#and the rest of the chapters make up season 2 because I *think* I’ve already reached the mid of the fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eddiemunsons80sbaby · 1 month

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Never Say Never

Chapter 16

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 7.9K

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Two weeks later found you at the baseball diamond for the boys first game of the season. Your group took up an entire section of the bleachers, everyone had showed up to cheer the kids on. You were squeezed between Robin and Janice, Matt on Janice’s other side. In front of you were Dustin, Lucas, Max, Nancy, and Jonathan. Behind you was El, Mike, Will, Nolan, Joyce, Karen, and Hopper. Jeremiah had a literal cheering section that was there for him and it hit you that now, so did Eli. Somehow, the two of you were not only lucky enough to get Steve, but also the entire family that came along with him.

You caught sight of Judith out of the corner of your eye, walking up, looking more out of place than a string quartet at a toddler’s birthday party. Who showed up to a baseball game in heels and a pantsuit? Judith did. You fought the urge to roll your eyes or hide. Judith’s eyes darted over the bleachers, looking for you, wincing at the raucous ruckus the dad she was standing next to was making as he loudly bragged about his son.

“Uh-oh…the she-beast has arrived,” muttered Janice, nodding in your mother-in-law’s direction.

“I saw,” you sighed, rising to your feet, waving your hand to make it easier for Judith to find you. There would be no hiding. Sometimes being the responsible adult sucked.

Judith somehow managed to look both annoyed and relieved at the sight of you. Sending one last scathing look toward the oblivious father, she made her way to your section of the bleachers.

“Judith!” exclaimed Karen, climbing carefully down, opening her arms in welcome. “You’re Eli’s grandmother. I’m Jeremiah’s grandmother. And so is Joyce.” She pointed to the petite woman who was currently holding onto Jonathan’s head to step down.

“So you’re Steve’s mom or are you Steve’s mom?” questioned Judith, her eyes roaming over the two, judgement evident in her eyes. You didn’t have to try too hard to imagine what she must be thinking. Joyce standing there in her baggy jeans and oversized sweatshirt and Karen all done up with bright makeup and a dress that, gasp, stopped above her knees and even showed some cleavage. Oh, the horror.

Karen laughed, her hand coming to her breast, Judith’s eyes about popping out of her head at the amount of bosom on display. Because heaven forbid a woman had the audacity to dress however she wanted, to be proud of her own body. And honestly, Karen had every right to show off. The woman was stunning.

“Oh no. Neither of us are. Steve’s parents aren’t really in the picture sadly. I’m Nancy’s mom.” She turned, pointing to the petite brunette who waved with a smile. “Nancy is Jeremiah’s mom.”

“And I’m actually Jonathan’s mom,” Joyce explained, pointing to her son who simply lifted his hand. “He’s Jeremiah’s stepdad but I’ve known Steve since he was just a young kid in high school and he’s practically a son to me. So it feels like I’m his mom, too.”

“Yeah, and I’ve known him just as long because him and Nance met in high school so he kind of feels like a son to me too. The poor boy went from having no mom to multiple moms who are always in his business whether he wants us there or not.”

Joyce shrugged, “Honestly, everyone here is family. Everyone you see behind you are Jere’s aunts and uncles.” They all waved, Dustin and Max a bit more obnoxiously than the rest. “Well, except for Hop. He’s my husband. So I guess he’s kind of like Steve’s dad for all intents and purposes.”

Hopper snorted and then shrugged, “I’ll guess I’ll claim Harrington if I have to.”

“How…unconventional of all of you,” Judith managed, her teeth gritted in a tight smile.

Your eyes slipped closed in frustration. Of course this woman had to show up and ruin what was looking to be a perfect day. She couldn’t fathom something like found family. She believed blood came before everything else. The very idea that all of these people could come together and be more important to each other than the family genetics had stuck them with was inconceivable for a brain like hers.

“Well, come on up,” Karen invited, giving her a wave. “We can all scooch and make room for you with the grandparents.”

“Oh, that’s alright. There will be no need for any…scooching. I’ll just…” Her eyes quickly scanned the bleachers. “I’ll sit right here. I’ll be fine.” Before anyone could argue with her, she dropped down in front of Max who turned, giving you a, can you believe this woman, look.

You rolled her eyes, letting Max silently know you could not believe her but honestly, you could. You'd learned to expect nothing less than constant judgement and absolute disdain from that woman. No one was ever good enough in her eyes. Judith raised her bar so high that no one, who wasn’t Justin, could ever manage to leap over it. And even he’d struggled to make that jump sometimes.

You zoned out as the boys began talking about their latest D&D campaign in front of you, your eyes drawn to the sight of Steve out on the field with the team. He stood, surrounded by boys in baseball pants and white shirts with green stripes. And god he looked good, fitted jeans that showed off the muscles in his strong thighs, a moss green short sleeved shirt, his rounded biceps peeking out from the hem as he leaned forward, hands on his knees to talk to the kids. A baseball cap sat on his head and she didn’t know what it was but you loved him in a ballcap, all those beautiful locks spilling out from underneath.

It was difficult to wrap your head around the fact that it had only been two weeks since you'd both been brave to utter those three little words, three little words with an impact big enough to change the trajectory of your lives. Two weeks of you feeling like you were walking on air, like nothing could possibly go wrong, floating in your own little bubble of bliss. It felt like so much longer. You couldn’t even remember what your life had been like before Steve had become a part of it, the endless days of just trying to make it through, and you didn’t want to.

The two of you had spent nearly every night together since that moment on the beach, much to the boy’s excitement. Not sleeping over, that was still something you were trying to move slowly with for the boys’ sake, particularly Eli. Steve had been incredibly understanding about you wanting to wait a bit before you took that step. But almost every evening the four of you ate dinner together, sometimes at your house, sometimes at his. You played board games, watched movies, went for a walk down to the local ice cream place or rode your bikes over to the park for the boys to play.

Steve had surprised you twice at work, showing up with lunch for the two of you. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, and Will had invited the boys over one night for D&D last week and Robin had offered to take them to a movie last night to allow Steve and you some alone time. It was incredible. You hadn’t just gained Steve but an entire village of people who just showed up and were there, ready to help at a moment’s notice, and you were so thankful for every single one of them. You'd never had anyone but Janice and Matt and having so many people who were willing to pitch in, who enjoyed your kid enough to want to spend time with him, well it meant more to you than you could possibly express to them.

Your attention on Steve broke with an elbow to your side. Looking over, you found Janice grinning wickedly at you, “What were you thinking about, huh?”

“Probably last night,” teased Robin. “I took the boys to a movie so she and Steve were all alone. Replaying the highlight reel of naked time in your mind?”

“Eww! Can we not?” Mike asked.

“Oh please.” Robin rolled her eyes. “Maybe I had to censor myself when you were thirteen but you’re twenty-six now. I think you can handle knowing how babies are made.”

“Babies? I didn’t know we were talking about babies.” El’s face lit up. “Are you going to have a baby? Oh, I miss babies. Jeremiah was such a cute little baby.”

“No one is talking about babies,” you replied, noticing how stiff Judith’s posture had suddenly gotten. She was only sitting a couple rows in front of you and there was no doubt she was listening to every word being spoken, stocking up ammunition for later. You did not need that woman to have one more reason to come at you. “Jeez. You guys are being ridiculous.”

“Not yet anyway,” teased Nancy, turning around. “But I heard the ‘l’ word has been spoken so you never know…”

“Oh my god!” Max shrieked, spinning completely around in her seat, Judith doing the same, her eyes shooting daggers at you. You braced yourself but Judith quickly spun back around as Max continued gushing. “Are you serious? You’re using the love word? I knew you were in love. You got all red faced at the coffee shop that night when the word was even mentioned.”

“When’s the wedding?” Lucas wiggled his eyebrows. “Because I look like a million bucks in a tux and the way Dustin is going, I might never get to be in another wedding if you two don’t tie the knot.”

“Hey! I will have you know that Heather and I are going on our third date tomorrow night,” Dustin stated, folding his arms.

“Ohhh…” Will crooned. “You convinced her to go out with you a third time? What’d you bribe her with? Oh, or is it blackmail? You got something juicy on her that she doesn’t want revealed?”

Dustin chucked a piece of popcorn at him and Will caught it in his mouth, grinning triumphantly as he chewed. Dustin shook his head in disgust.

“I don’t think Dustin needs bribery or blackmail. Heather has been talking about him nonstop at the office,” you told them, sending a wink Dustin’s way. “She really likes you. She said she had a blast at the Science Museum with you last week.”

“Oh yeah? I had a lot of fun too. What else has she said about me?”

“Hmm. Let me think,” you taunted, tapping your finger against your chin, relieved to be talking about someone that wasn’t you with Judith sitting and listening like a hawk. “That you’re adorable and funny. She thinks you have the best smile. She told me you’re one of the nicest guys she’s ever met and that you’re super smart. She says your big brain is one of the sexiest things about you.”

Mike, Lucas, and Will began gagging on cue, perfectly synced as if they’d rehearsed it first. Dustin glared at them all but you could see how pleased he was at the information you'd just relayed to him. And it was all true. You'd been teasing Heather all week about what a smitten little kitten she was. They were awfully cute together.

“And speaking of new romance,” you sang, bopping your elbow into Robin’s side. “How goes it with the lovely June?”

Robin’s face flushed a brilliant shade of scarlett. She grabbed onto a piece of her hair, toying with it, a coy smile lifting the corners of her mouth. Clearly Heather wasn’t the only smitten kitten around here.

“June?” came Judith’s voice loudly. “That’s a very strange name for a man.”

“Well, that would be because June is, in fact, a woman,” Dustin stated.

Judith made a sound like a throttled gasp, her eyes going wide, “A woman? So…you’re…one of those…?”

“One of what exactly?” challenged Max, leaning forward, elbows on her knees. “A human? A woman? An American? An Earthling? What exactlt are you asking, Judith?”

Your hands clenched at your sides, bracing yourself for an ugly scene. A scene that could destroy this beautiful thing that had been building around you. Why would any of them want you to be a part of their lives when that would mean this awful woman would be a part of it too? Judith’s mouth went tight at Max’s confrontation and you braced yourself, waiting for the nasty thing that was about to come out of her mouth.

But Judith simply stated, “Never mind. It’s none of my concern,” and turned back around. Huh. She must have realized she was outnumbered and didn’t like her odds.

“So anyway, back to the matter at hand,” Max said loudly, turning to Robin.

“Yes, we’re all dying to know,” Karen exclaimed, leaning into Robin. “Are there sparks?”

“I wouldn’t say sparks…” Robin began and when they all looked crestfallen, she grinned. “More like massive explosions that could level an entire city.” She giggled. “She’s amazing. I mean, we went to the movies and it was fun, but you can’t really talk much at the movies.”

Nolan snorted, “You? You talk through movies all the time.”

“With you guys,” she huffed. “But she doesn't even know me yet. Not really. I didn’t want to give her the full dose of how neurotic I am right out of the gate. I have to give her small doses until she’s just acclimated to it and doesn’t realize the extent of my craziness. Anyway, I thought that would be the end of it. You know? I told you guys it went well but I didn’t really expect anything to come of it. Then she called and asked if I wanted to go to dinner. So we went out Tuesday night again and we were sitting in the restaurant for six hours! Six hours! Can you believe it?”

“What in the hell do you do in a restaurant for six hours?” Hopper huffed. “I mean, after you eat what else is there?” Joyce swatted him and he looked over at her, bewildered. “What?”

“Just because you have no conversational skills doesn’t mean others don’t. They were obviously talking.”

“I have conversational skills. I am very eloquent with my words, thank you very much.” He grinned when you all laughed because nothing about this bear of a man screamed eloquent. “But six hours? What could you possibly have to talk about for six hours?”

“Everything,” Robin sighed dreamily. “She was asking me all kinds of questions and she didn’t even seem to mind when I rambled. She said she thought it was cute! Can you believe it? And I learned so much about her. She loves cats. She has two of them, Hoggle and Ludo.”

“What kinds of names are those?” Judith piped up and you fought the urge to throw one of your M&Ms at the back of her head. Hadn’t the woman said enough already? Why couldn’t she just shut up?

“She’s a Labyrinth fan!” you squealed, choosing to ignore your mother-in-law completely instead. “Great taste in movies.”

“Yes! And music…she loves Blondie, Bowie, the Beatles…”

“All solid choices,” Joyce replied.

“I don’t know,” Hopper mused. “I didn’t hear any Zeppelin or Stones mentioned.”

“You’re showing your age, Hop,” Will teased.

“The game is starting,” Judith interrupted loudly. “So maybe the inappropriate talk about love lives could finish now.”

“Damn, she’s really not any fun is she?” Robin hissed in your ear.

“You have no idea,” you mumbled back with a groan. You had to keep reminding yourself that Judith was Eli’s grandmother. No matter how frustrating she was, you were going to have to deal with her but only as much as absolutely necessary. Hopefully she would just head home after the game and save you all from her unwanted presence any longer.

The game went far better than you had expected for it being the boys’ first time. Eli actually managed to hit the ball and made it all the way to third before the other team’s player managed to throw it in. Matt may have cheered the loudest, jumping out of his seat, proud of the kid he’d spent so much time in the batting cages with.

Matt’s cheering had not come as a surprise but the way the rest of them all cheered for your son did. It wasn’t just a casual, yay Eli, an obligatory cheer because their friend was dating the kid’s mom. They seemed genuinely excited, celebrating his moments of glory just as loudly and proudly as they did Jeremiah’s. When Jeremiah ran into home, breaking the tie and winning the game, you leapt from your seat, you and Nancy high fiving and hugging, two moms sharing your pride in your boys.

Both boys came racing off the field, their cheeks bright red, flushed from both the excitement and the exertion. They were swept up in a flurry of hugs and high fives from the crowd of people who had shown up just for them.

“You boys were amazing!” Hopper yelled, pulling both boys in for a bear hug. Yeah, you could definitely see where Dustin got Smokey the Bear from this guy.

“Did you see me slide right into home, grandpa? I saw that kid grab it but I just knew I had time! Daddy says to take chances!” Jeremiah beamed, the smile on his face so wide it looked painful.

“I saw it, kid. You did real good. You took the chance and it paid off. You’re going to be the next Barry Bonds, just watch. And you!” He turned his attention to Eli, his massive hand ruffling her son’s hair. “That was a hell of a hit, kid. Making it all the way to third before they could get it. You gave them a run for their money. They were scrambling after that ball.”

Eli looked so proud that your heart could burst. Judith stepped forward. She’d been keeping to the outside of the group, clearly uncomfortable, uncertain how to make herself known. You had no doubt it was killing her to see Eli receiving so much positive attention from so many people that were not her. To see that he had other people in his life that were important to him, to not be the first person that had congratulated him on his game.

Just as she stepped forward and Eli spotted her, running into her arms for a hug, Steve was making his way over from the diamond, a large bag slung over his shoulder. When his eyes found yours, he gave you one of those smiles that came with a side of a very flirty wink that he seemed to reserve just for you.

“Good game, huh?” he commented, a quick kiss planted on your lips. “The boys did a great job.”

“That’s because they have a great coach,” you replied, your arms slipping around his stomach, smiling up at this man who always had you in a state of complete awe.

“Everybody still up for burgers and shakes at Benny’s?” Hopper boomed out over the cacophony of noise.

You glanced over to Judith who was purposefully keeping her eyes off of you and Steve. You really didn’t want to invite her but it would be the right thing to do. She’d driven all this way for the game.

“Judith, would you like to join us?” you asked, keeping your arms firmly locked around Steve because who cared what Judith thought. You had made it clear to her that this new future with Steve did not erase your past with Justin. The woman was just going to have to get used to it.

“Oh. I…no, I don’t think so.” She shook her head. “Henry is supposed to be getting back this evening and he’ll need dinner.” She looked around to the others, feeling the need to explain, “Work trip.”

Yeah. Henry had an awful lot of work trips. Justin had confided in you that he wasn’t so sure they were all for work but he could never prove it. And Judith chose to go through life blissfully unaware. As far as you knew, you'd never confronted him or questioned him. But the two of them had never exactly been the warm and fuzzy couple. There weren’t those moments of tender touches or warm glances ever. Their relationship seemed more like a business transaction, something that was mutually beneficial to them both.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah grandma. Benny’s has the best shakes!”

Jeremiah nodded his agreement. “Eli and I both love strawberry! And Benny always brings me ranch to dip my fries in.”

“Oh, that’s nice.” Judith smiled down at the boy, seeming surprised that he was taking the time to talk to her. She jumped when Joyce came up next to her, placing an arm around her shoulders.

“Come on Judes.” You brought your hand to your mouth to cover the snort that had slipped out at Joyce’s choice of nickname. Robin clearly found it just as amusing as she shoved her face into El’s shoulder, her body shaking with laughter. “It’ll be fun. And if these two crazy kids are going to be doing the family thing, then that means we all need to do the family thing, right?”

“Yeah, Judes,” Max agreed, grinning as if this were the best moment of her life. “We’re all one big happy family now. We all love Eli and he loves us. Right, kid?”

Eli leapt from the ground as he proudly exclaimed, “Yeah!” He turned to Judith. “Dustin and Mike and Will and Lucas all play this really cool game called Dungeons and Dragons and they’re teaching me all about it. And Robin took us to see this movie, First Kid. It’s about this kid who is the president’s son and he has a bodyguard. It’s so funny and she got us popcorn and Skittles because she says Skittles are the superior candy. And Max is teaching me how to skateboard! I fell off a couple times but I’m starting to get the hang of it. She says I’ll be a pro by the end of summer. And El came over and helped us make slime when we spent the night with Nancy and Jonathan. They let us stay up until midnight and we got to do s’mores over the fire in their backyard. It was so cool. And Hopper let us ride in his police car! He even turned on the lights and the siren for us and he brought us one of those pads to do fingerprints! And Joyce makes the best spaghetti. We went to her house for dinner and Will is an artist and he showed us all these cool things he drew when he was just our age!”

Judith looked a bit taken aback as Eli kept rambling, caught off guard at how large a part of his life each of these people were now. You almost felt sorry for her, the sadness in her eyes, knowing how she wished she was closer so she could be a bigger part of Eli’s life. Almost but not quite because the woman was her own worst enemy.

“I don’t know. Henry…”

“Is a grown man who can fend for himself,” you reminded her. “He’s fifty-six Judith. The man should know how to at least make a sandwich.”

Judith’s hands wrung together, an internal battle playing over her face. Damn. Was she really that programmed by that man or was her uncertainty coming from all the new people, the fact that she would be the one outside looking in instead of at the center of it all?

“Come on. It will be fun,” Karen urged. “My husband, Tedd, isn't here either. We’ll be two crazy ladies without their husbands. I mean, who needs them anyway, right?”

Judith laughed, her hand flying to her mouth, eyes going wide as if she couldn’t believe she’d just done that. You pressed your lips together in amusement. So there was a woman desperate for fun in there just waiting to break free. You could see it in the sparkle of those ocean blue eyes, so much like her son’s.

“Are you sure you want me to come?” she asked, the question directed at you.

You smiled, stepping forward, placing your arm around Judith’s shoulders, “Of course I do.”

Maybe this could work out after all. Maybe Judith wasn’t as awful as she seemed. Perhaps all that bluster and rudeness came from a place of deep fear. Fear not that her son would be forgotten, but that she would. Fear that you would move on and in turn, so would Eli, and she would be left with nothing after losing her only child besides a husband that was more boring than watching paint dry. Perhaps all of this had simply been because no one but Justin had ever really thought she mattered.

Judith’s mouth lifted at the corners, her entire demeanor changing with that subtle smile. It made her appear far more approachable and soft. She nodded.

“Okay. I haven’t had a milkshake in years. Do they have malts? Oh, malts were my favorite.”

“Mine too!” Hopper bellowed. “And you won’t find a better malt than Benny’s. Come on. You can ride with us old folks.” He pulled his keys from his pocket.

“Oh! That's quite alright. I don’t want to inconvenience you. Then you would have to bring me back here. I have my own car if you just want to tell me how to get there.”

“Nonsense!” Joyce looped her arm in Judith’s, tossing you a wink. “You are not an inconvenience. Us grandmas have to stick together. Come on. We’ll let the young ones be. We’ll have plenty of time to tell you all sorts of juicy stories about Steve this way.”

Steve groaned, his head rolling around his shoulders, “Or not!”

“You’ll love this one, Judith,” Karen laughed, taking her other arm as they led her toward the parking lot. “One time I found Steve climbing up the trellis of our house to sneak and see Nancy…”

“Great,” muttered Steve as their words faded, shaking his head. “Your mother-in-law is never going to like me once those three fill her head with every screw up I’ve ever made.”

“It doesn’t matter if she likes you,” you reminded him, rising up to your tiptoes to press your lips to his. “Because I do.”

“Besides, she’ll figure out for herself what a dingus you are before too long,” Robin snorted, yelping when Steve shoved her backward.

“So, how do you think this is going to go?” asked Janice who had always chosen to keep her distance. After one meeting with Judith, Janice preferred to not deal with her at all if she could, always saying she was going to open her mouth and piss the woman off if she said one more negative thing about you in front of her.

“With Judith…who knows…”

___________________________________________________________

But it went far better than Steve could have possibly imagined. He’d pictured Judith sitting there stiffly, staring them all down as she judged every single word they said. Or possibly offending every single person at the table with her words at some point. Or announcing to the entire table why Steve shouldn’t be with you. However, none of that happened.

Sitting between Karen and Joyce, the woman had loosened. As if the two others had slowly unraveled the strings that had been knotting her up for years and she could finally breathe. She smiled. She even laughed. And even though he’d only known her a very short time, it had even shocked him to see. He hadn’t been sure the woman was capable of frivolity of any kind. Forget actually enjoying anything.

And the best part of it was that you seemed to finally be relaxed. You sat at the other end of the table, Steve on one side of you and Janice on the other, keeping your distance from Judith. But every now and then you would look down at the woman and smile. Your two worlds were coming together and it wasn’t the horrendous clash you’d expected. They were actually appearing to meld quite seamlessly.

By the time dinner was over, everyone was heading out full and in good spirits. Judith had even smiled politely when Robin asked if Steve and you would want to double date with her and June soon. She swallowed down any bullshit bias she had. If she was going to be ignorant, at least she was following the golden rule and keeping her damn mouth shut if she had nothing nice to say.

After saying your goodbyes, Steve drove you and the boys back to his house. You fed Miles while Steve headed out back to get a fire going. The boys raced upstairs to play on the Nintendo 64 for a while. You stepped onto the back deck, sliding the door shut after Miles raced out behind her, instantly doing zoomies throughout the yard.

God, you were pretty. Even weeks after meeting, he still found himself in awe of you. Jeans that wrapped around each and every curve in a way that had his hands twitching at his sides, wanting to follow those familiar hills and valleys. You hated shoes and socks, lost them as soon as you could, something he’d learned about you over the past weeks, so bare pink toes peeked out from beneath the flared denim. The Bowie shirt you wore was cropped, a sliver of your soft stomach exposed. Your hair was up in a high ponytail, only accentuating your neck which was just calling to his mouth.

You tilted your head, those perfectly pink cotton candy lips pursing in a way that had him thinking so many thoughts that were not anywhere near the ballpark of holy. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen and he fought the urge to pinch himself, to prove these last weeks weren’t some fever dream that he was going to wake from.

“See something you like?” Your tone was light, playful, as he slowly made his way up onto the deck until he stood right in front of you.

“I most certainly do.” Fingers gripped your hips, tugging you into him until you could feel just how much he liked what he was seeing. “You have no idea the effect you have on me.”

“Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea right now,” you chuckled, hands tracing over his chest and shoulders to loop around his neck. “But sadly for you, there are children afoot so there is not much I can do about that at the moment.”

“You simply existing does it for me. You don’t have to do anything but appear, honey. That’s it. You laugh. You smile. You cross your legs. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. You take a sip of coffee. It all does it for me.”

“Yeah? Well, same for me. I swear I dreamed you into existence, Steve Harrington. I didn’t believe guys like you existed. I thought they were meant for storybooks and movies.”

Heat rushed over his cheeks at your compliment. “I’m no fairytale prince, honey but I promise to try to give you a happily ever after.”

Your teeth pulled at your bottom lip, your eyes widening just slightly at his words and he was doubting himself all over again. Should he not have said that? Was that pushy? But hadn’t you said forever? Hadn’t you said it just a couple weeks ago? That if you both were all in then you had to be planning on forever?

“Happily ever after? That sounds nice,” you murmured, pulling him in until your lips met, all his doubt vanishing like vapor on the air with your words.

His arms wound around you, lifting you up onto your toes, crushing your bodies together. You moaned softly, the sound swallowed by his lips, and his jeans felt painfully tight. You tasted just as sweet as you looked, chocolate milkshake met with cherry lip balm, a combination that had his head spinning.

Everything else ceased to exist for him when your lips were on his. Your tongue parted his lips, slipping along his own, and he couldn’t have told you what color the sky was or what month of the year it was. There was only you and him, locked in this moment that he wanted to make last until eternity. If this was how he would spend the rest of his days on this Earth, he could be okay with that.

But you did manage to think, pulling back, your lips now slick, curved into the prettiest smile, your eyes heavy with the desire that was racing under his skin. He wanted you. He always wanted you and with the boys, he never had you nearly enough. But the boys were right upstairs and he knew you couldn’t risk it. Those kids could be down and out the door before they even heard a sound.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” he asked, your questioning barreling through his brain fog. “You don’t have to thank me. I’ll kiss you anytime you want.”

“No,” you chuckled, swatting at him. “Thank you for today, for dealing with Judith. I know she’s…difficult. But I don’t know. She seemed a little different today. I have hope. It's a very small hope but hope that maybe she’s coming around. But I know she wasn’t very nice to you and the fact that you are willing to put up with her…I’m just really grateful because you don’t have to, you know.”

“Of course I do.” Steve slid his hand down your arm, locking your fingers together. He led you to the lounger, sitting and pulling you down in his lap. His nose traced your jaw, nuzzled into your hair. “She’s a part of your life and she’s a part of Eli’s life. If I want to be a part of your life then that means she’s part of mine too.”

“That’s…very kind of you.”

“No. It’s not.” He took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning your face to his. “Look. When I said I was all in, I meant it. I don’t get to be all in and then pick and choose what I am willing to handle. Anything that comes your way comes my way now too. Anything that’s heavy for you, you got me to help you carry it. Anything that’s hurting you, I will step in front of. That’s the deal. It’s not just you anymore. It’s us. We’re a team.”

“Okay coach,” you beamed, teasing but your eyes betrayed your lighthearted tone, shimmering with emotion at his words.

Wasn’t that what a relationship was supposed to be? Two people against the world? He loved this woman. He wanted to be in your life. He wanted to crawl inside your skin and live there the way you did in his. You had managed to slither your way inside. You were in the blood that ran through his veins, in every single beat of his heart, in the very cells that made up his skin.

Yeah. You came with baggage but who didn't? And he was more than willing to help you carry that load because you were more than worth it. You were everything he hadn’t even known he’d been searching for. He’d looked for so long, in all the wrong places, never knowing that the one that would finally fill in all those hollow places inside him already existed in the same town as him.

Maybe it was wrong, maybe it was an awful thing to think, but it felt like fate had brought you together. He was so sorry that your husband had died but maybe this was the course your lives had to take for you to find one another. He’d thought about what if he’d been first. What if he’d stumbled across you when you were out with your friends thirteen years ago? It had made him feel like an absolute piece of shit, but he couldn’t help but wonder what life would be like if he’d been the one.

But then there would be no Jeremiah. There would be no Eli. You wouldn’t have known the love she already had with your husband. He wouldn’t have gotten the thump on his head that he needed for him to see you, truly see you, to understand how lucky he was to have you. Maybe the two of you had to go through all that heartache and disappointment to come to this place, where you could truly appreciate what you had. So you would never take it for granted, never throw it away, or treat it carelessly.

So yeah. Maybe Steve hadn’t been your first but he had every intention of being your last. Your last boyfriend, your last love, your last kiss, your last everything. Because he’d chosen wrong so many times before, yes, but he hadn’t this time. He knew it like he knew his own name, like he knew the sun would rise tomorrow, like he knew the beat of his son's heart. He’d chosen right this time and there was nothing that would make him walk away. He would spend the rest of his life showing you just how much you meant to him. He would never take for granted this amazing gift that had somehow walked right onto his baseball field and into his life.

“So, can I ask…I think you were going to tell me that day at the lake but we got a little sidetracked. What is the deal with you and Judith?”

Your head tipped back, eyes tracking the stars as you inhaled deeply, “I don’t know. There was never a specific moment or an event. It’s not like we had a falling out. She’s just always been like that with me. From the moment Justin introduced me to her, she treated me like I just wasn’t good enough. I was never enough for her precious son, you know?”

Steve snorted, “She’s nuts. Has she met you?”

“You’re sweet but I don’t think there’s anything I could ever do that would be enough for her. She always wanted to be the most important to him and I feel like she saw me as a threat. I mean, it’s insane. Isn’t that how it’s supposed to work? You raise your son to be a good man. You hope they find someone who will see that and love them. They choose their person and that person should come first. I mean, it’s the logical order of things. But she never saw it like that. It was like she always had to find a flaw in me to prove that she was better, that she loved Justin more, that his love for her outshone his love for me.”

“Did he…”

“No.” You cut him off, shaking your head. “No. Absolutely not. He took off as soon as he could. That’s why he joined the Marines, to get away from her. He told me he felt like she was smothering him and he couldn't breathe in that house anymore. He also didn’t have the best relationship with his dad. I think Henry cheats on Judith all the time. I’m pretty sure that’s why he goes on so many ‘business trips…’” You air quoted the words. “I think they’re far more pleasure than business. Justin thought so too. He just had to get away from it.”

“Well, I understand the need to get away from toxic parents. Mine weren’t smothering…quite the opposite actually. They just were indifferent unless I was disappointing them. Did you two even see her very much if their relationship wasn’t the best?”

“Not really.” Your fingers trailed along his hand, running over his knuckles. “Holidays, birthdays…you know, the required stuff. But she would be Judith and Henry, well, when he was actually there, he would pick apart Justin. He thought he was a waste, going into the military instead of going to college. Justin was always in a horrible mood when we left. He would put off seeing them for as long as he could.”

“What about Eli? Did they want to be around when he came along?”

“Oh yeah. Well, Judith did anyway. Saw him as her second chance at getting someone to love her best. But Justin kept her at arm’s length as much as he could. He hated seeing what having her around did to me. She questioned everything I did, judged me, picked me apart. She always made me feel like an awful mother. When Eli was first learning to walk, he fell. You know how they are at that age. Their heads are too big for their bodies and they’re like a weeble wobble. He fell and smashed his forehead into the corner of the wall. He had a huge goose egg and I was panicked that he had a serious brain injury. We took him to the E.R. Judith showed up and immediately started telling me what an incompetent mother I was, questioning what I’d been doing when he fell, why I wasn’t watching him. Justin lost it. He blew up at her right in the middle of the hospital. That was the moment he told her that if she couldn’t respect his wife and the mother of his child, then she was no longer welcome to be a part of our lives. I’ve never seen her so put in her place. She had no idea how to respond. Anyway, we didn’t hear from her for about a month after that. It was a bit better then but things with her and I have always been a bit…precarious.”

“Jesus. She sounds awful. And she’s clearly no fan of mine but that’s alright. I don’t need to impress her. The only person I care about impressing is you.” He wiggled his eyebrows, planting a soft kiss on your lips.

“Oh, I am very impressed Mr. Harrington. Very impressed,” you mused, your arms winding around his neck, nose nuzzling gently over his own.

Steve was overcome with the desire to keep you there, to never let you go. Every night, when he would have to gather his things or watch you gather yours, it left him with a hollow ache. Maybe it was soon but who decided how soon was too soon? Was it too soon when all he could think about when you weren't around was seeing you again? Was it too soon when he laid in bed, inhaling the scent of vanilla and pear that you left behind, craving the warmth of your body curled into his?

“Stay,” he whispered, a plea sent on his breath to your skin, his nose tracing your cheek.

“What?”

“Stay. Stay the night with me.” His fingers wrapped around your biceps, holding you against him, willing you to agree. “I know why you’ve wanted to wait. I understand your reasons but your reasons aren’t really reasons anymore.”

“Steve…”

He was losing you. You were going to rationalize your way out of this and he couldn’t let you. He was overcome with an irrational need to get you to stay, to sleep curled up in his arms, to cement the decision that you were real, that this was it. That he was enough for you. That you wanted this as much as he did. He was pushing and he knew it but he couldn’t stop himself. He needed to know. He was in so deep here. He needed to know that you were in it too, barely keeping your head above water, sinking into the depths with him.

“No. Look, the whole reason you wanted to wait was because you didn’t want Eli getting his hopes up just for this to all end. You didn’t want him to see this as serious with him already assuming things. But this is serious and this isn’t ending. Right?”

“I mean, I don’t plan on it but…”

“No. No buts,” he insisted, hands sliding down your arms to wrap around your hands, holding them against him. Bowing his head, he brought your knuckles to his lips, brushing a kiss over them. “This isn’t ending. I’m not going anywhere. Do you plan on going anywhere?”

“Well no…”

“So then why not?”

“I don’t know. I mean, do you really think it’s appropriate for us to share a bed with the boys in the house?”

“Did you share a bed with your husband when Eli was home?”

“That’s different and you know it.”

“Why? Because we’re not married? Marriage is a piece of paper, honey. It’s a piece of paper that doesn’t mean anything because it can be torn in half and discarded so easily. I love you. You love me. The boys want this to happen. I’m not saying let’s get down and dirty.” He grinned devilishly, his cheek running over yours. “Not that I don’t want to. But would it really be inappropriate to sleep in the same bed? When we move in together, we’ll be sharing a bed, right?”

You pulled back, a look of sheer anxiety across your face, “When we…when we move in together?”

“I mean, eventually, right? That would be the logical next step. It’s silly to keep two houses when we spend most of our time together. I mean, whenever we’re apart all I can think about is the next time I get to have you in my arms. I know it may seem soon but really, we’re the only ones who get to decide what soon is. And the way I feel about you, I know it got intense pretty fast but…”

His word died in his throat as he felt the shift in you. Your chest rose and fell rapidly against his, your heart beating a rapid tempo against his skin. Releasing your hands, he grabbed your face, attempting to get your eyes to focus on him. But they were glazed, wide, staring off into nothing as you descended into a full blown attack, an attack he’d caused.

“Hey, hey…you’re okay, baby. Look at me. Come on. Just breathe with me, honey,” he urged.

You were gasping, small little squeaking sounds emitting as you struggled to take in air. Jesus Christ. What had he done? Exactly what he’d sworn he wouldn’t do. He’d pushed you, ran up behind you and shoved you off the ledge before you were ready. And now you w were free falling as he ran underneath you, trying to catch you but failing.

“Shit! Baby, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You don’t have to spend the night. We’re not moving in together. It’s okay. I’m moving too fast. I do it all the time and I’m sorry. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. Just breathe for me, please.”

But you wouldn’t. You couldn’t. He grabbed onto your hands again. They were ice cold. Your skin was damp, clammy, a sheen of sweat coating your forehead and upper lip. And then you were shaking, trembling and he grasped your arms, pulling your body against his but it wouldn’t stop as you wheezed.

This had gone on for too long. It wasn’t stopping. You weren't coming back down. Your breathing was only getting worse if that was even possible. He had to do something.

“Boys!” he screamed as he cradled your quivering body against him. “Call 911!”

Chapter 17

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Thanks so much for taking the time to read my little story! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist. If you want to be added please make sure your age is stated on your page somewhere. 😊 And replies and reblogs are always appreciated if you enjoy it. I love to hear what you think! ❤️❤️❤️

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suffarustuffaru · 4 months

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Hello!

A bit of a weird ask, so sorry in advance.

What methods/sites would you recommend using for reading Arcs 5-8 of Re:Zero?

I’ve almost finished season 2 of the anime, and I’m pretty sure this has become one of my new favourite anime/works of media in general.

And considering I keep spoiling myself anyway when I look at Re: Zero tumblr blogs, I figured I should just find a way to catch up with the rest of the series.

You seem smart, and have clearly read Arcs 5-8, so I was hoping that you would be able to provide some advice.

Thanks!

hi there!! :D no worries for the ask, its cool to have another rezero fan join in the fandom especially on tumblr (which is a very small, curated circle of a bunch of us trading posts around a campfire HAH) and i hope youve really been enjoying the anime and your stay here so far!! :o this is absolutely one of my favorite media as well (if. if you couldnt tell by the blog pfft) and thanks for the compliments haah i am glad to seem smart.

but yes i gotchu on where to read!! ill be giving you a pretty detailed explanation/guide. (this explanation also goes mainly for english speakers / people who wanna experience rezero in english.) (and of course if any other seasoned fans are seeing this feel free to add on if i miss anything or correct me if needed)

Main Route Stuff:

witchculttranslations is where you can find the translations for the entire main route (which is arcs 1-8). this page is where youll find the main table of contents for each arc and you can find arcs 5-8 there!

note that arc 8, at the time of me writing this ask, is still a work-in-progress and the team of translators in this fandom are always hard at work to translate each chapter. also note that arcs 7-8 are "conjoined arcs" - think of it like arc 7 is part 1 and arc 8 is part 2. so if you happen to get caught up to where rezero is currently at, the rezero subreddit regularly updates chat + update threads whenever new rezero novel content comes out in general. youll find updates on translations or summaries for new chapters there.

there's also distinction between web novel and light novel - web novel are the chapters that tappei releases online, light novel are the official finished versions of the chapters that are released for sale. sometimes there's changes between the web novel and the light novel, but for the most part it's either minor changes to improve on the web novel - sometimes it's major, but for arcs 5-8 iirc there isnt any major changes that you need to worry about.

just note that in the wn translations, all/almost all dialogue is written in script-style. let me show a small excerpt from arc 5 chapter 1:

???: “Good job, Subaru, I suppose.” A small silhouette enters Subaru’s view from above. A loveable girl with long, cream hair and an extravagant outfit—Beatrice. Her fluttering dress looks out of place in the meadow as she presents Subaru with a towel. He accepts it and vigorously towels his head dry. Subaru: “Ah, thanks. Was looking to cool down so this’s perfect.”

so yeah the wn will be formatted like this by the way, just in case you didnt know this yet!! i hope thats not much of a turnoff or anything, but dont worry you get used to it - and the story is still pretty great anyway!!

also dont bother with arcs 1-3 wn. its not so important (and you already know all the major info because youve seen the anime) and also arcs 1-3 wn doesnt have the Best writing. tappei himself had to make extremely major changes for the light novel and the light novel (along with the anime and manga) is the finished and polished result.

and of course the light novel comes with illustrations for each arc. the web novel sometimes includes images as well at the beginning of each chapter, but if youd like to see finished and official illustrations for various scenes throughout arc 5-8 its easy to find them if you search them up online!!

the anime also has a few bits of Important cut content from arcs 3-4 - unfortunately i dont have any resources on hand for this ;-;;; but you can look this up on rezero reddit or online in general since a lot of people have made summaries about this. from what i remember in arc 3 (which is the royal selection/white whale/petelgeuse half of season 1!), the main thing is just the reveal that al has some sort of connection to ram (and rem by extension), some sort of connection to satella possibly, and he is ALSO someone that was isekaied into rezero's fantasy world.

as for arc 4 (which is season 2 of course), the anime got down almost all of the general important info you need to know, but there's a lot of important information in the last parts of arc 4 that the anime didnt include. the anime may include this information (and the al stuff from arc 3) later, but you'll need to know it for arcs 5-8. you can find the witchcultranslations guide for arc 4 here - scroll down and youll find the chapter called Appendix: Advent!! you'll need the info in that chapter for later.

if you want, you can also read the chapters after that - theyre sorted under One Day II and are the official arc 4 interludes that take place before arc 5. i do recommend reading through them, but theyre mainly characterization stuff, character dynamics post-arc 4, everyone trying to recover after arc 4, etc etc. the most important info in there is leadup for arc 5 (all the post-arc 4 aftermath stuff) and also some info/introduction on clind and annerose (who are characters that are briefly shown in the anime for like two seconds). these two do play minor roles in arc 4/beginning of 5, but theyre hinted to be important for later. if youre in a hurry to get to arc 5, totally fine to just skim through it, get basic info on clind and annerose then continue into arc 5 or something. or you can look at their wiki pages - totally cool to enjoy rezero however you wish. it's a LOT of reading dont get me wrong HAH.

as for the manga - this is not required reading or anything, the manga has only done arcs 1-4 atm so it's not really super relevant to you since youre almost done with arc 4 already via the anime!! but of course if you havent done so youre welcome to check it out if youd like, the manga artists are pretty great imo. im just gonna show some art from the manga artists here:

isnt it pretty? :O very nice stuff.

anyway thats it for main route content!! now i gotta explain side content.

Side Content:

you can find witchculttranslations' side story table of contents here, which very neatly shows you Every Single Side Story and is updated regularly every time tappei comes out with new side content. and trust me, tappei makes A Lot of side content. i guarantee you a lot of rezero fans havent read every side story (and i still have a lot of side stories to catch up on myself), so theres absolutely no need to read every single side story!! honestly just read the ones you find interesting + the ones that are required reading! im not sure how much of the side content youve heard about, but ill give you a rundown:

this extremely helpful google spreadsheet here (thats also regularly updated) tells you how important each side story is and where you can find it so you dont have to go on a wild goose chase wondering which ones you need to read for the main story. rezero side stories are on a sliding scale of just silly stuff tappei wrote for fun to this is VERY crucial for the main story. that google spreadsheet should help you out with that - both the spreadsheet and witchculttranslations have links to almost every side story available.

(the spreadsheet also tells you important details and who it's centered around + when each side story is safe to read free of spoilers after a certain point - so it's easy to decide when you wanna read the side stories and WHICH side stories you'd like to read!)

also i guarantee you that if you have a favorite character in rezero that character Probably has a ton of side content theyre featured in - so i recommend just hunting down all their side content and devouring it whole because im sure youll have a fun time with that. a lot of side content also fleshes out a ton of side characters as well in general - people who Looked shallow in the anime ARENT shallow at all, i promise. many people have hidden depths, which is one of the fun parts of rezero!

witchculttranslations and the google spreadsheet also tell you what order you might wanna read in terms of when each one takes place. i recommend following that order for the most part if youd like, but if you wanna binge read side content or something later you can also do that after reading arc 6.

that's how i experienced the side stories myself (i started reading them after finishing up with the arcs 5-6 plot) and in a way, i would say that might just be the easiest way to do it given a lot of the side stories take place during arcs 1-6 or before the events of arcs 1-6. itll make you go "ohhh thats what was happening with these background characters during *insert event here that was focused on in the main story*" or "ohhh thats why These Guys are like this" a lot pfft. so its easier to just get out the most important ones / the ones thatre most interesting to you all in a row after finishing up with arc 6 👍

The Ex Novels:

these are THE MOST IMPORTANT side stories. :o theyll be extremely important for arcs 7-8 especially!! also because these are light novels the dialogue is written in normal narrative format so hooray for that!!

anyway theres five ex novels. i recommend reading these after arc 6 so you got them fresh on the brain for arcs 7-8.

however if you happen to be a crusch camp fan, you can read ex novels 1-3 at any time youd like!! these flesh out characters like crusch, felix, wilhelm, and theresia (some of the wilhelm and theresia content was shown a bit in season 1 of the anime!) so youd probably enjoy these even more if youre a fan of any of them. ex novel four also features felix, julius, and reinhard too, if that interests you! (as a knight fan ex novel 4 was my favorite akdndn and i loved ex 1!!). but yeah in general though read the ex novels in order (from 1 to 5 of course) so you dont spoil yourself for other ex novels, but as i said - you can read 1-3 at any time, and in general its best to read the rest of the ex novels after arc 6.

the ex novels in general mainly focus on important historical events in the rezero world and stuff that happens before arc 1. the ex novels are also our first introduction to the nation and empire of vollachia—this is also the country that priscilla is from (and al also came from there)!! you get introduced to vollachia's whole deal in these novels. youll need this info for later!

anyway witchculttranslations and the google sheet dont have links to them because theyre published + officially translated light novels that are easiest to access by buying them, so harder to get a free pdf of them. however i got you (and your wallet) covered because i got pdfs for all of them right here (if these links dont work let me know!):

ex novel 1 - crusch and felix-centric

ex novel 2 - wilhelm and theresia-centric

ex novel 3 - wilhelm and theresia-centric

ex novel 4 - felix, julius, and reinhard-centric

ex novel 5 - priscilla and al-centric

anyway thats the ex novels in a nutshell!! and of course if you want a physical copy of these books (or any of the rezero light novels in general) in english you can buy these online (sites like amazon has them) or at a bookstore. if you live in the US like i do, barnes and noble has them irl as well. or if you happen to live near a kinokuniya store, they also sell rezero irl. kinokuniya is also specifically for japanese media so i highly recommend giving it a try if you happen to be near one (i got a rezero keychain from there also hah, rezero merch is a little hard to get a hold of sometimes).

rezero light novels are also translated in a few other languages (iirc spanish and polish are some of the other languages its translated in) so if youd like that too you can look into it and buy some!!

The If Routes:

if youre not familiar with these by now, theyre basically "what if"/ alternate universe stories where subaru makes a different and Very Major choice at different points of the main route. theyre not necessarily required reading, but some do have some important lore regarding several of the characters and in general most of them are extremely important AUs for rezero that emphasize all the themes of the story. they also show the Insane butterfly effect of subaru’s decisions.

and if youve gotten this far with the anime already im gonna assume you probably like subaru at least a little bit? :o yeah his character gets fleshed out in Very Interesting ways in these routes. other characters also get changed in various ways due to his decisions!

new ifs are also released typically every year on subaru's birthday - april 1. so with every april 1 the entire fandom plays russian roulette because either the if will be a super silly one or a Very Important one LMAO.

also these ifs tend to be mentioned a lot in fandom bc theyre very beloved and interesting side stories, so i highly recommend choosing which ones you find interesting and just have fun reading them!! you can find them on the spreadsheet, if you want to read them in a more chronological order, or you can find them on the main witchculttranslations website as tabs on the side underneath Re:Zero If Stories. (but ill provide the links to each separate one in this post also.)

all current if routes at the moment take place somewhere in the arcs 1-6 range, so you can look at them either after arc 6, like i said, or in order as you read along with the main route. ill give a quick breakdown of each if just in case!!

Pride If - diverges from arc 1; subaru doesnt call for help when fighting the three thugs in the alleyway. slight spoilers for one part of arc 5 in like One Scene of pride if.

Wrath If - diverges from arc 2; subaru accepts beatrice’s offer to help in the loop where rem dies + subaru tries to run away from the mansion. very minor spoilers for ex novels/arc 7-8 (characters who appear in those arcs appear in wrath if).

Sloth If - diverges from arc 3; subaru gives up and runs away with rem instead of dealing with the arc 3 conflict. very minor spoilers (a character who later appears in arc 8 appears here).

Aganau If - diverges from arc 3; in the loop where rem dies in the cave and subaru carries her back to the mansion, he decides to go down another route away from the mansion instead. years later, he’s now older and still alive after almost everyone else has died. this if is one of the routes in the now discontinued lost in memories mobile game (and this is The Most Important route out of the whole bunch anyway). you can find a playthrough + english translation of it here.

Greed If - diverges from arc 4; subaru accepts echidna’s contract. major spoilers for arc 4 of course. minor spoilers for arc 5+ (small plot beats are mentioned iirc). a bit of important lore for characters like echidna and clind. the first edition of it can be found here - make sure to read this first. this is because this if was also given a longer and polished light novel version of it (it was a special that came with some of the season 2 blueray dvd packages?) and you can find an english translation for the extended + final version under the Blueray Novels and Databooks section of witchculttranslations' side content page.

Gluttony If - diverges from arc 6. major spoilers for arcs 5-6.

Mimigau If - this is just a genderbend au that tappei made that starts from arc 1!! almost nothing is changed besides the characters’ genders, biological sex, names, etc. i sadly dont have a link to this one, but iirc this hasnt been fully translated yet? and it's also very much not that important of an if lore-wise so you're not missing out on much. the genderbent character names are really fun though!

Lust If - this is, supposedly, an if that tappei wrote in one sitting and then decided to delete off of the official rezero wn site. this if is just an april fools joke where subaru gets a harem of various rezero girls. and imo its not Particularly Good, but it was meant to be a joke and tappei just wrote it for no reason so ig the quality makes sense haah. and also sadly that harem includes petra iirc which. yeah. not what id call great.

Vainglory If / School If - basically a canon high school au for all of rezero! not a necessary read at all but it's super silly and fun. and if you like anastasia and/or priscilla they have a lot of Fun Interactions in this one. im not sure if all of this if is english translated yet, but you can find chapter one here.

Other Various Ifs from Lost In Memories - i dont have the links to all of these, but lost in memories has a lot of other more minor aus as well, aganau if is just the most important + the darkest one. the other ifs are more lighthearted and just extra stuff for funsies. other big examples include a julius if (subaru calls for help in arc 1 and julius is the one who comes to help), a reinhard if of sorts (takes place around arcs 1-2, it's a sillier story where reinhard just keeps appearing out of nowhere to help subaru every time he needs help), and also an otto if (arc 1 divergence; subaru gets involved with otto and the two of them decide to start a mayonnaise business).

A Side Note About Rezero Video Games:

ok i know your ask is mainly about how to READ rezero but i figured i might as well explain this really quick just in case!!

there are a bunch of rezero video games and none of them are really Necessary, so dont worry about it. theyre either like - silly alternate universe stuff or theyre a bit more of the serious au variety (like aganau if, as mentioned earlier. i dont know every single rezero video game out there (and i think theres still new ones in the works at the time of me writing this??) and also almost none of them are english translated so its hard to experience them if you dont understand japanese.

the two most important ones (aka the ones with more story in them) are gonna be prophecy of the throne and lost in memories (which i mentioned earlier!). and again, these games are not necessary content - theyre mostly just side content that you can look at/watch/play through for fun and if you just wanna see more of your faves. you can check them out at any time since they dont have any major arc 5-8 spoilers.

Prophecy of the Throne - this is visual novel + a divergence of arc 3 where a new and sixth royal candidate emerges and it looks like emilia is the fake royal candidate here.... so yeah the plot is just. it's like a game of among us. but it's a fun story with a lot of different character interactions (so if you really like the entire cast of rezero youre in luck!!) and features a tiny bit of lore about some powerful groups in the fantasy world. a few of subarus failed loops in this one are also Particularly Brutal. you can watch gameplay of it on youtube or play through it yourself (i know that the game IS on steam too) since it's fully english translated (and all the jp vas and english vas reprised their roles as well).

Lost In Memories - as mentioned earlier, this is a now discontinued mobile game. iirc it was a gacha game? a sort of fighting game? and also it's narrative driven with a bunch of different routes. you can find the wiki for it here - it summarizes a lot of the main story beats. theres no official english translations for this game, but theres a lot of fan translations that you can find on stuff like youtube if youre ever interested in any part of the game. also it has a really fun opening song and animated sequence. nonoc's rezero music is great <3

A Side Note About Rezero Youtube:

theres a lot of summary videos for both main content chapters and side stories on youtube. im not sure how accurate these videos are, but i know that at the very least they can give you a brief rundown on the main points for certain chapters/side stories if thats something youd like to have!

theres also an entire team of people making a fan-run audiobook for arc 5. ive given some of their episodes a listen, and i can confirm that theyre absolutely great. you can find their readings of chapter 1-47 on spotify, and on their youtube channel theyre up to chapter 62. i think theyve also expressed their interest in branching out into other rezero content as well? :o so if thats also something youre interested in you can check them out there!

In Conclusion

anyway, that should be all you need to know - thats a summary of basically all important rezero content from here on out!! i know this is like. Super detailed. so i hope that this was helpful and didnt scare you away or anything hah. and i hope you have fun reading through rezero :o !! you got a lot of content to choose from thats for sure!!

but yeah ty for the ask, i hope i explained everything clearly enough :o !! and if you need any clarification feel free to ask!!

#rezero #re:zero #ask #save for later #<< bc this is my most detailed post on 'how to read rezero' aljsdlf so i might just put this in my pinned post for this blog later #also even if ur a seasoned fan and u havent heard of the arc 5 fan podcast yet pls give them a listen. they work so hard on it and i love #their performances there <3

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cieloclercs · 10 months

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𝐬𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐞 | chapter three

pairings: charles leclerc x senna!oc part: 3/? warnings: swearing i think? charles is a bit of a dick, they finally meet again so angstttt, seb and kimi the best boyfriends!! word count: 6.8k

SAUDADE. in which childhood rivals turned best friends realise they were always meant to be something more

03. wishful thinking

author’s note: sooo they’re meeting this chapter 🫣 sorry guys it’s gonna be pretty tense from here, the slow burn starts now!! 🥳🥳

read it on wattpad!

previous: chapter 2 next: chapter 4

20 January 2021 Rolex Monte Carlo Sponsor’s Gala Monte Carlo, Monaco

EMERALD GREEN IS becoming more familiar to Noa as the days pass, and she nears making her debut in Formula 1. It’s the colour of her evening gown, the one Raffaella had delivered to her Monte Carlo hotel room earlier that evening inside a sleek Chanel gift bag. She has to admit, if they’re trying to convince her to sign that contract, they’re certainly doing a good job, because this dress is one of the most beautiful she’s ever worn. It feels like a second skin, like ribbons of water flowing through her fingers when she hitches up the skirt a little, walking slowly up the steps to the venue. Camera lenses click and flash all around her. Even if her confidence is shredded by anxiety, dressed like this, Noa feels like a million dollars.

Just like the rest of Monaco, the Salle Belle Epoque is ludicrously expensive, lavish beyond anything she’s seen before. This is the playground of the rich, after all. Its ceilings are high, marble pillars framed with gold stretching far upwards, where they meet the ceiling, like a work of art painted across the sky. It reminds her of Versailles, Noa thinks, the image and embodiment of wealth. It’s intimidating to stand amongst it all, harsh golden lights from chandeliers glaring down upon her. But she keeps her head up high, and clutches at Sebastian’s arm a little tighter. He smiles over reassuringly. He must have done quite a few of these galas in his time. Noa trusts he won’t let her flounder.

The itinerary for the night is planned out to a tee and expected to be followed. First, the press have their fill of pictures outside the venue, something which she is, thankfully, already accustomed to. She’s the showstopper of the night in her emerald dress, and it seems the cameras can’t get enough of her. Noa has to bite back her laughter at Sebastian’s forlorn expression as he’s momentarily pushed to the side. Though he may be a four-time World Champion, he doesn’t exactly try to carry himself with much glamour anymore; much more comfortable with his unruly, one-with-nature kind of look (meaning that Britta almost had to fight him to get him to drag a comb through his hair for the night). “I’ve had my heyday in Monaco.” he tells Noa later, in the car on their way to the venue, “Those years were enough to last me a lifetime.”

Second comes the cocktail reception, in which they await the arrival of all the guests. She has half a mind to call Sebastian out on his earlier statement, as the way he’s going through already his third glass of the night is strikingly similar to his days of partying with Red Bull. Noa holds her tongue though, when they are approached by some of the other guests in attendance. She’ll remind him later, when he’s inevitably struggling to walk in a straight line.

Rolex has branched out further into Formula 1 to mark the beginning of the new season. Looking around, Noa can already spot a lot of familiar faces. There’s Lewis Hamilton, of course, over near the bar talking to the ever-smiling Daniel Ricciardo. As an old family friend, she makes a note to pull the seven-time World Champion aside to catch up before the end of the night – she hasn’t seen him in almost six months, after all. Noa has spotted Seb shooting looks at Kimi Räikkönen from across the room who, like his former teammate, is indulging perhaps a little too much on the complimentary cocktails. Then there’s Max Verstappen, who is standing stoic as ever in a corner with a familiar looking blonde woman. Noa hasn’t seen much of him since her karting days, but she thinks – looking at the slightly uncomfortable expression he wears – he might appreciate seeing a familiar face. She certainly would: well, depending on how familiar, that is.

The one person she really doesn’t want to see appears not to have arrived yet. She isn’t naïve enough to believe he won’t show up; considering he practically rules Monaco, it would be unheard of for him to not be here. Noa can’t see his new teammate, Carlos Sainz, amongst the crowd either, so she assumes the Ferrari representatives simply haven’t arrived yet. She makes a mental note to keep an eye out for the Spanish driver – that way she’ll know roughly when she needs to take herself to the bar to prepare for the undoubtedly awkward few hours ahead.

“Hey, do you mind if I leave you for a bit?” Sebastian turns to ask, eyebrows arched questioningly. Noa smiles, shaking her head. She isn’t blind – her teammate has clearly been dying to go and see Kimi, who is stood, serene as ever, by himself. He tries to play it off, assuring her that he’s more than willing to stay if it makes her feel more comfortable, but once again she shakes her head.

“It’s fine, Seb.” Noa chuckles, “Go see your boyfriend.”

He merely grins at her teasing, leaving her with a wink before making a beeline towards the Finnish driver. She watches with a smirk as they greet each other enthusiastically, a rare smile, which is mostly only reserved for Seb, taking over Kimi’s face. Then she’s at a loose end. She could go and mingle with some of the other guests, put herself out there a little bit, but with the prospect of what is about to come, Noa isn’t sure she has the energy. Maybe she needs a drink to build up her confidence first.

The bar it is, she thinks. Slowly, she begins to make her way through the crowd, stopping to say brief hello’s to those she recognises and to those who greet her first. Their faces only seem to blur together, even though she tries to hold on to them – anything to distract her from her growing anxiety. The bar is almost in sight when Noa is stopped for the final time by a very familiar voice, which brings a surprised, yet grateful smile to her face. She turns to face Max Verstappen, and for a moment all her worries seem to be forgotten about.

“Hi!” she says brightly in response to his equally enthusiastic greeting, wasting no time in wrapping him up into a friendly hug, “Long time no see.”

“Yeah, you don’t say.” Max chuckles dryly. In fact, the last time they saw each other was also the last time Noa stepped foot in the Formula 1 paddock. It feels like an age ago, but at the same time, she knows once she’s back again it’ll feel like she never left.

Hovering to Max’s left is that same familiar-looking blonde woman, smiling hesitantly as Noa pulls away to study her with curiosity. Now, close up, she realises exactly who this is. It takes a moment for the name to click with the face, but as soon as it does, her face lights up into the widest grin of the night.

Max watches this moment pass, deciding now is the time for re-introductions, “Obviously, you already know my –“

“Annie?” Noa cuts him off. His mouth snaps shut with a faint huff, “Annie Beaumont?”

The blonde woman beams ecstatically, “Hi! Oh my God, you remember!” she laughs, hands flying up to cradle her face briefly.

“Of course I do!” Noa cries. In unison, they both surge forwards at the same time, falling into a tight, familiar hug. The Brazilian squeezes her eyes shut briefly, taking in the moment, trying to commit it perfectly to memory. It was strange how she hadn’t even realised how much she missed her paddock best friend until now, when she finally got to hug her again.

“I can’t believe it.” Noa laughs incredulously as they both pull away, “It’s been years!”

Anneliese Beamount had been a near-constant presence at her side around the paddock, when they were both in their pre-teens. Noa would often go to watch Charles’ races, which more and more tended to take place separately from her own as he moved up the age groups, leaving her behind. Annie’s older brother, Luc Beaumont, was a kart racer in the same category, so many of her weekends were spent trailing along after him and their devoted parents. At the same time, Noa was often left at a loose end when Charles raced and she didn’t. So when she bumped into Annie one day at the International Circuit of Zuera in Spain, they immediately hit it off. From then on, at every race they would meet up in the paddock, tormenting Luc, Charles and their other driver friends at every opportunity they got. Noa misses those days now. It was a time where she didn’t have to worry about anything except her next race. A simple time.

“How have you been?” she asks. Annie steps back, glancing up at Max. It clicks in Noa’s head, as the Dutch driver takes her hand in his and gazes back down at her lovingly. She can’t help but let her mouth drop open ever so slightly.

“I’ve been great.” Annie grins, “I am great. We both are. Right, babe?”

Max says something in reply, but she doesn’t hear it. She’s too focussed on the way he leans down to press a kiss to Annie’s cheek, and the way his eyes light up brighter than she’s ever seen them as he looks at her. Slowly, a massive grin spreads across Noa’s face.

“This is so surreal.” She breathes, “I’m so used to you two biting each other’s heads off all the time.” the couple laugh softly, shaking their heads at the remembrance of their former, much more oblivious selves, “This is…it’s different. But I love it.”

One of her prevailing memories from all those years in the paddock is the large amount of time that teenaged Annie Beaumont and Max Verstappen spent getting on each other’s nerves. As one of Luc’s main rivals, she always tried her best to derail the Dutch driver in any way possible. It had led to more than a few very public arguments, and scolding from their parents (as well as a few paddock officials when things really got out of hand). Though, with the benefit of hindsight, Noa begins to remember things a little differently – the way that Annie somehow always managed to bring Max up in conversation, whether positive or negative; the way Max would search for her gaze across the paddock, just to give her a dirty look. Noa isn’t sure how she never saw it before. Thinking back, it was all so obvious. They never hated each other. They were just too proud and scared to admit their feelings.

“I guess you’ll have a lot of questions.” Annie giggles, noticing the still present look of dazed bewilderment on Noa’s face. The Brazilian woman nods her agreement almost instantaneously.

“You have no idea.” She chuckles.

“We should meet up some time.” Annie then suggests, her tone quietening with her slight nerves, “I can give you all the details then?” Noa’s gaze softens. It’s been far too long since they last saw each other. After the nightmare that was 2018, she all but cut everyone off; not just Charles, but everyone who had ever been connected to or associated with him. She just didn’t want to be faced with the reminder of seven years of friendship, poured straight down the drain in one night. It hits her now that in doing that, she also lost the one friendship that may have been able to lift her out of the hole she dug herself into. Noa is ashamed to say that she’s hardly thought of Annie since that day. It’s selfish, she knows, but she needed to wallow in her own grief for a little while, to let it sink in, so she could finally begin to accept it. Well, there’ll be no more wallowing from now on, Noa tells herself. She’s done letting Charles Leclerc ruin her life.

“Sounds perfect.” she grins back at the woman, another former best friend, and Annie’s face lights up like the pitch black sky in a fireworks display, “There’s a lot we need to catch up on.”

“You don’t say.” she smirks. It’s familiar, a memory from the past when they were close enough to tell each other their darkest secrets. Noa has missed it desperately, “You’ve got some explaining to do.” Annie raises an eyebrow. It doesn’t take a genius to interpret what exactly she means. The Brazilian driver grimaces; but really, an explanation is the least she can offer to Annie after everything. She owes her that, if nothing else.

Noa is about to speak again, to ask her what she’s been doing all these years that they’ve been apart, but Max suddenly calling to someone across the other side of the room makes her freeze. He moves slightly away from the pair, as if he’s giving them the option to keep talking, and waves both of his hands over his head. He’s trying to summon whoever it is. Noa’s blood runs cold. Somehow, she knows exactly who Max Verstappen is calling. It’s as if she can sense him.

“Charles! Carlos! Over here!” he yells, seemingly indifferent to the disapproving looks he gains from some of the other guests. She watches as his arms drop, and a bright smile overcomes his face. That means they’ve seen him. It means they’re walking over. Noa’s head drops for a moment to rest her chin on her chest, as she sucks in a deep breath.

“Shit.” She hisses to no one but herself. Annie hears it, and flashes her a sympathetic look. She is the only one of the three faced away from where the two Ferrari drivers are now surely fast approaching. No doubt, Annie can see them. Maybe she can see Charles, and how reluctant he is to walk over while she’s there. Maybe Carlos is all but dragging him. Or maybe he hasn’t even noticed she’s there. That might hurt her more than anything, if she’s still so torn up about the death of their friendship, and he no longer cares.

“You want a drink?” Annie whispers to her. Noa feels a sudden, overwhelming sense of gratitude. She’s quick to nod, the corners of her lips tugging upwards gratefully.

Annie calls over one of the waiting staff in an instant, who are milling around the guests with trays of cocktails balanced precariously in their arms. She takes a glass with gracious thanks, and hands it to over. As soon as the cold neck of the glass in her hands, Noa downs its contents in a single gulp. She lets the liquid burn her throat with a satisfied hum, before dropping her arm and turning to stand beside Annie, who is staring at her in shock. She knows if she looks up now, she’ll see him, probably now standing all but five metres away. But something is stopping her. So Noa instead focusses her attention on her friend – not one of the former nature. At least not any longer.

“That bad, huh?” Annie whispers again. She grimaces.

“You have no idea.”

It’s clear there can be no backing out or running away from this when Max steps forwards to embrace the two drivers, beginning first with Charles before moving onto Carlos. Though Noa still doesn’t look up, she can hear his voice. It sounds exactly the same as the last time she heard it over two years ago; just as smooth and soft, but all she can hear are the harsh words he spoke to her on that night. They’ve tainted every memory she has of him now. It’s all overshadowed by the betrayal.

Noa is snapped out of her thoughts when Carlos approaches, moving away from Max to where she and Annie are stood side by side. He greets the Belgian woman first with a familiar, friendly hug, before turning to her. He smiles, even though she can already tell he knows everything. Noa can somehow always tell. There’s something knowing glinting in his eye, not anything obvious, but just enough to be recognised. It’s the feeling of knowing something about a person that you maybe should not necessarily know. He’s not trying to show it, and he’s probably not even aware of it either – but Noa always has been. Perhaps because her paranoia searches for it.

She pushes the thoughts from her mind, stepping forward with as bright a smile as she can muster to meet the Ferrari driver in the middle. “Hi, I’m Noa.” she introduces.

Carlos’ eyebrows arch, “Oh, I know.” He chuckles, “It’s wonderful to finally meet you.” She doesn’t have time to think about the many possible implications of his words before he’s stepping forwards to wrap her into a hug. Noa accepts it, and it doesn’t feel strange or forced as she may have feared. The exchange is as normal as any other, like there is no tension hanging in the air at all. When she pulls away, she even manages to smile at him, properly this time.

All that evaporates in an instant when she turns, her gaze locking onto those green eyes she’s both been dreading and longing to see for over two years. Charles Leclerc is watching her intensely, his lips ever so slightly parted. For a moment, all Noa can think to do is stare. Though it seems he’s suffering from the same dilemma.

He looks older than when she last saw him, which isn’t a massive surprise, considering it’s now been well over a year since the 2019 season ended. He’s lost most of the soft, childish curves to his face, replaced by sharp, high cheekbones and an angular jawline. The navy blue suit framing his body only adds to this newfound maturity he seems to have gained. It’s fitted to barely within an inch of the limit, tight in all the places it should be, accentuating the muscles in his arms, legs and chest which hide beneath the fabric. Charles has always been attractive – it’s simply a fact she learned to accept as a teenager – but now that seems to have been multiplied tenfold beyond anything she remembers. He looks impossibly good: annoyingly. She’s supposed to be upset with him, yet all she can focus on in those first few seconds are the depth of his eyes and his cupid’s bow lips.

Then she spots the Ferrari logo emblazoned on the breast pocket of his suit. Like someone clicking their fingers in front of her face to snap her out of her daydream, any tenderness or familiarity she may have been feeling towards him in her moment of weakness suddenly fades. All that remains are the familiar flames of anger, licking at her belly. Noa’s eyes narrow. Charles notices the change immediately.

“Uh, we’re going to get drinks from the bar.” Max says, clearing his throat awkwardly in the tense silence. He takes hold of Annie’s arm gently, ready to pull her away with him to give the two some space, “Carlos, do you want anything?”

“Actually, mate, I think I’ll come with you.” the Spanish driver announces hastily, hurrying away from Charles’ side before his teammate can attempt to drag him back. He shoots him a look over his shoulder. Noa can’t quite read it.

“We’ll see you in a bit!” Max calls brightly. The other two cringe at his forced enthusiasm, but follow him towards the bar anyway. As she leaves, Annie looks back at Noa, offering her an apologetic smile. She grimaces, her heart sinking low into her stomach. Now she has no line of defence, no one to fall back on if this conversation – or whatever it is Charles is trying to do by being here – becomes too much. Noa stares down at the empty bottom of her glass until she’s sure they are gone. Only then does she look up, finding a pair of green eyes already watching her.

She doesn’t know it, but Charles’ head is spinning. Everything he’d done to hype himself up before walking over here, and even before, to prepare himself to see her again, quite frankly, goes to absolute shit. He’s completely forgotten how he planned to start this conversation. The words are lost to the uncomfortable silence.

Noa Senna looks almost nothing like the young girl he last saw at the end of 2019, and even less like the one crushed on that awful day the year prior – one of the worst days of his entire life. He supposes it’s to be expected. She is twenty one now, a fully fledged adult now living an adult life. But it’s not just the face that she’s grown up that hits him hard. It’s how much she’s matured; how beautiful she’s become. Charles had always thought she was beautiful, even when they were kids, but nothing quite like this. Noa, stubborn, headstrong, fierce Noa, is now almost nowhere to be seen. A young woman stands in her place, stripped of all her childlike innocence. On the one hand, Charles is in awe of her. But on the other, she’s almost unrecognisable as the Noa he knows – or used to know. Undoubtedly breath taking, yet somehow less full of life. At least as he remembers her. Then again, it has been over two years since he truly saw her, and people can change a lot in that time.

Either way, the combination of shock and awe inside him is killer. His eyes are caught on the way her dress dips with every natural curve of her body. It fits her like a glove. Charles curses himself. He’s making this much harder for himself than he wanted it to be, because suddenly his mouth is dry and he’s too wracked by nerves to formulate any kind of situation-appropriate greeting in his head. He is, to put it simply, lost for words.

“Hi.” He speaks eventually. The moment the words leave his mouth, he cringes. Noa stares back at him in disbelief.

“Hi?” she returns. It comes out as more of a scoff than anything else. For the moment, Charles chooses to ignore it, pushing forwards with a strained smile.

“You – uh – you look beautiful.” He says, gulping when Noa’s expression remains perfectly impassive. He’s not sure what’s worse: gaining no reaction, or gaining the reaction he initially feared when he blurted the words out. Disgust. At least then he’d know what she is thinking.

Noa simply doesn’t quite know what to say. She’s too angry, too wracked with disbelief to find herself flattered by his compliment as she may have been a few years ago, or if she was thinking straight. How does he have the nerve to approach her, after two years of absolutely zero contact, and say something like that? It simply doesn’t make sense to her. The only think she can make sense of is the anger it sends coursing through her veins.

“What do you want, Charles?” Noa asks, a tired sigh slipping past her lips. Her mind flickers back briefly to the promise she made to her father, but in the moment, engulfed by flames, she is blind to it; wanting nothing more than to get as far away as possible from this man and his piercing green eyes. Charles feels his heart sink.

He’s pushing back all the questions he wants to ask her, trying to respect her wishes – to get straight to the point. But oh how he longs to simply sit down and talk to her again: to ask her about her day, to catch up on everything he’s missed in his absence. Instead, Charles focusses on the pressing matter, the one he originally intended to discuss with her, but seemed to forget all about as soon as he caught sight of her once again.

“I take it you know about the Chanel contract?” he asks after a moment of internal debate. Something heavy settles over his heart.

“Yes.” Noa replies. She ignores the flash of disappointment that flares up in her chest at his seeming indifference. But it’s not like she expected him to strike up a friendly conversation – that’s not how things work between them anymore.

Charles nods. He’s fighting for his concentration, mind racing as he tries to remember the rough script he came up with in his head on the car journey here. Yet no matter how hard he tries, the words just don’t seem to want to come to him.

“Do you want to go somewhere a bit quieter?” he speaks up again finally, ignoring the strange look Noa is giving him after his prolonged silence, “So we can talk.”

The Brazilian woman sighs. There are people all around her whom she either knows well or has at least been acquainted with before. Some are even strangers, and at this moment, she’d rather throw herself into a conversation with them than do this. She can see Daniel Ricciardo has joined Seb and Kimi now, not that far away from her, and Lewis is just across the room, talking to newly arrived Mark Webber. Of course, Max and Annie are only at the bar too. She could easily blow Charles off to join them. It would certainly be a much more comfortable situation for her.

But then she’s reminded of her father. Noa makes a point of keeping his trust in her as secure as a lockbox at all times, because he’s done so much for her over the years, she can’t even imagine lying to him. Besides, she knows for a fact that he would never lie to her. Noa has made a promise. As much as she wishes she could go back on it now, she needs to do this. Both for the sake of her potential contract with Chanel, and more importantly, for her father. She’ll just have to grin and bear this one.

“Alright, fine.” She concedes. Charles tries to hide the relief that flashes across his face. Luckily, she’s too preoccupied looking around the room for a quiet place to sit down to notice it, “There are some empty seats over there?” she suggests. He follows her gaze to a small, two-person booth in the corner of the room. It’s both far enough away from the majority of guests for them to be able to have a conversation in private, while also being close enough so they won’t look too out of place. Convenient. Silently, he nods, and they both make their way across the room to the booth.

Charles grabs a drink each for the both of them on the way. He hands one to Noa as she takes the seat opposite him. She doesn’t thank him, but he’s not surprised.

“This is a big opportunity for me.” the Brazilian woman speaks first. He’s a little relieved at that, but only because it means he has to struggle again to find the right words, “I don’t have to tell you how important a sponsorship like this is. I want it to work.” Noa pauses, sucking in a deep breath, “But I don’t know how it’s going to with you there.”

Charles’ eyes narrows. He feels the pain of her words like a dagger, but he feels the accusation stronger.

“They want us both, Noa.” he shoots back. She tries to ignore the way her stomach flips to hear her name spoken from his mouth. “Not just you. This is a package deal. Do you not think I need this as much as you do?”

Her heart drops. A scowl overcomes her face. Those all-too-familiar flames of anger seem to be making a reappearance, despite her desperate efforts to tame them.

“No, actually. I don’t.” she all but spits in reply, “You’re Ferrari’s golden boy. You can do no wrong.” Her voice drops dangerously low, eyes darkening until they’re almost black, “But I’m the first woman to drive in Formula 1 in almost thirty years. I need the safety net.”

Exposure like this is the best thing she can gain at the moment. That way, she builds a loyal fanbase before the season starts – a fanbase that will stand by her, even if things don’t always run smoothly. Noa knows how delicate this whole situation is. She knows that the second her performances start to dip, Chanel and any of her other sponsors could drop her in a heartbeat. That’s why she needs their backing now. Charles on the other hand, is already one of the most popular drivers on the grid. In the eyes of the Tifosi, he really can do no wrong. Sure, he may benefit from the money a deal like this will bring to both him and his team, but he doesn’t need the security like she does. Without it, he’ll still go on to keep his seat without a struggle. Noa might not.

“Are you serious?” Charles hisses under his breath, “Are you really going to make this all about you again?”

His words send her reeling. Her mouth falls open in shock and outrage, but for a good few seconds, no sound comes out. This reminds her so much of the night their friendship ended. The way he’s looking at her now, eyes blazing with anger and frustration, lips pursed as if to hold back the torrent of hurtful words he no doubt wishes to say to her. Noa won’t let it affect her anymore. She refuses to let her eyes prickle and flow with tears as they did then, even if Charles is making the same mistake that cost them seven whole years of friendship.

“Do you really want to start this argument again?” she says, as calmly as she possibly can. The softness of her voice snaps Charles out of whatever spell he is under. Immediately, the anger and frustration, remnants from two years prior, flows straight out of him. All it leaves behind is regret. But he’s past the point of being able to apologise, he knows that. After everything he’s done, no matter how many times he says I’m sorry, Charles doubts there is anything he can do to make it up to her. If the look in her eyes isn’t testament to that fact, then he doesn’t know what else is.

“No” he sighs, running a hand through his hair, “I don’t.”

“Good.” Noa shoots back. Her voice is as cold as ice, “That’s not why I agreed to talk to you. I’m doing it because I care about my career, and I don’t want our past getting in the way of it.”

Charles nods. He can barely even bring himself to meet her eyes now. The fear of what he will see in them overwhelms him.

He wonders how they managed to get themselves into this situation. Besides the obvious, of course (his own stupid pride). Once – not so long ago in the grand scheme of things – Noa had been everything to him. She was his best friend, his confidant, his biggest supporter, and most of all, the one person he always believed would stay by his side. But, like so many others who came before, he lost her. It may be different, because she’s still alive and well, sitting before him now, so close he can see her rosy cheeks where her blood flows steadily beneath her skin. Noa is still with him on earth, but she’s never felt so distant. It’s a different kind of loss. In a way, it hurts just as much.

The tense silence between them feels so wrong. For two people who had once been the most important presence in the other’s life, this fall from grace is the most dramatic of all. The most heart-breaking.

Someone is calling them before they have the chance to speak again. It’s Sebastian, with a half-full glass balanced precariously in his hand, looking both apologetic and curious. Noa stares at him. She’s torn between feeling grateful that he’s cut this excruciating exchange short, and feeling irritated that he’s interrupting just as she feels they’re finally about to get somewhere.

“We’re going through for dinner now.” he tells them. They both nod in reply, but make no move to stand. Sebastian turns on his heel after that, marching back towards where Kimi is waiting for him. Noa catches her teammate grimace at the Finnish driver, shaking his head. She sighs.

“We should probably go.” Charles speaks up first. A hum is all he receives in reply, yet still, neither of them make the move to stand. This conversation is still very much unfinished. They’ve got a lot to work through if they’re ever going to be able to work together comfortably. One night simply isn’t going to be enough, they realise that now.

Noa watches with raised eyebrows as Charles reaches to pull his phone out of his pocket. He punches the passcode in quickly, tapping a few more buttons before he places it face up on the table and spins the screen around to face her. It’s open on the contacts app. Her gaze snaps up to watch him with an expression he can’t quite interpret.

“If you give me your number, we can arrange another time to meet up.” he explains, “I’ve got some testing to do in Maranello next week, so maybe after that?”

Noa doesn’t reply. She simply continues to stare down at his phone, her eyebrows knitted together ever so slightly.

“You deleted my number?” she asks quietly.

Charles’ lips part, but no sound comes out. His mind stutters for a moment, trying to come up with an explanation. He’d deleted her number almost immediately after their fight, too overcome with fury to pause and think about the potential consequences of his actions. But once he’d done it, there was no going back. In the moment, he’d wanted every trace of Noa out of his life. If only he’d known then how much he would later come to regret that decision.

“It’s fine.” Noa waves him away as he begins to stammer out some kind of excuse, “I deleted yours too.”

Only after she’d tried to call him about a hundred times, but she’s sure he doesn’t need to know that part. It perhaps explains why she never received any answer, but for some reason, that only makes her feel worse. The anger is gone, replaced by the sadness and regret she’s been trying to ignore for months. Noa just hopes Charles can’t sense the change in her demeanour. Though, if he’s still the same Charles she remembers deep down, he’ll be just as in-tune with her emotions now as he was back then.

Silently, she types in her number into the new contact on his phone. It feels strange to simultaneously add her full name into the empty space, rather than one of her many childhood nicknames he’d given her when they were young. It’s so formal – so unlike them, as they used to be, anyway. Noa’s heart is heavy when she slides the phone back across the table towards him, and he takes it, fitting it back into his pocket.

This time they do stand up. The other guests are beginning to file into the dining hall by now, a low hum of chatter settled amongst them which gradually grows softer as each person moves out of the room one by one. Noa notices that Sebastian is waiting for her by the bar. She smiles over at him gratefully. At least she knows he’ll have her back this season, whatever happens.

Just before she can walk over to her expectant teammate, a gentle hand on her arm halts her in position. She freezes, turning slowly at the sound of Charles murmuring her name in a tone so soft she can barely hear it. He hasn’t touched her in over two years, she realises. Not since that night has she felt the warmth of his hand on her skin. Noa hates that it still manages to send sparks coursing through her body, a pleasant shiver shooting up her spine. After all this time, all the heartbreak, and she’s still as weak as ever.

“Noa.” Charles repeats, just as softly as before, snapping her out of her trance. She looks away from where his hand rests on her arm, gaze lifting to meet his eyes. They’re wide, shining with something she thinks is…hope? He takes a small step away from her, clearing his throat nervously. There’s a lot he wishes to say to her right now; some bad, some good, but all of them honest. One thought pushes his way to the front of his mind. I’ve missed you, he thinks. But he can’t say something like that to her, not now. So he settles for another truth; one not quite so risky as the admittance that he’s spent every single day of her two year absence wishing she was there by his side.

“It’s good to see you.” Charles says finally. Even if she’s changed almost beyond recognition, even if it seems as though she’d rather be anywhere but here with him right now, he’s glad she is. It’s been far too long.

Noa can do nothing but stare. She’s not angry anymore, but she’s not sad either. She just feels empty. Charles Leclerc has lost his power over her, just as he lost her friendship over two years ago. Maybe it is a good thing she’s seeing him now. Maybe this will begin the process of gaining closure: of letting him, and whatever they used to be go. Without a word, Noa turns away, striding across the room to where Sebastian waits for her, not even sparing Charles a second glance. He watches the emerald of her dress slide along the floor, and closes his eyes. When he opens them again, she’s gone. Too late to see the regret he wears, his heart out on his sleeve.

“How did it go?” Sebastian asks as they walk side by side into the dining hall. He glances back towards the door, from which Charles has still not emerged.

“It was ok.” Noa murmurs in reply, “All things considered, it could have gone a lot worse.” She lets her eyes wander the room, searching briefly for their assigned table. When she finds it, she taps Sebastian on the arm, and they make their way quickly over, weaving between the other tables so as to cause as little disturbance as possible, “I think we’ll be meeting again to talk in more detail about what we’re going to do, though.” She admits. Sebastian looks to her with raised eyebrows.

“And how do you feel about that?” he asks. He’s not stupid – he can sense the lingering animosity between the two former friends (or at least, Noa’s animosity towards Charles) as clearly as anything. As much as she’s fierce and headstrong, Sebastian has also come to learn that his teammate does not enjoy confrontation. No doubt, they’ll be quite a lot of that in the time it takes for them to figure out how they’re going to move forward.

“It needs to be done.” Noa says with a resigned shrug, “The contract is pretty clear – either we’re both in, or neither of us are. As much as I wish I never have to speak to him again, I care about making this work more.”

Sebastian hums. They’re nearing their assigned table now, where most of the other Formula 1 drivers in attendance are also sat. Just as they approach, he steals a glance at Noa, trying to read her expression in the few moments he has before she catches him. It’s impassive to the untrained eye, but Sebastian has always figured himself to be someone who’s very good at reading other people’s emotions. Despite her callous words, he can see she’s hurting. Noa believes she means it when she says she never wants to see him again. Sebastian knows she doesn’t really. She’s simply telling herself she does.

They take their seats around the table where their name places are set out. Luckily, they are next to each other. Noa is pleasantly surprised to find Max Verstappen seated on her left, with Annie on his other side shooting her a look that says, ‘As soon as this is over, you’re telling me everything.’ Sebastian looks like he’s just won the lottery when he sits down next to Kimi Räikkönen, whose blank expression lifts for only a split second when he sees his former teammate. For a moment, Noa doesn’t even spot the empty seat in front of her on the other side of the table. She’s perfectly oblivious, wrapped up in the distraction of conversation with her fellow drivers.

Then another round of greetings ripple across the table, and she looks up. Charles makes his way towards the seat in front of her, next to his teammate who waits to pat him on the back and shoot him an encouraging look. Noa sighs. Her eyes find Sebastian’s.

It’s going to be a long night.

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noasenna_updates Noa at the Rolex Monte Carlo Sponsor’s gala tonight! She’s wearing a custom made emerald Chanel formal dress, which was apparently especially designed for the occasion! 😍

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reviseleviathan · 1 year

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So now that we’re super close to the end of Third Beat (and in particular have passed balcony which I was always going to have Thoughts about the adaptation of), I’m putting to text some thoughts I’ve had (positive and some a little negative) about Third Beat’s adaptation choices with both 28-29 and overall with Momo and a little bit with Yuki over the course of the season. There’s some stuff that had to be missed/skipped out on due to time constraints, which I do understand, but I do think some of it is really good to know so you could also consider this a bit of a shorthand crash course on stuff that’s a bit different for anime-onlies who are curious how things went down in the game. That said, I always rec reading the game story if you have time because a lot of Re:vale’s shenanigans have to get cut for time in the anime; Part 2 to Part 3 Chapter 10 and the rest of Part 3 were both done by translators on Tumblr. Dodge Part 3 Chapter 20 until next week if you don’t want spoilers and you’re all good. With that said, on to the ~meta~

Episode 28-29 -The anime has Yuki realise who Momo went to talk to exclusively because he overheard it on the phone. In the game, Yuki overhears the conversation and discusses with Momo that it might be a trap. This is actually where Yuki’s “Some people are irredeemable” speech initially happens - the anime intercut it with the slap scene, which I actually really enjoyed as a time-preserving choice, since it is relevant to that conversation as well, but also comes at the cost of some of the lines that were originally in the slap scene. Overall, the changes made sense but the cut elements do make it more obvious that Momo knows meeting Touma is risky even if Touma himself means him no harm. -This second point is probably the single biggest change from the game - there’s an entire cut interaction between Momo and Ryou before Ryou leaves Momo’s apartment, where Ryou has watched Momo have the first few drinks forced on him but decided it’s time to leave before he gets caught at the scene of the crime. Probably best known among the fandom for Momo basically telling Ryou to get fucked in a drunk candid moment before backtracking and fake sucking up to him instead, it makes one thing very clear that the anime doesn’t: that Momo ultimately stops Ryou from outing the twins by tricking him into thinking he and Yuki have a retaliation in place already. The anime does not touch on this at all, and while Ryuu’s intervention spares Momo and Yuki, there’s minimal explanation of why Ryou wouldn’t go after the twins regardless after that encounter, especially since he’s so pissed off with Ryuu. This is the explanation for it - that Momo manages to seamlessly lie to him that they’ve got insurance for if it happens despite him literally only finding out about it a few minutes before Ryou showed up to crash his and Touma’s meeting. Given time constraints I can see why they cut this scene, but it is a real shame considering it’s one last moment of Momo getting one over on Ryou even under threat of imminent death. -Another fairly major change but one I think was handled pretty well was that in the hostage scene after Yuki’s arrival, Yuki was the hostage, not Momo. The initial part proceeds similarly - Momo hits one of the suits and tells Yuki to run, but then is hit back - however, in the game what happens while Momo is incapacitated for those few seconds is that one of them grabs Yuki and then smashes the bottle to hold him hostage with. I can kind of understand why they changed this for visual reasons: there’s a certain level of comedy to Momo’s reactions to Yuki’s bluff, and I think the animators realised that if Momo was reacting That Obviously confused about Yuki’s claims of being strong enough to hospitalise 30 people within line of sight of the suits, it’d be rather easy to tell Yuki was bullshitting. Having him facing Yuki allows those reactions in a position where the suits can’t see his face and makes the comedy/tension interplay more effective. My one reservation here is that it’s made abundantly clear in just about every I7 media that Momo is extremely strong - the game implies that there’s a third suit involved in Momo’s capture and they’re still struggling with him when he’s at such a severe disadvantage, which Yuki even points out in the game as part of his bluff (implying that Yuki’s mention at the door that Momo wouldn’t dare hit him means he’s stronger than the already very strong Momo). Given the anime switched the alcohol used for this scene from cheap sake or at least cheap generic alcohol to spirits, I can buy that Momo’s lack of effective resistance as a hostage here is because the sheer amount of alcohol in his system is catching up to him, but it does kind of stand out when by all rights of what we’ve seen him do (particularly when Yuki is endangered), they should not be having such an easy time holding him back. -Due to the switch in hostage, the anime skips Yuki almost collapsing out of the fear he had to hide once he’s released and the suits leave, and Momo coming to fuss over and compliment him before Yuki slaps him. If anyone felt that Yuki slapping Momo a new one Literally Immediately felt a bit abrupt, that’s why. I assume Yuki did check on Momo prior to this because when Momo’s dropped in the anime he’s closer to the bookshelf, whereas the argument happens in front of his window, it was just another sacrifice to the accursed 24 minute episode length gods. There were also some extra comedic lines to this scene after Momo’s “Wow, you’re really pissing me off”, including Yuki explicitly suggesting they settle the argument with their fists and Momo saying he’ll still K.O. Yuki despite being so drunk he can barely stand up. why are u both like this yuki you know momo could win a fight against you just by sitting on you or picking you up Third Beat overall -There’s one factor in the adaptation in regards to Momo that I really have to talk about because I’ve seen it have bearing on how people interpreted certain events or Momo himself - the anime cut a lot of Momo’s more savage, dry, or biting lines to people during Third Beat. Momo’s actually quite wry and sharp-tongued, particularly when he’s losing patience with someone but also just when he’s poking fun - he joins in on a few of Banri’s roasts on Yuki during the game version of the bar scene (which was also several chapters earlier in the game). However, the bigger impact I’ve seen with this was with the framing of Ryou and Momo’s interactions in the first cour. While the dynamic is still highly toxic and demonstrates Ryou having a massive level of entitlement towards Momo, who by that point is mainly appeasing him because he’s a useful contact with information he needs, Momo gives back as good as he gets in pretty much every one of their scenes in ways that the anime largely tones down or removes. One particular example that can definitely affect the reading of their dynamic is Momo’s departure after disclosing Re:vale’s backstory in an attempt to tap into what little empathy Ryou might have - in the anime, he mostly seems sad and resigned, which I’ve seen at least a few people read as Momo being some sort of naive uwu who never realised what kind of person Ryou was. In the game, Ryou suggests that Momo stay over because he’s had a few to drink, and Momo (cw: emeto reference) drops by far one of my favourite of his bitter, wry roasts in the game: “I’m gonna puke at the entrance and leave. Thanks for having me over.” Momo is much more jaded about the number of untrustworthy people in the industry and how he has to handle his industry interactions than the anime tends to get into, and by the end of things with Ryou, there is a bitterness and irritation with him that comes across abundantly clearly even before Momo lets it all out on him during balcony. While Momo is willing to give people a chance in many situations where it may not feel deserved, he is not naive and he is not unaware that Ryou is a dangerous, twisted person even when he reveals Re:vale’s story. It’s a last-ditch effort to demonstrate how flawed the image Ryou has of idols is and stop his behaviour from escalating, because he knows if he’s going to draw any emotion out of the man then he has to dig as deep as possible - and he has to make it something personal, because as twisted as it is, Ryou’s consideration of Momo as a “friend” provides that tiny, tiny chance that he might respond to his feelings. Unfortunately, at that point Momo is unaware that Ryou considers the Yamato incident Momo’s second betrayal of him, and a lesser one than the first “betrayal” that’s revealed during the balcony scene, so it comes to nothing. As you can probably tell, I have a lot of thoughts about this particular adaptation choice, but tl;dr I highly recommend you read the game if you’re a Momo fan, because he’s actually kind of a fuckin savage on the regular and the game tends to make it clearer that he’s quite possibly the most dangerous person in the main cast if he has reason to be. Even people who are prepared to make an enemy of Ryou hesitate at the idea of making an enemy of Momo. -This isn’t really just a Third Beat thing but public service announcement for yukimomo enjoyers: you think they act romantic in the anime? The anime cuts a substantial amount of their flirting for time, since it’s essentially characterisation fluff and that’s always first on the chopping block. Want to see Momo talk about spicing up the relationship by wearing underwear with Yuki’s face on it, grumble about how Yuki’s handsome even when he’s mouthing off, call him a high class gentleman and a sexy icon that no other man in the world could hold a candle to? Want to see Yuki talk about how Momo begging steered the course of his life and the general implication surrounding the Re:vale backstory drop that Yuki, in a sense, also considers Momo a god or at least a gift from the gods to keep him going with his love for his music? Read the game. Also read the rabbitchats if you have time - these are the stories/conversations that come with cards in the game and the Re:vale ones always have at least one moment of pure, concentrated homosexual agenda per chat, but usually more. The Silver Sky bonus chats in particular, which take place post-Part 2/Second Beat, are foundational yukimomo content where you can learn such magical secrets as how Momo used to just kinda kidnap Yuki places while he was sleeping (feat. Momo’s fantasies about capturing and brainwashing Yuki that are discussed in multiple rabbitchats because momo why are you broadcasting this in groupchats you degenerate /affectionate), the fact that Yuki actually pierced Momo’s and his own ears to help get over his fear of sharp objects enough to cook again, and Banri’s thoughts on current Re:vale feat. him describing them both as feral. anyway if you read this far i appreciate you i just had to get these words out somewhere

#i7s3spoilers #idolish7 #idolish7 third beat #momo #yuki #re:vale #momose sunohara #yukito orikasa #this is a big long meta post basically because i have too many thoughts #yukimomo are a disaster mess and i love them for it #continues broadcasting the momo is not a pure sunshine uwu actually agenda forever

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queenvidal · 2 years

Text

The Girl Who Never Cries

Negan x Reader (Rick's Daughter)

(Not my gif - found it on pinterest. If it's urs, contact me for proper credit)

Chapter 4: The Favorite

Chapter Summary: Faced with a soon starving Alexandria, your team choses to head out for a most dangerous run, much to the dismay of your worried father, because your condition is only getting worse.

Wordcount: 3715

Notes: I'm sorry for any grammar mistakes or wrong spellings, English isn't my first language.

- Part 1 of the The One And Only Series - Takes place during the beginning of season 7.

Chapter Index: Chapter 1 /Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 (End)

Masterlist / Negan x Rick's Daughter Series

“You’re not going, Y/N!” Your father calls after you when you step out of the house, covering your face with a scarf. “Did you hear me?”

You curse under your breath, speeding up your steps towards the pantry to grab something to eat for your run. “Yeah”, you yell back, not turning around. “And I decided to ignore it.”

The garage door is already open, so you hurry inside and quickly grab a can of beans. Upon turning around and leaving, you stumble against your father but you catch yourself quickly.

“Dad, I don’t have time for this.” Annoyed, you roll your eyes. It’s still early in the morning, but if you had your way, you would have been on the road already. Rick has been arguing with you for days now, drawing out your departure.

Quickly you round him, but he grabs your jacket, effectively hindering you from going away. With a sigh on your lips you stop struggling and let your backpack fall from your shoulders to the ground, Rick clearly wants to argue again.

“You are sick, Y/N-” He starts but you interrupt him right away.

“And that's why I am going, I need meds asap and can’t wait two weeks. We’ve been through this already.” You adjust the scarf that is covering your face, sitting just below your eyes and you accidently touch the sensitive flesh of your cheek, resulting in you hissing out.

Rick rests his hands on his hips, looking over to the parking lot where your team, consisting of Daryl, Sasha and Carl are waiting for you. “You’re not fit enough for that, Y/N. We’re not talking about your usual trips here.”

You dismiss him with a wave of your hand and cross your arms afterwards. "It’s just a cold-”

“It’s not and we both know that.”

Your eyes roll again, “Whatever, I’ve gotta go. One blind Grimes should be enough, don't you think?”

Rick is about to retort something, but whatever he’s about to say remains unvoiced, because of noises at the gate that's disturbing the two of you. You turn from the pantry to the street, looking at what's happening.

“Ah, for fuck sake”, you curse under your breath when you see familiar trucks enter Alexandria. You hoped you wouldn’t be home for the next pick up.

Interacting with Negan has already been strange as it was. Now with the incident with Michael and all, you fear it would get even more awkward. And weirdly enough, you just couldn't get the worried eyes of his out of your mind. You still wonder, if you just imagined it, the slight frown, his hazel eyes scanning your injury-

“We don’t have much to offer this week”, your father whispers, tearing your mind away from the memory. Your eyes blink a few times before you sigh a tired yeah in response. Tara and Aaron went out to search for more gas and keep an eye out for anything edible for the saviors but they haven’t returned yet and you and your teams could not move out without more gas.

Oliva and you had to move some of the hidden stuff back to the surface, leaving you with enough food for about approximately two more weeks. It’s one of the reasons you have to move out, despite your current condition.

You feel your mouth getting dry when you watch Negan jumping out of his truck. Of course he has to lead the pick up again. He and one of his higher ranked, the woman called Arat, are making their way through the town, followed by their men and heading your way. You turn around towards Rick, he is glaring daggers towards Negan's direction.

“Dad,” You urge, knowing the Saviors love to punish threatening looks. “He saved me”, you remind him. “Try to be at least civilised. You’ve gotta thank him.”

He only scoofs at that. Of course he is grateful that you are okay, considering. But he despises the fact that it is because of Negan. He was beyond mad when he learned about the incident with Michael, that no one of your own people paid enough attention to prevent the assault.

The whole situation is obviously not easy for him, so you advice in a soft voice. “I already did and when I can swallow my pride you can, too.”

Again you cross your arms, while waiting impatiently for Negan to reach you two. Your posture is unnecessarily dismissive, but you don’t feel like dealing with neither him, nor your dad today.

Rick adverts his eyes back to the ground, when Negan gets closer. The head of the saviors notices it, his smile growing wider in response. His voice carries a teasing undertone. “Good morning, Rick.” Once he reaches you two he turns his attention to you, his eyebrows raising in question. “Y/N.”

“Good morning”, you respond, ignoring his questioning look.

A few saviors walk past you into the pantry to pack up this week's goods. Rick lets them pass before speaking up,“We didn’t find much this week, but-”

“My doc gave me a list.” Negan interrupts your father, handing you a folded piece of paper. “I’m sure, you still have some of that in stock.”

You’re about to unfold the paper when your father tears it out of your hand. With a scowl on your face you take a deep breath, letting his eyes skim over the text. One word in particular is making Rick look up at Negan again. “We can’t hand them over, we need them ourselves.”

“Dad,” you warn but to no avail, Rick just keeps glaring at Negan, whose subtle smile changes into a stern mien. He takes one step closer towards your father.

“It’s not a request, Rick.”

In hopes of defusing the situation, you take the list back again, looking over it. No wonder Rick protested, the saviors want the meds you need yourself. Luckily your scarf is hiding the majority of your face, that way no one can see your defeated expression. After a quiet sigh you look back at Negan.

“One sec,” you tell him, before turning on your heels. There is no point in arguing with the saviors and you are neither in the mood, nor in the condition to do so.

Negan nods at Arat, commanding her to help you. When you and the other woman are out of ear-shot, the leader of the Saviors turns back to your father. “Now, Rick. Isn’t there something you wanna tell me?” He asks with a shit-eating grin on his face.

Rick keeps watching you and Arat walking down the street, not saying a word. After a moment Negan slams Lucille against the wall between the two, causing Rick to flinch. “I’m talking to you, prick!”

“What do you want me to say?” Your father growls, meeting Negan's eyes.

Negan enters his personal space, towering him. “How about a fucking thank you for saving your own daghter, while none of this sorry shits here did anyting. How about showing some graditute, or is that too much to fucking ask?”

Rick takes a step back, looking back at his own feet. Quietly he whispers, “Thank you.”

“What was that?” Negan puts one hand up to his ear. “I didn’t catch that.”

“Thank you.” Rick repeats, louder this time.

“See, Rick? Was it that hard?” The teasing tone returns together with Negan's grin. “Now, while we’re at it, what happened to the fucker that slashed her face open?”

“That’s not your business.” Rick retorts, crossing his arms, while keeping his eyes on the floor.

Negan narrows his eyes at him, “It is my goddamn business, if someone is after the only useful scavenger of this community. Our second visit was a fucking waste of gas, because while she tore her own leg into pieces, trying to gather shit for me, you assholes were twiddling your thumbs.”

That's not entirely true. While you’ve been to the mall, the others were scavenging as well, but everything they found went to the hidden stash. But obviously Rick can’t correct Negan on that matter, even if he dared to. After a deep breath, Rick finally tells the head of the Saviors that Michael is still locked up in a cell.

It’s earning a huffing laugh from Negan. “That's a joke, right?” Rick just shakes his head and Negan's grin vanishes again. He looks at Rick in absolute disbelief. “You wanna tell me you seriously let the guy live who almost killed her?”

Not voluntary. Rick wanted Michael dead and he tried to talk you into demanding exile but you meant it, when you told Negan you didn’t seek revenge and exile was as good as a death sentence. As dissatisfied as Rick was with your decision, he still respected it. But Daryl on the other hand did not even listen to the whole story. When he heard about you being hurt and when he saw your face, rage wasn’t even close to describe his outburst. Before someone could hold him off he went to the cells and jumped at Michael. Daryl strangled him almost to death, only your pleading and the crawling on his arms made him finally let go. It was scary to see Daryl losing it like that and you wondered, if you looked like that, when you killed people in fury.

It only reaffirmed your position - no more killing.

Your dad's eyes stay on the ground, not daring to meet Negans. “It’s been her choice, not mine.”

And just on cue you return with a plastic bag in your hand. “Here, that's all we have left,” you tell Negan before giving him the bag. After a quick glance at the contents he hands it over to Arat.

“I’ve made a copy of your list,” you inform him while also handing him his own back. “I put checkmarks on everything that’s in the bag. We’re heading out today, I’ll see what else I can get you from the list. Oh, almost forgot,” with a sigh on your lips, you open your fanny pack to get your pill bottle.

But before you can hand it over, Rick places his hand on yours, “Y/N, you need those.”

“I’ll find new ones.” You mumble while holding the bottle out to Negan, who takes it from you.

"Thank you, sunshine," He casts a warm smile at you. "You never disappoint."

Sasha suddenly appears behind you, carrying her own backpack. Her eyes wander between you and your father briefly before asking, "Can we go, are you ready?”

You nod at her, “Yeah.” And walk out of the pantry to get your backpack. Once it’s resting on your shoulders again, you hug your father hastily. “Bye-bye.”

You look at Negan one final time before Sasha and you move to the cars together in silence. After a few steps you bump your shoulder against hers lightly. “Thanks for the rescue, I’d never gotten away from there.”

She winks at you before patting your shoulder. “No problem.”

When you guys finally reach the cars, you find some of your people who came to say goodbye. Olivia waves at Daryl while hurrying towards you. “Here,” she beams at you, holding out a thermos bottle.

You take it with a smile of your own, even though she can’t really see it besides the squinting of your eyes. “Thanks, Olivia. What is it?”

“Soup.” She exclaims with excitement. “Well, broth actually. But I hope it will make you feel better, boosting your immune system a little bit.”

You reach out to hug her tightly. “Thank you so much.” It’s heartwarming how much some Alexandrians actually care about you. It’s something you still can’t wrap your head around. Especially considering all the difficulties regarding you and your history, when your group first came into town.

Rosita and Michonne are next, hugging you briefly and wishing you good luck. When everyone had their turn, you check on Daryl and Carl, both telling you they are ready to move out. Daryl and you go for the truck, while Sasha and Carl go for one of the cars. When you’re about to hop in, you hear your name.

“Y/N!” Negan calls you, standing a few feet away from you. “One word before you go.”

You suppress the urge to roll your eyes. What does he want now? Slightly irritated, you throw your backpack on the passenger seat, before making your way towards Negan. “Yeah?”

“I’m not particularly pleased by how you’ve handled the asshole that attacked you.” He states with an unreadable expression.

“Huh?” Is all you manage to respond, looking at him in confusion.

“If he had attacked your brother, would you have done the same thing?” He questions you.

You shrug your shoulders. “Well, he didn’t and we don't sentence people based on what ifs and maybes.”

“And what are you trying to achieve?“ He interrogates further.

“Rehabilitation.” You state, making Negan's brows raise. “He’s locked up in a cell with just enough rations not to starve. He wouldn’t have the energy to pull something, even if he wanted to, so he's not a threat anymore. In a few months he can apply for parole.”

He shakes his head dismissively. “You know, doll? If you don’t want to get your hands dirty, which so far never bothered you, as far as I can tell, I’d be more than happy to lend a hand. That fucker needs to know his place - right off the bat.” You can’t help but snort. “You’ve made that joke already.” And it wasn’t funny the first time, with your life and the ones of your loved ones on the line. Strangely you are still kind of amused now, maybe you're not as fit as you thought, if you can laugh at something like that.

Negan grins in return, but before he can say anything, you continue, “I appreciate your offer, but his blood would still be on my hands, whether I kill him myself or tell someone to do it for me.”

“Suit yourself, sunshine.” Negan sighs in annoyance. “But the offer still stands, just let me know.” Why is he so adamant about killing Michael? You get why Rick and Darly are, you guys are family, but Negan? But before you can dwell on that, his voice sounds again.

“What's up with the scarf?” He asks in a calm voice.

“I’m sick,” You explain. “It’s contagious and I don’t want to infect others.”

He chuckles, guestering at the worn shorts that you're still wearing. “No wonder. It’s what, maybe 50° degrees and you’re still dressed for summer?”

“If I had weather-appropriate clothing, I’d be wearing something else,” You defend yourself, closing your jacket tightly in response. Funny enough, you didn't even notice the cold until he pointed it out.

He considers you for a moment before he takes a step closer towards you. “And your face?”

“Not so good,” you tell him, though it's a big understatement. Your leg was not good, your face is fucking bad.

“Can I take a look?”

Even though you actually don't want to show him, you remove your scarf regardless, carefully pulling it down.

Once your face is exposed, Negans expression changes slightly. As he’s taking in the wound, he looks almost compassionate. “Well, shit.”

While Michael missed your eye, it’s been only by an inch. The cut runs from just below your eye down your entire face to your jaw. Due to your lack of equipment and supplies you could not treat the wound efficiently. The cut itself is angry red in colour and the skin around is swollen. It’s throbbing at times and feeling hot.

“Does it hurt?” He asks, though he can figure it does just by the looks of it.

You affirm in a tired voice, “Like a bitch.”

He nods at you, signaling you can cover up again and you do so immediately. “Is it infected?”

You shake your head, “Not yet. Until now it's just an inflammation, but…”

He estimates, “It will get infected eventually.”

“Yeah,” You confirm, “And if I get really lucky I’ll go blind. While the cut isn’t connected with my eye directly, it’s still close enough to make contamination very likely. So far I’ve been able to keep the inflammation in check with high doses of ibuprofen but I’ll need either antibiotics or disinfectant creams soon.”

“Goddamn,” He curses under his breath. His eyes wander from yours to the ground for a moment before he looks back at you, scratching his beard. Suddenly he reaches for something in his pocket, it’s the container you gave him at the pantry.

He hands it over to you. “Take ten.”

Surprised, you knit your eyebrows together. “I… are you sure?”

He nods. “Can’t risk the only useful Alexandrian going blind on me, now can I?”

A small smile tugs on the edges of your lips and you take the container from him. It’s nice to hear a word of validation, even if it’s from the enemy. After you took ten tablets, you give the container back to him. “Thanks, Negan.”

You put them in the pockets of your jacket while you ask, “How long can you wait for the drugs? Most likely not that long, considering the sick kids.”

He frowns at you in response. “How the hell do you know about the kids?”

You wave with the list you’ve copied. “I assume it’s the common cold? Adults usually don’t take paracetamol in liquid form.”

Negan can’t suppress a surprised smile from forming on his face. “You never cease to amaze me, sunshine.”

You can’t tell whether you’re blushing or a fever is finally showing itself. Lucky the scarf is covering the change of color regardless of the reason. After you’ve cleared your throat awkwardly, you try to ask him again. “Well, I’m gonna be on the road for a while, so.”

“We’re not out yet, next week should work.”

“Alright,” You sigh, “Then I’m gonna pass the list to team A. My team won’t return within the next two weeks.”

Another frown. “Where the fuck are you guys going?”

“Cities”, you explain. “Gonna grab whatever we can get our hands on. Medicine, food but also bodycare stuff, stationeries, clothing-”

“Cities?” He repeats with eyebrows raised in question. “What the hell, you have a death wish or something?”

“Not really, but we are running low on pretty much everything. We don’t have enough gas for me to scout ahead, so we have to make sure our next run is a guaranteed success. No one risks scavenging in overrun places, so we’re counting on at least one full truck load.”

He asks bewildered, “How do you wanna pull that off?”

“We’ll be walking among the dead. They don’t recognize you, when you’re covered in their blood and guts.” You explain almost nonchalantly. “Won’t be our first time doing it.”

Negan looks at you, as if you were insane. “Why the hell would you risk that, Y/N?”

You look at him with an raised eyebrow, isn’t it obvious? “You.”

It takes Negan a moment to understand what you mean. He narrows his eyes at you, “You do realize that there are plenty of places that are not filled with a shit ton of dead?”

“So far the living have always posed the biggest threats.” You blurt out and regret your words immediately. Quickly you try to back paddle. “But there won't be many around presumably, so we'll be fine considering.”

Negan considers you for a moment, his expression turning stern again. “Pass the list to your other team. My people can’t wait that long. Would hate to kill the kids in their sleep, not that you know about that.”

That hurt and was absolutely uncalled for. You know what he is reffering to and it’s very unsetteling how much he knows about you due to Deannas stupid interview.

When she asked whether you’d consider yourself a murderer, you answered with a yes and of course she wanted you to elaborate.

You told her about Otis. That Shane was injured and you decided in a split second to sacrifice the man who shot your brother, to escape the horde that was coming after you.

And you told her about Gina and her son Max. Both got the flu back in the prison. You knew they wouldn’t make it to the next day and decided to kill them when they were asleep. Partly to end their suffering, but primarily to prevent them from turning unnoticed, if they suddenly died.

And then there was Lizzy, though you did not pull the trigger, her death was still your responsibility. What she did to her own sister and was about to do to yours put you into furry. You left no room for a discussion about Lizzy's fate, one of your knives was already in your hands, when Carol volunteered to put Lizzy down.

In the end your pharmaceutical background was the only thing that saved you from exile back then, even though many disagreed with Deanna’s decision. They assumed you to be an unpredictable psycho and Rachel's death almost rekindled that old perception you’ve worked so hard on losing.

“Fine.” You finally say, forcing yourself not to show how much that comment actually affected you. “Anything else I should be looking for, anything you need?”

Negan turns on his heels with a sour expression, “Just don’t get yourself killed. Would be a waste of ibuprofen.”

For a moment you look after him until he disappears behind one of the Saviors trucks. Never talk back to Negan and what did you dumbass do? While shaking your head, you turn to make your way to your people. If you could, you’d kick yourself for so stupidly crossing a line.

You wave at Rosita to come over to you, while meeting her halfway. After you gave her the list and a few instructions, you two hug one final time.

Eventually you finally find yourself sitting in the truck, a blanket over your legs and the still hot thermos bottle in your hand. Daryl looks at you from the driver's seat with concern in his eyes. “You good?”

“Yeah, let’s just go.”

Chapter Index: Chapter 1 /Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 5 / Chapter 6 / Chapter 7 (End)

Masterlist / Negan x Rick's Daughter Series

#The Walking Dead #negan smith #negan x oc #twd negan #negan #negan x reader #negan / reader #rick grimes #carl grimes #michonne #daryl #daryl dixon #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #twd

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canonicallyobserving911 · 11 months

Text

Buddie: Season 7 Speculation - Multi-Chapter Fanfic

Fanonwriter2023 on AO3

Where CANON and FANON collide!

Hiatus Reading

Chapter 1 is already available on AO3 and Chapter 2 will be posted this weekend.

__________

“I’m still in love with you but... I needed to learn how to love myself too!”

Chapter 1: 12K words Rated: Mature

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Summary: Months after Buck and Eddie were hit by the same lightning strike; they’re still struggling with the aftermath of it. But before they make their love confessions, they’ll spend time getting to know themselves as individuals first. Eddie learns to enjoy the simple things in life as he participates in activities on his own and with new friends while Buck learns the rest of the 31-year-old deep dark family secret about his conception and birth. Their journey to forever is still a work in progress but once they finally admit they’re in love with each other, everything that follows their love confessions will be cataclysmic.

__________

Here are two snippets from chapter 2 and it’ll be posted this weekend.

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Buck

Kameron’s crying, Connor’s yelling and Buck’s looking at Dr. Fredricks still at a loss for words.

Once Buck’s finally able to mentally tune back into the conversation, Connor’s talking, actually he’s screaming at the top of his lungs. His voice is tight and the longer he yells, the angrier he gets.

“I’m confused Dr. Fredricks because Buck told us he donated and his sperm should have been used to help us conceive…”

If Buck’s tongue would work, he’d verbally agree with Connor right now but his tongue feels like it’s being held down by a tongue depressor. He distinctly remembers giving his donation so he’s not sure what happened. Then memories of all the problems he had every time he went to the clinic to donate rush to the front of his mind like a tidal wave and even though he doesn’t want to believe a sperm clinic could mess things up this badly, he wonders if they mixed his sperm up with someone else’s.

He understands Connor’s frustrations but he’s choosing not to intervene yet because he doesn’t want to make things any worse than they already are and he wants to see what else Dr. Fredricks has to say.

Dr. Fredricks shakes his head to interrupt Connor. “Listen... I think everyone needs to take a breath before I continue”.

Eddie

“Tia, I—I know you’ve been trying to help but I’m asking if you would please stop trying to set me up on dates.”

He pauses to see her reaction and he notices the stunned look on her face but to him she doesn’t look upset so he continues.

“After all the things I went through over the last five years, especially the last two, I need more time to work on myself. “

She nods and he continues.

He looks at her with pleading eyes. “Two years ago, I was shot in the middle of the street by a sniper…” He pauses and takes a minute to collect himself.

“Then I had panic attacks followed by a mental breakdown… and while some of that stuff was all related, there were other things I hadn’t dealt with yet. It took me a long time to recover and with the help of my therapist along with all my family’s and friends’ love and support, I’m still healing. You already know all of this but the thing you may not know is for the last year, I’ve been happy just getting to know me. I’m learning how to move forward with my life.”

___________

Continue reading on AO3

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #christopher diaz #the buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family #911 fox #911 on fox #911onfox #911 abc #911 on abc #911 season 7 #911 season 7 speculation #buddie fanfic #New Buddie Multi-Chapter Fanfic #ao3 fanfic #911 fanfic #Fanonwriter2023 on AO3 #Hiatus Reading

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kvetchinglyneurotic · 2 months

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hello terrifying talented friend! i come bearing more ask game numbers than is reasonable so feel free to pick and choose!

2, 11, 13, 17, 35, 73, 81

💚💚💚

Thank you my friend!

2. talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

This was what happened with most of the back half of The Hedgehog’s Dilemma! I intended for Ted to have a fairly minor role, but I wrote his conversation with Jamie in chapter 3 and there was so much of his own baggage with his dad lurking under the surface that it promoted him to one of the main characters. James Tartt also unexpectedly invited himself to practice while I was writing the scene where Jamie picks him up from the train station in chapter 5, and the fallout of that ended up being most of the plot for the rest of the chapter.

11. what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

I know so much about reality dating shows now, including a bunch of research into American shows that I probably didn’t need to do. Apparently after someone gets eliminated from The Bachelor, they have to ride around in the back of a limo with one of the producers until they could get a shot of them crying, even if it takes a very long time (which is maybe more sad than neat).

How much research I do for my fics depends on how much research I have to do in my academic life — when my life was consumed by thesis research over the summer, I hardly did any, but now that I’m mostly onto the writing/editing portions, I do it more often.

13. talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

Writing fanfic! I think I’ve mentioned before that I started off writing original fic, and for some reason I was convinced that fanfic would be way more difficult. It isn’t, and furthermore is a lot of fun.

17. what is your favorite line you’ve ever written?

Damn you, inability to remember any line I’ve written after I’ve written it! I’ll go with:

They’d got stuck to each other, these past days, like those little birds that rode around on top of capybaras but if the capybara saved the bird from his shitty bird dad and promised to take him home to see his bird mum, and in return the bird was so blindingly handsome and good at football that the capybara was honoured to have him riding around on his back, actually, even if he pretended not to be ‘cause he was a grumpy old twat.

from THD because I got a lot of nice comments about it, so now capybaras are permanently associated in my mind with people being nice to me on the internet, in addition to already being my favourite animal. I love those funky little guys.

35. tell us about a character who’s very different than you who you love a whole lot

Rebecca! She’s a delightful schemer in season 1, very poised and put together on the outside but kind of earnest and sweet on the inside. I’m also occasionally a schemer, but we’re generally very different people and want very different things out of life — I don’t think anyone would describe me as poised or earnest, and I don’t want a life partner of any kind, and definitely not kids.

73. how do you visualize scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow?

I can picture some scenes very clearly, but more often as static images rather than like a movie, so it’s a mix of trying to describe what I see in my head and just writing.

81. if you could go back in time and give your younger self a piece of writing advice specific to you, what would it be?

You don’t have to write quickly! It’s okay if you don’t make your word count every day or takes days off or set lower goals. In fact it often works better — it’s easier to be deliberate in your writing when you aren’t pushing to write a chapter a week.

#asks #ask games #thank you!#kvetch oc

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laf-outloud · 2 years

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My 2 cents on TW. It’s actually less lousy than I expected. Drake does a really good job as John. Makes me want to see his evolution into the John we know. He me reminds of a young Sam, including running away from home against his parent’s explicit wishes. Great parallel and well-acted by Drake. Mary and John having conversations and banter while travelling the back roads in a muscle car is also a great parallel and full of SPN feels. Milly Winchester is really cool, it’s great to get to know her. The music is great and the general look of things is better than I feared. BUT there is a LOT to criticize:

Dean narrating adds nothing and Jensen has forgotten how to be Dean. It would be better if this direct link to SPN was cut and TW could just stand as a show on its own in the same universe.

Too much clumsy exposition.

They stole much of the plot from the SPN Pilot. Bad manners, that. There’s a difference between adding easter eggs for fun, and just recycling old ideas because you can’t come up with new ones. Coordinates, I’m looking at you. But then again, I’ve watched the SPN pilot like 12 times. Maybe for a regular SPN viewer who watched the pilot once back in 2005, it would come over differently.

The absolutely cringe slapstick first fighting scene with John and Mary needs to go. I can’t believe they kept that in and even put it in the trailer. The rest of the episode John is shown to be capable, a quick study, and able to hold his own in a fight. Why they start him off as ridiculously incompetent I have no idea. Also, 3 punches from a trained marine a foot taller than her should have put Mary in the hospital.

They crammed an overabundance of plot and monsters and lore into one episode. Already in the first episode they arrive at a MoL chapter house. Less would be a lot more in this case. I don’t know why they did this- for the new audience it must be so confusing to keep up, and for SPN fans who will get the references and be able to follow it’s just a reminder of how much more dumb and shallow TW is compared to SPN, especially early SPN. The MoL chapter house looks as if they held Satanic masses there FFS.

They process all the clues very quickly and superficially. We are just supposed to be believe that a bunch of teenagers crack decades old secrets and codes in minutes.

Meg is an unconvincing Mary. A Disney version of Mary. They should have made her meaner and defensive, unwilling to let John tag along and certainly unwilling to tell him anything about her family. John should at first be the chivalrous sweatheart that he is towards her but eventually pissed at her for her attitude. John taking the whole season to break through her defenses would make their story much more compelling and would also be consistent with SPN lore, that they did not even like each other at first. Instead, they're already eyefucking halfway through the pilot.

Meg’s acting isn’t really good. Drake is a lot better.

I don’t know why they praise JoJo as this fantastic actor because in the pilot at least his acting as Carlos is lousy. The other two sidekicks do better.

The overall feel is really Scoobynatural with some third-rate Indiana Jones thrown in and sprinkled with moments from a young adult coffeeshop sitcom. If they want to make this work, they should scrap the scoobygang. Let the sidekicks do their own thing instead of having the lot of them band up, if they have to be there at all. Better yet, kill them off.

There have been a few people that have said the same about the narration. Jensen was so insistent on bringing back Dean that it didn't matter if his inclusion would be one of the most awkward parts of the show.

"3 punches from a trained marine a foot taller than her should have put Mary in the hospital." LOL!

"Let the sidekicks do their own thing instead of having the lot of them band up, if they have to be there at all. Better yet, kill them off. " I think this might actually be the plan. The POC sidekicks have no critical importance to the story and can easily be replaced. Not exactly great representation there.

"The overall feel is really Scoobynatural with some third-rate Indiana Jones thrown in and sprinkled with moments from a young adult coffeeshop sitcom." I can see why hellers would like the show.

Thank you for sharing your review, anon! It's good to see a considered review that takes in the positives as well as the negatives.

#ask box #tw review #anti spn prequel #jensen critical #anti hellers

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forabeatofadrum · 2 years

Text

Thank you @martsonmars and @you-remind-me-of-the-babe for the tag, reminding me it’s Sunday. I am here to make up for last Wednesday, when I had nothing to show. I have three things for you today!

First, six sentences from Time After Time/“damn Baz, you live like this?”. It was pretty hard to pick them, since I don’t want to spoil where the story is heading to, but I think these are vague enough:

I tilt my head and raise an eyebrow, silently asking what is going on.

“Simon?”

“I love you,” he blurts out. I can’t help it. I start to smile, even though I notice that he doesn’t smile along. In fact, he looks desperate, as if he needs to me to know that he loves me.

The full chapter will go up tomorrow, because I finished it in time! In fact, I have finished writing the fic! I can’t believe it either, because I’ve been stuck on this fic for over a damn year, but I have @facewithoutheart (and Doctor Who season 9 oop) to thank for shoving me in the right direction. I think I also know what to do with the two endings: both. I added an eleventh chapter called [REDACTED] so that I could still sort of post ending no. 2 as a separate thing from ending no. 1! Excited!

And look who’s back, back again? Klaine! I really want to participate in the Klaine Word Scramble, and a random idea came to me. I haven’t written anything else but these six sentences, so I definitely will not post the story according to the schedule, but that is okay:

Blaine is proud of his position within the community. Everyone loves his homemade scented candles. His stand is a staple in the local farmers market.

But now a new neighbour has opened his own business. Kurt Hummel sells his handmade soaps and all of Blaine’s clients are flocking his stand. Jealousy does not look good on Blaine, but he can’t help it.

Now I just need to find a damn title.

And lastly, my dude MCD (Matt Christopher Davis) has thoughts on Simon:

I take a look at the Chosen One. He has only been part of the World of Mages for a few months, but he’s already gotten himself in a lot of trouble because of this whole Insidious Humdrum shit. He’s constantly missing classes and Miss Possibelf says he’s on missions for the Mage and the Coven.

But honestly, I don’t care. I mean, I care about the Humdrum, because that thing eats magic, but our Chosen One can be the hero who saves the day. The rest of us just lives here, you know?

Tagging @quizasvivamos @blurglesmurfklaine @coffeegleek @esperantoauthor @otherworldsivelivedin @bookish-bogwitch @caramelcoffeeaddict @sillyunicorn @wellbelesbian @artsyunderstudy @bazzybelle @dragoneggo @captain-aralias @ivelovedhimthroughworse @cutestkilla @raenestee @takitalks @urban-sith (Tumblr tried to make me tag undertale for some reason) @facewithoutheart @tea-brigade @thnxforknowingme @confused-bi-queer @tectonicduck (I don’t know if you write, but you always like my damn Baz stuff, so here ya go!)

#six sentence sunday #i am... emotional #over finishing damn baz #i mean as always i will probably make some small rewrites every here and then #but the main story is def finished #as in i see it as finished #it is done #TIME TO DELVE INTO THE MCD FIC #no i jest i kinda wanna try and figure out what to do with the klaine one #i want it to have a similar vibe to the bakery fic but i have zero (0) plot points in my head so we'll see #tagged in

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stayxlix · 11 months

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CHAPTER 4 LET’S GAURRR!

Ooh ‘the eighth’ sounds sexy Welcome back to season 3 ( or 2?) of Julian’s play-by-play commentary hehe🤭 Sorry in advance for how long this ask is gonna be.

“You will come across many soulmates in your current lifetime. But that doesn't mean you will get to keep them.” WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?😃Pls don’t raise my blood pressure from the get-go. Anyways concept photos ate as always. Bottom left one is my favourite. The minsung one is kinda unsettling tho… foreshadowing maybe👀

Btw Minho best not give me a hard time this chapter I literally do NOT have the capacity to deal with his beef rn. Idk why I think mc will win Jeongin over tho. But hey, we’ll see! I’m literally weak with excitement!! Oh and 15k + wordcount is crazy btw I’m so proud of you <3

“Out of all of the memories he had ever made, Felix had pushed most of them away. He buried them so deep that sometimes, he wondered if he would even be able to recall them if he tried.” *takes a long breath* that… hit home.

Wait so Chanlix are all the way from district 2?? Damn. This concerns me so much because the life they have now in district 6 must be lowkey paradise compared to what they probably had before. I’ve been wondering if the rebels have family. But we’ll see.

“…using Jeongin's homemade "thunder bombs" 퉤 퉤 퉤! 소리꾼! (TWE TWE TWE SORRIKUN)

“Not everyone had as much to offer as Minho, who was beyond skilled in his knowledge of healing.” Now I feel bad for going off on him in my reaction vid :((((( Also ngl Hyunjin's perception is impressive. The way he's already figured mc and lix out. Could never be me💀 I'm so blind when it comes to this kind of thing.

Hold on….“Remember what we all agreed on, before you get too attached.”

HOLD ON…. “The same thought that had been replaying over and over again in his head since he saw that damn family crest around your neck.”

I HOPE THEY’RE NOT PLANNING TO KILL ME HELP– I really hope they didn't make a pact to end me💀💀✋

“So what if he wanted to know how you looked with your lips wrapped around his *[dinky-donk]* instead.” I have so many inappropriate things to say…. (This was WILD)

“Felix wasn't like Jisung, who could charm his way into convincing whatever semi-interested human being he stumbled across in god knows where to fuck him.” You sure about that bro? Let’s not forget chapter 1😃

“Terrified for this moment to end because once it did, you would be forced to come to terms with the permanence of the decision you had made tonight, and what it meant for not only your future, but the future of every innocent person that you passed by, sleeping soundly without any idea that a war had just begun.” SO WELL WRITTEN! SAURRR WELL WRITTEN MWUAH

“and then, to your surprise, he left your side without a word.” UHM???? EXCUSE YOU???

“But that wasn't the only reason.” PURRR MC GO GET THAT *[retracted for the sake of modesty]*

“…and sometimes Jisung who just likes to be wherever Minho is.” You’re so real for this BAHAH💀💀

“He took a few steps closer, inviting himself into your personal space once again.” TRYING TO KEEP IT TOGETHER RN BUT I’M SLOWLY LOSING MY SANITY

“Oh, I dont know. The fact that you can't seem to keep your tongue out of my mouth?” I LOVE MC WITH EVERY BONE IN MY BODY UGH JCKVJDNSL

“After all, every time you'd kissed, he had been the one to initiate it.” THAT’S THE THING!! TELL THE MF!

“Felix was the king of sending mixed signals and you had half a mind to call him out for it…” DO. IT.

“Felix brought his hands up to rest against the wall on either side of you, closing you in.” I don’t want to keep reading I cannot keep reading I’ll d!e if I keep reading I-

my sweet Jules🥹💕💕💕 can I first just say that your enthusiasm for this story is so much more appreciated than you will ever know. like words cannot even BEGIN to express how i felt when I saw your asks pop into my inbox yesterday, but i will do my very best. i’m finally sitting down for the evening to answer these (and have been looking forward to it for two whole days) so lets get started..(i'll make sure to comment as much as i can without revealing any spoilers🤭)

"I HOPE THEY’RE NOT PLANNING TO KILL ME HELP– I really hope they didn't make a pact to end me"

and already i'm reminding myself..NO SPOILERS

“...Hyunjin’s perceptive is impressive...”

especially when it comes to lix.🫢 and don’t feel too bad about going off on minho just yet….

“You sure about that bro? Let’s not forget chapter 1”

i’m💀 omg lix doesn’t see himself this way alright.😂😭 (however right you may be)

it means so much to me that you always take the time to mention the concept photos and i will never ever forget when you said that each chapter has a different color that you associate with it. that touched my heart more than you will ever know.🥹🤍 and the word count honestly at the rate I was going I was terrified it was going to be something like 18k lmao but thankfully we were able to condense a bit.😂

THE THUNDEROUS LYRICS.😂 ty for including this lmao i HAD to include a thunderous reference somewhere because it may or may not be my fav skz song of all time and I will fight anyone who tries to tell me it isn’t a masterpiece

"SO WELL WRITTEN! SAURRR WELL WRITTEN MWUAH"

(ily lmao) this was a last minute addition like an hour before i posted the chapter🤭 so the fact that you included it here made me giggle. and if i’m being honest our mc really has become very special to me too. i had absolutely no idea when i first started writing this story how attached i was going to become to her but i really have grown to hold a special place for her in my heart so once again thank you for this.💕💕💕

going to head on over to part 2 now....(mostly because i need to cut myself off or i will spend all night on this one ask alone because there is so much to unpack with your commentaries and you know i absolutely love you for that<33)

#otde.feedback #alex answers asks♡#astralis is typing #ily<333 #part1/5

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no-droids · 3 years

Text

Home

gif credit: @javier-pena

Part Eighteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.5K

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

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

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

Day 5–11:13am:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Extravagant, magnificent are both words. Floral is another.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5—5:04pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–5:17pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s here… isn’t he?

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

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

This… this is a taunt.

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

“You okay, Nerida?”

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

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

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

***

Day 5–5:32pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that’s when you see him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Unless…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–5:24pm:

Din is fucking furious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–6:59pm:

This water is quiet here, but it sparkles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Din.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Day 5–7:37pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Naydee smiles and nods. “Sounds perfect.”

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

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

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

***

Day 5–11:32pm:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Something catches your eye.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Behind you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Rigid steel that bends only for your touch.

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

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

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

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

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

—Bong—

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

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

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

One o’clock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“—ve you—I l-love y—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It takes you a second.

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

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

“Ma—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Commotion.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The crib—he forgot the crib—

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

You raise your voice. “Din?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Okay, well. You could just about fucking cry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Home.

***