly, you only felt hotter from embarrassment, turning your head which was quickly caught by his free hand, Kaeya turning it forward again - painfully so. His grip wasn't even close to how he had touched you before when you two had still been 'only' drinking buddies. You weren't sure how long he had feelings for you, but you wagered that these feelings must have changed much in the last hour, just like his touch. It once had been so gentle, kind. But now, it was rough and demanding, leaving no room for how you felt.

"Let go!" you said firmly, tearing yourself from his grip to avoid looking at this strange self in the reflection. You felt ashamed and embarrassed. Kaeya made a fool out of you, now that he had you in this peculiar situation. It's not like you wanted to cheat on your boyfriend and betray him in any kind. But your body reacted positively to it, making Kaeya chuckle as you tightened around him after seeing yourself, "You are enjoying it a lot, aren't you?"

It brought tears to your eyes, knowing it was Kaeya deeply lodged inside of you, but your sobs were just another incentive for him to continue. You couldn't even blame him for that - they did sound a lot like sounds of pleasure that overtook their place. Soon you were back to gasping and moaning, glad you at least weren't begging him for more with how shameful you behaved.

"You can still leave him," Kaeya suggested. Though a smile still played around his lips before he hid them behind your shoulder, kissing it tenderly, he sounded very serious. "Leave him and stay with me. No one needs to know what kind of slut you are, going behind his back."

"But I didn't!" you sobbed. "You forced me too-- You forced yourself on me!"

Without hearing the sigh falling off Kaeya's lips, you found yourself breathing in sharply as he made a sudden push, burying his cock even deeper inside of you, the base of it touching your body. The gasp was followed by a long moan, tears streaming down your face after he exploited your sensitivity so much. It was a regrettable, disgusting moan signaling how much you enjoyed him hitting these sweet spots of yours.

Your gaze fell back to the mirror, showing the pleasure-stricken expression on your face. Even though you knew you shouldn't feel this way, Kaeya simply seemed to know all the right things to do, and he used all of them. It was bitter, but he did make you feel... erotic. Made you feel like something you never saw yourself as. Something your boyfriend couldn't make you feel.

With him, it was sugary-sweet puppy love, but with Kaeya, there was so much more. Desire, carnal at that. Love, demands, obsession. No matter how either of you moved your body, it was exciting, making your heart race. Every glance at yourself in the mirror made your body tingle, and every one of his pushes sent waves of excitement up your spine. You wished to have experienced these things with the person you truly loved instead of the hawk watching you from behind.

"I know," he mumbled, his hands driving up from your pussy to your chest, giving your breasts an equal squeeze. Taking in a sharp breath, you held back, instead having Kaeya be the one to groan lowly into your shoulder as you tightened around him. "I'll take so much better care of you than that boy. I can make you your true self, don't you think? You're wasted on everyone but me."

"Just finish it," you breathed heavily, and Kaeya sighed.

"As you wish."

Picking you up by the legs, Kaeya hoisted you up into the air, taking a few steps forward to stand right in front of the mirror. It was a breathtaking sensation to feel his cock carving you out from the dynamic motions, your walls gladly welcoming every inch before confining his member inside. You really could do without a closer look at how his cock slid in and out of you, sloppy sounds and tingling sensations running through you, but it almost made you wonder if you'd be able to experience the same sensations that Kaeya put you through, ever again once this was over.

"Hope you're ready for what you wished for," he reminded you, and you instantly began to realize alarming innuendos in his choice of words and the teasing tone of his voice, struggling in his hold.

"N-Not inside!" you yelled at him, slinging one arm over his head to be the one to tightly grip his face this time. "You can't cum inside!"

"Oh, really?" he taunted you. You squeezing his cheeks together didn't change the fact that he could grin like a Cheshire cat out of fairytales. "Give me one good reason not to."

"I can't bear your baby! I just can't!"

Grinning even wider, Kaeya let you drop a few inches to kiss your nose. "You'll need to do better than that."

Biting your lip, you thought about what he could want to hear from you, eventually realizing the level you'd have to stoop to. A baby would ruin everything, especially if it was Kaeya's baby. Even if things wouldn't turn out the worst way possible, it would still be a lifelong reminder of this ordeal he put you through. Your pride was worth nothing in exchange for the future you always wanted to have.

"P-Please..." you mumbled, the quick pace with which he was ramming into you making it hard to speak. At the same time, it urged you to hurry, as it wouldn't be long now before he'd fulfill the deed inside of you.

"I can't hear you~"

"Please don't cum inside me!"

Halting abruptly, Kaeya looked at the mirror image of you two, thinking for a split second before he resumed the pounding--this time, determined to finish. It was almost like you were hit by thunder, every movement releasing more shocks through you. You were a panting mess, but Kaeya wasn't far from it either. His eye would close halfway as he sunk into pleasure with you, both of you falling deeper and deeper into this hole.

Until it was finally over, your body curving and stretching, Kaeya's grip tightening to hold you throughout your orgasm, fingers digging into your supple thighs. Closing your eyes, you felt like flying, carried by a cloud, away from all the bad things and surrounded by the comforts and excitement that only intimacy could cause. You were almost lost in the orgasm before a part of you recalled the danger that was Kaeya, but much to your relief, when you opened your eyes again, he pushed in deep for the last time before suddenly lifting your up and off his cock.

Spurts of white semen shot through the air, landing on your reflection's stomach almost exactly where it would have landed inside of you. Both of you huffing, exhausted and spent, you watched as it dripped off the slick surface, leaving its stains there rather than inside of you.

Kaeya finally dropped you down, your legs unsteady, but his hold never ceased and kept you up. "Thank you..." you muttered, finding it hard to believe that after all he did, you were still thanking him for not cumming inside. Finding yourself in his arms rather than the ground, you refused the kiss he wanted to plant on your lips, instead turning your cheek, but Kaeya didn't seem to mind.

"I think you owe me something," he whispered into your ear before you felt his teeth bit into your lobe, making you flinch. "I did pull out like you asked me to."

"I owe you nothing, you... you bastard! You fiend! You...!" Your feelings took the upper hand as you heard what he demanded from you now. It was hard not to raise your voice when he dared to tell you about what you owed him after taking you against your will.

Laughing out loud, Kaeya quickly composed himself again, pretending to be hurt. "Ouch. I didn't know you knew these kinds of words."

A sudden rough pull in your hair yanked your head back, your body arching under the force and pressing against his while Kaeya towered over you, never letting his gaze stray from you. "Call me what you want. I don't care what you think, I'm not your friend, remember? I am anything but your stupid, little friend."

This time he took your mouth as he pleased, ramming his lips into yours and slipping his tongue down your throat. When he finally spoke again, his words were nothing but threatening to you, an anxious knot building in your stomach.

"That's why you'll break up with that asshole, you understand?"

"Why would I! Just leave me alone! You had what you wanted!"

"You still don't understand it," Kaeya sighed, releasing your hair briefly before tangling it around his fingers again, pulling you back even further and making you fear your spine would snap. "You are what I want! You belong to me! I was nice this time, but I will change if I must. Break up with him and make it easy for both of you. And then you'll come back to warm my bed, understand?"

Gulping, you put on a brave face, trying to face his stare head-on. This was getting out of control; you couldn't let him win with all his endeavors! No matter how you thought about Kaeya before, this wasn't the man you had come to like and appreciate in the past. He was something, but you could only hope it was still a human.

"And what if I don't?" you asked, using all the courage left inside of you.

"Oh darling, believe me," he laughed, unexpectedly pulling away all of his hands, your body unable to keep itself up and plummeting to the floor. Instant waves of shock and pain hit you, but when he stepped between your legs, you couldn't help but look up to him. How could you have been so wrong about a person you spent so much time with? Who was this man claiming to love you?

"You will do as I say, or everyone will know what kind of slut you really are. Especially your fine boyfriend. Who do you think the people will believe - their charming cavalry captain or some random chick that was seen laughing and hanging around him a lot?"

You opened your mouth to protest, wanting to prove him wrong, wanting to tell him Mondstadt cared about you as much as they did about him. But... was this wrong to assume? Would they really believe your word against his? With a reputation like Kaeya had, would you stand a chance to win against him? You couldn't imagine living a different life than you had so far, so would you be able to deal with the branding of a cheater? Realizing these questions, you closed your mouth again, scrambling to get up and collect your clothes from the ground. You were ready to storm out of the room, just go home and forget about everything that happened but reaching for the doorknob, Kaeya approached you from behind, holding the door shut with his hand.

"Don't hate me too much, okay? I really, really love you, [Name]."

He sounded anxious as he whispered these words against your head, leaving a trail of kisses. How could you believe this? How could you believe any of what he was saying? Just now, he had forced you into a level of intimacy you hadn't been ready for, threatened you, and made demands. And now he came to you, showing these rare moments of vulnerability and insecurity that made you special before all of this went down. What could you still believe about Kaeya?

"This isn't love," you mumbled, twisting and turning the knob to leave, deciding you couldn't listen to his voice anymore.

"You'll come to understand that this is love," Kaeya chuckled. You could hear the bittersweet smile on his lips as he planted one more kiss on top of your shoulder before he pushed himself away, letting you escape into the night.

Only when the cold, fresh air engulfed your heated body could you finally collect your thoughts. Your body ached, and yet, it tingled with every step, remembering you of the pleasure you had experienced through him. Disgusted and appalled by yourself, you made your way back home, crying the whole time, wondering what went wrong.

It was all Kaeya's fault, right? He went mad and did these unspeakable things to you. He was jealous because you had a boyfriend already and rejected him. None of this was your fault... right? But at the same time, would he make these threats come true? Was there really no other way than to break up with your boyfriend? Could you do nothing but obey his demands if you wanted to keep living your life? Was the love he had for you really love?

These questions kept you up all night.

All while Kaeya sipped on his drink, satisfied with himself, studying the image of you he had in his mind and the cum stains on his mirror. Stains he only planned to add to but never get rid of.

Just like you'd never get rid of him.

[themovieblogonline]

Fans of The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power have been waiting with bated breath for the explosive new season, and if you’re anything like me, it’s the dynamic between Galadriel and Sauron that’s kept you hooked. To dive deeper into this epic saga, I had the pleasure of speaking with The Rings of Power stars Charlie Vickers (Halbrand/Sauron) and Morfydd Clarke (Galadriel). Their take on the evolving relationship between these iconic characters will make you rethink everything you thought you knew about darkness and light in Middle-earth. Let’s just say, things are about to get real... and complicated. https://youtu.be/Mw5GhL1cFRY A Tug of War Between Power and Possibility When I asked about the relationship between Galadriel and Sauron from season one and how it evolves into season two, the actors’ perspectives were as thought-provoking as you'd expect. Charlie (playing Sauron) reflected on the relationship as two extremes, which, to be fair, sounds about right for Galadriel and Sauron, one trying to save Middle-earth, the other trying to dominate it. But the interesting bit? They aren’t as different as you might think. "Galadriel shows him possibilities he couldn’t even imagine," Charlie said, referring to how the two characters initially align, albeit in a twisted way. "She brings light and goodness, but Sauron sees in her a way to control others. It's all about power." If you thought they were ever on the same side, think again, season two will make that clear as the characters' motivations drift apart. Morfydd Clarke chimed in, explaining how Galadriel's journey has become more introspective, especially after the events of season one. "She has to fight her own cynicism," Morfydd said. "It’s about believing things can get better, even when you don't know if they will." But let’s not sugarcoat it, this isn’t some sunshine-and-rainbows character arc. Galadriel, just like Sauron, has her flaws, and Morfydd brings a perfect balance of strength and vulnerability to the character. A Power Struggle with a Side of Humility Now, if you thought playing the dark lord was all fun and games, think again. For Charlie, portraying Sauron in season two was about embracing a different side of the character. Gone is the sleek, brooding Halbrand from season one; Sauron has a new look, a new walk, and a new voice. But the internal struggle remains. "He’s still trying to save Middle-earth, just in his own way," Charlie explains, but with less altruism and more... control. For Morfydd, season two presented Galadriel in a different light. She's been humbled, much like the elves around her, which Morfydd found fascinating. “It's fun playing a character who's so powerful but is brought low," she said. "Galadriel now has to deal with the consequences of her actions and the reality of Middle-earth’s imperfections." Characters You Can’t Help But Relate To So, what do Charlie and Morfydd have in common with their characters? Well, turns out, there’s more overlap than you might think, at least in the organizational sense. Charlie admitted he likes things "ordered," just like Sauron, who despises wasteful friction. "It makes him sound conflict avoidant," he joked, "but he’s definitely not avoiding anything." That’s Sauron for you, everything’s gotta run like a well-oiled machine. Morfydd, on the other hand, shared that she struggles with cynicism in real life, much like Galadriel, but she holds onto the belief that things can always improve. "It's been wonderful to play a character that keeps me on my toes," she reflected. The Iconic Scene That Stole the Show You’d think a show like The Rings of Power would be all about dragons, epic battles, and breathtaking landscapes. And don’t get me wrong, there’s plenty of that. But some of the most powerful moments come from the smaller, more intimate scenes. Morfydd brought up her favorite moment from season two, the conversation between Galadriel and Elrond, where Galadriel is struggling to keep hope alive in a world that seems to be falling apart. “You’ve got to keep striving for things to be better, even if you don’t think you’re going to win,” she said, summarizing the scene perfectly. It’s the kind of moment that gives you chills, even if you’re not an elf. Meanwhile, Charlie was all about his own character’s death scene. "It’s canon! I was shooting arrows, impaling people with spears, it was incredible," Charlie recalled, almost as if he was still reveling in the sheer joy of playing such a legendary villain. The Takeaway: A Dark Dance Between Galadriel and Sauron As we wrapped up the interview, it was clear that season two of The Rings of Power is about far more than just the epic clash between good and evil. It’s about the fine line that separates them, and how even the most noble of intentions can be twisted by despair and power. Charlie and Morfydd’s insights into their characters’ journeys were as enlightening as they were entertaining. Whether it’s the shifting relationship between Galadriel and Sauron or the ever-deepening struggle within each character, one thing’s for sure, season two is going to keep us all on the edge of our seats. Read the full article

[staygolddindjarin]

Grief

Chapter One: History

Din Djarin x Reader x a bunch of other star wars characters

Series Summary: Raised on Mandalore, born into a bloodline of warriors, no one ever expected for the daughter of a Clan leader to go rogue. Leaving the life of security and making the journey to fight in the war against the empire meant many things... giving up the way of the Mandalore, and giving up a solid future. A future that involves an arranged marriage to a foundling from another clan.

Chapter Warnings: Oof this ones kinda angsty right off the bat- ⚠️ attempted suicide?? Kinda?? Age gap (reader is underage, but don't worry it's just for the sake of backstory and also there's no spicy, so...) mentions of death and afterlife, fluff if you like squint really hard

A/n: hello there... I'm sorry to inflict tumblr with this atrocity, but wattpad had to deal with it so tumblr can too. I wrote a different version of this on my wp with an OC name, but I know that not everyone cares for that so this won't include that. Also this series will be such a slow burn... prepare yourself ahead of time because it's going to be agonizing

Words: 6.3k+

SERIES MASTERLIST UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Part 1/?

"Pehea gar mar'eyir ni...."

How did you find me....

He came and sat beside me, the sound of metal scraping agaisnt the ground when he knelt first.

"Gar cuyir te shi solus tion'ad comes olar jii.  Ni kar'taylir gar jate'shya gar mirdir Ni vaabir," He responded.

You are the only one who comes here now. I know you better than you think I do.

I heaved a deep breath before letting it out in an exhausted sigh. Speaking in my native tongue was something I always appreciated, but now sitting here it felt nearly uncomfortable, but there was a reason for that.

"I wanted to be alone," The words from my mouth were no longer in my language, and he shifted beside me, trying to convey his confusion without a word.

"Care to elaborate?" He suggested, his asking tone was harsh... but then so was everything else about him.

I didn't really feel like explaning my feelings at the moment. I didn't want to focus on the very thing he was asking about. Even though he wasn't absolutely sure of what he was asking.

"You wouldn't understand if I told you," I trailed off.

"Try me." His voice wasn't any softer, but the sincerity he rarely showed had seeped into his tone.

"I really don't think it's a good idea. You really won't understand, and for all I know you could make things worse off for me than they already are," I didn't like it when he let his guard down around me. I didn't like getting closer to him, even though I was supposed to.

"I can't force you. Whatever it is, I wouldn't get myself too worked up," He sounded hurt, but I couldn't bring myself to believe it was by my words. He was too strong to be wounded by such trivial things.

He moved in his seat, beginning to stand, and for some reason the thought of being alone like I had originally intended seemed like a horrible idea.

I reached out to grip his arm. I kept my gaze forward, knowing that even if I looked at him I could not see his eyes.

"Stay."

He didn't hesitate. He sat down again, and I no longer felt guilt for the hurt in his voice a moment prior.

We sat for a moment in silence, just looking over the cliffside, into the deep canyons that wove in between settlements and encampments of our tribes and clans.

"I don't want this life," I whispered. I had only half hoped he would be paying enough attention to hear me. My voice was soft enough that he might not have.

"What do you mean?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, regretting the choice to even say what I did. I felt a shiver go down my arms, and I felt the wind come into the old open cavern, making the air around me chill. My arms were exposed, for I didn't expect the cold tonight. I didn't expect to be here this long.

"I'll turn sixteen in four days. I will either take the creed, or deny everything I've ever been taught. I'd leave if I do that," I finally gave a glance in his direction. He looked back at me, or at least the beskar did. I could never tell where his eyes were.

"You want to leave?" That pained tone of his voice had returned. The one I felt guilty for without actually believing I had done anything to cause it.

I did. I wanted to get off this planet. Away from the responsibility of becoming what everyone expected of me.

"I have to. It's the only way I will ever be at peace, but I'm not sure if I truly have the strength to stand in front of my family and deny the creed."

I could run away. I had some friends who were planning to jump a transport and join the rebellion against the empire.

They had offered me to be apart of this, but I had refused, believing that I would follow in my ancestors footsteps and take the creed. My father had already provided the beskar for my helmet to be made. It was already in the armourer's possession. All that was left was for me to come of age.

"Where did you go, just now?" He noticed my lack of attentiveness to my current reality, and brought me back to where I was. On the drafty cliffside, with my legs hanging over the end.

"Nowhere. I was just thinking about the future," I had admitted. Though I felt the need to stay emotionally distant from him, and not let myself develop a closeness, I knew I could trust him with my life, which is why I even revealed these things to him in the first place.

"What do you think your future will look like?" The tone that brought me guilt had again left his voice, but was replaced by something else... was it fear? I could not even think of theorizing that he could ever be scared. He was one of the bravest in his clan. Never had he shown an ounce of fear to anyone or anything. How stupid of me to even wonder.

"Merc and his crew are gonna stow away on a crate transport tomorrow. He has contact with the rebellion. He said that I could go with them if I was up for it," I looked down, almost embarrassed at admitting a plan of escape to someone so loyal to this place. Even though he wasn't born on this planet, and even though he wasn't a blood member of any tribe, the foundling was more of a mandalorian than I could ever be.

"You've agreed?"

"No. Not yet," I shook my head. I didn't feel like my reasons were valid. Having him sit beside me, and ask me these things made me realize that I needed to explain myself further.

"Din, I want to be free. I don't want to spend the rest of my life under a code that is so restricting to me, binding my every decision. Everything I'd do would have to be following after the creed."

He didn't respond, and even though his features were shrouded under the reflective surface of his beskar, I could tell he was thinking of something.

"I'm not yet sixteen, but when I am... I don't want to be locked down under a piece of metal. I don't want to have to be bound to this planet or a clan. I want to go some place far away and be something that is different than what everyone expects of me. I want to fight battles against the empire, I want to make my own rules. I want to be free to marry who I love, and not be betrothed to whoever my father chooses for me," I finished off my speech about freedom, but realized the last sentence too late. I should have chosen a better set of words.

Din's head hung down, looking at the wrist guards he wore. He shook his head back and forth and before I could interject, he began speaking.

"So that's why...." he trailed off. I was honestly too scared to say anything now. Why must I speak so bluntly and hurtfully honest to people? Perhaps it is because I had never gotten close to him that now I had no fear in what I said to his face.

"If the reason you plan to leave your family is because of me, then-"

"No," I said harshly, catching him off guard. I was usually snippy with others, but I had never before shown a tendency to be angry or intense with my speech. "Believe me, this has nothing to do with you."

"You have always shown enthusiasm towards coming of age. It's only now, when we are arranged, that you show any difference," He brought on certainty in his voice that I nearly couldn't deny, but the truth was... it really wasn't about him. "I can converse with your father, the rest of the clan... I will find a way to break it off if it will make you stay."

"Din, I don't want you to do that. If you don't believe me when I tell you that you are not the cause of this, then so be it, but I will not have you ruining your good name in my favor, when it won't even stop me," The heat of the moment provided actual, physical warmth for me in the time I was running my mouth off, but now that I had finished, and begun to calm down, I felt the freezing air on my arms again, wrapping them around myself and drawing my legs closer to generate more body heat.

"Are you cold?" He changed the subject, needing something- anything else to say.

"Its not exactly warm up here," My voice was low and sarcastic, but at hearing my words, Din stood up and stepped behind me. Before I even had a chance to ask him what he was doing, I felt his thick woolen cape being draped around my shoulders.

I smiled softly, not even a real, full smile. More of just a small tug from the side of my lips. My real smile was saved for later.

"Thank you."

He nodded as he sat back down, letting his legs fall over the cliffside.

"So you're gonna leave with them, aren't you?" His head turned to face me, but I couldn't dare try and stare at the beskar while thinking of what I would do. This choice was the beginning of the rest of my life.

"I think so," I didn't think. Thinking was what I had been doing too much of. Now I was certain. This was my choice. I was going to start new, and become something different. I may have been born on mandalore, but I was definitely not a mandalorian.

I had a rush of confidence come through me until I remembered what this meant. It all hit me like a dropship coming out of hyperspace. What was I thinking?

"No," I whispered. Din didn't understand my sudden discouragement, but he would soon.

"Merc and his friends already denied the creed. He's a foundling. They all are," I started to tear up as I realized what would happen to my family. The loss of a child in a clan is bad enough, but my family hadn't done anything to dessrve this. They were caring. They had shown me love. They had given me the best life I could ask for on a planet with such a religion.

"Second thoughts?" He asked genuinely, scooting closer beside me as to maybe get more information from my body language, or even my breathing.

"I can't do this. My family would be ruined. If I ran away, they would be punished for it," I felt tears coming up in my eyes. My clan was good to me. The people were kind, and I found solace there. Even if I had always dreamt about something bigger, I couldn't bear to let ruin come upon my family name. It wasn't fair to let that happen, especially when the only thing in the way was my own selfishness. "I can't leave my family."

I let the tears stream down my face, not even bothering to wipe them away. The contrast of the cold wind on my hot, tear streaked face had helped to calm me down a little.

"If you plan on staying, you understand that I am apart of your future here, don't you?"

"Din, I already told you before... you are not the reason I want to leave," I tried my best to keep myself together, but with my wet cheeks and red, puffy eyes, I didn't see how that could be an option.

What if there was another way to freedom?

I sat, trying to think of some stories that the other clan members would talk about.

"Din?"

He hummed in response, keeping his gaze on me.

"Has anyone in your clan ever mentioned afterlife?" I maybe should have taken a different approach to this. He seemed to be rendered speechless by my topic of conversation, but I had to ask.

"You mean after death?" He asked me and I nodded.

"I've heard some stories."

I thought about how it had been described to me. A paradise, with never-ending happiness, and unlimted freedom. Freedom.

"After you die, you appear in the world as another life. You can do whatever you want and no one has consequences for any of it. It's like a world without chaos. Everything is perfect," I remember every word as it comes out of my mouth. The words that were spoken to me, more like taught to me when I was a bit younger by the elders who had retired from their days of battle.

"It sounds too easy." He said, ripping me out of my fantasy.

"That's the point. You don't have to worry about anything or anyone, because you can do as you please, and everything will still be the same. All you have to do is die...."

"Like being reborn into a different world."

"Exactly."

I hesitated to take my safety blaster from it's holster under my hip, and when I did, I looked at it before pointing it out in the distance and testing the trigger. It shot a blast of lazer energy out into the air, landing somewhere beneath us in the canyon.

I decided that this was not an act to pursue at the moment, for Din was sitting right beside me, and the sight of watching a young girl pull the trigger against her own head might be an unpleasant one. Even for him, though he has seen worse.

I put the blaster back in it's holster and stand up from the rocky ground. Din follows suit, looking down at me with quiet concern. I wouldn't have known it until now, but I wondered if he had come to care for me at all during these last few weeks we had been betrothed.

I'd known him the majority of my life anyways, so I knew he must have felt some sort of attachment to me, but in what form, I hadn't ever cared to ask.

He kept breathing heavily as he looked down at me for a few moments, and it almost sounded like he wanted to ask me something. The question was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to utter the words.

"Here's your cape back," I slid the material off my shoulders, trying to hand it back to him, but he pushed it back towards me.

"You should keep it for now. The sun is nearly down, it will only grow colder."

He reached his gloved hand up to my face, and I could swear I felt the warmth of his hand beneath the coarse leather.

I only nodded, and leaned forward, trying to lean my head into him, but he carefully stopped me, his hands on my shoulders. Instead he rested his helmet against my forhead, and the cold beskar wasn't such a bad feeling as it rested there.

"I won't let you down. I promise." He said, clueless of my plans for later tonight, after the tribes were asleep, and no one would be at the cliffside.

"I know you won't. You're a good man, Din Djarin." I paused, trying to gather better words. "A true Mandalorian if there ever was one."

The moment didn't last any longer because of how frigid the air was becoming. It was warmer back with the tribes, they always had a fire burning.

Without another word, we both left the old artillery cavern and hiked down the side of the canyon to get back to our own clan territory.

Once I was at the edge of mine, I turned around to utter a simple goodbye, and found that he was very close behind me. His hand came up and rested on my shoulder, lightly squeezing it.

Maybe this was the last time we would see each other. Tonight I would envoke my plan to freedom, to rebirth. Perhaps we would meet in another life. Perhaps I would have just enough memory of this life to try and find him in the next one. One where I will have freedom.

Tonight I had gotten closer to the metal clad Mandalorian than I ever had before. I didn't regret it. He listened to what I had to say, and there were few who ever did.

His hand fell from it's place on my shoulder, but I didn't let him walk away yet. I pulled him into an embrace, feeling him tense up for a moment before reciprocating. It took him a few seconds to let out the breath he was holding in, but when he did, he found himself relaxing into the comfort.

"Goodbye, Din," My voice wasn't sad, or overly sensitive in any way. I figured it actually sounded quite optimistic.

"You know I'll see you tomorrow." He said, reminding me of the clan meetings. Once a month the clans would gather and each tribe would go over the agenda for whatever was to happen soon. Battles were normally discussed, but tomorrow, me and a few of the others in the other clans would be talked about. Our ceremonial coming of age where we would take the creed.

"Yeah... right. Don't come looking for me, I don't plan on showing up," I said quietly, careful in anyone was to hear me.

He pulled me back at arms length and looked at me, but his black blast shield hid his features and I could not tell if he thought I was crazy or not.

"How come?" His voice was also quiet, as we noticed some of my clan passing by to get to the fire.

"Don't worry about it. You'll still see me tomorrow," I lied. Or did I? Everyone within the five neighboring tribes would probably see me tomorrow.

He nodded, pulling us all the way apart and stepping back.

"Good."

He didn't look like he was gonna walk away until I had gone into the hub of my clan's small village. I turned around and walked towards the large fire, seeing my mother. Her helmet was unmistakable. The pattern of the strill engraved into the side of the beskar. It was her signet. A worthy kill of her days in battle. I would never have one. I walked towards her when she noticed me.

Her modulated voice let out a small chuckle, before I stepped beside her.

"It is well to see you spending time with Din Djarin. Me and your father were afraid you may not have been fond of him," She kept her gaze on the fire, speaking only loud enough for me to hear her, given that the other mandalorians of our village were also gathering around the fire, conversing with each other the same way we were.

"I am fond of him, why would I not be?" I was unsure of what she meant. Sure, I had been keeping a distance between us since my father had arranged our marriage, but I never had shown that I wasn't fond of him. I was polite, and gave him attention when it was asked of me.

"Whenever I or your father bring up the discussion of your eighteenth birthday, you always seem to act like it's the plague," She was smirking under her helmet, and I could tell. I could always tell what face she made underneath her metal covering.

"Maybe it's the fact that I dread getting married at all. I'm not opposed to Din, though," I convinced her. I wouldn't have to try and do that again after tonight.

"Whatever it is, your father will be pleased to know you and him were in each other's company. Although I will stray from telling him you two were alone... you were alone, weren't you?" She turned her metal covered head, trying to figure out from the look on my face.

"Yes," I answered truthfully, knowing there was no point in lying. No damage could be done at this point, except for maybe towards Din.

"And what were you both doing?" She tilted her head, and I let mine drop. I would tell her the truth, because nothing bad could come from it. Or could it.

"We were just talking... about the future," I answered.

"Your marriage..." She suggested, and I nodded, knowing that it did come up in the conversation.

"Yes."

"I shudder to ask if consummating was apart of this conversation," She looked back at the fire, knowing how red my cheeks would turn and how embarrassed I would be.

"No, nothing like that. I can promise you," I shivered at the thought. Din was a good man, but I didn't necessarily need to be letting thoughts like that intrude my mind.

Everyone else around the fire seemed to be distracted by the glowing flames, and my mother was soon the same, so I suggested my absense.

"I'm going to go in for the night, get some rest. Big meeting tomorrow..." I said before reaching out and squeezing her hand tightly.

She nodded to me, and I took my leave, walking towards our living quarters on the opposite side of camp.

I wasn't looking where I was going, and brushed my shoulder against Merc, who was with Gander and Shyloh.

"Sorry, didn't see you coming," I told him, but he shook his head, optiing ti ask me a question instead.

"Don't worry about it, I was looking for you anyway... Did you think about the offer? We leave at sunrise on the north delivery tarmac," He informed me, but I didn't have an answer. I wasn't staying here, but I wasn't leaving either.

"You'll know if I show up," I gave him a smirk, partially just because I was glad to see someone's actual face tonight, and not just a metal facade.

"We can't wait up for you, just know that."

I nodded, letting them get by. Maybe I could go with them. Live this life freely without starting another one.

No.

My family will not be able to handle that. It's better off if I'm dead. At least they won't go on to believe that I betrayed them, turning my back on all loyalty they had ever taught me. They would nevwr wonder if I ever loved them or planned on keeping their wishes.

I could start fresh. They wouldn't have to worry about me anymore. And I wouldn't have to worry anymore either. Rebirth.

I went straight to bed, clutching the woolen blanket beside me close to my chest.

For some reason I felt a pang of guilt in my chest. Something that made the sting of salty tears swell in my eyes. I knew that what I was doing was best, but yet I started having a hard time justifying something so drastic. They would get on fine without me, wouldn't they? They would go on living by the creed. This is the way. They will find a way to go on without me, like they did before I was born. Din will be arranged with another girl as soon as I'm gone. Everything will be alright.

The wetness that spilled over my eyes and down my face lasted hours, even though my mind kept telling itself that it was at peace.

It was in the dead of night, when I gathered a few of my belongings into a knapsack, throwing it over my shoulder before leaving out the tattered window of my private space.

I ventured to the canyon, with the moons lighting my way. The planet was never truly dark, due to the brightness and the number of shinning moons, all the color silver.

I set my knapsack down on the edge beside me. By the end of this, I would be at the bottom, waiting to be found the next day. I just hoped it wouldn't be anyone I knew. Of course, the number of people who ever came out here was only two. Me, and Din Djarin.

I hoped he wouldn't find me. I hoped it would be someone from another tribe that was flying over, and happened to spot something at the base of the cliffside.

I pulled my flask to my mouth, taking a large drink. A bit spilled onto my chin, and I wiped it off, feeling the breeze on my face. It was much colder now than earlier tonight. I wasn't sure if I should pull the blanket from my belongings and wrap it around myself, or skip the process of making myself comfortable and just get this over with.

I leaned over, looking straight at the ground, hundreds of feet below me. My heart started racing, and I got scared. Why shouldn't I be? I have every right to be absolutely terrified. I closed my eyes, trying to scoot myself over the edge inch by inch, seeing if I would just drop.

I nearly panicked when my bottom hit a crack in the ground and I thought I was going over. My breath hitched in my throat and I instantly pulled myself back.

"This isn't as easy as I thought it would be," I murmered, beginning to feel the emotional side of everything rise to the surface again. It didn't help that with the absolute silence that circled around me, I couldn't have any single thing to distract me.

I stood to my feet, wrapping my arms around myself to ease the goosebumps rising on my skin from the frigid air.

I stood right on the edge, lifting a foot over and leaning forward, but before I could fall, I again caught myself, the adrenaline working overtime in my system and beginning to heat me up.

That wasn't going to work either. If I could, I would put a blaster to my temple and pull the trigger, but then it wouldn't look like an accident.

I paced around back and forth a few times, trying to calm myself down, to stop the whimpering and to make my tears cease. It wasn't working. I just needed to get this over and done with. A new life, with endless possibilities was waiting for me on the other side. Freedom was on the other side.

I wiped my face, even though it didn't stop me from crying, but it helped me to see clearer. I backed up, into the cavern, all the way inside until my back hit the wall of the ex artillery carvern. This was it. A new beginning. Rebirth. New life. Freedom.

I ran as fast as I could toward the edge, my eyes closed. I could feel the wind blowing against me even harder with my speed, and I could tell the edge was drawing near. Every step I took, I felt as though it was my last one.

I finally felt my foot hit the edge, but then I never fell. Instead, I was tackled to the ground. Whoever landed on top of me was heavy enough to hold me down, because half of me was hanging off the edge of the cliff.

I didn't dare even open my eyes. This was a sign. Someone stopped me.

I clinged onto whoever it was, and knew almost instantly who was laid over me when I heard him groan.

I cried even harder, my head buried in his armor clad chest, and my arms around his neck and his torso.

He was holding me tightly, one hand cradled my head into his neck, and the other firmly gripped my waist. He rolled us both over and I swear I felt him shaking.

"What were you thinking?" He stressed, his grip on me tightening as if he was scared to let go. I was scared too. I didn't want him to let go.

"You have to talk to me..."

I heaved a deep breath, deep enough to steady my voice so my whimpering didn't interfere with my words.

"I want out. I need to get out," I cracked in the middle of saying so few words, but they conveyed the message I was trying to get through.

"I can get you out, I promise.... But please don't ever try that again," His voice was full of worry, and as I suspected, he was trembling in fear.

"I'm sorry..." I cried some more, realizing that what I had done was now the biggest mistake I ever made, even if I was saved.

"It's okay. You're okay. I've got you," He spoke to me, my voice quieting down as my sobbing came to a slow halt.

I lifted my face from where I had burrowed it into his neck, looking up at him. I didn't know what his expression was, but something told me it was fearful, and worrysome.

"I have to get out of here," I repeated again. The last day or so it became my mantra, and would leave my lips often, even just to myself. Mostly just to myself.

"You're going to. You're going with Merc... when are they leaving?" He asked, his arms still around me like mine were for him.

"At sunrise. They're gonna jump a delivery ship on the north tarmac," I explained, my voice was now hoarse and thick, due to not only all the crying I had done, but also the cold night air that had entered my lungs.

"Sunrise isn't for a few hours..." he let me know, and I nodded, knowing we shouldn't probably leave yet, for the walk to the north tarmac wasn't very long from here.

"Din, if I leave, my family is going to get the fire for my decision. I can't let that happen," I told him, my voice had become more firm, and I needed to convey the importance of how much this meant to me.

"I give you my word, that as long as I live, nothing will happen to your family," He swore, and I could just feel his eyes staring into mine. So much so that for the first time since he put that helmet on, I knew where his eyes were.

"I trust you. And I know that you'll always keep your word," I nodded, a small smile finally forming on my face.

Since it got fairly quiet, and we were still entangled together,  I scooted off of Din and opted instead to take the seat beside him.

"I should tell you some things before I go. I just don't want to leave anything unresolved," I admitted, and he stayed silent, waiting for me to continue.

"I know this might sound horrible, but I hated the idea of getting too close to you. It was like if I had formed an emotional bond with you, I wouldn't be able to leave anymore. And the last thing on my mind had been to stay. I've wanted freedom for a while now, I was just always too scared to say anything. And when my father told me that you and him had come to an agreement for arranging a marriage.... it's like it all became more real to me. My freedom would be taken in just days. The creed of mandalore is sacred, and it's truly an amazing thing... but it isn't for everyone."

He sat and took everything in. All the words that just spewed from my mouth like I had been holding them in for ages went against everything I had ever learned. Everything that had ever been put into my mind was the opposite of what I wanted.

"You're young. You want more than what the creed can offer you. I think you'll be able to find what you want wherever you're going," He said, I knew there was more, for he didn't even mention anything that I had said about not wanting to be close to him, but when he stayed silent, I knew he was finished, and that I still had more to say.

"Din, I wanted to tell you that if I had to be married, I wouldn't have minded it being you," I admitted. I would leave no stone unturned before I was to just pick up and leave forever... maybe not forever, maybe someday I would return to my family, to Din.

"I can't say I don't feel the same," He seemed to become stiff next to me, but I soon found the reason when he suddenly reached for my hand with his gloved one.

I took it proudly, intertwining our finhers together.

"You know, I was only an eight year old kid when you took the creed. I have so many memories of you yourself, but whenever I recall them... I can't see your face. I've completely forgotten what you look like," I laughed a bit, though it was quite a sad thing actually. I could not remember him in a way that wasn't covered in metal. I remembered that he was a boy once, and that he would play with all the younger children in the clan set next to his. He played with me and the kids I lived next to. He was a lively, energetic boy. Always doing something... sometimes causing mischievous acts. He was so different now. But the change wasn't bad. Since he'd taken the creed he has been the most noble, fearsome, and trustworthy member of his clan. Completely honorable in every sense of the word.

"I don't look like I used to. It wouldn't do you any good to remember anyways," He chuckled under his helmet, and it brought a smile to hear the melodic sound.

"Well, if I'd stayed long enough to marry you I would find out for myself," I leaned my head on his shoulder, feeling comfort by his presence. If I had made the absolute decision to leave this planet earlier, I could have let myself grow a relationship with him. Romantic or not, he was easy to talk to, and I trusted him. He was a friend to me, and I never imagined more, but now his presence was just something that put me at such ease.

"Do you think you'll ever come back?" He pondered, seeing as just the tiniest moonrays shown down into the canyon ahead.

"Someday. I'll comeback and repay you."

"For what?"

"Saving my life," I replied. My attempt to throw my own life away had been pushed away but I had to bring it up. I owed him my life.

"Anyone would have done the same if they had seen," He insisted, and I shook my head.

"How did you even know I was out here?" My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked for an explanation.

"I couldn't sleep, I took a walk through Ronion until I found myself here. I saw you across from the mesa on the south side... I saw you lift your foot over the edge, I knew what you were trying to do," He said, his grip on my hand got tighter almost instantly.

"Thank you. If you hadn't been there, I would be at the bottm of this canyon." I let so much seriousness onto my voice, and it didn't sound like me.

"Don't thank me yet... not until I get you on the tarmac,"

We sat in silence after that, just looking out over the horizon. When the slightest bit of light hit the edge of the planet, we stood to our feet, gathering my knapsack and begining the journey to the north delivery tarmac.

We were there in no time, and before I could even look for them, Merc and his crew were in sight. They were all sitting with their backs against some cargo imports, waiting for the transport to arrive.

"Well, well, well... look at what the shriek hawk dragged in," Shyloh said, gesturing to me and Din.

"Djarin, I didn't expect to see you here," Merc raised an eyebrow at the sight.

"I'm just here to make sure she gets onto the transport safely," He assured them. I looked out of the corner of my eye, and in the brighter horizon I was able to see a cargo ship coming into the landing area.

"Our rides here," I said, and they all jumped up. Since the ships were automatically run, and don't even require droids, it was often very easy to hop aboard and be carried to another destination. Of course, there were only a few who ever wanted to leave.

I myself hadn't ever left Mandalore, neither had I traveled much even on the planet. Only a few trips to visit the the markets with my father. I never even went into the city, for it was told that in the city lived Mandalorians who did not keep the creed. The tribes were convinced that they hadn't actually ever taken the oath, and just wore the armor for the sake of doing it.

The ship's doors opened, pulling me out of my thoughts, and a conveyer belt folded down to let the cargo units be carried out onto the tarmac for later pickup.

"Alright, it's time to head out," Gander said, slinging his knapsack over his shoulder and boarding the transport.

The rest followed after him, but I still had one thing left to do. 

Din looked at me, waiting for me to join the others, but I came close to him one last time.

"You promise my family will be taken care of?" I asked, to which he simply answered with a firm nod. However the look on my face gave him reason to believe that his answer wasn't good enough, so he spoke instead.

"I give you my word. If they are not taken care of, I will let you strike me dead where I stand."

That was good enough for me. He truly meant it. He was a man of his word.

I pulled his head toward mine, resting ny forehead against his in a traditional mandalorian kiss. I pulled back when I heard my name being called from the transport.

"Goodbye, Din Djarin," I told him.

He didn't respond, he just let me go, watching intently as I boarded the ship before the doors closed.

The cargo transports were always on schedule, so as soon as the doors closed, it began lifting into the air. I looked out through the transparent view finder on the side, watching him stand as we began moving out of sight.

"You gonna miss him?" Shyloh asked, his brows furrowing as if he were sorry for me.

"Yes, I suppose I will."

I lost sight of Din, and realized we were leaving the atmosphere most likely preparing for a jump to hyperspace.

"But I'll see him again."

.

.

Tags are open ig...

A/n: please don't get too caught up in the age gap y'all it's just for backstory purposes because this story is eventually going to follow canon events.... (also i know that this doesn't really portray Mandalore correctly, but let's pretend it does because i had this idea)

[phoenixyfriend]

Systems’ Scourge

I am no Jedi.

She says the words every time someone questions the sabers. She says it, day in, day out, and tells herself to believe it. She says it, and word spreads, because this way her actions don’t reflect on the Republic.

She was kicked out of the Order because she was framed for terrorism.

It’s all she does now, technically. She’s a terrorist, by some definition, even if her chosen targets are slavers and drugs lords.

Her actions must not reflect on the Republic.

“General.”

She turns away from the transparisteel, away from the blur of hyperspace, and into the arms of the man she trusts above all others.

“Almost there?” she asks.

“Another hour,” Rex confirms. He waits until she steps to join him, brushing their shoulders together as they walk through the ship, beskar to durasteel.

(Bo-Katan hadn’t necessarily liked her very much, but she’d had her own strange code of honor. She chose her payments, but she ensured compensation when and where she could. And so it went: beskar for the girl without a home who helped Mandalore, even as it almost killed her.)

(The boys... well. They haven’t been able to afford proper durasteel and beskar alloy armor for everyone yet, but they’re working on it.)

We are not Mando’ade.

“Kix got back to me,” he says. “We running low on bacta again.”

“Do we still have the funds from Zygerria?”

“More than.”

“Approved,” she says, and he laughs. She rolls her eyes. “You already handled it, didn’t you?”

“Of course, cyar’e.”

She doesn’t outrank him anymore. They are equals, in this and all things. He can approve anything she can. The only time she has authority is when they’re playing roles for the underworld.

The only time he has authority is when it comes to Kamino.

“What ate it up this time?” she asks instead.

“Had a few new arrivals,” he says. “Nobody you knew, mostly shinies. Fives is helping them adjust to being alive again.”

“Echo isn’t helping?”

“Migraines.”

“I see,” she says, and casts her eyes across the corridors. Strangely empty. “I’m assuming you’re leading me somewhere?”

“Jesse wants to give you a cultural debrief before we land.”

“We’ve been to Serenno,” she says, frowning heavily. “Dooku knows us. Does Jesse think he’s already fallen and we need to readjust? I didn’t think he was anywhere close last time we checked in.”

“He’s got visitors,” Rex says, grimacing. “From the Trade Federation.”

Oh, lovely. “He does realize the galaxy knows my face at this point, right? Isn’t he worried about the Federation getting word to Republic that the Count is hosting the terrorist they’ve spent two years fearing and hunting?”

Rex shrugs. “I think Jesse might be planning a disguise.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Great. Just love the smell of cosmetics.”

"Only a few hours,” he assures her.

“Yeah, yeah,” she sighs, and decides to switch the topic. “The shinies, all 501st?”

“Affirmative.”

“And still no other GAR ships on the comms?”

“None yet.” He’s as unhappy about it as she is. She doesn’t even after feel out along the bond. He’s still holding out hope for a Marshall Commander that didn’t live long enough to see Order 66 hit. She’s still hoping for almost any Jedi that remembers the war, instead of the pleasant strangers that call her Dark.

I am no Jedi, she tells them, even as their faces shade towards confusion at her white blades. She is not Fallen, and it shows in her kyber. They don’t know what to make of her.

“Republic might start building their own army soon,” she says instead. It’s an old refrain. They both know Kuat is building ships to match their precious Venator. The Survivor, she’d named it, unable to figure out which broken vessel had been given to her in this time she’d never lived. “We need allies, not just Dooku’s bankrolling. Has Fett--”

“No,” Rex says, short and grim. “Denal got close, we think, but he said he’s not going to talk to dar’manda that take orders from a Jedi.”

Lots wrong with that sentence.

“Didn’t get him to look anyone’s face?” she guesses.

“Not enough time,” Rex says. “Denal says it was a firefight. Couldn’t risk taking a helmet off.”

“And without the faces, nobody could get him to listen anything else,” she concludes. “You’d think he would have seen the wanted posters.”

“Think he’s of the opinion that if it walks like a Jedi, talks like a Jedi, carries a saber like a Jedi...”

She rolls her eyes. “So we’re back to square one, looking to hire on new soldiers that someone’s going to have to train, that we’ll have to convince Dooku to help pay for when we can’t appropriate funds from the Hutts, that probably won’t measure up to clone standards or have any sense of how to work with you, and will be security risks.”

“About sums it up, sir.”

She shoots him a look. “You’re making fun of me.”

He grins, easy as anything. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Sir.”

She bumps her fist into the metal on his upper arm. “Remind me why I married you?”

“Well, we were pretty kriffed up,” Rex fake-muses. “Pretty sure the trauma was a big part of it.”

“Of course.”

“And we can’t forget that time you started crying on me while we were making out.”

“No doubt.”

“And we’ve been friends for the better part of a decade now, so that’s going on the list.”

“I wouldn’t dream of not including our many years of shared horrors.”

“Or that Dooku kept asking when we were going to make things official.”

“I never should have told him I was part of his lineage,” she sighs, just as they reach the door to Jesse’s favorite Cultural Debrief room. There’s an old-school projector in there, and far more cosmetics and undercover costumes than the average person would expect. It’s a fun room.

Ahsoka turns and lifts up on her toes, just enough to press her lips to his. Rex tilts his head, presses back just a moment, and then pulls away. They grip each other’s forearms, and Ahsoka doesn’t shy away when he presses his forehead to hers.

“How much longer?” he asks.

It’s the same question, every time. She never has an answer.

She was raised to keep the peace. He was born to fight for it. Neither of them have ever truly known it.

She’s not sure they ever will.

“Jesse’s waiting,” she mutters, and pulls away. He matches her smile, small and tired, but meant only for the other. She turns to the door, takes a deep breath, and steps on through. “Okay, who are we preparing today, because I’m sure as hell not meeting Gunray as General Fulcrum.”

“We’re thinking Princess Ashla this time,” Jesse says, completely unruffled by the loud entrance. “Unless you want to play up the ‘Dooku’s adopted granddaughter’ thing. The Count might appreciate it.”

“Hard pass,” she says, dropping into the makeup chair. “Princess Ashla it is.”

I am no Jedi, and so I do what they cannot.