#you follow these people for let's say 2 very chaotic years and then you leave

[cakebatteronabrickwall]

In the end, the ending is not so tragic, so dramatic or destructive at all. The trick succession pulls, has always pulled, is making it seem so, making you feel about it the way its characters do.

But when the script (and i'm not the biggest fan of refering to something outside of the actual show) says there's something here, maybe it's okay, calls Ken a man followed by his particular history- that's just it. Or, to rephrase: it just is.

[thefishermansharbor]

The arcana as parents!

The arcana x GN!Reader ( Asra, Lucio, and Julian will be in part 2 )        TW: Mentions of pregnancy. 

Portia Devorak:

She wouldn’t care whether you adopted or had biological children. 

If you had the child yourselves, she’d be really supportive and gentle with you but still try to keep you entertained during your pregnancy. If she got pregnant instead, she’d want to keep working and keep exploring - only really stopping when she’s physically unable to keep up with her tasks.

If you adopted a child, she’d want to adopt a baby, since she has an attitude of ‘ try everything at least once! ‘ and she’d want to try taking care of an infant, just to see if it was as magical as people say it is.

Portia wants to name her children something meaningful. She’d definitely try and convince you to let her name the child after Mazelinka if it was a girl, and Julian if it was a boy. 

She’s definitely the fun parent. She’s willing to try anything that her child suggests - even if she knows it’s stupid. She loves getting wild with her kids, and making sure their childhood is packed with fun, albeit chaotic, memories.

However, under this, she’s a deeply kind and caring mom. She really loves her child, and is behind them in anything they do undoubtedly. She really wants them to know that she’ll support them no matter what happens and why. She wants them to follow their dreams, and live their lives to the fullest.

You’re at a festival. Specifically – a music festival. Your youngest daughter, Mariam ( named loosely after Mazelinka ) is performing for the first time. Your wife, Portia, squeezes your hand excitedly as you watch your little girl go onto the stage with her piano. 

“ THERE’S MAMA’S SUPER STAR!” She shouts from the audience, before the show can even begin. Mariam notices this, and waves excitedly before she’s ushered over to the center of the stage.

“ oh, look! She’s doing so good, she gets her talent from you. Can you believe that’s our seven year old? I was eating dirt at her age!” Portia jokes, whispering.

“ mhm.” You whisper back, watching carefully.

“ I’m so proud! She’s absolutely amazing at this. I’m so glad that milady gave me the day off for this.” She says quietly to you. She wouldn’t ever want to ruin this moment - but she can’t contain herself. She’s just overjoyed at your daughter’s performance. 

Once the performance is finished, Portia claps longest and loudest out of everyone in the audience. She practically zips through the crowd to get her daughter, giving her a tight bear hug. 

“ You’re wonderful! You’ve got such a talent, honey. Mama’s so very proud of you, and ____ is too!”

Your little girl hugs her back. “ mommy, you’re hugging me a little too tight.” Mariam admits, beaming back at Portia. After a while, Portia lets go. 

“ We should do something to celebrate your awesome skills. How about we go out for a fancy dinner now?” Portia grins. 

“Okay!”, Mariam takes her hand, grinning back. You follow behind the two of them, wondering how you got so lucky.

Muriel the outsider:

I’m sorry, but he would only have biological children if they were an accident. He’s just too anxious to deal with the fears and possible dangers that happen with pregnancy. Plus, he also doesn’t want other children to ever go through what he went through living on the streets as an orphan.

If you do get pregnant by accident, that’s fine. He’d never leave you to deal with a child by yourself, He’ll be there for you and care for you to the best of his ability ( which isn’t a lot because he’s insanely nervous. )

But if things go to plan, and you adopt a child - he doesn’t give a single damn what age or background they are. For him, it’s about making sure that no child has to go through the loneliness that he suffered from.

Doesn’t mind what they’re named. You can take the reigns with that if you’d like, but if he has to make the decision he’ll ultimately name them after something in nature. 

Due to his dangerous childhood, he is a tad overprotective and over affectionate. It’s all good intentions though, he just doesn’t ever want to see his child unhappy or suffering. That’s why he tries to prevent them from getting into any situation that could potentially be dangerous to them. 

Even if Mars would have to crash into the earth for the situation to even possibly be dangerous. He’s just taking that extra precaution! 

“ No, Ivy, don’t touch that.” He says softly, watching his toddler try grab a rose. She doesn’t register this at all, and continues to try and rip the flower out of the soil. 

He walks over, and carefully picks her up. She’s tiny compared to him - he can hold her with one arm. She squirms around, babbling and trying to get back to the plant. 

“ I know, Ivy. But roses have thorns, and they might prick your fingers.” Muriel murmurs. You come up next to him, and kiss him on the cheek, carefully taking your daughter into your arms. 

“ Have you been causing trouble today, baby?” You ask, she simply babbles and grabs onto your shirt in response. 

You then look over to Muriel, he’s silently admiring the two of you. He loves you both so very much, and there couldn’t possibly be a more comforting sight than this to him. 

“ Hi, dear.” He whispers, “How’s your day been?” 

“Not too interesting. Working as the castle Magician has been awfully boring.. I’m glad to see you guys.” 

He nods, and brings you into a hug, kissing your forehead. You would hug him back - but you’re still carefully holding onto your daughter. She’s holding loosely onto your sleeve, staring up at you with big curious eyes.

“ Isn’t she lovely?” Muriel asks, he couldn’t have possibly found a more genuine happiness. He can’t even register your response, he’s just so in awe of how content he is with his life and how there are so many wonderful people in it. He truly wouldn’t trade what he has now for the world. 

Nadia Satrinava:

Would much rather adopt as well. She finds it invigorating to know that she’s providing a home for those who need it and living up to her goal of being a selfless leader and person. 

If you were to have biological children, she’ll spoil you during your pregnancy. She’ll spoil you as if there’s no tomorrow - getting you anything and everything you might need or want. If she’s the one who gets pregnant, she’ll have Portia take over some of her duties as countess while she works towards term. She doesn’t want to overwork herself and hurt her child, but she still has lingering guilt that she isn’t working.

If you are to adopt, she would rather adopt a slightly older child. One who could walk and talk already, merely because she’s afraid that her duties as countess would prevent her from teaching her child those immaculately. 

Would want her child to have an important name that displays their personality and suits them. She’d have to meet her child first before deciding on a name, and choose one accordingly.

Is a calm parent but also a voice of authority. She’s the one who gives your child a scolding if they step too far out of line, but it’s always level headed and reasonable. She’ll be mature and never make your child upset. 

What’s the one thing she wishes to instill in your child? She wants them to have a good education. She wants them to be educated, and have good self - advocacy skills. 

“ Noam, have you been studying?” Nadia asks him quietly, sat across from him at the table. You’re sitting left of your lover, and right of your son. She skims through important documents and he doodles on his notebook, smiling.

“ Yes, mama. I got a 90% on my math quiz today.” He says proudly, smiling.

She looks up, grinning back at him. You notice how he inherited her smile, and it makes you let out a soft chuckle. 

“ Wow! I’m so proud of you, Noam. You’re an excellent boy.” She gushes, putting down what she was working on. You nod, backing up her words 100%. “ You’ve never done as well as that before, good job!” 

He beams at the both of you, “ do you really think so?” He asks timidly.

“Of course.” Nadia says, “ you’re my precious boy, and I’m so proud of you.” She walks over, and kisses him on the top of the head. 

“ – I tried my best.” He said proudly. 

“ That’s all I ever ask of you, hunny.” She says, running her hand through his hair and messing with it. He laughs. You smile at the two of them.

[queenofallimagines]

Hi! This is literally my first time requesting anything ( I couldn’t see if your requests were closed or not but if they are please ignore this), but I would like to request daisuga x first year (black) reader please? :)

Also, I love your blog! It’s so hard to find people who make hcs for black people so when I found you I was sooo excited :) love you, and have a great day!

This has so much flavor anon ily🥹

Daisuga:

- this is the funniest relationship ever congratulations

- Bc not only are you dating two third years daichi is constantly tired of you and suga’s shenanigans

- Suga can run w the best of em I fear so daichi is left in the dark when y’all start acting goofy 😭

- “No bc I’m not about to let her shenan😒”

- “???? What?”

- “Daichi keep up🙄🙄Bc if you let ‘em shenan once best believe they gon shenanigan!”

- He’s stressed!!

- Suga is just as chaotic as noya and hinata so he can be the mom friend but in more of a wine aunt “get they ass!!” Type way

- And he’s very “if you do it imma do it too” so god help whoever starts shit w you be he’s got your follow up💀

- Daichi making sure you do your homework

- Constantly pestering you to sleep and heat healthy too

- Likes bringing you to vollyball practice buuuut highkey lowkey you a distraction

- Noya and Tanaka asking you how you managed to pull them both and also you’re just really chill to hang with

- Hinata and kageyama have huge little sibling energy even tho your in the same year

- Putting tsukishima in his place Lmaoo

- Y’all gossip buddies sorry don’t make the rules he’s the devil on your shoulder encouraging you to be meaner

- “Drag them👀”

- Plus you’re besties w asahi by proxy so you get along w the whole team

- Sticking up for asahi to stress out daichi more>>>

- “Leave that little guy alone!!”

- “LITTLE HES LIKE 6”2????”

- Sleeping over at sugas house and cuddling is like the best past time activity

- he has a bonnet you left there that he keeps when you come over

- we will NOT let you put in on yourself he will put in in you like a crown lmao

- daichi gets jealous bc he insists on doing it every time you guys sleep together

- will oil and braid your hair up for bed

- I feel like daichi is really good at helping with your hair

-if you get either of them a durag as a joke they will wear them seriously and not take them off

- Along with working out!

- Daichi will definitely not let you ogle him and suga as they workout so you’re gunna be sweating too

- Which suga will definitely pull a “let me help you get in the right position” to feel you up

- He’s definitely shameless about how attracted he is to you like he’s NOT ashamed to show that he’s with two hot people

- Daichi is more reserved to where PDA is just holding hands, head pats and cheek kisses

- Really makes it look like you guys are just really good friends but will say your his partner without hesitation

- Suga is going around parading how hot his two partners are and how he’s the luckiest guy in the world

- Planning your wedding as we speak tbh

- Daichi was trying to bite his tongue when two classmates were making jokes about how he’s a third wheel and suga and you will ditch him and start dating

- Like at first he was like lmao you have no idea

- But they’re were really trying to make him insecure

- To which he goes

- “ACTUALLY both of my partners make sure to spare equal amounts of their time with me”

- Like he will subtly flex his relationship if people want to act up

- Suga will show up to your classroom to collect you for lunch lmao

- Everyone is all shook bc this super pretty third year shows up and he’s the volleyball teams setter?

- And he’s like “I’m here to get you so we can eat lunch together💕”

- Lmao he will embarrass you by being so sweet

- Asahi praying for you tbh bc you have to put up w both of them at once

- Also hope you don’t have any classes w tsuki bc he will “go as your boyfriends” YOU TO DEATH!!

- “Hey kei can I borrow a pencil?”

- “You can’t go ask your boyfriends if they have one??”

[marriiemeii]

03. coworker dinner

summary: after work dinner with coworkers

previous || next

"mai!"

the it team lead turns her head back and looks over at who was calling out her name. she stops walking with her small team and soojin to let jeonghan, the hr lead catch up.

"what is it, jeonghan?" she asks him, impatient since she had to sit through the meeting led by him in the last 30 minutes.

"i heard you guys are going to kbbq after work," he smiles at her. mai sighs the moment the words leave his mouth. "can yeri and i join you guys?"

"you mean can you, yeri, joshua, and seungcheol go?" mai retorts. "when one of you goes somewhere all of you go somewhere."

jeonghan smiles innocently, you could almost see a halo floating above his head, but the look in his eyes showed mischief.

"ehhh, it's not my fault those 2 like to follow yeri and i around."

"if i let you guys go, more people are going to want to go," mai frowns. she wanted a small quiet dinner with her team and her best friend so they can get to know each other. also, it would help soojin with getting to know the two people she thinks of as her little kids.

mai sighs knowing jeonghan wasn't going to give up until he gets an invite and nods her head at him.

"you guys are finding your own rides tho, and pay for yourselves."

****

she should've just said no. the dinner of 4 had turned into a dinner of 12. she might as well ask the whole company to come with for a company dinner. in addition to the original party of 4, jeonghan, yeri, seungcheol, joshua, soonyoung seungkwan, seokmin, and hayoon had joined them.

they were lucky they were able to get a private room with a long table that fit all of them. there were 6 chairs on two sides of the table.

on oneside was mai, soojin, jun, wonwoo, soonyoung, and hayoon. on the other side was jeonghan, yeri, joshua, seokmin, seungkwan, and seungcheol.

on the bright side, the rest of financing and editorial didn't want to go to the dinner.

"hayoon, stop hogging all the kimchi," seungcheol says trying to grab some kimchi.

"you were hogging all the fish cake just earlier??" hayoon exclaims. soonyoung pats hayoons shoulder.

"you are kind of hogging the kimchi. you know how much i love kimchi," soonyoung pouts.

"you both can literally order some more kimchi and it's not going to cost extra. stop trying to take my food," hayoon complains.

it was very chaotic with all the different workers from different departments all in one room. soojin definitely thought it was fun and lively.

"jeonghan, joshua, please stop piling my plate with food. i literally cannot eat all of this," yeri stares down at the food before looking at the two males next to her. the two look at her upset.

"yeri, you need to eat more so you can grow," jeonghan argues with joshua nodding his head in agreement.

"yeah, you're smaller than all of us here so you need to eat a lot and grow well," joshua says. yeri glares at them.

"i'm not growing anymore! i'm already 24 my growth has stopped for like 8 years," yeri pouts. the jeonghan pats her head while joshua was biting his lips to keep himself from laughing at her.

"i guess you'll just always be a mini me," jeonghan says. yeri shoves her elbow into his side. he yelps and holds his slowly bruising side. "i'm going to report you to hr."

"we are hr!" yeri snarks back.

"our hr is such a mess," joshua mutters, causing the two to look at him with a dark look on their faces. "who said that?"

"reported."

"cancelled."

yeri and jeonghan say staring at joshua, who looks at them offended.

"this is an abuse of power."

instagram post

liked by minguy, seokminie, mymai, and others

seokminie what else do u shove in ur mouth? @.horangi

horangi do u hate me or something??

seungkween @.horangi u should be happy someone liked it tho

seokminie ur welcome soonyoung 😎

yayri 😗 i spy with my little eye a crush

jisoju so u admit ur little

hannie @.jisoju 💯💯

previous || next

[sonderwrit]

C120: This is enough

I Have to Be a Great Villain - Masterpost

Author's 木火然 Weibo post:

亿哥秦先生祝福大家新年快乐！！！新的一年一起走下去吧！[爱你][爱你][爱你]大家都有什么新年愿望呢～

Brother Yi and Mr. Qin wishes everyone Happy New Year!!! Let's walk towards the new year together! [love you][love you][love you] What kind of New Year's wishes does everyone have~

Qin Xian: Mm.

QX: Come on.

Wang Yi: …..

WY: [Ahh, I hate this feeling]

WY: [Of being overly protected by someone else)]

Y: [I'm not upset because of Luo Wenliu targeting me]

WY: [Or the packet of realgar that Qin Xian gave me.]

QX: Disci…ple?

*nomnom*

WY: [But because I don't want to admit—]

WY: Hahhh—

WY: Finally I feel more clearheaded.

WY: [The fact that I'm gradually falling behind S-0 and Qin's footsteps.]

WY: [I have no idea what they want to do.]

QX: ……

QX: No need for this. Biting me is the same.

WY: It's not the same.

WY: (Although I easily agreed to losing my memories, it doesn't feel good to be the only one who's protected.) [It's like I'm dragging them down.]

WY: Pain is better than drinking blood to clear the head.

QX: …..

QX: (Memories?)

QX: It's a Master's duty to protect the disciple.

WY: Huh?

WY: (What kind of reaction is this? Is that all he wants to say?)

WY: But disciples should respect masters too, right? How can I rely on you all the time.

WY: (I thought he'd question me on my chaotic thoughts.) [I even prepared an excuse in advance.] *rips fabric*

*can barely control himself from leaking any "fatal" intel*

QX: …….

WY: *doesn't treat the wound so the pain can keep him clearheaded*

WY: !

QX: Master isn't sure what disciple's being so stubborn about. Since you don't want Master to ask, then I won't.

QX: However, Yunshan Sect doesn't accept demonic disciples, so you can't return with your current symptoms of demonization. Master will find a way to solve…

WY: Master.

QX: ?

WY: It's fine, you've already helped me a lot. And you've always cared for me and accompanied me.

(FLASHBACK)

Young Wang Yi: Kitty! Kitty!

(END FLASHBACK)

WY: This is enough.

QX: !

QX: What does disciple mean.

WY: Disciple hopes you won't consider my safety. Whether it's cultivation or eliminating demons, just do what you have to do.

QX: ….. I made an agreement with you to study all the contents of that book.

WY: Huh? Don't misunderstand, I'm not leaving you.

WY: That's not what I meant.

WY: It's just that you've been looking after me and staying by my side so long that it's time for you to take a break.

WY: (Haha, I'm so ashamed.)

WY: [I should've figured it out earlier.]

QX: ? It wasn't very long, I'm not tired. [Only over a decade or so.]

WY: To me it's a long time.

#Communication along different frequencies#

WY: [Since there's no way to change the status quo or the people]

WY: So coming up next—

WY: [The only way left—]

WY: It's my turn to chase you.

WY: [Is to change myself, right?]

WY: [I've never been someone impressive.]

WY: [And I've never thought of accomplishing great things.]

WY: [Although my friends did and I accompanied them]

Friend: We're just catching a thief.

Wang Yi: Hello, is this 110?*

*110 is the equivalent to 911 in China

WY: [Since Mr. Qin has rushed to me again and again]

Qin Xian 1: Brother Yi.

Qin Xian 2: City lord.

Qin Xian 3: Wang Yi.

WY: [I too, towards him—]

WY: [Will take this step.]

WY: Urk. *blushes*

WY: In any case, just busy yourself and I'll follow you like death. If I can't catch up, don't worry about it, just treat it as me going out to gain experience, but I'll definitely find you after a year.

WY: (Since the story plot will begin then, I'll need to return to the sect even if it means spending points and using props.)

QX: ….. *Iceberg Sword Saint Trying to Understand Human Emotions.jpg*

WY: (So awkward…)

WY: (I never thought there'd come a day where I pursued someone myself.)

S-0: Host—

WY: (See, I'm even hallucinating S-0's voice.)

S-0: Host—great—

S-0: AhhhHHHHHHH HOST—! GREAT NEWS!!!!

WY: (Damn! It's really him?!)

WY: (BUT QIN XIAN IS STILL HERE!)

WY: Sao Ling! *blocking him from Qin Xian*

QX: ?

QX: (This cat again)

WY: Why did you run out again! Don't you need to hide?

WY: Master, go rest first. This spiritual cat seems to want me for "something unimportant."

QX: ? (High cultivation, heard every single word)

S-0: It's fine it's fine!

S-0: I came to tell Host that the Main System—

S-0: HAS COMPLETELY LEFT!!!!

~𝕳𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖑𝖚𝖏𝖆𝖍~

WY: ???

QX: *trying to understand*

S-0: It's not time for the plot yet, so you and Sword Saint Qin don't need to worry about breaking character. [The novel doesn't record what happens in the downtime outside of missions.]

WY: *quietly* No, I don't understand.

WY: Rather, I'm not even sure what you two are playing at, I need an explanation.

S-0: Oh, how to put it.

S-0: It's more or less what you guessed, we put on an act to fool the Main System.

S-0: There was originally a little complication.

S-0: "It" finished inspecting the world and was too lazy to leave because it didn't find any loopholes.

(FLASHBACK: S-0 saying "Yes" to the Main System's declaration that they'd stay.)

S-0: I was almost scared to death and even considered messing with the world itself.

S-0: But then Luo Wenliu showed up.

(FLASHBACK: Qin Xian going "oh" to LWL's dramatic reveals.)

S-0: The Main System inspected him, found a fragment of data related the "Wanted Person" on him, and chased that fragment out of this world. (Lucky~)

WY: ? *Confused #1*

QX: ? *Confused #2*

S-0: Forget it, you wouldn't understand even if I explained.

S-0: At any rate, the alarms are clear.

S-0: Before the mission starts one year later, Host can be your own person.

WY: ….hey. (Don't monologue to yourself.)

S-0: All you need to do is:

S-0: One, explain the situation to Sword Saint Qin and help him recover his memories.

S-0: Two, playact as before until you reach the novel ending, and that's it. (That's why I avoided telling Sword Saint Qin about this matter.)

(SCENARIO: Qin Xian going "Unfilial disciple! Master will clean up the sect today!)

WY: ……

WY: Hah…. *headache*

WY: (And I was just preparing to "reverse pursue" him.)

WY: God knows what you two were plotting. I'd thank the Heavens if it went as smoothly as planned.

WY: Master, you've more or less heard about the situation.

WY: May I ask what you're…

WY: Thinking, right now?

---

(look they have matching panels in this chapter hehe)

[gleefullypolin]

Stacy's Tipsy Musings: Battle of the Stans Round 3 Penelope

We are back for round 3 of Stacy's Tipsy Musings: Battle of the Stans Version

Yes you heard me, it's when one side of the ship screams louder than the other about a certain opinion. Well I wanted to tear those opinions up one by one and see what a Polin Stan thought about it.

Disclaimer: This is all in good fun, I'm not trying to start a real fight here! These are just personal opinions that I feel come from one side and should really be looked at from the middle more. Peace love and shipping!

Round 1: Penelope| Colin

Round 2: Penelope | Colin

On to the Final Round

Penelope Stans Round 3:

Apologize or Grovel

Colin didn’t do enough to earn Pen’s love in S3. Pen should have had sex with Debling in order to even the score with Colin since he was off having sex with other women which was very ick, and he owed her an explanation about his sex life because that was just gross.

This is a tough one. And not just because it involves Regency era norms that I don’t exactly like or enjoy but because after getting upset about one person’s sex life we do a double flip and ask for revenge sex. I get whiplash following along so try and keep up but sorry if I lose you.

So, let’s break it down bit by bit. First off Colin didn’t do enough to earn Pen’s love. I’ll start there and say…Colin already had Pen’s love at the start of S3 sooooo I could just stop and say KO! Done! But I won’t because I know we mean the apology.

So many people felt the apology didn’t give them what they wanted. He didn’t beg for her forgiveness. Alright, so he told her he was sorry, he wasn’t the same person he was the year prior. I understand to a point, he didn’t explain why he said it. However, I would also like to point out that he may not even remember saying it so there is the possibility that he has no fucking clue why he said it, so the boy’s only explanation is holy shit, I’m not that idiot anymore.

After that he literally tells her he’s in love with her. Oh wait, that wasn’t what he meant? Sorry he was so lost, because what other woman would he have said those words to? He literally gave her a love confession! Pen was flitting those lashes at him, and he was smiling like a fool. The guy was an idiot from the first episode and had no idea. But he offered to find her himself…I mean a husband and we were off to the races.

Now let’s get into the evening of scores. Because I don’t get this part. It’s regency and we know men were meant to frequent brothels as a means to wetting their wicks, not being green, experience, not falling for the first chit they fell over, it was a means to an end with the men of the ton basically. We don’t have to like it, but it was what was done. It was what his brothers did, and so it became what Colin did.

Somehow because of that, Pen needed to revenge sex Colin with Debling. So, ruin herself with a man who clearly told her he would never love her. Of course, this would mean she would then have to marry Debling or be consider ruined so I’m not sure where the logic was going because let’s be serious here, rules are different in this era, and no one is paying attention to any of this.

The next matter is Colin needing to explain himself to Pen about all his conquests. I will push back here and say how do you know he did not. They have had conversations on screen about the women in Paris. We got literally 3 instances of Pen either reading or discussing other women with Colin. How many happened where we did not get to watch them? Why must we assume that every conversation they have we are privy to? If they showed us 3, I would assume they were comfortable discussing it when we aren’t there.

Thus, I will say they have already discussed this, and the matter is closed.

Polin Fan Knockout Punch: Colin chaotically interrupted a dance with a courting couple on a night when it was known by the ton that said couple were getting engaged. He disrupted that proposal causing her to leave on foot. Colin chased her carriage down on foot in sight of the ton, he got on his knees and professed his feelings for his best friend who reciprocated his feelings. After making those feelings physically known to her, he proposed marriage to her which she accepted. He stood up to her mother, professed his love to her, made love to her in their new home. Found out that she was Lady Whistledown, while dealing with feelings of extreme betrayal and confusion he married the love of his life with a smile on his face, he danced with her at their wedding breakfast with desire in his eyes, he then stood by her as she announced to the ton that she was Lady Whistledown in front of the Queen of bloody England. He found her immediately after to tell her that he was proud of her and was happy to stand by her side because she was his purpose. The then took her home, fucked her madly and created Lord Featherington. Colin “My Wife” Bridgerton has earned the love of his wife.

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Questionnaire Tag (2)!

Thanks for the tag @willtheweaver (here)!

Your questions are:

What are your biggest pet peeves?

Who is the person you look up to the most?

Do you have any major fears?

I'll go with twins Cyriel and Dimya Staryn from Song of Thorns, and Augustus Grimmure and Sam Delaways from Enchanted Illusions for this one!

1. What is your favorite way of relaxing after a hard day’s work?

(Song of Thorns)

Cyriel - "Probably a good cup of warm wine and a delicious roast in a tavern after a long journey down the Reaper's Way - and yeah you heard that route. It's the only road that still connects human territory and fey lands, and cuts through a very much cursed forest. My job is not fun."

Dimya - "I dunno. Eating a pastry or some kind a dessert while chilling by the fireplace before taking a nap sounds about right. I don't really have a specific routine that I follow, but man I'd like to get some more sleep if I could."

(Enchanted Illusions)

Augustus - "Oh, that's an interesting question, my good fellow! Personally, reading a necromancy tome on a train ride is my ideal go-to, but a hot bath with a lot of bubbles also does the trick! Practicing my magic or doing something fun is also a good idea."

Sam - "Relaxing, haha. That's a good joke right there. You were serious? When I'm not working in the factories I'm taking care of my kid brothers and trying to not get robbed in an alley! I'm lucky if I get more than three solid hours of sleep a night on a regular week. Strystead ain't a place that just lets ya 'relax', y'know?"

2. Did you do anything that you regret now?

(Song of Thorns)

Cyriel - "Eh, not really. I'm a mercenary and a land pirate, my job isn't exactly for people who care about that kind of stuff. One thing that I do regret, however, is trusting people who don't deserve my loyalty. That much I will admit - my blind trust screwed us up big time."

Dimya - "Yes. I've screwed up more times than I can count, but I'd say that one thing I did that I really regret is not doing anything when I found out my boss was capturing and selling living vampires to 'high value' clients - I was just too scared of what that guy would do to me and my sister if he found out I knew the truth. But my silence doomed those innocent vampires to a fate probably worse than death. I hope we can still stop our former boss's schemes and free these people. I still haven't told my sister though, I probably should."

(Enchanted Illusions)

Augustus - "Making a deal with an immortal fey demon of death sounded like a great idea five years ago and... it was not. I admit that now. I'm racing against time because I don't really fancy having my soul trapped somewhere for all eternity. No thanks! That idea was quite honestly the worst possible idea I could've had."

Sam - "Oh, I definitely regret moving to Strystead. We shoulda stayed in Ansburke and figured things out from there, but at the time I desperately needed a job, and going to Strystead seemed like a good option because of the factories and all. Instead, I've gotten us stuck in this hellish city and with a growing pile of debt."

3. If someone put you in a position of power, would you be able to trust yourself to make good decisions?

(Song of Thorns)

Cyriel - "Yep. I think. I do pretty well when it comes to making decisions quickly and I also have a tendency to gravitate towards leadership roles, so as long as I don't screw up really bad I'd probably do well."

Dimya - "Hells nah (chuckles). I don't even trust myself most times, imagine me leading a team or something. It would be too chaotic, haha. Leave leadership roles to my sister - she's the idealist, not me, I'm fine as I am."

(Enchanted Illusions)

Augustus - "Yes, that's basically what I do, my friend. Making plans in high-tension situations and managing a team is easy compared to learning the art of necromancy."

Sam - "I dunno. I'm pretty confident in my abilities and am good at improvising when I need to, but I don't know how I'd be able to handle it long-term. I prefer to be unseen, behind the scenes, y'know. Easier to not get in trouble when you go unnoticed."

Tagging: @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks@littleladymab@cabbojage@lassiesandiego@little-peril-stories@oh-no-another-idea@thepeculiarbird@rickie-the-storyteller@crowandmoonwriting@steh-lar-uh-nuhs@gummybugg@forthesanityofstorytellers@doublegoblin@aalinaaaaaa@starlit-hopes-and-dreams@elshells@illarian-rambling@clairelsonao3@conkers-thecosy@anyablackwood @diabolical-blue @cowboybrunch, @eccaiia and OPEN TAG

[ill-be-istj-if-no-one-else-is]

Hi Em, I was wondering if you can help me figure out my mbti please. First of all I want to say I'm glad you're still around here bc I left for a couple of years and now can barely find active typology blogs. A few years ago I was very chaotic and unhealthy and you told me to come back to typology when I had more life experiences and my brain was fully developed so now that i'm 25 years old I'm back. I think i'm an NFP but i'd like you to confirm that or suggest another type please. (1/7)

One of my biggest struggles during my adult years has been career wise. Right now I'm a new grad nurse and i chose this career because it was supposed to give stability plus i was told it was one of those careers that were going to keep growing in demand. But it burned me out too much and i hated every second of it. I only stayed in it because it aligned with my values of helping people for a living. Now i'm thinking of going into debt to study a second career that is not so stable but i'm passionate about (psychology) bc i have something to fall back on financially anyways. I have other options like going into business, law, linguistics, and i can't make up my mind. All the feedback i've gotten from others is that i'm not much of a practical person. I thought i was just having some sort of midlife crisis but apparently is not normal. I think this suggests lower Te? (2/7)

Another thing that to me suggests low te is during my college years I struggled a lot with discipline and organization. It took me a lot of effort to take up my gpa, had to follow a lot of studyblr tips lol and strict rules to achieve that. I think I have Fi because my values are very important to me, to the point that I disrupt the environment, I'm the talk about abortion in family dinners ruinning the mood kind of person. And although I love people I struggle with being inauthentic and pretending to like someone when I don't (3/7)

I'm very much of a textbook introvert, shy and get drained when spending a whole day with a group of people and need too much alone time. But also in relationships i've struggled with being codependent and it sounds contradictory but i can't bear to be without them more than a week, I enjoy speaking out about my ideas and even in my "alone time" I contact internet friends to talk about the things that interest me (4/7)

The function that I struggle relating to is Ne due to lack of creativity and brainstorming abilities. I know Ne is more than that but I think I use it more in an unhealthy way? Like daydreaming to escape from my problems, being unable to stick to only one life path like the career example I gave above, feeling stressed after too many years of routine and wanting to leave everything behind. Oh but when my boss asks me to come up with creative ways to talk about STDS with my patients, i can't really come up with anything. I enjoy abstract conversations (about philosophy and spirituality / esoteric stuff mostly) and get bored in normal day to day conversations with my peers. But in my job i prefer something that is practical and doesn't require much brainstorming (5/7)

I think I have lower Si because I struggle a lot with letting go of the past ways of doing things, very catastrophic thinking of "I tried this before and it didn't work so it's not going to work now". Also trouble forgetting people, way more than normal. I like routines and I get stressed when my environment changes too much. But i'm not exactly a structured person, I'm up to last minute plans (6/7)

Finally I don't think I have Se just because I'm very disconnected from my environment in a extreme way, i'm the type of person that falls a lot due to not noticing obstacles in the way, not noticing when the shower is steaming hot until many minutes later when my skin is burning, etc. And Ni thinking is very linear for me, I feel like I very much have a monkey brain and can't stick to only one idea. Can you please help me? I hope this was not too long thank you! (7/7)

----

So I must admit, this is still pretty chaotic and it feels like it focuses largely on weaknesses, rather than strengths, which still makes you difficult to type. While I am (still) not a mental health professional, my first thought is whether you've ever been tested for ADHD or similar just because you talk about wanting a stable, practical, uncreative job and enjoying routines, but also being forgetful, unaware of your surroundings, and not being pragmatic as a person. While it's entirely reasonable for a high Ne user to want stability in what they do, healthy high Ne would likely gravitate towards a stable job with some degree of brainstorming involved. Jobs like nursing, in fact, are often good for perceivers because it involves a lot of variety and spontaneity while still being a dependable career - though naturally not all perceivers would be happy as nurses.

I do think feeling seems reasonable, as does high Fi, but I am actually stuck on Se vs. Ne since either way it would be unhealthy. It almost sounds a little like an Fi-Ni loop to me - your feelings informing your idea of what your life should be without strong external input, an aimless desire for spontaneity but difficulty engaging with it mentally. But I would also at least take a hard look at ADHD, depending on how intensely your life is impacted.

[earthtooz]

hi earth! i was wondering if you possibly had any advice for anyone who wants to start a writing blog or general tips. if you’re comfortable with it, it would also be cool to know what your writing process is like! you write very well so i’m just curious. thank you for taking the time to read this and i hope you have a lovely day!

first of all, this ask was what got me out of bed in the morning to go to my laptop where i did nothing for like 2 hours.

ANYWAYS I’ve been awake for seven hours now and i still haven’t answered it LOL, but thank u for taking the time to pop into my inbox anon!! so honoured u thought of me 🤭🤭

i’m more than happy to answer any questions u may have!! i’ve only been writing here for like one and a half years but I’ll gladly share some tips for new writers <3

tips for new writers - writing on tumblr in general:

formatting and your writing style is very important!!! people most of the time will like stories that have good grammar and are easy to read, so know your punctuation- duh, i mean, most people know where to put their commas, full stops, and shit, but as even a native English speaker i still need to double check sometimes 😭😭😭

ALSO, figure out if you’re a writer who likes to write with proper punctuation or in lower case like i am rn. people on tumblr don’t care which one you opt for so it’s a matter of personal preference!!

personally, i like to use proper punctuation for longer fics with more plot, and lower case writing for normal drabbles, headcannons, etc, all up to you :3 depends on what i feel like tho, i just like the look of lower case hehe

also, you can totally write drafts on tumblr or another platform - i switch between docs and tumblr. shorter pieces on tumblr and longer pieces on Google docs !!

how to get attention on tumblr as a new writer - the importance of tags:

USE THE TAGS - DON’T BE SHY !!! USE A VARIETY !!!! it’s so easy to get reads on tumblr if you just know your tags. i also will say: be mindful of whether or not you stay in tags bc your post can suddenly just disappear- this has happened to me so many times 😭😭 to do that just search if your fic is still popping up in the ‘recent’ section of the tags AND EVERY TIME AFTER U POST SOMETHING, TAKE THE TIME TO SEARCH IF IT’S IN THE ‘RECENT’ TAGS.

(this part might make zero sense, but if it’s been a couple hours and your post still is not popping up, you can either edit it again, make no changes, and press ‘save’.)

general tips:

have an aesthetic layout.

obviously it’s not ‘essential’, but i always find myself more likely to follow blogs that are pretty or have an aesthetics

it takes so long to do but it’s so worth it 😭 if you looks at the fics that do very well, the formatting it very beautiful and pleasing to the eye.

if you’re struggling with a layout, there are so many inspos available on tumblr, just search up ‘blog inspo’ or ��layout inspo’ and you’ll generally be pretty successful. if all else fail just go to your fav blogs and see how they set up their blog/navigation/aesthetic!!!

having a set colour for your blog can also look nice and less chaotic. for example; mine is red and it’s my (usually) go-to colour for a lot of stuff. just make sure u like the colour tho ☝️

also don’t be afraid to talk to people! AUTHORS LOVE WHEN YOU COMPLIMENT THEIR WORK!! getting mutuals is such a great feeling so PUT YOURSELF OUT THERE !!!!! MAKE FRIENDS 😮😮

my writing process:

i am that writer that likes to have a plot before i start anything, but it’s never complete. normally when i’m going abt my day, i suddenly think of a piece of dialogue or scenario that makes me go ‘hold on. let me write that down’.

for example, recently i thought of a piece of dialogue for an angst fic (that i don’t know if i’ll use) that goes:

‘no i’m not upset that you forgot about our anniversary, in fact, i already predicted you would.’

another idea i had was: you don’t ever want to leave nagi seishiro hungry.

sometimes I get these ideas when i’m in bed like bro 😐 let me rest…

if i feel inspired enough to continue said ideas, i do, but i never force the fic from happening bc then it’ll be mediocre and just… okay. not something i want on my blog 😭

but then i decide the wordlength, how many scenes i want to be in there. for example, my mistletoe todoroki fic i set out for 4k and met my goal. but my itoshi rin Xmas fic only met around 1k when my goal was 2k - sometimes this happens and i cant be mad if i think the story is done there.

it’s never that organised though, if you look at my drafts, it’s a scrabble of words. i jump from scene to scene with big gaps in between that i need to fill in later 😭 but that’s just how i write LOL ! you may be totally different from me which is a-okay :3

then i grind til the fic is done, reread then bam 💪 ! do my usual formatting on tumblr, tags, and then you’ll see the final result!! easier said than done bc when you want to be done with a fic and just post it, you then need to do all the actual presentation of the fic 😭😭😭

anyways yeah, that’s my process summarised lol!! hope it helped u get a little bit of an idea for what the earthtooz blog grind looks like 🫡

so yeah, i think that’s all i rly need to say!! if you wanna follow my advice or not, up to u, but once again, thank u for popping in my inbox anon and asking me!! gave me something to do whilst on my walk 🤭

cant wait to see what you write, always feel free to come back and ask if you need some ‘extra help’, but i believe in you! good luck and have fun writing, and i hope to see u in the tags someday :D

[no-droids]

Home

gif credit: @javier-pena

Part Eighteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.5K

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

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

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

Day 5–11:13am:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Extravagant, magnificent are both words.  Floral is another.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5—5:04pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–5:17pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s here… isn’t he?

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

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

This… this is a taunt.  

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

“You okay, Nerida?”

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

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

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

***

Day 5–5:32pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that’s when you see him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unless…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–5:24pm:

Din is fucking furious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–6:59pm:

This water is quiet here, but it sparkles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Din.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–7:37pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Naydee smiles and nods.  “Sounds perfect.”

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

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

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

***

Day 5–11:32pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something catches your eye.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Behind you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rigid steel that bends only for your touch.

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

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

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

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

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

—Bong—

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

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

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

One o’clock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—ve you—I l-love y—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It takes you a second.

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

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

“Ma—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Commotion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The crib—he forgot the crib—

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

You raise your voice.  “Din?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, well.  You could just about fucking cry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Home.

***

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

[jiminzfilter]

slow dancing in the night

→ Pairing. Taehyung x reader

→ Genre. established relationship, fluff, slice of life, model!taehyung, model!reader, taehyung missed you a lot, he is starving (his words not mine), gets a bit hot by the last 40 lines, mentions of oral (f) so I guess this counts as mature content, implied smut, making out (kinda), there is a bit of swearing

→ Summary. what could possibly be better than coming home after a long day of work to someone you love and missed a lot ?

→ Word count. 3.2k (!!!)

→ because I wrote this over a year ago when I still didn't know what I was doing with my writing, I had to go through a deep process of editing and re-writing before posting it. This might not be my best work but it's still a fic that I really really like :,)

→ song rec. slow dancing in the dark, Joji// still with you, Jungkook

Fridays have always been exhausting days for both you and your boyfriend, especially on runways weeks. As models, you were put under a lot of pressure.

Pressure to be perfect, to smile but never smile too much, to look good, to not fall on stage.

Falling has to be the most tragic thing that can happen to your carreer as a model, the hungry stares of thousands of photographers and reporters ready to share the latest news to the press.

Yeah, it was exhausting.

This week was no exception... or maybe it was since, this time, you were the only one working until late.

It’s four in the morning and you’re already on your way out - kind of running late, oBviOusLy - quietly wishing your boyfriend a good day.

He is not working today.

That lucky bastard.

He gets to enjoy his free day in bed, lazing around, while you work your ass off all day. He mumbles something that you assume is a sort of goodbye. He is still asleep.

You look at him one last time before leaving the room and smile. He looks so peaceful.

You still remember the day you met, by pure luck even though you both call that fate. That was 5 years ago, when you just debuted your career as a model and were not that comfortable around high heels.

Okay no. Let’s be real.

You hated wearing them because you couldn’t walk in heels higher than 5 cm.

It’s still a wonder how you managed to make it in the first place.

Were you wearing flat shoes for the audition ? Damn you really must’ve done an impression on the judges if they made you pass without the heels try-on.

Your first day at the agency was chaotic to say the least. Your manager made you walk around the building, to visit she said. She made you wear heels. HEELS. That devilish person.

But, thank to that, you got to meet Taehyung. Your eyes landed on him as you were visiting the lounge and couldn’t tear them away from his figure. The poor man had to witness you fall down because you weren’t watching your steps anymore.

I mean.

Who could blame you ??

That was Kim frEaking Taehyung

!!!

He even came to help you get back on your feet and asked if you were alright, kind of amused.

It’s not everyday you see someone falling down in here, let alone a newbie

Let’s be honest, you were so embarrassed.

First day of work and you’re already failing falling.

That night when you came home, you spent the night wearing heels and prayed really hard you’d never have to face him again. After all, the building was big enough and there were enough workers that you could avoid Taehyung easily

If only

The NeXt day, you were told that you had a couple shooting, with none other that Kim Taehyung.

GreaT

He would occasionally tease you about your fall and check on you to see if everything was alright. He watched you carefully as you were walking around with heels.

From up close he looked even more handsome.... :)

After this day, you started talking with Taehyung more and more. He introduced you to everyone around the agency. You met outside of work, got to know each other. You both became regally good friends but there was something lingering in the air, in the way you’d look at each other or stood so close to him after a couple glasses of wine that you could breathe his air.

So what was bound to happen happened and you went from friends a to lovers without really noticing it.

He was still your best friend...somehow

Eventually, you took things to the next level and moved in together... maybe a half and a year ago or so ? You’ve never been happier in your life

And, well, you’d actually be happier if you could spend the day with boyfriend instead of running around trying to find god knows which accessories you need for the rehearsal.

8 in the morning is noT a time to be doing cardio.

Especially while wearing heels

Become a model they said, it’ll be fun they said

“Y/n! Come here please I need you to try on this dress before you go!” Your personal stylist calls “I made sure to fix it yesterday so it’d be a perfect fit for the show”

You stop your tracks and go to her “make this quick i have to go get changed before 9 otherwise I’m screwed. Why did they even decide to do the rehearsals so early today ?” You sigh, frustrated, and put on the dress she’s handing you “thank you”

“Okayyy...it looks great. Gold looks amazing on you.” She smoothes the dress and gives an approving nod, visibly satisfied ; “You’ll look perfect for the Grand Finale. Oh god it’s already 8:30 you better go before Mr.Kim throws a fit because you’re late”

You both giggle ; “thank you for fixing the dress Naeun, see you later today. Well, probably tonight. Byeeee”

The rehearsal seems to never end. You’re squeezed in dozens of different outfits, gorgeous for sure but sO tight. Mr. Kim, the one who organised the runway, is such a perfectionist that you have to re-do some things multiple times before he’s satisfied. One time the lighting isn’t right, the other the models are walking too fast, not on beat and so on.

Everyone hates him for that but he always makes the best shows so you just follow.

After multiple tries, the rehearsal finally comes to an end. It’s already 4PM. You barely get time to breathe and go pee before you’re back into the ‘running-around-to-find-my-dress-and-fix-my-makeup-oh-god-i-gotta-be-on-stage’ crazy mess.

Walking on the runway feels amazing, running backstage is terrible.

It’s so hot and small back there you can hardly move around well.

It takes 2 hours for the whole fashion show to be over, one more for pictures outside the catwalk and chat with reporters. Since you’re kind of a famous model now, you get invited to the afterparty and spend few extra hours interacting with some celebrities that attended the show. Other models were invited and you’re happy to see familiar faces amongst them. Jimin, an old colleague and friend of yours, comes your way and compliments you. You chat with him for a while before deciding you’ve had enough for the day and leave the party. A few more people greet you on your way out.

A taxi takes you back to you company, where you left your stuff in the morning. You spend an extra thirty minutes getting rid of your heavy makeup and striping off that gorgeous but awfully tight golden dress you’ve been wearing ever since the end of the runway.

Now, you can FinaLLy go home. yassssss

It’s almost 12am when you leave the agency and climb into yet another taxi. The ride is quiet, background music playing over the car’s radio, and you take some time to look at what you were gifted for your performance : fancy makeup products, accessories, pieces of clothing-but not those from the runway, you sadly never get to keep those. Being kinda famous has its perks :,)

You then decide it’s time to warn Taehyung you’ll arrive soon and send him a few texts. As if he was waiting for them, he instantly replies saying he’ll be waiting for you and proceeds to spam you with heart emojis. Sometimes, it looks like this man just discovered what emojis were and is trying to use them as much as possible. What a child…

It’s way past midnight when you finally step into your duplex and the first thing you notice is that the place is way too quiet.

Maybe Tae went back to sleep, who knows, it’s super late after all…

:(

You remove shoes and jacket and drop your bags in the entrance before going further and you call out quietly “anyone here? Tae, you sleeping?”

There is a faint glow from the tv on your right but the sound has been muted.

Weird…

“Taehyung ?" You call one last time

Suddenly, two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist and you’re pulled into someone’s chest. You gasp, almost scream, but soften up when you feel the warmth on your back

“Hi baby” a deep voice says in your ear, sending chills down your spine “I missed you”

You turn around and are very pleased to see a handsome face and a warm exposed chest your boyfriend smiling at you.

“Mhm, missed you too” You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chest, happy to hear his heartbeat. Taehyung places his head atop of yours and gently strokes your hair. You tighten your grasp around him and hum.

Few seconds later, he lifts your chin up and gently lays a kiss on your lips.

“How are you doing?” He asks, his right hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of it is comforting.

“Exhausted, but you know how it goes” You shrug and he smiles

“Not too tired for dinner ? I could cook something if you want”

“Mhm... let me just go shower and put something else on” You sadly let go of him

“Sure, go ahead” he whispers and you give him a kiss before regretfully tearing yourself away from him.

You walk up the stairs to your bedroom, where you find the bed undone. You smile, Taehyung never really liked making the bed and, very honestly, neither did you. You slump onto the mattress and bury your face into the pillows, inhaling his scent. Lavender. Relaxing. Just like he is.

After a warm shower, you find a t-shirt Taehyung left on a chair in the room and wear it. It’s big enough to reach your thighs and, if you were more energised, you’d probably stay like this. You grab large pants and put them on.

Once again, you smell lavender all around you.

When you’re back in the living area, you see Taehyung busying himself in the kitchen. He hears your steps and his eyes find yours as a smile appears on his face when he notices that you’re wearing his shirt

“My shirt looks better on you than it’d ever do on me” He teases, his gaze longing on your frame.

“maybe I should keep it then” you smile and ask ; ”Do you need any help?”

“no no no no no, you’ve worked enough already. Go and have some rest. I'll call you when everything’s ready okay?”

Too tired to argue on this anyways -and thankful for the given rest-, you go lay down on the couch, your body oriented to let you look at Taehyung.

As he hums and moves to the chill music that was playing in the background, you start to detail his beautiful figure. From the curl of his dark hair (which you knoW are so so soft to the touch) to his beautiful profile and his nose you love so much down to his broad shoulder and then his tanned abs you see from time to time when the opened shirt of his pyjama moves according to his steps.

oH! Let’s not forget his perfect hands gripping at the pan’s handle while he cooks… vegetables? Something like that yeah.

Taehyung is giving his best into what he’s cooking. Vegetables with rice, that’s the only thing he could do quickly.

Quickly as in less than half an hour, unlike his friend Namjoon who’d take this time just to cook the rice.

The music he put earlier is slowly starting to bore him. After washing his hands, he reaches out for his phone and plays a different playlist. It’s one you name yourself when the two of you were still friends (aka not dating yet). “Taetae fm” because you once joked he should have his own broadcasting channel on the radio. He’d always criticise the music playing so why not have his own channel 👀

“You know Y/n, I actually watched the fashion show live this afternoon. I mean, of course you know because I always do that haha. Anyways, you really were the highlight of the runway tonight. And I’m not saying this in a biased point of view. Okay I might be a bit biased as your boyfriend but I swear that it’s true!! You literally shone back there, especially in that gold dress you were wearing and even the audience was impressed by your looks maybe you didn’t see it on stage but some cameras filmed their reactions and everyone was looking at you. Really, you were so gorge-oh” Taehyung looks at you and smile fondly “Of course you’re asleep, baby”

He lets his phone aside and checks the now cooked food before making his way to the couch. There’s a blanket on the sofa, he covers you with it, scared you might get cold. Taehyung put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places a kiss on your chin.

You slowly open your eyes and find yourself face to face with him. You both smile.

“Hi there beautiful” He whispers

“what time is it? Did I sleep until the morning?” You’re scared of having slept through the entire nap without realising

“almost 1:20am, I just finished cooking. I thought you might be cold so I went to cover you with the blanket. You should go enjoy the food while it’s still hot, imma go to the toilet”

You nod as an answer and watch him leave upstairs. Getting up from the warmth of the couch is the hardest part so you keep the soft blanket draped around your shoulders and walk towards the kitchen. You grab two bowls and two pairs of chopsticks that you place on the counter along with glasses and a bottle of water.

You then go take care of the rice and the vegetables, which you mix in the pan. The song playing changes and your favourite nighttime tune starts.

“I don’t want a friend, I want my life in two” you sing along

“Waiting to get there, waiting for you” Taehyung’s voice startles you as he grabs your wrists and pulls your back close to him. You smile as he makes the both of you dance slowly. You put his arms around you so it’s like he’s hugging you from the back. You swing around for a little while, enjoying the close proximity as you both softly hum the song, making your body vibrate against each other, moving in perfect coordination.

“I love you” he whispers in your ear and then kisses it, sending chills down your spine, before lifting one of your arm up to make you turn so that you’re now facing him “did my baby sleep well?” You nod as you place your arms around his waist, paying attention to go under the shirt so you’re touching as much skin as possible.

Taehyung chuckles before asking you in that same, chill-sending, low deep voice ; “Still hungry? Because I’m starving”

If you didn’t just wake up, you would’ve definitely caught that lust in his eyes and also the fact that this wasn’t as innocent as it seemed.

As an answer, your stomach growls pretty loudly, making Taehyung laugh . “I’ll take that as a yes. Sit down, princess. Let me take care of you”

You do as he says, jumping on a stool, detailing all of his moves. You only realise how hungry you actually were when you start eating. Rice with vegetables has never tastes better. You eat everything in less than 5 minutes when you’d usually take your time to finish your plate.

“Damn, that was a well needed dinner! Thank you Tae” you mess a bit with his soft locks

“Imagine me who was waiting for you all evening!! I was hungry too” He pouts.

“Oh come on, I was working today. Cardio in heels isn’t the best way to wake up, let alone spend the whole day standing in tight clothes. When I think you has a day off… pfff. I saw the bed, I’m sure you stayed there all day, you lazyyyyyyyyy ass.”

He mumbles some gibberish and you giggle, knowing that you're right. He looks away, crossing his arms and obviously sulking. You leave your stool and stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leave a few kisses on his cheek and neck

“- Don’t be such a babyy. You know I love you.

- You do?

- of course, you dummy” you bop his nose "Sooo, what do we have for desert?

- You. Uh I mean!! Yoghurt, fruits, cakes, fruits…anything” he clears his throat

“Great! What do you prefer?” You open the fridge

“ I’d very happily eat you out honestly but an apple sounds good”

“Oh sur- wait whaT!?” You snap your head to him, eyes wide open

what did he sayyyyyyyy?????

whaT am I even supposed to say noW oh my goddddd

You close the fridge’s door, suddenly not so yogurt-hungry.

There’s a sudden silence between the two of you, only disturbed by the music still playing in the background.

“Mhm? What is it?” He turns around to face you, asking so innocently “did I say something wrong ?”

This man knows what he is doing for sure. Has he ever been that straightforward before ?

Taehyung stands and closes the distance between your bodies, now towering over you.

He lowers himself slightly to speak in your ear “what is it baby? Mhm?” You feel his smile on your cheek when he lays a kiss on it “what happened to my all proud and fierce y/n who was so confident telling me I was being lazy all day, huh? Tell me” He lays another kiss on your temple

OkaY

now he’s being a tease

Great

1 A.M. fluffy and bare chested teaser Taehyung

gReAT

Anyhow, it’s a good turn on.

Really.good.freaking.turn.on

Being tired and turned on was definitely not a good mix for you. You could feel the heat rising in your body and hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“Tae…”

He laughs gently seeing you silently begging for more, brushing your face with his lips, teasing another kiss.

“Tsk tsk, you gotta speak darling, I cannot guess”

You should calm down and go to sleep, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow you should definitely-

“Fuck-“ You sigh and grab his face, sealing your lips together while closing your eyes.

It doesn’t take long for that kiss to turn into a heated make out session.

You grab and pull some of his dark curls while his hands travels under his your shirt.

You break the kiss just a second to catch your breath.

“Have i ever told you you have the perfect body?” Taehyung asks

“Did I ever tell you how perfect you are??” You reply

He laughs, deep raspy laugh.

You’re too tired for this

And because you’re tired, you’re even more horny :D

Taehyung puts his hands behind your thighs and you jump, locking your legs around his waist, hands still in his hair, lips against his while carries you to the bedroom.

He leaves your lips to travel down your jaw and then collarbone. You throw your head back.

Taehyung gently lays you on the mattress of your king sized bed and makes it his personal mission to pleasure you tonight.

[cafecourage]

The moment they realized they loved you. (Isekai Au Edition) Part 2

If you want more information on this AU here is the Link!

Sky:

- It started slow and very sweet.

- He took a long time realizing who you were. But he still believed in the others when they started to recognize you.

- When your behind him cheering you on, he feels invincible. Since during his adventure Impa tore into him pretty badly when he was late to save Zelda.

- Your presence is comforting to him. It feels like home despite being on the ground.

___________________________________

Being back in Skyloft was a small blessing for the chain. The tight knit community had already welcomed the travelers with little to no questions about their origins. It was a stroke of luck that they landed in front of the bazaar in the early morning when no one else was up yet. Their first day there was a resting day in attempt to gather information on the black blood monsters and inventory checks.

Sky took his time catching up with everyone. Letting the Headmaster and Sun know about the situation that had the hero hopping around in the timeline. Then he needed to go down to the small settlement on the surface to check on them. Sun did already tell him that things where still safe down there and that he should take a break. But he still would rather check it out himself just in case something did happen it better to be safe than sorry.

Despite being able to jump off from any of the decks in Skyloft. He automatically went towards the plaza near the tower of light. During his adventure it was the quickest way to the opening above Faron Woods. Sky was just turning the bend when he saw his Loftwing was already there on the docks and under its wing was You. You were trying to put a small amount of distance between you and the bird but the creature kept bring you closer to hold.

“(Y/n)!” Sky was baffled at his Loftwings reactions to you. He dashes to your side. “I’m so sorry. He isn’t normally like this.”

“It’s fine.” Your uncontrollable laughter the was full with childlike glee finally reached him. “In fact, I think he recognizes me!” You whispered smiling. The Crimson Loftwing cooed now leaning into his masters touch as Sky softly pet the side of his necks. Sky wondered if what you said was the truth. Since a Loftwing and its rider do share a special connection, it’s fully possible that his also felt and heard you. “Hey Link?” Suddenly your demeanor changed. “Can I ask something?”

Your bashful and embarrassed expression made Sky feel soft inside. “Of course.”

“One of these days can you show me around the sky or the surface?” You shifted awkwardly from him. He actually forgot that you haven’t physically been to his era before. That for the longest time you only saw things from his point of view without the ability to truly explore anything. “You don’t need to- “

“Are you free now?” He quickly cut you off. “I was actually heading down there now to check on the settlement.”

“Really?” Your face seems to brighten but then you remembered something and leaned closer to him whispering again “I don’t have a Loftwing though.”

He gently takes your hand “my Loftwing is strong enough for both of us.” He guided you to his side. You eyed the bird with uncertainty but you let him help you up onto the harness. Sky got on behind you reaching around you to get the reins. “Hold on to me if you get scared.” He teasingly warned and before you could question him. His Loftwing took off nose diving off of the deck.

You let out a small squeak as you latched onto his tunic. Sky almost felt bad that he actually scared you. But once in the air and on a steady path you finally opened your eyes again. “Woah!” The sight was nothing special but it was still just as beautiful. The clouds below them created an endless sea of white. “It’s so pretty.” Pride bubbled up as Sky watch you taken in the beauty of his home. This was just the start of what he wanted to show you as different locations came into his mind. “Hey.” You looking over your shoulder with hope in your eyes. ”Next time can we go to the Lumpy Pumpkin? I remember you singing high praises about their pumpkin soup.”

Sky tried to think of what he wanted to do tomorrow, right now there wasn’t anything that needed his attention. “If we have time tomorrow, I can take you there for lunch or dinner.” Maybe he could take a break from being a hero for a bit.

“Great! It’s a date then.” You sent a wink his way that sent his brain into a haywire before looking back into the endless sky. He was lucky his Loftwing is able to steer himself. As dot’s where finally connecting in Sky’s head. Pure love and affection bubble up as he embraces his new found feelings.

- He will be the one to uno reverse card on you. All love and affection will drown you instead. There was so much he wanted to tell you before to thank you for being by his side and encouraging him.

- Cuddle time will start here because of his need to make sure you know your loved too.

- He would be the one to confess first, but it would probably be played off as friends telling each other that they love each other.

- You’re not dense but overly affectionate. He might just need to spell out how you make him feel on a daily basis. Maybe then you’ll understand what you’re doing to him.

___________________________________

Legend:

- It hit him like a freight train.

- He isn’t mad at you. He is mad at himself. He had made his dues with what the people he had lost. Yet here he is. Already going too far.

- Your ability to make the situation brighter slowly eroded the walls he put up years ago.

- It might be all in his head, but he swears that you always make sure his needs are met even if he is trying to hide them.

___________________________________

“Link!!!” You barreled towards him ignoring the questioning stares the people of Windfall Island. “Link! Link! Link! LOOK!!!” You hold up a pink rabbit stuffed animal that you bought. “It you!”

The veteran in question huffed, “seriously of all things.” He turned on his heels “I’m going back on the ship.” He didn’t know why he was still entertaining your antics at that point.

“Wha- Hey! I was joking!” They were stocking up in Windfall and Legend was not happy to be on a boat nor in the ocean again. He wouldn’t say that he afraid.

Just… cautious…

You on the other hand looked like you were having the time of your life on the ship talking the it’s Captain and crew member’s. Yet most of the time you would stay by his side. The reason was obvious but nether wanted to talk about it.

Which is why you dragged him out to the port island. ‘An easy distraction.’ You told him, ‘I can show you around so we won’t get lost!’ He wasn’t worried about that. Legend trusted you. A fact he will never say out loud. However, he would rather hole up somewhere and escape the world then be here.

A soft hand took his when Legend reached the docks. He already knew who it was since you’ve been following him like a lost puppy all day. “One more place please?” You looked at him expectingly. “Then you can go back.”

“What are you a child? Why can’t you just go alone?” Legend snapped back, “you don’t have to be around me.”

“Legend I like being with you.” You pointed out like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “However.” You let go of his hand. “I also understand if you don’t want to hang out anymore and want to go rest.” There was no fighting back. No offense to his words. Nothing. Just a warm smile that filled him with warmth, that was accompanied by words fueled by unlimited care and understanding which made his heart beat faster. The silence between you two seemed to give you an answer. You turned around. A panicked feeling shot through. Legend was surprised with himself when he almost reached out to you when you walked away.

Instead, he watched you go. In the wake of his own emotions, he realized what had been happening. How he has been acting around you was starting to get familiar. “Not again.” He whispered disappointed in himself.

___________________________________

- Legend is going to be bitter about it. He isn’t going to take it out on you, but his mannerisms are going to be different after this.

- Not quite closed off, but it’s almost like he is mourning another loss.

- You would need to drown him in love and affection before he realizes you like him back. But like Twilight, he is going to be heartbroken if you decide to leave him to go back home.

___________________________________

Wild:

- Its progression was as natural as breathing.

- He just got off of his adventure so he always had you by his side. Just being near you is second nature.

- If anything, he was more than excited to actually have you physically be here alongside him.

- It rare to see ether of you not near each other when traveling together you two are inseparable.

___________________________________

The only upside of being in Wild’s Era is that the champion knew what to expect, it’s chaotic was normal for him and actually brought him a bit of peace. You came with that peace of mind. Having you join the chain to him was almost like you never left his side in the first place. From the moment he woke up after being told his name and what he needed to from Zelda, he was aware of your presence. You were the one to encourage him to explore the ruin kingdom. You were the one to recognize structures that the people in his world didn’t know about. The weird part was that you didn’t know how he was before the calamity, but he didn’t question that fact too much. He was more than happy to have someone treat him as a different person from before.

Now having you physically with him. Wild wanted to bring you to all of your favorite locations that you vocally told him about.

But that had to wait for now, because the downside to Wild’s Hyrule was the amount of things that wanted him dead. Moblins? Bokablins? Those guys are fine to fight they were push overs unless infected with the black blood. Actually, most of Wild’s monsters were like that. Once you get a hang of fighting them and recognize their patterns. They are a breeze.

A common threat that was annoy to deal with however, was the Yiga Clan. Which leads to the situation Wild and the others found themselves getting in while on the road to Hateno. He should of figured that they were going to strike when he got back to his Era. But he honestly didn’t think it would be in this quantity they were out number but thanks to Warriors taking control of the situation where managing. He was trying to make sure everyone was accounted for and was alive when he heard a string of curses coming from his right.

You had been knocked on the ground by a Blade Master. Your sword was near the clan member. Wild felt his world freeze in that moment as he bolted towards your body. With a falcon bow in hand. Wild side jumped. Locked in an ancient arrow and let it go.

The arrow sped towards the Blade Master. Hitting him directly. Turning the Yiga member into a bunch of Sheikah blue ribbons before collapsing into an orb where the arrow hit.

Wild slide towards your body. A pulse he needed to feel a pulse. Placing the tips of his index and middle finger on the base of your thumb and wrist. He pressed lightly to feel the blood pulsing beneath his fingers. A sigh of relief escaped him. Wild was lucky that the battle had come to an end. As the other Yiga members ether retreated in horror of what happened to one of their own or cut down quickly.

Hyrule join him soon after shooing him out of the way gently. Wild didn’t move from your side all that much. He didn’t want to. Just in case you left him too. He doesn’t know a life without you in it. A world like that just doesn’t exist.

Wild knows the name of the cause of his feelings. It’s the same thing that drives him to share his experience with you. He wants to be by your side and to make you happy.

___________________________________

- He is protective but not controlling. If anything, he wants to spar with you more. So, you can get better at fighting.

- You can bet he is going to start making you taste the different foods he had discovered, or sneak out to visit areas in his world more often. He doesn’t want you to miss a thing.

- There is so much he wants to do with you. So much he wants to share. So many things to say. That he just wants to do it all at once so there can be new things you both can discover together.

(Part 1)

[sour--disposition]

Chaotically Unchaotic

-

harry lewis x fem!reader

-

please check my masterlist to see if requests are open

A tight, skimpy dress, dangerously high heels and more liquor than sense? Definitely sounds like a Sidemen night out.

You, Talia, Gee and Freya had walked into the club at least half an hour after the guys had told you to meet them there, if not later. What? Its not your fault that your eyelash just wouldn't stick in the corner and that one piece of Gee’s hair just wouldn’t hold its curl right. 

The guys were all congregated in or around a booth in a cordoned off section just behind the bar, because of course JJ had set something somewhat private up for the first big night out in what felt like years. You saw one of them lean over to the man in front of the velvety rope and point towards the four of you, presumably to make sure you were let through. And, as soon as you approached, he unhooked the rope and let you step through, each of you smiling and mouthing a small thank you to the man.

“It took you all long enough!”, Vik laughed loudly as you dispersed to mingle amongst the group. It earned him a half-hearted swat to the chest from Talia, resulting in Vik acting like he’d just tried to firm a punch from JJ.

You walked straight over to where Harry was sitting, sliding an arm over his shoulder and leaning down to drop a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’ve missed you, stranger”, you whispered, angling yourself to catch a quick peck on the lips.

“I hope you don’t treat all strangers this way”, he teased, shifting slightly so you could perch yourself on his lap. “I’d be very jealous, just saying”.

“Only the prettiest ones”, you replied, batting your eyelashes at him until he caved and let out that beautiful laugh of his. “I really have missed you, though”, you told him honestly, reaching forward to grab the cocktail that he’d bought you before you’d even arrived.

“I’ve missed you, too”, Harry said, resting his chin on the bare skin of your shoulder. “I was thinking maybe we don’t stay out all night, get home at a somewhat decent time, grab a pizza, watch some Blue Planet or something?”, he suggested, hand snaking round your waist to hold your thigh.

“Boggo and Y/N going home early!?”, Ethan asked incredulously from beside Harry. “That’s the most un-you thing I’ve ever heard!”, he snorted.

“Just because we have a little fun after a drink or three”, you scoffed, flicking your hand dismissively in Ethan’s direction.

“You and Harry are worse than Ethan and Harry, and that’s really saying something”, Simon laughed from the other side of the booth, everyone laughing and nodding along in agreement with him.

So, you and Harry had a small history of causing chaos on a night out. There were enough pictures of the two of you proudly posing with road signs you’d managed to dismantle or traffic cones you’d ran down the street with, and thats before you even delve into the album of videos of the two of you managing to create havoc just by walking home at 3am. Don’t even get Tobi started on how he found you and Harry in the middle of the road after one too many cocktails on a group get-away to who knows where, God knows when.

“They’re just jealous, imagine Talia and Simon running off to nab a traffic cone”, you snort, giggling as Talia lovingly rolls her eyes at you for what could be the hundredth time that night.

Harry started laughing before he’d even opened his mouth to speak. “Sorry, but just imagine Freya and Josh doing something like that”, he wheezed, causing both you and Ethan to join him in the hysterics.

It wasn’t long before people started trickling over to the bar and then to the dance floor. “C’mon. Let’s get a drink and dance!”, you urged Harry, as if it would take any convincing to get him to dance with you. You took his hand as he led you to the bar, paying for your drinks as you stayed safely nestled against his side, under his arm.

“Here you are, beautiful”, Harry smiled, handing you the cocktail glass. You thanked him with a kiss to the scruff on the underside of his jaw, followed by a soft nuzzle to the same spot with you nose. “What?”, he chuckled, nervousness clear in his voice as he reached up to scratch that one spot on his chest.

“Nothing”, you sighed happily, “I just like this stubbly stuff you’ve grown, it’s a good look on you”, you hummed into the skin of his jawbone. You felt Harry’s arm pull you even closer and his hand slip just a little lower, fingers brushing where your dress had slightly ruched over your bum. “Come dance with me”, you begged, hand wrapping around two of his fingers to tug, almost like an incessant child.

Harry downed the rest of his drink, which shouldn't have been half as attractive as it was, before following your lead to the dance floor. Before you’d even found a spot, you’d seen more than half of your friends dancing amongst the crowd, either with each other or a stranger they’d found on the dance floor. You heard Harry shout something over to Ethan who, once you’d glanced over to see, was all over a beautiful girl in a skin tight dress.

You felt the music just as much as you heard it, heavy bass resonating through your chest as Harry wrapped his arms around your waist and let his forehead drop forward to your shoulder, pressing a kiss there for good measure. With the drinks from Talia’s and the few from the bar working their way through your veins, you couldn't help but relish in every part of Harry that made contact with you. Tight hands on your hips, occasionally roaming up to your waist, head on your shoulder, chest pressed completely to your back... It was heaven.

You turned in his arms, grinning at him as his hands rested on your bum cheeks, squeezing tightly, even if just for a moment. Your arms came up and over his shoulders, one hand tangling into the messy pile of dirty blond hair that was just so Harry it almost hurt, the other holding onto his jaw as you reached up to kiss him properly for the first time that night.

His hand on your lower back pulled you impossibly closer, like he was scared you’d slip away as soon as his lips left yours. “I’ve missed you”, he whispered hotly into your mouth. You knew he was only being this confident because of the alcohol, you could taste it in his words and his kisses. He kissed you again, one hand moving up from your waist to hold your face, fingers slipping past your ear and into your hair to anchor you to him.

“Excuse me, we are in public!”, you heard Freya laugh near you. Harry groaned into your mouth, dropping his head between the two of you briefly before looking up to Freya and Josh. “Honestly, Y/N, if you aren’t running off with traffic equipment, you’re sucking face with baby Boggo on the dance floor!”, she chastised you with a grin.

“Excuse me, Miss Nightingale! I’m younger than Harry!”, you laughed, letting your head drop forward onto the front of Harry’s shoulder. “Do you want another drink?”, you asked him, already taking his hand to guide him back to the bar and the booth.

Maybe 2 hours and several drinks later, everyone was talking about moving onto somewhere else, as the crowd had significantly died down and last orders were about to be called. “Do you wanna?”, you asked Harry quietly.

“Not really, just wanna cuddle you”, he pouted, holding you tightly around the middle. “Me and Y/N are gonna take off if you guys are heading out”, Harry said over the group, earning a few funny looks from his friends. The both of you shrugged it off with a laugh as you got to saying your goodbye’s to everyone, dropping kisses onto the girls’ cheeks.

Harry led the two of you out of the club, arm wrapped protectively around you as lads with the same idea as the rest of your friends eyed you up. Once you were outside, he pulled out his phone. “Don’t bother, we’re like 5 minutes from yours, we’ll just walk”, you told him, wandering over to a wall to take your shoes off.

“Are you sure?”, Harry asked, clearly sobering up just a little in the fresh air.

“Positive”, you smiled brightly at him, holding your shoes in one hand and reaching out for his hand with the other.

You and Harry walked back to his apartment building with your hands swinging between the two of you. He told you about how the move into the new apartment had gone, and how he was missing Lux, and what he’d packed on FIFA the night before. You told him about your stream, and the new video you were working on to upload to your main channel, and the stupid content you’d found on your Reddit for a second channel video.

Harry opened the door to the apartment and you walked through to his room, dropping your shoes and already making to take your make up off. “Are you gonna join me for a shower?”, you asked him as you un-styled your hair. He nodded, toeing his shoes off and coming over to help you unzip your dress.

He washed your hair for you, careful not to make too many knots and he scrubbed the shampoo into your scalp. As you let the conditioner sit, you swapped positions and washed his hair, giggling as he moaned at your fingers running through his hair. He rinsed your hair, almost causing the both of you to fall as he leaned over to press a kiss to your lips, leaving you both a giggling mess in his shower. Harry picked up a cloth, holding one side of your head to keep his hand steady, and removed the tracks of make up that you’d missed and had melted off in the heat of the shower.

“Thank you”, you murmured, blushing when he replied with a kiss to the tip of your nose.

Harry bundled you up in a towel and attempted to wrap your hair into ‘the magic hair towel-ly thingy’, as he called it. You were still laughing at him as you made your way into the bedroom once you’d righted the towel on your head. “You sort yourself out and I’ll go order pizza? The normal, right?”, Harry suggested, already pulling some shorts on. You nodded, kissing him as you walked past to what had been your side of the bed for as long as you could remember.

As Harry ordered food, you towel dried your hair and tied it up, pulled on some underwear and slipped one of Harry’s shirts over your head. You couldn't help but smile as you got a whiff of freshly showered Harry from his top, clearly having only worn it this morning before getting ready to go out. That, mixed with the detergent that Harry religiously bought and the soft smell of what could only be described as ‘sleepy Harry’, made you feel right at home in a matter of seconds.

You could hear Harry talking to Cal as you walked out into the living room. “Hey, Cal”, you smiled, walking over to kitchen to make yourself a cup of tea. “Anyone want tea?”, you asked happily, turning around with your mug in your hand. “Harry? You okay?”.

Harry seemed frozen in place, eyes locked onto you. Worry filled you instantly. Had you done something wrong? “You just look really beautiful”, Harry smiled from the sofa, blushing when Cal scoffed and gagged, leaving the living room.

After pizza and a few episodes of Blue Planet in bed, you and Harry called it a night, knowing fine well that your friends probably weren’t even home yet. “I’m glad we left early”, you whispered into the small space between yours and Harry’s faces.

“Me too”, he sighed, and even though you couldn't see his smile in the dark of his room, you could hear it dancing over each of his words. “It was nice to just spend some time with you, I’ve missed you the last few days”, he murmured.

“I’ve missed you, too”, you said into the darkness, the two of you shuffling around so you could lay against his chest. “This is better than stealing a traffic cone, though”, you smiled against his bare skin.

And if you awoke the next day to the group chat filled with pictures of traffic cones that you and Harry could’ve run off with and Ethan complaining that the two of you were so chaotically unchaotic that it hurt his head more than his hangover did, well...

[seyenna]

Philza and/or Techno and/or Ranboo fic recs

just some of my fav dsmp fics, mainly phil, techno or ranboo bc i’m biased but also a bunch of sbi and others

this one goes out mainly to zablr discord my beloved

pls tell me if the links don’t work

all of these are on ao3

rating\status(complete/ongoing)\warnings\word count\misc tags

ichor flows free amongst the iron by summer_rising

T\o\violence\13k\series\gods AU

Summary:

A gods and goddesses AU of the Dream SMP, dramatized for all our benefits.

First work:

  "Two gods meeting on a mountaintop overlooking the stormy sea? Very classy, Dream, I appreciate your taste."

  Dream didn't turn to look at him, but the faint shake of his shoulders let Techno know he had heard.

  "Scar's healing up nicely, I see," Techno mumbled with a light nod of his head.

  "Mhm. Cut nice and clean. Not that I expected any less from you, of course."

   ~~

   The god of power and the god of luck meet on a mountaintop to discuss Luck's standing in the ongoing political disaster.

We're Only Young by ImperialKatwala

G\o\-\66k\series\Dream & Technoblade

It's easy to forget amid the chaos and bloodshed how similar - and how young - Dream and Technoblade really are.

And when the sun comes up, you'll find a brand new god. by SkyboxZoo

M\o\violence\19k\gods AU

Summary:

The wounds from the fight had healed nigh instantly, but the golden blood still soaked Techno’s shirt. His cloak had gotten torn off and his hair had fallen out of its pony-tail. Ichor pooled in his boots. The man left a trail of golden, bloody footprints in his wake.

old gods (new gods) by WriterWinged

T\o\-\9k\series\gods AU

Summary of first work:

Survival, Blood, Madness. Philza, Technoblade, Wilbur Soot. Three gods who have never cared for mortal life, who play with them when they want to, who kill their toys just as easily. How, then, did a mortal end up in their hands?

This House Is A Fucking Nightmare by SilverWing15

T\c\-\17k\series\sbi

Summary:

AU Where Phil isn't quite as willing to stand by while his sons drop like flies

Summary of third part (my fav):

Does lingering too long in the shadow of a god make you a god? The voices in his head seem to think so.

His brothers know he's older than them but they don't know how much

OR: Technoblade doesn't think his brothers realize how different they are from ordinary men. After all, ordinary men may fight the gods, but they don't win.

It's been a long day. by BecausePlot

G\c\-\3k\Philza & Ranboo

Summary:

Sides are bad: he knows that much. He’s seen it tear people apart time and time again, so when he decided to separate himself from Tubbo and keep his distance, he knew he was in the right.

Well. He thought he was in the right, at the time. Sitting all by himself on the steps to the Prime Path, he’s not so sure anymore.

Yes, the sides might have torn the others apart, might have made them so weak that they have no choice but to fold under Dream’s hand, but at least they aren’t lonely.

So are sides bad?

‘I don’t know.’

~*~

Or, Ranboo looks out at the ruins of L'Manburg, feeling more lost and lonely than he ever has.

But, as he soon finds, he's not as alone as he thinks.

the voices in my head, they say a lot of things by rosyasteria

-\c\violence\1k\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

Some days the voices didn’t listen. They didn’t let up. They screamed instead of whispered, relentless, assaulting his ears until they bled.

tell them i was the warmest place you knew and you turned me cold by rosyasteria

-\c\-\2k\Techonblade-centric

Summary:        

Technoblade cared. But in the end it just fucked him over.

For the majority of his life, Techno felt like less of a companion, less of a family member, and more like a weapon to be wielded. 'The Blade' they called him; never 'friend'.

It Leaves Little Time for Anything Else by mirandible

M\c\-\1k\part of series\Dream & Technoblade

Summary:

   A young man aims for the top, but fate has other plans for him. So does Technoblade, apparently.

   (Or: answering the question of “Why does Techno hide his scars if they’re supposed to be some sort of trophy? Why keep your point of pride a secret?”)

the best requiem is a bar of silence (and I'll sing it, even if I must hold back my tears) by jello12451

T\o\-\10k\Philza & Technoblade

Summary:

   He can’t help the noise of celebration that escapes him. Techno- this means that Techno’s free, and he got his horse back, and everything is alright-

  Tubbo, filled with rage at Phil’s cheers, turns and impulsively shoots an arrow.

   He doesn’t expect to hit his target.

---

  Alternatively: What if Phil didn't have a bucket of water when Tubbo shot him?

Change fate by being aggressively kind by sircantus

T\o\-\13k\sbi, Philza-centric

Summary:

   “You do understand that you’re caring for the thing meant to bring destruction and chaos to our world, right?” The woman asks, Phil looking behind him fondly as Techno grabs at the ends of his wings.

   “He’s just a child.” Phil answers distractedly, humming as his wings get gently yanked at.

   “He’s the first of three to destroy life as we know it! Shouldn’t we, well, get rid of him?!”

   “Oh, no.” Phil raises his eyes with a sharp glare. “Believe me, I have my own way of preventing the apocalypse.”

   ---

   Or, Techno, Wilbur, and Tommy are basically chaotic forces of nature, destined from birth to end the world and bring destruction. Most who hear of the tale of them are trying their best to track them down, and to end the monsters while they’re still young, still just children.

   Phil has a different plan.

   (In which Phil raises the minecraft equivalents of the anti-christ with love and support, so much so to the point where the world ending is really just a funny thought, and Phil has three kids who casually have powers that are bit more extreme than anything else in the world)

I promised you that everything would be fine by findingkairos

G\c\-\6k\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

   manifestation: (n.)

1.     an event, action, or object that clearly shows or embodies something abstract or theoretical;

2.     a version or incarnation of something or someone;

3.     an appearance of a ghost or spirit;

4.     the Blood God.

When he's young and still alone, still establishing his reputation as the immortal warrior, Technoblade makes up an imaginary friend.

Years later, the blood god is very real and very much a god: one that is prepared to do anything for their first and only friend.

the inner mechanism of a black box by Bee_4

T\c\violence, self-harm\Technoblade-centric

Summary:

   Technoblade lets himself get imprisoned for Philza’s sake. He doesn’t plan on being there long. Unfortunately, he’s underestimated Pandora’s Vault.

   There are things that will make even the Blade fall apart in due time, as it turns out.

carry all my sins by BananasofThorns

T\c\-\4k\Ranboo-centric

Summary:

Ranboo swallows. “All my armor and weapons and stuff are missing. Fundy and I were gonna go looking for them after the festival, I think.”

“I see.” Tubbo smiles again, but this time it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, it’s just a festival. We could probably find someone to lend you a sword or an axe or something.”

He starts towards the stage, waving at people when they call his name, and Ranboo follows. The original panic has dulled to a cold buzz in his chest, but apprehension still wraps itself around his body like chains. He doesn’t like being without his armor and tools; he feels too exposed, and if something happens, he’ll be helpless.

“Ranboo?” Tubbo calls, glancing back.

Ranboo shakes his head and hurries to catch up. “Yeah, it’ll be fine,” he repeats. “Everything’s gonna be fine."

Tubbo grins. “That’s the spirit.”

Rule 5: be loyal. L'manberg doesn't do well with supposed traitors. Ranboo deals with the consequences.

Sojourn by Lacy_Star

T\o\-\13k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

“Well…” Ranboo started slowly, “You see, uh… I kinda… don’t have a house anymore, obviously. Um… Phil found me in—“ He paused, cutting himself off and squinting at the floorboards— very discreet, “Phil… found me. And… um… He said I could stay by you guys. Like, um, by the dog house he wants to build?” He paused, then began to ramble, “But, uh, if you don’t want me here, I understand— and I’m sorry for coming in your house when you weren’t here, I swear I didn’t touch anything— it was just cold outside and—“

Techno just stared at him. And how, how was this the second time this had happened to him? How was this the second time he returned home after battle to discover an injured teenage boy waiting for him, seeking assistance with nowhere to go? And how badly had that ended last time, in nothing but betrayal and insults?

---

AKA: Phil drags a half-enderman home after Doomsday, and Techno decides that they can keep it. For now.

can an axe count as rent? by aboutfivebees

T\c\-\4k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

Ranboo’s struggling to settle into his new life on the Arctic Anarchist Commune, but at least he’s got bread.

or the struggles of an enderman hybrid to come up with a housewarming gift to give to his friends, who are just trying to adopt him

The Caged Bird Sings of Freedom by StarPrince_Punk

T\o\-\25k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

The Blade's stance was still tense, his body prepared to fight at a moment’s notice if need be. “What’s your name?” Phil asked “My… name?” The Blade asked. “Yeah. Your name isn’t actually The Blade, right? That’s like a stage name?” Phil tried to keep his tone light. “What’s your real name?” The Blade hesitated. “No one… No one’s called me by my name in a long time.” ------- When Phil comes across Ranboo in his panic room after L'Manberg's destruction, it reminds him of when he first met Technoblade. And just like when he met Techno, Phil's first instinct is that he has to help this kid. While living together, Techno and Ranboo learn that they're much more similar than they had previously thought, and Phil learns that it's not too late for him to be a better dad.

This already feels like more of a home by H3118ENDER

T\o\violence, death\18k\Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

As the ashes of L'Manberg settle the conflict continues to come to life setting the stage for a new wave of blood shed. Stuck slam in the middle of past and present friends Ranboo is coming to learn that even without nations to their names feelings and feuds don't die but people, people do.

A Shadow of a Shadow by unappetizingegg

T\c\-\4k\ Ranboo & Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

There were a few beats of silence, and then- “What are your plans, now? Do you need a place to stay?”

That caught him off guard. Surely he’d heard incorrectly. Phil was offering him a home, right after he’d orchestrated the destruction of his past one? It didn’t make any sense, none of it did. Why would Phil say that?

Then he remembered, he remembered Techno stopping him in the fight. He remembered being handed his book, the question in Techno’s gaze. He swore, in that moment, Technoblade, the Technoblade, had been worried about him. He remembered that he had been told to leave, to run, to get away and preserve himself. He had spared him, he remembered that Techno had spared him.

Techno had helped him. Phil had tried to protect him, to get him away from the danger.

They were there for him.

 ---

alternatively:

Ranboo is alone. But he really isn't.

Meritocracy by oddsbodkins

G\o\-\18k\Dream & Technoblade, sbi, medieval AU

Summary:

Dream is more successful than he'd ever imagined - but there's one thing that's been bothering him. Technoblade, his biggest rival, the Acolyte of the Blood God and King of the Arena, went missing last spring, just before Dream got the chance to duel him. Without that one achievement to pave his way, all the following victories have felt cheap.

So, Dream hired some goons to dig Technoblade up and pester him into coming back to the Capitol, for one last showdown. Easy enough, right?

Interlude I: "Promises to Keep" by Ozzyyy

T\c\-\1k\part of a series\Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

These woods are lovely, dark, and deep But I have promises to keep

And miles to go before I sleep And miles to go before I sleep.

--

Techno has a plan. It's crazy. It's insane, it's actually just batshit bonkers. But if chaos cannot be enjoyed together, then what's it worth, yeah? There's a certain beauty in watching the world burn from the center of the flames. Phil intends to be there.

I Don't Want To Start A Fight (wouldn't you rather start a riot?) by KryOnBlock

T\c\violence, death\15k\Technoblade & Philza & Ranboo

Summary:

An universal ping rang out from behind him, the third and final he knew, and Phil sobbed, clutching the body tighter.

Techno didn’t move.

It always has been Technoblade and Philza, Philza and Technoblade. Take on half, and you shall never go back.

Sheltered by Lulatic

G\c\-\6k\Ranboo & Technoblade

Summary:

It was cold outside. But Techno never heard Ranboo complain.

That was the best excuse he could muster to keep him out.

Antarctic Princes 'verse by BirchWrites

T\o\-\15k\series\sbi

Summary:

Loosely-connected one shots set in an AU where the Antarctic Empire and the Dream SMP are in the same world. Ordered chronologically, but each fic can be read as a standalone thing

Summary of first part:

Oh shit. Forget arrested; Dream’s going to have to tell Wilbur that he watched Tommy get stabbed for being terminally stupid.

May we cross paths again by QueenLunaFreed

G\c\-\1k\Dream & Technoblade

Summary:

“Even if tomorrow it’s just us versus the entire server, Dream, I’m telling you right now - I have confidence.”

---

Dream couldn’t comprehend the pacing contradiction in front of him, the weakness he could clearly see, but would never comment on. Because this man has been defying Dream's expectations since they first met, because despite them not being friends and having no reason to trust each other, Dream knew that Technoblade is the only person who he’d trust to do this right. To destroy L'Manberg alongside him yet again, this time for real.

leave me your starlight by findingkairos

T\o\-\18k\Technoblade & Philza

Summary:

For you the world, Phil.

Once upon a time, Philza Minecraft is the only person who does not shy away from the bloody teen that regularly turns the tide of war.

This cements a friendship that will last wars, empires, worlds, and lifetimes.

 ---

(Featuring: Back to Back Badasses, healthy relationships, accidental deification, intentional world domination, and Phil's past coming back to haunt his best friend.)

[beclynn-herondale]

Jace, Kit, and Mina shenanigans

Jace was visiting with Kit; Clary was spending time with her mother and Luke, as she always did when Jace went on his monthly visit to Kit. And they would tell each other all about their day when they went to bed together that night.

Jace would never have said it out loud but he wanted Kit to rely on him and need him, he wanted to be needed by him. He wanted Kit to trust him, but more than that he wanted Kit to know he really did care for him.

Tessa had also recently had her baby, Mina. She had said Jace should come by and meet her.

Tessa and Jem were good people, and Jace just hoped Kit wouldn't be like he was and push away from his found family, and hold them at a far distance. But he remembered people had to follow their own journey and learn things for themselves. He just wanted Kit to be happy. But Jace also knew, like him, Kit had some baggage and it made it difficult.

"Jace?" said Kit. They were sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea.

"Yeah. . .?" he said, realizing he hadn't been listening for the last few minutes.

"You didn't hear what I said, did you?" Kit sighed.

"I was zoning out thinking of interesting things," he teased.

"Probably not that interesting, considering it's you," Kit shot back playfully.

Jace grinned. This kid would be just fine, he thought.

"So," said Jace, "you're a big brother now."

"Yup. And I'll be great at it."

"There you go. There's the Herondale in you."

Kit stared at him with amusement, then said, "Tessa says you should hold Min Min."

"Min Min? Is that a  another nickname of hers?" If so Jace had to admit it was very cute.

"Yes. She has many nicknames," said Kit. "Because she is adorable."

"Kids and babies usually are."

Kit looked up. "You like kids, don't you?"

"They're alright."

Kit looked at him suspiciously. "Uh, huh." He then asked. "Well, are you and your hot fiancée Clary gonna have any?"

Jace choked on his tea. "What—what?" He thought he was probably flushing, as Clary always made him do even when she wasn't around. And Kit calling Clary that should be weird but he wasn't wrong, Clary was hot and his fiancée.

"Just saying, I'd make an amazing babysitter," Kit winked. "And I could teach your children all about memes and the future stuff, as well as turn them into my side. along with Mina. of course. They would be the best generation yet."

"Pffft," Jace let out.

It's true Jace and Clary had talked about having kids, but it was never a definite serious talk. Though Jace did want kids. "Why are you asking me this?"

"No reason."

"Uh, huh," he said. That was their thing, 'Uh, huh.'

Jem walked in then, holding who Jace assumed was Mina. "Hello, Jace," said Jem. "How are you?" He was smiling the warm smile that he he always had these days; Jace had thought it was the kind of smile that made you want to open up and trust. Jem was that kind of person who radiated kindness and warmth and goodness.

"I'm doing just fine," he said. "What about you?"

"I am amazing," he exclaimed. "Silly melon, is so beautiful and precious." Another cute nickname, he thought. "Would you like to hold her?" Jem asked.

"I. . .uh. . .sure," Jace said, hearing the unsureness his own voice, not knowing why it was there. Jem placed Mina in his arms; he couldn't help but remember holding Max for the first time, remembering that for the first time he had been absolutely terrified. Babies had always seemed so small and fragile to him, and at that time he had no idea how they worked. Of course, after Max Jace figured out that as he had said, they were tough. Max was not so little anymore, and now was on about killing all the demins, Jace was a very proud uncle. He looked down at Mina, she looked like Jem, he thought, but he could see Tessa as well. "Hello, Mina," he said.

The baby opened her eyes, looking up at Jace with an expression of curiosity. well, he assumed that's what it was. "curious are we?"

"She is," Kit put in. It was such a sibling thing, he thought.

Jem was watching the three of them with fondness, and a little sadness. Jace wondered if he was thinking of his parabatai Will Herondale; Jem had told Jace about him, and couldn't imagine not having Alec or being alive without Alec. It had made Jace feel a deep kind of sympathy for Jem.

Jace repositioned Mina in his arms so he could look her in the eyes. "So," he said. "Are you going to prank and trick your big brother?"

Kit stuck his tongue out at Jace, and Jace rewarded Kit by sticking his own tongue out right back at him.

Mina giggled, Jace felt his heart skip a beat. He'd made her giggle. It reminded Jace of hearing Max giggle for the first time, it had instantly defeated Jace, in a sense. Blueberry had had a place in Jace's heart from the beginning, Jace couldn't help but want to protect him, it had been the same with Rafe, and even young Emma and her braveness. And Jace thought it would probably be the same with Kit and Mina; he had a soft spot for kids. He had also realized that he had cared for Max, his little brother, the same. But that was a place that Jace tried not to venture to, as it only broke his heart all over again. Jace remembered how Izzy had told him that Max died clutching the toy soldier he'd given him all those years ago, it had shaken Jace. Max's death would always leave a missing piece in their family.

"I take that giggle as a yes," he said.

Jem laughed softly.

"Or," Kit said, "we might prank you endlessly and be chaotic rascals that haunt you."

"Bring it on, Kittiroo," Jace said, using the nickname he had for Kit. Knowing it was longer than his actual nickname but he gave a nickname to kids he liked. And Kit liked it, but would never admit it, ever.

"Whatever, Jacey Jace," he said.

They laughed.

——————

[ Two years later ]

Mina was now two, which meant her and her big brother Kit were up to no good when they came to visit or Jace went to visit them.

They both enjoyed playing tricks on Jace. And to think he made them cookies and tea. And played piano for them.

Jace was walking down one of the Institute corridors, looking through the open doors along their walls, trying to see if he could find the little trouble makers.

He was peering through one of the empty rooms when something came up behind him and said "Boo!"

He turned around, pretended to be scared as he saw it was little Mina. "Oh, you got me," he said.

She laughed. "I always get you."

He smiled at her. "Where's Kit?"

She shrugged.

"Little loyal one, you are," he said. "But if you tell me where he is, I'll give you a cookie."

Mina seemed to be considering this. "Come," she said.

Mina led him to another empty room, where they found Kit.

"Traitor!" he said.

"It's not her fault—" Jace began.

"Not Mina. You," Kit pointed. "I know you bribed her with cookies. You know we can't resist cookies."

"What can I say," said Jace. "I'm a master at bribery."

"Uh, huh," Kit said with a kind of sassy sarcasm. Kit also said 'Uh, huh.' in a way to say he is amused but very doubtful

"Hey, man. I can't help it, cookies are good," said Mina.

"It's not your fault, Min Min," said Kit. "It's the bad man's fault."

Jace gasped in pretend hurt. "The very implicaction of that is hurtful."

"Good," Kit said.

And Jace went over to lift the boy up. "You forget I'm bigger and stronger than you."

"No!" exclaimed Kit, but he was laughing, and Jace always liked to hear him laugh out loud.

"Fight him off, Kit," said Mina.

They ended up wrestling on the floor with Mina cheering for Kit like the loyal sister she was. Them when they were both tired they burst into laughter.

——————

Kit, Jace, and Mina were sitting on a couch while Jem talked about reincarnation; 2 old Mina wore a serious face for her age.

"You see this is why I believe in it so strongly," said Jem, beaming.

"Yes, I see," said Jace.

"It is interesting," Kit said.

Mina nodded.

"Just think about it," Jem said, "you come back in a different form or something new after you die."

Jace wasn't sure he wanted to do this again, and by the look on Kit's face it appeared he felt the same.

"So is that why I'm so exhausted?" asked Kit, "because I've lived so many lives? And keep doing this shit again?"

It was a fair question to ask, Jace thought.

"Kit, no," said Jem. "And don't say that word in front of Min Min."

"Alec says something like that to me all the time," Jace put in. "Except it's usually 'Jace no!'"

"Yeh, well, you're both chaotic dum dums," said Mina.

They all looked at her.

"Wat?" she said.

Jem seemed to be wearing a look of amused agreement.

She was two and yet so smart, and had so many words at times.

"I prefer the term not afraid to take chances," said Jace.

"It's a Herondale thing," put in Kit.

Jace grinned at him. "There you go, bud."

Mina rolled her eyes, she also had a lot of sass for her age. Jem stared at them with a sort of affectionate exasperation.

——————

Jace was sitting beside Kit while he showed him memes and what they meant. Mina came to sit down beside them.

"Jace," she said.

"Yeah, Mina?"

"So you're like my great kind of nephew, right?"

"Great great great or something, yeah."

"So than I am like your great something aunt?"

"Yeah. . ." This would never not be weird.

"Does that mean I get to boss you around?"

Jace didn't know what to say to this.

Kit looked up from his screen. "Wait, does that mean technically I'm your adoptive great something uncle, now?"

"I. . ." Jace had to admit he didn't know what to say to any of this. "Are you two trying to confuse me?" he asked.

They both grinned mischievously.

Jace sighed.

"Hey, dear Nephew," Kit said. "Make me some cookies."

"Dear Nephew," Mina added. "Get us tea."

"You two think you're hilarious."

"Wrong," said Kit, "we know we're hilarious."

"Yeah well," Jace said, pulling them both into the hug, "I'd like to see you get free from my hug."

"No!" They both exclaimed, then tried to get free which turned into laughter from them all.

——————

Jace heard his phone buzz. He looked at it and saw that it was a message from Kit, he'd sent Jace a meme. Jace didn't always understand them, but apparently they were like jokes. He replied with laughing emojis. 

He exited his messaging app and stared his phone background; it was a picture of Max, Rafe, Mina, and Kit in the art room with Clary, who was teaching them to paint. He smiled at it. It was odd to say, but they were his kids in a way and he felt this strong urge to protect them from the world that would try to shut out their light.

He remembered the first time Kit had seen he'd taken picture and used it as his phone background. Kit looked surprised, as if he couldn't think of why Jace would do that. Jace ruffled his hair and quoted one of his memes to him that day. Kit liked to communicate with memes, and so Jace tried his best. Kit had also called Jace a mom a few times, though he wasn't sure why.

His phone buzzed again. This time it was Emma, her message said, "We need to form the sword-blondes club *winking emoji*" Jace couldn't help but laugh, then replied, "The world would've be able to handle that."

He had so many kids and young people who were dear to him now. Sometimes he thought back to his old self, who didn't have much of anyone and who believed that love was weakness. But now, when he looked at these kids, he knew that was lie. Now, he knew he was strongest because of love. He barely remembered it, but thought about the time he first met Jem, he'd been Brother Zachariah then. He'd told him, 'We fight best when that which we love is on the line.' or something along those words. It made Jace smile, to think somehow all this connected, the universe was a strange thing.

He then looked down at the engagement ring on his left ring finger. At some point him and Clary would work toward building a family, and have kids of their own. It both excited and frightened Jace; he wanted to be a father, of course. But he didn't want to snap one day and see his father come out, he didn't want his children to ever have to see something like that. Clary told him he wouldn't be like that, and she was always right, usually. These kids in his life now though, he felt were proof that he could be a good father.

He opened his phone back up and texted Kit a meme.

He was rewarded with, "Well, I'll be damed. He's learning!"

Jace replied with, "Watch your language."

"You watch your own language, Mr. acts like my parent."

Jace laughed. Kids were so odd yet so precious, they were the future, he thought.

Tagging: especially @khaleesiofalicante because she is having Jace and Kit feels, and I think she'll appreciate this. @chibi-tsukiko @spotsandclawsthings @megs-readstoomuch @magnus-the-maqnificent @replayfootsteps @my-archerboy @jazzkaurtheglorious @simply-ellas-stuff @bookfast-at-tiffanys

[astranva]

Dad!Harry having all daughters and all of them are either doing his hair or putting makeup on him while asking him silly questions about himself 😙

Title: Beautiful Chaos

Word Count: 1.9k

Category: dad!harry fluff

Warnings: Not proofread but none other than that.

That was lovely to write, too, my heart is about to buRST although I couldn’t find a suitable photo for the Instagram post I add at the end oops

There were a lot of things that your husband, Harry, enjoyed. Like, you spooning him after a long day at work, like smelling your coconut scent through the house, and like the fact that he was a father of 3 healthy girls.

Perla, Emerald, and Ruby were 3 girls whom Harry could go to hell and back for, not to mention you, but it had always been like that since the moment he met you.

Perla, being 7 years old, frequently took pride in her “big sister” title, wearing it like a sash around her and especially at her school and around her friends. Out of her sisters, she was the most protective of her family and it was something that had never failed to make you and Harry melt.

Harry even often found himself going on his phone, watching a video he had discreetly recorded when she was only 2. She was sitting on one of the kitchen stools, her eyes following your every move as you made her a sandwich with your baby bump showing, in your 9th month.

“careful, mummy.”

“Mummy, careful!”

“Thank you, mummy. Thank you, little baby.”

She had said during the video, adding a kiss to your bump after her last sentence.

Then Emerald came into the world, and Harry sometimes found himself wondering if his heart had doubled its size to fit all the love he had for his family.

Being 5, Emerald – or Emma as you all frequently called her – was quiet. She was a collected, flexible child who enjoyed art. Harry’s music? She would be listening carefully to it, saying comments that not all 5-year-olds would say;

“I like the piano here.”

“Uncle Mitch did a great job here!”

“Daddy, the bass is so low.”

And it only made sense that yours and Harry’s phones were full of pictures of her with her toy guitar around her shoulders, strumming as she cutely sang Harry’s songs or even some Fleetwood Mac into her green microphone.

And then came your youngest, being 3 – Ruby.

Ruby was a funny and hyperactive child. No hairstyle could sit still for her and more often than not, she sat with messy and chaotic brown hair, clothes a little disheveled. She was definitely more of a risk-taker than her sisters.

You remember only months ago at the beginning of the year, before the pandemic outbreak, when you and Harry were visiting a friend of yours from work and they had a big dog, a Great Dane, Perla and Emerald hiding behind you and Harry as they saw the dog but Ruby thrashed in Harry’s arms, demanding he put her down so she can “play with the puppy.”

And the one time you were at Anne’s, Ruby had curiously poked Dusty’s stomach, which the cat didn’t like to defend itself, it scratched 2-year-old Ruby’s hand.

Everyone stared in shock, waiting for Ruby to break down and cry but were surprised when she stared at her hand with a frown before looking at Dusty who walked off,

“Sorry!” She had only shouted at the cat before standing and grabbing a grape to eat.

With the pandemic outbreak, your family of 5 was quarantined in your London home. Refusing to leave the house unless it was absolutely necessary, you had guided your daughters to understanding how important it was to wear a face mask while outside because it was their duty towards all people, you and Harry included.

But with the pandemic, you and Harry were busy at creating ways that would keep the kids busy as well. From movie nights to activities, you both had tried to keep the kids entertained as well as aware of what was going on as best as you could.

It was one day when everything was just slow-paced, quiet, and chill. Harry had shaved his beard and left a mustache, one that your daughters were very amused by and had been all week.

You sat with your laptop on your lap, earphones connected as you watched The Good Place, but keeping the sound low enough for you to hear what your kids were conversing about.

Harry sat beside you, reading a book he had picked up a couple of days ago, his hand behind your back, fingers gently and mindlessly caressing your back, stroking it up and down in a comforting and soothing manner.

Perla and Ruby were sat together, coloring the most recent sketched you had printed them, while Emerald was sat on the floor against your legs, trying to make you and Harry a beaded bracelet from the toy set Harry had gotten her earlier.

“Mummy, does this look nice?” She asked, turning to look at you as she raised a pink-beaded thread string.

You lowered your laptop screen, looking at her. “It looks very nice, baby. Do you want me to tie it?”

“Yes, please.” She stood, handing you the string and watching you in awe as you did as if you were doing pure magic. You tied it in the way you had learned years ago, when friendship bracelets were a thing, making sure that it can get tighter or looser, however the wearer wanted.

“There you go.”

“Thank you, Mummy.” She grinned as she took it before moving to Harry, attempting to climb him which earned her a giggle from him as he helped her up, putting his book aside before mentally cursing himself because he didn’t know where he stopped.

“Look! I made you this!” Emerald grinned as she handed Harry the bracelet, watching excitedly and waiting for his reaction.

Harry gasped dramatically, “Woooow!” He looked at the bracelet lovingly, feeling like his heart was about to burst as he put it on, vowing to never take it off to himself. “I love it, Em. Thank you so much, baby.”

Emerald grinned bashfully, raising her shoulders closer to her cheeks as she did, Harry grabbing her to press a kiss against her hairline.

You watched with pure love, show long forgotten as you paused and gave your full attention to the scene.

Noticing what was going on, your oldest and youngest paused their coloring to approach you and look at their dad’s new jewelry.

“Good job, Em. Can you make me one?” Your oldest, Perla, asked excitedly as she eyed the bracelet before grinning at her shorter sister, who excitedly nodded at her.

“Me, too!” Ruby chimed, “But blue!”

“First, Mummy,” Emerald pointed at you, “Then Per,” she pointed at her older sister, “Then Rube.”

“Starting a business, aren’t you?” Harry joked, bringing her close to his chest as he playfully gnawed on her cheek, smiling as she squealed out in laughter.

As if the idea had been in her mind for a while, Perla suddenly blurted out a question:

“Daddy, can I put makeup on you?”

You grinned, looking at Harry and waiting for his reply.

He looked at you quickly before moving back to Perla, “I don’t see why not. Go on, get the stuff you need.”

“Ruby, you think we can paint daddy’s nails?” You asked your youngest with an excited grin, hearing your husband laugh.

Ruby nodded with a squeal, holding your hand as you stood up before Perla ran in front of you, you and Ruby following her as you ran towards yours and Harry’s room to get the stuff needed.

“Blue!” Ruby pointed at the blue nail polish bottle while Perla stood with your makeup bag, “And pink.”

“Yellow, too,” Perla added.

“How about we take the whole thing.” You chuckled as you gathered the box in your hands, walking behind your squealing, excited daughters.

At the sight of you, Emerald lit up, “I’ll do daddy’s hair!”

“You girls are giving Daddy a whole makeover, huh?” Harry laughed lovingly, welcoming all the attention.

You sat on Harry’s right, Ruby on his left with the blue nail polish bottle in her hand as she sat on her stomach with Harry’s hand waiting for her. Perla sat on Harry’s lap while Emerald climbed and seated herself on Harry’s shoulders, scrunchie around her wrist as she played with Harry’s hair.

Harry would have been lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how everything was right there and then. His wife was painting his nails in pink, pastel yellow, and baby blue while his 3-year-old was having her go with his other hand, getting polish on his cuticles but trying nonetheless. His oldest daughter brushing his cheeks with her mom’s blush brush, while his 5-year-old was gently pulling on his hair.

“Okay, done,” Perla closed the blush before moving to choose a lipstick, ending up with your red Mac one and opening it, “Daddy, do like that.” She instructed, puckering her lips. So Harry did, looking up as he did and trying to stifle his giggles as she put on lipstick on his puckered lips, “Okay, no more.” So he set his lips back, Perla continuing on applying the vibrant red color.

You hunched a little forward, a smile making its way to your lips, “Looking beautiful, baby.”

He hummed, his chest shaking with laughter as he felt the lipstick above his upper lip before Perla pulled back and looked back in the bag to apply anything more. He looked at you as you painted the last nail in pink, keeping only his middle finger’s nail in pastel yellow while his thumb and index were in baby blue, his ring and pinky’s being in pink. “Feeling so, too.” He said as he closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows, letting out a sigh of contentment for emphasis, overly dramatic, making you laugh.

It was 20 minutes later when his girls were done with their work and pushed him towards him and his wife’s bedroom, where they had a full-body length mirror.

He looked absolutely chaotic, and he loved everything about it. While his hair stuck in all directions, some lockets were collected by Emerald’s peach-colored scrunchie, one hand was nicely painted – which was painted by his wife – while the other was an absolute mess of blue but you can spot the attempt and it was nothing a nail polish remover couldn’t fix, his eyelids having some glitter on them, red lipstick nicely put except for a smudge right above his upper lip, cheeks too pink.

“What do you think?” Perla asked excitedly.

“Wow!” Harry breathed out, moving closer to the mirror, “I look glamorous!” He put his hands up in a peace sign, puckering his lips and popping up a leg as he posed, making his family laugh.

“Wait, let’s take a picture.” You grinned, raising your phone up as everyone got into a spot; Emerald had her arm thrown on Ruby’s shoulders as she smiled, Ruby sticking her tongue out, Perla choosing to sit down in front of her sisters, crossing her legs as she grinned with her eyes closed. You stood behind the hugging sisters, against Harry’s chest. Harry wrapped one arm around your shoulders from the back, the other around your waist as he smiled into the mirror, his head leaning down to press his cheek against yours. You held your phone with one hand, the other reaching up to hold on to Harry’s arm around you as you grinned before taking the picture.

“Let’s frame that.” Harry whispered to you in bliss, looking at the photo from behind you before moving to wrap both arms around your waist, “Thank you, love. For making me the happiest man alive.”