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Meet-Snark

In a Universe Far, Far Away - Part 2 | Part 1 |

Pairing: Din Djarin x Earthling fem!reader Warnings: Crack fic (that is now going to have some narrative and character driven meat lmao), 2000s/2010s fanfic tropes, some language, not canon compliant but that is the point, Please note: this is set right before the Finale Episode and contains general spoilers for Episode 7 Words: 1.3k Tags: Humor, chaos, uncanny valley, unexplained “magic”, reader is tired cranky and bratty

Well, things could be worse, you supposed.

Sure, you were still currently in your pajamas, but someone had found an extra pair of shoes that were close enough to your shoe size. You had no idea whose they might have been, but it was nice to not have freezing toes.

Even after deciding that you were probably not a spy or an assassin, you had been given a brisk pat-down and then handcuffed. Of course, there hadn’t been much of anything to find. You didn’t even have your damn cell phone on you. But what added insult to injury? Your cheese had been confiscated.

Thankfully, you had been able to convince them to not toss it out and instead put it in their fridge — or the conservator as they called it. It would’ve been sad to have just lost it after all.

That all had been some hours ago, everyone being mostly alright to ignore you so long as you didn’t make any sudden moves. They had bigger issues to deal with at the moment than try to figure you out.

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First Look - Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x Fem!Reader Summary: It’s your wedding day and there are a few surprises in store for your husband-to-be, Frankie. Word count: 3k Rating: T Warnings: Fluff fest. Language. Benny doing Benny things. You and Frankie have a preschool-aged daughter. DILF Frankie deserves its own warning. No use of y/n. I know very little Spanish. A/N: Valentine’s Day on Morales Monday?! This calls for Frankie fluff! This started as a quick thought and somehow exploded (as my thoughts always do, apparently), and I hope you enjoy it. Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope this warms your heart and soul and has you yearning for our dear Frankie ❤️

Frankie is a nervous wreck, his heart pounding in a way that makes him fear it’ll rip through his chest and destroy his rental tuxedo. A culmination of all things led him right here, to this very moment – when he finally could see his beautiful bride. It’s been a long journey to get here. Frankie can easily navigate a helicopter through damn near any condition, under any amount of pressure – but navigating a relationship? That’s been a damn near impossible feat - one he couldn’t have done without you.

A bead of sweat falls down his forehead, but he pays no notice to it. He fidgets with the finger where the physical representation of your love will soon be placed while his mind runs a million miles a minute, thinking about what he'll say when he sees you; how beautiful you are, how excited he is to finally make you his wife. He’s also reminding himself to hold it together and not find a way to fuck up this moment, this day, because today is all about you, and for that reason alone, he wants everything to be perfect.

He doesn't understand why he’s so nervous. The two of you are already married in every respect except by law: you share a home, you share expenses, and you even share a daughter together. Most importantly, you share a deep love for one another. Even with all the struggles through the years – yours, his, both – your love has never faltered. You were there for him through the cocaine addiction, through the rehab, through the weeks you were home alone with a newborn worrying he was dead in some jungle in Colombia while on that stupid mission with Pope, and through the PTSD he experienced after he returned home. Your constant unwavering support amazes him, along with how fully capable you are to give him a swift kick him in the ass when he needs it – especially when he doesn’t realize he needs one.

What did I do to deserve you?

Dozens of memories of your relationship flood Frankie’s mind as he stands in the clearing of the forest. This place is special to you both, one that he introduced to you and brought you to countless times afterward - and one you brought him to when you knew he needed a breath of fresh air to help clear his mind. Many nights were spent here stargazing in the bed of his truck, flirting, giggling, and talking about the future. Not to mention the unmentionable things you’ve done in the privacy of the forest. It’s where your relationship grew – and was sometimes tested, considering the number of arguments and deep conversations you’ve also had here. Getting married here just made sense.

Frankie senses a figure approaching from behind, drawing him from his thoughts. He quickly changes his posture, but struggles to decide what to do with his hands. He settles on standing with them in front of him, his right hand clasping his left wrist. The photographer snaps away with her camera before pausing to offer instruction, but the words are muffled in his ears. All he can hear is his heartbeat, the pulsing seeming to build in intensity as the seconds tick by.

Finally, he feels a hand tap his shoulder and verbal permission to turn around to see his bride. Taking a deep breath, he turns around, and immediately locks onto a pair of piercing blue eyes.

Wait…those aren’t your eyes.

For a moment, Frankie questions whether he has somehow lost his mind somewhere in the chaos of the day. Had the heat finally gotten to him? He’s looking at a bride, but it sure as hell isn’t his bride. It’s not you. It’s not the warm smile that he’s accustomed to. Instead, it’s Benny Miller smiling brightly at him, wearing an old wedding gown and veil he picked up at the Goodwill when this plan was first formulated. His muscular arms look absolutely ridiculous in the strapless dress, his tattoo on his right shoulder on full display. A hint of chest hair peeks out of the loosely fitted sweetheart neckline.

Realizing what’s going on, Frankie doubles over in laughter, his hands on his knees to keep him from falling to the ground. Benny immediately follows, roaring as he throws his head back. Somewhere in the background, hidden amongst the trees, Will and Santi are howling with laughter, having held it in for so long while watching it all play out. Tears fill Frankie’s eyes, and when he finally is upright again, he flicks them away, feeling the stress of the day fly away with them.

As the laughter begins to die down, Benny grabs Frankie’s hands. Looking deeply in his eyes, he says breathlessly, “I love you. I love you, Francisco. Can I…Can I please make a baby with you?”

Frankie laughs one more, then pulls Benny into a hug, the two men enthusiastically patting one another on their backs as they embrace.

“Congratulations, man,” Benny bids, breaking from his charade long enough to express her feelings to one of his best friends. “I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, hermano…,” Frankie begins in sincerity. He pushes back to take a look at the man, then adds, “For whatever the fuck this is.”

Benny grabs Frankie’s face with his big hands and turns it to the side, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek, eliciting another big laugh from Frankie.

“Fuck you, pendejo,” Frankie jokes, lightly pushing him away.

“Don’t you love me anymore, Frankie, baby?” Benny teases. He pushes up on the bustline of the dress, which is hanging loosely from his lack of cleavage. Frankie pulls on the neckline, playfully looking down, causing the two other Delta members to whoop and holler in the background.

“Like what you see?” the blond man questions.

“You’re beautiful, baby!” Santi teasingly yells from across the way.

The photographer finally interjects. “Can we do a prom pose with the lovely bride?”

The two men immediately get into position, Frankie standing closely behind Benny, his hands wrapped around the younger man’s waist. Another laugh escapes Frankie’s lips, then he plants a kiss on Benny’s cheek, causing the man to chuckle as well.

“I can’t,” Benny wheezes, breaking away from Frankie. “I can feel your cock on my ass.”

“You know you like it,” Frankie jokes, slapping him on the ass before he’s out of reach.

“Oh!” Benny exclaims dramatically. “You dirty boy!”

“Get your ugly ass out of here,” Frankie commands in a playful tone, shooing him away. “And tell the other two to stop drinking until after the damn ceremony.”

"You can't tell us what to do, Morales," Will shouts.

“Fine! I’ll find someone who loves me for the way I am,” Benny responds, dramatically flipping the veil out of his face and over his shoulder before walking away

Frankie shakes his head, feigning disapproval while trying to contain his laughter, though the stupid grin on his face gives it away.

The photographer instructs him to return to his original position so they can move forward with the first look. He nods, moving to stand with his back toward the way you’d be coming from. Though he’s still anxious, he’s far less stressed than he was before. Gratitude overflows in his heart as he thinks about his friends and their willingness to do whatever it takes to ease tension. He is sure he chose the right people to stand next to him at the altar.

After patiently waiting for a couple minutes, the photographer finally says, “Alright. Turn around and take a look.”

Frankie’s confused at first, wondering why you hadn’t tapped his shoulder, as Benny had. He doesn’t question it though. Instead, he eagerly turns around. Once again, he doesn’t see you. In fact, he doesn’t immediately see anyone at all.

Hearing a little giggle, he drops his gaze and is met with a carbon copy of your eyes, though they don’t belong to you. Instead, they belong to your daughter, dressed in a flower girl dress, a flower crown on her head, dark curls flowing freely. She looks up at her father with a crooked smile.

“Hi, Daddy!” she exclaims.

“Mija!” Frankie cries, instantly dropping to her level, his arms outstretched for her. She happily runs to him.

“Hi, baby girl,” he says, holding her in a tight, warm embrace. He is in shock not just at the sight of her, but how beautifully she’s dressed, like a little lady. “You’re not who I was expecting!”

“Were you waiting for Mommy?” she questions, pulling back and standing with one of his arms still wrapped around her back.

“I was,” he responds, fussing with her dress, trying to fix where it had wrinkled. Then he adjusts the crooked crown on her head. “But I’m just as happy to see you.”

“Mommy’s so pretty!”

Frankie glows. He didn’t need his daughter’s word to know that you’re beautiful. “She’s always pretty.”

“But extra pretty today,” she emphasizes.

“Okay, mija,” he concedes. “I believe you, but I can’t wait to see for myself.”

Her little hands reach out and touch his jacket, feeling the fabric. She fiddles with one of the buttons. “Am I pretty, Daddy?” she questions.

The smile on Frankie’s face widens, revealing his dimple, watching while she examines his black tuxedo. “Beautiful.”

She looks up at him, then touches his freshly-groomed face, giggling as she feels the stubble on his jaw, which relaxes beneath her touch. “You’re pretty too.”

“Thanks, baby.”

“Do you wanna see my shoes?” she questions, backing away and lifting up her dress before he can even answer, showing off her heeled dress shoes.

“Oh, wow!” Frankie theatrically gasps. “They’re so shiny.”

“They make me taller!” She raises her hands in the air and jumps for emphasis.

“They sure do, mija,” he responds. He gazes at her, his eyes shining with pride. How did he have a hand in creating something so wonderful? He credits you, mostly, but he knows if you were here, you’d assure him that he’s had just as much of a hand in forming her.

His pride quickly turns into sorrow as he realizes that one day she will grow up and no longer need him. His eyes swell with tears, listening as she rambles on about her shoes and dress. He quickly wipes away the tears before they can fall, but it didn’t prevent her from noticing.

“Daddy, are you crying?” she asks, looking concerned.

“I’m happy, mija. These are happy tears,” he assures her. “Promise me you won’t grow up too fast, okay? I'm afraid I'll blink and you’ll be a big girl. Then I’ll be walking you down the aisle.”

She gasps in shock. “I’ll get married too?”

“One day,” he says with a nod. “If you want to.”

“Who will I marry, Daddy?”

Frankie hates when he doesn’t have answers to her questions, but he knows that there are some things that just can’t be answered. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t know.”

“I wanna marry you!”

Frankie chuckles. “No, baby girl. I’m sorry…but I’m marrying Mama, and some day, when you’re big, you’ll fall in love with someone and marry them.”

The little girl crosses her arms across her chest and huffs, stamping a foot on the ground. “If I can’t marry you then I don’t wanna marry anybody.”

Frankie chuckles. “I won’t argue with that.” He reaches up and grabs her small, soft hands, caressing them with his large, calloused ones. “That doesn’t mean you won’t have my heart forever, mija. I promise you that no day will pass where you don't feel my love. Okay?”

She nods. “Okay, Daddy.”

He offers his daughter a comforting smile. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He pulls her to him and she wraps her arms around his neck. Holding her tightly, he closes his eyes, savoring the moment, wishing he could keep her there forever, to keep her little forever, and to protect her from all the things he’d endured in life.

“Mommy!”

The sudden shriek surprises Frankie, especially because she yelled right into his ear. He winces as he lets go, allowing her to run to what made her so happy: you.

“Hi sweetie,” you greet, bending at your knees to meet her.

“Mommy, you look like a princess!” she says, looking at you in awe.

“Thank you, baby,” you say. “You do too.”

“I know! Daddy said I’m beautiful.”

You giggle. “He did, did he?”

She nods.

“Well, he’s right. Hey…” You quickly change the subject, knowing it’s time for her to go elsewhere while you get some private time with your future husband before the guests start to arrive. “I heard Uncle Benny is trying to sneak a piece of cake. You should go find him before he does.”

The girl audibly gasps, then turns and, after picking up her dress, runs off toward the large tent in the distance. “UNCLE BENNY!” she shouts. “NOOO! No cake!”

At first, you’re proud, thinking you sent her to stop Benny, knowing the little girl always wants to play police and catch bad guys in action. However, when she adds, “Not without me!” you start to question your decision. Those two are trouble together.

Oops.

Standing straight, watching the little girl run as fast as her little legs and heeled shoes can take her, you cannot help but laugh. She is perfect to you in every way; the perfect combination of you and Frankie.

Frankie…

You turn, a smile plastered on your face as you catch sight of him. He is still, standing with his feet glued to the ground, as if the mere sight of you had turned him to stone. Your heart leaps for joy the moment your eyes meet. He’s so handsome, and looking at you as if he had just seen the face of God.

What did I do to deserve him?

Biting your lower lip, you pick up your dress and slowly walk to him. He shakes his head, as if in disbelief that he’s seeing you. The moment you stop in front of him, he lets out a sob, then turns away and covers his mouth with a fist, trying to collect himself.

“Frankie, baby…,” you coo, reaching out to put a hand on his shoulder.

He lets out a tearful laugh after hearing the pet name. “I wish I could say that’s the first time I’ve been called that today,” he snorts, putting his hands on his hips.

You chuckle, knowing what had transpired, having been in on the planning and watching it safely from afar. “Benny?”

“Benny,” he repeats, shaking his head once more. He inhales deeply and releases it, then finally turns to you. He looks at you with a warm glow in his eyes, tenderness radiating all over him. His eyes are dark and wet, but also warm and calming, like the cups of hot chocolate you've shared here so many times in the past.

“Dios mío…,” he mutters under his breath. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

You giggle nervously. “Not the first time you've said that.”

“You look…” He swallows and furrows his brow, trying to find the right word, but none of them seem good enough. “Incredible,” he finally gets out.

“Really?” you question, never able to easily accept the compliments he so often showers you with.

“Really. Let me look at you.” He extends his hand, which you accept, then he raises your arm and you give him a twirl, allowing him to see you from every angle. After your spin, he pulls you close to him. You let go of him and place both of your hands on his chest while his own fall to your hips.

“Preciosa,” he softly murmurs. Gorgeous.

You look up at him through your eyelashes. “Aren’t you going to kiss me?”

“Can I?” he questions.

You giggle once more, thinking he’s asking permission like some awkward teenage boy at a middle school dance. “It’s not against the rules to kiss me before the wedding. I mean, we’ve done far worse things here.”

The heat instantly rises in his cheeks. A chuckle escapes his lips as he looks down for a moment, before looking at you once more. “I just mean…I don’t want to ruin your makeup.”

“When has that ever been a problem?” you ask.

“You’re not a bride every day,” he insists.

“Frankie…,” you sigh, dramatically rolling your eyes. “Shut up and kiss me.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he responds.

He immediately acquiesces, and as soon as your lips meet, everyone and everything melts away; it’s just the two of you. All you know is the kiss; all you feel is his lips pressing into yours.

You’re unsure how long your lips stay locked, but when you break, he lays his forehead against yours. The two of you stand there with your eyes closed, enjoying the presence of one another.

“It’s not too late if you want to back out,” Frankie jests, causing you to chuckle.

You open your eyes, looking up at him with all the love and adoration you can offer. “Sorry, Morales, but you’re stuck with me.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. Want me to prove it?” you question.

His cocked eyebrow implies he is internally wondering what you are up to. He smiles coyly, then says, “Alright. Prove it.”

The lips of your mouth curl into a sly smile as you gently push yourself off him. He puts his hands on his hips as he watches you back a couple steps away from him. You then extend your hand to him and say, “I’ll marry you. Right now.”

He looks from your hand to the ground, a chuckle escaping his lips. After a moment, he looks up at you, a bright smile on his face, one that reaches all the way to his eyes, causing the skin around them to crinkle. It’s one you’ve seen several times before: when you first agreed to go on a date with him, when you accepted his proposal, when you told him he was going to be a father, and when your daughter entered the world months later. It was filled with love, radiating happiness from deep in his heart’s core, the glow of it warming your own body and soul.

Without hesitation, he reaches out and grabs your hand. “Alright. Let’s go get married.”

☆ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs. it’s time to spread positivity! ☆ 😘

*unintelligible noises* I love you sm!!!!

If you're still doing marcus requests... do you think you could write something where he just broke up with Teresa and is preparing to go to DC, and the reader is his best friend, but she tries to muster up the courage to confess that she loves him before he goes? Thank you 💕

AHhh this is so cute! Thanks for requesting this! <3

Stay

Marcus Pike x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: tiny bit of angst followed by fluff!

Love is a funny thing. 

It’s a funny thing simply because it can be so many things at once. It can be a warm slow growing feeling that begins as butterflies in your tummy before eventually moving it’s way into your heart. It can be an all at once feeling that seems to blow you off your feet. It can be a comforting feeling that reminds you of home and all the wonderful things that come with it. But it can also be sad. It can make your heart ache and your fingertips tingle. It can make your stomach roll in anxiousness, and make your mind run wild with all the different outcomes. But most of all, love is a powerful thing, able to make even the strongest man crumble beneath the weight of it all. 

Which is what happened to your best friend. 

You watched as Marcus experienced everything that love is, before the woman of his affections snatched it away when she realized her true feelings lied in another. While you were there as he cried on your shoulder and held you tightly in his arms as his grief ran out of him like a river, you couldn’t help the small sense of relief that washed over you. You too have experienced what Love is, except it was for the man who had cried in your arms, for the man you knew you could never have because he only saw you as his friend. 

You too knew that Love can be sad. 

You witnessed the awful ache that spread it;s tendrils through your chest when he told you he was leaving. You felt the way your stomach seemed to turn in on itself as you stood outside his door, ready to lay everything before him, no matter the outcome. Because you also knew all the good that Love can be, and that outweighed the bad, tenfold. And if there was even the slightest chance that Marcus could return the love you held for him, then you had to take that leap of faith.

You stood outside of Marcus’s apartment, wringing your hands together nervously as you built up the courage to knock on his door. It had been several weeks since Teresa had broken things off with Marcus, broken his heart. And now, he is leaving for DC, having told you the news over one of your weekly movie nights with empty Chinese takeout containers lying on the coffee table. You had held back your tears, shielded your crumbling heart as you hugged him and wished him the best. Because that;s what friends are supposed to do right? Encourage each other to pursue what’s best for them and what they want to do. Yet, as you hugged him and he hugged you back, you were unaware of the other heart breaking right across from yours. 

Marcus didn’t want to leave you. In fact he had hoped you would reduce his plan, ask him to stay so he had a reason too. Because, unbeknownst to you, Marcus had only pursued Theresa because he never thought he could have you. He hadn’t realized this until later, after he had been talking to you one night after the break up. But it seems even you didn’t want him around enough to ask him to stay. So he made the arrangements to go to DC, hoping time away from everything would help him forget. 

Marcus was actually packing the last of his bags when you took a deep breath and knocked firmly on his door. You shifted from one foot to the other anxiously as you waited for him to answer, and you felt your heart rate speed up as you heard his footsteps nearing the door. When the lock clicked and the door was pulled open to reveal the face of the man you loved, you felt a small if somewhat nervous smile come to your face. 

“Hey Marcus,” you greet quietly.

He beams at you, holding the door open wider to guide you into the apartment, “Hey, I didn’t expect you to come by,” he says, closing the door behind you and shoving his hands into his pockets as he looks around the mostly empty apartment, “I’m not really in the best spot to entertain right now,” he jokes.

You shake your head and send him a small smile, “You know I don’t care Marcus,” you say, “I just came by too…” you trail off, unsure of how to segway into what you want to tell him, “I wanted to see you again before you left,” you say finally, eyes falling to the floor. 

His eyes soften at your words, as if he himself had forgotten that he's moving across the country. He shifts on his feet for a moment before finally speaking again, “Why do I feel like that’s not the only reason you came all the way across town?”

You feel tears well up in your eyes at his words. Ever the FBI agent, trained to notice all the little things. Before you can stop yourself you launch yourself into Marcus, wrapping your arms around his middle and burrowing your face in his chest. Your tears soaking through the white t-shirt he’s wearing.

“Please don’t go, Marcus,” you beg quietly, voice wet with tears, “I don’t know what I’m going to do if you go.”

 After his momentary shock at your sudden actions, Marcus wraps his arms around you tightly, resting his head atop your own, your name falling from his lip, “I’ve already made the transfer...and all of my things have been moved down there. I can’t just-”

“I love you.”

Your voice is barely a whisper as the words slip past your lips, but Marcus hears them, and you feel his entire body tense, but you don’t move from your position in his arms. Instead you pull him tighter to you, afraid if you let go he’ll run away.

“That’s what I came here to tell you,” you admit, “I’ve felt like this for a while now but never said anything because I didn’t want to ruin what we had, and then you and Theresa -”

You hadn’t even been able to finish your sentence before Marcus was pulling you away from him, cradling your face in his hands and crashing his lips to yours. It didn’t take you long to respond, your body melting into his, as your hands rested on his wrists. Your tears seem to flow harder now, mixing together where your lips meet as you are bombarded with an onslaught of mixed emotions. Your lips move against his naturally, as if you both had done this a million times despite this being your first kiss. Marcus pulls away slowly after a few moments, both of you desperate for air. His hands stay where they are, his thumbs wiping at the tears on your cheeks, as your own hands fall to his chest. 

“Marcus? W-what, why did you-”

“I love you too,” he rasps, resting his forehead against your own, “I didn’t realize it then, but I love you so much, and I only used my relationship with Theresa as a way to try and smother my feelings for you.”

You pull back from him slightly, his hands falling from your face to rest on your hips instead, “Why didn’t you say anything?” you whisper, confusion tugging at your brows. 

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Same reason you didn’t,” he says, “Because I’d rather have you as a best friend than not have you at all.”

You smile at his words, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment before looking up at him, “Well I hope after that kiss we can be more than best friends now.”

Marcus lets out a laugh and nods, “I think I can agree to that,” he says quietly, his demeanor turning sheepish before he speaks again.

“Stay the night?” he asks, pressing a short kiss to your lips, “Please?”

You smile and return the kiss quickly before nuzzling your head into his chest again, “Of course, Marcus. And I hope you’ll call and cancel that transfer tomorrow.”

Marcus smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his cheek against it once again, content to finally be holding you in his arms. 

 “Anything for you, sweetheart.”

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Marcus Pike Tag: @stanfordscrush

@ porn blogs who keep following me

So that white woman who was harassing that black lady in that mall really told the black lady not to record her mental break down? Weaponizing white tears and mental illness. Like let's talk about how white people do use their mental health and gender in order to get out of situations.

The worst part about this is that the black woman who filmed this all got her TikTok account suspended and is in need of a lawyer.

Here's the link to her GoFundMe!

Here's the first video of the attack. You can find the rest on her account.

Her Twitter also explains some details.

Her name is MAMAAFRICA275. That's her Twitter name, and I can't find her actual name anywhere so I'm using this. Please help and support.

PLEASE, REBLOG . DON'T LIKE

It’ll Be Alright

Summary: Din sees the person he’s been longing for...

Song inspired: Sign of the Times by Harry Styles, I highly recommend listening to it while you read!

Pairing: Din Djarin x GNReader

WC: 1.2k

Warnings: Death. Angst✨

Masterlist

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Din didn’t know where he was.

The cold cabin felt familiar, yet unknown at the same time. The place lingered with a chill that slipped up his spine, making the hairs on his neck stand. The wooden log walls that looked crafted from hand stood tall. Upon them lingered pictures that seemed so familiar, but he couldn't quite make out the faces of them. An old red couch, worn out from the loving use of it stood in the center, placed upon a detailed carpet. Children's toys scared the floor in front of it, one’s he’s seen before yet can’t quite remember where.

He knew this place.

“Well, look who's home” his eyes pulled from the view up to the most beautiful one.

In the arch of the doorway stood the most beloved thing that ever walked into his life. You looked as lively as ever, the same smile that brought him to his knees. Maker, weren’t you a gift to this universe. One he doesn’t understand how he’s had the ultimate pleasure of sharing the same space as someone so delicate and kind; you were truly ethereal. You are everything to him. The stars shined brighter with you around, the sun felt warmer with you at his side.

But...everything felt so cold now.

The corner of his mouth twitched, your smile contagious as always he couldn’t help but match it.

He hung his head, feeling all but worthy to be around you. “Mesh’la” he hushes out as quietly as ever, the words shy. His eyes flicker up, hearing you approach him. Even through the darkness of the visor, he saw everything so brightly. The world was nothing but bright because of you.

Stopping just before him, you gave him a knowing look. Eyes twinkling at the sight of the man that was the reason the world turned for you.

“Riduur…” your words are as soft as the heart that beats for you. “May I?” the question makes him let out a relieved sigh.

“Please” he pleaded, leaning into you.

Reaching up, laying the palm of your hands gently on the cheeks of the helmet you raise it. Your husband's face slowly comes into view, the man you’ve loved bare out in front of you. His brows furrowed, the pinch of his forehead making him look as handsome as ever. His eyes bounced around your face, struggling to comprehend how you’re standing in front of him

Placing a hand on the roughly creased cheek of the man before your, grounding him to the planet you're on now. He squeezes his eyes shut, savoring the touch of his spouse that he’s longed for so long. It's been long. Far too long.

A tear escaped his eye, the only way he could fully voice his emotions to you right now. Breathing out his fears and unanswered questions, “My Riduur, I-I don’t-” you shushed him gently, the tip of your thumb tracing the creases on his cheek.

“Don’t cry for me, my love. Everything is alright.” your voice wavers, yet the soft smile graces your lips.

He shakes his head almost painfully, “It’s not-” “It will be. Maybe not today, but one day.” you assure. He lets out the smallest of sobs, his chest shaking in despair

“Please come home. Come home with me. Come home to our son.” he begs, words pleading for you to take his hand and go back with him. He’s pleading the universe, the maker, whoever would listen to his dire words to let you come home.

“Din...I am home” you motion to the cabin. He shakes his head in confusion, “W-What?”

“This is my home. It’s our home, the home you built for us. But...for only when your time comes” you assure as gently as possible.

Din's eyes widen at your words when everything suddenly clicks for him. This was his home. The home he imagined and spoke of for so long, the one he promised. The home he always wanted to have with you. Yet never did.

He takes a step closer to you, going up to grasp your wrists “I want to be here with you-I want to stay, please let me stay Riduur” you couldn’t help the tears that crept up behind your eyes at the sound of your husband's sobbing pleas.

You shake your head, biting your lip in an attempt to muffling your own sobs. “...It’s not time for us yet. You have such a life ahead of you. A life so beautiful, that I can’t wait for you to have. Even if I’m not there at your side, I always am. I’m with you till the end and after.” Your words assuring and laced with the same amount of love you always had for him.

Din squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to stop the array of tears that lost the war, he didn’t know what else to do. He can’t bring you home. He can’t bring you back. All he can do is worship and savor the time he has in the golden moment.

“C-Can I just hold you Riduur. One last time? Please?” he pleads, his brown eyes begging for you to be in his arms.

“It won’t be our last, Din” He pulls you into his chest, the sudden loss of armor allowing you to feel your skin against his.

His hand pulls your head into his chest, grasping the back of your head gently. He breathes you in, relishing the moment he wished he could have had so long ago. The cabin stood in silence, soft sobs from the mourning couple flowing through it.

Din didn’t feel cold anymore, he feels the warmth he hasn’t felt in a long time. He pulls away briefly only to pull you back in but this time to place his lips on yours. It was simply breathtaking, he was in the air. Floating in the love that has always made him feel like he was soaring in the clouds. The lips that drank him in since day one were as soft as he remembered. Even with the tears that mixed in, it was just as tender. His hands gripping your back, attempting to memorize your touch till the day he does see you again. You pull away gently, letting your lips hover over his, his eyes still squeezed shut at the feeling he hasn’t felt since you left.

“We’ll meet again, Riduur” you breathe out.

Opening his eyes, the sight in front of him was no longer the one he longed for. He moves around in the stiff seat of the pilot's chair, before stilling. He lets out a groan, that slowly turns to a dried sob his chest empty of any sparing of emotions. The green child that’s settled on his chest cooed, looking upon his father with glossy eyes. He was crying too. His tiny green hand was placed on his face, attempting to give him the comfort that he needs. Yet, Din knows nothing will ever provide him comfort. Not when he knows your ghost lingers the walls of the crest.

He gives the child a tight smile.

“I miss them too, kid”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~❀~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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