#vast expanse

[clownkiwi]

actually, thats a lie, if they can fit new york in there for a spiderman world in kh4, i wouldnt be against that. don't try any other marvel property, tho, i PROMISE you

[mishacollins]

Time.

I’m at home alone with COVID, which is giving me time to naval-gaze and empty my inbox. In that inbox, I discovered that my friend Alex Gorosh (director of my series RoadFood) sent me this little documentary short on the topic of time.

For some reason, the unfathomable magnitude of space and time has always been a great source of comfort to me. I remember feeling miserable as a teenager and looking up at the stars of the night sky and taking great comfort in the fact that I was just a speck on this tiny blue planet in an ever-expanding universe of quintillions of planets. Looking up at the night sky on a clear night in New England as a kid I could see faint glow of the milky way—hundreds of billions of stars so distant they ceased to be points of light, but together they added up to a dusty smudge of luminosity across the sky—and all of the stars the Milky Way are in our own galaxy! And there are hundreds of billions of stars in hundreds of billions of other galaxies in this universe. To my high school mind all of this comforted me, because how could my little problems ever feel big when held up to the enormity of everything.

I always remember being soothed by the vastness of the universe, but when I was 40, I read “Annals of the Former World,” a tome on geology by John McPhee. The book beautifully illustrated the great expanse of geologic time, which so often exceeds the limits of our comprehension with this simple quote, “Consider the Earth’s history as the old measure of the English yard, the distance from the king’s nose to the tip of his outstretched hand. One stroke of a nail file on his middle finger erases human history.”

When I remember to remember, this too comforts me. The infinitesimally-small-smallness of my troubles helps them fade into nothing. Watching these few minutes on Youtube this morning, it was comforting to see that I am not alone in this perspective on our blink of time in this world. 

https://youtu.be/nOVvEbH2GC0

[1111jenx]

𖤓Synastry series: Sun in the Houses𖤓

MASTERLIST — for more quality posts✨

💘Sun in the 1st House: Beneath the celestial canvas of this synastry placement, a tale as enchanting as a dream unfurls. The house person, akin to a night sky, emanates a radiant glow, echoing the Sun person's presence. To them, the Sun is their guiding star, the source of their joy, their radiant beacon in a universe otherwise cloaked in darkness. A profound contentment envelops them when bathed in the Sun's light, an authentic happiness as splendid as dawn's first light. The Sun, in return, basks in the house person's deep-rooted admiration, mirroring it back like a tranquil lake reflecting the midday sun. This tandem, like a pair of celestial bodies, graces the universe with laughter, an exquisite sonnet of shared joy. Together, they shimmer, illuminating the surrounding cosmos with their radiant togetherness, a spectacle of love that outshines the stars. Yet, within this symphony of love, a certain possessiveness persists, a gravitational pull that binds them irrevocably. They perceive the other as their celestial twin, their sole companion in the vast expanse of the universe. An echo of 'mine' resonates between them, an assertion of mutual ownership that is as potent as the heart's deepest longing. But as is the nature of celestial bodies, clashes may occur, ego battles akin to cosmic storms, threatening to disrupt their harmonious orbit. However, even these conflicts are silver-lined, offering pearls of wisdom and shaping their cosmic journey in profound ways. In the radiant presence of one another, they shimmer with unspoken brilliance. They ignite the best within each other, like distant galaxies awakening to their own magnificence. The house person swells with pride in the comforting glow of the Sun, who, in their unerring wisdom, whispers words that elicit pure, unadulterated joy. They orbit in their celestial dance, two bodies radiating love, learning, and laughter, a testament to the poetic resonance of their shared existence.

💘Sun in the 2nd House: In this bond, we find two souls who naturally stir each other's desires and comforts. Together, they revel in life's luxurious offerings, savoring the finest fruits of existence. The Sun person, like a guiding star, helps the House person grasp their true worth, understand their needs, and appreciate their resources. If the stars align favourably, their partnership blooms into something extraordinary, blessed by the gracious hand of Venus. They see worth in each other, a priceless treasure that enriches their shared journey. The Sun person recognizes the unique gifts the House person brings to the table. Yet, there's a shadow to the Sun's warm glow; a tendency to possess, to control, often without realizing. The House person, drawn in by the Sun's radiance, finds themselves doing more to please the Sun, adjusting to their needs, no matter what those might be. In this dance of connection, they move in harmony, a duet of love, desire, and mutual respect.

💘 Sun in the 3rd House: In their shared space, words intertwine like star-crossed lovers, ceaseless, captivating. Little disagreements dance on the edge of their tongues, only to be silenced by the tender symphony of make-up kisses. This placement weaves a sense of familiarity, a strange déjà vu, as if their souls have crossed paths in another life, another time. An unspoken comfort lingers between them, a tranquility that whispers of home. Conversations flow like rivers to the sea, their intellectual discourse as effortless as the wind caressing the leaves. The House person finds a certain charm in the Sun's words, hanging onto them like a melody that never grows old. The Sun, on the other hand, sees the House person as a precious gem, something to shield from the world's harsh edges. Their interaction is a feast for the mind, a stimulation that sings to those who crave deep, intellectual bonds. In this union, comfort abounds. Each word spoken, each secret shared, peels away another layer, revealing the essence of who they truly are. Their openness is as natural as a flower blooming under the spring sun, a testament to their profound connection. Intimate moments are shared in the small details - the clasp of their hands, a language written in the lines of their palms, a silent promise of enduring togetherness. Inside jokes punctuate their interactions, shared laughter blooming in their personal garden of camaraderie. A timeless dance of love and intellectual stimulation, their union weaves a tapestry of memories, each thread gleaming with their shared joy and affection.

💘 Sun in the 4th House: In the embrace of the House person, the Sun finds a home, an abode that whispers of permanence, a space it never yearns to desert. The sanctuary of their presence is a magnet to the Sun, a refuge radiant with solace. This cosmic alignment is intriguing, for it oscillates between providing profound comfort and eliciting the chill of fear, particularly if the Sun's chart is parched of the life-giving water element. There's an undeniable allure in the vulnerability this placement offers. The House person peers into the Sun, seeing its authentic self, acknowledging its limitless potential, and loving it unabashedly. They are the unwavering shield to the Sun, sometimes blindly so, standing in steadfast support irrespective of the circumstances. In response, the Sun flourishes. It blossoms with an ethereal beauty, basking in the adoration it receives, thriving on the nourishment of support. The presence of the House person is a soothing balm, a calming melody that seems to know the right notes to bring tranquility. The House person, in their turn, reveals a clear soft spot for the Sun, perhaps even forgiving their occasional bursts of tempestuous heat. It's a placement that prompts both introspection and reflection, a cosmic dance that sees them turning inward, mirroring each other's steps. Together, they discover a respite from their armor, a space where they can shed their toughness. They become a testament to the beauty of vulnerability, an echo of support and affection that resonates in the celestial symphony of their unity.

💘 Sun in the 5fth House: A placement I hold dear, is a dance of two cosmic entities feeling as though they've discovered their mirrored soul. It's not just a joyous union but one filled with exhilarating thrills and daring adventures. They revel in their shared laughter, their exchanges brimming with the innocence of child-like banter. Yet, beneath this playful veneer, there lies an infatuation, clear and profound, humming in the spaces between their words. The House person transforms into an eternal flame, a radiant beacon matching the Sun's relentless luminescence. The Sun, in turn, gazes upon the House with a sense of awe, often entranced by their seeming perfection. The House, in the Sun's eyes, feels like an equal partner, a reflection of their inner self. The fifth house is synonymous with romance. It's a fixed house, firmly rooted in its position, a steadfast testament to the House person's feelings towards the Sun. Regardless of their playful mind games, their seemingly flighty demeanor, their feelings towards the Sun person persist, burning with unwavering intensity. To the Sun, the House becomes an escape from the mundane, their daily dose of joy, their most ardent cheerleader. It's an alignment at times witnessed in tales of enemies turned lovers to bestfriends, an exciting dynamic where they continually challenge and dare each other to delve deeper into life's mysteries. It's a placement pulsating with positive energy, echoing with shared giggles, and resonating with playful touches. It's a cosmic dance of two entities, navigating the universe hand in hand, their hearts beating in a rhythm that speaks of love, laughter, and endless adventure.

💘 Sun in the 6th House: In this celestial arrangement, the Sun finds itself nestled in a house of pragmatism and routine, shedding its brilliant light upon the practicalities of daily life. These constellations spin tales not of grand careers or cosmic pursuits, but of everyday work, the quiet rhythm of health and wellness, the structure of routines and the serene act of service. In this dance of the stars, the Sun's light illuminates pathways to healthier eating, disciplined exercise, and even companionship with beloved pets. The Sun, in its radiant role, serves as a guiding beacon for the 6th house dweller, leading them towards the sanctity of a balanced lifestyle. It may inspire a shared commitment to physical exertion, perhaps in the form of joining a gym, or ignite conversations about nutritious diets and wellbeing. The Sun person may even act as a catalyst, helping the 6th house dweller establish routines that reinforce physical and mental health. Yet, the orbits of these celestial bodies might lead them down professional paths that intertwine, potentially finding one in the service of the other. However, with the Sun's position in the practical 6th house, a word of caution is warranted. The equilibrium of give and take must be carefully maintained to prevent the transformation of helpfulness into servitude. It's crucial that neither the Sun nor the 6th house dweller feels overburdened, their efforts unreciprocated.. It inspires a mutual journey towards better physical and mental health, encouraging each to uplift the other, illuminating their shared path with the light of practical wisdom and mutual care.

💘 Sun in the 7th House: In the grand tapestry of the cosmos, this placement is akin to a celestial masterpiece, an ideal constellation in the realm of astrology. The Sun, in its radiant glory, casts its golden light upon the 7th house, a house rich with the resonance of companionship, the solemnity of marriage, the intimacy of one-on-one relationships, the practicalities of business partnerships, the binding power of contracts, and the hidden faces of our alter-egos or shadow selves. In this dance of the stars, the Sun person stirs a longing within the 7th house dweller, a yearning for partnership, perhaps even a hankering for the sacred bond of marriage. The 7th house person may perceive the Sun person as the embodiment of their perfect mate, a mirror reflecting all the qualities they admire yet feel they lack. This celestial alignment weaves a balancing harmony in their relationship, as the Sun person displays characteristics and idiosyncrasies that the 7th house person cherishes but doesn't possess. As the 7th house is the celestial realm of marriage and contracts, the potential for wedded bliss, or perhaps a formal business partnership, is a tangible possibility should their relationship endure the test of time. However, as with any celestial arrangement, there are potential pitfalls to navigate. The two may become so entwined that they lose their individualities, their identities blurring until they cannot discern where one ends and the other begins. It is vital to remember that they are unique souls united, not a singular entity. Additionally, the mirage of the ideal mate may only be visible to the eyes of the 7th house person, with the Sun person potentially oblivious to this perception. The entirety of the synastry chart must be considered to gauge the mutual feelings of compatibility and the potential for enduring companionship. Thus, in this symphony of stars and planets, the dance of destiny unfolds, charting a course of love, partnership, and shared dreams.

💘 Sun in the 8th House: The placement of the Sun in the 8th house is a pas de deux that is not meant for those with faint hearts. It is a dance where the dancers—the Sun and the 8th house person—are likely to be pulled in one of two extreme directions. They may find themselves entwined in an intoxicating whirl of magnetic attraction, an intense passion that seizes them, or they may feel an unsettling disturbance, a disquiet that rattles their core, often swaying between these polar opposites. The Sun, in its radiant role, casts an unflinching light on the profound themes of the 8th house, illuminating the shadowy corners of sexuality, the cyclical dance of death and rebirth, the tumult of transformation and crisis, the journey of personal growth and evolution, the undercurrents of psychology and addiction, the intricacies of finance, and the hushed whispers of societal taboos. These subjects, often shrouded in mystery, may either captivate or unsettle the house person. They might either welcome the Sun person into their hidden depths or push them away. The house person might perceive the Sun as an enigmatic entity, while the Sun person uncovers the secrets that the 8th house person keeps hidden from the world. Should both individuals bear the mark of Pluto's dominance, or have a strong 8th house presence in their natal chart, this union may flourish in mutual fascination. However, if one or both harbor hidden trauma or suppressed shame, this intense connection could serve as a deterrent, overwhelming their senses. This celestial arrangement signifies the potential to unravel each other's hidden layers, maintaining a profound bond that might lead to mutual transformation. Yet, caution must be exercised to prevent power dynamics or manipulative tactics from seeping into their relationship. Ultimately, this celestial alignment can flourish if both are open to exploring the depths of each other's souls, embracing growth and transformation, and traversing the labyrinth of shared secrets.

💘 Sun in the 9th house: The Sun weaves golden threads into the 9th house tapestry, infusing wisdom's domain with the vibrancy of its radiance. This divine dance resonates with the seekers, the dreamers, those who chart the star-studded expanse of their fate, guided by an insatiable thirst for depth and meaning. The Sun, a luminary beacon, casts an ethereal glow on the winding paths of philosophy, spirituality, and the rich tapestry of global culture, sparking a flame in the 9th house soul, igniting the tinder of curiosity and wanderlust. In the sacred dance of their divergent or converging beliefs, they find a melody, a rhythm that binds them in an intricate ballet of understanding. Their shared intrigue transcends the constraints of culture, religion, and philosophy, knitting them closer in the vast expanse of human thought. Together, they traverse oceans, cross continents, and journey through the labyrinth of the mind and the world, venturing into territories unseen and unexplored. Yet caution must be heeded, for clashing perspectives may strike discordant notes, marring the celestial harmony. But through the crucible of understanding and growth, they shall rise, bound by a shared quest for enlightenment and truth. Soaring high, they ascend to the sublime realm of knowledge, guided by the radiant beacon of the Sun.

💘 Sun in the 10th house: The Sun, in its radiant glory, casts a shimmering glow upon the 10th house, bathing the lofty pinnacles of ambition, authority, and societal prestige in golden light. The 10th house individual beholds the Sun, seeing within its fiery aura the embodiment of a mentor, a guiding star, perhaps even a paternal figure. In this celestial dance, the Sun nurtures the dormant seeds of promise within the 10th house soul, kindling a fire that empowers them to scale the towering heights of professional achievement and public recognition. Unseen currents may churn, as the tides of power and authority ebb and flow, wrestling for harmonious balance. Should the rhythm of their hearts align, with the melody of guidance and humility ringing louder than the discordant notes of dominance, their shared journey shall carve a path to victory in the grand stage of career and societal prominence. Together, they'll ascend the mountain of success, guided by the Sun's resplendent glow.

💘 Sun in the 11th house: As the Sun anoints the 11th house with its golden kiss, souls intertwined in this celestial ballet discover a fellowship deeper than mere companionship. They merge as confidants, their dreams and aspirations entwining like tendrils of starlight, fueled by a shared devotion to the grand tapestry of humanity. Hand in hand, they champion noble crusades, threading their bond of friendship through a loom of diversity and acceptance. The Sun, a celestial minstrel, serenades the 11th house soul, inspiring them to dance in the unique rhythm of their being. In turn, the 11th house individual perceives the Sun as a lighthouse of acceptance, its unwavering beam illuminating their path in times of tumult. For hearts fluttering to the cadence of romance, seek reinforcement from other heavenly harmonies, for a profound friendship forms the bedrock of enduring love.This cosmic duet, a symphony of souls, signals unity, mutual respect, and a shared pledge to a future as radiant as the Sun. Their shared bond, an ethereal waltz, tells a tale of harmony, shared dreams, and a commitment to a collective dawn where every dream finds its home.

💘 Sun in the 12th house: As the Sun slips into the enigmatic embrace of the 12th house, its bright sovereignty is shrouded in gauzy veils of mystique, spirituality, and the unseen. To the house person, the Sun appears as an ethereal apparition, a spectral force oscillating between healing and bewildering, like a siren's call echoing through the vast and shadowy cosmos. Shrouded in the silken shadows of the subconscious, their connection pulses like a hidden heartbeat, a secret rhythm known only to them. This clandestine bond invites introspection and self-discovery, a voyage into the deep waters of their shared consciousness. For the Sun person, the depths of the 12th house may feel like a labyrinth of twilight, where their radiant essence is held in a silent waltz, yearning for the symphony of expression. When suspicion or paranoia creep into this celestial bond, trust must be kindled like a beacon in the deep, for their connection thrives on the revelation of buried truths and the unearthing of the divine spark within. With hearts aglow and an attuned awareness of their spiritual dance, they navigate the labyrinthine realms of the soul, transcending the mortal shackles, and ascending into an otherworldly romance. This sacred journey, a testament to their courage, becomes an intimate dance between two souls weaving their way through the cosmic tapestry, seeking the divine in each other.

Thank you for staying til the very end loves, I hope you enjoy this as much as I do, let me know your thoughts in the comment🤍

love,

saint jenx🪐

© 2023 Saintz Jenx All Rights Reserved

[dark-dawn]

₊˚ ⊹｡ BIRDS OF A FEATHER ｡ ⊹ kageyama tobio

✭ summary: perhaps even in the vast, chaotic expanse of all the planets and stars and galaxies, you would always find each other. in every world, every universe, again and again. or, your photo shoot is interrupted by your ex-boyfriend.

✭ pairing: kageyama tobio x model!reader

✭ contains: exes still in love, mutual pining, slight angst, post-timeskip, alcohol + smoking, everyone is very touch-starved and can't keep their hands to themselves, longing and devotion!!, happy ending <3

✭ word count: 3.6k ✭ a/n: i recently watched the movie, and now i can't stop thinking about kageyama. so here we are :)

you were nineteen when you broke up with tobio.

back then, the world seemed to constrict around you – streets narrowing, air thinning – as if the universe itself conspired to magnify the ache in your lungs. it was as though every passing moment folded in on itself, squeezing tighter with each breath, until you felt suffocated by the weight of your own existence.

but maybe you were just nineteen, and everything felt worse then.

you find comfort in the idea that among the countless universes unfurling across the cosmos, there exists one where you and him are together, where the threads of fate intertwine just right. perhaps you first meet in a quaint coffee shop on a rainy afternoon, where you’ve forgotten your umbrella, and he offers to share his own. or maybe it’s a bustling bookstore, where your hands reach for the same novel, and your eyes meet with a spark of recognition, as if your souls can recognise each other through touch alone.

and maybe there is a universe where he doesn’t become a professional athlete. he’s just tobio, a boy with kind eyes and dreams that don’t pull him miles away from you. there, perhaps, saturday mornings are spent in bed, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and pastries lingering in the air. golden morning light would filter through the curtains, casting a hazy glow over your bodies, and your joy would radiate so intensely that your vision is filled only with each other. you’d fight over silly things, like whose turn it is to do the dishes or whether the couch should be moved two inches to the left. but even in those moments, there’s a comfort, a certainty that at the end of the day you’d still find yourselves curled up together, sharing the warmth of the same bed.

in another universe, maybe it’s not so perfect. there are arguments that sting, silence that stretches too long. and yet despite the cracks and the flaws, you choose each other, again and again.

but here, in this reality, you were nineteen when you broke up with tobio. you cried until there were no tears left, until the numbness set in and the world seemed dull and grey.

and then you learned to navigate life without him, because the world wouldn’t end because you broke up with your boyfriend. 

three years later, tobio is... well, he’s still a professional athlete, at the peak of his career now. sometimes, his name pops up on your social media feed, accompanied by images of him on the court, sweat glistening, determination etched into every muscle, into every pore. it still feels strange, seeing him there, and not by your side.

there’s an undeniable magnetism to him, a gravitational pull that draws your gaze despite your best efforts to look away. he’s a force of nature, like a raging wildfire or relentless flood; more natural disaster than a man of flesh and bone. you can’t help but feel a pang of something – nostalgia, perhaps, or maybe a twinge of envy. you always liked to watch him play, but now you’re really on the sidelines. 

seeing him on your phone is always a reminder of just how far apart your worlds have drifted, how different your paths have become. he’s soared to unimaginable heights, and you can’t reach him anymore.

you miss him. it’s an ache you can’t seem to shake.

but you’re not doing bad per se. you’re a model now, signed to an agency, and getting semi-regular jobs, too. it’s a far cry from your nineteen-year-old self who was too insecure to ever apply. you remember how daunting it was at first, the fear of rejection teetering on your shoulder blades. it lingers still, in the long hours and perfectionism, but you’re proud of yourself.

you just miss him.

---

you’re at a club when you find out you landed the most significant booking of your career.

you’re not exactly thrilled to be there – a promoter had convinced you to come, and, well, you needed the money.

the bass thumps through the floor, reverberating up your legs as you stand near the bar, nursing a drink. neon lights dance across the crowd, illuminating the faces of strangers lost in a haze of alcohol. you take a sip, the liquid burning as it slides down your throat, momentarily distracting you from the mess around you.

you pull out your phone, the screen casting a faint glow against the darkness of the club. your fingers fumble for a moment before you manage to unlock it, the pulsing music and jostling bodies making it hard to focus. a notification from your agent pops up, and you squint at the words, trying to make sense of them in the dim light. you blink, then read it again, just to be sure.

you got the job.

it’s for an athletic brand. not exactly the glamour you’ve dreamt of, but the pay... the pay is good. and working for them means exposure, means more opportunities down the line. sure, it’s not the pinnacle of your aspirations, but it’s a step – a big one – in the right direction. and right now, that’s all that matters.

you’ll celebrate later, you decide, once you’re somewhere quieter, somewhere you can properly let it sink in. maybe with friends and family, but definitely not with a text to your ex, telling him how well you’re doing, how he would be proud of you.

you wonder if there will be a day when you don’t think about him.

---

kageyama did not cry when you broke up with him. he had wanted to, he thinks, but at the time he just felt numb – like a cold emptiness had settled deep within his chest, drowning any semblance of feeling.

in the days that followed, he replayed the conversation in his mind, searching for some hidden meaning, some clue as to why it had all fallen apart. but the truth eluded him, slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. he only remembers the disbelief, as if the ground had suddenly dropped out from beneath him.

but tears? they didn’t come. just a hollow ache, a void where your presence used to be.

and so, he buried himself in his work, throwing himself into training like usual. volleyball has always been his world – not just a game, but a language he speaks fluently. from the moment he first picked up a ball, he knew he had found his calling, his purpose in life. it was the very essence of who he was and is.

he still remembers a conversation you had with him – about how rare it was to know what you were destined for, to have a passion that consumed you so completely. he sometimes wonders if that’s why you had drifted apart. but he couldn’t blame the sport, not really.

sometimes, in the quiet moments between matches, he allows himself to wonder what could have been if things had ended differently between you. he envisions alternate paths, where your story together didn’t reach its abrupt conclusion – where you shared an apartment in tokyo and spent sunday mornings tangled in sheets. where every glance, every touch, was infused with a sense of belonging, of being exactly where you were meant to be.

but as quickly as these visions materialise, they dissipate into mist, swept away by the roar of the crowd. he makes a conscious effort to redirect his focus, reminding himself that the only path worth pursuing is the one ahead – toward the next serve, the next point, the next victory.

because the world didn’t end when you broke up with him. and kageyama, ever the competitor, refused to let it break him.

three years later, it had honed him to a razor’s edge, forged him into one of japan’s best players.

his pride in his career runs deep – every milestone, every hard-fought victory, every bruise and callus on his hands stands as a testament to his dedication and skill. he finds solace in the rhythm of the game, the familiar feel of the ball in his hands. it’s a dance he knows well, a symphony he conducts with ease. and in those moments, when he’s completely immersed in volleyball, the ache fades to the background, and he feels whole again.

and yet, he still misses you – still loves you. he doesn’t think he will ever stop. you were more than just a memory, you were a part of him, too. a missing piece that no amount of success or recognition could replace.

in the end, he accepts it. the longing, the ache – they’re part of the same drive that makes him excel on the court. he channels that energy, that unresolved emotion, into every match, every practice session, pushing himself to be better, to achieve more.

he finds himself tangled, however, in a web of obligations he never quite anticipated. adverts, interviews, appearances – the demands weigh heavy on his shoulders. it’s not what he signed up for, but he grits his teeth through the endless photo shoots, smiles plastered on his face for the cameras. he knows it’s all part of the game.

he can almost picture your reaction, a soft laugh escaping your lips as you watch him stumble through the world of fame and publicity. he was never one for the spotlight – comfortable only around a select few, always at ease with you.

as he scrolls through his emails, a notification from his manager catches his eye. his next commitment is for an athletic brand – a familiar name that he’s collaborated with in the past. he quickly scans the details, noting the time and location of the shoot. it’s familiar territory, a well-worn path he’s treaded many times before. at least with this one, he’s just advertising sportswear – something he practically lives in already.

he just didn’t expect to do be doing the campaign with you.

---

your agent had given you the heads up beforehand. “it’s the usual routine,” she assured you, though her tone betrayed a hint of urgency. “but there’s a chance a well-known athlete might join for some test shots. don’t worry about it, just be professional.” it was patronising, but you appreciated the warning nonetheless. dropping that you’d be working with a celebrity isn’t out of character for her; she has a talent for delivering bombshells with the same nonchalance she’d use to tell you it might rain.

like when she casually mentioned that your recent shoot would be featured in a major magazine, just as you were about to walk out the door. or the time she informed you, in between sips of her almond-milk latte, that a renowned director would be on set to “observe”. these little surprises were her specialty, and you had come to expect them, even if they never failed to set your nerves on edge.

arriving at the studio, you’re greeted by the usual hustle and bustle. anxious, over-worked assistants scurry around, trying to ensure everything is in place. the aroma of coffee brewing in the corner wafts through the air, mixing with the faint scent of hairspray. you take a breath, letting the atmosphere ground you. celebrity or not, you know what you’re doing.

like usual, you’re ushered into the wardrobe area, shedding your street clothes for a sports bra and leggings. the stylists swarm around you like bees, their skilled hands darting in a flurry of motion. they adjust, pin, and tweak, ensuring every seam and fold falls perfectly into place. it is a carefully curated illusion designed to sell as much merchandise as possible, and you are just another product on display.

the crew members move with practiced efficiency, adjusting lights and tweaking camera angles until everything is just right. the photographer, a tall man with an air of calm authority, greets you with a small smile. “let’s start with some warm-up shots,” he suggests, positioning you in front of the camera.

you begin with basic poses, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, finding your balance. the photographer’s assistant calls out directions, “chin up a bit, shoulders back, hold that!” the camera clicks incessantly, capturing every subtle movement.

and then, just as you’re settling into it, you hear a voice to the side of you – familiar, unmistakable. turning around, you find yourself face to face with a figure from a chapter you believed firmly closed: your ex, the famous athlete you’re supposed to be working with.

the boy you broke up with when you were nineteen.

the shoot halts momentarily as the director moves to make introductions, but –

“we already know each other.”

he’s just as handsome as you remember, maybe even more so. time has been kind to him, sculpting lean muscle and a confidence that wasn’t there when you were younger.

he’s standing there, just mere feet away, and every detail of his face is still seared into your mind – the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, the furrow of his brow. you know him well, even now. every hidden scar, every freckle. you would know him blind.

he doesn’t even glance in your direction.

perhaps he intends to keep things strictly formal, a prospect that suits you just fine. it would be easier, you think, to feign ignorance, to spare both of you the discomfort of awkward interactions when you had once loved each other so fiercely.

it’s strange to be so close to him and not be able to touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin under your fingertips.

you realise with sudden clarity that you still want to touch him.

but you can’t think like that. not right now. you have a job to do.

“we’ll get a couple of shots of you together and then you’ll be done for the day!”

---

you thought he wouldn’t be good at modelling, too stiff, perhaps, but your bodies still recognise each other, still remember how to fit together side by side.

it’s almost unfair how effortlessly pretty he is.

you’ve always felt like you had to work twice as hard just to feel remotely confident in your own skin. your beauty doesn’t come naturally, and you suppose the modelling industry thrives on that. on contorting and sculpting a new image, a new person, with every photo.

you wonder if he feels similarly, in interviews and adverts and under the scrutiny of the public eye. it must weigh heavy on him too, you think.

you hope he’s okay, and you realise you could ask him, maybe, if that’s still okay?

as the photoshoot gradually draws to a close, you find yourself hesitating, unsure whether to linger or to swiftly retreat. part of you wants more time, to look at him for a little longer, to be by his side once more. but another part of you, perhaps the more cautious side, warns against overstaying your welcome, against stirring up old emotions that may be better left untouched. you glance at him, catching his eye for a brief moment, before turning away.

you quietly pack your bag and step outside for a smoke, seeking comfort in the familiar ritual. it was a bad habit – one you had picked up about a year ago from a girl you did a casting with. the cool air offers a brief respite from the swirling thoughts in your mind, but as you exhale a plume of smoke, you can’t shake the uncertainty gnawing at your insides. you’re so unsure of yourself – you hadn’t felt this way since you were sixteen, nervous about your first date with the boy on your school’s volleyball team. do you want to say hi? do you want scream at him? both? neither?

he makes the decision for you. he always was so decisive.

“this wasn’t where i’d expected to find you.”

“no?” you’re not sure if you should be offended or not. does he mean modelling?

“what’s that supposed to mean, kageyama?” the words come out blunter than you intended – they’re not the words you had planned late at night, missing his body next to yours.

but it’s been years since you’ve spoken to him.

“tobio.” he smiles reflexively – your voice always had that effect on him. 

“what?”

“you never called me kageyama.”

“tobio.” his name still reminds you of home, but it clings to your tongue like honey, sweet and heavy, coating every word.

“what do you mean?” self-doubt trickles down your throat. you wonder if you will ever stop caring what he thinks of you.

“i suppose i just pictured you somewhere far away from this world,” he pauses. “stupid, really. you’ve always been so pretty.”

you’re not sure how to respond to that, either.

“listen, i..." he begins again, then hesitates, as if grappling with his own thoughts. “i just meant to say i hope you’re doing well. that you’re happy.”

a smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “you know, before we left school, i gave it – what – two years before you were on japan’s team. you always were an overachiever.”

“i had good motivation, wanted to make you proud.”

the wind shifts, blowing his hair across his face. you extend your hand, fingers instinctively brushing away the strands. he stares at you, unflinching, as if the world outside you and him no longer exists. like he never wants to look away.

“you have always made me proud,” you confess.

a moment of silence, then, “i miss you.” he says it like a prayer, faithful and devoted. still, after all this time.

“don’t say that.”

“why not?”

“if today didn’t happen, you wouldn’t have seen me again.”

“i would’ve found you.”

“and how could you be so sure?”

“because some things are inevitable. fate, i suppose.”

“you can’t just say things like that, tobio,”

“i’m not saying it lightly. i mean it.”

“i know, but it’s been years. people change.”

“maybe,” he concedes, taking a step closer. “but some things don’t.”

you were already aware of his fixations long before your paths crossed – achieving what he has demands an undercurrent of obsession to temper the blaze of brilliance. you did not predict how that obsession might manifest when directed towards a person. how it might feel.

you’ve never been kind enough to refrain from taking everything he lets you, never had the sense to check the depth of a river before wading in. perhaps you will always stumble blindly into the waters, ignorant of the depths that may swallow you whole, heedless of the currents that may drag you under.

and so you kiss him.

a little noise of surprise leaves his lips, but he quickly recovers, as if he had anticipated this turn in the conversation. like it was inevitable, instinctual.

you can feel the contours of muscle through his shirt, his uneven breaths, the overwhelming intensity of his lips against yours. there’s a hint of indecision in his touch, wavering between tenderness and urgency. soft, gentle kisses intermingled with fervent, desperate ones, like he can’t decide between cherishing and consuming.

he leaves you breathless and desperately needing more as his lips trail along your jawline. your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, as if afraid to let go, as if this moment might slip away like a dream.

you wanted this. wanted him. you don’t think you ever stopped.

“you drive me mad,” he breathes. “always, always on my mind.”

but you were nineteen when you broke up with tobio, and now three years have slipped by.

(and you’re outside a photo studio, thankfully deserted, but that’s beside the point.)

so you draw back slightly, breaking the intensity of the moment but still close enough to feel his warmth. his touch lingers, torn between holding on and letting go.

you had been in his presence for just a few hours and you felt raw, like skin scraped against pavement after a fall, exposed and stinging with every touch.  

“this is a terrible idea,” you whisper, the words heavy.

“i don’t care. i’ll follow you wherever you go.” he has always been one to worship, always the type to pour the entirety of his being into his devotions.

and who were you to argue with him – to oppose such faith?

---

the photos of you and him go viral. oddly enough, you’re not surprised – there’s something about the way you fit together, the connection evident in every frame. people comment on how familiar the two of you look, how effortlessly intimate.

then, one of tobio’s fans unearths old pictures of you and him together, tucked away in the depths of his twitter account. you both look so young, almost unrecognisable compared to the refined public images you now project. there’s a rawness to the photographs, a sense of innocence preserved in pixels. you stand shoulder to shoulder, his arm draped casually around your shoulders, and you both radiate such genuine happiness.

his previous tweets were a monotonous stream of game highlights and obligatory promotions, and it’s clear he rarely uses his account for personal matters. yet, among the myriad of mundane updates, there is a tweet asking him if the two of you are back together.

and then, in a move that could only be described as infuriatingly nonchalant, he responds with a single word.

“yes.”

[purple-plum-petals]

⊱ You Can Do Better Than Me ⊰ || Boothill X Reader

╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮        Character(s): Boothill (Honkai: Star Rail)        Reader Type: Human, Not the Trailblazer (Gender-Neutral Pronouns)        Warning(s): Break-up (Miscommunication/Assumptions… Not Permanent), Negative Body Image/Self-talk (Regarding Boothill), Use of Petnames (Boothill calls Reader “darlin’” and “sweets” and Reader calls Boothill “honey” and “love”), Slightly Suggestive Ending.        Genre: Drabble, Angst, Fluff (Hurt/Comfort), Pre-Established Romantic Relationship        Word Count: ~2500 words       Prompt: “What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?”        Author’s Note: Hello everyone, I come back to you briefly with a random Boothill drabble because this cowboy has been on my brain for the past three months and I needed to get something written for him ASAP. I actually got both him and his lightcone on release day, so I’m still hyped about that (didn’t even need to break my F2P status either hehehe 😎). I will get around to writing a multi-chapter fic for him as soon as my summer semester is over and all of the current requests in the ask box have been answered. I’ve been managing the workload relatively well so far, but it’s genuinely been so overwhelming in terms of content/information that my brain can barely form coherent sentences after class and work. 😭 Anyways, have some self-conscious Boothill and my beloved hurt/comfort. Maybe instead of saving the horse, we should save the cowboy. Also… let me know if anyone is interested in a part two, and I’ll be happy to write it. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)             Tag-List: @anonima-2 – I know you wanted me to tag you if I got around to writing a Boothill X Reader fic, so here it is! It may not be a multi-chapter one, but I hope you enjoy this little drabble.

→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

You had known Boothill for quite some time now. You had crossed paths with the elusive Galaxy Ranger throughout the years, so many times that you eventually lost count. Three times was uncommon, five times was rare, but over twenty times? That was absolutely unheard of given the vast expanse of space. It got to the point where you both noticed how frequently you would meet, the two of you making jokes that the universe was pushing you together.

Boothill had thought for a while you were sent to capture and/or kill him by the IPC but, after a particularly intense “discussion” (where he proceeded to hold you at gunpoint, as he frequently did with most people), you were able to confirm that all of the times you two had met were indeed just an exceedingly rare coincidence. It was something you would occasionally bring up to tease him about nowadays, poking fun at the fact he had literally held his future partner at gunpoint. It was a memorable event to reminisce on when asked by others ‘how did you two meet?’.

Years had passed since that unforgettable interaction, and both you and Boothill were happy and content in your current relationship. All of that time together with him had given you insight into how the cowboy typically behaved. He could be brash and rush into trouble head-first, but he was also immensely intelligent and could think of a plan on the fly to get himself out of even the stickiest situations. He was the type of person who frequently spoke his mind, not allowing his tampered-with Synesthesia Beacon to completely censor what he wanted to say… which is why you were as worried as you were lately.

Your boyfriend hadn’t been as talkative as he usually was. He had returned from a three-month-long trek around the galaxy a few days ago, and he had been distant ever since he came back. His replies had been clipped, and he had a strange look in his eye whenever he glanced your way; he hadn’t even looked at you for more than a few seconds since his return.

Tentatively, you made your way over to where he was sitting by an open window in your home, the breeze gently blowing the strands of his black-and-white hair to and fro. You stepped closer to stand next to him as you asked, voice tender as you spoke, “Boothill, honey, what’s wrong? You’ve been more reserved than usual these past few days, and I just want to check to see if you’re ok–…”

Then, he spoke, his voice firm as he cut off the rest of what you were going to say, “…I wanna break up.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach at his words, and you felt your palms begin to clam up with sweat as you whispered, “W… What?” You swallowed harshly, stepping closer to him as you asked, double-checking to see if you had heard him correctly, “What did you just say?”

“I said I wanna break up.” He says once more, voice rough as he turns his head ever-so-slightly to watch you from his peripheral. It felt like the world had stopped moving when he confirmed what you had always hoped you would never have to hear, and you feel your eyes begin to water. He finally, after so many days, looks at you directly after what has felt like eons. Whatever expression was on your face caused him to flinch before he looked away once more, staring at his hat on the nearby table.

Boothill sighs and runs a hand through his hair as he continues to speak, his voice gentler than usual as he tells you, “I don’t think this,” He pauses, taking his hand and gesturing toward himself before finishing his thought, “…is good fer you.”

Your emotions were fluctuating so quickly that your mind didn’t know what to do with all of them. First, you were worried about your boyfriend, then you were heartbroken when he said he wanted you two to go your separate ways, and now? Now you were angry, a sudden burst of frustration filling your veins at his reasoning behind wanting to end your relationship. Your heart aches as you exclaim, trying not to pay attention to the wetness forming along your lashes, “Excuse me? What the hell are you talking about?”

Boothill is back to refusing to look at you, so you try to move into his line of sight as you ask, your hands flailing about as you speak in a desperation-laced tone, “What, exactly, isn’t ‘good for me’ Boothill?”

He turns his head to look at you, standing up from where he had been sitting as he holds his hands out, trying to placate you as he says hastily, “Listen don’t – don’t get the wrong idea, alright?”

“How can I not get the wrong idea when you suddenly tell me you want to end our relationship!?” You yell back, feeling the tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. You were angry, sure, but the soul-crushing feeling of separating from the man you loved so deeply pierced your heart like a knife. Your frustration quickly began to be tainted with sorrow, your voice coming out softly as you ask him, your mind desperate for some kind of answer as you place a hand on your chest, “Did I… Did I do something for you to come to this decision?”

Panic floods his expression immediately as he reaches out, his hands resting on your shoulders as he leans down to look at your face. He quickly tells you, one of his hands coming up to gently cup your cheek as his thumb brushes away your tears, “No, no, no, no – you didn’t do anythin’, darlin’. You’ve been perfect in every way, I just…”

He pauses, gaze traveling to the ground as he thinks of what to say. His cold, metallic fingers against your skin are comforting to you in a way you couldn’t describe – comforting in a way no one else would be able to understand. Boothill’s eyes meet with yours once more as he continues speaking with a bittersweet smile, “You could do so much better than me, sweets. I don’t want to hold you back.”

The anger you had felt was suddenly back in full force as you asked him, brows furrowed as you questioned, “How?”

Your hands come up to hold onto his, the one that was still lovingly cupping your face as you ask, leaning forward toward him as you speak, “How could I do better than you? What are you holding me back from?”

Boothill shakes his head, saying with a frown, “There’s so many things I can’t give you… I can’t give ya a peaceful life, I can’t give ya a family…” His voice cracks slightly at the word, but he continues to speak as he begins to pull his hand away from your face, “You deserve someone who’s around more often – someone who can be there for ya whenever you need ‘em.”

Boothill chuckles bitterly, removing his hand from your grasp as walks over to grab his hat off of the nearby table, and you’ve never felt so cold and empty in your entire life. You watch helplessly as he places the hat on his head, staring as he begins to make his way toward the front door as he tells you, “You deserve someone who doesn’t cause you to jump every time their freezin’ cold hands touch ya – someone who can actually feel ya.”

You step toward him, reaching out to take his hand in yours and effectively stopping him in his tracks as you say firmly, “Boothill, shut the fuck up. Aren’t you going to at least ask me what I think about this?”

Boothill sighs, turning back around to look at you as he speaks. He doesn’t do anything to remove his hand from your grasp, instead gently squeezing it in a comforting manner as he tells you, “Listen, sweets, I just think it’s for the better that–…”

“No, it’s not.” You say, your voice strong despite the tears that had begun to flow down your face. You look up at him, bringing his hand to place on your chest as you tightly hold it over your heart, telling him firmly and genuinely despite the way your voice cracks, “I don’t care if you can’t give me those things. When did I even say that’s what I wanted in life?”

“Why wouldn’t you want that?” Boothill asks, looking down at you as if you had grown a second head, as if everything he said he couldn’t give you was something that everyone would want. He looks conflicted as he tells you, trying to take his hand back as he steps away from you and closer to the front door, “You deserve to be happy – you deserve to have someone who’s there for you.”

“What if all I want is you, huh?” You tell him, refusing to let go of his hand – refusing to let him leave your life in such a way. Your hold on Boothill’s hand was tight because you knew, deep down, if you let his hand slide out of yours, you’d never see him again. You look up at him as you speak, a spark of determination in your eyes which causes Boothill’s cheeks to flush a light shade of blue, “No one else can give me you. You’re the one that makes me happy – not some dream life, not some perfect family – just you.”

“You don’t want me, darlin’ – I promise, once I’m gone, you’ll move on an’ another lucky fella will have the honor of being able to love ya.” Boothill tells you with furrowed brows and a smile, his sharp teeth peeking out from behind his lips as he tries to convince you he’s not what you want. You could feel your eyebrow twitch in frustration at his words, your tears slowing down as you refute his claim.

“What part of ‘I want you, and only you’ do you not understand?” You ask him, a tinge of hurt and frustration mixed in your voice as you reach out to firmly hold both of his hands in your own. Boothill allows you to do so with no fanfare, a conflicted expression on his face; his fingers twitch in your hold. He watches as you close your eyes and take a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before once again looking at him as you whisper, “Listen, if you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you or hold you back, but…” You pause, smiling warmly at him before continuing, “but I want you. I want to be with you, not this hypothetical ‘fella’ you’ve envisioned who would give me a perfect life.”

Before Boothill could open his mouth to try and argue again, you quickly add on as you bring one of his hands to your lips, pressing a light kiss to his digits as you tell him, “I don’t care that you’re cold to the touch – I don’t care that we won’t have a picture-perfect life together…” You feel the tears beginning to form on your lashes again as you run your thumbs along his knuckles, telling him sincerely, “I’ve never imagined a future without you in it, love.”

Boothill looks down at you, his expression a clash between his adoration for you and the heaviness of the situation. He shakes his head, bringing one of your hands to his lips as he presses a kiss to the back of it as he tells you, voice uncharacteristically quiet as he admits, “I… I don’t want to leave, sweets. I just…” He hesitates as he makes eye contact with you, raising a brow as he once again gestures to himself as he asks, “Are you sure this is what ya want?”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” You tell him, letting go of his hands as you instead wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you as your bodies press against one another. His arms wrap around your waist on instinct, pulling you close to him as you press your foreheads together. You stare into his eyes and bring a hand to his cheek, placing your palm against his face as you run your thumb along the skin under his eye. He leans into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm as you tell him with a smile, “Rain or shine, good or bad… I want to be beside you throughout it all.”

“Heh, well… I’m glad I get to be by yer side.” Boothill says, opening his eyes once more to look at you. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your temple as he whispers, almost as if he didn’t want the world to hear him – to keep this tender moment a secret between the two of you, “…Thank you for choosin’ me out of the rest of the blokes in the galaxy, darlin’. I’m a real lucky guy to have someone as wonderful as you.”

“I’d choose you in every universe, Boothill. That’s a promise.” You reply with a smile, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, almost as if you were teasing him.

He smirks at both your words and your actions, saying with a raised brow as he leans back, tilting his hat up with one finger as he speaks, “That’s quite a big promise there, darlin’. Sure you can keep it?”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You reply, matching his expression as you huff, “Don’t doubt me, cowboy.”

“I won’t, I won’t…” Boothill says with a chuckle. He pauses, his smile faltering slightly as he looks down at you. Your eyes were still slightly red, and the stains your tears had left on your cheeks were still present. He pulls you closer to him, nuzzling his face into your neck as he takes a deep breath in, muttering against your skin, “Aeons, I love ya… I love ya so fudgin’ much.”

“I love you, too, honey.” You reply softly, running your hand up and down his back when an idea pops into your mind. It was a mischievous one, and the mere thought of it causes a smirk to grow on your lips. You reach up and grab the hat from his head as you instead place it on yours, asking him flirtatiously, “Why don’t I show you just how much I love you?”

“Well… I certainly like the sound of that.” Boothill replies lowly, his eyes half-lidded as he gently caresses your face, smirking at his hat now resting atop your head. He leans down and kisses you, whispering against your lips in a sultry tone, “Plus, I’d like to apologize for makin’ you cry… Can I, darlin’?”

The tone of his voice was enough to make your heart start beating faster, and you could feel your cheeks begin to warm as you replied quickly with a simple, “Please do.”

[crguang]

ocean eyes

You’ve never seen the ocean. Kafka introduces you to it.

fluffy as fawk, recycled the idea from that fic but it’d be like a prequel technically, 2.3k words

A/N: couldn’t stop thinking about kafka loving the sea she’s made for me atp. title only makes sense because of the other fic lol

The sea breeze washes over your being, it caresses each strand of hair and softly touches your skin like gentle hands cupping your cheeks. You feel it in your ears, a sound you’re hearing for the first time; its warmth seems to enter your lungs and clear it of past impurities with every inhale, and you wish to take a deep breath to keep it inside your chest forever.

The sensation leaves you immobile. In front of you, the ocean. A myth come true, its beauty rivaling Idrila’s. It’s vast, bigger than your mind can comprehend even after so many years spent traveling the cosmos, and a deeper blue than the sky it’s reflecting. Water has never been so alive, with waves crashing on the shore and currents on the horizon, you are facing an entity larger than life. Its depths create and harbor life that you won’t ever get to see. Your mortal eyes can only perceive a fraction of it, so small and significant. You didn’t think it was possible for water to kiss the sky, having the proof before you fills you with wonderment. Among it, some strange feeling nestles in your throat. You stand as it curls around your vocal cords and leaves you mute. Words are useless in front of something so grand, you realize, they fade away as if they've never existed at all. You lose yourself in cold blues and the occasional whites of flying seagulls, in salty air that quickly becomes your favorite scent, and you can’t speak for a long moment.

Lithe fingers, laced with your calloused ones, tighten their hold on your hand. It takes a couple blinks to tear your eyes away from the boundless sea, and you turn to Kafka’s fond smile. She’s watching you, drinking you in like you’re the precious sight and not the limitless expanse of water on the coast. A thumb swipes over the crease of your eye, lingering at the corner for a second too long, and you realize she’s wiping a tear away.

“Oh,” you exhale softly, bringing your free hand to your face. Your cheeks are wet with silent tears and you sniffle as you wipe them from your skin. “I didn’t even notice.”

“What were you thinking about so intently just now?”

You look back at the sea, an ache in your throat. The sun hides behind thin clouds and paints the world in soft colors.

“I was wondering if my planet was ever this pretty. I wish my mother could have seen it.”

Your home world fell victim to a Stellaron, like plenty throughout the galaxy. It dried most of your rivers and evaporated many of your lakes, transforming seas into lands full of sand. Water was a limited resource and a tedious thing to acquire. You remember stumbling on a picture book with various shades of blue filling some of the pages and asking your mother about it. That evening, she explained the ocean to you; never-ending, deeper than mortals can comprehend and filled with creatures your childish mind could merely compare to alien life. You thought she was making stuff up, maybe embellishing a mundane truth, but she spoke of the sea with the same tenderness she used to tuck you into bed. As you grew, you understood that it was longing in her words, a deep desire for something she would never experience in this lifetime. To you, it felt pointless to yearn for something she didn’t know; your mother was born long after the Stellaron infected your planet and spread its cancer to the roots of your world. You didn’t understand how this desire was born, where it came from. Yet, in her eyes resided a wistfulness that was only extinguished the day she died. She left the waking world longing for the sea, and memories of her constrict your chest as you stand at the edge of it.

Kafka hums, pivoting to face the water. A gentle silence settles between you as you watch the waves rise and fall on the shore. Her bare palm is warm against yours, it grounds you to the sand beneath your feet. Seagulls make a grating sound, you discover, but even their squawking can’t ruin the view before you. You feel a sudden restlessness to touch the water, to have it envelop you entirely until you feel yourself disappear in it as if absorbed.

“Can we go in the water?”

Kafka smiles. “Sure.”

Your hand slips from hers and you step out of your slides, sinking your toes into the hot sand of the beach. Sand is something you’re familiar with, it reminds you of your mom and your broken world. Comfort fills you with every step towards the waves. Kafka follows beside you, used to the sights and the sensations. She comes here every summer, but this is the first time she’s brought you along. You understand why she’d want a place like this all to herself, it brings forth a sense of serenity best enjoyed in solitude. Or, at least it did, before. Before experience brought you closer.

You hesitate somewhat once you reach the water. Your feet are submerged in it and suddenly its vastness becomes a little terrifying. Kafka walks in further until she’s standing waist deep in the water, circling hands creating ripples around her. She turns to face you with a silent question on her stretched lips.

“…I don’t know how to swim,” you confess uselessly, prompting a chuckle out of her. She knows that, obviously, since you’re unfamiliar with large bodies of water.

“We can stay on the shallow end. Don’t want you drowning on my watch, I’d get in a lot of trouble with the others.”

Kafka holds out her hand. You take it with some reticence. She brings you close enough for wet fingers to squeeze your waist affectionately. Her easy expression makes you at ease, she seems different on this planet, more carefree. She’s not wearing her contacts and her ponytail is lower than usual, its tie looser around her long locks of hair. You’re privy to a side of her you had no idea existed and you’re honored by the trust she puts in you.

“Nice, right?”

“It’s cold,” you reply, looking down at your wobbly reflections.

“Mm, I like it.”

You dip your hands beneath the water and turn your palms to the sky. Algae brushes against your calves as you move around. Kafka lets you explore, head tilting back to face the sun. You venture a bit further until your neck is the only thing sticking out of the water. Impulsively, you squeeze your eyes shut, pinch your nose with two fingers and sink into the water. Every sound is muffled in your ears, and in the darkness everything is pointless. This is different from a shower or being caught in the pouring rain, you feel light. weightless, insignificant. You wonder if that’s what your mother longed for, this freedom to be anything and anyone, drifting through the boundless sea. You emerge with a little gasp, rubbing the water out of your eyes before blinking them open.

You’re careful not to stray too far from where Kafka is drinking in the faint sunlight. Her eyes are closed when you glance back at her, chin tilted to the heavens. Her shoulders have turned a rosier color from the sun and her dark, backless bathing suit contrasts beautifully with the clear ocean blue. You walk towards her, flicking your wrist to send water flying her way. Her brows twist for a second before she looks at you with a small smile. Kafka always smiles a lot, more often than not to unsettle her opponent or prey, but there’s a softer edge to the ones she’s had since you arrived on this planet.

“What do you usually do here?” You ask, moving closer to her.

“Float. Wanna try?” Kafka holds onto your waist when you’re close enough to reach, pulling you towards her. “I can show you.”

“I don’t want to drown.”

“You’re not going to drown.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Kafka playfully rolls her eyes and takes hold of your chin with a few fingers. Her gaze follows the movement of her thumb across your jaw, then flicks up to meet yours.

“I wouldn’t let you,” she says, leaning in to press her lips on yours in a soft kiss. Your eyes flutter shut as her mouth slowly moves against yours. She pulls away after a moment and looks at you. “Do you trust me?”

“At times.”

“Well, trust me now.”

One of her hands is placed on the small of your back to support you, the other gently guides you onto your back by applying pressure on your chest.

“What if I float away,” you say, a tinge of panic enveloping you, and you grab her wrist to stay upright.

Kafka can’t help the amusement on her face. “To where?”

“Far, I don’t know.”

“Would you miss me?”

You pout. “It’s a valid fear to have.”

“It’s really not.”

“What if I float to the deep end, then it’s too late to come back and I drown because I can’t swim?”

Kafka looks at you for a moment, eyelids lowering and an amused smile on her lips. She doesn’t say anything, just stares at you like she’s thinking of something funny.

“What?” You ask, eyes narrowing.

“You killed three flying beasts twice your size at once, last week. You're scared of a little water?”

“Fuck you,” you try pushing her away, but she only presses you further into her with her arms around your waist, a laugh escaping her. “There’s nothing little about the fucking ocean.”

“Relax,” she drawls, “it won’t work if you’re tense.”

“Maybe that’s a good thing.”

Kafka curls a hand around the back of your neck and suddenly brings you closer to capture your lips with hers. Her head tilts to kiss you better, and you can’t focus on anything but the sweet kisses she presses against your mouth. Your wet hand trails up her spine, causing droplets of water to slide down her back. Your lips part to deepen the kiss when her tongue swipes over your bottom lip. You forget the argument, your muscles relax as her chest touches yours, and by the time she pulls away with a soft exhale through her nose, you almost forget your surroundings. You chase her lips as she leans back, planting a few more chaste kisses on her mouth. She indulges you for a minute, the fingers on your nape tightening their grip for an instant. You’re breathing heavier when she separates from you for good and smiles.

“Now, let’s try it again, mmh?”

Kafka teaches you how to float in the water with firm hands and occasional teasing jabs to which you would respond if she wasn’t the one standing between you and drowning. In the end, you spend most of the day at sea, learning how to keep water from going up your nose without using your fingers and the basics of swimming. Your fingertips are pruned hours later as you emerge from the water. Kafka’s still under— you bet on who could hold their breath the longest— so you dive back beneath the surface as quietly as you can. She calls you a cheater afterwards, but you distract her with wet, slippery kisses.

You’re drying yourselves on the beach as the sun sets below the horizon. You sit on your towel next to Kafka, who’s reclined on her elbows. Her eyes are closed, not a crease between her brows, and her head is tilted upwards. Before, you thought she was sunbathing, but now the temperature is slightly lower than this afternoon and the sun is no longer visible in the sky. You think perhaps she’s simply enjoying the sound of the waves and the salty air like you did earlier. It’s funny, she hasn’t told you what this place means to her; it clearly holds some sort of significance if she returns to it annually. Her way of revealing herself is unconventional at best and a little clumsy, like a fawn taking its first steps. She presents you the sea, this part of her she keeps hidden from everyone, and says nothing else. You watch the lines of her nose, the curves of her lips and their pretty pink color. Her face is bare from any makeup, her hair loose and her expression so relaxed she might’ve been asleep. She’s beautiful. You’re no longer gazing at the ocean, though you feel a familiar sense of wonder as you observe her. Your heart is light in your chest and you suddenly understand how your mother could yearn for something she’s never experienced before.

Kafka’s eyes slowly blink open. She tilts her head to meet your stare with a smile, and you long to love her like your mother longed for the sea.

“Let’s stay a little longer.”

You nod. Your limbs move before you can stop yourself; you straddle her waist, sitting on her lap and snaking your arms around her back. Kafka lets you bury your nose in the crook of her neck, using a hand in the sand to support the both of you.

“What’s that for?” There’s a teasing lilt to her voice as you breathe in the smell of the sea on her skin.

“Nothing,” you lie, pressing a kiss to her skin.

Your mouth trails up her neck to her jaw, tasting salt, and Kafka hums when you kiss her lips. It feels different to kiss her after getting acquainted with the ocean because you finally have something to compare the weightlessness that overwhelms you with each of her fervish kisses. A hand tangles itself in your hair, pulling you closer until she reclines on the ground and your body follows without missing a beat, lips locked.

You pull away to breathe in, only slightly, reveling in the sensation of her hand up your back.

“You’ll get sand in my hair,” Kafka mutters into your mouth.

“I’ll wash it for you.”

On a deserted beach and with the sea as your witness, you kiss her until the moon ascends in the sky and the waves grow stronger behind you.

[beesbiteandwillowrites]

DP x DC snippet: "To Whom Do Gods Pray?"

Danny never wanted this.

Right now, he couldn't even tell anyone what he did want. Happiness, probably, whatever that entailed. Snuggle up with Jason in one of those giant armchairs that were scattered around his keep and listen to his love read to him in a soft voice, letting the cadence of his voice lull him to sleep. Fly with him through the Infinite Realms, to the edges where the vast green expanse gave way to countless unexplored galaxies so they could stargaze together. Jump through portals together and explore new dimensions to find the ones that have the best versions of all their favourite foods.

Not sitting at the bedside of his love as Jason teetered on the edge of life and death, balancing on a knife's edge. The heart monitor beeped loudly, too loud, too fast, and Danny didn't think he could ever hear anything else than the sound of Jason's heartbeat as it tried to jump out of his chest.

"Great One," Frostbite said gently. "Your consort is strong, as he has proven time and time again."

Danny wanted to scream. Jason never should have been forced to prove how strong he was. He couldn't help but think of all the times he had been here, sitting at Jason's bedside, as Jason recovered from wounds that had him teetering on the edge, that had almost killed him.

Danny was the Ghost King, the Ruling Monarch of the Infinite Realms. He ruled the dead of any and all dimensions. He had gods kneel in front of his throne, promising their allegiance. And now he was once again powerless, nothing more than someone who prayed their lover would not die.

To whom do gods pray? Who could he ask for guidance when he could bend the fabric of the universe to his will?

"He has a good chance to pull through, Great One," Frostbite said, and Danny swallowed bile.

"When will he wake up?" he asked hoarsely, holding Jason's hand between his own.

"We are working on an antidote for the serum he has been injected with," Frostbite. "Right now, his heart rate will remain stable enough as long as he remains unconscious, but if we wake him, external stimuli will cause the serum's adrenaline response to kick in. We would not be able to guarantee his survival should that happen."

Danny's core thrummed in his chest, feeling like it was about to burst. "How long?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"A few more days, Great One. Batman used a unique serum. But we will succeed."

Frostbite laid a clawed hand on Danny's shoulder and it felt like it burned him. Danny felt like he was drowning. He wanted to scream, to cry, to hit something, anything. He wanted to hurt the man who hurt his love so much he had put him in this bed more than once before.

Batman.

Fury bubbled up Danny's throat and he almost choked on it. Batman had hurt his love time and time again and Jason had pleaded with Danny every time to let it go. Batman had slit Jason's throat in favour of the mass-murderer that had killed so many, that had so many of Danny's subjects crying out for justice. He had beaten Jason half to death on a rooftop after he had lost his friends, had kept beating him long after Jason stopped fighting back, long after he had lost consciousness. He had brought Jason back to the scene of his murder under false pretences (and Danny would never forgive Batman for all the nights he had to hold Jason through nightmares of his father beating him with a crowbar after that).

And here they were again, with Jason close to death, close to becoming a permanent part of Danny's domain, almost murdered again by the man who he still saw as his father, even after everything, and Danny was drowning in despair.

He needed Jason to wake up.

He needed him.

All Danny could do was hold his hand and pray.

To whom do gods pray when everything else has failed?

[liyue-harbour]

wish upon a star.

wriothesley x reader because of his duties as duke, wriothesley doesn’t leave the fortress of meropide often but when he does, he spends the day with you.

masterlist

on a moonlit night, you and wriothesley found yourselves perched atop a cliff overlooking the nature of fontaine. the night sky was ablaze with stars, and the gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of blooming flowers. with every whispered word, your connection deepened, and stories of dreams and aspirations spilled into the open air.

“it’s not everyday i get the opportunity to leave the fortress,” wriothesley admitted, his eyes fixed on the starlit horizon. his voice, usually firm and steady within the forrest’s walls, now held a touch of vulnerability, revealing a side of him that few had the privilege to witness. “the responsibilities of my job keep me confined, but tonight, under this celestial tapestry, i find myself truly free.”

his words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his unspoken desires. you reached out, fingers tracing the outline of his hand, offering a silent reassurance. “tonight, you are more than the duke of meropide, more than the responsibilities that bind you,” you said, your voice carrying the warmth of understanding. “under this vast sky, you are simply wriothesley, a man with dreams and hopes, just like anyone else.”

he turned his gaze to you, his eyes softened by the moon's gentle glow. in that moment, it wasn’t the duke of the fortress of meropide who looked at you, but a man longing to break free from the chains of duty, if only for a night. his voice, like a soft melody, wrapped around your heart. “do you see that star?" he asked, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "they say shooting stars are the universe's way of granting wishes."

you followed his gaze, own eyes drawn to the vast expanse of the night sky. "what would you wish for?" you inquired, voice barely louder than the rustle of leaves in the wind.

wriothesley smiled, a gentle curve of his lips that held a universe of affection. "in this moment, i have everything i desire," he replied, his words painting the night with warmth. "but if i were to wish, i’d wish for an eternity of nights like this, with you by my side. each star is a promise, and with you, my love, i find the entire galaxy in your eyes."

your heart swelled with emotion, the intensity of his words reaching deep into your soul. you reached out, your fingers entwining with his, feeling the reassuring strength of his hand. "i couldn’t agree more," you whispered, your words a promise in the quiet of the night, your breath becoming one with the wind.

[morallyinept]

Tendrils - A Din Djarin One Shot 

Summary: Admiring his art, The Mandalorian loves to tie you up in knots. A Kinbaku/Shibari session with your Nawashi Rope Master, Din Djarin. 

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.) 

Word Count: 5.6k.

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.” 

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: BDSM themes/Kinbaku/Shibari/rope play/suspension/restraint/all consensual/soft dom Din/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/oral M receiving/gagging/fingering/light choking/praise/all the good stuff.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me - you’ve been plenty warned. 

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: Originally inspired from my Pedro Boys & Kinks Ramble. Shibari is the ancient Japanese art of bondage rope tying. Kinbaku takes this same skill, but in a more emotional and sensual direction. In this story Din is your Nawashi Master. A Nawashi is a skilled rope artist who concentrates on the communication with a partner and includes sensual emotion through a heightened state of rope suspension and play. I love the idea of Din being a more gentle rope rigger enthused more so by the art of it. So here he is. 🥰

MASTERLIST | DIN DJARIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

As you peer up through the window into the depths of deep space, the galaxy sprawls before your eyes in a mesmerising display of colours and wonder.

The scene evokes a sense of awe and insignificance, as you’re confronted with the sheer scale and beauty of the cosmos. It never fails to render you wholly incapacitated; here, and on your knees for it.

The first thing that strikes you is the vastness of it all. The galaxy stretches out seemingly without end, with countless stars dotting the inky expanse.

Some stars appear as brilliant points of light, while others form clusters and constellations; their patterns etching stories of their lifetimes in the night sky.

Tinctures dance the canvas. The stars vary in hue, from the cool, icy blues of young, hot stars to the warm, fiery oranges and reds of ageing giants. Interstellar clouds of gas and dust provide a striking contrast to the stars.

These nebulae come in shades of pink, purple, but mostly blue; their ethereal glow creating a sense of otherworldly beauty that you never tire of.

Serving as the cosmic nurseries where new stars are born, and their colours reflect the processes of star formation and destruction. Life and death. An ouroboros of never-ending repetition.

Amidst the wonder, you glimpse the faint, ghostly tendrils of spiral arms, hinting at the structure of the galaxy itself. These spirals are composed of stars, dust, and gas, swirling in intricate patterns that pull your gaze deeper into the cosmic abyss.

Naked, and on your knees, glancing up at it all with big, curious eyes from within the dark, muted shadows of the docked Razor Crest awaiting its next charge, you are still.

Unmoving.

You understand why Din has you engage in this ritual before you begin; it’s pertinent to challenge the perseverance through the discomfort.

A euphoric catharsis; a form of calming meditation as you sink into the enveloping arms of deep space, before you fall into your subspace.

A moment of stillness, that’s all he seeks from you. A moment of calm in the chaos surrounding him through the vortexes of the universe.

Din observes you quietly, eyes shrouded under Beskar steel; his silhouette bleeding into the shadows of a Rorschach inkblot on the periphery of your vision.

A moment of stillness, that’s all he covets. And you give it to him so willingly. His obedient chattel, freely surrendering into the symbiotic relationship created between you both in your mutual lust for the bind.

He looks across at you and he feels the stillness swell in you; motion and fluidity traded for practiced silence and strict immobility. He approaches and when you look up into the T-shape visor, his voice rousing you to do so, your own reflection mirrors back, albeit a little wobbly.

He feels the stillness within him too when you look up at him like that. The calming of the bountiful tides from those sparkly peepers of yours.

The rope is ready, all laid out on the cot in its serpentine coils. Plentiful and scarlett. Silken, yet binding in its bite if he allows it to be. Recalling from the thesaurus of knots in his mind, he visits the exquisite Eden of his preselections.

He reaches up to test the metal ring above the cot; solid and unwavering in its Beskar rigidity of course. Pulling on it, his strength flexes in his bare sculpted arm, and it stirs you from the sights out the window of the ship.

A slight tilt of your head at the sight of him taut and muscular. The physicality of a Mandalorian comes not without its scars, but to you he is simply wondrous in all his marring.

You try to remain composed as you steal a glance at him, but your body is heated. Swollen and already wet between your thighs for what is to come.

He is soon felt at your nape, the small ghost of his fingers sending shivers through each nodule of your spine. Your toes tingle as you sit on them, kneeling and waiting patiently for him to let you fly.

Helping you to your numbed feet, Din guides you through a few slow stretches; your naked back flush to his bare chest mirrored in the window at you; centered in the silvery aura of his pale glow.

His large hands gently glide across your supple form as he lifts your arms and you feel the cracks loosening your joints furthermore as he manipulates you into shapes. Pliant and wanting and he folds you out.

He pulls back on your arms and you feel your shoulders open. He instructs you to fall as far forward as you can keeping your feet docked in between his, and you don't hesitate at his gentle instruction.

You hum out as you feel the stretch arch through your back and legs.

He worships you in this moment, in the quietude before; the thrill of your surrender. The sentient life of your trust blooming its fruit.

“Do you feel prepared enough?” His modulated voice is soft through the static.

You nod softly, feeling no vice of tension lick at your abdomen.

“Words, please.” His voice is delicate, yet commanding.

He knows how to pitch his tenor; to be heard only by you, even in the cold, distant hums of the Razor Crest. Even in the swarmed crowds in the marketplace on Navarro.

“Yes. I’m ready,” you breathe. You’re always ready for him; the telltale heat felt on your cheeks and collarbone confirm it.

He draws a deep breath of his own, preparing. It crackles in your ear as he exhales.

"Breathe. Move only through your stillness. Be at one with the calm. Tell me to stop if you require."

You nod, obeying him. Falling furthermore into him.

He swears he can feel you grow closer in those moments of your calm obedience; your roots finding their way through his damp soil as he waters you to bloom.

Din shows you the rope he will use for this session, letting you feel it with your fingers, absolving any ligaments of fear you may have.

The rope is his tool; a chisel with which he carves you into new shapes through methodical repetition. And it's a tool that brings a comforting sense of tranquility almost immediately as you fondle it.

His hands glide up the sides of your waist as you take it from him to inspect and enjoy and you shudder as goose pimples flood your torso.

He strokes towards the mounds of your breasts where he cups over them, pinching the nipples that stiffen gently as he rolls them between his thumb and forefinger.

You hiss in rapture at the pull and squeeze of them; the cool weight of his helmet is pressed against the back of your skull as you mew gently around your gasps.

“Mmm,” you whine and he approves with a groan of his own. Groping gently and feeling how your nipples harden still.

"Distracted?" You ask with a coy smirk.

"Always," he confirms with a ghostly murmur as he watches you hiss again as he pulls a little tighter on your nipples.

He’ll tease you like this as he binds you; stopping momentarily to touch your skin, marvelling as your warm flesh turns pimply with the trails of his digits that tickle and tingle.

He’ll take his sweet time in annihilating you.

He takes the rope back from you; ataraxy settles in your features. You can see it in the mercury sheen of his helmet as he turns to unwind the jute silk from its sleeping coil.

He pauses for a moment, perhaps in reflection, perhaps in some unknown hesitation. His thumb brushes against the cleft of your bottom lip affectionately. A last confirmation of your willingness to relinquish the exquisite restriction of your control.

He drops his hand and then he begins.

Din always ties you tightly, but never constricts to the force of unbearability. He knows how to apply the right pressures into your skin, your veins.

Din knows just how you like it.

He knows this is what your energy demands of him in the moment, akin to his own. You give your all to him whilst he knots the rope delicately around your limbs as you become one with it.

He feels it each time you sag, relax fully into the depths of your submission. Hears the pliant murmurs of your sighs as they leave your mouth and slip up inside his helmet for him to taste and swallow down with your sweetness.

Your complicitness in your trust for your Nawashi Master always astounds him.

In the delicate artistry of his preferred practice of Kinbaku, the first knot Din chooses is the Hishi Karada. A full torsoed harness that resembles diamonds when woven across the front of your body.

The silken lines snake up and around your neck like a halter; a living entity slithering sensually over your skin. He watches your reactions as he fastens and loops; the way your eyes dilate and your smile widens.

Then follows the Takate-Kote. Chest loading for the final suspension, your arms are crossed gently behind your back, holding onto each elbow. He slides the loops into place around your wrists.

Your bare chest presented out to him further as the cavity is restrained and pushed forward; nipples tight and hardening again as he fashions the rope into twists between your breasts.

He draws the line around and over, criss-crossing delicately. He curves and braids and pulls tight to cinch, and soon the first bindings of your ropes are complete around the diamonds.

“How does that feel, good?” Din checks in with you, stopping entirely until you give him a verbal response.

“Yes,” you nod. “It feels good. Comfortable.”

"Then I'm doing it wrong," you hear him chuckle gently and you smirk.

"No. It's always perfect. Like you."

He stops again for a moment and you feel him looking at you from under the helmet, slightly cocked to one side as he regards you silently.

It makes your skin warm again after a few moments, the intensity of his gaze on you; even if you can't see it.

The anfractuous dance continues over your skin as he gathers himself and attaches the second line of rope. Silken trails are bound snug against your flesh and feel weighted - secure. You’re not going anywhere once he has you.

Din succumbs to the rhythm of the tie. Each weave calls to him and he yields to its haunting Siren song.

A candescent mesmerisation in a shrill undoing of his soul. The flow of the rope, the flow of you all around him; the flood of blood to the end of his heavy cock.

After a fairly short passing of time, the Takate-Kote is complete, and you stand before him bound in the invitation of your innocence.

The ample curve of your breasts rising and falling of their own with each deep breath you take; swollen and further bouyant by the ropes lifting them to their maximum pertness.

Din attaches the first of the longer lines that will suspend you fully; his hand closing around your throat gently to pull you closer towards him as he works.

When you swallow, he can feel it against his palm as he threads through the ring and pulls you up onto the bone of your big toes; his elegant ballerina.

You feel his fingers stroke through the nape of your hairline and you shudder.

He kneels then, to worship at your feet, more of the jute attached in his hands. Din turns his helmeted head up at you and your reflection greets you back once more.

You're a vision in scarlet lines and knots against your flesh. You beam down at him in your satiated grace enjoying the feeling it evokes.

"This amuses you?" He takes note of your jaw stretched wide in that blinding grin he knows only too well.

"No," you smile wider.

"Well, it amuses me. Greatly. "

"Sadist." You chirp and he tugs on the rope with severity making you jostle again and your giggles tinker out of you freely and more ungraceful. "You play dirty." You snort.

"That's surely the only way to play." Din clicks jubilantly. "Hold still."

He gently folds your left leg back first; heel pressed to the back of your thigh top, and starts scribing the story of the Futomomo Spiral on your skin like a brand.

He knows this will be a challenge for you, but you're resolute in your eagerness to withstand, to endure. To please the bounty hunter who captured your heart.

He senses that from you; he senses your limits and knows how far to push you and when to retrieve you from that place where pleasure morphs into torrid pain.

Sometimes, he’ll let you pendulum between the two; he knows that you want to taste it as its heat licks at your curiosity.

Careful and slow with his ties, Din weaves the sinuous ladders cinching down each line.

He tugs gently and you feel it on your pressure points. Your heightened gasp floods his blood with liquid heat when he does it once more.

“Good?” He checks in again, his thumb circling the meat of your inner thigh, inches from your bare sex.

The scent of you wafts under his helmet making his mouth salivate.

“Yes,” you confirm again through a breathy sigh.

You can feel the dull ache in your leg now that it’s up, leaving you balancing tenderly on your right big toe as you strictly steady yourself from your core not to waver or swing.

You giggle again when you fail, leaning and twirling, and he smiles in response in the secretive confines of his helmet. He never scolds you for laughing; he enjoys that music too much.

He takes your other leg, and repeats the same pattern and you’re suspended from the ring completely, swaying gently against him as he finishes off the beautifully delicate pattern.

Din stands, gathering the last of the rope and pulling backwards as you arch and tip forward, hair falling into your face. He pauses for a moment, glorifying again in the feel of your body pressed close to him whilst he secures you in precise, mathematical knots.

Nose pressed flush against his shoulder where a prominent scar welts there in its ferociousness, and you can’t help but to taste the salt of the ridge as you plant a delicate kiss there.

It disorientates him for a moment; you hear the soft whoosh of his breath flow out from under the helmet warming your cheek.

"Now who's playing dirty, hmm?" He teases.

Din's last step is to braid the remaining overhang of the line into your hair. He scoops it gently out of your face, granting you your vision back as he secures the braid at the end. His fingers weaving across your skull emits a low simper from you.

You squirm and pout as he pushes you back into the air and stills you by the shoulders.

"Almost there, Mesh’la."

Din finally ties you off, pulling you higher as you mourn the loss of his touch. His breath is now coming slow and steady; that calm absolving him of the primaeval misdeeds of his bounties.

He smiles and strokes your cheek tenderly as you let your head fall forward into gravity where you'll hang for a time determined only by him.

“There,” his voice is a whisper, canted in the grizzled tones that only you can hear. The ground beneath his feet ripples like water as he admires the finished sculpture of your form.

He can feel your bliss flooding you; the elation of your aura bursting around the embrace of the ropes, sinking into the fibres to glow with you. You’re a vision in your contortion. How a God would craft his kin from his rib.

He instigates one last check of your restraints before he settles back on the cot underneath you, flat on his back and propped up by the cushion of his bicep under his helmet.

Watching keenly as his masterpiece sways and rotates gently in a slow orbit above him to the backdrop of the cosmos outside.

He watches from inside the helmet as the vacillation of your constricted ballet gravitates above him. An angel clipped of their wings; your body pretzeled into a shape that defies profundity. He watches, he exudes calm.

He’s found his stillness at last.

A low moan slips from your lips, rousing him back from his utopia. It's then he notices the shine; the singular bead of your slick glistening as it makes a track down your inner thigh. He’s exposed you fully to him and his cock twitches in response at your pleasure in him doing so.

He longs to taste it; to feel that sweet tang dance over his taste buds again and flood his mouth like juicy fruit. He could have you for as long as he wanted, you'd just have to take it.

Take all of him as he pummels, as he fucks without abandon. Pulling you back onto him controlled only by the swing of the rope; his violence planting flowers under your skin, cracking you open as they bloom.

You’d be unable to move, to resist as he pulls your pleasure from you in droves and drowns you in his own. Works you through the overstimulation you feel after you come, forcing you to confront it for however long he pleases and you'd shudder and cry that you can't take anymore. All you could do is take as he gives.

Your face is what captures him again; stills any restlessness he unwittingly clings to fully. Blissed out, your mouth slack and your pupils wide. High in your subspace as you dangle above him; a twirling pirouette frozen in movement for him to marvel at.

In that fleeting, dreamy moment, Din understands that euphoria is not just an individual sensation; it’s something that could be heightened when two souls come together in perfect harmony to share.

You’re the pliant, obedient ying to his commanding yet soothing yang. He feels it bleed into him from you.

You watch above him; his form spinning slowly on the cot as you turn on an axis. See how his hand strokes along the pallet of his chest, down to the soft plume of his stomach and grips tightly over his cock. Squeezing and cupping the heavy weight of it through his pants as he strangles a groan.

You bite your lip, you want him so badly when you’re so open and exposed like this. When you fly for him. Just the way he constructed you to. Holes ready and waiting to be filled if he so wishes.

Or he could leave you wanting, contracting around nothing in a frozen anticipation.

Craving for him to fill you and take from you as you’re helpless in your binds. For him to enjoy this exquisite piece of art he's crafted out of you.

And the exquisitiness of it all is that you never know if he will or not.

Your knees and ankles ache; the dull thrum of the blood pumping harder around the knots to keep your limbs on the precipice of a pleasant numbness.

Your conscious thoughts are a mere whisper; a single nagging moment quickly lost amidst the chaos of desire and need for the Mandalorian who has constructed you from clay with his thick, calloused fingers.

Bringing you in warm to experience the highest sensations of pleasure: this is the way he shows his love.

His flight suit and steel have been long traded for soft Harem pants hanging dangerously low on his waist. A faint smattering of dark curls trail from below his belly button into the front of them and you glimpse the obvious bugle that swells within them that he fondles brazenly.

Watching hungrily as he now slips his hand inside the front, you whimper and struggle against your bindings. Your body jerks in that wanton haze.

A noise similar of that to a swamp Dagobah escapes you on a croaked strangle.

“Patience,” his voice is tensile, and yet somehow discernible above the tumult of the blood now pumping in your ears; its sonorous strains slipping between frenetic chaos to find you mindlessly incoherentat the sight of his swell.

You tremble at the overwhelming power in his voice, and you know you’ll always do whatever he asks of you.

Feral intensity spikes hard inside your cunt as Din pulls his hard, weeping cock out of his pants. The swollen head, a flush pink, he runs his thumb over the glistening diamond of precum that sparkles at you and you lick your lips involuntarily wishing you could taste it.

Your arousal and the dampness between your thighs is prevalent as your skin begins to bead with sweat. Heat flooding over your limbs furthermore. The fine tendrils at the back of your neck, missed from the braid, stick to it.

Din pumps his cock languidly, but you can feel the grip of his fingers tighten around his thick shaft pinch all over your flesh that isn’t bound.

Absorbing his passion, your own builds, coating the lips of your cunt in glistening concupiscence.

He seeks to remind you of your tangible agony with those snuffled grunts he pollutes around the Razor Crest, echoing around his ears inside the helmet, and you can hear their veracity as they intensify with the motion of his wrist.

“Please,” you whine above him; your body twirling around faster as you struggle and itch against the fibres.

“What do you seek?” His words are a taunt, not so much a question and you can hear the slick around his teeth through the modulator as he grins. He enjoys your agony very much when you're strung above him like this.

Delicate. Helpless.

“Please, Din. Don't make me beg.” You pout again as he speeds up and the sounds of the gentle slaps of his wet dick inside his fist supernovas on your clit.

"Why? I enjoy it when you beg."

“You, I need...” You're panting now. His jerking intensifies, as do his groans.

“There’s a place amongst the stars for you soon." His body tenses as he works himself into a frenzy. Teasing the fractals of your distress to the surface.

You can only watch as he pleasures himself below you. So near, yet so incredibly far; separated by a vast expanse of the galaxy outside. The agony it births within you starts to crush your bones as you writhe against the knots.

“Find your stillness,” he commands in a soothing tone; his voice jostling from his speedy fisting around his cock. You stop struggling, the bite around your limbs begins to lessen instantly.

You whine furthermore as you watch him; he denies you what you so desperately want.

“Please…” Your voice is strangled by the patheticness of your requisite. And it's enough to make him break in his own selfish need to deny you any further.

Din Djarin can never deny you.

Sitting upright, he pulls on the line descending you gently towards him. Laying back, you hover over him like an apparition, scant inches above his skin.

He maps out your route, controlling your mouth on his torso, where he wants your tongue as you kiss and lick wet tracks over him, barely reaching his flesh at times. Your constant battle for his loins amuses him in your desire to resist him, yet the Mandalorian’s resolve only takes him so far.

"Open," he instructs and your lips part.

Weakened by you, he feeds you his cock, finally, allowing it to slip between your lips. A grunt escapes as he slides into your mouth, meeting with the wet, spongy flesh at the back of your throat.

“That’s it, good.” Din whines, his hands on the back of your head gently; right fist wound around your roped braid and tugging it, controlling your depth. He knows all too well how eager you are to swallow him down. But he wants this to last.

"So good for me."

Breathy husks escape him, rattling through the modulator and out into the ether. The obscene wet sounds of your earnest sucking and his dirty grunts, makes you pulse.

The prominent, swollen vein on the underside of his cock warms to the surface by your mouth and you feel your lips ridge over it.

“More,” Din instructs through a wheeze.

You open up further, relaxing your throat at his command and he slips in further still. Deeper into the crevice of your trachea and you feel the heaves already swelling at the bottom of your gut.

"Relax. Wider for me. You can take it all, I know you can... That's it. So good when you relax for me..."

Slowly, and with gentle cajoling, you take him fully, right down to his balls where your chin sinks into the plumpness of them.

Your nostrils are tickled by the soft scratch of pubic fuzz around the base of his shaft. You inhale soap, his own salty musk and the faint aroma of metal.

Another satisfied grunt escapes from under the helmet. You flick your tear-filled eyes up to see the shape of his chin pointed to the sky from within the helmet. The faint shadows of light stubble that dance over it and entice you to lick the roughness there.

You've never seen his face, have never bore witness to the spectacle of it. And yet you know every feature, every crook of his smile and every flex of his brow underneath the Beskar when he finds his pleasure.

Closing your eyes, you're mindful of your respect, and just enjoy the sounds he makes for you instead.

"There you go... this is what you wanted, hmm?" He fucks your mouth deeply; gentle rhythmic thrusts from his hips as you moan and drool around the fullness of him.

A thick, pearly strand of your saliva plops onto his thigh as it dangles from your mouth. His cock lubricated wholly in your eagerness to please.

He pulls out momentarily to stroke it all over himself, slather up his cock with your sputum before pushing it between your lips once more.

"Again."

You gasp and heave. Your eyes water and finally spill tears over your cheeks from the strain.

"Beautiful," he whispers. His thumbs smear them away. A choke splutters out of you as he nudges against the gag reflex, the back of your throat clamping around him involuntarily in response.

The punch either side of his thick head makes him groan deeply. His fingers twist around your scalp as he pushes himself fully into the hilt of your throat.

Your pussy is dripping, you can feel it sticking on the insides of your thighs and your clit aches with a pinch of pain sparking as you suck.

You squeeze, chasing the exalted feeling as your pelvic floor contracts against the right places inside of you and you moan around him; the hum on his bulbous head in your throat delighting him furthermore.

Din knows what you're doing though, your squirming pulls him from the throes of his pleasure as he sits up and reaches his arm across the roped pleats over your back.

"So needy..." His fingers swipe down your crack, prodding at your lips; slipping down into the gooey ribbons of your pussy as your face remains buried in his crotch - his cock still in the back of your skull as you suck on it eagerly.

The whine you let go of tribs around his length as he swipes his pads across the nub of your clit. Your body jerks in response. He slides his fingers inside your hole that’s so ready for him; drenched and so tight.

Din feels it as you come almost instantly from a few pumps of his fingers; studies your face as he pulls his cock out of your mouth, listens to the sounds you make from his fingers fapping harder inside you.

"You're going to do that for me again, Mesh'la."

He brings you to the edge once more, and instead of holding you back or denying you, he lets you fly. He wants to see your colours and bask in their vividness as they blind him. To feel you tighten and constrict around his fingers.

"So beautiful."

He knows this is real, knows that he makes you feel these things for him as your eyes roll back and that heat floods your body, rising from the pit of your core like a sleeping giant.

Snapping back like an elastic band. Wandering through the realms of sheer euphoria with a kindred spirit to guide the way.

“Din!” You yelp as your bound body twists and contorts, and he keeps you steady in the air on the end of his fingers. "It's too much, I-"

"There is no such thing as too much. Your body wants it. Silence your mind and let it soar."

"Mmm, yes!"

“Give yourself to me…” He instructs. “Let me have all of you.” Din slaps your pussy, the thunder from his gargantuan palm shooting into your clit and all through your body.

It moves at his command, arching and twisting as it yields. "Let go..."

And you do. You flood his fingers as he reinserts them; silken and warm as you expand and float off to be at one with the gaseous stars.

Din loosens the line fully and manoeuvres you onto your back on the cot. Sitting above your face, meaty thighs either side of it, he strokes your bottom lip. His breath catches as you kiss it.

"You flew."

You nod. "Yeah."

"You think you can fly some more?"

"Yes." You quiver.

"Good. Open." He plunges his cock in deep into your throat as you choke and gag around it, only pulling out when he knows you will need to take a breath, timing it in his head. Timing how long you could take it before you’d turn blue like the nebulae and splutter.

"Breathe... like I taught you. Use your nose."

Breathing correctly, you can keep him there, at the back of your larynx as he fucks your face with a little more vigour now; your wet, gummy flesh pulsing against the head of him as you try to intake air and he makes it last that bit longer each time.

He grips gently around your throat as he reaches back and pinches your clit, rolling it through his fingers tightly and making you gasp from the overstimulation.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head from lack of oxygen and too much pleasure as the shock waves of your orgasm continue to tingle and burn their way through you until you're smashed dust amongst the stars.

Din looks down at you through the T-visor, taking you all in as he makes you his art, his finest masterpiece yet. The knots and weaves moving as one with your body.

He pulls out again, groaning as you suck one of his balls eagerly into your mouth, his other hand stroking the length of his cock that’s fatter and twitching around his fist. A cerise pink head that's angry and wanting, and leaking again.

He’s so close. He wants you to have him, have you swallow him down into your belly. He instructs you to spit on it and he watches with abject rapture as you decorate him in foamy crystal strings.

He growls at the sight of it, and it makes all your ribs snap.

You suck him down again and swallow deep, feeling him prod at the back of your throat once more as he guides and controls you with subtle flexes of his hips; his hand knotting in your braid. His grunts are felt on the end of your clit, his satisfaction tingling all through your body.

He can't hold on much longer, he wants you. Want to feel you milk him of his resolve. Take from him what he wants you to have.

He unties you from the ring, catching you steady in his arms as he sits back with you, lifting you into his lap. Your arms are still bound around your back and legs still bent into his crafted shapes.

“I've got you, cyar'ika.” He assures as he holds you steady and he feels you relax into his grip keeping you upright. “Sing for me,” he groans as he sinks you down onto his hard cock and you gasp at the intrusion of his swell.

"Mmmaaha," you whine, dizzy and hot.

"I know, just a little more. Move with me." Din whispers. "That's it, good. Keep it going."

You ride him slowly, gently as his arms wrap you up and hold you close to him, almost crushing the life out of you as his hips buck up to meet yours in this sensual grind.

He's so deep like this. You gasp out, letting go as he fills you up, stretching you open; making you detach and lose yourself in this moment inside the safe lock of his arms - inside of him.

You're gone. Completely dissociated and only he is your God. Your Kad Ha'rangir. You’re not afraid to be lost with him. And he knows that eventually, you will help him find his way out too.

Ephaptic coupling, synapses firing, neutron stars colliding; you burst open from your seams with a choked screech, your skin tight around the bindings and rope, and yet you don't feel them anymore. You feel free as you float and soar and take Din with you by the hand.

Your slick drenches him as your cunt tightens, and he falls with you, letting himself explode with you and calling out for you in his momentary blinding.

His body shudders as he releases, filling you to the brim with his plentiful warmth; coming hard and feeling like he'll never stop.

Smashed. Wrecked. Gone. Your bodies are just empty husks until the gold of your souls return from the vastness of space to rejoin the sensations that still ebb and flow in your veins.

"There," he gasps a little while after he's reborn. "Breathe... slowly. Deep."

Your forehead falls weakly against the coolness of his helmet; a soft bonk as your breath fogs it up whilst you inhale slowly in and out, coming back to dreamy reality and leaving the stars hanging in the universe where they belong.

Din's fingers dance over the thin skin of your lips. You taste them as you delicately kiss the pads of them, one by one as they pass, tender and sweet. Your eyes find his behind the helmet and despite not glimpsing them or knowing their true colour, you can still see them.

You place a gentle kiss on the side of the helmet; your lip print soon a ghostly fade.

"How are you hanging in there?" Din asks, a gentle tug on your woven restraints.

Your breathy giggle answers him and he knows now that this is what it must feel like to die.

You feel him begin to loosen the knots against your back after some time of cradling you against his chest. Listening to his heartbeat as it slows to a natural beguiling rhythm that makes you sleepy.

Slowly, your arms are freed; the ache in your bones is palpable as you wind your shoulders out. He frees your legs and lays you back on the cot admiring the welted indents that have left trenches of their patterns in your skin.

He traces them with a wandering fingertip, eliciting shudders from you as he trawls over your body before massaging the feeling back into your calves.

“Please, eyes closed, Mesh'la.” Din exhales and you respect his wish to be unbroken in his creed. You close your eyes and wait. Wait for the bow to break and then you'll fall into the starry abyss again as his lips finally greet your skin.

It's always the part of your sessions that you long for the most.

Din removes his helmet, placing it close by on the cot. The trust he has in you not to open your eyes is felt blossoming in your ventricles. You remain true to your promise and never take a sneaky peep.

You feel his soft lips kiss along the intricate indents on your flesh, tasting and licking around the swirls, the places where your skin turned a dark shade of mauve.

He gives life to your blood as it flows back into the tingly limbs.

You reach blindly into his crown, rifling through the softness of his hair; slightly damp around the nape of his neck as he kisses further up your body.

Din stops to gently suck your nipple into his mouth and pull it out of the puff of your areola to tease. He enjoys the delectable moans it pulls from you far too much. So much so, that it hardens him again.

But he knows you've reached your limit for now as you lay serene on the cot; eyes closed with a heady smile bleached into your features.

You're more beautiful to him now than you've ever been.

He licks up your clavicle towards your lips where he finally tastes you. Slipping his tongue inside your mouth, waltzing with yours as the warm flesh of his thick cock lays against the inside of your thigh.

"Din..." you croon, reaching blindly for him between your aching legs, but he stops you.

"Rest now. I'm here. You need sleep." He pulls you closer to him, cocooning you into the protective shell of his battered body.

It feels like forever since he was this close; this bound and tied to you in equal measure.

As he kisses you deeply, you wait with a satiated eagerness slipping under your heavy eyes for the next time when your Mandalorian, your Nawashi Master; your Kad Ha'rangir… Your Din Djarin of Clan Mudhorn, lets you fly freely again to the stars.

I really hope you enjoyed Nawashi Master Din! 🥹 I enjoyed writing this so much. Please, let me know your thoughts. I'd always love to hear them. 🖤

MASTERLIST | DIN DJARIN MASTERLIST

[kiidqr]

Blooming in the Sickness

Reader/Argenti, Argenti Honkai Star Rail, Angst, Character Death, First Post, Fanfiction, 1.3K Words, Honkai Star Rail, English.

Summary:

As the formidable knight of beauty he was, Argenti finds you lost in a place not deserving of such a pure soul as you. Which actively turns out to demonstrate that he has fallen for something more than solely your outside stunning beauty.

Unfortunately, things didn't go as planned...

...

Your face had been pale and sickly for some time now. Not wanting to burden your loved one, on deathbed you've decided to deliver one last rose to him.

Blooming in the Sickness

The interstellar winds whispered through the vast expanse of space as Argenti, the noble knight of the Knights of Beauty, traversed the cosmos on his solitary journey. His silver armour gleamed under the distant stars, a beacon of unwavering commitment to the Path of Beauty. Little did he know that his path was about to intersect with a fleeting moment of beauty that would change him forever.

You, an enigmatic traveller with a heart filled with grace and kindness, had been a silent companion to Argenti in his interstellar adventures. Your paths crossed on a desolate moon, and from that moment, a subtle connection began to blossom. Though you spoke little, your actions spoke volumes, and Argenti found solace in your company.

"As the stars above, you appeared in my solitude, a gentle whisper in the cosmic winds," Argenti mused one evening as you both gazed at the distant galaxies. "Why do you accompany me, traveller, on this lonesome journey?"

Your response was a soft smile, eyes reflecting the luminosity of distant constellations. "In the vastness of the cosmos, I saw a kindred spirit. A knight dedicated to beauty, yet burdened by the weight of solitude. I wished to share this journey with you, to bring warmth to the cold expanse."

As the days turned into weeks and weeks into months, a unique bond grew between Argenti and you. Nights were spent beneath the celestial canopy, sharing stories of distant realms and dreams that echoed in the cosmos. The silent moments spoke louder than any words could convey.

Argenti, usually reserved and composed, found himself opening up to you in ways he never imagined. "I never thought I would find a companion in this solitary pursuit," he confessed one evening as you both watched the stars. "Your presence brings a new light to my path."

You smiled, reaching out to gently touch his hand. "The beauty of the cosmos is best appreciated when shared, Argenti. We walk this path together, bound by the threads of fate and the love that silently grows between us."

One day, as you explored the vibrant gardens of a celestial haven, you discovered a rare celestial rose – a flower of unparalleled beauty, said to hold the essence of the cosmos itself. With a gentle touch, you plucked the rose, and in that moment, you decided to send it to Argenti along with a letter expressing your gratitude for the shared moments.

As the rose arrived at Argenti's side, its delicate petals whispered a tale of unspoken emotions. Argenti, curious and touched by the unexpected gift, carefully unfolded the letter. In the quiet solitude of his ship, he read your words, written with love and adorned with a poignant farewell.

"Dear Argenti,

In the tapestry of the cosmos, our paths converged like stars in the night sky. Your unwavering dedication to the Path of Beauty has illuminated my journey, and for that, I am eternally grateful.

As the celestial rose graces your presence, let it be a symbol of the beauty we found in the vastness of the cosmos. Our moments together were fleeting, yet they were the most cherished. Continue to walk your path with the same grace that guided us.”

"Do you remember the night we first spoke of our dreams, Argenti?" the letter continued. "I saw a galaxy in your eyes, and in that moment, I knew my heart had found its home. Though our time together is brief, the love that bloomed between us is eternal."

"As the final petals fall, know that my spirit will linger among the stars, and our love will endure in the cosmic winds.”

“I love you.”

Argenti's heart sank as the weight of your words settled upon him. He clutched the celestial rose close to his chest, feeling the fragility of life encapsulated in its petals. The realisation struck him like a celestial storm – the silent companion he had grown to cherish was slipping away, and he had been oblivious to your struggle.

A mix of emotions overwhelmed Argenti as he recalled the shared moments, the laughter, and the silent exchanges that spoke of a love that transcended the boundaries of time. He whispered your name into the cosmic winds, a prayer for your soul to find peace among the stars.

In the vastness of space, Argenti continued his journey, carrying the celestial rose as a poignant reminder of a beauty that once bloomed in the cosmos – a beauty that silently faded away, leaving only the echo of your unspoken farewell.

As the starlight dimmed and the galaxies continued their dance, Argenti vowed to honour the memory of the silent companion who had taught him that even in the cold expanse of space, love could be a beacon, guiding one's path with warmth and grace.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, yet Argenti's heart remained heavy with the weight of your absence. He found solace in retracing the paths you once walked together, visiting celestial havens where memories lingered like echoes of a distant melody.

One day, as he explored a crystalline asteroid belt, a beacon of ethereal light caught his attention. As he approached, he “saw” an imaginary projection of you, smiling amid the twinkling stars.

"Argenti," the image said, "Know that my essence lingers in the cosmic winds. Our love was a fleeting bloom, but its fragrance remains in the corners of the universe."

Argenti's eyes glistened with unshed tears as he listened to your words. "I never revealed the truth, for I wished to spare you the burden of my fate. The celestial rose was a token of the love we shared, a love that will endure beyond the boundaries of time."

The imaginary projection extended a hand, and a radiant rose materialised within it. "Take this, my love. Let it be a reminder that even in the vastness of the cosmos, our love transcends the limitations of mortal existence. Carry it with you, and may it bring you warmth on the coldest of nights."

The projected image faded, leaving Argenti standing alone amid the silent beauty of the asteroid belt. In his hands, he held the radiant rose, a symbol of love that reached beyond the boundaries of life and death.

As Argenti continued his journey through the cosmos, the celestial rose became a source of both sorrow and solace. Each petal held the essence of your love, a love that had blossomed like a silent bloom in the heart of the noble knight.

In the quiet moments of interstellar solitude, Argenti found himself whispering to the rose, sharing thoughts and dreams as if you were still by his side. The cosmic winds carried his words across the galaxies, a tribute to the silent companion who had left an indelible mark on the noble knight's heart.

The beauty of the cosmos unfolded before Argenti's eyes, a vast tapestry of stars, nebulas, and galaxies that seemed to dance in harmony with the celestial rose in his hands. Each celestial body became a reflection of the love that once flourished between two wandering souls.

One fateful day, as Argenti stood on the edge of a cosmic precipice, he felt a gentle breeze, a whisper in the cosmic winds that echoed with a familiar warmth. Closing his eyes, he imagined your presence, and in that moment, he knew that your love, like the celestial rose, had become a timeless beacon in the cosmic tapestry.

In the quiet vastness of space, Argenti continued his journey, carrying the celestial rose as a reminder that love once again, even in its silent bloom, could transcend the boundaries of time and space. As the stars above witnessed the noble knight's solitary voyage, they bore witness to a love that endured, a love that whispered through the cosmic winds, and a love that remained eternally engraved in the heart of Argenti.

[arxims]

MOONSTRUCK prologue

Returning to Seoul was a decision that you finally ended up in , given that it was the place where you spent your past years. Leaving your messed up past behind, you made the conscious choice to return to Seoul in order to breathe new life into your existence. Little did you know that this decision would change your life. For the good or bad. As you reconnected with an old friend from your past, you were introduced to his younger brother, whose presence became far more significant in your life in a twisted way than you thought.

genre/au : psychopath!Jungkook x fem!oc,angst, smut, non idol au, violence.

Warnings : swearing and explicit language, graphic depiction of violence and gore, lots of blood, mentions of rape, smut, sexual activity, toxic Jungkook, walking red flag Jungkook, gaslighting, manipulation, schizophrenia, psychopathic behavior red flag behavior, mentally disturbed characters, suicide, murder, depictions of torture, serial killing, relationship abuse, lots of trauma, depression, criminal behavior, murderous tenancies, possible major character death, mentions of child abuse, narcissism, did I mention psychopathy? Oc never learns,

Rating : mature

Word count :1k

Part 0/?

MASTERLIST

Next chapter>

The rooftops always held a special place in your heart, no matter the building. Even if it wasn't your own apartment, there was a sense of comfort that enveloped you on rooftops under the twinkling stars and the gentle glow of the moon. Your fondness for the moon was undeniable, and you had great pleasure in watching its serene presence in the night sky.

As you made your way to the rooftop railing, you gently pulled him along with you, holding his hand, a playful smile dancing on your lips. "Would you care to join me in stargazing, Mr. Jeon?" you inquired, your eyes sparkling with anticipation. You didn't need the vast expanse of the sky and a rooftop to admire the stars when you could see an entire galaxy reflected in his mesmerizing eyes.

Seating yourself at the edge, your legs dangled freely as you patted the space beside you, inviting him to share in the moment. He approached you with a casual grace, his hands tucked into the pockets of his sweater, his head shielded by the hood. "What is this little kitten up to?" he teased, leaning in closer to you.

“The little kitten has some things to say. Before that get your ass here”. You found more liking towards his playful side , preferring it over the man who stirred up both nerves and desire within you. Jungkookie was more to your liking. Granting your unspoken request, he took a seat beside you.

As he settled in, you wrapped his left arm with your own, resting your head gently on his shoulder. Physical touch was a language you both spoke fluently, and Jungkook had grown accustomed to your sudden displays of affection.

"Can you believe it's been a solid four months since we met?" you playfully nudged him, a sly grin on your face. That day etched itself into the hall of fame of your memory "And look at us now, still going strong," you teased. He just hummed then chuckled in response, a twinkle in his eye. "Oh, I know about it all (Y/N/N)," he quipped with a smirk.

"But, you don't know about the next thing I'm gonna tell you" You raised your head, fixing him with a serious look. With a grin, you gently cupped his cheeks, “ I think I might just be falling for you, Jungkook. It's been brewing for months, and I've finally cracked the code. I love you."

His lips curved into a sly smile, oozing confidence like it was going out of style. "Oh, I already knew that, too" he quipped, his cockiness practically radiating off him. "But let's be real, you don't love me."

"Excuse me? You're the expert on my feelings now?" You rolled your eyes, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement at his audacity.

He poked his cheek with his tongue, a chuckle escaping him that seemed to say, 'Oh, you sweet, naive thing.' "You're such a rookie, (Y/N). You barely scratched the surface with me.”.

"Jungkookie, I don't need to go into the depths of your past. Our future is not in our hands as well, as you told me. It's the present that matters, isn't it?" With a subtle tilt of your head, you silently pleaded for him to grasp your perspective.

"What if my present isn't as pleasant as you think.?" He mirrored your gesture, his expression leaving you in a state of confusion. Intentionally. “Life is not always sunshine and rainbows”

"I don't care about that .You called me naive. Well, then let me embrace that label," you declared, lifting your head slightly.

A shiver ran down your spine as his fingers traced a path from your neck to your earlobe, a familiar gesture. The goosebumps that formed on your skin could have been from the cool night air or the mere presence of his fingertips on your delicate skin, a sensation that left you questioning.

He finally spoke up, pausing his gentle caresses. "Tell me why then," he inquired, his voice soft yet demanding.

"I don't know why," you managed to whisper, your thoughts completely captivated by the galaxy he had trapped in his eyes. You felt as though you could lose yourself in their depths, finding solace in the vastness they held.

"That's not a proper answer , Sweetheart," he remarked, removing his hood. His semi-long hair mingled with the gentle city breeze that wafted continuously, adding a serene ambience to the surroundings.

After a moment of contemplation, you organized the thoughts swirling in your mind and found the words to express them. "You're my moon, Jungkook. You light up my dark world, even if it's just a faint glow."

A chuckle escaped him at your words. "But you see, moonlight is merely an illusion. The moon itself does not emit light. Yet, you choose to believe it does and live by it because it's comforting and convincing.”

--

[mysticstronomy]

WHAT WAS BEFORE THE BIG BANG??

Blog#407

Wednesday, June 5th, 2024.

Welcome back,

The Universe has not existed forever. It was born. Around 13.82 billion years ago, matter, energy, space – and time – erupted into being in a fireball called the Big Bang. It expanded and, from the cooling debris, there congealed galaxies – islands of stars of which our Milky Way is one among about two trillion. This is the Big Bang theory.

A universe popping into existence out of nothing is so bonkers that scientists had to be dragged kicking and screaming to the idea. But the evidence is compelling. The galaxies are flying apart like pieces of cosmic shrapnel. And the heat of the Big Bang is still around us. Greatly cooled by cosmic expansion, this ‘afterglow’ appears not as visible light but principally as microwave radiation – the ‘cosmic background radiation’, which was discovered by radio astronomers in 1965.

When a stick of dynamite explodes, the detonation occurs in one place and shrapnel flies into the void. In the Big Bang, there was no centre and no pre-existing void, so it didn’t happen at any ‘location’. Space itself popped into existence and began expanding everywhere at once.

Astronomy books often liken the Universe to a rising cake, with raisins representing galaxies. As the cake grows, raisins recede from each other, with no centre of expansion – just like the Big Bang. But of course, a cake has an edge, unlike the Universe, which may go on forever. No analogy is perfect!

In the beginning of the Big Bang there was the inflationary vacuum. When it doubled its volume, it doubled its energy; when it tripled its volume, it tripled its energy. If banknotes were like this and you pulled apart a stack, ever more would appear. Physicists call inflation the ‘ultimate free lunch’!

The inflationary vacuum expanded ever faster. But it was a ‘quantum’ thing. And quantum things are fundamentally unpredictable. Randomly, all over the inflationary vacuum, parts of it ‘decayed’ into ordinary, everyday vacuum.

Think of tiny bubbles forming in a vast ocean. In each bubble, the inflationary vacuum disappeared, but its enormous energy had to go somewhere. It went into creating matter and heating it. It went into creating a Big Bang. Our Big Bang Universe is merely one such bubble among a possible infinity of other Big Bang universes in the ever-expanding inflationary vacuum!

To start all this, a chunk of inflationary vacuum of only a kilogram was needed. Incredibly, the laws of quantum theory permit this to pop into existence out of nothing.

The basic idea – that the Universe began hot and dense and has been expanding and cooling ever since – is incontrovertible. But cosmologists have had to make tweaks to the theory, to account for certain observations.

First, in the standard Big Bang model, galaxies grow by gravitationally pulling in matter. But if this were the only thing going on, it would take much longer than 13.82 billion years for them to form. Astronomers fix this by postulating that the visible stars and galaxies are outweighed by a factor of six by invisible ‘dark matter’, the extra gravity of which speeds up galaxy formation.

Second, the basic Big Bang predicts that the gravitational attraction between the galaxies acts like a web of elastic, slowing cosmic expansion. However, in 1998, astronomers discovered that the Universe’s expansion is speeding up.

They fix this by postulating the existence of ‘dark energy’, which is invisible, fills space and has repulsive gravity.

A final tweak to the basic theory is needed to explain why the Universe has the same temperature everywhere. To account for this, astronomers think that the Universe early on was smaller than expected, then underwent a super-fast expansion in its first split-second – an ‘inflation’. This was driven by an ‘inflationary vacuum’, a high-energy version of the vacuum that exists in space today.

Originally published on www.sciencefocus.com

COMING UP!!

(Saturday, June 8th, 2024)

"A COSMIC GLITCH IN GRAVITY??"

[leonw4nter]

i was wondering if you had any general dating headcanons for re2r leon (and fem reader)? like how he would act in a relationship, treat is partner, etc (sorry if this is vague i just really enjoy your writing so when i saw requests open i ran here lol)

General Dating Headcanons with RE2R!Leon x Fem!Reader

RE2R!Leon x Fem!Reader

When you two were first dating, he was shy and didn’t initiate most displays of affection aside from kissing or wanting to hold hands but after a month and a half, he was a lot more himself now. He wouldn’t hesitate to ask for cuddles now and is a lot more comfortable with giving you kisses on the cheek or hair in public.

Once his coworkers catch a glimpse of the cutesy messages you two send to each other, he will start fighting for his life in the work group chat. There was one particular incident where you left work early in order to surprise Leon and pick him up. Throughout the day, he was quiet and reserved but as soon as he saw you out of the corner of his eyes, his eyes twinkled and the widest grin spread on his face. His voice raised in pitch and he practically skipped over to you for a big hug.

When you two are working in your shared bedroom, doing individual tasks, and he realizes that you two aren’t talking but there’s a peaceful feeling, he’ll point it out and say something along the lines of “we’re like a married couple because we’re doing our own thing but it feels nice and we don’t feel obligated to entertain the other because our presence is enough” and then follows up with some random sentence and gets back to typing away in his laptop or reading reports again.

While dating, he developed the habit of saying the most romantic and poetic thing ever only to get back to doing something weird; just a day ago, he said “In the vast expanse of outer space and all the stars and galaxies in there, my universe begins and ends with you” then proceeded to hit his elbow against the chair, which made him cry out in pain and curl up in the ground.

Leon also tends to play with your stuffed animals in a way that he makes them do flips or do a little dance sometimes, to heal his inner child that he never got to bask in because of his rough childhood.

In the unfortunate event that you and him got into an argument, he would be the type to walk up to Jill and say “I should set myself on fire”. Jill will definitely look at him all confused and concerned, saying “And why is that…?” and he will respond with “Y/N and I got into an argument. She’s mad and I need to set myself on fire to feel the turmoil I have caused in her heart.”. Jill doesn’t know how to comfort him in this time so she pats his shoulder, giving Leon a judgemental side-eye but she knows he means well. In the end, she will give him advice like treating you to ice cream or doing all the chores for an entire week to appease you and calm the storm in your heart.

Although he earns well, he saves up and doesn’t buy most of what he wants (for example, a Linkin Park CD) so he could spoil you and buy you things without worrying about the expenses. In the end, he ends up being at the receiving end of your spoiling because you felt that today was a good day and ended up buying him the CD he’s been eyeing for.

He’s also the type to scold other men for looking down on their partners and start fighting them to treat their partners right; before dating, he already did that but it was much more meaningful to him after you two started dating. If he was already the type to help his female coworkers ask for a day off due to cramps, he upgraded by petitioning to install sanitary pad vending machines in all the women’s restrooms in his workplace and offering to chip in some money for the said machine. At first, you were worried that he did all that just to get your approval or for you to cave in to giving him a chance but Jill and a few other female coworkers of his said that he’s been doing that ever since.

Leon kept the relationship secret for a little bit (he sucked at hiding it); Chris and Jill decided to check if you and him were dating so they said your name in a conversation they made sure Leon could hear loud and clear. In the end, Leon promptly turned around with the most dilated pupils, sparkly eyes, and a giddy ass smile and boom they caught him.

He won’t be the type to ask from you because he’s going to feel like a high-maintenance boyfriend; he’d hint but very subtly if there’s something that he wants and if you somehow managed to guess what he wanted correctly, he’d blush and then admit he did want it but he’ll always add “but I don’t want it a lot, it’s no big deal!”. If you do get him what he wanted, no matter how simple the thing you got him was, he’d always jump around and giggle before giving you a big hug and his “thank you”s.

He’s very cheerful and happy, he’d do his best to make you laugh and smile but if it’s not one of those days, he’d offer to stay silent and just listen to whatever you’re venting. He’d give his own thoughts and advice but he’ll make sure to listen to every single word you say. It would turn into a full-on rant + shit talk session and you always manage to feel a lot better afterwards and that enough is okay for him.

If you were sick, he’d be so worried sick. As soon as you say that your throat’s feeling a little weird, your head is pounding, and your temperature is above normal he WILL fetch you the most heavenly and refreshing jug of water and cook you chicken noodle soup or congee with bits of chicken. He’d bring a tray with your food, water, and Advil. Oh, he’d also have a trash bin ready if you’ll need to vomit. He’d help you up, propping pillows behind you so you’d be able to comfortably sit up in bed. He’d tell you that he’ll take a day off to look after you but you disagree, urging him to go to work the next day because you’re grown and can look after yourself. He’s hesitant but decides to go to work anyway. On the way home, he’d pick up some more pills and some warm food. He also wouldn’t forget to wring the wet towel on top of your forehead and adjust it if needed.

If he was the one sick, he’d try to play off what he was feeling. He’ll try to downplay the itching in his throat and how he’s so dizzy and on the verge of falling over. You’d catch on to him and tell him to get back to bed and rest, while you do the same thing he does for you: cook food, place a damp towel on his forehead, and try to help him out to the best of your ability. He wouldn’t ask for massages but you’d give him one anyway, a sigh of relief occasionally leaving his lips when you soothe the joints he didn’t notice was sore. He feels pathetic whenever he’s sick but he’s very thankful that there’s someone who’s willing to help him and take care of him until he’s back to full health.

When you two got into an argument, he’d feel bad. He got the last word but at what cost? You’re not speaking to him and the only look you’d give him is a glare and side-eye, if he’s lucky– sometimes, you wouldn’t look at him at all. He’d feel extremely guilty and he’d try to talk to you but the cold glare you’d give him was enough to make him forget whatever he wanted to say. He’d try to make up for whatever mistake he made by cleaning up the apartment, arranging your items, cooking you your favorite meals, or driving you to and from wherever you need to be.

He’d ask his female coworkers for help, especially his coworkers in relationships. He’d approach them with a pocket notebook and pen in hand, ready to write away whatever wisdom they’d give. That day, he got off work early and sped home in order to prepare a nice dinner and run a nice, warm bath. When you arrived, he offered to undo the laces of your shoes and pack away your coat and bag. When you were done, he served your favorite meal and watched you eat. He explained how sorry he was and swore to never plant the seeds of anger and resentment in your heart ever again and to be a better boyfriend for you. You chuckled and accepted his apology, giving him a peck to the cheek before continuing to finish your dinner.

If you’re on your period and the blood somehow leaked on the bed, he wouldn’t feel disgusted or get mad at you for staining the sheets. He’d always say that you don’t get to control when you want to bleed and that you have enough troubles for a week every month so cleaning the sheets and replacing them would be one of the things he can do to help you. If you two were somewhere outside and your blood seeped through your jeans, he’d take his jacket and wrap it around your waist. If he didn’t have a jacket around, he’d walk you to the restroom while rushing somewhere to get you some new underwear and pants, along with tampons or pads and some tissues.

If you didn’t own one already, he’d look for those heating pads that wrap around your waist like a giant band-aid in order to ease the cramps in your lower abdomen and back. He’d buy you whatever foods you were craving for and be in his best behavior; cramps could make you cranky and one wrong move from him could ruin the entire day, which he understood. In the entire week you’re bleeding and suffering, he’ll cuddle you as you watch something on the TV and ask if you need anything else. If it’s his turn to do laundry and spotted that you leaked some blood into your clothes, he wouldn’t feel disgusted to take it upon himself and clean it up nicely. It’s just blood and everyone has blood, why would this blood be any worse or any more shameful than blood from nosebleeds or wounds?

During ovulation week, he feels a little flustered that you’re flirting with him a lot more and eyeing him like he’s a tall piece of meat. You’ve also began to be a lot more touchy with him, giggling and breathily whispering into his ear. He feels a little shy, the tips of his ears reddenning because he’s not used to being called “handsome”, “pretty” or “hot”. He does his best to meet your needs but he still finds ovulation to be… interesting. He talked to Chris’ younger sister Claire about it and she said that it’s normal since the hormones are going haywire in that phase.

One night, you came home a little later than you normally do and found Leon in the restroom, trying out your skincare products in small amounts. He was putting them on in the wrong order and applying the wrong amounts, sheepishly grinning at you when he got caught. You offered to help him after changing into much more comfortable clothes, teaching him which creams to use and in what order. In the end, you both fell asleep in the masks you two were meant to wear for only half an hour.

He’d also let you do his make-up, straddling his lap with his arms around your waist as your tongue was poked out in concentration while you did his eyeliner, making sure it was heavy and dramatic with a sharp wing. You told him not to move after he already sneezed twice while you powdered his face, not wanting to mess up the eyeliner work you already did in order to really complete his look. Somehow, he looked so pretty in the make-up you gave him, his lips were even more plump-looking with the gloss and the eyeshadow complimented the frosty blue of his eyes. He’d let you take pictures but he won’t want you to send it out to his coworkers because he’d feel so embarrassed.

After discovering that you know how to manicure and do nail care, he stopped going to the nail salon to get his nails and hands taken care of and let you do it instead. Most of the time, he’ll only have you push back his cuticles and paint a clear coat on them. Every single time, after you finish up making his hands and nails look pretty, he would repay you with hugs and kisses. If you ended up getting your nails done with nail accessories and gems and all things shiny, he’d end up asking to look at your hands and just admire the intricate details on them. With permission, he’d gently run a hand through your nail and feel the textures on them. Sometimes, he’d end up staring for hours on end or repeatedly glance at them again. He’d be even happier if you seem very visibly pleased with the nails you got for yourself.

If you’re insecure about how you look and you’re not feeling very confident about yourself, he’s going to be there to reassure you that you’re not ugly and you’re better than how you currently perceive yourself. If you two were going out and he noticed that you weren’t visibly confident with the outfit you put on, he won’t hesitate to reassure you but he won’t push wearing the outfit on you if it’s really not what you want to wear.

Lastly, he’s probably the type to own reading glasses but not actual prescription glasses. When he does wear them if he’s reading reports or on his laptop, you can’t help but pinch his cheeks because he looks utterly and absolutely loserly and nerdy in them. Like he’d probably get rectangular black metal frames and he only wears it a handful of times. He doesn’t like wearing them because he doesn’t like the feeling of wearing glasses and doesn’t like how he looks with them on but you digress, encouraging him to wear them more often when he’s around you. Sometimes he makes you wear them and now, he finds you cute! He took so many pictures when he made you wear them for the first time, debating if he should change your contact photo on his phone to that one.

NOTE - Big, big thanks to the anon who asked for this!!! I hope I managed to write this one nicely :) I haven't been posting as much as I had when I first started writing bc I haven't been getting much inspo (hence me opening up requests ; I wanna write but my only issue is that I don't know what to write :'c) I still have my asks open so if anyone wants me to write something up, fire up the ask box <3 My bff is going to Japan soon and they said that if they manage to come across a Capcom store, they'll look for the Leon tsum!!!! WAEOWIRXYTGUS- I'm not going to force them to get it but I'd be rlly happy if they did :D I procrastinated doing my paper that's due tomorrow to be able to do this so I'm going to be rushing right after I post this :))) Anyways, thank you to everyone who likes, follows, and reads my fics, it means a lot to me :) I <3333 UUUUUUU !!!!!!!!!

The hanging star divider is made by @benkeibear , the images are colored by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[rise-my-angel]

Shadows of Mandalore

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader, Boba Fett x Female Reader

Length: 20k

Warnings: A/b/o (alpha beta omega dynamics), omega reader, not a poly relationship, angst/hurt comfort, mentions of past trauma, mentions of slavery, smut, oral (f and m recieving), p in v, anal play, anal sex, dirty talk via communicator, slight degradation, one mention of name calling during sex (consensual), m/m/f threesome, no m/m dynamics

Notes: Takes place during the span of episodes 5, 6, and 7 of The Book of Boba Fett.

Perhaps many years ago this vast expanse of darkness below would have been frightening. Now though, you came with the safety that those other then yourself had your back. The fade into what you couldn’t see reminded you of the vast crevasses you had been told to avoid as a child. The elders insisting you went nowhere near where the world split, but your father whispering promises of teaching you not just how to cross but to climb. Such lessons never happened, and so for a long, lonely time you continued to go nowhere near such deep falls. 

By your side however, there was more than just the promises of your long forgotten father. The pair behind you kept far away enough to watch but not listen, but one of them no doubt would not only dive off to catch you but climb up in no time. Both would, but you felt Din’s eyes trained on your back at all times. Even if he was turned to speak to Paz, never once did he not have you somewhere in his sights. Both men watching respectfully, but gave the space and distance commanded by the woman beside you. 

The Armourer sat next to you at the edge of the platform, having requested she speak to you and you alone before discussing thing’s further with those of her covert. Only somewhat taller then you, she still seemed to tower over you with bulk and authority. The fur around her shoulders and helmet designed like that of horns still intimidated you as much now as it did the first time. Sitting next to her, legs crossed as your heart beat a tinge faster, you wondered if her silence was because she sensed it. 

“You were a slave before meeting Din Djarin were you not?” There had been hints of amusement and closeness when speaking to her kind, but the formality of a leader returning with you only adding to the strange worry that you still didn’t belong. You stared out into the darkness as you nodded. Not wanting her to pick up on your insecurity. “And yet you haven’t returned to Werda since being freed.” 

It was either curiosity in her voice or a judgment, a tone you doubt even without the modulator you would be able to ascertain. Your only memory of the place now was of that night. The cracking split in the cliff side and ship so large it looked as if it was rising out of the caverns below, there was painful silence for just a moment until it boomed and lights flew from the ships interior until there was nothing left in your young understanding but fire and screams. 

There was pain in being taken from your home, your family. But where Din’s loss ended in the arms of a people who formed the brave and valiant family in place to heal. You were ripped from a home you didn’t know much about, and tossed into the hands of others with a brand that you still felt the phantom burning of on your neck. 

Omega’s were rare now. Uncommon in the galaxy, and once thought to be extinct amongst Mandalorians. From an isolated childhood to a life of slavery, finally thrusting into the vast world of the very people you heard so much about as a child. You didn’t know what confused you more. Your own presentation as an omega, or the strange fascination different Mandalorians seemed to have with such a presentation.

Din knew there was nothing left of what he called home if he were to travel back, but you didn’t know what was even left behind. Swallowing harshly, you kept your jaw set and forward. “My home, they were killed that night, or they moved on in fear. Either way I would have no way of knowing where to even find them. We didn’t stay in once place if there was trouble, but I don’t even know where home was when they took me.” 

A silence passed between you before she found her voice again. “Keeping in small numbers while hiding to protect those small amounts. An interesting trait for those who claimed to stray far from The Way.” 

Head turning to her slightly, you felt something reach within you as if trying to shield a truth that’s wanted to make itself known for a while now. Your unsure silence spoken as a prompt for her to continue. “Omegas exist outside of Mandalorians but it was with us that their numbers prospered. A presentation once treasured but whose numbers disappeared some time before the Great Purge. Whomever was left, all but perished along with our home world and for some time none of us knew where the remainder had been taken.” 

A sinking feeling in your stomach felt like a powerful weight slamming into it. The shock and surprise of the pirates who stole you from your home, and the scramble to sell you to the highest bidder. 

“Until an omega was rumoured to have shown up on the slave trade after Werda was invaded. A planet many of us thought to be abandoned along with much of The Mandalore System. Hiding our own kind in plain sight.” 

Were you not sitting, hands already wrung together and hidden away in your lap, the shaking may have become painfully clear. Your jaw clenched tightly as the only tone coming from your mouth was that of a whisper. You knew the truth of history, yet the disbelief of stories told as a child fought strongly with that. “No, we went to the Mandalore system after you abandoned it, because you wouldn’t look where you left behind.” 

A creak of distraught peeked into your voice, but neither it or your words offended her. “Who is more likely to be telling the truth, omega. If it is the stories told to you as a child, then you wouldn’t be here right now, would you?” 

Of course it was a stretch, did you truly ever believe the opposite when since day one you had trusted Din and his people more than anyone in your life before. “You said Werda was hiding your own kind, you mean-”

“Mandalorians.” Her head turned slowly to yours, her voice as sure and as absolute as ever. “Or, those born to Mandalorians. Stashed away to keep their omega’s from the very kind of Mandalorians they deemed dangerous for simply putting faith in The Way.” 

You thought of that, even now. The possible truth that the Elders of your home lied of the past and destroyed access to the outside world just to keep it that way. Even now as you walked through the hanger, your mind replayed her final words to you. 

“You are bonded to him,” nodding to Din, “and we are not to disrespect the bond between mates but know this, omega. His transgressions are not yours. You need not swear the Creed to have a place amongst us. An omega born to Mandalorians such as us will always be welcome here should she choose so.” 

Both you and Din had far too much on your minds to even know where to start with the other, and least of all to discuss out in the open as you both were stuck travelling. There were people everywhere, and the transport ship in sight was even less viable as an option. 

Little had been said since leaving the covert, but Din kept you close. A hand on your lower back or keeping you more firm at his side than normal, the spiralling whirlwind of emotions no doubt his was picking up on but also for himself. 

The Armourer had given you a place with their people in the same encounter she told Din, that he had lost his. There was a path to redemption, one that neither of you knew where quite to start but the road there would not be felt likely in his heart. 

Paz spitting he was an apostate, while the Armourer forced herself to stand collected and provided a redemption, but it did very little to settle the fiery conflict the deceleration put within him. You had gently slipped your hand into his, fingers wrapping together, making sure that this not a loss of everything. 

Din had turned to you, back to his people as he cupped your cheek with his other hand. Just like always, you met his eyes through the blackness of a visor and he found unwavering solidarity in your togetherness. He didn’t have nothing, there was still you. For now that would be enough to prevent his mind from falling apart in just another way. 

You both felt the frustration too. All of your belongings now sat either on Din’s person or in the bag wrapped across your shoulders that once held the other piece of your hearts. No home, no child, and now, Din being casted out, an apostate despite the very reason for his sacrifice being for his foundling. A part of their Creed which was supposed to be the most important thing to protect. 

He understood the gravity of what he did, and regardless of how you felt about the repercussions it was still important to him to fix. Something of his identity that through meeting Mandalorians of other kinds, still was part of who he was and wanted to be. You both would fix this, but it was hard to do that in your current situation.

Especially when that situation involved a droid falling it’s alarm that only tripped after you and Din crossed it’s path. Turning back it sat amongst a security luggage port, sticking out a key card telling you to remove your weapons. 

Both of you turning in place to walk towards it, Din was already agitated let alone being yelled at by a machine. “I’m a Mandalorian, weapons are part of my religion.” 

Coming up beside him, you could see eyes on the large man in full armour with worry as if they weren’t regularly surrounded with far more and far worse people who didn’t have the respect and restraint that Din has. “If you wish to discuss this with my supervisor, I will gladly book you on tomorrow’s flight.” 

Sharing a glance between you, a fight with an even more frustrating droid and being stuck here overnight looked even less appealing. Snatching the card from it, Din opened the secure storage, turning to you with a hand outstretched. 

The small blaster wasn’t exactly the best, nor was Din really even happy that you needed one but without the Razor Crest it was a compromise. Tossing it in, he already begun moving onto his arsenal. You remembered the first time you saw the extent of weaponry he kept on his person, yet now you could almost predict what he’d reach for next without looking. Putting it all back though, was going to be a much bigger annoyance then taking it off.

Stepping to his side, Din pulled out the Darksaber. Looking completely unremarkable in it’s deactivated state, but one of the only things that connected you both to that day Grogu left. Sparing a look at the other, you raised your eyebrows with a little tilt of your head in hesitancy.

Din didn’t have a choice, but it certainly felt odd putting a weapon of such apparent importance into a security luggage some droid was going to toss into the cargo. Pulling the card out, Din pointed at the little droid. “I know everything that’s in there.” 

“Proceed.” 

You didn’t know why, but the light hearted tone of it’s response to a threat, made you smile. An act that had Din looking at you curiously, but in an impossible to determine way. His hand returned to your lower back as you entered the transport making your way to whatever seats they booked you in. 

Gesturing you to go in first, you took the bag off your shoulders, letting it hang off the edge of the armrest next to the wall. Eyes shutting with a huff, you let your head rest back for just a moment as you felt Din move in next to you. 

It was those quiet times in the cockpit of the Razor Crest that you and Din felt the most connected. A long way to travel with the peace of just the two of you interspersed with a baby wanting in on the affection. Many times Grogu would end up on Din’s lap, venture over to yours for a while and then back to Din when he wanted to sleep. 

It was those moment’s you felt that bond the Armourer spoke of. Technically you and Din weren’t mated, but your souls reached for one another in instinct at all times and kept any from stealing you away. It was more quiet now though. An unspoken you always felt.

Din able to retain his alpha, knowing it would calm whatever senses your omega had the potential of putting off to much. Feeling his gaze, you opened your eyes to turn and look up at the man already watching you before a child turned in the seat in front of you. 

Curious gaze looking at Din in the same childlike wonder Grogu would often do. The little wave he did and the nod Din gave the kid back pulled too much at your heart. The kid looking nothing like yours but the feeling persisted of how much he was missed. 

It must have gotten stronger, because you suddenly felt a wave of calm splashing onto you from Din as he brushed your knuckle with a few fingers to catch you, voice little more then a whisper. “Cyra’ika,” You must have made Din feel more distressed then you were actively realizing. His touch moving then to brush against your cheek as he leaned in. Forehead not quite touching yours, “How long has it been since you’ve slept.” 

Eyes drooping a slight as you leaned into his hands touch. “Since before the bounty?” 

Smirking at how instantly Din sighed, you shrugged one shoulder. Neither of you slept well since the light cruiser. “I’m not even going to bother pointing out how many days ago that was.” Sliding his touch to under your chin, pushing you to look up at him. “You should try while we’re on here. It’ll be a bit before we get to Tatooine.” 

Narrowing your eyes you grasped his hand, pulling from your chin to keep in your lap. “What about you?” 

His chuckle was light enough that no one but you could have picked it up, making you pout a tad as he pulled away from your lap to slide it up behind your neck. Firmly yet soothingly holding you close to him. “I will, I promise.” 

His hand pulling you to rest gently on his shoulder, knowing that you liked the coolness of the beskar on your skin lately. You had been running hotter the past few weeks, and with little chances to lay together and surround yourself with Din’s even warmer body heat, you took advantage of the beskar’s temperature. 

Din waited until you were asleep to pull out the wrapped cloth. The shirt forged from the spear he used to rescue Grogu. A fitting transference if you asked him. If he squinted, Din could almost see the shape of his head and large ears in the wrappings, but it also certainly was just the loneliness without him pulling at his heart. 

You had each other, but missing Grogu was something else entirely and it left a painful void. He tried to keep the subject from you, Grogu was his and their clan was made just with the two of them, but you were just as important to it. An honorary member turning it to a clan of three that you insisted wasn’t true. You always wanted to keep a distance. Fearing your attachment would come across as trying to invade on their space despite how much both parties wanted you too. 

Your distress at his leaving was more evident, everything you felt lately was more intense. Screaming to the surrounding people that you were omega in distress and Din put forth everything in his power to keep you calm and safe in his arms. Even the rising level of your body heat was concerning to Din. He knew you tried to hide it, but he scanned and checked your vitals through his visor more then you knew, even before you joined him. 

Finding himself scanning you to ensure you were alright and safe between visits to Navarro. It was there he noticed your former slavers brand was red inflamed. You had been working on removing it, but it was leaving a new scar on your neck at how viciously you scrubbed it away. 

He bought bacta specifically for it, telling you to use it before bed and not to touch your fading brand until it was healed entirely. He protected you just like that now, even if it meant keeping both of your pains quiet. The first night you two were together was after Grogu had left, and the feeling off ripped away loss send you hurling towards a stress induced heat. 

Your presentation had never quite gone back down after your heat ended. Like you were stuck on the verge of another, but kept rooted to the ground by Din’s soothing presence and the command of his alpha. He hoped seeing Grogu would be good for you, even if it would still mean leaving him once more.

You didn’t allow yourself a goodbye. Turning your gaze away to leave the moment to them alone, and from the distance he felt more torn apart inside at how raging your omega screamed. Letting what you subconsciously saw as your own kid, just be taken away after everything to rescue him. 

Maybe that’s why Din was handling it just the slightest bit better, he felt Grogu’s gentle touch on his cheek and their eyes on each other until they were no longer together. You didn’t let yourself have that, and if Din wasn’t also fighting this internal struggle of what his people now saw him as? This would be easier for you to handle, but the two of you had too much stolen from you and what to show for it? 

No home, no child, just a weapon that held a responsibility Din had no interest in. Tatooine wasn’t a great place, but maybe enough familiar faces to ease both your pains for even a little while. 

Leaving the artificial light of the transport into the blistering suns masked by nothing but the sand below had you squinting walking off the ramp. Throwing the bag back over your shoulder you remembered the last time you were actually on this planet. 

For the first time since you begun travelling with them, it was the first time anyone outside of Din had given you any kind of flirtatious attention that wasn’t dripping with a creepiness. Cobb Vanth was more chatty then you were used too, and honestly? Having a man smile charmingly at you like that almost felt as unusual as it did somewhat flustering. 

Sitting around a fire, Grogu had been happily plopped down between Din’s feet to sit closer to the fire occasionally climbing gently over his boot to glance over at you, only to find you looking right back. A little game between you and him, who caught who staring first and who would be the first to look away. 

One of the Tuskens had made a rather loud noise to another, breaking Grogu’s concentration and giving ample opportunity for the Marshall to whisper yours over onto him. “You know, I was wondering if I could see the resemblance, but some kids just take more after their father’s don’t they?” 

A hint of a smirk formed as you turned yourself to look at him properly, your voice an inch lower. “Or maybe all those years in the sun just means you don’t see too good.” He chuckled, but it wasn’t as deep and warm as Din’s, though it was odd you’d compare. 

He was quiet for a moment, watching you sip the odd liquid the Tuskens had given you all and it also didn’t feel as nice when Din quietly watched you. Though, you figured it at the least was better then the annoying feeling when it was Calican watched you. Acting as if cocky spunk would endear you to him. “The kid’s his. That much is obvious, now you got me wondering where you fit into all this exactly.” 

Cobb had meant it as a genuine question. A Mandalorian shows up demanding the return of the Marshall’s bought armour, has a very small baby in toe with big ears and curious wide eyes, and you by his side. Not a bounty hunter, nor a Mandalorian, and what Cobb knew all to well was the faded mark of a slave brand on your neck healed out to almost nothing. He was interested in this strange trio that walked into his town and rallied the what he normally felt was a group of dangerous creatures together for a common goal. 

To you? It felt much like then Xi’an asked you the same thing. Only she meant it with malice.  A judgment upon your person that even worse, was extended to the kid. A kid that they sent their bug droid to kill just for being associated with Din. She was the first one who made you question if you belonged with these two. 

Cobb didn’t mean it that way, but you felt it. And surprisingly, so did the kid in question. Grogu at some point had found himself up on Din’s lap. Little hand reaching over to you with a grumble as if upset you were too far away. The man beside you chuckled more, “Just like me as a boy, could never go too long without his mama’s attention.” 

Your heart lept at the word, but quickly Din had scooted over to get your side pressed up against his. Grogu crawling half into your lap before falling over and letting out a half purr half grumble. Din’s voice was in your ear this time, and the warmth filling your veins brought calm to your memory once more. “I’d suggest you hold him a while, but I have a feeling he’d just get upset all over again.”

Hand reaching down to trail softly over his ear, you smiled. Not that you could sense it quite yet, but Din smiled at the sight just as brightly. “Maybe we spoil him too much.” 

A gloved hand reached down to grasp at Grogu’s little hand, baby fingers wrapping around one of his while the remainder covered it entirely in the leather. “Spoiling was when you spent the last of your earnings on that plush instead of that drink you enjoyed.” Din had geared you towards a specific vendor one day, hoping you’d catch the sight of the man selling this strange dark blue drink you loved only to stop at Grogu cooing. 

You had turned to look at him, sat happily in the bag Din kept on him and his big eyes trained on a brown frog plush, a bit on the rough side and just short of his own height. Naturally, you folded instantly. 

Now though, it was just one of the very little items you had left. Din kept the metal ball on him, and you kept the plush frog in the bag once for Grogu himself. The droid at the security station was in far worse condition. Paint chipping and it’s voice box stuttering and movements lanky. It didn’t feel as welcoming as the memory you sank into just seconds before. 

Headed towards the main part of town, thing’s didn’t appear to be in quite as working order as you expected. Nothing was occurring, but there was a quiet unsure feeling among the people like waiting for violence. Din, naturally, kept you pressed almost right as his side until Peli’s hanger approached. 

“Where’s your unlikely companion?” As instant as you froze up in place, Din’s alpha reached out to tame the rising flames before they could spark more. The way he could command your presentation without speaking were it from anyone else, would be alarming. 

“I returned him to his own kind.” 

Peli’s response though, almost cracked something akin to a smirk. “Why the hell would you do that? I could have good money off that thing.” 

Pushing past the dryness in your throat, you turned your head to her. “Pretty sure keeping a baby for just a petting zoo is illegal.” Her head turned to look over at you, the little glint in your eye much easier to read then the stillness of the Mandalorian few were used too. 

Shaking her head with an amused smirk of her own, “It’s not illegal. Just morally dubious. Besides, those big bright eyes would have made me a killing.” 

Approaching something covered in a sheet in her hanger, you and Din paused to glance at one another hesitantly. You weren’t a ship expert but something tells you she had a completely different plan then what she called you both for. “Ready to have your mind blown?” 

Well, that wasn’t really the word. More confused, at least Din was more straight forward. “Where’s the Razor Crest?” 

“I never said I had a Razor Crest, I said I had a replacement for the Razor Crest.” The more you looked at it, the more interested you became. The general design looked familiar but not in a way you would have seen out in the open space. 

The two of them went back and forth for a bit, Din saying “This is a pile of junk.” and Peli trying to sweeten the deal with promises of modification and big game about it being a Starfighter used by some Naboo Queen. Pacing around it, you think you may have read a book with something like this in it. 

Early on, you had started reading up on ships and internal ship mechanics trying to prove yourself useful to Din beyond just watching Grogu. Starfighter’s were in that text somewhere that pinged at your vauge memory. Something you actually know about in a way that’s helpful, finally. 

“I’m telling you Mando, you gotta believe me. This is a classic.” 

While she had inadvertently knocked a panel right off it’s loose hold, you turned to Din from where you stood by one of it’s engine thrusters. “What if we fix it first?” His head tilting, you started gesturing around it. “I mean, we’ll need to fish around for parts, but it doesn’t look salvaged, more like it’s just been stripped.” 

You felt a shiver at his silence, glancing around before backtracking. “Just, I mean it’s not what we wanted, but if we can get it to work,” 

Peli’s high pitched voice yelled out as she pointed to you, “That’s when, not if, missy.” 

Smirking slightly, you raised your hand sin defence. “When we get it to work,” You moved back closer to Din a little unnerved at his silence. “You get to keep all your weapons on you in a Starfighter at least.” 

Could you see under his helmet, you’d see the amused yet done look on his face. Peli, a scrappy friend who was the hardest person outside his clan to say no too. Then there was your hopeful look, and an understanding that you had perked up at the idea of working on the ship for the first time in weeks. 

It wasn’t a permanent solution, but it was a temporary one that seemed to brighten your face. Glancing up at it, then down to you, your eyes wide and mouth slightly parted in hope. “Fixed up it’ll sell for more then we paid.” 

Peli had a protest to it, but the excitement in your eyes was just the right amount for Din. Hanging your bag up on the wall, you grabbed a pair of gloves and all three of you had some work to do. Peli disappeared to start on looking for certain parts, leaving you and Din in the peaceful quiet. 

Seamlessly working back and forth, interspersed with the goofy little droids that astounded you that they knew how to do anything. But they made you smile sometimes, and hey, five times out of ten, they passed you the right tool. You didn’t even know where to start on the Jawa’s, or more accurately, whatever strange arrangement she had with them. 

You were behind the ship, hands deep in one of the still stripped open panels with half the wiring either missing entirely, or hooked up wrong. “I dated a Jawa once.” Your head flying up, the dead silence Din gave her contrasting Peli not even considering the oddity of what she just said. An R5 unit passing by you, bleeping and shaking from the scavengers still hovering the area. 

Side eyeing it, you just shook your head muttering, “Trust me, buddy. Getting stripped for parts is the least of your worries out there.” Turning away it bumped into you slightly by accident, jostling you forward as one of the open wires sparked. Zapping at your fingertips, one hand gloveless just to have fit your hand through. Pulling back with a quiet hiss, you shook your hand and sat back on your knees. 

Pressing the heel of your palm into your forehead, the warmth came now from beside you not just within you. Peeking to the side, Din kneeled by your side, his hand outstretched towards you. “Here, let me see.”  Handing him the tool but he didn’t take it, just looked at you. “Not that, cyra’ika. Your hand.” 

Dropping it, you hesitated for just a moment ultimately knowing Din would just yank it towards him if you refused. Palm up, he traced your fingers up and tickling the soft sensation. You shrugged not yet brave enough to look at him. “Just a zap, it’s fine.” No words, he looked you over until the image of just dirt and small, older scrapes covered it. But he didn’t give it back. Sparing a look around the room, Peli was no where. “Din.” 

He himself sighed, shoulders dropping in exhaust that had you yearning for the privacy to help wring tension out of. “Sorry, I know. I just-” 

What he expected out of you was not what you had either. “Maybe you should go without me.” 

Helmet snapping up to you, a surge of paralyzing disbelief rushed forth into you. Trying to slip your hand back, Din in fact, yanked you right back into his touch. His heart pumping silence demanding an elaboration. 

Stammering you felt far less confident in this idea then you had when it arrived as a fleeting thought. “I just mean, this means a lot to you two and I wasn’t even there from the beginning,” Din said your name in warning, and pulled you further into him just as you unconsciously fidgeted too far from his comfort. “I just shouldn’t-” 

Peli’s voice rang out higher then both of yours could possibly dream of combined. “I don’t know why you’re always in such a hurry. Build me a ship, fix my blaster holes.” 

Her interruption granting just enough surprise from Din to slip out of his grasp, pushing up from your thighs and walking around the ship the long way from him. “Find us a ship is different then build me one, Peli. Besides we’re the ones doing all the work.” Gesturing to the slowly standing Din. 

Waving her hand at you, “All the work? Trust me, dealing with a bunch of eager Jawa’s always asking me out is hard work, believe me.” The funny thing about Peli is either she didn’t see your narrowed brows as you stared confused at her because it didn’t matter, or she did and ignored it. “You’d know what I’m talking about if you didn’t have a human sized massiff glaring down your potential suitors.” 

Voice flat as ever, one hand on his hip Din just stared Peli down until she threw her hands up in bemused defeat. Not before mockingly covering her mouth and leaning into you, “All alpha’s this protective or just the Mando variety?” 

There was a joke somewhere deep within you, but it was hard to get out at Din’s stare. It wasn’t something you came too lightly, but more and more you couldn’t help but feel this pull of failure that permeated every conversation or thought of Grogu. Not that you’d say it, but you somehow felt like a disworthy omega. Not even given herself the chance to say goodbye to her child and now lacking the ability to comfort the loneliness and dark pain creeping into her mate. 

Or supposed mate, in this case. Kicking nothing at your feet, it became too hard to face that reality the closer the ship was to finished. That was the plan, see Grogu once the ship is acquired but maybe you didn’t deserve it. Grogu was Din’s, his foundling. Not yours. Just a tag along that accidentally fit a nice role of doting omega that now wandered the galaxy lost and without use. 

Tension between you and Din was palpable. His eyes on you at all times the second they were anywhere but the ship. Yours, never met his back. Even through the visor, you found his his eyes perfectly every time. Even his covert making mention of the ease in which you spoke to them like the helmet was just who they were like your face was. 

By the time the Jawa's returned, you had been crouched by a panel away from the door. Knowing both by the quick scramble of small feet and R5 shaking like the least brave droid in existence. Catching it’s attention, you inhaled and exhaled with dramatic movements. But the droid just beeped more. 

Never met a droid that was such a baby before. 

Din’s voice rang out through the hanger. “Where did they get a cryogenic density combustion booster?” 

“Do you really wanna know?” 

Sounded like a fair question, neither you or Din had found the Jawa’s holding a favourable track record of being in the ownership of things belonging to him, or Fett for that matter. A thought that sparked in your head and begun plotting itself out..

“They said they crawled under a Pyke spice runner and crimped it off while they were refueling. Gutsy little fellas.” Hands pausing mid movement, you turned your head just enough to hear her the slightest bit clearer. “Let me tell you something, Pykes do not mess around. Ever since they've been moving spice through the system, everything's gone to hell. Everyone's afraid of 'em and law enforcement won't even go near 'em.” 

Eyes glazing over, you bit part of your bottom lip as you lost yourself in wonder. Things around here looked calm, but that might be in part of fear of what may come through. You’d had enough encounters both with their kind, and that of spice runners in general. Their work and cooperation with the slavers trade were synonymous with one another. Many people you had seen sold off in favour of high quality cut, but not you it seemed. No spice was worth selling an omega until an even greedier profiteer came along with a heftier offer.  

Gears turned, but perhaps ones which wouldn’t make Din very happy. What did though, was how gorgeously fast the Starfighter was. You watching from a view point separate from her hanger, the machine flying through the sky with impressive skill. Peli leaving the field test over to you, saying something about cleaning up after them, either her droids or the Jawa’s who knows.

He unbeknownst to you, could hear the joy in your tone along with the smirk on your face more akin to proud them smug. “How’s the handling?” 

“A little bumpy,” the slight echos of control switches flipping on his end, “let me open her up.” 

The speed catching attention of those on the street’s below, you felt something shiver down your spine without recognizing it. Nor that your tone felt much raspier to his deeper one. “Controls are more sensitive then a Razor Crest, going to have to ease me into this one.” 

It didn’t translate through both the communicator, or the modulator on his helmet but there was a shift in his seat and a grunt along with a more boiling point of his blood before he spoke. “I’ll be gentle. Don’t you worry mesh’la.” 

Face flushing, he called for you again. “Talk to me, sweet girl tell me how I’m doing.” 

If he was doing this on purpose that was unfair. You squirmed in your seat along with a tightness in your chest that felt more thrilling than was appropriate for being alone in a friends control bay. Swallowing your tone down, you shook your head. “Manoeuvrability looks good, take it through Beggar’s Canyon so I can see the navigational stats.” 

Still learning how to read navigational equipment outside of the Razor Crest, you squinted as you watched it coming through, putting together the pieces in your head. “That’s better, you look good out there.” 

“Says the pretty girl giving me orders.” The deepness he spoke in was intentional, it had to be. There was a silence in your bones as he chuckled. The communicator making it feel deep in your chest. “There we go, nice and tight.” 

You barley registered what he was actually doing on the Starfighter, the communicator holding tight in your grip. “What’s an omega got to do to get an alpha to talk to her that way?” 

Oh Din could dish it, but he could not handle hearing it back right in his ear like that. He groaned shamelessly, coming at you like a warning. “Mesh’la..” 

Pushing up from the chair, you braced a palm on an empty space of the control board, far too warm for your own good. “No, please I understand. She’s sleek and gorgeous, I’ll give you space.” Din muttered something in Mando’a that you didn’t know. “I’ll meet you back down there, okay? Treat her gentle.” A quick glance back up to where nothing was visible anymore, you sighed out clicking it off. 

The trek down to the outside wiping away the fluster in your heart, glad this was working out at least in the meantime. Looking around you saw the hanger closed up oddly enough.  Hopping down the final step, you closed the door behind you looking over at the woman with her hands on her hips looking up much like you had chasing a ship too fast to spot. 

“Peli?” 

You jumped back as she did, her hand on her heart as she walked over to you. “Maker, you think that man gets himself into enough trouble, now he’s got people stopping by here looking for him.” A breathless rant you stepped closer to her, hands up almost trying to bring the manic down a tinge. 

“I was gone for less than ten minutes, what happened?” Watching her shake her head, she dramatically inhaled and let it all back out before nodding to the closed doors. 

“Someone came looking for him, both of you. No idea how they knew either of you were in my business but I locked ‘em up in the hanger. Figured Mando’s more equipped for that than you or me.” 

Glancing over, you watched the closed doors for a moment with narrowed eyes until you heard the sleek sounds of the Starfighter back in atmosphere. You and Peli backing up to give him space, it landed like nothing. Peeking inside, Din made it look easy enough but you had a distinct feeling getting used to this one wouldn’t be as easy as before. 

The Razor Crest was a gunship, but more forgiving to pilot. Peli meeting him with amusement in her own voice. “How was it?” 

Din glanced at the pair of you, making Peli cheer to herself as you grinned. “Wizard.” He climbed out of the seat as you walked over, leaning on the side to look over days worth of work. His tall frame loomed over you, were he not in public you’d have felt his hand tilt your chin up to look at him. Instead he stood as close as he could get away with, a strong scent of his inner alpha radiating your senses. 

Your eyes a little dumbfounded at how strong he smelt and how small it made you feel, in a way you wanted more of. “I know it’s not what we wanted, but it’s something, right?” Before he could respond, Peli came back over. 

“Oh, someone claiming to be a friend of you two dropped by.” Holding her hands out, she switched her tone. “Don't worry. I told her I didn't know where you were. Then I locked her in and engaged the hangar security system.”

“She tell you her name?” 

Before anyone said another word, they did for you. “Fennec Shand.” Spinning around, you saw her sitting up on a tricky hanger ledge with a smirk. Hopping down each one, you felt a real grin forming as you and Din met her halfway. “By any chance you looking for work? The pay is good.” 

You could feel even just still beside him, Din’s hovering presence the second anything switched to business. Especially lately. “What’s the bounty?” Being tossed the pay, neither of you even glanced at it’s contents. 

Fennec shook her head, “No bounty, we need muscle.” 

Now the dots made sense. The Pykes, the strange aura of the city streets. Boba Fett challenged the leadership in a different kind of way, no doubt such a name and conquered title would set forth an a new challenger to test it. “Fett’s after the Pykes?” 

Her sharp gaze nodding at you, “Encroaching on his territory. He sure would appreciate it.” 

Neither you or Din had to even look at one another to feel your answers. It wasn’t often Din was shown fair and unselfish loyalty and neither he or Fennec needed to help you when going after Moff Gideon. But they did, and you felt that connecting chain tighten in agreement between you and Din. Tossing the pay back, he was absolute. “Tell him it’s on the house. But first,” 

If he felt that strength of understanding between you go slack, he said nothing until the three of you parted ways. The walk back to the hanger where your stuff hung was painfully quiet and he didn’t deserve this strange silence over something he likely wanted you to look forward too. 

But if Din was straight forward with you, so would you be in return. “Din, I’m not going.” 

He stopped right in his step, turning back to you almost as fast as the very ship you watched sail in the sky. His tall frame hiding the brightness of the sun but leaving your shadows feeling intimidated. “Oh I hear you the first time. What the hell do you mean you’re not going?” 

You opened your mouth to speak but nothing came from it as people passed by in the area. Din noting the same, pulled you to the side of the building all but crowding you against it. Trying to pull himself down, his tone turned sweet but you were faster to get it all out. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go with you. To see Grogu.” Your throat closed up, and your hands trembled at your sides. 

Din slightly leaned back, his voice in quiet disbelief. “Mesh’la why would you-”

Crossing your arms across your chest you shook your head. Sinking in on yourself as the wall served as something of a backrest. “He’s your foundling. Not- not mine. You were the one he said goodbye to, I just don’t think I should be there. It’s..between you two.” 

No longer caring of the sight, Din finally captured your chin in his fingers. “Why would you think that?” 

Truthfully you didn’t quite know. Something inside your chest clawed at you and it bled into your lungs until the air felt too strained to breathe. Your arms hung uselessly at your side wishing that you could just hide in his chest like you could before. “I- The Armourer called you a clan of two. Not three. And I guess...I just think there are things you two should do just with each other, without me tagging along.” 

His head leaned into yours, voice tighter then normal as his grip did the same. “You are not just tagging along. You belong with me. With us, you’re apart of our clan.” 

But were you? That first night, those first few days once Grogu was gone. You and Din spent that time together and isolated, your heat had sped into you full force and it’s strength sent his own rut slipping over the edge. So much of those few days you spent in the others bare arms. Blindfolded you felt every touch of his lips, the hot air from his breathe as you freely raked through the lush hair and scratching ones on his face. 

Then the days were over, and the reality of having no home and no child felt painful. You clung to the other like never before, and it had been weeks of almost never leaving the other’s side. Perhaps a number of hours for Din to nab a bounty, but that’s it. It was just the darkness and wandering pain of you both unable to find the lives you lost and just maybe you only had that bond because he lost his other. 

You weren’t even mated. You were just an omega who followed him around the galaxy, it was Grogu, his very foundling that was the love of his life. A truth you never questioned but maybe it was a role that you shouldn’t intrude on. Maybe your place was just this. An outlet for an alpha who was desperate to not lose everything. So you were a body to keep safe. 

You wanted to shake, cry, plead your sorrows, but none came. Just a far off stare, watering in your eyes that were his helmet reflective you’d be forced to stare back at yourself and not the blackness. “You’re a Mandalorian, and he’s your foundling. Just because I’m an omega doesn’t mean I’m one of you.”

Hands drifting up you traced over the Mudhorn on his shoulder. That’s where their clan was created, it wasn’t the day he went back for him on Navarro and took on a stray. “It doesn’t feel right.” 

Capturing your hand in his, Din stared intently struggling to find any kind of word, and even worse, unable to reach your omega. You pushed him out, just to keep him from convincing you. Something you hadn’t done in a long time. “He’ll want to see you.” 

Shrugging, you faked what was likely a not very well executed expression of casualness. “He misses you more then me. He always does.” 

For a moment the both of you just stood in the streets of Mos Eisley, your hand caught in his as you stared the other down until Din broke. Leaning further, he closed the gap. Pulling you in by the back of your neck and resting your forehead against his. A shaky exhale just audible through his modulator and your own shaky one not helped as he held your connected hands over his chest plate to his heart. “This conversation isn’t over, mesh’la.” 

Nodding together, you basked in his warmth as much as you could, trying to steel the spiralling inside of you that screamed of failure. Finally nudging him lightly, you smiled up at him. “Go give the kid his shirt, you went through enough as it is to get it forged.” 

Just another list of things you and Din would have to figure out at some point. His covert. It took more then another few minutes to convince Din to leave without you. Everything deep within being an alpha saying leaving you behind like this was a bad idea. Even if you’d be perfectly safe, he refused to accept that this was you feeling perfectly normal. 

Finally returning to the Starfighter, you wrapped the bag around your shoulders once again. “You contact me if anything goes wrong.” Stopping you in place Din tilted your head up again. “I mean it, Cyra’ika. If the Pykes are as big of a problem as Peli said, I don’t want you wandering the streets alone when I’m not here.” 

Nodding, you secured the communicator on you visible for him to see. “It’ll be fine, Din. You’ve taught me well.” 

Shoulders dropping, he sighed deeply. Something muttered in Mando’a you couldn’t translate leaving his mouth as only a sliver of his alpha was allowed to seek out your comfort. His gloved hand stroked the side of your cheek before turning to hop into the pilot’s seat. Stepping back he called you before closing the top. “Tell Fett to behave himself around you until I get back.” 

Your head jolted back for a second, confused, “What?” 

If there was a smirk on his face, you heard it loud and clear. “Just until I get back, Cyra’ika.” There was little fanfare watching him take off, mostly because the Starfighter just moved at astounding speeds. It would be interesting to see what she’ll feel like with the new hyper drive. 

Tucking everything against your chest securely, you took more than a few minutes getting yourself confident enough to make the trip there. A combination of the last time you were there, it was still the days a brand sat plastered on your neck with the world muted heavily on suppressants. Also, it was the first time on a speeder bike in the drivers seat, without Din also there hands on your waist and gentle words encouraging you. 

But you were under Din’s instructions, and in terms of his protectiveness towards you, his rules were followed and you trusted them whole heartedly. So your insecurity had to be shoved down for at least a number of hours. 

At least there was significantly less risk going by yourself to what was formerly known as Jabba’s Palace this time around, all on your own. The sands of Tatooine were bright and lifeless, not much to watch your back in the kind of way ones may have in the past. 

Sat high on a ragged cliff were the highest of the towers stemming up from the hidden depths of the building below. The main entrance was just as foreboding as memory told, large and fortified to the degree you wondered if it was built such a way for posturing rather than practicality. 

Wincing as you climbed off the bike, you yanked off the old dusted helmet tossing it onto the seat as you walked up. Unsure where to even place your eyes, you debated heading around the long way for where you knew a hanger was. Just as your feet turned in place, a metal slot opened shooting out an extended arm with a circular eye glowing red at the end. 

Looking you up and down, the gatekeeper droid seemed to be scanning for weapons. Slowly, you let it watch your hand reach for the blaster at your side, holding it up by the ends away from the trigger as it considered you for a moment. Telling it your name you kept your other hand up for the droid to keep it’s eye on. “I’m here to see Boba Fett. I have business with him and Fennec Shand.” 

In an instant, the droid flew back inside and the slot slammed shut leaving you in the bright sand. A second passed as you considered what to do, when the large doors slowly rose open. Just high enough for you to walk safely under there was a Gamorrean there watching you. Jumping back you were about to bend to put the blaster down, when he barked something at you and gestured you down the vast empty corridor. 

Raising your eyebrows, you slowly brought the blaster towards your side watching the guard do nothing to stop you. Either you were already deemed welcome, or just looking at you the guard could tell you weren’t any kind of a threat to anyone inside here. 

Sheathing it, you slowly begun walking down the hall as the dim light faded along with the door lowering closed once more. The corridor itself was large, so much so that even a crowd of Hutt’s could fit themselves in no problem. Your boots barley making a sound as you walked through, trying to recall through the fog.

Following in a line should lead you to twist that narrowed down to a stairwell surrounded by blocking rocks carved around them. The activity was silent and not bustling with life as was the time you had been here. Dragged through the crowds with a chain around your wrist to keep your slaver from losing you to the wandering eyes. Not that you noticed. 

Many of your slave owners in that time kept you completely dosed. Sensing that your presentation would stir up whatever alpha’s were in the vicinity they kept you on heat suppressants for years to keep them from ever happening, which in turn, helped keep your scent dulled to that of a mild sweet scent that only the most keen of alphas may not have been able to pick up on. 

The blockers were the worst though. You couldn’t get distracted either, any incidents and you might become damaged property and what good is an omega to sell if she isn’t in pure condition. So you were muted from the world as it was to you. A dreary and fog filled mind that made the beings around you barley feel like human. The effects were worse depending on who was giving them to you, and being dragged to Jabba’s palace, you were effectively a walking sedation. 

The unaware confusion and bumps were replaced with the clarity that there was little but silence until you reached the turn leading to the main room. Slowly what sounded like faint talking, rose up to defiance and yelling. Pressing yourself against the wall, your heart sped up in your chest. The one voice was enraged, but the other was deep and scarring with absolutes. “Whatever arrangement you had with Fortuna, ended with him.”

You could hear Boba Fett further in the room, just enough solace to have you slink a number of steps along the wall before your toes reached the top of the steps. “I made a deal with Jabba, not him. But at least he had the honour to uphold that deal unlike you.”  

Peeking around the wall, you could see not much except for the shadow of a tall, lean figure that even in posture was clearly irate. Fett through his modulator was without question, the power and deepness rippled through your veins in a way only one other had done so. His voice speaking to whomever was there. “If I were anything like my predecessors, you would have been in the stomach of a rancor already for this disrespect. If you want to be treated with the same respect, earn it. Otherwise you stay at the bottom like all the others who’ve tried me.” 

Biting your lip in surprise, the other party begun taking the steps up. Slowly the red tinted scales matched the steam he no doubt wished was coming out of his ears. Kneeling down, you could see with each word he was being told, the snarl on his twisting face morphed. Hand at his own side twitching until he made it only a third of the way up.

Body stopping in place, he turned back to the main room, hand now touching the blaster at his side. A silent exhale through your nose, you very slowly took your feet down. Back pressed against the wall and each foot step slow as you matched the position towards your own weapon as your heart pounded out of your chest. 

The slimy rage coated your ears unpleasantly as you came close behind him. “Maybe this little war of yours will teach you what happens when you turn your back on your allies, Fett.” You barley felt your lungs even work, pulling your blaster out the same painfully slow speed that he was. Your eyes wide and hands trying not to shake, you took one final step behind his back. “Or I could just do it for them.” 

His hand rose up, blaster ready to fire until you rung the shot out firstt. The force jolting you back slightly, but there now was a burning hole in the Elomin’s chest. Blaster dropping from his hand to the ground, you lowered your aim. Coming up behind him, you breathed deeply before rising your boot up to kick him over out of your way. 

Him slumping over to the ground, you took the final steps down before kicking the blaster away from his still hand. Stepping over his feet, you looked up as you put your own back to see the throne room empty save for the one figure. 

Standing partway up the steps, Boba Fett stood clearly having just turned around to fire only to have seen the man slump over before. Lowering his own, your exhale was much calmer this time around as he tilted his head at you. Down a smaller corridor closer to him, Fennec appeared with her own weapon out, but with narrowed eyes dropped it just as fast at the sight. 

Her disposition changing as her eyes dragged up to you, now moving with a lighter bounce towards Boba whose stance relaxed back. “Thought you’d get here when Mando’s back.” 

Sighing out, you walked further into the room. Boots making a notable clunk as you walked along the gated doors cemented in the floor. Head turning to glance down but nothing was visible to the naked eye. “Should I leave and come back?” 

Boba chuckled, watching your curiosity with that of his own. “Nonsense. This place could use an omega, dim enough around here as it is.”

Looking back up, Boba stood on the lower level closer to you while Fennec perched herself casually on the arm of the throne. “Good to know I’m still a useful piece of decoration after all this time.” Behind you the steps of the Gamorrean filed down as he barked more into the air. 

Boba only nodding once to the body at it’s feet. “Get rid of that.” Like nothing at all, you remembered why many crime lords used them as guards. Pulling the Elomin away like it weighed nothing. Turning back to him, you almost jumped at how close he was. 

Both he and Din were far too silent for two fully armoured men of their sizes. “He said it would be safer here then back in the city.” Watching you, it was hard to assess where he stood with you. At this point you could read Din’s slight shifts as good as full sentences, but Boba Fett was still a mystery. One sending shivers down at the black visors cold stare that only intimidated you in such an enticing way back working behind the cantina bar in Navarro. 

But Boba, if you could guess anything, seemed to enjoy making you squirm under his stare. Keeping it up in pure quiet unlike Din’s change of smooth causality to relax you. “Unless-”

“He’s right. No safer place then with us, little one.” 

Eyes flickering to Fennec who watched you with a playful curiosity of her own. Strange as it was, you sort of missed her teasing yet sharp and unquestioning aura. Nodding, you readjusted your bag, if just out of fidgeting nerves. “Okay, so, uhm, what now?” 

Veins flowing with something that burned the way he stared at you, a feeling that wasn’t determined in your strange state. Broken only by Fennec coming up behind him unphased. “How about a tour?” 

Raising your eyebrows, you failed to hold back a smile. “That in your new job description?” In an exaggerated flourish with a deadpan stare she gestured you down the corridor she had come in through. Taking a second to speak quietly with Boba once you moved out of their range. Glancing around, not much had changed it seemed but it was a large room now that you stood in it so freely. 

Turning for just a second as she caught up with you, you caught his eye. Helmet turned a fraction to the side right at you, there was a wave shivering through your chest that had you swallowing nervously. A moment lasting only seconds before you let Fennec give you the run down of this place. 

By evening, the city was ramping up just as the suns disappeared and a calming night washed over the empty dunes. Despite such a high up point, the sight of the planets lands below in the dim early evening light did no such comfort, but not quite for the events to surely follow. 

Hearing the sound of armour, you perked up just as fast as you then deflated. It was of no offence to Boba, but he held a different kind of scent then Din. Just as strong, and strangely alluring but his alpha felt cooling and in control, whereas Din’s was warm and overwhelming. Your fingers twitched on the edge of the balcony as you returned to the skies.

Foolish to think he would just arrive as you seeked him out. You were the one who didn’t go with him, you had no right to miss him. For a second, the hiss of a helmet being removed startled you alert and straight. Coming down only at Boba’s light chuckle. “Didn’t think I looked that bad.” 

His voice bare sounded less scratching, more like a scarred rasp that you wondered if it was a result of the same events that left the physical ones on his face. Eyes flickering over as he came to stand next to you, you gave half a smile for as long as your energy could muster it. “Sorry. Should be used to it by now.” 

Shaking his head dismissively, his own gloved hands mimicked your position. “Nothing to be sorry for, little one. There’s few people who see me without it, but you’re welcome to be one of them.” 

It should feel like an honour, but your heart had little room. Leaning down to rest your forearms on the edge, your legs leaned back by the knee to accomodate stretching your back for a second before relaxing into the stance. There was no uncomfortable feeling in the quiet between you, but something seemed to be picking at your brain. “Your father was a foundling, right?” 

Out of your peripheral vision you could see him turn slightly to you and nod. Biting your lip for a second before continuing. “If he was a foundling, that would make you one as well. Since he raised you.” 

“Is there a question in there?” 

You inhaled your nerves, and blew none back out. “Why would Bo Katan say you aren’t a Mandalorian then? I mean,” Your hands moved to dig at the others nails mindlessly. “On top of everything else she said.” 

Suspecting he knew you were going prying for information in a much more roundabout way, you were still glad he played along. “Kyrze believes in blood supremacy. She was born to a powerful family thus she feels power belongs in her hands by birthright. Outsiders brought in are looked at as less then.” He noted the still somewhat confused narrowing look in your eyes. “I share the exact dna of thousands upon thousands of other clones. To her, my blood is as far as worthy it could get.” 

To even your surprise you jumped in before he could even finish his sentence. “But it’s not about who you’re born to, it shouldn’t matter if you’re a clone. D- Mando’s a foundling, a lot of people in his covert are foundlings they’re supposed to be treasured.” 

“Like omega’s are supposed to be.” 

Whipping around to look wide eyed at him, only to fall flat at the teasing glint in his eye. Shoulders deflating as you turned back to the view a shake of your head. Boba rested one palm on the railing as he turned towards you, mind putting your pieces together. “How about you tell me what’s really bothering you, and I can stop guessing the wrong answers.” 

A shake trembled in your neck and slid further down into your muscles. The trains of thought in your mind pathing you from grievance to grievance wondering what it was it all stemmed from and truly there was only one answer. The same answer you tried avoiding with everyone. 

Boba’s own stare weakening your resolve, forcing you to once again look back into the night for a ship that still wouldn’t come. Breathing deep for a moment before the racing of your heart got out of control. “Everyone talks about my presentation like it means something. Looking at where I’m from and telling me that they lied about where we came from or who we were when I already know that. I knew my family lied the second I was taken off world and the planets and people were nothing like the vicious monsters they made you all out to be. I thought, maybe if I could get out of this one day, finally be free to do as I please, I’d be my own person again.” 

Jaw set, you dug your nails into the harsh railing of the balcony. “But I’m still just an omega. I’m important, I’m uncommon, I belong to these people, no I belong with the people my mother was apart of, I’m supposed to be treasured as a rare commodity to Mandalorians but all I’ve done is get passed around from group to group solely beacuse of a presentation I can’t control. I’m seen as an omega, and so everyone thinks their the ones entitled to have me. Except...” 

Boba seemed to stand closer to your side now, his voice quieter but deeper as it hit your ear. “Except for Djarin.” Without committing in whole, you glanced only for a fraction to the man beside you but said nothing. “He wondered why you never asked him about you or your kind, when clearly he knew.” 

Saying nothing to answer the question he posed, it was obvious he wanted you to fill in the blanks for yourself. It was easy to strip away the barriers and see what was always there. “Because I went to him, not the other way around.” 

“To the others, you are a commodity. Who gets the omega, those her kind were stolen from or people like Kryze’s kind who wanted you out of the way in the first place.” You never did like the suspicious way Bo Katan looked at you, but Din was always there to keep you firmly at his side. "In a way you are right. There probably aren’t many people who see you as anything more then an Omega. But the ones that want you for more then that are already here. Or, in spirit.” 

His head gesturing to the night sky. Two people he meant in that case. So many people obsessed with what you were, and where you belonged or didn’t belong. Something you slowly came to realize, was a common threat amongst both Din and Boba as well. An apostate and an outcast, both alongside an omega who had no idea what her place in the galaxy was outside them. 

“What about you?” Turning your head enough to see him meet your eyes, a knowing deepness in them which you didn’t even catch in yourself. Not sure what it was you truly were asking. “You were asking me-” 

“The polite thing to do when getting to know someone is to ask questions.” Pausing, you squinted at him in slight confusion until the smirk forming on his own face made yours fall flat. “I’m interested in where you came from, because I find you interesting. Just as Djarin does.” 

Taking a step towards you, you straightened up as your lungs tightened in something feeling like a strange set of nerves, not quite stemming from intimidation. Before he found himself intimately close in your space, you found your habits slipping back. “I’m sorry. For dumping all of this on you. I just, I’m not used to being away from Mando without even having the kid, everything just feels weird.” 

Those very nerves turned into shivers flowing through your veins as Boba tilted your chin up to look him in the eye. “Nothing to apologize for, little one. You’re confused and upset,” the knuckles under your chin traced up so his thumb and brushed over your cheek, then down very gently across your bottom lip. 

You had never seen the exact look glazing over Boba’s eye in Din, but the feeling it gave you was all too familiar. The interested pull of an alpha calling to you. “Boba?” He hummed in response, “Is there a reason Mando wanted me to tell you to behave?” 

Oh the chuckle which emerged deep within his chest pulled your soul even closer in ways you once felt purposely from Din. “He sends me his pretty, little omega to protect. One who defends my honour, and opens up about what’s hurting her? I can’t imagine why he’d want me to behave myself around that.” 

His thumb pulled slightly at your bottom lip before sliding off of you entirely. Turning away to pick his helmet up, “You should sleep. Fennec will want to train you more in the morning while we have the time. Once Djarin arrives, I suspect thing’s are going to escalate rather quickly.” 

He almost reached the door by the time you called out for him, his face still just as warm as it was listening to you throw up whatever troubles brewed in your head. “Will be be mad at me? For not going with him to see Grogu?” 

Expression not changing, the quiet tenderness spoke out in his tone. “I don’t think there’s anything you could do to make him feel that way. Not with the way he speaks about you to me at least.” 

Your lips parted slightly, but he gave nothing else. Leaving the room and thrusting you back into the quiet solace of the dark windy balcony. Your brain stuck in a whirlwind. 

Sick to the stomach of feeling as if you have failed your duties as an omega to protect and support your family, but twisted over what the world wanted from you as the very same presentation. Boba’s warmth wasn’t quite the same, it would never quell the yearning to see Din again. 

But it did bring you a comfort that no one outside that little clan of two had ever provided before. If you were lost in your place in this world, maybe it meant something that the connection you felt with both men, also had their own turmoil of where and how to belong amongst their people as well. 

As it turned out, he was painfully right. Factions gathered, and the Pykes moved in quickly. Whatever negotiations their enforcer Cad Bane had assumed would take place were refused and the violence followed suit leaving little people left on your side. It was a mess, and left you feeling terribly out of your depth. 

Making it worse, you had no idea what happened on Din’s journey. Everything moved too fast and neither of you had time to talk. Just a questioning hopeful look from you, and a stilted head shake of no from Din and a sorrow sat upon his shoulders as danger loomed closer. 

Fighting ensued, and you were grateful that Fennec was a relentless mentor. Pushing you enough in the day and morning prior, building a trust that you could and would follow her lead out on the streets enough to handle yourself when she needed it. Her focus kept you focused. 

She was skilled on the sidelines, left better out the line of fire as a silent take down. A trait in which she recognized was suitable in you, even if by both your admissions, you were nothing close to a fighter. But in war, being a lesser suited follower was fine by you. 

Impossible to say how long the confrontation lasted, but the silence in the streets felt as if it was a sound you hadn’t heard in years. Leaning up against a wall, you shrugged part of your upper arm from the top of your shirt. Fennec coming to crouch at your side as you poured a bit of water of a burn striked through your skin from the dirt and sand kicked up into it. Wincing at the stinging, you glanced up to her and back. “Pretty sure only have a graze is a miracle if you ask me.” 

A slight smile on her face, Fennec reached forward to pull your shirt down better, gently taking the container to do it at an easier angle. “You did better then you think. Just because fighting isn’t your thing doesn’t mean your bad at it. You have a good teacher.” 

Smirking through the final wince as she dragged the fabric backup, “Yeah, I’ll be sure to pass the message onto Mando.” 

Briefly considering helping you up gently, Fennec resorted to just tossing the container onto your lap and standing up alone. “You always get bratty when you’re injured?” 

Throwing your head back in a laugh, you pushed yourself up with palms pressing against the wall behind you. “Maybe next time you should teach me how to do more then mouth off.”  Sharing a laugh, she led you to where the others were gathered in all likelihood. 

From a distance, you could see a rancor, flopped down on it’s side breathing heavily in sleep visible from where you were. But the image became clearer as you approached. 

In the stories of the old world your father told you, they were always grand. Powerful vivid images painting in your head from the words spun of drama and theatrics. Reunions one of those stories always told in whimsy. But there was none to be found here, not in your confused, torn heart. 

He was small, and cuddled next to the rancor on his side, but Grogu’s little green figure was easy to spot from miles away. Stopping mid step, the sights in front of you didn’t quite catch up to your brain. How was he here, Din hadn’t come back with him not by the weightful dread on his shoulders. 

Peli was also here. For some reason. Talking to the one from the meeting that you couldn’t quite tell was annoying or just a bit of a coward. The sight was unusual, but you could see the silver shining off Din’s beskar as he slowly approached the slumbering pair. Steps careful around the large creature, before kneeling down. 

His hand gently running over Grogu’s side who shifted closer into his touch. Din scooping him up in his arm to let him sleep soundly. None of them had seen you yet, and maybe you didn’t want them too. A fleeting thought that stabbed another dagger into your omega’s heart and told your conscious self that you weren’t worthy of that soft, gentle love they gave each other. 

Din’s attention was solely on the kid, cradling him up to watch him as he ran his hand over what he could get. Before you could rationalize it, you took a step back. No plan, what or where to go, but intruding on it felt wrong now. You didn’t go to see him int he first place. Why would you deserve to be apart of this reunion? 

Heart screaming to go see both of them, let yourself hold the one your soul treated as your own and the man who gave you a love once never known before. Your eyes stung like the burn on your upper arm, and before the tears could so obviously overtake you, you let them have this together. 

There was no plan in your head, just the need to get back to the palace where your stuff was and hoping reason and logic would kick in by that point. Instead all you got was more of a memory that made it feel worse. The terror of Din telling you to take the child and leave him. That he needed you, and staying here to help was futile. You could still feel the desperate way Grogu clung to you as you carried him from the room, both of you leaning into the other. Grogu’s scared and exhausted head burrowed into your front, as you looked at IG-11. 

Pleading in your gaze to fix things, you and Grogu might be able to do this together but neither wanted to do it without Din. The binding that kept you three whole. Only the memory didn’t serve as some great analogy like your father tied into his tales. 

Din and Grogu started without out, they didn’t need you. Everyone offered someplace for you to go, a purpose to serve but the only one you wanted didn’t feel as if you were worthy. You failed as an omega to Grogu, and a fierce alpha such a Din would surely admonish you it. If you thought the palace was quiet before, it was even moreso now. 

The biggest threat to his rule this far was taken care of, so hopefully this silence would turn peaceful not stay eeiry as it was now. The bag was tossed onto whatever bed you found yourself falling into the night before. Chucking your blaster beside it, you dragged your feet over. The first thing you saw though, was that silly little frog you kept for him. 

It was stupid. Din gave him what he needed, and more then plenty of what he wanted. The pieces of why Grogu found his way back to Din unknown, but you didn’t see yourself in that future. Slowly picking it up you could still see the way the kid clung it to his chest, making a content little cooing noise only to immediately get upset when you tried to get up and leave him be. How normal it was for the kid to switch between cuddling with Din and cuddling with you, and the excitement on his face when he wanted you to watch him about to do something particularly silly, usually to Din. 

Nothing had felt right since your heat had ended. Where you and Din stood was unknown, he was closer and protective of you, his touch similar to that of one bonded to you, and yet you were ummated. Just a companion who filled a painful emotional void once his son was gone, and now that they were together you failed to picture that dynamic going anywhere. 

He didn’t need to look for the Jedi now, he had enough of a ship to start making his way across the galaxy in his own quest for atonement and so your usefulness had worn out. Maybe you’d stay here if you could convince Boba you could find some way to be useful at all. 

No plan was made still. You had no idea that you even had passed out. The strenuous events of the day, the emotional turmoil of the past weeks and the fear you were no longer wanted had piled too high on the very little sleep you managed to get. 

Totally unaware of your surroundings, you weren’t at all aware of the voices in the room or the weight on the bed that joined you. In fact, such presence was only realized, when the weight on the bed seemed to jump, and land at your side with a high pitched coo. Sound increasing in distress until it was at your face and snuggled right up beside your head. 

Once your eyes fluttered open, big black ones wasted no time in realizing it. Grogu say on his side in front of you, one ear flopped out while the other sat low on his face as he reached out to you. Little hand brushing your cheek before a stubborn little noise flew from his mouth and he jumped almost with no effort right into your neck that managed to push you back. 

“Easy, Grogu.” He almost whined defiantly at the voice behind him, as he held onto you much like that very day. Following you sitting up so your back was against the wall, he started looking between you and the voice, dawning on you it belonged to Din. 

Head whipping over, Din stood by the wall underneath a window. Boba a few feet away, amused at the kid’s antics. Before you could even ask, Din stepped over, sitting down to face you on the opposite side of the bed. Bag and blaster now sat neatly on a surface opposite the bed. “I wasn’t allowed to see him when I got there, saying it was bad for his training for me to be there.” 

Instantly, your brows narrowed, but Boba interrupted right as you opened your mouth. “The real enemy to the Jedi. A loving family.” Your sleep riddled brain couldn’t decipher the double meaning in his tone, but you remembered Ahsoka telling you she couldn’t train Grogu because of how attached he was. That Din was a father to him and that somehow would get in the way. 

“Fett.” Boba raised his hands in surrender at his tone. Din turning back, watching Grogu turn his head, still wanting you to hold him but watching Din with bright affection. “I asked them to give him the shirt, and left. He was right there,” Din’s hand reached out, stroking one of the kid’s long ears making him purr into your chest. “But he came back anyways. He returned to us, of his own accord.” 

The hand on Grogu slipped up to trace over your cheek. “I thought if you could see him, maybe it would make you feel better, but maybe it was better you didn’t come. If I could barley handle it, not sure tearing an omega away from her own foundling a second time would do you any good.” 

It should have clicked that it was unusual Din was having this conversation with you, a third party in the same room. But clicking the gears in your head into place, Boba mentioned both of them had talked about you. To what extent the back of your brain was asking. 

Looking at the space between you on the sheets, just a whisper was summoned. “After everything, I didn’t think it was fair to be just as lost as you, me being upset didn’t matter as long as you were more lost.” 

Boba’s presence was felt behind you now, giving your trio space but never quite enough keep away, which was fine with you. Din leaned in, pulling the back of your neck to keep you close, resting his forehead against yours. Chuckling as Grogu leaned in, gently leaning in the middle, and leaving your touch enough to rest a hand against the side of his helmet. “Our kind belongs together, mesh’la. Not just our presentations, but us. We’re in this together. Got it?”

Biting your tongue, you forced a choking feeling back down your throat for another time. Your hand moving to cover the little one of Grogu’s on Din’s helmet and briefly, Din covered both of yours with his free one. The serene moment ruined, by Grogu letting out a yawning whine as he dropped in both your touches. 

Pulling back, you let Din pick him up. “Alright. Back to sleep, kid.” Seemingly only going into a small room attached to this one, Din chuckling at a little sound Grogu made in his arms. “I know, well this is what happens when you play with a creature eight times your size.” 

Pulling your knees up to rest your forearms over, you watched Boba with a curious look. If he was here not just now, but this whole time, the two Mandalorians must have something up their sleeve and Maker knows you have no idea what they had put together. “Is there...something feels off here.” 

His eyebrows raised in a mocking way that didn’t quite match the play in his eyes. “Only if you want it to be.” The deepness in his tone rippling through you in a way annoyingly like Dins. “It’s all up to you.” 

The sound of a door sliding shut had you looking up to Din, now leaning against the door with his thumb looped through part of his utility belt and the other resting his forearm up on the door frame. A sight that was so simple, yet heated your blood noticeably. “Am I missing something?” 

Din stepped towards you, a hand reaching out for you to take. Letting him pull you up gently, he stood tall in front of you. “I’ve been trying to think of a way to get you out of your head. You’ve been on edge since your heat, and I hate watching you this way.” 

Fingers gently reaching to brush against the cool metal of his chest plate, you shook your head indignantly. “D- Mando,” 

“You can say my name, sweet girl.” You had no idea what was going on here, but you were being pulled so close to the warmth of in’s alpha, but also, part of you in another direction. A pull that Din would be able to sense, and yet, was allowing. 

Swallowing, you didn’t realize Boba stepped closer towards you. “Din, I’ve been trying to be there for you, you don’t need to do anything.” 

“Except he does.” Turning your body partially, you felt Din’s hands fly firmly onto your waist in no time and turned you to press your back against his chest fully. Boba only a few feet away, keeping a respectable distance unbecoming of the darker look in his tone and voice to boot. “An alpha can’t ignore their omega in distress, your pain becomes his. And best be sure you’ve consumed Djarin, little one.” 

Din’s hands tightened with his voice closer to your ear. “Not just me.” 

Your Mandalorian behind you, and Boba a step closer looming over you. “What are you-” 

Din’s hands trailed up, sliding just under your shirt to squeeze slightly at the plush skin he found underneath. “You say no, and this all stops.” Apparently Din expected a response, tightening his grip as he spoke sharper. “Okay?” 

Nodding fervently at his tone, it made your head spin. “Okay.” 

Pulling you closer into his chest, Din’s rasp even behind the modulator continued to destroy something inside of you, weakening your resolve to his touch. “Let us take you, mesh’la. Both of us.” Your mouth parted slightly, eyes trapped on Boba which if you could think clearly, was likely by Din’s design. His rasping words and touch, ached still further by Boba’s dark and intimidating eyes that raked over your body. “Get you out of your head.” 

Your gaze never left Boba’s even as you tilted slightly back towards Din. “Both of you?” 

Din nodded, and so did Boba. Oh this could not be what they both discussed about you, yet here you are. Boba took his turn to make a softer case, letting your true alpha pull your senses underwater as he gently swims his way over. “The only thing anyone’s asking of you, is to let us treat you like a kind, sweet,” Each word he stepped towards you until he was in your space just inches further away then Din was to you. “Pretty, omega you are.” 

Your breathing heaved as his own gloved hand traced your bottom lip just like he did before. Din’s comment for Boba to behave. There was no way they discussed this before, and yet? The protectiveness, the possessive feeling which could consume Din at the sight of other men, another alpha looking or touching you as if you really were just property weren’t there. “But Din-”

Giving you once last reassurance. “It’s okay to say no, mesh’la. But don’t just say it on my account. I want you to want it.” 

The air was stark and silent as you contemplated what on earth you were about to get yourself into, but there was a heat radiating from within and burned almost painfully as Din touched, you pressing you against his back to where he was losing his patience to hide how hard having you pressed against him like this made him. 

Din’s own mind both needing this yet confused at why he needed this. There was an angry possessive feeling he had around you, but Boba Fett came to be someone he trusted. And someone who he could trust with you. Putting you between them and forcing this constant looming anxiety in your heart out even if just for a time. One wouldn’t be enough, but between both of them? You’d have nothing left to focus on but their touch and their words and that’s the level of control Din wanted you to give up. 

Watching Boba touch you was going to be a jealousy that he didn’t know why he was willing to handle, but just maybe it’s beacuse you didn’t get to see how you looked together. Never having the gift of sight as Din touches you, only he knew how insatiable you made him and how addictive you looked writhing in pleasure. 

And he knew, you didn’t get to look at Din as much as you wanted. Always ready to let him blindfold you like an obedient omega so make sure he can take as much as his greedy mind needed. But if Boba was there, Din could sacrifice that just this once. 

You breathed heavily as Boba brushed over your lips, and it was Din’s words right in your ear that crumbled the insecurity keeping you from letting them take you as they wished. 

“Let him kiss you, mesh’la.” Looking back at him, he pushed you forward gently. “It’s okay.” 

It was an overwhelming feeling. The guilt of such an intimate act with another man, but the purring encouragement from Din to just let yourself give up control in their hands. Your hands hovered over Boba’s chest plate, fingertips only slightly making shaking contact. 

Din behind you undoing parts of his own armour almost turning your focus before Boba tilts you up to look at him under your chin. Leaning in he gave you plenty of time to back away, brushing his nose against yours feeling his breathe on your face. 

One hand grabbing your hip, and the other keeping his hold he teased bridging the gap but never sealing the deal. Din’s voice rang out, commanding an order from deep within, calling your omega to obey. “Mesh’la.” 

Jumping in your bones, you pushed up on your toes to press your lips against Boba’s. A small sigh coming from you as your hands continued to shake despite smoothing your palms out. And as soon as you crossed that initial barrier, Boba overtook the control from you immediately. 

Comparing the two of them is impossible. They are of completely different realms in nature with their touch. Boba is like a wildfire. Bursting at the seams from the onslaught, running hot and dangerous that can consume you if you let it do so. Once in it’s trap, escape only possible if it lets you. 

Deepening the kiss, you could feel your lips swell and bruise from the rough treatment, and once he bit the bottom lip he was so enraptured with, you gasped. Not just a gentle teasing nibble like Din, no should he have bit slightly harder he would’ve drawn blood. Your gasp was as much of a whine, his hand raking into your hair and tightening his grip to continue to move you. 

His tongue brushing into your mouth, tasting your own and coaxing you to follow suit. Your hands rising to dig into his cowl as he kissed and licked into your mouth until you had to pull back for air. Grabbing both your hands he pulled them in front to the side of his chest plate. “Undress me, little one.” 

It was hard to tell if they used their presentation to command you, or if having two of them in the room like this was just turning your brain into sludge. Nodding fervently, you swallowed trying to focus hard on taking each part of his armour off with care, just like you do Din’s. Who had ideas of his own. 

Pulling you into his chest once more, only now you felt much more the softer press of his body without the coolness of the armour at his back. Slightly pouting at not being able to do it for him. Din pulled your outer layer down your arms and stood back to let you continue. 

Hesitating once his upper body was done, you look up to Boba wide eyed in question. Shaking as he nodded, raking his hand through your hair once again as you knelt down. Your body feeling like it truly was becoming surrounded by fire at how this position felt, but you made sure to take your time undoing every piece, putting it down gently to where you now could see Din’s not too far away. Stacked just the way you do it. 

Looking up at Boba, now like Din, just in his flight suit, you ran your hands innocently up the length of his calves. “May I?” Dancing up to the bottom of his shirt, Boba chuckled. Watching slowly as you stood up. Hands raising his shirt as you did so until you stood in front of him. He did no work. Watched with dark amusement as you had to lean close into him to pull it off until it was down his arms. 

Din’s touch, crowded you just then. None of the patience, Din pulled your shirt and chest band up and off in one swoop. Not yet touching you he kept his arms around you, one on your hip the other by your mouth. “Bite.” 

Gently taking the leather between your teeth he pulled it off letting you see his hand as he yanked his other glove off and gently took the other from you. Finally able to look, you realized you didn’t really get the chance to see Din the way you could look at Boba now. 

Greedily reaching to run your hands over his large chest, eyes trapped on every scar, burn, gunshot that was painted on no doubt a story to follow. You didn’t know Din’s by sight, but you knew them by touch, so you did the opposite. 

Fingers tracing only lightly across each mark as you barley blinked staring at him. The heat in your limbs travelling between your legs. Skin rough in some places and soft in others you reached down to his pants and gently tucked the seam into your fingers. Not waiting for permission, you went to slowly move when Din did the same to you. 

Yanking your bottoms down, underwear in his grasp in one go. Tossing them aside. You whined in your chest as you felt his rough hands now bare run across your skin while you gently finished undressing Boba. Another sight you never got to see, but the heat between your legs now felt much like a need. 

He was a large and thick man, in more places then one including his cock. Thick and begging for your touch it was more then half hard. His hand thumb traced your bottom lip and tugged, gaining your attention. His eyes black as anything as his face twisted in a more aggressive harshness then the soft patience before. “Small mouth to fit such a thick cock.” 

Your thighs squeezed together as you ran your hands up his thighs glancing back at his length. Shuffling closer, you reached up to run your thumb and forefinger over his leaking tip. His legs steeled in a flex at the sensation along with his muscles constricting. Running them up and down his length slightly before gently cradling him close to the base of his cock. Almost like a kitten, you licked gently over the tip. Each time slipping more of him inside your mouth. 

Knees engaged each side of you as Din’s helmet soothed your sweating skin and leaned into the back of your head. His own hands running over your thighs but much firmer then your touch. He said nothing, but the more of Boba’s cock you slipped into your mouth the more overwhelmed you felt. Boba it seemed, was just as talkative in the bedroom as Din, but with one small difference. 

Boba took pleasure in being mean, and you only got more wet the more he talked. “Djarin’s far too easy on you it seems. Go on, little one you can fit more then that.” Sliding more in, you could feel Din run down to rub gently at your clit, making you moan around Boba’s cock. 

Almost like he couldn’t help himself, he ran his fingers over your throat as you slowly took more of him into your mouth. Full and overwhelmed you felt your nerves on fire as much as the fingers on your clit rubbed harsher, pushing more pressure into you as your mouth soaked the thickness inside it. 

Head starting to bob up and down, you felt tears at the corner of your eyes as well as your heart pounding each time you tried taking him deeper. “All the way this time, that’s it.” You cried around his cock as your nose pressed against the coarse hair around his pelvis soaking as saliva built and even dipped from your mouth the deeper he kept himself in. 

Din’s touch on your clit making you burn and shake wanting so desperately to grasp onto his arms but they were firmly set on Boba’s thighs as you slid his cock in and out of your mouth. “I knew you’d have such a filthy mouth, just not such a messy one.” His fingers swiping the saliva on your skin before tipping your gaze up slightly to see your eyes fluttering. “You wet from his fingers, from sucking my cock or are you just that much of a little greedy omega?” Moaning once more you felt him throb in your mouth as you felt almost lightheaded. 

One of Din’s hands slid up, groping at one of your breasts, fingers twisting your nipple enough to make you want to arch back into his touch, but he only shushed you gently in your ear. Your breathing already strained feeling that much weaker at how much your body wanted to writhe at Din’s touch. 

“Your girl like a mess, Djarin?” 

Both of Din’s hands stopped moving for a second, like he was contemplating something before he slid his hand down, shoving between your thighs as much the angle could offer. Sliding two thick fingers smoothly into your soaked pussy he groaned just quiet enough you could hear it. The one on your breast moved down to your stomach. “No, just greedy.” 

Din’s helmet now resting on your shoulder thrusting his fingers in and out with such little resistance and every slide of Boba’s cock making you clench that much harder. Groaning louder at how much he could see your wetness from even here, his other hand stroking your stomach with his thumb. Refusing to let you wince or flinch at your insecurity. No, he wanted you on full display. 

Boba’s hand raking around the opposite side of your head he pulled you into him close as he could, feeling him twitch inside of your mouth before letting go. “Fuck, such a filthy fucking thing, that’s right swallow all of it, good girl.” Boba’s cum spilling into your mouth, so close to the back of your throat and the twisting of pleasure Din was bringing you with his fingers made you almost want to cry it was too much. 

Slowly pulling you off inch by inch both men watched a mixture of saliva and cum almost dripping from your gasping mouth as Boba’s cock finally left you. Din’s hand turning you by your neck gently to look partially back at him, the darkness of the visor even contrasted to the gritted teeth and dark panting face of Boba’s. He still brought you comfort as Din brushed mercilessly against a sensitive wall inside of you. “Doing so good for me, sweet girl. So fucking good,” 

Your hands free you reached back to grab at whatever you could of Din as the heel of his palm roughly rubbed your clit as he thrusted them in and out almost rougher then before. Gasping you arched back, unashamed at how much it put your tits almost on display. “Din, please let me cum. Please, I’m so-” 

Whinging you couldn’t even finish your owns entrance as he pressed his other palm hard against your stomach as he sped up enough you could hear how much you soaked him. “Come on, you can cum mesh’la. All for me.” 

“Taking all the credit isn’t your style,” Boba’s voice was further away, rasping with a dash of cheeky as Din pulled you right over that edge. Holding you tight against him as you cried out as your orgasm washed over you. Seizing your muscles tightly in his hold. 

“F-fuck, not ugh, your name she’s crying is it though, Fett?” 

Talking about you like your orgasm wasn’t in his arms and on display it just made you stutter a moan out even as you came down. Pulling his fingers out of you, Din pulled you up with him turning you to face his front. Moving your hands to gently pull his shirt off, you wanted to reach to run your hand over his chest only to get pulled roughly into Boba’s back. “He can have you whenever he wants, so how about you lay out for me?” 

Gently climbing up onto the bed, you could see Boba moving around to the end of it and Din carefully climbing up near the wall behind you. Just as you settled, Boba yanked you towards him at the edge of the bed. Spreading your legs wide to fit himself between. 

“Let’s see if an omega tastes as sweet as she smells.” A man with patience in many aspects of his life, but none as he pulled your hips closer to put his mouth on you. Crying out almost immediately as he licked from your entrance up to your clit. 

Din’s breath stuttering behind you, his eyes behind the helmet stuck on how much you gasped, back arched and legs already tensing in Boba’s hold. Brushing your hair sticking to the sweat of your forehead back, raking gently in his bare fingers like out of everything the soft silky feeling is what had him transfixed. 

Sucking your clit before almost biting it to make you jump, he Boba chuckled deep into your pussy as he licked inside of you. The roughness of his hands but the warmth of his mouth working you over so gently making you moan. Thighs wanting to close, but he kept them wide on the bed as he could force them. Refusing to even give you the reprieve of hanging them over his shoulders. You’d still have some control were he to do so. Your core inside hot and burning, too soon after Din made you cum on his fingers you grasped at your chest mindlessly. 

Only to have Din grab them. Despite pulling your head up to his lap, Boba never faltered. Just moving with the action to keep his mouth tasting you. Din however, wrapped your fingers in each of his before pushing them down on either side of you. His own cock unfairly hard and still confined by his pants, but he needed you to come again. He never gets to fully see how you look cumming on his mouth, but now Din refuses to miss it. 

Shaking in his hold, you were far too close from your last orgasm. The coil inside you twisting and flaming as Boba never faltered in his moves. Feeling a smirk against you as your stomach muscles started to tense up. Your hips lifting from the bed slightly as he pulled you into his mouth from a better vantage. His tongue deep as it could go, you started to loose yourself. 

“You gave me one, mesh’la. Fett deserves one too, for everything he’s done for you.” 

Boba’s nails dug into your skin as he pulled you right over that edge, not even hearing the noise coming from either of them. Just ringing in your ears as you came, falling apart on his mouth that refused to stop licking you up and down until you stopped spasaming. Your senses like you were drifting underwater, only soothed by Din’s soft touch letting your hands go to gently cup one of your breasts again, like the small massaging sensation and gently playing with your nipple just enough of a spark to keep you near the top. 

The two Mandalorians however, had no plans on giving you time to catch your breathe. Like you were a doll light enough to be tossed around, Din manoeuvred you to straddle his lap. Your hands instantly running down his chest, eyes wide at how broad and soft he looked outside of even just his flight suit. 

One of his hands ran up the length of your spine, the other running across your hip over you ass and back down your thigh like a pattern. “Pull me out, sweet girl.” 

Nodding mindlessly, you reached for his bottoms. Thighs clenching around his as you pulled his cock out, long and intimidatingly thick as well. You knew it felt as such but seeing what you had previously fit inside of you made you shiver. Wrapping your hand around it, you ran your thumb over his tip. Gathering as much precum as you could and stroking his cock with it, slow and a light grip that Din never touched himself with. His voice raspy and lustful. “We can do this a few ways, but it’s all up to what you’re comfortable with. We can go easy on you if you’re more comfort-”

Shaking your head furiously, “No, no whatever you want. Both of you, please I want you to do whatever you want,” Turning to see Boba who also was know up on the bed behind you. 

His hand reaching out to keep your head turned on him with his hand on your jaw. “Are you sure?” A second nod yes, had Din groan. Covering your hand with his and tightening your grip on his cock. Boba’s eyes on you. “I’m gonna open you up back here while you sit on his cock.” 

Dins hands reaching behind to pull your ass cheeks apart enough to sting. “Come here, sweet girl. Let me feel you.”

Looking back you propped yourself on his shoulders as Din held you by your hips. Sinking you down was far too easy, from making you cum on his fingers and Boba’s mouth you soaked his cock before even sitting on it fully. Din moaned as he sunk into you fully in one go. His helmet dropping into your chest as his own stomach heaved trying to control himself. 

Your moan was high pitched and needy, hands grasping onto the bit of hair sticking out from his helmet his hands pulled your chest more into him. But as soon as you tried moving, Din held you in place head lifting up to look disapprovingly at you. His tone sharp as his words were short. “Are you in charge?” 

Pausing, you clenched around him, making an even wetter mess already but you shook your head no. Your mind too in the clouds to even joke otherwise. Feeling Din trail his hands up to hold you by the back of your neck and waist. Pulling your forehead to his you shivered at Boba’s hands on your hips. 

His large frame pressing into your back as his hands trailed downwards, squeezing your ass lightly, then rougher each next one. Finally, one of his fingers moving down. Collecting the wetness still soaking you and nearly the bed at that point before moving it back up between your cheeks. 

Stilling briefly as he pressed against your ass, heart racing but your head still in the clouds could do enough to nod. Boba leaning closer to your ear with a deep, “Good girl,” before sliding his finger inside of you. 

Gasping, you pressed into Din more who tightened his grip on your hair, but held you not in comfort but to keep you nice and steady for Boba who was keen on riling you up more as he spoke. “Never been taken here have you, little one?” Chucking deep when you shook your head no. “Not treating her right are you, Djarin? If you’re leaving some of her firsts for me.” 

Sliding the hand on your waist, Din moved his thumb against your clit. “I’m the one filling her pussy nice and full, aren’t I sweet girl?” You moaning just as Boba slid in a second finger and such a moan turned into a whine. Your body on fire, your insides already burning to the ground your body only able to focus on either of what their hands were doing. 

There was a stretch and a burn inside your ass that just two of Boba’s fingers were pulling from you, but the gentle side of a third had you jump. Crying out desperately as Din’s hand in your hair tightened painfully. Voice scattered, you didn’t know if you were even making sense as you writhed in place. “I, fuck, I don’t wanna- wanna upset either of, of you..” 

The hand now loosening, Din slid it down to the back of your neck, pulling you to look at him. His voice as rough as you looked. “You could never, cyra’ika. Fuck, you could never upset me, upset us.” 

Boba leaned into your ear, free hand wrapping around the front of your neck. “You ready to take me, little one? It’ll be a stretch, but I’ve opened you up nice and wet for me.” You swallowed, your eyes on Din and your focus on the their hands but you nodded. “You sure?” You nodded again. “Hold onto him, then.” 

Din sat up better, holding you in his lap. The second Boba started pulling his fingers out, Din thrusted just out of you enough to set your insides alight. Thrusting back in but slowly, forcing you to feel his cock stroke against every inch of inside you as you moaned. 

The slow pace making you lean into him quietly, only to cry at Boba now pressing his cock up against you. Leaning forward, he pulled you out of Din’s hold making you lean back against his shoulder to look up at him. Like they were in sync, Din slowly pulled partway out of you as Boba barley pressed his tip in. 

Din’s final reassurance once more like fired the bullet. “It’s okay, cyra’ika. You can kiss him.” 

This time Boba kissed you, his roughness resuming from before and Boba slowly started to push inside you as Din slowly filled your pussy back up. Your body feeling like it was panicing, heart racing from all the stimulation, but Boba kept slowly filling your ass until he, like Din, was sat fully inside you. 

Pulling his lips from yours, not bothering to hide how deep he had his tongue in your mouth he clenched his jaw at the feeling. “You still with us?” It took you more then a moment to answer, barley with an uh-huh as you clenched around both of them. 

Din’s thrusts slowed down dramatically, his cock almost just grinding in you with painfully gritted teeth hiding behind the helmet. Boba, started to fuck you, but far less gentle. Both of them, feeling the desperation of your omega yearning for more of it. 

You couldn’t describe how it felt to have him pound you from behind that way, it was new and almost so foreign it scared you but you were desperate for it. Crying and moaning only speeding his hips up more and more. The slapping of his skin against yours contrasting with how soaking wet your pussy was with each slide of Din’s cock was obscene. 

Should have made you feel embarrassed but with your body pressed between their chests you couldn’t find yourself to care. “Fucking tight little ass, can barley shove my cock inside you can I?” He pounded harder, your body bouncing more on Din’s from the force. 

“Should feel what her cunt’s like, I’d never-fuck, would get you to fucking leave if you felt her.” Din and him just not speaking to you, but about you and yet it just felt too good. Like they wanted to get you out of your messy head, and to do it, treated you like a you for their pleasure and you were burning on the inside. 

Boba’s voice scratched to hell in your ear, “Gonna let me cum inside your ass, little one? Spill inside you just like Djarin would?” Looking up at him you nodded, Boba sharing a glance with Din that you didn’t see before he kissed you again. 

His cock pounding into you fast, your ass jiggling with the force as Din sped up inside your pussy. Himself leaning back against the wall, watching your face and your body transfixed as his thrusts were slower but far rougher. 

It seemed to sneak up on Boba, his orgasm. A few sudden thrusts almost too fast for you to be able to handle, before he pressed up against your back, head sinking into your neck with a groan. You felt his cock throb inside you before it started to fill you with his cum. Thick and lots of it he fucked you until he was empty. Slowly pulling out, to watch your ass gape without his cock still there to fill it and his cum leaking out of you. 

Din, didn’t waste time. Flipping you around so he was on top of you, pressing deep inside your pussy and fucked hard as soon as you were laid out for him. His cock so painfully hard and desperate to cum inside you, Din was rougher then normal. Your legs wide as possible to the point of strain, and the sound of his hips slapping into yours was loud. 

You didn’t expect it then, but you came from nowhere. Your orgasm splitting inside you and washing over your body as you arched back into the bed. Boba, leaning over to kiss you, his tongue commanding yours as Din started to lose composure. 

“Defect, my perfect girl with the tightest cunt, gonna fill you up okay? Gonna let me spill inside this pussy the way I want, like you deserve- oh fuck, baby,” His helmet dropping into your chest as he held both your hips still as he came. 

Slow thrusts as he too, felt like his cum spilled inside you forever. Your ass still full and whatever leaked out now spread against your cheeks as you were pressed into it from behind. Boba’s lips and tongue swallowing your moans and cries as Din gave a few final pushes. His body shaking from how hard and just how much he came inside of you. 

Both of them, let go of your body very gently. Boba slowing his kiss down to something gentle, before pressing a peck to your swollen lips and one to the bridge of your nose. Din took longer to pull out of you, his cock still half hard from how worked up he got, waiting until he went soft before leaving your soaked warmth entirely. 

You weren’t sure if you passed out, or if you dropped that hard. You felt Din’s touch and his gentle words but not much registered as you tried coming back to your senses. Only really feeling back in the world as you settled against Din in the water. 

Water? 

Looking around, you were in a large tub built into the stone ground like an indoor pool. Leaning back you felt his helmet and arms wrapping around your front. “Welcome back, mesh’la.” 

Laughing lightly, you looked around the room. Not quite a room like a refresher, but it seemed to be solely for the tub in there. “Did I pass out?” 

Din traced his hand over your stomach, “Not quite. You were out of it for a little bit though, thought a bath might help bring you back a little bit.” Smiling weakly you just leaned back into him. Enjoying the quiet. 

A question however poked at your brain, “Where’s Boba?” 

“Checking on the kid. Figured it might be a bit calmer for you to come down from tonight with just me for a little bit.” Pausing he almost sounded worried. “Did you...like it?”

Turning in his arms, you straddled his lap hands on his shoulders much more relaxed this time despite both of you being naked now. “I did. It was...a lot. But I liked it. You were were..” Din suggested the word rough, which made you laugh. “Yeah, but I was going to say safe. I don’t think I’d do anything like that with anyone else. But Boba-” 

“You trust him.” Nodding gently, he ran a hand up and down your back. “So do I. Would you ever want to do it again?” 

Leaning into his forehead you smiled. “I think so. As long as I get just you most of the time.” It wasn’t really obvious that the screaming insecurities didn’t rear their ugly head in that moment. You were stiff, quite sore, but content and snuggling into Din like a loth-cat. 

It was quiet for a bit before you asked about Grogu, only to feel mostly as confused as he did for how he got back. Either he was sent across the galaxy all alone or Peli’s story was just wrong. Either seemed plausible considering what you knew about your curly haired friend and the Jedi. 

Not that everything was perfect, but you felt content. The protectiveness of how Din held you was that of an alpha shielding his omega from the world around you. Din almost brought up the question of mating you, but he wasn’t sure his timing would be the greatest were he to bring up that biting into your neck to mate was all he had been thinking about since he got you in the bath. 

He also had a necklace. Two distinct animal skulls carved of beskar into them for when he did. But for now, you both soaking in this elaborate tub in each others arms would have to do.

Besides, he wouldn’t live down the amount of shit Boba would tease him with for mating you right after letting Boba fuck you the way he did. There might be a bit more of this dynamic to explore. 

He and Boba trusted one another, a companionship that made him trust the other man treat you with the proper respect of a fellow alpha. Omega’s were precious to Mandalorians, but Din didn’t want to share you with his people just yet. 

Sharing your affections with just one other was an acceptable middle ground. Well two others. 

The second you saw Grogu again, the idea of you leaving this little clan became practically impossible. 

[catboymoments]

Behold my beautiful space ouppy that’s been years in the making….

“Humans and the bridge they built once they established first contact and achieved light speed have been a major proponent of the galaxy’s interstellar expanse. Their knowledge is vast and their perseverance is great- for better or worse- and with the new resources from the sudden advancement into space, they began creating technology more advanced than was ever seen before. Automatas, colloquially called “mechas” or “robots” of this caliber are varied, and yet unique for the job they provide. They’re the perfect blend of delicate sinew and machine, a true marriage of creator and creation.

Automatas are piloted by a combination of neuroscience and nanotechnology. The robot physically connects to its pilot’s nervous system with a series of microsensors- the personal ones for an average consumer are more rudimentary and require a single pilot, but the bigger you go, the more complex the system becomes, the more pilots necessary to function. So far, the ones on the ECLPS project have the largest number, that being a team of five.”

[nevess]

[ i love thee with a love that shall not die, till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old. ] - William Shakespeare

🌱… description: You and Anakin are stargazing and he can’t stop looking at your beautiful face.

🍵 … warnings: none, more Anakin fluff :p

🧳 … character/s: Anakin Skywalker x Reader

☕️ … word count: 760 words ; | date: October 3rd, 2023

🗞️ back to the main menu

a/n: still just making anakin x reader fluff cuz tumblr needs it. :) Hope you enjoy it! <3 Disclaimer!!! i didn’t read it after finishing, so i apologize for any typos :p In other news, im looking for beta readerssss here's the post!

The moon hung low on the horizon, casting a silvery glow across the quiet hilltop. Anakin Skywalker and you had returned from your respective missions, weary from the battles and conflicts that seemed to define the Clone Wars. Tonight, you both sought solace in the serenity of the night sky.

Laying on a blanket beneath a tapestry of stars, you gazed up at the twinkling constellations, captivated by the beauty of the cosmos. The galaxy seemed vast and endless, a stark contrast to the turmoil you faced on a daily basis.

Anakin's eyes, however, weren't on the stars above; they were fixed on you. He watched you in awe, his heart swelling with a deep, unspoken love. Your profile was illuminated by the soft moonlight, casting a gentle glow on your features, and in that moment, you were the most beautiful thing in the universe to him.

Lost in his thoughts, he finally broke the silence, his voice soft and filled with admiration. "You know, Y/N, I've seen countless stars in my lifetime, but none shine as brightly as you do."

You turned your head to meet his gaze, your eyes locking with his intense blue ones. His words caught you off guard, and a gentle blush colored your cheeks. "Anakin," you replied, your voice tender, "you have a way of making every moment feel extraordinary."

He reached out and gently traced a finger along your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I can't help it," he whispered, his eyes never leaving yours. "You're the most incredible thing I've ever known."

Your heart swelled with emotion at his words, and you couldn't help but smile. Anakin's charm and intensity had always drawn you in, and tonight, beneath the starlit canvas of the galaxy, you felt a deep connection that transcended words.

As the night wore on, the two of you shared stories of your missions and the challenges you faced, finding solace in each other's understanding and support. Anakin's laughter echoed through the quiet hillside as he recounted a particularly amusing encounter with a droid army, and you couldn't help but join in.

The moments of levity were precious, a reminder that despite the weight of their responsibilities as Jedi and soldiers, you were still able to find joy in each other's company. Under the vast expanse of the night sky, it felt like the galaxy had granted you a brief respite from its turmoil.

As the hours passed, Anakin's gaze never wavered from you. He admired the way your eyes lit up with enthusiasm when you spoke about your passion for diplomacy and negotiation, and how your determination shone through when discussing your duties as a Jedi. To him, you were a beacon of hope and inspiration, a force of nature he couldn't resist and wasn’t going to.

At some point, you both lay down, side by side, your fingers intertwined as you continued to stargaze. The conversation gave way to comfortable silence, a shared appreciation for the quietude of the night.

Anakin broke the silence once more, his voice a soft whisper. "Y/N, I know we face so much uncertainty and danger every day, but the terrible agony im in when you are not near goes away as soon as my eyes see you. In the horrors of what we may or may not do in batter… when i’m with you anything is possible. I love you."

You turned to him, your eyes locking onto his, and the world seemed to fade away. You were mesmerized for his way with words, and how he would always know how to make you feel loved and appreciated. "Anakin," you replied as you look at him with all the love in the world, your voice filled with sincerity, "I love you too, more than words can express." You smiled as your thoughts gathered around one very specific… You can’t believe you are so lucky as to have him as a partner.

In that moment, beneath the starry tapestry of the universe, your love felt like a force of its own, unyielding and eternal. Together, you found strength, love, and hope under the stars, and for as long as you gazed upon them, you knew that no matter the challenges ahead, you would face them together.

© Nevess 2023. My original posts are not allowed to be edited, translated and/or re-uploaded on another account or platform without my permission, nevertheless, re-blogs are accepted and very appreciated.