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high-functioning-lokipath · 3 years

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All About Eavesdropping - Loki x Reader - Words: 1,835

“You want us to what?” You yelled.

“I need you and Elsa here to go to Greenland for about a month,” Tony said. You stared at him from across his worktable in his lab.

“Why in Valhalla would we need to do that, Stark?” Loki retorted. “And don’t call me Elsa.” Tony had called the two of you in there right after breakfast saying that he had a very important job for you. This, however, did not seem to be all that special.

“For purely scientific purposes, of course,” He replied, mouthful of blueberries.

“And those would be?” You sighed, facedesking.

“The new winter stealth suits I designed. I need them tested in the field. I’ve run as many lab tests as possible but,” Tony shrugged. “Field tests are absolutely necessary. Everything you’ll need is either in these boxes or in the house in Greenland. If you want to take any other personal stuff you’ll want to grab it before you leave.”

“And you think we’re the best for the job?” You asked.

“He’s already a popsicle so if it gets too cold he can deal with it and you can heal yourself or him anyway,” Tony said like it was the most logical thing in the world. Loki tensed at his words but didn’t say anything about it.

“Fine,” Loki grunted. He grabbed the box Tony had marked for him and headed for the doors.

“You leave at 6! Don’t be late!”

“I wouldn’t dare disappoint you, Stark,” Loki sassed before finally stalking out.

“Have fun!” Tony grinned at you, wiggling his eyebrows.

“First of all, perv. Second of all, ain’t gonna happen!” You replied. “Why are you doing this? This whole thing is a direct attack on a part of him he doesn’t like to address!”

“Well I figured he has to grow up one day and deal with it. We all have inner demons to fight. I figured I’d help him.”

“A bit not good there, Sherlock.” Tony snorted in laughter and shook his head.

“Would you rather I send him with Steve?” Your eyes widened comically.

“Nope!” You exclaimed, popping the p. “I think we’ll do just fine.” You grabbed your box and headed out as well.

By 6 o'clock, the two of you were flying out on one of Tony's jets. "So, what do you think of the new suits?" You asked Loki, trying to make some conversation.

"They are no match for true Asgardian leather and would be greatly improved by at least a cape," He replied sounding rather bored.

"Oh," You said. "How exactly are we to be testing the suits again? I forget what Tony said."

"He said nothing, darling. It was all in his infernal little packet." You blushed lightly at the pet name and nodded.

"Alright, well, I guess I'm just going to," You paused, unsure of what to do. It was obvious Loki was not interested in conversation but there wasn't much to do on the jet. "I'm just going to sit over there," You said, getting up quickly and moving to the other side of the jet. The rest of the flight was quiet, Loki only speaking up to alert you that you were about to land.

"Surely the man of iron could not possibly want us to stay here," Loki said, getting out and seeing the small house.

"Maybe it's bigger on the inside," You said hopefully. Gathering your few things, you both headed in. "Oh this is so much worse," You groaned. The large main room consisted of the dining and living rooms and the kitchen. However, it was very sparsely decorated. You could see a stack of groceries in the kitchen along with a note. Loki wandered off to explore the bathroom and bedrooms, you assumed, while you read the note.

"Find anything of interest?" Loki called out, surprising you.

"Just that Tony said if we didn't like the food or somehow ran out there's a grocery store about 10 miles away."

"And just how does he expect us to go there?" Loki yelled, getting increasingly frustrated.

"The note says our transportation is out back." You walked down the small hallway to the back door and looked outside. Stifling a laugh you called out, "Hey, Loki! I think your ex is here!"

"My who?" Loki replied, very confused. "I have no 'exes', as you call them, on Midgard." You smirked and moved aside so Loki could look. When he saw what was in the backyard, a strange look crossed over his face. "Run," He said in a dangerously calm voice.

"I beg your pardon?" You replied.

"Run if you don't want to lose your phone," He smirked back. You laughed but you did take off running. He chased you back out to the main room but you ran out the front door. "Don't think you can escape me!" He called out.

"Wanna bet?" You called back, running to the backyard. You quickly jumped on one of the two horses you had seen and took off.

"Oh, you'll regret saying that, my dear," Loki grinned, getting on the other horse and taking off after you.

The next few days continued in a similar pattern. There wasn't much to do so you and Loki would often spend your time exploring the woods behind the house or riding the horses or just talking. Loki had warmed up to you quite a bit, pun intended, and you were quite happy. Of course, you recorded the events of each day in your diary. Well, it was less of a diary and more of a collection of special moments you wanted to remember and sketches you'd made. You had just finished writing today's events when you heard a loud clatter and Loki call you from the kitchen.

"Y/N!" He said. "Can you come here please?" You quickly put your notebook in the nightstand drawer and hurried out to the kitchen.

"What in the world happened, Loki?" You exclaimed, holding back a laugh. Loki was laying on the floor, covered in a mixture of flour and eggs it seemed, with various cups and bowls around him.

"I was attempting to reach a mixing bowl on the top shelf when I slipped on an egg and pulled the shelf down," He admitted.

"You're telling the truth!" You gasped, openly chuckling at the situation now.

"Of course, love! I couldn't lie to you." You blushed brightly, as he often made you do with those pet names.

"Uh, well," You stuttered. "Why don't you go wash up and I'll finish," You paused, glancing around. "Whatever you were making."

"I was attempting to make breakfast," He grinned. "But I think I should make myself clean instead, hm?"

"Yes, you should," You smirked. "Wouldn't want anyone thinking you were greying early."

"You-" He exclaimed, standing quickly. For a moment you thought he was truly angry, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. He reached onto the counter and threw a handful of flour at you before running off to the bathroom. You laughed, dusted yourself off, and got to work on breakfast.

About an hour later, he came back out and sat across you at the counter. "Your breakfast, my prince," You smiled, presenting him his plate. He smiled and you ate in silence for a time.

"I've been reading a lot lately," He commented.

"Mhm," You replied, mouthful of syrupy pancakes.

"The last book I read had some rather interesting sketches in it too."

"Really?" You asked, truly interested. "I love art. Can you show it to me?" You took a large gulp of milk as he replied.

"My dear," He said, setting down his fork. "I read your diary." You coughed, almost choking on your ill-timed drink.

"You what?" You screeched. "How dare you invade my privacy like that and-"

"Don't you care to know what I thought?" He interrupted.

"Why? So you can laugh at me, oh Mr. High-and-" He cut you off by leaning over the counter and kissing you earnestly. "Oh, that's nice," You said once you pulled away.

"Just nice?" He smirked. "I guess I'll have to work on that." He kissed you once more before you pulled away, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

"I just remembered something!" You gasped.

"What's wrong?" You quickly pulled out the pamphlet Tony had made you about the suit testing. You then gestured to a paragraph under a subheading of RECORDING ANY AND ALL TEST RESULTS

ALL TEST RESULTS MUST BE RECORDED BY THE TESTERS USING THE STEPS LISTED. TO ENSURE NOTHING IS MISSED, HOWEVER, THE HOUSE WILL ALSO BE UNDER 24/7 SURVEILLANCE TO TRACK ANY UNRECORDED RESULTS.

OUTSIDE - AUDIO/VIDEO

INSIDE - AUDIO ONLY

Loki grinned and leaned into you, lips brushing against your ear. He whispered something and you giggled. "Loki!" You gasped. "We can’t do that here!"

"Oh, yes," He purred. "We can do it anywhere we want if we're creative enough."

"But outside is so much more exciting," You grinned. "So," you paused, struggling to find the right word. "Freeing!"

"Please do not do anything outdoors where I can see!" You heard a loud voice yell. You both quickly realized it was coming from the monitoring system.

"Steve? Is that you?" You called back with a chuckle.

"Yeah, Tony insisted I take a turn on guard duty," He grumbled. "Look, I'm sorry I interrupted," He paused awkwardly. "Whatever you were doing but could you please not do it outside? Outside has cameras." Loki laughed loudly and you did too.

"We really didn't mean to prank you, Cap. I thought Tony was on the other end of that mic."

"I however have no objections to how this turned out," Loki added. You whacked him arm lightly and shook your head. "Truthfully, though, we were only speaking of testing another aspect of the suit. I whispered to Y/N my idea and-"

"I get it," Cap replied quickly. You couldn't see him but you could tell he was embarrassed. "I'll make you two a deal. Behave yourselves, finish the tests, and get home early and I'll help you prank Tony here in the tower. Ok?"

"You have yourself a deal, Captain," Loki grinned.

"Alright. I'm going to take a nap now. Don't do anything stupid."

"Oh we won't," Loki smirked, wrapping his arms around you and planting light kisses on your neck.

"Loki!" You squealed.

"Do you want to prank Tony or not?" Steve yelled. "I can't see you but I can hear you! And that didn't sound like suit testing. Get to work! If you do as you're supposed to, you'll be done in a week."

"Yes, sir," You both grumbled. Loki, ever the mischief maker, wasn't about to let up. He grabbed a towel and twirled it, smacking your backside with it as you walked away.

"What was that for?" You asked.

"Loki, did you just-"

"For purely scientific purposes, I assure you," He replied. Steve groaned in frustration.

"This is gonna be a long week."

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procrastinatingnerd · 3 years

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Hi everyone! So this was my first time taking part in the @osemanversebigbang but I had so much fun!! I can't wait to read everyone's entries! 💜

Title: Angel Rahimi And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Lunch Break

Characters: Angel, Juliet, Rowan, Jimmy, Lister, Bliss, two of Angel’s future uni friends (OCs).

Spoilers? Minor spoilers of important events in “I Was Born For This”.

Word Count: 3.6k

Ships: Bicci, one joke about Juliet/Rowan.

~Joan of Arc (Probably)

“I am so fucking tired”

“Right, time’s up, put your pens down.” The exam officer says from the front of the room. I scribble one last sentence before my hand gives out, and I all but throw my pen onto the desk, sighing as dramatically as I can. This week is a fucking nightmare. Exams and assignments are the piss. Fuck uni, I’m ready to drop out. Or drop dead. Either works, honestly.

As I leave the exam hall, I walk past some people from the students’ union. They’re handing out flyers for the Christmas ball next week. My housemates are all planning on going, but my friends and I planned our present swap for that night, so we’re going to spend it eating a fuck ton of snacks and watching the cheesiest Christmas films we can find. I can’t wait, I bought them each a bag of their favourite sweets from the American candy shop, it's going to be so much fun!

But that’s next week. Right now, all I want is to sit at a table that doesn’t have an exam paper on it, and eat something very greasy and very unhealthy. There’s a pizza place just on the edge of campus, run by some of the culinary arts students, and they make the best sauce ever. It’s pretty cheap too, which makes it a favourite for most people, especially at the end of a semester, when everyone’s bank accounts are running low.

I have about an hour until I need to be back in the exam hall, so I take full advantage of the outdoor seating and collapse into a chair after ordering. My pizza is brought out to me not long after, and I breathe in the smell. Nothing has smelt more gorgeous than the slices sitting in front of me. It’s a surprisingly warm day, for December at least, and for a moment, everything feels calm. I can hear a bird singing in a tree somewhere, other students are hanging around campus, most with their noses in their phones or in textbooks, and I actually let myself relax for a bit. I’ve done all the revision I can for this next exam, and I’m in desperate need of a break. I deserve this.

I pick up my first slice of pizza, and bring it up to my mouth. As I’m about to take a bite, however, my phone rings. I put the pizza down with a sigh and answer the phone without looking at who’s calling. Mum probably sensed I wasn’t doing any work, and is calling to check up on me.

“Hello?” I say tiredly.

“Angel, hi! Is this a good time??” I grin at the sound of Juliet’s voice.

“Hell yeah, it’s a perfect time! What’s up?”

“Wait, you don’t know why I’m calling?” Juliet says hesitantly. Shit. What have I forgotten now? I know it’s not her birthday. Wait, is it mine?? I swear exams rot your brain, have I actually forgotten my own birthday?

“No…?” I ask after internally monologuing for way too long.

“Oh my god, you don’t know??” Juliet screeches in my ear, “Angel go look at your phone, it’s urgent!”

Now very concerned, I put Juliet on speaker and, for the first time all morning, actually read the notifications filling my lock screen. I open the Twitter news one, and my mouth drops open in shock.

“Holy shit.”

On my screen is a news article with a headline that reads, “THE ARK’S JIMMY KAGA-RICCI AND LISTER BIRD’S SECRET RELATIONSHIP EXPOSED”, and just below it sits a large photo of Jimmy and Lister, standing outside a pub, kissing. I don’t believe it.

“Holy fu- Hold on a second. Mate, isn’t that the pub by Piero’s house?!” I say, bringing my phone as close to my face as I can, as if that’ll help me see better. There’s a loud shuffling noise on the other end of the line, and then I hear a gasp.

“Oh my god, you’re right!” Juliet says. “Rowan said they were going on holiday, but I thought he meant abroad or something.” I smile at that. Ever since our little jaunt to Kent last summer, Juliet and I have kept in touch with the boys. We even have a group chat now; us and them and even Bliss is in it. I’m so glad we stayed friends.

At first, Rowan was really quiet, and if he did speak he and Juliet would almost always end up arguing, but they’ve been getting along quite well lately. I’m not saying I ship it or anything, I’ve learnt my lesson there, but I have to say, fangirl-to enemies-to lovers would make a wicked fanfiction trope.

“Did you see any of this coming?” Juliet continues. “Surely Jimmy would have said something to you?”

“He said he was dating someone, but didn’t want to give details because they were taking things slow. Well, that and that celebrity phone hacking scandal freaked him right the fuck out, remember?” I say.

"That's

right, he stopped talking on the group chat for like two weeks, didn’t he?” Juliet giggles back. “Well, nevertheless, I’m happy for them. They’re cute together.”

“Yeah, they are.” I grin again. “Oh my god, poor Rowan though! I’d hate to live with a couple, especially a new one! It’d be nauseating.”

“Oh I know, right? And imagine what’ll happen when they have their first fight!” Juliet gasps again. I shudder at the thought.

“I’m muting the group chat when that happens.” I joke.

“Not a bad idea.” Juliet laughs back, then pauses. “Oh, Angel, I’m sorry I’ve got the get going, but do you want to skype later?”

“Yeah, no problem! I’ve got a revision session at 6, but I should be free by 9ish?”

“Sounds perfect! See you then!” Juliet says, and with that, she’s gone, and I’m back to sitting alone with my pizza.

Jimmy and Lister. Holy shit. I don’t think anyone in the fandom saw this coming. Everything has been about Jowan, since the fandom started growing it’s the only ship that ever existed. No one bothered writing fics about any other pairings. The only Jimmy/Lister fics I ever came across were platonic ones, and even they made sure to mention Jimmy’s boyfriend Rowan.

Oh god, I hope they’re okay. The fans got so crazy when Bliss and Rowan’s relationship was exposed. Jimmy/Lister is the final nail in the Jowan coffin. Jimmy must be having the panic attack of his life! I’ve got to-

My phone rings again.

I look down at the screen, and see Jimmy’s name. I take a deep breath, and answer.

“Jimmy, hi! How are-”

“Have you seen it??”

“Yes.”

“Oh god. This isn’t how we wanted to tell you guys.”

“You sure? Because getting caught by the national press worked so well for you last time.” I tease. Silence. Oops, probably not the best thing to remind him of right now.

“Jimmy, you still there?” I say carefully. There’s a slight rustle on his end, which means he probably just nodded. “Everything is going to be fine, I promise. The fans will move on. They already did with Jowan, right?”

“But what if something happens again? Something like-”

“It won’t. You guys have better security now, and you’re doing less public events. You’re going to be fine.” I hope and pray that I’m saying the right things. Jimmy and I have gotten close lately, but I’m nowhere near as good at helping him deal with his anxiety as Rowan and Lister are. There’s more silence, until finally, Jimmy speaks again.

“Okay. Yeah. Yeah I think you’re right. Thanks, Angel.”

“Course I’m right! If there’s one thing I know, it’s fandom drama.” Jimmy laughs, and I grin back. “And don’t forget, you’re not alone in this. This is happening to Lister too, and no doubt Rowan and Bliss will be there to help you. Just talk to them.”

“Thank you Angel, I’ll go do that now.”

“Perfect! Love you Jim, I’ll text you later.” I say, and the call ends.

He’ll be okay. He’s got too many people who love him not to be. I take another breath and put my phone down on the table. As soon as I do, however, it buzzes again, and I see Jimmy is trying to facetime me. Now very concerned, I answer it and hold the phone up so he can see my face properly.

“Jimmy, are you okay, what’s happened??” I ask anxiously, but he looks fine. He looks at me with a confused expression.

“Nothing, I’m just talking to the others, like you said.” He says. It’s only me and him on the call. I stare at him in silence for a moment.

“Jimmy, mate… I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not any of them” I say slowly, and to my surprise, Jimmy laughs.

“Yeah I know, but I was kind of hoping to have you here, too, if that’s okay?” He says sheepishly. “It’s okay if you’re busy, it’s just that… I don’t know, you’re good with this stuff and you make me feel calm? Sorry, I know that’s a lot to just dump on you.” Jimmy doesn’t look at me directly, and I start to feel tears in my eyes.

“Well damn, Jim, I guess if you truly love me that much, I can stick around for a bit.” I laugh, and quickly glance at the time. “My lunch break is only halfway over, anyway, so I have plenty of time to hang out while you talk to the others.”

Jimmy seems to let out a breath, like he’d been holding it, and grins.

Just as I’m about to start talking again, I hear a ping, and Lister’s face appears on screen, followed by Rowan and Bliss.

“Hey Jimjam, you okay?” Rowan asks, looking as calm as ever. “Oh hey Angel.” He adds. I give him an awkward smile.

“Wait, Angel's here?” Bliss interrupts before Jimmy can answer. “Nice, how’s the week from hell going? Didn’t think we’d hear from you until you’d made it through.”

“Yeah it’s rough, but I’m getting there. This is a welcome distraction though.” I grin at her.

“So you’ve seen the pictures then. They look good, right?” Lister chimes in, before correcting himself. “I mean, it’s horrible they found us, fucking pricks, but you’ve got to admit we look good.”

“You can be so self-centred sometimes.” Bliss laughs.

“Come on Lister, this isn’t a joke.” Rowan chides him.

“Well, I guess he isn’t wrong..” Jimmy mumbles nervously and I see him smile a bit.

“See, Jimmy agrees with me!” Lister argues back at Rowan, who rolls his eyes.

“It’s still not something to laugh about.” Rowan says firmly. “Cecily’s already on damage control, cancelling some events, beefing up the security at others, and giving the tabloids hell. She’s also let your grandad know, Jimmy.”

“Wait, aren’t you guys all down there already?” I ask, confused.

“Nah we got back last night. That picture was taken when we went out for lunch the other day. Took their time printing it.” Lister says.

“Probably needed time to pad out their articles. Seriously, how can they write so many pages about two people dating?” Bliss adds.

“Probably whining about how Jowan is now well and truly dead.” Rowan rolls his eyes again. “Although I have to say, I’m pretty happy about that part.” I cringe slightly as he says that. I will never not regret being one of the Jowan fangirls.

“So Cecily’s already got a plan? That’s good, that’s a bit of a relief.” Jimmy speaks up, looking visibly more relaxed than he had sounded over the phone earlier.

“Yeah she’s got it sorted, so we can start planning our Christmas party!” Lister says, making the others groan.

“Lister what the hell makes you think we should be throwing a massive fucking party right now?!” Rowan says, his voice growing louder. Lister goes quiet, looking like he wants to shrink into his seat, before eventually speaking up again.

“Look, it doesn’t have to be anything big, I just mean… Angel, you’re gonna be in London with Juliet, right? Come over, drag Bliss with you, Jimmy can invite his grandad, Rowan you can bring Jade, and there you go, that’s our party!”

“That’s...actually a good idea.” Rowan says, surprised.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun!” Jimmy adds.

“I’m up for it, Angel, do you think Juliet will wanna come?” Bliss says.

“Hell yeah she would, let’s do it!” I reply with a massive smile on my face. Partying with Bliss and the boys sounds like the best way to spend my Christmas London trip. I’ll make sure to tell Juliet about it when I talk to her later. As I start planning all the food I’m going to bring over, and wondering what the boys’ flat will look like at Christmas, the conversation starts up again.

“You sure you’re doing alright, Jimmy? I can come back home if you need me to.” Rowan says, focusing things on the issue at hand again.

“No no, don’t worry, stay with your family. They’d kill me if I made you miss out on spending time with them.” Jimmy jokes. “I’ve got Lister here, and Cecily’s number if I need it. My head isn’t giving me too much grief right now, anyway.”

“Wait, Lister, you’re there with him?” Bliss asks.

“Yeah, check it out!” Lister says, before picking up his phone and moving. He takes us out of what I think was his room, through a hallway and comes out into a large living room, where we can see Jimmy on a sofa looking at his phone. “Say hi to the chat, Jim!”

Everyone laughs as Jimmy gives an awkward wave to Lister’s phone. Lister then hangs up and launches himself into view of Jimmy’s screen, and the two shuffle about until they’re practically sitting on top of each other, faces

squished together so the tiny phone camera captures them both. I hate how cute they look together.

“Alright, if you’re sure, Jimmy,” Rowan says, smiling for probably the first time this whole call.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Jimmy smiles back. “This whole situation is terrifying, and I’m more than ready to hide in my room and not see another mad fangirl for the rest of my life, but... if I did that we’d never get to hang out with Angel again.” He finishes, biting his lip as if unsure of whether or not the joke will hit.

“Uh..ouch!” I clap my hand on top of my heart dramatically and laugh, while the others join in. “I’ll have you know I’ve abandoned my fangirl ways. Mostly. Sort of. Okay, not completely but I’m not shipping real people anymore, so that’s something, right?!”

Lister is giving Jimmy a look of what I can only assume is pride for making a decent joke during a time of peak anxiety, Rowan has his head in his hands, probably contemplating his life choices now that Lister seems to be rubbing off on Jimmy, and Bliss still looks shocked that such a joke came out of Jimmy’s mouth, not Lister’s. When things calm down again, I check the time and speak up again.

“Well this has been fun Jim, but I’m afraid I have mad fangirl duties to be getting back to. Shrines to build, fanfiction to write, you know how it is.” I say sarcastically.

“Thanks again, Angel, for being here, and listening. And you’d better be right about that fandom drama.” Jimmy laughs again, although this time I see his smile falter a bit.

“Hey, look at me,” I say, moving as close to the screen as I can without squishing my face on it. “Things will settle down before you know it, in the meantime, we’re all here for you. You’re not alone in this.” Rowan and Bliss nod in agreement, and I see Lister hug Jimmy closer. Jimmy takes a breath and nods as well.

“Thanks Angel. And good luck with your exam. We’ll see you over the holidays.” He smiles.

“Yeah you got this Angel, go smash it!” Bliss chimes in, giving me a thumbs up and a grin. I say one last goodbye to them all, and hang up.

I look back down at my pizza, still uneaten. I need to stop letting myself get distracted during phone calls. I can eat and talk to my friends at the same time. I’m usually a master at it.

“Fereshteh!” I look up again. Either I’m going loony, or someone just said-

“FERESHTEH!” I turn around and see Mollie and Christina barrelling towards me, with the most excitement I’ve ever seen on a students’ face during exam season. They crash into my table and both start talking at once.

“Have you seen??”

“Did you know??”

“How long have they been together?!”

“Oh my god is this why you won’t tell us about what happened in Kent?!”

“Woah, easy on the interrogation! Seriously, you guys need to work on your interview skills.” I put my hands up in surrender and laugh. Mollie rolls her eyes at me.

“So? Did they tell you or what?” She asks again. I roll my eyes back at her.

“You know I don’t want to tell you guys anything about the boys. They trust me, and I’m not going to fuck that up because of some shit a tabloid prints.”

“How dare you appeal to our morality and ethics, we want gossip dammit!” Christina giggles, lightly banging her fist down on the table.

“Then stick to the Twitter pages.” I stick my tongue out at her. Mollie and Christina are two of my housemates, and are part of the Ark fandom. I never planned on telling them about Kent, but they figured out who I was thanks to the pictures of me and Jimmy on the train. I didn’t think you could tell it was me, but fangirls are like master detectives. They figured it out in less than a week. They haven’t told anyone though, they’re good mates.

“So how are you feeling about all of this? Whether you knew or not, having it out in the press like this is a lot to handle, especially after last time.” Mollie says, now in serious mode.

“It is a lot, definitely, but they’ll be fine. They’ve had this happen before and they know what to expect from the fans. I just wish I could be there for them.” I say, sitting back in my chair.

“I get

that, it must suck that you guys are so far apart now.” Christina chimes in.

“I mean it’s not like we ever lived close to each other before. The only reason we even crossed paths over the summer was because I was staying with a friend. But yeah, being away from them all is kind of hard sometimes.” I sigh dramatically, making Mollie and Christina grin.

“Are you going to visit them over Christmas?” Christina asks.

“I’m definitely going to visit my friend in London again, for a day or two, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to see the boys.” I quickly lie. “They cut back on public events but they’re still really busy most of the time. And this,” I gesture to my phone “definitely won’t help.”

“We’ll keep an eye on fandom updates for you, and try to shut any mentions of Jowan down,” Mollie says, reaching across the table and giving my hand a gentle squeeze. I squeeze hers back and give her a grateful smile. I mostly stopped interacting with the fandom after meeting the boys, reading fanfiction, and discussing theories with other fans just feels weird and creepy to do when the people you’re talking about are your friends. So it’s nice that I have Mollie and Christina looking out for them, and doing what I can’t. Christina has a pretty big following on Tumblr, and Mollie’s a Twitter ace, so I trust them to hold their ground with the fandom.

“Okay, you don’t have to give us any details, but genuinely, what do you think of Lister and Jimmy as a couple? Because I don’t think the fandom could handle a breakup.” Christina says after a while, making me laugh.

“Pfft, yeah I don’t think the boys could handle a breakup, either.” I smile. “But honestly? I think they’ll be good for each other. Lister is good at helping Jimmy relax and step out of his anxiety bubble, and Jimmy can help reign in Lister’s chaotic energy. Plus they’re freaking cute together, I mean just look at this picture!” I finish, gesturing dramatically to my phone again.

“They are so cute!” Mollie nods in agreement. “I’m actually shocked no one thought to ship them together before.”

“That’s the Jowan storm, for you,” Christina adds. “Can’t believe we ever shipped that.”

“So gross.” I shudder at the thought. Suddenly the alarm I’d set this morning went off, making us all jump.

“What’s that?” Mollie asks. I check the screen and practically leap out of my seat.

“Oh shit, my exam starts in 10 minutes!” I say, gathering my stuff up as quickly as I can. I say my goodbyes to Mollie and Christina and start running back across campus to the exam hall.

I make it just in time, much to the invigilator’s chagrin, check my bag in at the desk at the back of the hall, and collapse into my assigned seat. The exam starts, and it’s only when it does that my stomach reminds me that I never actually ate lunch. Shit.

I start to silently scold myself for being so stupid, when my mind starts drifting to the video chat with Jimmy and the others. He and Lister looked so comfortable with each other. Makes sense, they've known each other for so long. But even still, Jimmy looked so much happier once Lister sat down with him, and Lister himself practically seemed at home with Jimmy’s arms wrapped around him. I smile at my exam paper.

I’m so happy for them.

#osemanverse #i was born for this #iwbft #bicci #angel rahimi #jimmy kaga ricci #lister bird #juliet schwartz #bliss lai

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ijwrsmff · 3 years

Note

Can I request the fluff alphabet for Kokichi? All of it, if you can. Thank you :)

Here you go! Hope you like it! I have such a love hate relationship with this boy XD

A-Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?)

He likes to play games! Video games, card games, board games, he doesn’t really care. He especially likes ones that he’s better than you at. He does like to win, afterall.

B-Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?)

Determination. If you’re determined, no matter what it may be for, he respects it. He loves nothing more than to see you work at what you’re passionate about. He may not HELP you to learn it, but he does enjoy sitting and watching you put in the work.

C-Comfort (how would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack/etc.?)

He’s...not very good at comforting you. He tries, he really does, but often he’ll make jokes to make you laugh...but sometimes you’re really not in the mood to laugh so it comes across as insensitive.

D-Dreams (how do they picture their future with their s/o?)

He’s already planned your future in 50 different scenarios. He’ll make you look at each and every one of them until you pick one you like. Then? He’ll do anything in his power to make it happen.

E-Equal (are they the dominant one in their relationship or are they more passive?)

He likes to be in charge, but occasionally he’d like you to make the choices. Little stuff, he’ll always be in charge. Stuff like what you’re going to eat he will always choose, but bigger decisions like what kind of car you’ll buy...he’d rather you make the choice. Though he will make his stance clear no matter who will be making the decision.

F-Fight (would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?)

He would never get physical with you, but he would yell. A lot. Especially if he feels like he’s being ignored. He really...really can’t stand the feeling of being ignored. He’s always ready to fight, but tries to calm himself down before it escalates to that. It doesn’t work every time...but sometimes it does when he’s in a particularly good mood.

G-Gratitude (How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?)

He often takes things for granted. Especially in the beginning of the relationship. But once you become more intimate with each other he spends every day thinking about how lucky he is to have you.

H-Honesty (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?)

Soooooo many secrets. About what he does, how he’s feeling, sometimes even if he’s unhappy with something you did. He’ll keep it all a secret and avoid your questions by asking another question to throw you off.

I-Inspiration (Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?)

You really change each other. He makes you feel grateful for what you have, and you make him feel grateful for...well everything. If he didn’t have you, he wouldn’t have near the drive to accomplish things relating to his ultimate.

J-Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)

God...he gets so jealous. He doesn’t show it, but even you talking to other people can sometimes send a ping of jealousy right to his heart. He’ll laugh about it and join in on whatever conversation you’re having, sending a warning glare to whoever you were talking to. Now if someone was flirting with you...he’d go eerily quiet. He’d pull you away from that person and send a glare their way...but only in his eyes. His signature grin will be on his face the whole time, which is somehow scarier.

K-Kiss (are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?)

He’d initiate your first kiss rather quick. He likes to show how he’s feeling with actions rather than words, so kisses will be frequent. As for how good he is...well he’s had SOME practice. He’s a very enthusiastic kisser if anything and that makes up for any lack of skill.

L-Love confession (how would they confess to their s/o?)

“Y/n~” He would lean in close, making a blush form on your cheeks, “Guess what?”

“What?”

“You have a not so secret admirer~”

You would pause, not knowing if this was another one of his games.

You finally caved and asked “who?”

That’s when he leans up and kisses your cheek.

“Me! That’s who! You must be so happy to know your obvious feelings for me are returned!”

M-Marriage (do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?)

At first he is 100% against marriage. But...after getting closer to you his views have changed. Now...he actually has hope for the future as long as you’re in it. He would make a grand display of his proposal, going to the fanciest restaurant. He would tap his wine glass, just to get everyone’s attention. When things quiet down he’ll stand in front of you, looking more hesitant than you’ve ever seen him as.

“Marry me!” He would proclaim before putting on the ring before you had the chance to respond.

“Oh, it’s okay you don’t have to say it. I know you’ll say yes.”

N-Nicknames (what do they call their s/o?)

He plays around with nicknames frequently, trying out each and every one he can think of and taking note of the ones that worked the best on you. His personal favorite is darling. He likes that it shows how dear you are to him.

O-On cloud nine (what are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious to others? How do they express their feelings?)

He buys you a lot...a LOT of things. You mentioned something the day before? Oh look it’s on your doorstep. He catches you looking at something in one of the store windows? He’s dragging you in to buy it. This makes it rather obvious when he’s in love because you will always be wearing SOMETHING he bought you. Be it a new shirt or jewelry, whatever makes you happy.

P-PDA (are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?)

He’s very upfront. He’ll let anyone and everyone know that you’re his. He’s yours too but...he would never admit to it. He would kiss you if you were on stage in front of a thousand people. He doesn’t care what others think, he just likes to show you’re together.

Q-Quirk (some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship?)

He’s a good leader, so if anything began to bother you he would take control with no hesitation. This has helped in many ways, ranging from wanting to leave an event to indecision about a major matter.

R-Romance (how romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliche or rather creative?)

He CAN be romantic. But he has to be in a good mood. Usually...you put him in that good mood. Other days he’s not up to it at all. He won’t even want to cuddle on the bad days, even if he knows it would really help.

S-Support (are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?)

He may not help, but he’ll keep you company while you work/study. Though...often times he’s more of a distraction than not. “Y/N! Play with me!”

“Not now i’m working/studying.”

“Aw, you’re no fun! Fine! I’ll go keep myself entertained then.”

T-Thrill (do they need to try out new things to spice up their relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?)

He loooooves to try new things. New restaurants, a new game that was just released, any date ideas you bring up, he’ll try anything once.

U-Understanding (how good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?)

He isn’t very empathetic, and he doesn’t know EVERYTHING about you. But every once in a while he’ll surprise you by bringing up something you had talked about months ago. When you tell him something about yourself...he’ll remember it forever.

V-Value (how important is the relationship to them? What’s it worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

His crew comes first, no questions asked. He’ll pester you to join as well, he sees it as combining his two favorite things.

W-Wild Card (a random fluff headcanon)

He cuddles you in his sleep. Even on days he won’t want to cuddle, once he’s asleep he’s entirely wrapped around you.

X-Xoxo (are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?)

He likes to show his affection through touch, and it’s near constant. Hand holding, arm around your waist or shoulders, even just sitting as close to you as possible so your sides touch. He kisses you many...many times a day. It’s one of his favorite ways to show he cares.

Y-Yearning (how will they cope when they’re missing their partner?)

He’s an absolute wreck without you. When you’re gone he’ll text you a million times about random stuff. Sometimes it’s weird facts he learned, others are over-exaggerated stories of things he’s done with his crew.

Z-Zeal (are they willing to go to great lengths for their relationship? If so, what kind of?)

He would fight someone for you. He would risk his own life...just for a chance to get back at anyone who hurt you. Now...he wouldn’t leave his crew even if you desperately wanted him to, but he’d make you second in command if you ever wanted to join.

#kokichi oma x reader #kokichi x reader #x reader #dr3 #dr3 x reader

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dutchdread · 3 years

Note

No offense bro, but why are you always so protective of Cloud? No disrespect to you or anything but I've heard quite a bit of different opinions and theories on Cloud myself and I do agree with the people who say that he takes Tifa for granted. Going through trauma in the past is not really an excuse for his behavior. He also does act like he's the only one who has suffered in his life. Do you have other reason to defend him other than the fact that you "relate" to him? Just wondering.

Sorry for the late reply, my life has basically left no room for hobbies these past months. Your question is hard to reply to because I am not sure what you mean when you say I am protective of him. I guess you mean I defend his actions? Specifically in ACC? Firstly let me state that there is a difference between being a good character and being a nice character, there is also a difference between agreeing with someones actions, or just understanding them. Personally, I never really liked Cloud, especially not when I was younger. A lot of my defense of Cloud doesn't come from me personally liking him, but from me thinking he's a good character. I also think Snape is a good character, but I don't like his actions, and I don't defend them, although I still understand them to a certain degree. I should also say that as I started to understand Clouds character more, I also started liking HIM a bit more, although I still don't like the things he did, and would very likely not be friends with him. But I do understand why he did what he did and cannot be too critical of him because of that. You've probably heard that before you judge someone, you should walk a mile in their shoes. That's great advice, if you want to judge someone, you should imagine what it would be like to be them, however, I've noticed that too often when people try to walk a mile in someone elses shoes, they refuse to take their own shoes off first. They don't think "what would it be like to be him", they think "what would I do in that position". But Cloud is not you, and you cannot judge him by how you would act, you've not gone through the same things he has, your thought patterns aren't the same etc. This matters because too often I see people judging Clouds actions in ACC, and establishing his motivations by saying things that boil down to "If I were in his position, I would only do those actions if I loved Aerith/didn't love Tifa/whatever". But they're not Cloud, and they're not understanding how Cloud thinks, and that it's different from how THEY think. But like you said, I do see some recognizable elements of myself in Cloud, which is why I do understand his actions, and why I feel relatively certain in defending them, because I see them coming from a good place. It's common for me to react to things in a way that others find counter-intuitive. Let me give you an example, my brother once was mad at me because I had not told him my girlfriend of several years and I had broken up while I did tell a random stranger at the pub. He said that he felt like he wasn't important to me if I told a random stranger but not him. The truth was the exact opposite, I love my brother, and could not bear to face him for some reason, as I told him: "if not caring enough was the problem, then I wouldn't have told a random stranger". I see people exhibit that same lack of understanding when discussing Clouds actions, where they feel like his actions must be the sign of him just being a bad person, or not caring. But ask yourself what is more likely, that Square-enix wants their hero to be a bad person, or that you simply are misunderstanding the character? I understand why people don't get Cloud, Cloud suffers from obvious mental health issues, and mental health issues simply are not something that the general public understands, even today. Not only that, but Cloud went through the most insane series of traumatic events anyone could ever imagine. He had an alien parasite in him, saw his entire town murdered before his eyes, then saw Zack murdered in front of his eyes, then saw Aerith murdered in front of his eyes, and just when he started living a peaceful life he is forced to watch his child succumb to sickness in front of his eyes, and then he finds he himself is dying. All this on the psyche of a man who had had a fear of failure ever since he was a child, spent most of his life essentially in war, and had a severe identity crisis as well. Do you think you can honestly judge him by going "that's not what I would have done"? Would that not be incredibly

presumptuous? Have you suffered from depression as a result of severe post-war PTSD and a lifelong feeling of inadequacy combined with a fear of failure and the belief that many of your loved ones died because you failed and were inadequate? Because that's the context in which you have to view Cloud when watching Advent Children. Saying "Going through trauma in the past is not really an excuse for his behavior" is just incredibly short-sighted, your behavior is determined by who you are, and who you are is determined by what you go through in the past. You can't expect a broken child to become a well-adjusted adult when being a well-adjusted adult is the result of having a normal childhood.

I also don't want to cause offense, but this really is a mindset you should change, because this mindset is one of the most pervasive and damaging ones in our society, it's the one that probably bothers me most when I hear it because it makes zero sense. It's like breaking a robots self-repair unit, and then being angry at it on the grounds that the self-repair unit should have fixed it. It's also very insensitive in general, it's the equivalent of saying "why are you depressed, just stop being depressed", people don't choose to be depressed, people don't choose to have a fear of failure. People don't choose their emotions, they're just there. They can be influenced by behavior over time, sure, but behavior is equally influenced by who you are and your emotions, which, as mentioned before, is determined for a large part by your past. People don't just "snap out of it". They fight and fight and fight, and sometimes they win and break out of the spiral, and sometimes they lose and it breaks them.

FFVII, and especially Advent children, is all about that struggle, and during those struggles you will have high-points, and low-points. FFVII shows all of those. It shows Cloud trying, it shows Cloud wanting, it shows Cloud failing, but it also, ultimately, shows Cloud prevailing. Judging Cloud for not breaking out of the spiral by the time of Advent children, when he was mentally only barely 18 years old, and when he started at the worst place anyone could ever imagine, is just not reasonable. It's the modern day equivalent of "let them eat cake", something that can only be said from the place of privilege of not knowing what the struggles of the people you're critiquing are actually like. So having that out of the way, lets look at Clouds actions from the perspective of Cloud. Cloud is a young boy, and he's in love with the girl next door, he wants to get her to notice him. One day said girl walks up a mountain and he follows, she falls off a bridge and ends in a coma. Cloud followed her because he's in love with her, and he gets the blame from the adults. Cloud internalizes this, and its important to imagine what this must be like for a child, to have the adults all tell him it's his fault that the person he loves ended up hurt. "your fault", "your fault". Afterwards Cloud starts thinking Tifa hates him and starts acting out. I think this is a good moment to point out btw that this child has no father figure. This is the start of his feelings of failure and inadequacy, he blames himself for not being able to protect Tifa, failure number 1, he thinks that if he were strong, he'd be able to protect her, he thinks that if he were like Sephiroth, then even Tifa would have to notice him. Now until this time Cloud is not an asshole, he's a bit of a rebellious kid yes, but notice that he's not a bad kid as much as he's a kid who wants to protect someone, has no direction, and is acting out. So Cloud thinks he's not good enough, but he leaves town confident that he'll become good enough, and even makes a promise to Tifa. All this follows logically from what we know about Cloud, and tells us a lot about how deeply seated these feelings are. Becoming Soldier wasn't a small thing, not some small passion project that he just came up with one day, it's the result of the things that happened in his childhood and he left everything behind make it so. He told the girl he loved, he promised, he boasted. And then he failed. Failure number 2. He comes back to Nibleheim and can't bear to look Tifa in the eye and admit that he couldn't do it, that he's a failure. His entire life so far has revolved around this and he wasn't good enough. So here we have Cloud, not in a great mindset, thinking he's a failure, and what happens? His entire town is murdered by the person he admired, someone he worked with. His Mother is killed, and Tifa, the girl he PROMISED to protect, gets slashed open so badly that apparently she needed to have her ribcage reinforced with metal. I think we can all agree that this by itself would be enough to potentially scar a person for life. (Cloud, not Tifa XD) So what's next for the boy who left town in order to become a hero? Well, he gets captured and experimented on for 4 years, during which his mind and sense of identity is bombarded with memories and knowledge of the lifestream in the form of mako, muddying up his thoughts. Cloud already had a weak sense of self as a result of his childhood, it's why he failed to enter Soldier and now this distaste for who he is makes him extra susceptible to Jenovas influence. The next thing Cloud sees, (he didn't consciously experience the 4 years of mind-fuckery) is his best friend getting killed trying to protect him, because Cloud wasn't strong enough. Failure #3. At this point, in Clouds mind the list of people dead because he could not protect them, because he's a failure, include his mother, his entire town, his best friend, and as far as he knows, the girl he loves. This is his life. His mind is broken, he hates himself, he doesn't want to be himself,

he has a mind-altering parasite inside of him trying to adjust his identity and Clouds just goes "I reject this reality and constitute my own". And why wouldn't he? Why wouldn't he want to live in a fantasy world where he wasn't a failure, where he made it into soldier, where he was cool and successful and not a disappointing failure? Zack tells him to be his living legacy and Cloud goes with it, then he runs into Tifa, Jenova adjusts Cloud further based on Tifas memories of them and rejoined with the girl for whom he joined Soldier Cloud is unconsciously all too willing to play the part. FFVII starts and it doesn't take long for the cracks in his fake persona to show, he meets Aerith, and becomes her bodyguard. He gets to be the hero he always wanted to be. But then, even as "Cloud strife, soldier first class", Cloud is still a failure, the plate still drops, killing thousands, he gives Sephiroth the black materia, he beats up Aerith, and ultimately, fails to save her as well. Tifa was the First Failure, and Aerith was the Final Failure. Even as a soldier, Cloud still couldn't save anyone, he loses even more faith in himself, he doesn't know who he is, he doesn't trust himself, and then when he also loses Tifas trust in who he is, he just breaks and gives over to Jenova/Sephiroth. Even Hojo calls him a failure. Cloud feels like a nobody. Now mentally weakened, under the influence of jenova cells, he gives Sephiroth the black materia AGAIN, and meteor is summoned. Another entry on the long list of moments Cloud can look back on in shame later on in life. He falls into the lifestream and again his psyche is under attack. We know what happens afterwards, Tifa finds him, cares for him, and saves him through his feelings for her. Cloud realizes who he is, realizes he's weak, and goes after Sephiroth without lying to himself. In the end he defeats Sephiroth mentally and is supposedly rid of his direct influence.

But that doesn't mean that this mentally 17 year old is now fine, we should remember these events when analyzing ACC. Cloud has been in constant fighting/war/peril ever since he left home as a child, and is now a traumatized 17 year old in a 21 year olds body. Novels and other materials give us an insight into how Cloud thinks during these times, and how he thinks about himself. We hear him say that he's going to live because that's the only way he can atone for his sins. He talks about wanting to change, and about believing he can change because he now has Tifa. He's a man (boy) who just exited war, and wants to be positive, but is still clearly blaming himself. We see that this initially goes well, we are told that Cloud experiences peace and happiness that he's never experienced before. We're also told about the things that make it go badly, when he has to deliver flowers to the ancient city for instance. While Cloud regained the sense of who he was the belief that he wasn't good enough, that he was a failure, was never solved, if anything it was put on hold until he got his memories back, and now he is forced to deal with it.

While he is no longer directly manipulated by Sephiroth he's still suffering from PTSD and, most notably, survivors guilt. He blames himself for the deaths of Zack and Aerith in particular, and starts visiting the church. Now most people might think it's natural to avoid places that make you feel bad about yourself, but that's not how a depressed person thinks, Cloud thinks he deserves to feel badly he WANTS to punish himself, he WANTS to feel bad. He's ashamed of the moments where he's carefree and laughing with Tifa. Why should he get to be happy when Aerith and Zack are dead because of him? He shouldn't be happy, he should be in pain, he should remember them, not doing so would be an insult to their memories, he must never forget how he failed them! That's how Cloud is thinking. We know of course that this is non-sense, Aerith and Zack wouldn't want this, if anything it's this mindset that is tarnishing the memories of Aerith and Zack, but that's not how a mentally unwell person thinks. Cloud wants to atone, and thinks he finds salvation in Denzel, whom he finds at Aeriths church. He thinks that by saving this life, he can, in some way, make up for all the death he caused. Tifa has a similar belief when she finds out Denzels parents died in the plate crash. And when Denzel joins the family, and Cloud has path towards redemption in his mind, things start getting better again. Because this is the cause of the problems Cloud is having in ACC. When Nojima says:

first off, there’s the premise that things won’t go well between Tifa and Cloud, and that even without Geostigma or Sephiroth this might be the same

This is the conflict he's talking about, he's not saying "Tifa and Cloud are incompatible, it has nothing to do with Sephiroth", he's saying "if Sephiroth didn't show up during Advent children, Cloud and Tifa would still be having problems because Cloud is going through survivors guilt."

But the good times don't last, Denzel has Geostigma and Cloud cannot find a cure, Denzel....is going to die. Cloud, has failed again. Not only that, but Cloud catches Geostigma....Cloud is going to die. And THIS is why Cloud leaves in Advent children. And you have to look at this as Cloud. Cloud said he was going to live to atone for his sins, but instead he's going to die. He won't atone for his sins, even worse, he's going to leave Tifa and Marlene behind. He failed again. He couldn't protect Denzel, he potentially brought an infectious disease into their house as well. Literally all Cloud can think about is that literally everything he's ever tried has ended in failure, everyone he's ever tried to protect, he's failed at. Do you understand how easy it would be for a person like this to fall into the trap of thinking "I deserve to die", "I don't want Tifa and Marlene to see me die", "Tifa and Marlene are better off without me anyway", "they'd be happier if I weren't here". Etc. Now we know this is nonsense, but come on, how many instances have you heard of depressed people genuinely believing that their loved ones would be happier and better off if they just didn't exist? However, throughout the movie, Zack, Tifa, and Aerith, all confront Cloud, and urge him to not give up. Cloud eventually does try again, and ultimately finds redemption not by being stuck in the past, but by letting the past rest and be beautiful (a lesson Cleriths unfortunately never learned). "I never blamed you you know, not once" "I want to be forgiven. By who?" "Isn't it about time you did the forgiving?" In the end, Cloud moves on, and therefore, so do Zack and Aerith. Aerith and Zack walk into the light, Cloud plants flowers on Zacks grave, and lets Zacks buster sword rest in Aeriths church, now no longer rusting, but shining. Instead of the past being a negative reminder, Cloud lets the past be beautiful. Cloud was doing Aerith and Zack a disservice by remembering them the way he did, because it was ruining his life, it wasn't a good thing, but it did come from a good place, from a good man whose ashamed of not being good enough. Yes, it harmed Tifa, people going through these things often do hurt those around them, but it's not because they're bad people, or even weak, but because people are imperfect and Cloud has gone through hell, both internally, and externally. Are his actions really that weird or deplorable? "He didn't even go save the kids!" Yes, he's hesitant about saving the kids, why shouldn't he be? Everyone Cloud tried to protect or save, ended up maimed or worse, or as Cloud puts it: "I can't even save myself". "He left Tifa alone!" Yes, he thinks he's going to waste away and die, can you blame him for not wanting to put Tifa through that and for thinking she'd be better off without him? "He drinks!" Wouldn't you?! Who wouldn't want to forget that stuff? But in the end, He's only gone for about a week, he never intended to harm Tifa, he never physically harmed Tifa or cheated on her, his entire life revolved around wanting to be better for Tifa and blaming himself when he wasn't good enough, how is it reasonable to say this man takes Tifa for granted when the fact that he thinks he has to BE BETTER in order to be worthy of being with her has been a constant throughout his entire life and story? He DOESN'T take Tifa for granted, that's why he's beating himself up, that's why he leaves, not because he thinks he's better than her, or that he'll always have her, or that she'll follow him like a dog, or something like that. But because of the opposite, because he thinks HE is not good enough, that SHE would be better of without him. Saying Cloud takes Tifa for granted, is honestly, simply, wrong. It's 180 degrees the opposite of what is happening in FFVII, the biggest constant in Clouds life, is that he doesn't take Tifa for granted, and I don't understand how anyone could argue otherwise.

#cloti #FFVII #ffvii crisis core #ffvii advent children #ffvii remake

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fishtre · 3 years

Note

Oh lord your work has honestly has got to be one of the things that truly cemented me into being a Jason fan when I started to enter the fandom. I just wanted to ask; Has Dick or Bruce ever seen Jason (or even Jessie; im a fuckibg lesbian for her) while they were at a low point? Or have they ever seen something in Jay's behavior that seriously made them stop and think for a moment?

Oof-!!! o-okay. I wasn't ready for this. So many responsibilities??? Thanks and welcome! XD

*****

> Have they ever seen something in Jay's behavior that seriously made them stop and think for a moment?

This goes for Jay and Femjay

For Dick: No. Dick and Jason aren’t close. They know each other through Bruce who is this deforming prism between them: lingers even in his absence. This + a lack of a relationship = Dick's empathy sleeping where Jason is involved since day one. Meanwhile, Jason just doesn't trust Dick nor expect his sympathy as the replacement goldfish Bruce picked up (or the outlaw Jason later become). They avoid/ignore rather than seek/antagonize each other (unless the situation demands violence). Hence, it’s not granted Dick could recognize the moment for what it was and not chalk it up as “classic Jason”.

As for Bruce: short answer is YES. Their whole history is paved with moments where Bruce has (usually late) epiphanies about Jason and himself. And this’ pretty much how Jason got benched after a rapist went flying through a balcony to meet the concrete twenty floors lower.

More to say, so long AF rant below the cut. Mostly about canon interpretation I use for characterisation + some side notes about Femjay at the very end. The essential is above tho.

Starts with “Batman the Cult”:

Aka Batman goes missing while investigating an underground sect that kidnaps homeless people. When Jason finally finds him, Bruce is a drugged, tortured, half-raving mad man on a pile of corpses who've been living in the sewers for weeks. Jason tries to bring Batman to his senses and at the surface but he's so damaged in and out that Robin has to guide him back home like a lost child. Eventually they get surrounded by the cult members. After a "it was an honor to meet and fight with you sir" Robin got outflanked. Begs Bruce to help as a crowd of drugged hobos tries to literally tear him apart. Jason is like 14-15yo and it takes these three "adult fears" in a row (child going “yolo” + child protecting the powerless adult + watching child get almost killed) for Bruce to finally fight back and save the day.

Which brings us to the following event: The rapist and the balcony :p. Bruce can't prove if Jason committed the crime or not so the act in itself isn't the point. Jason admitting he didn't try to catch the falling rapist, no feeling remorse to potentially causing someone's death is what alarms Bruce here.

Between the Cult and this, for me it's definitely when Bruce first gets blessed with many epiphanies; 1) Jason’s attitude toward death, his or the crooks' lives, his soldier-like devotion to Bruce during the Cult is alarming. 2) Turns out Jason have different opinions regarding Justice, the right to redemption or vigilantism. Opinions that are pretty irreconcilable with Bruce’s. 3) He's not shaking the grip Gotham has on the boy at all (his reason or excuse to take Jason in at first.) 4) Jason's indulging Bruce and playing by his rules because love and respect (he hopes), not because Jason understands or believes in Bruce's methods or share his creeds. 5) He may had been emotionally compromised when he took in Jason (as Dick accuses him to be) and had been making thing worse for the boy, failing Jason as a mentor/guardian and an adult.

As the “greatest detective”, it weighs on Bruce that he ultimately failed Jason in knowing the boy and providing what he needs; his guilt and irresponsibility catching up to him all at once. From Bruce’s perspective, this has cost a man's life and Jason’s “innocence”, simply because he (or anyone) didn’t manage to see Jason for who he is; a more troubled child than he or Dick ever was, and that despite having all the clues in the world to figure it out. In result Jason and Robin are benched. Jason dies before Bruce can find what he should do. That's it. UTRH could be seen as Jason at a low point I guess. But special mention to when Bruce "walks away" to not choose between Red Hood and Joker before aiming a batarang at RH's gun, Jason sits down in silence and simply gives up; resigned to wait for the bomb to blow up, not caring if Bruce or Joker get away or die with him. A stark contrast to how determined and mouthy he's been until then. Jason "accepts" what he sees as Bruce's choice: that Joker is more or equally as important to him than Jason. Bruce has to pull him away from the worst of the blast so it's fair to say that he must notice. It doesn't manage to make Bruce stops and thinks, but the conclusion to that story on Bruce's side this time is that while Jason is back and alive, the event in UTRH achieved to kill the boy he knew and lost.

As for femjay, here a bit more trivia just for her AU:

Dick first thought after discovering that new Robin was a tomboy, whom Bruce also addresses or presents as one 90% of the time does alarms him a bit in the midst of his confusion. But when he half-questions Jason about it, she mocks him about this incident and shuts him off with a "none of your beeswax". Fuming, Dick brushes it off as being some kind of pervert game between Bruce and Jason, be it Bruce trying to replace and hurt him, introverted misogyny, lesbian culture or whatever. None of his beeswax. He doesn't look deeper into it. He leaves Gotham and only comes back for her "funeral". As a general rule, looking into Jason- related stuff and not minding his business when she is involved, always ends up biting Dick in the arse.

Bruce never really brushes the subject of what Jason may have done or not in order to survive on the streets for two years or why her parents gave her a boy name. He takes what Jason gives him on this (which is little) and doesn't pry into it further since Jason's medical checkups are fairly good and promising. Jason is a girl who prefers to blend in as a boy and Bruce plays along, secretly relieved because Bruce has no idea how to deal with a pre-teen/teenage girl. So yeah; he's scared and this is a blessing for him and she looks happy like that. Bruce avoids using pronouns to avoid confusion himself (which is partly why Dick got so confused by Jason's gender when they first met).

Nobody but Alfred realizes she starts corseting herself with bandages and a sports bra by the end of second year at the manor. Or that she buys pads and razors on the dozen with who knows what money since she asks for nothing. Old-fashioned Wayne's British butler is barely more at ease with Jason's womanhood than Bruce, but Al does take the initiative to give her an allowance so she can buy underwears when she first arrives. He simply raises that allowance to cover her new needs with a cryptic and awkward explanation. But because Jason doesn't know how to choose a bra she sticks to what she knows, aka; keeps wearing a sports bra and flattening her chest as best as she can while residing at the Manor. By the time she comes back as Red Hood, Jason is too curvy to hide so she doesn't. Also; Talia... While she still was only trying to use Jason against or to win Bruce back, she's appalled to learn what Jason used to do to her breasts, and took pity of her. She forcefully take Jason out shopping for her first actual bra at 17-18 yo and teach her some more basics.

#reply #jason and the curse of the anime tiddies AU #aye 2/10 answers answered #( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

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kingofkingdom-archive · 3 years

Text

So Much Like Stars - Part ONE

Pairing: Boba Fett x Fem!Reader

Part ONE (read part two here!)

Rating: Explicit

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

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

Word count: 8.2k+

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did she say anything of his appearance?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I always do, father.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Isrwill was right. Well-dressed for battle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The hunter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This seat taken?”

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

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

The noise picks up again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How long have your people lived here?”

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

He wants to know how vulnerable you are.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sets the helmet on the table with a thud .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A bit strong for you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The water.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The hunter hums. “And it works?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You shake your head. “No, I do not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” you nod. “They have tried.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“None of them could give me --”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, Boba.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

It thrills you, to have these secret desires.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You have no choice but to do as he says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"On me," you reply. "Wherever you want."

He grunts, looking back down, and thrusts a few more times, deep and bruising. As soon as he pulls out you mourn the loss of him, the fullness inside of you, but you're rewarded with a vision unlike any you've seen before. Boba takes himself in hand, and with a loud groan, cums across your ass, his spend dripping down your thighs and onto your pussy lips. He covers you with himself, marking you up.

Once he's finished, Boba runs a hand through the cum on your skin, pressing firmly and rubbing it in.

"Been wanting to do that since I saw you in the meeting hall, little one."

You hum, eyes fluttering closed at the thought of it. What a scandal - the Chieftain's daughter falling for the stranger, the first foreigner to visit the village in living memory.

Behind you, Boba shifts off of the couch. He stands beside you and then you register that he's moving you, strong hands arranging your limp body so he can pick you up. One arm slips beneath your knees and the other under your back.

"Bedroom's upstairs," you murmur.

He brings you there, tucking you into bed carefully and then turning to undo his armor. As you watch him methodically remove each piece, you get the feeling that you're privy to something rare. Though you're sleepy, your eyes remain open, intent on keeping this memory clear.

The thought crosses your mind that this man must know so much of the universe. He's probably been to hundreds of planets, has hundreds of stories.

You've only ever known snow and wind.

"Boba?"

He's just finished with the last of his armor when you speak. He sits down on the edge of the bed next to you and puts his hand on your side.

"Yes, princess?"

You gaze up into his eyes, dark but soft when looking at you.

"What's the most beautiful place you've ever been to?"

He smiles at that, letting out a soft chuckle. "I've been to so many places that it's hard to keep track, little one."

You pout. He moves to settle into bed next to you, under the layers of fur and fleece that keep you warm.

"You must have a favorite," you insist, curling up against him, head resting on his bicep.

He's quiet for a minute, thinking. You wait, though sleep threatens to pull you under. Boba's words lull you out of the beginnings of your slumber.

"I think you'd like Naboo," he tells you. You've read about it, about their system of governance. You can't recall seeing any pictures or illustrations, though.

"It's very green," he explains. "There's meadows and forests everywhere. Their cities are vast, the buildings beautiful in themselves. I traveled there with my father when I was young."

You want to ask more, to learn about this place so different from anything you know. Your mind is racing with imaginings when you fall asleep, cozy and warm against Boba Fett.

In the night, your dreams glow as bright as the sun.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fucks #mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #boba fett x female reader #female reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction

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fanficsandfluff · 3 years

Text

Tickles of Color Entry 2021

Heeeere we are! I hope you enjoy @twordficsnooneaskedfor !!! I really don't know the character of Ahsoka (never watched Clone Wars) but I tried my best! Thank you to @ticklesofcolor (@tickle-bugs and @peachytickles respectively) for hosting this super awesome event!

Fandom: Star Wars, The Mandalorian

Characters: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin), Ahsoka Tano, Grogu (The Child)

Words: 1,551

Ahsoka spent time with the youngling, listening. She did much listening, she realized, as the poor child could not communicate with anyone else, nor had he actually been able to speak in quite a long while. He was releasing and explaining. He spoke of the horrors, the not-so horrors. It was all feelings inside him, and then the Mandalorian would come into the picture. Grogu perked up.

“He’s made you happy,” Ahsoka smiled softly as the youngling nodded, cooing in agreement.

She listened some more and then cocked her head at something he said, “You want to make him happy?”

Grogu again nodded his little head, ears flopping.

Ahsoka placed two of her fingers on top of Grogu’s small hand, smiling at him, “I’m sure you’ve already made him happy, little one.”

The child’s head bowed, gurgling something like disappointment. He wasn’t enough. He was a burden… well, the Mandolorian has willingly protected him for this long… maybe less of a burden than he thought.

“Let’s meet with the Mandalorian for food. We’ll discuss options later,” and Ahsoka picked the child up and made her way back to the ship where said topic of conversation was cooking for them. It was a meager meal of hunted creatures, and they sat around a small burning fire.

The Mandalorian picked piece by piece of meat off the bone for the youngling. It turned out the child was eating the meat faster than the Mandalorian could tear it.

“Hungry, are we?” the tinny voice filtered through the helmet. Grogu made a noise of contentment. The next chunk given to the child was eaten at a purposely humorous fast pace, and both of them knew exactly what was going on.

“You’re very funny,” a gloved finger brushed under the child’s chin and the child giggled.

Ahsoka looked on, eating her own small cooked animal, crunching on the singed skin. She smiled when she heard the Mandalorian chuckle. He has already proven worthy of the child’s love and attention based on the way he helped him channel the Force during training.

The Jedi set her meal down and brushed off her hands, staring at the Mandalorian. Focusing, Ahsoka poised the fingers of one hand inconspicuously, aiming, and… The Mandalorian’s hand chased away an invisible bug on his neck, eyes searching for the culprit. Ahsoka bit the inside of her cheek… she can work with this.

“What do you need me to do?” Din asked the next morning, standing in the clearing in the woods with Ahsoka and Grogu.

“Your participation will be crucial for today’s training,” Ahsoka reassured, holding back a smile.

Ahsoka knelt down next to Grogu, who was placed onto a large rock. She whispered something into his ear. Grogu exclaimed in what to Din seemed like joy. Maybe he already knew whatever it was Ahsoka was telling him to do?

“Mando,” Ahsoka spoke louder now, “I’m going to demonstrate to him first.”

“Okay,” Din said, standing still. He didn’t know what was supposed to happen, but he waited.

Ahsoka pointed her hand towards him and he felt a crawling up his sides and back. He jerked, surprised, bewildered… all-around confused.

“You okay?” Ahsoka asked with a very visible smile on her face now.

“Y-Yeah.. Was it--? Is it supposed to feel so…” Din didn’t know how to describe what he felt so he wiggled his fingers in the air, “Scratchy?”

Ahsoka huffed a small laugh and Grogu made a noise, as well.

“Well, yes. But it’s very important you stay still.”

“Okay. Can you tell me what it is you’re teaching him?”

Ahsoka looked to the child to get his approval of what to say. Answer honestly? Grogu said no.

“It’s a Force touch. Like he’s feeling out into the world without having to move.”

Din nodded, “Alright. Just be more… careful, I guess.”

“Show one more time? Very well,” Ahsoka made up that part of conversation with the youngling as she once again poised her hand and made sparks fly all around the Mandalorian’s shielded sides and ribs. It encompassed him, feeling like they weren’t really touching him at first. It was like a breeze being blown all over his torso. But then the feeling zeroed in and Din barked out an obvious laugh. He hunched over, elbows pressing into his sides.

“W-Wahahait!”

Ahsoka was shaking her head, “If you cannot handle what I am demonstrating, I’m sure you’ll do much better with Grogu.”

“It feeheels so strange,” Din regained himself, clearing his throat after standing straight.

“That may happen from time to time,” Ahsoka smiled but her mind was on a slightly different track now, “What was it?”

“I don’t know. Like a buzzing. Not so much like touch, though.”

“I see,” Ahsoka raised her hand again, “It feels like this?” and Din was once again squirming, but this time trying to hold back his laughter at the feeling on his belly now.

“Yehes!” he croaked.

“It seems like it’s tickling you,” Ahsoka said what she was doing this whole time, stopping the sensations again.

“Tickling? No, isn’t that… that’s what babies feel.”

So, he really didn’t know. Her thought was correct.

“Grogu,” she knelt again by the child, “Would you like to try?”

The child shut his eyes like he usually did when he had to concentrate on the Force. He did that first to get the feeling in his bones and then opened them to aim it at the Mandalorian. Din stood still, fighting the very soft feelings. He didn’t move, didn’t laugh. Thank goodness for the helmet because they couldn’t see him smiling and biting on his lip.

“Kihihid!” he burst out laughing when there felt like a sharp, focused jab to his hips. Grogu giggled.

The Mandalorian couldn’t stay still. He could try and suppress the laughter, but he just couldn’t not squirm. He looked honestly very silly, squirming about, taking little hops and steps here and there. Ahsoka even snickered.

“You’re moving, Mando,” Ahsoka teased.

Grogu was enamored by the display. He’d never really heard the Mandalorian laugh before. He’d chuckle from time to time. But this was different. This was wilder.

“Y-You’re doing this on p-puhurpose!” Mando accused, arms secured to his middle.

Ahsoka started walking closer to the Mandalorian, “Grogu wanted to make you happy. This was our solution.”

Din’s heart warmed at hearing that. The kid only wanted to make sure he was happy. I guess it was hard to gauge under the helmet and all. He couldn’t always tell if he was smiling. But that warm heart was quickly frozen over once more when there were pinch-like motions on his lower ribs. This time those were real touches. From Ahsoka.

“Hahang on! I didn’t say you could actually do that,” he started backing away from the Jedi.

“Oh, my apologies. Grogu may continue,” Ahsoka smirked. Maybe Din should’ve just shut up.

Grogu giggled and tried again. He could really only get forceful pokes and jabs out with his Force; that or it was a spread-out attack. Both were devastating to Din.

The Mandalorian made the movements to walk over to Grogu on his rock to get him to stop. But he was taken down to his knees with laughter and weakness to tickling only halfway there.

Din hadn’t felt anything like this before. Maybe distantly, in a memory and a world he seldom remembered. He knows the touch of a small bug walking over his fingers, the feeling of water rushing against his bare skin when he bathes. He even could recognize a playful shove or pat on the shoulder or back.

The proud Mandalorian was now flat on his back, too tired to protest or fight back. He could only laugh. Grogu found a way to change directions so he moved the Force touch downward and Din squeaked, turning over onto his side, curling up.

“Stohohop! Kid, please! Hahahaha!” Din begged, the touch fluttering down his thighs to the backs of his knees. He was giggling now. Grogu was most definitely mocking him with his own giggles.

“I think that’s enough, Grogu,” Ahsoka finally stepped in. Who knows how long the kid would’ve continued if she didn’t stop him?

“Y-You’re just as bad as him,” Din coughed out, sitting up in the dirt.

Din would’ve loved to take off his helmet and breathe fresh air, to gulp it into his lungs, now sore from laughter. He felt another touch at his knee and he almost swatted it away before he realized it was Grogu’s hand. The kid had waddled his way over to him. Checking on him, it seemed, by the look on the kid’s face. Din picked him up and sat him in his lap.

“I’m okay, kid.”

Grogu tilted his head, reaching up to touch the helmet.

“I’m happy, too. You got what you wanted,” Din poked a finger into the kid’s belly and made him giggle, “How do you like it?” he chortled.

Grogu leaned into Mando after cooing a little to the pokes, shutting his eyes. Mission accomplished. His masked protector was happy and it was because of him. That felt good.

Din shifted so he was looking at Ahsoka. She was looking right back, a soft smile gracing her features. And he smiled. Definitely happy.

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darkstarofchaos · 2 years

Text

Okay, so I can understand Jro’s desire to stop cheese-grating relationships. But does anyone else feel like he chose the wrong one to stop on?

To clarify: his original plan for Rewind and Chromedome was that Chromedome was involved with Dominus Ambus’ disappearance, including the very direct action of wiping it from Rewind’s memory. And by original, I mean “a major plot point not only in MTMTE, but RID as well”.

Yeah, I’m talking about that scene. The one where Prowl tries to blackmail Chromedome and ol’ Domey decides the appropriate response is to hack him and erase the information. And that information - information Chromedome did not want Rewind to know - was the truth about Dominus’ disappearance.

Except Jro decided that was noncanon. Which means he created a gigantic plot hole in *both* comics.

Does it matter? After all, the reveal only had a little bit foreshadowing, and the event itself was far in the past. Just change the details and ignore that original groundwork and we’re good, right?

I mean. If you only care about the relationship, then sure, maybe that’s good enough. Personally, though, I think the change actually weakened Chromedome as a character. Let’s look at that hacking scene again. Prowl wants Chromedome to do a thing and Chromedome says no, he promised Rewind he’d stop doing the thing. So then Prowl’s like, yeah, that thing you don’t want your husband to know about? Sure would be a shame if he found out about that. And Chromedome gets mad, because he doesn’t want Rewind to know he was involved with the disappearance of the guy Rewind has been looking for since before they (officially) met. Because Rewind might just leave him for keeping a secret like that. But Chromedome is horrible at dealing with loss, so instead of risking his relationship, he makes sure Prowl can’t expose him. And that’s understandable. Incredibly selfish, because he just did what he said he promised not to do, but relatable insofar as he doesn’t want to ruin what he and Rewind have. Except that’s not what Prowl threatened to reveal, because Jro retconned that. If you can retcon something without something to replace it, anyway. So what else could Chromedome have been afraid of Rewind knowing? What else would drive him to break the promise he was just defending? What else would pose such a threat to their relationship? What did you do, Chromedome? What did you do?

There are two possible takeaways here: either Chromedome did something far worse than anything Rewind already knows about, or he’s just... a really short-tempered jerk who will lash out at any perceived threat to his relationship. Or, third possibility, he just hates Prowl enough that all he needed was a reason. Whatever the answer, it paints him in a much less sympathetic light. He’s either done horrible things beyond the countless memory modifications we know about, or he’s sitting on so much anger/hate that he’s willing to break into someone’s mind without much provocation. And either way, he broke his promise to stop breaking into people’s minds (and continues to do so throughout the comic. Glad your promise means so much to you, Chrome).

Like. It’s good for characters to have flaws, and Chromedome has plenty of them. But when you take away his motivation for his actions, that makes those actions... empty? A plot device with no in-world meaning, perhaps?

Also, his whole deal with erasing his memories of his previous husbands? Completely pointless. Good for character depth, but it leads to a straight-up plot contrivance when he decides not to erase Rewind (because Jro needed him to remember so he can get together with Alternate Rewind). I guess the idea is supposed to be that Rewind is different somehow, and Chromedome is willing to live with his memory when he wouldn’t keep the others. But if you just drop the memory erasing thing it becomes... not an issue?

Maybe it’s just me, but I feel like that husband-erasing thing would be way more important to his character if he had a pattern of refusing to deal with the past. A pattern like, say... not telling his husband the truth about their respective histories? A truth he erased from said husband’s mind? And from the mind of someone who threatened to reveal it? And yeah, technically that pattern is still there. But it doesn’t mean anything anymore, because whatever he erased wasn’t about Rewind anymore. The thread between the two moments was cut.

TL;DR: Jro chose the wrong relationship to spare, because that relationship was conceived on lies and secrets that were woven into MTMTE from the very start.

#Transformers IDW #Chromedome #I could keep going but this is getting long

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wisteriawatching · 2 years

Note

🐣🐨🦔🐢🐄🐸🐧🦭

DID YOU LIKE MY COUNTDOWN!? That was fun! I had fun. That was actually more fun than I thought it would be! There were too many good posts to name. It was very fun reading all your comments and theories. Though side note: animal anon has no problem with people joining her BUT it must be animals and it must not mess with my countdown. No statues! Animal anon does animals, not statues. Side side note: can someone settle the debate of if that emoji is a hedgehog or a porcupine? Because I have no idea. Side note side note side note: sorry if you got multiple asks in a day...my system isn't perfected yet so sometimes I send two (or three) because I forgot I sent one and didn't want to accidently miss anyone (also sorry if i did miss you, still perfecting the system, no one has been animal anon blacklisted, i promise!)

Anyway, GUESS WHAT TODAY IS!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉 It's been one year since I started animal anon! How exciting is that?! Phew, what a year we've had together! I mean what better way to start this second year than some chaos since that's how animal anon started to begin with! I will admit, it was slightly stressful coming up with something to meet the occasion of this event. I hope the countdown and this post live up to it. No, I'm not going to reveal myself just yet.. maybe that will be for year 2...😏😏. BUT I will give you some fun facts about me! So let's see; first, I'm from the Midwest (so not Canadian, but close so I do have a slight accent), but I currently live in the TriState area. Second, I am a MASSIVE theater nerd. No, seriously I have been to 21 shows since Broadway reopened in September and I'm actually going to my 22nd tonight. I don't know if this makes that fact better or worse, but I've really only been to about 12 different show because out of those 22, 10 of those are one specific show. Third, I am fluent in German and English. Though, I suck at writing in German, I never learned how to, so don't ask me to do that please. Fourth, my favorite color is red, so you can guess my favorite Taylor album (and coincidently also the show I've been to see 10 times on Broadway...). Fifth, I love to talk A LOT if you couldn't tell by the essays I send yall. And lastly, I can also confirm I am not Taylor...but I will say that I do share something very important with her... tell me your guesses down below as to what very important thing you think Taylor and I have in common, and I'll send some extra animals to whomever I see gets it right first!

So contuining on with my dissertation here, this week I have been trying to figure out a prompt to live up to this occasion. As I already mentioned, my system isn't perfect! And I've been thinking a lot about community lately and how that's been lacking for so many because of Covid. So what I want yall to do is if you get this dissertation of mine, please send a message, post, anon, whatever you want to at least 1 other blog (though you can do more), telling them something you like about them and giving them an animal emoji! That way we can keep spreading the love all day long to as many as possible! 🥰

As always, you are all brilliant, kind, worthy, beautiful and as this past week has shown, hilarious and unique human beings. No seriously, some of your posts had me kneeling over in laughter. If you would so like, you can tag #animalanon so I and everyone can read all your lovely posts! IM STARTING EARLY TODAY SO WE CAN PARTY ALL DAY LONG BECAUSE I LOVE YALL SO MUCH 🎊 🦥🦁🐯

Wow okay I have several thoughts which I shall liveblog:

I did not think I was relevant enough to recieve animal anon asks!

According to the unicode it is a hedgehog

This may be the longest ask I have ever received

Animal anon uses she/her pronouns... I am taking note

omg wow wait we're getting so much info here

I really want to know what show you saw ten times...

Wait omg you just alluded to it; I am doing such good active reading

Do you and Taylor share a birthday?

This is p cute and I do love how you've given people something to talk about!

I will send some kind animal anons when I'm off work later

Thank you for visiting me on this special day!

#animal anon

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votederpycausemufins · 3 years

Text

Here’s another chapter! Y’all are gonna hate the ending.

@petrichormeraki

Grian knocked on the closet door. “Hey Xannes, I know you’re in there.”

“I’m busy! Go away!” Evil Xisuma’s voice came from inside.

“If you don’t come out now, I can get rid of the door completely and let people see inside. NPG’s told me it’s private information, but I’m sure sharing would be fine.”

There was silence before Xannes spoke again. “I’ll be right out!” There was a bit of clattering and then the hels admin opened the door as little as he could while also being able to squeeze through it.

“Nice sweater.” Grian pointed at the bright pink and yellow sweater Xannes was wearing before he quickly pulled it off and balled it up before throwing it into the closet.

“What the fuck do you want?” Then he looked over at Tommy. “And why is he here?”

“We need to get back to Hermitcraft and that’s Tommy. He’s from our dimension, not this one. We already met Theseus.”

Xannes crossed his arms. “And what do I get out of it?”

“You could come visit Hermitcraft again?” Mumbo suggested, but the admin just shook his head. “I thought you wanted that.”

“Oh, of course I do, but you know how I’m always visiting with NPG? That’s because my brother won’t let me in without him. Since he’s busy with Theseus, I can’t go anywhere.”

“Hey, before we left visiting, he said something about messaging you. Any chance that could be about NPG?” Tommy piped up.

Xannes hummed in acknowledgement before pressing something on his helmet. “So he did. Something I’ll need to tell Prof about. He’s actually going to be away for a few days to visit family. Something about seeing distorted mirrors or whatever.” He pressed the button again. “Alright, call NPG here and we can go.”

“Do I really need to discuss this? I have gone over this with my one dad before and have recovered from the events connected to my brainwashing.” Grum tried reasoning with Puffy who was insisting he had a therapy session with her. “I think there are more important matters to discuss other than my mental health.”

“Your mental health is extremely important. Especially when you’re stuck in an unfamiliar place. And I’m not sure that having your dad as a therapist is the best practice.”

Grum frowned. “Technically a therapist should not have any relation with their patient outside of business work, usually up to three years I believe. But our admin is not fond of us leaving our world, so Daddy is the only option.”

“Well a second opinion would still be a good idea.” Puffy said, and Grum sighed before slumping in his seat. “I’m guessing that’s you reluctantly agreeing?”

“Yes, however I do have a condition.”

“What’s that?”

Grum gave a slight smirk. “That’s to have a significant influence on or determine the manner or outcome of something. But that’s not important right now. My condition is That between your questions for me, you allow me to ask my own questions.”

“Alright, but I may not answer everything you ask. Somethings may be a bit hard to hear or take too much explaining.”

“That is better than nothing.”

“Alright, so your brother mentioned you were brainwashed. How did that happen?”

“On our server, a system was started to buy plots of land on which to build shops, a ten by ten meter area being sold for one diamond block. It was started as a joke, but everyone went along with it. Soon there was a large diamond pile sitting in the middle of the shopping district. Dad thought someone needed to be in charge of it and created a town hall to place the blocks in and then created an election for mayor, nominating Daddy as a candidate. There were five total candidates, but by election, one had dropped out. One of the candidates was someone named Stress.

“She joined the election with Iskall as her running mate with a slogan and choice of colors. Meanwhile I was created to help my dads win. Just before the official election, Iskall appeared at my platform to get ideas from me. I refused to help anyone other than my dads, so he broke in and rewired me. Dad tried to help fix me when he found out what happened, but he does not know redstone well and only slightly fixed it. Daddy then came over and fixed me, but at that point, the stress of what happened and the fact that it was election day and it didn’t seem like my dads were winning ended with me breaking down.”

“That does sound like a lot to happen to someone so young. Even if as a robot you have the mental capacity of someone older, from what you’ve told me, you aren’t even a year old yet.”

“Correct.”

“Now, you said certain slogan and certain colors. What-”

“No. It is my turn for a question. Do you know someone by the name of Tommy Innit?”

“Uh, yes I do.” Puffy replied, waiting for Grum to ask more, but he simply nodded. “Are you going to ask more?”

“No. I have asked my question and now it is your turn.”

“Right. What were those colors and slogan?”

“I do not want to repeat the slogan. However, Stress was fond of alliums and used their dye.”

“Well then, that seems like something we should cover. The slogan likely may be a trigger to you.”

“Yes. How do you know Tommy?”

“I’ve… met him and his family before.”

Grum narrowed his eyes. “Is that all you are willing to say?”

“It’s my turn for a question.” Puffy responded, and Grum had to concede to his own rules. “How are you around Stress and Iskall?”

“Fine. They are my aunt and auncle now. Stress may have been running, but Iskall was acting on his own. At the time they were unaware how sentient of a being I was and is greatly apologetic for what they have done. They are very close with my dads and usually messed with things they ade, so at the time it seemed no different to him. Is Tommy from this server.”

“From this server? No, I believe he’s from SMP Earth.”

Grum had to keep himself from cursing. Now he was sure she was dodging his questions.

“Have you ever had negative experiences around Stress and Iskall after the initial incident?”

“Yes, the most prominent was when I first saw Iskall after getting my new body. After that was when I found a campaign sign that had not been taken down.” Grum paused before asking his question, having an idea. “If I asked you to give me a diamond and ask me a certain question with the guarantee that afterwards I would let you ask all your own questions and none more from me, would you do it?”

“I… suppose I could. I would have to find a dia-” Grum pulled one of on his inventory, always keeping a few on him for Jrum. “I guess that will work, what’s the question?”

“Ask me ‘Who is Tommy Innit?’”

This time Puffy looked unsure, but reluctantly she handed Grum the diamond back and asked the question. The diamond disappeared as it started up Grum’s system. He was primed, he bootloaded his brain, he flooded the mayoral reservoirs and then, he found the answer.

“Tommy Innit is the youngest son of Philza Minecraft, former ruler of the Antarctic Empire. He has three brothers. After the decline of the Antarctic Empire, Tommy was allowed to join the ↸∷ᒷᔑᒲ ᓭᒲ!¡ ᔑリ↸ ∴ᒷリℸ ̣ 𝙹リ ℸ ̣ 𝙹- ℸ ̣ 𝙹- ℸ ̣ 𝙹- ℸ ̣ 𝙹- ℸ ̣ 𝙹- Gᒷt ⊣o∷gᒷo⚍s.”

Grum was holding his head. Something was wrong. It.. purple. Why was it purple? He couldn’t think right. Why? Why again? Was it because they were talking about it all and he tried to access the mayoral reservoirs? “⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. !¡∷𝙹ᓵᒷᓭᓭ𝙹∷ ⎓ᔑ╎ꖎ╎リ⊣. ∷ᒷ!¡ᔑ╎∷ᓭ リᒷᒷ↸ᒷ↸. ꖎ𝙹ᓵᔑℸ ̣ ᒷ ᔑ↸ᒲ╎リ╎ᓭℸ ̣ ∷ᔑℸ ̣ 𝙹∷. ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. ⍑ᒷꖎ!¡. ⍑-⍑ e l p m e. D a d s h e l p m e!”

“Du du du, du du durudu, du du du duuu! D-d-dance Grian! Du du du, du du durudu, guinea pig dance! D-d-dance Grian!” Jrumbot was singing while in the nether, mining up some quartz, both for redstone as well as for snacks. “Du du du, du du durudu, du du du duuu! D-d-dance Grian! Du du du, du du durudu, guinea pig dance! Dance dance dance dance da-da-dan guinea pig, guinea pig, guinea pig, guinea pig. Dance dance dance dance dancedance, guinea pig dance!”

He heard the sound of a piglin and immediately stopped to make sure his gold booties were on, glad to see they were, then he realized that it wasn’t actually a piglin, but a zombie piglin, and a young one at that. Then, he realized it wasn’t just a normal sound. The noises were in the same tune as the song he had just been singing. “Hello? Is someone there?”

The noises stopped and jrum would furrow his brow if he had one. Then he got an idea. “Well! I guess I was just hearing things!” He said a little louder than needed before going back to the song. This time he paid attention as the humming of a baby ziglin started up again and Jrum started walking towards it, lowering his voice volume so whoever it was couldn’t tell he was coming closer.

Finally Grum found a hole and peaked inside, scaring the young Ziglin. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you! I just heard you humming along to me!” They were quiet, but Jrum did get a wave from the mob. “My name is Jrum! What’s yours?”

The Ziglin snorted and Jrum smiled. “Oh! Michael is a very nice name! What are you doing in a hole?” Another few snorts. “Huh, I guess that makes sense. My dads kept my brother in a box until it was okay to move him so he could get a body like the one I’m in! I got mine at the same time too by the way.”

Jrum chatted with Michael for a bit before something was said that made the ziglin sad. “Aww, what’s wrong?” Jrum asked, listening to the snorts in response. “Aww, well I hope Boo can find Bee. I got lost once and my dads found me, so I’m sure that your parents can find each other too!” A single happy snort. “Yes, Boo! He can do it. Wait behind me?”

Michael had shaken his head and pointed behind Jrum. When the robot turned around, he had to crane his head up at the figure that towered above him. They were half black and half white with the purple eyes of an enderman, streaks going down on the white side of their face from the eye. Jrum thought he also saw some mirrored on the black side, but it was hard to tell.”

“Who are you and why are you with Michael?”

“Um, I’m Jrum and I was mining in here while singing and then Michael sang along and now we’re friends.”

“I see. And what were you mining for?”

“Quartz! I’m a robot and so is my brother and we eat quartz instead of normal food, plus I need it for some redstone things.”

“I see. And are you-”

“Am I what?” Jrum asked when the person stopped talking, their eyes fading from purple and into green and red.

“Oh! Hello! Who are you?”

“Um… Jrum?” Jrum was confused by a number of things. The person’s changing eye colors, the repeated question, the tone of their voice changing from serious to chipper and finally the change to the common language. “You asked that already.”

“I did?” He asked, and then pulled out a book. “I don’t have anything written down about meeting someone like you.”

“Well we just met a minute ago. You asked what I was doing with Michael.”

“Oh, did you make a friend Michael?” The young ziglin nodded and then the person started writing in his book.

“Um, so what’s your name?”

“Oh! I’m Ranboo.”

Jrum smiled a little at the name. “Oh! Michael said his parents were Bee ‘n Boo, so you must be Boo!”

“That’s right. You’re able to understand him?”

“Yep!” Jrum nodded. “When I go to visit my sort of big brother he lets me visit Prof and Prof likes to give me presents like a language translator! My brother has one too!”

“What’s your brother’s name?”

“He’s Grum. We sort of got stuck in this world for a bit but we’re gonna try and find a way back and even if we can’t I’m sure our dads can find us!” Ranboo nodded and wrote down more in his book, making Jrum speak up again. “What’s that?”

“Oh, um… It’s my memory book. I’m not… entirely the best at remembering, so I write stuff down.”

“Oh! That’s cool!” Jrum smiled. “Well, I’m gonna go back to mining! Bye Michael! Bye Dad Boo!” And Jrum skipped away, humming a new song that mentioned being AFK.

“Mumbo! Mumbo Mumbo Mumbo Mumbo!” Grian started shouting, trying to get the redstoner’s attention.

“What’s wrong?”

“Look!” And Grian shoved his communicator in Mumbo’s face. “They’re alive! Or at least… they’re not completely gone!”

Tommy and Phil also came over to see what was going on as Mumbo read messages on Grian’s comm. “They both ran out of battery.”

“Yes! I mean, it’s not good because I doubt they have a way to charge again, which is not a good sign, but it means that they’re not gone forever!”

“Wait, how do you know that?” Phil asked and Grian showed him the phone.

“We set something up a while ago so we get notifications for them when something happens like they run out of battery or get badly damaged. Looking at the timestamps, these were sent while we were in Helscraft, but we didn’t get the notifications until coming back to this dimension.”

“Is there any way to track the signal?” Tubbo asked, making Grian light up.

“Maybe! It would take a lot of time though, so it might be good to have someone here work on that while we check the-” Grian stopped, his comm buzzing. “What?”

Tommy leaned in to read the new messages.

[Bot Status] Grum has run into a processing error

[Bot Status] Grum has run into a database error

[Bot Status] Grum has run into a mental error

[Bot Status] Grum has shut down due to extreme stress

[Bot Status] Jrum has encountered a virus

[Bot Status] Virus has been dealt with

[Bot Status] : )

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