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markiafc · 5 months

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notes on mlc

some personal thoughts about buddhism and mlc :D in some ways, its a further elaboration of the ideas mentioned in this post. @ananeiah @seventh-fantasy

amongst the 3 main chinese philosophies, buddhism is the closest to my heart and personal life. confucianism comes second as i was exposed to it only in accompaniment to buddhism (studied 弟子规 standards for being a good student and child pretty intensely and its had a lot of presence throughout my life + a more modest focus on 三字经 three character classic). and lastly, i'm the furthest away from daoism. i know little about its texts and theories though most of my relatives are daoist; buddhism is on the scanter side in my family. there's a lot more to chinese philosophy than just these 3 schools, but a lot can still be gleaned from this limited scope.

namely: there is a cultural obsession with organizing society. it extends to other parts of asia as well, but chineseness does have a fixation with inventing structure, with dictating every facet of human life, with creating meticulous and intricate systems that resemble million-cog machines; all the little parts (living, breathing people) must perform what they were designed for, and the whole can then function perfectly. a lot of this lies in confucianism. it devises specific social roles and rituals, it calls for conformity and uniformity, it teaches you exactly how to live. confucianist texts (and chinese governing bodies) tell you what your childhood must entail, what your teenage years must be like, what qualifies as adulthood. what marriage is. what a family is and how to conduct yourself within it. here are the exactly defined spheres that make up your entire life like building blocks. there are details, situations that may arise and the correct way to respond, and there are steps. for every person, regardless of age, gender, race, class, etc. there is a guide to follow and stages to accomplish. this is a system for our benefit. we must abide. don't we all want to be good people and live a good life?

it stands to reason that there is an old and enduring conflict within chinese thought. buddhism, daoism, and other chinese ideologies exist to combat this rigidity, this extensive manual to living human life. they assert that surely there is something beyond. surely there is something more meaningful to our time on earth than propriety, tradition, discipline, etc. does this really establish goodness and generate fulfillment? what are the ingredients to human happiness, really? this interplay lies at the center of these 3 major chinese philosophies. (among a multitude of other things, of course, a highly diverse and ancient culture can't be boiled down.)

sometimes chinese stories explore that unyielding and severe, at times cruel, social order. it is the entire world as far as the eye can see. and these stories draw from buddhism (or other beliefs like daoism, mohism, etc.) to portray a way out. to find freedom from that choking machine. how do we escape institution and systems? from a mahayana buddhist perspective, that question is the same as: how do we be happy? and these are the chinese stories that truly, viscerally gut me to the core because i feel it deeply. it feels true and real and earnest. mlc is one of those stories to me.

briefly, this is on a basic level what chinese buddhism is in spirit:

everything in our mortal world is because of 因缘 cause/effect. every event, every emotion, every phenomenon is a result of something else. and this newly-produced result will then go on to become a cause of its own, inciting other effects. it is a chain reaction.

significantly, it is also a cycle. in the chinese eye, in the buddhist eye, all is conceptualized as a process. everything is broken down into step after step, and understood as such. animals have a reproductive cycle, the chicken and the egg. rain exists via the water cycle. and the human being is the most complex creature of all. we are a result of many, many cycles working in tandem all at once. inside our bodies and our minds, the chain reaction is at play, renewal and cessation and renewal and cessation.

this means that everything is always changing, on a level we can perceive and also in imperceptible ways. everything is subject to change, especially ourselves. this, too, indicates everything is a byproduct of something else. everything has a recipe behind it, everything is a batch of different components, baked together to create the cohesive final product. we look at it and see sponge cake, with frosting and edible decorations. we dub it "cake", and forgo the reality that it is egg, flour, sugar, and so on. we place emphasis on the labelled idea of a "cake". so long as we think inside this framework, an instinct that comes naturally to all human beings, nothing is as it appears.

such impermanence & the human urge to depend on such methods of conceptualization creates suffering.

therefore, never be tricked by form and appearance. always look past the veneer, the whole it seems to be. a cloud is labelled a cloud but it is merely a step in the water cycle, water changing forms. matter is a combination of atoms. and our anger, sadness, discomfort is always more than the simple emotion. look closer. buddhism urges you to dissect it. analyze, question, break down. everything in this world is an effect, it is a construct. it comes from something, somewhere. and then remember, everything is subject to change. even society, especially society.

buddhism repeats over and over again. many things feel true but they are not. it feels true that women are inferior to men, but this reality does not stand up to close inspection. why do we think this? reflect on ourselves, what exactly did we intake that resulted in this final conclusion? what ingredients created and perpetuate this form we label misogyny? analyze, and then change it.

buddhism is a cultivation of the self, an endeavour to re-train the mind to think in new, better ways. it teaches how to recognize falsehoods that pass as unshakeable, irrefutable beliefs. how to remove ourselves from it. and how to master our minds towards better mental processes. this is enlightenment. in buddhism, it can mean so many different things. but the concept is most popularly synonymous with 智慧 intelligence, exactly because buddhism prizes the refined mind. one that is no longer stuck believing in falsehoods and illusions.

how do we be happy? we cultivate a different way of thinking from the mainstream, from traditional society. become unstuck from your old self who is entrenched in our world, along with the fraught beliefs it instills into every single person. nirvana is a state of mind. and happiness is freedom, which necessitates departure.

llh re-evaluates his identity and his life, that is his arc. he pinpoints the beliefs he used to hold, that he was so sure mattered. the idea of heteronormativity and the patriarchy seemed so important to him at the time, it was all there was. but then he comes to realize he was wrong, it was all false. he interrogated himself and those ideals deeply, and spent years cultivating a new way of thinking. he also removed himself physically and emotionally from the world lxy inhabited. by becoming llh, he becomes undefinable. everyone else struggles to comprehend him, they are not equipped with the tools to digest the concept of llh.

(the fact is "lxy" was always there. he was just invisible to others because they simply could not properly process what they were encountering. this happens over and over with fdb and the baichuan folks. it is not his physical appearance, in fact he still looks about the same. he is rendered unrecognizable by the gulf between beliefs. by an inability to perceive what they are actually seeing.)

llh escapes but it is not far enough. society catches up to him again, llh becomes parseable to the world all over again. he is once again defined, and defining himself, through the mainstream concepts. uncle, master, guardian. a friend, an enemy. an ex-lover turned friend, a love rival, etc. his identity is contingent on existing in society. and as a participant in society, he attempts to construct his identity through a combination of labels. he allows himself to be perceived, for it to matter how others view and understand him. to let the way they think inform how he thinks too. the way he lives and goes about his life is wrapped up in new versions of old institutions. labels and concepts all over again.

the different combination of ingredients creates the illusion of a different final product, a different person. and to some, that may be the wisdom and change they need to be happy. not everyone needs buddhism to be happy. but llh makes an effort, experiments, looks closer and closer at himself. and he decides it is not enough for llh, so he transforms. he takes all his time and experience, and devotes it towards a new outlook on the world.

the cycle repeats, and every buddhist can only hope that this time the new round would end differently. its impossible to know but it is always worth trying. because this is the road to happiness; this complete and utter egress. the buddhist ideal of becoming a mystery. to become untouchable by that restrictive society and its standards. invisible once again. impossible to fathom because you are not beholden to definite labels. form and a consolidated, concrete, and organized identity is how the others process the world. but you are not what you seem. you are more than what you appear. your form does not reflect what or who you are.

so how do we be happy? it's simple, we say goodbye.

#莲花楼 #me is mark #post that is for like (2) or (3) people #hear me friends as i self-indulgently muse about mlc aloud #pretend i didn't say this was going to be a fanghua post #i got caught up in the preamble and ended up talking about buddhism & mlc again #:3c #i'll maybe add on to this in the future #i still want to talk about fanghuaaa #their r/s is so dear to me #but for now just some personal thoughts/feelings #i mean this post to be a newsletter of sorts #i can't emphasize it enough #that lxy/llh's arc is word for word the buddhist teaching of 无我 non self

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transjarlaxle · 7 months

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ok so. kaine has obviously existed longer than bg3 and gale have, so with that in mind i have two questions

first of all, who was kaine before bg3 and gale? did kaine have a different partner? did kaine as a character change at all when you put him in bg3? is bg3 canon now?

and secondly, what made kaine x gale make sense? what made it happen? what made it grow to this immense size?

one of these days i could probably sit down and share all of kaine's history + lore but that would require my brain to work in some organized way so likely it won't happen</3 but this i can do

[deep inhale]

the first thing to know about kaine is that they were born entirely of whatever the fuck happened to my brain the first time i watched the music video for move by taemin. they were an idea way before this, but literally within 24 hours of this album drop they became a fully realized creation.

in their very earliest iteration, kaine was the only child to a minor noble family in an unnamed nation somewhere in faerun, and they were born very sick and as such grew up intensely sheltered. prior to their first campaign (hoard of the dragon queen lmao) they ran away from home in an attempt to prove to themself that they were strong enough to... well, to live.

eventually, they became the central part of an original setting, which i then created a homebrew dnd campaign centered around. the first time i ran a game in their setting circa 2018 they did have a bit of a fling with another npc, but it was more or less a tactic to tie their two parts of the story together. that game fell apart and when i began it again, rewritten (more than a year and a half ago!) that npc was no longer a part of it. they're still the main driving force behind the campaign - it was their prophecy that brought the party together, and they're using the party as their ticket to the outside world.

kaine didn't necessarily change much when they were stuck in bg3. i changed their lore a little bit, of course - the crux of my homebrew setting (osoa) is that it's a small place inside what is essentially a demiplane snowglobe, and what the people there perceive as the "spiritual plane" is the layer of the cosmos that separates them from faerun. in that version of events, kaine learns the truth through an arcane connection across the planes with another character (we don't have to get into his crazy ass rn) and kaine's efforts (along with the efforts of a cult of fanatics) end up shattering the glass and reconnecting their demiplane with faerun.

for bg3, all i did was push that story up, and made kaine more passive in it - osoa was reconnected with faerun when they were young, partially as a result of the ritual that imprisoned their magic, and by the time they grew up, it was old news.

so no, bg3 isn't their "canon" - although it's not any less canon than their original story, i think. there's the kaine that exists in their og story, the kaine that exists in my dnd campaign, and the kaine that exists in bg3 - all loosely related but equal in the end. i use them for basically anything i get the excuse to, anyway.

now. kainegale. [grabs you]

i hadn't actually intended to romance gale when i started playing bg3! i didn't play early access and my first campaign was a different character altogether, who i abandoned about 12 hours in because i fucked up a bunch of shit and also because gale had grabbed me by the dick.

i made kaine for gale early on because i saw him as a good foil for them. kaine is a sorcerer, but they spent their whole life studying magic theory. they weren't allowed to use their magic to their full potential because of its volatility and the nature of its imprisonment, so they were made to study everything they could in an attempt to ensure their safety. this, of course, built up resentment for magical theory and school and lessons and whatnot. gale, of course, is a wizard, and loves to read, but more importantly he loves to teach.

it is vital to understand this in the context of their relationship - gale changes everything kaine thinks they know about what magic is. not only is he a practitioner of a different type of magic altogether, but when he speaks, kaine wants to listen. they can hear the value in it. he makes it matter to them. and if there's more than a little bit of a professor/student complex in there, well. that's just the effect a little bit of positive reinforcement has on a motherfucker innit

and the more i got to know gale, the more i really felt that he and kaine were made for each other dkjsdfkjksd that sounds so corny but it's true.... there's just so much about them that i didn't do intentionally that makes me absolutely insane.

the symbolism. his name is gale for fuck's sake - the storm imagery is built in to his character. kaine is a blue draconic sorcerer - they're lightning, they're thunder, they're a raging windstorm.

as if this wasn't enough, they really are two sides of the same coin. they've both been dehumanized without realizing it, in totally opposite ways. gale by his relationship with mystra - she built him into something she could use, she made him think he was nothing without her, and then ripped everything away from him when he acted of his own will, effectively proving it. when we meet him, he thinks he's nothing. even in act three, at the carnival - "gale thinks that he, and the world, would be better off if he were dead."

compare this to kaine. they've grown up being told over and over that they are the strongest mage their bloodline has produced in generations, that they are the scion of house silva that is going to lead valais into a new era of prosperity, that they deserve all this and more - but they're not allowed to feel it. they're not allowed to leave the palace, they haven't been named or coronated to their people, their existence has been all but kept secret outside of their country, and they're not allowed to use their power. they've been magically shackled for as long as they can remember. their power is nothing but a tool, and it's not a tool that's at their disposal.

kaine teaches gale how to choose himself. gale teaches kaine how to be themself.

and their personalities, too. idk. i have these Thoughts and Theories about gale's time as mystra's chosen, and how he essentially has to adjust to being mortal again, and how kaine is all new to the world and experiencing everything for the first time, and just. im fucking holding them so tightly in my hands

of course all of this just exacerbates the most harmful parts of themselves, and everything gets worse before it gets better, but they are so. they just get each other. idk. it was like i didn't even try - they just became this thing that i am merely a conduit for. my muse, as it were

thank you so much for asking<33 there's so much more i could say about all of this i'm sure. i'm just so crazy about them both

#ask #this is so long..........dskjfddfk #kaine silva #my brain is a tangled mess. i love them. im going insane.#oh #otp: souls of steel #and actually ill maintag this. fuck you #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios

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kazz-brekker · 10 months

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15 Questions 15 Mutuals

I was tagged by @lachrymosade so thank you!

Were you named after anyone?

I go by the nickname Pie online (and also in real life a lot) but my given name is Eleanor, and my mom likes to say that I was named after Eleanor Roosevelt and Eleanor of Aquitaine

When was the last time you cried?

Not usually a huger crier (once joked that I cry twice every calendar year) but the last time was because I was very frustrated about having gone went to a career center for help with the job search since I’m an unemployed English major and they basically told me to take some quizzes about my interests and sent me on my way.

Do you have kids?

Nope, also not super interested in having them. My cousins have kids and they’re very cute but seem pretty exhausting to keep track of.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Ehhh…a fair bit I guess? I try not to be mean about it, though.

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Probably just like…their face and hair I guess. Also, there was awhile at college when I was meeting people in person that I’d only ever met on Zoom and I was always noticing their height (I didn’t meet my major adviser in person for like a year and I was surprised by how short she was).

Scary movies or happy endings?

Definitely happy, I would love to be better at watching horror movies but I get scared very easily.

Any special talents?

I mean, I’d like to think I’m a pretty decent writer and I can almost always think of a good and specific book rec for someone if they ask one. Oh, and I have a pretty good sense of direction in the outdoors, but for some reason not in urban spaces.

Where were you born?

Maine, USA.

What are your hobbies?

Mostly reading and writing, I enjoy swimming and skiing but not competitively so I guess those would be hobbies as well.

Have any pets?

Yes, I have two cats called Bean (black, obsessed with sleeping on my laptop case) and Jane (tabby, incapable of remembering that eating grass makes her sicks).

What sports do you play/have you played?

I was on the ski team when I was younger but other than that, not much for sports.

How tall are you?

Five feet, three inches (shortest person in my whole extended family except for the babies).

Favorite subject in school?

English, which is probably very unsurprising to anyone who follows me online.

Dream job?

I worked in my college’s library as a work study student and would like to keep doing it someday, though I feel like my ideal career is really just “something where I am not constantly on the phone or my feet, also have brainpower leftover for writing.”

As for mutuals to tag, no pressure, but how about @libraryleopard @acewizard @wizardysseus @allcountersarehipheight @luthiery @hauntedmoors @thewitchqueenofharrenhal @hangrybluewhale @ofstoriesandsongs @violaeade

#pie says stuff #my life #tag games

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rajanilefreak · 11 months

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Got the inexplicable urge to scream about Cat Street (manga version) after so many years so I'm gonna scream about it like my life depended on it just because.

Attention for spoilers. So, can I just say how sad any adaptation of the manga to other medium I found always fucks with it in some way? Some of the things I like most about the manga are precisely what's either changed or 'sanitized'.

So what's it about? Here's the most spoiler free version of it I can give you: There's this shut in former child actress teen. She had lived under a lot of pressure from her mother and then had something happen to her that made it so she felt incapable of acting due to trauma. And because she was rather well known, she was constantly being confronted by it, hence the shut in part. The story is about how she stops being a shut in and eventually goes back to acting and a building decorated with cat statues on the roof and with several quirky characters inside is at the center of it.

Now for spoilerish things that I like about the manga. It has what I call the 'obvious male protag love interest that she's totally going to end up with' character... but she doesn't actually end up with him. Like, the whole story he feels like the sort of guy the girl ends up with in any shoujo. There's also the other male character 'that you sort of root for but know she's not going to end up with because he's not shoujo protag enough compared to the other'. That's who she ends up with. What i like is that the romantic tension between those two in very on the downlow. like, you can feel they have chemestry and like the thought of them together but don't actually think they will. So it's very rewarding when they do end up together.

BUT that whole tension of the plot gets lost when you write away the 'obvious male protag' and replace him with a new filler character just so that you can focus on the actual male lead and hyping him up more. And I understand why they did that, but it ruins it for me. They whole point was that he wasn't the typical male protag, that there was a very obvious one that also liked her there but that she didn't have to end up with him. Removing the love rival and hyping up the end game to protag levels breaks the specialness of the whole thing. It was understated but it was theirs and that made it perfect.

Then there was what was my favorite moment in the manga that gets retconned immediately. There was, back then, this preconception of 'female protags of a shoujo can never to any wrong. if they do it's by accident and they definitely got in over their head and have to get rescued by the male character.' sort deal. And while i can enjoy that to a certain extent, I enjoy far more female characters that are more proactive and actually do stuff and don't need to be rescued all of the time. The main character is a girl that is undersocialized due to being a shut in. that means the she is perfectly capable of going feral mode in defense of the very first female friend she makes in years that she can trust not to stab her in the back.

So picture this (and this is very spoiler of the scene in question): best friend in incredibly sad because she got rejected by the guy she liked over her aesthetic fashion of goth lolita. but that's not all. he and his freinds had gone out of their way to humiliate her. Now our girl is pissed. that's her best friend! she gonna get some serious revenge because she is that ride or die over it.

So, she studies the guy, see's the sort of girl he's into, uses her acting skills to lure him into going on a date with her, purposefully chooses a sort of isolated park and, when she feels like it's time, she humiliates him right back. but our girl isn't dumb, She knew he would lash out and retaliate. She was ready for him to retaliate. she called the cops in advance because she knew he would try to retaliate. she gets him framed for attempted sexual assault and arrested. Is it wrong since he didn't actually do it (arguably might not have even tried to do anything since the police interrupted him mid lashing out over the humiliation part)? Yes! But she knows that. She feels bad about it to an extent. She ruined his life over humiliating her friend. BUT at least it was something she chose for herself and she was actually smart about it from start to finish. Even the help she got from the police officers couldn't be categorized as damseling her because she planed that. She is the protag but she doesn't need to be a perfect innocent. it's actually more realistic that she isn't considering her past.

First friend that wont backstab her gets hurt unnecessarily? Feral rage more engaged!!!

After that she talks to endgame guy about it. she's remorsefull and needs to let it out and he's there for her. doesn't recriminate her or anything for her plan, just supports her.

What does the adaptation do? welp, clearly she's too innocent of the ways of the world to realize that it's stupid to confront the guy who had no trouble humiliating her friend in a deserted park at night. cops who? don't know her! Girl obvs too dumb to plan ahead for anything. Now let's make endgame guy be the one to actually call the cops after realizing her plan and rescue her at the last moment. Oh and because we can't make any of the lead have less than perfect moments, lets make the guy actually be a rapist.

why did they pic this manga to adapt if they don't like what makes it unique? That would be like taking Ed from FMA and changing any moment he is pure genius into a typical male shonen protag that only does smart thigns by accident, eats a lot, is eternally cheerfull and mostly dumb but with a ton of 'power of frindship' tossed in for extra shounen protag-ness.

so in conclusion. I like the Cat Street manga and honestly believe it deserved better. And I hope to re-read it once i have time for it amidst everything I'm doing.

#cat street #manga and stuff #manga adaptation #if you need to alter what makes the original special and different from the stereotipical of the genre why not choose a different one #if I wanted perfect lil miss shoujo protag theres a thouse other manga/anime i could be reading/watching #raj's rants

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cdelphiki · 2 years

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Hi i really enjoy Reclaiming Innocence 💜 you’re such a talented person and i like that you always take time to kindly reply to your followers 🥺 Which is super awesome of you to do that ❤️ I know you work at a museum. What did you study for in order to get a job like this? I have social anxiety so I don’t want to interact with people way too much I currently work in an office environment but I’m in college trying to figure out a career that I will enjoy while at the same time let me work alone half the time. Do you interact with a lot of people? Thank you so much you’re awesome, and you don’t have to answer back.

Hi! Thank you!!

Museum work can be either very solitary or very, very social, and unfortunately you can't pick just one path. Often the people down at the lower level will have more tour duties, and then once you get up higher you're back on tour duties, but now for more Important people.

A lot of collection managers end up doing tours and educational programs alongside their work at all levels, which is essential public speaking. I had very bad social anxiety in high school, to the point I'd get sick to my stomach when I had to go somewhere new with new people. I realize not everyone is the same, but for me personally it did get better (a LOT better) as I continued to push myself and step into new and scary things. I went to school for history for my undergrad, then public history for my master's. During grad school I volunteered at a local heritage society creating educational programs and helping catalog their collection(I worked with 2 others intimately), was the collection manager at my university museum(I worked alone in a room 19/20 hours a week), and volunteered (which eventually lead to a paid job my last year of school) at my local national park (I was never ever alone). As a volunteer I worked the visitor center desk, and my mom swears up and down that that specific experience was what helped me learn to conquer my anxiety. And it did, because I had to answer the phone and help the person on the other end, point people toward the bathrooms, and answer basic questions. My paid job for them was as a tour guide, which was 8 hours a day of social interaction. (And it was Exhausting, as an introvert. I'm so glad I did that, because it's helped me be more social as an adult, but I will NEVER do it again. LOL)

My current job, I generally only interact with my coworkers, and occasionally answer the question of a visitor who has caught me wandering the property, but sometimes I do interact more directly. There's always meetings, where I'm representing the museum and the collection to people within and from outside my organization, sometimes Important people (like the time a senator visited!), and sometimes our education department needs an extra body, so I'm following along on tours, and answering specific questions about the objects there.

So, I guess what I'm trying to say is even jobs that seem like they're very solitary aren't really, especially in the public history / museum field. And if you're in college now, I highly, highly encourage you to try to push yourself a little. Anxiety is real, and it's awful, and it's scary, but I've always seen it as an obstacle to get around, and I highly encourage trying to get around it now, rather than giving in and spending your whole life in solitude. As someone who suffered badly from social anxiety all growing up, I promise it can get better, and it's definitely not something to plan your entire life around. Yeah, maybe don't be a flight attendant or customer service specialist, but don't try to wall yourself off from people entirely.

As for if you'd enjoy museum work: Do you enjoy research? History? Lots and LOTS of policy and guidance to memorize? Database management? Inventory? Housekeeping and environmental monitoring? Those are the main aspects of my job.

Some of the not-so-lovely pieces: dealing with donors or potential donors who want you to take their grandma's beautiful precious tea cup that her great-great-grandfather definitely stole from the king of england and smuggled here in 1635, no they don't have proof but grandma SAID, irate visitors mad your institution doesn't have insertwhateveritishere and saw you walking down the corridor to the soda machine so they're gonna take it out on you, and dealing with potentially tricky situations with the collection itself- like theft, missing objects, and potential illegally gotten-objects.

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foolcrum57 · 2 years

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YESYESYES TELL US ABOUT YOUR OCS PLEASEEEEEE <:DDD

ok this is message is from me whos about to post this after typing all of it. there is . A Lot here so im gonna put it under a readmore but the copious amount of infodumping is just what i do when people ask about my ocs... hope this isnt too long or overwhelming to read lol..

OMG OK ok so i collectively call all my oc stuff "wttu" (welcome to the universe) but i have 2 seperate oc universes (i have a lot of ocs) ones called godsworld and ones called newsworld. newsworld is really random & spotaneous & where i dump all my silly ocs and godsworld is the more coherent one with a solid storyline & worldbuilding. i feel like talking about godsworld ocs right now so that's what ill do ! ok so quick synopsis. godsworld is a multiverse comprised of many dimensions, all created by three gods named time, choice, and destiny. magic is real and common and magicians have existed since the beginning of time. there's also a few very special super magical very powrful beings / demigods called all-seers which were specifically "blessed"(idk how else to put it) by the gods. these are the 4 all-seers as of godsworlds present:

(sorry for the doodles im drawing these as i type) william and miso were created by the gods and given allseer powers later in life and around 200 years later the same thing happened to gertrude and mitchell after they met william and miso (yeah these guys are like ancient immortal people i call them the four immortals) anyways that's like the ancient stuff lore so now let's get to the main stuff the main storyline of godsworld centers around a kid named tobias , and a guy named cremini finding out they're going to be the next two allseers, mainly because of their connections to tobias' late father (and creminis ex classmate ex roomate and sort of ex boyrfriend) Larry.

and like. that's kinda where the lore and worldbuilding part gets vauge because the present is kind of just these guys having adventures and doing fun stuff while honing their magic skills. there's still a little more to talk about though.

after living out his childhood in a town called santerton, tobias went to live in a magical sanctuary in a dimension that the four immortals made and where miso and william live called the Home(creative i know) where he met 3 other guys around his age that are now his besties ;

parker is royalty from a dimension that's still in the 1800s (hes pretty smug and arrogant both bc of his upbringing and also just because that's his personality), carson is a city kid from a dimension that's still in the 90's (he's a pretty chill guy despite his circumstances and the oldest out of all 4), and daniel's from a remote fishing town in a dimension that's somewhere in the 2010s (who ironically, loves fishing and is also just really energetic and hearty in general). on the other hand, cremini, after finishing college at a very prestigious school for time and dimension studies that mitchell teaches at and fulfilling his childhood dream of time traveling and then accidentally throwing himself into a white void Because Emotions, met. this guy.

his name is dylan. and he is now cremini's boyfriend and they live together. he loves books and reading (which he gained a love for after gertrude [who is a librarian] helped him with pushing through his dyslexia). honestly idk what else to type, that's kinda just the general gist of the main characters in godsworld but there is like a lot of lore and history and a solid timeline with lots of stories and characters in the whole world of godsworld as well as a lot of worldbuilding stuff that i didnt touch on so i think the fact that this is a relatively consice recap says. a lot. anyways if you read down to here i genuinely appreciate it and um please dont hesitate to ask more ocs questions wether that be in my asks or dms or whatever <3

#crumling #wttu: godsworld #<- tag for godsworld since i actually made a real post about it yipee #oc stuff #<-ill chnange this once i think of a better tag lol...

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nerdy-nintendo-noodle · 1 year

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Decided to spoil my followers and any readers who may trip over this post on accident~. I introduce you to the beginning of an SPM AU in which Dimentio has no idea of magic and stumbles into a magic city of Sulphuris people, of which Blumiere is a part of. In essence, the first time Bumiere and Dimentio met.

Warning: some mention of blood and a tad bit of swearing. Enjoy!

The night

The bustle of the day had coaxed him out of believing that he'd seen something strange in the back field. Had it not been for the presence of his friends, Blumiere would have stood there, studying that odd silhouette beside the tree. The alcohol he'd Consumed, or more like drenched himself in, gave him a peak in curiosity.

He blankly lay in bed, staring at the ceiling in all its intricacy. The patterns distracted him from hearing the usual vibrations of his magic that lay within the veins of his body. And it was then that he was able to hear the aggressive wail and vibrations of a different kind. From something else. Blumiere huffed a bit, turning an ear to the open window in his room. They were getting louder. Part of him hoped that someone else would go and investigate. The other half, which was quickly turning into two thirds, grew curious. I am royalty, I am part of the Royal DNA in this existence. As his brain prepared a boot to give him up the behind, he found his body answering to the beckoning call of curiosity, standing before he was aware.

His existence was either nothing or something. Like something out of these soap opera movies. He was either fighting for his life against a war with other beings, or learning how to, one day, guide the whole of his kind to safety and protect them from any harm. Please, I just want something different. Something to take me out of it. The alcohol brought forward thoughts he wouldn't usually entertain, ones that he'd usually fight until the urge to answer to them dwindled. Blumiere was made to cave in and exit the large castle of his father's and explore.

Blumiere wasn't exactly drunk, but steps he did take in the street did feel odd. His center of balance was off. But he felt as though he could put up a fight with any threat that may have been laying about. The cobblestone paths in the center of the street weren't helping anyway either. The Count continued to retrace his steps from his night out with his party of mates from the tribe, becoming increasingly open to his senses. Especially beyond opening a gate to the field from before.

Hmm. Maybe he did have a right to start worrying. Blumiere guided the residents, called Sulphuris people, protecting them from any threats that may come into their lives. Their main threat, to date, was human people. Ironic, considering that these pathetic pieces of flesh wanted to throw hands just because they felt threatened. Dying at the hands of a human would be absolutely terrifying, not least because they'd probably want to conduct researches on their magic DNA. And Blumiere was more certain than not that if one got killed and their secrets were unleashed, then they'd want more and they'd be hunted down.

Lucky then, that the town had a magic barrier that surrounded it anyway. Which begged the question, what the hell was able to get through that? If it wasn't a human, or animals, then good lord what kind of species was it?

The souls that inhabited the empty space were agitated. That's what he could hear from his room. Their vibration frequencies were directly related to emotion and intention. Fearful was like an aggressive zipper on an overcrammed airport luggage bag. Whereas anger was akin to a vibration from a phone ringing on a desk. And as Blu surveyed this surrounding area, he walked through a maze of sound and emotion. There was, somewhere, a distinguishing, loud and angry vibration. One of the stronger spirit orbs was, quite frankly, rattled and pissed. Blumiere saw the tree in sight from before under the moon's Spotlight and caught a glimpse of a red spirit orb. The other spirits, ordinarily coloured blue, gravitated away from the ball of anger as it wafted by. Blu followed the path it had left behind and was melted by the sound of shivering and held back sobbing.

"Hello?" Blumiere asked from behind the tree.

"You have a stupid defence system around here, whoever you may be. I need help, come around, I am of no threat." The voice gathered itself enough be coherent. Blu slowly walked around, swallowing hard.

The sight he was confronted with sickened him half to death and he could only thank the higher people of his religion that he was immortal. A young male, knelt in the grass, wheezing and groaning like every breath was an effort. Crimson liquid ran through the blades of grass when it could no longer seep into his clothes. There was too much blood on his shirt for it to remotely sponge up the rest, the clothes were as wet with it as they could be. The stranger finally looks up. It takes a while for Blumiere to follow the blood path toward the strangers face before he realises that, oh... The spirit from before felt so threatened by the person that it had outwardly attacked the new guy. And, as a result, his eye was missing.

"Good lord I must apologise on behalf of that spirit. You weren't intending to harm us, were you?" Blu crouched as he asked and snatched his Cape from around his neck. He hoped it would suffice as a compress of some sort.

"No. I was trying to escape from a situation that was worse from this anyway. So this is actually quite tame to what I'm used to day to day. I'm sure it'll be a welcome change. You can't hope to ever apologise for the spirit. If it wanted so, it would have said it in the immediate aftermath." The guy stuttered, tightening his lips in a half smile attempt.

"Oh... your life was worse than this? Oh dear. Do you have a name?"

"Yes, multiple, of which I've earned. None of which to be proud of by any means. But I associate my name with the past life so I'd rather get myself a new one, which is more positive."

Blu didn't bother waiting too long to prick a vein in his own wrist and apply the clear liquid that slowly dribbled out from himself onto the guys open eye wound.

"Well, I would like to call you something... because I am going to take care of you. What would you prefer?"

"What do you think I deserve?"

"Magician?"

The newly appointed "magician" barely had any time to think about whether he would've liked an acquaintance. Blu had already swept him up and started to walk him toward a large castle.

"Why magician? What is that?" The injured man asked again.

"Well, I thought of it because you were able to get through the magic barrier into our town. To do that, you must have inherited some kind of magic DNA within you. And now, considering you're attempting to forget your past, I think you should be called Dimentio..." Blu mused.

He liked that, there was some truth to that. Dimentio drew his hand up to his face. It was only then that he'd realised that Blu had administered some kind of natural antibiotic pain relieving stuff to his eye. It had become a little more bearable now. He found it strange, how he could feel so secure already. Having just met this guy, this feeling was extraordinary. He'd gained a feeling that had been lost on him, or not even found to begin with, for several painstaking years. He'd already exercised precaution, patience and wariness every waking day of his previous life. He wasn't quite sure he'd escaped the trauma of before. After all, he'd just been attacked. But, in some kind of backwards thinking way, Dimentio felt that the events that unfolded that night were signs of change. Of good change, none the less. And the way he could just stride in under a complex system of magic so easily was, difficult to comprehend. But he was definitely sure that this, guy of power next to him was going to help him navigate it. Not least to the begrudging eyes of the residents, if the Count decided to reveal him at all...

((More coming soon, hopefully 😊))

#au #clueless dimentio n helpful bleck AU #my writing #blumiere #count bleck #dimentio #super paper mario

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denvermasco · 1 year

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Review of Discovering Our Happy Flow

As I browse a ee-e book on Amazon, some thing stuck my eye and lit my hobby as I examine via the ee-e book precis which, I can say, actually pressured me to buy it. It`s the ee-e book "Finding Our Happiness Flow" written with the aid of using Dr. Robert Puff, Ph. D, a scientific psychologist, existence coach, and worldwide speaker who's an professional in counselling human beings and companies for twenty 5 years.

Now, I began out to wonder, what's proper happiness? With all of the pressures and needs of existence and society, can someone be truely glad? Am I glad? These are simply a number of the questions I requested myself as I development with the ee-e book.

What I love approximately the primary bankruptcy is the tale of God and Jim, the individual that continues on praying to God approximately the whole thing. Then God seemed to him and requested him for his remaining wish, some thing he wants. The God taught him what he wishes. Well, the center price of the tale is that contentment is happiness. When one learns to be happy with the whole thing he has, he'll in reality end up glad.

Appreciation and Determination

Dr. Robert Puff cited withinside the ee-e book that labeling matters will maintain us from accomplishing proper happiness. In his ee-e book, he recommends that we take slow, lengthy walks, pay attention to the nature, and spot matters while not having to over-examine however simply with the aid of using searching at them as clean and new. In that way, we are able to absolutely revel in the adventure and spot the sector as a glad and delightful vicinity to stay in.

Moreover, withinside the ee-e book, the writer emphasised that a good way to be truely glad, one wishes to be earnest now no longer simplest in accomplishing our dreams like fame, cash or success, however to be glad, itself. One may be a hit with out being glad. We want to be bendy and be given that existence can change.

Living Life to the Fullest

Dr. Robert Puff cited in a bankruptcy what we are able to study together along with his kindergartener, one of the few who gained a bronze medal. Despite the truth that a lot of her age gained gold medals, the kid preferred what she received and did not envy what different kids got. That is the principle factor of the tale, we must in no way evaluate ourselves with different human beings. We must now no longer strain ourselves an excessive amount of a good way to acquire some thing simply due to the fact others did. When we evaluate ourselves with others, we boom our hazard of main a depressing existence.

The ee-e book can train us to comprehend what we have, consciousness at the matters we like to do and stay existence to the fullest. We must be open to the opportunity that we may also fail, however that is what existence educates us, to win and sometimes, to fail, a good way to train us some thing and make us stronger.

Media

The mass media has a massive affect in our lives. Whatever we see at the tv or what we examine at the distinct structures can brainwash the community, particularly if it's miles approximately wealth and power. The ee-e book then recommends that earlier than doing some thing like dieting, looking cynical TV shows, or some thing that modifications our lifestyle, we want to invite ourselves if the ones matters are correct for us. Do they make us glad and healthful holistically? Answering those questions will manual us right into a extra correct with the intention to similarly lead us into happiness.

Read more: Review of Man's Quest for Meaning

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deliriousdisquisitions · 2 years

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feel free to ignore/delete this if you dont want to answer. i was curious about how you feel about your university experience and the university as a whole, and whether you think it is worth attending. sorry if this is really broad, im looking into peoples opinions about different universities as a potential international student.

Hello! Since this question is fairly broad I'll try to break it down into a couple of points.

I did my MA in English Literary Studies at the University of Exeter and overall it was one of the best experiences of my life.

Education: I did a Taught MA which meant that I had to attend weekly seminars, lectures, and writing workshops (optional) before finally writing my dissertation. The classes are discussion based for the most part and allow for more critical thought and analysis of the assigned texts. It is fairly independent, as I’m told that is the general experience of education in the UK. You’re expected to do the readings before each class and to do the bulk of research by yourself. It can be a little daunting if you’re not used to it. But it is understood that, as international students, we might have had a very different learning experience and might need a little extra help. In case you need help with your writing or are struggling in class, there are many resources available for international students and both staff and faculty are very supportive and willing to help out anytime during office hours.

Extra Curricular: there are a variety of clubs and organizations catering to student interest, everything from hiking, scrabble, books/movies, LGBTQ+, knitting, sports, IT, etc. Everyone I’ve met has been very welcoming and friendly. It might take a couple of tries, but you eventually find people with similar interests and hobbies.

Resources: the library is very well stocked with print, electronic, and other media resources. There are also archival manuscripts available at the Exeter Cathedral archives that you can visit. In case you need more resources, you can also check out the local Exeter Library, etc.

Application: the application process was very smooth. The application office was very helpful anytime I had any questions about funding/scholarships, or accommodations, etc. They promptly answered my questions and helped me fill out my form and get the required documents and basically guided me throughout the application process. Once I was accepted into the university, the staff helped me with my accommodations, bank details, visa applications, part-time job applications, and in getting acclimated to the new university environment.

Accommodations: I lived at Nash Groove (graduate residence) on campus and while it wasn’t the most expensive place it was a very clean, quiet place to live in away from the noise and bustle of the undergraduate dorms. We even had a cleaner come in to clean out the kitchen and shared living space once a week. There are also some accommodations with a meal service though I opted out of that one.

Campus Location and Security: Exeter is a university town so it's mainly populated by college students around the city center and campus area, most of which are international students. The campus is sprawling and pretty huge interspersed between town buildings. The city center is conveniently located just about a 30 min walk from the main campus building (15 min bus ride) and has all the necessities. It's a small town but I really loved it. They have a diverse mix of bookstores, pubs, grocery stores, malls, and shopping spaces. If you're like me and like old architecture there is plenty to see here.

Exeter was one of the safest places I’ve lived in. There are security patrolling the campus at all times. Buses and trains run till around 11 pm and are fairly cheap. Taxis are available at all times and in case of an emergency when you don’t have money to pay for it you can just leave them your student id number and pay it back later at the forum.

Mental Health: I think this is the only area of complaint I would have about my university experience. While it is advertised as being very accommodating, the mental health support at Exeter University leaves a lot to be desired. Same with the medical facility on campus. Unless you’re dying, you would have to make an appointment well in advance for any ailments you’re suffering from.

All in all I've had the smoothest University experience and would definitely recommend University of Exeter if you’re looking for a college to do your higher education at. It is fairly diverse and very supportive of international students so I never felt out of place and had one of the best educational experiences.

Hope this answers your question!

#deliriousdisquisitions #delirious disquisitions #studyblr #gradblr #uk #english literature #international students #international student #asks #answered asks #literature

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alpacaparkaseok · 3 years

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Relentless

I choose you.

→ Pairing: KTH x oc

→ warnings/tags/genre: SFW, soulmate au, angsty, fluff, mentions of a past abusive relationship

→ word count: 5.9k

→ a/n: made it! this is the bonus chapter of the original series “Lost & Found”, which I would recommend reading before you read this because it might not make a lot of sense otherwise. Please be aware that this jumps timelines a bit, so be aware of the headings before each section.

I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you all for waiting so patiently!

“Hello, my name is Christina, and I…”

“Take your time, Christina.”

She takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes on the floor even as all eyes around the circle are on her. “I cut my thread because my soulmate…he wasn’t a good man.”

Another deep breath.

“And I think I may have ruined a lot of other people’s relationships.”

Kim Taehyung, Kim Taehyung, Kim Taeh-

It’s been eight months since Christina has seen Taehyung’s soulmate, after firmly ordering her to find someone else to cut her thread.

“I’m not doing it,” Christina seethed. Angry, but for what? A real chance at love? Even as the thought crosses her mind, she scoffs. False hope is all that it is. “If you’re so set on ruining your life, go find someone else to help you.”

Ae remains composed, almost terrifyingly so. She stands with her arms crossed, her back to the warehouse door. She looks around at the tools lying around, no doubt trying to figure out exactly how Christina manages to sever the thread.

“Christina,” Ae mumbles softly, only making Christina want to scream even louder. “At least show me how-”

“Get out.”

“Listen for a second-”

“Ae, I’m not kidding. Get out of my warehouse. I’m not showing you anything! Just- can’t you just give him a chance?”

Ae blinks, arms falling to her sides as she laughs softly. “You think that’s what this is about? You couldn’t be more wrong.”

“Enlighten me, then.”

“I can’t do it, Christina. I can’t stand to live in his shadow for the rest of my life. That’s the only reason they were going to hire me! I didn’t-” Ae stops, rubbing her face angrily. “I didn’t even get to finish my interview. Once I was labeled as Taehyung’s soulmate, it’s like nothing even mattered anymore.”

Christina doesn’t quite know what to say to that, but she knows who does. “Talk to Jolie about it, then. She can help you, she went through the same thing.”

It should be an easy fix, right?

“Jolie, like Jimin’s soulmate?”

“I’ll call her right now, if you want. She knows better than anyone how to deal with this. Chung-hei, too.”

Ae hesitates. “That’s Namjoon’s?”

Christina arches a brow, about to say something snarky about labels, but deciding against it at the last moment. “Yeah. Just talk to them before you do anything drastic, ok?”

Once Ae agrees, Christina is pulling her phone out and sending a message to her group chat with Sunmi, Jolie, and Chung-hei. She ignores the sharp pain that goes through her when she sees that the most recent text was from Jolie, teasing her about Taehyung.

Me: I’m sending a new friend over to Jolie’s apartment. It’s an emergency meeting. Can everyone make it?

Everyone responds quickly, agreeing to meet up. Sunmi offers to swing by Christina’s apartment to pick her up, which she agrees to.

When Sunmi’s car pulls up, Christina gestures for Ae to head out.

“Aren’t you coming with me?” Ae asks. When Christina shakes her head, Ae’s eyes widen. “But, I don’t know any of these people.”

Christina smiles softly. “They’re going to be like family to you, don’t worry. Now, go. Tell Sunmi that I’ll catch up later.”

Ae studies Christina’s eyes for a long moment, sensing her lie but heading for the door regardless. However, just before she heads out the door, she turns around to face the solemn girl.

“You know, Christina…I know that it’s you.”

Christina’s eyes widen, but she says nothing. Surely she’s mistaken; how would Ae know about her ties to Taehyung? Perhaps she revealed too much by sending her off to Jolie, she should’ve known how obvious that would be-

“Yours was the first name out of his mouth today, not mine.”

And with that, Ae strides out of Christina’s apartment, never looking back.

Eight Months Prior (the day Ae and Taehyung met)

Taehyung’s hands are shaking as he slams the door behind him and rushes to the sink, crashing into it. He pants at his reflection, bringing one of those shaking hands up to brush the hair from his eyes but freezes when he notices the red thread dangling from his left hand.

“Hello, my name is Ae, and I’m interviewing for the camera director position.”

Taehyung had been slouched in the corner all morning, playing on his phone and wondering why one earth Christina had practically begged him the night before to go to the interviews. However, when he heard that voice…

“Wait,” he pokes his head up and looks toward the center of the room. His eyes met wide ones, the girl in question freezing in her place as Taehyung sat up to get a better view. “Do I know you?”

“N-no,” Ae jumps a little, looking apprehensive and automatically sliding her left hand behind her back. It’s that movement that alerts Taehyung to the life-changing knowledge that his soulmate is a mere few feet away from him.

The rest is a blur.

People cheered – cheered – when they made the connection, some staff member giving Taehyung a hearty pat on the back that propelled him toward Ae. Something shouted something about giving the couple some space, while another made a remark about Ae obviously getting the job.

“Her soulmate is Kim Taehyung,” they mumbled with a smile. “Of course she’s gonna get the job. How dreamy is that? Getting to work with your soulmate!”

Taehyung was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he didn’t notice the way Ae flinched at the staff member’s comment. Instead, he stood there like a fool as Ae kept her eyes on the ground, fiddling with a loose thread on her sweater.

It was only when the room fell eerily silent that Taehyung realized everyone had left, leaving him alone with his supposed soulmate.

“I’m so sorry,” Ae began, daring a quick glance up at Taehyung. “I didn’t realize you’d be in here today, I would have rescheduled-“

“Wait, what?” Taehyung frowns, his voice raspy. “You knew?”

As his soulmate studies his expression, he hates how she sees right through him. This beautiful stranger already knows more about him than his most loyal friends do.

Because Ae rises from her seat, crossing her arms and offering Taehyung a soft smile. A sad smile, that doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

“Don’t worry Taehyung,” she mumbles. “I’ll take care of everything.”

His blood runs cold when he realizes what she means

“Christina.”

When he stumbles out of the room a few moments later, the only thing on his mind is talking to Christina. He nearly drops his phone in the effort, but he finally manages to get her contact information up.

As he listens it ring, he wonders what exactly he wants from this phone call.

To beg her forgiveness?

Or to beg her to run away with him?

In the end, she doesn’t answer. Four missed phone calls and six increasingly desperate texts later, Taehyung bursts into the nearest room he can find. And it’s now, standing in the bathroom on the main floor of the Hybe building, that Taehyung tries to call someone else.

“Hello?”

“Jiminie…”

“Tae? What’s up?”

“Jimin, I-” Taehyung closes his mouth, staring down at his red thread before speaking again. “I met her.”

“You met…who?”

Taehyung’s pretty sure he can hear Jolie in the background of the call, and it makes Taehyung’s heart clench. His mouth runs on with his thoughts, forgetting that Jimin has no idea what he’s talking about.

“This can’t be happening,” he mumbles, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Why is this happening?”

“Tae, where are you?”

Taehyung can hardly hear him anymore, stuck staring at his reflection in the mirror and replaying the day over and over. Angry at himself for being so foolish, for the eternal track that his mind keeps running. No matter how he reads it, he always comes back to the same conclusion. The same question.

“How could she do this to me?”

When Taehyung left the room in a flurry of nerves and shock, Ae remained behind. Still in shock from the whole encounter, still wondering if she was supposed to finish up her interview.

She wished that she would have snuck out before the staff started coming back in.

“How are you feeling?” One staff in particular asked. She was a part of the board that was conducting interviews, her name was Lia. She appeared to be bouncing on the balls of her feet, staring at Ae as though she were an ancient artifact that had recently been uncovered. “Can you believe it?”

Ae smiled softly, fighting the uneasy feeling in her gut. “Er…no. Not really.”

At her words, the rest of the staff giggle and start chatting amongst themselves, throwing out the occasional question that Ae hardly has time to answer before another one comes. She finally clears her throat, glancing at Lia expectantly.

“So, uh…” she shakes her head, trying to sound more professional. “Do we need to carry on with the interview now?”

Everyone stares at her for a moment before Lia promptly bursts out laughing. “Oh, sweetheart,” she croons, reaching out and patting Ae’s head. “I mean, if you want to, we can finish it. But you know you’ve got the job, right?”

At this news Ae perks up. “Wait, really? I didn’t know-”

“Your soulmate is literally Kim Taehyung,” another staff member pipes up from the back. “How could you not?”

As everyone shares knowing smiles, Ae remains frozen to her seat. “I- you mean…” she trails off, and Lia tilts her head quizzically. “Not to sound ungrateful, but…say Taehyung wasn’t my soulmate. Would I still get the job?”

To Lia’s credit, she tries to look serious about considering the question. However, Ae sees all that she needs to see is that moment of hesitation. And when Lia opens to mouth to say, “Of course,” Ae slowly rises from her seat and excuses herself from the room.

That was the beginning of the end.

Later that night

Someone is pounding on the door. With a heavy sigh and tear-swollen eyes, Christina pads her way up to her front room. She stares at the front door, flinching when the knocking resumes.

“What?” She yells out, annoyance clear in her tone. The response on the other side of the door is muffled, but rings loud and clear through Christina’s ears.

“Christina, I swear if you don’t open this door right now-”

With her heart in her throat, Christina yanks the front door open, causing the annoying nuisance of a person to stumble inside, gasping. Once they gain their balance, Christina hurries to shut the door behind them, cursing under her breath at how freezing it is outside.

Her visitor tries and fails to hide his shivers, and he pants and pushes his mop of hair back. Water drips from his clothes, pooling on the floor and seeping into the rug. However, Christina can’t find the words to properly reprimand him as he straightens up and levels her with a piercing stare.

“Now,” Taehyung breathes out, jaw clenched. “Care to explain all of this?” He desperately points to the red thread hanging from his left hand, a testament to his soulmate on the other side of it.

“No. Not really.”

Taehyung’s eyes flash at Christina’s off-hand attitude, something white-hot coursing through him as she goes to reach for the door. No doubt to kick him out.

He won’t have it, though. In an instant he’s grabbed Christina’s shoulders, halting her in her movement and turning her about to face him completely. For some reason he’s panting again, and as Christina looks up at him through her lashes, he swallows heavily.

Hands falling to his sides, Taehyung clenches and unclenches his jaw. Christina remains silent before him, staring up at him as though daring him to speak. To say something stupid and making everything somehow worse than it already is.

“Don’t-” the word gets caught in his throat, “don’t shut me out.” Taehyung closes his eyes, squeezes them shut for a long moment before opening them again and chancing a step forward. “Don’t leave me.”

Christina knows she should step away, open the door, and kick Taehyung out into the rain again. Make him leave, make him call Ae. Send him over to Jolie’s apartment, where his soulmate is no doubt coming to see that cutting the thread isn’t the best choice.

But she doesn’t move. Caught in those endless irises, holding her in her spot.

And to think, just yesterday they were joking around. Comfortable. Happy.

“I don’t want to hope.”

The words tumble out of Christina’s mouth without her consent, however once she starts speaking, the words just won’t stop.

“Please don’t do this to me, Tae. Taehyung. I can’t be the reason everyone’s lives fall apart. I already ruined my own life, isn’t that enough? You don’t want me-”

“Why wouldn’t I want you?” He asks, deathly quiet.

Christina can’t stand the way he’s looking at her. Like he’d gladly give it all up – give his soulmate up – just to spend a little longer here with her. So despite the horrible wrongness of her words, she spits them out anyway in an effort to wipe that look from his face.

“You don’t want somebody’s leftovers, Taehyung.”

Taehyung jolts as though someone slapped him, mouth dropping at her words. His eyes glance down at her severed thread, the same one she’d held up a mere week ago when they’d sat together on the balcony of his apartment.

It had been with hushed tones that Christina finally told Taehyung her whole story. How she ran from her soulmate, desperate to find any way to cut her thread. And Taehyung had silently listened, holding her when it all became too much.

Now, those hushed tones have dagger-like tendencies. Now Christina wields the truth against herself, trying to sabotage whatever this is between them before it’s too late.

Taehyung doesn’t have it in him to inform her that it already is too late.

It’s been too late for a while now. He’s in too deep.

“Christina,” he breathes. His eyes are so dangerous, flashing with a moment’s anger as he thinks on what her words entail. “Do you really think that?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think-”

“Yes, it does!” Taehyung shouts now, and Christina realizes that she’s somehow managed to break down those walls. He was angry to begin with, so it didn’t take too much to stoke that flame again. “Of course it does, how can you even say that about yourself?”

“Taehyung, I’ve already accepted that this is how it’s going to be. Can’t you just be happy?”

“Be happy? Did you seriously just ask me to be happy?”

“Yes! No go find your soulmate and be happy with her!”

“NO!”

Christina jumps as Taehyung’s voice echoes through her small apartment, hand jumping up to where her heart beats madly against her chest. Taehyung huffs in front of her, eyes wild as he struggles to explain.

“How dare you throw this away?” Taehyung takes another step forward, boxing her in as her legs press against the back of her couch. “How dare pretend like I haven’t been happy this entire time, with you? Did that…weren’t you happy?”

Yes.

“Please leave.”

Taehyung’s breathing falters, suddenly more labored as he blinks rapidly. It’s only later that Christina will realize that he was blinking away tears. Tears of frustration, sadness, she’s not sure.

“Please,” she whispers, squeezing her eyes shut and dropping her head in her hands. “Please don’t make me the villain. Make it work, Tae. Just…try. For Ae.”

If Christina lifted her head to look at Taehyung, she would have seen him furiously wiping away a stray tear, shaking his head.

�� “But I don’t love Ae.”

Christina curls in on herself even more, silently begging him to not finish that thought. I love you.

Because he does. Or at least, he thinks he does.

But Christina knows that she loves him. She has for months now. And this is the best way to love him.

Give him the best shot she can at true love.

“You will.”

Christina swears she can feel Taehyung ghost a hand over her hair before thinking better of it. He stays for a while longer, breathing ragged and a million thoughts running through his mind.

Christina doesn’t dare look at him, still hiding her head in her hands.

“Christina…” Taehyung finally whispers. Even his quiet voice sounds too loud in her head. “Look at me. Please, look at me.”

She does after a few shaky breaths, willing herself to shut down her emotions as she drags her eyes up to meet Taehyung’s.

His eyes say everything, and it’s too much.

I love you, she cries out in her mind, eyes shuttering.

“Thank you, for making me feel wanted,” she says instead.

“Stop speaking in past tense,” Taehyung warns. Christina scoffs quietly, dropping her eyes once more.

“Go. Ae is at Jolie’s apartment still, I think. She needs to talk some things out with you.”

“But Christina-”

“Kim Taehyung, she’s your soulmate. I am not. Now quit complicating that and leave.”

He does, no longer able to deny her wishes. As idiotic as he thinks they are.

And he hates every step that carries him away.

Present Day (8 months later)

Groaning and yawning, Christina makes her way to the front room before promptly collapsing on the couch. She grabs the bag of goldfish she left earlier, popping a few in her mouth as she flips the TV on and begins flipping through the channels. She stops when she spots a familiar face.

“Tonight we’re discussing what could be the beginning of a new trend regarding soulmates, what some are referring to as the Kim Rebellion. Of course, this is a nod to Kim Taehyung of BTS, as he and his soulmate mutually decided to go their separate ways seven months ago. We go now to Lee Heesun for more details. Heesun?”

The screen switches to show a grim looking reporter standing outside of the Hybe building, a few people scurrying past him.

“That’s right, the Kim Rebellion has reached new heights this week as just this morning Paik Ae had an exclusive interview with Dispatch, outlining her reasons for parting ways with her world-famous soulmate.”

A clip of the interview pops up, showing a smiling Ae and the sight that threw the world into a tailspin after having just recovered from Jimin and Jolie’s drama.

A severed red thread hangs from Ae’s left hand. She pays it no mind, kindly answering the questions thrown at her and maintaining an easy smile. Christina watches in awe as she speaks, wondering how she could be so brave.

“Do you regret it?” The interviewer asks, and Ae looks as though she was prepared for the question.

“I don’t regret walking away, just like how I could never regret getting to meet my soulmate.” She finally glances down at her thread, twisting the end around her fingers. “You know, this isn’t for everybody. However, Taehyung understood my need to distance myself from him. He casts a big shadow,” she chuckles knowingly. “I mean, I’m always going to be associated with him. That’s fine. But…I want people to know that it’s ok to create your own destiny.”

And create it she has. In the span of the past eight months, Ae has done what Christina had always dreamed of.

Opening up the door for multiple soulmates to step away from potentially or actually dangerous relationships. Opening up the conversation for those isolated from society for not quite fitting the soulmate mold.

Normalizing severed threads, one day at a time.

Christina has even been able to make her business more known due to Ae’s efforts. No longer in fear of the stigma against people like her. Because after all, Kim Taehyung of BTS now sports a severed thread, of his and his soulmate’s own free will and choice.

So when seven months ago Ae and Taehyung went live to explain that they had no intentions of being together in any capacity, Christina chose to throw herself into her work. Diving in, being too busy to allow herself to wonder where that left her, exactly.

Don’t make me the villain, she had pleaded all those months ago. Taehyung was smart, he knew that bringing Christina into the light so soon after parting with Ae would lead to people getting the wrong idea.

Or was it the right one?

Bzzzz!

Christina’s train of thought is derailed as a text comes through, from Jolie.

Jolie loml: hey do you need a ride to your meeting tonight? Sunmi said she could drive you if you wanted

Jumping up from the couch, Christina scrambles to grab her shoes. Checking the time, she realizes that she should be able to arrive in time for her meeting if she takes the bus.

Me: nope, already left! Thanks though!

Jolie loml: let me know how it goes!! Love youuu

Me: ugh, so loving and supportive.

Cracking a small grin at the thought of Jolie’s reaction to her text, Christina runs out the door and toward the bus stop. “This better be worth the humiliation,” she mumbles.

“Hello, my name is Christina, and I…”

“Take your time, Christina.”

She takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes on the floor even as all eyes around the circle are on her. “I cut my thread because my soulmate…he wasn’t a good man.”

Another deep breath.

“And I think I may have ruined a lot of other people’s relationships.”

Kim Taehyung, Kim Taehyung, Kim Taeh-

“Welcome, Christina. Can we all say hello to our new friend?”

An array of different voices pipe up, some shy and others more confident. “Hello, Christina.”

“Hi,” she whispers to the ground.

“Now,” the facilitator begins with a gentle smile. “What makes you think that you’ve ruined other people’s relationships?”

Christina chews on her bottom lip for a moment before venturing an answer. “Because I work as a Severer.”

The silence carries on for a touch too long, and Christina glances up to see a couple of the people around the circle looking at her with wide eyes. There’s one girl in particular that glares outright at her, and Christina notes the cut thread that she sports on her left hand.

No doubt she’s blaming Christina for her current predicament.

“Ok,” the facilitator – what’s her name? If she squints, Christina can just see the beginnings of her name tag. Mrs. G? Mrs. G regains her gentle smile, urging Christina to go on. “You’re not the first Severer to join our group. Josh was one, remember?” There’s a few scattered nods. A couple of people even go so far as to smile fondly at the mention of Josh, giving Christina reason to hope that they might not all hate her for her occupation.

“And what happened to Josh?”

“Oh, well he moved a couple of months ago. He’s actually getting married, his invitation is on the fridge. You’ll have to look at it before you leave.”

Christina’s eyes widen at this. “He’s getting…he’s getting married? People like us can do that?”

Mrs. G laughs at Christina’s incredulous tone, but reassures her instantly. “Of course, Christina. We all deserve our own happiness, don’t we? Now be honest, have you had any mal-intent in your line of work?”

“Well, no…”

“Exactly. So, ‘people like you’, as you stated, deserve just as much happiness as the rest of us.” Mrs. G pauses, waiting to see if the words settle into Christina’s heart before continuing. “Happiness isn’t something pre-determined. You find it. You make it.”

The meeting continues, other people sharing their stories and their progress. Christina listens intently, interested to see a couple of other people that had cut their own thread. One boy in particular piques her interest.

“I’m a part of the Kim Rebellion,” he explains. “Paik Ae really inspired me, you know? Not a lot of people would turn away from someone like Kim Taehyung, but she really seems happy. I had been with my soulmate for two years, but I was never…I don’t know, I never quite felt like I belonged. Turns out, when I brought it up with them, they felt the same way. So we decided to take the leap, go thread-less.”

“And how has your journey been so far?” Mrs. G asks, sporting a grin.

“Amazing,” the boy breathes, with stars in his eyes. “I’ve never felt so free before.”

Before she knows it, the meeting is concluding and people begin to stack their chairs. Christina stands up to follow suit, but Mrs. G stops her with a hand on her arm.

“I’ll take care of it, darling. It looks like you have a visitor waiting for you.”

Turning, Christina cranes her neck to see a familiar mop of black hair just outside the rectangular window of the door, quickly followed by a pair of curious eyes that widen as they notice Christina’s attention.

“I- excuse me,” Christina stammers out, scurrying over to the door. The moment she opens it, Taehyung jumps back, looking a little sheepish at having been caught.

“What-” Christina can’t quite get the words out, just shocked to even see this man at all. It’s been…how long has it been? “What are you doing here?”

Taehyung doesn’t say anything, he’s caught up in that thing he does. Where he goes inside his thoughts, forgetting to respond. Christina sighs, rubbing her face and brushing past him.

This snaps him out of it, and soon enough Taehyung is jogging to catch up to Christina, jumping in front of her.

He doesn’t touch her. No, he feels like he shouldn’t just assume that he could ever touch her, let alone now.

“How did you know…?” Christina finally asks before he can say anything.

“Jolie.”

Ah, of course. The recovery group was her idea, actually. To be honest, Christina had vowed to never go back to another recovery group after she went to the one right after she fled her soulmate.

But here she is. Back again.

She’s not sure who to blame, anymore. The man in front of her, his soulmate…herself.

“Christina.”

“Hmm?”

Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, looking nervous. “Could we maybe…can I give you a ride home?”

Christina doesn’t immediately respond, too stunned as her focus remains on the hand that Taehyung just ruffled his hair with.

Focused on the cut thread, to be more exact.

Sure, she’s seen photos and videos of him with it, even seen him from a distance, but up close…it’s so much more real. So final.

“Christina?”

“Oh. Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”

Taehyung blinks, clearly not expecting it to be so easy. However, he leads her out of the building without another word, opening up the passenger side door with a nervous smile.

Christina settles down in the seat with a blank expression, half wondering if this is even real. However, as Taehyung closes the door and she’s met with just how much everything in here is him. The smell alone is enough to have her inhaling deeply, bombarding her sense with the very thing she’s been trying to run from for months now.

Taehyung hops in the driver’s side, and Christina politely ignores the way his hands shake as he tries to start the car. The silence is heavy as they pull out of the parking lot, and Christina stares out the window as they drive.

In the reflection of the passenger-side window, she can see Taehyung glancing over at her every so often. Finally, after the tenth time, he speaks.

“How have you been? I haven’t seen you in forever, feels like.”

“Yeah, how long has it been?”

Taehyung doesn’t skip a beat. “Namjoon’s birthday party. Although you were leaving right as I was arriving, remember?”

“Oh. Right.”

Again the silence. It’s suffocating, making Christina want to scream.

“So…” she mumbles out, staring straight ahead. “How have you been?”

“Oh, good. Been…good.”

Perhaps it’s the fact that she has nothing left to lose, but Christina finds herself sliding into her teasing persona at his response.

“Wow, so eloquent.”

Taehyung blinks before smirking, easing into the conversation as well. “I’ve always had a way with words, don’t you think?”

“I couldn’t disagree more.”

The sound of his chuckle fills the small space, and it lodges in Christina’s heart. It becomes a struggle to keep her eyes forward, a part of her begging her to just get lost in this moment.

Because what if it’s their last?

And yet…

What if it’s the first?

All too soon, they’re parking in front of her apartment, and Christina offers him a small smile of thanks before opening her door. She yelps in surprise when Taehyung reaches across her torso and closes her door.

“What was that for?” She asks, offended. Turning to Taehyung, she can’t help but feel a little intimidated as he regards her solemnly.

He unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to face her fully, one arm resting on the wheel while the other rests on the console.

He looks so honest, in this moment. Hair a mess, a small stain on his trademark Celine shirt. Christina notices it with a start, recalling the fact that he’s wearing that very shirt in the photo she keep atop her dresser.

It’s still there. After all these months.

“Hey,” Taehyung whispers. Christina’s eyes snap up to his face instead of the stain on his shirt. His tongue wets his lips before he speaks again, continuing to whisper. “I’m happy right now. Are you?”

That red thread whips and twists from the A/C, and Christina takes a moment to look at her own.

“How did you do it?”

Taehyung understands her question, following her line of sight. He sighs softly, recalling the day he and Ae took matters into their own hands and singlehandedly started their own rebellion.

“Some guy in Daegu. Josh, was his name.”

Christina’s head snaps up. “Josh? He’s getting married!”

“O-oh, ok,” Taehyung stammers out, chuckling a little. “Good for him.”

“Sorry.”

“You’re fine. I’m happy for Josh.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

Another pause. This one isn’t as uncomfortable as the previous ones, though.

“Christina? You never answered my question.”

Are you happy right now? Here, with me?

“Yeah, but-”

“No buts.”

Christina groans, leaning back in her seat. “Taehyung, you can’t just drive me home and start going on about happiness and end up with us being together. You know that, right?”

Taehyung chews on his bottom lip with almost religious fervor. “…I know.”

“Maybe I should go.”

“Wait!” Taehyung reaches out again, ready to block Christina’s exit. “I had this whole speech I needed to say to you and- and- quit looking at me like that, otherwise I’m gonna forget it!”

Christina laughs, holding her hands up innocently. “Sorry, sorry! Let’s hear it!”

Taehyung sighs, closing his eyes.

“You’re my choice.”

After a few moments of silence, Christina frowns. “That’s it?”

Taehyung’s eyes fly open, a curl curling the corners of his lips. “No! Hold on, let me explain.” Once he sees Christina waiting patiently, he continues. “You and I…we’ve never been given a real choice before. Our decisions were made up, with our soulmates. But you…you broke away from that. Created your own path. You inspired me, still do inspire me, every day. To make my own path.”

Christina holds her breath, not daring to say anything.

“Any while your circumstances were much worse than mine, and I’m grateful every day that you were able to escape that sorry excuse for a man, I know this is for certain: we’ve forged our own paths, and for the first time, we’ve been given a choice. I choose you. I chose you months ago, Christina.”

Taehyung’s hand wraps around the steering wheel until his knuckles are white. “Please, tell me you choose me, too.”

Christina wonders for the hundredth time if this is all real.

For the first time in her life, is she really able to choose love? If Taehyung’s hopeful gaze is any indication, she must be.

“Is this ok?” She whispers.

“Is what ok, darling?”

The pet name goes straight into her bloodstream, making her feel lightheaded. “Is it ok to get you?”

Taehyung smiles broadly at her question, slowly reaching out and brushing a strand of hair back behind her ear.

“Of course it is. You’ve got me, either way.” He sighs. “As much as I’ve been furious with you over the past eight months-”

“What do you mean, furious?”

“You led me into a trap to meet my soulmate!” Taehyung exclaims, looking at Christina fondly. “And then avoided me for like eight months after that!”

“Ok, at least give me credit for being a good person-”

“Oh, you’re a saint,” Taehyung groans out, finally throwing his door open and rushing around the car to the passenger side. Once he opens that door as well, he crouches down to be eye-level with a wide-eyed Christina. “You’re a certified saint, happy?”

Despite the sarcasm dripping from his tone, Christina senses the real question behind it. Slowly, she reaches out to touch the stain on his shirt, making a blush rise to Taehyung’s cheeks.

“Yes.” She gives him a shaky smile. “Extremely.”

Taehyung’s smile only grows as he takes the hand that rests against his shirt, raising his up to place gentle kisses along the tips of her fingers. Christina’s breath catches at the sight, Taehyung’s dark eyes fluttering closed.

“Let me walk you to your door,” he mumbles.

Christina complies, thrilling in the feel of his hand in hers as they walk to the door. Once there, she chews on the inside of her cheek. “Want to come in?”

Taehyung gasps, and Christina throws a hand over his mouth at his over the top reaction.

“Not like that, you pervert! We just have a lot to talk about still!” Taehyung grabs her wrist, pulling her hand away. “And you just don’t want me to leave yet, right?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Once they head inside, Christina heads straight for the kitchen while Taehyung takes a seat on the stool. Filling up a glass of cool apple cider, Christina passes it to him before leaning back against the counter and drinking in the view.

“You know,” she starts, taking a swig of the sweet drink before continuing. “I’ve had a lot of people sit there. Drink cider, talk about their problems.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, like Jolie. And Ae.”

“Now me.”

“Now you.” Christina sighs, setting her glass down. “You want the truth?”

Taehyung looks intrigued, also setting his glass down. “Always.”

“I’ve been waiting for you to sit there.” She’s surprised when her vision blurs with tears, not expecting to be so emotional about it. “I didn’t think you ever would, though.”

In an instant, Taehyung is on his feet and wrapping her into a tight embrace. As she breathes him in, Christina wonders if this is what Jolie meant when she described how Jimin felt like home.

“I’ll be sitting there until my butt falls off.”

Chest shaking with laughter at his own comment, Christina groans but doesn’t try to move away. Instead she wraps her arms around his middle, holding him even tighter.

“Gross, but thank you.”

Lips pressing a gentle kiss atop her head, Christina can feel Taehyung smile against her hair. “Anything for you, darling.”

main masterlist

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#taehyung x reader #bts x reader #bts soulmate au #taehyung soulmate au #bts angst #taehyung angst #jimin soulmate au #bts fanfiction #Taehyung fanfiction #taehyung x oc

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forever-rogue · 3 years

Text

Step into the Daylight - Part 12

Summary: Crafting, whispered declarations, and a newcomer lead to some interesting revelations.

A/N: Thank you guys for being so, so patient and still being excited for me to update. Taglists are open, and as always feedback is welcome! xx

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: general s2 spoilers, and canon divergence (hehehe)

SERIES MASTERLIST

MANDALORIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“So I’m going to make that,” you glanced at Cal’s glowing green lightsaber with a furtive point of your hand, “from this?”

The small Kyber crystal felt pathetic and pointless in your hand as you looked between it and the lightsaber. It seemed like surely the one couldn’t truly come from the other. How was the dinky little crystal going to power up such an advanced weapon?

“Of course,” Cere offered you a kind smile and a warm hand on your back as she ushered you over to the workbench at the back of the Mantis, her ragtag crew’s ship, “all the materials and items you need to craft your own saber are right there. The most important of it all, the key, is the small crystal in your hands. Have faith in it - and yourself - and you’ll be able to do it.”

“O-on my own?” your eyebrows shot up as she nodded, “how will I know what to do? I’m not dumb...but I don’t see how one equates to the other.”

“You will know,” she insisted, taking a step back and motioning for Cal to join her. Your eyes were wide with worry and concern as you were positive that this was a task you would never be able to complete. Maybe this was all a mad joke, and they were somehow testing you? But then again...surely they couldn’t be. Few things you’d learned about the Jedi and the Force made sense and this was definitely one of them. You were beginning to wonder if anything ever would make sense.

But your instinct, your gut or whatever it was, had gotten you this far. It had kept you, Din, and Grogu safe. Maybe there was something to it after all. Maybe now wasn’t the time to question it.

“Alright,” you nodded in quiet agreement, “I’ll try my best.”

“We will see you when you’re ready,” with that she turned and left, with Cal close on her heels after he gave you a wave of goodbye. Nodding to yourself you decided that you might as well just try and see where it led you.

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself as you put the crystal in the center of the bench, “let’s give this a go then.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was several frustrating hours before you emerged from the Mantis, dirt and oil on your face, but more importantly, a giant grin. You quickly found yourself surrounded by several pairs of curious, prying eyes. The most important of all were inky black and accompanied by a happy little coo.

"How did you fare, young one?" Cere asked you as you reached behind your back and slowly pulled out what looked like a black metallic tube, covered in intricate golden designs.

"You tell me," without a moment of hesitation or pause, you ignited the saber and displayed the brilliant, glowing golden beam of light. Before anyone could say anything you wielded it and displayed the other end, showing that you had crafted a dual ended saber, "ta da!"

"Golden," Cal mused as he came closer and studied the saber, impressed by your ability to create such an impressive thing on your first try, "I've only seen one other person with such a color…"

"Should I have chosen a-a different one?" your brows knitted in confusion as you disengage the saber and clipped it onto your belt loop, "is there a way to change it?"

"No," he shook his head in amusement, "the Kyber chooses us and the color. It's nothing on your part."

"Oh...well, I'll take it as a good thing then," you cast a look over at Din and Grogu who were both watching your every move intently. You felt your cheeks warm up under his gaze, but a smile still graced your features, "golden...what does it mean?"

"Balance," he answered simply, "the balance between light and dark."

"O-oh," you swallowed thickly as you realized just how much it meant it, "wow."

"Wow is right," Cere game over and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, "you've done well. The art of wielding it is another thing. But you will learn, over time. There is no right - or wrong - way to do it. You'll have to find out what feels right to you."

"Thank you," giving her a nod of reverence, an odd feeling washed over you. It was all done now - your journey of finding your crystal and your building of the saber. This is where you parted ways. It was a lonely idea, a scary one at that, but you knew you'd still have Din and Grogu. That was all you really needed - anything else world work out.

Like it always seemed to.

"I believe this is the parting of the ways," she sounded almost disappointed as you inhaled deeply. Although you hadn't known them long, you felt as though there was a deep bond between your small clan and their crew. Like yourself and Grogu, Cal and Cere, and in some ways Merrin, shared a special bond with you. They were probably some of the only people that knew exactly what you were going through; especially the push and pull between light and dark.

“Indeed,” you slowly made your way over to Din, who gave a small nod of acknowledgment as Grogu reached out for you. Gently taking him in your arms, you kissed the top of his fuzzy head before positioning him so he could see everything, just like he pleased, “where will you go?”

“Wherever we’re needed,” Cal seemed as cryptic as his mentor, but you knew that despite trusting you, it was best for their own interests to kept their whereabouts as secret as possible, “I have not doubt that there are plenty of others just like you and I that are out there, and they’re scared and need help. We’re just going to go around and keep finding them, and helping them. So that way they can hone their own powers, just like you.”

“I’m sure they will be more than thankful for your help,” you said as Grogu cooed in agreement, “just like we are. I hope our paths cross again one day, Cal Kestis.”

“As do I,” he held out his hand and you grabbed it, giving it a firm but gentle shake. The energy that flowed between the two of you was enough to prompt a small sound of surprise from your lips; the force really was a strange, but wonderful thing, “until next time.”

“Until next time,” you repeated as you stood back and rejoined Din. A hand went to your side as he led you close to him. And then you realized - “wait! Jele - what about you? Are you going to come with us?”

For the first time since your reappearance, you really noticed the older woman watching you curiously. She offered you a warm smile, much as the others had done before shaking her head lightly, “unfortunately, our time is over, and I’ve found a new calling. I’m going with them, hopefully to use the skills I have remaining for good use. Just like with you. There’s nothing left for me to teach you, young one. Everything else will come to you in time, you will be ready for when it does.”

“Thank you,” tears pricked at the back of your eyes as you nodded in understanding, “for everything.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” she insisted, “everything’s always been within you, everything plays out as it should. Sometimes it just needs a little push in the right direction.”

A playful little grin crossed her features as she glances at you and Din in turn. Your cheeks warmed up at the mere thought of kissing him the previous evening, of finally getting to see him, of the whispered declarations of love, and what it all meant. Clearing your throat, you gazed at your feet awkwardly to hide your warm face, “well, regardless. Thank you. For everything.”

“May the force be with you.”

“And with you.”

The three of you remained there for some time, watching as the others gathered their things and packed up the Mantis to leave. It was strange to watch them leave, it almost felt wrong; they were new friends, fast friends but it felt wrong to see them go so soon. Something told you this wasn’t the last you’d see of them.

“We should go in,” Din finally said after some time, his voice cracking lightly from how long he had been silent. It wasn’t that he had been worried about you while you were crafting your blade like he had been when you were on your quest for the crystal, but he was...nervous. Din knew you were more than capable of handling yourself, but at the same time he couldn’t help but fret over your safety. He loved you, truly, fully, and completely - he knew that now. Since he’d had the privilege of knowing a life with you, he wasn’t sure he could handle one without you.

Shivering in response, it was only mere moments before Din had whipped his cape off from his shoulders and placed it around your own. You turned to him with a thankful smile before shaking your head in amusement, “what about you, my love? Now you’re going to be cold.”

“Not terribly if we move inside and warm up the Crest,” he snorted in amusement before moving in the direction of the ship just behind the snowy horizon, “come on, let’s go before we freeze.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was warm inside, the forced air was blasting and making the whole ship more comfortable. It really was the only way to combat the freezing chill of Illum. You’d showered and changed into something more warm and comfortable, and once you’d returned to the small living space, you’d found that Din had tucked Gorgu back into his small hammock. You watched the small green little bean fondly for a moment before gently stroking his ears and the top of his head.

“Hungry?” you stopped at the sound of the voice that reached your ears. It was familiar and known to you, yes, but there was a part of it that was still more or less unknown. Dropping your hand, you turned and found Din watching you, his brown eyes meeting yours, “I-I made some food.”

“Y-yes,” you nodded, swallowing the lump that had welled up in your throat before walking over to him. Din stood there for a moment as you studied him; but then silently, tentatively, you reached up and cradled his face in your hands. He practically keened into your touch as you traced over his features, before leaning closer to him, the tips of your noses lightly brushing, “is this okay?”

"Yes," his voice was gentle as his warm breath fanned across your face, somehow causing you to lean forward and gently brush your lips against his. Din's hands found purchase on your waist as you breathed him in and familiarized with this - the sheer, wonderful act of intimacy, "may I kiss you?"

"Please," you barely whispered the word before he closed the gap and gently pressed his lips against yours. His touch and taste were intoxicating, despite being so simple and pure. It wasn't much, a few mere seconds passed as you both tested the waters to see how it would go. Not that there was any lingering doubt in your mind that you loved him, but it was all still so new and threatened to send you into an overwhelmed headrush all at once.

There was something so saccharine and sacred about kissing him, about knowing he was yours and you were his, that was too much and not enough at once. Your eyes closed as you rested your forehead against his, lips pulling into a small smile.

"What are you thinking?" you asked softly when you found inquisitive brown eyes searching your face for...something.

"I like this," his cheeks flushed slightly as his fingers danced around your waist, "I've never done this before, let someone see me like this, but I just…"

"Feel like this is right?" you finished as he nodded softly, "I don't know what it is either, Din, but I feel it too. I like to think that...there's a reason you found me and saved me that day. I'm glad you did."

"Even though you tried to fight me off?"

"Even though I tried to fight you off!" you pulled back and laughed, that wonderful sound that made Din's insides flutter happily, "I thought for sure you were going to turn me in. I...couldn't trust you or anyone then."

"And now?"

"I trust you with my life," you promised, "you are my home. You and Grogu."

“I’ve never…” Din paused for a long moment before closing his eyes and gently stealing another kiss from you, lingering against your lips. You were so close, but not close enough; part of you wanted to swallow him whole and keep him as yours forever, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I’ve never loved anyone. Not before…”

“Him?” your voice was soft as you pulled back and cast a fond glance at the sleeping child. Din followed your gaze before training it right back onto you, “I can understand that. I love him too. Have you never...loved another?”

“No,” he admitted, almost shy as he gnawed on his bottom lip, “I’ve had lovers, here and there, but nothing like this. Nothing to where…”

“No one has seen your face,” you concluded as he nodded. Running a hand through his curls, you scratched lightly at his scalp as he choked back a moan at the tender touch, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“Letting me love you,” pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, you couldn’t help but pull him close, “for letting me see you as you are.”

“You have always seen me,” he acknowledged, “just as I am.”

“As you have me,” you grinned at him, “I haven’t either...I’ve never loved anyone before.”

“Never?” he seemed surprised as you nodded at his surprised expression, “I thought...you’re...everything.”

“Not to most people,” you reminded him, “I never had the opportunity or the luxury to allow myself to relax or be...human. No one, not since I was just a small child, has ever loved me or cared so much about me before. Now I have a family, a real family. I must have done something right in some life to find you, Din.”

Unable to find the right words, Din’s hand found your face this time as he pulled you into him and just held you, watching you like you were the reason for every single glittering star in the sky, “Jeele told me that souls that are bound together will always find each other, no matter the time or distance or how hard it is. I’m glad ours found each other.”

“Din…”

“I love you,” he blurted out as you left a warm rush wash all over you. There was something about how he said - so sweet and gentle that left you breathless and in a dreamlike state. Part of you was convinced that none of this was real, surely you couldn’t be deserving of this much love or delicate intimacy. But the touch and feel of his skin on yours, the ecstasy of his kiss was enough to remind you that this was all real. He really did love you.

“I love you,” it was a promise, a tender declaration that set his soul at ease, knowing that you felt the same way about him. How, no matter how crazy or convoluted it seemed, your souls were bonded and had managed to find each other in this lifetime. Brushing your fingers over his patchy scruff, you grinned, but were quickly cut off from saying anything else by rapturous growl of your stomach, “oh.”

“I knew you were hungry,” he chuckled warmly, and Maker, you could easily get used to a lifetime of this, “come on, my little Jedi, the food’s almost ready.”

“Din-” you held onto his hand to stop him from walking away, “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it, Mesh’la?”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” you tried your best not to butcher his language too much. Judging by the incredulous look on his face, he didn’t mind a bit, “I-I told you I had time to study a lot...my Mando’a is far from good, and you said it to me last night. I hope it’s not too horrible.”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” he repeated back to you slowly, “you’ve got it down perfectly.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You’re thinking much too loudly,” you mouthed at him between bites of bread. Din’s eyebrow raised in amusement as he looked and waited for you to repeat yourself. Stuffing the bite down, you offered up a sheepish smile, “what’s on your mind, Din?”

“I was just thinking about...Tython,” he admitted, “I know we should go, we have to go, but I’m...I don’t know if I can part with him. Not yet.”

“You don’t…” you set your fork down and let out a heavy sigh. You knew, you both knew exactly what it meant. A part of you still held onto hope that it wouldn’t come to that. You didn't know a life without your small green bean anymore, and honestly, you weren’t sure if you could face a life without him, “nothing is set in stone, Din. Things could always...change. And if not...you will have fulfilled the duty you were tasked with.”

“It must be selfish of me to want to keep him,” he trained his gaze away from you, but you could see that his eyes were glistening with some tears, “he’s not just some thing. He’s….”

“Family,” you finished, “aliit.”

“Yes,” he agreed, gently resting his hand on top of yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, “just like you.”

“Whatever happens, Din,” you whispered, “this won’t be the last time you see him. I promise you that. You are his father - nothing is going to change that. He knows that, and so do you.”

“What do you think will happen when we go?” he opened and closed his mouth a few times as he blinked back tears.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, “I don’t know if there is a way to know. I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see. I do promise you one thing though.”

“What’s that?”

“I love you - and I will always love you,” you took his hand and brought it to your lips before pressing a kiss to his palm. “And so will he. I promise you that.”

“I love you both too,” he said after a few moments of peaceful silence, “we should get some rest...we’ll be on Tython soon enough anI want to make sure we’re rested and prepared for...anything.”

“Yes,” you concurred, “you’re right, of course. Come one then, my love, we’ll rest for now.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“So...this is it?” Din sounded skeptical as he looked around the rocky ruins, with Grogu clutched tightly in his arms. You couldn’t help but snort at him in amusement; Grogu seemed to be enjoying himself anyway, “is it...does this look Jedi to you?”

He gently set Grogu down and he toddled over to the small stone pillar in the middle of the ruins. The little one cooed excitedly as he looked between the two of you; Din, studious and bewildered as he looked around, and you, doubled over as you laughed and tried to catch your breath.

“How does something look Jedi?” you finally choked out as you tried to stop your giggles, “it doesn’t have to look Jedi. It’s about the energy.”

“Okay...well, does it feel Jedi?” he was at your side, gently nudging your ribs as you laughed at him again, “you’re being cruel!”

“I’m sorry,” you were but it was still amusing nonetheless, “it’s just...the energies. Can you feel them? Can you feel the force?”

“I don’t feel anything,” he shrugged lightly, “should I be?”

“I think so...Cal was right. The energies here are very strong,” you closed your eyes for a moment as Din huffed, “it’s alright...Jeele says everyone’s in tune with the force to a certain extent, and that it can be strengthened through practice. I-I’ll teach you, my love. That way you can tell if something looks Jedi.”

“Very funny,” he sighed, his signature trademark sigh as you took his hand and pointed towards Grogu. He was surrounded by a small swarm of bright blue butterflies, giggling as he tried to chase after them, “I didn’t know it was possible to have so much love in your heart for someone else. But now I know...because of the two of you.”

“Come on,” you took his hand in yours, “let’s look around to see if we can find anything. Grogu - you stay here, we’ll be right back.”

You hesitated for a moment before deciding it was okay, and trailed alongside Din. It wasn’t a huge planet, but it was beautiful in its own way, with animals running around. No humans or other creatures seemed to inhabit the place. It was quiet here...peaceful even.

“I like this,” you said to Din as you walked through a small field of wildflowers, “it’s quiet and calm and you can just...be. I wouldn’t mind living someplace like this one day.”

“Without any intelligent life nearby and completely cut off from everything else?” he teased as you groaned at him.

"No, shiny dummy," you plopped down into the tall, soft grass. You let out a long sigh and put your hands behind your behind, closing your eyes, "somewhere nice and quiet and with just us. Peaceful. What do you think, Din? Ever thought about the future…?"

With me?

After a few beats of silence, you heard the grass next to you crunch softly before you felt his body lie next to yours. His hand reached out and sought yours; you wasted no time in shifting your arm and letting him take your hand. He laced your fingers together before resting them on his chest.

"Yes," he whispered quietly, "I've thought about it a lot."

"Oh."

"I never thought I would ever want to settle down and not...do what I do," he confessed as his thumb stroked the back of your hand, "I never thought there would be more than what I had. But then I found Grogu and...you. I came to realize that I did want more, I want more than what I had."

"A future…"

"With him and you," you were positive that you could hear him smile at his confession. This was easy and hard at the same time - neither of you had ever imagined there would be this, "I don't want this life, the constant fighting and fleeing anymore. I want...a home, a real home."

"Me too," it was a smitten, gentle declaration, "I still want to help people somehow too."

"We will," he promised, "we'll have it all, Mesh'la."

Unable to stop yourself, you rolled onto your side and on top of him. A small grunt of surprise escaped his lips as his arms went to your waist and your hands went to his helmet.

"May I?" it was a gentle request, but his hands joined yours and the helmet was pushed up to expose his lips, and you wasted no time in kissing him.

You were loath to break away from him, but you were soon left breathless and flushed, about to say something when a loud, booming sound met your ears. The two of you broke away and looked to the ruins where you'd left Grogu. At the giant beam of bright blue light emitting from the center of it, you gasped loudly.

Scrambling to your feet, you held your hand out to help him up, before the two of you ran over to see what the commotion was.

"Kid!"

"Grogu!"

When you reached the ruins, you found nothing around except for Grogu sitting and meditating in the center.

"What's happening?" Din asked in confusion as you realized what was happening.

"Its okay," you put a hand on his arm, "he's reaching out. To see if any other Jedi are listening. There's nothing we can do...we just...wait."

"Okay," he sighed lightly as he let you take his hand and the two of you sat down. It was better than pacing around and worrying; at least this way you could keep an eye on him.

»»————-　♡　————-««

After a while, there was suddenly silence. And after the loud noise of the beam, it was almost deafening. Grogu waddled over to the two of you, smiling as he reached for Din. Ever the doting father, he easily scooped him up and clutched him to his chest.

"Did you do it, buddy?" he asked quietly as Grogu cooed happily. Reaching over and you stroked his ears, smiling at the small green bean.

"He called out for someone," you confirmed, "we just have to wait now."

"How long?"

"As long as it takes," you leaned back against him and the three of you heaved a collective sigh, "I guess we can relax."

Din nodded in agreement as you suddenly realized just how tired you were. Despite your best efforts, your eyes started to close and before you could fight it, you were dozing off. Din, however, was wide awake and kept his keen eyes open and sweeping the horizon as you and Grogu snoozed.

Even though he thought he was doing a thorough job, the Mandalorian missed one big thing. He almost jumped when a long, thin shadow loomed over him. In his panic, his hand went to the blaster at his side and he prepared to draw it.

"There's no need for that," it was a man's voice that reached his ears as Din looked up, "if I wanted to hurt you, you’d already be dead.”

"Who are you? Are you...the Jedi?"

"I’m Ezra. Ezra Bridger."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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#din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #the Mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #star wars #step into the daylight series

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matryosika · 3 years

Text

shoot me, chapter VI

pairing — changbin x reader

rating — 18+

genre of the overall series — smut, angst, fluff if you squint

prologue chapter I chapter II chapter III chapter IV chapter V chapter VI

word count for this chapter — 4.1 k

warnings — mentions of alcohol and emotional abuse

note — this chapter has no smut in it. still, the love-story gets completely developed here. next chapters will be filled with smut and angst so stay tuned! i haven't read this chapter because i wanted to upload it as soon as possible, so it may contain grammar mistakes. i will check it later since i have to go out with my family to have dinner! <3 hope you enjoy

taglist:@cozyblues @ahgasearmyfan @binnie-m00n @minaamhh @pinkishwen @spilledtee

[changbin's pov]

"so?" you asked him, modeling one of the dresses that you had previously selected from the expensive clothing shop "what do you think?"

she looks like a goddess.

"good" changbin limited to reply. "is that the last one?"

"c'mon you are not helping at all" you grunted, turning around slightly on the mirror to see the full silhouette of the dress "this might be the one, don't you think?"

i think so. i think you look perfect in all the things you have tried on, actually.

"it's alright" the dark-haired man reply "just take that one and let's get this over with"

"jesus, changbin" you whined "you are such a pain in the ass. if you were in a bad mood then you shouldn't have accepted to drive me here so i can buy a dress for the wedding"

you had been in korea for a month and 2 weeks now, your relationship with changbin growing unconciously intimate as you often engage in sexual encounters with him. you wouldn't say the both of you were close, but each day that passed by you could feel how you learned more about him just like he learned more about you too. you wouldn't consider him a good friend, since hostility made a presence every now and then between the both of you, but you had learned to spend time with him without feeling the need to put plugs into your ears and a blindfold to stop acknowledging his existence.

"if you needed help picking a dress" changbin interrupted, standing up from the seat he had been occupying for the last 45 minutes "you should've asked hyejin or ryujin to come and help you out, not me"

"hyejin is busy" you were quick to respond "ryujin had work today and you were the only other person i know that owns a car"

"cabs exist"

"yeah well" you made a pause, swallowing hard "i don't like cabs"

"you could've asked arthur to lend you his private driver" changbin tilted his head slightly.

"i get uncomfortable with strangers" you answered after a few seconds of being completely silent, changbin's gaze making you incredibly nervous.

"really?" he inquired, one of his hands traveling all the way to the pocket of his jacket as he pulled his wallet out. "why won't you just admit that you wanted to spend time with me?"

"fuck no" a grimace of disgust was quick to appear on your face "don't get confused. i would rather be dead than to spend more time with you than i already have to"

"yet you are still here" he teased "maybe i'm not as unbearable as your mind is trying to convince you i truly am"

with lazy steps he took the bunch of dresses that were piled up on the chair next to him, putting them all over his shoulder as he walked to the counter. "what are you doing?" you asked, still wearing the last dress you tried on.

"you are indecisive and i am starving" he said without even looking at you "i don't need to spend another 45 minutes here looking at how much you struggle to pick between 5 dresses, just have them all and pick one when you are alone"

you looked at him in desbelief "do you have any idea of how much just one of them cost? are you stupid?" you almost yelled in astonishment, looking at the figure of changbin slightly turning around to face you.

"i am not stupid" changbin reply "like i said, i am just hungry"

and currently thinking about how beautiful you are looking right now with that look of amazement on your pretty face. if i could, i would buy you the entire world just for you to destroy.

[y/n's pov]

"i will pay every single one of those dresses back before i leave" you mumbled, eating your food as if you had been starving for days "i had money, i didn't need you to come and rescue me as if i was some sort of damsel in distress"

"you were in distress though" he added, taking a sip of the drink he ordered "you took almost 30 minutes just to pick one dress to try on, you are really undecisive"

"yeah well, it's not like i had anywhere else to be" you replied.

"isn't arthur going to have a small gathering at his house today?" changbin inquired "like a pre-celebration of the wedding or something?"

you shrugged your shoulders "i don't know and i don't care. i am just here for the wedding and then i will be finally free"

you kept on eating your plate of food, confused as to why changbin's gaze stayed fix on you. "what, do i have something on my f-?"

"are you leaving right after the wedding?" he asked in a very hostile way, almost as if he had completely forgot that you were not going to stay forever.

"not right after but that's the main reason i came here, yeah" you replied, having a mixture of feelings inside your guts.

you couldn't deny the fact that you missed tsukuba, but living there meant to be trapped in the university dorms 24/7 just studying. but still, the lifestyle you have had for the past time was absolutely something you could get use to it: ryujin, hyejin, going out on the weekends, being free from school, changbin...

changbin?

"i still don't know the exact date though" you added "school doesn't start for me in another months so..."

"how is your life?" he asked, earning a weird look from you as you couldn't quite understand his question "in Japan, i mean"

you sighed. you had thought that living in japan was really good and you felt utterly comfortable living there until you arrived to korea and discovered a whole new life style that you had already learned to love. not only that, but leaving everything here was going to get you a bit nostalgic in the future. "it is great, better than people say it is honestly" you responded as he nodded "i live at the university dorms so life is pretty much everything but rushed. i spend my days at the library studying, i sometimes work as a shadow teacher for like 4 or 5 kids and on weekends i go and visit my mom and her partner"

"your mom got married after divorcing arthur?" changbin followed, just in time as he finished his dish of food.

"uh, it's complicated" you gave him a smile "she lives with someone and she is very happy"

"and are you?"

you were about to answer the question when you felt a pinch on your heart. a month ago you would have replied "yes" without a doubt. you thought you were happy living in japan, you thought you were happy when you visited thea, your mother, and reiko, her girlfriend. you thought you were happy when reiko made you her special coffee and you thought you were happy when they ocasionally visited you on winter nights at your dorm. you thought you were happy when you worked with children and spent time with them. you thought you were happy when you rode your bike from school to work and you thought you were happy when ryejin visited you and your mom on the holidays.

however, you had learned a new definition of happiness here.

"are you?" you fired back.

changbin slightly tilted his head as he laid completely back on his seat "i could be"

"what is exactly stopping you from being happy?" you asked him, intruiged.

"even if i explained it to you" he mumbled "i don't think you will be able to understand it"

"ah, there you are again" you scoffed, slightly rolling your eyes "your god complex has not show all day. i guess you missed it."

"c'mon" he grunted, raising his hand at one of the waiters at the restaurant "let's go somewhere else"

"where exactly?" you laughed "to your place? your car? a motel? jesus changbin, you can't really go a day without fucking, can you?"

"that's not actually what i had in mind" he replied, taking out his credit card as he saw the waiter approaching the table "but i mean if you want to fuck i won't say no"

"you had something in mind?" you asked, faking excitment "for me? you planned something for me?"

"if you want i can drop you at arthur's place right now so he can force you to have dinner with him and his bride. it's up to you"

you weren't really feeling like spending "quality time" with your father, and you also knew that hyejin was probably not going to attent the dinner, so there was no point of you being there. but at the same time, the thought of spending time with changbin doing non-sexual activities was something that it always made you nervous for an unknown reason, and you were feeling particularly nervous today.

"whatever"

the evening went on peacefully and that alone was unreal. he drove you to the center of seoul and suggested to take a walk around the most popular avenues because "the city looked better at night", something you have always believed too.

changbin was attractive and, even though your personalities crashed every damn time, you couldn't deny the fact that there were some sort of intimate bond going on between the both of you since that very first night at the bar. still, you wouldn't accept it. you wouldn't accept that the one person you disliked the most was starting to change your mind.

and you couldn't get yourself to trust him either. you couldn't trust any men, for that matter.

"have you thought about which dress you are going to wear tomorrow?" he asked so casually, his hands inside the pockets of his jacket as his gaze diverted from building to building.

"no" you replied, trying to get back at the trail of thoughts you had been threading since you left the restaurant with him. "have you?"

"have i thought about the dress i am going to wear tomorrow?" he laughed "i don't know, it will depend on which one you lend me"

"i got distracted" you admitted "but i will try on all the dresses tomorrow morning and i will give you the rest of them so you can return them to the store"

"i won't do that" he clicked his tongue "i bought them for you"

your heart skipped a beat after hearing those words and it was everything but pleasent.

"i don't want them"

"you can't reject a gift" he mumbled "that's the whole point of a gift"

"i will sell them on the internet" you threatened.

"do it, at the end of the day they are yours" he gave you a side look while smirking "but i wouldn't sell them if i were you. you look good in them"

"oh so you want to give opinions about the dresses now, huh?" you asked, mildly annoyed "you could've help me back at the store but you chose to be grumpy"

"at least i am helping you now"

"you are unbearable" you whispered.

a bright smile was quick to appear on his face. a genuine smile, as if he was enjoying the conversation. not only the conversation but the whole moment: you and him, walking around the city and talking about something so casual and trivial like which clothes you were going to wear tomorrow or which dress he liked best on you.

and for a moment it felt nice.

you felt safe.

"the red one was pretty" he added. you looked at him confused, once again lost in your trail of thoughts. "the red dress, the one that you tried on last"

"good" you responded "i'll make sure not to wear that one"

"you hate me that much?" he teased while a faint chuckle left his lips.

"oh changbin, you have no idea" deep down knowing it wasn't more than a vile lie.

you looked in the mirror one last time before you heard hyejin calling your name once again "y/n, how long will you take? i need to stop by the bakery to pick up the wedding cake"

"i'll be out in a minute" you replied, noticing how your hands got sweatier by the second.

you were quite nervous, but couldn't really understand why. maybe the sole thought of your father having his "happy ending" made you jealous because you knew that he did not deserve that at all; he didn't deserve the love he had.

the emotional abuse your mother and you suffered throughout your childhood and adolescence was not something that could be fixed in a month or two and you were certain about it. no matter how happy your father was, you couldn't help but to feel jealous about how he never had to suffer like you and your mother did.

and even though you got over your negative feelings towards him, the scars and aftermath of an abusive household still caught up on you: the mistrust, the negativity, the hostility and the lack of commitment were things you had to deal with on a daily basis.

of course he was the one to blame. but you were an adult now, and you were supposed to deal with all those issues by yourself. no one was going to fix them for you.

"jesus y/n, we are running late" hyejin busted the door open "are you ready now?"

"yes" you were quick to respond, grabbing the purse on your bed and trying to quickly divert from your sister's gaze.

"wait" she mumbled, gripping both of your shoulder as you intended to the leave the room "why are you tearing up?"

"i am not" you replied "i yawned"

she didn't look convinced, but still decided not to push any further "i'll meet you in the car, i just have to grab a few things"

you nodded and made your way through the hallway. because of how rushed she was, you didn't have a chance to tell hyejin how gorgeous she looked. she was wearing a golden shiny dress that embraced her body just fine and carrying a maching clutch with it. she was really pretty, maybe the prettiest woman you had ever seen, and not only that but she was also very smart. any guy would be head over heels for her, but she still decided not to engage in a "silly love story" as she called them because "it is a waste of her precious time, and time is money"

you wished you had the same mentality as she did, but you grew up getting educated on how love was portrayed in books, movies and television. it was ironic how you were the first person on earth to deny that love actually existed, but you were still a hopeless romantic after all.

[changbin's pov]

"changbin, are you too far from the church?" haeun, his mother, asked desperately as changbin picked up the phone.

"i'm right outside" he grunted "i told you i was not going to be late"

"we are sitting on the second bench at the left of the altar" the old woman added "hurry up"

changbin hung up the phone and cursed under his breath. the weather today was maybe too nice for his own liking and his clothes were a bit too uncomfortable to be wearing them under the sun.

as quickly as he could, he closed the door of his car and started walking towards the entrance, making sure that the ceremony hadn't started just yet so he wouldn't make a scene.

"did you bring the gift?" jang-yeop inquired as he sat down next to him and changbin nodded "did you also bring your mother the pair of shoes?"

"yes" he responded "how long is this going to take?"

"40-45 minutes?" his father replied "i have no idea, what time is it?"

"7:02 p.m." haeun was quick to answer "now, the both of you shut up"

right after she mumbled those words, music started to sound on the church. changbin, being in a rush to get to his seat before the ceremony started, didn't notice that arthur was already standing up next to the altar and waiting for his soon-to-be wife. changbin's gaze was fixed on arthur, then it diverted into the bride walking down the aisle and then returned to arthur once again. he never thought about marriage or building a family. hell, he never thought about having a romantic relationship that would last longer than a few months actually. but as he grew older, and as he experienced new stuff, he wasn't sure if he still had the same mentality he used to have last year.

to changbin, arthur seemed genuinely happy. his half-lidded eyes along with that bright smile he was wearing indicated that the man was living one of the happiest days of his life. and as changbin witnessed that romantic scene, the question that popped up in the conversation he had with you last night grabbed his attention once again.

what exactly is stopping me from being happy?

and before he could respond himself with words, his eyes had already found the answer: standing on the bench at the right of the altar and wearing that promising dark red dress that could drive any man insane, the woman he never dreamed of looking just as beautiful as the very first day he met her.

not being able to have her completely.

[y/n's pov]

after the ceremony, a big party was held at a very elegant event hall located in one of the tallest buildings of seoul. you were not particularly excited about having to see arthur's side of the family, but you still managed to keep yourself together the whole time.

"you are wearing the red dress" a sudden voice whispered into your ear as you were counting the tables that were still missing their dinner plates, an order given by hyejin. you slightly turned around to meet changbin's breath dancing on your neck and nape, goosebumps filling every single inch of your skin due to the proximity.

"congratulations" you sighed "your vision is crystal clear"

"i have been watching you since the ceremony" changbin added "i can't help but think about how pretty you are going to look when you are taking that dress off for me"

a spark of electricity traveled around your whole body and directly into your core. you immediatly looked around and notice a few people who worked for arthur's company sitting not that far away from the both of us "do you really want to do this here?" you asked "aren't you scared of being caught by any of arthur's friends?"

"are you concerned about that now?" he chuckled "that didn't seem to bother you at the company's elevator"

"c'mon" you whispered, your back slightly pressing against his chest "i have to help hyejin with some stuff"

changbin slightly gripped your hand and guided you to the dancefloor that was crowded with couples dancing around "i am sure that she can handle all of this by herself"

before you could protest, you took out your phone and sent her a message with the information she asked for. you had no idea what changbin was up to, but you still decided to follow him.

changbin positioned his hands on your waist as he gracefully dragged you across the dancefloor, looking for a spot in the middle of the crowd so it would be easier for the two of you to get lost.

"you are spending the night at my place" he mumbled over the slow songs that were now playing. it wasn't a question nor a petition, it was an order.

"yeah right" you chuckled "if you are too desperate to fuck we can do that, but i am not fond of sleepovers"

the thought of you spending the night with him was terrifying, but you would've been lying if you said that you hadn't think about what it would be like to wake up next to his him.

"i wasn't asking" he responded. "tell me when you are ready to leave".

with a swift movement, your whole body was pressed against his, his hands resting on your lowerback as you both swinged from side to side, following the rythm of the song. this was a whole new side of him that you didn't know it existed, and you couldn't deny that you were loving every second of it.

"who thaught you how to dance, huh?" you asked, your gaze fixed on his eyes that looked even brighter because of all the lights adorning the hall.

"there is so much about me that you don't know" he replied.

"oh i know everything there is to know about you, changbin" you scoffed "but let's see if you can keep surprising me"

it wasn't even midnight but people were already starting to get completely intoxicated with alcohol. arthur had spent the night dancing with ara and, after she was done being the unofficial wedding planner, hyejin ended up getting wasted with the small group of friends she invited to the wedding. you, on the other hand, spent the night dancing with changbin and eating your dinner with him.

it was not unusual to see the both of you together since you spent too much time at the company, but tonight it was sort of different. the looks he gave you, the way you two danced for hours on end, the way he was treating you... it felt different, a little bit more personal and intimate. his parents probably noticed this too, since they made a lof of comments about "how happy they were about us being really good friends". if only they knew.

"i think i am ready" you said to changbin after telling hyejin that you were going to spend the night somewhere else. she nodded her head and agreed to say, if asked, that "you were at ryujin's" even when she wasn't invited to the wedding in the first place. you just smiled at her and nodded, not leaving without telling one of her sober friends to look out for her.

"don't worry" the pretty pale girl mumbled "she will stay at my house tonight"

you glanced over to arthur and ara who were still having the greatest time of their lives on the dancefloor, and proceeded to walk away from the party with changbin. "you parents will stay here?"

"yeah, they will leave in an hour or so" changbin replied "i told them that you wanted to go home and that i was going to drive you"

"perks of living alone i guess" you joked.

the walk through the empty corridors of the building felt eerie as the loud sound of the music were still ringing in your ears. even though you were walking on your own, you could still feel changbin's ablazing touch on your body and that only provoked your heartbeat to go even faster.

as you waited for the elevator to open their doors, changbin's lips unexpectedly crashed against yours. it wasn't a passionate kiss, and it wasn't rushed either. it was just a kiss, an innocent kiss, a kiss you give to your significant other as a demostration of how much you love them. his soft lips dragged against yours as his teeth bite softly your bottom lip, earning a small whine from you. his hands, that were now located into your waist, guided you to the insides of the elevator once the doors were opened.

"you look so beautiful tonight" he whispered interrupting, his breathing getting faster each second that passed by "i can't get you out of my head"

his lips left yours to meet the sensitive spots on your neck, peppering soft kisses all over the surface. your gaze found the reflection of the scene in the mirror of the elevator, looking at how changbin was tasting every inch of your skin with his eyes closed, his rushed hands traveling all the way from your waist to your lower back trying to memorize every single trace of your body.

"i don't want to hurt you tonight" he continued "no roughness, no pain, no petnames. i want to make you completely mine, in the most pure way"

and for the night, you agreed to let your feelings out and let go.

no fear and no mistrust, you were ready to face the overwhelming feelings that had been building up inside you since the day you met him.

even if you could potentially regret it later...

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #changbin x reader #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz oneshots #stray kids oneshots #seo changbin smut #kpop smut

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kingofkingdom-archive · 3 years

Text

So Much Like Stars - Part ONE

Pairing: Boba Fett x Fem!Reader

Part ONE (read part two here!)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You’ve known nothing but snow and cold wind your whole life. When a mysterious hunter arrives at your village, you find yourself drawn to him.

Warnings: Explicit sex, p-in-v sex, vaginal fingering, breathplay, power dynamics/power play, royalty kink (?), dom/sub dynamics, naked female clothed male, come marking, unprotected sex, mentions of death (no character death)

Word count: 8.2k+

A/N: This fic is entirely self-indulgent. No one asked for it, but here it is. Boba Fett fucks and we all know it. Or maybe you disagree, in which case you’re wrong. Anyway, enjoy! As usual, there’s no use of Y/N here and please heed the warnings before reading.

Across the windswept, snowy plain, you watch as the ship approaches its landing. It slows, rotates, and then lands face-up on the flat expanse. It’s maybe a kilometer and a half away from the outlook you’re perched on; your binocs are old, no longer reading distance, so the best you can do is guess. The wind blows the snow towards the east, blurring the landscape into obscurity for anyone without a trained eye.

Your cloak, woven from the heavy fur of the Kintur that roam your planet, keeps the driving wind from seeping into your bones. Every inch of your skin is covered, from your leather boots and thick leggings to your goggles and well-worn face mask. You carry a pack, as you always do, to which are strapped your net-shoes that allow you to traverse over massive snowdrifts. At your hip is an old Republic-issue blaster and at your side is your staff, which often acts more as a tool to clear paths and knock snow from tree boughs than anything else.

This planet is nearly uninhabited save for the village you were born in. Seeing a ship is rare, and it’s even rarer to see one that’s unaffiliated with a galactic government. You take note of its location and strain to see if you can spot the pilot as he emerges, but you have no such luck.

You sigh, the wind whistling in your ears, the drifts of snow shifting and growing around you. Father will want you back soon. The newcomer is undoubtedly going to head towards the village, and you’ll need to be there when he arrives. You stow your binocs away in your pack and unstrap your net-shoes, attaching them quickly to your boots.

The trek back is one you’ve managed countless times before - that doesn’t make it any less dangerous, but the sheer cliff faces and howling, punishing winds are not strangers to you.

Your village is small by the standards of other planets in the galaxy, from what you’ve heard (the Elders’ stories of Coruscant never fail to amaze you), but in your eyes it’s vibrant and bustling despite the harsh climate. There’s almost always a tavern with its lights on and music flowing out, a friendly face and warm hearth never far.

It’s located in a secluded valley between towering mountains, out of sight of the vast plains from which the mountains seem to erupt without warning. There are no foothills; only flat land interrupted by harsh terrain. It’s very easy to find death in the mountains, but they have sustained your people for generations. Hunting is your main source of food, whether it be the Kintur that also provide their hide or the massive snow-bison whose fat and bones keep your diets regulated. In the warm season water flows endlessly - the streams that run from the mountain peaks are known to have healing properties, and often they seem to glow with a supernatural shimmer. There is a small mine some distance from the village where many men work, and though the job is a dangerous one, the mountains never run out of the ores you need.

Your people’s existence is not especially complex, but they are tougher than most. The landscape requires it.

You arrive back at the stone walls surrounding your village and greet the gatekeeper, a man who recently inherited the job from his father.

“Hello, Isrwill.” You plant your staff next to you and lean on it, taking your weight off of your feet. “Have you heard anything of the visitor?”

The man nods. He’s about a decade older than you, but underneath the goggles and mask his face is youthful, eyes kind and always merry. “Savakya returned not long ago. She says he will make it here within the hour.”

“Did she say anything of his appearance?”

“Only that he wears armor, and a helmet. She could not make out any features, other than that he’s shaped like a man.” Isrwill leans back against the wall.

“Ah,” you reply. “Well-dressed for the weather, then.”

He shrugs. “Yes, but also well-dressed for battle.”

You can hear the concern in his voice. The question is one you’re sure your whole community is asking: what has brought this foreigner here?

“Thank you,” you tell him, and he nods while pushing the gate open.

Once inside the walls, you remove your net-shoes as well as your goggles and immediately head toward the building where you know they’ll bring the stranger. Your father will already be there, conversing with the Elders and with the Committee to prepare for whatever news or needs this foreigner might have. There are protocols in place for such an event, but they haven’t been used in your lifetime. As you walk to the meeting-house, you try and recall the words you studied so long ago, when your father taught you your people’s laws and customs.

The meeting-house is constructed of solid, ancient wood, imported from a forest planet and stark against the gray stone that most of the village’s homes are built from. Inside there is a massive hearth cut from a single stone, the fire inside it already raging. In the center of the main room there is a curved table; on one side sit the Elders, on the other, the Committee. At the head sits your father, next to your empty seat.

“You made it safely, my child,” he greets you when you arrive, a swirl of snowflakes following you in. Smiling, you pull down your face mask.

“I always do, father.”

He smiles from his place at the table, giving you a look. “That does not mean I do not worry.”

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you lean over to kiss him on the cheek. The other people at the table chat amongst themselves, though you can feel the undercurrent of unease at the visitor’s imminent arrival.

You walk around to take your place, setting your pack, staff, and outer layers near the hearth to dry. You are left in a long-sleeved, high-neck shirt and tunic over your leggings, your hair done up in its usual braids. Usually you would go home and change into something more suitable for Committee business, but there was no time.

You turn to your father, who sits next to you with all the grace and poise befitting a benevolent leader.

“Isrwill told me the stranger is arriving soon. Do we know any more?”

He nods, though he doesn’t look entirely pleased. “Yes. From what Savakya described, it seems he’s a Mandalorian.”

The name isn’t familiar to you. “Is that a race?”

“No.” Your father leans back in his chair. His arched brows bely a concern that is rare to see on him. He strokes his white beard, staring off into space. “The Mandalorians are more of a culture, a people. I’ve only ever heard stories of them. They say they are fierce warriors, and that many of them are bounty hunters by trade.”

That’s odd. You frown, confused. “Bounty hunters? Why wo-”

You are interrupted by three sharp knocks on the doors. Beside you, your father calls out “enter! ”, and the doors swing open.

Two village men, two of the strongest of your people, flank a man clad in armor. His helmet has a T-shaped visor with a short antenna, and on his back is a rifle. You take note of the blasters strapped to his hips as well as something that could be a weapon at his knee.

Isrwill was right. Well-dressed for battle.

You sit up straight and keep your eyes trained on the Mandalorian. Though you are a member of the Committee, you are also well-versed in how to use a blaster, perhaps the best trained of any at the table. You are also a protector of your fellow Committee members, the Elders, and most importantly, your father.

“What business brings you to our planet, Mandalorian?” Your father’s voice is stern, strong in a way you hope to emulate when you inevitably assume his role.

“I am in search of a bounty, your excellency.”

The hunter’s voice is deep and slightly muffled through the helmet’s vocoder. He sounds weathered and rough, though you imagine that’s life as a man who fights and kills for a living.

“Sir will suit me just fine,” your father tells him, a hint of a smirk in his voice. “As for your bounty, it is highly improbable that any individual has survived outside of our village longer than a day. There is no stranger here but you.”

The Mandalorian sighs, looking down at the floor and then back up again. “I’m afraid I disagree, sir. The tracker isn’t wrong. He must be hiding somewhere in the mountains.”

Your father shakes his head. “Those mountains are impossible to pass without a guide. If he was there, surely he is dead by now.”

Though you can’t see his face, the hunter’s helmet is surprisingly expressive. He looks at your father for a long moment, and then glances around at the other people at the table. His gaze finally lands on you.

You set your jaw and stare back, unintimidated. A man with guns does not scare you, no matter how he tries.

“Alright,” he says, but you suspect he is not satisfied with this information. “Might I at least inquire about some lodging for the night?”

Later that evening, you find yourself in your favorite tavern, sitting in your usual booth, watching the townsfolk mingle and chat. Your drink of choice is a fermented ale that is produced in the warm season and aged for consumption outside of those short couple of months.

No one pays you any mind unless they’re a close friend or they have news. They know to leave you alone, to let you sit with yourself as you prefer to do.

You’re watching a young couple you grew up with dance to the music when the tavern’s door swings open. You glance over at it but do a double take when you realize who stands in the doorway.

The hunter.

Around you, conversation quiets as everyone takes in the stranger. His helmet scans the room, like he’s looking for someone in particular. Internally you scoff. The bounty would never show his face here, he’d stand out too much amongst your people.

The hunter’s visor stops moving, aimed directly at you.

Kriff, you think, taking a swig of your drink. He wants information, and he’s not going to give up quite as easily as he did with your father.

The Mandalorian walks into the room, headed directly towards your booth. People watch, heads turning to track the stranger’s movements across the floor. His steps are heavy, intentional, large frame imposing as he approaches you.

Certainly a man built for survival. For conflict. If he were a different person, you might find it attractive.

He stops when he reaches your booth, looking down at you just as you stare up at him, brow raised.

“This seat taken?”

You shake your head and gesture to it. “Not at all.”

From the corner of your eye you can tell the rest of the tavern’s patrons are watching, waiting. As the hunter sits, you wave your hand discretely, telling them to return to their conversations, to each other.

The noise picks up again.

“You’ve got some influence here, princess.”

The name both rankles and sends a shiver of something unwanted down your spine. Now that he’s closer, knees almost brushing your own, you really get a sense of how intense this man’s presence is.

A warrior, to be sure. None would debate that.

You narrow your eyes at him. “We are not the subjects of a king, hunter.”

He scoffs, leaning back and resting his arm on the back of the booth. “Forgive me. What are you to them?”

“I do not see how it concerns you.” The words are harsh but your face remains neutral. Your father taught you how to deal with men like this - how to steel yourself against posturing, against prodding, against teasing.

The Mandalorian chuckles. “I just like to know who I’m talkin’ to. No need for the theatrics.”

You don’t respond. He’s the one who approached you - you have no desire to get in his good graces.

He sighs, glancing over to the wall at your left, his right. “I’d never heard of this planet before the tracker brought me here, much less your people,” he tells you. It’s not a surprise.

“That’s how we like to keep it. We stand no chance against something like the Republic or the Empire. Our only means of survival is staying under the radar.”

His visor is trained directly on you, staring, studying your face. You stare back, wishing you could somehow get a sense of what he looks like underneath the mask.

“How long have your people lived here?”

You know it’s not because he’s genuinely curious. Your mind is buzzing with all the different reasons he’d have for asking - he wants to know how familiar you are with the landscape. He wants to know how well-established your system of governance is here. He wants to know if you know how your people arrived.

He wants to know how vulnerable you are.

“Generations. Since before the Elders’ grandparents were born. Memory of our arrival here has been lost to time.”

He tilts his head. “Is yours the only settlement on the planet?”

You nod. As far as you know, anyway. Attempts have been made to reach out, to try and see if any other peoples live in the outer reaches of the landscape, but none have returned successful.

The Mandalorian hums. He glances over into the tavern, at the other patrons and the bartender. You watch as the bartender, a woman a few years younger than your father, uses a rag to clean out a cup, but you can tell she’s watching your table from the corner of her eye. When she notices the hunter’s helmet turn towards her, her eyes flit up to you, then over to him.

The hunter waves, as if to signal that he wants something. The bartender glances back at you and you nod. She sets down the cup and begins walking over.

You look over at him. He’s already staring back, chin tilted down like you’re a riddle he’s trying to solve.

“What can I do for you, sir?” The bartender’s voice does not waver, but it’s tense nonetheless.

He gestures to your drink. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

The bartender nods and leaves. You take a sip of your ale, finding comfort and clarity in the warmth it brings you.

Across from you, the bounty hunter shifts in his seat, removing his gloves to reveal a pair of calloused hands. You glance down at them and follow their movement as they reach up, thumbs curling under the bottom of his helmet, and lift.

The hunter’s weathered face greets you. He’s a man, like any other, like you expected him to be. His brows are arched and dark, but the rest of the hair on his head has been burnt away by something that left scars across the crown of his head and his face. His eyes are cold, haunted, calculating as they look at you.

He sets the helmet on the table with a thud .

“You’ve seen death,” you observe, holding his gaze with your own. “Been close to it.” His brown eyes narrow and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, princess.”

Ah, you think. He underestimates me. He thinks you’re the coddled daughter of a village leader, fed by the kindness of your people and adored for your status. You raise an eyebrow and take another swig of your drink, smirking into the amber liquid.

You set the cup down on the table. “There is more in those mountains than snow and wind, hunter.”

He doesn’t move, save for a slow blink. “Tell me, then.”

You sense movement from the corner of your eye - the bartender has returned with his drink. He nods to her in thanks and she gives a tight smile, glancing at you before hastily returning to her station.

The hunter takes the cup and brings it to his lips. You watch as he takes a sip, swallows, and his eyes widen. A small cough forces its way up and out of his throat.

You smile at him, a hint of a grin that curls the corners of your mouth.

“A bit strong for you?”

He glares over the rim of the cup and pointedly takes another swig. He sets the cup down, large hand dwarfing it.

“What is in those mountains?” His voice has gotten lower, rougher, like you’ll be intimidated by a show of verbal force.

“Nothing you’ll concern yourself with,” you reply, refusing to back down. “Unless you want to encounter your own mortality again.”

“I am perfectly fine with a bit of a scare.”

You bark out a laugh. “You wouldn’t survive an hour out there without a guide. And no one here will take the job, not when the options are either a fruitless search for a dead body or a shootout between two criminals.”

He leans forward, face pressing close to yours, warm breath blowing across your cheeks. His nose is inches from your own.

His voice drops to a low murmur. “I didn’t come here for a bounty, little one.”

Your brow furrows and you draw back, pressing your shoulders against the cushioned stone behind you.

“Word has got out of a large deposit of kyber somewhere in this system. The Empire has not yet caught wind, but soon they will.”

You don’t recognize the name of the material he’s referring to, but you do recognize the Empire and know exactly what something like that might mean for a small, defenseless village such as your own.

It’s much different than a simple bounty hiding in the mountains.

“Why didn’t you tell the Committee this?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know if this is where the deposit is. I didn’t want to cause unnecessary concern, especially considering the… size and scale of your village”

You purse your lips and lean your head back, staring up as you consider this development. This man has come in search of something you aren’t sure exists, and if it does, it means certain death for you and your people.

You look back down at the man across from you. “Then why did you decide to tell me? You’d have been better off going to my father with this information.”

He huffs out a chuckle, then grabs his drink and takes a swig. He sets the cup back down and rests his arm on the table beside it. “Because I need a guide, little one. Someone with knowledge of the terrain, who I won’t have to watch out for. I’m willing to pay handsomely.”

The dots begin to connect in your brain. You raise a brow at him. “I have no need for your credits. They’re next to useless here. Besides, how can we know this - this kyber is there at all?”

“Is there anything unnatural about the mountains? Anything that would point to something powerful within them?”

You frown, thinking on it for a moment. All of the ores found in the mine are naturally occurring, the creatures that live on the peaks are all native, and the --

It hits you. Your eyes widen ever so slightly, and your heart rate increases. A falling feeling in your stomach takes the sensation from your legs for a moment, ice cold and burning all at once.

“The water.”

The Mandalorian tilts his head. You glance around to make sure no one’s heard you. Everyone in the tavern seems oblivious to the two of you, despite their stares earlier.

“We have to leave,” you tell him, fishing a couple of coins out of your pocket and depositing them on the table. “We can’t discuss this here. Come with me.”

Hastily you stand, taking your cloak from its hook on the side of the booth and pulling it on. The hunter follows suit, sliding his helmet back on and looking around the room.

You start towards the door, heavy footsteps following behind you.

You bring him to your home, the only place where you know you won’t be interrupted. You live in a small building tucked in a quiet corner of the village, between a storage silo and the village’s north wall.

Inside, the hearth has been going all day, fueled by coal and snow-bison waste chips. There are four rooms; three downstairs and a bedroom upstairs. You bring the Mandalorian to your study, where the fire roars and there’s a few soft chairs and a couch to sit on. He takes a seat on the latter and removes his helmet, watching as you search your bookshelves for something.

“Care to tell me what you meant by ‘the water’?” He slouches, thick thighs spread over the couch cushion.

Your eyes follow the movement of his legs for a split second. It’s supremely distracting, how inviting he looks right now. You glance up at his face and see a small smirk on his lips. A blush colors your cheeks, caught in the act of looking. To hide it, you turn back to the bookshelf, scanning the spines of your books.

“In the warm season there are streams that flow from the mountaintops to the valley. It pools in an area not far from here and forms a small lake, not much more than a pond, that freezes over once the cold sets in again. For centuries we’ve brought our sick and dying there to be healed.”

The hunter hums. “And it works?”

You nod, turning to look over your shoulder at him. “I was brought there as a child. I would have died of the fever had it not been for the water. Our Elders drink if regularly after they reach a certain age, once they haven’t been killed by the elements.”

“Are you saying your people live longer because of it?”

You pause. That has never crossed your mind, since using the water’s magic has always been normal to you, a yearly practice like any other. “I don’t know. How long does man usually tend to live?”

“It depends,” he says. “I’d say a hundred years at most.”

That has you taken aback. You look over at the bookshelf again - this is life-changing, world-shattering information. Dread begins to settle in your chest, like everything you thought was real is a lie.

The hunter leans forward, hands on his knees, concern etched on his scarred face. “How long do your people live, little one? How many years?”

You inhale and look over at him. “Hundreds. A thousand, if we’re lucky.”

“Kriff,” he swears, leaning back with a hand over his mouth and nose.

Turning back to the bookshelf, you resume your search to calm your racing mind. You find the book you were looking for, a collection of stories gathered by your family over generations.

“Here,” you say, sliding the book out of its place and taking it over to the hunter. He scoots over, but only slightly, so when you sit next to him you’re tucked snugly between him and the arm of the couch. His thigh is warm against your own and you get chills down your neck when he shifts to put his arm behind you, around your shoulders.

You clear your throat and open the book, letting it rest on your legs.

“There are a few accounts that speak of the water,” you tell him, flipping through the pages until you find the one you’re looking for. It’s half a page of writing, the other taken up by a crude map of the mountains.

“The waters are life-giving,” you read, tracing along the words with your index finger. “They shimmer and glow in the sun when it shines upon us. The source is deep within the mountain, covered by ice and snow in the cold season. No one has seen the source of the waters and survived. Many have tried. It lies in the heart of ongrol territory.”

“Ongrol?” The hunter’s voice is deep, low in your ear. You look up at him, absentmindedly biting your lip between your teeth.

“Yes,” you reply. “A vicious species of massive snow lion. It’s rare to see one and live to tell the tale. I’ve only ever seen their prints.”

He hums, eyes flitting across your face as he studies you up close. “How large are they?”

You shake your head. “We can only guess, but certainly bigger than this building.”

The Mandalorian nods, his eye contact with you intense and unwavering. You meet it head-on, the warmth you feel in your bones spreading into your thighs and your ribs and your --

You blink and turn back to the book. The map is shaded to indicate the creatures’ territory, with a dot to indicate the general location of where the source is thought to be.

You point to an area just outside the shaded region. “This is as far as I’ve been. I can get us to the source - it’s the ongrol that are the problem.” You look back up at the hunter. “You’re sure the kyber is what’s causing this?”

He nods. “It’s one of the most powerful materials in the known universe. Little else could heal your people the way it does.”

“How do we hide the signature from others, to keep them from finding it?” The unspoken question there hangs in the air as you speak; how do we protect ourselves from attack?

He furrows his brow, shaking his head ever so slightly. “I’m still trying to work that part out, little one.”

That does not do much ease your anxieties, but you have to accept it for now.

You close the book with a sigh and stand to return it to its place on the shelf. When you turn back, the hunter has placed his other arm on the back of the couch, spread out like a king on a throne.

He looks comfortable - at home, here in yours. It’s unlike you to bring a stranger into your dwelling and not feel uneasy about it. Yet here he is, and it’s like he belongs right there on your couch, armor and all. You cross your arms, observing him.

“Do you know the name Boba Fett, princess?”

You shake your head. “No, I do not.”

He smiles, like your answer pleases him. “It's mine.”

Boba. The name is unusual, but it suits the man before you.

“I’d tell you mine in return, but I’ve grown fond of the names you’ve chosen for me, Boba Fett.”

A deep sound pushes its way out of Boba’s chest through his throat - half a chuckle, half a growl. He gives you a once-over with his dark brown eyes, like he can see right through your thick base layer and loose tunic. You watch as he does so, trying to calm your nervous breathing. His gaze is so penetrating, so intense, that after a moment you have to turn away from him, towards the fireplace.

The orange-blue flames dance in front of you, warming your face even further. A mirror hangs above it, but your eyes are focused on the hearth.

You hear Boba shift behind you, metal on fabric. “Tell me, little one,” he says. You can sense him moving closer. “Do you have any suitors, here in the village?”

The question makes your heart race even faster. “No.” You refuse to look at him, knowing that what you see there will render words impossible. “I’ve not had any interest in them.”

“But have men tried? Asked to court you?” He’s right behind you now, the warmth of him nearly matching that of the flames in front of you. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. You can see his shadow from the corner of your eye.

“Yes,” you nod. “They have tried.”

Boba hums. His hands come up to gently, but firmly, rest on your shoulders. He slowly smooths his gloved palms down your arms, taking them from being crossed over one another to resting loose at your sides.

You risk a glance up at the mirror in front of you. He’s already looking at you, eyes locked on yours. You meet his gaze and dip your chin ever so slightly, so you’re staring at him from beneath your lashes.

A ghost of a smirk dances across Boba’s lips. He breaks the eye contact and you watch as he looks down at the nape of your neck, one of few exposed pieces of your skin. His right hand brushes your hair from over your shoulder onto your back, gathering the long tresses together. The women in your village grow their hair out as long as they can, not only to use for braids, but also to keep warm.

Boba’s fingers brush lightly against you, the rough material of his gloves a contrast to the smooth skin of your neck.

“Why haven’t they been successful, princess?”

You clench your jaw. Boba looks back up at you, his hand resting across your nape, fingers curled ever so slightly. The feeling of it makes your thighs tremble, your core responding to this silent, easy display of authority. It shows on your face, how much you like this, and you know Boba sees it.

“None of them could give me --”

Your words are cut off by Boba’s hand snaking around your neck, firm grip tightening around the column of your throat. You gasp, a soft, breathy noise, and the man behind you chuckles. His thumb and forefinger press into your jaw, forcing your head up, though your eyes are still locked onto his reflection in the mirror.

You choke out the rest of your sentence. “-- Give me what I need.”

“Is that so,” Boba murmurs, the words a deep rumble in his rough voice. He presses just a bit tighter, and your eyes flutter closed in response. “I think I know just what you need, my dear.”

His words burn through you like fire on wood, like a cold wind rushing through an open window. Your legs grow weak and your hands grapple at him, trying to find something to hold onto. Your left hand catches on the gauntlet covering his arm and you draw it around, so his arm covers your hip and his hand rests possessively on your lower stomach.

“What a pretty thing you are,” Boba mutters, sliding his hand lower on your front until his fingertips brush your mound. You let your head drop back against his shoulder at the feeling of him cupping your most private of areas, like it’s his, like it’s always been his. Your legs shift further apart to make room for his wide palm. “A stoic princess who desperately needs someone to take care of her.”

You whine at that, at what he’s offering you. It’s true; of all the eligible men in the village, not one has taken you to bed and been able to let you fully cede control to them. They see you as a leader, as someone not to be messed with, as someone to be respected above all else.

“Oh, yes,” Boba hums, curling the fingers of his left hand into your cunt, hooking them into you through your clothes. “They might follow your orders, little one, but you’ll follow mine.”

It sounds like paradise, letting him have you like this. You nod against the armor on his chest, movement limited and head growing dizzy thanks to the hand around your neck. Boba presses his lips close to your ear, his large body now curled around yours.

“Listen to me, sweetheart.” The pet name makes you melt against him. “I am going to go take a seat, and then you’re gonna take your clothes off for me. Can you do that?”

You open your eyes and there he is, in the corner of your vision, gaze dark and full of heated promises. You study his face for a moment, memorizing his features while he’s close like this, and then you nod.

“Yes, Boba.”

“Good,” he tells you. He then moves his hands away, and though you mourn the loss of his touch, knowing what’s to come keeps you patient.

He turns, walks back over to the sofa, and sits. He spreads his legs as he did before, arms on the back of the couch, watching you.

Boba looks so much like a king in that moment that it makes you want to bow before him, to prostrate yourself like you aren’t the daughter of the Chieftain. To worship him as he demands.

The thought crosses your mind as your fingers begin to unwrap your tunic, taking the woven material from its intricate adornment on your body. You feel a blush rising on your cheeks at the implications - what would the village think of their leader’s daughter, the one to assume his role in the future, imagining such things about a stranger?

Your mind wanders, racing, thinking of seeing him upon a proper throne, all silent confidence and heated gazes from behind the visor of his helmet. Maybe he’d bring you there, show you off to a court, hold you in his wide palms like a treaty. Set you upon his lap like a rare trophy from your far-off snow planet. You’d wrap your arm around the back of his neck and listen to his dealings while he kept a firm hand on your upper thigh.

Dignitaries and crime lords alike would watch, whispering, unable to look away.

It thrills you, to have these secret desires.

You deposit the tunic on the floor next to you and toy with the hem of your top, pulling it out from where it was tucked in your pants. Boba’s eyes zero in on the strip of skin that is revealed as you raise the shirt higher, higher, and higher, until in one motion you’ve slipped it over your head and off entirely.

He stares at your chest and it makes you smile. Men will be men.

Feeling emboldened by the way Boba is looking at you, you turn around and hook your thumbs in the waistband of your pants. You slowly slip them down your hips, over your thighs, and past your knees, bending over as you do so.

Behind you, you hear shuffling. You toss the pants to join the tunic and shirt and turn to see Boba’s codpiece and gloves removed, his hand shoved down the front of his pants.

“I’m enjoying the show, little one,” he says, and waves at you with his other hand, even as you begin to see movement at the crotch of his trousers. “Continue.”

You smirk, a sly thing at seeing the effect your bare form has on him. You tuck your fingers under the band of your bra and pull up. Your arms block your view of Boba’s face as your breasts are revealed to him, but the hungry look in his eye once you can see him gives you a good idea of it.

“Kriff,” Boba swears, jerking himself faster, rougher. The sight of it makes your breathing become heavy, the labor of it causing your chest to heave. His eyes drop from your face to your tits - somehow, you don’t feel embarrassed or ashamed like you might usually.

You just feel wanted. It’s intoxicating, that he wants you for you , not your title.

There’s only one article of clothing left on your body now. You turn around again, your back to him, and take the front hem of your underwear in your fingers. Slowly, almost teasing, you slip it over your hips, arching your back and pushing your ass out towards Boba. The underwear slips down your thighs until it falls to the floor.

You straighten up again and look over your shoulder at him. He gestures with his free hand, a ‘come here’ motion that you’re all too eager to follow.

“Beautiful kriffing body,” he murmurs as you approach. He reaches out and puts his hand on your hip, fingers curling into your ass cheek. His eyes stare at your mound, at the patch of hair there. “Bet you’re already wet for me, huh?”

He glances up at you. You blush, watching as he removes his hand from his pants and snakes it in between your legs, calloused fingers feeling the evidence of his effect on you. His fingertips catch on your clit, rubbing and feeling and stoking the fire within. You moan wantonly, comfortable in the privacy of your home.

“You are. Kriffing soaked. Just begging for my cock, aren’t you?”

His words make your pussy clench just as he slips one of his thick fingers into you, surely spreading his own fluids across your tight, hot skin. The girth of it forces a whine out of you, brows furrowed, and your hand flies down to hold onto his as he fucks you with his finger. Your other hand comes to rest on his shoulder, gripping his armor.

“Look at you,” he mutters, baring his teeth as he watches you writhe on his hand, using his thumb to rub your clit just so. Your mouth drops open in pleasure, sparks shooting down your legs and up into your belly at the feeling.

Boba hums, circling his thumb and flicking it over your puffy, sensitive nub. “What would your people think if they saw you moaning like a whore for an old man, hm?”

Your legs turn to jelly at the force of the arousal that hits your cunt. You sway forward, knees buckling, and Boba catches you as you fall.

He uses the hand on your ass to guide you into a sitting position on his lap, so now you’re straddling him, bare chest pressed to the cool metal of his armor. You tuck your face into his neck and revel in the feeling of a second finger teasing at your opening.

“You like that, little one?” His words cause his throat to vibrate, and the deep tone draws your lips in to kiss at it. Your nose brushes against the underside of his jaw as you move from kissing to licking, getting drunk on the taste of his sweat on your tongue.

Boba groans, sliding the second finger into your cunt with ease. You sigh, blowing cool air across the skin you’ve just wet with your tongue. “You do.” He runs his free hand up your thigh, holding tight to the firm muscle there, toned and strong from a lifetime in the ice and snow. “So desperate for my cock.”

You nod, though your lips hardly leave his neck. “Please, Boba,” you whisper into his skin, pressing yourself as close to him as you can get.

His fingers still their movements within you and you whine. Boba shushes you, and you have to bite your lip to keep from pouting when he pulls his fingers from your pussy. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and leans back.

“I want you on your hands and knees, princess. Right here on the couch.”

You nod frantically and there’s not a moment of hesitation in your haste to follow his order. You arrange yourself next to him, forearms propped on the arm of the couch and your knees keeping your ass aloft in the air.

Boba turns and positions himself behind you with ease, half standing with one foot on the floor, his other leg bent and kneeling on the cushion.

He may call himself an old man, but he’s got the physicality of someone half his age. It makes the spot between your legs hotter and wetter just to think of it. Your cunt throbs for him.

You look over your shoulder and watch as he reaches into his pants, hand spreading your wetness across his dick, and your eyes widen as he draws it out from the confines of his trousers. Your gaze zeros in on him; he’s thick and long, just as you suspected, and every inch is one you want to feel as deep inside you as possible. Honestly, it makes sense - you’ve always heard that the men with the most to make up for do so in their personalities.

Men like Boba don’t have to compensate, which makes them all the more attractive.

You glance up to his face. He’s smirking down at you, eyes traveling down to your ass, pushed out and open for him. He runs a hand along the soft swell of your rear, caressing you like you’re precious, like you’re prized.

“I could get used to this,” he tells you, guiding the head of his cock to notch at your opening. “Seeing a future queen all bare and ripe for me.”

Your eyelids flutter as you feel him press in further, deeper. The sight of him kneeling behind you, fully clothed while you’re naked as the day you were born, sends a wave of arousal through you. Your brain doesn’t even register what he’s called you, how wrong he is, because you can’t think of anything beyond his dick.

“C’mon, Boba,” you whine, his slow pace driving you mad. “Fuck me like you mean it, old man.”

The noise that comes out of his mouth is almost non-human with the way it reverberates around the room. His hands dig into your hips and he thrusts , unrelenting and rough, spearing you onto his thick cock until his balls slap your clit. You choke out a moan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at how perfectly full you feel.

“Ah,” he grunts out as he immediately sets to fucking you roughly, deeply. “The little princess does want to be treated like a whore.” His words are accompanied by the lewd sound of his cock moving in your wet cunt, his hips slapping against your own. You moan, loud and uninhibited, unable to conceive of shame or propriety.

For your whole life you’ve been looked up to, treated as both fragile and untouchable.

Boba Fett fucks you like you’re nothing more to him than a pet.

He snarls his words into the air. “Woulda fucked you there on that table in the cantina, shown the whole village how well you take me.”

You keen, arching your back further to give him a better angle. He runs his left hand up your side, gripping your waist and pulling you back onto his cock in time with his thrusts. He’s deeper inside you than anyone’s ever been - you’re beginning to think men in your village must be small, or maybe Boba’s just unnaturally big, because you think you can feel the head of his cock bruising your cervix.

The thought of him taking you in the tavern has you clenching down on him even tighter. Maybe you would have gotten on your knees for him, hid beneath the tablecloth and kept his cock warm in your mouth.

“That turn you on, princess?” He slows his thrusts just slightly, drawing out so he can slam back in with even more force. You cry out, nodding, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

“Of course it does,” he grunts, and you can feel the crest of your climax steadily approaching as he speaks, letting yourself get lost in the fantasies he’s bringing to life. His thrusts speed up again, rough and brutal, just as you need.

“You were just waiting for someone to -- ungh -- come along and fuck all the thoughts outta that clever little head, weren’t you?”

You whine, because he’s right - your normally sharp, observant brain has been put out like water over a fire. Boba leans forward, placing his hand on the arm of the couch next to your elbow, and brushes his lips against the back of your neck. It changes his position enough that his cock hits you just that much deeper, pounding against that elusive sweet spot deep within your cunt.

“Kriff, Boba --” You barely get the words out, your voice hoarse and strained and your mind turned to mush. “So -- so big.”

Against your ear, you feel more than hear him chuckle. His teeth catch on your earlobe, hot breath skating down the side of your face.

“Yeah? You like having my big cock in your tight little pussy?”

You keen, high-pitched and desperate. “Please, Boba, I’m gonna --”

His teeth trail down the side of your neck, biting firmly enough to leave a trail of red marks across your skin. Once he’s satisfied with his work, he leans up again so he can grip your hips more firmly.

“Gonna come, little one? Go on --” his words trail off for a moment - or maybe your hearing fades out as the crisis within you rises to its limit. Right as you’re on the edge, your face flush with sensation and your cunt fluttering around him, his rough voice fades back in.

“-- wanna feel you, princess. Come for your king.”

You have no choice but to do as he says.

Boba’s words scratch that small, hidden itch in your brain you’d taken a glance at earlier. Your mind whites out for a split second, as blinding as a snowstorm, before you return to yourself.

He’s still fucking you. Using you. Oversensitive and trembling, your senses absorb the world around you - Boba's hands on your hips, the scrape of his armor against your thighs, the crackle of the fireplace somewhere over your shoulder.

The rhythm of Boba's cock inside you, chasing the same high you'd found moments earlier.

You moan, pushing back, encouraging him to find his release. A glance over your shoulder gives you the sight of his eyes focused on where he's thrusting into you, lip curled, a drop of sweat trailing down over his jaw.

Boba glances up at you and smirks, though the flash of teeth makes it more of a sneer. "Where do you want me, princess?"

A serene smile crosses your face and you pretend to think on it for a moment, lazy in your post-orgasmic haze.

"On me," you reply. "Wherever you want."

He grunts, looking back down, and thrusts a few more times, deep and bruising. As soon as he pulls out you mourn the loss of him, the fullness inside of you, but you're rewarded with a vision unlike any you've seen before. Boba takes himself in hand, and with a loud groan, cums across your ass, his spend dripping down your thighs and onto your pussy lips. He covers you with himself, marking you up.

Once he's finished, Boba runs a hand through the cum on your skin, pressing firmly and rubbing it in.

"Been wanting to do that since I saw you in the meeting hall, little one."

You hum, eyes fluttering closed at the thought of it. What a scandal - the Chieftain's daughter falling for the stranger, the first foreigner to visit the village in living memory.

Behind you, Boba shifts off of the couch. He stands beside you and then you register that he's moving you, strong hands arranging your limp body so he can pick you up. One arm slips beneath your knees and the other under your back.

"Bedroom's upstairs," you murmur.

He brings you there, tucking you into bed carefully and then turning to undo his armor. As you watch him methodically remove each piece, you get the feeling that you're privy to something rare. Though you're sleepy, your eyes remain open, intent on keeping this memory clear.

The thought crosses your mind that this man must know so much of the universe. He's probably been to hundreds of planets, has hundreds of stories.

You've only ever known snow and wind.

"Boba?"

He's just finished with the last of his armor when you speak. He sits down on the edge of the bed next to you and puts his hand on your side.

"Yes, princess?"

You gaze up into his eyes, dark but soft when looking at you.

"What's the most beautiful place you've ever been to?"

He smiles at that, letting out a soft chuckle. "I've been to so many places that it's hard to keep track, little one."

You pout. He moves to settle into bed next to you, under the layers of fur and fleece that keep you warm.

"You must have a favorite," you insist, curling up against him, head resting on his bicep.

He's quiet for a minute, thinking. You wait, though sleep threatens to pull you under. Boba's words lull you out of the beginnings of your slumber.

"I think you'd like Naboo," he tells you. You've read about it, about their system of governance. You can't recall seeing any pictures or illustrations, though.

"It's very green," he explains. "There's meadows and forests everywhere. Their cities are vast, the buildings beautiful in themselves. I traveled there with my father when I was young."

You want to ask more, to learn about this place so different from anything you know. Your mind is racing with imaginings when you fall asleep, cozy and warm against Boba Fett.

In the night, your dreams glow as bright as the sun.

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