#i also love her outfit to pieces and her blue-green hair is stunning | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

no-droids · 4 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.

***

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

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #smut #reader insert #fanfic #star wars #rough day #no-droids

8K notes · View notes

possiamo-andare · 3 years

Text

Just You (5)

JJ x Reader x Rafe (love triangle)

MASTERLIST

word count: 7.4k

a/n: you know I had to sprinkle a couple of jane austen references here and there ;)

The Midsummer festival had been celebrated at the Cameron household for decades, if not longer. Their family was one of the oldest in the small town of Outer Banks and it became tradition for Rose Cameron to organize the event. She spent a majority of her year planning for one night of festivities, relying only on her close friends for help. She bore the brunt of the work, deciding on the theme, caterers, decorations, live band, venue, and so on. After all was said and done, Rose slept for a week, exhausted from all the planning. At one point in her and Ward’s marriage, she had almost decided against planning it at all since the task was so stressful. But she had pushed on, determined to make this year’s Midsummer festival the best one yet.

And, in theory, she succeeded. This year’s theme was regency; an idea that slipped into her mind after she had watched Pride and Prejudice for the first time. Rose had a taste for the finer things in life and although Ward gave her everything he could, she did grow envious of the women who lived in the regency era and got to live in exquisite dresses. So, with further support from her friends, Rose handed out invitations to Outer Banks’s elite, citing on the invitation that this year was regency themed. Now, all she needed to do was plan the festival.

She decided to host the festival in a beautiful hall called the DeClaire Hall. Most of the time, the Midsummer festival was hosted merely from their big backyard that spanned acres of land. But Rose wanted to outdo herself and prove to the snobby PTA moms that she had what it took to host an event for the town. This hall was one of the only ones in Outer Banks and it was rarely used, mostly because the Outer Banks’s Historical Society deemed it a national landmark. It had been a hotel for the elite some 120 years ago and it had not been used in the last fifty. But it was beautiful, the original marble and vinyl floors still in great condition, and Rose knew the festival had to be thrown here. So, with permits from the city council and Historian Society, Rose began planning the Midsummer festival at the DeClaire Hall.

Once word spread of where the festival was being held, everyone was gossiping about it. All the Kooks, even the ones who thought they were too good for the Midsummer festival, had RSVP'd. Well, everyone except Y/N’s parents.

“You’re not going?” Y/N grumbled, entering her kitchen with loud stomps of her feet. She had just got off the phone with Sarah. who had mentioned to Y/N that her parents had never RSVP’d.

“Your father and I decided that none of us are going.” Y/N’s mother spoke sweetly, cutting her daughter's sandwich in half. She placed her plate on the table, but Y/N made no move to sit.

“Why?” Y/N stood tall, watching as her mom and dad walked around the kitchen, preparing lunch. Her siblings were at the table, eating, but she promised herself to go on a hunger strike until her parents let her go.

Her father stopped for a moment and looked up from his plate. “Sweetie, why do you wanna go to a party like that anyways?”

Y/N furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

This time, Y/N’s mom spoke. “You said it yourself a couple days ago; the Cameron’s have been nothing but unkind to you since you got here.”

“But not Sarah! She’s been nothing but nice.” Y/N felt a deep urge to defend her friend from her parent’s hurtful words.

“Yes, Sarah is lovely but I’m not talking about her.” Y/N’s dad began. “I’m talking about Rose Cameron, who didn’t let your mom join the PTA and called your mom names behind her back. And Ward Cameron, who bad mouthed me to the country club so I wouldn’t get in. And let’s not even talk about how rude Rafe Cameron has been to you.”

Y/N bit her lip, shuddering at even the mention of Rafe’s name. “Seriously? Firstly, mom didn’t even want to join the PTA. She hates those snobby women. And you,” Y/N points to her dad. “You don’t even like golf. It’s bad for the environment.”

Y/N watched her mom roll her eyes. “That’s not the point, Y/N. Even if we don’t want to do those things, we should at least have the choice.”

Y/N sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. She knew her parents, in some ways, were right but she still wanted to go. She had never dressed but before and she wanted to feel like a princess for at least one night. “But I wanna go. I already stick out like a sore thumb in this town, I just want to fit in for one night.”

Y/N’s parents glanced at each other, sorrowful looks on their faces. They hated seeing their daughter so upset and tried to swallow their own disgust. Finally, after looking at each other for a moment, their eyes returned to Y/N.

Y/N’s mom spoke first. “If you go, promise me you’ll be careful.”

Y/N’s eyes lit up. “I promise.”

Y/N’s mom forced a smile, unsure on whether she made the right decision. She wanted her daughter to be happy, but she also wanted to protect her daughter from the Cameron’s bitterness. “Okay, then you can go.”

Sarah had bought five regency themed dresses for the Midsummer festival. She had the first two tailored, a white and pink one but, when they didn’t look the way she wanted, she custom ordered another three from a small business on the mainland. The three dresses; a blue, green, and yellow one, had been shipped from the mainland to OBX in a matter of days and had come in just on time. Literally. The morning of the festival, a frantic delivery man dropped them off at the Cameron house. This was literally Sarah's last hope. If none of them looked good on her, she would just not show up.

Thankfully, the blue one fit perfectly and looked like a dream on her. It was a sky-blue silk dress that flowed down to her feet. The sleeves, which were this blue lace material, ended just above her elbows. The dress, although flowy, was cinched just a little at the waist by a ribbon. It looked absolutely stunning on Sarah and Y/N made sure to tell her the second she saw her friend.

“You look gorgeous.” Y/N spoke sweetly, marvelling at even how Sarah’s hair was styled. It was in this half up, half down hairdo; the top pieces of her hair held together by the same fabric of her dress.

Sarah blushed, shaking her head. “Have you seen yourself?”

Y/N had and even she had to admit that she was blown away. Sarah had let her choose from all the dresses she had, and Y/N decided on the white one. It was of the same style as Sarah’s dress but much more elegant. Sarah didn’t think she could pull it off but as she looked at Y/N, she knew her friend made a good choice. It was a white satin dress with short sleeves but, over the satin dress, lace was decorated. Stitched into the lace were small red flowers littering the dress. It was beautiful and complemented Y/N so well.

Not to mention, Y/N’s hair looked breathtaking. It was a simple style but matched the sophisticated theme of the festival. The two front pieces of Y/N’s hair were pulled back, the only thing holding them together was the same red flowers that decorated her gown. She passed Sarah for a moment, looking at herself one more time in the full-length mirror. She was in awe of how she looked.

Y/N rarely had an occasion where she could dress up this elegantly. At her old school, she had been invited to prom by a senior and went with him, dressing up in a pink floor length gown, but that had been years ago. Besides, she didn’t exactly have the best time since the senior that invited her never even asked her to dance, too busy with his own friend group to care if she was having fun.

Y/N shook off that awkward memory. This time it would be different. This time she was going to a party with someone who genuinely liked her. She had a feeling that she was going to have a different experience at this party.

“Sarah!” Rose called from downstairs, momentarily stopping Sarah and Y/N’s conversation. “It’s time to take pictures!”

Sarah looks to her bedroom door, then back at her friend. “Ready?”

Y/N nodded, a slight flutter in her chest. She knew Rafe would be down there, and she wondered, for a moment, what he would think of her dress. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

Unfortunately, Rafe was concerned with other matters. As Y/N and Sarah made their way downstairs, Rafe stood uncomfortably in his father’s study. They had been in there for five unbearable minutes. Rafe dreaded every time his dad had to speak to him alone because he knew it’d only spark an argument. They rarely got along; Ward being too tough on Rafe and Rafe constantly looking for validation from his father.

“You’re going into your first year of university in the fall and you have no plan.” Ward said, rather matter-of-factly.

Rafe gulped. Against his father’s approval, Rafe enrolled in the business program at the University of North Carolina. His father wanted him to enroll in a science program, which he thought was more structured. But Rafe wanted to own his own business someday, just like his dad. Besides, although he was good at science, he didn’t enjoy it the way he enjoyed the business classes he took in high school. What Ward didn’t know was that Rafe had a plan, he was just afraid to share it with his father for fear that his father would disapprove and eventually stop helping him pay for school. Rafe couldn’t do it alone and he knew his dad’s money would help.

“I’m taking courses that will help me graduate. I promise I know what I’m doing dad.”

Rafe pulled at the collar of his shirt. He wore a stunning but simple suit. He wore a white dress shirt, the two top buttons unbuttoned for comfort rather than for style, and a black fitted blazer. The gold cufflinks Rose gifted him shone against the light in his dad’s study. The most annoying part of his outfit definitely had to be the sleeves. There were annoying frills at the edge of them, some type of embroidered pattern sewn into the sleeves. It was supposed to scream regency, he remembered Rose saying, but all he wanted to do was scream bloody murder.

“I’m giving you one year Rafe, if you don’t have a plan by then,” Ward sighed, massaging his temples. Rafe grew sad at the idea that he was stressing his dad out by simply following his dreams. “I’m cutting you off.”

Rafe didn’t try to protest. He knew there was nothing he could do to change his dad’s mind. All he could do was prove to his dad that he made the right decision. He had to be the best and he had to outperform everyone in his class. That way, his dad would be proud of him and support him in university.

Rafe only nodded at what his father said, making no effort to even respond. Over the years, he figured it was best to just let his father get the last word.

There was a knock on the door before any more words could be exchanged between the two. Ward, knowing that it was probably his wife, welcomed the person inside. The door opened slightly, only enough for the person to peek their head through. It was, in fact, Rose. Rafe smiled, remembering to make sure it looked like he was having fun. Rose had gone through all this trouble to plan this festival, the least he could do was play along.

“Oh, honey, we’re taking some pictures before we leave.” Rose’s voice was quiet and mellow, not wanting to disturb whatever conversation Rafe was having with his father.

Ward smiled, nodding sweetly to his wife. “We’ll be right there.”

Rose nods, leaving the door slightly ajar so Rafe and Ward can follow after her. Ward makes his way towards the door, glaring at Rafe.

His words are just as menacing as his glare. “Do not disappoint me.”

Rafe doesn’t even nod this time. He’s too afraid. He knows, not only by his dad’s glare, but also by how his dad leaves the room, that he is serious. More serious than he’s ever been. Rafe doesn’t move for a moment, almost too nervous to take the first step. His legs feel like jelly, and he knows that if he doesn’t calm down soon, he might faint. He wants his dad to be proud of him so badly, that he’s ready to work himself to the bone. His dad has never so much as given him a nod of approval before and he would be lying if he said it wasn’t something he craved. He yearned for the day when his dad would smile at him, telling Rafe he was proud of him.

But that day was not today, and Rafe knew he had to get over it. One day, it may happen, but he had to push all that down for tonight. Tonight, was a night to support Rose and all the hard work that went into planning a celebration like this. So, Rafe began to walk towards the door of his dad’s study, trying to forget about the conversation he just had with his dad.

As he exited the study, he straightened his collar. He felt very uncomfortable in such a fancy suit, but he tried to focus on the afterparty, something he was a little more excited for. Sure, Y/N was going but he knew JJ was jealous and would try to keep them apart all evening. All he had to do was tolerate her now and on the way to the hall and after that, he would not have to think of her for the rest of the night.

Unfortunately, things never go Rafe’s way. The second he walked outside, he felt as though the wind had been knocked out of him. Rose was taking pictures of everyone in their front garden, mentioning to Rafe before that her tulips would look great as a background piece. He had figured that since no one seemed to be in the house, they were all outside. He was right, but at what cost? Well, the cost was his sanity.

She stood there as if it was another normal day. As if she dressed like that every day. Rafe was utterly speechless. How could she be doing something as mundane as talking to Sarah but look so stunning? This was the first time he envied JJ Maybank. Although Rafe had everything a guy could ask for, JJ got the ultimate prize; he got to escort Y/N to the Midsummer festival. He got to intertwine their hands and show her off. He was the one who could dance with her and hold her and tell her how breathtaking she looked. All Rafe could do was watch (more like stare) and pretend to not notice the most beautiful woman in the room.

He hesitated for a moment. His eyes were trained on her dress instead of her face, fearing he would blush too much and make his attraction toward her obvious. Unfortunately, looking at her dress didn’t help. The fabric blew in the wind, enhancing the silhouette of her body. Ultimately, Rafe just looked away. Every moment he looked at her was another moment he was reminded that she was not his.

“Rafe!” Rose called, watching as Rafe stood away from the group. His head was down and only when she called did, he turns it up slightly. “Come over here and take some pictures!”

Rafe nodded, realizing her eyes were probably on him now. He gulped nervously. “O-okay.”

Rose frowned, confused at Rafe’s shy behaviour. She looked to Ward, who was typing something on his phone. She knew how rocky Ward and Rafe’s relationship was and knew that whenever they entered Ward’s study, Rafe would come out a meek boy. She figured Ward had done something again to hurt Rafe. Although this was true, it was not the real reason Rafe was acting so shy.

“What did you say to him?” Rose whispered to Ward once his phone was tucked away.

Ward rolled his eyes. “He needs some tough love, that boy.”

Rose was fuming but tried to keep her cool. Just for this one night. “I swear Ward, this is my day. Do not ruin it.”

Ward smirked, leaning down to kiss his wife on her cheek. “Of course, not darling. Everything will go your way tonight.”

If only they knew what was to come.

JJ Maybank was nervous. He swears, before he met Y/N, he was never an anxious person. Now he seemed to be panicking all the time. He knew it was because of Y/N. She was one of the best parts of his life right now and JJ had a dangerous pattern of ruining all the good things in his life. He knew it was because he was always scared of losing someone or something so special to him and never recovering. This was especially true with Y/N. Although they were not official, they had hung out basically every day since they met, and JJ’s feelings had become clear. He wanted to be her boyfriend.

And tonight, if everything went well, he would ask Y/N to be his girlfriend. He had never moved this slow with a girl before, but he was willing to try. He didn’t want to scare her off, so he played it safe.

Except, for right now. Agreeing to go to the Midsummer festival was probably the least safe thing JJ could do. He was not accepted by the Kooks, his reputation preceding him. He was rarely on his best behaviour when Kooks were involved so he was very nervous that he would somehow ruin the evening for Y/N. He could tell she had been excited for this festival, and he was sure that if he ruined the night for her, she would never want to be with him. So, with a deep breath, JJ promised himself that no matter what, he’d be on his best behaviour.

And then he saw Y/N exit Ward Cameron’s car.

She stood out like a sore thumb. None of the other girls could compare to her. JJ felt time freeze for a moment as he looked at the most beautiful girl in the world. Her white dress fitted her perfectly, it was as if it was made for her. Her hair made her look ethereal, like a fairy glowing in the dimming light. The festival was supposed to start right as the sun set so many people were already using flashlights so they could see the path to the entrance of the hall but not JJ. Y/N was his flashlight, illuminating not only herself but his entire life.

Once their eyes met, it was fireworks. JJ felt his heart skip a beat, the reality of her beauty setting in. He didn’t have to smile at her, he’d been smiling since she stepped out of the car. When she registered that it was JJ who was wearing the goofy grin, she smiled right back.

Although JJ thought Y/N looked beautiful, Y/N thought JJ looked handsome. He wore a black button up with black blazer and slacks. The collar of his shirt was embroidered with white flowers and lace, seeming to match Y/N without knowing. The usual messy hair look he wore so well was brushed back and styled. All the dirt and grime on his face was gone. It was like looking at a new JJ. A JJ that Y/N never thought she would get to see.

Once she’s an arm’s length away, JJ’s arms stretch out towards her, and she gladly accepts the hug. They both seem excited but nervous to be here. Even though Y/N is technically a Kook, she feels out of place. She knows that everyone is looking at her with disdain; knowing her family is from new money. Everyone except JJ and Sarah.

“You look beautiful.” JJ remarks as they pull away from each other.

“Thanks, J. You don’t look so bad yourself.” Y/N blushes, looping her arm around JJ. “Where’d you get that suit?”

JJ smirked. “Sarah lent it to me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, glancing at Sarah. She was being escorted inside by John B. Y/N reminded herself to thank Sarah again. The festival is starting and every woman with a date is being escorted in now. “Shall we?”

JJ nods, tilting his chin up higher. “Yes, m’lady.”

Whatever image Y/N had in her mind of how the DeClaire Hall would look quickly vanished once they were inside. Large, tall marble pillars stood tall in every corner of the room. They were white, reflecting off the marble walls and vinyl floors. The middle of the hall was empty, only a few couples dancing to the melody of a violin playing. The tables were scattered along the outer part of the hall, decorated with white linen and golden embellishments. Both Y/N and JJ were astonished that Rose pulled it off. It was as if Y/N and JJ had been transported to the regency time period, watching in awe as every person seemed to be playing a character. The women wore long, bright dresses while the men were styled in fitted but elegant suits. Sarah was right; Rose really did go all out for this celebration.

“Woah.” JJ gasped. He had never seen something like this before. Although he was in awe, he was still a little bitter. The Kooks had all this money to spend on a festival that didn’t really matter but couldn’t donate some money to fix up JJ’s school or help out the dirt poor Pogues? He was bitter at the thought of all these Kooks enjoying themselves while his friends like Kie and Pope sat at home.

Y/N nodded; her eyes trained on Rafe. She couldn’t help herself. She wished he didn’t look so good but there he was, standing 20 feet away and looking like a dream. “Yeah, woah is right.”

Before any more words could be exchanged, the soft music stopped, and Rose entered the dance floor. She stood tall, the train of her yellow dress trailing behind her. “Hello everyone!” She had begun to speak but instead of her normal voice, she pretended to put on an English accent. “Thank you for coming to the ninety fifth anniversary of the Midsummer festival!”

Y/N snickered, leaning towards JJ’s ear. “This can’t be real.”

JJ smirked at her, his voice lowering. “We call them Kooks for a reason.”

“Shortly, the festivities will commence but before then, let us go over some ground rules.” Rose paused for a moment, waiting until everyone quieted down. “Firstly, young ladies will not stand up for more than two consecutive dances with the same partner. Secondly, there will be no vulgarity of any sort. And lastly, have a wondrous time!” The last sentence was spoken in her own words, the English accent no longer present in her voice.

Everyone seemed to cheer, some even clinking their champagne glasses together. The music began again, a soft melody flowing throughout the hall. Although everyone else seemed to be taking this seriously, waltzing with their partner and speaking in an English accent, Y/N and JJ were not.

JJ bowed, a goofy grin on his face. “M’lady, would you care to dance?” His southern accent was hard to disguise, even under a fake and terrible English accent.

Y/N giggled, curtsying slightly. “Why, of course!” Her hands rested in JJ’s as he led her to the middle of the hall. With anyone else, she would feel embarrassed, but it was so fun being with JJ that she didn’t care what other people thought of her.

As they pushed past crowds of Kooks, all dressed up in the finest clothing she ever saw, JJ leaned down, his breath fanning against her neck. “This has to be the stupidest shit I’ve ever done.”

Y/N smirked, looking up at him. Their lips were inches apart and she had the sudden urge to kiss him. “That can’t be true.”

JJ pouted, finally finding an open spot for them to sway to the music. He twirled Y/N around, watching in awe as her smile only grew wider. He swore he could watch her like this all day. “You’re right, it’s not.” He knew the stupidest thing he’d ever done was not kiss her sooner.

Y/N grew nervous, unsure of how to actually dance with a partner. She had never done this before. Thankfully, JJ did not hesitate like she did. She watched as he carefully placed one hand on her waist as the other clasped onto her hand. She let her other hand fall to the side, unsure of what to do next.

She looked up at JJ sheepishly. “How do I do this?” There was an awkward giggle at the end as Y/N tried to hide behind her embarrassment.

JJ smirked, his hand leaving her waist for a moment and guiding her limp arm to his shoulder. “Hold me.” Once his hand returned to her waist, he pulled her body closer to him. He could feel the warmth of her chest against his which only made his heartbeat faster. They had never been this close. Never touched each other in such a delicate way.

Soon, the two of them swayed to the music, a lovestruck grin on both of their faces. Y/N wished she could capture this moment forever. She was sure no one else had ever made her feel like this. She felt so protected. So secure. She knew that if she could, she’d choose to be in JJ’s arms forever. She was the happiest she could ever be as she danced with JJ, swaying to a song about unrequited love.

But, about twenty feet away in the corner of the room, Rafe enviously watched as the girl he wanted most danced with another man.

The first two hours of the Midsummer festival went marvellous. Y/N and JJ seemed to be attached at the hip, dancing, drinking, and laughing together the entire time. It seemed that all the nerves the two of them had at the beginning of the night dwindled down when they were with each other and had a few drinks. For Y/N, the best part was she had not run into Rafe once. He had been on the other side of the hall all night, drinking with his friends and dancing with a few girls. And although Y/N convinced herself that she was not watching him, she couldn’t help but feel a tad envious seeing Rafe dance with a couple girls.

The rules that Rose spoke about at the beginning of the night were more serious than Y/N and JJ initially thought. They thought it was all for show, just another way for the night to feel more realistic. But in reality, Rose would not let women dance with the same man consecutively. It was odd the first time she caught JJ and Y/N dancing, both of them ready to lie just so they could dance together again, but Rose shooed them away, telling them to wait for the next song to come on before they danced together again.

After the fourth time of Y/N and JJ trying to sneak past Rose and being caught red handed, they decided to just wait it out. How long could one song be?

“JJ,” Y/N cooed, sitting down at their table. They were seated with Sarah and John B at table two while Rose, Ward, and their friends were seated at table one. “Can you get me a glass of water?”

JJ smirked, crouched down to meet Y/N’s eyeline. “I’ve worn you out already?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, a devious glint in her eyes. “I’m sorry I don’t have the stamina to drink and dance for two hours.”

JJ shrugged, standing up again. “Fine, but you owe me a dance after. That line is so long and I’m gonna have to make conversation with those snooty PTA moms.”

Y/N giggled. “Well, if you come back with a cold glass of water, I’ll do more than dance with you.”

It was supposed to be a teasing comment and it was, but there was a serious undertone to the way she talked. She had waited too long to kiss JJ. If he could just stop being a gentleman for one moment.

JJ’s back straightened, his brows raised. He slightly nods, as if he’s tipping his nonexistent hat in her direction. “I’ll be right back.”

Y/N watches in amusement as JJ scurries across the hall, impatiently waiting in the long ass line. Y/N sighs, thinking she’ll be able to relax for a moment. Although she loves dancing with JJ, she needs to rest her feet. Unfortunately, before she can properly rest, Sarah and John B rush towards her.

“What did you say to JJ that got him so riled up? That man basically ran to the bar.” John B jokes, glancing at his friend. Some of the PTA moms began talking to JJ and he watches as his friend uncomfortably tries to make conversation.

“Nothing. I’m just waiting until we can dance again.” Y/N smirks, watching JJ from across the hall as well.

“But the waltz is on next, and JJ won’t be back in time!” Sarah frowns, glancing at JJ before her gaze returns to Y/N.

Y/N shrugs. She knew her and Sarah promised to dance the waltz together with their partners, but Y/N wasn’t too worried. She figured the waltz would be played many times that night and they’d dance it next time it came on. She tried to reassure Sarah by saying so, but Sarah only frowned deeper.

“No, I’m leaving in, like, twenty minutes. Rafe and I have to start setting everything up at our house for the afterparty. It starts in an hour.” Sarah groaned.

Y/N frowned, now a little upset as well that they wouldn’t be able to fulfill their promise. “I’m sorry. I wish I could dance with you guys; I do.”

It seemed that the second those words left Y/N’s mouth, Sarah’s eyes lit up and she was no longer frowning. “Maybe you can.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “JJ’s not leaving that line now. I promised him something if he got me some water.”

Sarah giggled, instantly knowing what Y/N was implying. “No, silly. Not JJ. Someone else.” But before Y/N could ask her who she had in mind, Sarah dashed off, disappearing into the crowd of people gathered on the other side of the hall.

Y/N looked to John B, getting up from her seat. Her feet didn’t hurt as much anymore, the little rest she took had helped a lot. “What’s she up to?”

John B shrugged, a smug grin on his lips. “I never know.”

Y/N giggled at John B’s little remark because it was so true. Sarah was a very creative person and someone Y/N could go to whenever she was having a problem. Sarah always came up with the best solutions.

Except for now. Sarah was Y/N’s best friend in OBX but, when she emerged from the crowd tugging on the sleeve of a familiar face, Y/N wished Sarah didn’t have these creative plans. The person she was dragging along was Rafe. She had somehow looped Rafe into this. The last person Y/N wanted to see tonight. He looked confused and it was clear to Y/N that Sarah had not let Rafe in on her plan. This comforted her a little; knowing Rafe would be just as mortified.

When they reached about six feet away from Y/N and John B, Rafe finally understood what was about to happen. Y/N was right, he looked mortified. Rafe didn’t feel as though mortified was the right word. Humiliated. Nauseous. Literally any word that would describe how shitty he felt the second his eyes met Y/N’s.

He tried to run away; he really did. He stopped walking the second he realized what was going on. Sarah was only tugging on him because he let her. If he really wanted to, he could overpower her in seconds. And that’s what he did. He stopped in his tracks, refusing to move even as Sarah pulled harder on his sleeve.

“C’mon, she’s, my friend.” Sarah pleaded, her grasp on Rafe tightening.

Rafe shook his head, glancing Y/N’s way once more. He quickly grew embarrassed that her eyes were still on him and immediately looked back to Sarah. “Well, she’s not my friend.”

Sarah sighed, her lips in a deep pout. “Whatever weird energy you have for her, swallow it. Just for one dance.”

Rafe wanted to argue. He wanted to say that they shared no weird energy. That he just didn’t care for that hippie. But his sister knew him too well and although she might not have noticed his feelings for Y/N fully, she did register some tension between them. Rafe hated lying to his sister so, with a deep breath and a quick roll of his eyes, he agreed. It was just one dance. What’s the worst that could happen?

Y/N, on the other hand, was less flexible than Rafe. The second Sarah was close enough to hear, Y/N voiced her disdain. Which was bold since Rafe was standing in front of her.

“No way. I’m not getting a pity dance from your brother.”

Rafe scoffed, rolling his eyes for what seemed like the tenth time tonight. “A thank you would suffice.”

Y/N shook her head. “Oh, a thank you?” She repeated, her blood boiling. How could someone be so attractive yet so annoying at the same time. “How about this as a thank you?” Without even thinking, Y/N raised her hand and stuck her middle finger in the air defiantly.

Y/N’s anger only made him cockier. Call Rafe a coward all you want but he was damn good at hiding behind anger to protect his own feelings. “Not very ladylike, is it? Especially in this time period.”

“You know what is appropriate in this time period though?” Y/N grumbled. “The guillotine.”

Before Rafe could come up with an intelligent rebuttal, John B cut through the tension by stepping in between the two of them. It was getting pretty heated, and John B was sure Y/N was about to punch him. “Hey guys! The waltz should be on any minute so can we please put a pin in this and just have a fun time?”

Y/N stared at Rafe, her heart fluttering a little at how rosy his cheeks had gotten during their conversation. Although he had said such terrible things, somehow, she knew he had not meant any of it. So, with a steady breath, she outstretched her hand. She had a tiny smile on her lips and this time, it wasn’t forced.

“I’m willing to put it aside if you’re willing to dance with me.”

Rafe gulped, looking at her outstretched hand and gingerly taking it. “Fine.” It was all he could muster out. He was so nervous, and it didn’t help that this was the first time they had touched. She had always felt so far away from him and now their hands were intertwined. Her skin felt soft against his and he swore he felt a buzz of electricity course through him the second their hands touched.

Y/N could feel it too. She tried to ignore it, blaming it on static electricity or anything else. She would blame it on the wind before she would conclude that there was some part of her that was drawn to Rafe Cameron. They both stayed speechless and even as they approached the middle of the hall where everyone was dancing, they barely made an effort to look at each other. Everything felt so tense the second their hands touched.

Finally, the music died down for a moment. The waltz was the next song and Y/N prepared herself mentally. No matter what her brain told her, she did not feel anything for Rafe. She liked JJ. But as the music began and Rafe made the first move, she was not so sure. His hands were gentle but hesitant, scared to place his hand on her hip. They were in each other’s space. Y/N had never been this close to him. She breathed in through her nose, smelling his wonderful cologne.

“You’re gonna have to hold me, you know that right?” Her tone comes off as sarcastic because it’s the only one she’s familiar with around Rafe.

Rafe rolls his eyes. “Uh, yeah. I know.” He places one hand on Y/N’s hip, swallowing harshly before reaching out with his other hand and holding onto her hand. Their thumbs are intertwined, a small gesture that causes Rafe’s stomach to stir.

When the music starts, it’s soft and low at first and Y/N expects them to just sway. She had really only been swaying when she danced with JJ since they both weren’t sure how to formally dance. But Rafe had been to enough of these festivals to know how to lead a girl through a dance. So, as the music’s pace began to grow, Rafe led Y/N across the floor. Their feet seemed to be at the same pace, quietly shuffling like everyone else. He wasn’t going too fast like Y/N expected and she was grateful for it. But she was nervous nonetheless and looked to her feet so she wouldn’t accidentally step on Rafe’s toes.

Rafe chuckled at Y/N’s nervousness. He couldn’t stop thinking that she was so cute. “You have to look at your partner when you’re dancing with them.” The tone was more teasing than he wanted it to be.

Y/N looked up, blushing at her naivety. “Um, I’m afraid I’m gonna fall.”

She was being vulnerable with him. Sure, it was a very small step, but it was a step forward, nonetheless. Rafe beamed, endeared at her bashfulness. She had never been this way with him. He was taking her out of her comfort zone. “I promise you won’t step on my toes. And if you do, I won’t mind.”

Y/N gives Rafe a bashful smile. She’s looking at him while they dance now, never breaking eye contact. But Rafe is the bashful one now and continuously finds himself looking away. He’s so nervous. She’s looking at him. She’s really looking at him. He has to wonder; does she like what she sees?

“Now look at who's not focusing on their partner.” Y/N’s tone is teasing, and he can’t help but blush.

Rafe says the first thing that comes to his head. “It’s hard to look at someone so beautiful and not blush.”

This only makes the two of them blush more. Y/N wants to tell Rafe she thinks he’s beautiful too. She wants to ask him how they could be mean to each other one moment and all bashful the next. She wants to ask him if he’s ever felt like this with anyone else. She wants to know how he feels. But before she gets a chance to do any of that, they’re pulled apart.

JJ was going to let it go. He was going to just wait in that stupid line and get her a glass of water. He even wasn’t going to complain that Rafe and Y/N were dancing even though he was sure he would burst from jealousy. He convinced himself that Y/N was probably just trying to be polite and Rafe was the one to blame. But when he saw that Rafe had made her smile like that, a smile he had never seen her use, his blood boiled and all he saw was red. He left the line, not even saying goodbye to those snobby PTA moms, and bolted to the centre of the room where they were dancing. He knew that pulling Rafe by the collar would cause a scene. And he knew he promised himself that he was going to be on his best behaviour, but he couldn’t help himself. Rafe was not about to take the only good thing in his life right now. He cared so deeply for Y/N, and he wasn’t gonna let Rafe Cameron, of all people, ruin it. So, he did the only thing he knew; he used his fists.

Rafe choked on his collar as JJ pulled him off of Y/N. He fell backwards, a surprised gasp leaving his lips before his back hit the ground. Before Rafe could even defend himself, JJ was on top of the poor boy and punching him. The only thing Rafe could do was shield his face as JJ tried his best to punch Rafe.

Y/N was mortified. She could not believe this was happening. She had never seen JJ so angry, let alone at Rafe. Sure, JJ wasn’t the biggest fan of Kooks but to fist fight one? Besides, she couldn’t remember a time when JJ mentioned such disdain for Rafe. But that didn’t matter now. She needed to intervene.

“JJ! Stop!” She tried yelling, her voice piercing through the air. The music had stopped, and many people had begun congregating around them to see what all the fuss was about. It was no use though, even Y/N’s yelling did not stop JJ.

The only thing that stopped JJ was John B. As JJ threw his fifth punch, John B approached JJ and pulled him away from Rafe. JJ fought against John B, trying to free himself from his friend’s grasp but it was no use. John B held him in a way that was difficult for JJ to get out of.

“Let me go, bro!” JJ continued to struggle as John B’s grasp, unaware that all eyes were on him.

“Dude, stop!” John B tightened his grip on JJ.

JJ finally stopped struggling, noticing that the room got very quiet. Suddenly, his actions came rushing to him and he realized the mistake he made. When John B felt JJ relax, he finally let go. He was unsure what his friend would do but he knew he had to be there just in case.

Everyone was looking at JJ, their judgemental stares burning holes onto his skin. He felt so exposed, so embarrassed that strangers had seen him like that. But he was more worried about Y/N. He knew he made a mistake and wasn’t sure how she’d react. Knowing her, it wasn’t going to be good.

And when he looked at her, her eyes brimming with tears, he knew he had fucked up big time. She was standing off to the side, standing beside Sarah who was trying to comfort her. JJ took a few steps towards her, his face pale.

“Y/N…” JJ began, the look on his face saying it all.

But Y/N didn’t care. She just wanted one perfect night. She had never seen this side of JJ but now that she had, she was afraid. She shook her head, backing away from him. “No, leave me alone.” And with that, she turned on her heels and walked farther and farther away from him.

Sarah stood there for a moment longer, dumbfounded. “JJ, I think you need to give her some space right now.”

JJ wanted to cry. Although he was embarrassed, it didn’t matter now. He had just ruined the only good thing in his life. The dangerous pattern had finally caught up to him.

taglist: @tovvaa @canyoubuymetoast @multisimpinghoe @devcarlsons @pogueslandia @theywantedplayer @lovelyxtom @milkywqze

#jj x you #jj x reader #jj one shot #jj fic #jj fanfiction #jj maybank #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fic #rafe x reader #rafe fluff #rafe imagine #rafe cameron obx #obx kiara #outerbanks #outer banks fic #obx s2 #rafe cameron

168 notes · View notes

sunmoonandeddie · 4 years

Text

apartment 4d

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 2,621

summary: There’s nothing Bucky loves more than the widow down the hall and her son.

warnings: Tiny bit of angst and some cussing. Mostly fluff.

a/n: Thank you so much to @indyluckycharlie for commissioning this! I hope you enjoy!

Bucky Barnes was a simple man. He loved his family, Steve, his apartment, and you.

You, the pretty widow. You and your son, Eugene, lived in 4D, right down from where he lived in 4A. After your husband had died in the war, you’d been forced to move since you couldn’t afford the nice house you once had.

And maybe he’s sick. He’s gotta be, considering the fact that you had lost your husband in the same war that he’d been fighting in, that he’d lost his arm in and almost his sanity with it. He’s gotta be sick, right?

Because otherwise he wouldn’t dream of coming home to you and Eugene, of sweetly kissing your cheek. He wouldn’t want to teach Eugene how to tie his shoes and shave his face when the time came.

Speaking of.

A grin spread over his lips as he came up the stairs and saw you trying to unlock your front door while also holding your baby boy on one hip and your groceries in the other. Your son, clad in a cute little outfit that looked almost like a sailor’s uniform, whined as he tugged at your hair.

“Baby,” you cooed, wincing as you tried to not get upset. It had been a really rough day and him pulling your hair was just making it a little harder since you were trying to open the door. “Please don’t pull Mama’s hair.”

“Hey, you want some help?” Bucky called out from the top of the stairs, his hand still holding onto the rail.

His voice breaking the silence startled you, judging by the way that you jumped and dropped your keys. “Oh, uh… That’d be lovely. Thank you,” you said, giving him an exasperated smile as he came over and grabbed them from the ground.

“Here, let me help,” He said after opening the door. He grabbed some of your groceries, though he couldn’t take all of it since he’d left his experimental prosthetic at home. Howard was still tweaking the design since it hurt if he kept it on too long.

“Thank you,” you breathed out as you managed to get inside and you set Eugene on the floor with a few of his toys. “Today has just been a nightmare. Eugene gets overwhelmed so easily and the supermarket was horrifically packed…” A snort. “I’m sorry. I’m rambling. You probably have things better to do than listening to me complain.”

But there was almost nothing that Bucky would love more than to listen to you complain about literally anything for the rest of his life. “No! No, don’t worry,” he insisted as he stepped towards you. “I don’t mind…”

Your eyes felt hot as you tried to fight tears, your cheeks flushed. “Sorry… I hate crying…” God. Here you were, crying in front of a man you hardly knew.

“You really don’t have to keep apologizing,” he insisted as he set the groceries he was holding on the kitchen counter.

The dark green countertop was a stark contrast to the white wood of the cabinets and a compliment to the soft green walls. It wasn’t light enough to be mint, but not dark enough to be forest. He could see the care that you clearly put into your home just from the kitchen, considering the fresh greenery that framed the circular window, a potted plant sitting on the sill.

Eugene was talking animatedly to his toys in the living room, completely unaware of their conversation in the kitchen.

Somehow, even with the nightmare you had claimed to be through, you still looked absolutely stunning. There was a stain from what he suspected might’ve been Eugene’s lunch on your chest, and the victory rolls in your curls were starting to fall. Your fiery red lipstick was a little smudged in the corner, and before he could even stop to think, he reached across the counter top and gently wiped it away.

“There,” he breathed out, his voice barely audible. There was a sparkle in the depths of your eyes that he wanted to capture and hold onto forever. A kiss at the corner of your lips.

And he didn’t deserve such sweet things. Not after everything he’d done.

He couldn’t stain you red with his sin, put a traitor’s ring on your finger.

“Thank you,” you breathed out, your eyes locked on his.

And it was like he suddenly forgot his own argument.

He’d fall to his knees at the altar of your love and beg for forgiveness. He’d repent until he was repenting his own name and etching yours into his heart.

“Mama?”

And your son. He’d do everything he could to love him and show him what a real man was if you’d let him.

If you’d let him love the both of you.

“Yes, my love?” you asked as you scooped him up and placed him on the counter.

The spell between you two hadn’t been broken, just… momentarily suspended. There was still the magic that came from a moment clinging to the air. The domesticity of it all was so apparent as your eyes met his for just a second.

“Can Mr. Bucky stay for dinner?” He asked, tripping and stumbling over his words like any toddler would.

A honey sweet smile spread over your lips as you looked up at him. “Well? Can Mr. Bucky stay for dinner?” You asked.

And he did. He stayed for dinner. And then stayed for dinner the next night and the next.

Bucky stayed for dinner seventy-two times before you invited him to stay the night.

You two had shared a lot in the last few months. You’d completely fallen for him, somehow letting all your walls down.

The sheets softly rustled as you climbed into bed, your heart pounding. You’d made sure to wash them that same morning, wanting them to be fresh for when he came over.

Your nicest nightgown, a shift made of soft blue silk, slid against your skin as you peered up at him, watching as he slowly undid his shirt. The metal of his prosthetic gleamed in the soft light coming from your bedside lamp. Warm orange light lit up his face and made him look like some sort of Donatello sculpture.

“Um… This isn’t too pretty, so I understand if you don’t wanna look,” he said, his hands visibly shaking.

“I can handle it,” you insisted, inhaling sharply when he let his shirt fall from his shoulders.

The left side of his chest was a spider web of pink scar tissue. It stretched halfway across his chest and almost down to the waist of his pants.

Bucky grimaced as he reached up with his flesh hand and undid his prosthetic, biting his lip to keep from crying out. It disconnected, and he carefully set it to the side. What was left of his arm was even more scarred up, though it had clearly been operated on to make it easier for the prosthetic to be attached. “I told you it’s not pretty,” Bucky grunted.

But you simply opened up the blankets for him to crawl in, watching as he toed off his shoes before letting his pants fall to the ground. “All of you is pretty, James,” you murmured as he climbed in beside you. Your hand found his cheek, your thumb running over the soft skin. He’d recently shaved and the stubble had yet to grow back.

“Not as pretty as you, darling,” He said as he wrapped his arm around you to pull you to his chest. His lips pressed to yours in a happy sigh, your foot running up his leg.

“James?”

“Mmhm?”

“I was thinking…”

He was still kissing you, though his lips had migrated from yours and were giving attention to your cheeks and your neck. “Yeah, baby doll? ‘Bout what?”

“Halloween is coming up…”

A kiss to your chest.

“Yeah…”

His hand sliding up your thigh.

“And I was thinking…”

His nose nudging against your collarbone.

“Mmm…”

His thigh moving between yours.

“What if you came trick-or-treating with Eugene and me?” You asked, flustered beyond belief. Bucky and you had started getting frisky a few weeks after you met—it wasn’t like you were a blushing virgin, after all—but he still managed to get you all worked up in a matter of seconds.

He leaned back, his blue eyes wide. “Really? You’d want that?” He asked curiously. “But… But we haven’t told him that we’re… you know.”

“I know,” you said reassuringly as your fingers ran through his shortly cropped hair. “But… I want to tell him.” You kissed his forehead, your leg hooking over his waist. “My… My husband wasn’t a kind man. He didn’t hit me or anything like that, but… He wasn’t good. I didn’t know men could be good until you came along.” Tears pricked your eyes as you cupped his cheek, letting his head rest against your chest. “I want you. And I want Eugene to know what a good man is. I want him to be a good man like you.”

He nodded, sniffling as he nuzzled further into your neck. “I want you. And I want him. I wanna be your family. Your husband.”

“Let’s start with trick-or-treating.”

It was a few weeks until Halloween, but Bucky went all out. He got his mom, Winnifred, to make the three of you matching outfits, making you look like a scarecrow family.

“Thank you for doing this,” you said softly to the older woman as she helped you get Eugene into his costume.

“I can’t think of anything else I’d rather be doing,” she insisted quietly, taking a deep breath. “You know… They told me he was dead. I got a telegram telling me that my son was dead because he fell from a train.” Her blue eyes, so much like Bucky’s, were already glassy with tears. “And then one day… He just wasn’t dead anymore. He was on my doorstep with nothing but the clothes on his back and one arm less than when he’d left.”

Your heart ached for her, for the mourning she had done and the grief that still clearly lingered in her heart. “I only got a telegram, too,” you said after a few minutes, letting her do your hair. “When they told me my husband died… I just got a telegram. And the last thing…” You coughed to clear your throat. “The last thing I said to him before he left was if he signed up to go fight in a war while leaving me at home pregnant, then he wouldn’t have a home to come back to.”

“We all say things we don’t mean,” Winnifred said kindly, her calloused fingers gently twisting your hair into an updo. She placed little pieces of hay here and there to match your costume. “And I’m sure he knew you didn’t mean it.”

Your eyes drifted to the living room, where Bucky was sitting with Eugene on his lap as he read to him, already in his costume. “I’m lucky to have Bucky.”

“He’s lucky to have you, too,” Winnifred said with a smile. “I hadn’t seen him smile or laugh in months… and then all of a sudden he’s coming over for Sunday dinner and talking about some girl he met that lives down the hall…” She took a step back, finishing up. “There. You’re all done and ready to go.”

It was rather chilly outside, but you weren’t really paying attention to the weather. Your heart was too warm from watching Bucky walk with Eugene, hand in hand as he helped him go to each house to get his candy. His sweet little, “Twick or tweat!” made you grin every time.

You didn’t get back to your apartment until almost ten at night, and it was way past his bedtime. Giving him a bath was an adventure as you both worked to get him all cleaned up in a mess of splashing water and bubbles. Eugene found it hilarious to try to get the both of you as wet as possible, his cheeks flushed with delight.

“Okay, buddy. Story time, okay?” Bucky said as he tucked him in, the both of you sitting on either side of him. “You get one book and then you gotta go to bed. It’s real late.”

Eugene nodded, his eyes starting to droop. Now that the rush had faded, he was quickly becoming more and more sleepy. You gave it about five minutes before he was out like a light.

“The Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams,” Bucky said softly. “There was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid. He was fat and bunchy, as a rabbit should be; his coat was spotted brown and white. He had real thread whiskers, and his ears were lined with pink sateen. On Christmas morning, when he sat wedged in the top of the Boy's stocking, with a sprig of holly between his paws, the effect was charming.”

Your eyes were soft as you watched him, your fingers scratching your son’s scalp as he listened as intently as he could. What had you done to deserve Bucky? What God had you pleased so much that he deigned you worthy of his presence?

His voice was like deep velvet as he continued to read, smooth as molasses. And if you weren’t careful, you were sure to fall asleep just like your son was.

“One evening, when the Boy was going to bed, he couldn't find the china dog that always slept with him. Nana was in a hurry, and it was too much trouble to hunt for china dogs at bedtime, so she simply looked about her, and seeing that the toy cupboard door stood open, she made a swoop. ‘Here,’ she said, ‘take your old Bunny! He'll do to sleep with you!’ And

she dragged the Rabbit out by one ear, and put him into the Boy's arms.” Bucky grinned down at Eugene as he saw his eyes start to flutter shut, continuing to read, “That night, and for many nights after, the Velveteen Rabbit slept in the Boy's bed. At first he found it rather uncomfortable, for the Boy hugged him very tight, and sometimes he rolled over on him, and sometimes he pushed him so far under the pillow that the Rabbit could scarcely breathe. And he missed, too, those long moonlight hours in the nursery, when all the house was silent, and his talks with the Skin Horse. But very soon he grew to like it, for the Boy used to talk to him, and made nice tunnels for him under the bedclothes that he said were like the burrows the real rabbits lived in. And they had splendid games together, in whispers, when Nana had gone away to her supper and left the nightlight burning on the mantelpiece. And when the Boy dropped off to sleep, the Rabbit would snuggle down close under his little warm chin and dream, with the Boy's hands clasped close round him all night long.”

“I think he’s asleep,” you whispered as you looked up at him, having snuggled down in the bed. The moonlight lit up the room, giving a halo-like glow to everything around the two of you.

“I don’t mind,” he said, his arm sliding around both you and Eugene, bringing you two close as he continued to read.

You stayed awake for as long as you could, a faint smile on your lips.

"’Wasn't I Real before?’ asked the little Rabbit. ‘You were Real to the Boy,’ the Fairy said, ‘because he loved you. Now you shall be Real to everyone…’”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n

688 notes · View notes

lostinwildflowers · 3 years

Text

Night Skies and City Lights

Koshi Sugawara x Reader

Summary: Sugawara comes from a rich family, he owns lavish cars and houses, and can buy whatever he wants. When he is invited to an event in New York City, he wants to bring a date. What do you do when your best friend asks you to go with him?

Word Count: 8.0K (Yeah I’m sorry)

Warnings: wealthy!Suga, swearing, friends to lovers, pining, angst, two dum dums don’t realize they both like each other(omg please kiss already i stg), fluff of course :)

A/N: Here is my part of @bakugohoex (Ria)’s 3K follower event!!! I can’t say it enough, but congrats love! I hope y’all enjoy my first time writing for Suga bb :) Please let me know what y’all think in the comments or in my inbox please, this took a lot from me to jump of out my comfort zone. Love y’all! - Birch<3

Dividers were created by the lovely and wonderful @anlian-aishang :) (I totally didn’t get these made just for this fic LOL)

Also, this and this were my inspiration for their outfits :) (total credit to the artist of the drawing and creator of the dress.) Okay I’ll shut up now, please enjoy :)

The last bell of the day rang out loudly, and all through the hallways, you could hear the happy cheers and chatter of students on their way home for the weekend. Students bustle quickly out of your assigned classroom, and a chuckle leaves your lips at the horde of them that clutter around your door.

You are drawn out of your thoughts as you shut your notebook, realizing that you had to put all of your books in your locker for the weekend. You begin shoving binders and folders into your backpack as fast as you can as the teacher finishes putting the chairs up for the janitor to clean overnight.

As you zip your bag shut and toss it over your shoulder, an extra binder in your arms you call out, “Have a nice weekend, Mrs. Smith!” The older woman calls back a goodbye as you slip out of the door, striding down the halls toward your locker.

Your bag hits the ground next to your locker with a loud thump as you set the binder in your hands on top of your bag, turning back to your locker to enter the combination in. Footsteps down the hall pull your eyes away from the small dial as you pull the lever open swiftly.

Warm, brown eyes lock onto yours in an instant and a smile slides across your lips as you lunge toward the taller framed boy.

“SUGA!!! I thought you went home without me, you jerk,” you whine out as you wrap your arms around him. Large and muscular arms wrap around your waist, picking you up off the ground to spin you in a small circle.

You can feel Sugawara’s chest rise and fall from his soft chuckles and as he pulls away, he shoots you his signature sugary grin.

“Awe, did you really think I would leave you behind, Y/n?” he teases as you return to placing your binders in your locker. You roll your eyes in fake annoyance as you chide back at him, “Well you took your time getting here and the hallways are totally empty, so yeah.”

Suga leans against the locker next to yours, crossing his arms as he watches you struggle to place one of your textbooks on the top shelf. He leans forward quickly, grabbing it from your hands to place it above your head with ease.

“You really think I would let my best friend walk home on a Friday afternoon, all alone, with no one to protect her? Geeze Y/n, your expectations of me are very low,” he pouts as he looks away, brown eyes gleaming playfully as you pick up your bag in one hand, closing the locker with the other.

You shove him, bag slipping from your hands as you slam him against a locker. Laughs bubble out from the two of you, and you are so distracted by trying to catch your breath from all the giggles to notice that Suga has slung your bag over his shoulder and has tossed his arm around you, guiding you out of the building.

Casual conversation is held between the two of you as he walks you home. Suga talks about his classes and the status of his college applications. You talk about how you were so excited for the weekend because you finally got a break from classes and you got to sleep in the following morning.

It seemed to be too soon when you landed on the steps of your front door. Suga rubs the back of his head with a soft grin, offering your bag out with his opposite hand.

You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear and murmur, “Thanks Suga, I always appreciate it when you walk me home. I know you could always drive us, but the weather was so nice today and...”

A slight warmth hovers over your cheeks as your words trail off and you shrug as you grab your bag from him. You look down at your feet before mumbling out, “and I guess I like spending time with you outside of class and stuff.”

Suga lays a hand on your shoulder, causing you to look up at him quickly. His head tilts softly, like how he does, and chuckles, “Well I enjoy it too, Y/n! This is what best friends do, so you can count on me!” With his last words, his thumb juts toward himself and he gives you another one of his classic smiles.

You can feel a slight drop in your mood at his words. This is what best friends do. The silver-haired boy in front of you had been your best friend for years, but now he’s in high school and he’s not the same little kid he used to be.

He was thick with muscle from playing volleyball, and he was devastatingly handsome. Suga’s concerned face suddenly has you focusing back in as the hand he rested on your shoulder moves to cup your face softly.

“Are you alright, Y/n? You looked kinda dizzy there for a second, do I need to walk you in-” “I’m okay,” you chirp out as your (colored) eyes widen. Suga flinches at your words before pulling away from you, tucking his hands into his pockets.

You immediately feel bad for slightly snapping at him, he was always just trying to help. “I promise I’m good, Suga,” you say more gently, “I was just lost in thought there for a second.”

He gives you a nod and then a look of thought travels across his face. Suga opens his mouth to say something, but your front door opens to your mom’s voice, and you turn away from him before he gets the chance to speak.

“Hi mum,” you call as you wave to her. Suga doesn’t say anything but just lifts a hand to wave at her as he starts to back up. “Hey, Y/n, I gotta go home, I’ll text you, yeah?” he says softly as he turns away.

You nod over your shoulder as Suga fully turns around, too quick for you to see the blush on his cheeks and the embarrassed look on his face. He curses under his breath as he walks away from your house and down the sidewalk.

You were his best friend, so why the hell was it becoming so hard to talk to you?

The following week was difficult for Suga after his failed attempt to ask you his lingering question. He had been invited to New York City for an event by his coach, Keishin Ukai.

All of his friends were going with their girlfriends and significant others, and he didn’t want to show up alone. Suga didn’t really bother to listen to what the event was about, but he knew it was supposed to be a black-tie affair.

There were two reasons why he was struggling to ask you to go with him. The first reason, although selfish and a daydream, was every time he would go to ask you, all he could picture was the way you would look in a floor-length dress like that. Would you want to wear purple or blue? Maybe even an emerald green?

Just the thought of you looking so ravishing on his arm had his tongue-tied and all rational thought leave his head. His second reason was a bit selfish too, and it was because it was you.

You were his best friend. You were more than his best friend. You were his person, the one who he loved and enjoyed more than anyone else. Yeah, he had the biggest and sweetest crush on you, and no way to tell you.

How couldn’t he love you? You were absolutely stunning, you had an amazing sense of humor with a perfect midnight laugh. You were so, so kind to others, and the soft touches on the shoulder and friendly hugs were more than enough to make his heart skip in his chest.

So, when he acted slightly weird around you after that day he walked you home, you began to worry that you had done or said something to push him away. You didn’t want there to be tension between the two of you, you guys were best friends!

You both were currently sitting in Suga’s personal library after school hours, books sprawled out in front of you as you studied for your upcoming tests. Suga sat in front of you, glasses perched on his nose as he read from a small journal, taking small notes every few seconds.

On the other hand, you were furiously doing math homework, sketching out curves of complex equations, and typing things aggressively into your calculator. Suga glances up at you in concern when you let out a huff after loud clacking into your calculator.

“Everything alright, Y/n? What did that poor calculator do to you?” he chuckles lightly, setting his journal down and lightly stretching, leaning his palm against his face as he gives you his full attention.

You look up from your calculator a little wildly, a flush covering your cheeks as you register Suga’s words and his brown eyes on you. You push the calculator away from you as you murmur, “I just… I really don’t like math.”

Suga nods knowingly and takes a closer look at what you were trying to do. “Yeah, I don’t want any of that,” he laughs out with a disgusted look on his face.

You pout and cross your arms, giving Suga the best puppy eyes that you could. “Pleaseeee, Suga? You are so good at math, you took this class a whole year early!”

Suga just rolls his eyes before scooting over to your side, one arm resting on the back of your chair as his eyes flicked over the problem. You tried to focus on the small corrections he was giving you, something about concavity and zeros on the graph.

It was difficult to think about math when your really, really cute best friend had his glasses on and was trying to teach you something.

Holy shit he looks so hot, you think to yourself as you watch Suga redraw the graph you were miserably failing at. No wonder he wants to be a teacher, he’s amazing at this. Wait! Why am I thinking like this? He’s my best friend! I don’t like him like that!

“You got all this?” Suga asks you, a gentle expression on his face as he finishes the sketch, holding it up to show you. You blink dumbly at him for a second before nodding, “Yeah, uh, thanks, Suga.”

He gives you a short nod back but doesn’t return to his seat. He reaches for the journal he had been reading but stops and turns back to you.

“Hey, Y/n, I actually have something to ask you,” a blush starts to creep up his neck and red coats the tips of his ears. You turn away from your math homework to get a better look at your best friend.

One of his hands goes to scratch at his neck while he stutters out, “I- I, uhm, was wondering if you would w-want to go to this, uhm event with me? It’s in New York, so I get it if you don’t feel comfortable and it’s-”

“Suga, I would love to!” you chirp out, a smile gracing your features as you place a hand on his shoulder. A deep sigh of relief leaves his lips as he grins back at you, “Thank goodness, I really didn’t want to go alone. Not when Daichi and Asahi are going to show up with pretty girls on their arms.”

You blink at his words and look toward the floor, “Are you asking me just because I’m your best friend? Or am I pretty enough to fit in with your friends?” A sinking feeling hits your stomach as you realize the differences between you two.

It was easy to forget Suga’s wealthy status when he was your best friend. You had grown up together, so he just seemed like family. Suga never truly liked to flaunt his money or possessions, so it never really bothered you. But here he was, asking you to fly across the globe to go to an event with other rich people.

Suga quickly waves his hands in front of him before awkwardly trying to reassure you, “No, no, Y/n!! You are my best friend, and well, you’re really pretty- I just thought you might want to go, and I don’t think you aren’t pretty, in fact, I think you're one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen!”

A silence falls over the two of you as you both look at each other in surprise at Suga’s small outburst. You burst out laughing at the embarrassment on Suga’s face, hands clutching toward your stomach out of habit.

“You should have seen your face, Suga! Oh my gosh, you really are too sweet for your own good sometimes,” you squeak out in between giggles. Suga visibly relaxes at your words, and then pouts in his chair, sticking his tongue out at you in annoyance.

A smirk appears on Suga’s lips as he turns back to you, an evil look plastered onto his face. Your eyes widen as you start to realize what that look meant.

“No, SUGAAAAA!! Do we have to go shopping?” you whine as he pulls you into a new store. He just laughs and reassures you that it was very important.

“You have to pick a dress to wear at the event, Y/n,” he states, hands looking through the rack of dresses in your size. You stop for a moment to admire him, his brown eyes looking over each dress, taking in every part before deciding if it was your style or not.

“Can I at least pick which color we wear?” you ask as you slide in next to him. Suga just laughs and nods as he pulls a dress off the rack to show you.

The rest of the afternoon is spent shopping for new suitcases, outfits, and of course, the dress you were going to wear at the event. Suga left you to get your dress fitted as he went to find a matching tux.

You surprisingly trusted him to get a suit that matched well enough, because it’s Suga here. He is quite the fashionista, and he had a picture of your dress to show to his tailor. You would be taking the clothes with you that day, as the plane would leave the following morning.

You both had agreed to meet at the airport in the morning, Suga had even gone as far as to have a car drop by your house to pick you up, and all of your luggage would be loaded by some of his private crew.

Suga waved at you as you slid out of the car he sent, and you lifted your arm to wave back. You thanked the driver and slid out, your carry-on slung over your shoulder as you made your way over to him.

The private jet was waiting and ready to go, so you both boarded the awaiting plane and got buckled in for take-off. You had asked Suga if you could sit next to him, as you were a little uneasy about flying, and being next to him would be comforting enough for you until you got up into the sky.

He, of course, was reading over the itinerary for the event, but the feeling of being up in the plane made you slightly sick to your stomach. Your head landed on his shoulder, and before you knew it, you were asleep on his shoulder.

Suga looks down at you with a soft admiration and love in his eyes, and he allows himself to enjoy the closeness with you. He gently rests the side of his head against the top of yours, and he slips an arm behind your back so you could be more comfortable. It was going to be a long flight to New York City.

It wasn’t long before your plane landed and you were sleepily getting ushered into a fancy black car. The hotel you were staying at was apparently one of the nicest around, so you couldn’t complain as your heavy eyes stared out the window.

Neither you nor Suga said anything when you woke up from your nap, and neither of you noticed the faint blush coating the other’s cheeks when you pulled away. Suga, ever the gentleman, had helped you down from the plane and carried your bag the whole way to where the car was waiting.

You could hear the radio faintly in the background, along with the soft and calm voice of Suga. He was on the phone with one of his friends, you couldn’t tell if it was Daichi or Asahi though. Suga told whoever was on the other side that you both had landed safely and were going to the hotel to relax after the long flight.

Soon enough you are facing a very large and fancy-looking hotel, bright lights shining down against the darkened night sky. You are caught staring for a moment before your car door opens to Suga staring down at you.

“We’re here, Y/n. Let's grab our bags from the trunk and get settled in,” he murmurs quietly, as if to not startle you. You give him a nod before beginning to slide out of the seat, knees wobbly as you stand up straight.

Large and comforting hands steady you on either side of your hips, and you look up to see warm honey-colored eyes staring back at you. “Ya okay there, Y/n? I don’t have to carry you now, do I?”

A chuckle leaves both of your lips as he pulls away, handing you your backpack and rolling your suitcase up next to you. The two of you head into the main lobby, waiting for a minute to get your room number before locating the elevator.

You once again slump against Suga as the numbers on the elevator click by slowly. Suga glances down at your tired form with affection in his eyes, and he whispers, “Hey, you can’t be falling asleep yet. You slept almost for the whole plane ride, and we’ve got some things to go over.”

You turn your head to glance up at him with confusion lacing your features. “Whatcha mean we got things to go over? Like for the event?” you question him, eyes flicking over his face tiredly.

Suga nods as the elevator opens to your floor, and he leads the way down the hallway to where your large room was waiting. You had asked him if you could share a room, as you had never been to NYC before and were hesitant to be alone.

As you get your things situated, Suga explains how with his friends at the event you can be yourself; goofy, charismatic, and so on. He also mentioned how his coach was going to be there after traveling, and that you would have to be pretty put together in front of him.

“This sounds like a lot, Suga,” you fret, hands fiddling with your suitcase as you pull out a pair of pajamas. “I don’t know if I’m going to be able to remember all of this.”

Suga doesn’t say anything for a second before he looks you square in the eyes and says, “Well don’t worry about it too much. I’ll be right there beside you, Y/n. I drug you into this mess, I can at least be by your side for the whole night.”

You gave him a smile before nodding to the bathroom, “I’m going to get a shower now, is that alright?” Suga just gives you a quick thumbs up over his shoulder as he reaches for the remote to turn on the tv.

You wander into the very large bathroom, taking in the high ceiling and marble countertops. You set your clothes down next to the sink before turning on the water and getting ready for your shower. Tomorrow was the big day, after all.

The night was young as the bright lights from the city reflected off the windows of the black limo you were sitting in. Suga was sitting across from you, head resting against the window as he watched the streets fly by.

He looked handsome. He looked sinfully handsome. His legs were crossed, and maybe that was a good thing. You could stop staring at his thick and muscular thighs.

You couldn’t help looking at your best friend like this. The way his perfectly tailored vest fit snugly across his chest was distracting, and the way the sleeves to his black button-up were rolled to expose his strong forearms was unforgivable.

Suga was looking out of the window for one reason and one reason only. He was trying to stop staring at you because holy shit his best friend was riding in a limo with him to a huge event, and oh my goodness did you look divine.

Your flowy black dress filled a good portion of the limo, so Suga couldn’t really sit next to you anyways. In general, he was struggling to contain himself around you, so he opted for quietly watching from the window as you played on your phone.

The limo stopped after a few more minutes of driving, and suddenly you had arrived at a huge mansion just outside of Manhattan. Suga helped you out of the limo, offering his arm to you as you walked toward the growing party.

You clung on tight to Suga’s arm as he began talking to CEOs and other pompous aristocrats, your (colored) eyes scanning around you to see if you could recognize anyone. Suga mentions you a few times to the people he’s talking to, and you say a few words here or there, letting Suga carry the weight of the conversation.

Soon enough, the conversation ends and Suga leads you away from those people before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “You’re doing great, Y/n. Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

Your (colored) eyes look up to him quickly, a warmth flooding your cheeks as you scan over his features. He looked as calm and collected as ever, his brown eyes watching the crowd as he guided you toward a less busy corner.

“You look handsome tonight too, Suga,” you murmur shyly as he finally lets his gaze settle over you. He playfully punches your shoulder and chuckles out, “Hey, I was trying to be nice and make this about you, ya know.”

You got to shove him back playfully before you catch sight of shoulder-length brown hair, paired with a barely-there scruff.

“Asahi!” you call out, waving at him as he catches sight of you and Suga. A man slightly shorter than Asahi follows behind him.

Suga turns away from you to see Asahi and Daichi approaching and he opens his arms wide for a hug. “Asahi, Daichi! Good to see ya, fellows. How have you been?” Suga asks them, pulling you up next to him so you could say hello to his buddies.

Asahi gives a shy smile as Suga wraps him in a big bear hug and he stutters out, “I’ve uh, I’ve been good Suga- I can’t b-breathe when you sQUEeze me that tight.” Daichi just laughs and pulls Suga away to do the handshake chest bump thing that guys always do.

“Nice to see you Suga, Y/n, I haven’t seen you in forever! You look beautiful tonight,” Daichi says as he pulls Suga under his arm. Suga shoots you a sheepish grin as his best friends begin to pull him away.

“Y/n, is it alright if we steal him for a little while? To catch up?” Asahi asks as Daichi starts ushering Suga away from you. You just give Suga a little wave as you respond to Asahi, “Yeah, no problem! Just bring him back to me in one piece.”

Asahi laughs as he follows the captain and vice-captain into the mix of the party. You are left alone for a brief moment before someone calls your name. You look around, but you don’t see anyone you recognize.

Suddenly, two shorter boys appear in front of you, large toothy grins gleaming at you. “Noya! Hinata! How are you?!” you squeal out as you trap them both in a hug.

A bored voice from behind them mutters out, “They should be better, they’ve been slacking off at practices.” You pull away and lunge at Kageyama, wrapping the tall, lanky boy in a tight hug with a cry of, “Kags! I should have known you would be here!”

“Hey!!! Why don’t I get any love?” came the fourth voice, and you turn to be faced with Tanaka. You let a laugh leave your lips as you give the last boy a hug before pulling back to look at all four of them.

“I haven’t seen you all in so long, you all look so handsome!” you state happily, hands toying with the side of your dress as you gaze upon them. Tanaka, Hinata, and Noya all beam under your praise, while Kageyama just blushes faintly and covers it up with a cough.

Noya looks around you for a second, confusion obvious on his face as he ponders aloud, “Where’s Sugawara? He was the one who brought you right?”

You go to tell him that Asahi and Daichi stole him but you are cut off by Hinata chirping out, “Yeah, is he like your boyfriend or something now?”

“Oh quit it, you moron,” Kageyama snaps at him, “Sugawara would have told us if he managed to snag her, dumbass.”

You blink dumbly at them all for a second before they all look up at you, eyes wide like puppies who ate something they shouldn’t have. Tanaka breaks the silence by saying, “C’mon guys, do you really think Suga could catch someone as pretty as Y/n? I don’t think so!”

“Hey, I would watch your mouth there, Tanaka,” Daichi’s voice comes. Asahi and Sugawara are right behind him, and Suga slides in next to you with an apologetic smile. He leans down to whisper in your ear as Daichi starts arguing with Tanaka, “Sorry I took so long, the guys really missed me, and I-”

You quickly shush him and shrug with a smile, “No, no it’s alright. I was just catching up with these lunatics.” Suga gives you a grateful smile in return before looking back at his friends, laughing along with a joke Noya told Asahi.

Your (colored) eyes flick over Suga’s handsome face, taking in the soft pink on his cheeks from laughing, the beauty mark next to his eye, and the gentle curve of his lips as he smiles at his friends.

You must have kept your eyes on Suga for a second too long, because Hinaya peeps out, “Hey, Y/n, is there something on Suga’s face that you’re looking at?”

You tear your eyes away from Suga as fast as you can to look anywhere but at any of the people around you. The group of boys all watch you as your face flushes and your mouth gapes open, but no words come out.

Suga starts to get concerned when you don’t say anything, and he murmurs to you, “Hey, what’s going on? Y/n are you okay? Your face is burning up.” You remain silent as you try to think of anything to say, so Suga nods to Daichi as he starts to pull you away from the crowd.

Suga guides you through a large set of heavy spruce doors before leading you out into a small garden. The cool night air helps to calm the rush of heat coating your face and neck, and Suga takes a deep breath in before sighing it out slowly.

“What was all that back there?” Suga asks quietly as you sit down on a long bench on the side of the garden. You avert your eyes away from him as you fiddle with the layers of tool from your black dress.

“Y/n?” Suga asks as he leans down to you, resting one arm on the bench next to you, caging you to the bench with just his body. He brings his other hand up to cup your cheek, bringing your eyes to meet his. You gulp at the warmth of his touch, even though you feel shivers down your spine.

Suga’s expression is anything but harsh though, there is only concern and care in his eyes as he gazes down at you. You open your mouth to answer him but you are left with silence hanging in the air. Suga tries to give you an encouraging smile, allowing his hand to drop from your face to grab one of your hands.

“You know you can tell me anything, Y/n. I’m your best friend.” But I want to be more. The words were left hanging on his tongue, but you didn’t know any different because you were so caught up in your own head.

“I uh, yeah, thanks Suga. I guess I just got lost in thought and zoned out for a minute,” your murmur as you look down at his hand on yours. Best friend. That’s what Suga was to you, a best friend, a study partner, your everything.

“Suga, I-” “Hey, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Tonight is about having fun, so we don’t have to get too much into this, okay?” Suga cuts you off gently, squeezing your hands reassuringly before reaching behind you to pluck a rose from the bush near your head.

He carefully peels the thorns off quickly before he turns back to you, sliding the brilliant red rose behind your ear with a soft caress to your cheek. He gives you a slight smirk before he shifts his weight and murmurs, “I meant it earlier. You really do look gorgeous tonight, Y/n.”

You blush under his watchful gaze, and you can see his eyes trail over your whole face, even going as far as to take a step back to look at you in your dress. He lets a cheeky whistle slide from his lips as he looks at you fondly, and this time you are at a loss for words because of the way he’s looking at you.

He’s never looked at you like this before.

It was quiet in the car, no music, no hushed whispers, just hanging silence. It wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, but you could feel some tension between you and Suga.

You were feeling a lot of things after the way he looked at you, but he brushed the situation off fairly quickly, lending you a hand before whisking you back to the party where his friends were waiting.

Suga helped carry the train on your dress as you made your way up to your room, only a few words being passed between the two of you to keep the dress in the best shape possible.

Once you made it comfortably inside the room you turned to Suga, a faint blush coating your cheeks as he unbuttoned the silver-colored vest that was wrapped so neatly around his torso.

“Hey Suga,” you mumble, hands clenching at your sides as you inwardly groan. He turns to you quickly before murmuring back, “Yeah?”

You shuffle closer to him before turning your back to him and saying over your shoulder, “Could you unzip me? I don’t think I can reach it.”

Suga just nods, and he has to clear his throat and mind to keep his thoughts from straying. His mind was tired and he could make a fool of himself if he wasn’t careful.

One of Suga’s warm hands rests on your waist as a brace, and the other hand uses its nimble fingers to slowly slide the zipper down your back. Suga’s breath catches in his throat for a second, his hands lingering longer than they should have.

He can’t help the way he’s looking at you when you turn to face him. His eyes are blown out wide, full of some unknown emotion as he looks over you. Suddenly it clicks in your head.

He’s giving you the same look he gave you in the garden. It’s an intricate look, one of many layers, the first and most outward one being happiness. Then, maybe some adoration and giddiness. But the final depth to it, you couldn’t quite place your finger on it.

You turn to fully face him, opening your mouth to speak before he spits out, “You can have the bathroom first, I’ll uhm, I’ll get changed out here.”

You give him a nod before shuffling over to your suitcase and grabbing your pajamas before slipping into the bathroom. Once the door shuts behind you, a shaky sigh leaves your lips as you lean up against the door.

Fuck, what was that just then?

You get changed as quickly as you can, hanging the dress on its hanger before jumping in the shower. Once you take a quick shower, you wipe your makeup off and comb through your hair. You splash some cool water on your face to help you clear your thoughts, and you lock eyes with yourself in the mirror.

I’ve got to be honest with myself. Something is going on here, and I’m not really sure what it is. I can’t deny it, I like him. I like him a whole hell of a lot. I just can’t ruin this…

You shake your head to try to rid yourself of your lingering thoughts before you walk back out into the main living area of the hotel room. At first, you don’t notice where Suga is at, but then when you catch sight of him, a flush is filling your cheeks before you can help it.

Suga’s back was facing you, but it was very much a shirtless back, and while you had seen him shirtless after practices or even when you were swimming in his pool, this was different. This was domestic, there wasn’t anyone else between you two.

You squeak as you drop your phone, the small rectangle cracking against your foot in your stupor of Suga’s back muscles. He turns around quickly at your cry, and you avert your eyes to the floor to pick up your phone, trying to relax the rapid beating of your heart in your chest.

When you look up, Suga is pulling on a shirt, but you still manage to see the nice set of muscles set upon his toned torso. You wander over to your suitcase, putting away your toothbrush and other small items before glancing over at him.

Suga was already looking at you and he quips out, “Why’s your face all red? Did you use up all the hot water?” You just giggle to try to cover your butt, and he joins in as you nod, “Yeah, you know me too well, Suga.”

The rest of the evening slides by rather silently, with you scrolling through your phone before giving up and trying to sleep. Suga, however, is sitting at the desk next to his bed, reading one of the books he packed. He even had his reading glasses on so he could dim the light a little more for you, in hopes you would be able to fall asleep.

After 30 minutes of tossing and turning you shuffle up and whisper out, “Suga? Do you think you could lay with me? I can’t seem to fall asleep.” When Suga looks up from his book at you, your hair is slightly mussed from your constant motion, and your t-shirt is just barely hanging off your shoulder.

You looked as exhausted as he felt. He just gives a tired smile before nodding and placing his book down. He slides his glasses off before rubbing at his tired eyes, flicking the lamp off as he stands up.

Suga walks over to the side of your bed closest to his, so that if you wanted him to move to his own bed, it would be less of a hazard in the darkness. You pull the covers back for him, and soon enough Suga is settling down next to you, laying flat on his back.

You roll over onto your side to face him, and in the darkness, you can see his eyes twinkling from the lights of the city behind him. You whisper into the darkness, “Thanks for inviting me on this trip, Suga. It means a lot, you know. I’m not one who grew up with all the fancy things you have, so this was a true experience for me. Thank you.”

You can hear a tired chuckle from Suga as he whispers back to you, “No, Y/n. Thank you for coming with me. Don’t know what I would have done without you today.”

You just smile to yourself at his words, your heart fluttering a little more as you hear him softly groan as he fluffs his pillow before flopping down again. You blink once before closing your eyes and murmuring, “Goodnight, Suga.”

A quiet, “Goodnight, Y/n,” is the only response you hear before you are pulled under by sleep. Except you missed the silent thought floating around in Suga’s head.

I love you.

A soft beam of glowing sunlight is what wakes you up, the ray shining brightly into your face as it slid past the parted curtain. You blink your eyes a few times to allow them to adjust to the light, and you are confused for a second at how heavy the blanket feels around you.

Said heavy blanket groans softly in your ear as he too squints at the light filling the room. Suga’s arm was wrapped firmly around your waist, pulling you close to his broad chest. This had you waking up fast, because the fact that your best friend was most definitely spooning you right now was a little jarring.

A groggy but deep grumble of “G’morning” falls from Suga’s lips as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. Warm puffs of air from his nose land on your skin, and you shiver at the goosebumps that rise on your arms and legs.

Suga shuffles a little more, tightening his grip around you as he mumbles, “You cold, Y/n? I’m roasting right now.” You giggle at his words before turning around in his arms, a whine leaving his lips as you shuffle around.

“Good morning, Suga,” you whisper as he blinks sleepily at you, large brown eyes soft in his morning glow. “Good morning, Y/n,” he says back with a dopey grin, a slight flush covering his cheeks at your close proximity.

You push on his chest with a gentle shove and another giggle as you murmur, “You said that already, you dork.” Suga just chuckles along with you and says, “I guess I’m not used to waking up next to you. We’ve been best friends for how long now and we’ve never had to share a bed?”

You both laugh at his words, enjoying each other’s company for another quiet minute before Suga’s phone starts ringing. Suga rolls onto his back with a loud groan, his arms and legs making a large starfish across the bed, pushing you off in his haste.

You cough a few times as you glare up at him, and Suga just points to his phone and mouths, “Sorry, I need to take this.” He grabs a pair of clothes before disappearing into the bathroom without another word.

The soft noise of the shower turning on alerts you that it was safe to get changed, so you pulled on a pair of jeans and a comfortable sweater before scrolling through your phone as you waited for Suga.

The day itself wasn’t meant to be super exciting, Suga had gotten an extra day in Manhattan for you to sightsee and go shopping. The flight to Japan was leaving that night though, and it was the last flight leaving for the night so you couldn’t miss it.

Suga allows you to drag him around the city, taking pictures at small cafes and huge signs here or there for your family back home. There was one building that had pretty brickwork and you asked Suga if he wanted to take a selfie with you.

He took the selfie on his phone, he had the better camera after all. You both smiled at the camera with large grins before Suga started counting down, “3… 2…. 1… ” and on what should have been cheese, he pressed a gentle kiss to the side of your cheek instead.

You tried not to think about the lingering feeling of his lips on your cheek as you ask him to send you the photo. Little do you know, he saved it as his lock screen while he was waiting for your phone to receive the picture.

After getting dinner at a small and locally owned restaurant, Suga begins pulling you toward the hotel. You both pack up your suitcases and bags, and before you knew it you were boarding the same jet that had taken you to the states.

The sky was pitch black as the plane ascended upwards, and you find yourself burying your face into your hands as you adjust to the feeling of being thousands of feet in the air. Suga was sitting next to you quietly, writing something in his journal about the event and talking to the CEOs.

The silence isn’t necessarily comfortable, there’s nothing except for the sound of the flight, and you can’t help but feel like you need to say something. You shuffle in your seat for a second, trying to get comfortable on the large cushion underneath you without bumping into Suga.

“Hey, Suga?” you ask softly, trying to not bug him if he was writing something important. He finishes writing whatever thought he had before turning to you, one hand coming up to rest against his cheek as he regards you.

“Yeah?” he prompts as he looks over your form, your hands clenching together as if you were unsure if what you were going to say was okay or not.

You turn to face him a little more, and you stare directly into his brown eyes as you say, “Thank you, again for taking me on this trip. I really had a lot of fun, and it was great to see Daichi and Asahi again. Noya and Tanaka too of course...”

Your words start to fade in Suga’s head as he gazes upon you. The lights from the city were shining brightly against the night sky behind you, lighting up the hair around you like a golden halo. The soft and warm-toned lights from inside the plane made your (colored) eyes sparkle, and suddenly, all Suga could think about was you.

He thought about all the times he tried to ask a girl out on a date, but they all rejected him because they thought he had a girlfriend. Suga was always so confused, he was hurt by the fact that no one wanted to date the rich kid, no one even tried to mooch off of him.

And it was because everyone knew he had you. You were always by his side, eating lunch next to him, walking to class with him, getting rides home in the winter because he didn’t want you walking home in the snow.

He had fallen so utterly and deeply in love with you over the years, and he was ready to toss it all out of the window with his next action.

Slowly but confidently, Suga brings his right hand up to cup your cheek, allowing his hand to glide behind your head. He leans in, eyes soft but determined. You didn’t understand what was going on at first, allowing your words to slowly drift off as Suga was the only thing you could think of.

His left hand finds a place on your waist, pulling you gently toward him as his head starts to tilt to the right. Your heart starts beating faster in your chest as butterflies erupt in your stomach.

Suga was giving you all the time if you so desired to pull away, but he was pleasantly surprised when you leaned in, lips parting ever so slightly as you shut your eyes.

His lips felt like fire and ice all at once, burning and freezing as the air left your lungs. Kissing Suga was like eating a meal after fasting for weeks on end. He felt so much like home it almost scared you.

Suga’s lips move against yours at a bruising pace, letting you set the tone of the passionate kiss. You hear a slight groan from Suga when you brush your tongue against his bottom lip. He takes charge quickly though, his tongue chasing after yours playfully.

You try to battle him for dominance, your hands sliding across his chest before rising to tug on his hair. Suga takes this chance to tug gently on your bottom lip with his teeth before pulling away slowly, chest heaving from the weight behind the kiss.

You lean forward quickly though, press a soft peck on his lips before he pulls you close, leaning your forehead against his while you both catch your breath. No words are shared for a second as you both regain somewhat normal breathing, and this time you notice the flush on Suga’s cheeks.

You can see the city lights reflecting on his face as he looks at you, eyes blown wide with surprise and happiness, and definitely something else.

It’s the look he gave you in the garden, and it’s the look he gave you when he helped you out of your dress. This time, words start to come to mind to describe the look he’s giving you.

It’s tender and sweet. It’s fond and warm. It’s so Suga. It’s so… intimate.

You go to say something, but Suga beats you to it as he reaches for your hand. Suga swallows thickly and then says, “Y/n, I- I'm sorry, I don’t know what came over me, but hear me out okay?”

You open your mouth to interject, but you decide against it and give him a nod. He takes a deep breath and squeezes your hand ever so slightly, his own shaking slightly at his sudden nerves.

“Y/n, I know we have been best friends for a long time, and I really have enjoyed our friendship, and I mean it. But, I can’t deny it any longer,” he looks down at your hands before looking you square in the eyes.

“I am in love with you, and I have been for years now. I tried to play it off as sisterly love, because we were practically raised together. But I couldn’t deny the way my chest would flutter when yet another girl would turn me down for one reason and one reason only, you.”

You blink in surprise for a second, but Suga continues, “I couldn’t help but feel mad when jocks from the soccer team would try to ask you to the spring formal. I thought it was because I am your best friend, but I love you more than that.”

You give him a smile back, a warm feeling spreading over your body as you manage to choke out, “I love you to Suga, and not just in the best friend kind of way.”

Relief and joy flood Suga’s face, and you almost swore you saw tears gather at the edges of his eyes. He flushes softly before murmuring, “Can I kiss you again?”

You give him a gentle nod before he pulls you onto his lap, holding you close to his toned chest before leaning forward and kissing you like his life depended on it.

And on that flight, city lights against the midnight sky became an ambient background as the two of you discovered what you had been missing out on for all these years.

146 notes · View notes

dennou-translations · 4 years

Photo

Violet Evergarden Ever After: Chapter 1

Please feel free to message me about possible corrections. If you can, consider supporting the creators by purchasing the official releases. In case anyone is feeling generous: Ko-fi | PayPal. ( ╹◡╹)っ’･*

← Previous || Index || Next →

Stories end one day once they begin. With that in mind, one might deem clinging to themselves, to other people or to anything else in the world as a little foolish. Same for how fiercely their heart was burning. Or how it cried for these things. It would all disappear like a dream eventually. One could think that even just putting in some effort was meaningless. Yet it had started.

Born through some sort of cue, anyone would breathe. Open their eyes. Learn to let out their voice. Figure how to walk. Come to understand what love was. Receive affection. Find out that it was a sickness, and either stop or give continuity to it. Nobody was taught how to cure it. There were also those who never even once accepted it from anyone.

Whatever the case, no one was allowed to stop for as long as they were part of this story, of this world. While living, people would be continuously be involved with death. But if morning came, night would also follow. Hunger would abate and sleep would invite one to the floor. Even after losing love, people craved for it. With its eyes cast down to forfeit, the world gradually emitted a new shine. Manifestation of beauty and hideous collapses were in progress at the same time. There was no eternity, but things went on. The story would continue. The world would go round. Even if it would meet its end one day.

Even without you there, morning would come.

Blue eyes opened.

Purple flower petals fluttered gently in front of her eyes and passed her. They touched her as if to cause tickles, and then disappeared. The illusions of the past that had been surfacing dissipated slowly.

Her wild beast self and her named self. All of the past dissolved into reality, dragged back into the present. Here, there was neither a beast nor the man that it used to call “Major”.

The boat lethargically moved through a large river, an Auto-Memories Doll on it. The rowing of the boater, who wore a big hat, was quite something. For it to cause a chance meeting between her and her past, that had to be a good boater.

The girl, Violet – Violet Evergarden – was looking for someone.

Whenever she opened her eyes, she would wind up doing it. Looking for the person who had given her as much as he could give and then vanished. Looking for the person that she had hurt as much as she could hurt and not managed to protect.

Of course, he was nowhere in sight. There was no way he would be in such a place. She knew it. However, she would end up searching. Her most beloved lord had supposedly died long ago, yet she would find herself searching for him. Even an apparition would do; she only wanted to see him at least one more time.

The world he was gone from had livened up anew and its colors were vibrant. Violet had to live in said world. She had to live in this fresh hell. She could no longer receive orders. Neither could she chase after his back. There were limits to what she could do.

It was easy for people to tell her to move on. However, that was a great difficulty for her. Violet had been told to live. Just as ordered, without attempting to die, she was living while burdened with this difficulty.

“Miss, what is it you’re looking for?”

At that time, Violet was still not a full-fledged human.

The Rose and the Auto-Memories Doll

“Wait,” I prayed.

The dark red ribbons tying her golden hair. The pleats on her white ribbon-tie dress. The light blue umbrella. As if playing around, all of these things fluttered in the wind.

——Wait for me.

It was hard to breathe. Flowers from the jacaranda trees were blocking my field of vision. Their beauty erased everything that could be seen. Yet they were nothing but a hindrance now. What I yearned for wasn’t them.

——Please, wait for me.

Tears welled up. I didn’t know whether they were tears of sadness, relief or frustration.

I didn’t understand anything anymore. What was I doing? I didn’t know. Surely, I had never known. I didn’t even know that I was hurting.

——Wait.

If there was one thing I knew, it was that I wanted her to take me away from here.

“Violet, wait.”

That was all.

——So please, wait up; don’t leave me behind.

It was spring. When it came to the four seasons, spring was surely the best one.

I first met her at a time when lilac blossoms were in bloom. Lightly, nimbly, they fluttered down. It was a season where purple flower petals danced in the sky. Spring. A season of sprouting.

What color came to people’s minds when they talked about spring, I wondered. It was probably a different one depending on where each of them lived. Pink cheery blossoms were scattered around higher lands. I had heard that bougainvillea flowers dyed a certain region in pure white. Apparently, the sight of green stems stretching out from within the snow thaw was the face of spring in some places. As for me, when the topic was spring, it had to be jacaranda trees.

The Jacaranda River was located among the mountains of the d’Arthur Region at southwest of the continent. It was a large river surrounded by steep mountains that rose like giants. Bearing the same name, jacaranda trees were planted along said river as if to enclose it, and during the flowering seasons, the color of the water surface would turn violet.

Ordinary trees had their branches, fruits and leaves pointed downward, but jacaranda flowers grew pointing upward, almost like a hand holding a bouquet. Just one of those flowering trees was already a feast to the eyes, so it was simply magnificent when there were many of them together. The sky was blue; the earth was a cloud of purple. Even God would easily let out a sigh when looking down at this scene from the heavens.

There were countless small communities in the vicinities of the Jacaranda River, and in order to go from the outside to a piece of land that had a settlement on it, one basically had to move by boat. Hence why it was so easy for the people who lived in this neighborhood to become sailors as a job. The pay, in contrast, was not so rewarding, but not to the point of making anyone go hungry. People coming from other places would gather into crowds to see the jacaranda trees during springtime and there was demand from the locals even outside of the busy seasons. So I would continue on my job here forever and never lose it.

In this world, inside this little story of mine, I had an encounter with her.

“Excuse me; I heard that there is a village beyond this point. Is it possible to cross the river?”

A foreign object appeared in that tiny world of mine.

“Hello. Yes, I go there often. This is how much it costs and the payment is in advance.”

Her name would eventually roar throughout the business, but at this time, she was a ghostwriter girl who had barely started to travel the world.

“I do not mind. It will be my pleasure.”

“We usually put the names of the customers on an account book. May I have your name?”

That was how she and I met.

“It is Violet Evergarden.”

To be honest, she was the kind of person who could cause people’s time to stop in fascination for a brief moment. This ferry port was crowded in spring. There were many other people around, so of course, I could spot several beautiful men and women who showed up for sightseeing, but she was unlike any of them. No matter what background was behind her, she would only be a strange object in it. Be it rainy or sunny days, winter or spring days. Regardless of whatever the world was clad in, one would find their eyes going towards her. Beauty was not the only reason for it. Her scent was different from that of other living things.

——It’s similar to the feeling I got... when seeing a deer in the mountains for the first time.

Right, a wild beast. She was like a beautiful wild beast. If such a stunning beast appeared in front of anyone’s eyes all of a sudden, they would surely stare fixatedly at it. This one had blue eyes and its mane was golden.

“Please treat me well.”

“Ah, yes.”

Her voice was clear, her gestures elegant.

“Is there anything wrong with my appearance?”

“No, no; not at all. Nothing at all.”

She was full of mysteries that other people would not be allowed to touch so easily.

Her outfit might also be at fault. She was well-dressed in a way that one wouldn’t see around this area. A Prussian-blue jacket, a white ribbon-tie dress and cocoa-brown boots that could be deemed as brand-new. An emerald brooch shone radiantly over the ribbon tie. I had but one toy similar to her when I was a child. That young woman was literally just like a doll. On top of it, even the name I asked for matched her lovely looks, to the point I felt like humming without thinking.

“Ms. ‘Violet Evergarden’. All... right. Now, if you please.”

It was a good name. Like an actor’s. I had never watched a play or anything of the sort, though.

“Thank you very much for your patronage today. I am the safest operator around here. Boater Valentine.”

Once the name was written down and the fare was received, my work began.

The customers would be hesitant when getting on the boat regardless of whether they were men or women, but Violet differed from them. She got on it without a sound, quickly sat down and postured herself in waiting for me to start rowing.

Whatever thoughts she was engrossed in, she quietly closed her eyes after taking a glance at the scattering jacaranda flowers. It was a day of warm sunlight and pleasant wind, so she might have become sleepy. The comfortable silence continued for a while. I thought about leaving her alone, but perhaps because the petals that rode on the wind and flew about had tickled her cheeks, she opened her blue eyes. The scenery of earlier was not supposed to be any different, yet she looked left and right as if searching for someone.

“Miss, what is it you’re looking for?”

As I asked so, Violet moved her neck with a twitch like a small animal and looked my way. After a short moment, the answer came in a low voice with an “it is nothing”. She seemed a bit dispirited.

She looked like an uncommunicative person, so I did think she might not go along with a boater’s talk, but wanting a change in mood, I kept on speaking, “Miss, you are in luck. Now is the best time to view them. The jacarandas.”

“Is that so?”

She was kind of a weird girl. Her manner of speech was weak in emotion.

“For me, this is the time to make money. When this period passes, people stop coming to this remote region. This is my main occupation, but many people do boat rowing as a side-job too. When spring is over, they do farming. Miss... it does not seem that you are here for sightseeing. Is it for work?”

“Yes.”

“Is it a job related to boats?”

“No.”

“My, wrong guess. You don’t get scared of the swaying, so I thought you were used to it.”

“Is that how it looks?”

After we spoke that much, Violet finally stopped searching and moved her gaze towards me.

“You do. It feels like you have no fears.”

Silence drifted about. Rather than ignoring me, she seemed to be having difficulty choosing her words.

Until this mysterious beauty spoke up, I was smoothly cutting the surface of the water with the oar. Maybe due to her baggage being heavy, the propelling was slower than I had predicted. She was a slim young woman no matter how I looked at her, so her luggage was probably the one to blame for the rowing’s bad flow. Come to think of it, a low screeching sound ensued whenever she moved. She might have some sort of manufactured item on her.

“You are right. I have been with the navy before, so...”

Oops, the conversation was back.

“Is your family from the military?”

“No, just me. My military service record was ultimately the army. But before the army... the person that I served was a navy officer.”

The reply was covered in enigmas. Her profile was cold. The way she talked was perfectly fitting of a mysterious beauty.

I thought this strange client was a little scary, but let out my curiosity just a bit more. I had never gone outside of these lands, so I loved chatting with the customers.

“I can’t believe it. To think that someone like you used to be a soldier...”

She had no idea what the description “like you” represented. This impression showed through just slightly in her facial expression.

I rode with many people, so I sort of had my own theories about them. I felt like students from renowned schools would make this into a laughingstock if I were to call it a “philosophy”, but... people communicated the actual state of their emotions through the blinking of their eyes, the way they opened their mouths, the highs and lows of their voices and other such things.

They were extremely scarce in this girl, but I could perceive them. Seriously. I was an expert at “observing” others.

“Do you get troubled when people coax you or something like that?”

As I asked out of curiosity, Violet once again had a question mark over her face, but after a while, she blinked as if to say, “I have arrived to an answer for the inquiry” and gave me an unexpected reply. “In my travels, I am sometimes invited by people to become their bodyguard after saving them. I am an Auto-Memories Doll, so I decline them politely,” she said.

I was asking in a romantic sense, so that could not be considered an answer to my question.

What a strange doll. What an odd girl.

——My life would be wonderful if I were born with these looks.

On first meetings, one’s eyes would go to people’s physical appearance first and foremost. Everyone had a preferred type of face, right? I accidentally ended up comparing hers to mine.

Perhaps as I was always wearing a big straw hat so that my skin wouldn’t be damaged by sunburns, my hair was squashed. Even if I took off the hat, the platinum-blond color could get me mistaken for a grizzly old man. Other girls of the same age as me sparkled so much, and yet, just what was I? Being in the same space as them was embarrassing... No, let’s leave what the eyes could see aside. I should serve the customer; serve the customer.

“Beautiful here, isn’t it? These are jacaranda flowers.”

“‘Jacaranda’...”

“Ah, they sell fruits on that boat over there. Want to buy any?”

“No.”

“Do I talk too much? Ah, look! That bird is very rare. Can you tell it has the color of emeralds? It’s called ‘gemstone bird’. The feathers they drop are my treasures.”

“It is beautiful.”

“I think so too! I might get along well with you. What do you usually do to pass the time?”

During my and Violet’s short boat-riding trip, she told me the following:

She worked for a certain postal company from a military nation in the far south named Leidenschaftlich.

She was a newbie Auto-Memories Doll there.

Through her current commission, it was her first time coming to these lands.

Before arriving here, she drove two groups of bandits away.

She was told by her boss to bring him local specialties of this area as souvenir.

That was it. She had many stories about her boss.

“So the president and employees are close in your company, huh.”

“Is that so... No, you are right. Our company has just barely been built and there are few employees. If the number of unit members is small, the distance between them and the commander naturally grows shorter. Yes, to someone like me, whose origins are unknown, he is a compassionate person.”

“You don’t have to talk like that about yourself...”

“It is true. I am an orphan and do not know where I was born.”

I added “orphan” to the information about Violet that I had inside me. The things that had happened to this person dictated the air about her, I thought. Was that the reason why she seemed somewhat lonely?

“But now I have people who look after me.”

“Your boss.”

“Yes. And a kind elderly couple as well.”

“Aah, good for you. Being alone is sad. If you have someone to be with, that’s better. So you used to be in the military but you’re not a soldier anymore now that the war ended. You got yourself a new job and family, is what you’re saying.”

“Yes.”

“You’re sailing smoothly!”

“No.”

Even though I expressly tried to conclude it with good vibes, it was denied.

“I have many problems.” There was a slight creasing between Violet’s eyebrows. “I don’t yet know if I have the aptitude to be an Auto-Memories Doll... I was given a lady’s education and I have studied languages and other such things, but it is hard to say whether or not I can make effective use of that. I have retained the fighting power... but I am in a state where I do not know how to use it.” The tone of her voice faded a little at the end.

“How are you working like that now?” I asked purely out of concern. After all, she was an Auto-Memories Doll.

I came across all sorts of clients, but she was my first Auto-Memories Doll one. It was a job in which people used ghostwriting as their weapon and rushed around the world. I heard there were many women in that occupation, but I never thought a girl as old as me would be doing it. She could very well be writing for a princess from some other country while I was here, rowing a boat.

“Letters have standard sentences. In most cases, if we add the desired content to those standard sentences that we have memorized, they will take form.”

“Hm, hm, I see.”

“However, it cannot be said that letter you wished to write so much to the point of requesting an Auto-Memories Doll was achieved with this. If we cannot correspond to the expectations, we are failures as tools. Therefore, we are once entrusted with the request’s contents, suggest a few types of details, choose the best ones and accept additional demands, should there be any... then repeat. There are also times when my abilities are not enough...”

“You mean contents you can’t write?”

“Any sort of letter can be shaped to a certain extent as long as there is time. It is a combination, after all. However, I am not well-versed in the art of conversation that entertains people. I am told that I am ‘boring’ or ‘unfriendly’ and am often dismissed by the clients.”

She somewhat convinced me. I was terribly sorry for that. But it might indeed be difficult for someone to feel like composing a letter in a fun way with her. If they were hiring her for serious contents, that was a different story.

“Moreover, we normally have to understand the circumstances that our clients are in... Let’s see; it is similar to, for example, approaching someone who is injured. I am supposed to write such letters, but I do not yet understand what a good letter is. It is hard for me to say that I can manage it... In the end, I do not know if I have aptitude to be an Auto-Memories Doll. I am always asking myself whether or not it is all right for me to work in these conditions.”

Perhaps due to thinking a tad too hard, Violet said something incomprehensible – that “it would be much more efficient if our company’s president became an Auto-Memories Doll”. Wasn’t a president supposed to take care of the management?

But, surely... for Violet to be saying something like that about him, he had to be the kind of person who excelled at being considerate.

With the flow of the conversation, I tried asking what I was most interested in, “W-What do you do about love letters and the like?”

“Love letters?”

“Yes.”

It was a field of great concern for someone who had never had any sort of relation with it since birth.

“That is also a combination. You throw in verses from famous poems or songs... Classic romance novels are valuable reference materials as have quite a lot of rhetoric.”

As I received an answer much more direct than I had imagined, almost like boiled vegetables with no taste but their own, my shoulders dropped. I had expected her to reply that she used her own love experiences as reference, but Violet was an extremely serious bookworm. I was a bit ashamed of myself.

I then started the conversation over, “Must be hard that your first job is kind of all about stuff you’re not good at.”

As I said so, Violet dropped her gaze and spoke, “No, we have a bright female Auto-Memories Doll who is the complete opposite of me, so she is put in charge of cases like the ones I just mentioned. In contrast, a large number of transcription cases that are not letters but instead invoices and contract documents, or that require fast writing, come to me. Describing exactly what I see is my field of expertise.”

“I see; it’s a matter of having the right person in the right place. Your boss’s administration is good. So you’ve been managing it one way or another until now.”

“Yes. But this is my first business trip for ghostwriting.”

“F-First!” I accidentally let out a loud voice.

“Yes, my first.”

This girl was on her first ghostwriting business trip. I was sending her on a boat for that. It somewhat felt like I was involved with an awfully grandiose story, which made my heart race.

“Gets you nervous, doesn’t it?” I sought for agreement, but the one feeling nervous was me. “Will you be okay?”

But Violet did not seem to be okay.

“On ghostwriting business trips, the task is to finish it on the spot, and you must respond immediately. I cannot use the means that I have been using until now, such as taking time to write or securing time by cutting sleep and eating short.”

That may have been the reason for her aspect of weariness. Still, I was shocked. When we, boaters, did not want to take our boats out, we would refuse rides even if there were clients. It was a job where we had to have customers, but we decided the discretion on our own. I did not let the ones with a bad attitude on my boat ever again even if they asked. Above all, not eating was impossible. No one could row a boat if they were hungry or sleepy.

“You have to eat... Isn’t that the most important? And you have to sleep too!”

“The most important is accomplishing my missions.”

I could somewhat understand why this girl’s boss was so concerned about her. Since she was an ex-soldier, she was unable to get used to a peaceful life, and the job she had earned required a variety of emotions that did not fit her, so she was competing with knowledge and effort to make up for it. Talk about dangerous.

“But taking care of your health is also part of work.”

Violet cast down her golden eyelashes. What I said probably made her think.

“As I thought, I was better off as a soldier,” she whispered this bit by bit, out of the blue. As she caressed her emerald brooch, she fixed on it a stare that seemed to be burning.

“How come?”

“When I was in the military... all I had to do was chase after one person and protect him. I was always searching for an adult to follow.”

How was I supposed to describe this girl?

“I found myself the best master of all and used to live my life serving him.”

Rather than sincere, she was too candid. Almost like, yes, a child who knew nothing.

“It would have been great if it were like that forever.”

That was why, most likely...

“So he was someone important to you.”

...she honestly thought as much.

“More than anything.”

Her words probably held no lies.

“That’s good.”

She truly was currently apart from someone important to her and losing heart.

“But the war ended and everything changed. Things are different now. I have been separated from my master, and I must journey around the world all by myself with words and pens as my weapons.”

My country was a prosperous land that had not involved itself with the Continental War. Ever since I was born, I had never once enlisted. I had nothing to respond to her statements. That even though I had nosily asked so many questions – what a person I was.

“Erm... hum, can I say something?”

I wanted to cheer her up. But I had no idea how.

As I faltered, Violet shook her head. “I am sorry...”

She started apologizing for some reason, making me even more confused.

“I spoke too much. Forgive me for... tainting your ears.”

“Why? You didn’t do that at all.”

“I am told not to talk in too much detail about my history.”

“I-Isn’t it okay, though?”

“I must do as told.”

“But—”

“My deepest apologies. I said things that could disrupt you while you are in the middle of work.”

“B-But—”

“My deepest apologies.”

“Isn’t it okay?! You and I are just a customer and boater who can’t see each other anywhere but here!” again, I spoke loudly on accident.

I became a bit flustered. After all, she was apologizing. Even though she was just answering my insistent questions. Even though she was burdened with so much that she wound up unintentionally spilling it to a stranger like me.

“After you get out of this boat, we have no way of knowing what will happen to each other. So please never mind it.”

It was because I asked so persistently that the things she had been holding overflowed.

“It’s all good.”

There was something I could say exactly because I was a boater of a remote region.

“It’s all right,” I affirmed strongly, wanting to do something about those wavering eyes and her aspect of uncertainty. I might have been huffing fiercely too.

Violet looked at me with a gaze that looked like she had just woken up from a dream. And then she nodded with a meek face. “Yes.” Even though she had just nodded once, after a few tens of seconds later, she nodded again while saying, “Yes.”

After that, we eventually reached the shore without talking much.

From what I had heard, Violet’s patron was Mr. Lockhart, an elderly man famous for being rich even within his community. He was already quite old, so it was said that he did not have long.

“You go straight down the road. You should be able to see the village after a while, and Mr. Lockhart’s mansion is the one on highest ground. It has a white roof. The neighbor houses are all extravagant too, so don’t mistake it.”

“All right.”

“On the way back! If you also feel like going back together, look for me!”

“Yes, Mr. Valentine.”

Perhaps because I had asked for it, Violet actually did look for and called out to me as her ride for the way back. Maybe as I had listened to her life story, it kind of did not feel like we were strangers anymore.

After I intimidated and dispersed the other boatmen trying to take her as their customer, I asked, “How was the job? Did it go well?”

“I do not know.”

Silence.

“At first, he yelled at me, then crumpled the letters I wrote into balls one after another and tossed them away.”

“That’s horrible.”

“But once I presented improvement suggestions twenty-three times, he said he had ‘been defeated by my persistence’ and accepted the ghostwriting.”

“Ms. Violet, you actually have a strong competitive spirit, don’t you?”

Later on, according to what I had heard from people of his neighborhood, Mr. Lockhart was a mean geezer who, apparently high-strung from fighting against a disease, would hire people in order to bully them into quitting. My goodness. He was the type of person whom I would not want to associate myself with even once, so I guessed the fact that Violet would not have to deal with him anymore after just this one time was a blessing in disguise.

However, a few months thereafter...

“I will be ghostwriting a letter to Mr. Lockhart’s grandchild for a few months.”

...she showed up again holding a travel bag in one hand and reunited with me. Our interactions continued from that point onward.

I did not know what to name my involvement with Violet. We were not friends. We only ever met due to occupational matters and I never saw Violet other than when she came over for work.

“How did things go after that? Is business going well? We’re in the off season now, so I’m pretty free.”

“It seems that people of the postal industry are seeking not to take work away from those of the same line of business. We, Auto-Memories Dolls, usually receive work from the area surrounding our companies, but the number of business trips is increasing. However, it is hard to say if we are on track. Our president looks over his account book every day.”

As we were both from the hospitality businesses, we had worries in common. So I was also happy.

“My wallet gets really empty in the off season too. Well, I can live just fine with the amount I save up in spring... but I have to find a different job when I want something pricey.”

“A different job. Mr. Valentine, for how many years have you been a boater?”

I reminded myself of my ordinary life’s number of years and work history inside my head.

“Erm, I’ve been rowing for two years. But before that, I was something like a handyman, working in an orchard, taking care of other people’s babies, doing cleaning and washing, running errands and being an apprentice at a restaurant’s kitchen.”

“That is a wide variety.”

“My family’s poor. Dad and Mom are gambling addicts too... We’re so poor that we can’t survive without all of us working. I was eight when they told me I had to get a job because our finances weren’t going well.”

“That is commendable for someone so young.”

“No, Ms. Violet, you’re probably as old as me, right? Eh, how old are you?”

Perhaps she and I really did have a karmic connection, as I was always working whenever she came to these lands.

“Ms. Violet! If it isn’t Ms. Violet...!”

“Mr. Valentine. I was looking for you.”

“M-Me?”

“Yes. You told me to ask for you the first time we rode. I did this last time as well. Will you take out your boat today?”

“Of course! C-Can I ask again? You were looking for me?”

“Yes.”

“I’m so happy! Same for me! I wonder every day if you’re coming anytime soon... Now, now, customer! Please get onto the boat! Go ahead, go ahead. I have tons of things I want to tell you! I see~! So you were looking for me~!”

“Yes, I was.”

The air about her was like that of a tensely stretched thread, yet as time went by, she became able to show different facial expressions.

“You can’t smile?”

“No. I cannot say I have complaints about it, but... I receive such opinions from the clients quite frequently. For now, I am making physical attempts on it. Mr. Lockhart often lifts my cheeks. He tells me to practice. Yet... it does not work very well.”

“That old man is teaching you weird stuff... It’s the first time I’ve ever seen someone pick their cheeks up to form a smile.”

“Mr. Valentine... you excel at smiling. Do you have any trick for it?”

“Eh~, I’m just being carefree.”

“That is difficult for me.”

“Hm~, but that’s a secret of success.”

“‘Secret of success’...”

“This place is a dock, after all. For a kid like me to be working among men, I at least have to be good at acting friendly, or else I can’t survive.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. That’s why this is something I’ve ingrained in me. Ms. Violet, you’re an ex-soldier, aren’t you? You couldn’t be carefree in the battlefield, so there is no helping that, right?”

“But... that has nothing to do with my clients.”

“Hm~, trying to be better is never too much, but from my standpoint as someone who is also in the hospitality business, I don’t think that is completely indispensable. We give the clients what they seek and they pay the fee. It is essentially this kind of equal relationship. You do not have to abase yourself more than necessary. Customers naturally come to people that do a fine job even if they are unsociable.”

“Is that so...?”

“It is. Someone who instead is friendly but can’t do the job at all is a problem. The fact that you became Mr. Lockhart’s purveyor means you write good letters. It seems he is very particular about his own matters. Y’know, you’re fit for people like that.”

“If so, that is good.”

“Don’t make that face. Shall I lift your cheeks?”

The things we had to talk about with each other whenever we met increased exactly because we were far apart from one another.

“Speaking of which, you are looking for someone, right? Did you find any clues?”

Our respective circumstances slipped in and out of sight.

“No...”

“But Auto-Memories Dolls have to go to all sorts of places, so there is still hope.”

“Yes. I also think that is the good point of being an Auto-Memories Doll.”

“That so...? Ms. Violet, did you choose to be an Auto-Memories Doll to search for someone?”

“No, perhaps I should say it is wishful thinking. I do not truly believe that I can find him. However...”

By that time, I had realized what the brooch was.

“...I can keep on living while thinking ‘what if’. That is the kind of job it is.”

That it was something related to the important person she had mentioned.

“Is that so...?” while speaking with a laidback voice, I incidentally thought about what that would be in my case.

What was I attached to enough that I would be this obsessed over it?

“You’re the opposite of me. I’m waiting for my family here.”

——If I do have any of that, it’d be the boat my dad used to ride.

“Do you live far away from each other?”

——The house that we all lived in together.

“Huuum... How should I put it? I was sent out to a different town for domestic service when I was eight... and I was completely convinced that my parents and older brother were living here.”

None of what I was attached to was things that could remain in my grasp. It was this land itself.

“When I came back, there was only our house. My family wasn’t in it.”

It was not something I could walk around with.

“They might’ve moved somewhere else... because they hated life here.”

Violet did not frown or make a puzzled face. She just quietly lent me an ear.

“I ran away from the place where I was doing domestic service, so I guess I missed their notice. I think they are troubled now. That they are looking for me. I also want them to come pick me up, but they never do...”

I myself understood. I knew I was saying odd stuff. Weird, wasn’t it? I was aware. If she called me crazy, it would be just the expected.

“Mr. Valentine, should you not be looking for them?”

That question gouged out just a little bit of the weakest part of my heart. Yes, just a little. It pierced me exactly because the person who asked it had stood up from her suffering and was running onward.

“If I leave this place, it’d be a problem...”

But Violet did not say I was wrong at all.

“It be a problem if, by any chance, my brother – no, either Dad or Mom decided to come back...”

She merely whispered a single sentence: “understood”.

Before I realized, I had started looking for her at the dock.

——Is she coming today? Not yet? She might come tomorrow.

“It’s been a while...! Has anything changed? We got to meet again because Mr. Lockhart is still alive, huh.”

“It has. Just that the personnel at my workplace increased again. Mr. Lockhart’s voice is so lively when he is angry that one would not imagine he has a disease. Mr. Valentine, what about you...?”

“Y’see, I’ve been going to study lately! I was influenced by you. I can read easy words, but I never went to school, so I’m bad at writing.”

“I could not write either. However, it should be all right as long as you practice.”

“I don’t have enough paper to practice writing, so I’ve been writing on the ground with a stick these days.”

“If you wish, please use these.”

“Eh, what are those? T-They look expensive. I can’t.”

“I also received paper and pens from someone just like this and began my studies. You can.”

“N-No can do! I can’t get something like that from my customer...!”

“You can.”

As the seasons passed, as the days and months went by, her aspect of anxiousness from when we first met diminished. She steadily built up a record of accomplishments as an Auto-Memories Doll.

“That umbrella is cute. It looks good with your clothes.”

“It is a gift. I also... find it adorable.”

“Is that a passionate request for a relationship from your client?”

“No, that is not it. This is a display of gratitude for my work from Mr. Oscar, the novelist...”

Much faster than I had imagined, yet surely, she was elegantly climbing up that brilliant stairway.

“Heeh, a novelist. I don’t know much about him, but that’s amazing. You might be working at some royal palace one of these days!”

“I have.”

“Eh?”

“I have. I wrote love letters on behalf of a princess from a country named Drossel.”

She became someone well-known around the neighborhood in no time.

How should I describe her vigor? Was “forceful enough to knock down birds in flight” too weird? She was an irresistible force that people were drawn to en masse. Somehow or other, she made a great leap in a blink of life.

Her popularity attracted more popularity, and it was amazing that her work had developed so much. There were such people at the dock too, but this could not be achieved without effort. But it did not look like there were ambitions or dreams to Violet’s efforts. Dream chasers had different eyes than ordinary people. She... her blue eyes were as quiet as a midwinter sea no matter in what season I peeked into them.

Her gaze made it seem like she was looking at me from a different world. As if she were staring up at everything from the bottom of the ocean. Yes, it was that kind of look.

She was there, yet was not. Her blue eyes were mirrors that made me feel like I was looking at myself before realizing it, when I was supposed to be looking at her. She herself was also this sort of person, with an attitude as if her mind was elsewhere.

Her fame... if I were to use a metaphor, she was a broken doll who got praised as a result of single-mindedly working on repeat. That was how it seemed in my eyes. Awful way of saying it, huh? But the Violet Evergarden I had first met had been hurt. She was just a hurt girl.

So I was honestly surprised. Because, at first, she didn’t look at all like a girl who would rush up into Auto-Memories Doll stardom from that point. Yes, she did not.

That might be due to the way we met. If I had met the current Violet instead, I would surely have thought, “Such a full-fledged Auto-Memories Doll”. But although she was indeed an eccentric girl, she did not look like that to me. To me... To me, she looked like nothing but a girl from the same generation as myself, stagnated in a world that she was tossed into. An uneasy girl, who had just started working. The type that definitely could be found anywhere all around the world.

One that was also similar to me. From that day, at that time.

“Dad, Mom, Big Bro, where are you?”

She was like me back when I was at a loss as I decided to live by myself.

With the passing years, Violet Evergarden had bloomed to the world into a marvelous lady before I even knew. Just as her name suggested, she was a girl who had blossomed beautifully.

No matter what, I ended up comparing her with myself... Even though we were reuniting after a long while, even though I was happy, I felt too sad for some reason and wound up saying lots of lame things.

“Ms. Violet... you kind of became an unreachable person all of a sudden, huh.”

It was because, even though I had supposedly lived just like her in the same four seasons and the same time that she had rushed through, I was still an insignificant boater.

“My company is still based in Leidenschaftlich, just as before.”

“No, I wasn’t talking in terms of physical distance. It’s... a spiritual thing.”

Silence.

“You really are admirable. You know, when I think that you’re doing such an amazing job while I’m here, boating without a care in the world... it’s like...”

“Mr. Valentine, you are also working every day.”

“It’s not like boating is a bad job or anything.”

I also didn’t think there was high or low when it came to occupations. Yet I would end up comparing them.

“I quite enjoy it. Rowing the boat, that is. But somehow... like... when I look at you, Ms. Violet... I think of myself. I wonder if I’m okay like this. Because surely, there should be something else I want to do.”

Silence.

“If only I could change myself too...”

“Mr. Valentine.”

“Yes?”

“I felt that we have become closer than back when we first met.”

“Eh?”

I was in shock. Because I thought she wasn’t the kind of person to say something like that.

What did people call this?

“It became a habit for me to look for you immediately around here.”

Those words that were almost as if someone was nestling close to you.

“As you have let me on countless times, you have been recorded within me.”

No, that wasn’t it. It wasn’t that she didn’t say those things – she couldn’t say them. After all, Violet had told me when we first met. That she couldn’t write letters that felt like approaching someone who was injured.

“I see.”

She had been worried that she should leave it to someone else; that she wasn’t qualified.

“Have we become far apart?”

Yet she had become able to do it. By practicing a lot. Involving herself with people.

“Mr. Valentine, you always find me as well. Whenever I arrive here, instantly.”

This girl had become able to do what she was worst at.

“Yep.”

But even now, it didn’t change that she would touch her emerald brooch when she was uncertain.

“Have we...”

“We haven’t...! Sorry. I’m sure I could spot you even if we passed each other in a different city... Sorry, it’s just... wrong. I was wrong...”

Violet had grown up.

“Sorry...”

That day, when we first met, she had been fretting about being able to write letters that could draw close to someone. Having nurtured her heart through many people and a lot of time, she was now even able to say these kinds of things. This girl was properly fighting against the fate that she had been granted.

Aah, I wanted to be like Violet Evergarden.

I wanted to be like this girl. I really did.

I was still young. I could start over anywhere else. But I did not do that. I couldn’t throw away my family. I couldn’t. Ever thought about throwing your family away?

I... I had never.

Because it was family. People I shared my blood with. We were supposed to be together, right? Parents protecting their children and children yearning for their parents – that was the norm, wasn’t it? When I looked around me, that was what people were doing. Was it all lies?

Why, why didn’t my family manage to be normal? Why was normal so difficult for me? Because I was stupid?

I had gone to a stranger’s place when I was eight years old because my parents had told me to. I went with them as my parents said, “Go with this person to help them out; you’ll get payment for it”. I had the feeling that my parents had been smiling. My brother was the only one who had a serious look – no, he was making a face like he was about to cry as he pulled the sleeve of my clothes over and over. He used to be such a scary brother who was quick to hit me on the head and scold me, but only at that time did he exhaust himself from crying.

“You can’t, okay? Listen to what your Big Bro says. You can’t go to that place,” he had told me.

I remember being extremely perplexed. I only had the impression that my brother was always angry and hungry. He never behaved like he cherished me or anything of the sort. Honestly, I used to hate him.

“But they’ll be angry if I don’t do as they say.”

So I had shaken off the hands that were grasping my sleeve. The expression my brother had back then – those eyes looked like everything in front of him had transformed into rubble.

My brother had said one last time with a tearful voice, “Hey, you can’t; please... don’t go. I won’t hit you anymore, ‘kay? ‘Kay?”

Even so, I had not agreed. Because I was afraid that my parents would get mad.

I hadn’t seen my brother since. Thinking back on it now, he might have actually had affection for me.

As for my parents, had that been something they couldn’t avoid? I still didn’t know. But to put it bluntly, they had sold me.

It was not something so unusual. This area was remote, rural and still rooted in such customs. That might still be my case even now. I was living in a land I had once left, disguised so that no one would know it was me. It would be terrible if I were sold by someone again. So I had made myself up. An unknown boy who had showed up out of nowhere. An outsider who had arrived before anyone knew it. That was me.

I was a huge moron who couldn’t throw away her family even though they had thrown me away.

I ran away from the place I had been sold to after not even three days and, starting out as a beggar, I had saved up a sum in order to go back home. I did anything, from working at an orchard to taking care of other people’s babies, doing cleaning and washing, running errands and being an apprentice at a restaurant’s kitchen. Anything, as long as I could earn money.

I had been sold off to a pretty far-away place, so it took me a year to come back. I was making merry when returned home. About things being back to how they were before. About how my life had twisted a bit but it was back to how it used to be. My mother would surely be happy. She’d tell me I did a good job coming back home.

So, that was why... I even now vividly remembered the feeling of astonishment I had when I opened the door and the house was deserted.

“Dad, Mom, Big Bro,” I had whispered intermittently into the empty house.

There was no reply.

——Aah, so homes that people no longer live in also die, I thought.

I was the child from that day even now, standing stock-still.

“The hijacking case of the transcontinental train... The one on this picture looks like that girl, but she isn’t, right?”

While reading the newspaper that the customers had left behind as usual, I was relaxing at the dock.

The seasons had passed once again and autumn was about to end. Although the years were growing farther from the spring in which I had first met Violet, yet not a single thing had changed.

“Excuse me, are you doing boat rides?”

“Ah, yes. Thank you very much for your patronage today. I am the safest operator around here. Boater Valentine.”

Today, too, I was rowing a boat. That was all.

I would just wake up in the morning, eat, get the boat out, let the customers onto it, do my job, go back home and sleep. A repetition of that. Without anything special happening, without any wonderful encounters or opportunities, I was merely earning enough to eat and protecting my home. Sometimes, I would find myself thinking that I was the only one living this kind of daily life. I had been working since I was little, so I didn’t know how to play very well, and I had no one who was close to me other than Violet.

Even though Violet wasn’t my friend.

“Mr. Boater. Is there anywhere around here where I can have a meal?”

“There is, once you get on land. It might be unlike anything that someone from the big city such as yourself would eat, though... Now, then, be careful.”

Right. Just as she had once said, our relationship was of a boater and her customer, and we would not meet unless she came here for ghostwriting. She was an amazing person who roamed all around the globe and lived in a world completely different from mine.

While returning to the former shore after sending off the customer, I was thinking to myself. Was my life okay like this? I was here today yet again, without attempting to go to where the person that I wanted to be close to was. Even if I used the entirety of the notebook that Violet had given me, I could not report this to her. Because I couldn’t leave my hometown.

“Mr. Valentine. Hello; it has been a while.”

It was a very beautiful morning that day. Illuminated by the Sun as it emerged from the clouds, drops of the rain that had fallen on the previous night were emitting a transparent shine. The person who had appeared in that stunning world was still a foreign body.

Fall just before winter approached. Violet Evergarden was not wearing her usual doll outfit, instead dressed in black. Black hat, black cape over a black dress, and while the suitcase, umbrella and emerald brooch were the same as ever, everything was pitch-black other than them. She was a black-clad Auto-Memories Doll.

As the wind blew, her clothes seemed to flutter in an unnatural manner on her left arm. The arm was gone. Only one of her arms was missing. She had told me somewhere along the way that they were prosthetics, but when seeing her figure without one of them like this, I felt the loss of it even though it was unrelated to me.

“He-llo... Uh, what’s up with... hum, your arm, your clothes and all that?”

It was almost like that kind of thing.

“You came just a while ago, right? The intervals are really close...”

Almost like someone’s funeral. I had never been to one, but I had observed it from the outside before.

Apparently, my questions had her at loss for a bit. After showing a thinkative countenance as from where to start explaining, Violet put her baggage on the ground and pointed at her left arm with her right hand.

“My arm broke. It is being repaired.”

Her artificial doll-like gestures that I had grown fond of before I realized and her clear voice were now turning into the main causes that made my heart restless.

“I can use the right one without any issues. It is inconvenient, but this will be solved eventually.”

I asked the reason behind it and if she had been involved in some sort of accident. Violet did not tell me the details of her situation. She gave a rare, faint smile, looking troubled.

“In the meantime we had not seen each other, truly, many things happened... However, today is not about me but about someone else. I was told he was famous around here, but have you not heard? He has passed away.”

There was only one person whose funeral Violet would be coming to this land for, dressed in mourning clothes. Her ghostwriting patron, Mr. Lockhart. That old man who people said was going to die, yet had always stayed alive.

“I... I don’t have much interaction with the townspeople... We’ve had heavy rain the past few days... and when I pushed myself to get the boat out, I caught a cold... so I shut myself at home... and didn’t see any of my boatmen friends...”

I came up with reasons one after another as if to give an excuse. Even though I hadn’t done anything bad.

“It seems the funeral is already over. The people from that household contacted me, so I came in a hurry.”

“To visit his... grave?”

“That as well, but I also ghostwrote his will on his own request... and it seems there was a dispute among his relatives when the will was opened. They said they want me to confirm if there was really no mistake in the contents...”

I wondered what in the will had aroused the general criticism. Violet did not tell me, as she could not reveal the contents of her contractor’s letters, but when it came to problems that happened after a wealthy elder died, it had to be the inheritance.

“It simply means that the will is just like Mr. Lockhart. This is all I can say.”

So the mean geezer was mean until the end and then left.

“S-So, Ms. Violet, you’re about to get yourself involved in that big quarrel?”

“Yes.”

“Could it be it’s your last ride on this boat...?”

“Mr. Valentine, if you are still here by then, I shall go back with you as well.”

“I-I’ll be. I won’t take any other customers today and I’ll be waiting for you on the other side of the river!”

“I think I will take very long.”

“That’s okay... I mean—!”

——I won’t get to see you anymore, right?

There was a knot in my throat because of the sadness, so I could not say these words. But I believed they had reached Violet. She said “all right” after a pause.

And so, I sent Violet to the household’s side of the shore. As I had declared, I did not take on other customers, only waited for Violet.

She did say that a lot had happened to her, but if the essence of what she had experienced, which she could only express with that much, was enough for her to lose an arm, then surely there should still be a commotion around her right now. Poor Violet. Honestly, Mr. Lockhart was a client who gave Violet trouble from start to finish.

Still, if it weren’t for that troublesome client, Violet and I wouldn’t have met. We also wouldn’t have had that accumulation of interaction time as the seasons passed.

“You should’ve lived longer,” I whispered selfishly. My pathetic voice was mixed with whining.

I was a horrible person.

To think I would complain about the time that someone I didn’t even know so well should die. But now, my heart felt like it would break. My composure was gone. That was why my tongue was so nasty.

I did predict that we would become unable to see each other one day like this. I did, yet I had thought it would be a gentler end. More different, more...

Yes, one day. One day, just as I had suddenly become unable to see my parents and brother, Violet would stop coming here. But I couldn’t leave this place, so I would keep standing at the dock, thinking that there might be a day where she would come by.

From the viewpoint of other people, they may think this was sad, but to me, it was an ending that still had salvation and hope to it...

I hadn’t imagined that she herself would tell me this was probably the last time. Besides, to think that my chest would feel so tight just because I was no longer going to see a customer that I only saw every now and then.

I was an idiot.

Yes, I wasn’t good in the head. I was sensitive to the subtleties of other people’s emotions despite not bringing them to life in me. Yet I was insensitive when it came to myself, so I was only able to notice things when they started hurting like this.

“I-I...”

Surely, I was all on my own because I was this much of a fool.

“I’m gonna be alone...” the words overflowed from be in a natural manner.

——Be quiet. Don’t cry. It’s like the way you’d cry as a kid.

“Ugh... fu-uh...”

I was happy. That Violet had hired me and would come to ride on my boat.

“I don’t want that... Again... I’ll be...”

I was waiting here. For someone to remember me and come see me. For them to look for me. I was living by expecting nothing but that.

Same for Violet. She was someone from my generation, who had been tossed into the world all of a sudden. She wanted to search for her important person, for him to find her – she was that kind of girl. But she was doing her best to live. She really did her best, without losing to the unreasonableness of life.

As she grew, I saw her shining as an Auto-Memories Doll almost as if it were happening to a different version of myself. The fact she was doing her best was an encouragement. I thought of her as a comrade. Even though we weren’t friends, it felt like we were.

“Big Bro... when are you coming back...”

I was by myself here. So, before I noticed, my encounter with that girl had become salvation in my life. Because we were the same. Because we were both waiting for people who wouldn’t return.

It was okay even if it were just a few times per year. She had remembered and looked for me. To me, just that fact was, aah, so very...

“I am terribly sorry for being so late.”

I had departed with the boat in the morning, and it was past evening when the black-clad Auto-Memories Doll came back. She did not seem tired, but her voice was on the husky side, so she probably had to talk a lot.

“Good job... How did it go?”

I wanted to make it so that she wouldn’t find out that I had been crying, yet my voice was nasal and clearly an after-cry one. Amidst the sunset, Violet looked straight at me.

“Everything is well. Mr. Valentine, are you all right?”

I did not know, so I fell silent.

——I’ll let you on the boat now. And then, it’ll be the end. You won’t come see me anymore. I don’t know if that’s okay, or if I’m okay with it.

“Give me your hand; come on carefully. This is the time when the sunset and the evening are mixed, after all.”

As if to gloss over it, I conducted myself as merely a professional. Violet’s sense of balance was a bit off, perhaps because she only had her right arm. I helped her until she was seated, and then started rowing.

“It is my first time seeing the landscape at this hour.”

I nodded at Violet’s muttering.

Evening at the Jacaranda River was a sight that looked like a scarlet Sun had jumped onto the water surface. Both the sky and the river would paint themselves red, dyed in darkness before one could take notice. The birds cried as if to announce that it was already time to go home, the boatmen pulling out of work and returning to their houses. It was that kind of hour, that kind of scene.

As winter was about to come around, the trees were bare and most of the fallen leaves over the water had even their colors rusting away as well. There was nothing more fitting of a farewell day than such loneliness.

“Mr. Valentine, thank you very much for being here for me until today.”

Violet’s voice sounded softer than usual. Come to think of it, I felt that the air around her had somewhat changed. I had thought it was because of the mourning attire, but looking at her again like this now, I figured that was not it. Would it be an exaggeration to say that it was as if an evil spirit had been removed from her? She was different from before.

“From the start, for now, for always... thank you very much.”

Yes, back then, when we first met, Violet Evergarden was a beautiful wild beast that had been tossed into the world. She was nervous, wary of everything, unstable and acted kind of cold.

“It might be strange of me to be saying this to someone I only ever see here. But to me, Mr. Valentine, the fact that you let me ride on your boat whenever I come by...”

Yet, within a long time, she had gained warmth and transformed from a beast-like girl into an exquisite young woman.

“I... surely, yes, was ‘happy’ about it. I can now finally say so. Even if it is something trivial for you. I... can only meet you here, so when you said that I could talk to you, I was ‘happy’.”

——It’s over.

The scenery was too solitary. My chest tightened at the words she spoke within it.

“I was definitely not suited to be an Auto-Memories Doll. I did not have the gentleness to speak my mind without thinking as you do. However, you affirmed that someone like me had her good points.”

——It’s really over.

“In a world full of denial, it is difficult to affirm anything.”

——This is the end.

“That is what I think. There is much denial in this world. Affirming is difficult. But you did it for me.”

——Please, don’t say any more of these goodbye-like words.

“Thank you very much.”

——Don’t.

“I have one more thing I want to tell you.”

——I don’t want to hear them anymore.

“Mr. Valentine, I found the person I was looking for.”

——Stop.

“I found him. I discovered that there are many people in the world who are looking for someone they can no longer see.”

——My time with you is going on as you speak.

“I was told by many that it was foolish of me to wait for him.”

——My time with you is melting away.

“However, I followed my heart, which I did not even know I had.”

——It’s melting away like the foam on the surface of the water.

“Mr. Valentine, I support you always waiting here for someone from here onwards as well. Even if, by any chance, you decide to stop waiting and venture out of here, I will support this too.”

——I liked this purity of yours, as if you’re reflecting the other person.

“I assert your kindness. Because you asserted mine.”

——By sustaining you, I was able to sustain myself.

I let out a scream. Yes, I was bawling. For me to be crying while rowing, I was disqualified as a boater. But Violet did not judge me.

After wiping my tears with the sleeves of my clothes several times, I began rowing again. I had only ever done anything while crying when I was a child.

“Dad, Mom, Big Bro.”

The time when I went searching, calling each of them, in my hometown by the Jacaranda River felt like it had been just a few days ago.

“Violet, don’t forget me,” I said as I cried, looking like an idiot.

“Yes. Mr. Valentine, you said this would be the last time, but I will pay a visit if I receive any jobs to do nearby.”

“That’s a lie...! Countless of my customers have said that... but nobody... nobody... nobody cares about...”

“I support you. This is no lie.”

“It is... It’s just flattery... I-I was... happy that you never forgot about me... but you soon will...”

The boat arrived at the dock almost as if colliding with it. The impact caused the tears to fall from my eyes like rain.

“Sorry; just go.”

I crouched on top of the boat. Aah, I had to help Violet get down. Night was coming. I should not be stalling in a place like this.

I was just a boater and this girl was just my customer. We would end here. It was over.

“I learned that having someone to accept you is important.”

I had to wipe my tears and see her off.

“Even if you cannot see them all the time. Mr. Valentine, if I was a bother to you, please know this.”

I felt the sensation of the only arm that Violet now had touching my back. I turned away from it.

We had met each other in this severe world. A world that I hated. I also hated my life.

But, aah, my God. Even when such cruel sorrow attacked me like that...

“There is an Auto-Memories Doll somewhere in the world who accepts you. Please be aware of this.”

——...the world is beautiful.

As she added a “that is not a lie”, I felt like I would end up waiting for her who knows how many years with just that sentence, so I found myself smiling. My foolishness and Violet’s kindness – those two things made me both cry and laugh.

At the end, we joined hands like little kids. I helped her out of the boat and did not let go after that.

“So it’s not a lie? You won’t forget me?”

“It is not. I will not. I have good memory.”

“Some-Someday...”

“Yes.”

“If I become someone capable of going to see you someday, will you accept me? Wouldn’t I be a bother? I... Y-Y’know, I... actually wanted to be friends with you. Not just a boater and her customer...”

“Yes, I will.”

“But I can’t right away. I have a family... I don’t, but I do.”

“Yes.”

“But, one day... one day...”

“Yes, one day.”

“Surely, on a really nice day for us to reunite...”

“Yes, it will definitely be a good day.”

“Let’s meet again one day, Violet Evergarden.”

After that, just as Violet had somehow changed, so did I. Just as snow covered the autumn lands, the silver make-up melted down before anyone realized and young leaves sprouted from it, I also changed.

It was during spring that this was decisive. As expected, for one to start something, it had to be in spring.

Purple flower petals scattered down on the Jacaranda River. I was simply looking at the scenery in a daze. The harbor was crowded with customers. Even though I was a boater and there were several customers wanting a ride, I was using the boat only for myself, not letting anyone hop in. Without paying any attention to my fellow boatmen, who stared at me with strange looks, I merely observed the entirety of this landscape, so as to sear it into my eyes.

My beautiful hometown. A hometown of which I only had memories sad enough to pierce through my chest. A hometown where no one would look for me anymore. A hometown that surely none of them would ever come back to.

The fact that Violet would not come this year gave me a sensation akin to waking up from a dream. As if my hazy head was clearing up, such change came to me.

——Let’s throw it away.

It was then that I thought at last.

——I’ll throw my family away.

That was what I thought.

The reason why I was clinging to this place was that my family might come back someday. I had to return, I had to stay here, or else I was sure they would be troubled if any of them came home. Because it had troubled me. It had made me cry. So I should be here, I thought.

Even though they didn’t give me love, I loved my family.

——But I’ll throw it away.

I was finally able to think like that. As I did so, tears poured down.

I had taken a long time to arrive to this decision, which was a merciless one, and I was a horrible person who surely wouldn’t die a peaceful death and would, as expected, keep on living like this, without being loved by anybody.

But I was going to do it. I was going to throw my family away.

After all, even if the people who were supposed to love me did not, she existed in my world. Somewhere in this world, there was an Auto-Memories Doll who accepted me. So instead of waiting for someone who would never come home, I should take a leap. Because I wasn’t an eight-year-old kid anymore and could go anywhere.

I rowed my boat. Not for anyone else. For the sake of going out into my new journey.

What should I do? When I thought about what to do first, as expected, that girl surfaced in the depths of my mind. The girl I had seen off while praying, “Wait for me”.

The dark red ribbons tying her golden hair. The pleats on her white ribbon-tie dress. The light blue umbrella. As if playing around, all of these things fluttered in the wind.

It was okay for me to go looking for them from now. It was okay.

——Wait for me.

My chest was quivering. Starting life anew was common place, but now that it was my turn, I was shaking. It was hard to breathe from the fear and expectations. Flowers from jacaranda trees were blocking my field of vision, and although their beauty erased everything that could be seen, they were nothing but a hindrance now. What I yearned for wasn’t them.

What I wished to see – the purple I wanted to meet once again – was no longer this one.

——Please, wait for me.

Tears welled up. I didn’t know whether they were tears of sadness, relief or frustration. I didn’t know anything anymore. The feeling I had wasted so much of my life and the feeling that I had finally gotten to this point were in conflict.

I didn’t want to abandon my family. I didn’t.

But the truth is that I’d always wanted to. Aah, I was such an idiot, such a confusing one.

That was fine. I didn’t understand myself very well either. I didn’t. I didn’t understand anything anymore. What was I doing? I didn’t know. Surely, I had never known. I didn’t even know that I was hurting.

But there was just one thing.

——Wait.

One thing I knew. When it came to things I knew, there was but one.

That I felt so refreshed I shouted to the world without minding anyone, “Violet, wait for me!”

I was going to see her, so I wished she wouldn’t forget me. That was it.

That was all.

Blue eyes opened.

The train had arrived in the city. While the passengers got off in a hurry, a blue-eyed girl was neatly smoothing down the wrinkles on her ribbon-tie dress before gracefully descending to the platform.

She did not act as if looking for someone or show any signs of losing her way. Her figure as she simply walked straight to her destination was almost like that of a mechanical doll. Surely, she would not do things such as be surprised by something or run towards someone upon finding them. That was how she looked.

The perfectly lady-like girl, however, went completely still in the middle of the crowded platform all of a sudden. Her blue eyes had detected something. Upon finding that person, she blinked as if surprised, and then bolted into a run. The hem of her skirt spread out in disarray. The ribbons keeping her golden hair in place swayed.

As she had started running, the other person also pushed through the crowd and came closer. Three, five, ten steps. She, who had broken into a dash, halted exactly in front of him, yet the other did not.

“Violet, welcome home.”

He held her in his arms and buried his face into her shoulder. Her beloved one, whom she had not seen in a while, tickled her with his nose as he sniffed the scent of her hair. He must have been at the platform for a long time. His cold clothes and his body heat conveyed his desire to see her.

“Major, I am back. I did not know you would come pick me up.”

Having changed from a beast into a person, from a person into a girl and then into someone’s biggest love, Violet accepted the embrace of the other person without resistance.

“I am happy.”

Something gradually rushed through her body. It was the sensation that “joy”, “love” and other such feelings had turned into light and were running from the tips of her toenails to the top of her head.

The young woman who used not to know emotions was now in love.

One could spot other charming lovers here and there. Therefore, even as the Army Colonel of this country, Leidenschaftlich, and an Auto-Memories Doll were hugging each other, no one paid them any mind. The intimate figures of both those two and the other lovers were a common sight. If one were to unravel their history, this was a strange pair born through twists and turns, but in everyday life, it was just a part of the scenery.

“Violet. Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. Did you say anything?”

Due to Gilbert hugging her tightly, Violet’s remark was processed simply as an incomprehensible something, but she did not care.

“No, it was nothing much. I have returned, Major.”

“Sorry. Yeah, welcome back, Violet... Did I tell you I wanted to see you?”

“Yes, just now.”

“I heard from Hodgins about when you were scheduled to come back... Tired, are you? I have a carriage waiting so that we can hurry home.”

“Major, what about work...?”

“I came after finishing it. I had to force myself but I have no plans more important than you.”

“Then, can we be together for a little bit as the carriage rides?”

“If you’re okay with it, I can send you to the Evergarden house after we have a meal.”

Gilbert took Violet’s eyes going round as a sign of acceptance. He took Violet’s bag in her stead and, in a natural manner, found himself grasping the hand that had become empty. As he held her hand, Violet moved her gaze fleetingly. She started blinking again upon looking at the two joined hands.

“Major, Major.”

Subsequent to their reunion during the hijacking case of the transcontinental train, the two had confirmed their feelings after the CH Postal Company attack incident and started a new, albeit awkward, relationship.

“What is it?”

“I almost look like a child.”

She indeed was like a child in love.

“Because we’re holding hands?”

“Yes; I would never get lost here, in Leidenschaftlich. You did use to hold my hand before, but... now...”

It was a bit lacking for an army colonel who was past his thirties, but if one were to say that it was fitting of modest people such as these two, it indeed was.

“I’d like you to keep in mind that lovers also hold hands, Violet.”

“Is that so...? Indeed, looking around, there are many people doing this.”

“You had told me you understood... so I perceived us as lovers; was I wrong?”

“N-Not at all.”

“Then, in order to strengthen that perception... let’s change the way we’re holding hands.”

Just by the hold changing into one in which their fingers intertwined, Violet went from just a girl being taken away to a lady being escorted. Violet blinked again. Ever since their romance had come to fruition, each of Violet’s reactions entertained Gilbert, to which he let show a smile that he could not hold back.

“I’ll be happy if, one day, you take my hand without saying anything when I hold out my arm.”

“I need training, Major.”

“Kukuh... That so? Then let’s do it, Violet.”

As the novice couple left the platform, yet another train arrived.

While Violet and Gilbert walked amidst the crowd, a different pair passed right by their side. The young woman was quite a lustrous, beautiful person, whom one could tell was of noble birth. The individual walking with a hand rested on her shoulder as if to protect her from the crowd was an androgynous beauty with unusual silver hair.

Cut short, his platinum-blond hair bore the kind of exquisiteness that looked like it would make chiming sounds as he walked. His jacket, shirt and pants were finely tailored ones. He no longer resembled at all the navigator who used to row a boat in the past.

Feeling as if an old acquaintance had passed by, Valentine halted for a moment.

“What is the matter, Rose?”

Upon being called, Valentine immediately resumed walking with a “nothing”. It was not permissible to stop in the general area of a packed entrance.

“Madam... I had this feeling that the girl I am looking for was here.”

Looking for someone all by themselves. Those two had this point in common.

“Violet Evergarden? That’s right; you will be living as an Auto-Memories Doll in the same city as her. It would not be strange if she did pass by. You will meet that girl someday. And one day – one day, you might also get to see the older brother that you told me about. After all, miracles happen every day.”

However, they had still not realized that the gears of their fates were not yet aligned.

Rose Valentine gave a smile with a “yes, Madam”. “To me, Madam, you are the miracle.”

“Why, my rose does not say such things.”

Rose’s flank was hit rather strongly, but although it actually hurt, the smile did not falter. This was also one of his secrets to success.

“Speaking of which, the Auto-Memories Doll school was truly difficult. I am grateful to Madam for sending me to it, though...”

“Oh, but you have come back as a gentleman who has become able to escort me naturally like this, so it has brought results.”

Rose’s amber eyes widened beneath silver lashes. They reflected his madam’s mischievous facial expression. Rose’s smile collapsed a little and turned into a strained laugh.

“Madam, I managed to deceive people in the past because I used to wear a hat to hide my face, but... can I really do this? Also, does this not mean that I will have to deceive all the other employees and customers?”

There was something he had not told Violet Evergarden. Violet Evergarden was a mysterious girl to him as well, but there was not that great a difference between her and himself.

“I left my hometown in order to start my own life for real, and yet...”

He – no, she was going to begin a new life in this city starting from today. Not just as “Valentine” but as “Rose Valentine”.

The madam of the S.W. (Scarlet Winter) Letter-Specialized Shop, which would later make a name for itself as a unique postal company that mostly employed male Auto-Memories Dolls, replied with an alluring smile.

If there were goodbyes, there had to be encounters. And if there were ends, there had to be beginnings.

“We will not deceive them. You will properly sell yourself as Rose Valentine, the crossdressing beauty, from the very start. We sell a hundred different types of letters, stationery, envelopes. And also the caring customer service from charming young men who have some sort of sparkle to them. There is no mistaking that this will be as addicting as high-grade drinks. It’s exactly because this business is full of women that a shop full of men will shine. Is this discrimination? Are you discriminating against me, Rose?!”

Good endings and bad endings – life went on with both included.

“Haah... But I’m a woman. No, I might be almost a man since I’ve lived most of my life tricking people about my gender...”

“That’s what’s good about it!”

“Haah...”

It looked like an eternity but was not, yet on it went.

“Your boyish side and your original girl side. I recruited you taking them into account. Be at ease. You can sell. You can. After all, there is no other such Auto-Memories Doll.”

“Haah...”

“Don’t ‘haah’ me. Geez... my lovely rose. Worry not. Have I ever lied to you?”

The story would go on. Cruel as the world might be, beautiful moments would come by again.

“It has still not been that long since I first met you... so, I would not know, Madam.”

Morning would come as long as you were there. Such was how stories were made.

#violet evergarden #fyeahvioletevergarden #violet evergarden ever after #kyoani #kyoto animation #akatsuki kana #gilbert bougainvillea #rose valentine #novel #my translation

376 notes · View notes

lunarmessenger · 4 years

Note

Hi!!!!!!!! I just love jealous RFA so what their (plus minor duo but only if it’s not too much) reaction would be if girl confessed and they thought it’d be for RFA but turns out it’s for MC? And I love your chibi drawings that’s so precious >~<

Ohho, aren’t you precious? I actually love this concept omg thank you so much for your request!! Sorry it took me a bit to get it written out ;;; - luna xx

warnings: none really? just a bit of jealousy and possessiveness haha

Zen:

• He’s literally so butt hurt

• He’s so used to admirers swarming the two of you to get his autograph or try to pine for his number

• While he gladly gives autographs for fans and even pictures, he always respectfully declined those who asked for his number

• He just loved seeing the slight tint of red on your cheeks when you got jealous and that’s why he wasn’t normally so forceful of telling other people no when they asked for his number

• Until one day you had went to go grab some water during one of Zen’s breaks at rehearsal

• One of his coworkers, a beautiful woman with long black hair and the perfect figure strolled up she reminded him a bit of Jumin honestly

• He was actually a little nervous to tell her no because he didn’t want to cause a scene but he would do it for you because he loves you

• So he begrudgingly held out his hand and she plops a piece of paper into it, a smirk on her face as he takes a deep breath

• “Look, I know that you and I work together but that doesn’t mean I’m available—”

• “Tell them that when they’re done with you, they should give me a call.”

• That’s when it clicks for him as he notices the way her dark eyes loom over your approaching figure, her tongue licking her lips as she winks at him then walks away

• He’s so infuriated that it hurts

• “Everything okay, Zen?”

• He rips the paper into so many pieces you didn’t even think that was possible

• “How about you go home, MC; I’ll tell you about it later.”

• You laughed for ages and teased him about it for weeks because, well

• “You’re not the only hot one in this relationship, Zen.”

Yoosung

• He’s always super bashful when girls in his class try to ask him out because he rarely finds himself attractive

• You were the same in a way; you were more confident than him, but still shy when people complimented you

• So while the two of you are on his campus, you holding flashcards in front of him to help him study

• You started to smile at a girl that approached the two of you, cheeks blazing pink as she stuttered over her words

• Her blue eyes were wide as she tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, looking as if she was taking deep breaths to calm herself

• “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’ve seen you both around for a while, and I just…well…”

• Yoosung turns just as pink, brows furrowing as he stutters over his words too

• “I appreciate it but I am taken!”

• For a moment the girl furrows her brows in confusion, adjusting the straps of her backpack as she tilts her head

• “Um…okay? Anyway, I think you’re really attractive and so; please accept my letter!”

• Both of your jaws drop as she kneels down and hands the letter towards you, hands trembling as you take it and nod

• “Aha, um…thank you?”

• She scurries off before you can even turn it over, and when you do you see your name written in beautiful penmanship surrounded by hearts

• Before you can even open it, Yoosung has snatched it out of your hands

• “Wha—Yoosung!”

• His purple eyes were clouded with anger as he rips it to shreds, an almost growl escaping his lips as he grunts

• “You’re mine. No need to read this letter when it’s gonna end up in the trash.”

• You couldn’t help but laugh at his possessiveness, tackling him in a hug and peppering his face with kisses as you shook your head.

• “What am I going to do with you?”

Jaehee

• She’s not the jealous type usually

• Like you can mention in passing that you were hit on and it won’t phase her a bit

• When it happens in front of her though? That’s a bit different;;;;

• Men tend to hit on the both of you often so that doesn’t phase her much but when it’s women?? Uh oh

• A really sweet woman was frequenting the bakery often; she would always get the same treat and the same drink, sitting at a table by the window

• She was quite pretty; short curly hair and tanned skin that had been specially kissed by the sun

• Jaehee was making the coffee for the next order when you’d gone to check on every table, stopping at hers and asking if she’d like another

• “No, thank you but…I was wondering. Would you like to go out for dinner some time?”

• Before you’d had a chance to respond you heard the sound of ceramic crashing, the mug Jaehee was holding now in pieces on the floor as she looked in your direction

• “Ah, while I’m flattered, I do have a girlfriend…;;;”

• The woman was understanding, putting two and two together as Jaehee rushed to pick up the mug and stomped into the back area

• “Jaehee! Jae, omg why are you so mad please—”

• “Because you’re my partner and how dare she think for a second that—”

• You interrupted her with a kiss and that shut her up quickly

• “You should be possessive more often. I actually like it…”

• “Shut up, MC.”

Jumin

• He has plenty of women in the business world that try to win his heart even though you’ve already done that lol

• So he’s actually quite surprised when you join him for a business meeting and he notices one of the women staring at you

• It’s so painfully obvious he’s actually offended that she isn’t hiding it

• She peers up at you through her bangs that frame her face, short hair styled perfectly as she leans back in her office chair

• Jumin couldn’t even focus and in minutes the meeting was over and she was instantly at your side

• “What?” He’s stunned, watching as she gently takes your hand in hers and kisses it

• “I’ve heard plenty about you, MC. While I’m sure Jumin appreciates you as a business asset, I would love to get to know you on a more personal level.”

• He is livid

• Before you can respond he’s wrapped an arm around you and snatched you away from her, a smirk on her face as he frowns at her

• “I’d appreciate if you let their hand go. We have business to tend to; at home. Come along, MC.”

• “Jumin oh—” He has you pressed so close to him that you can smell his cologne, your face flushed from embarrassment as she grins

• “It was nice meeting you!”

• Jumin scoffs as he escorts you out of the meeting room

• You’re shocked; he’s never lost control like that, not even when men would make passes at you during events or dinner parties

• “So, what was that?”

• “We will not be discussing this, MC. Now, would you like French, or Italian for lunch?”

• You grin as you get in the elevator with him, pressing a small kiss to his cheek

• “No matter what, Jumin. You’re the one for me.”

707

• He makes so many jokes about the women that fawn over him that he too his stunned when a woman confesses their love for you

• It was during an RFA party, and you’d worn a particularly flattering outfit that accentuated all the right places

• He was watching you from afar when he noticed a woman with equal beauty walk up to you, long blonde hair and brown eyes drinking you in as she slightly leaned against you

• “Oh, it looks like I’ve had too much to drink; maybe you’d like to take me home? I’ve been an admirer of yours for a while…”

• You’re so embarrassed that you don’t know what to say; a clutter of “ums” and “uhs” leaving your mouth as you tried to make sure she didn’t fall

• With you holding her up it gave her a chance to press against you even more so much so that you could feel and see most of her chest oh god Saeyoung help me

• “Oh~ I am also way too drunk and love showing off my boobs to make people like me!”

• You immediately drop the woman in shock when you see your boyfriend waltzing towards you in a dress, a long red wig swishing behind him as he lands on you

• It couldn’t be helped; you were laughing so hard that you nearly fell over, Saeyoung grinning as he sneered at the woman who looked at the two of you in confusion

• “Wait…what?”

• “Oh! I’m sorry miss um, but uh, this is my boyfriend—”

• “Who happily takes them home every night so if you’d please let us be that would be the most polite!” He says in a sing song voice, placing a hand on your chest as you snort

• You’d never seen a woman walk away so fast in your life

• “Good riddance…how classless.”

• “Saeyoung you literally put on a dress just to be petty.”

• “That’s different MC.”

• He receives admirers from all over who adore mainly his work; and it doubles when they realize how handsome the painter is

• During an exhibition he’d gathered a rather large crowd, mostly women which wasn’t surprising

• It didn’t bother you much; you trusted V, and he always made it clear that he was happy in his relationship with you to all of the women who tried to grow close to him

• You’d gone to a different section of the gallery to take a minute to yourself, staring at V’s painting of you that he’d done with a fond smile

• “While he is talented, he surely will never be able to capture the beauty of the real thing.”

• You turned your head in surprise to see a woman staring at you, red lips and sharp green eyes piercing as she held out a glass of champagne towards you

• “Oh, well um…thank you.”

• “Of course. I understand the appeal to him but…I like to think that his partner is much more enticing.”

• You couldn’t help but blush as you stared at your bubbling champagne

• Then, the familiar smell of lavender and cedar danced across your nose, your head turning to see V approaching

• “You’re absolutely right, miss. They are the most enticing, and that’s why I made them mine. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

• He plucks the champagne out of your hand and places it on the bench beside you, whisking you away while the woman pouts and hurries off

• “Um, V?”

• He hides the two of you in a dark hallway, closed off from the gallery as he presses you against the wall

• “I don’t know how you do this all the time MC; that was painful for me to see. Promise me that I’m the only one you’ll ever look at?”

• You giggle as you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pressing your forehead against his as you whisper

• “I promise. She’s no match for you, my love.”

• He seals the promise with a kiss, savoring your taste as he breathes out

• “Let’s just stay like this for a little longer…”

Saeran

• He’s so shy already that when he receives confessions from women he literally shuts down

• It’s even worse when women confess their love to you like what???

• He understands because he’s knows that you’re beautiful and that you’re such an amazing person

• But you’re also his like excuse me?

• You’re enjoying your lunch in the park that you always take once a week

• You were sketching in your journal while he explained the different plants you were seeing; it was one of your favorite pass times to do before it got too late

• The two of you were unaware that your sketching and laughter had gained the attention of another, who was working up the courage to confess

• She’d finally gained said courage, walking up with a brand new journal as she cleared her throat

• “Um…excuse me?”

• You both turned your eyes towards her, freckles dotting her shy face as she handed the book to you

• “I always see you drawing and, well, you’re really good. So I wanted you to have this.”

• You were shocked; such kindness from a stranger. But this was a gift you couldn’t accept.

• “Oh, thank you so much! But I can’t accept this, really because—”

• “Because I am their boyfriend.” You didn’t expect him to speak up, head snapping towards him in surprise

• He wasn’t angry just more apologetic; he’d experienced the same fear of rejection when he was pursuing you and he knew that what she was feeling wasn’t good

• “Oh, I see. Okay. Well, I’ll leave you two alone then.”

• She walked away dejected while he reached for your hand

• “I think I’ve just experienced jealousy and I didn’t like it much.”

• You giggled, resting your head in his lap as you looked at him

• “You handled it graciously, darling. Let’s enjoy the sun then head home.”

198 notes · View notes

heylors · 3 years

Text

The one where Harry Styles and Taylor Swift reunited at the GRAMMYs 2021.

I just wanna taste it, I just wanna taste it Watermelon Sugar high Watermelon Sugar–

And the applause of the small crowd echoed in the studio they were in. It was ten seconds of clapping for Harry Styles who just opened the GRAMMYS with his hit single that is nominated for tonight. He bowed and fixed his hair while appreciating the cheers for him.

After his performance, he made a quick change and wore a custom made Gucci outfit with a fuzzy purple boa wrapped around his neck. He took photographs for the red carpet before proceeding to his seat.

After twenty minutes of waiting, the program resumed with the host presenting Taylor Swift to perform.

His heart suddenly started to beat faster than it did when he was opening up the GRAMMYS as soon as he saw his old flame on the big screen performing her song, Cardigan.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite.

She then continued her performance by singing August and Willow.

Harry was able to sing along throughout the performance since he tried listening to Folklore. He's been always so amazed by how Taylor writes her lyrics and how she puts melodies into it. He remembers how she wrote 'Style' where she stated that he really got that James Dean daydream like... who writes like that? Who compliments their exes like THAT?

He was also stunned on how she wrote the bridge of Out of the Woods and how she narrated the downfall of their relationship in just a span of 20 seconds.

Taylor did the same thing as Harry after performing. She changed her wardrobe after going back to her seat with Jack and Aaron.

While waiting for the program to resume, her eyes explored the tent where a lot of nominated artists are seated but as soon as she laid her eyes to the man who inspired the album that was awarded AOTY last 2016, it never left.

She smiled behind her mask. She remembers how Harry would talk about how cool it is if he wins an award for himself back in 2012. She knew he was so passionate as her on writing songs about his feelings and seeing him 9 years later, nominated for the same categories with her at the GRAMMYS, is something that makes her feel cozy at some point.

Harry gazed at her the same time Taylor was gazing at him. His green and her ocean blue eyes collided once again after years of not seeing each other.

They both squinted and knew they both lowkey smiled at each other since their masks were covering their mouths.

After the quick intimate staring, they both looked at different ways and made themselves busy but they couldn't deny the fact that memories from the past starts to linger in their heads.

Before they can even zone out from their reality, the program resumed and they were about to announce the winner for Best Pop Solo Performance where they are both nominated.

While they are showing the nominees, Harry kept looking at Taylor's direction because he knows that she's gonna get the GRAMMY and didn't even thought of winning it for himself. He's already too grateful to be nominated alongside his ex and other wonderful artists.

Taylor on the other side is hoping for her old flame to win knowing how much it would mean to him plus, she knows he deserves it.

"And the GRAMMY goes to...."

"Harry Styles." Taylor breathed.

"Cardigan." Harry sighed.

"Watermelon Sugar, Harry Styles!"

Taylor smiled and stood up before anyone else. Even before Harry.

She clapped and looked at his direction. She starts nodding as if she was saying "Well deserved, Lad. Well deserved."

Harry proceed to give his acceptance speech for his first ever GRAMMY which he only dreamt of having. He grabbed the trophy and put it back seconds after holding it.

"Wow, erm..." He sighed before continuing his speech. He couldn't believe it, and the thought of winning something from a prestigious award show couldn't sink in that quick.

Taylor's watching him from her seat and couldn't help but to grin behind her mask all throughout his speech. She could tell that he's nervous because he speaks too fast and he kept looking down.

"All of these songs are fucking massive." Harry said and took a quick glance to Taylor so they made another eye contact.

"I feel honored to be among all of you so thank you so much." This time, Harry's eyes were locked in to Taylor and she didn't even looked away. She's just so proud of him and how far he's made.

Harry made his way out after giving his speech but he forgets to take his GRAMMY with him which made Taylor giggled.

Harry took some quick photographs backstage with his achievement and the thought of winning against those artists is still not sinking in for him. He went back to his seat since he's nominated for two more categories where in one of them, he's nominated alongside Taylor again.

It was time to announce the winner for Best Pop Vocal Album so Taylor and Harry made themselves comfortable in their seats since this is a big category to win.

Taylor was sort of anxious because out of six nominations for Folklore, she won nothing since the pre-show. This is her second to the last nomination.

Though she was worried about it, a part of her didn't care about the awards because she didn't even think of winning awards for the album that she only wrote to keep herself busy and to entertain her fans during the lockdown.

"And the GRAMMY goes to... Future Nostalgia, Dua Lipa!"

Taylor as well as Harry clapped and stood up for their good friend. Despite of not winning 5/6 of her nominations tonight, Taylor remained calmed and enjoyed the rest of their evening.

As soon as Dua ended her acceptance speech, Harry took a quick glanced at Taylor who's also applauding for her.

He's thinking of approaching her before he gets out of the tent since he's not nominated for anything already. A little catch up wouldn't hurt anybody aye?

After the cameras stopped rolling, Harry stood up and talked to some artists in the room before walking towards Taylor to start a conversation.

"Hey, good to see you." Harry greeted Aaron Dessner as soon as he reached their table, "Congratulations on your nominations. Folklore deserved!"

Aaron congratulated Harry too for winning his first GRAMMY.

"Thanks! I couldn't believe it either." He then turn his attention to Taylor who's sitting on her chair, listening to their conversation.

"Great performance by the way." He looks down to her and started the conversation.

Taylor stood up so she would be on the same level as him, "Thank you! Did you see it?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah."

"We were like so nervous because its the first time we played on National TV." She explained.

"Yeah, it was great." Harry responded.

It felt like it was 2012 all over again but everything's not out of place, and there's no trace of uncertainty. He could tell that Taylor is in a very grounded, and stable life which he failed to give when they were in a relationship. She looked as beautiful as the day that he lost her.

He always imagined that they would be standing here, talking to each other about how great life is going on for the both of them. After what they had in the past, Taylor was something for him. She will always have this piece of him that she didn't know she holds.

December 2012 ( I highly recommend to play Unchained Melody by The Righteous Brothers while reading this part. )

"Help me move this one, Babe." Taylor asked his boyfriend a favor as she holds a side of her couch.

"Let me do it. I workout for you, you know." Harry flexed his muscles and winked at Taylor before holding the other side of the couch.

"With your clumsy ass? Yeah right." Taylor chuckled and rolled her eyes. Harry mocked her accent which made Taylor giggle.

"Let's just move the furnitures please? So we could dance."

After they moved some tables and upholstered piece of furnitures, Harry puts on The Righteous Brothers' vinyl record and Unchained Melody starts playing.

He walked towards Taylor who's waiting for him at the middle of her apartment.

He holds her tight like it was the last time because he knows deeply that this is soon gonna last considering that their relationship is very fragile and tentative.

They swayed slowly to the music with their eyes closed, feeling each others' heartbeat.

"I wish we could stay like this forever." Taylor whispered.

Harry rubs her back because he knows she's tearing up, "I always pray for it, baby."

After seconds of silence, she spoke again but this time with her voice cracking.

"Do you think we'll make it?" Taylor.

"We'll make it right?" She continued.

Harry sighed and responded, "Of course, we'll make it."

He kissed her temple and hugged her as she starts to sob. She held him tighter than she ever did before, knowing that it could be the last time she'll be holding the love of her life.

"Well, its great to see you!" Harry tries to end the conversation since he still has things to do backstage.

"It's great to see you too, Haz." She tilted her head and flashed a smile at him.

He bids goodbye to Taylor and the others who were at the table and then proceeds backstage. He wouldn't be there when they would announce the Album of the Year but he is certain that Taylor is going to get it. He is so sure that he already have a draft of a congratulation-text for her.

Taylor watches Harry walk away and realizations just hit her on the spot.

They made it.

Separately.

But they still made it.

and she's happy for that.

She considered Harry as someone who would interrupt her wedding because he believes that it isn't over yet. That it should be him that she must marry.

Nine years later, she still considers him who would still go to his wedding but to not interrupt it. He would be there with a date on his arm, a date he loves truly because he found his person too. He would give a beautiful toast about love and growth... about relationships that are meant to be and relationships that are meant to send you on a path of change.

They will share a dance where he kisses her on her forehead just like what they did back in December of 2012.

He'll tell her that he is proud of her, of them, and of their history and she's thankful to hear that from him.

She's been thinking about the hearts she's broken on her journey here, and he tells her his heart was broken but it taught him about himself in only the way your first love can.

Taylor tells him she really loves this person he is with and he tells her that he's been planning to propose and a year later, she's at his wedding giving a toast about love that's meant to be and love that helps you grow.

"And the GRAMMY goes to... Folklore, Taylor Swift!"

Harry flashed a grin as he watches Taylor makes history for being the first woman to win Album of the Year three times from the television backstage.

"Joe.." Taylor let out a sigh of relief as she thanks his boyfriend.

"Who is the first person that I play every single song that I write and I had the best time writing songs with you in quarantine."

And when I walked up to the podium, I didn't forgot to say your name.

And on her way home to her boyfriend, her phone lits up with a message notification from someone she knew and might really never forget as long as she lives.

From: unknown

Congratulations! I knew you would make history. You deserve it, Taylah.

Send my regards to Joe, I would love to meet the lad someday.

All the love, H.

___

#haylor #taylor swift #harry styles #haylor fic #haylor au #grammys2021 #haylor 2021 #grammys #au #fanfiction #just wrote what i wondered happened that day where we all died dead on the spot

60 notes · View notes

queenxxxsupreme · 3 years

Note

I was wondering if you could write something with a plus sized reader? It can be any of the witchers and/or Jaskier (although I think esk, lam, & jask would work best). Can be more focused on them finding the reader attractive/hot? I see lots of fics and headcannons abt plus size readers that are all about insecurities and finding the reader beautiful and aethestically pleasing. I'm plus size and I think I am beautiful, just not... attractive. looking hot and looking pretty/beautiful are different. idk if that makes sense I just want someone to think I'm hot. It can be NSFW or funny and fluffy. if you aren't comfortable writing this that's cool too. I just really like your writing. You have created a really welcoming community/page and I felt comfortable enough asking. I appreciate it so much. Thank you. 💜

A/N: I love this ask!!! Though I’m not sure I followed the prompt properly…. :( I wanted to do Lambert very badly which is part of the reason why it took so long to do but I couldn’t make it work with the prompt so I ended up doing Jaskier. I hope you liked it babe!

Warnings: no smut but Jaskier is a cheeky bastard and suggests NSFW 18+ things so if you aren’t into that please don’t read! also mentions of poor self image but Jaskier makes it better

***

You watched the tailor and seamstress murmur to each other in a language you didn’t understand. The seamstress said something, gesturing to the skirt you wore. Then she looked back at the tailor who shook his head disapprovingly.

Their eyes seemed to drill holes into you. You suddenly felt so stupid for letting Jaskier talk you into coming to this expensive shop to be professionally fitted for a dress to match his outfit for the gala in two nights.

But he was just so excited about the gala. It was the first time you’d be meeting the famed Geralt of Rivia as well as a few of Jaskier’s other friends he had met on his journeys with the witcher.

You felt saddened that he was so eager to take you to the gala. Surely you'd only make him look like a fool in front of his friends and comrades.

“Dear? Are you listening?” Jaskier placed his hand on the back of your calf as he moved around the stool you were balanced upon.

You brought your eyes down to him.

“Hm? Oh, erm, yes. Of course, I-I was.”

He frowned.

“No, you’ve got something else on your mind. What is it?”

You shook your head, smoothing out the material to your dress.

“Nothing, Jask. It’s fine.”

“Tell me, please.” He reached up to take your hand in his, brushing his thumb along your knuckles.

You kept your eyes on him for a few moments before looking in the direction of the seamstress and tailor. They no longer looked at you but they were still gesturing in your direction.

“It’s just silly, Jaskier.” You shook your head.

“You look upset, darling. It’s not silly if it’s upsetting you. Step down for a second, my sweet.” Jaskier held your hand as you stepped down from the stool. He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, looking at you with furrowed brows. “Please tell me. Did something happen?”

You shook your head, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“Can you understand what they’re saying?”

“Of course.” Jaskier nodded. “They’re talking about putting ruffles in your skirt. Alma thinks a few would be a good idea to add some at the bottom but Derion is completely against the very thought of ruffles.”

You could practically feel the weight lift off of your shoulders. You almost laughed.

“Really?”

“I know. I don’t think ruffles are a good idea, but Alma is an incredibly talented seamstress. She has an eye for creating beauties. But sadly ruffles will not be happening today.” Jaskier waved the two over. “With all do respect to you, darling Alma, I think we should pass on the ruffles this time.”

“Bastard.” Alma swatted her hand in his direction.

“Let’s move on from the skirt.” Derion waved his hand dismissively. “For the bust. It’s the most important part. It will take Alma hours to bead together intricate detailing to match your doublet, Master Julian. She needs to know how you’d like it done in order to begin working.”

“Right.” Jaskier placed his hand on the small of your back. “I’m thinking a rather cheeky neckline. Perhaps an off the shoulder neckline that goes a little deeper than what’s traditionally seen.”

“Jaskier!” Your cheeks flushed as you looked at him.

“Darling, it will be absolutely fantastic! Show a bit of your chest off! Show everyone how sexy you are.”

“Jaskier.”

“It appears as though you have yet to come to an agreement on a top.” Derion spoke, looking between you two. “When my lady decides on what style of top she’d like, please do let us know. Until then, Alma, let’s continue with the skirt while they chat.”

You watched the two move towards the desk off to the side of the room.

“Jaskier–,”

“Just picture this, my love.” Jaskier cut you off, his hand leaving your back as he moved to stand in front of you. “The corset is supporting your bust, holding the girls up and putting them on display–,”

“For the entire gala to see?” You widened your eyes. “What are you trying to do? Make your friends think I’m some strumpet?”

“No! No! Of course not! I think you’d look sexy like that.” Jaskier put his hand on your hip. “And the corset will accentuate your figure–,”

“The figure I don’t have.” You turned away from him, making your way towards the chairs that sat near the windows. You were thankful the curtains were drawn. This gave you some privacy from the outside world.

“What? That’s ridiculous. You have a figure. A marvelous one at that.” Jaskier followed behind you.

“I have the same figure as an apple, Jaskier. Or a pumkin. Round and-and large and just.... There’s nothing you should be so eager to show off at the gala.” You sat down in one of the seats, your voice quivering as you fought to keep your emotions at bay.

Jaskier knelt down in front of you, his hands taking yours in his own. His touch, calloused from years of playing instruments, was warm as he gave you a squeeze.

He didn’t know what to say at first. He was upset with himself for having not noticed that you were uncomfortable earlier. He was upset with himself for making you uncomfortable.

“Love-,”

“And don’t- Jaskier, please don’t try to tell me I’m not.” You whispered, unable to meet his gaze as tears blurred your vision. “I know I am. If you deny it, it’ll be like denying that the sky is blue or that-that grass is green.”

Jaskier nodded softly, understanding your words. He let the silence sit between you for a few more moments. He reached up to wipe your cheeks. Then he moved to sit in the seat next to you, keeping your hands in his.

“You know, my favorite shade of blue is just after the sun sets.” He murmured. “It’s dark and it’s ominous, but it’s stunning to see planets begin to show even though the sun hasn’t set yet. It’s like they’re beginning to come out of hiding. And my favorite shade of green is much more specific than that. Do you remember that time we laid in the lupin field just outside of Cintra all day?”

“Of course I remember that.” You sniffled, a little smile coming to your lips. “You read and sang to me all day. It was a beautiful day.”

“That day is my favorite shade of green.” Jaskier rubbed the back of your hand. He leaned in to kiss the corner of your eye. “And that night…. That night was when I realized my favorite shade of blue, you know?”

Your heart began to race a little quicker. That evening in the lupine field had been rather romantic and intimate. It was one of your favorite memories with the bard.

Jaskier took a deep breath, looking across the room to the seamstress and tailor for a moment to make sure they were occupied with something else.

“Dear heart, you know I would make sure the dress they create makes you look nothing short of the goddess you are.”

“I-I don’t…. I don’t have that same faith, Jaskier.” You shook your head, looking away from him to one of the paintings on the wall. It was of a beautiful woman in a stunning violet dress. She was thinner than you and the dress she wore made sure to show what curves she had off.

“You don’t have faith in me?” He asked softly.

“I don’t have faith in myself. You keep saying I’m going to look sexy and that you want to put me on display-,”

“Y/N, I was only joking. I’m so sorry if it made you uncomfortable. I meant absolutely no harm by it.” Jaskier put his hand on your knee. “I just- My gods, Y/N. The very idea of you in the dress I envision. Everyone is going to be fucking staring. On second thought, perhaps it wouldn’t be a good idea to put you in a dress similar to that. In the off chance that I’d be able to take my eyes off of you, I’d have to fight anyone who dared to look at you.”

He wore the biggest grin on his lips and you knew he meant well by it. He really did. But your stomach churned at the thought.

“They’ll be staring because I’ll look absolutely ridiculous.” You turned your head away from him. “Ladies like me weren’t made for galas and ballgowns.”

“I happen to think you are perfect for a ballgown, my dear.” He leaned over to kiss your ear. “I know you don’t see it, but you are absolutely sexy. Hell, if I had a say in it, you wouldn’t even be wearing a gown. But there are going to be other people there and I can’t have anyone else seeing your gorgeous body.”

Your cheeks flushed.

“Can I offer you a little deal? A peace treaty?” Jaskier suggested. You looked at him, meeting his blue gaze. “They have a dress cut similar to the one I’d like to be made for you. Can you try it on for me before we make any decisions today?”

You nodded your head, letting out a little breath. You would at least try it on and let him see how ridiculous you’d look. If you proved him wrong now, maybe he’d listen to you in the future.

“Will it fit me?”

“They can make it work for you so you can at least get an idea of the style.”

“Okay.”

“Excellent.” He gave you a kiss on the temple before going across the room to Alma and Derion. He spoke to them in the language you didn’t know. It was a beautiful language. As he said the words he had the ability to make it sound otherworldly. How could one man, a human no less, make words sound angelic?

Derion and Alma left the room together. Jaskier clasped his hands behind his back, leaned forward to watch where they had disappeared. Alma returned moments later alone. In her hands she held a dress.

The dress was dark green but that was all you could tell.

“I’ll give you a moment to get dressed. Take good care of her, Alma.”

“I will. You worry about yourself, Master Julian.” Alma waved him away.

You wanted to object, to say that you could get dressed by yourself, but you knew very well you wouldn’t be able to. You didn’t want to rip the dress. The material was probably more expensive than you could afford.

“Take off your dress, darling.” Alma placed the dress over a nearby chair. “I’ll grab pins so that we can pin the dress in place.”

“Pin?” You repeated. “In place?”

“Yes, darling. It wasn’t made for your body. We need to make the dress work for your figure so we do that by manipulating the fabric with pins. Don’t worry, you won’t feel a thing.”

***

Alma called for Jaskier after the dress was situated properly on you.

You nervously moved back and forth as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other to get a better look in the mirror.

The dress fit you decently. It was loose fitting in the chest but Alma fixed that with pins. She pinned a few other spots too but they were in the back so you couldn’t see all that well.

The material was a beautiful emerald green silk with darker green embroidery around the bust. The off the shoulder neckline wasn’t terribly low in the middle where it dipped down, but it was lower cut than what you would usually wear.

“Now remember, darling. The corset will be tighter on you and be providing support.” Alma spoke as she moved around the stool you were resting on.

“My gods, Y/N! I love it!” Jaskier clapped his hands together. “Just wait until we get it in the blue to match my doublet!”

“Alma!” Derion called for Alma.

Alma excused herself, leaving you alone with Jaskier.

He moved around the stool, admiring the dress on you.

“Before I lose myself in my own thoughts, love, what do you think?” Jasier clasped his hands together and held them near his mouth.

You looked back to the mirror, shifting a little.

“I don’t…. hate it as much as I thought I would.” You admitted.

“But do you like it? Are you comfortable with the style? Be completely honest with my, darling. If you aren’t, there is no worry at all! I’ll have them make a style you are comfortable in. I want you to be comfortable first. No matter what you wear you will be absolutely gorgeous and breathtaking and I will be ripping the dress off of you come the end of the night.”

“Jaskier.” You scolded. He gave you a cheeky smile. “I do like the cut and I like the off the shoulder part, but perhaps if we could add sleeves to it?”

“Of course! Oh that would be stunning! I’ll let Alma and Derion know. Anything else you want to add or take away?”

“I don’t think so.” You looked back to the mirror. “I think I’ll like it more once it’s in the blue. I do like the green, but the blue will match your doublet for the gala. And the green makes me sort of feel like a melon.”

Jaskier frowned.

“I wish you’d stop comparing yourself to fruits.”

“Would you rather a toad? ‘Cause I look like one of those in this dark green too. A rather large toad.”

“If you are a toad, then what would that make me?” He held his hand out for you so he could assist you in stepping down from the stool.

“My pretty princess.” You giggled.

“Hmm. Well you are the sexiest toad I have ever seen.” He pulled you into his arms. “But I rather like calling you a fruit. You taste just like one-,”

“Jaskier!”

Taglist: @pressedinthepages @mishafaye @whitewolfandthefox @wolfyland07 @belalugosisdead @persephonehemingway @keira-hulmaster @dinonuggs69 @greatestauthorofmygeneration @shadow-hunters-lover @dancingwith-thesunflowers @tedi-fach-las @thecomfortofoldstorries @natkowaa @disasteren @weathervanes-my-oneandlonely @onlyhenrys @wackylurker @criminaly-supernatural @magpie343 @permanently-exhausted-witcher @genderfluid-ho @the-space-between-heartbeats @havenoffandoms @carriebee1 @ger-bearofrivia @naominami @writingawaymylife @reaganjenelle @theawkwardpedestrian @scarlettwitcher @badassspaceprincess @just-a-sad-donut @summersong69 @an--actual--human--disaster @rubyqueen819 @omgkatinka @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @vonxcon @mazakeen @bravelittlesunflower @thereagles @awkward-turtles-world @menalliha @cotton_mo @maan24 @thefirelordm @monkeymo @krenee1drful @nympha-door-a @unadulteratedtreecrusade @Aquarius-pisces-rose @mentallyscreamingsincebirth @fl0ating @sometimesiwrite @you-fxcking-wish-bish @thanks-bruh-for-nothing @maan2442 @thegaydeath @creatingstuffinpeace @wellthisstinks @andyrazzledazzle @ameliasmistake @winterwolf @caraqas @bluscryn @thefirelordm @y-napotat @henrycavillbesty @ta-ka-shi-ma @sulkyshengshou @spaced-out-state @thecollection @mayday1284 @babietrain @wandering-poetess @redneckstrash

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

40 notes · View notes

pop-pop-pop-popculture · 2 years

Text

2022 MET Gala Red Carpet Review

“In America: An Anthology of Fashion > Gilded Glamour” is the theme.

Camila Mendes: 👍🏽 - I love her makeup, hair, and dress!

Priscilla Presley (a.k.a. Elvis Presley’s WIFE!): No comment.

Maggie Rogers: 👎🏽 (Whoever did her hair and styled her must hate her...)

Agnes Chu: 👎🏽 - The dress and lipstick color are pretty...

Paapa Essiedu: 👍🏽 - I don’t see what his outfit has to do with ‘Gilded Glamour’, but I’m not mad. I like the necklace, color of the garments, and the pants.

Ariana DeBose: 👍🏽

Regé-Jean Page: 👎🏽 - Extremely handsome, though!

Lori Harvey: Elegant, but not really in-theme.

LaQuan Smith: 👍🏽 - I love the silver blazer! You are looking super dapper, sir.

Questlove: No comment.

Anitta: 👍🏽

Patrick Schwarzenegger: 👍🏽 - I love the color palette.

Janelle Monáe: 👍🏽 - I really like the headpiece and the colors on it. The gown itself is pretty as well as the fabric, and it fits her so well.

Kaia Gerber: 👍🏽 - FUCKING NAILED IT! Her hair, makeup, and dress are so pretty!

Isabelle Boemeke: 👍🏽 - Her outfit, makeup, and hair are intriguing, that’s for sure. I like it!

Austin Butler: 👎🏽 - Too basic.

Andrew Saffir and Daniel Benedict: No comment.

Kelvin Harrison Jr.: Not a thumbs up or down, but I do like the pants and shoes...

Vanessa Nadal and Lin-Manuel Miranda: I love the purple, green, and yellow together; however, her outfit does not follow the theme. Lin just looks handsome as ever! These two win best couple of the night.

Tommy Dorfman: 👍🏽 - I love the shade of green and the dress itself.

Harris Dickinson: Eh...

Sabrina Carpenter: Eh...

Ben Platt: 👎🏽 - Too basic.

Kacey Musgraves: 👍🏽

Lisa Airan: Eh...

Kate Moss: Nice dress...

Samuelle Leibovitz and Annie Leibovitz: Sam’s gown is pretty, but that’s about it. As for Annie, ... what?

Tom Ford: 👎🏽 - Too basic.

Tommy Hilfiger: 👎🏽 - Too basic. I do love the velvet blue, though.

Dee Hilfiger: 👎🏽 - Too basic. Gorgeous shade of gold, though!

Hugh Jackman: 👎🏽 - Too basic, my Broadway king, but I still love you.

Deborra-Lee Furness: 👎🏽 - The gown is pretty, though.

Janicza Bravo: 👍🏽 - I love her eyeshadow and shoes the most, but the outfit is still nice.

Michaela Jaé Rodriguez: 👍🏽

Chloe Bailey: 👍🏽 - The creation of the dress is neat, and I love the piece around her neck.

Iris van Herpen: 👎🏽 - Too basic. (You go all out for your client(s), but not yourself?)

Franklin Leonard: Not a thumbs up or down, but 10 points to his stylist for being creative.

Autumn de Wilde: 👍🏽

Caroline Wozniacki: 👍🏽 - I love the different shades of blue and her hairstyle.

Adrienne Adams: Pretty dress and jewelry, but it’s still an ‘eh’ for me.

Amirah Kassem: 👍🏽 - She honestly looks like a goddess, and that shade of blue looks great on her.

Melissa King: I... I don’t know what to think...

Steven Kolb: 👎🏽 - Too basic, but I like the details on the jacket.

Blake Lively: 👍🏽 - Gorgeous gown(s) and overall look!

Ryan Reynolds: 👎🏽 - Too basic, but I like the fabric.

Ciara: 👍🏽

Anna Wintour: 👍🏽 - Lol... she would wear a tiara.

Meredith Winston: Not a thumbs up or down, but I like the fabric and creation of the dress.

Wendy Murdoch: 👍🏽

Fabiola Beracasa Beckman: Not a thumbs up or down, but the dress creation is stunning.

David Harbour and Lily Allen: Not a thumbs up or down, but I love the top hat and cane.

Andy Blankenbuehler: 👎🏽 - Too basic.

J Balvin: 👎🏽 - Too basic.

Naomi Campbell: I don’t know what to think...

Jeremy Strong: Eh...

Francesco Carrozzini: 👎🏽 - Too basic, but damn, he is fine. Also, kudos to his stylist for choosing a navy blue suit. Absolutely dapper, sir!

Bee Carrozzini: 👎🏽 - Gorgeous from head-to-toe and the fabric is pretty, but her look doesn’t intrigue me.

Gina Sanders: 👍🏽

Nicola Coughlan: 👍🏽

Maisie Williams: 👍🏽 - She just pulls goth off so well.

Irina Shayk: Girl, what?

Stormzy: The all-white is nice...

Miranda Kerr: Gorgeous, but she did not stay true to the theme.

Denée Benton: 👎🏽 - I love the jewelry and her makeup, though.

Elizabeth Cordry Shaffer: Not a thumbs up or down, but I love the black bows printed on the gown.

Camille Cotton: 👎🏽 - Lovely fabric, boring creation.

Willow Lindley: 👍🏽 - I love the colors and how abstract the print is. Simple yet elegant and eye-catching.

Mark Guiducci: 👎🏽 - Too basic.

Future: No comment.

Lenny Kravitz: No comment.

Eaddy Kiernan: 👎🏽 - Too basic, but the magenta and necklace are pretty.

Emma Chamberlain: 👍🏽 - I’m not a fan of her and still HIGHLY disagree with Anna’s moronic decision to invite influencers to prestigious events such as this one, but I like her overall look.

La La Anthony: 👍🏽 - I love the head-to-toe burgundy! Also, that hat (or headpiece?) is amazing. Kudos to her stylist!

Vanessa Hudgens: 👍🏽

Frederick Robertsson: 👍🏽👍🏽

Giveon: Not a thumbs up or thumbs down.

Hamish Bowles: Not a thumbs up or down, but I appreciate the use of props.

Lucy Boynton: 👍🏽

Brooklyn Beckham and Nicola Peltz: I love the head-to-toe white outfit for Brooklyn and the shade of pink on Nicole’s dress, but neither of them followed the theme.

Adwoa Aboah: I like the outfit, but it doesn’t feel in-theme to me.

Paloma Elsesser: Not a thumbs up or down. I don’t know what to think to be honest, but I’m not mad.

Awkwafina: Not a thumbs up or down. The colors are pretty and I love the dress itself (and the jewelry), but I feel it [the dress] doesn’t compliment her figure well.

Lily Aldridge: 👍🏽 - A little too simple, but I still like the outfit.

Alessandro Michele: Meh.

Jared Leto: Meh.

Sarah Jessica Parker: 👍🏽

Normani: 👍🏽

SZA: 👎🏽 - I love her outfit, though!

Dakota Johnson: 👎🏽

Karlie Kloss: 👍🏽 - Nailed it!

Joe Jonas and Sophie Turner: 👍🏽 - I don’t know what they were going for, but I love that they actually dressed up!

Jack Harlow: 👎🏽 - Too basic.

Bella Hadid: 👍🏽

Shawn Mendes: 👎🏽

Sydney Sweeney: Eh...

Sebastian Stan: 👎🏽 - I love the all-pink attire, but he did not follow the theme.

Anderson .Paak: 👍🏽

Michelle Yeoh: 👎🏽 - Too basic, but the shade of green is pretty. She looked great regardless!

Maude Apatow: 👍🏽

Evan Mock: 👍🏽 - I love the color in his hair and the use of pastel colors for his outfit.

Riz Ahmed: 👍🏽 - His outfit is a “homage to” “immigrant workers”. I like it!

Cynthia Erivo: 👍🏽

Emma Stone: 👎🏽 - Pretty yet basic-looking dress. You missed the assignment, my friend.

Julianne Moore: 👍🏽 - Her outfit was inspired Jacqueline Kennedy.

Alicia Keys: 👍🏽

Swizz Beatz: 👍🏽

Jon Batiste: 👎🏽 - Too basic.

Quannah Chasinghorse: 👍🏽

Rosalía: 👍🏽

Yahya Abdul-Mateen II: No comment.

Caroline Trentini: 👍🏽 - Absolutely gorgeous from head-to-toe! I love her hair.

Tracy Collins: Pretty dress...

Claire Danes: Not a thumbs up or down, but I like her outfit.

Winnie Harlow: 👍🏽

Hillary Clinton: Not a thumbs up or down, but the shade of red is pretty.

Kodi Smit-McPhee: 👎🏽

Renée Elise Goldsberry: 👎🏽- She looks pretty, though, and I like the dress.

Rachel Brosnahan: Not a thumbs up or down.

HoYeon Jung: Not a thumbs up or down, but she looks pretty. I like the jewelry and dress too.

Eiza González: 👍🏽

Rachel Smith: 👎🏽, but I like the dress.

Renate Reinsve: 👍🏽

Danai Gurira: The dress and shade of blue is pretty...

Gemma Chan: 👍🏽

Jasmine Tookes: 👍🏽 - That shade of green looks great on her!

Xiye Bastida: 👍🏽 - I love the outfit!

Huma Abedin: 👎🏽 - Too basic. Pretty shade, though.

Lisa Love: Eh...

Madelaine Petsch: 👍🏽

Louisa Jacobson: 👍🏽

Kiki Lane: Not a thumbs up or down. The dress is pretty, though!

Laura Harrier: 👍🏽

Gigi Hadid: 👍🏽 for being original...

Eric Adams: 👍🏽

Glenn Close: 👎🏽

Amy Schumer: 👎🏽 - Why did Anna invite her?!

Chloë Grace Moretz: 👍🏽

Phoebe Dynevor: Not a thumbs up or down, but I like the creation of the dress and the fabric(s).

Ashley Park: 👍🏽

Daisy Edgar-Jones: 👎🏽 - Too basic.

Finneas O’Connell: 👎🏽

Lena Waithe: 👍🏽 - I love the outfit and the colors!

Precious Lee: 👍🏽

Mindy Kaling: Not a thumbs up or down, but the color and creation of the gown are pretty.

Megan Thee Stallion: 👍🏽

Elon Musk: 👎🏽

Kid Cudi: Not a thumbs up or down, but the royal blue is nice.

Alexa Chung: 👎🏽 - Too basic.

Adrien Brody: 👎🏽 - Too basic.

Nyjah Huston: 👎🏽 - I love the shade of blue, though.

Jodie Turner-Smith: I... I don’t know. She looks pretty, though!

Camila Cabello: I don’t know what to think...

Chloe Kim: Not a thumbs up or down. The only thing I like is the red (I think) feathers.

Erykah Badhu: 👍🏽

Oscar Isaac: Not a thumbs up or down.

Bradley Cooper: 👎🏽 - Too basic.

Jessie Buckley: 👍🏽

Lauren Remington Platt: 👍🏽 - I’m getting Marilyn Monroe vibes, and I’m here for it. Her outfit is gorgeous!

Emma Corrin: 👍🏽

Stromae: Not a thumbs up or down, but I kind of dig the outfit.

Leslie Odom Jr.: Eh...

Charlotte Tilbury: No comment.

Emma Ratajkowski: 👍🏽 - Super vibrant, detailed, and eye-catching!

Victor Glemaud: Eh...

Cara Delevingne: 👍🏽

Lizzo: 👍🏽

Jeremy Scott: Eh...

Anthony Ramos: 👎🏽 - Neat outfit, though!

Venus Williams: 👍🏽

Jordan Ruth: 👍🏽 - Why does he look like an emo version of Frollo?? I love it!

Olivia De Jonge: 👎🏽

Kerry Washington: Eh...

Jacob Elordi: 👎🏽 - Too basic.

Kris Jenner: I could not care less about this woman.

Billie Eilish: 👍🏽 - Who or what was she going for?

Phoebe Bridgers: 👎🏽 - Gorgeous gown, though.

Tessa Thompson: 👎🏽 - Absolutely beauty and stunning gown, but she missed the theme.

Bad Bunny: No comment.

Sigourney Weaver: Not a thumbs up or down.

Teyana Taylor: 👍🏽

Gabrielle Union-Wade: 👎🏽 - Gorgeous, but not within the theme.

Taylor Hill: 👍🏽 - That shade of blue is gorgeous, and so is she (as usual)!

Genesis Suero: 👍🏽 - Gorgeous dress; it’s simple yet bold!

Alton Mason: 👍🏽

Jessica Chastain: Not a thumbs up or down.

Kiernan Culkin: 👍🏽, because he’s wearing sunglasses and Converse. What a bold move.

Lily James: 👍🏽

Katy Perry: No comment.

Blake Lively: 👍🏽

Kendall Jenner: 👎🏽 - I love how the skirt looks and the fabric of the top, though. Also, why are her eyebrows gone?

Kylie Jenner: I could not care less about this woman.

Olivia Rodrigo: 👎🏽 - The theme was not Disney, kid, but the dress is nice. The butterflies in her hair was a cute idea.

Simone Ashley: Not a thumbs up or down.

Dove Cameron: Not a thumbs up or down, but I love Iris van Herpen. She looks nice with dark brown hair too.

Kourtney Kardashian: I could not care less about this woman.

Travis Barker: 👎🏽 - Damn, he is Ugly (I mean Post Malone-level ugly...).

Dwayne Wade: 👎🏽 - He looks good, though.

Conan Gray: 👍🏽 - GET IT! #thoseplatformbootstho

Chloe Fineman: 👍🏽

Khloé Kardashian: I could not care less about this woman. Leave.

Kim Kardashian: I could not care less about this woman. Leave.

Carrey Mulligan: 👎🏽 - I like the gold sequins, though...

Amber Valletta: 👍🏽

Iris Law: 👍🏽, because she looks like a mermaid. Beautiful, beautiful gown!

Shalom Harlow: Eh...

Gwen Stefani: 👎🏽 - Oh, absolutely NOT.

Ashton Sanders: 👍🏽

Joan Smalls: Not a thumbs up or down, but the gown is pretty.

Christine Baranski: 👎🏽

Cardi B: I could not care less about this person. Leave.

Nicki Minaj: I could not care less about this woman. Leave.

Hailey Baldwin: She can go choke on Justin’s cum. Leave.

Quite a lot of the women’s husbands or boyfriends didn’t try, so I didn’t include their names.

▪️ May 2, 2022 ▪️

#text #personal #2022 #pop culture #met gala #met gala 2022 #fashion #fashion industry

5 notes · View notes

sleepyowlwrites · 3 years

Note

favourite visual details about your kiddos? what’s their favourite fancy outfit? their most common outfit?

(request for Nyks, but any and all of them are wonderful!)

- @akindofmagictoo

This is a very good question, Maybe Sorcery. Top marks.

I'll do the oldest five.

Nyks has very soft curly hair, very good for running your hands through. The curls don't frizz up, they just spring back into place, so you can mess around with it and Nyks looks just as cute and good as ever. He wears two layers even in the summer, an open button down over a tshirt, and a lot of sweaters over long sleeves in the winter. Most of his wardrobe is provided by Daniel, who loves to shop. He wears a lot of pastels because strong colors make him look even ghostier, but if he had to pick a brighter color to wear it's anything in the blue-green family. Nyks likes comfort or dressing up, but he likes the green corduroy pants that Evie helped Daniel pick out for him.

Bell wears almost entirely jewel tones and doesn't like to wear her hair up. Her sisters wear theirs in a variety of styles and she likes to be distant from them. She prefers simplicity to extravagance but wears high-quality items. Bell favors draped, loose pieces and her favorite accessory is a book.

Daniel wears patterned, fun clothing and loves purple and pink. He'll wear any color but yellow. His blonde hair used to be more reddish but it's a gentle sandy color now, which he prefers. Daniel will dress up or down as he feels like, rather than for the occasion. If he sees an article of clothing he thinks would look good on one of his friends, he buys it for them. Even Bell, who won't wear anything she hasn't bought for herself.

Irina loves florals, sparkles and silk, and does wear heels everywhere. It's less of a fashion statement and more just about her personality. Evie would say it's so she can stomp on people and Irina would toss her hair behind one shoulder and threaten to do it. Irina does have more frizzy curls and takes very good care of her hair to make sure it looks nice. She cares a lot about her appearance and the impression she makes on people. Any excuse to dress up is the best excuse and you better believe she looks stunning every time.

Mark is so simple about clothes. He sticks to neutrals and desaturated reds or greens. Daniel keeps trying to expand his wardrobe and Mark patiently lets him but also doesn't wear anything he isn't comfortable wearing. He likes hoodies and sneakers and flannel shirts. And he looks best when he's wearing what he's comfortable in.

Thanks for asking! I need to get some sleep.

#sleepy answers #oc asks

6 notes · View notes

dragon-fics · 3 years

Text

HA: Ch. 16 The Apprentice and Her Master

Chapter summary: Left in the void alone, Heather must confront the mysterious person who is supposedly waiting for her

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11, Pt. 12, Pt. 13, Pt. 14, Pt. 15

The figures faded away, and Heather stood in silence. Her muscles relaxed; she wasn’t even aware she was so tense. Heather glanced around the dark abyss, trembling slightly as it all hit her. She had passed their test… the test she wasn’t even sure she had even the slightest chance of passing. Heather drew in a long breath and hugged herself.

“Can—,” her voice was small and shaken, “can I talk to Aaravos now?”

The abyss stayed silent and dark; there was no sign of this person. Heather sighed and walked forward, head low and arms close to her stomach. She wished she could wake up already. Tonight had been exciting enough.

Then a whoosh and a bright light came from behind her. Heather turned around, looking at the pale portal in front of her. “Hello?”

Out of the portal came a dark figure, nowhere near as tall as the most talkative member of the council., but still taller than Heather, by about a foot. Long white locks billowed behind them as they walked forward, eyes and chest glowing.

Heather squinted. “Aaravos?”

The glowing portal faded away, allowing her to get a better look at the figure heading towards her.

He smiled. “You did excellent, Heather.”

She grinned. “Heh, it’s all your training, Sparkles.” She drifted towards him. “So… are you the one they were talking about?” She reached for his hand to ensure he was actually there. To her relief, she could hold it.

He gently wrapped his cool fingers around her and, ensuring her further, a small smile slipping onto his face. Aaravos shook his head, his smile fading away. “I don’t think so.”

Heather frowned and looked around at the abyss. Who else could want to see her?

Another orb of light appeared close by and slowly lowered itself to the ‘ground’. Its light faded away to reveal another elf… but this one was very much unlike the others. They didn’t have skin that reminded Heather of the heavens. Instead, their skin was almond brown with patches of grey and stars scattered around their body. They had short, undercut, bob cut silver hair and deer-like antlers on their head. They were lean built with pointed features, looking both but neither masculine nor feminine.

Heather peered at them and unconsciously reached for her facial markings. Theirs were very similar to hers. “Who… are you?”

They chuckled and looked at Aaravos. “Care to tell her, Master?”

Heather looked back at him, still holding his hand. She frowned. In none of his memoirs, had she found any mention of an apprentice.

Aaravos stare silently at the young elf. For the first time, Heather saw him stunned.

They came closer, a smile on their face. “It’s good to see you too, Father.”

Heather’s frown deepened. This was getting more convoluted by the second. This elf was revealing so much so quickly.

Aaravos released her hand and placed his hand on the mystery elf’s cheek, smiling down at them. “I thought I lost you, Elluin.”

They smiled, a tear rolling down their face. “You could never lose me.” Elluin looked at Heather. “not while she’s around.” They wiped away their tears and moved over to stand in front of Heather.

She glanced from them to Aaravos and wiped away his own stray tear. “So… who are you?”

They chuckled. “I am Elluin. And I was you in your past life. I am also the one who deliver you your prophecy.” They rolled their eyes.

Heather barked a laugh. “Exactly.”

Elluin smiled. “Shall we get started? And I’ll explain everything.”

*~*~*~*

Heather sat up groggily, morning sunshine blinding her as it poured into her eyes like burning lava. She groaned, glancing around the sun washed teal room. The night hadn’t seemed real, yet she could remember everything but her prophecy. She sighed, getting off out of the shallow pool of water, her gold and black outfit bone dry. She hummed and stepped out onto the steps, her bare feet warmed by the sun-touched tiles.

She opened the door of the room and walked down the long corridor. For a long moment, she was mesmerized, caught up in a web of her own thoughts. She had been destined to meet Aaravos? Heather found it hard to believe. She wound her way through his vast home, making her way down to the small kitchen and living area of his gigantic house.

He had mentioned that the tiny room was the heart of the house, where Aaravos had some of his greatest moments. At the time, Heather thought he meant achievements, but now she knew it had something to do with Elluin.

Heather entered the small kitchen, looking out at the large glass window that overlooked the Midnight Desert and Lux Aurea in the distance. She hopped up onto the violet stool by the obsidian counter, attempting to grasp what had happened last night. She stared at the black counter top as she thought, not noticing Aaravos walking in after her.

He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Good morning, Heather.”

“Morning,” she mumbled, coming out of her thoughts.

He smirked, tracing his hand over part of her she didn’t quite recognise.

Heather’s heart leapt, and she spun off the stool. Aaravos barely moved out of the way in time, and she spun around. On her back were a set of large wings, with the same ombre of indigo to yellow as her arms. She stretched them out, getting a long look at their glittering beauty. But they weren’t just glittering in the sun… they were twinkling with stars. Heather froze, her silver eyes narrowing. She looked at her hands. Stars were scattered across her skin. She took a quick peek down at her top. A small, white symbol of the star arcanum was embedded in her skin, high on her chest.

A muffled squeal escaped Heather as he spun around to face Aaravos. She chuckled madly and hopped on the spot. She dove into a hug, wrapping her arms around Aaravos. “Thank you,” Heather whispered.

Aaravos looked down at her, a soft smile on his face. He placed the bundle of clothing on the counter. “No, thank you, Heather.” He gently hugged her back. They stood there for a while, in each other’s embrace.

She slowly released him, stepping away with a broad smile. Her gaze drifted over to the bundle of clothing. She stepped forward, eyeing it curiously. “These are the garments you’ve been working on at night.” She observed.

Aaravos frowned. “Yes, they are.” He placed a silvery hand on top of the pile. “They’re for you.”

Heather glanced from him to the garments. “For me?”

He inclined his head. “I made them for when you passed your test, so you’d have clothes that suited you.”

Heat rushed to her cheeks. “Thanks, Sparkles.” She picked up the clothes. “Lets try them on, I guess.” She scuttled away with the bundle, leaving Aaravos standing in the room on his own. He reached for his sewing things, finishing a piece of embroidery.

When Heather returned, a figure-hugging black and purple tunic-length vest hung on her body. A small window was cut out for her star to shine through, and its core held an overlapping pointed design. Her leggings ended at her foot, allowing her feet to touch the ground. She presumed it was for her mimicking.

Heather spun around. “I love it!” she hissed. She then reached for the last piece of clothing. A cloak. It was the same black design as Aaravos’ with a silver accent to match her eyes. On the pointed hood were the symbols of the sun and sky arcana. She threw it on, liking that it ended above the knee for swift movement. She squealed again. “we’ll be a matching master and apprentice duo.” She grinned.

Aaravos chuckled, turning around. “That we can. But I have one more thing for you, Heather.” He drew a rune, something long and silver appearing in his hands. As he turned around, Heather got a better look at the long object. It was a slender pole with a large silver ring at one end. Between the ring and the tip of the pole, a large stone was embedded. In the ring were five other stones. Each one shone a different colour; one yellow, one teal, another deep blue, one emerald green, another pale blue, and the centre one was a shimmering lilac.

“I present to you the Apprentice Archmage’s staff.” He held it out to her. “For my apprentice.”

Heather smiled, taking the staff from him gently, getting used to its feel. “Thank you, Master.”

~The End~

There was supposed to be an epilogue, but it had no real purpose in the story and unfortunately I’m rather stuck for time. Thank you for sticking around and seeing the end of the book. If you would like to see the continuation, its first chapter is up, titled His Home. it won’t revolve very much about any of the canon Dragon Prince characters, it’s just set in the Dragon Prince universe. Thank you all so much for getting me 2,000 reads on this story. I will edit it sometime later this year or mid next year, depending on how life goes for me. Thanks again!

EmmaPRIME

#his apprentice #aaravos #the dragon prince

11 notes · View notes

starsinmylatte · 3 years

Text

A Song Among the Stars

Chapter count: 2/?

Rating: Mature 🔞

Relationships: Grand Admiral Thrawn/Original Female Character

Tags:

Space Opera (literally)

Slow Burn

Slow Romance

Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con

Never by thrawn

Sexual Tension

Mix of Legends and Canon

Art Enthusiast Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo

Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo is protective of his muse

Ballroom Dancing

Imperial Star Destroyers (Star Wars)

Imperial Officers (Star Wars)

Angst and Romance

Canon-Typical Violence

Chiss (Star Wars)

Chiss Ascendancy (Star Wars)

Masquerade

The Empire shows off

Imperial style

Phantom of the Opera AU if you squint

Thrawn finds his muse

Total word count: 5,506

Chapter 1: Overture

Song suggestion: Reflections- Toshifumi Hinata

I lingered in the bath, fully understanding that I was only delaying the inevitable. The warm, aromatic water swirled around me as I began to dread the next few hours. Soon, the handmaidens assigned to prepare me for tonight would arrive to ensure my compliance.

At an earlier point in my life, I would have resisted all of their attempts to shove me into the various gowns, gems, and the absolutely appalling shoes that had been chosen for me. I had actually bitten the first girl that tried to change my outfit forcibly.

The handmaidens were all extremely wary of me after that incident, but, somehow, three of them had managed to become my only true friends on Coruscant. Despite my best intentions to hate everyone, Talle, Kaia, and Ahni were the only ones who bothered to understand my story.

Though each of us was from a different planet, we had all been taken from our homes by the Empire. We all served high-ranking Imperials, but my main role was different. I was a piece of Imperial propaganda. I was painted as the poor girl from the Outer Rim whose singing talent was discovered by the Empire and given a place to shine for the whole galaxy to see.

My train of thought was immediately interrupted by the sound of three very familiar sets of footsteps entering my room and a sing-song voice that rang out, “Oh Lyra! It seems that you’re stuck with us yet again.”

I let out a genuine snort before retaliating. “Kaia, you know nobody else wants to be anywhere near biting distance of me. You’d have to be personally requested by Lady Tarkin before anyone would consider switching jobs with you, and that’s saying something.”

I suddenly shuddered as I remembered my last encounter with her. Thankfully it had been brief, but it had still felt like an eternity. “That woman is so unpleasant.”

The second voice jokingly mused, “I don’t know, sometimes you can be almost as miserable as her. Now come on out of the bath. We have to start getting you ready.”

“Just five more minutes Talle.” I groaned, “I can just feel that tonight will be particularly long.”

Kaia laughed as she poked her head into the refresher and handed me a mug. “Somehow, I knew you’d say that, and that’s why we’re here ten minutes early.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Before you even begin to ask about it, here’s your shig.”

I shot Kaia a friendly scowl before immediately perking up at the mention of my favorite tea. I had always been partial to caf, but there was nothing better than a steaming cup of herbal tea before a performance. The citrusy scent of the behot immediately filled the small room, and holding the warm mug in my hands was instantly comforting. I let out a sigh of pure bliss, “Stars, you are a wonderful friend.”

Kaia winked before exiting the refresher. “Oh, I know.”

As I enjoyed the last few minutes of my bath, the tea brought back memories of my home. Before the Empire had taken me, a cup of shig and a hot bath would have been considerably rare, and the chances of both happening on the same day, even rarer.

Back on Ero, life was more mundane. My father always had quality goods on hand, but as a trader, he couldn’t just let his daughter drink all of his products. There were also no fancy bathtubs because they were a waste of precious drinking water, so almost everyone used sonic showers instead. I could resent the Empire all I wanted to, but there was no denying that I was at least well provided for. Somehow that made me hate my captivity even more.

I gripped my mug as I fought the other memories that tried to resurface. It had gotten easier to push them down as the years passed, but the pain was still there. Flashes of my capture, my time spent held on a Star Destroyer, the captain that had trapped me in his quarters…... The last thing I needed was to slip back into these memories.

Then there was a gentle hand on my shoulder. The sudden presence made me jump, but I saw Ahni’s smiling face when I looked up. Her face was both a comfort and a constant reminder that the Empire had hurt many people besides me. She had a beautiful deep green complexion marred by the scars from her capture that ran across her face and entire body. Ahni rarely spoke, but she was still extraordinarily expressive and always had ways to make her emotions known. Realization flashed across her face before she bent down and hugged me.

We shared an understanding moment of silence before Kaia yelled in from the other room. “Come on, Ly! We have to get you into all this kriffing fabric sometime today. I heard that we managed to get one of the better options, but tonight everything is special, so there’s more to do than usual.”

Stars, I almost forgot, I mentally berated myself. Tonight’s not only the biggest party I’ve been expected to perform at so far, but it’s the kriffing Masquerade too.

I immediately began cursing under my breath in every trade language I knew as I leapt from the bathtub, wrapped a robe around myself, and ran out of the refresher, closely followed by a very amused Ahni.

My apartment was quite lovely for basically being a prison. I had a plush bed with privacy curtains, a small vanity, a bedside table, a closet filled with outfits, and a tiny enclosed balcony. Having a private refresher made it very close to luxury.

I walked over to the vanity and had a seat. I had been prepared for Imperial events far too many times and knew the procedure that was about to happen by heart. I used to protest that I could get ready myself, but preparing for an Imperial ball required way more thought and perfection than anything else and by now, I put my trust in Kaia, Talle, and Ahni.

Tonight demanded absolute perfection.

The Masquerade was a collection and celebration of the Empire’s most significant members, and my role was to be the sparkling gem in the center of everything. I knew my true purpose tonight involved way more than my renowned singing ability. My presence tonight was pure propaganda. I was a message to every person on every planet in the Empire. This could be you. The Empire is generous. If this insignificant girl from the Outer Rim could be here, you could be here too.

I had already been warned about the consequences if I fell short of what was required tonight.

Hours later, the process was finally complete. Talle had powdered, colored, and shaded my face to her precise standards. She had even filled my lips in with a deep red pigment and darkened my eyelashes to complement my icy blue eyes. Not to be outdone, Kaia had coaxed my long blonde hair into an elegant, intricate updo inlaid with black and white quartz.

The dress came last, and it was stunning. When Ahni opened my closet, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. Whoever had selected it had undoubtedly wanted me to stand out. There would be no shortage of finery tonight, but I was to be resplendent.

Talle was completely astonished for a long moment before she spoke, “I do believe this is the least horrid thing they’ve picked out for you.”

Ahni nodded vigorously in agreement while Kaia and I remained utterly speechless. The dress was breathtaking, even just on the mannequin.

Getting into the dress was a three-person endeavor, but the struggle was utterly worth it. The long, form-fitting black dress perfectly hugged every curve from the floor up before tapering just slightly above my cleavage. There, the material shifted to the left, wrapped behind my neck, and then formed a sleeve that draped down my entire right arm. However, the most remarkable thing about the dress was the fabric. Any and every way that I moved caused the material to shimmer like the thousands of stars twinkling in the night sky.

I was provided a single thick, gold cuff for my left wrist, and even though the hem of the dress would cover them, heeled slippers made out of the same fabric as the dress.

Talle smiled and carefully handed me the final missing piece. “Now, now,” she jested, “you can’t go to a masquerade without this.”

The mask she handed me was so intricately ornate that it easily could have been mistaken for black lace, but it was actually made from a lightweight metal inlaid with dozens of sparkling diamonds. When I put it on, it rested just above my nose to conceal the upper half of my face beautifully.

As Kaia secured the whole thing in my hair with more pins and gemstones, Ahni produced a floor-length mirror from the closet. In my performances on Eros, I had worn dresses that were considered elegant in the Outer Rim, but there was no way they could ever compare to this. For the first time in my life, I was stunned at my appearance. I had never been overly confident, but now I felt absolutely beautiful.

Talle laughed, “Just try not to stop any hearts tonight. The Empire might lose important officers, and then we’d all be in trouble for making you look this good.”

Kaia placed a hand over her mouth to stifle her snickering, and Ahni looked highly amused by the thought.

I just rolled my eyes, “I think their partners would probably get to me first.”

That sent everyone over the edge, and we all laughed to the point of tearing up. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. Ahni went over to open it, and two officers decked out in their Imperial best stepped into the room. The shorter officer locked eyes with me and blushed furiously before looking away.

The taller one finally spoke, “Good evening Miss. We will be your escorts for the night. If you wouldn’t mind following us, we have a speeder waiting to take us to the venue.”

I smiled at the officer, “Thank you, I appreciate it. If you wouldn’t mind waiting outside, I’ll finish up and be out in a second.”

He nodded and signaled to the other man. They stepped outside, and I immediately pulled Ahni, Talle, and Kaia into a big hug. “Thank you all for your help and for being my friends; you make this so much more bearable. I’ll see you when I get back tonight.”

After a few seconds, we broke apart and finished our goodbyes. I smiled at my friends one last time before walking out of the room to join the officers.

________________________________________________

Chapter 2: Aria

Orchestra tuning: The Imperial March (Glory of the Empire)

Lyra’s final song: Roméo et Juliette, CG 9 Act 1: “Ah, je veux vivre danse ce rève” sung by Aida Garifullina

*TW* brief Attempted assault/non-con towards the end of the chapter

The officers outside of my door stood so close that I almost ran headfirst into the taller one when I stepped out.

“Apologies, Miss, we thought you’d be a little longer,” the man managed as he smoothly sidestepped me before acknowledging his previous blunder, “It also seems like we’ve forgotten to introduce ourselves.”

He briefly paused to take his place beside his partner before continuing. “My name is Captain Dreycolt, and this is Lieutenant Arkmad. It’s an absolute pleasure to make your acquaintance and we both actually have you to thank for our presence at the Masquerade tonight.”

Arkmad, who was still noticeably red in the face, nodded sagely. “None of the higher-ranking officers wanted to be stuck with a job at the party; however, the rest of us were fighting to even be included. We happened to fall at the perfect place on the pecking order,” he smiled slyly.

I raised a single eyebrow at Arkmad and gave him my most saccharine smile, “Well, I’m glad that this will be an enjoyable job for you, even though you’re stuck with me.”

His face flushed several shades deeper, and he started to stammer. “M-My apologies M-Miss. I n-never meant to imply….”

Dreycolt promptly tapped him on the shoulder to cut him off before turning back to me and smoothly taking my hand. In one fluid motion, he leaned forward, slowly raised it to his lips, and gallantly kissed the top of my hand. He smiled up at me through lowered lashes, “However, any job that is this beautiful couldn’t possibly be so bad.”

Now it was my turn to blush and I prayed the mask hid most of it because Dreycolt was definitely an attractive man. His caramel-colored hair was neatly trimmed with darker eyebrows and eyelashes framing his warm amber eyes. The uniform he wore fit him exceptionally well, and the slight stubble on his chin tickled my hand as he pressed his lips to it. After what felt like an eternity, he released his grip, and my hand returned to my side.

There was no doubt Dreycolt’s distraction from his lieutenant’s blunder had worked as intended. I could tell he knew as much from the slight smile that tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You flatter me, Captain. If all Imperial officers are as pleasant as you, perhaps tonight will be more enjoyable than I expected.”

Of course, all officers aren’t as kind or practiced in flattery, I thought darkly. These two seem bearable enough to talk to, so I’m at least grateful for that. After all, they’ll be keeping me company for most of the night when I’m not on the stage.

His annoyance at the situation briefly flashed in Arkmad’s eyes before he cleared his throat. He did not seem to enjoy being sidelined for his misstep.

“We should be on our way by now,” he chided. “The airspeeder has priority clearance to travel outside of normal traffic lanes, but I don’t want to explain why the Empire’s star performer is late for her practice time with the orchestra.”

He was, of course, right. Dreycolt jokingly bowed and gestured out into the hallway. “Lead the way, Miss.”

With the Captain and Lieutenant flanking me, I walked through the twisting hallways of the building towards the balcony where our airspeeder was docked.

I was still somewhat dreading the Masquerade, but at least the ride would be pleasant and I would even get to see the sky again. It sounded like such a small thing to enjoy, but coming from Ero to Coruscant was a massive shock in so many ways. I could always see the sky and the stars glittering at night in the Outer Rim but Coruscant was a completely different story.

Though my apartment was beautiful, it was nowhere near the skyline. I played an important role, but it was definitely not important enough for me to live among the rich and powerful. The towering buildings above me kept all traces of natural light from finding my little room, and while artificial light was better than living in the dark, it held no comparison to the real thing.

When we reached the airspeeder, Dreycolt jumped into the driver’s seat, and Arkmad helped me into the back before taking his place in the seat beside him. At the press of a button, a smooth, clear dome slid overhead and enclosed the craft.

I couldn’t resist making a joke. “For both your sakes, I’m glad there’s a roof. You would have to deal with my very unhappy hairstylist if her work was ruined.”

Dreycolt let out a deep-chested laugh, and even Arkmad’s stormy facade cracked into a smile before the airspeeder pulled away from the building, and we were finally on our way.

Since I was expected to be at the venue early to rehearse, night had not yet taken over the cityscape. The sky was cloudy as usual, but light still fell to glisten and reflect across the tops of the tallest buildings. The view was absolutely breathtaking.

I all but shoved my face against the clear dome to take in all of the incredible scenes spread out below. Thousands of speeders, taxis, and transports wove around the many buildings, each with a different purpose and destination. I was beyond captivated by all the people and their freedom to go wherever they pleased, whenever they wanted to.

Before I knew it, we had arrived at one of the most palatial homes on the highest level I had ever seen. Dreycolt stopped the speeder at the balcony, although calling it a balcony was a massive understatement, and Arkmad helped me out onto the landing. I had become accustomed to the splendor displayed by the most influential Imperials, but this was on another level entirely.

An enormous garden lay spread out beyond the balcony’s opulent landing pad. The path we walked down extended its way throughout the entirety of the grounds and wrapped around a massive central fountain before it continued up into a set of stairs that I could only guess led to the main ballroom.

Statues depicting the most famous Imperial victories lined both sides of the walkway, which eventually branched off to different garden sections on each side. Upon closer inspection, the central fountain proudly displayed the Imperial Crest carved into stone so dark it could’ve been mistaken for a solid shadow.

Every single hedge, bush, or flower we could see was maintained to standards of perfection that would impress even the Admiralty of the Imperial Navy. The sweet scent of the many exotic flowers lingered in the air, and the sounds of water trickling from the fountain made the garden almost seem peaceful.

Dreycolt let out a low whistle that made both the lieutenant and I jump. Evidently, he had passed the speeder off to another officer while we were distracted. “Stars. I had heard the constant squabbling over who would get to host led to an amazing result, but this is insane.”

Arkmad nodded, “Someone told me the Emperor personally picked the host and venue. I have no idea who was picked, but they certainly did an outstanding job with the preparations.”

“I wish I were able to walk around,” I sighed wistfully. “It’s been years since I’ve been in a real garden.”

Dreycolt smiled, “Well, Miss, perhaps after your performance, we can arrange that.”

The grin that crept across my face was hard to hide as that simple thought became all of the encouragement I needed to get through the night. As the three of us began the walk to the ballroom, I realized that whoever had designed the path had done so with women’s shoes in mind, as it was completely smooth and comfortable to walk on. Kriffing hell, they really thought of it all.

Before long, we reached the top of the stairs and entered the ballroom. I didn’t think anything would outshine the garden, but I was so very very wrong. The garden was the pinnacle of control and order, but the ballroom exuded absolute elegance.

As we reached the top of the stairs, another officer was waiting to announce our arrival, but I was so captivated by my surroundings that I barely heard what he said. Beyond him was the main dance floor. It looked to be made out of the same dark stone as the fountain, but it was polished so thoroughly you could easily see your reflection looking back at you if you looked down. At the far end of the room, a small but wide set of stairs led up to the stage where the orchestra was busily setting up. More stairs just inside the entrance led to the upper floor, which was filled with tables draped in brilliant white cloths for people to sit and enjoy the spectacle of the dancing below them. A massive, crystalline chandelier hung over the ballroom and blood-red sashes decorated the balconies.

There was so much more to see, but, unfortunately, I wasn’t there to spectate.

As I walked up to the stage, I stopped to greet the conductor of the orchestra; Skath Farri was an old friend from the conservatory where I had trained. He was invited to Coruscant for his considerable talents and was never permitted to leave. Now, he conducted the Imperial Orchestra. No one could know our relationship was anything more than professional, or we’d never see each other again.

“Ly! You look gorgeous, my dear.” He greeted me with the usual platonic kiss on the cheek and inconspicuous wink. “Are you ready to shine tonight?”

That was his unique way of checking in on me. He was very aware that I had never entirely given my voice, or heart, to the Empire. I followed orders and sang the songs they wanted, but the emotion that drove my greatest performances was still in the Outer Rim. There was a marked difference between my performances here and Ero, but only someone like Skath would ever notice. I still played my part of the obedient songbird, but I refused to give them all of me.

I smiled back at him. “Just about as ready as I’ll ever be. They sent me a rather impressive list of everything I’m to perform tonight. At the very least, I came prepared.”

Skath just smiled knowingly before he shooed me onto the stage to begin warming up with the orchestra. Time seemed to stop as I rehearsed, but before long, the guests started to arrive and I was sent over to wait in my spot in the backstage wings until it was time to perform.

I could only see the stage, but I heard names, both familiar and not, being announced upon their entrance. The ballroom began to fill with voices as the guests trickled in. All of a sudden, a musical cue played, and the room went deathly silent. A ghostly hologram flickered to life in the center of the stage, and the shadowy form of the Emperor appeared.

“Welcome, my friends. I trust you will all enjoy tonight as a celebration worthy of our great Empire.” He paused for applause before continuing. “Now, it is my wish that you use this time to reflect on the victories that brought us to this moment. I assure you there will be many more in the future.”

The Emperor stood for even more cheering before holding up his hand to silence the crowd. “Now, let my Masquerade begin!”

His hologram flickered slightly before disappearing altogether as the lights dimmed, cuing me to get on stage. I walked out to stand in the center of the stage, and as soon as I reached my place, the lights slowly returned to their former brilliance.

I was no stranger to performing, but having every single Imperial in the room staring at me was enough to give me butterflies in my stomach. Thankfully, before they could settle in, Skath cued the orchestra to begin with a flick of his baton. The opening notes of the first piece, a current favorite on Coruscant, swelled to life, and I began to sing.

Almost immediately, the officers and politicians turned to their spouses or began to venture off in search of a dance partner. The crowded dance floor began to clear slightly, as others had no interest in dancing and were only there to make connections. The first song ended with tremendous applause, and I began the second. You can do this. Just take it one piece at a time.

By now, I was calm enough to enjoy myself and to watch the dancing and it quickly became apparent that everyone in attendance had tried their best to impress. The ladies wore beautiful, elaborate dresses made out of the best materials and representing the latest fashions from every corner of the Empire. Politicians displayed the most richly colored and finely tailored clothing they owned and Imperial officers were in their usual dress uniforms, but no one was seen without a mask.

There were all kinds of masks on display. Some were crafted entirely from gems or precious materials to show off resources from their home planet. Others pulled designs from legendary animals or myths. There were even some covered in exotic feathers or flowers, but every mask was distinctive in its own way.

Hours passed as I continued to sing. Slowly but surely, I made my way through the extensive list of songs on the program until only one remained. The last song required using a specialized instrument, so I retreated to the wings for some water while it was being set up.

Suddenly, Skath appeared and sprinted towards me. He spun me around to face him fully, and I was in shock at how frazzled he looked. Even his voice was strained. “Lyra, you have to trust me. I have no idea who asked for this, but they were important enough to change the final song we planned. Every member of the orchestra was given the new sheet music, and a stand was set out for you.”

“They want me to sight-read a piece on a night as important as this?!” I gasped indignantly at the thought.

Skath’s face was grim. “No. You’ll know it, but you won’t be happy about it. We don’t have any time left, so we’ve got to get back on stage. For what it’s worth….. I’m so sorry.”

My stomach sank. If he was this upset… I had no idea what to expect. However, there was no choice but to walk back to my place on stage and pretend nothing had even happened. With every step, the sinking feeling in my stomach grew.

It was so much worse than I ever could’ve expected. There was no way anyone here besides Skath should know about this song, but here it was in front of me. It was my favorite piece of music and the only one I’d sworn to keep from the Empire forever. The piece that had been the star of my first major performance on Ero after I left the conservatory.

Before I could even finish my thought, the orchestra cued up. The first few notes began, and every single one of them felt like a knife to the heart. My muscle memory kicked in, and before I even knew it, I was singing.

Thoughts flew through my head while I choked my way through the opening verse. What would I do? Do I keep my promise and hold back, or do I seize the chance I was forced into and truly sing from my heart? Memories of Ero, my family, and my friends all returned as the song continued. My voice began to flow over the music as I made it my own. I remembered my father’s smile and how proud he’d been of me for my music.

Courage suddenly coursed through me like liquid fire. I’d show every kriffing Imperial here what a daughter of the Outer Rim was truly capable of! I was wrong to hold back my emotions before. They could take me, bring me to this place, and shove me on a stage, but they could never control my voice. The Empire wanted me to be their emotionless puppet. My voice wasn’t exactly quiet before, but now it rose to fill the entire ballroom. I was going to burn myself into the mind of every Imperial present. Whoever requested this song would not see me subdued; they would see me triumphant. I poured every ounce of bottled-up emotion into my music, and my voice soared. Then, I had sung the final note, and it was all over.

You could’ve heard a code cylinder drop in the ballroom after the orchestra finished. The dancing had all but stopped, and people were leaning over the balcony to watch me. I curtsied, preparing to exit the stage and receive whatever punishment was in store for kriffing up the Masquerade, but then the thunderous applause began.

I kept my curtsy for as long as possible before my knees started to buckle. Everything left in me had gone into the song, and I barely made it into the wings before I collapsed. Fortunately, Captain Dreycolt was there to catch me before I hit the floor.

I smiled weakly at him. “Since the orchestra is taking it from here, now might be a good time for me to get some fresh air.”

He grabbed Arkmad, and together they helped me out one of the side doors into the garden. I didn’t want to be seen in my weakened state, but thankfully the garden was empty. Most people seemed to be still dancing or otherwise occupied. Those that were in the garden didn’t appear to have ventured this far.

Dreycolt stopped and pointed at the hedge maze, “There’s a small sitting area in the middle. The only way in or out is through the maze. Why don’t we take you to it so you can rest? Arkmad and I will stand at the entrance and exit to make sure you aren’t bothered.”

I had no complaints; the idea sounded fantastic. We made our way through the maze until we reached the center. It was small and only had enough room for a bench, but it was paradise to me. Arkmad helped me onto the bench before making his way to the exit. Dreycolt gave me one last worried glance, turned around, and headed back towards the entrance. The crisp night air felt wonderful on my face, and I began to relax. I closed my eyes, took deep breaths, and started to feel normal again.

The sudden sound of footsteps startled me. Assuming it was Dreycolt or Arkmad, I rose to meet them. For the second time that night, I was profoundly incorrect. A cold, sly voice broke the silence as the face that haunted my dreams stepped into the area. “Hello, Lyra. I bet you thought you’d never see me again.”

Icy fear washed over me as I was thrown into complete shock. Standing in front of me was Girerd Bost, the captain that took me from my home and attempted to violate me in every way possible. The starlight shone on his face, illuminating his narrow, glacial eyes and the nasty scar to the right of them. I hissed at him, “Captain Bost, what an unpleasant surprise.” I gestured to his scar, “It’s a real shame that didn’t heal better.”

He had the decency to look hurt by my cutting words as he moved his pale hair to the side and softly traced the scar. “Unfortunately for you, it’s Commodore Bost now.”

Before I could even blink, he lunged at me, grabbed me by the throat, and shoved me down onto the bench. Bost leaned forward and whispered into my ear. “Those two boys waiting for you were certainly brave. They tried to argue with me, but they couldn’t disobey a direct order from a Commodore no matter how much they wanted to.”

He paused briefly to trace his other gloved hand over my face. His touch revolted me and made my skin crawl; he seemed to take pleasure in my discomfort before continuing, “Now, there’s no one nearby to interrupt us…”

At that moment, he made the mistake of stroking my lips. It was my turn to lunge forward, and I bit down on his hand hard. Bost screamed and released my throat to grab his bleeding fingers. I leapt up from the bench and bolted past him, sprinting as fast as possible towards the maze’s entrance and praying that I wouldn’t hit a dead end. He was chasing me by this point, screaming obscenities and threats of what he would do to me. Finally, an opening in the hedges appeared. I glanced behind me to see if Bost was close behind, but as soon as I turned my head, I suddenly collided with a very large, solid thing.

The hedges made it way too dark for me to see, but from the soft grunt I heard during the collision, it was another man. I recoiled backward defensively as Bost rounded the corner. The mysterious man glanced at him, looked back at me, and seemed to judge the situation quickly. He swiftly stepped in front of me to block Bost’s path. At this point, all my dignity flew out the window, and I hid behind his tall figure. I just had to trust fate that I was better off with him than with the Commodore. In contrast to Bost’s loud cursing, the other man’s voice was impossibly soft and collected when he spoke. “Commodore, I believe this woman would like to be left alone.”

Still distracted by his hand, Bost howled, “Just who do you think you…..”. He looked up at the man and abruptly shut his mouth. Before he could re-open it, my unknown hero spoke again. This time his voice had a definite edge, and an unrecognizable accent slightly marred his words.

“I am Grand Admiral Thrawn of the Seventh Fleet. I trust you will have no further issues with me asking you to leave.”

#grand admiral thrawn #thrawn #thrawn fanfic #fanfic #ao3 #also on ao3 #star wars rebels #star wars the clone wars #star wars legends #Thrawn x oc #mitt'raw'nuruodo

29 notes · View notes