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niqhtlord01 · 1 year

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Humans are weird: ET stay home (Human Perspective)

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps) (For those who may be confused, this is the telling of the same story from Humans are weird: ET Stay Home, but this one tells it from the human side of it. For the alien perspective please read the previous entry :) )

Broadcaster: This is Nine News Now and I’m your host Gabriel Thompson.

GT: Our top story tonight, local outback hunter Hudson White has come forward with claims that they have been abducted by aliens and taken off world for experimentation.

GT: We have Mr. White here tonight to tell us his side of the story on this interstellar encounter.

*Camera pans left to see Hudson sitting opposite Gabriel*

GT: Thank you for joining us tonight.

HW: My pleasure.

GT: Mr. White I’m going to cut right to the chase and ask you what many of our viewers are already thinking.

GT: Is your story just another crackpot tale?

HW: Listen darling; if I’d been in their shoes right now I’d be saying the exact same thing.

HW: But the real crazy thing here is that it did happen and it happened to me; and I’ve got the story and proof to prove it.

GT: Now before we go into your story, it was reported that local farmers found you out in the wilds of the outback after a severe sandstorm swept through the county.

GT: You were admitted to a local hospital were the doctors diagnosed you with critical dehydration and malnutrition.

HW: That’s right, I was up on their ship in space for what felt like days and I wasn’t about to start putting any of their alien bits inside my body.

GT: Is it not possible that you just became lost in the sandstorm and the experiences you claim to have gone through were nothing more than hallucinations?

HW: I spent me whole life out there in the outback.

HW: I get paid to hunt down wild packs of animals attacking farms, spending weeks at a time with nothing but a flask of whiskey and stale bread.

HW: You’ve got an iron pair accusing me of going wobbly over a little sandstorm.

GT: Why don’t you tell us your story then; start from the beginning.

HW: I was hired by the Befred Farm to track down a pack of dingoes that’d been attacking them every night for about three weeks.

HW: These critters would come in the dead of night and kill a sheep or cattle before buggering out.

HW: When I got to the farm I got lucky since the tracks from the last attack were still there. So I started following them back to their den where I hoped to catch them off guard.

HW: I got a few miles out when the weather shifted and a massive sandstorm started blowing in. Could barely see a few feet in front of me and before I knew it the tracks were gone. So I started heading back to the farm and try to catch the dingoes at night.

GT: And this is when you encountered the aliens?

HW: You better believe it.

HW: I’d made it half way back to the farm when it happened. The sandstorm was roaring all around me and even with me goggles on I couldn’t see far ahead of me. Then they came out of the storm like a god damn horror movie.

GT: Can you describe then?

HW: Not entirely.

HW: There were about four of them, each wearing a suit like you see astronauts wear with those big shiny head bits that blocked the sun.

HW: They were skinny things though. I mistook the buggers for some dried up trees at first until the front one started shooting at me.

GT: The aliens attacked you? Did you do anything to provoke them?

HW: Crikey, no!

HW: We just bumped into each other in the storm like blokes at a bus stop and the next thing I know they’re shooting at me.

GT: Were you hit?

HW: Nah; the one in the front must’ve been an ankle biter since he couldn’t hit the side of a mountain.

GT: What did you do in response?

HW: I swung up my elephant gun and shot them back.

GT: You what?!

HW: We just met and they’re already blasting? I took offense to that; but they were probably surprised so I just clipped them in the arm.

HW: Wasn’t fast enough on reload though and the bloke behind that front one pulled out another tinker and got me good in the chest.

GT: If you were shot in the chest how are you alive?

HW: No idea.

HW: I got hit and it felt like my soul was leaving my body, but the next thing I know I’m waking up in their ship with one of them leaning over me like they’re about to cut me up.

GT: Sounds like it was a stunner of some kind.

HW: A what?

GT: Something that knocks you out but doesn’t kill you, like in Star Trek.

HW: Ah, that sounds about right.

HW: Loved that as a kid; them sheila’s looked good in red.

GT: So these aliens stunned you and took you onboard their ship. What happened then?

HW: This tiny ship I was on hooked up with their big ship in space and they were in the middle of moving me to it when I broke free.

GT: These aliens didn’t take away your weapon?

HW: Oh they got me gun, but they missed the knife I keep under my shirt. Soon as one of them leaned over me I pulled it out, cut them good, and freed myself from that table they had me on.

GT: It’s amazing you could think so clearly under pressure; I for one would have been terrified.

HW: Once you spend enough time in the outback everything else feels like you’re playing on easy mode.

GT: So you freed yourself but were still trapped in space.

HW: It was a chaotic mess after I got up.

HW: Those alien gits started firing like they were hopped up on poprocks. I was dodging and rolling around like it was tax season avoiding them till I grabbed one and used them as a shield.

HW: I was about to demand they take me back when this door behind me opened up and there’s a whole bunch of more gits waiting to rush in and grab me. So I threw my hostage at them and stabbed one of them in the head when he tried to bash my head in.

GT: You killed them?

HW: Maybe. For all I know the blokes don’t die from being stabbed, but they didn’t get back up and I didn’t wait to find out. I left my knife and started running as fast as I can in the opposite direction.

HW: Anyway, these alarms starting going off and things are flashing blue. These doors start closing all around me as and I’m hearing this loud ringing of boots behind me so I figure I’m being hemmed in on all sides.

HW: Finally I hit this dead end with no escape until I look up and see a vent of some kind.

GT: What made you think it was a vent? This is an alien ship after all.

HW: I saw Die hard enough times to know a vent.

HW: So I took a gamble and jumped at the thing reaching for it with my right hand and the vent swings open.

HW: The guards are almost right on top of me so I used all my strength and jumped a second time and my hands grab the edges of it. I barely had enough time to pull myself in and pull the vent closed behind me again.

HW: Next thing I see is this group of aliens all armed to the teeth come pouring into the hallway and start standing around dumbfounded.

GT: You’re telling me they didn’t check the vents?

GT: I would think that would be the first place they would look.

HW: I know, right?

HW: I was sitting there in that tiny vent quiet as a murid looking down at these things as they start panicking and shouting into metal boxes of some kind. They looked like communicators if I had to guess.

HW: About ten minutes passed before they started filing out again back the way they came and I breathed a sigh of relief.

GT: A thrilling escape.

GT: What happened next?

HW: I made my way through the vent system for as far as I could. It was a maze of metal tight spaces and I’m pretty sure I got lost several times before I ended up on the bridge of the ship.

GT: How did you know it was the bridge?

HW: They had this huge window overlooking the planet with a bunch of alien’s running back and forth between these computer things. One of them was sitting directly beneath me and I wagered they were the captain since every one of those aliens would speak with them first before doing anything.

GT: That brings up a good question; what did their language sound like?

HW: You ever drag your fingers across a chalk board as a kid?

GT: I did.

HW: Imagine that and you’re not far off.

HW: The captain must have heard me because no sooner had I got there did they turn around and look up at the vent I was in.

HW: Before they could sound the alarm I kicked open the vent and jumped down to the bridge. The aliens started screaming and running around like ants, so I grabbed the captain and took him hostage.

GT: I see you have a habit of taking hostages, should I be concerned?

HW: Are you an alien that has abducted me?

GT: No.

HW: Then you’re fine.

HW: To sum up what happened next I essentially traded the captain for a ride back to the planet which they gave me; but the damn blokes left me in the middle of the outback again and I had to trudge my way back to the nearest town and I passed out along the way.

GT: Fascinating story.

GT: It’s a shame you don’t have any proof to back up said claim though.

HW: Who said I didn’t?

GT: Are you going to show us a blurry photo you took or a hunk of metal you claim was from there ship.

HW: *Slams alien pistol on table*

GT: * Looks confused*

GT: What is that?

HW: That’s the alien pistol they shot me with. I stole one off the captain on my way back to earth.

GT: How did you get a weapon in here? *Looks off screen at security*

HW: They thought it was a toy so they let me keep it.

GT: Are…are you going to shoot me to prove it’s real?

HW: I had considered it with your attitude.

GT: *Looking increasingly nervous but continues smiling*

GT: I don’t think our listeners would-

HW: But then I decided it would be easier if I just shot myself since I’m not a dick like you.

GT: Wh-

HW: *Picks up alien pistol and shoots himself sending him flying across the room and off screen*

GT: HOLY SH-

*Signal cuts out*

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #space australia #story #writing #scifi #original writing #niqhtlord01

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blackbat05 · 2 years

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A beardful

Rick Flag x Reader

A/N: Wow… once I’m fixated… I’m fixated…

Genre: PG-13, master of fluff (I like to think)

Notes: A short piece in which Dad Rick attempts to get closer to the newest addition of the family - even if it means shaving his beloved beard…

“Hey darlin?”

You poke your head out of the kitchen to see your husband frowning at the mirror.

“What’s up?”

“Should I shave?”

You raised your brows at the unexpected question. “Well, where did that come from?”

Rick turns to you. “Robin isn’t letting me give him kisses or come near him for that matter,” he glumly tells you about his failed misadventures with the family’s newest addition. “I think it’s the beard.”

You take a look at your husband. Honestly, you didn’t mind the lumberjack look he had. In fact, you adored the slightly grizzly man in front of you.

“Give it time honey, maybe Robin hasn’t got used to that feeling. Besides, I think you look hot.” You purred, walking closer to him.

“You sure have a way with words.”

“You know I’m right.”

Rick sighs. “But either way, I’m going to make sure Robin gives me that kiss before he’s completely under DuBois charms.”

You couldn’t imagine the former marksman once notorious for his brutality trying to compete with your husband to get your newborn’s attention. Now that was something you needed to see.

***

As you chopped the vegetables in the kitchen, you made cooing noises at the baby who was inside the playpen at the living room. Robin giggles, before rolling around with his stuffed hamster plushie that Cleo had gifted.

The door opens, and you prepare for the onslaught of what were to be your twins, husband and Robert.

“Mama! Mama!” Your twins yell in unison. Like the little cannonballs they are, they almost ran face first into you.

“Woah! What’s the rush there Lightning McQueens?” You set your knife aside to see the identical gleeful looks on their faces.

“Papa shaved! It’s so smooth now! Like the ice rink you took us to last winter!” Freya, the more descriptive of the two starts to pull you by your apron.

True enough, behold a cleanly shaven Rick Flag grinning at you.

“Well look at you! You clean up nicely.”

Robert sets the shopping bags on the table. “Let’s just hope little bugger recognizes his old man here.” You let out snort as you removed your apron.

“Let’s put that to the test shall we?”

As the two men busied themselves in the kitchen, you went back into the living room to retrieve Baby Robin who was babbling at you happily.

“Come on big boy,” you stretched into the playpen to scope him out. “Papa’s back home.”

At the mention of Papa, Robin’s eyes lit up. The little boy clapped his chubby hands happily, squirming around in your arms.

“Where’s my little Prince?” Rick’s southern drawl came behind the fridge as you walked into the kitchen to sit Robin on his high chair. Robert waits beside you with bated breath of this unpredictable outcome.

Robin gurgles, hands waving around as if to signal his father of his presence. Rick finally closes the fridge door and the two make eye contact.

“Hey buddy!”

Robin blinks, and starts looking around causing Rick to be confused.

“Whatcha looking for bud? Papa’s over here.”

But Robin sees you and reaches out with grabby hands. You decided to try a new approach. Lifting his chubby body out of the seat, you walk over to Rick.

“Papa’s here Robin!”

It’s hilarious really, from Robert’s point of view as he sees the poor little chap not recognizing his cleanly shaven father. Lips wobbling at the thought of being whisked away by a stranger, your baby boy starts to burst into sobs.

You rock him back and forth, hushing him with soothing noises.

“That’s not a scary man, that’s your Papa!”

Robin doesn’t seem to be able to process this as his cries bounces off the walls.

“Alright there chap! Come on lemme hold you for a second.” Robert takes his godson from your arms, turning Robin’s body to face him while the two of you stood by.

When Robin realized that he was being held by his favorite uncle, the cries had slowly subsided.

“Well would you look at that!” Robert guffaws. “Knew you were something ya little bugger!”

Robin reaches out a hand to feel Robert’s beard, breaking out into giggles. You figured your husband would need much comforting after seeing the sight in front of him.

“My old friend. I knew it when he saved me back then in the battle of Qurac.” He tells you glumly. “I knew that god would make me pay Robert back one day. I never knew it would be this cruel.” Rick shuffles over to you with puppy dog eyes before burying himself in your shoulder.

“Aw… come on, it’s not that bad.” You and Robert make eye contact and you try your hardest not to laugh. “Give it a little time.”

You wished you had said that a little earlier for Robin gives a huge smooch at Robert’s request. Rick gives you a dead stare, daring you to refute him.

“Okay… maybe I stand corrected.” And the two of you break into laughter in front of a very dismayed husband and a confused baby.

#rick flag #rick flag x reader fluff #rick flag x reader #rick flag fluff #dad rick flag x reader #dad rick flag x reader fluff #colonel rick flag #colonel flag #joel kinnaman #the suicide squad

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 years

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That Thing in The Closet

Summary: RoRo and KitCat hear a monster in their closet. Andy Barber x Black!Reader, KitCat Barber, RoRo Barber

Warnings: Fluff, Protective Katrina, Monsters, Scared Barber Girls, Andy Fighting Monsters, Monster Spray, The Need for a Plumber, Minors DNI

A/N: Hope you enjoy. All mistakes my own.

___

Aurora climbs into bed with Katrina, her little body trembling. “Sissy.” She shakes her. “KitCat! Wake up!”

“Ehh?” The five-year-old cracks open an eye.

“Der’s monster in dah closet.” She tells her big sister. “Heard it!”

“What?” A worried KitCat sits up, looking around the room. “RoRo, I think we is okay. I don’ see nuffin’.”

And then she hears the bang coming from their shared closet.

“Oh no!” She whimpers, clutching her baby sister to her tiny chest. “Is’ okay. I got you.”

The sound of another bang makes them both jump.

“I got you, RoRo, okay? Not gonna let nuffin’ happen tah you.” She sniffles. “Gonna call for Mama and Daddy. Dey get dah monster.”

Her baby sister nods, her little eyes flush with tears.

“We just gotta get outta bed real slow. Real slow. You stay in fron’ ah me. I keep safe. Once get tah door, we run. Okay.”

RoRo nods.

“Das’ dah plan. I get out first.” Another bang. “I got you.” They both tiptoe towards the door. “Okay, now run!”

Holding hands, they both take off towards Mama and Daddy’s room, screeching the whole way. By the time they both make it to their destination, both of their parents are already away and out of bed. Katrina throws herself into her Daddy’s arms, while Aurora does the same with Mama.

“Girls - girls. Calm down.” Andy murmurs as he pats his little girl’s back. “Tell us what’s going on?”

“Monstah in closy.” His two-year-old tells him. “Hear it. Woke sissy. She hear too.”

“I did, Daddy.” KitCat whispers. “I heard. Is in der. Pwease get it out!”

“Okay, okay.” You murmur, kissing them both on the top of their heads. “It’s alright, my babies. Daddy and I will take care of this.” Wrapping them both in your arms, you stand up, letting them settle on your hips as your husband goes to retrieve the “Monster Spray”. In truth, it was really just a bottle of hairspray with a label on it, but they didn’t need to know that.

“Ready, Daddy.”

“Yep.” He grunts, as he rolls his shoulders and cracks his knuckles. “Can’t believe a monster tried to go after my girls. Absolutely not. I won’t stand for it!” He playful snarls as he leads you all down the hall.

Upon reaching their room, you watch as Andy shakes up the “Monster Spray” canister.

“Alright, ladies.” He takes a dramatic deep breath. “Daddy’s going in there.”

“Oh Dada, no!” RoRo cries.

“S’okay, sissy. BiBi say Daddy is dah best monster fighter der is.” She assures her tearful sister.

“Now, it might get rough. But Daddy’s got this. He’s gonna beat up these monsters and make them regret ever scaring my babies.” Your husband looks down at them and ruffles their curls and then offers you three a fist bump, which you three return.

“I got this.” He growls as he walks inside, slams and locks the door.

It’s not long before you hear something.

“Alright, you monsters! I don’t know who you think you are scaring my girls like that, but I’ve got something for you - oh! There’s two of you, huh?! Well, how would you like a face full of “Monster Spray?” Ope, yeah. Bet that hurt!”

God, your lovely man was so theatrical sometimes.

“Oh, you wanna fight? Well, let’s go, Grumpus!” You hear a loud thump, followed by a couple of quieter ones. “”Your turn, Beetle Bugger! As my wife would say, come catch these hands!”

You smother a giggle.

“Dada so brave.” RoRo whispers into your leg.

“Yeah.” KitCat responds as she holds onto your nightgown. “He really fightin’ dah monsters like dat!”

“Oh, you two want some more? Pow!” You hear your husband hiss. “That’s right, run away. And don’t you ever come back. Because if you do, I’m gonna call their mother in here, and if you think I’m bad…woo! You have no idea. Yeah! Run!”

Eventually Andy opens the door, his hair even more mussed than when he went in. He dramatically leans himself against the door.

“Daddy sent them away, ladies.” He kisses his fist as a completely heartwarming and also unnecessary show of strength. “If you hear any more banging, it’s because they’re running away and warning other monsters too. Okay?”

Your little girls both nod.

You both help them back into bed before kissing their foreheads. And then you watch as Andy sprays some more of that anti-monster spray in front of the closet door.

“Goodnight, my loves.” Andy whispers, blowing them both a kiss. They curl up in bed together and wave.

___

You look up at Andy. Your hand is rubbing his back, while he rubs yours.

“Thank you.” You murmur.

“You’re welcome. It’s the pipes making the noise. I’ll call someone tomorrow.”

“I love you.”

“Love you more.” He grunts.

END

#chris evans imagines #andy barber imagines #chris evans #andy barber #chris evans woc!reader #chris evans black!reader #cevansbrat0007 fics #andy barber x black reader #andy barber x woc!reader #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber x you #katrina barber #aurora barber

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jiminsbabexxx · 10 months

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The Worlds Most Scuffed Road Trip

You were hanging out with Matt and Swagger as they went to buy their car for the road trip. “Hell yeah.” Swagger said in the passenger seat, you in the back with Mitchell. “Why do I feel like I’m going to die in this car?” You said everyone laughing. “I bet Tobi and Fitz didn’t get fucking chips with their car.” Swagger said. “You’re eating a strangers chips?” You asked, everyone laughing. “Yeah.” Swagger said. “She’s so slow.” Matt said. “Fucking floor it Matt, Floor it!” You yelled. “I am flooring it.” Matt said.

“So this is the car, back in the shop. Tobi and I are here to decorate it, I have a feeling that team USA went a little a little more offensive then we might be.” Fitz said. “Oh yeah definitely.” You said laughing. “This is F to the C Fitz and were about to pimp this ride.” Tobi said, you laughing. “I just feel like I’m violating this car.” Fitz said. “You violate me a lot.” You said, Tobi laughing. “Woah!” Fitz said. “If anyone asks were kindergarten teachers and the kids painted it.” Tobi said. “Oh yeah that’s believable.” You said. “Oh Gamer Supps, USE CODE MISFITS FOR 10% OFF!” You yelled at the camera, Fitz and Tobi laughing. “I think it’s good.” Tobi said. “I actually really like it.” You said.

“This is going to be so chaotic.” You said, Matt driving in. “Dude limited edition.” Matt said. “Dude you fucked this car up.” Swagger said. “Sup bitch.” Swagger said, you laughing. “Y/N come see this!” Matt yelled, you walking to the car. “C H E A no you did not.” You said laughing, seeing the word C H E A T E R keyed into the car. “So much better it’s like there’s lore now.” Swagger said. “I don’t think Tasmania’s ready for this.” Swagger said. “I’m not even ready for this.” You said.

“You look like you get bitches.” You said, Matt and Swagger walking up to everyone. “Mic spam.” Mason said, blowing into the walkie. “Oh god Mason!” You said. “On pursuit!” Mason said, chasing after birds. “Mason!” You yelled, Mason throwing his beer at the birds. “Tobi I just threw a bottle at a seagull and nearly hurt it.” Mason said into the walkie. “You silly bugger.” Tobi said. “Look at Fitz’s big ass pushing the car.” You said. “Its a beast.” Fitz said. “You’re a beast.” You said, Fitz turning to look at you. “Only in the bedroom.” Fitz said. “Look were pissing people off.” You said, after Mason pushing the train horn and people running by flipping everyone off. “What’s he saying?” Fitz asked, as Matt talked about car guy things. “I have no fucking idea.” You whispered back. “A PINK FUCKING LIMO!” You yelled. “Y/N is excited.” Fitz said. “This is the one I’m riding in.” You said. “Even Fitz fits!” You said, Fitz grabbing you and sitting you on his lap. “When she touches you.” Mason said. “You vibrate like that?” Fitz asked. “You do Fitz.” You said, the boys laughing.

“Update Y/N.” Mitchell asked. “Well Fitz is not happy because the fucking car won’t start.” You said. “So where are we riding?” You asked. “Were going with Swagger and Matt.” Fitz said. “I’ll go with you.” You said. “Welcome to our MTV Cribs where we pass out the whole fucking time.” Mason said. “Wait where the fuck am I sleeping?” You asked. “With me.” Fitz said. “You’re big ass and me on that little bed?” You asked. “We’ll make it work.” Fitz said. “What do all the cool youtubers say, see you on the tripod?” Mason asked. “Who the fuck says that?” Swagger asked. “That was a good one Maso.” You said. “What the fuck is that, I got tobacco all in my toothpaste cunt?” Mason asked. “Ew Mason what the fuck?” You asked. “Got severally drunk for the last 5 hours.” Fitz said. “Y/N, thoughts?” Mitchell asked. “Hungover, don’t talk to me.” You said. “Hungover?” Mitchell asked. “I tried to keep up with Fitz, bad idea.” You said, Fitz laughing. “Filming us?” Mason asked. “Smile, look happy.” You said. “How was the ride?” Mitchell asked. “I fell asleep, on Fitz.” You said. “She did.” Fitz said. “Ay good job Maso!” You yelled, after Mason did a backflip. “Fitz that’s a bad idea, bad idea Fitz.” You said, Fitz getting on top of Swagger and Matt’s car. “Don’t kill him Matt!” You yelled, them driving off. “He went pretty, pretty quick.” Tobi said. “Marble benchtop.” Tobi said. “Oh good, I can fuck Y/N on it later.” Fitz said, everyone laughing. “Are we doing a photo?” Fitz asked, you holding the camera on Mason. “Dude you fucked my shot!” Mason yelled Fitz kissing Mason on the cheek, you laughing. “Perfect.” You said, smiling. “What the fuck?” Fitz asked. “Don’t you’ll hit Swagger, Swagger!” You yelled, Mason chucking the rock at the lighthouse. “Fitz!” You yelled, Fitz standing on some large rocks near the water. “How is Fitz gonna get back?” Mason asked. “Good question Maso.” You said, your anxiety high. “Mason were trying to talk about Sunny and you’re talking about a happy rock.” Fitz said, Swagger kicking the rock away. “That is very Mason energy.” You said laughing. “Pink limos kinda sick but Sunnys better.” Tobi said, you gasping. “What you like the limo over Sunny?” Fitz asked looking at you. “Well, there was no room for me in Sunny anyway.” You said. “Eh it’s fine you could’ve sat on my lap.” Fitz said, you smiling. “Were going camping.” Fitz said, reading off his phone you groaning. “Well everyone seems to be excited.” Fitz said. “And now we feed the seagulls.” Mason said chucking his popsicle at the seagulls, you laughing. “Beer?” Mason asked, rolling out of the limo. “I wish I had a beer for you Maso.” You said, Mason groaning.

“Yeah do it on the sunny part.” Matt said, Mason laying on top of the Limo. “Great Maso.” You said, taking a picture of him. “This is really relaxing.” You said, Fitz playing his guitar. “9:20 in the morning and I’m drinking beer.” Mason said. “9:20 in the fucking morning and you’re drinking beer.” Fitz said, guitar in his lap. “I gotta learn how to drive.” Swagger said, you sitting on his lap. “Spaceships or cars?” Mason asked, Swagger smiling. “Were gonna be banned from here.” You said, Tobi playing with the train horn. “Do you hear them talking, you said you saw a pink limo?” Matt asked, you laughing. “Look we can get a couples one.” Matt said. “Yeah Matt cause I really want to cuddle with you.” You said, Swagger laughing. “Fitz I don’t know if this.” Tobi said, Fitz climbing up on the display. “Fitz babe that is not going to hold you.” You said, Fitz sitting on one of the chairs. “Now this fleshlight is optimal for small penises.” Tobi said. “Not sure my cock will fit.” Fitz said. “Oh that’s perfect for me.” Fitz said, Tobi holding up a larger one. “Look Y/N is blushing, is it really that big?” Mitchell asked, you laughing and nodding. “The clients in the back are furious.” Tobi said, you and Mason looking annoyed. “Found some cunt on the side of the street.” Mason said, Koby J walking up. “Koby J!” You yelled. “Hey Y/N.” Koby said. “Yay!” Swagger yelled, the car starting up. “Now can we please fucking leave?” You asked. “Alright I’m riding with Swagger and Matt!” You yelled. “Wait, kiss!” Fitz yelled, you and him kissing. “Gross.” Chad said, you and Fitz laughing. “Wake up the car stopped working again.” Fitz said, waking up Chad. “Fitz don’t do that, you mean ass.” You said, Chad groaning. “Who would’ve thought that a 40 year old limo would be so shit?” Fitz asked. “It’s cause you’re in it.” You said, Fitz looking fake shocked. “That’s fucked up.” Fitz said, you laughing. “Wow look at that view.” You said. “I know it’s beautiful, ain’t it?” Mitchell asked. “I was talking about Fitz and Swagger.” You said, Mitchell laughing. “What’s up Y/N?” Michell asked, you just chilling. “Nothing much, I don’t have to do anything the boys got it covered.” You said laughing. “Y/N wanna try out the hammock?” Swagger asked, you walking over to Swagger and Matt. “Absolutely fuck not.” You said, Matt and Swagger laughing. “Us having sex was my top priority.” Fitz said, you and Tobi laughing. “What the fuck, you have RGB in your tent?” Sam asked, Matt laughing. “Dude this is fucking sick, I’m staying in here tonight.” You said. “Cam, are you pissin?!” You yelled, Fitz turning around and flipping you and Sam off. “Matt, that is a really bad idea.” You said, Matt putting his head almost in the fire. “Do not fall back!” Swagger said, Matt sitting back in his seat. “We couldn’t of gotten through the day without Gamer Supps, right guys?” Fitz asked, everyone groaning. “Fitz.” You groaned out, Fitz laughing. “Eric what are you putting in this shit?” Chad asked. “I will kill one person on this trip.” Chad said. “Same.” You said, sitting on Fitz’s lap. “You hear how quiet it got after you said that, and Y/N don’t egg him on?” Fitz asked, you laughing. “Oi Cammy make me a smore.” You said. “Anything for you bug.” Fitz said. “Camp fire in the middle of the fucking camp.” Chad said. “Fucking mint.” You finished. “What’s fucking mint guys?” Fitz asked. “You’ve never seen those Tik Toks?” Chad asked. “He has he’s just playing stupid.” You said. “I’m such a boomer.” Fitz said. “You sure are.” You said getting up from Fitz’s lap, him gasping. “You don’t watch Tik Tok, what do you do all day?” Chad asked. “Jerk off.” You said, everyone laughing. “Being paralyzed from the waist down sucks, and your dick don’t work!” Fitz said. “Y/N would you still love Cam if his dick didn’t work?” Chad asked. “Of course.” You said, giving Fitz a kiss. “Babe, not in front of the homies.” Fitz said, everyone laughing. “It’s pedophile 100% of the time!” Fitz yelled. “Fitz that’s that’s really bad.” You said, everyone laughing. “Where the fuck am I supposed to sleep?” You asked, seeing Tobi and Fitz cramped on the blow up. “Right here.” Fitz said, patting his lap. “We got no mattress and 3 bags, and that’s it, that’s fucking it.” Swagger said, you sitting next to him in the tent. “And we got a heater, which will probably kill us.” Swagger said. “Yeah that’s a really bad idea.” You said.

“Is this how you imagined your time with the Misfits would include this?” Tobi asked. “I love talking about your guys shit life, thanks.” You said, everyone laughing. “I mean you hit the board, I’m impressed.” Tobi said, as Swagger hit the board. “Yay Swags!” You said. “Just getting some B-roll.” Tobi said filming Swagger and Fitz. “Tobi.” You said laughing. “Chad!” You yelled, Chad ripping the top off the tent. “Oh you cunt!” Tobi yelled. “Chad watch out!” You yelled, Matt spraying him and Sam with a fire extinguisher. “I know them.” Mason said, at the car that drove past. “You do, who are they?” You asked. “That was James and Sheralls.” Mason said. “Fill it up ya dickhead.” Mason said, hitting Matt on the head. “And there they go.” You said, Matt chasing after Mason. “How was your ride in Matt’s car?” Sam asked. “I mean it was alright except the part where he almost killed us.” Mason said. “Okay, almost died.” Swagger said. “Not the car I want to die in.” You said. “Oh no this is loot lake.” Mason said. “Loot lake?” You asked, laughing. “Fitz.” You said, him Mason and Koby sitting on the ledge. “If you fell from this point you’d be goneskies.” Mason said. “Oh that makes me feel so much better.” You said, the camera panning towards you. “Come on babe get in!” Fitz yelled. “Nah I’m good.” You said, everyone laughing.

“How’d you guys sleep?” Chad asked. “We slept great how’d you sleep chad?” Fitz asked. “Terrible, I also had night terrors all night.” Chad said. “Fitz had a great night cause he got laid.” You said, Fitz chuckling. “What’d you guys think of last nights trip?” Tobi asked. “Um I cried like almost the whole way.” You said. “You did, why?” Fitz asked, pulling you into him. “We just kept hitting Roo’s.” You said. “I heard the rabbit go eeeeeee.” Mason said. “No stop!” You said, hiding your face in Fitz’s chest. “Once again, very Mason energy.” You said, Mason hitting the ground with a stick. “Very happy just got some blueberry ice cream and blackberries, good day to be Fitz.” Fitz said. “Can I have a lick?” You asked, licking Fitz’s ice cream. “Not the first time you’ve asked me that.” Fitz said, you laughing. “Dude do we want to go down there?” Mason asked. “Absolutely fucking not.” You said. “Oh I forgot, Y/N has a fear of heights.” Fitz said. “Those guys are looking at us like were retards.” Mason said. “Cause you are.” You said, everyone laughing. “Oh well, nothing else for it.” Fitz said pretending to jump off, you and Swagger screaming. “Oh dude stop, fuck this!” Swagger yelled before leaving. “Fitz!” You screamed, Fitz slipping on the stairs. “Bit of a close one.” Fitz said. “Ya fucking think?!” You asked. “I need to go home tomorrow I think.” Chad said. “Me too.” You said.

“Oh my god!” Koby yelled, Chad dropping his towel. “Fitz stop encouraging this.” You said laughing, as Fitz played on the piano. “No fucking way this is happening right now.” You said, after being stopped by the police. “Were filming for a Youtube series right now.” Tobi said, the boys laughing. “Yeah tell them were Youtubers that might get us out of this.” You said. “Are we really only left with the pink limo?” You asked. “Guess so.” Fitz said laughing. “That’s fresh pigs blood.” Chef David said. “Oh absolutely not.” You said, you and the boys gagging. “You don’t caress me like that, Fitz!” You yelled, Fitz kissing the pigs head. “What about that do you not like?” Fitz asked. “Everything.” You said. “It smells.” Mason said. “I ain’t kissing that pigs head.” Mason said. “I don’t blame you Mase.” You said. “Swallow.” Swagger said, Mason gagging. “Swallow Mason spitters are quitters.” You said, the boys laughing. “I’m done.” Mason said.

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funnylittlelad · 2 years

Text

A Touch of Humanity - Din Djarin x gn!reader

re-edited (Feb. 2023)

Read on AO3 - Masterlist

Part III: Naboo

Part I | Part II

summary: A sobering abruption, a few weighty decisions, and a wandering scamp who thinks with his stomach. What lengths will Din have to go to in order to secure a future for his family?

word count: 8.8k

tags/warnings: fluff, angst, canon typical violence, Din is the Father the holy trinity is talking about, co-parenting, Grogu is so good at playing a damsel in distress, gift giving is Din's love language, the helmet comes OFF (actually), I used canonical places and history until there was no more to go off of and then made up my own to flesh it out

“Sola,” you breathe.

The grip you have on Din’s wrist would leave a bruise if it weren’t for the protective layers. Din tenses up. He steps forward, half in front of you. It’s a moment where the beskar stops being just Din’s and becomes yours as well. A wall of beskar between you and the sign screaming DANGER. Grogu sinks lower into the pouch when he sees Din’s stance. The movement places him out of view.

“Y’know, I really never thought I’d see you off Naboo,” she teases and starts clapping, “Good on you.”

Your nostrils flare as humiliation tears through you. If you weren’t frozen, you’d run. Frankly, you aren’t sure if Din will take the opportunity to collect another bounty. You aren’t sure if you’d want to stop him.

“I see you’ve been busy too,” her eyes travel up the length of Din in a way that makes your blood feel like acid.

“What do you want, Sola?” you question, your voice finding footing so it comes out firm.

“Geez, not even a hello, how are you? I guess I should lead by example as the older sibling,” she sighs dramatically, “How are you, Polliwog?”

The old nickname sears your skin. Your grip on Din’s wrist tightens further.

“I’m fine,” you answer through grit teeth.

“Good, that’s good to hear,” she says pleasantly.

Sola waits expectantly, still swinging her legs casually. When you don’t return the question she rolls her eyes.

“How are you, Sola?” She does a bad impression of you, “I’m doing great, Polliwog. Thank you for asking.”

“What do you want?” You repeat more forcefully.

“Word around the galaxy is I have a nephew. I wanted to meet the little bugger.”

“Who told you that?” you ask.

Sola waves a dismissive hand at you.

“It’s a small galaxy. Not a lot of Mandalorians are walking around with a Grizmallti and a baby. So, where is the little womprat?”

“You’re not getting near him,” you snap before Din has the chance to.

“C’mon, Polliwog. I know some people who are very keen to meet him and they’d make us rich for the honor,” she says it like she’s dangling a carrot in front of you.

“You should go,” Din states firmly.

“Oh, nice, the shiny one does talk. Here’s the thing, Shiny, this doesn’t involve you. This is a family matter,” Sola tells him condescendingly like she’s speaking to a youngling.

“This is my family.”

Sola’s eyes widen and she sits up straighter. She takes a second to look between the two of you, a smirk crawling onto her face.

“Well, now, isn’t that interesting? Of all the things to crack beskar, I never thought it would be you, Polliwog. Not with how soft you’ve always been,” she muses.

“Stop calling me that,” you tell her, anger seeping into your voice.

The name makes you feel so small, so helpless. It makes you feel like a polliwog caught in the current of the Dee’ja Peak river, not strong enough to resist being swept away. You suppose that’s why she uses it. Sola has always been big on making you feel small. She frowns, pushing out her bottom lip.

“You’re not even a little happy to see me?”

You exhale sharply through your nose.

“It’s nice to see you aren’t dead, but no, I’m not happy to see you.”

Sola sucks her teeth, clearly growing bored of the conversation. She pushes herself off the crates and lands easily on her feet. Din towers over her, but she isn’t phased in the slightest. Sola knows better than anyone that size doesn’t matter in a fight, just how hard you hit.

Her hair is pulled back into two braided buns on the back of her head, her clothes are tactical, and there’s a scar you didn’t notice when she was up on the crates. The scar is a few shades darker than the rest of her face but was clearly once a deep wound. It travels along the right side of her jaw, curving up around the corner of her mouth, and across her nose before tapering off under her left eye.

“Mind movin’ for me, Shiny?” she asks with a sweet smile, but her cold eyes stay on you.

“Yes, I do,” Din answers, voice ice under the twin Tatooine suns.

Sola’s eyes shift to Din, but only her eyes move. She arches an eyebrow and gives him another look up and down. Din knows she’s sizing him up, trying to decide if a fight with him is worth it. He flexes his hand on his blaster in a warning. The corner of Sola’s mouth quirks up. Din moves his head sideways to look over his shoulder.

“Go back to the Crest,” he tells you.

“What? I’m not let-”

“There are more important things to worry about than pride right now. Please, just go back to the Crest.”

You feel Grogu shift on your back and your stomach drops. You know what Din is asking of you. Go to the Crest, close the door, and protect the kid. As much as you didn’t want to leave him, he’s right. You need to worry about keeping Grogu safe. You need to trust Din to handle it like he always does. It’s Sola you don’t trust.

“Okay,” you agree quietly.

Sola sighs loudly.

“You know I can’t let you do that, Polliwog. We’ve been through this before, haven’t we? Just like when we were kids, give me what I want. You know I’ll take it anyway,” she looks at her nails bored as she speaks.

You start seeing red. Rage trembles through your bones. Not only is she calling Grogu it, but she’s also comparing taking him to sell to taking your toys as children.

“He’s not an object, Sola,” you seeth, “he’s a kid.”

“He’s worth a shit ton of money.”

Din has had enough. He whips his blaster out of its holster and aims at Sola’s chest.

“So are you. Looks like we’re at an impasse,” he says cooly.

Sola makes a round pop with her tongue on the roof of her mouth and takes a step back. There’s still a smirk on her face. It’s infuriating how when she doesn’t look bored she looks amused.

“Alright, this just got interesting. What are they offering you for me?” She jerks her chin up at Din as she asks.

“More than you’re worth.”

“Awe, he thinks he can hurt me. Cute. I’ll double it to forget you saw me.”

“You could triple it and I would bring you in for free,” Din angles his head down menacingly.

“Gotta say, I like this one, Polliwog. I figured you’d end up with someone more… cutesy, more your speed. A little hypocritical when you think of the talks you’ve given me, but I’m willing to let that go,” Sola smiles mischievously.

She’s trying to get in your head. You know that, but it’s still working. The rage cools into embarrassment. Heat floods your cheeks.

“You’re talking to me now,” Din asserts.

“Please, you’re not going to do anything to me for two reasons. One, I came unarmed. Sure, you’re a bounty hunter, but are you really a murderer? Two, Polliwog wouldn’t be able to look at you after watching that. Something tells me that would bother you,” Sola is patronizing but absolutely correct.

“How do you know I won’t kill you and collect the bounty now that I know you’re unarmed?” Din challenges.

“You Mandalorians tend to be pretty rigid on honor codes,” she shrugs with a smirk, “and I like to gamble.”

“So, what? You just came by to see if you could talk me into giving you a child to sell?” you demand incredulously.

Sola shrugs again carelessly.

“More or less. Believe it or not, I don’t actually want to hurt you. I figured I’d give you a fair warning.”

“A fair warning?” you furrow your brows.

“Yeah, if you don’t want to cooperate now when I’m asking nicely… Well, when I come to collect later I won’t be as nice,” Sola sounds like she’s deriving some sick pleasure from this.

“If you come back later, neither will I,” Din warns.

“Cute. You two are cute,” she seems to decide out loud.

With a smile, she stalks off into Mos Eisley. It takes Din’s firm grasp on your upper arms to make you realize you’re shaking. His gloved thumbs rub against your arms soothingly.

“I won’t let her touch you,” he promises.

You manage a weak smile. Din hates seeing the light of your face so dim. Like the flame responsible is close to flickering out.

“We should check on Peli,” you whisper.

Din nods, but he refuses to stop touching you. He takes hold of your hand and the two of you go find Peli snoring on a tattered couch.

***

“Din,” your voice is soft in the silence of the cockpit.

“Yes?”

“I… I think I want to go home.”

Din swears the floor of the Crest gives out beneath him. He swears he’s hurdling aimlessly through space with no hope of being found.

“Can I ask why?” He’s quiet. The words are only audible due to the sheer will to be heard.

“Sola found us because of me,” you say a half-truth.

You don’t want to tell him that you fear she’s right. That you’re too soft for Din. That you’re better off with someone more your speed. What if he realizes that you aren’t enough, that he needs someone more like Sola to keep up with him? Maybe not exactly like Sola, but similar enough.

“She would have found us either way,” he tells you.

“Din… let’s be honest with ourselves. I’m not made for all this. The one thing Sola was right about is that I don’t fit this. I don’t…,” you trail off.

I don’t fit you sits on the tip of your tongue. Din clicks on the autopilot. He crouches in front of you in the already cramped space. Grogu is asleep in his hammock, safe for another day.

“Nothing Sola said was right,” he insists.

You stare into the not-so-empty black of his visor and wish you were seeing brown. You wish you knew what kind of brown.

“I can’t keep up with you, with this lifestyle. I’ll only slow you down,” you poke another hole in his attempt to comfort you.

Seeing Sola always makes you spiral. Seeing her with Din and having her comment on your relationship with him is a special kind of spiral. The kind that feels too true. Din’s gloved hands cradle your face. It’s not quite the same as his bare hands, but it’s still undoubtedly him.

“Then I’ll slow down. I’ll come to a complete stop if I have to. Whatever you need from me I’m prepared to give you,” the words come out half pleading and soft.

You blink away tears. It takes extreme effort not to fall apart in his hands. When has anyone ever offered you so much? How could you accept so much? How could you not?

“Would you stay in Dee’ja Peak with me?”

“I would stay anywhere as long as it’s with you.”

With a quivering lip, you throw your arms around Din. The beskar is a strangely comforting feeling. The cold nip grounds you, and anchors you to him. His arms are sure this time. They wrap around your back and hold you against him firmly. You pull back to be able to look at his face. The face of his helmet which you know by sight, but also the face you know by touch that resides underneath.

“What will we do about Sola?” you ask.

“I’m not interested in the bounty on her head anymore. I understand the complexities of the situation, but if it comes down to her or Grogu-”

“Pick Grogu,” you say without missing a beat.

Din pauses in surprise. He expected you to be on the same page, but that he would still have to coax it out of you a bit. He nods in agreement.

“You’ll still be able to look at me if it comes to that?”

You place a hand on his beskar cheek. The smile that crawls onto your lips is proof the flame is gaining new life. It warms him inside out.

“I’ll always be able to look at you. You’re not the only one who understands the complexities of the situation. I just want Grogu safe. I don’t care what the cost is,” you tell him with all the tenderness you can muster.

The emotion that floods Din’s entire being is new and intense, but familiar and good. It feels like taking his helmet off after a long day and enjoying the air on his face. A rush of adrenaline mingled in with the high of joy. Something so similar to what he feels for Grogu, but yet worlds apart. That thought slides it all into place and Din knows. He knows he’s fallen completely in love with you. It overwhelms him until he can’t take it anymore, until he has only a single shred of self-restraint left that threatens to snap.

“Close your eyes, keep them shut until I say,” he gives the orders gently.

You do as he says. The hiss of his helmet being released is sharp in the quiet of the cockpit. You don’t feel his hands, so you assume the helmet is still in them. Din presses a deep, affectionate kiss to your lips. A thrill shoots down your spine and explodes into a million butterflies in your stomach. Too soon, he’s gone and you hear the click of his helmet fastening.

“You can open your eyes.”

Your eyes flutter open. The beskar is there like it was never gone. The ache for him still on your lips tells you otherwise.

“I really like doing that,” you chuckle lightly.

“Me too.”

***

Returning home after traversing the galaxy with Din makes everything look different. Dee’ja Peak feels like a completely different place. It occurs to you as you walk through the town to get to your house that, perhaps, it’s you that’s changed. You left here a lone traveler hitching a ride with the fearsome Mandalorian. You’re returning as someone who is loved, as a parent, and as a family.

Once someone spots you and calls out your name, you get swarmed by fellow Grizmallti. Hugs, kisses on the cheeks, and happy cheers get passed around. Din watches fondly with Grogu in the pouch on his front. Gus sees Din off to the side and approaches him. He sticks his hand out gruffly. Din stares for a moment before taking it in a firm handshake.

“I wasn’t sure of you when you started showing up and leaving the kid. I heard you were after Sola… wasn’t sure what you were getting at. You kept’em safe, though. Brought’em home. You have the respect of Dee’ja Peak for that,” Gus nods curtly.

“This was never about Sola,” Din tells him evenly.

Gus seems to size him up before deciding to believe him. Another curt nod to confirm it to himself.

“Good. That’s good. Thank you. I’ve been looking after’em since those two were younglings. Sola… I don’t know what happened. It was like something just went bad in her. It only got worse after their parents passed,” Gus sighs, “What I’m trying to get at is- I’m happy to know there’s someone else looking after’em too.”

Din nods, pride swelling his chest. He likes that it’s known that he protects you. That he watches out and keeps you safe. He likes that someone could look at the two of you and know you’re with him.

“I’m happy to.”

A hint of a smile appears on Gus’s face. He slaps a hand down on Din’s pauldron in a gesture of camaraderie, of acceptance into something larger than himself that won’t take so much from him. Then Gus is stepping away to rejoin the crowd welcoming you home.

You eventually make your way through everyone. Your house looms over you and anxiety strikes your heart. Din may think he’s okay staying, but what if that changes once he does? What if your house never feels like home again? What if Dee’ja Peak or Nabu never feels like home again?

“You’re worrying again,” Din comments from behind you after a beat of standing in silence.

You breathe out a laugh and turn around.

“I haven’t even said anything,” you point out.

“You don’t have to.”

It’s a humbling sentence. You don’t always have to speak. Sometimes your body does that for you. When your words fail, Din can still read you enough to know something is up. Feeling so deeply known is a luxury you have never had the privilege of experiencing before. Now that you have, you never want to go back.

“Are you sure this will be enough for you?”

Din can hear the unspoken question. Are you sure I will be enough for you?

“I know it will be because it already is.”

A trembling smile makes its way across your face. His words give you the strength you need to unlock the door and enter. Everything is exactly as you left it. Just a little dustier, but otherwise the same. Grogu coos happily as Din puts him down and takes off to cause a ruckus. It feels right coming home with them. It feels like it’s how it always should have been.

“I’m gonna throw my stuff in my room, maybe get changed,” you tell Din.

He nods and watches you disappear beyond your door. It’s a split-second decision that took weeks upon weeks of agonizing over. His heart is pounding so hard he’s surprised there isn’t a metallic sound from it hitting the beskar of his chest plate. He sits on one of the comfy cushy seats he’s secretly missed. Grogu comes around the seat with a cookie. Din chuckles and shakes his head.

“I don’t want to know where you got that from.”

He takes a steadying breath. Then the hiss of his helmet release and Grogu’s excited gurgling fill the room. Din places his helmet carefully on the ground beside him. Grogu reaches up for him and Din takes him into his lap. A little three-fingered hand meets his cheek gently, ears perking up. Din smiles softly at him.

“Oh, do you-” your voice stops abruptly.

Din freezes for a moment, a hot spike of self-doubt driving through his gut. He hears your shaky breath and can’t take it anymore. Din turns to you, eyes wide and nervous. You stand just outside your bedroom door in a new set of clothes. Your fingers barely cover your mouth as you process the shock of what you’re seeing.

It’s an agonizing five seconds of nothing. Of you taking each other in. Then you move forward slowly. You’re completely captivated by every feature. His eyes are the kind of brown that makes you think of soil and the life that springs from it. They send you feelings of hope for the future. As you thought, his facial hair is short, more of a stubble. His nose slopes downward in the most endearing way. Then there are his lips. His lips that you’ve felt on yours, but have never seen. Now you can appreciate the gentle bow of them, the way they part slightly as he watches you.

“Din?” you ask breathlessly, stopping halfway between him and your bedroom.

It’s a stupid question. Of course, it’s Din. Yet, you couldn’t get anything else out of your mouth. He nods at you, eyes still holding all his anxiousness. His face shows you everything he’s feeling. The hope, the nerves, the adoration, and the determination. You stand in limbo, wanting so badly to touch him, but not wanting to move too fast. Din watches, starving for your touch.

“Your helmet is off,” you state slowly.

“Yes, it is,” he answers with a little quirk of his lips.

Seeing his mouth move and hearing his voice come out of it doesn’t feel real. It feels like peering through the looking glass into your dreams.

“Why? You didn’t have to- Maker, did you feel like you had to becau-”

“I didn’t feel like I had to do anything. I did what I wanted to. What I’ve been wanting to do,” he assures you.

That voice washes over you, easing every tense muscle. You finally finish closing the space between you. He angles his head to look up at you and it hits you. This man, this face, this beautiful example of a human has been the one caring for you, buying you gifts, and kissing you like you’re his last chance for air before suffocating.

You reach out an uncertain hand toward his face. When your fingers brush across his stubble, his eyes fall shut. Din just sits there and allows himself to revel not only in your touch but the fact that it’s accompanied by your eyes on his face.

You’re exploding on a molecular level. Every square inch of you is becoming something entirely new. It almost hurts how happy you are. Not because you’re looking at Din’s face precisely, but because he’s offering you every ounce of trust he has. He’s telling you through the simple act of looking you in the eye that he is wholly and completely comfortable with you. You’re his family. You’ve never doubted it since he said it, but it feels so much more official now.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper.

Din’s face flushes, bringing a reddened tone to his tan stubbled cheeks. You smile at the sight.

“So are you,” he whispers back, matching your smile.

Grogu coos happily on Din’s lap. Both of you turn your smiles to him. He gazes up at you two with wide joyful eyes and ears perked up. You place a small kiss on the top of his head, causing him to close his eyes briefly when your lips meet his skin.

Before you get too far, Grogu places his hand on your cheek lightly. Then he looks to Din expectantly. Din lowers his face closer so Grogu can place his other hand on Din’s cheek. It’s a tender little moment of being connected to each other, of accepting each other. It’s Grogu’s way of telling you that he loves you both.

Once he’s satisfied that he got his message across, Grogu crawls down. That’s when you see the half a cookie in his hand that he has previously put down.

“Wait, where did he get that?” you ask.

“I don’t know.”

“Din, you let him eat a cookie that’s probably been sitting here for weeks?” you try to be stern, but you end up laughing.

“I’ve seen him eat much worse,” he shrugs.

This is the first time you see the expression he makes when he shrugs. His eyebrows go up a little and he gets a hint of a pout. Every expression he offers is a gift, but this one is especially endearing.

You ponder his words.

“Y’know, I have too,” you sigh.

You and Din watch Grogu. You watch him climb up the empty seat with the cookie in his mouth. Once he’s up there he settles in and continues munching. Crumbs are getting everywhere, but that’s something you can deal with later. You turn your head to talk to Din only to find his eyes already intently on you.

Din’s mouth captures yours in a soft kiss. He tugs on your arm to get you to come around the seat. Then he pulls you into his lap. The beskar is cold even through your clothes, but his mouth is so warm. You cradle his face as his arms circle around you. Breathing becomes a priority faster than you care to admit, causing you to pull back. Just like every other second you since stepping out of your room, you look into his eyes. Those unreal eyes are ready to nurture you, to care for you, and to remind you of that every day.

“I don’t know why I was ever worried that I’m too soft for you when you treat me so gently,” you mumble.

Din’s eyebrows furrow. It amazes you how expressive the face beneath that helmet has been this entire time. How many smiles has he returned? How many has he initiated?

“It’s why I love you,” he says it like it’s the one known fact of life.

Your breathing stops. Everything feels so hot. Sure, it’s not like you couldn’t guess, but it’s different hearing it. It’s different hearing it like it’s not even a question worth entertaining. The answer is etched in the bedrock of the oldest river on the oldest planet and has been since the beginning of time.

“You love me because I’m soft?” you keep your voice hushed as if being too loud will wake you up from this dream.

“I love you because you’re brave enough to be kind and caring in a galaxy that often isn’t. That often punishes those who are.”

Your eyes search his and find only honesty. A smile crawls upon your face. Again, he matches your smile with his own.

“I love you too, Din. Except I love you because you’re brave enough to be kind and caring after being raised in a culture that teaches you not to be.”

“You love me because I’m soft?” his smile grows amused.

“Yes, I do. You’re my soft,” you place a kiss on his forehead, “kind,” another on his nose, “caring,” and finally one on his lips, “beautiful man.”

Din looks at you like you handcrafted the universe. He’s never been described as any of those things. To hear them all coming from you is more than he ever let himself wish for.

“What were you asking when you came out here?” he asks, suddenly recalling how this started.

“Well, I was going to ask if you wanted to rotate beds until we figured something out, but… sleeping next to you sounds a lot nicer,” you say, a smirk curling on your lips.

“Yes, it does.”

***

Waking up in Din’s arms is something you’re sure will get you giddy every time. Especially when his eyes are already studying when you wake up. Your eyes flutter open and a loving smile grows on Din’s lips. How did you go this long without that smile?

The two of you spend the day cleaning to get rid of the dust and any old food. Din does so in only his flight suit, armor safe and sound in your now shared bedroom. It’s a slice of domesticity that provides you with a peak at what’s to come.

What’s to come is you and Din working in effortless tandem as if reading each other’s minds, stealing stares and little kisses in the process. Grogu wakes up somewhere during mid-morning. Din had secured his little hammock across your still-empty closet. It’s perfect for his current size, but you’re sure it’ll have to be upgraded as he grows.

After feeding him a breakfast of warm oats, you set Grogu up at the coffee table with paper and crayons. He’s able to make shapes now thanks to your expert training. The crayons fill his tiny fists so much that finer detail is impossible, but you can see your little budding artist coming out. It’s the most pleasant morning you can recall having.

There’s a rare moment when neither of you has eyes on Grogu. You’re on your knees cleaning out the last kitchen cabinet. When you take one of your regular glances at Din he’s doing the dishes from Grogu’s breakfast. Which means both of your backs have been to Grogu. The silence you register outside of the running water becomes head-pounding. No little noises, no paper crinkling, and no sound of crayons against a hard surface.

“Din, where’s Grogu?” you ask as you stand up and look into the empty living room.

Din looks over his shoulder at where you’re staring. The spot Grogu is supposed to be in is empty. You do your best to tamp down the panic that’s threatening to rip you apart. It’s no use, Din can see it on you right away.

“Has he gone back to sleep?” he asks calmly.

His anxiety shows in how he turns off the water, immediately turning around to scan the room. You go to the bedroom expecting to find him curled up on your unmade bed. Except, the bedroom is empty too. The look on your face when you come back out makes Din’s stomach drop to his feet.

“Din?” you whisper anxiously, looking at him with wide eyes for guidance.

Din kicks into full Mandalorian mode in a blink. His face is stern, shoulders squared, and posture stiff. Nothing like the loose relaxed man that was just doing dishes quietly beside you. This is a man on a mission.

“Check the bathroom,” he doesn’t really order you, but you do it as such.

“Din,” you call out, panic fully breaking through the thin barrier you built.

He’s there, over your shoulder before you can even finish his name. The mirror that extends from the wall is flush against it. The window above the sink is open and there are crumbs trailing over the windowsill. The toilet seat is down, which gives Grogu the perfect landing to climb onto. All of that is bad on its own, but the worst of it is on the glass pane of the window. Neat black letters are written across from the outside in marker. Nothing personal, Polliwog. You might be sick.

“Stay here,” Din does order you this time.

You follow him to the bedroom where he starts fastening all his armor to his body. Tears are quickly welling up in the corners of your eyes.

“I’m coming with you,” you tell him firmly.

He gives you desperately pleading eyes. He’s begging you not to make this harder, never once stopping armoring up.

“I need you to stay here,” he says, softer this time.

“And do what? Just wait, not knowing if you’re going to come back?” you demand, voice growing louder the more you grow anxious.

Once everything, but his helmet is on he walks up to you. Both heavy gloved hands find your upper arms.

“Mesh’la, I can’t be worried about you out there. Please, stay where I know you’re safe. We will be back.”

“Where are you even going? We don’t know where they went.”

“I’m going to follow the crumbs.”

You stare stubbornly into his eyes. The mixed emotions of fear, anger, desperation, and love you find there cause you to sigh.

“Okay, fine, but if you aren’t back in a few hours I’m coming after you,” you cross your arms as you compromise.

Din gives your arms a little squeeze. He leans in and presses a brief kiss to your lips before securing his helmet. You stare into his visor, now knowing the expressions that lie behind it.

“Please, come back, Din,” you plead softly, “I need you both to come back.”

“We will, I swear.”

You walk him to the front door. It feels eerily like all the times you said goodbye. A moment where nothing has changed. Nothing except for everything.

“I love you,” he says to you.

“I love you too.”

After a beat of taking each other in, he’s gone. You drop into the seat where Din sat last night and bury your face in your hands. An ugly sob breaks through. Although you know this is no one’s fault but Sola’s, guilt begins to creep in. Guilt, shame, and knee-buckling fear. The guilt of not watching Grogu better. The shame of Sola being your sister and therefore bringing them closer to her. Knee-buckling fear that you’ll never see one or both of them again.

You drag your hands down your face, wiping away fat tears. That’s when you catch sight of the colors on the last page Grogu had been coloring on. Gray, blue, and green. It would be an incomprehensible image to anyone else, but to you, it’s clear as day. A gray rounded smudge of color represents Din. A blue rounded smudge of color represents you and the Corellian silk he must intrinsically associate with you at this point. A smaller green smudge of color represents Grogu himself.

Although fear is still very much present, an overwhelming wave of emotion forces you up. There’s just no way you can sit here for hours. There’s no way you can sit here for another second without doing something. What can you do, though? You’re just a soft little Grizmallti from Dee’ja Peak armed with nothing but the need to protect your family. That self-deprecating thought gives you a light bulb above the head moment.

Pulling on your shoes as you go, you run outside. You sprint over to Gus’s and barrel in. He looks startled by the rough entrance but relaxes when he registers it’s you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks as he gets a good look at your face.

“She took my kid. Sola took my kid.”

***

The crumbs lead to the woods, which doesn’t really come as a surprise. Sola must have been seen going into these woods at some point for the rumor of her running off in there to have spread. The woods means Sola has the upper hand. She knows the terrain, the territory, and what lurks in the shadows. Din is at a substantial disadvantage, but it doesn’t really matter. He doesn’t hesitate following the crumbs into the sea of trees.

The crumbs die off pretty quickly once under the canopy of foliage. Luckily, Din can still make out Sola-sized footprints in the soft mossy ground. He finds some broken branches from where she’s stepped or passed through. Clearly, she’s confident enough to not bother even attempting to cover her tracks. Din keeps his blaster at the ready. This time, he won’t think twice about shooting whether she’s armed or not. A line has been crossed that can’t be uncrossed.

“Oh, I was hoping it would be you to follow me,” Sola’s perky voice echoes through the trees around him.

He stops walking to glance around. Visibility is low thanks to the sky being blotted out by leaves.

“Why is that?” he calls back, constantly looking in every direction, listening for any sign of where she is.

“Well, I should have the talk with you, right? About your intentions and all that good stuff,” her voice carries a teasing edge.

“My only intention right now is finally collecting that bounty,” he answers sharply.

“You’re a lively one, aren't’cha, Shiny?” she chuckles, voice sounding just a little further away.

She’s baiting him, trying to draw him deeper into the forest. It wouldn’t work normally, but Grogu is with her. Din can’t not follow. What he can do is try to piss her off enough to show herself.

“I will be compared to you when this is over,” he bites in response.

Sola’s laughter echoes around him.

“Oh, you’re funny. I like that in a man. Polliwog better be careful, I just might take you too,” she teases, “I know for a fact I’m more exciting.”

“Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” she’s a little deeper in the woods now.

Din is getting an uneasy feeling in his gut. The sensation of eyes on the back of his neck sends a chill down his spine.

“So, do it then. Unless you’re scared,” Din challenges.

Sola lets out a dramatic sigh.

“Mm, that was a decent try, but I think I’ll wait for my friend to do the job for me,” she sneers.

“Your frien-” Din can’t finish the two-word question.

Something hard and heavy slams into his side, sending him flying into a tree. The tree lets out a CRACK as the bark splits where he impacts it. Din grunts and lifts his head to find a large set of teeth in front of him, sharp and dripping with saliva. The teeth belong to a creature Din has never seen before. It has two large hind legs, two shorter arms with razor-sharp claws, a nose like a bat, black eyes like a deep sea creature, and thin wiry fur sparsely covering splotchy skin.

Din uses the tree to help himself up as the creature breathes heavily at him, blinking vertical eyelids. He has one arm holding his torso, pretty sure there are at least a couple of broken ribs to take care of later. Hopefully. No, you promised. There will be a later, Din silently scolds himself. His other hand points his blaster at the creature.

“Sola, you’re taller than I remember,” Din grunts sarcastically at the thing.

“You haven’t even scratched the surface of what this forest has to offer,” Sola chuckles, sounding closer this time.

“I’d like to keep it that way,” he mutters to himself.

The creature lunges for Din again, but this time he’s able to throw himself out of the way. It slams its head into the tree, earning another CRACK. There’s a moment of silence, the creature stunned by the head blow. Then the tree lets out a groan.

Din takes the second he has to pull the trigger. The blaster hits the creature square in the back, but its hide is thicker than it looks. It just makes the thing roar angrily. The tree continues to groan. Din can hear Sola curse and pinpoints her in the tree that’s about to fall. He sees her moving fluidly through the branches like she’s done it a million times before. Right when she’s about to leap from the falling tree to the next, Din shoots her. The shot hits home on her thigh, causing her to fumble her landing.

She slips as her leg buckles from the pain, hissing. Then she’s hanging by her armpits fifteen feet off the ground. There’s a cloth bag hanging off her back that’s squirming. Din aims his blaster up at her head.

“Let him go,” he orders cooly.

“How much you offering for him?” she asks tauntingly, struggling to get herself up since she can’t swing her bad leg without crying out in pain.

Din must have hit bone. Good.

“Your life,” he spits.

“Not enough, gonna need more,” she grunts, attempting to use her full upper body strength on the branch that’s beginning to look precarious.

She must have only meant to hop onto and right off that branch because no way will it hold her weight long-term. Din opens his mouth to respond, but a low guttural growl stops him. He sighs and turns his attention back to the creature that’s recovered from its pained stupor. It readies itself to charge at him, but the tree is so close to falling. If Din can stall it, maybe he can trap it beneath the tree.

As it starts charging, Din begins firing his blaster at it. Each hit causes the creature’s footsteps to falter backward from the force. He’s too busy biding his time to hear the thud of Sola landing mostly on her uninjured leg. He doesn’t until the tree’s groaning finally becomes splintering as the tree falls forward, horizontal from Din’s current perspective. He’s waiting to let off one more blast, trying to time it to get most of the creature beneath the trunk. Right when he’s about to pull the trigger, white-hot pain shoots through his thigh.

His gaze snaps down as he grunts in pain. Sola has a knife buried to its hilt in the side of his thigh. She herself is on her stomach on the ground. Her leg is worse off from allowing herself to drop from the tree.

“Now we match,” she smirks, despite being in pain.

“Dank farrik,” Din hisses, pointing his blaster down at Sola.

The tree comes crashing down, missing the creature without Din’s final blaster shot. Its ferocious roar gains Din’s attention. He’s sure it’s over for all three of them. He’s sure Sola’s total disregard for her own life just doomed Grogu’s and his own. It’s a strange weightless feeling he’s experienced before, the certainty that he’s about to die. For once, it’s a feeling that wrenches his heart. It’s a feeling that leaves him distraught instead of numb acceptance.

The creature pounces, Sola is cackling from the forest floor behind him, and his last thought is the image of his little family together on that cushy seat at home.

Din’s eyes widen as the creature is knocked sideways when it’s only inches away. His gaze follows its limp body slide a few feet. What looks like a small harpoon is through its neck. In complete and utter confusion, he looks in the direction it came from, nearly dropping his blaster at what he finds.

A breath of relief rattles out when your eyes meet Din’s visor. You watch his shoulders drop in relief, his grip on his blaster going loose, and a tilt of his head that makes you think he’s on the verge of tears.

Gus is breathing heavily beside you, his giant crossbow lowered. Melda is at your flank with another harpoon in her hands, Luka at hers with a quiver of them. A family that usually only deals in credits and sharp words has come together to help fight for yours. Sola curses angrily when she sees the group. Din lets out a breath that sounds a lot like your name. Grogu can be heard gurgling as he struggles against the bag on Sola’s back.

Sola heaves herself up onto her heels, her hand flies up, and hits the knife sticking out of Din’s thigh. He drops to his knee with a pained groan, giving her the opportunity to take his blaster. Melda is quickly reloading Gus’s crossbow that he already has aimed at Sola. Sola has Din’s blaster aimed between your eyes but doesn’t pull the trigger. She sees Gus’s weapon pointed at her fully loaded.

“Let’s put an end to this, Sola,” you plead.

Din looks helplessly between the three of you. If Gus lets that harpoon go it’ll impale Grogu with Sola.

“Maker, why do you care so much about this thing?” she groans in irritation.

“That thing is a child- my child,” you snap back.

Din is soothed by your voice and awed by your words.

“Please, it’s just some little beast you picked up off the street,” Sola snaps back.

Your nostrils flare, fists clench, and you’re ready to take over Gus’s crossbow.

“Let. Him. Go,” you demand, voice lethal.

“You’ll have to kill me,” she taunts with a smile.

“Sola, don’t do this. Just let the youngling go and no one has to get any more hurt,” Gus calls to her.

She sends him a nasty glare.

“You got the credits to convince me, shopkeep,” she spits.

“I got the harpoon to,” he gives his weapon a little shake for emphasis.

“Funny, you think I care about a little thing like livin’,” she snickers.

You shake your head in horror. Whoever this is in front of you isn’t your sister. No, she stopped being your sister long ago. You just didn’t know how low she had sunk.

“How did you get like this, Sola?” you ask, heartbroken.

“I’ve always been like this, Polliwog. You were just too soft to see it.”

So much happens at once. There’s the sound of the blaster, a shout, a scuffle, and the blaster again. When you blink you’re looking up at the trees. You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. As you start to sit up a whole bunch of people rush to your side forcing you back down. Everything feels slow and muted. You try to sit up again, a little annoyed, but gentle hands push you back down.

“What-”

“You need to stay down. Please, you need to stay down,” Din’s modulated voice tells you.

His voice makes everything snap into focus. The pain finally registers. You look down at your torso. Your side is bleeding where it’s searing in pain. It’s not a clean hit. It’s a nasty graze, but it’s bleeding profusely. Din is applying pressure with his gloved hands. You cry out as the pain takes over.

“I know, I know. The pain is temporary, I promise,” he assures you.

“Grogu,” you grunt out, trying to get up again.

“Stay down. He’s okay, he’s fine. We got him,” he tells you.

You stop trying to get up, allowing yourself to fully lay back.

“Sola?” you ask, but you have a feeling you know the answer.

“She’s… she’s gone.”

You just nod, numb to the grief. Luka helps to carry your weight once a tourniquet is tied around your torso. Gus has Din’s arm over his shoulder and Melda is holding Grogu. You reach your hand out to him when you see him. There’s a moment when he’s able to hold your finger and you smile at him.

“We’re gonna have a talk about leaving the house alone when we get home, young man,” you tell him tearfully.

You’re so relieved he’s okay. Din watches you take your hand back. He watches Grogu coo worriedly after you. He’s truly so relieved he could pass out. That could also be the blood loss.

“Don’t worry. Doc’s got bacta that’ll have you both healed up in a matter of hours,” Gus assures him.

Din nods, not having it in him to talk. The way out of the forest feels so much longer than it took to get in. Din understands why these woods are so dangerous, he hadn’t even known he’d gone this far. He’s just glad he’s on his way out with you and Grogu.

***

It’s been a week and it still hurts. You wish it didn’t. You feel guilty that it does. Sola kidnapped Grogu to sell him. She tried to kill Din. She tried to kill you. Yet, knowing she’s gone hurts.

When you fall quiet and gaze out the window, thinking a little too hard Din starts to worry. He worries you blame him for being behind the trigger. He worries you won’t be able to take being in the same space as him anymore. You assure him it’s the opposite on both fronts. Especially when he did it for no other reason than to protect you and Grogu. He never even collected the bounty on her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers when you’re tangled up together at night.

“Don’t ever be sorry for saving us,” you whisper back earnestly.

Your hand caresses his cheek in the way you know he likes. Scratching his facial hair just enough for him to close his eyes in contentment. Once he eases enough you press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“I love you,” you tell him as you pull away.

“I love you too, mesh’la.”

***

Naboo is humid this time of year. It’s muggy, damp, moist, all the worst things to be when it’s so damn hot. It’s the type of boiling humidity that Din can feel creep across his skin under his armor. Yet, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

You’re set up at your usual spot by the river. Except now, over a year later, you know what lies beyond it. Grogu basks happily in the sun on a little blanket beside you. You’re painting an army of frogs that are on the riverbank, some in mud and some in the sun.

Din watches from a distance for a minute. He’s coming back from Theed, the planet’s capital. It isn’t too often, but now and then he’ll take up work there. Nothing too bad. Mostly he finds people subverting the Naboo government, but it pays well. He’s always bringing you things, which you can’t complain about. If he’s gone overnight it’s never for long, never more than a few days. Then when he’s back, he stays attached to you. Some part of his skin is always touching yours.

“Good afternoon, mesh’la,” he says when he’s close enough.

You look over your shoulder with a large smile. Grogu perks up at Din’s voice as well.

“Din, I thought you’d be gone another day,” you get up to hug him.

He’s only been gone a day, but any time apart feels like forever. Without a thought, Din takes off his helmet. His smile is dazzling. He kisses your forehead, then your lips, before putting his helmet back on. It’s been like this for a few months now. He won’t keep it off for long, but he’s more comfortable taking off the helmet briefly in public. Whenever home, the helmet is retired to the bedroom. Din has found a happy middle ground between the Mandalorian he was and the Mandalorian he hopes to be.

“Got lucky with a lead and it led me home early,” he explains as he scoops Grogu up.

“Let me pack up and we can head home.”

“Have you had lunch?” he asks knowingly.

“Grogu has,” you smile innocently.

“I’ll make you those noodles you like.”

Your smile turns warm and gooey. He helps you carry your things with Grogu on his hip. You tell him what the two of you have been up to, how Gus brought dinner the night before just to have a reason to check in. Din goes to the bedroom to remove his armor. You give Grogu his crayons and the little sketchbook you bought him. Once he’s set up at the coffee table, Din reappears in only his flight suit.

“What’s that?” you ask when you notice him holding something in his closed fist.

“I found someone in Theed who knows how to work with beskar,” he tells you.

You study his nervous features and nod for him to continue. He holds out his empty right hand. You place your left one in his open palm curiously. The cold beskar bites your finger for a moment before your skin acclimates. When his hand is gone there’s a shiny beskar band around your fourth finger, a perfect fit. Your wide eyes shoot up to Din’s face.

“This way each of us carries beskar. Even when we’re apart it’s a way for us to always be together,” he says softly.

Tears well up as you stare at him. You cradle his face and smile at him adoringly.

“I love you so much,” you say with a breath.

“I love you so much,” Din echoes your words and your smile.

Your lips meet in a frenzy. Both of you are desperate to be as close to one another as possible. The feel of his skin, of his lips, will never get old. Every time it feels new, sending shocks and butterflies throughout your body. This time is no exception.

Grogu cooing at your feet causes you to pull apart. He peers up at the two of you and brandishes the paper in his little hand. You pick him up, accepting the paper. He still works in scribbles, but they’re more intelligible now. A messy gray circle for Din’s head, and another for his body. Then a smaller green circle for Grogu’s head and a brown one for his body. Finally, there’s you with a blue head and brown body. Beneath the three of you is green grass. Between you are more scribbles to connect the three of you.

“A beautiful family portrait,” you compliment lovingly.

“It’s very accurate. That looks just like us,” Din agrees with a soft smile.

“I think this one should go on the wall,” you decide.

Din nods in agreement. Grogu gurgles joyfully. You use tape to stick the drawing to the wall amongst a collection of others Grogu has made.

“We’re going to need a bigger wall soon,” Din notes.

“It’s not my fault all he makes are masterpieces,” you whine.

Din chuckles.

“No, it’s not, but maybe we should consider finding something with more space,” he suggests.

You give him a surprised smile.

“Like a bigger house?”

“Yes, like a bigger house,” he nods.

It’s a heart-racing idea. You’ve already been living together for more than a year really, when you account for the time on the Crest. This is another level of commitment, though. Din really wants to put down deep roots with you. He wants to secure his life here and it fills you to the brim with joy.

“I think that sounds like an excellent idea,” you agree.

Din takes you and Grogu into his arms. The three of you remain like that for a good while, a nesting doll of love. Din encases you encasing Grogu in a warm embrace. It feels like everything in the galaxy has come together just for this perfect moment to happen. This perfect moment for this perfect little family nestled in the Gallo Mountains of Nabu.

taglist: @a-rose-of-amber, @itzagoodthing

#din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x gn!reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #grogu #down the din hole i go

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shostakobitchh · 8 months

Text

chapter 49 sneak peek!

you're all going to be confused as to what is going on here but they are!!!!!!!!! speaking!!!!!!!!!!!! without!!!!!!!!!!!! screaming or crying!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Why is there a raw steak on the ground?”

Ariel peered over, like she hadn’t known it was there the whole time. “I was hungry.”

She stared at Snape’s shoes. One of them began to tap, almost impatiently.

“You’re aware there is a mass murderer after you, correct?”

“Are you going to tell me the steak might attract him or something?” Ariel didn’t want to tell him about the dog, he’d probably think it was Black in disguise.

Snape made a low, disgruntled sound under his breath. Ariel lowered her head into her arms, tucking her knees under her chin, still refusing to look at him. The wind whistled through the grass and rolled across it like waves, whipping her hair around her face. She closed her eyes and listened to the sound, letting it sweep over her while she tried not to lose her temper.

There was a grunt, the sound of shoes scuffling against the dirt —

Ariel cracked open one eye.

Snape was lowering himself to the ground.

“What — what are you doing?” Ariel bleated.

“You have eyes, don’t you?” he snapped, nearly falling back. Ariel had the strangest urge to giggle, but she remembered the class's raucous laughter earlier and watched solemnly as Snape settled beside her, stretching out his long legs.

She stared at him. He stared ahead, like she wasn’t even there.

“Who are you and what have you done with Snape?” Ariel asked warily.

Snape’s eyes flickered to her for a brief moment, a hint of irritation in his gaze before his attention returned to the horizon. “Don’t be ridiculous, Miss Evans.”

“I’m serious.” Ariel turned to him, and she could’ve imagined it, but his eyelids fluttered. “I tried to poison myself in the middle of your class and snapped at you. Normally you’d pretend like I was a stick or a wad of gum for the next few days and then tell me how stupid I am even though it’s your stupid genes —”

Snape cut her off with a sharp glare, his black eyes hard. “Ask me something only I would know, then.”

Ariel blinked, her mouth hanging open a bit. “Like what?”

“Something only your father would know.”

She felt her heart slam into her ribs like a ton of bricks. The wind was suddenly the loudest sound in the world, suddenly the only thing she could focus on as Snape continued to gaze out at the grassy expanse, the sun spinning orange and pink flecks across the sky. The Dementors must have gone to investigate the Muggle woman’s call about Black because the clouds and gloom were gone — it was the only reason she’d come out here.

“What’re you doing?” Ariel asked quietly. “You always tell me to bugger off when I ask about that.”

Snape’s expression was unreadable, but Ariel could see the corners of his mouth twitching slightly. “I suppose I’m feeling generous today,” he said, his voice deceptively calm.

Ariel frowned, still feeling uneasy. Was this Snape’s way of trying to make things better? Was this him… apologizing?

She thought back to all the other times she’d forgiven him. She’d never even really thought about it — she’d been so desperate for him to see her, so desperate for him to accept her, because somehow, being an orphan was better than being a bastard who’s father didn’t want her. He’d pushed Ariel away time and time again, had told her she would regret it. Now that she knew why, she didn’t feel like she regretted it. She just felt… empty — betrayed — hurt.

She’d taken all of that and funneled it into her anger, letting it fester and build until she’d exploded all over Snape’s classroom. It was all gone, now. Now she just felt hollowed out, like the anger had taken up a piece of her she hadn’t realized existed until she was left to deal without it.

Ariel’s head felt like it was going to explode, trying to make sense of it all. She wasn’t even sure she wanted him here, but sitting next to him, under this rock, with a raw steak between them, Ariel’s head suddenly felt clearer than it had in weeks.

“If I ask you, will I actually get an answer?” Ariel tried not to sound harsh, but it came out more bitter than she would have liked.

He stared at here, and there it was again; that Thing that came out from behind his Occlumency, peeking out as though to make sure she was actually there and wasn’t going to storm off. Ariel wished he would let it out completely, but she also wasn’t quite sure she could handle it right now, her chest raw.

“You will,” Snape said. His knuckles had gone white, gripping at his cloak.

Ariel let her legs down, fiddling with her hands, digging down inside her for the best way to frame it, for the right question to ask. She had so many questions for him, all of them beginning in why, but she had to start somewhere, she supposed.

Ariel swallowed, and then lifted her chin. “Why did my mother have to Obliviate you?”

#aim and ignite #sneak peek #writing until my hands fall off

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mentallyinvernation · 11 months

Note

(〜 *◇*)〜 aaaaangst~

❛ you can’t save everyone. ❜

Right, so this one got incredibly out of hand, and the full fic is now gonna be on ao3 for the bingo adsfdgfh. But! Here's a snip with the angst prompt in it.

TW: discussion of canon deaths, mcd, and implied suicide.

Also, this has a lot of comic spoilers! It follows the events of The Wake, so be careful reading.

------

“Your wake was shit,” Hob tells the grave, sitting cross-legged and picking at the grass. “Don’t really remember much of it, if I’m being honest. That’s the trouble with dreams, I suppose. Heard the guest list was a right riot, though. A whole bloody universe. Christ. Had a flair for the dramatic even in death.” Hob’s lips twitch a little, a hearth of fondness smouldering away in him. “Hettie’s tried to reach out a couple of times. Don’t even really bloody know the woman. Keeps calling me Gadlink. Also met your sister. Feels a bit overdue, and the circumstances were buggered, but…she seems nice. Matthew has checked in a few times - he pops by when things get a bit much back home. Everything’s fine there. Matthew and Lucienne have it under control. They’re busy helping the new kid find his feet.” Something unhappy squirms and flips in his stomach. “Daniel. He’s doing his best. The Dreaming is - well, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay, I promise. I’m sure you already knew that…but ah, I thought I ought to let you know anyway. Just in case.”

Hob only remembers the details of Dream’s funeral through scattered increments, like rays of light reflecting off glass, of faceless crowds, a stone cathedral, and a chained book. Hettie claims to remember the whole affair in vivid detail, and Hob respectfully thinks she’s full of shit. The only reason Hob knows Dream is gone for certain is thanks to Death showing up at Ren Faire to confirm his worst nightmare. Losing Dream has always been so beyond the realm of probability - so outside the box of rational fate that Hob doesn’t really know where he's supposed to go from here.

“You’ve always had a knack for the impossible,” Hob gives the grave a quick smile, aiming for lighthearted and landing somewhere in the ballpark of heartbroken, picking apart one unlucky blade of grass between his fingers. “Part of your nature, I s’pose. I’d say the sky's the limit, but not even the end of the universe was the limit when it came to you. If it can be dreamed or thought, it can be done, right?”

The orange glow of a sinking sunset frames the cross. Hob swallows.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is…a part of me was hoping you might pull this off. Just this one last impossible thing. And look, I know you’re not really here - Christ, I’m just talking to a piece of wood, but the thing is -“ Hob’s heart rushes up his throat. “I miss you.” He admits quietly, a gentle breeze tousling his hair. “I miss you so fucking much I can’t breathe sometimes. So, I’m asking you to do this one last impossible thing. For me. Come back. Please just - come back. I don’t know how to...”

Hob's head hangs as he exhales sharply, wishing he knew what happened. Matthew’s kept his beak sealed shut about that - the little fucker disappeared out the kitchen window when Hob tried to interrogate him, demanding to know if there was someone to be held accountable. Anyone. Granted, one name, just one, would have sent him on a warpath to square off with whatever universe-bending force could have taken out someone like Dream. But still.

“Look, I can’t tell you, alright? It’s not that I don’t want to, I’m just not sure you’re in the best palace to hear it right now, man. And Daniel - It’s complicated.”

“Then un-complicate it, Matthew! Either he was murdered, or -”

Or.

Matthew had looked at him with so, so much sympathy and sorrow. Impressive, really, for a bird.

Regardless of the how or why, Hob still wishes he could have been there. To help. To stop it. To…to just be there, in Dream’s final moments.

You can’t save everyone, Hob.

It’s a bitter pill to swallow. One he struggles with time and time again, dragging mangled bodies across battlefields in the hopes of reaching a medic in time, heedless of the bullets or steel tearing apart his own flesh. Or hiding out in a bunker as the Blitz rained down on the streets of London, clutching the hand of a dearly beloved as her heart gave out. Or of his own flesh and blood who smiled and waved goodbye at the door one evening to go to a tavern he would never return from.

“I’ve buried so many people, Dream.” Hob whispers, oblivious to the haunted note that strings through his voice, pulling his legs up to his chest and staring sightlessly at the ground. “So many. But I never thought - “ Something dislodges in his chest, and it punches a wounded sound from him, similar to the low keen of an animal that’s been shot. “I never thought I’d have to bury you .”

There wasn’t even a body. He buried a coat.

The rickety dam in him cracks, and he clenches shut both eyes, tears trailing a scalding heat down his cheeks as he burrows his face between his knees, shoulders shaking as a series of silent sobs wrack through him. His chest aches. It hurts so much worse than any wound of the flesh could.

Hob stays like that for a long while, mourning a friend, his oldest friend. Perhaps more than that, if only they’d had more time - which feels like a selfish ask, all things considered. But Hob is greedy. He would have taken everything Dream was willing to give. Every century. Every second.

And now it's over.

#my writing #the sandman #dreamling #the sandman comic spoilers #cw: major character death #dream of the endless #Hob Gadling #Angst

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lemmetreatya · 1 year

Note

Here I am, once again dropping a Giorno request 🐖 I was thinking about Black fem reader who just loves to watch sunsets and sunrises ( i mean cmon who doesn't??) and since Giorno payed close attention to it he'd wake her up pretty early one day to watch it with her 'cause he wants to see her happy ☺️ hope that makes sense 🫶🏾

New Dawnings — Giorno x Black!fem reader

this request was so CYUTTEE!! as soon as i saw it come in i knew EXACTLY what scene i wanted to play out 🥹 ENJOY BB! 🫶🏾

—> Also, i’m claiming this reader and giorno as the same from the last request — so this is set post-confession scene 😆💖

Being able to sleep in was a privilege you began to savour more as you grew older.

Later mornings were something that rarely graced your schedule and so you had come to terms with early rises, bleary eyes and groggy thoughts.

However, despite that as the consequence, you’ve come to find love in the young mornings based purely on the fact that you were able to witness some of the most breathtaking sunrises that could have ever graced the land. The way the auburn colours painted the sky; like a blank canvas waiting to be used. It truly amazed you how picturesque morning sunrises could be and so for the time being, you stuck to it.

Yet no matter how much you had come to love a sunrise, a good lie in could never be denied.

Luckily, with how your week had fallen into place recently, it meant that you could get a few hours of sleep in before you had anything important to do.

Well, that’s what you had intended for yourself, but it looks like the person currently shaking you out of your sleep had thought else wise.

“Mmnng.”

You hadn’t even the energy to open your mouth or swat the perpetrator away. Your eyelids felt so heavy, a lot heavier than usual. You weren’t even sure if you were supposed to be awake yet.

The thought to ignore the person stuck with you. Maybe if you stayed asleep for long enough they’d bugger off, you thought. However, you soon learnt that that wasn’t going to work.

“Hey. Come on. Wake up or we’re gonna miss it.” A voice said.

Even half asleep, you knew exactly who the voice belonged to. It made the disturbance a bit more tolerable but even then, you still needed a valid reasoning.

“Miss wha’, Giogio?” You mumbled into the pillow.

The man stopped shaking you but he was now sat a top your bed, legs crossed as he looked back at you.

“The showing.” He said rather ominously.

Wearily blinking up at him, you had to lift your head so that you could read his face of seriousness.

“Huh? Wha’ show?”

Giorno shrugged.

“If you get up, I’ll show you.”

A large groan left your mouth as you let your head flop back down onto the pillow. Now that you think about it, the room was still practically quite dark. There was barely any light coming in from the outside so you sure as hell hope that whatever Giorno had to show you, was worth it.

With a sigh, you gathered your strength before flinging your blanket off of you and getting up on the opposite side of the bed Giorno was sat on. However, it’s only when you walked around your bed frame and proceeded to place your slippers on, that your sleepy brain was starting to catch up with the situation.

You whizzed round in Giorno’s direction, the blonde man’s eyes wide as he looked up at you.

“Wait, how’d you even get in here?”

Giorno looked sideways before scratching the back of his neck.

“I…have my ways?” He tried.

You watched him for a few more seconds, clearly not buying his explanation. It’s only when he smiled widely at you that you (mildly!!) relented.

“You’re lucky I like you.” You grumbled.

Still in your pajamas, bonnet and slippers, Giorno held your hand respectfully inside of his lap. He rubbed both of his palms against yours, trying his best to keep you warm, and appeased, enough to sit this in with him.

You were both currently sat inside his car. Ever since he got his license back, it’s practically been his second home.

“Giorno, I’m so cold.” You whined. “If you’re gonna keep me in here could you at least just turn the heating on. I can literally see my breath when I breathe.”

The blonde briskly brought your hands up to his mouth, blowing hot air onto them in an almost comedic manner.

“Sorry, no can do. If I put the heating on you’ll fall asleep again. I need you to stay awake.”

“But for what? You’re not telling me anything about why I’m here and I really wanted to sleep in today. You’re gonna make me grumpy and I don’t wanna be grumpy.” You groaned.

With a sigh, Giorno placed your hands back into his lap as his head leaned backwards against the chair rest. He knows he was asking for a lot, especially concerning he wasn’t relaying any helpful information to explain the situation.

Right now, you were wholeheartedly trusting that he wasn’t wasting your time and Giorno valued that from you. He just didn’t want to let you down and result in you never trusting him again.

“You’ll find out what it is in a bit.”

With an exasperated noise, you pulled your hand out from his grasp before turning towards him in an annoyed manner.

“Giorno! I do not want to be grumpy!”

The blonde opened his mouth to once again try and appease you but before he could, nature had come to his rescue as the first sighting of golden light peaked from the horizon.

Opening his side of the door, Giorno looked at you with a spark in his eye.

“It’s starting! Come on, it’s starting.”

Yet another sigh left your mouth as you sluggishly pushed yourself out the other door. When you closed it behind you, Giorno seemed to already be sitting on the hood of the car.

“I can’t believe you’ve got me up this early…” You mumbled as you find yourself automatically following Giorno’s lead and sitting besides him.

Giorno watches straight ahead at the now rising sun as the surroundings slowly cast orange and yellow glows.

With an attitude, you watch the side of Giorno’s face so that you could wait for him to look over at you and see your displeased expression. And you knew he could see you watching because a boyish grin soon graced his lips.

However, the man didn’t entertain you.

“Watch the show.” He muses without turning to look at you. You look away in a huff because the tactics that usually seemed to work on him weren’t working now.

Although Giorno, understanding how this may seem like an irritating experience to you, decided that maybe it was time to reveal his reasoning behind dragging you out so early.

Taking your hand in his once again, the blonde took a deep breath. He aimlessly rubbed his thumb over your knuckles and nails.

“I’m really new to all this, this thing we’ve got going on. And I’m trying my best to navigate all of it so do bare with me.” He started off.

Giorno usually wasn’t a brash or harshly spoken person, but hearing how his words came out frailer than normal, you knew he was being a lot more careful of the words he was trying to articulate.

Knowing that, you could already feel your moody mien start to dissipate. Feeling him tug on one of your fingers, you looked over at him with a less sour attitude than before.

“I wanna do more of the things you love, with you. And I know this may seem like the worst time and I’m sorry I woke you up so early today but I just wanted to experience this with you. Because I know you like this kinda stuff so… yeah.” He finished.

For the most part, you were speechless. Your mouth was softly agape as you watched the man with a surprised expression.

Ever since he confessed to you back then, your relationship has been the same as since when you were friends. Apart from the occasional lingering hug and holding of the hands here and there, there hadn’t been any progress.

And you know you were silly for thinking it, but you were starting to form the opinion that maybe Giorno had expressed his endearment for you within the spur of the moment and through the excitement of liquid encouragement.

However, hearing his words now and how he was actively trying to appease you, you now know you were foolish for ever thinking else wise.

“Gi…Giorno—” You started.

“Shp. It’s okay. Don’t say anything just yet.” He said as he shook his head and pointed towards the horizon. “For now, let’s just watch, okay?”

Bewildered, you blinked in shock, a stuttered ‘okay’ leaving your mouth before you turned towards the beautifully painted sky.

The scene before the both of you was breathtaking. You’ve seen so many sunrises before but this one seemed so much more divine. The way the sun slowly started to shine upon everything in it’s path was alluring.

“I love seeing sunrises. I really do.” You breathed.

No longer did you feel any form of discontent from being woken up early. The divinity of the azurian ceiling had truly blessed your morning and you could only feel assured that this moment was magical.

“This one was worth it Giorno, thank yo—”

As you turned round to thank the blonde, you were stopped mid-sentence.

With an infatuated smile, Giorno was already looking at you — the sunrise reflecting within his ocean blue eyes.

The environmental air was biting cold, but suddenly your neck, ear and cheeks were growing hot.

“What?” You bashfully mumbled, the feeling of wanting to hideaway was so strong.

Giorno only shook his head, his hand squeezing yours lightly.

“Nothing.” He mused. “I’m just watching the show.”

#giorno giovanna #giorno x black reader #giorno x reader #giorno x y/n #jjba giorno #jjba #jojos bizarre adventure

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buttercupsandboys · 2 years

Text

Sunshine & Rainbows — an Alfie Solomons x original character story — Chapter 2

18+ NSFW - minors don’t interact 🙅🏻‍♀️

MASTERLIST | READ ON AO3

CHAPTER 2: the unknown variable

Word count: 2261

TW: language typical of Peaky Blinders, mild sexual references

Alfie and Thomas meet for the first time, and Livy can’t keep her mouth shut. Chaos ensues.

“Put him down, mate. He's only little.”

Alfie makes his way towards the front of the bakery and gives his second visitor of the day a once over. He hums under his breath; the gypsy isn’t much bigger than the bird waiting upstairs.

“You on your own?”

“Seems so.”

“Well, you're a brave lad, ain't you?”

Alfie turns without waiting for a reply and heads in the direction of his office. His stride is slow, yet purposeful, the hallmark of a man used to getting what he wants when he wants it.

After a quick stop to sample the bread, they climb the stairs and continue to his office. Alfie opens the door and gives a silent prayer of thanks when he finds Livy sitting demurely in the corner with her hands folded neatly on her lap.

He’s not sure what he was expecting, but something in his gut warns him to proceed with caution. There’s an air of unpredictability about her as if any minute things could descend into fucking chaos.

It’s unsettling because he’s usually the mad fucker—the unknown variable in any equation—and he full well uses it to his advantage. Now he can’t help but feel like the tables are turning and he’s about to fall victim to his own game.

“Who’s this?” Thomas stops in the doorway and looks her over, his eyes lingering far too fucking long in Alfie’s opinion.

“Well, that’s none of your fucking business, innit? So how ‘bout you take a seat or fuck off.”

The two men exchange stares before moving to sit at opposite sides of the desk. Thomas withdraws a cigarette from his jacket pocket, rolling it once across his lips before lighting it. Alfie responds by leaning back in his chair with his hands resting on his stomach, the picture of casual indifference.

Livy watches the stand-off with mirth in her eyes, but keeps a straight face and avoids attracting attention. At least for now.

“Well, I've heard very bad, bad, bad things about you Birmingham people. You're gypsies, right? So what, do you live in a fucking tent or a caravan?”

“I came here to discuss business, Mr Solomons.”

“Right, well!” Alfie claps his hands, the noise echoing across the room. “Rum's for fun and fucking—“

To Alfie’s horror, he’s interrupted by a fucking giggle. Thomas whips his head around, and both men stare as Livy presses her hand to her mouth in a failed attempt at controlling her laughter.

“I’m sorry gentlemen, please ignore me. It’s just that …” she trails off for a moment, nearly regaining her composure, before giving up and breaking into giggles all over again. “It’s just that I really fucking love rum. So what do you think that says about me?”

Christ. Alfie tries to hide his shock at the words spilling from her mouth. He should be annoyed, angry even—because this is business, innit? He waits, almost expectantly, but his infamous temper fails to make an appearance. Instead, the curve of his lips betrays his amusement, and he swears he can hear William laughing in his ear.

“She’s one of a fucking kind mate”.

That cheeky bugger is clearly taunting him from beyond the grave. But there’s work to be done, so he pulls himself together and darts his eyes at Thomas, assessing the situation.

The smaller man gives nothing away, his face expressionless, but Alfie feels certain that he’s thrown by the redhead. She’s a wild card, and in that moment, he decides the best move is to include her in his hand. After all, a madwoman in the company of the Mad Baker can only bolster his reputation.

“Well pet, I’m not sure what it says about you. But considering the contents of those barrels out there—“, he grins and points a thick finger towards the door. “I’d say I’m a lucky fucking man, yeah?”

Then he winks and Livy is practically preening with delight. Thomas, on the other hand, remains stoic, inhaling deeply from his cigarette, so Alfie sighs inwardly and continues to play the game.

“But whiskey, yeah.” He slowly reaches for his drawer, eyes never leaving Thomas as he removes a bottle and two glasses. “That is for business.”

“Let's talk first, eh?”

Alfie considers the man for a moment, running his hand down his chin, before slowly returning the bottle.

“Suit yourself.”

He gives his beard another stroke before suddenly leaning forward and cocking a brow. “They say you had your life saved by a policeman”, he remarks in a conspiratorial tone, with a twinge of poorly concealed disgust in his voice.

Yet again, they’re interrupted by a fit of giggles from across the room, but this time Alfie leans back, folding his arms across his broad chest, and waits patiently.

“You right there, love?”

Feeling encouraged by his attention, Livy decides to leave the sofa. She walks across the room before coming to rest behind Alfie. After placing a small hand on his shoulder, she leans down and whispers loudly, “How do you think he looks in the mirror each morning knowing he owes his life to a fucking pig?”

Yet another string of giggles escape from her cherry red lips, and somehow, she manages to look hopelessly innocent and desperately wicked at the same time.

Alfie makes a mental note to go temple and thank god for whatever the fuck is happening right now. He’s usually good at reading people, but he’s still not sure about her. Is this tiny woman purposely trying to aggravate Thomas fucking Shelby? Or is she truly unafraid to speak her mind, making her a rare creature indeed.

He thinks back to William and his fucking stories and concedes that there must be some element of truth to it all, but just how much remains to be seen.

Either way, there’s just something so fucking precious about the way she carries herself, and it triggers something primal in him. He wants to fucking devour her, protect her, and worship her. He’s never felt like this before but it’s un-fucking-deniable, and it only gets worse every time she opens her beautiful mouth. He’s desperate to get her alone but unfortunately, he has to deal with this fucker first.

As if on cue, Thomas interrupts his thoughts. He gives Livy a piercing look (which makes Alfie want to punch him in the fucking face) before replying, “I have policemen on my payroll.”

“Well, I don't like policemen because policemen, they can't be trusted.”

“Mr Sabini uses policemen all the time. That's why he's winning the war in London and you are losing it.”

“A war ain't over until it's over, mate.” Alfie scoffs. Fucking hell, this lad needs it all spelled out, don’t he? But if it’s a show he wants, it’s a show he’ll fucking get.

“I once carried out my own personal form of stigmata on an Italian.” Alfie moves his large hands theatrically as he continues. “I pushed his face up against the trench and shoved a six-inch nail up his fucking nose, and I hammered it home with a duckboard.”

He pauses to glance at Livy, taking note of the fire in her golden eyes, before returning his attention to Thomas.

“It was fucking biblical, mate. So don't come in here and sit there in my chair and tell me that I'm losing my war to a fucking wop.”

“That war was a long time ago. You need to be more realistic.”

“Realistic, yeah? Realistic?”

“Well, if you weren't losing the war, then you wouldn't have sent me the telegram.”

Fucking hell. This cunt is testing his already limited patience. “Really? You forget your fucking telegram. The telegram just said, "Hello."

Alfie wags his fingers mockingly, and this seems to amuse Livy because she joins in, scrunching her tiny fucking button nose and waving her little fingers with glee.

But then her mood takes a sudden turn. With a slight pout, she turns to Alfie and whines, “This man is such a bore. What on earth does he want?”

Alfie looks at Thomas and barks, “You heard the lady. Get to the fucking point.”

“We join forces.”

“Fuck off. No! Categorical.” Of course, Alfie is a businessman and he’s open to any deal that benefits him (which is why he sent the fucking telegram). But he continues with his mock outrage. “Fucking ridiculous.”

Thomas proceeds to argue his case, blabbering on about percentages and what not. But Alfie’s not paying attention because Livy is running her fingers through his hair, her nails gently massaging his scalp, and he finds it fucking hard to concentrate.

He just manages to pick up on something the other man says about “trust” and “protection”, which reminds him …

“Oi, you're the bloke who shot Billy Kimber, right? You did, you fucking shot him. That's you.” Alfie growls accusingly, “You fucking betrayed him, mate.”

Livy shakes her head disapprovingly and clucks her tongue like a governess scolding her disobedient charge. Alfie snorts at her response, but Thomas ignores them both and continues with his well-rehearsed speech.

“I can offer you a hundred good men. All with weapons. And a new relationship with the police.”

Alfie slides his hand along Livy’s hip, his fingers lightly skimming the deep green silk, before casually reaching around her ample bottom to retrieve his gun from inside the desk.

“Intelligence”, he murmurs, “Intelligence is a very valuable thing, innit, my friend? And usually it comes far too fucking late.”

After sharing that delightful pearl of wisdom, Alfie raises his arm and calmly points the gun at Thomas, aiming directly between his pale blue eyes.

Livy, to her credit, seems completely unfazed by the weapon and the implied threat of violence accompanying it. So Alfie decides to drag out the theatrics a bit longer.

“Let's say that I shot you already, right, in the fucking face. And the bullet goes bone, mush, bone, cabinet over there.” Alfie waves the gun vaguely in the direction of the opposite wall. “Which is a shame, innit, 'cause that cabinet's fucked now and I got to get rid of it.”

“Oh Alfie, that would be a shame, darling. What a lovely cabinet.” Livy shakes her head, a forlorn look on her face like her favourite cat has just fucking died.

“It is, love, a right shame,” Alfie mutters consolingly before turning his attention back to Thomas.

“So, what I'd do is this… It's fucking simple, mate. I cut that cabinet in half, don't I? And I take one half of the cabinet and I put it into a barrel, and I take the other half of the cabinet and all its pieces and I put that into another barrel, right?”

Livy is so close now that she’s practically on his lap, hanging onto every word spilling from his dumb fucking mouth. He’s just talking shite now, but for some bizarre reason, she seems to be enjoying herself—and who is he is to deny a beautiful woman? (And if he can fuck with Thomas Shelby while doing it, well, that’s just the cherry on top, innit?)

“So I send this barrel off to Mandalay. And the other barrel off to somewhere like... I don't know… Timbuktu. You ever been?”

“No,” deadpans Thomas.

“No? Would you like to go?”

Livy interrupts before Thomas can respond. “Oh YES, darling! This world is far too wonderful to stay in one place, don’t you think? I hear they have camels, which are like horses with giant humps! Can you even imagine? Although I wouldn’t like to travel in a barrel, thank you very much.”

And with that, Alfie fucking loses it. He puts down the gun and gives into temptation, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her the last few inches onto his lap. He’s still utterly and totally mystified by her—she might be genuinely fucking insane—but he’s not afraid to find out.

He just needs to get Thomas fucking Shelby out of his office because he’s had enough of this cunt to last a lifetime.

“Alright, mate. You caught me in a fucking agreeable mood. Tell us your plan.”

— • — • —

A deal is done in record fucking time, neither man keen to spend longer in the other’s company than absolutely necessary.

But now business is the last thing on Alfie’s mind, as the door slams shut and they’re finally alone.

He glances down at Livy, who is still perched invitingly on his lap. She fingers the well-worn fabric of his white cotton shirt before nervously pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, showing the first signs of insecurity since arriving on his doorstep.

Her thighs are mere fucking inches from his aching cock, and he can’t remember ever needing a woman so desperately. Every fibre of his being is begging him to pull her closer—but then he remembers what brought her here in the first fucking place.

She’s here because she needs help, you fucking bastard.

This bright, beautiful woman comes to him in her time of need, and he puts her in a room with two of Britain’s most dangerous men.

Alfie drags a rough hand down his face before slipping an arm under her knees, lifting her from his lap. He places her down gently on the edge of his desk, before settling in his chair, pushing back until she’s just out of reach.

“Alright pet, that was quite a show. I can see you’re a big girl, yeah? But I think it’s ‘bout time for a chat, love, don’t you think?”

A/N This chapter is clearly a reimagining of the scene where Alife and Thomas meet in season 2, episode 2 of Peaky Blinders. After this, most of the story will be non-cannon and I won’t be recycling so much of the original script.

#livy x alfie #alfie solomons #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders alfie #Alfie x original character #peaky blinders fandom #tom hardy #tom hardy fic #tom hardy fanfiction #alfie solomons fanfic

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