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fanfreakinfiction · 7 months

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My Gods Are Not Kind to Lonely Mothers

Chapter 1: Don’t Cry

Ch. 2 | Masterlist 🖤

14K words // Din Djarin x Pregnantf!reader

Pairing: Din Djarin x pregnantf!reader (Reader is younger but not weirdly young) Reader was a sex worker. Reader’s first language is one I made up she speaks pretty good basic but struggles to find certain words. The reader is pregnant!

Tags: SMUT virginity loss, con-non-con, made-up Star Wars culture & religion, split POV, slight language barrier, mention of death, mention of child death, dark!, 18+ DNI.

Warnings: Child loss, Pregnancy, Birthing, Blood, Death?, explicit mention of child loss and grief, guys this is dark.

A/N: I got this idea as I was dying in the shower from period cramps & also from a bot I used to use on Janitor AI before it was privated (RIP Din Bot). For logistics, we will just pretend that the Razor Crest didn’t get absolutely obliterated. For timeline reference, this takes place after season 3. Im convinced Din & Grogu are gonna have fun son/dad bounty-hunting adventures as Din teaches Grogu how to be a Mandalorian. Slight flashback in the middle of how reader and Mando met. Grogu has been working on his force flips lmao. I imagine the reader having an accent kind of like Gal Gadot, idk just roll with it. Also, I am so sorry if you cry reading this, I know I did writing it.

His hands ghosted over the silky skin of her back as he watched himself disappear and reappear from her stretched cunt. Slick mixed with blood pooled at the base of his cock in a ring, and the sound of her whimpers reached his ears through the thick metal of his helmet. The feeling of her tightness was so inviting, so hypnotizing, he felt possessed. He didn’t even mean to finish inside of her, he’d have to pay extra for that.

From the incense heavy room he found himself standing at the edge of an enigmatic forest, encircled by black rock. An ethereal silence enveloped the scene, leaving him with an eerie sense of detachment.

His eyes shifted as he looked up on a pool of steaming water, obscured by the thick veil of steam, he saw her. The woman he’d been with on Tattooine so long ago. She struggled, her words lost in the hissing steam as her trembling hand gently grazed her belly. And there, in the midst of the dream's uncertainty, he witnessed the miracle of life itself—a whisper of cells coalescing into a fragile existence, pulsating with an otherworldly vitality.

Yet, the serenity was short-lived. The gentle whisper transformed into a nightmarish wail—a blood-curdling scream that tore through the tranquility of the woods. It was a scream of agony, of despair, and it emanated from her trembling lips. Her lips, soft and inviting, the same ones he'd yearned to kiss that night when he had ventured into the pleasure house.

The piercing screams grew louder, echoing through the dream, a symphony of suffering that filled the air with torment. As he watched her agony unfold, he was jolted awake, his head colliding with the unforgiving overhead storage. The sudden transition from the surreal to reality left him momentarily disoriented.

In the dimly lit living quarters of the Crest, Grogu, the young green child who had become an unexpected but cherished presence in his life, cried out from his sling, hanging above Din's bunk.

With a heavy sigh, the sound reverberating through the vocoder in his helmet, Din rose to his feet. The aging joints in his knees protested as he reached out to comfort the child, his gloved hands gently lifting Grogu from the nest of makeshift fabric.

"I know," Din murmured softly, his voice a quiet rumble as he cradled the child in his arms. "You saw it too, didn't you, kid?" Grogu, with his large, expressive eyes, gazed up at Din with a mournful look and reached out, tiny green fingers brushing against the Mandalorian's helmet.

After the tumultuous events that had reshaped his life, Din Djarin had never allowed your memory to occupy his thoughts. Amidst the whirlwind of reuniting with Grogu, aiding Boba Fett, and playing a pivotal role in the reclamation of Mandalore, you had become little more than a faint blip on his radar—a passing connection that had provided a brief interlude of solace in the midst of his relentless journey.

But now, as he cradled Grogu in his arms, looking into the innocent, sorrowful eyes of the young child, he couldn't deny the awakening of something deeper within him. It was a sensation that transcended the confines of his dreams, a connection he felt as profoundly as the vivid dreamscape that had woven itself into his consciousness.

The realization slowly dawned upon him: you were more than just a fleeting memory. You were an integral part of the enigmatic tapestry of his life, and the threads of fate had woven your presence into his destiny in a way he had never expected.

Breaking free from his reverie, Grogu's tiny green form squirmed wildly in Din's arms, his latent Force abilities propelling him away from the Mandalorian's grasp. With agile grace, he leaped and bounced his way through the ship's cramped quarters, a small but energetic whirlwind of curiosity. Din could barely react before Grogu vaulted into the cockpit.

Din's boots thudded on the ladder's metal rungs as he followed the young one up into the cockpit. A chorus of wild babbling reached his ears, punctuated by the frenzied pressing of buttons on the navicomputer.

"Don't touch that!" Din exclaimed, a hint of exasperation in his voice, his heart racing as Grogu's tiny hand hovered perilously close to the power reset button. He couldn't help but be wary of the mischief the child could unleash.

The young one looked up at Din with eager eyes, babbled something incomprehensible, and tentatively touched the screen. Din cocked his head, his tinted visor reflecting his curiosity. With a resigned sigh, he walked over to the console and entered a code to initialize the navigation system. "Is this what you want?" Din asked, studying Grogu.

In response, Grogu emitted a single, distinct "Patu" sound, his tiny fingers now reaching for the code panel. Hesitating only momentarily, Din bent down, lifting the child to eye level with the buttons. Grogu began to press a sequence of buttons, his small, green hands navigating the controls with surprising precision. Din's eyes widened slightly, his thoughts racing.

"You know where she is?" his voice came out raspy. Grogu completed the sequence, and his innocent gaze met Din's as the navicomputer diligently calculated the numerical sequence. After a few moments, a series of beeps indicated the successful completion of the calculations. Din turned to read the result, the Aurebesh characters on the screen spelling out "Kith."

"It's in the Baxel Sector of the Outer Rim," Din murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty, as he looked down at the child now resting contentedly in his lap. Grogu gazed up at him, then shifted his gaze to the navicomputer.

With a reluctant sigh, Din pressed a sequence of buttons to engage the hyperdrive. Whether he liked it or not, the path ahead was clear. He had to check on you. As the ship surged into hyperspace, a nagging voice in the back of his mind whispered that this journey was far from ordinary.

—

The path up to the Mountain of Mothers was a grueling journey, especially with your feet swollen and aching. It wasn't just a hike; it was a trial, a test of endurance to prove the worthiness of those seeking parenthood. The heavy pack you carried pressed on your lower back, making each step a test of your will. Normally, the pack was shared by the "Irrit" or father, but "Illa-ishi" or lonely mothers like you were compelled to carry it alone. The remnants of those who hadn't made it to the Mountain of Mothers were marked by the skeletons you passed on the way up.

The lower pool of the mountain lay two days away, and the upper pool required an additional five days of journey. Yet, something in your heart told you that this child would be with you in two days. As you followed the ascending trail, you crossed paths with an "Illa" or mother, accompanied by her Irrit. He bore their pack with pride, walking just behind her. It was a sight that warmed your heart, a testament to the culture you held dear.

"Noona" or baby was the foundation of your beliefs, the embodiment of the life you and your "Manna" or partner created together. Reaching the Mountain of Mothers and returning with a child was the highest honor, a symbol of worthiness.

The Illa halted on her descent and, with an air of pride, revealed her noona, wrapped in the family cloth. "Noona asa illa-ini!" (it’s a girl) she declared with joy, unveiling a beautiful baby girl. You couldn't help but smile down at the tiny noona and the Illa who showed her off with such pride.

“Noona asa mala ta Illa a Irrit,” (baby is worthy of her mother and father) you responded with the customary blessing, bowing your head in reverence. The mother and father returned the bow, acknowledging the blessing. However, the mother's eyes soon drifted to your belly and the heavy pack that weighed you down.

“Asa Illa-ishi?” she asked softly, her face clouding with sadness. (Are you a lonely mother?)

Summoning all your strength, you fought back the tears that threatened to well up. With your head held high and a tender hand resting on your belly, you spoke resolutely, "A illa-ishi."

I am a lonely mother.

—

The journey through hyperspace had indeed stretched far longer than Din had anticipated. A full day had elapsed since that haunting dream, leaving him with the unsettling sensation of being trapped in some unseen, cosmic rotation of time. However, that ceaseless ticking eventually brought them to the end of their journey as the ship dropped out of hyperspace in front of a smaller, mysterious planet, its surface adorned with sprawling waters and lush forests. As he guided the ship into the planet's atmosphere, the Mandalorian noticed a stark absence of the usual signs of civilization—no traffic control, no spaceports, not even a refueling station. The setting felt eerily reminiscent of the world of Sorgan.

Din hovered uncertainly in the atmosphere, his mind racing. Grogu, seated in the co-pilot's chair, played with the mythasaur skull around his neck, seemingly unfazed by the situation. As Din stared at the green child, he let out a sigh and rested his head against the back of his chair.

"Now what…?" Din muttered to himself, his voice carrying the weight of uncertainty. Closing his eyes, he tried to recall the details of the dream, seeking any hint or clue that could guide their search.

In his mind's eye, he saw you, your form shrouded in mist and glistening with sweat. The dress you wore clung to your figure, the fabric a soft white-grey that accentuated your curves as you breathed heavily. His brow furrowed in concentration. There was water, almost like a waterfall, surrounding you, with black jagged rocks supporting your form. Your feet were immersed in milky water, reminiscent of a hot spring.

Din's eyes snapped open. A hot spring. It wasn't much to go on, especially for a planet that could potentially be dotted with such natural wonders, but it was a lead worth pursuing. His hands sprung into action, deftly pressing a sequence of buttons that initiated a signal, a ping to any electronic communication device on the planet's surface.

Grogu's focus shifted from the mythasaur skull to the Mandalorian, the child's curious gaze following Din's swift movements. Din soon located the nearest signal on the planet's surface, and as he brought the Razor Crest lower, he was struck by the intensity of the landscape. Towering thick trees covered nearly every inch of land, a vast, unspoiled wilderness that stretched out as far as the eye could see. The planet's terrain was marked by colossal mountains that sliced through the canopy of green like serpents in water, their peaks jutting out in sporadic bursts.

It was a breathtaking and untamed landscape, like nothing Din had ever witnessed. His gaze scanned the vast expanse below, tracking the signal as he searched for a suitable place to land the Crest. Finally, he spotted it—an elevated landing pad erected above the treetops. It seemed to be a small station, but it was a potential refuge for refueling and gathering information, a step closer to finding you

"K1 to RC 4577, you are clear to land at dock 7," a thickly accented voice echoed through the Razor Crest's comms system, providing the coordinates for their landing.

"RC 4577 to K1, recieved," Din responded, his gaze shifting to meet Grogu's eyes. The Mandalorian leaned over to offer a piece of advice to the child, "Always be kind when you land; most landing bay employees often know the most information." Grogu looked at Din, his large eyes brimming with understanding, and he babbled something that Din accepted as an acknowledgment.

With precision, Din guided the Razor Crest toward its designated dock and gently brought the ship to the surface. As he withdrew his hand from the control lever, he noticed a subtle tremor in his own fingers. It had been a long time since he had felt such a physical manifestation of emotion, not since he had lost Grogu to Moff Gideon.

In response to the tremor, Grogu cooed softly and reached out for his protector. Din's gaze locked onto the child, his trembling hands cautiously reaching out to embrace him. Grogu instinctively placed his tiny hands on either side of Din's helmet, offering comfort and connection. A sense of relief washed over the Mandalorian, and he exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The small hands on his helmet made a soft "plink" sound that resonated through his interior comms.

"Thanks, kid," Din murmured, his voice laden with gratitude, but his words unable to fully convey the depth of his feelings.

Exiting the ship, Din carried Grogu in his sling, the child's presence providing a grounding force amidst the uncertainty that lay ahead. A young mechanic in worn-overalls approached, his basic broken but comprehensible. "Need refuel?" he asked, to which Din nodded in acknowledgment. The mechanic, unfazed by the Mandalorian's helmet, started toward the fuel hose.

"Hot springs?" Din inquired, his voice barely audible above the wind that whipped violently across the landing pad. The mechanic turned, his eyes reflecting confusion, but Din simply nodded and reached for his credits, preparing to tip the young man for his services. Glancing around the landing pad, he spotted a few other ships—a transport vessel and two cargo ships.

The pad itself had clearly seen better days, and the gusts of wind whipped violently across its aged metal surface, causing a tumultuous symphony of sound. At the front of the landing pad stood a small rectangular building, featuring one set of large bay doors. It seemed to be the station's main structure. Adjusting Grogu in his sling, Din began to make his way toward it, his steps determined.

The small building served as a cover for various ships, a mix of those dusted and covered with the weight of time, and others gleaming with newness. Inside, a modest diner and café shop hummed with activity, a few patrons engaged in quiet conversations. At the front, an older man sat at a makeshift desk, engrossed in the workings of a peculiar-looking computer. As Din approached, the man stood abruptly, his enthusiasm palpable.

"Hello, traveler! Welcome to Kith!" he greeted with a giant smile. "I am Don Mai, the residing Mayor. We are humbled by the presence of a great warrior such as yourself!" With a reverence that bordered on adoration, the old man bowed deeply.

Din suppressed the urge to laugh, already forming an opinion of the enthusiastic mayor that he made a mental note to tell Bo Katan about later. Before Din could utter a word, Don Mai thrust a paper pamphlet into his hands, his speech transitioning into a rehearsed spiel about Kith's culture and history.

"Kith has a rich culture and even more intense history! Women from all over the galaxy come to experience the Mountain of Mothers and—"

“The Mountain of Mothers?" Din interjected, his tone cutting through the mayor's ramblings.

Don Mai's eyes widened slightly, and he cleared his throat. "Well, the Mountain of Mothers has been around since the dawn of life on our humble planet, and its springs offer—"

"Hot springs?" Din interrupted again, his focus unwavering.

"Uh, well, yes, you see, the springs offer—" Don Mai began once more, but Din's impatience grew apparent.

"Where?" Din's voice was firm, demanding answers without the unnecessary embellishments.

Don Mai huffed, "The Mountain of Mothers is the largest mountain range on Kith. You should've seen it from your ship. If you take the elevator down to the planet’s surface, there is a speeder rental that can take you to the base of the range," the old man explained, his tone slightly deflated by Din's lack of interest in his detailed lecture.

Din places the paper pamphlet in a storage pocket on his bandolier as Grogu watches closely.

“And the elevator?” Din asks not looking away from the old man.

"To the left of the fuel pump on the landing pad. Just remember to pay your respects to the Gods as you visit the—"

The old man's voice dwindled into the background as Din walked away from the building and back onto the landing pad. He made his way to the fuel pump and, as instructed, looked to the left to find a rickety-looking elevator, seemingly manually operated. The metal showed signs of rust in various spots, and the wire pulley appeared to be in need of greasing. The flooring of the elevator was a grate that revealed the ground thousands of feet below. Grogu emitted a series of frightened squeaks and coos as Din hesitantly stepped onto the grating.

"I know, kid… let's just... get down there," Din muttered through gritted teeth, steeling himself for the precarious descent.

Din's hand gripped the elevator crank tightly, his patience stretched thin as he began the painstakingly slow descent. Halfway through, he had to switch arms, the anger at the archaic contraption bubbling beneath his calm exterior. It was unusual for him to get frustrated with inanimate objects, but this elevator was testing his resolve. After what felt like an eternity, the elevator reached the bottom of the landing pad. With a forceful yank, Din opened the rusted gate, stepping onto soil that felt surprisingly soft underfoot, reminiscent of the sands on Tatooine, albeit less yielding.

The area below was like a forgotten tourist hub, the shops standing silent and forlorn, each manned by a lone shopkeeper who stared into the emptiness, boredom etched across their faces. It was a desolate sight, a place trying to be lively without the visitors to make it so.

Walking further, Din noticed a row of rusted speeder bikes, the rentals. His heavy boots left imprints on the sponge-like earth as he approached. A few of the shopkeepers stirred from their boredom at the sight of the silver-clad Mandalorian passing by.

Reaching the speeder rental, Din was met by an old Aqualish man, the grey of the hair surrounding his face telling tales of years of service.

"How much?" Din asked, his voice reflecting his growing impatience.

"Fifty credits," the Aqualish garbled back.

"Thirty-five," Din countered, his tone firm as he shifted his weight to one side. Grogu cooed softly from his sling, his wide eyes observing the bartering process.

The Aqualish nodded in agreement and walked away to retrieve the speeder keys.

As Din adjusted Grogu in the sling to access his credits, he caught sight of a couple approaching from the earthen road. The man carried a hefty pack on his back, and the woman cradled a baby in her arms. The pride in the man's eyes was evident as he helped his wife walk toward the shops.

"Noona asa mala ta Illa a Irrit!" the shopkeeper, an elderly woman across the street, shouted at them. The couple bowed softly in acknowledgment as they continued walking. Every shop they passed echoed the same foreign phrase, and Din watched with curiosity. Upon reaching the elevator, the man removed his pack, fashioning a makeshift seat for his wife as he started cranking the elevator back up to the top of the landing pad.

The sound of a throat clearing broke Din's concentration. The Aqualish man stood, hand outstretched, waiting expectantly for the payment. Din sighed inwardly, realizing he had been lost in his thoughts. He paid the credits and received the keys to the rusted speeder. Adjusting Grogu in the sling, ensuring the child was safely nestled in his lap, Din ignited the speeder and set off down the only trail leading out of the market.

The only path to the Mountain of Mothers.

—

The pain in your swollen belly intensified as you stood at the base of the last incline leading to the lower pool. The journey had taken a heavy toll on your body, leaving you exhausted and in constant discomfort. Your feet were swollen, your hips ached, and everything hurt, but the cramping in your abdomen was what worried you most. The night before, you had barely managed to rest, opting to lie on the soft ground without bothering with your bedroll. Restlessness had plagued you throughout the night, and now the cramping made it clear that your time was approaching.

Today would be your last day on this arduous journey. The lower pool was just above you, but the pain in your body seemed unbearable. You knew it was all part of the gods' plan for you, but you never expected the pain to be this intense.

As you struggled up the final incline, a sharp pain ripped through you, and you stumbled. Your pack felt impossibly heavy, and your breaths came short. Beads of sweat formed on your brow as a wall of rock loomed ahead of you.

"Itta non a dashi," (I will not die here) you whispered defiantly, mustering the strength from the deepest part of your being. As your emotions surged, you felt the baby shift within you. With renewed determination, you regained your balance, placing a loving hand on your swollen belly.

The next incline lay ahead, one of the most challenging parts of the journey. You could see evidence of past mothers who had slipped or stopped, their bones scattered in the crevices of the rock. For Illa-ishi, like yourself, the task was solitary, without the help of an Irrit to assist with the ascent.

You stood at the base of the rocky cliff, gazing up at the tantalizing promise of the lower pool. The rhythmic thunder of the waterfall beyond the peak urged you forward, swirls of steam rose into the air, a tantalizing promise of the lower pool just a short climb away.

Thankfully, the rugged rock face bore shelves that made the treacherous climb more bearable. Growing up you heard tales of a time a century past when an Irrit, a kind-hearted soul whose manna, a young woman, could not walk. In a display of unwavering determination and love, he took chisel and hammer in hand, carving these sturdy, stone steps into existence. With these ledges, he could secure her safely to his back and ascend the daunting precipice so she could birth their child.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you surveyed the ascent before you. The harsh sun beat down, casting long shadows across the rocky surface. Determination burned in your eyes as you figured out the best plan of action. With a surge of resolve, you slipped the heavy pack from your sweat-covered body, feeling an immediate relief as the oppressive weight fell off you and onto the gritty dirt below.

With your pack discarded, you dragged it to the base of the wall where the first of the man-made shelves jutted out, a mere foot of space cut into the unforgiving rock face. Despite the fatigue gnawing at your muscles, you carefully planted your foot on the ledge, finding just enough space to stand. Bending down carefully you pulled the pack onto the ledge beside your feet. Your birthing gown, gauzy and light, provided a surprising ease of movement. Once you’d made sure the pack was secure you looked up and examined the next shelf. It was a little high of a stretch but you gripped the wall above to steady yourself, your gown billowing slightly with the effort.

Your hips protested with each movement, but the primal instinct to survive drowned out the pain. With staggering determination, you raised your leg, using the hold of the wall to leverage yourself onto the rock shelf to the left. Your arms, weary but unyielding, lifted your body until you were safely on the shelf.

Taking a moment to collect yourself, you glanced back down at the last shelf, now below you. Gathering remnants of your strength, you reached down, hands trembling slightly, and lifted your pack with both arms onto the shelf beside you. Only one more shelf remained, higher up and to your right, a final obstacle before hauling yourself onto the top of the cliff.

After a short rest, you locked eyes with the next shelf, determination burning in your gaze. With a swift motion, you reached up for a gap in the wall to get a grip. Sliding your right hand into the sharp crevice, you pulled with all your might, grunting with effort as you lifted your right leg onto the shelf, which was higher than the last. But in that moment of triumph, a sudden jolt of pain radiated from your lower back all the way to your fingertips, and you lost your hold, a gasp ripping through you.

Stumbling backward, you were saved only by your pack, which you used for leverage to steady yourself. The contraction was fierce, so intense that it was only when you absentmindedly touched the dress covering your belly that you realized you'd sliced your palm on the unforgiving rock. Scarlet red stained your gown, creating an almost perfect handprint. Oddly, you felt no pain in your hand, your senses consumed by the tightening in your abdomen, which worsened with every passing moment.

“Issa non a tishi noona..” (its not time yet baby) you groaned out in pain, your voice strained and breathless. Your eyes clenched shut as you tried to endure the relentless waves of agony.

You stood trembling on the shelf of the wall for a good minute or two before the contraction finally subsided, leaving you panting and exhausted. It was then that the sharp sting in your hand dominated your senses. You examined your hand, the crevice in the wall had sliced deep, and you could see the gash, making your stomach turn uneasily.

Reaching into your pack, you found the medipack, fingers trembling as you carefully opened it to retrieve the gauze and a bacta spray. With great care, you held your injured hand out in front of you and applied the bacta spray to the gash, wincing at the initial sting. Then, you gently wrapped the gauze around the wound, ensuring it was secure. The sharp pain began to dull as your trembling hand capped the spray, carefully returning it to the medipack.

With a sigh, you straightened up, taking a moment to regain your composure. The pain in your hand was no longer the foremost concern, and you couldn't let it distract you from the task at hand. You knew that each moment counted in this climb, and you needed to find the safest route to reach the next shelf.

Reassessing the situation, you examined the uneven rock wall before you, trying to identify the most secure handholds and footholds.

An idea crossed your mind and it could be great, or the worst idea ever and you could fall to your death but you were determined. You carefully maneuver around your pack and push it closer to the end of the shelf. You carefully placed a leg on the pack and then another, standing precariously on your pack which provided you almost a foot of extra height, you used the wall to steady yourself. You prayed to the Gods and reached with your right hand for the crevice that had so rudely marred your hand. Finding more traction with the gauze you confidently pulled yourself extending your right leg so your foot found purchase on the shelf. A victorious smile crossed your face as you then pushed off your pack with your left leg and hoisted yourself onto the shelf. A quiet laugh left your lips as you clung to the wall you were now facing.

Looking to your left, you bent down carefully to grab your pack. This shelf was a lot shorter, jutting from the wall maybe only eight inches. You had to precariously grab your heavy pack with one hand and quickly cram it under your left leg to prevent it from plummeting to the ground below.

You were so close now that you could feel the cool mist from the water above, and the deafening roar of the falls filled your ears. Perched roughly 15 feet above the ground, you took a moment to catch your breath. You dared not look down, fearing that it would disrupt your balance. Instead, you pressed your belly tightly against the rock wall in front of you, your heart pounding with both exertion and anticipation.

After a brief moment of rest, a surge of adrenaline coursed through you. This was it, the final leg of your treacherous journey. You had one more pull, one last push, and you would reach the lower pool, your goal within your grasp. But you also knew that a single mistake could lead to a disastrous fall, a fate you couldn't afford.

Taking a deep breath, you raised your arms above your head, your palms resting on the ridge above. With utmost care and precision, you hoisted yourself up, quickly placing both feet on your pack. The pack provided just enough height to get your elbows onto the smooth rock above. You pulled with every ounce of strength you had, feeling your belly scrape against the unyielding stone as you lifted.

Luck was on your side, as your feet managed to find a foothold through the worn leather of your boot. This newfound leverage allowed you to push yourself up, resembling a sea lion clambering onto a rocky outcrop. With sheer determination and the last vestiges of your strength, you quickly pulled your right leg under you and pushed yourself onto all fours on the smooth rock face. Your heart raced, your hands and knees trembling from the exertion, but you had made it. You had reached the final stretch of your perilous ascent, and the pool ahead awaited, a shimmering reward for your indomitable spirit.

A sob escaped your lips, a surge of emotion you hadn't anticipated as the reality of your accomplishment finally caught up with you. You had done it. You had managed to make it to the lower pool, and the inviting, milky-warm waters beckoned to soothe your weary body. Steam swirled around you, creating an ethereal atmosphere as you lay there, taking in the moment.

Rolling onto your back to face the sky, you watched as a giant silver ship soared high above the mountain. Your eyes followed it for a brief moment before it disappeared into the vast expanse of the blue sky. Tears welled up and trickled down your cheeks, their salty warmth mixing with the refreshing mist from the pool. You felt the gentle movements of the babe inside you and couldn't help but smile through your tears.

"Noona...we made it," you whispered in basic, your hand tenderly caressing your belly. The connection between you and the life within you was stronger than ever, a bond forged through this incredible journey.

After some time, you stirred, realizing that you needed to retrieve your pack. With some effort, the pack proved easier to handle than your own weight combined with the growing life inside you. You unzipped the pack and reached for your bedroll when another sensation, different from the earlier contractions, radiated through your core. This time, it felt like pressure, a clear sign that the moment you had been anticipating was drawing near.

After finding the bedroll, you took a moment to survey the area for a suitable spot to lay it down. The relatively flat rock surface encircling the spring was a dark black, a stark contrast to the frothy blue of the hot spring's waters. The ancient, tranquil pool was surrounded by old, tattered bedrolls, some empty, while others still held the silent remains of Illa-ishi who hadn't been as fortunate as you.

You sighed softly, the weight of the past and the solemnity of the place pressing down on you. You knew what lay beneath the surface of this hot spring – the resting places of those who had undertaken the same treacherous journey but hadn't emerged victorious. Out of respect for their memory, the people of Kith never dared to touch the remains. Instead, they left the bones where they lay, allowing them to become one with the planet's core, a final return to the world from which they had come.

Gently, you found a clear space amidst the bedrolls and laid down your own bedroll. It felt strange to rest among the remnants of those who had gone before you, but you also understood the significance of this place.

It was believed among your people that the Mountain of Mothers was the handiwork of the divine God of Kith, a deity whose love for his wife, Illa-ishi, was as vast as the universe itself.

Illa-ishi’s womb had cradled life for what seemed like an eternity and her body bore the weight of years, while her heart bore the burden of unbearable pain. Witnessing his beloved wife suffer, Kith, with his divine hands, crafted a pool at the mountain's base. Its waters held the promise of relief, a balm for Illa-ishi's agony.

While Kith labored tirelessly to raise the Mountain of Mothers, Illa-ishi, driven by a desperation born of unending torment, embarked on a solitary climb up its slopes. With each step, she ascended toward the heavens, seeking solace that seemed perpetually out of reach.

At the pinnacle of her journey, amidst the tranquil waters of the divine pool, Illa-ishi's child was born. Yet, there was no cry of life, no breath to fill the air. In a heart-wrenching moment, the lonely mother, overcome by despair, embraced the waters that had promised relief. She allowed herself to be consumed, seeking peace in the depths of the pool.

Kith, returning to find his wife and child lost to the pool’s embrace, was consumed by an anguish that eclipsed the stars. In his sorrow, he performed a deed both divine and sacrificial. In a resolute act, he harnessed the remnants of their life force, infusing it with the very essence of his divine being, and breathed life into the creation of the upper pool atop the Mountain of Mothers.

This upper pool, borne from his profound sacrifice, was destined to be a reward for those who completed the arduous journey together. It was a testament to the strength of unity, the enduring love that bound families and lovers, and the rewards that awaited those who surmounted the trials of life.

Yet, even in the splendor of his divine creation, Kith's sadness consumed him. He recognized the fundamental truth that Illa could not always survive, and that Noona may not always breathe. And so, the first pool, at the mountain's base, remained untouched, preserved as a sanctuary of rest and respect. A place where Illa-ishi, and Illa could find solace amidst the beauty of the Mountain of Mothers, where the waters whispered stories of love and sacrifice, and where their weary spirits could find respite beneath the endless expanse of the starlit sky.

In history there was only one illa-ishi who succeeded in birthing a breathing babe at the first pool, and she had birthed an evil so strong it was said to last generations.

You knew your heart, and you knew your babe. You had come here to rest.

—

The hike was hard. Din was breathing heavily under the weight of his armor and the burden of Grogu, who looked around the desolate landscape with a sad curiosity. How many skeletons had they passed? What kind of place was this? Why were you here? The guilt gnawed at him with each step he took. Why had he even gone to seek out pleasure from solitude in the first place? He thought back to that night…

The night was dark and heavy as Din sat alone in the dimly lit corner of the cantina in Mos Eisley, his thoughts consumed by a yearning for Grogu. The scorching sands of Tatooine outside were a harsh reminder of the precious time he had spent here with the child and Peli Motto. They had been moments of sanctuary, where the galaxy's chaos seemed miles away.

Nearly a year had passed since he'd entrusted Grogu to Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, a decision made with the best intentions. But that choice had left a void within him that he could hardly bear. Sleepless nights had become his constant companion, and the craving for both rest and peace had grown unbearable. And yet, he found himself agreeing to help Boba Fett in the midst of a brutal war, a commitment that seemed at odds with his desire for tranquility.

But in that cantina, he made a solemn decision. He had to seek out Grogu one last time, he had to give Grogu the chain mail that he had made for him. Just, as a way to protect him nothing more… He ran his fingers over its cool surface, a gesture that silently conveyed his unbreakable resolve before he pocketed the beskar.

As the night deepened and the alcohol flowed, he realized he had indulged in more Corellian Whiskey than he should have, knowing he needed a clear head for the journey that awaited him. But the whiskey's burn was a welcomed distraction, a temporary escape from the overwhelming pain of missing Grogu.

In the midst of his solitude, the cantina's atmosphere began to change. A group of scantily dressed women, draped in silks and adorned with gold, entered the establishment. They moved with grace and charisma, engaging patrons in conversation, flirting, and distributing holochips for a nearby pleasure house. Din snorted at the thought. When was the last time he even had time to fuck anything but his palm?

When was the last? He wondered trying to think back over the years since he’d acquired the responsibility of caring for Grogu.

Years. Actual, years.

In his inebriated state, Din found himself clutching the holochip, his steps unsteady as he navigated the narrow streets of Mos Eisley towards the establishment advertised on the chip. He had given in to a reckless impulse, fueled by a desire to escape the pain of missing Grogu, and a fleeting sense of excitement at the prospect of companionship, even if it was just for one night. The weight of the impending war, as Boba Fett had described it, loomed in his thoughts, and he couldn't help but wonder if this might be his last moment of solace.

Entering the dimly lit and shady establishment, he was met by a greasy, overweight man berating a young child. The sight of the child sent a wave of unease through him, casting a shadow over his already troubled conscience. What kind of place was this, where children were exposed to such depravity?

"Not for sale!" the greasy man barked at Din, as if reading some unsavory intent in the Mandalorian's eyes, he shielded the child, pushing her back behind a tattered curtain.

“I wasn’t…” Din’s words faltered, the very thought of such exploitation sickening him to his core.

But the foreman, undeterred, eyed Din up and down, his gaze lingering on the gleaming beskar armor. “You’ve got money, I’ve got girls,” the man said, his voice oozing with a repugnant confidence.

Din struggled to find the words, his thoughts a jumbled mess, still reeling from the shock of seeing a child in such a place. He stumbled, his voice faltering.

The foreman, undeterred, went on, "I have a girl who just became available. She's not been with anyone, you'd be lucky to find a deal like her on this side of Tatooine." He reached into a box of hologram pucks, selected one, and placed it on the desk. Activating the hologram, he presented it to Din.

Din's gaze fixated on the static image, his eyes locked on the visage.. Strangely, he felt a deep pull within him, as if your image was both familiar and enigmatic, stirring emotions he couldn't quite place.

"How much?" Din's voice, though filtered through his modulator, held a heaviness, a mix of curiosity and longing.

"Four thousand credits," the foreman stated, avarice evident in his words.

“Four?” Din repeated, incredulous, his disbelief met with a dismissive glance from the foreman. “How much does she get?” he demanded, his tone sharp and unwavering.

The foreman's look turned defensive, his response sharp, "Two thousand. My girls are lucky to get any at all."

Din's resolve hardened, and he leaned in, his voice taking on a threatening edge that he usually reserved for bounties. "I'll pay six thousand, and she gets four thousand."

The foreman's eyes widened, momentarily caught off guard, but a vile smirk soon crept across his face. "Deal. Right this way, sir," he beamed, all too eager to make the transaction.

The foreman led him through a maze of dimly lit hallways filled with disturbing moans and an overpowering, artificial perfume that hung heavily in the air. The cacophony of voices from behind the closed doors was a haunting reminder of the grim reality of this place, and the perfumed scent was a failed attempt at masking the despair that lurked within.

At the end of the corridor, the foreman unlocked a door and gestured for Din to enter. "I'll send her in," he grunted, closing the door behind Din.

Din stumbled into the room, the alcohol coursing through his veins, muddling his thoughts. He took in his surroundings, finding himself in a chamber that seemed a stark contrast to the rest of the establishment. A makeshift bed of luxurious pillows lay on the floor, richly woven tapestries hung from the ceiling, creating a semblance of privacy. Incense burned intensely, casting a hazy atmosphere, a chair rested by the door infront of a towering golden-framed mirror that rest to the right.

This must be a more expensive room, he thought, his mind reeling with the absurdity of it all. He couldn't help but question himself, wondering what he was truly doing here, and if this was the way he wanted to fill the void left by Grogu.

As the room's fakely lavish atmosphere weighed upon him, the door behind him swung open gently. He turned, his movements slow and heavy from his armor, to see you enter. Your form was meek, draped in a light blue silk garment that covered more of your body than the women he had seen in the cantina. Gold metal accents adorned your wrists, ankles, and neck, casting a subtle glow in the dim room.

Din's breath hitched as he observed you, his gaze tracing your figure from your feet to your face. Your flushed face and the nervous way you looked down at the floor beside him made it clear that you were unfamiliar with this line of work. He saw you absentmindedly running your index and middle finger along the material of your flowing skirt.

He couldn't explain it, but something about your vulnerability, the innocence you still carried despite the circumstances, touched him. For a moment, he entertained the thought that the foreman had lied about your experience, but as he watched you in silence, he knew that the greasy man's words were painfully accurate.

Din shifted slightly, causing your gaze to snap to him quickly. His visor concealed his expression, but his body language spoke volumes. He observed for another moment, considering his next move. Slowly, he began to remove his gloves. The process was deliberate, one finger at a time on the right hand of his glove, until he was able to pull it off, revealing his bare hand. His eyes never left yours as he started to work the other glove off, the tension in the room growing palpable.

Your gaze drifted from his visor to his hands, watching intently as the gloves came off. As soon as he removed the gloves, he walked to the chair by the door and set them down gently. Your gaze followed him as he approached, your hand never leaving the doorknob the entire time. It was as if you were waiting for him to make a move, to confirm the fear that had taken root in your heart.

Din stopped a few feet away from you, his gauntleted hand hanging by his side. There was something in his stance, a subtle softening in his normally rigid posture that made you feel he might not be the threat you initially perceived.

He straightened as he turned to face you, extending his tanned and calloused right hand as a peace offering. It hung there in the space between you, a bridge across the vast divide that had separated your worlds. The look you gave him that night pierced through his then-buzzed haze, and as your gaze moved from his visor to the palm of his outstretched hand, you ever so softly smiled.

Your hand moved slowly, with a slight tremble, as you placed it in his. Maker, it was so soft, so... loving. In a way, it reminded Din of his mother's hands. He remembered the feeling of her hands on his face when she would kiss him on the top of his head or brush his hair back. It was a memory buried deep, one he rarely let resurface in the harsh reality of his life.

He watched you, unknowingly holding his breath, as your eyes flitted from his hands back up to his visor.

That night was almost eight months ago, and in the span of those months, the galaxy had shifted beneath Din Djarin's feet. He had fought with Boba Fett, gotten Grogu back, found his covert and embarked on the perilous journey to reclaim Mandalore and his Mandalorian status. The weight of leadership, the responsibilities, and the relentless pursuit of his beliefs had clouded his thoughts, leaving little room for anything else.

As he walked through the dense forest, the guilt that had been gnawing at him grew ever more oppressive. He'd been so preoccupied with his own mission, his people's future, and the legacy of Mandalore that he hadn't even spared a thought in your direction. He had foolishly assumed that the foreman would handle any potential consequences of their night together, perhaps naively believing that you would choose to remain silent. However, what if you hadn't told the foreman? What if you carried something precious from that night, a part of him he was yet to know about? He had neither your name nor any means of contact, and that realization weighed him down like a camtono of beskar.

With every step, the burden of his guilt pressed down upon him, and he mentally berated himself for not knowing your name or sharing his. He deserved this guilt, for in his quest to rebuild his world, he had unintentionally left a piece of himself behind. If you were pregnant, how were you supposed to find him in the vastness of the galaxy? He couldn't shake the thought that he might be a father, and yet he had no way to reach out to you.

Lost in thought and oblivious to his surroundings, Din hadn't even realized that he'd strayed from the trail until a blood-curdling scream pierced through the forest's silence, shattering the walls of his introspection. His eyes darted ahead, and the only thing he saw beyond the thick undergrowth was a rocky precipice. Steam rose from somewhere below, and the scream, unmistakably human, sent a chill down his spine.

—

After doing your best to set up a makeshift camp amidst the unforgiving terrain, the contractions began to increase in intensity and frequency. Drenched in sweat, your body ached with fatigue, and desperation for the comfort of the hot spring surged within you. In your birthing gown, you summoned every ounce of strength to embark on the journey toward the soothing waters.

With slow, measured steps, you made your way to the spring, determined to find solace amidst the throes of labor. The contractions continued to grip you, and you fought to maintain your composure, focusing on deep breaths as you moved closer to the source of relief.

As you neared the milky waters, the soothing sound of the waterfall dumping cool water into the far end of the pool filled your ears. The natural geothermal heat emanated from the earth beneath the water, warming the fresh, chilly stream. You gingerly lowered yourself to the spring's edge, wincing through the persistent contraction that clawed at your strength.

With immense effort, you managed to sit on the edge of the pool, your feet dipping into the perfectly warm water. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as the soothing waters enveloped your aching limbs. Slowly, you eased yourself into the warm embrace of the spring, its shallowness just deep enough for you to sit comfortably, your head above the waterline.

The warmth cocooned you, providing the much-needed respite your weary body craved. In the midst of your struggle, the hot spring became a sanctuary, a place where the pain of labor met the healing balm of nature, and for a fleeting moment, you found solace amidst the turmoil, embracing the precious gift of warmth and comfort in the midst of the wilderness.

You had lost track of how long you sat in the soothing water, your fingers pruning as the serene ambiance of the hot spring washed over you. Contented sighs intermittently left your lips as you found a momentary respite from the relentless contractions. The world around you seemed to blur as the hot spring cradled you in its gentle embrace.

But all too soon, your tranquility shattered like fragile glass. A pained cry tore through the rocky landscape. Your eyes shot open, searching for the source of the distress.

Your gaze darted towards the rugged ridge you had labored to climb mere hours earlier. Two voices reached your ears, one male and one female, carrying on the wind. Panic surged through you as you observed a hand ascending the top of the ridge. Your heart quickened, and you realized there were people approaching, their presence entirely unexpected.

With haste, you sprung up from your spot in the spring, water cascading off your birthing gown as you clambered to the edge of the pool.

A man, seemingly oblivious to your presence, ascended the ridge, a pack strapped to his back. He reached the flat rock and extended his hand below him. Your bare feet met the cold, rough surface of the gravely rock as you hurried over to the edge, your heart heavy with empathy for the woman in dire need. Down below, on the third rock shelf, you saw a woman, her face contorted in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks, and her birthing gown stained with the evidence of her struggles.

“Isa a happis” (I will help!) you called out, your voice resolute, your determination evident. You easily crouched down next to the man, extending your hand to the one who was suffering. She gazed up at you, gratitude filling her eyes as she grasped your outstretched hand.

“Ona tice!” (On Three!) The man standing beside you declared, his voice strong and determined. You locked eyes with him, sharing the gravity of the situation, and both of you prepared to pull the distressed woman to safety. With a shared resolve, he began to count down, and on three, you pulled the woman up with surprising ease, your muscles working in harmony to lift her to safety.

Wide-eyed, she arrived at the top of the landing, blood staining her birthing gown, a visceral testament to the life that sought to enter the world. She cried out in agony, her body in the throes of birthing pains. Your attention shifted to the Illit, his face etched with desperation as he removed his pack, his hands trembling as he tried to assist his manna.

He grabbed her, his touch gentle yet urgent, realizing that there was no time to lose. Even as you watched, you could tell the baby was coming, the process inevitable now. The woman screamed, the sound echoing off the rocky walls, a symphony of pain and life in the midst of nature's raw beauty.

“Noona essa comesei ittina!” (the babe is coming now!) you urgently announce, your voice steady and commanding, as you motion for the father to cease his movements. He gazes at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief, gratitude, and sadness, the emotions palpable in the misty air.

Your own contractions, once so overwhelming, are now distant memories as you shift your focus entirely to the woman and her impending delivery. You position yourself between the woman's legs, and she leans back on her husband for support, the bond of love and trust between them evident in the way they clung to each other during this moment.

With gentle but purposeful hands, you begin to move the gauze of her birthing dress out of the way, revealing the sacred space where the new life is making its entrance into the world. The sight fills you with a profound sense of awe and wonder, the beauty of life in its most raw and unadulterated form.

As you catch the first glimpse of the emerging baby, a smile naturally graces your lips, a radiant reflection of the profound beauty you are about to witness. You look up at the father, sharing a moment of unspoken understanding and connection as you prepare to assist in guiding their child into the world, an act of grace in the heart of nature's splendor.

“Noona essa comesei! Attari noona bassi?” (The baby is coming, the baby cloth?) you urgently conveyed to the father, the intensity of the moment hanging heavy in the air. He blinked, momentarily caught in the whirlwind of emotions before comprehending your words. With careful haste, he gently leaned his wife back, supporting her amidst the agonizing pains as he reached for his pack against the wall.

Desperation etched on his face, he hurriedly threw various items from the bag, scattering them around in his search for the baby cloth. Every passing second felt like an eternity as the mother cried out in pain, her body instinctively bringing forth the baby as your hand supported its head.

Finally, after emptying the entire bag, the Illit father's shoulders slumped in defeat. His frustration boiled over, and he struck the rock wall with his fist, a primal cry of helplessness escaping his lips.

In the midst of this despair, you remained calm, your instincts taking over.

“Asa Passi! Attara noona bassi!” (In my pack! I have the baby cloth!) you shouted at the father, your voice carrying the urgency of the moment. With a quick motion, you pointed to your own pack, signaling where the much-needed baby cloth could be found. Your other hand remained cradling the head of the newborn, offering support and comfort to the laboring mother.

You ran a soothing hand over her leg as she summoned her last ounce of strength, pushing with all her might, and then, in a powerful moment, the babe broke free into the world. The father, having located the cloth meant for your own child in your pack, rushed over, his eyes wide with anxiety. You accepted the plain cloth from him, wasting no time in wrapping the baby in it.

The newborn lay still and silent, not letting out the expected cries that heralded a new life. A sense of despair washed over you, and you shared a helpless glance with the father, both of you fearing the worst.

The mother's wails of agony resonated in the rugged landscape, echoing the heartbreak of a life not granted breath. The anguish in the air was suffocating as she reached for her still baby, her hands trembling. With a heavy heart, you gently transferred the infant to the mother's waiting arms.

She cradled her lifeless child, tears streaming down her face as she caressed the baby, whispering soft words of love and heartbreak. Her cries mingled with those of her husband as they shared the unbearable moment of loss.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tore yourself away from the heart-wrenching scene of the manna. You felt a surge of emotions, a profound sense of hopelessness, reminiscent of the day you had received the news of your own pregnancy.

—

The anguished screams pierced the rugged terrain, reverberating through the rocky expanse, and Din felt his heart plummet through the soles of his boots. Grogu, sensing the turmoil in the air, cooed softly from the safety of his sling, nestled beneath Din's protective hand.

Carefully and quietly, Din approached the edge of the rocky ridge, his heart pounding with trepidation. As he looked down into the precipitous drop-off, his eyes fell upon a scene that nearly froze his heart in his chest.

Down below, amidst the harsh and unforgiving black surface of the rocky cavern, he saw you kneeling, a stoic presence, between the legs of a pregnant woman who was hemorrhaging profusely. The woman's anguished cries filled the cavern, echoing against the unforgiving walls.

Din's eyes then shifted to a man, who appeared to be the woman's partner, desperately rummaging through a pack, panic etched across his face. You spoke urgently in a language Din didn't understand, the words punctuated by fear and sorrow. The man seemed to heed your words and swiftly abandoned his fruitless search, rushing over to another pack that lay nearby. The man retrieved a gray cloth from the second pack and hurriedly approached where you were crouched.

Din observed, his eyes transfixed, as you, kneeling on the rocky cavern floor, expertly assisted the pregnant woman. With a mix of awe and sadness, he saw you pull a beautiful, newborn baby from the crying mother, delicate and fragile in your hands.

His gaze lingered as you carefully, almost mournfully, opened the grey cloth. To his dismay, he recognized the symbol displayed on it – a mudhorn. It was the very same symbol etched onto his own pauldron, the only identifier that you could tie to him. He watched as you used the cloth meant for your child, his child, to wrap the now purple baby in the blanket with meticulous care.

Cries and sobs filled the air as he watched from his hidden spot on the high cliff above. His sounds were likely muffled by the nearby waterfall, but he felt Grogu pulling at him, desperate for attention. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to look away. He continued to watch, hidden in the shadows.

He observed as you struggled to stand, your belly full with his child, and as you respectfully walked away to what he could now confirm as your pack. He could see the pain etched on your face, the tears in your eyes, and he felt a pang of guilt deep within him. The weight of his past actions pressed heavily on his shoulders.

Din had done a lot of things he wasn't proud of; he'd walked a dark and treacherous path. He had hated himself when he handed Grogu over to the client for a camtono of beskar, but now, seeing you here, in this vulnerable moment, he hated himself more than he had ever thought possible.

The symbol on that blanket, the mudhorn, was a reminder of the choices he had made and the lives he had affected. As he watched you cry softly, he knew he couldn't change the past, but he could choose a different path now, one that might bring redemption and peace.

—

Hours passed by as the mother and her lifeless baby lay on the rocky outcrop. The father, now solemn and determined, prepared the pack for their descent. He spared you a thankful glance as he gently helped the mother stand, their shared grief connecting them. With cautious and uneasy steps, they began their descent down the cliffside.

The mother cradled her unbreathing babe, her heart heavy with loss, as she slowly made her way towards you. With some effort, you rose to your feet and met her halfway. Tears welled up in your eyes as she kissed your cheeks in gratitude.

“Illa-ishi, missa.” (Lonely mothers, sisters.) she said mournfully, her words heavy with the weight of shared sorrow. She placed a gentle hand on your belly, a silent acknowledgment of your pain. Overwhelmed by the emotions of the moment, you couldn't hold back a sob, and the two of you embraced tightly. In that moment, she became your sister in grief, and your shared loss bound you together in a way that words couldn't express.

As she and her husband began their descent, you watched them with a heavy heart. The blanket you had intended for your own child now wrapped around her lifeless baby, providing some small comfort in their time of mourning.

Left alone once more, you couldn't hold back your tears as you watched the husband carefully guide his grieving wife down the steep cliff and out of sight. As they disappeared from your view, a profound sense of isolation settled over you, and you wept softly, your heart heavy with sorrow.

Returning to the healing waters, you couldn't help but notice that your contractions had inexplicably ceased. Confused but hopeful, you gently felt around your belly and were met with a delicate, reassuring movement from within. A smile, albeit a tearful one, graced your face as you carefully lowered yourself back into the pool, ready to embrace whatever destiny the Gods had in store for you.

The sun began its descent, casting a warm, golden glow over the landscape. From your elevated position, you had a perfect view of the sky as it transformed into a breathtaking canvas of purple, pink, and orange ribbons. As you smiled to yourself, entranced by the beauty of nature, an unusual sound suddenly pierced the tranquility of the moment, snapping your attention to the cliff edge. Your heart raced as you strained to identify the source of this unexpected disturbance, a sense of both trepidation and curiosity gripping you.

As if by magic, a form suddenly flipped up onto the solid ground level with the pool. A small, green being emerged, making noises that were nearly drowned out by the roar of the waterfall. Yet, an overwhelming feeling of joy washed over you as you beheld the sight of this tiny creature toddling towards you.

Driven by curiosity and amazement, you pushed yourself up and out of the water. Your birthing gown clung to your body as you moved, but you paid it no mind. Stepping onto the rock, you slowly rounded the corner of the pool to greet the small being.

To your astonishment, you realized it was a baby, with wide, innocent eyes and a furious babble. The baby lifted its tiny hands towards you, and you couldn't help but crouch down as best you could, your heart filled with warmth. "Noona?" you asked the little creature with a soft, amused laugh. In response, the tiny being gave you a toothy grin, and it made you laugh even more.

Your attention, however, shifted from the small being to a pair of gloved hands gripping the side of the rocky cliff. Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized those gloves, and heat rushed into your face. With wide eyes, you watched as a figure clad in silver beskar, a Mandalorian, lifted themselves effortlessly over the cliff face and stood there with an almost regal grace.

From your crouched position, you observed as the green baby waddled over to the Mandalorian and tugged on his shin armor. The Mandalorian, with his helmeted face turned towards the child, bent down to pick up the little one, and you couldn't hide the confusion that replaced your initial joy.

—

Din's eyes remained locked on your form as he swiftly pulled himself up onto the flat surface of the cliff. He saw you kneeling down, fingers outstretched towards Grogu, the shock etched across your face. But his gaze was drawn irresistibly to the wet dress that clung to your swollen belly, a stark reminder of your impending motherhood.

As he felt Grogu tugging at his shin armor, he silently bent down to pick up the child. Still, his eyes remained fixed on you, and he struggled to find the right words to explain this unexpected reunion.

“I... I had a dream,” he finally managed to say, his voice choked with emotion.

Your eyes softened, and he witnessed your composure crumbling before him. Your confused and shocked expression melted into a soft frown as tears welled up in your eyes. Before he fully registered it, his feet carried him closer, and he knelt down in front of you with Grogu still cradled in his arms. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, hoping to offer some form of reassurance.

"Please... don't cry," he implored softly, the tenderness in his voice evident. However, he watched as you recoiled from his touch, your reaction sharp and violent, like a wounded animal cornered in fear.

—

"Don't cry," his voice was a gentle whisper from behind as he reached out to sweep your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear with his left hand. His thumb, soft and reassuring, brushed away a solitary tear that had collected in the corner of your eye, preventing it from descending down your cheek.

The cold, unyielding embrace of his armor pressed against your back, a constant reminder of his presence, as if he permeated every inch of the room. You lay face down on the makeshift bed within the opulent suite, placed there by him in silence. His helmet tucked against the back of your head as his right hand reached around the front of your body to work open your tight entrance. He smelled like musk, metal, and something floral.

You didn't know his name, and in truth, you knew very little about him. All you knew was that he had paid a considerable sum for your services and bore a mudhorn symbol on his pauldron. The hushed whispers from the other women in the establishment painted a picture of a bounty hunter, a formidable figure who held the favor of the new Daimyo. He was a source of fear and fascination, and the idea of him both terrified and intrigued you. But, above all, you craved freedom more than anything else, and this was a means to an end.

As the moments unfolded, you couldn't hold back the tears that escaped, mingling with a confusing mix of emotions. It wasn't bad; he wasn't unkind. In fact, you found him surprisingly polite. He had said nothing, just removed his gloves and led you to the makeshift bed, where he now pressed into your body from behind.

It felt fine, maybe even surprisingly good, but your stubbornness held strong. You were determined not to give the foreman the satisfaction of knowing you enjoyed the path you had chosen to earn your freedom. The thought of succumbing to pleasure and surrendering to the moment felt like weakness, and you clung to your resolve with unwavering determination.

However, as his fingers moved softly, so softly, you couldn't help but feel your resistance slowly crumbling. Each touch was skillful, and the sensations they evoked were impossible to ignore.

You could feel a pleasure building within you as he continued his careful thrusting into your tightness. His thick fingers curled slightly as his thumb worked your clit. His left hand rests by your head as he made sure to move any hair out of your face. You had no idea if he was watching you through his visor, but you had assumed so because he wiped your tears and told you not to cry. The build up turned into a tightness that needed to be released, he could tell by how hot you’d gotten under him and how your walls fluttered on his fingers.

He felt a pride well up in him at the knowledge that he still had the ability to bring a woman pleasure but also that you’d finally relaxed enough to allow yourself to feel this. He closed his eyes for a moment just to focus on how your walls felt around his fingers, he willed himself to listen to your body. Upon each drawback of his fingers he worked to spread your tight cunt just slightly- three, four, five more thrusts of his fingers and he felt you tremble under him.

His eyes snapped open, and he observed you biting your hand to stifle any sounds. He felt the flutter of your walls on his fingers as he stilled in order to relish in the feel your softness. He watched you come back from wherever you had gone in your high, his hand moving gently to caress the hand you had bitten, the teeth marks already leaving a faint purplish hue. As his thumb brushed over the marked area, he felt the slight tremor in your body, your vulnerability laid bare, and saw the glistening tears welling up in your eyes once more.

“Don’t cry.” he said again before moving to sit back on his heels. He admired your form, the way the flame lit room made your skin look like silk. You were totally bare to him, he’d undressed you slowly and carefully placed your clothing next his gloves on the chair. He was still fully clothed save for the gloves he’d removed. He watched as your form began to stir, and he carefully placed a hand on your lower back to keep you down. You immediately complied. With a sigh he slowly ran his hand down your back to the curve of your ass and to the back of your thigh. He could see the slick from your arousal glimmering in the soft light.

He could see everything, every intimate part of you, and yet he didn’t allow you the joy of seeing him. He couldn’t.

You sat, staring at the wall ahead of you, the seconds feeling like hours, with him seated behind you. The situation was embarrassing, and you could only hope he wasn't disgusted. You had assumed he was finished with you after whatever had just happened, only to be gently pushed back onto the bed, not harshly but rather in a silent, pleading manner. After a moment, you heard him stir behind you, and you froze, your ears attuned to his every movement.

You heard a soft rustling of fabrics and buckles. He came to rest on you again, with his left hand resting by your left hand. His right hand gripped your waist as he shifted you back towards him. This position shifted you more so your backside was resting against his thighs while your chest was flush with the pillows beneath you. He was able to bend over you more like this so he comfortably rested on his left arm above you.

His right hand left your waist and you felt the warmth of his hand in between your legs. You could feel the soft head of his hard cock turn to velvet as he ran it through your slick folds. You clenched the pillow underneath you as you braced yourself for the pain the other women had told you about. You felt pressure against your entrance and instinctively you tried to move away only to feel his hand move like lightning from between your thighs to your waist as he anchored you in place.

He didn’t say anything just held you there as he slowly pushed the head of his cock deeper into your entrance. His grip once iron on your waist turned soft as his thumb brushed circles into the skin there. Slowly he sank deeper and that’s when you felt it, the sharp uncomfortable sting. You tensed under him at the pain and you felt him freeze above you. His left hand moved to grab your face beneath him, turning your cheek so he could see you. You looked over your left shoulder to peer up at him, his cold visor returning your gaze. You couldn't help the tear that fell as you clutched the pillows.

"Don't..." his voice was strained through the vocoder, and you knew he was holding back, for you.

—

"Do not say that to me!" Your pained and thickly accented voice ripped through the air as you swatted his arm away. The green child yelped softly at your sudden movement.

Din's eyes widened. It was the first thing you had said to him. You hadn't spoken a word that night. He recoiled from you in shame.

He watched as you cried, emotions swirling within him like a chaotic storm.

"You shouldn't be out here," he managed to say as he stood abruptly, his words tinged with a mixture of concern and frustration. He glanced around, finally taking in the grim surroundings. Blood still pooled on the rocky ground where the woman had given birth earlier. Even worse, the remains of skeletons lay strewn about, their shattered bones mixed with the gravel under his boots.

"This is a graveyard, not a place for a woman in your condition to give birth," he grumbled, regretting the harshness of his words. The eerie desolation of this place was overwhelming, and he couldn't make sense of anything. The grim reality of death and birth intertwined in this forsaken corner of the galaxy was too much for him to bear.

Your face, your soft, beautiful, and glowing face looked up at him then.

"This is where I am meant to be," your broken voice hit him right in the chest.

For a moment, Din just stood there, his helmeted gaze locked on you. Grogu stirred in his arms and he set the child down. His gaze shifted from Grogu to the pack leaning against the rocky wall, the very same pack he had seen a man carrying at the market, with his wife in tow. It was the same pack he had witnessed being carried by the man who was desperate, carrying his bleeding wife. The pieces of the puzzle began to click into place in Din's mind.

"Did you... carry that alone?" he asked, his curiosity piqued as he looked from you to the pack and back.

You huffed, annoyance coloring your features, and moved to stand. Din instinctively reached out to help you, but you swatted his hand away. You stood, resolute, and locked eyes with him through his visor.

"Yes. I am illa-ishi," you declared firmly, your words laden with meaning.

Din furrowed his brow, confused by the unfamiliar term. "Illa-ishi?" he repeated, the word alien to him.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realized he didn't understand. "I am a lonely mother," you tried to find the right words that could translate to Basic.

He continued to stare, his helmet giving away nothing. You huffed in frustration and attempted again, simplifying your words. "I am alone." you finally settled on, hoping he would grasp the essence of your situation.

Din just stared at you, seemingly uncomprehending. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and the green child peered up at you, as if offering a sympathetic glance. Frustrated with the language barrier, you turned to walk towards your pack and bedroll.

As you began to walk away, Din's gloved hand gently gripped your upper arm, stopping you in your tracks. You shot an annoyed look back at him, silently demanding an explanation for his actions.

Din's gloved thumb moved soothingly circles on your arm, his gaze locked on you. He took a moment to search for the right words, his voice barely rising above a gravelly whisper.

"Is...is this mine?" he questioned, his words weighted with uncertainty, his voice low and husky.

Your eyes fixated on his hand caressing your arm, and tears welled up again, threatening to break free. You bit your lip in a futile attempt to hold them back, forcing yourself to look directly into the reflective visor of his helmet. You saw your own tear-streaked face in the cold, mirrored surface of the Mandalorian's armor, and it was a sight that turned your stomach.

"Yes. I've... never been with another. Only you," the confession tumbled from your lips, the words feeling strange and heavy in your mouth. Your body tensed, and you felt a sudden, sharp tightness envelop you, a contraction, your first since the bleeding mother had shown up. You gasp in agony as your knees buckle under you.

"Dank farrik!" Din's initial worry had given way to frustration as he cursed under his breath. He reached out and grabbed you, his gloved hands steadying you gently while Grogu made a sad noise from his perch on the ground.

"We have to get you out of here. Is there a medcenter near here?" His voice trembled with desperation as he crouched down to meet your gaze.

"What?!" You hissed exasperatedly through the pain, your frustration and agony making you bristle.

"Medcenter!" Din almost yelled, and his eyes widened when you shoved him away.

"Issa noona ibaniss a plantissia ata mountina as illa! As illa a ma a iss!" you shouted at him in anguish, your words foreign to his ears but laced with undeniable determination. (My baby will be born on this planet, at the Mountain of Mothers, like my mother and the one before her!)

Din stood there, still as stone, as your scream washed over him.

He looked at you, his gaze falling to your trembling hands, one of them wrapped in blood-soaked gauze. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady himself and regain control.

He was going about this the wrong way. You had climbed the treacherous cliff, your cloth bore the sigil of the Mudhorn, and your pack was identical to the ones the men had carried. You had a well-thought-out plan; he just hadn't been part of it.

With newfound determination, he approached you, taking careful, measured steps. Kneeling down beside you, he spoke softly, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"How do I help you?" he asked, his words breaking through the haze of pain that enveloped you.

You slowly looked up at him through your tears, your eyes locked onto his helmet. For a moment, you were at a loss for words, your mouth slightly ajar as you processed the situation. With a trembling hand, you pointed towards the spring nearby. "Take me there," you said softly, your voice heavy with the weight of your suffering.

In an instant, Din's strong hands found purchase under your knees and behind your back, and he lifted you with great care, not wanting to cause you any harm. You flushed with the ease of him carrying you, a thought flickering across your mind of how much simpler scaling the cliff might have been if he had been there. But you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, focusing on the immediate task at hand. You wrapped your left arm around the back of his neck and placed your right hand protectively over your belly, the hard surface of his armor uncomfortably pressing against your side as he carried you toward the inviting hot spring.

"I can go from here," you said in thick, broken Basic, attempting to wiggle out of his grasp.

Din regarded you, confusion clear in his eyes as he tried to understand. His gaze alternated between the steaming water and your face. "You want to go in the water?" he asked, as if seeking confirmation.

"Yes, I can go from here," you repeated, pushing against him with a touch of defiance. His grip tightened, surprising you with its strength, and you nearly yelped in response. Shooting him a displeased look, you tried to assert your independence.

"What, and let you slip?" he asked, gazing at you through his visor before looking ahead. "No." He had made up his mind, and there was no arguing with the Mandalorian's decision.

As you were lowered into the hot spring, the initial shock of the water's heat gave way to a soothing relief. Din was surprised by how inviting it felt, and he understood why pregnant women sought refuge in such places. The water enveloped his boots and rose just above his knees as he carried you into the pool. You held onto him with a newfound intensity as he descended, afraid that he might lose his footing. Your disbelief mixed with gratitude as you realized the extent of his support.

Finding solid ground beneath the water, Din gently released your knees, allowing your feet to dip into the warm embrace of the pool. His hand slid from your back to your waist, ensuring your stability, and he positioned himself behind you in the water. You stood just below his chin, and if he desired, he could easily rest his chin on your head. His right hand remained on your waist, his gloved fingers splayed out on your side, providing you with a reassuring and protective presence.

A powerful surge of emotion overcame Din as he felt the subtle movements of the life within you under his fingertips. He stood there, motionless and transfixed, as you faced away from him, both of you submerged in the comforting warmth of the spring. His eyes traced the contour of your back, the gentle rise and fall as you breathed, and then slowly, as if compelled by an invisible force, he found himself resting his forehead against the back of your head, his helmet touching your soft hair.

He grappled with where to place his left hand, uncertain of the right way to provide comfort. His gaze drifted downwards, fixating on the water where he saw your dress floating softly as it began to soak in the pool. Carefully, he moved his left hand to the small of your back, gripping the back of your waist with a gentle touch.

In the midst of his turmoil, a soft, barely audible sob escaped his lips, and tears welled up inside his helmet, tracing their way down his cheek. "I'm sorry," he uttered, his voice broken and full of guilt. It was a plea for forgiveness, an attempt to convey the overwhelming regret that consumed him. He clung to your form, feeling the life inside you, the life he had a part in creating and then abandoned.

His wallowing in self-recrimination was shattered by the sound of your voice and the tender touch of your hand as it caressed his right hand.

"Don't cry," your words were soft and filled with sincerity. In that moment, as the tears flowed within his helmet, you offered him understanding and forgiveness. He felt worthy of neither.

#din djarin x pregnant reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin #mando #the mandalorian #mando x reader #star wars #star wars the mandalorian #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

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natalchartnurtures · 2 months

Text

PAC: How can you wear your "Big Boy" pants right now?

Sometimes we need reminders that we can in fact, be "big boys" in our lives and take responsibility to change what we don't like about our lives. Happy reading!

_________________________________________________________

Pile 1:

There's a lot you CAN do. In fact, you have been doing a lot by yourself, weathering proverbial storms all on your own. Unfortunately, you haven't been conscious enough to acknowledge all the effort you've been putting in to simply push through. Let me be the one to give you the kudos you deserve, Pile 1. You've been doing way more than you think, albeit these are mostly internal efforts (like maintaining a headstrong attitude in the face of a challenge). You currently feel challenged to take active steps in your external life, though. You might find it hard to apply things you learn to your life or simply lack the discipline to see your (quite excellent) plans through. You need to be reminded that you do have the free will to choose to make all your plans come to life :) You have what it takes, sweetie; you really do.

Bonus - How do you need to go about it? One thing that can EASILY help you execute your plans is to bring in help (trigger warning though). You all seem Independent AF, and I get it, sweets. With everything you've been doing, of course, you can handle anything, but you definitely need some support too right now. Especially if you struggle with something like discipline (or whatever challenge you're facing right now). Bringing in even just ONE person (or multiple) to help hold you accountable to your plans, with compassion, would help you a lot (that person/people don't have to be real too; you could bring in a bot from an app or AI, I don't care) as long as you feel like you have a buddy, you know? Somebody who makes you feel like your plans matter. It's an excellent way to pour into yourself right now and show yourself some TLC ✨️ You deserve to make your plans a reality and have a bit of fun on your path towards it.

Love, light, and hugs!

_________________________________________________________

Pile 2:

Doing things your way and rejecting convention might be a BIG step for you, to be honest, but it's well worth it, Pile 2. Celebrate yourself, basically. Slow down and enjoy yourselves a little bit. Maybe you've been living your life BY THE BOOK so far, and now you're going to put your big boy pants on by letting loose and doing things differently for once. You're not abandoning yourself and your needs nearly as much anymore, and so you're quite stable in your own skin as a result. That's really impressive, Pile 2! You have lived in fear (possibly a fear of failure), and I'm sensing some mommy wounds maybe? This is where your fear stems from, and this fear has kept you from really truly living. You might identify as a workaholic too. Maybe you prefer to keep yourself busy as a coping mechanism to ward off any feelings of anxiety. This has a direct correlation to childhood wounds of yours. So put your big boy pants on and put an end to conforming to standards that don't respect you and what you stand for, Pile 2.

Bonus - How do you need to go about it? I feel like this pile needs extra guidance on how to exactly wear their big boy pants. Start by acknowledging that you do have wounds from childhood, specifically those from female (motherly) figures, if not your mother herself. Take a radical approach to your healing journey right now. Look into the concept of mothering yourself and come up with customized ways to do just that. You got this, Pile 2 :)

Love, light, and hugs!

_________________________________________________________

Pile 3:

It seems like you've already been wearing your big boy pants, Pile 3. Good job! Looks like you've been on a healing journey, and you're now at a point in life where you can reap the benefits of all the inner work you've done. You've reached a level of mastery over the mind, and now it's time to make room to tend to your heart. You need something that your authority figures couldn't give you readily, and that's unconditional compassion. Show yourself kindness even when things don't go as you'd like them to. Hold yourself through the thick and thin of life, as you would a child. This should open up a brand new way of living and viewing life that you never thought possible. It has always been waiting for you and your attention. Nurture yourself on a whole new level and be ready to receive 10X from the universe. You're going to feel so spoiled, I love it, haha! 😄

Love, light, and hugs!

_________________________________________________________

#PAC #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a picture #tarot reading #practical spirituality #astrology community #spirituality #spiritualgrowth #tarotcommunity #divination #tarot cards #tarot witch

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in1-nutshell · 14 days

Text

Bot Buddy the Dinobot who has a crush on Bumblebee

SFW, Platonic, Slight Romance, Cybertronian reader

Buddy was created as one of the original dinobots.

She was the team’s scout/medic in training.

She is very curious about the other autobots and humans.

“Friend Chip, Buddy has question.”--Buddy

“Sure, what is it Buddy?”--Chip

Buddy points at his face.

“What are those on face?”--Buddy

“Oh, these are glasses. They help me see things.”--Chip

Buddy tilts her helm a bit.

“Chip, not see?”--Buddy

“I can see a bit, but these help me see things better.”--Chip

“Chip optics need repair? Buddy help! Buddy help! Chip wait here, Buddy get med kit! Buddy help friend Chip!”—Buddy

Later…

“Powerglide. Why Astoria call you ‘Baby--”--Buddy

“How about we stop talking.”--Powerglide

She has a bot of the week she follows, usually it’s at random. No one knows who the lucky bot will be. There isn’t much room for rejection as they don’t want to deal with an angry Grimlock.

There is one bot however, that sees more of Buddy than any other bot on the Ark.

Bumblebee.

It was a common sight to see the larger dinobot trailing behind the smaller yellow minibot, like a duckling following its mother.

Bumblebee did find it a bit strange how Buddy hung out around him much more than the others, but he wrote it off as her being herself.

Plus, it was almost a guarantee for back up in case any Cons decided to show up!

Starscream pointing his null ray at Bumblebee.

“Too late Autobot! For I, Starscream, have finally—AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!”--Starscream

Buddy jumps at the Seeker and clamps her jaw on his servo.

“Thanks Buddy!”--Bumblebee

Buddy turns and gives him a proud smile before going back to beat up Starscream.

Jazz and Prowl walk up behind Bumblebee.

“Gotta hand it to ya Bee, you sure know how to pick ‘em.”--Jazz

“What do you mean?”--Bumblebee

“What do you mean? You and Buddy being--”--Prowl

SLAM!

The three Autobots look over at Buddy body slamming Starscream to the ground.

“She the best friend a bot could ask for!”--Bumblebee

“…”--Prowl

“…”--Jazz

Everyone and their cat know that she has a thing for Bumblebee.

Bets have already been placed on who will confess and how.

Even Grimlock knows!

The Dinobot leader approves of the relationship and wants Buddy to confess already. He doesn’t push Buddy to confess, but rather strongly suggests the idea because this is killing him.

Grimlock, Wheeljack, Prowl and Jazz watch Buddy listening to Bumblebee ramble about his outing with Spike.

She has a lovesick look on her face plate.

“How can he not see her making ‘gushy’ optics at him?”--Jazz

“Gushy?”--Grimlock

“Human term big guy.”--Wheeljack

“Didn’t you finally have that talk with her about confessing?”--Prowl

“Yes.”--Grimlock

“Is she going to do it?”--Prowl

“No.”--Grimlock

“Why?!”—Wheeljack, Prowl, and Jazz

“Buddy says ‘Not time’. Grimlock respect Buddy decision.”--Grimlock

“Wha—That’s actually very thoughtful of you Grimlock.”--Wheeljack

Grimlock puffs his chassis a bit at the compliment.

Buddy giggles a bit at something Bumblebee said.

“Maybe the suffering will end soon…”—Jazz

“Doubt that at this rate…”--Prowl

#transformers x reader #maccadam #bot buddy #g1 transformers #transformers g1 #g1 transformers x platonic reader #g1 transformers x reader

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michaela-o · 5 months

Text

How do you think Cybertronians would react to human fights like these?

Bloody, bruised, scratched, bitten, battered etc.

I like to think that most Cybertronians will always see humans as animals with their animalictic instincs hidden deep inside only coming out when really needed. Cause you see when Cybertronians fight they usually just use their guns or fists or any tactical fight but that’s it from what i saw in comics and here you have humans who fight with everything they have , no tactic at all just using their natural weapons (teeth, nails) to inflict as much damage as possible until the other gives up or worse. Ends up fatal.

Overall i think Cybertronians would find this type of human fights very bizzare, unsettling and animalistic. The wild look in their eyes is what would usually get them to stop and think how can something so small and soft yet be so wild and violent. Maybe it would even make some bots understand why ,whatever god, made them small. Maybe after a bot witnessed such fight they would be glad humans aren’t as big as Cybertronians. Maybe it would change a bot’s whole mindset about humans being just cute little pets and that they are actualy very dangerous beings. And they don't even know about the adrenaline in humans.

Oh god and don’t get me even started about a mother bear protecting her child.

Ah it feels so good letting my thoughts free :3❤️❤️ please if you have anything to say feel free to reply to this post because i would love to hear your thoughts about this <3

Also this drawing was just me practicing dynamics when this came to my head😭❤️

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corroded-hellfire · 1 year

Note

Well, since it's this weekend… what about Ryan and Luke giving their favorite baby-sitter something for Mother's Day? Either after Eddie officially gets the girl, or before… I bet Brittany would loooove to find out that her kids made something for Mother's Day in school, and gave it to the baby-sitter instead of her. 😏

I love, love, love this. @munson-blurbs and I came up with a little sweet and spicy tale. Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there except Brittany 😘

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral f!receiving, mild choking, Eddie’s breeding kink is loud and proud

Words: 4k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Okay, next we need a cup of water.” Eddie hands the glass measuring cup to Ryan, nodding towards the sink. “Fill ‘er up and then—carefully—dump it in the bowl.” Ryan does as he’s instructed, and Eddie proceeds with the recipe. “Now, Luke, you’re going to gently mix it all together.”

Luke takes the directions a bit too seriously, circling the spoon around the bowl at a painstakingly slow pace. “Like that?” he asks proudly.

“Liiiiittle faster, bud,” Eddie says, holding his thumb and forefinger apart slightly to emphasize his point. “I’d like to get these made before Father’s Day.”

Once the waffle batter is completely combined—Eddie had to help out before the milk curdled—he ladles it into the waffle iron, inhaling the cozy scent of homemade waffles. It’s what he’s always wanted: family dinners where he and his boys cook. Getting to spoil his girl with love and breakfast food.

His girl. He still can’t believe that you’re his girl.

“Did you guys make anything for Mom at school today?” Teachers usually have the kids do some sort of Mother’s Day craft, and Eddie wants to make sure that it gets to Brittany before she can accuse him of withholding her gifts.

Ryan and Luke share a look that Eddie is unable to decipher. “Um, nothing?” Ryan says meekly, though it comes out as more of a question.

Eddie frowns. “No art project this year? Not even a macaroni necklace?” He sets the timer and leans back on the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Neither of you?”

“No, we did,” Ryan admits, “but we were talking, and…we don’t wanna give them to Mom.”

“Yeah,” Luke chimes in, an unmistakable smirk spreading across his face, “we wanna give them to your giiiiiiirlfriend!”

“Luke!” Ryan scolds, but his eyes tell Eddie that he had the same idea. “Is that okay?” he asks his dad.

Eddie nods. “Of course. I think she’ll love that.” He starts to wipe down the counter before turning back to his boys. “You still need to give Mom the gifts that we bought her, yeah?” Not that she deserves them, he thinks bitterly, but she’ll have my head on a platter if they come over empty-handed.

“Okay,” Ryan says as he puts the milk back in the refrigerator. “And the cards we bought, too.”

“Oh! And we made cards to go with our gifts tonight!” Luke adds.

“Did you now?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows at his youngest son. “You got a future working for Hallmark?”

“Daddy, you know I’m going to be a monster truck driver.”

“Right, how could I forget?”

A key turns in the lock of the front door and an instant smile appears on Eddie’s face. Ever since he’d given you the key to his apartment, he’s been locking the door more just because the sound of you unlocking it when you come over makes him happy. Both boys scurry in that direction and Eddie follows behind at a leisurely pace.

You’re barely able to put your keys back in your bag before being enveloped in two sets of small arms.

“Oof!” You toss your bag over on the closest chair and wrap your arms around the boys. “This is a nice welcome. Ooh, and what smells so good in here?”

“Happy Mother’s Day!” both boys cheer.

It takes you a moment to realize that they’re saying those words to you. They are wishing you a happy Mother’s Day.

“W-What?” you ask, slightly stunned.

“We won’t see you on Sunday, so we wanted to have Mother’s Day with you now!” Luke says as he takes one of your hands in both of his.

“Yeah!” Ryan agrees. “And we made your favorite breakfast for dinner. Waffles! Daddy helped.”

“Helped?” Eddie mumbles under his breath, but it goes unnoticed by both kids.

“This is so sweet,” you say, the wide array of emotions hurtling through you. Dropping to your knees, you tug the Munson children against your body so that you can give them a proper hug. “I love you boys so much.”

“We love you, too,” Ryan says.

“Let’s go get the presents,” Luke says to his brother.

“Ah-ah, not until after we eat,” Eddie pipes up.

Luke sighs and lolls his head in the direction of his father. “We can’t just go get them?”

“Fine, go ahead. There’s about to be some kissing anyway, and I don’t think you wanna see that,” Eddie teases. It works. The boys head down the hall to their rooms and as soon as you get back up on your feet, Eddie pulls you into his embrace. “Hey there, gorgeous.”

“Hi, handsome,” you say as you loop your arms around his neck. Tilting your head up, your mouth catches against your boyfriend’s and you sink into the kiss. A loud rattling noise and a shout of I’m okay has the two of you breaking apart. “Was this your idea?”

“Nope,” Eddie says, popping the “p.” He rubs his hands up and down your back as he gives you a smile that’s full of pride in his sons. “They asked me just yesterday if we could do this—have the waffles for dinner. And I didn’t know about the gifts until about two minutes before you walked in.”

“I’m getting spoiled tonight,” you muse, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek. You start to walk towards the table, but he pulls you back to him.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he murmurs in your ear, squeezing your ass. “As soon as they leave, I’m going to—”

“Is dinner almost ready?” Luke whines as he thunders into the room. “I’m starving!”

Eddie races to him, crouching down and placing one hand on either of Luke’s shoulders. “Do you think you’ll make it?! Hang on, Luke! Don’t go into the light!” He ruffles his son’s curly hair. “Yeah, it’s ready. Go sit down at the table.”

Luke giggles as he takes his seat, and Ryan trails behind him.

“How was school?” you ask them, putting waffles on plates and setting them at their places. “Learn anything new?”

Luke nods enthusiastically. “My friend Todd bounced a hot dog on the ground at lunch, and it almost touched the ceiling!”

Eddie shrugs. “I guess that’s science, kind of? What about you, Ry? Conduct any food experiments?”

“No, but we started learning about fractions today,” Ryan says, taking a bite of his dinner. “It was tricky at first, but then I got it.”

“That’s my boy!” Eddie high-fives him. “Munsons don’t give up when things get tough.”

“Is that why you took senior year three times?” you tease him, and his jaw drops in mock offense.

“Hey, Daddy?” Luke interrupts, grabbing the syrup bottle and positioning it over the waffle and drenching it in the sticky-sweet sauce. “Can we do presents now?”

“When dinner’s over,” Eddie reminds him, taking the bottle before Luke can empty it. “And, no, that’s not permission to shove the entire waffle in your mouth at once.”

“Fine,” he concedes, turning his attention to you. “So, who’s your favorite: me or Ryan?”

You shake your head, cutting your waffle into neat little squares. “I can’t answer that. I love you both equally.” You glance at your boyfriend for confirmation, but of course, he’s no help.

“That means you must fight for her love and affection!” he roars, deepening his voice to a raspy growl. “Men, grab your armor!”

You roll your eyes at his antics, but there’s a smile on your face the whole time.

Unsurprisingly, Luke is the first one finished with his food. He sits in his chair, fingers beating a rapid rhythm against the tabletop. The patience of a five-year-old can only go so far, though. Eddie tries to hold in a chuckle because it looks like his youngest is near wetting himself.

“Okay,” Eddie caves with a sigh. “Get your presents ready.”

“Yes!” Luke cheers as he grabs his gift and the homemade card made of red construction paper. Eddie stands and clears away the plates while both boys take a seat on either side of you with their respective presents. “Mine first!” Luke slides his towards you.

First, you pick up the card and grin at the flower smiling back at you on the cover. On the inside, Luke has written in his adorable boyish handwriting: “Happy Mother’s Day! I 🖤 you! Love, Luke.” You ruffle Luke’s curls and press a kiss to his forehead.

“Here’s the gift I made.” Luke points at it. Picking it up, you see it’s a Shrinky Dink that Luke has written his name on and someone—presumably the teacher, put it on a key ring.

“This is perfect!” you exclaim as you look over your new keychain. “I use my keys every time I drive or have to get into my house, so I’ll always see your name and think of you.”

Luke grins and throws his arms around your neck. You chuckle and maneuver him into your lap so he’s not hugging you from an uncomfortable angle.

“Thank you, Luke.”

“Now me!” Ryan hands you his card, designed on purple construction paper. It says: “I am happy that your with Daddy now because that means I see you more and I like seeing you. Happy Mother’s Day! I love you! Ryan.”

“That is very sweet, Ryan.”

“Thanks! This is what I made you,” he says. A heavy lump of what you can only assume is clay is placed in your hands. Tilting it to inspect the blue ceramic piece, you realize it’s the shape of a hand. Ryan’s hand, to be more specific. His handprint has been molded into a small ceramic dish. “It’s for jewelry! To hold it.”

“Oh, that’s perfect! I’m going to put it right next to my bed for when I take my jewelry off at night.”

“It’s like I’ll be holding it,” Ryan says with a giggle.

“I know it’s in safe hands then,” you say, reaching over to boop his nose. “Thank you both for the thoughtful cards and gifts. I’m very lucky and grateful for you two.”

“Ahem,” Eddie cuts in with a dramatic throat clear. “No love for me? I’ll have you know that I’m the only one here who knows how to use the waffle iron, thank you very much.”

“You’re right,” you sigh, but when he leans in for a kiss, you just boop his nose as well. “Here, let me get the dishes.” You stand up to start towards the sink, but he playfully tugs you back down.

“Not a chance,” he says with a wink. “The Munson men are on it! Boys, I’ll need all hands on deck.”

Luke and Ryan begrudgingly follow their dad, dragging their feet as they walk to where Eddie’s flicking on the faucet and rinsing the dirty dishes. “Can we at least listen to music?” Luke grumbles, grabbing the sponge.

“Can you ask that without whining?” Eddie nudges him, but his tone is serious. “Try again.”

Luke plasters a giant fake smile on his face. “Can we please listen to music?” he asks.

“Of course, my wonderful, perfect second-born.” Eddie goads, clicking the dial to his usual rock station.

And when she knows what

She wants from her time

Your head perks up and your eyes widen at the familiar Billy Joel song. Eddie throws you a grin over his shoulder before stepping back from the sink and wiping his hands off on a towel.

“Our song, baby,” he says, holding out his hand as he approaches where you’re sitting. “Boys, take over. Ryan wash, Luke dry.”

“I thought this was a Munson man chore,” Luke grumbles, which Ryan nudges his brother’s shoulder for.

“Shut up,” Ryan hisses under his breath.

Luke huffs and snatches the towel up from where Eddie tossed it on the counter. “What does that mean?” he asks his older brother. “That it’s ‘their song.’”

Ryan chuckles as he grabs a plate and holds it under the water. He looks over at the two of you and watches as Eddie practically yanks you out of the dining chair until your chest is pressed up against his.

“It’s the song they smoochy-smooch to,” Ryan says.

Luke spins around to look at the pair of you as well, making kissy noises as he awaits a plate to dry.

“I’d start washing those dishes unless you want to see us start smoochy-smooching,” Eddie calls, never taking his eyes off of you. You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him even closer.

“Maybe I wanna smooch now,” you say, batting your eyelashes at him. Eddie doesn’t hesitate to fill your request. He leans in and just as his lips are about to brush up against yours, there’s a jarring knock on the front door.

“I’ll get it!” Luke shouts, taking any opportunity he can to get away from the dishes.

“Good,” Eddie mumbles before stealing a kiss from you anyway. Just as you tilt your head up to continue the kiss, an irritating ahem sounds from behind you.

Turning your head, you have to fight to keep the sneer off your face when you see who’s standing there.

“Mom’s here,” Luke calls to Ryan as he jogs back into the kitchen.

“Hello, Brittany,” you say, sidling up next to Eddie. You go to grab his hand in yours and he’s quick to give it a reassuring squeeze. Play nice for the sake of the boys, you tell yourself. Those seem to be the only semi-pleasant words that ever go through your head when she’s around.

“Hi,” Brittany says, the words somehow sounding like a scoff.

“Boys,” Eddie says, forgoing greeting his ex-wife altogether. “Go get your backpacks and the gifts you bought for Mom.”

The mention of gifts has a slight smirk appearing on the bitchy blonde’s face, and you can hardly say you’re surprised. As materialistic as she is, she’s probably more interested in seeing what she’s getting than seeing her own children. Eddie had already told you what the boys had picked out at the store and all you could hope was that Brittany was able to fake enough enthusiasm so as not to hurt the boys.

Luke emerges from his room first. He puts his bag down on the table and picks up the keychain and jewelry holder that you had gotten from them. “Mom, look what we made!”

“Good job. Thank you.” She couldn’t sound less excited if she tried. But you don’t care because you know Luke is about to correct her.

“Oh. No, your gift is in my backpack. These aren’t for you.”

Brittany’s face hardens into steel, the forced smile looking more like a disfigured grimace than anything. Come on, look up at me, you think to yourself with a gleeful smile on your lips. Eddie tugs on your hand and you glance over to see him wearing a matching grin of satisfaction.

Ryan comes in as Luke puts your gifts back on the table, and Brittany’s head finally lifts. You swear you can literally see her face turning red as she locks eyes with you. You raise an eyebrow slightly, as if saying, yeah, that’s right. Those are for me.

“Whatever,” she spits, ushering the boys out of the apartment. “Pick them up Tuesday night. Don’t be late.”

Before she can slam the door behind her, Ryan and Luke call out to you, “Happy Mother’s Day!” You can see her entire body clench with anger.

As soon as she’s gone, Eddie lets out a huge exhale.

“You okay?” you ask, pressing your chest against his and resuming your position. You can feel his heart beating, and it’s immediately soothing.

Eddie nods slowly. “Yeah, she doesn’t really bother me anymore. ‘S just…” he pauses, searching for the right words, “...I hate not being with them, y’know? And I hate having to send them to their mom’s when they’re happier here. But what am I gonna do, tell her that she can’t have them on Mother’s Day?”

“You’re doing the right thing,” you murmur, rubbing his bicep comfortingly. “And once custody is figured out, I know you’ll be able to see them more. Those boys absolutely adore you.”

He tilts your chin upwards and kisses you, softly and gently. “They adore you, too,” he says with a small chuckle. “I had to convince them to buy stuff for Brittany and not you.”

Your jaw drops, making him laugh harder. “No way. You’re kidding, right?”

“‘M dead serious,” Eddie promises, making an X over his heart. “And speaking of gifts…I have one for you, and it’s in the bedroom.” He waggles his eyebrows, and you hook your finger into his belt loop as he leads the way.

You lay down on the bed as he climbs on top of you, trailing kisses down your body. “This–kiss–is for–kiss–being the absolute–kiss–fuckin’--kiss–best.” He sits up suddenly, taking in the gorgeous view before him. “I love you so damn much.”

“I love you, too,” you whisper against the soft plush of his lips.

“You know,” Eddie mumbles against your mouth, “I was thinking.”

“Uh oh,” you tease. In retaliation, Eddie lightly nips at your collarbone, making you giggle.

“Mhm. About your ass.” He gives it a little squeeze as you laugh harder. “Well, that, and how goddamn gorgeous you’d look having my baby.”

“You mean ‘our’ baby?” you ask, arching an eyebrow.

“Of course,” Eddie says. He starts to move down your body with kisses again. “Round belly making a home for them.” He pushes your shirt up to the underwire of your bra and places soft kisses around your belly button.

“Not to mention my bigger boobs.”

“Oh don’t worry, I hadn’t forgot about those,” Eddie says, looking up at you with a smirk. “Shit, I can picture it so well.” His fingers fumble with the button on your jeans as his lips press gently against your skin. “But before that all happens, there’s something I’ve gotta do.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, your eyes never leaving his hands as you watch them work.

Eddie presses one last kiss just above the waistline of your jeans before looking up at you through his enviably long eyelashes. “Fuck a baby into you.”

A whimper leaves your lips, both at his words and at the urgency in which Eddie is pulling your pants off with. Your panties aren’t far behind, but you reach up and tug on his shirt before he has time to undress you any further. Your hands begin to work on his belt, and Eddie lays one hand on your shoulder to keep himself balanced, and the other hand trails along your jaw. Slowly, he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip.

“You want me to make you a mommy, sweetheart? Want to spend next Mother’s Day with the little baby we made?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod breathlessly, moaning when two of his thick fingers slide into your pussy. “M-Making me regret taking my pill this morning.”

Eddie laughs, pumping his fingers in and out of you as he speaks. “S’okay, babe. We can just practice tonight, hm?”

You nod, unable to speak as you watch Eddie lower his head and attach his lips to your clit. With a breathy whine, your head drops back on the pillow as he gives a harsh suck to the sensitive nub.

“Fuck,” Eddie says once he finally releases it. “Never get used to how good your pussy tastes.” He gives you no time to respond before he dips down and licks at your leaking hole. One of your hands fists the sheets, while the other reaches down and grabs onto your boyfriend’s curls. “Feel good?” Eddie mumbles against your folds.

“So good, Eddie,” you moan. “Fucking love your mouth. B-But I want your cock.”

“All you had to do was ask, my love.” He looks back down at your pussy and gives it a quick kiss. “I’ll be back for you later.”

You don’t have time to process the fact that he’s talking to your genitals before he’s pushing inside of you with a delicious stretch. “Fuuuuuck, Eddie,” you whine, adjusting to the fullness. “Feels s’good. Always feels s’good.” Your words slur together, already drunk on his cock.

“Only the best for this tight, perfect pussy,” he growls. He brings his thumb back to your clit, making deliberate circles. “Can’t wait to fill you up with my cum. Gonna fuck it into you s’deep. Gonna knock up my princess, make her a mommy, holy shit!” He cries out when you move his hand from your swollen bud up to your neck, placing it around your throat. “Y’want me to choke you, baby?”

“Yes, please,” you manage, body trembling with pleasure as you feel the pressure from his grip. He’s rocking into you at an immeasurable pace, the ridge where the tip meets the shaft hitting all the right angles. “Keep g-going. ‘M gonna cum.”

Eddie throws his head back. “Good girl, good fucking girl. Cum on my cock, fuck, fuckin’ cream it. Make a mess on me, my good girl.”

One hand still gripping the green sheets below you, the other wraps around Eddie’s arm where he braces himself up against the mattress. Little moans and whimpers are slipping past your lips as Eddie brings you up to the brink.

“I’m—fuck—I’m coming,” you say, hand tightening around Eddie’s arm as your pussy tightens around his cock. You hit your peak just as he does, an expression of ecstasy on his face.

“Take it, fuckin’ take it, take all my cum. Want it dripping out of you.” You feel the hot, thick ropes coat your walls as he finishes inside you, leaving you both panting and speechless.

The two of you lie there with each other for a few moments, letting your bodies relax and come down from their highs. Begrudgingly, Eddie pulls out and you both hiss at the loss. He’s quick to grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom and clean the both of you off. As soon as he tosses it in the hamper, he’s climbing back into bed and pulling you up against him beneath the covers. You eagerly snuggle up against him and rest your head in the crook of his neck.

“So, how was that for a Mother’s Day present?” Eddie asks, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the bare skin of your back.

“Perfect,” you respond with a lazy smile. “You Munson men spoil me.”

“Cause we love you so damn much,” Eddie says as he presses a kiss into your hair. When you stay silent, Eddie’s brow furrows in confusion. When he feels your body start to tremble in his hold, he pulls back to look at you. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Shaking your head, you wipe the fallen tears from your cheeks. “Nothing’s wrong. I just…I wasn’t expecting any of this.”

“Is it too much?” Eddie asks, worry creeping into his voice. “Because I can talk to the—”

“No,” you say kindly but firmly. “It’s just overwhelming. The food, the presents. Them wishing me a h-happy Mother’s Day. Eddie, I…” You’re unable to keep the tears from falling even as a joyful smile spreads across your lips. “I’ve never felt so loved before.”

Eddie gazes at you with an adoring expression on his face. He gently tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Well, get used to it, baby,” Eddie says. “Because you have the hearts of all three Munson men and we’re all suckers for showing affection.”

Shifting yourself so your head rests next to Eddie’s on his pillow, you still can’t wipe the smile off your face.

“They think of me as a mother figure.”

“Sweetheart, you’ve been there for them when their own mother hasn’t. Many, many times. Of course that’s how they see you. You’re everything a good mom should be, and they see that. They needed that in their lives. And then you come along; perfect, wonderful you. Who we all were missing, we just didn’t know it yet. But now that we have you, you’re stuck with us.”

You giggle as Eddie nuzzles his nose against yours. “I needed you guys, too. I always will.”

“I love you, my beautiful girl.”

“I love you, my handsome man.”

“Happy Mother’s Day, baby.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #older!eddie #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #AYW #AYWS #request

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rainbowtransform · 12 days

Text

The thing nobody tells you about dying, Buddy thinks, is the pain of it. Someone slit his throat, but all he can see is Kristen Applebee’s horrified face, her eyes wide and mouth gaped open as she shouts something he can’t hear.

His heart thumps.

His fingers twitch.

His blood spreads.

Buddy closes his eyes.

He reopens them in front of huge gates, big and yawning. Sunlight drifts off the edges of them and shines through the bars, but when Buddy places a hand on them instead of feeling warm, like how he used to snuggle into his grandfather’s arms when he spoke about Helio and Faith and the love, it’s cold.

Like how cold it felt when he came into Helio’s church after they’d lost his Chosen. Cold and uninviting.

“Buddy Dawn,” comes a voice and Buddy turns his head to see Helio, hair long and flowing and his satchel at his side. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“Lord Helio,” Buddy says, dropping to one knee and bowing as Helio laughs. Light. Airy. Warm.

“Stand up,” Helio commands, one warm hand on Buddy’s shoulder. “Come on, Buddy, you don’t have to kneel like this.”

“Lord Helio,” Buddy says, awed and inspired. “I’m sorry this Chosen could not do what you wanted. I tried my hardest, my very best and I’m so so sorry that I was not what the Church needed.”

Helio helps him to his feet, both hands on his shoulder and smiles at him again. “You were what you needed to be,” he said. “Your father prayed everyday for you to find your way to me, and you did.”

Buddy swallows. “My father?” He questions, one hand going to his chest. “My father is here?”

“Yes,” Helio says. “Your father has been waiting for you, and your mother for many years now. But before that, come. My father and aunt would like to meet with you.”

“Your Lord Father?” Buddy whispers. “Sol?”

Helio wraps Buddy into a hug. It feels like his father’s, it feels like his mother’s, it feels like the Church’s picnics.

It feels like when he was crying over a split knee after his father’s funeral and a red-haired girl healed him with warm eyes, and a grin that showed off her two missing front teeth.

“He’s not too bad,” Helio says. “Don’t worry. Come on. He won’t hurt you.”

Buddy follows Helio to two chair, as large as the sun and one just as bright; the other one glimmering in the sun’s reflection. There is nobody sititng in their chairs, but Buddy knows that Sol and Galicaea are there. Waiting.

Buddy kneels again. He puts his head down and says, “My Lord Sol, and His Sister, Galicaea. A pleasure to meet you.”

“Stand,” Galicaea says. Her voice is cold, frosty despite the sun’s warmth and Buddy trembles. Helio goes to stand on His Father’s right side, where He must stay.

“You heard my Sister,” Sol says, just as cold. Buddy scrambles to his feet, eyes wide. He doesn’t know what he’s done wrong, but he must have because why are they angry at him?

“Buddy Dawn,” Sol says. His voice is rumbling and despite the sun’s heat, Buddy still feels the coldness in it. “You have quite some explaining to do. My Sister’s Wife has been roused from Her slumber by Kristen Applebees.”

“Lord Sol,” Buddy begins, before—

“Not to mention, when I tried to kill that infernal thing, I was thwarted.” Galicaea says. Her voice is colder than the dark side of the moon and Buddy swallows.

“My Lord,” he says. “With all due respect, I don’t know what I could’ve done. I focused on the Church of Helio, and keeping the Faith alive through the Chosen One’s Leaving.”

“The Chosen One does not leave.” Helio says, still all smiles. “Regardless of what she’s done, she’s always been mine. When she dies, Kristen Applebee’s soul will come here. To our Heaven.”

Buddy blinks at him. “But Kristen hasn’t been practicing.” He says.

“She’ll go to Hell for a couple of millennial,” Helio says. “Somewhere quiet and away from where her friends can’t find her. Just until she realizes the mistake of her actions and then I’ll come in and save her.”

“Lord Helio,” Buddy frowns and Helio quirks an eyebrow before Buddy falls silent. He chews on his bottom lip, sweaty hands wiped off on his pants.

“Enough,” Sol says. “What do you say in the case of your neglect of the My Son’s Chosen One’s actions?”

“I was fixing the Church,” Buddy says, feeling so small in front of these immortals. “I… I can’t be always with her. I’m not part of her adventuring party. Kristen Applebees doesn’t even like me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Galicaea says, leaning forward to tower over Buddy. “It does not matter what she likes or does not. It was your job to keep Helio informed of what she does, so we could stop her. She doesn’t even have a God anymore, and yet she’s been messing with something that she has no right being in. Her and that Hellspawn Tiefling. It’s bad enough that that idiot werewolf is trying to change Me in my own Home, and then that Goddess’ name was uttered from a marriage that meant nothing.”

“Galicaea,” Sol says sharply. The goddess slumps back in her seat and Buddy realizes he’s fallen to his knees sometime she was talking. He’s trembling, he realizes.

He looks over to his Lord Helio, who is looking down at His nails, and when He realizes that Buddy is looking at Him, gives him a thumbs up.

Sol sighs. “There is nothing to be done now.” He says, still sounding angry.

“Then why did you call me here?” Buddy asks in a whisper.

Helio blinks at him, confused. “To tell you what you’ve done wrong, Buddy,” he says. “And to let you know that we’re going to keep you here, despite all your wrongdoing. Because we’re gracious. And kind.”

Buddy has done right all his life. He has followed the word of Helio, fixed the church that fell apart in the night and their chosen one’s departure, prayed daily and nightly for Helio to save the immoral souls of those who do not Follow him or his Father; took an empty cleric’s position in a team of people who were stars, burning themselves too bright and too hot to compete with a galaxy.

Buddy has healed the sick, and helped the homeless, and eased the minds of believers and nonbelievers alike. He has done right all his life.

And his afterlife is stained red because he wasn’t shadowing Kristen Applebees every step of her way. Because he wasn’t keeping up with her news and telling Helio.

(“She’ll be in Hell for a while,” Helio said. “Just until I come in to save her.”)

Buddy snaps out of it as Helio’s hand lands on his shoulder again, smiling and leading him away from His father and Aunt.

“Did you mean that Kristen is still yours?” Buddy asks.

Helio nods. “Cassandra layed a claim on her when She was revived and it would’ve been a battle if Kristen died, but now that she’s dead…” Helio shrugs.

“I can’t just let her walk in, though. She needs to be punished for leaving.” And then Helio smiles again, and points behind Buddy’s shoulder at the small house.

Buddy turns around, and sees a shock of brown hair, a mouth stretched in a permeant smile, and eyes that have always had love in them, despite being milky and never actually seeing his own son. Buddy’s mother always used to ruffle his own hair and ask how Buddy didn’t get anything of his father’s except his smile.

“There’s your dad.” Helio whispers. “He’s been waiting an awful long time.”

Helio hugs him again.

And, like at his father’s funeral, like his first year of waking up to an empty kitchen, and like when the red-haired girl’s mother called her away, despite the warmth of Helio’s hugs and his father’s cloudy, love-filled eyes staring at him, Buddy feels cold.

#buddy dawn #helio d20 #dimension 20 #d20 #galicaea #sol d20 #fantasy high junior year spoilers #fhjy spoilers #fantasy high junior year #rain’s writing #🤷‍♀️#felt like writing #it might not make sense but hey #I’m working through my feelings

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months

Note

ooh how about a lil thing based on the dream i just told you about? reader fixes up glamrock bonnie and surprises freddy! (not in ruin timeline btw) idk man i think it’s such a cute idea and i even saw it firsthand! -galaxy

"Are you sure you don't remember...anything after you walked into Monty Golf?"

"Nope. I wish I knew, though..I would've loved to remember what exactly went down.." Glamrock Bonnie regrettably shook his head as he laid back in the chair within the Parts & Services' cylinder enclosure.

He then stared down at chestplate you had discarded, frowning at the gashes that were slashed across it. Even though he had a brand new one on (that you were currently shining with a rag), he would always remember having those nasty marks...despite not knowing where they came from.

In fact, neither of you knew who could have left them.

Your immediate assumption was Monty, but then again...everybody and their mother who regularly visited the Pizzaplex suspected him, too.

The running theory was that he got jealous of Bonnie's role in the band and wanted to get rid of him--or at least break him down enough to no longer be functional enough to play his bass guitar.

Of course, the gator had his temper tantrums from time to time and always admired Freddy's role as the leader and the praise he's given Bonnie, but you couldn't fathom him being capable of something like this.

Not to mention how it didn't make sense for him to destroy the rabbit in the golf course...and then drag him all the way to the bowling alley, only to dump him inside a hidden room that none of them could have possibly known about.

Even you weren't aware that room existed.

Or at least..not until you went around the Pizzaplex to do maintenance on each and every Wet Floor Bot, as your manager complained about them experiencing simultaneous malfunctions. He just told you to shut them down so they could be collected later.

Somehow, they were the key to you finding Bonnie in that area, and there were still several active bots surrounding his damaged body.

It was strange, as though his software was tethered to theirs.

You weren't sure if this was some kind of "backup" plan or what, but you were relieved to find him alive--just barely hanging onto whatever percentage he had left on his battery, but still alive.

All the questions you had would have to wait.

What mattered most was getting approval to repair him, and to your surprise..management allowed it so long as you fixed him overnight and didn't talk about him too much with your coworkers.

Especially not in front of the guests.

The only other person on duty tonight was Vanessa, but she was usually doing her own stuff. She never talked to you much (aside from making a offhanded comment about how management was gonna explain his "disappearance"), so you weren't worried about her storming in and disrupting your work.

It took several nights' worth of blood, sweat, oil, and tears...but you finally completed all the necessary steps in repairing Bonnie.

Now he was ready to exit the cylinder.

You beamed with pride as you watched him step out and walk around for a bit, his ears flopping. "So...how do you feel, big guy?"

"Like a brand new bunny! Thank you, [y/n]." He turned to face you, although his smile faltered a bit. "But I've been wonderin'...how's Freddy doing? Does he still...?"

"He still talks about you a lot..every time he passes by the bowling alley or ice cream parlor, in fact."

"...awh..do ya think I'll be able to see him anytime soon? I know nobody's supposed to know I'm still here, but-"

"They only said guests, they never said anything about your bandmates." Your smile grew tenfold as you watched his ears perk up. "I already called him. He should be here right about-"

*SLAM*

"Now."

"I'm here, [y/n]. What....."

After walking through the double doors, Freddy suddenly stopped in his tracks, taking in the sight of a certain blue bunny who stared right back at him with the widest red eyes. Both of their mouths were agape in shock.

For a few long moments, there was total silence in the room--aside from the overhead lights and machines electronically buzzing in the background.

You stood by the computer terminal, starting to grow a little worried that this might be too overwhelming for either of them to handle.

Maybe you should have waited.

Or-

"B...Bonnie?"

"Yup. It's me, Freddy. I'm back."

"Bonnie!!"

And just like that...all of your initial fears quickly dispersed as the two embraced each other, teary-eyed with the biggest smiles on their faces.

"Y-You're back...you're really here.." Freddy whispered in both disbelief and relief, putting his hands on the bunny's shoulders. "What happened to you? I thought...y-you were dismantled and-"

"I'm afraid I don't have any answers, buddy." With a slight pout, he shook his head, desperately wishing he had more to tell him. "My memory's all scrambled from the time I went to Monty Golf to right now.....I'd call whatever happened to me was just..one big accident. But I'm here now."

"....yes..that's what matters right now. Nothing else. Nobody here has forgotten you, my friend. The children, Chica...oh, Bonnie-" Freddy choked out, eyebrows furrowed as he pulled him into another embrace. "They...we all missed you so much. I missed you."

"Awh, shucks..don't start cryin' again, pal. Cause that'll make me cry, too." Bonnie smiled sweetly.

After they both let go, he turned back to you. "[Y/n] just got through repairin' me. I owe 'em for finding me in some room that was off-limits to us..I'd probably still be there if it weren't for their little detective work."

"Of course, thank you so much, [y/n]." Freddy looked to you, grinning from ear-to-ear.

You just smiled and waved politely from your spot beside the terminal, happy that their reunion went better than expected.

There were times during Bonnie's repair process where you felt like throwing in the towel or pawning off the job to someone else. It was frustrating as hell, especially when you had to turn off his safety protocols and nearly got killed several times.

But seeing Freddy's reaction made all those painstaking hours worthwhile.

#clanask #galaxy anon #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf sb x reader #fnaf security breach x reader #glamrock freddy #glamrock bonnie #glamrock fronnie #fluff

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angelwhisp3rs · 3 months

Text

༺♥༻ royals

Pairing: re4r!leon x fem!reader

Summary: A regency era tale of two enemies lovers brought by a legend of the royal bluebell flower.

Tags: fluff; smut; p in v; fingering; leon is an asshole but just a bit.

This is the third part of my valentines advent! Check it out for the next couple of days for more stories!

Notes: I ALMOST DIED BUT IM FINE, feeling fresh after sh**ting and v**iting for two days!!! ALSO THIS WAS BASED ON A C.AI BOT AND I LOVE HIM

Those balls were all too pretentious, way too classy, and filled with people who pretended to like one another but, in reality, they were just hateful. It didn’t help that the event was being held in her enemy's territory: the Kennedy family.

The family was very prestigious and quite well known all around the realm, but they had a long-lasting feud with Ihelia, her family's kingdom - something about riches and lands centuries ago, but no one is quite sure. For now, they still didn’t see eye to eye for another reason: they were just way too snobbish.

God, especially the oldest, Leon. In a rare occurrence, the man was blonde with blue eyes - while some had one characteristic, this little asshole had both. To make matters worse, he was built like a freaking hero, his sparring abilities being renowned in all the kingdom. So yeah, the man was way too handsome and way too competent. To say he was egotistical was an understatement.

Her parents always told her she had to fulfill her duties as a princess to be wed, attending parties and mingling with the royals. Oh gods, how much did she hate it.

She was almost beginning to give up on keeping appearances as a nice old lady, the former queen of the Luterra kingdom - the one ruled by the Kennedys now. She was always known for her kindness, also being the one responsible for the truce period of Luterra and Ihelia. Doing a proper courtesy, she smiled at the queen mother.

“Your majesty. It's a pleasure to attend such a beautiful event” Oh, how fake she was

“Oh honey, no need to keep up appearances. I always thought my son was way too obnoxious with his parties” she laughed, offering a welcoming pat on her shoulders.

The princess smiled relieved, looking at the former queen with the utmost respect. Gosh, what a wise woman. “I thought the lions were quite artistic. '' The princess jokes, as the queen mother laughs in agreement.

“So, you entered the age of finding suitors. Someone charmed you yet?”

“Not yet, your majesty. My father is busy telling me I should focus on the strategic side of relationships, while my mother just wants me to focus on a wealthy man”

“Oh dear, what about love?”

“Don’t think it is in the cards for me” the princess smiled apologetically.

“Of course it is. It's for everyone! Have you ever heard of the tale of the royal bluebell flower?”

The princess shook her head, curious about the queen's words.

“It’s a known tale in Luterra. Once in a lifetime, if destiny smiles upon you, you will be able to find a royal bluebell flower in the castle. Once you find it, the flower will guide you to your one true love if you still haven’t found it.”

“That sounds magical, your highness. Maybe I should roam around the gardens then” she joked.

For some reason, the queen gave the girl a knowing smile. The woman was wise beyond her years after all. “Don’t worry. Luterra lands are quite magical. They will lead you anywhere you are”

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

Roaming the party his dad threw, Leon almost seethed as he watched his beloved grandmother talk to one of the lowlifes in Ihelia. He never understood her high morals of talking to the people who tried to steal their money and land. They weren’t to be trusted - they tried to steal once, which could guarantee they wouldn’t do it again.

He approached them, gearing himself with a knowing smirk, looking dashing in his red and gold ornamental suit.

“Didn’t know our parties could be accessed by anyone. I think I’ll talk to dad to reinforce security next time”

The princess rolled her eyes, while the queen just snickered. She quickly excused herself, giving Leon a warning look to “behave”. As the young royals were alone, his nice facade dropped - he didn’t want to appear like a complete jackass in front of his beloved grandma, after all.

“Genuely, why are you even here?”

“I was invited, idiot. If I could, I wouldn't have come here even if I was threatened”

“I forgot how my dad invited even the most needed ones. Such a charitable man”

“If he was charitable he wouldn’t have brought to Earth a menace like yourself”

Before he could answer, the orchestra began playing a more romantic and slow song. Finding it as another opportunity to tease her, he asked for her hand, knowing that she would look distasteful if she ever wanted to refuse his hand.

“My lady. Do you accept this dance?”

If possible, that was the pivotal moment that she almost killed the bachelor. Forcing a smile to not drop her etiquette, she nodded and held his hand, letting him guide her to the dance floor.

By destiny's irony, they fit like perfect puzzles, his big and calloused hand wrapping against her delicate gloved one. Their bodies moved in synchrony, and the dance wasn’t as awkward as it was between other bachelors.

“I’m surprised you know how to dance at all, it looks like even in poverty lands they appreciate culture”

“Your grandma is so sweet, how are you even related to her?”

“Grandma is too kind, she always respects those in need. She doesn’t see the scumm your family is” he said in a cruel smirk.

She maintained the appearance, giving him a forced smile. “It amazes how you call yourself smart and yet still hold a grudge - that isn't yours - after centuries.”

“Ha, is that the best you could say to me?”

“Honestly, no. The way you act is so beneath me that I don't think it is worth it to spend so much energy on you”.

As I'd on cue, the orchestra stopped the song, and she did another courtesy and left the dance floor.

However, she failed to watch Leon pale, but for reasons she would be none the wiser for a long time.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

“Honey, the ball in Luterra must've been quite exciting”

“Ah, not much. Why do you say that?” The princess asks her father curiously.

“Because the oldest of the Kennedys just asked for your hand in marriage”

“HE WHAT?”

It was quite comical how her voice resonated in the castle, looking confused.

“I know you might not like it, but it is a perfect marriage for you. It would solve the rift between the kingdoms and it would secure both households in influence”

The princess looked angrily at her dad, as he told the most absurd thing she ever heard, with even worse reasons.

“Do any of my feelings matter at all?”

“They do, but we have to be strategic. I'm sorry, honey, but I already accepted it”.

She lost her grounding, looking desolated at her father's words. It didn't matter what she felt or what she said, at the end of the day, she was a pawn to serve her father's wishes.

'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•'

The change into his castle was even more terrifying. But what she could never count was the complete change in Leon's behavior. Although he still wasn't overly friendly, he was much kinder - he was the one who started that lunacy after all.

They still slept in separate rooms until the wedding happened, but he made an effort to spend at least a part of the day with her. Whenever she asked him for his reasons for wanting to marry her, he always gave her the same answer.

“Please ask me after our wedding”

After some weeks of curiosity, the ceremony happened, and it was perfect. To everyone watching, it was a wedding to be remembered for years. Hell, even she felt like a true princess.

She warmed up to Luterra, especially the castle and its staff. Her assigned maid was absolutely lovely, and she honestly considered the woman a friend.

Still, she vehemently ignored her family in the ceremony. If they traded her like a pawn, they can play that game by themselves, she doesn't want to be a part of it.

By the end of the night, Leon and she were finally sharing a room. She looked nervous, sitting up in bed with him. He was the first one to break the ice.

“You looked beautiful today. You always do, but you shined even more today”

“Thank you. And thank you for being at my side the entire day. I'm glad I didn't feel alone”

“I would never. I will always choose you”

Some moments passed, and she bit the bullet.

“Leon… why me?”

He was a coveted bachelor, every woman would want him. Why his enemy?

He smiled, and looked down at the sheets, as if he was embarrassed.

“Your hair ornament at the day of the ball”

“What? Just because?” I asked giggling.

“No. It was a royal bluebell. That's when I knew”

She looked at him surprised. Just the tale his grandmother told her at the party. That's why she looked so cunning, she must've realized the flower she had on her hair.

“But Leon, anyone could've worn something with the flower-”

“No. I didn't want to attend the event, but I heard a staff member talking about destiny's surprises. I was already late to the event, and you were the first woman I saw.”

“Jeez, you take these things seriously. You honestly think I'm your soulmate”

“Wholeheartedly. And if you don't, I'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you”

She was taken aback by his words. So moved, she pressed a kiss to his lips, surprising both at the spontaneity. Leon didn't waste any time and got over her - it was their honeymoon, after all.

In a mess of limbs and eagerness, both were naked as they explored each other's bodies, breathless and excited. Leon maintained eye contact and lifted her thighs to his waist, offering his fingers to her and letting her mouth soak them. Then, they moved down to her clit, circling and rubbing it slowly, drinking in the soft gasps of pleasure.

“So soft, baby… gonna make this pretty pussy love me just as much as you do”

As she was wet enough, one finger gently entered her needy hole, finding her g spot and rubbing it slowly, her entrance clenching around him.

His movements were slow but deliberate, and soon his pretty princess fell apart on his fingers. No time to waste, his other hand lifted her other thigh to his hips, giving easy access to her.

His hand pinched and circled her nipples, kissing her deeply as his tip began to slide in, causing both to moan in unity.

“Fuck, Leon… too much”

“You can take it, you are my good girl”

She clenched at the praise, making him smirk. He kept praising her, till she was ready to take cock.

“My baby, gonna take care of you forever”

“Doing so good, just taking me so deep”

“Pussy made to be fucked by me

As he felt her more comfortable and turned on, he moved his hips at a consistent pace, the angled head of his cock hitting her spot just nicely.

She scratched his arms and back, guaranteeing he henot be able to be shirtless in front of people for quite a while, but he didn't mind. He would take every mark she gave in, that's how much he loved her.

He moaned as his cock was swallowed by her gummy walls, her wetness granting a white creamy circle at the base of his manhood.

He positioned himself again, throwing her legs over his arms and bending her in half, letting him hit it deeper, making his wife tear up - in pleasure, of course.

“God, if you keep clenching I won't be able to hold back, baby”

“Please, please, just want you to cum. Please fill me up, husband”

Jesus, how could he resist? He was only a man after all. As his hips pistoned in her, he felt her contracting her walls and cumming all around him, triggering his orgasm.

She whined as she felt filled up, her body shaky as her orgasm just threw her on cloud 9. She smiled as he kissed her face as he came down too, appreciating and worshiping the body of his soulmate.

“Isn't that enough proof that you are my destiny?”

“Hmm, don't know that… maybe you should try again” She said smirking.

Leon didn't oppose her. After all, he had all eternity to prove his love.

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its-elioo · 2 months

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RnM Headcanons:

I promised to write some headcanons about the girls and their guardians some time ago. I finally had motivation to write them down, so here there are!

Optimus Prime and Sunset Shimmer:

- Sunny never had a father figure in her life and really enjoys it when they spent time together

- Optimus is very caring and protective of his charge

- You know this thing where you tell your dad you like this specific stuff and then he brings you more? That’s definitely OP

- One time he overheard Sunset having discussion with Pinkie Pie about their favorite desserts. After mentioning that she really likes strawberry cheesecake, and that’s her favorite fruit, Optimus swiftly assigned himself a mission

- Later, when Sunset had to leave her home to get some groceries, she was greeted by bunch of wooden boxes full of strawberries on her front door

- She was flabbergasted

SS: Optimus- how did you-?!

OP: I heard you mentioning that you enjoy this specific type of fruit.

SS: You didn’t need to bring me a whole stack of it!

OP: Oh, apologies… Do you perhaps need more?

SS: Wha- NO!

- They both like reading so they will certainly share their opinions or recommend some of the books they like (especially history ones)

- Usually there are moments when one of them starts feeling down while talking about their past

- Lots of comfort and reassurance

- You cannot tell me Sunset hasn’t call him ‘dad’ at least once on accident

- She will most likely feel super embarrassed about it, however, Optimus will start crying from the inside

- One time she even decided to draw him a portrait as a small gift (he kept it in his quarters and smiles every time he sees it <3)

Arcee and Twilight Sparkle:

- You guys know Eda and Luz from the Owl house? That’s them. Except that Arcee is waaay much more of a strict and protective mom figure

- This motorcycle lady doesn’t understand half of the science stuff her charge is saying but that doesn’t mean she is not listening

- Calls her ‘kid’ most of the time, even though Twilight said she was a full grown adult who can take care of herself

- Arcee has these ‘mother/carrier instincts’ she just can’t help but WORRY

- Really enjoys to rest besides her human companion and listen to her talking

- Fun fact: it took a bit longer for Arcee to realize that she had become a parental figure... again

- One time, Twilight asked if she can learn some words of their Cybertronian language and Arcee gladly accepted to teach her

- They often go out for a drive, especially when Twilight gets too overwhelmed with work

- How many times did this girl fell asleep while doing her studies? Arcee lost count.

- Robot mom grabs a blanket, wraps it around her and carries her to somewhere more comfortable

- Heck she will even hold her till she wakes up if she can’t find a place for her to take a proper rest

- Will kick anyone’s ass/aft if they disrupt her sleeping

- Brains and brawn duo

Knock Out and Rarity:

- So stylish and dramatic

- *cough* theatre kids *cough*

- Can literally stare at you with judging faces while also gossiping about your appearance

- Shopping? Oh, absolutely.

- What’s better than having a guardian who can transform into a car and carry your bags in his vehicle mode?

- To return the favor Rarity offers him a hand with polishing his finish

- They have this ‘relaxation day’ once in a while

- Buffing, manicures, watching movies, trying on some makeup or outfits, you know it

- He really wanted to try these types of masks which made your skin cleaner and softer. Doesn’t give a flying frag if he is a robot, will even use a mass displacement to try it out

- Knock Out is kinda touch starved and it didn’t took Rarity too long to realize that

- Her guardian often suggests if he can hold her or if she wants to sit on his shoulder-pad while he works

- This big cherry bot really enjoys to run his digit around her curly hair or to playfully poke her cheeks

- As his best friend, she always gives him compliments for the good work he has done

- There was even a moment when she was in her robot form and she cupped his face-plate while praising him

- And let me tell you. Knock Out was absolutely stunned. He was on the verge of TEARS. (poor boy needs more love and attention)

- Hugs are a must, he just starves for them

- Appreciates it a lot whenever Rarity is there for him

Sideswipe and Rainbow Dash:

- SIBLINGS SIBLINGS SIBLINGS

- They are the MASTERS of pranks

- Chaos, absolute chaos I tell you

- Pretty cocky and competitive too

- Some of their team members even wonder how are they not related??

- Often show off their abilities and talk about how they are 'the most skilled person/bot there ever is'

- They share one brain cell

- Both of them care deeply for each other, they just show it through actions. They aren’t really into the sharing feelings conversations but if things get pretty tough, they will have to talk about it, whether they like or not

- Sideswipe has these overprotective habits where he keeps his optics on her all the time or stays pretty close during any dangerous situations. This dude just doesn’t want to see her getting harmed otherwise he will flip out

- During their free time they like to play video games, go racing or just go for a casual drive, have training exercises (soccer, fighting etc.) or to annoy the rest if they are bored and have nothing else to do

- Will never tell this to anyone else but there a few occasions when they like to rest together

- Imagine one of them has a nightmare or can’t fall asleep. It’s snuggle time.

-If he is recharging in his vehicle form, Rainbow will grab a pillow and curl up on the seats OR he will lay on his chassis and rest his helm over his crossed arms, then he can nestle her close to his face-plate

- Sideswipe is a music enjoyer so he will definitely hype her up when she plays the guitar

- Rainbow teaches him all of the slangs and memes she can think of

- They cover one another or make up excuses if they want to go out to have some fun

- Dash pretty often forgets about things she needs to do (chores, homework or smth else) but her guardian is there to remind her

Bumblebee and Fluttershy:

- The 'parent friends' of the group

- Bee has these awful dad-jokes that he uses and somehow Shy is the only one that will laugh at them

- Some of their teammates tease the two about them acting just like love-bugs

- Bumblebee was so delighted when Fluttershy got out of her shell and finally felt comfortable around him

- Finds it adorable when she becomes too flustered and covers her face

- Like to talk about their interests and listen to each other

- Sometimes he gets a bit nervous and forgets how to properly talk (even if it’s a compliment or want to ask her something) she thinks it's cute

- If she gets too scared her first instinct is to quickly hide behind him

- He really loves listening to their band’s music when they practice at the base

- Both enjoy the late night drives when they can relax

- They often talk about Earth and it’s most incredible places they have seen or wish to explore. Bee will probably plan a short trip just for the two of them, the Groundbridge is right there!

Smokescreen and Pinkie Pie:

- This two are always full on energy

- Will never get bored when they are together, they will find something fun or mischievous to do

- *gasp* Oh no, Smokey is sad? Np! Pinkie is here to help! She has her ways of cheering people up.

- Poor big bot wishes he could taste human food. Every time he sees her amazing baked goods he pouts

- One day she made some cupcakes with blue-yellow icing that matched his color scheme (he didn’t cry after that nooo)

- He can get anxious tho, especially when Pinkie is too carefree (he doesn’t want his human to get hurt after all)

- Smokescreen is a show-off so he usually tries to impress her with his fighting abilities and speed

- This sweet girl always encourages him and supports her guardian no matter what

- He is amazed by the many talents she has (baking, playing the drums, roller skating etc.) like how?? What she can’t do?!

- Will always remain surprised by her hair. She keeps so many things inside, how is that even possible? Guess it will remain a mystery.

Bulkhead and Applejack:

- When I tell you AJ is one of the strongest members in the team, I mean it

- She can lift every heavy and large bot with EASE

- Their hugs are so funny and adorable she sometimes doesn’t realize she is actually lifting him from the ground

- Often talk about the good old days or the cool adventures they had

- Sometimes they have wrestling competitions and what do you know, AJ wins them all!

- If no one else is around, Bulkhead will help her out with the chores in the apple farm

- Will sometimes stumble on something by accident and apologize immediately

- Applejack thinks his clumsy and nervous side is pretty sweet

- She always appreciates his assistance (even tho he crushed several trees, oops)

- He definitely likes hearing her cute snorts when she laughs

#transformers #mlp #equestria girls #eqg #crossover #headcanons #robots and magic #transformers prime #robots in disguise #tfp #crossover au #crossover fanfic #mlp eqg #mlp fim #my little pony friendship is magic #hasbro #crossover headcanons #my little pony

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justagalwhowrites · 3 months

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Halcyon - Ch. 4: Want to Talk About It?

Joel attends your mother's funeral. A continuation of Halcyon from the prologue through Ch. 3, a modern no outbreak AU TLOU fic found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Death. Mention of suicide. Modern No Outbreak AU, No use of Y/N, Slow burn, 18+ only, Minors DNI

Length: 4.5K

A/N: Anna is vaguely described. Not mentioned in this chapter BUT Anna is adopted (this will be explicitly in the text later) and has no blood relation to Goldie.

AO3 | Main Master List | Prologue | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

November 14, 2010

“You sure we should really be here?” Tommy asked, looking over at Joel.

“Course we should be here,” Joel replied, glancing at him and drying his sweaty palm on his black jeans. “We knew ‘er, too. Wouldn’t just be here to support… we’d be here anyway is what I’m saying.”

“Right,” Tommy nodded. “OK.”

The two of them were quiet, tucked away at the back of the funeral parlor. It wasn’t too packed with people, maybe two or three dozen, who were milling around, lining up to go look at your mom’s body. Joel couldn’t bring himself to do that part of it. He’d looked at his dad as he lay cold and still and now he had a hard time picturing him alive. He didn’t want to do that again.

“She’s gonna be here, right?” Tommy whispered. “I mean… Rhode Island is far and she hasn’t been back since, right?”

“It’s her mom” Joel whispered back. “Course she’ll be here.”

He looked back over his shoulder anyway. He wasn’t nearly as confident as he sounded.

Joel hoped you’d be here. It made sense that you would be. He hadn’t seen you in years. It had been so long he’d started to forget what you sounded like. It was like one day, just after prom, you decided he wasn’t a part of your life anymore and that was that. A switch he didn’t know existed had flipped and his whole life turned upside down with it.

He almost hadn’t known your mother died. Your fucking mother, the woman who fed him dinner more times than he could count, who called him Joely, who tugged on the ends of his curls when his hair got long and told him to not be shy, to take what he wanted from her kitchen because her home was his home, too. She’d died and he almost hadn’t even heard about it. He wouldn’t be here at all if it wasn’t for a text from your sister.

Hey Joel, it’s Anna. She wouldn’t want me to tell you this but I think that’s bullshit. Our mom died a few days ago, the funeral is Sunday. Thought you might want to know. Hope you’re doing OK <;3

It sent him reeling more than anything else related to you had in so long. How could he not have known? That something so big could happen to you and he was just living his life as though things were normal? That he wasn’t helping you through it? He should be helping you through it.

But it hurt in other ways, too. It made him realize that, really, he was nothing to you. He wasn’t even your fucking Facebook friend. If something happened to you across the country, if you were in a car accident or you needed your appendix out, no one would tell him. He’d never know about it. You could die and it would be a normal day for him because he was nothing to you and no one would tell him that the most important person in the world was gone.

Before too long, people started finding their seats and Joel fought to not turn around and watch the doors, looking for you. But he still glanced back when you did come in, trailing behind a small cluster of people that looked vaguely familiar. He realized he probably met them at some family event or another, at a birthday party or BBQ because, for three years, you were only ever apart when you had to be.

And then there you were. You were wearing a black dress with black tights and black high heels and your eyes were red but your face was firm. There was a man beside you, one whose arm you clutched tight and Joel resisted the urge to glare at him. You didn’t even glance at Joel.

Anna came in behind you. She didn’t bother with the pretense of pretending not to cry, little trails of mascara running down her cheeks. But she smiled tightly at Joel and mouthed “hi” and he gave her a sad smile in return.

Joel watched as you, Anna and that fucking man settled into the front row, his arm going around your shoulders and tugging you against his side. Joel barely listened to the officiant at first, too busy focusing on you. You kept turning your head to look up at the man next to you and at one point he leaned over and kissed your temple and whispered in your ear. Joel ground his teeth.

But it was easy to pay attention when you got up to give your eulogy. You pulled your gold notebook out of your bag and carried it up to the podium. Your eyes were still red - he could see that, even from the back of the room - and your shoulders were hunched as you arranged the notebook in front of you. But you took a deep, shaky breath and looked up, back straightening and chin jutting out in defiance, jaw set tight.

“If I had to find one word to summarize my mother, it would be try,” you said. “She was made up of try, I think. She was always trying to make things better for my sister and I, always trying to build the life she wanted… I guess, in the end, trying just became too much for her…”

Your voice never wavered. It was stronger than Joel remembered but the tone and cadence were so familiar, so like home. Your eyes were red but you didn’t cry. You just stood there, fingers tight on your notebook that you only ever glanced down at, anyway.

Joel wanted to get up and hug you. You looked like you needed a hug. More than a hug. You looked like you needed someone to carry you for a while, like you needed someone to take you by the shoulders, look you in the eye and say “It’s OK. I’ll take it from here. Rest.” You needed it so much that Joel started to stand up, instinctively, when you finished your speech and headed back to your seat but the man you came in with met you near the podium, putting his arm around you and kissing the top of your head. Joel sat back down.

“She did good,” Tommy whispered as Joel stared straight ahead. For the first time, your eyes met his.

“Yeah,” Joel said, not looking away. “She did.”

After the service, there was a receiving line and Joel held Tommy back. He wondered if, maybe, he could get you alone that way. But that fucking guy was on you like glue, one of his hands on the small of your back he entire time. He was constantly directing you, constantly nudging you where he wanted you to be, adjusting you to stand how he wanted you to stand. Joel wanted to fucking punch him.

“Thank you for coming,” Anna smiled a little at him, her blue eyes lacking their usual spark. “I know it’s been a while but… well, Mom just loved you.”

Joel’s throat got tight.

“I loved her, too,” he said. “She was a great lady. Really.”

“Yeah,” Anna said, her voice wet as she looked back toward the casket. “Yeah, she was.”

Joel glanced at you, your fingers in a tight fist around the man’s shirt, your lips at his ear as he frowned a little. Anna looked back at him and followed his eyes.

“Don’t get me started,” she said, her voice low. “Mom wasn’t huge on him…”

Joel shook hands quickly with one of your aunts and then he was in front of you. He glanced over at the man and realized he recognized him. The man had to be twice your age, hair going gray and crows feet around his eyes. His chest got tight.

“Joel,” you said, one arm crossed over the front of yourself, clutching onto your opposite elbow. “Good of you to come.”

“Course,” he said. He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to shake your hand or not. What did you do with the person who was once your best friend, the person you lost your virginity to, when you hadn’t spoken in years? “Always loved your mom. She was always nicer to me than I deserved.”

You huffed at that and the man pressed a little closer to you, his hand firmly planted on your lower back. You stood up straighter before you looked toward Tommy and your face softened a little. “Good to see you Tommy. How’s school going?”

“OK,” he shrugged. “I’m passing. Missed you.”

You smiled ever so slightly.

“Missed you, too.”

“You could come visit, you know,” Tommy said.

“Tommy,” Joel hissed and he just looked up at him.

“What! She could.”

“It’s not a great time for me to be leaving school,” you said. “I’ve got classes all year and writing intensives all summer… I’m not sure when I’ll be back again.”

“Not even to see Anna?” Joel frowned.

“Anna can always come visit us,” the man at your back said. “Sorry to cut the reunion short but we should keep things moving…”

“We’re last in line,” Tommy protested.

“And the family needs to get to the reception,” the man said. “I’m sure you can share your thoughts there.”

“Right,” Joel said, looking from the man to you. “Sure we can. C’mon Tommy.”

“But…”

“Let’s go,” Joel cut him off. “Don’t want to be rude.”

Joel looked back over his shoulder to you when he made it to the doors, your head bowed and the man’s large hand at the nape of your neck.

“Guy’s an asshole,” Tommy muttered as he climbed in Joel’s truck.

“Yeah, well,” he sighed, grinding his teeth a little. “Goldie always had shit taste in men.”

Joel felt like he deserved a goddamn medal for sitting there, watching you with that fucking guy, silent at a table with your family, family made up of Anna and people he didn’t know. Because, besides Anna, they weren’t your fucking family. He was. Him and Tommy.

He kept watching for a moment to try to get you alone, some point where you were away from that man who kept fucking pawing at you and who looked like he was old enough to be your fucking father. He tried not to think about how shitty that was. To corner you at your mother’s funeral and force you to talk to him. But it was hard to really care.

The time for etiquette was long passed. He missed you. He kept thinking that, eventually, the feeling would fade. That he’d wake up in the morning and think of something besides you. That he’d stop looking for signs of you everywhere and in everything. That, eventually, some day, you wouldn’t be the first person he thought of talking to when he had a shit day or when something good happened to him. He couldn’t keep going like this, going on without the answers he should have fucking marched up to you and demanded years ago. Joel wasn’t the type to think the world owed him things but fuck, didn’t you? Didn’t you owe him something? Didn’t being inseparable things whose roots and branches had become so intertwined that one couldn’t live without the other mean that you had to at least tell him before you cut yourself away? You certainly didn’t seem to think so. He disagreed.

And then you came home with that guy, that fucking guy, the one who couldn’t possibly be good enough for you and you let him touch you and hold you and control you during what Joel knew had to be one of the worst times of your life. Did that guy even know? Did he know that your mom took you prom dress shopping and adjusted the hemline herself at the sewing machine in your living room? Did he know how you carefully removed the screen of your bedroom window to climb out of it so your mom wouldn’t hear you open the front door when you left to lay in the bed of Joel’s truck and star gaze at the park? Did he know how sad and kind your mother’s face was when she told him that you’d left town, moved to Rhode Island months earlier than planned, when he came by your house a few days after prom to demand answers?

Did you?

Eventually, you stood up and leaned down to whisper in the man��s ear and you left the room. The man watched you go and Joel waited for a moment before he followed you. The door you’d gone through led to a hall with bathrooms and an exit to the parking lot and he took a guess, hovering outside the ladies’ room door. He was right, and you nearly walked into him a minute later.

“Shit,” you said, sniffling a little. “Sorry…”

“S’OK,” he said quickly. “Thought I’d check on you. See if you wanted a drink.”

“A drink?” you raised your eyebrows at him. He had the strangest urge to trace the arch of them with his thumb.

“Yup,” he pulled his flask ever so slightly from his inside leather jacket pocket before tucking it away again. “Bullshit that the person who probably coordinated this whole thing can’t even fucking drink for it. Thought you could use one.”

“Jesus, could I ever,” you said, looking around quickly. “C’mon.”

You took his hand as though everything was normal and pulled him along behind you to the door, shoving it roughly open before stepping out into the cool November air.

“Oh shit, one sec,” you said, hovering by the door for a moment, holding it open with one hand and balancing on one foot. Joel laughed.

“What the fuck are you doin’ Goldie?”

“Making sure we don’t get locked out,” you replied, pulling your heel off and putting your shoe between the door and the frame, closing the heavy metal door delicately to make sure it stayed propped open. You limped awkwardly for a few steps before Joel just shook his head and went to you, looping his arm around your waist and half carrying you to the little partial wall that separated the restaurant from the parking lot. He set you down there and watched as you rolled and turned your ankle for a moment before stretching your foot out to a point. “Never buy heels, Joel. They’re not worth the pain.”

“Noted,” he smiled a little and pulled the flask out of his coat pocket before sitting beside you. He handed it to you first and you looked at it for a moment, smiling a little.

“This is familiar,” you said, a hint of fondness in your voice.

“Yeah but I bought the booze this time,” Joel said. You nodded slowly as you took a sip. You winced a little as it went down and handed it back to him. He looked at it for a moment, his finger tracing the neck of it. The metal shined a little, wet with you and the rum. He brought it to his lips, taking a drink. “So… how’re things?”

“You mean besides the fact that I’m here instead of working on final projects because my mom decided to slit her wrists in the bathtub?” You asked, brows raised. “Just peachy.”

“Sorry,” Joel flinched, handing you the flask again. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “That was a stupid question.”

You shrugged.

“And how are you?” You asked, pulling your arms in tight to yourself. “I know it’s… it’s been a while…”

“Well, someone I know changed their damn phone number,” Joel said, shrugging out of his coat and draping it over your shoulders. “But shit’s same as always. Or same as always for the last few years, anyway. Tommy is doing good in school right now. Got a job with some pretty steady work.”

You frowned, tugging the coat a little tighter to yourself. Joel was reminded of when you’d borrow his letterman years ago, how the sleeves swallowed your fingers because his arms were long enough that they had to special order his size. You’d always looked so fragile there, in his coat. You’d always looked so protected there, too.

“Did you already get your associates?” You took drink and handed the flask back.

“Nah,” he said, taking it. “Decided not to bother. What’s the point, just flunk out in a semester, maybe two. Figured I’d save myself a lot of grief and money and just cut to the chase, you know?”

He took a drink.

“That’s bullshit,” you said, gaping at him. “Joel, come on, it’s just two years, you can…”

“I can what?” He cut you off. “I can fuck around at community college, act like I was ever gonna amount to anything…”

“Of course you’re going to amount to something,” you interrupted him this time. “You already amount to something and…”

“I amount to something?” He asked, voice getting heated. “Really? Is that why you took off without a fuckin’ word? Just ditched me here, blocked me on fucking Facebook, changed your fuckin’ number? Because I amount to so damn much…”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what!” He was on his feet now and you flinched at his raised voice. “Don’t talk about it? Don’t point out the fucking obvious? Don’t actually hold you accountable for your shitty actions?”

“My shitty actions?” You gaped at him before you laughed darkly. “Oh wow, that’s fucking rich coming from you…”

“Yeah, yours!” He yelled. “Because I sure as shit don’t know what the fuck I did…”

“Bullshit you don’t know what you did,” you snapped. “Come on, Joel, don’t pretend that you’re dumb. Don’t pretend that I’m dumb. We both know…”

“I don’t know shit! I don’t know a fuckin’ thing when it comes to you, Goldie! I know you left! I know your mom wouldn’t give me your number! I know you apparently never even fucking thought about me…”

“You don’t know a goddamn thing…”

“I do know that you showed up here with that fucking guy!” He pressed on. “What the fuck is that? How old is he, hm?”

“It’s not your fucking business!”

“Should be someone’s fucking business!” He snapped. “Because he has to be, what, twice your age?”

“So what if he is? I’m an adult, I can do whatever I want with whoever I want…”

“An adult,” he laughed but there was no humor in it. “Adult, you can’t even buy your own fucking booze and you’re, what, fucking some 50-year-old man? What is he, your fucking professor, that it?”

“He’s 40!” You snapped, on your feet, awkwardly off balance with your missing shoe. “And who cares how I met him, he thinks I’m smart! He wants to be around me, he looks out for me, he…”

“He’s takin’ advantage of you is what he’s fuckin’ doing!” Joel’s chest was heaving. “Been watching him control you all goddamn day! You really think he cares about you? Knows you? You’re just gonna be one of many to him, Goldie, he probably does this with every pretty girl in his damn classes…”

“Does he propose to them?” Your left hand flew in between you, palm facing you as you held it up. There was a large, solitary oval diamond on your ring finger. Joel felt sick. “I’m not just some girl to him, I’m not just another lay in a long line of lays. He loves me, he respects me and I love him and I don’t need your fucking judgement, Joel.”

“Doll?” Joel’s head whipped around to see that fucking guy poking his head out of the door you’d propped open with your missing shoe. “Everything OK?”

“Fine,” you smiled a little and shrugged out of Joel’s coat, handing it back to him. “Just needed some air.”

“Folks are looking for you,” he said, looking over at Joel for a moment. “Should get back.”

“Right,” you said, taking a deep breath for a moment before looking back at Joel. “Good to catch up, I guess. You really should think about getting your associates at least. It’d do you good.”

You didn’t wait for him to respond, limping awkwardly for the door before delicately putting your foot into the black pump as your fucking fiance held onto you.

Joel gave himself a few minutes to calm down before going back inside and finding Tommy.

He didn’t stay.

Instead, he dropped Tommy at his mom’s house and headed to the bar near his apartment that he liked best. He played there sometimes, just him and his voice and his guitar, knowing full well that there’d never be a record label scout in the crowd but it felt good pretending.

It was still early, the bar pretty dead, and he took a seat off to the side before ordering a Shiner. He sat there, grinding his teeth and trying not to think of you with him. It wasn’t even that he got to be with you all the time instead of Joel. If you didn’t want Joel, fine, he wasn’t going to force himself on you but fuck, couldn’t you see what was right in front of you? That you deserved better than that?

“Hey.”

Joel almost jumped at the sound of someone next to him. He turned to find a woman there, about the same age as him. She was beautiful, with dark skin and curly hair and eyes it would be very easy to get lost in if he could get lost in anything right then.

“Hey,” he replied, looking back toward the bar and taking another sip of his beer.

“Mind if I sit here?” She asked.

Joel shrugged.

“Thanks,” she said, climbing up on the stool next to him. “Don’t really feel like dealing with the attention I get when I sit by myself but I desperately needed a drink…”

She leaned over the bar and flagged down the bartender before ordering a whiskey on the rocks.

“That good a day?” Joel asked after a moment.

“Something like that,” she sighed. Jimmy, the bartender, set her drink in front of her and she took a sip before sighing. “Looks like about the same for you.”

“Yup,” he said.

“Want to talk about it?” She asked after a moment.

“Not really,” he replied. She nodded. “You?”

“No,” she said. “I’m Ashley, by the way.”

“Joel.”

“Good to meet you, Joel,” she smiled a little.

He sat there with her for a while. He liked her well enough, he supposed. She was nice and lightly funny in a way that didn’t cut him deep. But when she smiled, she smiled like you. Slow and easy at first and then spreading wide like your whole self was cracking open with it. Fuck, he’d always loved making you smile like that. He missed making you smile like that.

So when he finished his beer and didn’t want to be away from that smile, not yet, he asked if she wanted to come back to his place.

“Sure,” she smiled like you. “That’d be nice.”

They skipped the pretense of it, not bothering to feel each other up on the couch or make a pot of coffee that would sit untouched until morning. Instead, they went straight to his bedroom, pawing at each other’s clothes and pulling their bodies free of their confines as quickly as possible.

Joel kissed her deep and hard and desperate and she pressed her soft, plush body against his and it felt good, getting lost in another person like this. It seemed like the only time in his life that he wasn’t stuck living at least halfway in some other reality where things had turned out different was when he was inside someone else. He sought it out like an addict, always searching for that next high, anything that would put him far away from the low he lived in. But he was careful. Always used a condom, always got at least some feel for the woman he was fucking first so he felt like he could trust her.

But he was reckless with Ashley. He needed to feel something else too bad to put much thought into any of it. He reached for his nightstand and fumbled in the top drawer, pulling the last condom from the box and making a mental note to buy more when he got paid next. He tore it with his teeth and realized too late that he’d caught more than just the foil pack when he did.

“Fuck,” he panted, already naked on top of her. “Do you have…”

“No,” she said, all breathless and needy below him. “But it’s OK. I’m on the pill and I’m clean. I’m OK with it if you are.”

He looked down at her in the darkness, the moonlight casting shadows over her face. But then she smiled at him, slow at first then all at once. Just like you.

“Really,” she said. “It’s fine.”

“Fuck it,” he said, lining himself up with her entrance, the soft, wet heat of her pulling him in.

“That’s the idea,” she smiled and then gasped as he pushed into her, chasing that high with her body below him.

He fucked into her until she came and then she pushed him on his back, fucking herself down on him and Joel looked up at her and got the sense that she was in this for the same reasons he was. That this had very little to do with him.

“Gonna come,” he warned, his hands on her waist. “Should pull out…”

“Don’t,” she panted. “About to come again, fuck, just… just let me…”

Her hands spread wide on his chest and she rode him harder, faster before pushing him in deep and coming around him, the pulsing of her walls setting off his orgasm, only aware enough to care for half a second before it hit that he shouldn’t be coming inside a total fucking stranger.

She collapsed on top of him and he held her for a moment, not able to shake the feeling that he’d just made a monumental mistake. It reminded him of the morning after prom, the morning after the last time he came inside someone without protection. How afraid he’d been that he’d ruined things for you, that he’d gotten you pregnant and destroyed your life. But he hadn’t. At least, not that he knew of. He just lost you instead.

Ashley left not long after, just a quick “Thanks, Joel. That was fun.” after he gave her a glass of water. They swapped phone numbers but, in the moment, it seemed like pretense. This was what you did after a one night stand to pretend like it wasn’t a one night stand. It felt better if you could lie to yourself and say that every random fuck was just the start of a relationship that didn’t pan out. He didn’t plan to call her. He didn’t expect to hear from her again.

He was wrong.

Next Chapter

A/N: We all know what happened there with Ashley, right?

OK, cool.

Hope you all enjoyed this little glimpse at the last time Joel and Goldie saw each other before they reunited at the same bar where Joel picked up Sarah's mom 12 years earlier! These two, they kill me, I swear.

Thanks so much for reading the menace that is high school best friend!Joel. I'm in love with him, I fear. I hope you are, too.

Love you!

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #halcyon

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