#title from a song by the Family Crest

[weirdsht]

What if Cale Henituse had someone special during his time as Kim Rok Soo? Although they were never officially a couple, it was clear to everyone that their relationship went beyond mere friendship. Slowly but surely, KRS grew more comfortable and at ease around this person until they were killed. Brutally (lmaaooo I'm sorryy HAHAHWHAHW). Later, they reunite in his life as Cale Henituse, but reader has changed significantly because, like KRS, they too have been transmigrated. Their life has been deeply affected and troubled by their own close relatives, unlike Cale, who, despite some hesitation from his family, at least had the comfort of a family that cares about his safety and well-being overall. (Dyk Roxanna from TWTPTFLOB? Basically her family. If you don't know, basically her family is torturous to have. I think normal ppl would die if they suddenly transmigrated as a part of Roxanna's family because they're the definition of insanity)

I'm sorry if this is too much, feel free to scroll past 🤧💌

Our Fragile Promise in Magnolia - Cale/Reader

notes: Yes the title is a bunch of Laufey song titles. Shameless plugin but my fics Close and Can I Really have similar concepts to this one

tags: female reader, novel spoilers (war), angst? not sure, very loud unspoken feelings

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are open and welcome

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist

_____ stares at a male figure’s back. She’s used to looking at it. At finding comfort in it. How can she not? His back always seems so big. So strong. As if it’s capable of shielding her from everything.

However, this time that back looks smaller than how she remembers it.

And _____ is the reason for that.

“_____ don’t you dare close your eyes, don’t you dare fall asleep on me”

“Wake up! Just why did I get cursed with such an airhead child…”

The woman in front of the girl daydreaming speaks exasperatedly, bringing her back to reality.

It reminds _____ of who she currently is. How she’s not on earth fighting monsters anymore. How she has been granted another life.

Another life, another suffering.

“Follow me, the meeting is starting.”

The woman, _____’s mother, looked behind her to see if her daughter was still following.

“If you utter one word that causes our family disgrace you know what will happen to you. Won’t you, my dear?”

_____, who’s currently 20 years old in this life, is both used to and tired of the sickeningly sweet smile on her mother’s face.

“Yes, mother.”

She internally laughs but says nothing outwardly. Just how scared is her mother from the announcement of war that she dared talk to her like that? 

It reminded her of when she was a child.

A time before she rose to power within that useless family of hers.

“Your name is _____?”

“Why? Do you have any problem with it?”

“No, it suits you.”

The woman was taken aback by the nonchalant compliment. The man in front of her has said it as if it didn’t mean much. No, for him it probably really didn’t mean anything. 

But it meant the world to _____.

It was the first time she had received a compliment. And for something as insignificant as the name she gave herself.

‘Thanks, I gave it to myself since no one was willing to name me’

Were the words she held back from saying, not wanting to ruin the moment.

_____ never would have thought that she would become best friends with that very same man.

Clang!

The young woman watched as the silver plaque hit the table. The noise it made snapped the young woman out of her daydream.

She looked at the silver plaque and saw the crest of the royal family on it.

It’s easy to understand what it means.

Cale Henituse, the one famous as the young master silver shield, is now officially the Roan Kingdom’s Northeast Commander.

Not that _____ had any issues with it. She has heard about the famous young master. He may be young but he has the qualifications. Plus who is she to question the crown’s decisions?

If the crown has decided that Cale as commander is what the kingdom needs to defend itself against the Indomitable Alliance then so must be it.

However, not once has _____ looked at the famous redhead. Hence why when he started speaking again the young noble took it as a chance to take a good look.

The first thing that caught her attention was his long red hair. It was the same shade as blood. As if he was a vampire that drank so much blood it turned his hair into one.

But it wasn’t a gruesome sight. Quite the opposite actually. _____ finds his hair to be very pretty. It reminds her of a beautiful flame that’s forever ignited. Always strong and never extinguishing despite the strong winds that come its way.

“Kim Rok Soo..?”

As soon as _____ saw the commander’s eyes her world stopped. She knows those eyes very well. Has stared at them countless times for her to not know.

It couldn’t be.

Maybe they just have the same eye colour.

Kim Rok Soo’s reddish brown eyes might be rare back in her old world but nothing is impossible in this new one.

So it can’t be.

However, she can’t deny it.

She can’t deny that the way he lands his gaze is the same as him. The sorrow that is buried deep within those copper-like eyes is the same.

The way he stared at her knowingly was the same.

But she still tries.

She tries her best to deny it.

To deny him.

Because it can’t be. That can’t be him. That can’t be her best friend slash love of her life.

It’s just not possible.

And if it was then she must avoid him as much as possible. 

For she has changed. And she is well aware of the fact that she has changed. She may have the same face and the same name, but she has become all too different.

She doesn’t want her love to see the new version of her.

 Two people sat on the ground. Their back leaning against the sofa behind them. It’s a rare day when the two of them have a day off so they have decided to spend it by reading novels together.

“If you try to say another spoiler I’m going to seal your mouth shut.”

“But you have to listen to this!”

The woman tries to argue while tapping on a page of the book she’s currently reading.

“I’ll find out about it when I read it.”

“But I want to talk about it now!”

Kim Rok Soo shook his head at her. As if he couldn’t believe this was the same fierce person fighting monsters on the battlefield.

“Then wait.”

_____ internally smiled at the memory. She feels that familiar warmth in her chest she hadn’t felt for so long. As she did, she thought that it was a good idea to avoid Cale Henituse. She’s not sure if they’re the same person. And if they were she doesn’t know if he remembers her.

But it’s better to be on the safe side.

After all, it’d be embarrassing to see such a lively person turn into a shell of what they used to be.

“Just how long do I have to put up with this?”

_____ mumbled to herself as she picked at her food.

“Did you say something dear?”

“Nothing mother.”

She reciprocated her mother’s smile. After years of socializing with this family, she has learned to smile and bear it all. Things will become more complicated if she tries to refute.

“Where’s the antidote? Mix it in my usual juice.”

_____ orders her maid after lunch. The maid bowed and followed her orders like clockwork.

After all, this wasn’t the first time the young lady had been poisoned by her own family.

They see her as both a threat and an asset.

They try to bring her down, make themself look superior. But at the same time, they know that they need her.

It’s comedic. Really.

“My lady a letter has arrived.”

_____’s trusted maid hands her a tray that contains a glass of juice and a letter.

“That seal… It looks like it’s from the Henituse family.”

The young lady waved her hand away and the maid went out of the room.

Badump. Badump.

Her heart beats wildly in her chest and it’s not just because of the poison she consumed.

It’s not uncommon to receive letters from the guardians of the Dark Forest. They are business partners after all.

However _____ couldn’t help but feel nervous after the recent events.

Quickly drinking her juice that contains the antidote in one go, the transmigrator pulls the courage to open the letter.

“You have a very peculiar way of writing. I think I’d be able to recognize it anywhere.”

_____ hovered over Kim Rok Soo as he wrote something on a piece of paper.

“I would say you’re exaggerating but knowing you two, I wouldn’t put it past you.”

Choi Jung Soo spoke up from the couch while eating some sort of junk food.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Rok Soo retaliates. His hands let go of the pencil in order to focus on his sworn brother.

“Nothing, nothing. I’m just saying. But hey, is that any way to speak to your hyung?”

“Again why are you the hyung? We were born on the same day”

“I was born first!”

True to what _____ said, she immediately recognized the handwriting on the letter. Its contents were concise, exactly how he likes to do things. 

“He did his homework.”

The letter just said that the commander wanted to have a private meeting with _____ in order to talk about the upcoming war. The young noble instantly understands that he must want to talk about her territory’s military force.

She may not have an official title. She isn’t even declared as an official heir. Yet insiders, those who have a wide information network, will know that _____ is the one in control of her territory. 

_____ doesn’t want to respond. But she has to. He wasn’t speaking as Cale Henituse or Kim Rok Soo. 

He was speaking as Roan Kingdom’s Northeast Commander.

He was standing on business.

For he probably knows that’s the only way _____ wouldn’t avoid him.

Kim Rok Soo holds on the bleeding body in his arms. 

Bleeding is an understatement.

The left side of her torso is gone. Eaten by the monster they are fighting.

“H ey, do you re member… remember our pro mise?”

A weak voice asks him. Kim Rok Soo nodded his head, too choked up to speak.

He does. Of course, he does. How can he forget?

He’ll record everything she says, no matter how trivial they are.

“Great… Th en  I guess– I guess I can rest in pe ace.”

Kim Rok Soo doesn’t want that. He doesn’t need that.

“Don’t close your eyes. Please hold on. For me, for us. Please _____”

He begs. It’s so uncharacteristically of him to beg, but if it does the trick then he’ll do it a million times over.

_____ weakly chuckled. She may be weak and dying but there’s still fire in her eyes. A fire that will never be extinguished even in the face of death.

… or so Cale thought.

The fire that he thought would never die down is barely there in her eyes.

But it was still there.

It may be small. Struggling. But it’s there.

Alive and fighting to be as bright as it was before.

“_____…”

“Our business is now done, Commander Cale Henituse. If you have further business in the future please feel free to send me a letter like before.”

“_____.“

The young lady’s voice was firm, but Cale’s voice was firmer. He has no plans of letting her run away again.

He wouldn’t be able to let her slip from his embrace once more.

“Isn’t that concept sweet though?”

The two best friends are talking. They just finished a novel and are now discussing its contents with each other.

“You’re just a romantic.”

“But think about it. Promising to find each other even in another universe. Being together in every dimension…”

_____ stopped talking, lost in thought as she reminisced about the novel. Kim Rok Soo took it as a chance to stare at her face.

He has seen many people. Has read many descriptions of beautiful people in books.

But in his opinion, nothing beats _____’s looks.

Kim Rok Soo might be biased. His willing to admit that much. But his opinion won’t change.

“Hey Rok Soo?”

“What do you want?”

He grumbled as he suddenly came face to face with his “best friend”. Her face was full of excitement as she thought of a new idea.

“Let’s promise each other that in our next life, we’ll find each other again. Then let’s spill all of our secrets when we do. Not leaving anything out.”

Her idea sounds childish. Would they even remember anything in their next life? Would they even have a next life? If they did would they recognize each other?

Those were the thoughts that raced through Kim Rok Soo.

However, he doesn’t say it.

Because it was a silent confession. The best one they can give each other in this ruined world.

A promise to spill all their secrets huh?

It doesn’t need saying. Those secrets were probably talking about their feelings.

“Sure, I promise. We’ll meet again in our next life and tell each other everything.”

“_____”

Cale called out for the third time. _____ has changed and Cale has an inkling as to what brought that change.

Nothing he can’t handle.

His planning to overthrow an empire. Dealing with a noble family is nothing.

He’ll make things right.

Set things straight.

“I never break my promises. You know that _____.”

Cale– no Kim Rok Soo will make sure to fulfil his promise.

[stinkywritin]

Late Night Devil

Lee Heeseung x male reader

Short synopsis: You catch a glimpse of the mysterious figure and your life’s forever changed…

…a nice way of saying gay vampire Heeseung brain rot

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, essentially PWP, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), top!Heeseung, bottom!male reader, oral (reader receiving), biting kink, praise kink, FILTH IM SORRY

Title from song Teeth by 5 Seconds of Summer

(a reupload a my favorite fic from my old blog)

You felt eyes on you ever since you arrived at the party.

Ever since you walked through the front doors with your mother and father, you felt as though you were being watched. No matter how many times you turned around and checked, there wasn’t anyone looking.

Not until you got to the banquet hall.

Everything was draped in luxurious red cloth, the high ceilings connected to a glass dome which allowed the guests a full view of the starry night sky. The tables adorned with the finest tablecloths and expensive tableware you felt nervous picking up for fear of breaking it, the near overwhelming amount of candlelight contrasting the darkness of the night. The dark wooden chairs complimented the equally as dark tables, the ballroom devoid of all color except for the hints of burgundy.

You continued to feel watched over even as you slid down onto one of the chairs next to your mother, your black coat draped over the back of the chair as you fiddled with the silver rings on your hand. One of the rings on your finger was etched with your family crest, handed down from your father once you became of adult age and joined your father’s oil business. Light organ notes danced in the air as the chatter amongst guests grew louder, more families arriving and filling up the tables.

“Sit up straight Y/N!” Your mother scorned you, her previous lecture of maintaining the family image still ringing in your ears. Her voice sounded strained through the tight corset, you were pretty sure her internal organs were all smushed together. A tight lipped smile stretched on her face as she looked around the banquet hall, many other families and members of higher society. Politicians, heirs to fortunes, royal family members, everyone who had more money than they knew what to do with.

Through your father’s business, your family was ranked fairly high on the social status, no where near the level of royalty but definitely a name with notoriety. You being the eldest son meant you’re the child who received the burden of continuing you family’s legacy, expected to not only further your business’s success but to also hand it down to another son. Either this or marry into an even richer family but you were never interested in any of the female suitors your father brought to you, denying any advance before retreating into your studies.

Your father suddenly beckoned you to his side across the hall, champagne glass in hand along with the most manufactured smile while speaking to other men with the same expressions. Your face was devoid of any emotion as you walked to join his side, the light tapping of your shoes on the banquet hall tile was drowned out by the band in the corner.

It’s not that you didn’t like your father, quite frankly you didn’t know enough about him in order to form a sold opinion about him. You’d seen his multimillion dollar company run so many small villages into the ground, clearing out acres of land for hopes of even drilling a single drop of oil. You heard the protests of the people in your country, pleading for companies to stop their mindless destruction of land but like all the other companies, your father didn’t listen. You had no intention of continuing the family business, hoping that maybe one of your siblings would take it over or that you could personally destroy it from the inside out. Plans to escape the damned family business flooded your mind as you stood next to your father, stone faced as he bragged to a distant colleague about whatever bullshit rich old men brag about.

It was during a conversation about coal plants that you saw him for the first time.

Your eyes mindlessly moved along the grand staircase, up along the marbled railing of the balcony, before spotting him alone with his hands folded along the railing. Eyes instantly meeting yours.

His skin was perfectly smoothed and sculpted, his appearance statuesque as he held strong eye contact with you. The darkness in his eyes matched the slant in his grin, a devious smirk was on his lips as his eyes raked you in, seemingly drawing you closer to him. The dark strands on his head complimented the dark velvet coat on his shoulders, the ruffles of his white shirt peaking forward elegantly.

“Y/N what do you think?” Your father’s voice interrupted your speechless encounter with the brunette, ripping your eyes from the beauty before you to bring you back to Earth. Dante himself wouldn’t be able to fully capture the beauty of the man you laid your eyes on, his descriptions of heaven coming second to the allure of the man who captured your attention.

“Sorry come again?” You replied haphazardly, already tuning out the conversation before you look back up to the gorgeous creature from before. Only in the mere seconds you looked away, he had vanished. Your bewildered eyes searched all over the balcony for him, refusing to believe he was a figment of your imagination.

“Sorry gentlemen please excuse me one moment” you politely moved away from the men, leaving behind a group of insulted men and your angry father. Your heart rate picked up as you began your search for the man from earlier, refusing to let him leave your life as quickly as he had entered.

Your footsteps echoed in the hallways of the palace, the tiled floor ways leading to multiple different rooms. You came across a portrait in a hallway far from the banquet hall, the frame picturing a family with an only child. A son whose eyes seemed to bore into your sole, the faces of the parents had been scratched out, the colors worn pale from age.

“Such a shame isn’t it?” A rich, melancholic voice startled you from your spot before the portrait, the handsome stranger from before suddenly appearing behind you. You hadn’t heard his footsteps, nor any other indication he was near you. “The colors were much more divine when the portrait was freshly made.”

“When was it painted?” You asked the stranger, his smile was playful as his eyes shifted from you to the painting.

His hands were folded behind his lower back as he spoke up, “I stopped counting after the third century.”

Well fuck. Even though everything about that response screamed ‘don’t come near me I’m dangerous,’ something about the way his eyes flatly observed the portrait before you pulled you in for more.

“Do you know the family?” You asked, your voice wavering as you continued to take in his appearance. The man before you seemed to have discarded his coat, the silk of his white shirt now on full display. There wasn’t a single wrinkle, every fold was pressed neatly on his body. If elegance was a person it truly would be him.

“Do you always stutter when asking questions?” His eyes quickly turned to make eye contact with you, a playful slant adorned his lips at his teasing. You couldn’t help the rush of heat to your face, hopefully he couldn’t see the blush on your face but judging by how his smile grew, it was evident he saw it.

“I guess only when I’m talking to pretty people” you shrugged, your eyes traveling away from his to study the portrait once again. The scratch marks on the faces of the parents tore through the canvas, making it obvious someone took a knife to the portrait. Although the colors were muted, you didn’t doubt that the robes and silks worn by the parents were more expensive than your father’s entire company. Then there was the little boy. He looked no more than 6 years of age, cheeks puffed and eyes full of childlike wonder, his face was the only one still remaining on the portrait.

“You can do better than juvenile pick up lines” the man scoffed, your eyes snapping back to him just in time to see him stifle a laugh. “This isn’t a school courtyard.”

You let out a chuckle, already cringing on your cheesy one liner. “I apologize for that sir but I don’t apologize for the pretty laugh it let me hear from you.” Now it was his turn to blush.

It was the chiming of the bells from the clock tower that erased the relaxed feeling between you two.

“Excuse me sir L/N but I’m afraid that’s my queue to leave.” As he started to turn on his heal away from you, a tight feeling within you snapped and you reached out to grab his wrist. Immediately you felt his ice cold skin on your hand, his face contorted in shock as he looked back to you. “What are you-“

“How did you know my last name?” You interrupt him, his furrowed brows softening on his face.

“Seeing as how I made the guest list I’m well acquainted with your family Y/N” his cheeky grin was back, his wrist still in your grasp. You relaxed your hold to let him escape but instead he took another step closer towards you.

“You’re part of the Lee family?” You questioned, even if you already knew the answer. The Lee family was one of the wealthiest royal families in the country, owning a luxurious castle away from all the surrounding villages. Your father said they were weird and antisocial but seeing as how they donated to many charities and political campaigns in the villages, they were immensely powerful. No one from the Lee family held any political or government position in centuries but that didn’t mean they weren’t pulling the strings from afar.

“And you still don’t seem to know my name?” His spunky grin broke you from your deep thoughts. You were face to face with a member of one of the most powerful families in the country, your father’s complaints of their wealth ringing in your ears.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I just didn’t think I’d ever meet someone from your family.” You honestly stated, barely noticing just how close he was to you. Your noses were mere inches apart, a strong enough breeze would’ve been able to bring you two together

“Heeseung.” His voice was slightly above a whisper before he continued, “my name is Lee Heeseung.”

Before your brain could talk you out of it, you took his hand in yours before bringing the back of his palm up to your mouth. You have a slight bow as you pressed a feather like kiss to his ice cold skin, you knew he still had that damn smirk on his face even if your eyes were closed. “It’s an honor to meet you Heeseung, I’m F/N L/N of the L/N family.”

“I’m aware” he snatched his hand back, although the grin was still plastered on his face. “This is my home after all.”

Before turning around to leave, he added “Meet me back here at midnight.” It wasn’t a question, more of an order, but you wouldn’t have refused either way.

“I’ll be waiting.” You gave one more curt bow, at which he scoffed and walked away from you. You noticed he wasn’t walking back in the direction of the banquet hall, in fact he was going in the opposite direction.

You turned back towards the portrait before you and as you looked at the boy in the painting again you felt a heavy weight in the pit of your chest. You could suddenly recognize the boy being Heeseung, a smiling young Heeseung. And suddenly the remark of the painting being more than three centuries old made that weight in your chest even heavier.

——

True to your word you returned to your unofficial meeting spot.

It was a pain in the ass trying to shake off your parent’s prying eyes and overwhelming amount of questions. You hid the fact that you had met — and flirted — with Lee Heeseung from both of your parents, you knew they would demand that you introduced them to him so you made up a lie about getting lost trying to find a bathroom. Seeing your parents fake smiles and having to endure a terrible sales pitch from your father was a special kind of hell that you didn’t want Heeseung to experience. Thankfully they believed your lie and didn’t press any further, leaving you alone for the rest of the evening.

It was a little before midnight, right when you were about to leave to see Heeseung again, that you spoke to your mother. You told her you would stay behind for a little while longer and that they should leave without you, that you’d call a cab later and meet them back at the house. She seemed hesitant to leave you, wanting to know why you would be staying behind but in the end she hesitantly left with your father.

“Just promise you’ll be back in the morning?” She pleaded, cradling your face in the palms of her hands. “Or at least call me in the morning to let me know you’re still alive?”

“Yes mother don’t worry I’ll let you know everything” you offered her a wide grin as she pulled back, the clicks of her heels hitting the tiled floor growing quieter. Once she had gotten in the car with your father, you turned and quickly walked back to the hallway from earlier that evening.

—-

The corridors were empty, only the sound of your hurried footsteps could be heard echoing off the walls. The painting was still just as magnificent as it was earlier in the evening, except as you footsteps took you close to it, you could feel that familiar weight in your chest again. The breaths picked up as you eyed the portrait again, this time feeling as though it was pulling you in.

“You came back” the same honey voice startled you, Heeseung suddenly appearing next to you. He grinned at your attempts to catch your breath, your eyes still wide from the scare he gave you.

“Of course” you huffed out, composing yourself by straightening your back to look him in the eye. “I had some questions.”

Heeseung quirked his head to the side while his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, the smile still plastered in his face. “Questions?” He paused, you gave a shaky nod in reply. “Alright well, ask away.”

“Is that you?” You pointed to the little boy in the portrait, his goddamn grin was making it ten times harder for you to focus on trying to make sense of him.

“Yes that’s me.” Heeseung flatly responded, his eyes traveling to look at the portrait. “I think that was my sixth birthday if I can recall correctly.”

“And you said this was made over three centuries ago correct?” Your voice was wavering, your whole body feeling heavy with anxiety and dread. “How old are you?”

“Y/N don’t you know it’s considered rude to ask someone their age when you first meet?” Heeseung’s met with yours again, seemingly able to bore holes into your brain. As if he could sense the panic coursing through your veins, he sighed before answering “I can’t remember how old I am or how many years are passing by, they all seem to blur together and over time I found it’s easier to not count my age anymore.”

Heeseung’s entire demeanor changed; he was no longer carrying himself with a high level of confidence, instead of the usual cockiness there was a melancholic tone to his voice as he longingly stared at the portrait.

He continued, “I was normal just like you, just human. Until at age 20 I was turned into this by my lover. He turned me into this so that we could be together for all of eternity but shortly after I turned he was killed by some hunters from a village up north. I was 20, a freshly turned vampire and completely estranged by my family for choosing a male lover.” He clutched something in his hand, turning it over before he took a seat on the tiled floor. His back was pressed against the dark walls as he beckoned you to sit next to him.

Once you were sat next to him, your hands making contact with the cold tiles of the floor as your back rested against the wall, you could see a small locket in his hands. The metal was scuffed and old, showing signs of years of use.

“This family,” Heeseung continued. “It’s made up of vampires from all over the country who are just like me. No family to turn to, no friends and partners to depend on, nothing. The Lee family took me in, no questions asked and I’ve been here since. And while the banquets and parties have been quite distracting, I still haven’t been able to find anyone to grow closer to, not since I died and became this.”

A fresh tear had escaped from Heeseung’s eye, it traveled down his cheek until hitting the floor, the man not bothering to wipe it away.

“I’m sorry Heeseung” you shakily whispered, hoping your voice was loud enough to be heard by the vampire next to you. The weight you had felt in your chest earlier — the intense panic over what creature Heeseung was and whether or not he was dangerous — had started dissipating at his words. Not entirely however, and it seemed Heeseung could still sense the remaining anxieties.

“Don’t apologize I haven’t even answered your question yet,” Heeseung wiped the remains of his tears off of his cheek while letting out a small — forced — chuckle. You were forced to go to banquets and business meetings and a bunch of other gatherings of snobby rich people, you were used to fake smiles and even faker laughs; however Heeseung’s was the most heartbreaking of all.

“As for age all I can say for sure is that I’ve been a vampire for a little over 400 years,” Heesung’s fingers messed with the locket in his hand as he spoke. “Anything else you’d like to ask Mr. L/N”

Heeseung had cocked his head to look at you, his eyes instantly letting yours. Sitting beside you was a supposed ‘creature of the undead’, something that up until recently you believed to be fake and the material for fiction. And yet the way Heeseung’s smile seemed to fill your being with bliss was anything but fiction, the way he had drawn you in even if you had only met that evening was a beautiful reality.

But that doesn’t mean you don’t still have questions.

“If you say you ran away to join this family how did you get that painting?” The teasing in your tone evoked a surprised laugh from Heeseung, the atmosphere surrounding you two had lightened, no longer full of worry.

“I’ve been alive longer than your great grandparents don’t question how I get stuff brat” Heeseung playfully pinched your shoulder, sending you two into a lighthearted scuffle that ended with Heeseung’s thighs straddling your lower torso.

“Ok I yield!” You huffed out between fits of laughter. As your chest rose and fell from your attempts to catch your breath, you could suddenly feel how close Heesung was. His hands held your wrists to the floor, his upper body draped over yours. “Okay one last question.”

“Ugh enough with the questions!” Heeseung chuckled out. After seeing the pleading look in your eyes he nodded his head, telling you it was okay to ask what was on your mind.

“Why did you ask me to come back here at midnight?” You asked, the underlying tone of your question being ‘are you going to kill me because I would please like to know in advance’.

“Is my interest in you not obvious enough?” Heeseung softly replied, grin widening when he sees the blush rise to your face. The hands that were on your wrists were now interlocking with yours, his hands delicately squeezing yours as he rested his forehead atop yours. “And here I was thinking you were also interested.”

“I am!” You helped out, causing a fit of giggles to erupt from Heeseung at your eagerness.

Heeseung’s hands were still interlocked with yours as he calmed down, his face still so close to yours. The way his eyes were sparkling with joy made the weight dissipate completely. Heeseung’s faced leaned impossibly closer to yours, his lips mere centimeters away from yours. “You’re so gorgeous the second I saw you I knew I had to talk to you. I knew I would miss the rest of the banquet because I had some business to take care of with another town’s mayor. Corrupt politicians and what not, such a pain to clean blood stains on carpets by the way.” Heeseung rolled his eyes at his comment, you could feel your heart rate pick up at the way his eyes flicked between your eyes and your lips.

“But I knew I had to see you again which is why I asked you to meet me here.” You felt your dick twitch at his words, the smirk playing on his lips was evidence he felt it too.

He started to slowly — so achingly slowly — roll his hips over your bulge. “The entire job I pleaded with the universe to let me see you again, all I could think about was how gorgeous you are Y/N.”

“Heeseung” you panted out, the fabric around your cock getting tighter. “Please kiss me.”

“Absolutely my love” Heeseung’s lips slotted perfectly with yours, your body heat felt as though it rose an extra 30 degrees. The way his lips fit with yours felt like an explosion of pure bliss, immediately opening your mouth to let his tongue in. The way Heeseung kissed you as if he was planning on devouring you made your head spin.

It could’ve been 30 seconds or 3 years but the kiss felt of pure heaven. No amount of time would ever be enough to fully satisfy the need you felt for each other, you thought this as Heeseung’s hip rolls began getting faster. After a particularly loud moan escaped your lips, Heeseung murmured into your ear, “Let me take you to bed my beauty.”

You eagerly nodded as he lifted you both up on your feet, leading you to his bedroom door while having his hand interlaced with yours. You two couldn’t help the giggles or the chaste kisses while you ran to his room.

—-

“Lie on your back for me sweetheart” Heeseung’s voice has seemed to drop a few octaves, sounding huskier as he pushed you back onto his silk sheets and started undoing the buttons on his shirt.

You quickly undid the laces of your boots, chucking them across the room before fumbling with the buttons on your shirt. You huffed in annoyance as you had difficulty getting your shirt off, Heeseung — who was now shirtless — took notice of your frustration and let out a low chuckle. His hands clasped yours as he placed them on you, slowly moving your hands down onto the bed before eagerly grabbing the collar of your blouse and tearing the fabric open. You gasped at the sound of the fabric ripping but quickly began to let out a deep groan as Heeseung began placing soft kisses down your chest. His lips were ice cold, making goosebumps rise all over your body from the drastic shift in temperature.

“There’s no time for slowly unbuttoning clothing” Heesung whispered into the skin on your sternum. His eyes switched back up to meet yours, the look of pure lust painting his eyes, “I want you now.”

“Then take me.” You gasped as Heeseung pushed your upper body down onto his bed, grabbing your hips and quickly pulling down your trousers and underwear, leaving you bare under him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him close to you to bring him into another heated kiss. You felt the fabric of his pants on your cock as he began to grind his clothed bulge onto yours. The friction causing you to bite at his lower lip, your fingernails scratching onto the skin on his shoulders. One of his hands moved to graze over your bulge, the cold skin causing a shiver to run up your spine.

Heeseung continued to kiss and bite at the skin on your jawline as he wrapped a hand around your cock, giving it a harsh but arousing tug. “Knew you would sound heavenly darling” Heeseung said into your ear, the strokes of his hand becoming more even. “Knew it the second I laid my eyes on you.”

“Heeseung-“ you were cut off by your own whine as Heesung sharply removed his hand to slap your thigh.

“That’s hyung to you brat” Heeseung gave your thigh another harsh smack before bringing two fingers up to your lips. The pads of his icy fingertips grazing along your lower lip so slightly you could barely feel it. “Now open up.”

You opened your mouth to let his fingers dance along your tongue, wrapping your lips around his fingers and sighing. Heeseung’s eyes were fixated on the sight of you sucking on his fingers, his cock growing harder. He pulled his fingers out from your mouth before sliding them over your tight hole, inserting one finger in as you gasped in surprise. His fingers were still so, so cold, causing you to shiver again.

He slowly worked his finger in and out of your hole, teasing his second one before pushing them both in and stretching you open. As his fingers worked to stretch you open, Heeseung licked a stripe from your thigh to the base of your cock. You let out a loud yelp as he licked up the length of your cock, your hands flying to yank at the dark locks on his head. “Oh hyung that feels so good” you moaned out, your eyes squeezing shut from the overwhelming waves of pleasure that were washing over your body.

His fingers quickened their pace as Heeseung’s dark eyes looked up at you, he whispered with the head of your cock pressed against his bottom lip, “cum in my mouth gorgeous.” Heeseung’s mouth took you in, warmth engulfing your entire body as you cried out in pleasure. You could feel the pleasure overcoming you, making your brain foggy as all your senses were being overwhelmed.

All of a sudden the coil in you snapped, you came down his throat as he eagerly swallowed every drop you let out. Even as you came down from the intense feeling, his fingers were still working you open — albeit at a slower pace. When his fingers grazed your prostate you shivered while your thighs began to shake, throwing Heeseung a confused gaze.

“You didn’t think we were done did you?” His smirk causing your thoughts to muddle, he abruptly removed his fingers before smacking your thigh again. “Sit up now darling I haven’t gotten my fix yet.”

He laid back against the dark wood of his bedpost, a pillow separating his lower back from the wood. He removed his pants and underwear before turning to you and patting his thigh, beckoning you over. You let out a small chuckle, your post orgasm brain somehow finding the cheesiness of it all a little amusing.

Heeseung tilted his head in confusion as you crawled over, placing his hands on your hips before saying, “why are you laughing, darling?” He pulled you down to sit on his lower torso, his cock nestled between your cheeks which caused the blush on your face to deepen in slight embarrassment.

“You’re so cute” you placed an innocent peck on his lips, Heeseung gave you what felt like a hundred more as a response. He held you close as the grin on his face grew larger, both of your giggles breaking the kisses. As you both calmed down from your giggling fit, the eye contact you held began intensifying. Heeseung’s eyes seemed to hold all the stars in the night sky with the way they sparkled up at you, the light blush on his face deepening as you held him close.

His hand ran through the hair on the nape of your neck, his wide eyes and large grin seemed to distract you from the fact that you were both completely bare. His finger started to drag from the bottom of your ear down the slope of your neck before whispering, “Can I bite you darling?”

You could feel your soft length grow interested at his question, your eyes widened as they filled with curiosity. “You want to turn me?” Your question made the vampire look up at you, an unreadable look in his eyes.

“I don’t have to turn you.” Heeseung started, his cold hands tightening their grip on your skin. “I can feed from you and as long as I don’t take too much you’ll still be alive and, well, human.”

When the word ‘feeding’ fell from the man’s lips, you suddenly remembered the man — the vampire — below you could very easily kill you in two ways; by either draining all the blood from your body or turning you into an undead creature for the rest of eternity.

“I’ve been alive a long time Y/N” Heeseung’s voice bringing you back to the present. He continued, “I can control my appetite, I will not take more than you can handle and I will stop if you tell me to. You have my word darling.”

Instead of giving him a verbal response, you tilt your head to the side to give him full access to your neck and collarbones and nodded. Heeseung’s hands roughly pulled your hips up, aligning his length with your entrance before pulling you back down to sit on his lap. Your body shivered at the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins, the head of Heeseung’s cock was pressing against your g spot, leaving you full.

As you tried moving your hips, Heeseung would stop your movements to slam you back down onto his lap. His hands moved from your hips further down to hold your ass, his tongue licking over a spot on the crook of your neck. Your neglected length had been interested even after already orgasming once, however all pleasure before this failed in comparison to the feeling of Heeseung’s fangs piercing into your skin. His hips moved achingly slowly as he sunk his teeth into your neck, your grip on him tightening. Even if you had only met Heeseung that night you already knew he had ruined sex with anyone else in the future, it would be only him for the rest of your existence.

Heeseung’s hips kept a slow pace, his soft groan was muffled while he fed from your neck. The intense pleasure coming from Heeseung’s movements juxtaposed the sharp pain on your neck, your post orgasm brain becoming even muddier. You felt Heeseung remove his fangs from your neck, placing kisses on the marks left behind while his hips picked up a faster pace. The sounds of your bodies moving together echoed throughout the room, your pants being interrupted by Heeseung’s voice in your ear giving you encouragements.

“There you go, that’s my good boy.”

“Knew I had to have you the second I laid my eyes on you.”

“Darling you tasted so good, did so well for me.”

“Be as loud as you can for me Y/N, don’t hold back.”

The familiar sensation from earlier came back, this time magnified by ten. You could feel your muscles tightening as you reached your climax, your grip on Heeseung’s shoulders becoming more tense.

“Hyung I’m close,” you whined out. His thrusts were precise and fast, aiming and nailing your g spot head on every time.

“How cute,” Heeseung’s low voice went straight to your hard cock, his hand wrapping around your length and stroking in tandem with his hips. He continued, “My good boy wants to cum for me a second time. Make a mess for me sweet boy, I’m right there with you.”

You reached a moment of euphoria, your entire body tightening up before you came all over Heeseung’s hand. You felt Heeseung reach his high because his thrusts stilled, his grip on your body tightened before he went slack. Your body slumped into his as you now began trying to catch your breath. You heard Heeseung let out a giggle as he held up your tired body.

“Nope you’re not getting off that easy.” Heeseung quickly flipped you onto your back below him, the speed shaking you awake. His body was bent over yours, he brought one of his hands up to your mouth and put his palm to your lips. It was the palm that was covered in your release, “lick it off baby, you’re helping me clean up.”

You quickly licked your release off his hand, holding eye contact with him the entire time so you could see his proud smirk. His lips graced yours once you finished, your entire body slugging back into the sheets below you. “I’ll be right back baby.”

Your eyelids felt heavy while you watched him get off his bed, making his way across the room while nude which gave you a shameless view of his body.

He returned momentarily with some bandaids, along with a glass of water. “Sit up for me darling,” he said as he sat down next to you, putting the glass of water into your hands once you were up right. You lazily drank from the cup as Heeseung applied the bandaids to the wounds on your neck. “It’s not too bad but better safe than sorry.”

It seemed the vampire’s entire demeanor had changed, his touches soft on your skin as he took your now empty cup and placed it elsewhere. He laid back next to you, pulling the covers over your bodies before pulling you closer to him. “How do you have so much energy?” You grumbled, looking up at the vampire to see his bright smile.

“I don’t get tired,” Heeseung’s hand carded through your hair and scratched your scalp as he started talking, making it very difficult to stay awake. He continued, “It’s that vampire stamina, I don’t need sleep or rest. I don’t eat food either, well besides blood but it doesn’t have to be human. I physically can sleep, I just don’t need it to function so it’s basically just a nap.”

“Does that mean you can go another round?” Your hand had been lazily tracing patterns onto the vampire’s cold skin, slowly moving down his torso. Your body was still sluggish from your two orgasms but seeing the devious glint in Heeseung’s eyes was lighting a flame to your body.

“I don’t think you can keep up with me baby” Heeseung roughly pulled the (H/C) strands on the back of your head, pulling you up to make direct eye contact with him. “But if you insist.”

His teeth grazed your bottom lip, the feeling of his fangs eliciting a high pitched whine from the back of your throat; you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew.

Authors Note: Hey it’s V sorry about deleting my old blog but I’ll bring back a majority of my old fics. If you enjoyed, thank you very much !!! These are v fun to make and help me take my mind off real life stuff lmao. That’s it for now, brb folks -V

[revelisms]

It was never the performance itself that drew him in.

He'd aways been more moth than songbird; a winged thing that gravitated to light and life, to the beauty of souls reaching across the realm to become one with Those below.

He was the first, though, and so had laid his precedents: a patchwork legacy few could ignore;

That there is always a sleeve of myrrh hidden between the sticks of sandalwood and frankincense; the ashen coolness of cigarette smoke in their storerooms.

That there is greenery in the chapel windows and fresh-cut gardenias in the welcome hall, and songs of Olde sung lower than they were written, because the depth of such resonance was one he preferred.

That his brothers (the second, the third) and half-brother (the fourth) stand in off-kiltered lines, often, as though waiting for the loping strides of his pointed boots and velvet-crested shoulders.

That their congregation's siblings know his family's appointed title of Nonna more than the origin of his own name.

That Papa Emeritus the Second shuffled strangely when taking the pulpit, as though trying to fit into a misfitten pair of clothes—uncomfortable, now, after so many years spent in his brother's shadow.

That Papa Emeritus the Third often nosed into his office with coffee in hand, or chocolate-kissed biscotti, or tears hidden behind a painted smirk.

That Papa Emeritus the Fourth spoke of him kindly—of all of them kindly—no matter how they may have treated him, how they may have scorned him, their worldly forms now memorialized in stone.

Primo, in his living days, hadn't cared to worry over it.

He'd stepped down from a lifetime of rituals and tours with a joint behind his ear and a plait weaved through his silvered hair, his gnarled hands fitted with rings fit for a goddess—and he'd smiled, wry and wrinkled, lashlines creasing at the corners.

"You don't have to call me that, you know," he'd chided, when siblings bumbled over the formalities of Monsignor and Your Esteemed Grace and all else the Church had pompously chosen to title him with.

"You know what the little ones called me, mh?" he'd whisper on, winking a moon-white eye. "Rude shits. Peh! They could make the dictionary blush, my dear." And he'd lean closer, shoulder-to-shoulder, his words rumbled and silken. "Don't you worry about those other things. Just call me what you want, heh?"

So they did.

He treasured the ones who spoke his language of flowers; saw similar beauties in leaf-green eyes and petal-pink cheeks, in hair lovely as daffodils and soft as roses.

His brothers never shared the same admiration. But, then again—they did, in their own ways.

Secondo, in his nostalgia for the scent of gardenias.

Terzo, in his scuffed-heeled silence in a greenhouse sunlit but empty.

Copia, in the jewels sewn through his silks and the velvet gleaning off his suits.

Maybe from below, Primo had always kept his eye on them, with his laughter that hissed like snakes. Maybe it's where he'd always been meant to be: one again with the Aether below. A living giant, blossomed and brilliant and beautiful.

"He, eh...would have liked this, right?" Copia mumbles, wrist-deep in fresh soil, planting bulbs of bluebells in the cloister flowerbeds.

The question is meant for Sister Aris, kneeled and smiling beside him.

But in the corner of his eye, he sees a haze of shadow—a whisper of nothingness. The Bridge beyond, that he has always seen since his oath-taking; has always been.

It feels like Terzo, at first. Eyes piercing, and brow pinched, a stiffness in lips unpainted.

A soul that felt wild to him.

Wild, harsh, endless, like a cliffside gale swept over one's body. A viper-tongued beast with a fox's grin, and cleverness to match.

But the feeling warms, gradually. Not sunset-pink, the taste of incense—but violet, indigo, earthen.

A touch of soundless heels on damp earth.

"You don't have to ask, little one," Primo's voice utters over him, gentle as a prayer. And he smiles, like he'd always done. Wry, and wrinkled, and wondrous. "Of course I do." His bony hand, even if only in spirit, settles a cool touch on his shoulder. "Of course I do."

But that hand isn't there, not really. He knows it.

Just a moth-winged thing gravitated to the light.

What they all had always been.

Secondo, the pyre. Terzo, the star. Copia, the unearthed glow of Hell itself.

And Primo—

Primo had been the moonlight shining down on them. A guiding path through the night.

The hand on his shoulder pats him, softly, before it slides away.

"He would have," Sister Aris answers him.

Copia swallows, blinks, twitches a smile.

"I know," he whispers. Before him, bluebells gleam. "I know."

primo / on legacies

[daisyswift3]

Cardiac Arrest, CPR, and the Reticent Volcano 🌋🎁

So yesterday I made a very interesting discovery while watching the TTPD (track) lyric vid that led to me having several epiphanies at once. If you watch the vid, you'll notice that for the most part the lyrics are in all caps save for a few lines. Of these lines, one in particular, “like a tattooed Golden Retriever,” caught my attention bc it has 2 capital letters--G and R--that you wouldn't have been able to see if the line was in all caps like the ones just before it. What makes it more interesting is that golden retriever is not a proper noun like a name or title so it shouldn't be capitalized according to English grammar rules.

This led me to search for the TTPD album booklet scans to see if this was also capitalized in the booklet and to see what other words were capitalized. Then after looking at the booklet it hit me--CPR(G)!!! Charlie Puth Retriever Golden. Everyone agreed these lyrics sounded a little odd compared to the rest of her lyrics and the shout out to Charlie Puth seemed kind of random. But now it makes complete sense why she wrote those lyrics. She was trying to draw attention to the capital letters CPR(G) that are repeated throughout the album. In this post I explained that Taylor mentions CPR in So Long, London bc they're all related to each other, they're a family. C=Cassandra=Taylor; P=Peter=her 2nd kid; R=Robin=her 1st kid; G=Gold/Golden=Karlie. If you look at the TTPD tracklist, Cassandra, Peter, and Robin are in the same order as CPR.

Taylor wanted to acknowledge her family in some way on this album and so she represented them w these 4 letters which are likely a stand-in for the Swift-Kloss family crest since I don't believe that showed up on this album. This is the key to deciphering several of the anon messages and understanding why some things are lowercase while other things are capitalized. For example, all of the volcano 🌋anon messages and the last 2 messages from (PR)esent anon 🎁 are lowercase with the exception of the words "Gold" and "Goodbye." This connects these messages to TTPD (track). "Gold" is highlighted like "volcano" to indicate that Miss Gold Rush is going to be a part of the atomic bomb Taylor is getting ready to drop. And the "Goodbye" being capitalized indicates that Karlie is indeed the "neighbor" in this message and in Fortnight as well as "the woman who sits by the window" in Peter that turns out the light/lamp. She is the one who keeps a lit jack-o-lantern 🎃 on the front porch while awaiting Taylor's return home from exile. These things single-handedly prove that 🌋 and present 🎁 anon are indeed legit bc how would a troll have been able to predict these things when The Anthology tracks were surprise dropped at 2am and weren't revealed w the standard edition tracks on Feb 5, and why would a troll even bother w such subtle details?? Plus no lyrics had leaked yet at the time these messages were sent so the only logical answer is that they must've either been sent by Taylor or someone close to her.

Side note: When I first wrote that post analyzing the present 🎁 anon messages, I had thought that the song Robin, and maybe Peter as well, was the gift/present to us kaylors that present 🎁 anon told us to look out for since P's and R's are repeated in the messages. However, I have since figured out that actually the poetry book For now, she slumbers was likely the gift since present 🎁 anon's messages mention the title of the book "for now, she slumbers" and "reticent volcano" which is the author's name as an anagram (see this post). Plus the March 4 message directly quotes the first poem in For now, she slumbers called "Two" ✌️ (If you want to read all the poems in order see this post). I explain in this post that the reason why this poem is the first one in the book is bc it's the key to understanding all the ones that follow and to understanding TTPD. The 2 ✌️ is probably the most important motif in TTPD bc it symbolizes the 2 different versions of Taylor and 2 opposing narratives abt her life that exist. Taylor Swift the brand vs Taylor Swift the person; the boy-crazy maneater that only writes songs abt her ex-boyfriends vs the tortured closeted queer poet that is forced to hide her truth behind metaphors and red herrings. Going back to the CPR of it all, I still believe my initial analysis of the present 🎁 anon messages was correct for the most part since the "reticent volcano" is likely a tell-all memoir that will explain the whole messy story and how and why she kept her family (CPRG) a secret. The purpose of the 🎁 and 🌋 anon messages was to guide us to both the poetry book and to CPR(G) which both foreshadow what her memoir--that she's hinted at w The Manuscript and The Story of Us--is going to be abt.

Now continuing on w the theory, as I mentioned previously, we have Cassandra=Taylor, Peter=her 2nd kid, and Robin=her 1st kid. And if you look at the pg in the booklet w The Manuscript, you'll see that there is a capital G in "Good Samaritan" which completes the CPRG set and is also the only capital G that shows up in this song.

And to tie it all together, if you look at the summary poem/epilogue at the very end, Taylor mentions cardiac arrest. This happens when someone's heart suddenly stops functioning and can be reversed by CPR! "I stopped CPR after all it's no use, the spirit was gone we would never come to." And this connects to You're Losing Me (From the Vault) which is abt the fans not seeing the real her or paying attention to her repeated queer signaling -> "I can't find a pulse, my heart won't start anymore for you, 'cause you're losing me." Taylor has given up trying to get her fans to listen to her (CPR) and has accepted that she may lose a lot of them when she reveals everything (CPRG). She is warning them that they are abt to lose the Taylor that they know, the old Taylor, bc she is going to have to kill her public persona and brand in order to be reborn as the new version of herself and move onto the next chapter of her life.

And to add even more evidence to this theory, CPR is often performed on drowning victims, and where does drowning show up in TTPD? Oh it shows up in The Bolter which just so happens to be sandwiched in between Cassandra, Peter, and Robin! -> "By all accounts, she almost drowned when she was 6 in frigid water...And she liked the way it tastes, taming a bear, making him care, watching him jump then pulling him under...as she was leaving, it felt like breathing/freedom" // "When I was drowning that's when I could finally breathe." Drowning also shows up in Guilty as Sin which I've determined probably represents the acceptance stage of grief so the drowning metaphor checks out (see this post) -> "Drowning in the Blue Nile, he sent me 'Downtown Lights.'" (Also check out this amazing video which explains the Blue Nile and religious connections). This connects to the 8th 🎃 message where Taylor chooses to jump into shark infested waters and sacrifice her image and brand so that her lover doesn't have to. So putting all these pieces together, this means that by giving up on trying to revive her relationship w her fans or to maintain her image (CPR) and by putting her family and her happiness first (CPRG), Taylor will finally be able to be truly free. She is going to let Taylor Swift the brand drown so that she can finally breathe. This connects to The Black Dog where she compares the red herrings/bearding/lavender haze/smokescreen to an old habit like smoking that she's trying to quit -> "6 weeks of breathing clean air, I still miss the smoke."

Now w all this context in mind, it makes more sense why Taylor has been emphasizing capital and lowercase letters and the number 4 recently. The hidden word hunt on Apple Music, thanK you aIMee, imgonnagetyouback, her retweets from 4/21/23-4/24/23 which happened in groups of 4, putting 4 letter words in all caps, etc. And now it's clear that "I keep these longings locked in lowercase inside a vault" is most likely referring to her explosive tell-all memoir, the reticent volcano, she's going to publish since 🌋 anon's messages were all in lowercase. "Restful, reticent, restraint" = locked inside a vault. Rep tv and the folklore and evermore vault tracks may also be included in this since these albums are in lowercase as well.

In conclusion, I think it is safe to say now that all of these anons are probably legit. In my opinion, all of these connections provide concrete evidence that these anons do foreshadow things and have ties to Taylor.

[papurgaatika]

Reason Comes on the Common Tongue of Your Loving Me

Pairing: Din Djarin x F! Reader

Minors DNI with my work please !!

A/N: Happy happy mando Monday!!! this has been a long time coming, I started this at the end of March and then got swamped with family and finals and I JUST got some time off to relax thankfully. thank you my loves @joelsdagger and @carlynkurin for beta testing, your screams in the comments continue to feed my delusions. Din Djarin you are my sweet angel baby ilysm. And yes the title is ONCE AGAIN from a hozier song, I didn’t actually mean for it to happen this time but it just felt right. Thank you for reading and i love yall <3

Tags: brat taming, overstimulation, edging, oral (m! receiving), dom reader, dry humping, mild degradation, praise, cumplay, spit kink, d/s dynamics, use of pet names (baby, sweet/pretty boy, sun and moon), Din Djarin loves tummy and thighs (canon, i said so), fluff, a few slaps, no use of Y/N Word count: 2.5k

Summary: A week away from each other leads your sweet boy to act out, forcing you to remind him of the rules.

It had been a long week for both you and Din. He had been out chasing a bounty for about two days longer than either of you had expected, leaving you both pent up and in dire need of each other. He had finally made it back to the crest, covered in dirt, blood, and other substances you weren’t sure you wanted to ask about. You roll over in the bunk to watch him strip his armor off and shoot him a lazy smile. He presses a soft kiss to your head before making his way into the fresher to wash off all the grime that undoubtedly clung to his skin. You hum contentedly and roll back over, still half asleep, but throw the blankets off of your body knowing full well that Din was going to warm the bed up like a furnace and you weren’t going to deal with twice the heat. 

     You were half asleep by the time he walked out of the fresher, and felt him slide up behind you, shifting so that your thighs were pressed up against his. And maker did he love your thighs, especially when he could see the plush of your skin when you wore one of his old shirts. He loved how strong they were, how he could see the muscles while you worked on the crest, how they felt around him when you sat on his face, how soft they were in moments just like these. You giggle lightly when his fingers brush up against a ticklish spot and roll over to face him, pressing a kiss just over the pulse point on his neck. Din tucks his chin over your head and lets his fingers dance over the skin of your waist, moving down to your tummy and just holding you, admiring how lucky he was to be with someone who made him feel this safe. 

     “Missed you, my Moon,” you mumble into his neck, tucking one of your legs over his, biting back a sleepy grin when you can feel his length pressing into you. “You miss me too sweet boy?” You hear him let out a small whimper, nodding when he presses into your thighs again, his cock straining against his pants. “‘S’okay, baby. Go ahead. Want you to feel good for me.” You can barely hear Din mumble out a soft thank you, his voice between a sigh and a moan, before letting himself rut against you. 

     Seeing Din like this was truly exhilarating for you. It didn’t matter how long the two of you had been together, or how many times you saw him like this, there was something special about seeing the difference between him as The Mandalorian and seeing him as Your Din. When you two were in public, under the prying eyes and the weight of him in the armor, his restraint was unmatched. Controlled and reserved, never doing as much as to ask for something he needed, simply taking it. But when it was the two of you, he was truly all yours. Pliant and complacent to the things you ask of him. If you say stop, he stops. If you tell him to keep going, he keeps going. Your good boy. 

    One of your hands makes its way up to stroke his curls, unruly and damp from his shower, and much longer than he likes to keep it; you need to remind him to let you cut it again. Your nails rake against his scalp and you can hear his breaths starting to come out in soft needy pants. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he grinds against you. He was your good boy, you loved him, but you were also a little mean, whispering that he needs to stop softly into his ear. “Din, enough.” Your voice was growing sterner, not usually having to repeat yourself to him. But there you were, repeating your instructions to your sweet darling boy, who was so close to cumming he could barely comprehend the words leaving your lips. His fingers tighten around your hips, and his lips part open, a broken moan falling from between them as he cums against your thighs. 

    You pull your lips away from his ear and grab his jaw, squeezing and tilting it so that his gaze meets yours. He blinks in an attempt to focus on you, small beads of sweat rolling down his forehead, breathing shaky, blissed out on his orgasm. You raise an eyebrow at him, lips pressed into a thin line, waiting, more patiently than you should, for him to either explain himself or apologize. “Nuh uh, none of that. Look at me.” He refuses to meet your eyes, opting to nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck and leave open-mouthed kisses instead of saying anything. “Use your words. What’s the rule, I know that you know what it is.” You twist out of his grasp to sit on top of his hips, a whine leaving his lips when he feels the pressure of your body over his. 

Din’s eyes finally met yours, big brown puppy dog eyes that were almost warm and desperate enough to allow him off the hook. Almost. 

    “‘M’not supposed to cum until you tell me to..” You can see his lips tremble softly, waiting for your response ever so patiently. You shift slightly so that your weight is pressed against his dick, still sensitive and softening inside his pants. 

    You tsk at him lightly and let your eyes rake over his body. He truly was beautiful. All tanned skin, with scars he lets you kiss and muscles you get to massage. All yours. ��You know the rules so well but can never seem to follow them, baby..” You let out an exaggerated sigh and shake your head at him. “It’s almost pathetic how needy you get. Can't even wait to let me touch you properly.” You push yourself off of his lap and move to one side of him, shooting him a look when he tries to grab you, before sliding your hands to the waistband of his pants and pulling them off. “Oh baby,” you croon,  “You made such a mess of yourself.” You swipe your fingers across the cum in his underwear and raise them to his lips. “Open.” Din complies immediately, his lips parting and taking your fingers into his mouth, tongue swirling across them. You press down on his tongue forcing his mouth open, before leaning down and spitting in his mouth. A strangled moan emits from the back of his throat before you remove your fingers and let him swallow, “Finally following directions. Good boy.” 

    “Now,” you tilt your head, an expression of mock pity plastered to your face, “What am I supposed to do with you now, hmm?” You chew on the inside of your cheek and drum your spit-covered fingers over the toned muscle of his thigh, not touching his cock but sitting close enough that a movement of your fingers sent a shock through his core. “I could.. tie you up and make you watch me get off?” Your hand slides further up his thigh, “Think you’d like that one too much though.” You let your nails swipe softly over his thigh, relishing the feeling of the goosebumps forming on his skin. “I could just not touch you for the foreseeable future, finally teach you how to mind your manners?” 

     The effort he had been making to stay still and composed falters at your words. “Nonononono, please-” You raise your eyebrows at his begging, eyes narrowing as he continues. “Anything else, please I’ll be good I promise.” You let out a small puff of laughter, genuinely amused by his pleas, before giving a kiss to his thigh. 

    “Okay, sweet boy, not that one either then.” Your hand finds its way to his cock and softly palm over it, watching his hips jolt, either into or away from your touch. You aren’t sure that either of you knows which one it truly is. 

    “Fuck-wait-sensitive,” a pitiful whine leaves Din’s mouth. His eyes roll back and shut before snapping back open to meet yours when you give him a few light slaps to his cheek. 

     “Oh I know you must be, my poor baby” You take your hand away to lick a stripe across your palm before bringing it back to his cock. “That’s just too bad, hmm? Maybe if you knew how to follow rules we wouldn’t be in this situation right now.” You let your hand curl around the base of his dick, now red and leaking precum, basking in the broken whimper that leaves his lip when you give a small squeeze. “Never listen to me, never fucking learn your lesson either. What am I supposed to do with you?” 

    You take your hand away and situate yourself so you’re straddling one of his thighs, your cunt so wet that he can feel your slick through your panties. You move one hand to palm over his cock, slow and gentle before squeezing with your other again. “Maker, fuck- I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be so good for you, please.”  You smile at the pure beauty of the sight that lay in front of you. Head thrown back on the pillows, eyes clamped shut, mouth open and begging for you. Your beautiful boy. 

    “Oh baby I know you will.” You squeeze your hand a bit tighter and move the other faster, getting him as close to the edge as you possibly can. “Oh sweetheart, I can feel you shaking. What do you want, my Moon?” 

     “Stars- I need to cum, please please I’ll be good I’m sorry.” The words tumble out of his mouth almost incoherently, so fast and repetitive he barely makes sense. You force yourself to bite back the grin that was playing its way on your lips and press a soft kiss to his head before stilling your hand. 

    “I don’t think so, baby,” you loosen the grip you had wrapped around the base of his cock, taking the look of absolute desire and despair in his eyes. His hips, always having a mind of their own, were met with a sharp slap when they continued to buck into the air, trying to chase your touch. “Oh come on, do not give me that look. You have to learn your lesson somehow. It is not my fault you’re a needy slut.” You sigh with mock pity lacing your voice and features. You slide off of his thigh to settle between his legs, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You press a soft kiss to the head of his cock, spreading the precum over your lips. “You are so fucking pretty. My pretty boy.” 

    Din’s breathing is shallow and fast, attempting to regulate his body. His head is still thrown back, with one hand fisting the sheets to stop himself from reaching out to you, and his other hand tucked over his face. “Look so needy like this baby,” you lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, watching how it twitches under the gentle sensation of your tongue. “Are you not embarrassed by how pathetic you get for me?” you lick another stripe back down to the base “About how pathetic you get?” 

    Din simply mumbles out a quiet just for you, only to cut himself off with a strangled whine when you take the head of his cock into his mouth, sucking softly at the tip. You swirl your tongue around him, before taking him deeper into your throat, broken moans leaving his mouth. You pull off of him for a moment to let a string of spit fall onto his cock before taking him back into your mouth. You can feel the strain of his thighs, the sheer concentration it was taking him not to move, to be your good boy. 

     “Okay, okay, baby,” you say, placing soft kisses over the shaft of his dick, “You can use my mouth, I want you to use my mouth, but do not cum, understood?” You hear him whimper out a gentle yes ma'am before you take him back into your mouth, letting him set the pace this time. Unlike what you had expected, his thrusts were not hard and fast, mostly just trying to get you to take him deeper, restraining himself so he doesn’t cum. You feel him hit the back of your throat and moan around him, making his hips jolt in your mouth. 

    Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe his scent in through your nose, taking all of him in. Wanting to be consumed by and to consume him. You bob your head up and down, meeting the thrusts of his hips. You can feel the mess of your spit on him, moaning at how filthy the sounds you two make are. 

    “Wait wait- fuck- my Sun, fuck- gonna cum,” Din’s voice is desperate and pitched up. You can feel his muscles tighten and see his eyes grow wide as he bites into his fist trying to keep his moans at bay when you hollow your cheeks out around him. 

    “‘S’okay baby,” you say, pulling off of him, licking another stripe from the base, “Want you to cum on my face. Can you be good for me and do that?” You let your face rest on his thigh, next to his cock as you watch him start to come undone for you. 

His forehead and chest are covered in a sheen of sweat and his breathing is erratic. You spit in his palm and watch as he strokes his cock, fucking his own fist for you. His lip trembles with grunts and moans as his orgasm hits him, cum landing over your lips and cheek. You look at him with a cheeky grin on your face before swiping it off with your finger, taking it into your mouth, and sucking it clean with a pop as it leaves your mouth. 

    “You did so fucking good for me, sweet boy. Always do so well for me.” You smile as you prop yourself up and take in his fucked out expression, before moving to lay next to him again. You press a soft kiss to his temple, still covered in sweat, and murmur a soft I love you so much into his skin. Din looks down at you with a sleepy smile of his own, before trailing his hand down between your thighs, to be met with a small shake of your head. “Not now, my Moon, just rest okay?” 

     You move his hand so that it rests across your waist, feeling his rough fingers gently tracing patterns into your skin. “Wanna take care of you too, my Sun,” His eyes meet yours. Big and beautiful and pleading to please you, to be yours.  

    You just press a kiss to his pout feeling a smile forming on his lips. “Later, my Moon, we have all the time in the galaxy. Just shut your eyes and rest. I love you.” You feel your eyes starting to slip shut again, faster than you had expected, but not unwelcome. 

    Din just presses your body closer to his and nuzzles his face into your neck. “I love you too, my Sun. Forever and always.”

[juliaswickcrs]

BOOK COVER :: NOWHERE FAST ( gotg - gotg vol. 3 )

ELEKTRA bears a past lost to history.  The memories of her mother and father are shrouded in golden light and black shadows, yet she knows they must have loved her at some point. How else would she explain the golden ring she wears that bears her family crest, or the bracers gifted to her the day she left EARTH?   Her entire life she's dreamt of the stars, wishing to fly among them like the comets and meteors she saw from the barren fields of SOUTH DAKOTA. But like most of the galaxy, she has found herself among thieves and criminals and those too cruel to deserve either title. Forced to work off a debt to the KREE EMPIRE, the TERRAN bides her time, looking for any and all possible solutions. When RONAN THE ACCUSER demands she accompany a KREE TASKFORCE to MORAG, ELEKTRA seizes her opportunity to run. She steals away on a RAVAGER SHIP with a man who'd stolen an artifact valuable to the KREE.  If she can get her hands on it, perhaps she can even trade it for her FREEDOM. 

taglist: @bisexualterror @foxesandmagic @iron-parkr @camiemendess @a-song-of-quill-and-feather

@arrthurpendragon @starcrossedjedis @drbobbimorse @kingsmakers @noratilney

@stanshollaand @astarionbae @darth-caillic @mystic-scripture @aliverse

@misshiraethsworld @asirensrage @eddiemunscns

@princessmadelines @impales @waterloou

MARVEL TAGLIST: @notxjustxstories

[malsfefanfics]

OC Profile: Rosamund

art by @/nessiemccormick, edited down to icon size by me

"You wish to know more about Rosamund? She's rather easy to talk to, once you get past that Vestra pride. Though I honestly don't know her that well, given how Hubert didn't even tell me of her existance until recently. She also tends to keep people at dog's length from her at all times. Yes, I mean 'dog'." -- Edelgard, about Rosamund.

Full name: Rosamund von Vestra Nicknames: Rosa (Raphael, Mercedes, Caspar, Constance, Claude), Rosebud (Hapi), Rosie (by Dorothea), Petal (For Hubert Use Only), Little Rose Wolf (Yuri) Birthday: Day 6 of the Harpstring Moon, 1165 Age: 15-16 (Pre-TS), 20+ (Post-TS) Crest: None Family: Marquis Iason von Vestra (Father, Deceased), Medee (Mother), Hubert (Older Brother), Tancred (Younger Brother), Rigel (Best Hound) Nationality: Adrestia Titles: Master of the Hounds, The Thorn Huntress, Devoted Bloom Voice Claim: Jeannie Tirado (leaning more towards Rose from Resident Evil Village in tone)

Interests: Hunting, History of Fódlan and surrounding nations, Weapons and training, Singing Likes: Sweets, Dogs, Her brothers, Fish, Healthy Competition, Saint Cichol Dislikes: Her father, The Church, Saint Seiros, Noble Society, Liars, Formal Dresses, Herself

Favorite Meals: Super Spicy Fish Dango, Pheasant Roast with Berry Sauce, Pickled Rabbit Skewers Liked Meals: Saghert and Cream, Sweet Trio Bun, Grilled Herring, Sautéed Jerky, Small Fish Skewers, Fried Crayfish Disliked Meals: Daphnel Stew, Bourgeois Pike, Cheesy Verona Stew, Gautier Cheese Gratin

Tea Preferences: Lavender Blend, Almyran Pine Needles, Mint Tea, Rose Petal Blend

Liked Gifts: Hunting Dagger, The History of Fódlan, Fishing Float, Smoked Meat, any flower, Stylish Hair Clip Disliked Gifts: Gemstone Beads, Goddess Statuette, Blue Cheese, Book of Crest Designs

Lost Items:

Book of Hunters' Fables: A hand written book of fables and folk songs shared by hunters from across the continent. Looks well read.

Family Dagger: A dagger with a pink blade and a green handle. Reminds you of primroses.

Children's Music Box: A silver music box that plays an unfamiliar lullaby. There's the coat of arms of an Adrestian Family on the lid.

Starting Class: Noble Preferred Class Path: Noble --> Fighter/Myrmidon --> Archer/Thief --> Sniper/Assassin Strength: Bow, Sword Weakness: White Magic, Black Magic, Dark Magic Budding Talent: Authority Personal Skill: 'Howling Shot', increases power against Demonic Beasts by +5.

Weapons Starting Levels:

Sword: D Lance: E+ Axe: E Bow: B Brawling: E Reason: E Faith: E Authority: C Heavy Armor: E Riding: E+ Flying: E

Base Stats:

HP: 25 Str: 7 Mag: 1 Dex: 8 Spd: 6 Lck: 7 Def: 6 Res: 7 Cha: 9

Learned Faith Spells: ??? Learned Reason Spells: ???

Recruit Requirements for Canon-Compliance AUs: Crimson Flower requires C-support with Hubert and Edelgard, and B-support with Petra or Bernadetta. Verdant Wind requires B+ Rank or Higher of Flying, Faith, and Reason, and must have majority of Black Eagles and Ashen Wolves recruited. Cannot be recruited on Blue Lions or Silver Snow.

Potential Supports:

Byleth

Hubert

Tancred

Medee

Edelgard

Petra

Linhardt

Caspar

Dorothea

Bernadetta

Ferdinand

Jeritza

Mercedes

Felix

Sylvain

Ashe

Annette

Claude

Leonie

Raphael

Lysithea

Yuri

Hapi

Constance

Seteth

Flayn

Shamir

Hanneman

Manuela

Crit Quotes:

You wish!

For my brothers!

How annoying.

I'll never lose!

You call that a shot?

I thought you'd be a challenge.

I'll cut you down!

Time for the hunt!

No goddess can save you.

Defeat Quotes:

I can't fall here. Best to pull back for now.

That...could have gone better.

I'm sorry, brother. I failed you.....

Your Majesty, please....look after my family.....

I guess I truly am....the weakest Vestra.....

Skill Level Increase Quotes:

I can use this on the hunt.

This is easy as pie.

Another day, another lesson.

I can do that? Explains a lot. (Budding Talent)

I....I actually do that? (Magic)

Level Up Quotes:

As to be expected of a Vestra.

Excellence comes with hard work.

Getting stronger and wiser.

Missed the mark, it seems.

I can hear the old man scoffing from the grave.

Not sure I have much left to learn.

Gift Quotes:

Liked Gifts: Oh, I love this! How did you know?

Neutral Gifts: Thanks. This will be useful for later.

Disliked Gifts: You might have better luck elsewhere.

[blitzwhore]

Okay I have some song recs for the stolitz playlist.

The Simplest Words - The Narcissist Cookbook (feels very Blitz perspective of the self hating)

Howl - The Family Crest (This song feels very horny and top energy. The definition of I'm going to make you fall for me. Side note it also feels super omega verse, lol)

So Alright, Cool, Whatever - The Happy Fits (This is aggressive yearning. Oh my lord I could see it from Stolas or Blitz perspective)

Rises the Moon - Momoru (Lovely male cover of this song. For some reason I imagine it as a sad Blitz cover. Like almost this was a lullaby that Tilla would sing to him.)

Functional Poetry - The Narcissist Cookbook

I think I am going to leave my phone at home tonight- The Narcissist Cookbook (cute Blitz or Stolas perspective)

Casualty - Lawrence (Blitz perspective)

C'mon Baby, Cry - Orville Peck (Good cowboy sounding song about letting people in and having your guard down. When Blitz wants to cosplay as a cowboy)

The Curse of the Blackened Eye - Orville Peck (This is a really good song about depression)

Dirty Imbecile - The Happy Fits (Could see from either perspective)

Self Esteem - AJJ (Blitz perspective)

Goodbye Optimism - Pedals on Our Pirate Ships (Super edgy Blitz)

Self-Loathing - Days N Daze (Blitz)

I'm Not a Good Person - Pat The Bunny (Super edgy Blitz)

Horseface Pirate - Blind Mountain Holler (Title is self explanatory. Song just feels Helluva Boss coded)

Next to You - Jon Vincent III

Moments - Micah Edwards (sleepy)

Notice Me - acoustic - ROLE MODEL

Goodbye - The Altogether (sweet goodbye song 😭. Kinda feels apology tour coded)

Painkiller - Ruel (kind of a vibe and a jam)

I recommend some that I don't think you have yet. I have a huge playlist myself for edgy romances. I hope you enjoy 😊.

So many recs! Thank you! ✨💞

The Simplest Words - oh this one is going right into the Blitz playlist, damn. It's so him it hurts. Love how it sounds, too!!

Howl - oh hey I actually already have this song saved, I think an irl friend recced it. And yet somehow I never stopped to pay attention to the lyrics and realise just how well they fit Stolas holy shit. Especially the first half! Wtf. 🤣 I've added it to the Stolas playlist now! (and, yeah, the second half of the song is so omegaverse coded 😂 I love that shit)

So alright, cool, whatever - love it! The rhythm is a bit too upbeat, but I think the lyrics at the beginning are sad enough to fit in the Stolitz angst playlist, so there it goes!

Rises the moon - love how it sounds! I like your idea of Tilla singing it to Blitz, but while I was listening I couldn't help but imagine a sad and lonely Stolas singing it to himself as a way to self-soothe. I feel like the moon imagery and the poetic language fit his character very well. (and how cute and heartbreaking would it be if the song Tilla sings to Blitz is the same song Stolas sings to himself? 😭) added to the Stolas playlist!!!

Functional poetry - the lyrics fit both of them at different parts, so yeah, this one goes to the Stolitz playlist! I really liked it!

I think I'm going to leave my phone at home tonight - the first half of the song fits Stolas so well, I feel! And I like the second half, I have a very soft spot for spoken poetry in the middle of songs (Nightwish songs my beloved), so I think I'm gonna save it to the Stolas playlist!

Casualty - yup, 100% Blitz lol, added!

C'mon baby, cry - oh hey, I already have an Orville Peck song in the Stolas playlist (recced by @stolitzsings!). Despite the cowboy vibes I feel like the lyrics of this song also fit Stolas better, so his playlist is where this is going ❤️

The curse of the blackened eye - saving this one to my likes because I really enjoyed it but I haven't decided if it fits any of my HB playlists!

Dirty imbecile - I think this one might go in my Blitz playlist! Gotta listen to it a couple of times to see if it sticks :)

Self esteem - the lyrics fit Blitz so well! Pity the song is so short!

Goodbye optimism - super edgy indeed! I don't think this one fits my style but I can see Blitz in it!

Self loathing - same as above

I'm not a good person - damn this is so Blitz 😳 how sad is it that the only lyric that doesn't fit him is "I'm asleep all day in my room" because he doesn't have a room? Anyway, this is going in his playlist!

Horseface pirate - loving the way this sounds! It's going in the Blitz playlist methinks :)

Next to you - I'm saving this one to my personal likes because I'm not sure it fits any of my HB playlists but I really enjoyed it!

Moments - this is so pretty 🥺 I can imagine Stolas singing it about Blitz. I'll add it to the Stolitz angst playlist!

Notice me - might keep this one in the Blitz playlist :3 I have to listen to it a couple of times

Goodbye - 😭😭😭 *adds to stolitz angst playlist*

Painkiller - loving the way this one sounds. I'm gonna save it to my likes for now and maybe it'll make it into a playlist after I've listened to it a few times!

Thanks SO MUCH for these recs, I loved so many of these!!!! 😍

[slightly-nerdy-rambles]

Robstar Week Day 7: Like the Fire, the Sun (Prompt: Playlist)

After putting some thought into the final prompt for this week, I decided to get a bit creative with it. Many of you are probably familiar with the Royal Family Verse, a special "setting" that I like to place one Robstar Week entry in each year. Well, when I was planning out each of the fics for this year, I realized that 1) I was six fics in and still hadn't made plans for an RFV fic yet, and 2) I didn't really have any good ideas to make "playlist" into a story. So then I thought, "Why don't I make the playlist, have it be an RFV playlist, and use one of those songs as a story prompt?"

What follows is a story set in the 'verse that's inspired by the song "You Are the Beginning" by The Family Crest. It's a sweeping, epic piece (The Family Crest is really good at those, I highly recommend the group) that gave me the mental image of Nightwing and Starfire standing together on a cliffside and staring down an alien invasion fleet. Because of today's theme, both the title of the fic and the lyrics at the beginning are from that song as well.

As a bonus, I'm also going to post the playlist itself once this fic is up. Now you, too, will be able to listen along while thinking about Robin and Starfire being awesome warrior monarchs together. Enjoy everyone, and happy Robstar Week!

Like the Fire, the Sun

Oh, what a love that gives And then taketh all away Oh, what a man will do When a man’s lost everything When everything’s changed

One of the less pleasant things Nightwing had learned from moving to Tamaran was that the Vega star system it was a part of was kind of terrible. Half the inhabited planets were veritable death-worlds, more than half of them seemed to be in competition with one another over who could make the most tyrannical and expansion-hungry interplanetary empire, and everyone who just wanted to be left alone had to deal with it. As loath as he was to admit it, he could see why some members of the intergalactic scene looked at the powerful warrior race of Tamaran and assumed they were just another gang of space thugs.

But he had also seen, time and time again, that those naysayers couldn’t be more wrong. Starfire’s people – his people, by rite and marriage – weren’t some mindless brutes, they were survivors. He’d seen them wrestle beasts five times a man’s size to the ground to stop them rampaging through the streets. He’d seen them cultivate carnivorous plants that made their mightiest Earth counterparts look like daisies because those plants’ flowers and fruits had too much medicinal value to ignore. He’d read and listened to the long history of Tamaran, its greatest triumphs and harshest tragedies alike, and he could say with full conviction that he was proud to be accepted among its people.

And if the Citadel warlords thought they could take that all away, Nightwing – Mari’kesh in Tamaranean – was far from the only one ready to put them in their place.

*******

Empress Koriand’r and Emperor Mar’ikesh stood at the edge of a jagged peak about a dozen miles out from Tamaran’s capital. The empress hovered just off the ground, though what joy sustained her at a time like this her husband could only guess. The source of the small crackles of viridian light playing at her fingertips was much easier to identify.

“What are you thinking?” Mar’ikesh asked. His grip tightened a little on the carved fighting staff propped against the ground – heavier than the bo staff he’d wielded years ago, but a comforting presence nonetheless – and he peered up beyond her to see how much of the descending warships he could make out.

Koriand’r did not answer right away, but her nostrils flared as if in challenge and she squinted closer against the haze of distance.

“There,” she finally said, pointing out one ship among many. “The Citadel disguised it well, but it’s just a little too bulky to be practical for an ordinary fighter, and too well-guarded. That is where we will find the command center.”

“Hmm.” Mar’ikesh didn’t have a Tamaranean’s distance vision, so he would have to take her word for it. In spite of the dire circumstances, the corner of his lip twitched into the tiniest of smirks.

“So now all we have to do is head straight for the ship with the most firepower and the heaviest guard,” he said. “Sounds fun.”

Koriand’r could not bring herself to share his dark humor. “They will not take our children.”

Mar’ikesh let his smirk evaporate. He wasn’t sure whether she was thinking of their own children – evacuated from the capital, now, and hidden as safely as they could be in a distant fortress – or the children, the people, the future of Tamaran itself. Either way, he replied, “No. They won’t.”

With a concerned frown, he eyed her and added, “You’re sure about this plan?”

The split-second of hesitation before she nodded was barely perceptible, not enough room for argument. “Yes. I can fly more quickly than a ship, and I’m a much smaller target. This is the best chance we have to end this quickly.”

Mar’ikesh nodded back. “I’ll be right beside you, even if I do need a ship.”

********

The flight to meet the invasion fleet went by in a tense blur. Mar’ikesh was not the only one who needed mechanical assistance to get there – only the best fliers dared join their empress in taking this mission on without the protection of a ship’s hull and shield, and in any case they needed the firepower to pierce the shields covering the command ship’s hull. But they sent a single fighter ship, their smallest and fastest, and cloaked along with the empress and their fliers until they got close enough to open fire.

What followed were a few tense minutes of sheer madness that seemed to stretch on to forever, as fighter and fliers alike dove and weaved to avoid return fire all while trying to make a breach in the command center. Mar’ikesh could only wait, white-knuckled in his seat, while blasts from the Citadel’s fighters strained the limits of his own ship’s shields and fliers around him fell. He could not say how many were hit and how many recovered, but he did not see Koriand’r among them. Speed, maneuverability, and surprise all seemed to be working in their favor.

In that time of waiting and praying, it struck him all at once that he didn’t know what he would do if he lost her. He had given up everything back on Earth to be with Koriand’r, with Starfire, when she had first been summoned to take the throne. They had both lost the lives they’d built for themselves twice over now, to tragedy and duty and love, but duty and love had given them a chance to build their lives anew. They had a family now.

If his children lost their mother while he was stuck waiting in a tiny fighter ship, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to forgive himself.

The sudden crackling of the command ship’s force shield tore him from his morbid thoughts, and the pilot of his fighter whooped as the shield finally dissolved under the Tamaraneans’ fire. The gunners didn’t miss a moment, and in seconds more the weaker physical hull of the command ship had been breached.

And then a new chaos broke out as the door to the fighter flung open and a Tamaranean flier leaned in to gather him and the other small handful of passengers. It was not Koriand’r, and Mar’ikesh had to fight to stop himself from making a leap of logic and assuming the worst.

Wordlessly, he undid his harness and took the flier’s arms in a trapeze hold like he’d done with his wife so, so many times. The Tamaranean pulled him out and up past the wild and confused shots of their enemies, and in another several stretched-out seconds they were through the breach in the command ship’s hull.

Mar’ikesh’s racing heart skipped a beat when he saw Koriand’r there, already felling Citadel guards with a flurry of well-placed starbolts. He pulled the staff from where it was clipped against his back and moved to join her.

“If anyone tries to challenge you for the throne after this, I’m kicking their varblernelki myself,” he quipped, swinging the staff wide to catch two Citadelians around the midsection and slam them against the wall.

Now, as the Tamaraneans were making headway, Koriand’r allowed herself a fierce grin. “And I will gladly watch,” she replied, flinging two more Citadel warriors to the end of the hall with her eyebeams.

The two of them whirled around one another, working together with practiced ease and watching each other’s blind spots as they fought. Before long the first wave of Citadel guards had been dispatched, and the Tamaranean team began making their way to the main control center. There they would be able to wreak havoc on the standing fleet’s organization and – with luck – claim some of it for their own. If this mission went well enough, they’d weaken the Citadel’s forces enough to end its invasion before it really started.

The two of them had found their paths changed twice each: Princess Koriand’r and Dick Grayson, to Starfire and Robin, to Empress Koriand’r and Emperor Mar’ikesh. They had rebuilt both times together, overcome countless challenges together, and now they could not truly imagine their lives taking any other path.

And whatever world they lived on, so long as they drew breath they were going to ensure that world was not lost.

[romanov-family-photos]

The 1997 Anastasia movie, while most likely being most people’s introduction to the Romanov Family and their history, was incredibly inaccurate.

Here are some of those inaccuracies

In the first opening moments, of the film we see the Dowager Empress Marie Feodorovna boarding the carriage to go to the ball. The footman greets her as Your Highness. In fact, the Dowager Empress addressed as Your Imperial Highness (there was a huge difference as Princess and Princesses were only entitled Your Highness.)

The Romanov Tercentennial was in fact 1913, not 1916.

In 1916, as the movie claims, Anastasia is 8. In fact, Anastasia was born in 1901, making her actually 15 at the time of the ball.

When we see Anastasia greet her grandmother at the ball, Marie Feodorovna wears a wedding ring on her left hand. In Russian Orthodoxy, the wedding band is worn on the right hand.

When the ‘evil’ Rasputin party-crashes the ball, Nicholas tells him he is a traitor. In the time Rasputin spent with the family, there was never any evidence that he betrayed them. He offered them his support, albeit for questionable reasons, but was only sent away for a short time by the Tsar under pressure from his ministers.

The raid of the Winter Palace occurred well into 1917, not 1916 as portrayed in the film. By this time, Nicholas had already abdicated (March of 1917) and they were imprisoned first at the Alexander Palace, then in the Governor’s mansion in Tobolsk, before being moved to the Ipatiev House in 1918, where they were ultimately murdered. The murder of the imperial family did not happen until two years after the ball in the film.

When Anastasia runs back to her room to retrieve her music box, we see the room to be rather “royal-looking” with a single large bed in the corner. Anastasia shared a room with her older sister Marie for all of their childhood, and their beds were in fact camp-beds; hard and not as luxurious as other royalty’s of the time.

Ten Years Later, 1926, Anya leaves the orphanage for a job at the fish market. When Anastasia reaches the fork in the road, the sign says Saint Petersburg. During the Great War, St. Petersburg was renamed Petrograd, a less German-sounding name. After communist leader Vladimir Lenin died in 1924, it became Leningrad, when it did not become Saint Petersburg again until 1991. Throughout the film this inaccuracy is repeated, most significantly in the song Rumor in Saint Petersburg. One would think even the peasants would be accustomed to a new name of their city after 10-15 years.

When Anastasia reaches the train station, the station guard wears the red cap with the Soviet crest. This crest wasn’t used in fact until the 1930s. It was only 1926.

A number of times, the peasants and Dmitri call her The Princess. In Russia, this would have been a great offense to her title, as Anastasia had always been, a Grand Duchess. The title Princess ranks significantly under Grand Duchess

Anya, is in fact a Russian nickname for Anna, not Anastasia. Anya was the name of her mother’s lady-in-waiting and close friend Anna Vyrubova. Anastasia’s nickname was Nastya, Nastia or shvibzik “imp”.

In 1926, the Catherine Palace was being used as a museum and its park area was open to the public, not quite as run down as in the film. 

It wasn’t also the Imperial Family’s home, as suggested; they preferred the comfort and privacy of the Alexander Palace at Tsarskoe Selo, a little while outside the city.

When Olga, Tatiana and Marie come down to dance with their sister during the song, they all look to be around the same height. In truth, Anastasia was much shorter than her sisters. Tatiana was the tallest in the family, standing at around 5’9

The same mistake was made with Nicholas. When he and Alexandra come out of the portrait, he looks to be much taller than Alix; he, like his daughter, was actually rather short, only about 5’6, and stood around the same height as his wife.

When Bartok watches Vlad, Anastasia and Dmitri leave the ball room, he says All the Romanovs are dead. This simply wasn’t true.  In 1919, around 30 Romanovs managed to escape via various methods, including the Dowager Empress Marie Feodorovna.

On the boat to France, Rasputin attempts to force Anya to jump off the side of the ship. She dreams she sees her father, sisters and brother playing in water. Nicholas calls her “Sunshine”, which was actually the nickname of her little brother, Alexei.

In this same dream, Alexei jumps from the top of the cliff down into the water. It was well-known that Alexei had a severe type 2 case of hemophilia, and there was no way Nicholas nor any of the sisters would have allowed him to make such a dangerous leap.

When the gang are journeying to Paris, they hope to meet the Dowager Empress. In 1926, Marie was actually living in Denmark, after the death of her beloved sister, Queen Alexandra of England the year before.

When Anastasia meets Sophie, she is asked how she likes her tea. Anastasia tells her she doesn’t like tea. But there have been many anecdotes of the real Anastasia drinking tea in the mornings and afternoons with her sisters and parents. (This of course may have changed as she aged).

When Dimitri refers to Anya and the Dowager Empress as ‘your grace’ this title is also incorrect. “Your Grace” was commonly used only amongst non-royal dukes and duchesses, and archbishops of the United kingdom.

When Vladimir announces ‘we have found the heir to the Russian throne’, this is completely innacurate. Even as the closest surviving member to the last Tsar, Anastasia would, sadly, have no right to the throne. There were around 30 dynastic members of the family surviving in 1926, and many available males. In Imperial Russia, the line of succession was strictly male-primogeniture; the eldest son would inherit the throne. In 1926, by law, this male would be the Grand Duke Cyril Vladimirovich.

The Dowager Empress could not have possibly had the means to offer a 10 million ruble reward for the return of her granddaughter. The Romanov fortune had all but disappeared and she largely relied on the charity of the English and Danish Royal Family.

The biggest inaccuracy, however, was that Anastasia survived. She, along with the rest of her family, were murdered by the Bolsheviks in 1918

[possum-quesadilla]

THE FULL OUTLINE FOR LONELY REMNANTS / CORPSEJUICE IS COMPLETE…. Now to just keep writing the actual damn thing…

I thought it would be eight chapters but it’s going to be twelve if you include the epilogue :,)

Here are the names and songs for each chapter, these are subject to change! If you wanna be completely totally in the dark, I’ll put them in a ‘read more’ so they can be avoided

- Chapter 1 songs: title song (“Ocean Breathes Salty” by Modest Mouse), “Friends In Low Places” by Worthikids, “Go to the Light” by Murder By Death, “Under My Skin” by Jukebox The Ghost, “You’re Dead” by Norma Tanega (for vibes), “Lost” by Amanda Palmer, “Lonesome Town” by Ricky Nelson, “Cut You A Piece” from 35mm, “I Will Always Think of You” from “BoJack Horseman, “Today Today” by Jack Stauber.

- Chapter 2: “I wish I'd find all the lonely remnants, Of you that left when your head cracked open” from “Coma Baby” by Nicole Dollanganger (woah! Guys it’s the title!!). Songs: title song, “Will You Remember?” by The Cranberries, “Sleepwalk” by Forrest Day.

- Chapter 3: “I'll save you from that fate, If I have to kill every angel in Heaven, I will snatch you back from the grave, And you will live to see my bed another day” from “Over the Moon” by Penelope Scott (thanks Cosmo <3 ) (No songs currently other than the title…)

- Chapter 4: “Didn't give me time to say goodbye in the way that I wanted to, So honey, close your eyes and stay like you're supposed to do” from “Pigeon” by Cavetown. Songs: title song, “A Mask of my Own Face” by Lemon Demon.

- Chapter 5: “Now you remember where you came from, Now you remember where you’re going, You’ve got to keep it flowing” from “Spiral of Ants” by Lemon Demon. Songs: title song, “Danny” by Nicole Dollanganger, “Here Before” by Vashti Bunyan, “Meteor Shower” by Cavetown, “Soap” by Penelope Scott.

- Chapter 6: “But you see, It’s not me, It’s not my family” from “Zombie” by The Cranberries. Songs: title song, “STRAIGHT DOWN” by Worthikids, “Lifetime Achievement Award” by Lemon Demon, “Army Dreamers” by Kate Bush, “Everything Moves” by Bronze Radio Return, “Memento Mori” by Crywank, “What Did You Do” by Jack Stauber.

- Chapter 7: “My body’s made of crushed little stars, And I’m not doing anything, I wanna see the whole world” from “My Body’s Made of Crushed Little Stars” by Mitski (guys I promise I tried to limit the amount of mitski… at least there’s no Jack Stauber bc I’m so strong). Songs: title song, “Remember My Name” by Mitski, “The Wolf” by SIAMES.

- Chapter 8: “Hey, Would it be so bad if I stayed? I’m just a ghost out of his grave” from “Ghosting” by Mother Mother. Songs: title song, “Love Will” by Jack Stauber, “dead girl in the pool.” by girl in red, “Body” by Mother Mother, “It Will Come Back” by Hozier.

- Chapter 9: “But in the end if I lose my voice, Will you forget about your love for me? But I still hold out hope that someday, I’ll be worth more than the silence left in my way” from “Canary in a Coal Mine” by The Crane Wives. Songs: title song, “Amen” by Amber Run.

- Chapter 10: “Wildfires have been eating you inside my head, Trying to smoke you out, Or burn you alive in it” from “Please Just Stay Dead” by Nicole Dollanganger. Songs: title song, “I Will Never Forget” by Kimya Dawson, “Howl” by Florence + The Machine, “Kitchen Fork” by Jack Conte, “Sense, Sensibility” by AJJ, “Putting The Dog To Sleep” by The Antlers, “My Name is Carnival” by Stranded Horse, “Rule #21 - Momento Mori” by Fish in a Birdcage, “The Apology Song” from “The Book of Life”.

- Chapter 11: “Villain and violent, Infant and innocent, Baby, both arms cradle you now” from “forwards beckon rebound” by Adrianne Lenker. Songs: title song, “Howl” by The Family Crest, “Small Red Boy” by AJJ, “Let Us Adore You” from “Steven Universe”, “The Bed Song” by Amanda Palmer, “Today Today” by Jack Stauber AGAIN.

- Chapter 12, epilogue: “And maybe we'll get lucky and we'll both grow old, Well, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I hope so” from “Ocean Breathes Salty” by Modest Mouse (oh shit like chapter one!! That’s crazy). Songs: title song, “Nothing Man” by Sodikken, more to come!

[fantasyinvader]

Thinking about how Safflower and Scarlet Blaze fit together.

The thing about Safflower is that it repeatedly highlights Edelgard’s manipulative nature. From her taking credit for Byleth’s leadership, to her information campaign targeted at the commoners, her spreading false information to sneak attack Arianrhod, BESF members being referred to as tools by Hubert, the implication Petra was lied to in her paralogue, Cornelia revealing she’s manipulating TWSITD rather than the other way around, Arianrhod getting nuked, Hubert’s narrative surrounding her backstory conflicting with her own, offering Rhea the chance to surrender publicly while saying she should be destroyed in private, and the unease of the army going into the final battle over her keeping them in the dark. Even the reaction out of Asian players, that they walk away from the route seeing Edelgard as having tricked them, with the devs themselves saying that they were trying to trick players,  indicates that this is the actual intent of the route.

Edelgard is not to be trusted.

Then you take Scarlet Blaze into consideration. Edelgard makes a big show about saving her allies… in order to be seen as reliable by them. At the same time, we get told that for all her talk about how awful the nobility are her reforms are favoring them while oppressing the commoners to the point that attracts support from the Western Kingdom. Yet people still act as though Edelgard’s reforms benefit the commoners though it’s pointed out that Dorothea isn’t really the same as Joe the farmer and Dimitri needs it spelled out that such reform. She has Petra betray her home land to support her, and we get confirmation that she was using conscription to bolster her ranks rather than this just being something Thales does.

There’s just so much in Hopes, with even Edelgard herself saying she wouldn’t trust herself in the shadow realm. It all goes back to how Safflower made Edelgard out to be manipulating everyone, with Hopes focusing more on how much of an actor she is. This is even in play with her relationship with Shez, the player character, as she makes a display about learning to trust them despite knowing that Shez is from Agartha. But, again, in the Shadow Realm she talks about how she can’t afford to trust ANYONE indicating that the Support is more a reflection of the connection Shez feels with Edelgard rather than a bond that goes both ways. It even ties into the Edge of Dawn lyrics talking about her wearing a mask, with the devs commenting that her being the villainous conqueror is meant to be a twist to contrast the cute girl exterior.

The Japanese doesn’t make it out that she’s become her mask, that she’s become the Flame Emperor, in it’s version of the song. It just says that Edelgard hides her true face behind a mask. Taking the twist into account and her ending title of Flame Emperor, the Flame Emperor is who Edelgard actually is. The cute girl is the mask.

It’s just another way that the translation got Edelgard backwards.

And with that in mind, there’s one final fact. In Hopes, she reveals that her being drawn to Byleth is… simply their crests resonating with each other. It’s not her being romantically drawn to Byleth. Combine this with her supports opening up after Byleth gains the ability of the Sword of the Creator alongside a cutscene that month where she talks about bringing Byleth to her side, in addition to her saying she’d do anything to sway Byleth if they end up fighting each other at the end of Part 1.

With all this in mind, Edelgard tries to gaslight Byleth. Trying to make that attraction out to be romantic feelings despite her knowing the truth. Likewise, the version of the experiments she tells Byleth isn’t the truth either, as Hubert makes it clear she knows it wasn’t the nobility but the Agarthans who destroyed her family and turned her father into their puppet. Hopes reveals that she knew that the Agarthans were working to turn people into Crest Beasts for her, that she sacrificed Monica to them, even indicates that she commissioned Aymr before the start of the game. Yet Edelgard allowed the experiments to happen, she hid Kronya because she knew Monica was dead, and through it all she lied about it. Just like Jeralt said, her words are meaningless because she will say whatever she needs to in order to get people to support her. Even when she gives her final speech, she's activating her weapon and tried to kill Dimitri when he reached out to her. And that’s the truth of the game

All the uwu is just an act.

She’ll twist her backstory for her own profit.

She’s just trying to use you.

Edelgard doesn’t love you.

[amaiguri]

The North

The North is cold, harsh, and human settlements are often isolated from each other. Perpetually dim save for dawn and dusk thanks to the Upper Continent, sharp mountains, harsh winters, and richly colored plants mark the environment. Rumateurs — llama-like beasts with big noses — graze across the moors, seals lay on the ice cold beaches and turn to humans, and beasts that crawl from the Abyss eat human minds. In the East, Demons — shunned by all other races — live in their blood-soaked, feral hivemind. Across the North, it is generally accepted that you look after your own, as there is little room for generosity. Even if there was, it would do neither of you very good; one must learn to survive on one’s own.

The North has officially surrendered in the face of the Philosopher King's power. The Noble Houses are soon to be stripped off their titles and a new government is set to rise—but who will truly hold power in this new world?

Nouveau Thuille

Nouveau Thuille is an isolated city-state with a mafia-like government of oligarchs who claim to reign in the stead of their Once and Future Emperor. Their Gothic architecture fends off year-round snows and industrialization fills the air with Ysse and smoke. While corruption and murder is just the status quo, Nouveau Thuilleans will set it all aside if anyone else tries to tell them otherwise.

"Fitte Thuille, abso'uen." "For Thuille, the World."

The Saegen Folk

The Saegen Folk make up the rest of the North -- a diverse group of sailors and warlord families. Their culture is filled with song, from cooking and cleaning folk tunes to Sage-sung ballads at religion ceremonies. But even shieldsiblings drill to the rhythm of drums. Loyalty to family is matched by few other cultures in Yssaia.

Amai's Thoughts

Since Arlasaire is from Nouveau Thuille and ALSO since it's the setting of my Assassin Life Sim about Murder and Self-Care, it's a lot more developed on an individual level than some of the other cultures.

Like, I can tell you the details of their music and the history of their theatre and their frozen foods and that their coffee isn't actually coffee from coffee beans but ground from dried mushrooms...

I can tell you which families have power and what they control and produce and what their signature art forms are. I can tell you their family drama from the last ten years -- like how Giluniques was courting Lucienne, even though his father called off the marriage because HER father tried to murder everyone.

I can tell you about how Claudia d'Magnia started hallucinating and no one new how to help her and died tragically.

I can tell you about how Einharde d'Magnia picked up a bunch of disabled orphans and turned them into his personal assassins.

I can tell you what the crests and family words of every house is...

...or was, before the Aftokratoria dismantled them lol #EatTheRich but AMA

[devotion-that-corrupts]

spelling url with song titles tag game

i saw @corffiser do it and thought it looked fun. i've decided to make it more challenging for myself and only put songs that i associate with concept/trope of devotion that corrupts, so here goes.

D - Devotion, by Necessary Response E - Evelyn Evelyn, by Evelyn Evelyn V - Vows, by Mercy Necromancy O - Our Way Out, by Nico Collins T - Two, by Sleeping At Last I - I'll Follow You, by Shinedown O - Our love is God, from Heathers The Musical N - No death, by Mirel Wagner

T - The Horror of Our Love, by Ludo H - Howl, by The Family Crest A - A Car Crash For Two, by Gia Ford T - Touch, by Lights Fade Low

C - Chokehold, by Sleep Token O - Only Us, by Miracle Of Sound R - Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God), by Kate Bush R - Religion, by Lana Del Rey U - Under the Skin, by Snaggletooth P - Put It on Me, by Matt Maeson T - This Tornado Loves You, by Neko Case S - Same Disease, by Red

and since i actually like how this turned out, i put these in a playlist for convenience.

there's no way i'm tagging 20 people though, just do it if you think it'd be fun :)

[blossom-hwa]

Hello again! I was wondering if I could request a skz minho enemies to lovers au ? Thank you for sharing your work with us these past five years !!

of course you may, thanks for the request and your kind words! I hope you enjoy this!

5 year anniversary drabble game: send me a Stray Kids/TXT/Golden Child/Ateez/The Boyz member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

(this is a continuation of this drabble that I wrote for my 4 year anniversary - it’s not necessary for understanding this story, but if you’d like a prequel of sorts here it is!)

(update: I've written another sequel to this piece, When the Canary Stops Singing!)

REQUESTS OPEN!!

~

Title: Warning Song

Pairing: Minho x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 988

Warnings: mentions of death and injury, cursing

~

“Why did you come to warn me?”

You pause in rewrapping the bandage around your leg, one end of the white cloth pulled taut in your hand. “What?”

Minho’s eyes stare into yours, unflinchingly steady. “I asked why you came to warn me.”

You turn back to your leg and snort. “What, did you think I should’ve just left you to die?”

Silence follows your question, silence too heavy to ignore. You look at him in disbelief. “Wow, really? Just how much did you really hate me?”

“Quite a lot,” Minho replies baldly. “You were always annoying. Always in my way.”

“Oh, that’s rich, coming from you.” You tie off the end of the bandage and tuck the rest of the cloth back into your bag. “Me, always in your way? You’re being ridiculous - if anything, you were always in mine -”

“Answer the question.”

You purse your lips together, turning to fully face your oh-so-ridiculously-insufferable prince. “Your Highness, do you remember what my family’s crest is?”

“The canary.”

“Correct,” you snap. “And what do canaries do in the coal mines?”

“They sing.” Minho pauses. “Until they don’t.”

“Also correct.” You sigh. “My family has a duty to yours, Your Highness. We have always been your heralds of danger, and your protectors when needed. My parents served yours. My brother served you and your sister before...” You swallow, looking away. It isn’t fast enough to avoid watching the shadow pass across Minho’s face, though. “Anyway, whether I like it or not, protecting your family is part of my history. The fact that I think you as a person are a waste of space in this kingdom means nothing. I will sing for you, no matter what.” You clench your fist, then release it. “Until I can’t.”

For a long time, Minho doesn’t look back at you, still stays turned away. You’re in no mood to keep talking, so you don’t encourage conversation. But halfway through you reorganizing your bag, he speaks. 

“I could release you of your service,” he says quietly.

You blink once, twice. “What?”

“You shouldn’t remain bound to us by duty,” Minho continues as though he didn’t hear you, though you know he must have. “If I released you and your family, you would no longer be forced to protect us at your own expense.”

You gape at Minho, slack-jawed. “Your Highness - you do realize what you’re saying, right?”

“I do.” He stares right at you, eyes clear and steady. It still barely manages to convince you he knows what he’s speaking of. “I’m being serious.”

“Then you should stop.” You sigh loudly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “It’s not - it’s not that easy. You cannot just release a family of their entire history since this dynasty began with words like that.”

“But no one should be forced to lay down their lives for someone else without reason,” Minho argues. “Least of all not someone who they think is a waste of space in this kingdom.”

Your face burns at the words he just spat back at you. “Your Highness, I spoke out of turn. I shouldn’t have -”

“My point still stands,” Minho interrupts, raising his voice above yours. “No one should be forced into this sort of service just by virtue of their heritage if they don’t believe in it -”

“It doesn’t matter!” you snap. “It doesn’t matter - this is my family. My duty! I will not put that aside for my own petty opinions about you and your personality!”

“But -”

“Stop talking!” you finally yell, anger boiling over. “My brother died for your sister. My parents died for you! Everyone is dead, I’m the only one left - if I give up on this, there is nothing left, do you understand? Nothing!” 

Silence falls flat on the ground. You turn away from the prince so he won’t see the tears burning in your eyes, threatening to roll down your face. Your brother, dead in action. Your mother and father, cut down before your very eyes. The knife plunging into your shoulder, the sword that sliced down your calf, the dark path to the castle you can barely remember, clouded by the fear that you might be too late...

It can’t be for nothing. It can’t.

“Hm.”

Internally, you groan. “Your Highness -”

“So what I’m hearing,” Minho says, cutting you off, “is that I’m just too handsome and charismatic for you to stop protecting.” A smirk crawls up his face as you stare at him, incredulous. “That I’m too wonderful to give up on, too smart and pretty and too good of a ruler -”

You open your mouth to do - something. Talk. Scream. Yell at him and slap him in the face. But as he looks at you, that obnoxious smirk curling his lips -

“What the fuck?” you gasp, hysterical laugher bubbling up your throat. “Do you even hear what you’re saying? Gods, Your Highness, this is exactly why I always hated you -”

“Thank you.”

You swallow your hysteria out of surprise. “What?”

“Thank you,” Minho repeats, low and quiet. When he meets your eyes, he actually looks serious. “For warning me. For not leaving me.” The corner of his lip curves up, just slightly. “For protecting me, even if you think I’m a waste of space.”

For several moments you just stare at him, trying to process the words he just said. When it finally twigs that he’s thanking you, you still have to blink several times before you fully understand. 

“You’re welcome,” you reply, words stilted and off-kilter even to your ears. You clear your throat, trying to gain back a semblance of normality. “And will you please let that go?”

“Never,” Minho sniffs, that annoying glint of mischief sparkling in his eye. For some reason, it’s not as maddening as you once thought before. “Not on your life.”

[kaysfanficcorner]

Out of This World Chapter 8:

Island in the Suns

Author’s Note: The bitch is back! My life’s been a little topsy turvy as of late so this chapter took me way longer to finish than originally anticipated. My schedule is about to change, but worry not as I fully intend to ride this story out until the ending I have planned out. Also, I may start doing little one shots set in this universe. So keep an eye out for those! As I said before, this story is going to be spicy from chapter 7 forward so be prepared!

Mando’a phrases:

Ad’ika - little one Aliit - Family Jate Ca - Goodnight Jate Vaar’tur - Good morning Yooba solus mesh’la, ner cyare - You are beautiful, my beloved

Summary: The relationship between the Mandalorian and the Earthling blossoms as they make their way to Tatooine in search of the mysterious Mandalorian last seen in Mos Pelgo. Once on the infamous desert planet, the plot thickens.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Female Earthling Reader/oc

Warnings: Cursing, FLUFF! SMUT! 🌶️ If you are under the age of 18, you are prohibited from this work of fiction.

Music Inspiration:

Island in the Sun - Not really an inspiration aside from the chapter title, but this song just makes me think of Tatooine

Aerials - Mentioned in the chapter thanks to a conversation with @missbabyjay

AO3

Art at the end of the chapter by my love, Justin Wood

*****

Din Djarin is seated alone in the pilot’s seat of the Razor Crest, setting a course for a nearby star port to refuel again as he gazes upon on the vast star field before him. Because of your presence aboard his ship and the childlike wonder with which you still treat life in space after all these months, Din has gained a newfound appreciation for the beauty this galaxy has to offer. Every so often, Din now takes a moment to stop and admire his surroundings rather than go about his business without paying it much mind. Among all of things you’ve brought to his life and the ways you’ve changed him for the better, that is surely one of his favorites.

Gor Koresh had practically been on the other side of the galaxy from Tatooine, so the planet of sand and sun is still nearly two weeks away, even with the speed of hyperspace aiding in the Razor Crest’s travels. It’s been six days since the fight in Koresh’s arena, and since he’d consummated his romantic connection to you. In those six days, the parameters of the relationship have changed dramatically. 

There’s no longer any need to pretend that this isn’t a real thing anymore. Neither of you is concerned with timid behavior or caution in the way you address one another as both companions and lovers. Din feels proud to have you openly be by his side in that way, and you seem to be over the moon with the fact. The kid also seems to be on board with this, acting happier than usual around the two adults in charge of his care. You take the concept of belonging to one another very passionately, which Din admires a great deal. Loyalty is the most attractive attribute to a Mandalorian such as him. 

As your daily training continues on, Din is aware that the reverence you display for his lessons has increased exponentially. He hasn’t caught you daydreaming about something in the middle of an explanation once, which is something he used to catch you doing all the time. It never really used to bother him before, but the increased displays of character mean a lot to him. Because of this you’re also improving, and that in it of itself fills Din with so much pride for you. Keeping up while lightly sparring with him is something you hadn’t been able to do up to this point, and now you seem to hold your own against him quite well. Din still has much to teach you, but your progress is undeniable.

Seeing how seriously you take the act of learning about his culture, Din has decided to take equal steps in learning about yours. He’s been asking you to teach him more things about Earth, and he’s taken to using your personal device more often.

You dote on him even more now, treating him with the utmost affection as you constantly offer to do little things for him. Usually he declines your offers, all except for one. You like to bring him a mid day caf without being prompted almost daily, and he’s come to look forward to the ritual of it. Sitting in the pilot seat at the correct time (even if he has nothing ship related to do), hearing the cockpit door swish open, feeling your hand rest upon his shoulder, the cup of caf coming into view as you lower it in front of him, and finally, the kiss you place upon his beskar covered head. It’s the same each day, and you always whisper something sweet about him before you continue on with whatever it is you’re up to. Nothing makes him feel more loved. He’s been on his own for most of his life, and not a single person has ever wanted to take care of him in the way that you do. 

Then there’s the matter of sex. 

Din physically cannot get enough of you, just as you cannot seem to get enough of him. The two of you have stayed up well past the child each night, spending a few hours together up in the cockpit enjoying each others bodies. As soon as the child is tucked away in the cot, Din is practically tearing the clothes from your body and the helmet from his head, ready to feel your walls clench around him and taste you on his lips once more. As the days go on he starts to slowly learn what makes you tick, and vice versa. Getting to know your sexuality quite intimately is something Din has begun to treasure. Aside from Xi’an, which was only a few times, this is the most he’s ever had sex with one person. The most he’s ever gotten to know another’s body so intimately, and vice versa. 

On the second night, you’d been the one to put the child to bed and Din had used the opportunity to strip down to just his helmet. The way you reacted to his naked form waiting in the pilot seat, legs spread with your blindfold already in his hands, is a reaction he’ll cherish for many years to come. 

On the third, it had been you who stripped down to nothing and waited in the pilot seat with your legs spread. One hand playing idly with one of your nipples while the other slid two fingers into your slick entrance, you’d made desperate little noises and begged him to take care of you. Hyperspace whirling behind you, it had truly been a sight to behold.

The theme of the fourth night had been exploration, when you’d grabbed his hand and brought it to your throat before begging him to choke you a little bit. Din was amazed by the reaction it caused in you, eyes rolling back in your head as your muscles clamped around him in mini bursts of intense pleasure. He’d been a little worried at first, but you seemed to adore the feeling of your air supply being partially cut off as he thrust into you at full force. The strangled noises you made had been indication enough, let alone how much you’d soaked him. Your entire body convulsed and twitched until he could tell you’d had enough and gently pulled his hand away. Then in a moment wanting to fulfill his own sexual fantasies, he’d grabbed the cuffs from his utility belt and asked for your permission to use them on you. With a gorgeously deviant smile playing at your lips, you’d agreed to this and Din could tell that he’d uncovered a similar dark desire within you.

The fifth night had been more loving and soft than the rough neediness of the night before. Both participants seemed to be in the mood to treat each other’s bodies with delicacy, gently bringing pleasure through the act of admiring one another. Dirty talk on that night sounded more like showers of doting compliments rather than lewd remarks and lustful demands. You’d declared to him in basic that you loved him so sincerely while at the peak of an orgasm, that Din know’s he’d been blushing. Heat in his cheeks and fluttering in his belly were unmistakable.

After you’ve had more than enough of each other, the two of you will retreat down to what Din now considers to be your shared bed. Cramped as it may be, there is no “taking turns” in the cot anymore. The two of you have slept in it together every night. The kid almost always makes his way down from his hammock to snuggle with the two of you. As much as it still scares him to admit it, the three of you truly do feel like a family. 

The only real problem with this current schedule, is that neither adult has been getting enough sleep. You in particular do not seem to be handling the lack of rest well, having looked so worn out during caf this morning that Din feels as if perhaps tonight a break will be in order. It would probably do the both of you better to just get a good night of sleep.

Din suddenly hears the familiar little sound of his foundling saying something that sounds like  “patu” from behind him, and he swivels the pilot’s seat fully expecting to see you standing there with the child in your arms. His gaze is pointed upwards, so when he doesn’t see you at all he tilts his head down to see that the child is standing in the center of the cockpit all alone. 

“Hey ad’ika, you okay? Did you climb up here all by yourself?”

The kid looks both unsettled and unwell, which raises the alarms in Din’s head. A small green hand reaches back to point to the door he just came in from and he makes another little “patu” sound. 

“Show me what’s wrong, buddy,” Din says as he rises from the chair, scooping the kid up in his arms.

Making his way down to the deck below the cockpit, Din can hear the unmistakable sound of your voice as it groans in pain. Tucked in his arm, the kid looks up at Din with worry in his dark eyes as he points again. This time he points to the fresher. 

Din’s eyes flick to that direction, where he finds you laying on the floor beside the toilet. Your eyes are open and you’re holding your stomach as you curl up on your side, face scrunched in discomfort.

Din puts the kid on a crate and comes to kneel beside you. “Cyar’ika? What’s wrong?”

“Sick,” you grumble out, face contorting as if struck by a sharp pain.

“Sick how?” 

“Fever, and I just threw up breakfast.”

“Shit,” Din curses, ripping a glove off and moving to place his hand on your damp forehead. Your skin is on fire. “When did this start?”

Struggling, you prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him. “When we woke up. My head was pounding and something didn’t feel right.” 

“Sounds like a stomach flu of some variety,” Din says matter of factly. You look at him with a shocked expression before laughing, and under the helmet his brow raises in surprise. “Why’s that funny?”

“I just figured you’d have a cooler name for it here. Ugh,” you stop to groan again, clutching at your belly, “I feel like ass.” 

“I’m sure you do.” Din chuckles a little when you glare at him, “What? I’m just acknowledging your pain.” 

“Make it go away,” you plead miserably. 

He feels truly bad for you, brushing the hair from your eyes as he cups your cheek. “I can give you bacta pills, but I’m worried you won’t be able to keep them down.”

“Yeah I don’t know if I can keep anything down right now.” 

Just as you say this, the kid makes a pained little noise from where Din left him, and the Mandalorian turns his head just in time to watch the kid vomit a sickly orange color all over the floor. He looks up at Din with weary eyes, wobbling until he falls back on his little bottom. Then he starts to cry.  

“Shit,” Din curses again, “If both of you have this it’s probably contagious.” 

“Go comfort him,” you say, “I’ll be okay for a moment.”

So Din moves over to the wailing green child, scooping him up to cradle him over the beskar chest plate. “Shh,” he soothes, “I’m here buddy. I know it hurts, but I’m here and I’ll take good care of you.” 

The child then looks up into Din’s hidden eyes and lets out a little sob before clinging to his foster father’s shoulder as hard as he possibly can. A fatherly feeling of warmth washes over Din Djarin, and his overwhelmed heart encapsulates this child so completely that his brown eyes fill with tears behind the beskar. Seeing his foundling like this, sickly and in pain, is heart wrenching.

And so Din makes quick work of making up what is essentially a sick room on the first floor of the ship. He gets a small bucket and sets it up for the kid to throw up in, then he sets up a comfortable little space for the two of you to lay together on the floor. Not wanting to risk either of you getting sick in the cot, he figures that the floor is probably the best option for now.

Once the two of you are as comfortable as you can be, he gets each of you water and insists that once the liquid can be kept down for a half hour he’ll give out doses of bacta pills. After treatment is given, the symptoms will be gone in two hours and the illness itself should completely go away within a twelve hour period.

At first you can’t even keep a sip of water down for longer than two minutes, rushing for the fresher as soon as the bile in your throat rises once again. Din rubs small circles into your back as you dry heave and cry. The kid can’t keep it down either, so Din spends a good part of his day rushing back and forth between the two of you as you each take turns vomiting up the minuscule contents of your respective stomachs.

The vomiting eventually starts to slow down to a halt, so he’s got you both laying down with cold compresses on each of your foreheads. The kid shivers so violently in the throws of his fever that Din decides to stick him in the shower under cold water for a few minutes. Poor little guy seems to be getting the worst of whatever this sickness is, possibly due to the difference in species or his young age. Afterwards Din has him wrapped up in a towel, cradling the child lovingly as he hums a Mandalorian chant. 

“Quit fussing over me,” you say as you later throw back the bacta pills, chasing them with a generous sip of water, “I’m an adult, Din. I’ll be fine after these kick in and I go to sleep. Take care of our sweet little boy. I appreciate you so much, but he needs you more than I do right now.’ 

Soon enough you’re passed out in the cot, and Din is left alone with the sick little child in his arms. Redressed, full of bacta, and wrapped up in the blanket, the kid is also finally starting to fall asleep. 

“I’m so glad that you came into my life, ad’ika,” Din finds himself whispering to the sleepy child, “You’ve changed me for the better, kid. No matter what happens, I want you to know how important you are to me.”

The child seems to understand this, smiling up at him as his huge eyes slip closed. A little hand reaches out, so Din lets him hold onto his bare index finger until he falls asleep. Once the kid is out cold, Din gently places him next to you inside the cot. Sitting on the ground just outside of the open sleeping chamber, Din finally feels his shoulders begin to relax. Jupiter appears out of nowhere then, jumping into his lap to rub her neck along the beskar on Din’s chest as she purrs. Scooping her up, Din takes comfort in the vibrations of her purring while she lets him hold her and stroke at her head.

And then Din feels it. Chills all over his body, and waves of nausea low in his belly. The back of his throat starts to heat up, mouth watering. In record time Din is closing himself in the fresher, tearing the helmet from his head as he curses, “dank farrik,” before emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

*****

A few days later, once everyone is no longer sick aboard the Space RV, you find yourself examining your naked form in the fresher after taking a quick shower. Training with Din had been particularly vigorous today, and the need for hot water on your skin was completely necessary. You felt great going from what was essentially a hard workout session to a what was about to be a relaxing shower, but you when you caught a glimpse of your reflection while undressing, something in you shifted. You can’t get it out of your head enough to enjoy the heat and the steam, so once you’re out and clean you wipe down the fogged up mirror for another glimpse at yourself. 

Moving towards the mirror above the sink, you frown at your body’s reflection. Swiveling to examine your thighs and ass, your gaze starts shifting up to your stomach, and then to your breasts. You stop there for a moment and feel them, wondering why in the hell a man like Din Djarin finds them so attractive. Why he finds any part of you attractive. 

Leaning forward, you take a good look at your face. Poking here and here, pushing your cheeks up before dragging them back down under your palms. Smiling, frowning, sighing. Then your hands move to the still purple hair atop your head, a little longer now that many weeks have past since you’d gotten it cut. You’d wanted to change your look drastically, almost as if in some way to erase the version of you from before. Now you’re used to the alteration, but a part of you worries that the dramatic shift in appearance had been a mistake. Do you actually look as good as you thought you did or had that been in your head?

It’s not lost on you that your period is only about a day or two around the corner. Your breasts are sore, you’d felt as much just a moment ago, and your body feels incredibly bloated. Weighed down, even. The sudden change in mood after a good day is also a major indication.

“Ugh, just get over it and move on. You’ll feel better once you start to bleed,” you say to yourself quietly. This isn’t the first time that a long bout of confidence has been rivaled by the hormones of your monthly cycle, and you know that listening to your own advice is the best bet. Reaching for your change of clothes, you find that they are not hanging on the hook that you usually use. Looking around the room, its quite obvious that you’d forgotten to bring anything to change into with you to the fresher. 

“Fucking seriously?” You mutter, irritated as you begin to wrap up in a towel. As the moments tick on you are growing increasingly annoyed by your own presence. 

The fresher door slides open when you hit the little control pad to the right harder than you mean to, hissing as you shake your hand and poke your head out of the passageway. Coast clear, you rush over to where you keep your clothes in a compartment by the cot and start rummaging around for something comfortable to wear. 

“What are you doing?” 

The Mandalorian’s voice is suddenly behind you and you jump, nearly dropping the towel all together. The last thing you want is him to see you naked while you feel so uncomfortable. 

“I forgot my clothes,” you say awkwardly, not turning around to face him just yet. You even pretend to pick through the small amount of clothing you own for an extra few moments after finding what you want to wear. 

“Are you okay, Cyar’ika?” Din moves in closer to you, so you finally turn to face him.

Standing there looking as he always does in his beskar armor, which is handsome as hell, you feel even less confident. “I’ll be fine,” you say, avoiding his gaze. Even though you can’t see it, you know it’s fixed upon you.

“Something is wrong. I can see it in your eyes,” he says confidently, looking you over. 

Feeling him look you up and down makes your skin want to crawl right off of your skeleton. “I’m fine,” you repeat, firmly this time. 

Din then says your name in a vulnerable tone, “I don’t think you are. Have I transgressed in some way?” 

“No, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Then please let me help.” 

“I’ll just go get dressed.” You try to push past him and he stops you with an arm out. He’s careful not to touch you, at least that’s how it comes across. 

Din’s voice shifts octaves as he speaks to you very tenderly. There is no firmness to the tone, only gentle support from your partner. “We do not pull away from one another, remember? We talk about it.” 

Damn him for quoting you back to yourself, because once he says that you realize that he’s completely right. If you expect him not to shut you out then you owe him the same courtesy. With a great sigh, you squeeze your eyes shut for a moment before opening them again as you tell him, “I don’t feel very attractive right now.” 

“Huh?” Din says, clearly confused. 

“I feel gross and unattractive,” you say, using additional language to further your statement along.

“But you are neither of those things,” he replies matter of factly, tilting his head. 

“Ugh,” you groan as this back and forth becomes tedious, “I didn’t say I was. I said I feel like I am.”

Din’s silence worries you for the prolonged moment that it exists, and then he surprises you with the commanding tone he occasionally uses during sex, “Take the towel off.” 

“What? Why? Where’s the kid?”

“Sleeping upstairs,” Din answers quickly, “Let it drop, and let me remind you that you are ner mesh’la.” 

“I’m not in the mood for that,” you say firmly.

“This is not about sex. This is about worship,” Din matches your firmness.

After a moment of hesitation, the towel drops from your person. Being in the main living space of the Razor Crest like this feels alien. It feels even stranger when Din slides the gloves from his hands and moves to stand in front of you. His fingertips gently rest upon the curves where your shoulders end and your arms begin. Instinctively, a hand starts to reach up for him and he shakes his head.

“Hands down. Chin up. Eyes on me.” Din adjusts you to stand a little straighter, better posture in your neck as you look at him. A finger comes to rest under your chin as you position your eyes to look directly into the black visor. In your mind you’re trying to imagine the brown eyes on the other side of the beskar barrier, locking onto them.

The pads of his fingertips being to gently sweep over your skin, touching all over as he makes his way around your upper half. It feels so good and you’re barely being touched. Lids trying to slip closed as little sparks of pleasure find you, a shudder runs through your body. Through every sensation, you keep your eyes locked on him.

Din leans in slightly, brushing beskar against your forehead. “Tell me something you don’t like about yourself, and I will tell you why I love it.”

And so you do. You run over the entire list of things you’ve had a problem with since your teen years. Superficial little things that don’t truly matter or take away from your natural beauty, but things you wish you could change nonetheless. Din responds to each of these small grievances by ghosting his hands over the area, describing what about it he finds so endearing. 

By the end of this worshiping of your form, Din is again standing at full height with his hands on your shoulders. His left hand slides down your right arm, taking your hand and moving it towards his tented groin.

Before you can say anything, the Mandalorian quells any worries of his intentions, “I do not wish to do anything, but I want you to feel what you do to me. Feel how much my body yearns to be connected to yours. Yooba solus mesh’la, ner cyare.” 

His hardness beneath your hand causes none of the heat to rise in your core or wanting in your mind. It serves it’s intended purpose, to solidify everything that Din just said to you. Every compliment, every kind remark. All for you and all real. Tangible. So many emotions flood your system after such an experience, and you feel even more spent than you would if you’d had sex with him after all. Leaning most of your weight onto him, it feels like you may collapse if he were to move away from you. Cramps are starting to swell down in your belly, waves of pain and physical exhaustion rolling through you.

“Thank you, ner burc’ya. Have I told you that you’re my favorite person?” 

“Not in those exact words,” Din sounds so playful, and your heart swells for him.

“Oh,” tittering, you turn your head so that your mouth is positioned right under the edge of his helmet, “Well, you’re my favorite person, Din Djarin.”

“Mm,” Din’s hum greets your ears, sounding almost like it does when you’re blindfolded because of how close you are to the lip of beskar. 

Then a small little panic attack tries to break through the sense of calm Din just helped you achieve, body quivering. “I really need my best friend right now. What you just did helped, but I’m still not okay.” 

With his metal clad forehead pressed to your bare one, Din offers little shushing noises of comfort, “I’m here. I’ve got you. Get dressed, let me go get the kid, and I will hold you in our bed.” 

*****

The following week it finally occurs to you why things with Din are so different to you. You’re mulling this over during the morning caf routine, mixing the bitter but sweet hot beverage as you think about how it feels like things between the two of you are moving incredibly fast.  Din’s treating you as if you’ve been together for a significant amount of time. Like a spouse, one might say. Oddly enough, you conclude that you’re also very okay with it. 

That’s when it hits you. It’s because on Earth you would have had to jump through all of the awkward, uncomfortable hoops of dating before a relationship would have ever progressed this far. Months worth of time, if not more, would have been spent trying to figure out if the two of you were even a good match for each other. Putting on airs to impress one another, fumbling through weird social situations, fitting time in for each other between careers and personal lives. 

Here, in the galaxy, dating doesn’t seem like a concept that makes any sense. Not with a nomadic Mandalorian, at least. Just saying in your head sounds fucking silly. If you had never come to live on his ship, care for his foundling, and ultimately become his close friend, Din probably would have never considered you in that way. You’ve known him for nearly half a year at this point, lived with him for nearly half a year. Aside from the hunts he would leave you behind for, almost every single day in that six month period has been spent in the presence of one another. With him, this must be a very significant thing. Din Djarin seems very much the type that would not jump into something frivolous. He only feels comfortable being like this with you because there is real trust and love involved. 

You’ve never experienced anything even close to this in your life. Not a single time. Any boyfriend back on Earth had either been an aloof dick, or a sex hungry moron. You’ve never taken the time to truly become friends with someone prior to dating them. 

So yeah, things have been hot and heavy with your Mandalorian while somehow also being the most meaningful emotional connection you’ve likely ever had or ever will have. The kind you used to pine for when you’d stay up all night reading romance stories only to just bum yourself out the next day. With Din it’s like you’re getting to have your cake and eat it too. 

“Din, caf’s ready!” You call up to the cockpit. When he doesn't answer you frown and call for him again. He still doesn’t answer, so you make your way up the ladder, forsaking the steaming cups of caf down in the galley. 

When you reach the top and make your way into the cockpit, the sight before your eyes stops you in your tracks. 

Din’s flying the ship with the kid in his lap, and he’s bobbing his silver head as he lightly sings to himself. What gets you, is that you can see the white chords of your headphones sticking out from under the base of his helmet and that you know exactly what song he’s singing to himself. When you step further into the room, you see that the kid is holding the iPad in his little green claws. Din doesn’t notice your presence at all, in fact he starts to sing even louder as it would seem that he’s getting into it. 

Clearly, he’s been stealing your iPad and listening to your music. For how long, you couldn’t even guess. Long enough to for him to learn the words to one of your favorite nü metal songs, as he’s been singing it correctly this whole time. The biggest grin stretches across your features, heart melting as you hear your Mandalorian’s beautiful baritone singing the chorus of Aerials by System of a Down. 

Not wanting to disturb him, you listen for a moment before you turn to go back downstairs. But then the kid notices you, making little noises of excitement as he waves his right hand at you. 

Din sees this, and stops singing to turn around and look at you. He pulls on one of the chords attached to his ears, and you watch as the little white bud falls out from under the helmet to limply lay across his beskar chest plate. 

“Hi,” you greet them, moving in to close the distance between you and your two favorite boys.

“Hi,” Din replies, reaching a gloved hand out to graze over your hip before leaning his head on the same area and wrapping his arm around your thighs. 

Turning your attention to the child, you reach a hand down to stroke his head. “Hey Green Bean. You want breakfast, buddy?” 

The kid nods his head and reaches up for you, so you scoop him up in your arms. Din chuckles and sits back up straight. “If he ever says no to food, we should be worried.”

“True. So… looks like you’ve developed a taste for Earth music,” chuckling, you grin down at Din.

“Some of it is very pleasant to the ear,” he agrees, gesturing to the iPad in his lap. “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve taken the liberty.”

You shake your head, telling him, “Exchanging cultural information with each other is never something I will mind. You’re welcome to use that thing whenever you want to. If I’m learning all about the life of a Mandalorian, it’s only fitting that you learn about the life of an Earthling. Use up all the battery and it’s your responsibility to charge it, though.” 

Din chuckles, “Fair enough.” 

*****

It isn’t until your group arrives that you truly realize how unbearably hot Tatooine is going to be. With twin suns (a concept you had yet to consider until Din had explained it to you) heating it’s vast desert surface, the planet is sure to be stifling during the day. Risk of not only sunburn but severe skin damage is an issue, and the planet is supposed to be chilly at night, so wearing shorts and a tank top isn’t really an option. You’re forced to wear the thick clothes you normally need out in space, and you know that you’re going to be drenched in sweat within the first hour. How Din can manage these conditions covered in armor you will never know. 

“I have to warn you,” Din says as the hatch begins to open, “Peli is a trusted friend, but she is a little… eccentric.”

“I can get down with eccentric,” You reply, laughing at Din when you realize he’s confused by your phrasing. You don’t bother to explain, grinning up at your cosmic companion.

He simply shakes his head and begins making his way down the ramp. You can hear a woman’s voice speaking to a group of small droids, and when you exit the ship you are greeted with the sight of a short little lady who looks to be in her late fifties or early sixties. She’s got a wild mane of dark curly hair, either no eyebrows or ones that are very faint, and she’s wearing a dark red jumpsuit much like the ones mechanics wear back on Earth.

“May as well let them have at it. The Crest needs a good once over,” Din says as he reaches the bottom of the ramp, turning back to take a look at the ship’s outer hull. 

“Oh,” the woman says with her arms splayed out as she looks over the small group of intelligent robots, “so he likes droids now. You heard him! Give it a once over!” 

As you make your way down the ramp, smiling as you watch Din avoid the little droids running by him, Peli finally stops to realize that Mando did not travel to Tatooine alone. She looks you up and down, and then back to Din with her non-existent brows raised. 

“Who’s that?” The engineer asks skeptically, jabbing a thumb in your direction.

“This is my companion,” Din replies. Your heart is ready to burst from your chest upon hearing him say that. You hadn’t expected him to announce you in such a way, which indicates to you that he truly views this woman as a trusted friend. He tells Peli your name, and you nod to the woman as he does so. 

“Nice to meet you, Peli,” you say politely. 

“Yeah yeah, likewise,” she waves at you almost dismissively before squinting at the Mandalorian, “Since when do you have a companion? You never came off as the romantic type, Mando. I guess a lot has changed since you were last in Mos-” 

In what you assume is an effort to save himself from having to explain further, Din pulls his satchel out in front of him to reveal the green child nestled inside of it to Peli. She cheers with her hands in the air and the kid makes happy little noises upon recognizing her. Din holds the satchel out to her and she begins peeling the kid from the bag, practically forgetting that you exist.

“Oh thank the force! This little thing has had me worried sick! Come here you little womp rat.” Peli holds him out in front of her as the green baby makes little noises up at her. “Huh! Looks like it remembers me. How much do you want for it? Just kidding, but not really. You know if this thing ever divides or buds, I will gladly pay for the offspring.”

Your eyebrows raise as you look over to Din, who shrugs at you in a silent response. He wasn’t kidding when he called her eccentric. Just then a loud clanking noise comes from the Razor Crest behind you, and Peli turns to yell at her droids.

“HEY! Oh jeez. Watch what you’re doing up there! He barely trusts your kind. You want to give all droids a bad name? Thank you!” 

Din interjects then, “I’m here on business. I need your help.”

Peli nods, “Ah, well then business you shall have. Care for me to watch this wrinkled critter while you seek out adventure?” 

“I’ve been quested to bring this one back to it’s kind,” he explains.

The Tatooine resident rocks the child a little as she replies, “Oh wow. I can’t help you there. I’ve never seen any like it. And trust me, I’ve seen all shapes and sizes in this town.”  

Din explains why your group is there, and why finding another Mandalorian is necessary to navigate through the various hidden coverts in order to chart a path. She argues that he’s the only Mando that’s been on Tatooine for years, and he asks her about Mos Pelgo. 

An old beat up droid named R5 wheels out to display a map of Tatooine, and Peli explains to Din why Mos Pelgo, an old mining settlement, isn’t on any of the maps while pointing out its general vicinity. She then points out that the Space RV is basically going to stick out like a sore thumb, so Din asks if she still has her speeder bike. 

Obliging, Peli gets the bike out for your group to borrow. You’re both surprised and not surprised that it’s basically a motorcycle that hovers off the ground. While Din is preparing it or travel, the odd little woman takes the opportunity to approach you as you’re surveying the odd little desert workshop.

“So how in the hell does a pretty girl like you end up as Mando’s companion? What does that even mean for a guy like him?” 

Looking at her, you smile a little, “It’s a long story. The short version of it is that I needed transport and he needed help with the child so we exchanged services. The rest of it, the companionship, just kind of fell into place on it’s own. No one was searching for it when we met.”

“Ah, as it usually does with those things,” Peli nods, chuckling a little as she throws you a knowing glance. You briefly wonder how many dalliances this woman has had in her day. “I just would have never pegged him as the sort to get involved with another. You seem very sweet, and he’s always been so… grumpy.” 

“He’s still a huge grump,” you laugh, glancing over in his direction to see him working so diligently to make sure that the bike is drivable and that there are enough provisions packed to last a few days. Watching his armored body move around with precision is mesmerizing. The way he tilts his head, squatting down to adjust something at the back end of the bike. Each movement is worth admiring. Eventually, though, you stop ogling him and tun back to Peli, “but sometimes I get to see a side of him that he doesn't show to anyone else in the galaxy.” 

“And you don’t care that he’ll never take that beskar helmet off in front of you?”

“Nope,” you reply honestly, blushing as your mind wanders to the night before when he’d made you cum twice in one sitting as you laid there with your blindfold on. You plan to take his almost nightly tasting of you to the grave at this point, knowing full well that Din upholds his privacy just as much as his creed. 

“Must be the real thing, then. I’ve only known him for a short while, but I’m glad to see that he’s got someone who cares about him,” Peli says sincerely, “Everyone deserves that.” 

“I couldn’t agree more,” you reply, noticing that Din seems to be ready to go. “And I hope that you find or have already found that for yourself. You’re a nice woman, I’m glad that I got to meet you today.” 

“Likewise,” Peli agrees with a nod, handing the child over to you. She hasn’t let go of him since Din let her take him and that was nearly an hour ago. You appreciate the fact that she seems to genuinely love your little green bean so much. The kid is popular, you’ll give him that.

Walking up to Din, you see that he’s secured the satchel onto the back of the speeder. Handing the child over, you watch as Din puts the child down in the leather bag before climbing onto the back end of the speeder’s long seat. On Earth you would have never climbed onto the back of a motorcycle willingly. Even with a driver you trust, those things always felt like glorified death traps. But here on a planet called Tatooine? With Din? Climbing onto the back of the speeder feels like a no brainer. Like going off with Din Djarin on an adventure is the easiest decision in the world.

*****

Finding Mos Pelgo ends up taking a lot longer than you thought it would. It feels like you’re clinging to Din on that speeder bike for the better part of the long day. He stops a few times so that everyone can get a bathroom break, and you find out that being a woman and peeing in the middle of a hot desert is not fun. Staying hydrated is key in a place like this, but that also means frequent needs to relieve full bladders.

Eventually the three of you stumble upon a small group of locals that Din informs you are called Tusken Raiders. These people are clad head to toe in lightly colored fabric and wear interesting looking face coverings.

“Let me do the talking,” Din says as you detach from his back and climb off the bike. 

“I was planning on it,” you reply, amused with your cosmic companion. Picking the baby up, you hold him to your hip and offer him a sip of water. The child slurps it up happily, seeming mostly unbothered by the heat.

You, on the other hand, come from a colder region of Earth where the winters are filled with snow and sub-zero temperatures and the summers are gorgeously mild. Being cold is your least favorite feeling in the world, but the heat on Tatooine is borderline too much for you with the amount of clothing you have on. It seems as if nightfall will be approaching soon, but even still it’s hot as hell on this planet. Luckily the eye protection Peli let you borrow is helping with how bright everything is, but damn if two suns isn’t one too many. 

The Tusken Raiders begin speaking to Din in a language that you can only describe as throaty high pitched noises and gurgles, with what appears to be some kind of sign language thrown into the mix. When Din starts speaking the language back to them, you nearly choke on your own sip of water. It doesn’t even sound like his voice, the noises coming from his modulator are so foreign to you. But, in an attempt to be polite you try not to react in a way that would come off as if you are being judgmental. 

Din gestures back to you and the kid as he speaks, and the Tuskens all turn their heads to look at you. Feeling as if you should do something, you come to stand beside your Mandalorian and smile at them with a bow of the head. 

“I do not speak your language, but it’s nice to meet all of you,” you offer, just in case one of them knows basic. The kid seems to also get the picture, waving at all of them.

One seems to understand you, also bowing their head politely. Din nods at you in approval, so apparently your decision to say that was the right one. As the conversation continues, eventually they offer your group a spot at the small campfire and some of the food they are preparing once the twin suns begin to set. 

All they seem to be cooking is some kind of indistinguishable meat, and as much as it pains you to have to do so, you very politely eat a portion of it. Then you are offered a strange, unpleasant smelling fruit from which you are expected to drink it’s juice. With a grimace, you slurp the nasty liquid down. It’s not as bad as it smells, but it’s definitely not something you would ever seek out to taste again. Once finished, you offer them a kind smile and a nod, and all of the Tuskens seem to be pleased with your appreciation of their culture. 

One even leans over to Din, elbowing him slightly as he says something in his native tongue. Din laughs in response, head turning to face you as he speaks back in Tusken. 

“What was that about?” You ask later, as the three of you try to get comfortable by the fire. Days may be hot as hell on Tatooine but, true to deserts back on Earth, the night is very chilly. 

The Tuskens have mostly gone off to sleep in their tents or curled up in the warmth of a bantha. Apparently this small group is in the midst of travel themselves, being on their way to join the rest of their tribe at their village. Luckily they are well aware of Mos Pelgo, and have pointed Din in the right direction. By first light the three of you will be back on the speeder bike in search of this rogue Mandalorian once again. 

“Hm?” Din asks after a moment.

“When the Tusken made you laugh and you looked right at me.” 

“Oh,” Din turns is head towards you, “He said that it was too bad that you’re my woman because you would make a fine wife.” 

“I would make an excellent wife,” you agree with a smirk, playing it cool as your heart skips a beat. You’ve always wanted to be a wife, to be tethered to another for the rest of your life. Having a husband is the most romantic thing you can think of, so just hearing Din even say the word wife makes you feel all giddy regardless of the fact that you’re no where near ready to consider something like that with him. It’s no more than a nice thought in this early stage of the relationship. “Why did that make you laugh, though?” 

“Well he also said it looks like you know your way around a bedchamber. He meant it as a compliment. I didn't know what to say to that, so I just laughed.”

“What?!” You whisper yell, smacking the part of his arm that is not covered in indestructible metal. The kid is sound asleep between you, so you’re careful not to wake him. “Why is that funny?”

Din’s reply is very matter of fact even as he chuckles, “It’s not funny, it’s just true.” 

“Hm,” your eyes narrow playfully, “We’ll see who’s laughing when we get back to our bedchamber, Chrome Dome.”

*****

The following morning Din wakes up just as the twin suns are beginning to rise, the planet’s surface already feeling a good ten or fifteen degrees warmer than it had when he’d drifted off to sleep. You’re still snoring in his arms, and the kid is curled up next to your face. Sleeping on a blanket in the sand hadn’t been exactly comfortable, but Din is pleased that his aliit managed to find rest. 

Cramped as it may be, he misses the comfort of the cot on the Razor Crest. Sleeping with you pressed against him is his newly preferred way disengage from consciousness each night. Holding you in his arms as his tired brain replays all of the lewd sexual acts that had just been committed up in the cockpit, or listening to the sweet nothings you whisper to him as you fall asleep.

When he told you that the Tusken had made the comment about you being a good candidate for a wife, Din hadn’t been entirely honest with you. He hadn’t really laughed just because the Tusken made the reference to sex. Din had laughed because of the wife statement. The exact same thought has been on his mind for the last few days, and he told the Tusken as much knowing that you could not understand. 

Having a riduur was never something Din ever concerned himself with prior to meeting you. Perhaps once or twice as a young man the thought of finding a wife one day had been appealing, but that had been many cycles ago. Once he hit his mid thirties and had pretty much come to terms with his perpetual solitude, the idea of a spouse just seemed especially childish and incredibly far off from his lifestyle. It wasn’t until the Armorer brought it up during their brief meeting on Nevarro that he’d even thought about it where you are concerned. Things hadn’t progressed enough with you for it to be in consideration yet.

Din Djarin never expected a family, an aliit, to fall into his lap the way that this one has. Now that he’s had a glimpse of what life is like with you by his side, the word wife has been floating around in his mind more and more frequently. He doesn’t plan to address this any time soon, but the simple fact remains that the idea of marriage is suddenly more feasible for Din than it had been six months ago. 

Din just lays there for a moment, watching you. Watching your chest rise and fall. Watching the curve of your lips tugging upward. Watching your eyes move behind your lids as you dream. He imagines introducing you to others as his wife, to the Mandalorians of his covert as his riduur. He imagines bestowing you with a betrothal weapon and asking for you to join his clan permanently. He imagines your voice as you take the vow to be his for the rest of your lives. Clan Mudhorn could become a clan of three, and truthfully the thought of it causes Din’s chest to swell as his stomach does a somersault in his belly. 

Part of him already considers you to be a part of his clan, but he knows that you also deserve the right to choose what path you would like your life to take. Eventually, if things continue in this direction and when the time seems right, Din plans to ask you this significant question. Until that time comes, however, he will enjoy the courtship between you and the sensations of peace that it stirs within him. It may not always feel like this, so enjoying it while it lasts seems like the only logical thing to do. 

Your breathing pattern changes a little then, face contorting into one of dismay. Lips parting, a little noise escapes you that sounds both pained and fearful. A nightmare seems to have found your subconscious. This doesn’t occur nightly, but Din has awakened to you in the throws of a nightmare twice now. Apparently this happens to you from time to time, and most of the nightmares you have tend to be hyper-realistic representations of past traumatic events in your life. He’s learned that there is only one good way to help you wake up from it and avoid a panic.

“S’not my fault,” you mumble, body beginning to twitch around. 

Din places a gloved hand to you face, “Shh, Cyar’ika. It’s only a dream. You are here with me and our foundling on Tatooine. We camped with Tusken Raiders last night. You are safe.”  

Voice hoarse, your eyes blink a few times at him and a hand finds his wrist. “Din?”

“I’m here. Nightmare?”

“Yes,” your breathing starts to return to a normal rhythm as you clutch him, “about my parents this time.”

“It was only a dream. Whatever happened is in the past,” Din soothes. This worked the last time, and it seems to be doing the trick as your body’s tension lessens.

Just then the kid wakes up, blinking up at his adults as a tiny yawn escapes him. Holding the small green child even tighter to your chest, Din can see a few tears rolling down your cheeks as you squeeze him.

“I’ll never treat you the way they treated me,” you whisper to him, “As long as you’re with me, all you’re ever going to feel is love and understanding, my little green bean. I love you so much, buddy.”

*****

Another long, hot ride on the speeder bike later and a tiny little town finally comes into view. With maybe a dozen buildings on the one short strip, this has got to be the tiniest town you’ve ever seen in your life. It looks like something out of an old black and white western and as if your observation isn’t already spot on, you find yourself following Din what into what is clearly a saloon. 

Inside, an alien behind the bar who sort of reminds you of the creature from Jeepers Creepers, asks if he can help your traveling party. 

“I’m looking for a Mandalorian,” Din says, hands on the bar as he leans forward. 

“We don’t get many visitors in these parts. Can you describe him?” 

You try not to chuckle as Din sounds vaguely annoyed. “Someone who looks like me.”

The man seems to understand. “Oh, you mean the Marshall?

“Your Marshall wears Mandalorian armor?” 

“See for yourself,” the bartender gestures towards the door of the saloon, and both you and Din turn your heads to see a skinny figure approaching the establishment wearing what is most definitely Mandalorian armor. 

It’s beat up to hell, and you’re shocked to see that this armor is decorated with various colors of paint. The idea of Mandalorians personalizing their equipment never occurred to you until now, and when you look over Din’s own sleek design you realize that it is an intentional choice. You’d assumed they all look shiny like Din. The silver fits him so well, and it occurs to you how much it actually fits his personality.

“What brings you here, strangers?” The Marshall asks, a certain twang in his voice only furthering along the old western comparison. 

“I’ve been searching for you for many parsecs,” Din explains. 

“Well, now you found me.” The Marshall walks up to the bar and orders a bottle of blue liquor and three cups, taking them over to a nearby table as he offers you and Din a drink. Then, to your complete surprise, the Marshall takes his helmet off and places it on the table. He’s a handsome enough middle aged man, with neatly combed gray hair and a beard.

Din stops dead in his tracks as the man speaks. “I’ve never met a real Mandalorian. Heard stories,” the stranger pours the drinks, smirking up at the two of you, “I know you’re good at killin’, and probably none too happy seeing me wearing this hardware. So, I figure, only one of us is walkin’ outta here. But then I see the little guy and the fine lady standing behind you, and I think maybe I pegged you wrong.” 

“Who are you?” Din asks, voice on edge.

“I’m Cobb Vanth, Marshall of Mos Pelgo.” He tips his drink to Din before taking a sip. 

“Where did you get the armor?”

“Bought it off some Jawas.” 

Din’s tone is even but firm, “Hand it over.” 

“Look pal, I’m sure you call the shots where you come from but round here I’m the one who 

tells folks what to do.” 

“Take it off, or I will.” Din takes a threatening step forward.

Vanth points to where the kid is standing by a ceramic pot on the floor. “We gonna do this in front of the kid?” 

Din nods his head, and the way he says the next few words makes something in your core shift, “He’s seen worse.” 

God, he’s so fucking sexy when he’s in Mando mode. But, you’d rather not see a bloodbath today so you step forward as Cobb begins to stand. “Perhaps there is a way you boys can solve this peacefully, though.”

Just as Din turns to look at you as if to say, “Really?”, the ground begins to shake violently as if in the throws of an earthquake. 

Everyone runs out of the saloon just in time to see the sand moving like a great creature is moving around beneath the surface. It reminds you of movies like Tremors and Dune, and to your horror a huge creature is exactly what it turns out to be. The sand peaks move towards the bantha tied to a post just outside of town, and suddenly a great mouth opens up to swallow the poor thing whole. Between your ankles, the kid makes a scared little noise and hides his eyes against your leg. 

After that, Cobb Vanth explains that his town is in need of help with the creature and that perhaps they can come to an arrangement about the armor. If Din helps him kill it, he’ll give Din his armor. Ever true to his Mandalorian creed, Din takes Vanth up on the proposal so the beskar can be back in its rightful place among his people.

As the boys discuss why Din can’t just fly over with the Razor Crest and blow the thing to shit, you look down at the green baby in your arms and feel the tiniest bit of relief that Vanth is not a real Mandalorian. This means that instead of being one step closer to giving up the kid, your makeshift family is now taking an unexpected detour which is will only serve to prolong your time together. 

Back on the speeder bike, now your group is traveling with the Marshall through the desert as he rides along on his own odd looking bike. His looks like its made of the parts of multiple vehicles, thrown together by some crazy mechanic. You’re willing to bet that it might be Peli’s handiwork, despite knowing only a little bit about her.

During the ride, he regales you and Din with the story of how he got the armor and how he came to be the Marshall of Mos Pelgo. You grow a little bit of a soft spot for the man as he talks lovingly of his home town and the people in it for which he cares a great deal. You’ve never had a sense of community in that way, and it makes sense to you why Cobb is so desperate to keep it in tact. 

Eventually the group comes to a sharp angled rocky outcropping in the sand, Cobb leading everyone into the thin valley between the steep peaks. After about a half a mile, a loud noise can be heard and both speeders skid to a halt, the men both hopping off of their bikes to ready a weapon. Din grabs his rifle and pulls you down to crouch beside him on the ground. Raising your own blaster in the same direction, you try to ready yourself for a fight. The kid hides down in Din’s brown satchel. 

The noises get louder, and suddenly a dog-like reptilian creature approaches from the other side of a rock. Din’s rifle lowers a little, even as two others appear. He puts the weapon down all together, and Cobb looks at him in shock as Din begins approaching the animals. 

A little smile finds your lips as he begins speaking Tusken to the creatures which you learned the night before are called massiffs. As Din slowly moves towards them saying who knows what, the massiffs’ moods seem to change completely. So you watch as your mandalorian kneels down to pet one and scratch at it’s scaly neck as if the thing were a friendly golden retriever. 

Then the Tuskens appear, a different group then the ones you met the night before but likely from the same tribe. Din speaks to them a little, and Cobb leans over to speak to you.

Clearly he’s shocked by how civil the exchange between the Mandalorian and the Tuskens is. “Your fella’s quite the diplomat, ain’t he?” 

“He’s just a good man,” you say honestly, shrugging as you feel the weight of your words in your chest. It’s the truest statement you could have made, resonating with you that he’s the best man you’ve had in your life besides your grandfather. “He’s a bounty hunter and a Mandalorian warrior, but at the end of the day he's just as good at helping people as he is at killing them.”

Vanth nods, seeming to be alright with this answer. “How’d you end up by his side, if you don’t mind me askin’?” 

You chuckle, grabbing the kid from the satchel to hold him on your hip. “This little green bean, actually. I joined the Mandalorian to provide extra care for the child.”

“He’s a cute little fella, that’s for sure,” Vanth says, reaching out to wiggle a finger in front of the kid’s nose. “For what it’s worth, odd of a mix as it is, the three of ya make sense in a strange sort of way.”

Heart swelling, you nod at him in appreciation as you grin, “Thank’s, Marshall.” 

“You can call me Cobb, Ma’am.”

*****

After Cobb successfully makes a dick out of himself around the blazing campfire of the Tusken village and Din has to put out the metaphorical flames of the situation with the real ones of his flamethrower, the sand people inform Din that they have set up a small tent for you. But only for you. 

“What? Why just me?” You ask, confused. A shiver runs through you as the night becomes increasingly colder, the thought of being enclosed in a tent sounding pretty great right about now. 

Din explains, “The Tuskens are showing hospitality. They appreciate women in their culture, and since you have treated them with such respect both last night and today, they have prepared a tent so that you do not have to sleep in the conditions of the desert. Because we are not married, I cannot join you nor can the kid. We’ll sleep by the fire with Cobb, but if you decline this offer they will be greatly offended.” 

“Oh,” you say, eyebrows jolting upwards, “well I guess I can’t say no then. Too bad you guys can’t snuggle with me.”

“Soon enough, Cyare,” Din says quietly, knocking his head gently into yours.

And so you later find yourself trying to get comfortable in the small tent, feeling odd being in the surroundings of a completely foreign culture. Although the Tuskens are a nomadic people and never stay in the same place for very long, they’ve managed to make the interior of their non-permanent homes quite cozy. A few tapestries are hung up, and the ground level bed is far more comfortable than you expect it to be. The thick animal skin that makes up the sturdy tent walls does a good job of keeping the thing closed off from the outside. Once you douse the lights, everything in the tent is pitch black. 

Eventually you’re able to drift off to sleep for a while, until you suddenly awaken to a palm covering your mouth. Body going into survival mode, you start to thrash around and yell behind your attacker’s palm. That is, until you hear who it is.

“Shh, Cyar’ika. It’s me,” Din’s modulated voice is speaking to you in the darkness. You can barely see a thing, unable to find him until your hands land on his armor plated chest. His bare hand slowly lifts from your lips, allowing you to speak again.

“What are you doing in here?!” You whisper-yell, shoving at the beskar above your hands. “If the Tuskens catch you, won’t they be pissed?” 

“The Tuskens aren’t going to catch me,” he whispers back confidently, “I’ll be back in front of the fire before anyone gets up.” 

“What about the kid?” 

“He’s sleeping right by Cobb. I wouldn’t have left him alone.” 

The hand that had been covering your mouth is now snaking down past your stomach, below the fabric of your underwear. You’d taken your heavy pants off in order to sleep comfortably, having no access to the light stretchy pants you have back on the ship.

“You’re a maniac,” you giggle, back arching as his index finger slips between your delicate  folds. A shiver runs through you and you have to force back the little moan that wants to escape from the confines of your throat. 

“Perhaps,” Din agrees with a low chuckle.

Your hands find the helmet and come to rest at the back of his neck. “So what’s the plan here, Chrome Dome?” 

“The plan is I fuck you a little bit, and then I go back to the fire as if nothing happened at all,” he says matter of factly. 

“You really do love using that word now, don’t you?”

“Only when it’s appropriate.” 

In the same instant that the last syllable leaves his lips, the finger teasing you slips inside of your already moistening slit. It’s all you can do to not make loud, lewd noises as it enters you. 

“Fuck,” you hiss as quietly as you can, “is it bad that the prospect of being caught is a turn on?”

Din chuckles, “Why do you think I’m in here right now?” 

“Mm,” you hum, “So Din Djarin is kinkier than we thought.” 

“Enough talking,” Din says in that commanding tone that makes you weak in the knees. Then his finger vanishes, and your underwear is being yanked from your legs. He brings his hand up to your lips, and you eagerly pull the finger that had been inside you into your mouth as you lap up your own wetness.

When the finger disappears again, the unmistakeable sound of Din’s own trousers being unfastened comes next, followed by the feeling of his hands spreading your legs apart. He’s fully clothed, and you realize that until now he’s yet to fuck you in full armor. Even though you can’t really see anything, the concept sends a jolt of elation through you. You love a man in uniform. 

When he’s positioned at your entrance, you have to brace yourself a little. The handful of times you’ve had sex with him, he hasn’t been able to enter you without a loud noise of pleasure erupting from your wanting mouth. He seems to also be aware of this, as his palm once again comes to cover your parted lips. 

“Try not to be loud,” he whispers, and in that instance he’s slowly pushing into you. 

Whimpering from behind his hand, you grasp at his upper arms and squeeze as hard as you can to stop yourself from crying out. 

“That’s it, Cyar’ika,” Din breathes, modulator hissing right above your face, “be a good girl and take it quietly.” Suddenly the beskar helmet is pressed to your right ear as he quietly adds, “although I do love the slutty little noises you make for me. When we’re back home on our ship, you can scream my name as loud as you need to.” 

His voice is almost doing more to you than his body is, core heating up at his words. He knows how much you love dirty talk during sex, or rather, he’s been learning how much you love it.  Each time the two of you are together like this, you both manage to learn so much about one another. Your Mandalorian seems to love it too, reacting in the most lovely ways when you whisper depraved things to him in the throws of passion. You’ve never been more vocal during sex than you are with Din Djarin. It’s almost as if he’s been able to unlock a part of you that was hidden away, desperately waiting to be released. 

Din works himself in and out for a few moments, your legs coming to wrap around his waist. Soon he’s sweeping both of his hands under your upper back, and then in one fell swoop he’s scooping you up into the air while simultaneously sitting back on his ass. Your bodies never cease being linked, and now you’re the one on top as your Mandalorian lays himself down beneath you. Eyes having adjusted to the darkness of the tent, you can faintly see the silver glimmer of the beskar below you. 

With your hands braced against the cool metal, you slowly begin gyrating. At this angle he’s pushed so deep inside you that you feel almost pegged there, but eventually you work up enough momentum to really ride him. Somehow, this is the first time you’ve been on top with him. You’d nearly forgotten how quickly tiring it is on your thighs, but hearing Din’s soft little whimpers and moans makes it all the more worth it. 

You go until your hamstrings cannot take it much longer, collapsing forward onto the Mandalorian’s chest. Panting heavily, you rest your head on his shoulder. His arms circle you, one hand cradling your head while the other pins your shoulders down. Sharp little thrusts find you then, Din’s hips jerking upwards to crash into you. Eventually he slows down to a stop, fingers running through your hair as he begins to soothe you. 

“I’m going to let you get back to sleep,” he says.

“Already?” You pout, “What about finishing?” 

“I told you, I only wanted to fuck you a little bit. Do you need to finish?” 

“Honestly, no. This was perfect. Besides, I’m fucking tired and we have a giant sand lizard to kill tomorrow.” 

“Precisely. We can resume this at a later time.” 

Din pulls out as you peel yourself off of him, feeling around for your underwear.  He notices that they’re bunched up right beside his head, so he holds them out as he looks you over.

“Let me put these back where I found them,” he chuckles quietly, sitting up while simultaneously pushing you down onto your back. He finds the right legs for each hole, easing the soft fabric slowly up your legs. When he reaches your upper thighs he chuckles, “Lift up, Love.” 

So you lift your ass, noticing that its the first time he’s ever called you “love” in basic as he moves your underwear the rest of the way on. Then he comes to hover over you, and you smile contently up at him.

“What, Chrome Dome?” 

“Close your eyes,” he says.

You comply, feeling his hand come to cover your closed lids. A small hiss can be heard, and then his lips are capturing yours in a short lived but heated kiss. 

When he pulls apart, your voice is breathy, “I wasn't even going to ask you to do that.”

“That was for me,” Din says, modulated once again as he removes his hand. “Sleep well, Cyar’ika.” 

You pull his hand back down to your face, kissing his palm. It feels like sleep will reclaim you at any moment, so you curl up in the blankets and close your eyes. “Goodnight, Din.”

“Jate ca,” he says your name, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Just as you hear him moving for the exit of the tent, a sleepy little smile crosses your features and you hear yourself say, “love you… so much.”

The tent is silent for a short moment, before you hear Din lowly reply, “I love you,” in basic rather than Mando’a. For some reason this makes you blush, as if hearing him say it both in his native tongue and yours makes it seem more like you're on even footing with each other.

Then he’s gone, and you’re alone once again. Feeling as if all of that had been a lovely dream, your mind drifts back to unconsciousness.

*****

At first light the Tusken Raider camp is up and about, and you find yourself exiting the darkness of your tent to already blinding sunlight assaulting your eyes. Din and the kid are waiting patiently for you just outside of the tent, and your face forms into the happiest of grins when you see them. Din hands the kid over as you approach, the small green child reaching eagerly for his foster mom.  

“Good Morning, my little love bug,” you say happily, rubbing the tip of your nose onto his. The kid giggles and grabs your face in response. “And good morning to my favorite Mandalorian,” you say as you turn your head to Din with a knowing grace. Under different circumstances, in the sanctity of the Razor Crest, you would have kissed his helmet where his lips ought to be. 

“Jate vaar’tur,” Din responds with a tilt of the head.

Cobb looks between all of you with a raised brow before sarcastically saying, “Well good morning to you guys too.” 

You like to think that Din just rolled his eyes behind the beskar, hearing him sigh. You chuckle as you wave over to the Marshall of Mos Pelgo. “Morning, Cobb.”

A few Tuskens come to speak to Din, and after a short breakfast of nutrition packs, everyone seems ready to get the show on the road. 

A speeder bike ride later, your group is back in Mos Pelgo with the sand people following behind on bantha back. Cobb calls a town meeting, to which all residents show up at the bar where you’d first met this Tatooine gunslinger. 

He explains the situation to his people, filling them in up to the point where he tells them that the sand people are the ones who are going to help kill the krayt dragon. At this, the people of Mos Pelgo become slightly uproarious and once again Din is forced to step in to help Cobb keep the peace. 

An agreement is finally settled upon, and the two factions of Tatooine locals are forced to team up. Things are heated and uncomfortable, but eventually everyone is able to work together for the most part. Din explains the plan to everyone, and after another long journey across the sand you find yourself back at the mouth of the dragon’s cave.

It feels like it takes well over an hour for the plan to be set up. Burying the explosives, setting up the huge crossbow-like structures, getting everyone into position, making sure everyone knows their role. Din, Cobb, the kid, and yourself are situated further back and off to the side to observe everything. Cob’s got the detonator and you can tell he’s anxious to press the damn thing and get this over with. 

And so the plan begins. The krayt dragon comes when the Tusken Raiders call for it. Shooting it with the large arrows seems to only just piss the thing off, and Cobb nearly pushes the button too soon. You’re horrified when the dragon opens it’s great mouth and a disgusting stream of what looks like bile is vomited all over some of the poor people down there. Whatever it is, it must be acidic because from what you can see it appears to melt their skin and clothing. 

“Almost,” Din is saying as he watches it slither forward through his miniature telescope, “Almost… Now!”

Cobb presses the detonator, and the explosives hit dead on. The ground quakes beneath your feet and you can feel the heat of the explosions even from this vantage point. Only, they don’t seem to do the kind of damage that Din was hoping for. Angry, the krayt dragon retreats into the ground, only to reappear at the top on the small mountain it’s cave resides under. It once again sprays the acidic bile all over the people below, and this is when Din and Cobb decide to get involved. 

Din turns to you and grabs your shoulders, “You stay here and keep the kid safe. I will return.” 

“You fucking better,” you squeeze him once.

The rest of it almost goes by in a blur. Din and Cobb fly down to fight the thing off for a while, until Cobb uses the rocket on his jet pack to get it’s attention and your stomach drops as it begins slithering towards them. Then you see Din hit the jet pack on Cobb’s back, sending him flying into the air until he lands hard just a few yards away from you. Din struggles with the bantha’s ropes and you turn your attention to the man splayed out in the sand before you.

“What the fuck is he doing?” You call out to Cobb, who shakes his head at you.

“I don’t know, I think your fella is crazier than skinny hutt!” Cobb calls back, and the both of you turn your attention back to the scene down below just in time to see the krayt dragon consume both the bantha covered in extra explosives and Din Djarin before diving back down into the sand.

The kid makes a squeak of fear beside you, and you start sprinting forward as your stomach drops down to your feet. “Mando! DIN!” 

It feels like the moment lasts forever, everyone just watching in stunned horror. For you, you just watched your partner get swallowed up by a giant sand lizard. For the people below you, they just watched their one hope at saving their land get eaten alive. 

And then the ground begins to shake, your booted feet vibrating beneath you. Rumbling can be heard before the sand suddenly breaks free and the dragon re-emerges. It’s great mouth opens wide, and you finally release the breath you’d been holding in when Din’s form comes flying out of the opening. 

He hits the detonator, and you watch in awe as the krayt dragon explodes from the inside out before your very eyes. Grabbing the child, you take off in Din’s direction, running right past Cobb at full speed. 

“Mando!” You shout, barreling right into him. He’s covered in some sort of nasty green slime from the krayt dragon’s belly, and in this moment you could care fucking less as you cling to him. “Don’t fucking scare me like that.”

“I told you I would return,” Din says simply, looking you and the child over. The kid coos up at him, so Din’s beskar covered head tilts down as he nods. “I’m okay, buddy.”

The kid nods in return, and you’re just glad that your little family is still in one piece. 

The Tuskens make quick work of harvesting the dragon’s meat, even giving a generously huge hunk to Din as a thank you. You look down at the bloody red meat and gag a little. It looks so gross.

Noticing this, Din chuckles in your direction. “I know you don’t love to eat meat, but this will come in handy. I’ll make us a krayt dragon stew when we return home to the Crest.”

Sarcastically, you pat your stomach and say, “yummy,” with the final syllable drawn out to sound more like, “yum-eeee.” Din laughs even harder, and the sound of it fills you with so much joy.  

Cobb comes to say his goodbyes and return the beskar armor to Din as agreed upon, and you sincerely hope that your paths cross with the Marshal again in the future. Stubbornness and hot headedness aside, the man has a good heart and he’s a good leader to his people.

*****

Soon enough Din is slowing the speeder bike down as Peli’s hanger comes into view, and you sigh with relief against his back. The prospect of being home sounds so lovely to your exhausted, overheated body. After going on what you easily consider to be your first true adventure, you’re ready to curl up in the cot with your Mandalorian pressed against you and your foster child in your arms as the three of you drift off into much needed sleep.

Din is still filthy from being inside the belly of the krayt dragon, and frankly he stinks to high heaven of the large sand creature, but you lay your head on his back regardless while he’s bringing the bike into a full stop just inside the hanger.

Peli is there to greet you with her small gaggle of droids.

“The Razor Crest is all tuned up for ya, Mando. My associate and I even upgraded a few of your more outdated parts, free of charge if you let me hold that womp rat for a while before you leave. In fact, you should stay for supper and leave in the morning! I’ll cook up some of that meat you have there and babysit him to let you two have some proper rest.” 

You climb from the bike, knowing full well that the green goop from Din’s clothing is now all over the front of you. You pluck the kid from Din’s satchel and give him a once over before handing the baby over to the eccentric little engineer. 

“Your associate?” Din asks skeptically, coming to stand next to you. “I thought all under your employ are droid.” 

“Oh did I not mention that before? I have another human working with me now. A business partner of sorts. That’s right, your old Peli here found herself a fella. Sorry you missed your chance, Mando.” Peli sends a wink your way, clearly joking. Then she bounces the kid in her arms while looking down at him. “And to think, I could have been your mama.” 

You can’t help but laugh a little and elbow Din in the side as you play along, “You didn’t tell me I had competition here on Tatooine, Mando.” 

To which, Din just sighs heavily and shakes his silver head.

Peli’s curly hair bounces as she laughs at the Mandalorian before going on, “Best engineer I’ve ever met, almost as good as me. He was off at the Tosche Station picking up power converters for me when you landed last week.” Peli turns to the Razor Crest and puts a hand to her mouth, “RICHARD! Come out here and meet the little green creature I told you about.” 

You’re completely taken aback when you hear the familiar name, feeling an odd pang of sadness. It’s not often that you meet people in the galaxy with a name that reminds you of Earth, but it’s also not entirely uncommon either. This one just happens to coincidentally remind you of someone you loved dearly. 

Then you see a man in his late sixties or early seventies emerge from the other side of the Razor Crest, wiping his oily hands on a rag. He’s got a prominent gray mustache and beard covering the lower half of  his wrinkled face and he’s wearing an engineer jumpsuit suit similar to Peli’s. He lifts the dark safety goggles to rest in his unruly gray hair as he approaches and when his face becomes completely clear to you, you nearly faint on the spot. 

“Well I’ll be damned,” the man says, stunned in his tracks as he looks directly at you. 

You must be having some sort of mirage experience from being in the heat of the binary suns for too long. This can’t possibly be real. 

“Mando, is that guy really standing there or am I hallucinating?” You whisper to your beskar clad best friend with wide eyes.

“He’s really standing there. Why? What’s wrong?”

“I think that’s my fucking grandfather.” 

*****

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

*****

Taglist:

@luc-k-y | @theslytherinwriter | @somewereinthegalaxi | @leithatnight | @missbabyjay | @theyoutubedork

*****