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lene-loki · 2 years

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Okay so get this Micheal kinsella being this scary person and a reader who just treats him with the most kindness anyone can be treated with?? I would love to see the magician be utterly confused and appreciative of the kindness

Ugh, my heart 🥺 I love it! And I hope you enjoy this Imagine ❤️

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Female!Reader

Warnings: None

No Prejudices

Being a Kinsella at times had more disadvantages than advantages.

Michael knew it all too well by now. The stares, the stories that have been told about his family and the awe people watched him with. Everyone seemed to know who he was and they were scared of him to say the least.

But he got used to it. That people changed the side of the street in fear, when they recognized him. It was all right with him - he even prefered it that way.

That was until he found himself losing the chance of seeing his daughter Anna again. It was made incomprehesibly clear to him that his reputation along with his life style was in no way an appropriate environment for a child. After that failed meeting with the social worker, Michael got even more grumpy.

That's why your co-worker immediately searched for you after he was gone. Intimidated to the brink and shaking in fear as if she just dodged a bullet, she begged you to take over the case of Anna Kinsella.

The last name wasn't foreign to you. You knew who the Kinsella's were like everyone else did but unlike everyone else you weren't biased on the family. You were raised to only ever see the good in people, to always be kind because no matter what a person did or what was said about them - everyone deserved kindness. Your co-worker often believed that you were too precious for this world. But on the other hand you were perfect to deal with the scary Michael Kinsella. You wouldn't get intimidated as fast as your colleague, treating him with the patience and friendliness your co-worker wasn't able to in fear.

"Are you sure that I can give you this case?" She asked unsure since you both never dealt with a murderer before. You nodded smiling.

Not wanting to get made prejudices by your colleagues, you set up an appointement with Michael to get to know him. Only then you were able to fully concentrate on the options of him seeing his daughter.

Michael wasn't really surprised to learn that him and his daughter got a new social worker. He just had that effect on peole running away from him in fear. It surely wouldn't take too long before you would give up his case as well.

Again he showed up at the office. This time in front of a different door. He's been only waiting for like two minutes before you came around the corner smiling brightly. You brought a light within you that he had never seen before and for a moment he wanted to shield his eyes. He reached out his hand to you but you could barely shake it because of the carton you were holding.

"Hello, I'm (Y/N) (Y/L/N)! You must be Mister Kinsella!" You greeted him with a happiness laced to your voice.

You sounded as sweet as you were cute.

Michael just nodded while you unlocked the door to your office, letting him in. After closing it again, you put the carton on your desk and started to get out whatever was hidden in there. Michael had do admit that he was a bit nosy as he took a seat opposite of you.

It was a platter with Cupcakes and you placed it right in front of him.

"I always prepare desserts to meetings. The children love it and the adults do too." You grinned, winking at the admittedly scary looking man. "No, thank you." He said dryly before you even could offer him one. "Are you sure? I baked them myself."

Again he didn't observe your smile as he seemed to avoid any eye contact with you. You cleared your throat and took your seat after a moment of silence. Not putting the sweet cakes away, you let him know that the offer still stands.

"As I've informed you already, I am know responsilble for you and your daughter, Mr Kinsella."

He got a little irritated of the way you said these words. You didn't sound like you were annoyed with ending up with the most notorious man in the city but rather excited in a positive way.

"Yeah, I know." Michael just grumbled. You let your eyes wander to take his form in. He sat tense in his stool, not relaxing even a bit since you two were in your office. He looked tired as well. The full beard, matched with the tattoos on his broad arm definitely had an intimidating effect and to judge by his attitude you understood why so many people were scared of him.

"Well, I wanted to get to know you first before I meet Anna." You informed him. You already had an appointement with his teenaged daughter in a few days.

"You sure you need to get to know me? I bet you already do." He let out a dry laugh, annoyed to be in a cross-examination again.

"Of course I know your criminal background, Mr Kinsella, but that doesn't make out your personality."

This time he laughed with a beautiful sound to it.

"You must be really naive if you truly think that." He spoke almost in a whisper, finally setting his gaze on you.

To his surprise your demeanor didn't change in the slightest. You still sat relaxed opposite of him with the warm smile plastered on your face. "It's not naive to think that. I met a lot of mother's and father's throughout my career that appeared to be distant as well, hiding behind the rumors about them, not caring if those would ever be enlightened. But that was just what you saw on the surface. Underneath they wanted everyone else to see their real selves. To learn that you do not get defined by your criminal history - especially not by me, can be a huge life-changer." You said softly. "I'm not sitting here to judge what you've did. I'm here to learn about your character. How you are underneath all of that armor you are building up around you to determine if it's safe for Anna."

Michael would have lied if he said that your words didn't touch something in his heart. A part he had long forgotten about after trying so hard to hide it from the rest of the world. But still he couldn't show you how he appreciated what you said. He wanted to try and be nice since you gave him no reason to be rude but he was just to blunted by the world to do so.

"Mr Kinsella, I can make a lot of different options possible that allow you to see your daughter, but I need you to work with me together to reach our goal. I am not your enemy." You showed him your heartwarming smile again.

Something moved inside of Michael and he couldn't look at you any longer. This just had to be an ambush. He couldn't explain otherwise to himself why you were so nice to him.

He even started to believe that you really wanted to help him.

But why?

You knew he was a Kinsella, you knew about his criminal activity and yet you were nothing but kind and patient to him, smiling and offering him homemade Cupcakes.

After looking in your eyes again, which shone brightly without a single indication of you having an ulterior motive, he decided to take that risk.

"Okay." He said quietly and showed you the best smiled he could manage. His lips were just in a straight line but you understood that he tried which made you grin even more wider.

"Great!" You said.

When Michael left your office he was still being utterly confused. He has been treated like garbage and a dangerous criminal for so long that he forgot how it felt like when someone was sincerely nice to him.

Thinking about you on his way home, he could feel the corners of his mouth start to rise higher and higher until he finally managed to smile as bright as you did.

For the first time in an eternity he smiled and could feel its light already melting the ice around his heart.

#michael kinsella #kin #kin amc #charlie cox #marvel #imagine #fluff #daredevil #matt murdock

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inkburnt · 2 years

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Seven years of friendship with @featherburnt is something special to mark! My dearest friend through thick and thin, you deserve all the love, appreciation. admiration and esteem you have coming, and more. ❤️ Naturally, I simply had to write something all for you! I know this celebration is about us, but this is how I wanted to go. I can’t do much more than write as you know.

I’ve watched your OCs go through it over the years, both the good and the bad, so here’s a little tribute to one I haven’t touched yet, until now—and, by extension, to your fantastic fic! I really hope I did him justice! ;v; I wanted to go with this particularly raw and wild angle, so I hope...yeah, I just hope akslfjdgsf. It’s not a lot and I feel kind of bad about that, but it’s something. And maybe with practice I can feel confident enough to dive even deeper and go bigger. But, for now, a snack. Keep going strong, bestie. ❤️❤️❤️

Teen–Mature // Words: 1,737 Warnings: N/A

——————————

Something was visceral about him. The scowl on his face surfaced without prompt, but that was hardly a novelty anymore. Life had changed too many years ago for the outcome to be any other, and recent years saw all of his grief culminate into something destructive. Something visceral: deep-seated seething. The fire in one's belly was, to him, a thing far beyond metaphor and proverb. And though it started in his gut, roiling and lashing and intensifying every day with the apparent aim to reach a fever pitch, and spurred on his hunger in so doing, it spread to his veins to boil his blood, pump the fire all throughout and fill his size and shape; a blaze to match his image.

A man on fire, if he dared with carelessness.

But at his age, fresh out of his adolescence, there was still very much boy in him and about him, and that helped to make him as raw as he was also calloused. The burns on his skin long healed were fresh as far as memory served; and where they rested to pull innocence out of youth, they went their own way in stoking the angry coals that only inexperienced youth could account for. Wet behind the ears no matter how much fire was expelled. Nothing short of time would suck the moisture out of his mind—so wrathful in how much it craved and languished, but as well unwieldy as his age would only rightly dictate. There was nothing for it. The belief that with torment comes sagacity is flawed when natural age has proven itself time and again the ultimate catalyst for growth. To see the world through a child's eyes will always differ from peering through an adult lens.

The sooner he learned that, the sooner he may heal. Choler and hatred, distrust and vengeance were fine sources from which the steel shielding his brain was forged. Stubborn to a fault, and the fruits were laid bare here. He would not have set himself on the hunt otherwise. In the rains that fled was a salty tang left to smother his nostrils and tease his palate. Black of night covered his haunting form. From his vantage point, all of life appeared infinitesimal. And though he loomed above like their silver-toned towers, he felt about as valued as the dirt-level cretins he once put away in the name of something that was greater than himself. It was souring to live within a cage of flesh and bone that had bowed so willingly to the demons stoking his fire. Something was visceral about that. About him. Strange his hunger, but strong his will as far as holding back in patience. It was for his quarry he hunted steadily for years, and for whom now he waited. It was for the reward he would reap that he exercised some judgment, but the tension in him was fragile and set to break the moment his psyche blew the horn, and he would more than readily dash forth like a hound on the hunt, hot on the trail and hard on the scent.

The buzzing of his brain rivaled the beating of his heart. Like the two, all of the life below him was loud. It was partly for the people he desired to protect that he found himself perched atop a roof none would bother to glance at. The call to take matters into his own hands was deafening even now. There comes a point when justice bleeds into its opposite, the line between need and want, and reason and impulse blurs. What is objective to one becomes subjective to another; but at its core, altruism.

He thought. Hoped.

And even then, there was very little of that left.

Accrued over the years was insult upon insult upon insult to the first injury, the original sin. Not one of his own making, but all the same he would arm himself with guilt and blame, and self-flagellate with both. His hands were bloodied one way or the other, and to a heart drowning in bitter waters he may as well have done the killing himself. The source of all his discontent, the thing that made him malcontent, was breathing and walking tonight. He had been led to believe as much, and he would not chance to lose the trail. So much the child, he wished for death unto those who more than earned it; and he wished it from his own claws and teeth, and he may risk it all in so doing; and his blood may run warm and free when all is laid to rest, but if he should have his satisfaction—closure be damned—then he would deem it all worthwhile. Something was visceral about that. A feeling come from the bowels of the beast, maddened hunger like a dog deprived of meat. Tears had stung his eyes countless times more than the smoke from his body. The latter, however, had been catching up. Which of the two would drive him over the brink? The thought did cross, he did brood over it. The time, however, to preserve himself may have met its end with the nearing of his goal; and, following, ushered forth the coming of a point from which there was no return.

The boy pushed, and pushed hard.

In his gloves his fists flexed rhythmically, clench and unclench—breathe, breathe, listen. In his ears the wind howled; he nearly mistook it for his fire's roar. His guts stirred and his muscles twisted; from deep-seated seething came not only an urge, but a change, and with this change a summer's warm wind that tempted sweat from his pores. The cold of the air melted within an inch of the five-foot-five furnace. Hellfire infernal, the hellish hound its master—and if he was lax in his caution, it would swallow him up again. There was, after all, a reason he feared the powers that were unfit for man; and all the same, as if in arrogant defiance, man made them fit. The boy followed suit, no better and no worse than everyone else who had deemed themselves apt. His dream, in his hands. So where had it gone wrong?

Like a fly, drawn to decay. He waited to smell it on the wind.

Beneath his mask, his face contorted into something better left unseen. No deal with the devil struck for this when willpower was everything and more. Not even the powers that be had roped him down, but vigilantism was a crime punishable anyway; and if not them, someone else was certain to do something about it. No amount of good intent would change that. He had made his peace in that regard, largely. Life had changed too drastically these past few years to afford him any different. To be the lone wolf was easy; but when the fire burns too hot, he can count on no one but himself to put it out. How else to cope but to live day to day, and think of little else but the food he put in his stomach, the muscles he trained to success, and the rogue he happened to come across pilfering someone's wallet. But spring was much a season of beginnings, and as moist as the air had been at this height, it was just as enlivening. In whirling all around him and making a shambles of his tied hair, it was doing some little good in offering him a semblance of freedom. To every side of him, only air. Everything from his soles down was a concern separate, and if he had any less heart in him, a concern unimportant.

A child's heart is yet soft when adolescence ends. No matter the scars it bears, it tenderly bleeds. His hasn't tired of that yet, and he had not wanted it to. Not, at the very least, when it came to a calling he had harbored in his heart. Only recently had he turned away from it in practice, but in theory it nevertheless persisted within. Some things were still greater than himself, and even as he waited on a rooftop with his eyes obsessively searching for the life he planned to take, he believed that there were still greater goods to fight for, and he believed further that he could still do the fighting. Little else placed him atop the city, searching and hunting and hungering behind the mask so cleverly worn. He had a good number of them, and ready replacements whenever his psyche would fail and his front would fall before the stresses of his hunt. To cover his face was not sufficient when something much softer lay beneath, at twice the risk. Something was visceral about him. A boy of deep feeling and deeper instinct, sensitive where he was bruised, fearful when the phantoms haunted, unshakable in his beliefs, tempestuous at his core. A twister from the depths of hell, of fire and brimstone, of meat and muscle, of blood and breath.

Tear them down before they tear into you.

Purpose brought him hither and purpose stayed the fangs. With every fiber of his seething, stewing, storming being he would save all the lives that he physically could with what he planned here, this night. Like a demon pulled from the abyss, smoking and sulfuric, he sought to stifle his prey; and with an abandon diabolical, sinewy and sharp, he aimed to shred to ribbons and tatters flesh and fabric he had been deathly hungry to snuff out. Nothing less than that would satisfy, and this he knew, and it wounded him as much as it thrilled. Visceral, visceral!

Murder in the name of justice was not so abhorrent. Murder in the name of justice was something one could look past, recover from, live with. It did not have to be the end of all things, or the beginning of others. There was necessity in this, the need itself so shockingly organic that it imbued every heated fiber with a purpose unmatched and equally unquenchable. That man had to die! To pay for all of his transgressions—to thwart any other, to secure a future—he had to die!

His scent was on the wind but sight of him reached focused eyes first. The call was sounded, chains unfettered.

“Cry 'Havoc!' and let slip the dogs of war.”

#featherburnt #wow actual writing #gift work #Hurrah for friendaversary!

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marc-spectorr · 2 years

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hiya!! <3

good sunday morning/afternoon/night to you callie. :] so glad you enjoyed my hcs!! means a lot, they’re massive brainrot and honestly i’m glad they aren’t totally incomprehensible teehee.

have a few things to say today, so this may get a bit long. apologizes.

my favorite fic by you? that’s tough! since i followed you i read a lot more, obviously i’m a sucker for the fluffy stuff, and all your works are immaculate on that front. but yeah, obviously i love for all you give, it’s a massive comfort fic at this point. but i also love love love somewhere only we know. absolutely adorable, and so immersive. the vibes from the book store were great, could feel like i was physically there at times n could practically smell the pages of old, dusty books and freshly brewed coffee. :D it’s one of those fics that really captured my imagination and made me think about what happened next a while after i finished reading, which is very hard to pull off. you’re very talented callie, you’re making me want to start writing again.

hiya teddy!! you’re a very kind soul too. <3 you give off the coziest vibes, and i hope your weekend treats you better, plus your exams go well. this time of the year is so stressful on that front, but once it’s done it will all be so worth it. please keep that in mind, and don’t stress too much about academics. i’ve been there before, and it isn’t pretty. just know everyone at the book club is in your corner. :]]]

finally, callie, please don’t stress about cuffed part three. the book club appreciates you so so much, and we all understand that sometimes life just gets in the way of things. none of it is your fault, and none of us will hold it against you. you already give away incredible writing, for free at that, and we couldn’t be more grateful w what we already have. take care of yourself, you deserve that. <3

- <3

awhhehe thank you tons for sharing with me your favorite fics!! but omgg, i hope you do start writing again tho 🥺 i’m being serious, your hcs were so beautifully written and it made me smile so hard while reading them. i would love to read some more from you 💕

also your message to teddy is so sweet. ugh I really love our little circle here 😭 it’s so adorable how were all interacting with each other hahakshsjdj. but i second with what you said here, lovey. once your all done with these exams teddy, it’s going to be the best feeling ever!! so hang in there babe and hope you’re not stressing too much :)

oh my thank you again darling for your support 😭 i know i sound like a broken record at this point but i’m just incredibly grateful for everyone’s patience and kindness??? honestly before i joined tumblr, life was tough to say the least, but this lovely space we share on the internet has been such a highlight these last few weeks, you all have made a wonderful impact on me and i cant thank you enough ❤️

okay i gotta stop with all the sappy posts haha. but hope your doing wonderful today and ttyl honey ✨

#asks #<3 anon

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bots-and-cons · 2 years

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Hi! I have another request, but I want to thank you for writing that minimized/human K.O and y/n fic I requested! I love it! So, I was wondering if I could request y/n getting some cuddles with K.O and smokescreen? Maybe wheeljack? (Not poly) It could be tooth rotting sweetness or after angst, it's completely up to you! Luv ya! Hope your doing well and have a great day/night! ❤️

You're welcome, I enjoyed writing it. I hope you’re doing well too. Idk about cuddles, but it’s certainly fluffy. For Knockout I did bot!reader, for Smokes it’s human!reader. There’s no nsfw in this but for the sake of the joke, spike=dick, like usual

~Smokescreen~

You were having a bit of a bad day, and Smokescreen knew that, so he wanted to surprise you. He asked, or more like begged Jack to buy some flowers that he could give you. Smokescreen knew that sometimes humans gave their partner flowers and it seemed like a very nice gesture, so he wanted to try it too.

Smokescreen got his flowers and before going to pick you up, he swung by the base to drop off the flowers. He was very careful when handling them, because he didn’t want to break a single one.

When he finally arrived to pick you up, you had been standing outside for a while, since even though it was winter, the weather was nice.

“Hey” he said as you sat in the front seat.

“Hey to you too” you said with a yawn.

“I take it you didn’t sleep too well?” Smokescreen inquired.

“Yeah, but it’s my own fault. I spent the night watching some shows and the time got away from me”

“What did you watch?”

“Remember that anime I showed you? Demon slayer? I binged the newest season, so I’m now up to date with that and I watched some other stuff too”

“Cool”

Smokescreen drove to the base, while you kept talking about the shows that had kept you up almost all of last night. When you got to the base, you hopped out and Smokescreen transformed to his bot form.

“I have a surprise for you” he said as he lifted you to his shoulder.

“Okay?” you said with a bit of reservation in your voice. Smokescreen’s surprises didn’t always really go as planned.

Smokescreen walked to the door of his habsuite, but before opening it, he told you to close your eyes. You did as you were told.

You could hear the door opening and you had to grab one of the edges of Smokescreen’s shoulder plating so you didn’t fall when he started moving. He set you down on what was probably his berth, since it was so high up, and it’s not like he had any furniture. You could hear him shuffling around a little, before he told you to open your eyes.

In front of you was the biggest bouquet of flowers you’d ever laid your eyes on. It had so many different flowers and you didn’t even recognize most of them.

“Omg” you said with your mouth hanging open.

“I wasn’t sure what flowers you liked, so I told Jack to get a bit of everything” he said as you took the bouquet to yourself.

“I love them… But you didn’t make Jack pay for them, right?”

“No no, I asked agent Fowler for the money, and I had to pretty much beg for it before he gave it to me” Smokescreen said awkwardly.

“Okay, that’s good then” you smiled.

You smelled the flowers and even though the scent was a mix of all the different kinds of flowers, it still smelled pleasant, even though the scent was very strong.

“Can I ask, what’s the occasion?” you continued.

“No occasion, I just wanted to make you feel appreciated”

“Well you certainly achieved your goal, thank you Smokes” you smiled widely. “Give me your hand” you requested as you carefully set the flowers down next to you.

Smokescreen offered his hand to you, and you grabbed two of his digits and brought them to your forehead. You just held them there for a while, before saying: “Thank you for making me feel loved”

“Of course, you do that for me everyday. I know I can be a bit of a reckless idiot sometimes, but I’m glad you still have the patience to love me” he grinned happily.

~Knockout~

You and Knockout had both been working long days on the Nemesis. Sure you both were medics and worked in the medbay, but you had barely had time to pay any attention to each other outside of work, because so many injured had come in after another fight with the autobots.

When the two of you finally finished, you were both exhausted, so you pretty much just headed for your shared habsuite and planned on recharging for the next day.

“I’m beat” you said as the two of you walked to your habsuite and you stretched your arms and back.

“Me too” Knockout yawned.

“We had a lot of patients again. It’s always like this when they come back from fighting, and I feel like less and less of the vehicons are returning each time” you sighed.

“I know, it’s not good” Knockout said.

“I just wish this whole war would just stop, there’s no point to it anyway, and now we’re just trampling another planet for no reason”

“They’re just having a spike measuring contest at this point” Knockout said, which made you chuckle.

“You’re not wrong” you said with a tired smile.

You got to the habsuite and walked in, Knockout locked the door behind him. It was just out of habit, since sometimes the vehicons that kept the Nemesis tidy would just go into a habsuite without knocking, because so many of them were empty these days.

“I know you take it hard, losing so many of our friends and fellow decepticons” Knockout said.

“This might sound a bit bad, but I’m pretty much used to it. We’ve been at war for what? Five million years now? I don’t really have anyone left anymore, aside from you I mean” you said, as you laid down on the berth, staring at the ceiling with one of your hands behind your head.

“You’ll always have me, I promise” Knockout said as he laid down next to you, putting a servo on your chest and snuggling to your side.

You wrapped your other arm around his shoulders and squeezed him closer.

“I know, and I love you so much Knocky, but you shouldn’t make promises you’re not sure you can keep” you said, you always were a bit of a pessimist, or maybe just a realist in this matter.

“I can keep it though, and you know me, I wouldn’t lie to you”

“I hope that’s true, I hope I’ll never lose you” you said and ran your digits up and down his upper arm.

“You won’t” Knockout assured.

You just held Knockout tightly, even when he fell into recharge mode, you stayed awake. He was your only source of light in the darkness of this war, and if he ever were to be extinguished, you would surely be lost.

#transformers #tfp #transformers prime #autobots #decepticons #smokescreen #knockout #tfp scenarios #transformers fluff #transformers angst #comfort #reader insert #transformers x reader #tfp x reader

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pentechnics · 3 years

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Blooming

Chapter 11 of Of Love and Time

Summary: You take some time to sort through your thoughts and emotions; Grogu just wants two of his favorite people to smile; your patience runs thin and your stress grows to be too much to handle.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (no y/n)

Series content: teacher/parent AU, fluff, slow burn, lots of mutual pining, sexual tension, mentions of past trauma (tagged in detail for specific chapters), depictions of violence (nothing explicit, no gore), angst, a dash of hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, Grogu is at the equivalent age of a human 4-year-old and can speak

Notes: All aboard the feels train, friends! Here we go! I'm excited to bring you into this portion of the story; there will be a lot going on but hopefully it'll all still be a good time! This one was hard to write, something wasn't sitting right and it didn't click until right when I got ready to post it lol. Any guesses as to what's different about this one? Also pls bear with me, chapter 12 is going to be really involved and I anticipate it being a Long Boi so it may take a bit longer than normal to put it together. Thank you in advance for your patience!

Thank you all so much for sticking by, I hope you enjoy this one! Lots of love to you! ❤️ p.s. drop me the word "bacon" if you caught the little reference I put in here lmao!

Taglist under the cut, let me know if you’d like to be added!

Chapter content: mention of vomiting, nothing descriptive

Time was cruel. It went on whether you wanted it to or not, dragging your body and soul through its sharp thorns and burning coals. Each laceration they caused on your existence came by slowly and lasted far too long.

Your mind was restless. Every waking moment was filled to the brim with the shouts of your anger, your fear, your guilt, your pain. It would get so loud that it made you nauseous.

Returning to work the next week was more difficult than it had ever been. You didn’t even greet the children at the gate the way you normally would those first couple days, instead waiting for them at the classroom’s front door. Grogu was so happy to see you, but as much as you loved his smile, he was an inevitable reminder of the pain that surrounded the situation you’d created with Din.

Despite it all, you refused to rob the children of their goodbye ritual. You would walk them to the gate and give them their due handshake, hug, or high-hand, and hated the relief that came with noticing that Boba was the one to come pick Grogu up. He wouldn’t try to start a conversation, instead just nodding your way before taking off, sometimes giving you a grin if he wasn’t wearing his helmet. He had to have known what happened between you and Din; you appreciated him giving you space.

You were able to set your problems aside during most of that week, refocusing on what the priority should be: the children’s education and wellbeing. But as the next one rolled around, you still not having any contact with Din or reaching any kind of consensus with your feelings, the toll of your stress was beginning to bleed into your work.

It became harder to get yourself out of bed. You were having a tougher time keeping up with the kids during play time, or maintaining your energy while you taught. You’d head home almost right away once the day was done and collapse on your couch, completely exhausted.

You sat at your table that Thursday evening, a simple dinner of vegetable stew and rice placed in front of you. You took slow bite after slow bite, but the food had no taste. Another phenomenon that had been plaguing you as of late. You chewed on each bit of it, trying to find the usual comfortable sensation that a warm meal brought to you.

Nothing.

You sighed and poked at your food, mind wandering to the one man that had taken over your thoughts for months now.

You tried to contact Din. Several times. But each time you scrolled to his name in your comm and pulled up the message feed, the nausea returned. What would you say? How would you say it? You left him in such a cruel and vague way, and you didn’t know how to fix it, no matter how much you wanted to. You typed out several messages over the past week and a half only to delete them and shove your comm away.

What if he was mad? He had every right to be. What if he took it out on you? You caused it, so you presumed it’d be warranted. What if he didn’t want anything to do with you anymore? That’s what scared you most.

He let you in so deep — even going so far as to lift his helmet in your presence — and you pushed him away. You wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t trust you anymore. But that didn’t prevent the undeniable pain the possibility brought. It seared through you, like a burning dagger being plunged into your flesh. Your face contorted as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You cradled your head in your palm.

You were miserable without Din as it was. The idea of causing him pain, and of possibly throwing away any kind of future bond with him, made it all the worse. How the hell were you supposed to remedy any of this?

~~~

Grogu walked up to you after school the next day from his usual post at the end of the assembly line. But unlike most days, he didn’t immediately go into your routine. You scrunched your brow as he stood before you, eyes silently focused on a spot on the ground while he thought.

“Miss, I have a question.”

“What’s up, bud?”

He looked up at you while he wrung his fingers together.

“I’m worried about Papa.”

Fear shot through you in an instant, gluing you in place. Did something happen to Din?

“He’s been sad lately.”

You took in a breath through your nose, a slight ache entering your lungs from their momentary lack of use. This wasn’t much better than what you were assuming.

“He used to get happy again when I gave him a picture, but now that only works for a little bit.”

He dropped his arms to his sides and pouted. You sighed.

“I’m so sorry to hear that. It must be hard for you to see him like that.”

He nodded.

“He likes it when I talk about you, too, but that didn’t work either.”

Another scorching wound to your heart. Guilt rose back up in your gut; the thought of Din growing happy at the mention of you — a happiness Grogu actually witnessed on his face — tore you up. You hated being responsible for Din’s pain, and now by extension, Grogu’s concern.

“He really likes you, Miss, can you do something to make him happy again?”

You bit down hard on your lips while you looked into Grogu’s big, pleading eyes. You wanted so badly to just wave a magic wand and take all of his troubles away. In a way there was something that could be done, you thought, but it wasn’t that easy. Maybe helping Grogu process this would suffice for now.

“You know, bud,” you started as you fully sat on the ground before him. “It can be hard to see someone we love be sad and not be able to fix it. It kinda makes us feel helpless, right?”

He nodded.

“Yeah, that’s not a nice feeling, is it?”

He shook his head. You took one of his hands in yours.

“But one thing that’s important to remember is that sometimes we have to feel sad in order to be happy again. We need to take time and feel all our feelings, make sure we can understand them. It helps us learn different things about life. Does that make sense?”

He tilted his head with a furrowed brow. You smiled. The motion reminded you of his father.

“It’s like the weather,” you continued, “Sometimes we need to have darker rainy days before we can have the bright sunny ones. They help keep everything balanced, and they bring you things that sunny days can’t.”

His eyes lit up in recognition.

“Oh, okay! But I like rainy days better.”

“I do, too,” you said with a giggle. “Same thing happens — on sunny days, your body gets warmth from the sun and that keeps you healthy. And rainy days can’t give you that. But when it rains you can run around in it all day because you already got everything you needed from the sunny day. You gotta have both kinds of days because they both bring you important things.”

“Oh! So Papa needs the sunny day before he can be happy again?”

“That’s right, bud. Even someone as strong as your papa might need some time to sit in the sun and get warm before it rains again. And that can be a good thing. Just because it doesn’t happen right away doesn’t mean he won’t be okay soon.”

Grogu looked down and wrapped his little fingers around yours, a more serious tone painting his complexion.

“Okay.”

“I think it’s very sweet that you’re so worried about him, Grogu. It means you love him very much.”

You leaned down to catch his sight.

“And I think telling him that will help, too.”

He nodded again.

“I love Papa a lot. More than anything. I want him to smile.”

Me too, bud, you thought. You didn’t even know what that smile looked like, yet here you were, missing it all the same. You gave Grogu’s hand a squeeze.

“He will, sweetheart. It might just take some patience.”

“Okay,” he said with another nod. “Thank you, Miss.”

He held out his arms and you accepted him into your embrace. You squeezed him close for a moment before letting him go and watching him run to Boba.

When the duo was out of sight tears pricked at your eyes. You wouldn’t wish this kind of misery on anyone, much less Din, and learning about his pain made you more angry with yourself.

You couldn’t keep this up — it would only hurt you both more. And the longer this went on, the higher the risk of hurting Grogu as well.

You had to sort yourself out.

You headed back to the classroom to collect your things. You were packing away your work comm in your desk when a knock at the door caught your attention. It was Bo, a teacher from a neighboring classroom. Your brow rose as he walked in, a tinge of annoyance entering your gaze.

Of all the coworkers it could’ve been, it had to be him.

“Sorry to barge in,” he started, “but I’m out of tape. Could I snag some from you?”

“Sure,” you said as you stood and headed to your supply closet. You grabbed a few rolls from the neat stack and turned, slightly tripping on your feet in the process. You tried to laugh it off as you walked over and handed Bo the tape, but he fixed you with a stare.

“Are you... doing okay?”

“Yes, just a little slip of the sole is all.”

He didn’t seem convinced. He quirked his brow.

“You sure? I don’t want to pry, but... you seem a bit... off.”

You furrowed your brow in return. That tone did not portray any sense of genuine worry. And why was he speaking so slowly?

“I appreciate your concern, Bo, but I can assure you I’m fine.”

You crossed your arms over your chest to accentuate your stern words.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?”

You were grateful when he took the hint and stepped back, hands in the air.

“Nope. Thank you for the tape.”

You nodded. He stared at you for another second, mouth twitching upward before he walked out of your classroom. A slight quirk of his knees followed each step he took. You sighed once he left your field of vision and closed the door. You got along with most of your coworkers, but Bo had always been a little difficult. He was brilliant with his students — engaging, kind, an effective educator. But when it came to the adults, he was more closed off, often coming off as pompous. On the rare occasions you spoke or worked with him you’d give him the benefit of the doubt for the sake of workplace camaraderie, but your patience was too thin for him today.

Maybe you were a bit harsher than you had to be. But he was also being kind of invasive, you thought.

You finished packing up your belongings and rushed out of the classroom, hoping you wouldn’t have to see him again on your way out.

~~~

Your arm was linked with Din’s as you strolled through the park, a gentle breeze caressing your skin. You were laughing at something he said and squeezed his arm. He pulled you closer.

“I love that sound,” he said. Your face flushed.

“Yours is the best one, though.” You replied.

“I have to disagree,” he said with a shrug.

A drop on your head caught your attention before you could respond, and rain suddenly began to pour down on you both. You laughed even harder while the cold water soaked through your clothes. Din looked around and led you to a small gazebo that stood in the middle of the grassy field.

You giggled despite your shivers. Din removed his cape and wrapped it around you before encasing you in his arms. His body heat embraced your damp skin while the cape protected you from his beskar. The sensation was so healing and comforting, much like his love. He could make every sun in the galaxy cower in shame.

You looked up at him. How lucky you were to be in this moment with him, you thought to yourself. You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck and breathed him in, mumbling a small ‘thank you.’ A hiss filled your ears as he tipped up his helmet and placed a kiss on your head. You smiled.

“Is this helping?” he asked. You nodded against him.

“Very much.”

“I’m glad.”

He squeezed you in closer, raising a hand to the back of your head to play with your hair as the rain poured around you both.

“Actually,” you began after a moment as you looked up at him. “I might need another kiss to help me warm up.”

“Oh, really?” he said with a teasing tone and a tilt of the head.

You nodded, giving him the most serious face you could muster. He chuckled.

“Very well, then.”

He reached up to lift his helmet again, revealing his smiling lips as he leaned in.

Your eyes snapped open. Moisture leaked from them and trailed along your temples. A gritty bitterness flooded you. The fabricated image of Din’s grinning face was all you could see, no matter how much you tried to blink it away. Why was your subconscious being so heartless? You sighed and dragged yourself out of bed.

You gazed out your window as you had your breakfast in the living room, taking in the sunny Saturday morning. A few neighbors strolled by, and a speeder made its way down the road. The streets were otherwise quiet. Maybe a little walk would do you some good, you thought.

After finishing your meal you did just that. The air was crisp and fresh, a relieving sensation filling your lungs with each breath. There was a small breeze kicking up leaves in the street; their random dances were entrancing.

The calm kinetics around you were the perfect backdrop for examining your thoughts. You started with one of the bigger ones: your position. Being with Din the way you have been was a huge conflict of interest, and now that something had actually happened between you both, there was no escaping the consequences. You couldn’t just keep this quiet, even if the school year would only last a few more weeks. What was the best way to approach it? You had no clue. That was why you hadn’t talked to Gila about it yet — there were so many things to consider.

You feared for Grogu and Din. They had trouble fitting in with the other families when they first arrived, and when the Show and Tell incident occurred they faced even more issues; you feared this situation would jeopardize the trust they’ve since been given, the trust they worked hard to get. Grogu loved his classmates so much, and the thought of him being ostracized because of your relations with his family sent pain through your stomach.

You didn’t have to think twice about how much you adored that little green bundle of joy. Seeing him grow and thrive both at school and with his family was amazing. Through the toughest of times, he kept pushing, and you couldn’t help how proud you were. You wanted to keep seeing him grow, and be there to help if he needed you. For the moment you pushed aside the nagging guilt for getting so attached to him in favor of gratitude regarding his placement in your life. It made your heart swell.

And then there was Din. He had come so far — coming out of his shell and bonding with other guardians, involving himself in activities and conversation. He underwent a beautiful metamorphosis right before your eyes and it crushed you to imagine the possibility of him losing that progress.

Hurting either of them because of this situation was the last thing you wanted.

Your job aside, there was also the question of what was going on with your heart. It was clear you and Din had feelings for each other. And you weren’t sure how to handle it. You hadn’t expected a small crush to lead to whatever this was in general, let alone have your feelings be reciprocated. You thought back to your past, to relationships both romantic and otherwise that you held. The memories of feeling wanted and loved in the beginning were sweet and warm, but as they evolved over time and became instance after instance of being taken advantage of, trampled on, and then cast aside like garbage, familiar sensations of cold sadness and bitter grief took over.

You could tell Din wasn’t like that. But your instincts weren’t enough to erase your scars. You’d need reassurance from him. He’d have to spell out how he felt about you, why he trusted you enough to let you in as much as he has. You needed to know for sure that this was what he wanted, if he even still wanted it after the way you ran out on him. You sighed and shook your head.

Din was the first person in a very long time that made you want to relearn how to love.

Love.

What a word. It stopped you in your tracks. You weren’t sure if it applied to him yet, but it was definitely close enough to make your heart skip a beat.

You wanted it. You wanted to feel that way about him. You wanted to do the work to heal yourself and accept whatever his feelings might be. You bit your lip as anxiety started to pool in your gut.

‘No,’ you said to yourself, trying to stop the train before it took off, ‘it’s okay to feel this way. It’s okay to want love.’

You took a deep breath. You had a lot of work ahead of you, but that starting thought sent relief through your veins.

Were you ready for all of this? Unclear. But sitting around and waiting for an arbitrary symbol or sign that may never show up seemed like a bad idea. And life was not going to wait with you. It was time to act for yourself.

A faint, echoed voice interrupted your moment.

‘... Just this party in the garden.”

You glanced up. An older man was crossing the road to your side of the street, speaking loudly into his comm. His back was turned to you, a long cape ballooning behind him with each step.

“How ‘bout you don’t? …Wait- but that’s just a stick!”

You let out a small laugh. Without context you could only guess what that conversation was about. You kept walking.

That man must’ve been talking about the community garden just beyond you, outside of which several folks were gathered on the grass and conversing with each other. Picnic tables held arrays of food and drinks; children ran about with kites and other games; adults watched on. You held back a frown. You were hoping for some more seclusion. And it was all a bit too reminiscent of recent events.

A neighbor spotted you and waved.

“Want to join us?” they asked.

“No thank you,” you called back, “just out for a walk. I appreciate it though!”

They nodded and resumed their conversation. You headed to the backside of the garden, devoid of any party-goers. You looked out into the grassy field, taking in its contrast to the cerulean sky. Memories of your last visit to this spot — late night jetpack flights and speeder bike rides — made your heart flutter. A smile stretched across your face as you recalled the view from above. The feeling of soaring through the air, with Din’s arms holding you against his strong frame. Hearing him laugh, and seeing him show off his skills.

The joy you felt that night was unlike anything you’d known before.

You turned and headed into the floral section of the garden. Some more new blooms had joined the floral rainbow, including one that shocked you. Your jaw dropped as you stepped up to it.

The mystery plant had begun to bloom. It stood tall — just a little taller than yourself — and its flowers glowed a magnificent deep amethyst. Each of its many petals flowed into a small spike, making each distinct point of the flower stand out and proud. Dark pollen stems stuck out from the middle. Silver veins weaved through each petal, matched by a silver sheen decorating the underside that perfectly accentuated their intense violet hue.

They were stunning.

You inspected the rest of the plant; not every bud had bloomed just yet. You wondered how long these specimens had been showing off their glorious selves. How long they’d last before wilting.

You reached up and ran one of the soft petals through your fingertips.

“Look at you,” you whispered, “you’ve come so far.”

Your smile faded when your heart started to ache; you wanted Din to see the flowers. The weight of his absence bled into your senses as you recalled the memory of him standing beside you, trying to scan this plant. Your skin tingled where it had come into contact with his cuirass. You took a deep breath.

Your brother aside, you were sure you’d never missed someone this much.

You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when Din had built himself into the architecture of your happiness, of your days, of your dreams. But he did. And you wanted him to stay. To live in that structure alongside the other pillars that made up who you were and why you loved your life. To be part of its future additions.

To exist with you.

And you wanted to exist with him, and Grogu, and the beautiful family they had built together.

You wanted to live your life with Din.

The realization almost brought you to your knees.

~~~

The black expanse of your dreamless sleep faded away. Your dark room came into view as your body lurched upward in your bed.

Something was not right.

Your hand clasped over your mouth as you quickly kneeled at your trash can and hurled, your stomach unable to wait until you got to the bathroom.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, coughing and heaving, before your breath slowly began to even out. You reached an arm up to your nightstand and plucked a tissue from the box to wipe your face. You threw it in the trash with your sick and tied the bag shut with quivering hands. Your sore lungs struggled as they took in one jittery breath after another, your throat burning with each one.

It was still dark out. The twilight sky along with the blurred glow of a nearby streetlight spilled through the edges of your curtains. You glanced at the clock on your nightstand — it was 4am. There was no way you could go into work like this.

You groaned as you crawled back to your bed, but not before grabbing a fresh bag to keep nearby. You wrestled your comm out from under your blanket, flinching as the screen burned your dilated eyes. Shaking thumbs typed out a short and flimsy message to Gila before collapsing onto the bed once more.

Your head was throbbing. Your arms were tired. Every move of your muscles felt as though you’d just swam across the entire planet, or lifted a herd of Banthas with your bare hands. It was so cold, yet you were sweating. With a grumble you pulled your covers up and let your head thump against the padding of your headboard. Your eyes were so dry, producing tears as you closed them and attempted to sleep once more.

~~~

“Girl! Are you okay?”

You pulled your comm away as Gila’s voice penetrated your eardrums, irritating your aching head. You were grateful that the head of your bed didn’t face the windows; the Monday morning sun’s reflection off your walls and furniture was already too much for your weary senses as you looked around.

“I’m okay, Gila. But I can’t risk getting the kids sick. I’ll let you know how I feel tomorrow.”

“Are you kidding me? No, you are staying home all this week. No question.”

You furrowed your brow. “Gila, I don’t think that’s nec-”

“Ah-ah, no. As your boss, I’m saying you’re staying home for the week, even if you’re better in five minutes. Waking up barfing in the middle of the night is never a good sign, hon. And that message was the least coherent thing I have ever seen from you. Please listen to your body and rest.”

“Fine,” you said with a sigh. “I’m sorry to cause any trouble.”

“No such thing, we’ll take care of it. I’ll cover your class today and then call one of our subs for the rest of the week. I guarantee you the kids will be in good hands, okay?”

“Okay, I trust you. Thank you, Gila.”

“No worries! Do you need anything? I can come by and bring whatever you need, or if there’s anything else-”

“No, no. Thank you, but it’s totally fine. I can take care of this.”

“You sure? I don’t know how good an idea it is for you to be alone in that state.”

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” your tone grew a bit more firm, though you were sure its impact was partially lost by the soreness of your throat. You heard a static sigh come through the comm.

“Whatever you say,” came her sing-song response. “You call me if that changes, okay? And get some more sleep!”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Feel better!”

~~~

After hanging up the call with you, Gila checked the clock. 9:45am — just enough time for her to make one more call before the school day was to begin. She narrowed her eyes and scrolled around on her comm before pressing a button, elbows coming down to rest on her desk as she waited.

“Hey, just the guy I was looking for!” She said once the link was connected.

“All is well, I just had a question. Can you come by after school today? I need a favor.”

She listened for a response.

“Trust me, man, you’ll want to hear this. I wouldn’t be asking you if it wasn’t important.”

She listened again before grinning.

“Great. See you then.”

~~~

All fourteen children were gathered on the circle carpet, confusion etched on their expressions as they looked around for their missing teacher. A few guardians were speaking with Gila just outside the classroom door.

“Where do you think Miss is?” Grogu asked Li. She shrugged.

“I don’t know. I hope she’s okay.”

“Me, too.”

Grogu looked down to his hands sitting in his lap. Uncle Boba had dropped him off again this morning with the claim that Papa had to go into work early again. He’d been saying that for a couple weeks at this point. And now Miss wasn’t here? He let out a little sigh. Something was off. He remembered Miss’s lesson about rainy and sunny days, but Grogu didn’t realize that a sunny day could become a sunny week, or even longer.

He wanted his normal back. He wanted his rain.

Gila walked inside and shut the door before making her way to the front of the room, facing the group of curious younglings.

“Hey kids, I bet you’re wondering where Miss is today.”

They nodded.

“She’s not feeling well right now, so we asked her to stay home and rest.”

A chorus of ‘aws’ and murmurs of what Miss might be sick with erupted in the tiny crowd. Grogu frowned.

“Now, now, everyone,” Gila held up her arms and tried to recapture the room’s attention. “I promise she’ll be okay. She’s just going to do what she needs to in order to feel better and she’ll be back here before you know it. I’ll be hanging out with you today and then you’ll have a substitute for the rest of the week. Let’s make sure we give them just as much respect as Miss, okay?”

“Yeah!” came the collective cry. Tara raised her hand, to which Gila pointed.

“Can we give Miss something? To help her feel better?”

“Ooh!” came Li’s voice, “we could make her something!”

“That’s a very sweet idea, kids — would the rest of you want to do that?”

Another big cheer.

“In that case, what if we all signed a card for her?” Gila suggested. The class agreed.

With a grin Gila rummaged around and found a large yellow poster paper. She folded it in half and set it up on the ground, letting the kids take turns signing and drawing on it throughout the day while engaging them in their regular activities. It wasn’t long before the paper was covered in words and drawings in all sorts of colors.

When it was his turn, after everyone else had already given Miss their well wishes, Grogu crouched down with his small packet of markers. He found a clear corner inside the card and got to work, placing a small drawing and a little message in there for his beloved teacher.

He glanced behind him once he was done — everyone else was still involved in their own activity. He grinned and turned the card over to add another message. He chose his favorite silver marker for this one, cupping his arm around just in case someone walked by.

When he was satisfied he capped his marker and examined the final product with a big smile.

“Perfect,” he whispered.

~~~

You had not left your couch all day. A random holofeed played on low volume in the background as you laid down, covers cocooning you in their fluffy warmth. The floor at your feet was littered with a tissue box, a med pack, a water bottle, and spare plastic bags. The air in your living room was stuffy — a discomforting, almost moist sensation that you had to force down your windpipe with each inhale. Ironically, it made your throat feel drier.

Your stomach churned; you’d hardly eaten all day. Whatever you tried to keep down just came back up. Evidence of that fact sat in a pile on the ground near the opposite end of the couch, and you had no ability to make yourself something that would stay down. Your face contorted as your arm wrapped around your middle. You focused on your breathing while the pain seared through your stomach as if you’d swallowed a blade; this will pass, you thought over and over in an attempt to soothe yourself. You let out a breath once it did and relaxed once more.

You winced when a knock erupted from your door. Who the hell could that be, you wondered. You slowly dismantled your nest and lowered your stiff legs onto the ground, making sure to secure them before attempting to stand. The room seemed longer as you did, the comfort of your blankets falling away and leaving you shivering in your pajamas. Multicolored dots flung themselves about your line of sight; you tried to blink them away as your cold, bare feet took one slow step after another towards the door.

You didn’t bother looking through the window first — if some rando was here to rob you, then you’d just have to be okay with that. They wouldn’t find very much monetary value in your things, anyway. Or if someone was trying to sell you something, your pale face, dead eyes, and disheveled appearance would scare them away with ease. You placed your trembling hand onto the knob, turning it and pulling the door open.

The fresh air was a welcomed change for your lungs, though it intensified your chills by hitting the already cold sweat on your face. You took in a breath and wrapped your free hand around yourself as you poked your head out.

The sight of your visitor made your blood turn to ice.

***

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