#it was also my mistake to keep answering asks after my initial surprise of the situation so i apologize

[femmesandhoney]

i will not be responding to any asks about ashley (or hayley) about this situation any further in respect of ashley explaining to me her feelings and thoughts and asking me to delete the asks. whoever has been sending her harassment as well is not welcome on this blog, you're a piece of shit honestly. i respect ashley and do not condone that behavior, nor the behavior of whoever keeps sending anons to users about her obsessively.

#i don't feel anyone here is entitled to her personal thoughts or feelings no matter how much you may have had a parasocial relationship #but just know she's asked that these rumors stop spreading especially since you weirdo anons are literally spreading misinfo #that's all imma share for now please have some respect for her and respect her ask for privacy in her life #it was also my mistake to keep answering asks after my initial surprise of the situation so i apologize

[pelleas-at-castle-nox]

I'm surprised I haven't really seen anybody talking about the food sourcing theme in dungeon meshi. Like, the very first thing it made me think about when I started reading the manga was like "oh yeah, this really makes you think about food, where it comes from, the work needed to create enough food for one person, let alone a small group, to eat comfortably and nutritiously. Laios even specifically calls out that 'regular' food is also made using shit and dirt, intentionally grounding it in reality and subtly asking the reader to introspect on the food they eat and where it comes from."

Like, it's fair to say kui has the old "world builder's" spirit, it's easy to extrapolate a whole world when you're willing to both ask "how does x mundane task work?" And being willing to give it as fanciful or grounded an answer as you feel is appropriate, food is the central theme, but that sort of thinking extends to every corner of the lore and world building where you can practically begin to trace back a lot of world elements to these basic questions, like "what would happen if there were people who lived for 500 years, what would happen if you fought a creature with two heads" and I think that's really cool-

But like, that core question "where does the food that sustains you come from" is like such a relevant question that we should all be asking ourselves. I suppose it's just that I think about that often, both when I'm world building, and in modern and historical contexts.

In a lot of ways it's alienation of labor, most USAmericans (to keep it at least slightly contained in scope) don't get to know where any of the food they eat actually comes from. At best, you might buy your own groceries and maybe even be able to google some information as to the conditions at the place this food was grown, maybe you're lucky/resourced enough to grow some of your own food in like a garden. At worst you get your food premade and prepackaged and you're even completely divorced from the preparation aspect.

A major symptom of this is clearly shown in dungeon meshi's opening and especially in kabru shuro and even the canaries: when food is taken for granted, it becomes easy to neglect. The party initially wiped simply because they'd not considered how suicidal it was to press onward while exhausted, Kabru is so dissociated and focused that he shuts out most of his own biological signifiers of hunger, Shuro starves himself, equating food with leisure instead of a vital practice to sustain life and energy, and of course there's mister no desires.

It's no mistake that in all of the above cases, it's seemed to be heavily implied that food is either an after thought, or someone else's responsibility, or a simple logistical concern. Senshi's whole rant (in volume 1!!) about "oh the youths of today just buying prepackaged meat wine and bread" is especially tied in to this main theme of "do you know where your food comes from?" By taking it to the next level and asking "do you know why you're eating what you're eating?"

To take a personal side tangent, I was recently diagnosed as diabetic, and it's completely changed my relationship to food on a pretty fundamental level, but I'd say I'd always had a pretty good and healthy relationship with food (after I stopped having an eating disorder but that's a story for another day) so it was an easy enough adjustment to have to start actually thinking about how much of my diet was carbs and things like that, it just became a matter of considering what I was eating and when and why. I'm still not perfect at it and it's still a learning process but I'm working on it.

Anyways, my main theory as to why I've not seen it being pontificated on is just that in general people really hate being asked "do you know what you're eating?" Around these parts in a general fashion, but like, especially with weaponized starvation going on and very real issues of things like food desserts in America, and the fact that we all have to pay for just about every little meal, I think it's important for leftists to contemplate the political implications of meals.

An army runs on its stomach after all. Rant over

#dungeon meshi #rant #rambling #i mostly just wanted to talk about the whole #“where does the food you eat come from?” #question cause i think people just dont discuss the actual logistics of food #like meat is so crazy it takes so many resources to produce #an meat

[komotionlessqueenmm]

freya learning she is a grandmother. (Baldur daughter)

I included before and after scenarios of Baldur and Freyas falling out, because I couldn't resist lol.

Headcanon/Preference # 16

Picture NOT mine.

| Before the falling out |

• So if this happens before she casts her spell to protect her son...

• She will make an even worse mistake.

• You're so little and frail, so sweet and beautiful. A true gem to the realms, and the fruit of Baldurs light.

• So in order to protect you, she impulsively casts the spell over you instead of her son.

• She was ecstatic to be a grandmother, and to care for you whenever you're father would allow her to.

• She thought she was doing a good thing by casting her protection spell over you.

• But when she comes to realize the repercussions of her actions... The side affects the spell had on you.

• She felt horrible, and tried her best to keep it from Baldur, fearing he would keep you from her.

• That didn't last long, he knew you so well already, and the moment he realized you no longer cared to eat anything, though the lack of nourishment never seemed to harm you.

• And you no longer reacted when he blew raspberries onto your pudgy little tummy, something that used to put you into a fit of giggles so strong you often spit up a bit.

• He immediately sought out healers to make sure you were not ill.

• And when he learned it was magic... Vanir magic... He immediately turned to his mother, accusing her of all sorts of horrible things.

• She tried to defend herself, and tried to make him understand that she was only trying to protect you.

• But her pleas fell on deaf ears.

• In Baldur's eyes, she had betrayed him in the worst possible way, she had cursed his child, his only child.

• He would never forgive her for this, and if he were strong enough, he'd have killed her for it.

• Baldur's light grew dark, but never against you, his little shining star.

• And he swore that no matter what it took, he'd find a way to reverse this, even if that meant traveling to unknown worlds.

• Even if he had to fight dragons, trolls, giants, or ogres with his bare hands, or even burn worlds to ash and ruin, he'd find a way.

• You were still a babe when she was cast out, and you don't actually remember her, but you do remember the lullaby she used to hum to you.

| After the falling out |

• She never knew about you until Atreus mentioned the young god/goddess traveling with Baldur.

• She tried to subtly ask Atreus about you, and with how close he describes your relationship, she initially assumes you're a lover.

• Desperate to know more she scours Midgard for more answers, and is astonished to find you are in fact Baldur's child.

• She's hurt that she was never told about your birth, or that she was there to watch you grow.

• She's also honestly surprised Odin didn't rub the news in her face, considering everything else he's done to her.

• Now that she knows about you, she's desperate to meet you. Even so desperate to go to Mímir for advice on how she could cross paths with you.

• And eventually that time comes, and you meet her while scouting for your father. Which is probably ideal considering he'd freak out if he knew.

• You're admittedly confused when this strange woman begins talking to you as if she'd known you your whole life.

• "Look at how beautiful you've become." She beamed. "You have your father's eyes." Her own eyes glossed over.

• "Do I know you?" You questioned, your hand placed on the hilt of your sword, unsure if you could trust this woman.

• She notices your unease, and hold her hands up a little to show you she means no harm. "I'm afraid not, but I know you."

• "Who are you?" You demanded with a growing fire in your eyes, it's then she realizes you've inherited not only your father's rage and distrust, but his father's as well.

• "I am your grandmother Freya." She explains with a sad smile, wishing she could embrace you in a warm and reassuring hug.

• You scowl in return. "You're the reason my father suffers." You hiss with venom, and she wondered for a moment if you'd kill her for it.

• She bowed her head in shame, you'd probably never understand her side of the story, as your father had clearly ingrained his side into your mind.

• "You better hope father doesn't find you. He intends on killing you if he ever does." You warned before stalking away, vanishing before she could stop you.

• She felt even worse now, than she had when she first found out about you.

• Because now she had met you, and she knew you cared not for her, you didn't sympathize with her.

• You merely pitted her, and that hurt so much more, than if you had outright hatted her.

#headcanon #extended #reader insert #baldur #god of war baldur #god of war #god of war imagine #God of War headcanon #baldur headcanon #gow baldur #baldur imagine #baldur x reader #gow #gow imagine #gow x reader #gow headcanon #preference #freya #freya x reader #Freya headcanon #God of war Freya #gow Freya

[scarfacemarston]

saw your post saying that you want ideas for Fenris, so here's my 5 cents;

You know the romance ending for Fenris? Whenever I see it and I hear Varric say "a hero was born" for some reason that makes me think that it is giving us the idea that Fenris has become a dad, soooooo, any thoughts on Fenris as a dad?

Have a good day/night

Hey! I LOVE that idea. Seriously, that is so heartwarming to think of. It's been months since I've written hc and I've never written for Fenris before, but I hope you like it! I have bonus hc's from the crew below the cut. Background: Despite being together for over several years since Act 3 and the fact that they might as well have been married, Varric and crew still found themselves surprised to hear that Fenris and Hawke were pregnant/adopting. "Broody with a Broody Jr on the way? I knew it'd happen at some point; you owe me 50 coppers, Rivani."

If pregnant - Hawke was initially worried Fenris would leave them because of their first night together, but he had proven himself loyal to a fault numerous times, the thought thankfully disrupted quickly.

Fenris is the worrying warrior until after the baby is born, or if adopting, til they bring them home.  His mind is always going a mile a minute risk calculation and problem-solving for things that haven't yet happened. Hawke has to get him to snap out of it. He's extremely attentive partially because he tries to think about any possible situation and discomfort and how to avoid it. If Hawke is pregnant, he's ready, whether through ginger tea, soothing balms, hot towels, massages, craving outings, you name it.

It's not original, but the baby would definitely be named Bethany, Leandra, or Malcolm if it's a son. With adoption, he feels a little more in control. (I love the idea of Fenris having a daughter, so that's what I'm using her. Feel free to hc differently!)

The baby loves his voice. Adores it. She perks up whenever Fenris speaks, even if it's the quietest of murmurs or humming. Fenris would talk to the baby if his partner is pregnant, calming her down, especially if she starts kicking.  

He doesn't mind getting up in the middle of the night to take care of her. He's lived on such little sleep before, but this was something worth it. He sometimes likes the quiet to reflect on his new life and gaze at the miracle in his arms.

Fenris has to be reminded to put her down sometimes so Hawke can hold her ---then Hawke has to be reminded to put down the baby so they can get work done.

Definitely lots of story time together and time spent reading books together. 

He wants his child to be curious about the world and not be afraid to question why things are the way they are. He encourages her to ask difficult questions, even if it's something he doesn't always want to answer. He will try to answer in an age-appropriate manner anyhow.

Incredibly protective. He never thought he'd have a family, and now he has someone who depends on him more than anything. He is never far from her; if he can't chase after them, she's in a playpen where he can keep watch. However, he also tells himself that falling and making mistakes is okay. Scratched knees or messes are to be expected. Fenris becomes very good at toeing the line between being protective and allowing her to pick herself up and figure out solutions "by herself." (Of course, he'll still be there to kiss it better or give her a boost.)

He and Hawke agree that they'd rather gift her love and time than gifts.

Somehow, Fenris has ended up with an extra Malbari, 2 cats, and a goat as pets.

He teaches her a lot of skills, Lots of nature excursions, and teaches her things like navigation, plant identification, starting a fire, and helping her learn a language. 

He and Hawke agree to teach her self-defense once she's old enough. He's a firm & thorough but patient teacher.

He and Hawke believe she should do whatever she pleases with her body. Does she want long-flowing hair? He'll show off his braiding skills. Does she want chopped hair like FemHawke? Done. 

If she turns out to be a mage, Fenris would accept it. He would know that was a possibility whether she was biologically theirs - because of Hawke's mage line or, if adopted, that it is a randomized gene. He would be lying if he didn't think their lives would be easier if she wasn't a mage - but that is because he is worried for her and the current politics - not so much because of his past treatment of mages. It would take him a little time to process it, but he would love her just the same……….he only hopes that Hawke or one of their friends can help with the magic because turning the floor into an ice rink or the smell of burnt hair can only be tolerated for so long.

Bonus:

The Hawke crew isn't always around, but I like to hear them stay in touch and visit. Maybe they still travel together. I hated the idea of them breaking up.

Varric has most definitely written a few adventures with her in mind - one being a talking animal version of Hawke's adventures. Another about griffons and another about malbari adventurers.

Merrill brings the sweetest gifts and loves telling stories and taking her foraging. Flower crowns are a must.

Isabela develops a liking for stuffed plushies. It started with a stuffed parrot, and before they knew it, the bed was crowded with stuff like Malbari, parrots, griffon, cats, and whatever she could find. Isabela also gives her her first pirate sword. Baby Hawke loves her jewelry.

Aveline - mage or not - offers to train her in combat. Of course, Hawke laughs and says, "She's a baby. I think she's fine for now." She'd offer to babysit - Hawke having a child really has her curious about starting her own family with Donnic when they can find the time. Donnic makes her a set of cards so she can "play" diamondback with them.

Anders offers medical care if he is around and also offers to tutor her in magic - but I think we all know what Fenris' thoughts on that would be. Still, Fenris would begrudgingly be thankful for any care he provided.

#fenris x hawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris x m!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #Dragon age Fenris #fenris dragon age #marian hawke #garrett hawke #varric tethras #dragon age isabela #dragon age merrill #aveline vallen #dragon age anders #da2 #dragon age 2

[space-blue]

Hi, I'm not sure if you've talked about this before and it might be silly to ask this, but I'm curious about your opinion:

There was a scene that surprised me quite a bit in episode 6 when Vi escapes. Initially, Silco was sitting calmly, and then boom! Everything explodes. It's understandable, but it's strange because Silco has always reacted in a cautious and calm manner, except for one time in episode 3 when he was talking to Vander. After that, he has been someone who knows how to stay calm. I've seen people say that Silco's reaction is because he's a megalomaniac who doesn't like anything being out of his control, but I don't think that's the case. I think it's something more complex. I see Silco as someone who internalizes everything to maintain control or appears to have it, keeping his thoughts and emotions to himself. That's why you see Silco exhaling or releasing tension before and after meeting with his associates, but I might be wrong. Anyway, I'd like to know what you think is the reason for Silco's actions.

And I'm sorry if I made a mistake in my grammar, I don't speak English very well

Hello anon! Thank you for reaching out and asking me this question... It sends me back to my Arcane meta days with a big smile on my face.

But honestly, I don't know who looks at Silco in that episode, having finished the story, and thinks he screams because he's megalomaniac. Not only does this not go with the rest of his character, it just fails to comprehend his character arc.

Silco doesn't want power. He wants freedom, and he wants his mission to realise itself. Silco has more of a religious fervour to him. He's a zealot. He speaks of the 'Nation of Zaun' with an air of rapture. He believes it, lives only for it. Just because we may not like his ways doesn't change that. I mean look at this guy :

#fully lost in the sauce

A character who really wants power would be Finn. We see him fallen to the trappings of wealth, plotting to uproot Silco from his position. Finn never shows any care for the cause. He only cares about supplanting Silco.

If Silco truly cared about power, then why is he still leaving down deep, on top of a night club? If he's a megalomaniac, why are his list of conditions for Jayce not covering him, but demanding amnesty for his people and equal access to the Gate for commerce?

No. Silco isn't a megalomaniac. He definitely wants to be in control, but that's hardly surprising for a leader. We also only ever know Silco at crazy important moments of his life, where his plans are running wildly or exploding in his face. It's not exactly every day Silco.

Most of the people we see him interacting with also tell us things : of course he needs to be ruthless and in control while facing Marcus. That man would lash out at the slightest show of weakness. Same with the other chembarons, who actively turn on him after the factory attack (that makes him look weak).

Silco isn't a control freak to be a jackass. He's like that because he's a Zaunite, and a Zaunite in a dangerous position of power. He's shaped by his environment too.

Anyway, why does he lose his cool in episode 6?

It's actually a very short answer! It's because of Jinx.

Jinx is his everything. Across my many meta posts I covered how codependent they are. How she physically abuses him, yet he never reaches out with any force towards her. The most violent he is, is after she nearly ruined his life plans and won't listen, and all he does is snatch a pen from her hand to make her pay attention.

They exchange caresses, rest against each other. He keeps her gifts on his official desk and actively uses them. And in the end, he can't accept her mortality, and sacrifices everything he's suffered and fought for his entire sad, fucking miserable life, because he loves her more than his cause.

So why does Silco lose it? Because Vi is alive, Vi is looking for Jinx, and Vi is the only person who could actively take Jinx away from him.

I mean like a day or two prior Jinx lost her shit and nearly killed Sevika because she saw a pink haired girl. Silco takes her to the pilt to try and soothe her and put her demons behind her, the only way he knows how. And then she happily gets to work! She's doing well!

But Silco isn't dumb. He knows Jinx is unstable and unpredictable. And finding Sevika hung like a ham from the ceiling? With a broken arm? Yeah, he knows she knows, and she's pissed... And he KNOWS that he just told her that VI IS DEAD. Which he 100% believed! Since when Sevika tell him about Vi being back he's like "From the dead???" in total horror and disbelief.

Marcus completely blindsided him, and it's a race against time now.

A race in which if Vi lives and finds Jinx... His Jinx, the only person he thinks he has... The girl he loves more than his cause, even if he hasn't fully realised it yet... Might hate him. She might decide to leave him.

Then he'd be alone again. And uhm... IDK if you all noticed but like... Silco isn't exactly a picture of clean mental health either. He's trauma ridden, set in very harsh ways, and has a solid spark of paranoia (which has kept him alive, but also isolated).

So the Silco screaming and spitting and kicking is a Silco who thinks that potentially everything will be fucked up now. He's stressed about the developing situation (the one where he asked his unstable daughter to basically make a nuke with stolen uranium, while juggling an increasingly strained sheriff and actively traitorous colleagues), AND the potential idea of his ONE person, his one broken, fucked up, twisted emotional bond, potentially being ripped from him.

Last time that happened, Vander was trying to drown him.

So he's just in a Bad Place™️

Cut the poor man some slack ahaha. I think it's normal that the mask finally cracks and reveals his emotions.

Silco isn't a cold character! His speech to Vander shows his zealotry and his passion! He has a dark humour too, and is aggressive and bitter when cornered. Silco wears a mask of cool professionalism when it's convenient, which is very often, as a leader in the undercity. But he also shows lots of emotions whenever suits.

I don't think you can be a cold character and stay riveted on your insane freedom fight for like 20+ years. He's got a big fire burning in there, and the scene in episode 6 is the proof of how hot it gets when he thinks he's about to lose it all. All your examples of him 'reining it in' are great too! He clearly has strong emotions. He just manages them a lot.

I hope this answers your question! AAaaaahhhh look at me, I just went and gushed, didn't I?

Thanks a lot Anon. And your English is better than some native speakers I know, so don't worry! <3

#thank you anon #silco #arcane #arcane silco #arcane meta #it's been a while #he just came out of his little office in the back of my brain #strutting out being like #somebody called? #jinx #arcane vi #silco and jinx

[acourtofthought]

Gwynriel Stuff

Gwyn asked, on Nesta’s other side, “Do you have them often?” “Yes.” Nesta finished a sit-up, grunting through the weakness in her middle. “Me too,” Gwyn said quietly. “Some nights, I need a sleeping potion from our healer to knock me out.”

"I wish I could" he answered silently. But sleep so rarely found him these days.

They both struggle to sleep and would both find peace at night together which he already found a little bit of on the rooftop that night 🥹

Also, is it just me or does it seem like the shadows tried to prevent Az from making the mistake he did with Elain while trying to encourage him to spend more time with Gwyn?

Azriel snickered to himself, to the listening shadows around him. "Sleep, they seemed to whisper in his ear. Sleep"

But Az ignored the shadows, staying by the fireplace longer ("he knew he'd be swallowed by it if he went up to his bedroom, so he remained down here by the dying light of the fire") until he eventually left which is when he ran into Elain. Had he listened to the shadows in the first place, the situation with Elain and Rhys would have never happened, preventing Az from feeling even worse than he originally did. They knew when she returned to her room which to me means they also knew she was awake and the shadows may have encouraged Az to leave before anything more happened.

But where they initially encouraged him to sleep, they no longer seemed all that worried about it when they were "content to lounge on his shoulders to watch" Gwyn, after that restless feeling inside of Az settled.

The shadows seem to sense what Az needs while Az ignores their advice which isn't that surprising when you look back at Azriel's history and his refusal to listen to anyone who tells him what to do, even if it's the smart thing:

Azriel had sealed them in, and as his scarred hands wrapped around Eris’s throat, Rhys said, “Enough.” Azriel squeezed, Eris thrashing beneath him. No physical brawling—there had been a rule against that, but Azriel, with whatever power those shadows gave him … “Enough, Azriel,” Rhys ordered. Azriel dug his knee—and all his weight—into Eris’s gut. He was silent, utterly silent as he ripped the air from Eris’s body. “Call off your overgrown bat,” Beron ordered Rhys.

“I’m going in,” Azriel said. “No,” Rhys snapped. But Azriel was spreading his wings, the sunlight so stark on the new, slashing scars down the membrane. “Chain me to a tree, Rhys,” Azriel said softly. “Go ahead.” He began checking the buckles on his weapons. “I’ll rip it out of the ground and fly with it on my damned back.”

“I want to confirm that Briallyn has the Crown,” Azriel said. “I’ll travel to the human lands tomorrow.” “No,” Feyre and Rhys said at the same time, in the same breath. Azriel’s eyes shuttered. “I wasn’t asking for permission.” Rhys smirked. “Doesn’t matter.” Az opened his mouth to object, but Feyre said, “You’re not going, Azriel. “Give me some credit, Feyre,” Az said. “I can keep hidden well enough.” “We take no risks,” Feyre said, voice flat with command. “Pull all your spies out.” “Like hell I will.”

I have hope we'll soon be entering an era of Az making smarter choices though, we get the first hints that he can learn to respect the chain of command:

The High Lord and High Lady of the Night Court had faced off against the shadowsinger this afternoon, and emerged triumphant. Perhaps triumphant wasn’t the right word, but the argument had ended with Azriel grudgingly agreeing not to spy on Briallyn for the time being—and brooding all through dinner.

And he only went near Briallyn to retrieve Eris when Feyre and Rhys allowed it:

Az said, “We have to get him out.” Cassian drew up short. “We?” Rhys stepped up next to Azriel, Feyre beside him. A formidable wall. “We can’t go,” Feyre said, nodding to Rhys.“You and Azriel need to retrieve Eris.” “Why not you?” Feyre pinched the bridge of her nose. “Because Amren is …” “Powerless,” Amren snarled. “You can say it, girl.” Feyre winced. “Mor left for Vallahan this morning and is out of our daemati magic’s range. Az can’t go in alone. We need you, Cassian.”

Which also means Rhys ordering him to stay away from Elain when Az couldn't convince him that he had actual feelings for her won't necessarily result in Az disobeying him as some think.

#pro gwynriel #gwynriel #azriel acosf #gwyn acosf

[sunwukongssuccessor]

You have a very good understanding of Sun Wukong and Macaque, I can tell by how amazing your writing is! Have your ever thought about doing a character analysis of those two? I’m asking because I have ideas for LMK fics and wanted to try and keep them as in character as possible and something like that would help me and a lot of other writers out there!

Anonymous asked: Sorry for not being specific! If my request is too intimidating please don’t push yourself to do it! As for specifics in the character analysis of the monkeys I guess maybe a dive into their surface level personality versus true personalities, their relationship with each other and MK, and their moral compasses? I hope that helps! You can take those as you will. If you don’t want to do all of that just do what you do want to do. Thank you!

It's no problem, I'm sorry that I took so long to answer and even then it still feels kind of vague.

I think the first way of getting to understand a character is getting a grasp of how they speak, both Wukong and Macaque speak pretty casually (one of the first things that Macaque says is "Your staff kind of gives you away, dude."), as well as clear and confident. I think it helps that I can memorize and hear voices in my head so that helps in me finding a way for them to stay in character and pick what sounds most accurate, but I know that doesn't apply to everyone.

Wukong, despite how he tries to play the role of retired goofball in the beginning, being somewhat indifferent about stuff like MK's training, but he actually cares to the point it's almost self-destructive. He doesn't want MK to worry about the Lady Bone Demon, so he lies about searching for a way to defeat her as a vacation of all things. He doesn't want people to get hurt from his mistakes and such so he wants to take the brunt of it but because he didn't try asking for help/support it kind of blows up in his face and makes it worse in the long run.

Macaque is opportunistic, something of a snark about it too. ("Also, side-note: How did you not know it was me? Shadows, kinda my gimmick isn't it?") He's not just dramatic, he's downright theatrical given the shadow play episode, he didn't have to keep doing more than one show after capturing MK's friends and even points out that MK went to multiple shows with saying "Ah, you again. You must be my biggest fan." but he still took it as a chance for the attention as well as be heard in his past as indirectly as he tried to play it off before the reveal. He craves the acknowledgement and probably more.

An interesting thing I noticed with Wukong in his interactions with MK is that he's the one usually initiating physical contact with him. (Sure, some of it is a bit of invading his space but that's just kind of how he is considering he's a monkey.)

Anyone else is kind of unwelcomed(?) in the space if he doesn't really like them or know them that well, he's even surprised by the affection from MK in the episode "Destiny Fulfilled" for a hot second until it settles.

With Macaque and his interactions with people from conversation to touch, something I noticed in the split second he meets MK, he sees him up close with admiration of all things as is shocked by it for before settle back. After agreeing to mentor MK, he's starts initiating physical contact as a way to seem all buddy-buddy with him, almost like they're on equal ground despite the newly formed mentorship.

After what's probably a few weeks into the training, the physical contact is less soft, almost holding MK down instead of being a support to pushing MK into a losing battle until literally punching the Monkey King's powers out of him. Physical touch was used on his terms and for his gain.

When he does a similar arm hold on Tang in "Benched" when trying to appeal to Tang in giving up and letting him get a Ring of Samadhi, he even projects his relationship with Wukong onto the whole group before acting out when it doesn't work.

Their moral compasses are pretty different, Wukong trying hard in helping MK as well as the world with it, Macaque being that he looks out for himself since that's all he has. Wukong has many enemies but that doesn't mean the world is and tries to act sweet with Ao Guang like he's a bud and totally didn't steal the pillar to his palace and made it a staff.

Macaque has to look out for himself, sees himself as the only one he can trust, all others be damned. ("Look out for number one, because if you don't, no one will.") Even if Macaque has a soft spot for someone (see MK) ("This is the thanks I get for checking in on my favorite student?" and "Hey kiddo, ya miss me?") he doesn't even see him as a potential ally, closer to amusement at best and enemy at worst. Macaque has far more enemies than allies (probably since he doesn't have any) and that reflects in how he practically hisses at the Mayor for giving him off vibes before even getting caught in the Lady Bone Demon's lackey's hold then taken hostage.

I'm sorry if this isn't the best analysis since it feels kind of all over the place but I hope it helps you in someway.

#LEGO Monkie Kid #Monkie Kid #Monkeying Around #Analysis #Asks

[sourw0lfs]

the very first night part two

OR: the one where Chrissy joins Corroded Coffin, a 5+1 fic wc: 1086 | rating: M | pairing: hellcheer | modern au | AO3 written for @strangerthingsreversebigbang art inspiration by @sunflowerharrington beta'd by @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

2. after the band gets signed

When Chrissy made the decision to join Corroded Coffin, something so far out of her comfort zone that it had initially felt like a mistake, she never anticipated actually getting anywhere. The only expectation on her list was: have fun. 

Sitting at a table far too large for the number of people at it now, she thinks she might have to reevaluate that list. It’s also the only time in her life she’s been glad her father is a lawyer. Mostly because none of them had been able to make heads or tails of the contract they’d been given, and Chrissy, at least, had given it her best shot. 

So she’d called home and asked for help. 

It’s a rare thing these days, her asking her parents for any sort of help, but this is something she wants to work out no matter what. It’s given her purpose in a way none of her other activities or hobbies growing up did. It’s given her people that she can’t imagine her future without in a way none of her friends in school ever had.

It’s made her happy, and if asking her dad to read a contract keeps it that way, it’s just a small sacrifice to make. 

The fact that he agrees initially surprises Chrissy, but she doesn’t question it. She just takes it for what it is, the pair of eyes they need to make sure they’re not getting screwed over. And as things turn out, they’re not getting screwed over. Sooner than later, the contract has all five of their signatures alongside the necessary parties and the band decides to go out and celebrate. 

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Jeff says as the five of them pile in around a table at the first bar they find. “Did we really just do that?” 

“Hell yeah we did!” Grant crows with the widest grin Chrissy’s ever seen on him. 

A familiar arm finds its home around her shoulder and she feels herself being jostled against Eddie’s side as he grins at all of them. “I always knew we could do it,” he announces proudly. “Just had to find the right lure.” 

He jostles Chrissy again, enough that she gets the hint he’s talking about her and she grins too. “This is just the start. We still have a lot of work to do,” she points out but the smile in her voice doesn’t fade. “There are no better people I’d rather do it with.” 

The rest of the band raises a collective cheer at her words. “I’ll drink to that,” Gareth declares. “First round on me.”

Then he’s gone before any of them can protest, not that any of them try to anyway. Chrissy takes the moment to look around at her bandmates, to feed off their infectious excitement and mix it with her own. It feels good, it feels right. She doesn’t know how she got so lucky. 

Eddie’s still pressing her into his side and she takes the chance to rest her head on his shoulder. “Comfy?” he asks as he glances down at her. 

Chrissy nods, grinning back up at him. “Perfect,” she confirms. 

Though she’s not sure she is actually perfect. Things could always be better. There are things she’s found herself yearning for in the last several months of gig after gig, words left unspoken and actions unexplained. But she’s never found just the right moment to ask Eddie about them. There’s always something going on or someone poking their head in every time she thinks they’re about to make it somewhere new. 

But Chrissy still can’t complain. Even if she never gets her answers, she thinks she can still be happy. Her life finally means something on her terms, and that’s more than she could have ever asked for. Especially since she hadn’t asked. It had simply been handed to her over an overheard moment in a hallway that feels a million years ago already. 

Gareth comes back with the round of drinks a moment later, and the rest of the night passes in a wild, excited, and somewhat tipsy blur. Chrissy finds herself pressing against Eddie’s side for the majority of the night, except the times he bounces away to grab the next round of drinks. The energy between the five of them is contagious and carries them well into the night. 

Stumbling out of the bar as a group several hours later, laughing and shoving at each other, the band finally say their good nights, grabbing various rides back to their homes depending on the direction they needed to go. 

“Let me take you home,” Eddie says in Chrissy’s ear as the other boys wave out of car windows. 

“We live in opposite directions!” Chrissy protests weakly, because honestly she doesn’t mind the sentiment. In fact, she appreciates it. 

“Gotta make sure my best girl gets home safe, though,” Eddie argues back. 

The words light up in Chrissy’s chest, somewhere between her heart and her stomach, with an intensity she’s missed recently. It pulls her back to the night of her first show, when she thought they were maybe at the start of something more. She doesn’t try to push it away again. 

Instead she just nods and tucks herself into Eddie’s side, waiting as he calls a ride for the two of them, only moving when he nudges her to get settled once it arrives. The ride to her place is quiet, comfortably so but there’s a spark trying to ignite in the air between them, even though the two of them aren’t touching anymore. 

Once they arrive, Chrissy gets herself from the car and hesitates. “Do you want to come in?” she asks softly, offering a hand back out to Eddie. 

Eddie, for what it’s worth, doesn’t seem to have the same hesitation, taking her hand with a smile. “I’d love that,” he tells her as they head into the building. 

It’s not the first time she’s had Eddie over, but it is the first time it’s just the two of them. Usually it’s the whole band, alternating homes each time they meet up. The electricity that’s been crackling between the two of them flares up with new life as they make their way to the door of Chrissy’s apartment. 

Once Chrissy lets the two of them in, she turns to Eddie. “Probably not up for more drinks, are you?” she teases with a smile. “But I can offer a snack or two or three, if you’d like that.”

“That sounds wonderful, dinner feels ages ago.”

“It was!” Chrissy giggles as she leads the way to her kitchen. 

The space is small, pressing the two of them together as they try to share it, but Chrissy doesn’t mind. She also doesn’t mind the silence that hangs between them again. Being able to be quiet feels just as important as being able to talk to them. Especially if it’s going to move anywhere besides friendship. And Chrissy thinks she wants that rather badly at this point. She really, really does. And it’s not the few drinks from the bar talking for her. 

The silence stretches between them, with Chrissy trying to work up the courage to say something or do something. But then Eddie’s glancing at the clock and back at her with a smile. “I should probably… head home myself. Don’t want to keep you up too late, you know?” he says. 

It’s nearly enough to get Chrissy inviting him to stay the night, but only nearly. She’s not sure she’s brave enough to make a move yet or brave enough to face the morning if nothing happens. “Yeah!” she agrees with a nod. “Yeah, uh, if you’re sure.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Eddie promises, tucking a piece of her hair back and sending a jolt down her whole body. 

Then he’s kissing her cheek and out the door before she even has a chance to process it. If she wasn’t already sure that Eddie feels the same energy she does, Chrissy is very sure now. 

#fox writes things #hellcheer #hellcheer fic #strangerthingsreversebigbang

[nekoannie-chan]

Secrets Chapter 2: The Beginning or The End of Everything?  part I

Pairing: Steve Rogers X OFC, Brock Rumlow X OFC.

Word count: 1095 words.

Summary: Sometimes keeping secrets can be dangerous or a heavy burden, which is what Kathleen has been doing for years. She will also be in charge of guiding Steve Rogers into this century; meanwhile, S.H.I.E.L.D. will be looking for a way to kick-start the Avengers Initiative by integrating her as one of the superheroes, but that won't be the only danger they face.

Warnings: Mutual pinning.

You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too.

A/N: After long time working on this longfic, I finally post it. If you wanna be added to the taglist, let me know.

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

I don’t give any kind of permission that my fics to be posted on other platforms or languages (I translate myself my work) or the use of my graphics (my dividers are included in this), I did them exclusively for my fics, please respect my work and don't steal it. There are some people here who make dividers that anyone can use, mine is not this type, please look for the other's people. The only exception is the ones I gifted 'cuz now belong to someone else. If you find any of my works on a different platform and are not one of my accounts, please let me know. Reblogs and comments are always welcome.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Marvel's characters (unfortunately), except for the original characters and the story.

Add yourself to my taglist here.

My other media where I publish:  Ao3, Wattpad, ffnet, TikTok, Instagram, Twitter. 

If you like it, please vote, comment, and give me feedback to improve my skills and reblog.

You can read it on Wattpad and Ao3 too. Secrets masterlist. Previous chapter. Next chapter.

The first thing Brock taught her was how to pilot one of the organization's ships. Kath was very surprised at all of his skills.

"After you set the coordinates, you press this button," he explained.

"Brockie, is there anything you don't know how to do?" she asked curiously.

"Create energy fields, move things with your mind, open portals, and read your mind," Brock replied, making her laugh.

"I think we make a good team," Kath said, doing what the other had instructed her to do.

Brock nodded with a smile and turned to see her. He liked that she was happy; he thought she was beautiful, and more so when she laughed. He wanted to kiss her, but it was not the best place, and he did not want them to have an accident.

For the next three months, Brock trained her in the gym in hand-to-hand combat, but he always tried not to hurt her to the extent that she thought he did not take her seriously.

"Brock, what's wrong with you? Do you think I'm weak or what?" she complained, annoyed.

"No, I just don't want to hurt you," Brock answered.

"In the missions, they won't care about that, if we don't train seriously, it won't do any good," Kath exploded as she threw a punch to provoke him, and he stopped her.

"I know, but I'm not going to let anyone hurt you and I don't want to hurt you," he approached her and caressed her cheek, "Come on, I'll buy you lunch," he invited her, and she accepted.

He couldn't stop thinking about her; after these months, he realized that he had fallen in love with her. Suni had told him to go on with his life, so the only thing he was worried about now was losing Kath.

One day he saw Kath chatting animatedly with Klein, and the first thing he thought was that the technician wanted something with her; he simply was not going to allow it; he would not let any agent, technician, or anyone flirt with her; somehow he was going to conquer her, and she was going to be his. When he saw the boy alone, he pulled him from behind, making him crash against the wall.

"What the hell were you doing with Kathleen?" Brock asked him angrily while threatening him with the gun.

"Nothing, we were talking about work "Cameron cowered while he avoided looking at the Commander, terror was invading him, he knew the least about handling weapons because his job didn't include missions or anything where he needed them, so he knew he had no chance against Brock, who was an expert in handling different weapons.

"You better not go near him or talk to him if it's not about work, or else you'll have to deal with me," Brock threatened as he put the gun closer to him.

"Yes, sir," the technician stammered, and Brock pushed him away.

Kathleen never found out what had happened; Cameron was too afraid of Brock, so he only talked to her about work. Rumlow, on the other hand, had to maintain a certain image with her, especially since he wouldn't tell her his big secret, for everyone's sake, especially hers, since she wasn't going to let Pierce hurt her.

They had already had several missions together, sometimes in conjunction with the STRIKE team or with other agents.

Brock loved spending time with Kath, and vice versa. Not to mention that Brock had been there at various times when she had needed him and the other way around. Brock knew everything about Kath, and Kath knew almost everything about Brock, except for one big secret he kept—something she couldn't find out.

Nevertheless, Jack realized the situation; Brock would be in trouble, but now his dilemma was whether to warn his friend or keep quiet.

"Are you okay?" Leah asked her brother.

"Yeah, I was just thinking," Jack replied, pretending not to care.

"I know you, and I know you're lying to me. Oh, I know! You're in love. "

"No, you're crazy; you'd better tell me, is your wheelchair fixed?" Jack tried to tell his sister as little as possible about his job; he didn't want to put her in any more danger.

"Well, it works well, can't you tell? But don't ignore me; who is she?"

Jack left the kitchen; he wouldn't explain himself, and besides, he still had to finish some documents he had been asked to finish, and later they had a meeting with Pierce.

"Hey, even if you walk fast, you know I'll catch up with you. Don't go, Jack; tell your sister; you're such an idiot that you'll ruin everything for sure. I can give you some tips so she'll agree to go out with you, and I'll tell you so you can see how much I love you for being my brother."

"There is no girlfriend," Jack exclaimed in desperation, stopping and turning to face her.

"Well, boyfriend, whatever it is, I don't care, but I can give you tips."

"Leah, shut up; there's no one special," Jack scolded her.

Leah squinted her eyes analyzing her brother, she didn't remember him having any girlfriends, or if he had, he probably had ruined everything, though he rather seemed worried about something or someone, she was fine then, there was only one person left...

"Now what did idiot Brock do?" Leah asked.

"What? "Jack frowned; she was sure her sister wasn't a mind reader.

"I know you both; what did he do?" she asked again. "Ah, he's the one in love, and I'm sure he asked you for some tips, and you don't know what to tell him."

"Did he?" Jack was confused; he realized what was going on, but Brock never told him anything.

"Tell him he can come over and I'll give him some tips, and she won't be able to say no," Leah assured with a smile. She also saw Brock as a big brother, so she was happy that he had found someone.

"She's the daughter of someone from S.H.I.E.L.D.," Jack commented.

"What, she's an agent too?" Leah thought differently.

"By the way, what do you mean, tips?" Jack barely noticed his little sister's words.

"I'm popular in college," she replied without giving it a thought.

"Popular... then we'll talk seriously, young lady," Jack threatened.

"Jack."

"Leah. "

"I want to meet Brock's girl."

"No, you don't."

"I do, so fix that," Leah said, turning around to go back to her bedroom.

Ꭲꭺꮐꮮꮖꮪꭲ:

@saiyanprincessswanie​​  @sinceimetyou​​ @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad​​ @navybrat817​​ @angrythingstarlight​​ @shield-agent78​​ @charmed-asylum​​ @pandaxnienke​​ @real-fbi​​ @smokeandnailz​​ @white-wolf1940​​  @tenaciousperfectionunknown​​ @xoxonotme​​ @bluemusickid​​ @leyannrae​​  @harrysthiccthighss​​ @marvelatthisone​​ @caplanbuckybarnes​​  @sapphire-rogers​​ @lizzieolseniskinda @notyourtypicalrose​​ @hallecarey1​​  @nana1000night​​ @talia-rumlow​​ @mylifeispainandiloveit​​ @writingshae​​ @alexxavicry​​ @azulatodoryuga​​ @daemonslittlebitch​​​  @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​​ @jtargaryen18​ @chaoticcollectivenightmare​ @endlesstwanted​

#Secrets #Steve Rogers x OFC #brock rumlow x ofc

[tadpoles-and-daydreams]

thank you so much for answering my ask about if free readings are open! i would like to know, does king hades have a message for me? i’m not asking for a deity identification reading, just wondering if he has something to tell me! my initials are a.g, if you need that information! <3

Hello! Quick note to both you and all the wonderful anon's I got asking for readings; HOLY HECC I got so busy after I said they were open, so these are going to take a while! I'll be going through them as well as I can, but if yours doesn't get done for a while don't assume I forgot/ignored you! I'm getting through these asap :D

That being said, Hades absolutely had something to say! He also insisted I use my new tarot deck- surprise (/s) Hades likes the Bone Tarot deck lol. Please note that anything in quotation marks is what I'm getting directly from Hades. (That being said, please don't riot if he cuts a bit deep- he pokes right where it hurts sometimes and I love him for it.)

I feel the need to CW this after doing the reading; even though there isn't anything specific, Hades does have a VERY clear message about self-loathing and an unhealthy relationship so please know that this is a bit of an intense one! I will always always be kind in my readings, but I don't mess with the cards or what the deities involved have to say. Please take care of yourself!

Queen of Pentacles: Earth Mother, Nourishment, Hearth. Gosh, I keep getting these in readings! Y'all need to love yourselves more <3 Genuinely, this card is all about parental vibes and the love they give. It's about the safety of home, whether home is a place or an inner sense of peace. "Please, be kind to yourself. You're so harsh, so full of hatred, and yet it's only directed towards you- darling, that's not what you need to be better. People are only built up through creation, not destruction. You don't need any more punishment, you need to live for yourself. Please. The lord of the underworld is telling you to enjoy life."

Seven of Swords: Deception, Discreet, Secrets. I felt the quiet but seething anger from him. Honestly, I'm just letting him speak for himself with this one. "You are trusting the wrong people with your innermost passions and desires. There are people who act like they have your best intentions in mind, but they do not deserve you. And make no mistake; you do not deserve them either, you do not deserve their abuse and cruelty. You are better than they treat you. They have no right to be so cruel."

King of Swords reversed: Mentally Abusive, Power Hungry, Manipulative. The King of Swords represents a figure who acts superior to others, and who uses their intelligence and words to cut right to your core. My interpretation of the cards and what Hades is giving me is that someone is making you feel helpless and small, and you wherever in the journey you are, you need to take the step. Whether that's leaving this person, or simply acknowledging to yourself the way they treat you, it's time to start the process. "They are not worthy of you." Hades isn't giving me any more for this card- just short and to the point.

Ten of Pentacles: Communal Support, Wealth, Legacy. A reminder that you have good things coming! This feels to me like a very strong nudge that leaving this situation is the right call; you have so much good ahead of you. And, as if he felt that I wasn't sure enough, I feel as though the song playing (from a 584 song playlist, so there's a lot to choose from) is very pointed. "Get out while you can" is one of the FIRST lyrics. "You have such potential. It isn't a lie, and it's not condescending- I'm not telling you that you're wrong for not reaching your potential. The people you could find, the community around you, the wealth both financial and emotional that you have waiting for you- it won't be easy to find but it's there. It is. I am a god of wealth, you just have to reach out for it. Walk through the dark and you'll make it to riches you could never have imagined."

Hades certainly doesn't mince his words so I hope this wasn't too intense! Thank you for sending in the ask, I love doing readings with deities and Hades is such a comforting energy to be around. Feel free to send another ask if you have any questions, or if you feel like giving feedback since I always appreciate that! Otherwise, I hope it resonated and I hope it helped. Hades clearly loves you so much and is so protective, you've got him on your side <3

Here's my Ko-Fi if you'd like to tip, or if anyone would like to check it out! I do more in-depth readings over there, and am always happy to answer questions if you have any (just DM me on tumblr.)

#Y'ALL I'M SO SORRY HADES IS JUST #SO MUCH #I FEEL LIKE I JUST BULLIED YOU INTO SELF-LOVE BUT HE WAS SO CLEAR #I hope it wasn't too intense anon!! #lol the real worry of being a tarot reader #“was this inaccurate... or was it TOO accurate” #tarot #tarot readings #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarot reader #witchcraft #witchblr #pagan witch #witch community #deity work #hades deity #hades devotee

[cbk1000]

hi there the book of merthur is one of my favorite fics and i have a question about it, i hope this is the right place to ask and you don't have a writing sideblog or anything?

I'm such a fan of The Mums from the book of merthur, but i'm curious what made you decide to keep Igraine alive? was it for any particular reason for a plot? spite against the BBC for fridging her before the story even started? Just bc you wanted to make A Mum and unleash her on the story with a cooking ladle and a lot of anger to get out? Not that I'm complaining, she and Hunith are a terrifying force to reckon with and a point of hilarity across the book. But i haven't read a lot of fics where Igraine lives, and even fewer where she has a major effect on the story as your Igraine does. definitely an underrepresented character with a ton of potential!

As soon as i started reading your fic (many months ago) i could tell you're knowledgeable in the Arthuriana, and as i've been making my own fic and doing research about the Arthuriana, I learned that the more popular spelling of her name is Igraine and not Ygraine (and let me tell you, it's been a bastard trying not to confuse the names Ygraine and Yvaine in my fic), and so i also wondered if you had any deeper Arthurian reason for choosing to spell her name Igraine instead of Ygraine or was it just easier on the writing/reading? (I personally repeatedly mistype BBC's Gwaine as Gawain cause that was the first spelling of his name i became familiar with, also an incredibly annoying mistake of mine.)

Thanks in advance for answering (though take your time doing so!) and i hope you're having a fantastic day!

This is my only blog, so this is the right place to ask! Also, thank you for asking; I rarely get questions about inspirations/thought processes and I love talking shop about writing. I'm going to put this under a cut because, surprise, someone who wrote a 600k+ fic is long-winded. lmao

It's been four years since I started the fic, and the pandemic has turned that into about 84, so I can't remember exactly what pushed me to keep Igraine alive, but the first chapter was inspired by a version of the folktale St. George and the Dragon (sometimes also called St. George of Merrie England) that I read shortly before deciding I wasn't done trying to purge myself of BBC Merlin. The image of an enchantress carrying babies away to a cave in the woods piqued my interest, and that segued into me deciding to make Arthur one of those babies. While there are loads of versions of Arthurian stories, most of them show Arthur's conception as happening through Igraine becoming pregnant by Uther after he uses magic to trick her into thinking he is her husband, which is real gross and rapey of him, so I think probably what sparked the initial idea to have Igraine live was that I wanted to play that out a bit and show the repercussions of it and how Arthur was an innocent who obviously was not at fault whatsoever for what happened--but he was still the product of rape and a part of Uther, a man Igraine despised. And of course you can't explore a mother/son relationship that complicated if the mother is dead.

Also, BBC Merlin is a total sausage fest and, quite frankly, I think the writing for all the women was TERRIBLE, so part of it was also just me wanting more women in the story who felt like actual complicated humans and not one-note villains or love interests. Hunith and Igraine are both middle-aged, and I liked the idea of giving them a bit of space and a voice in the type of story that's generally about dashing young people running around swinging swords and getting rescued from towers.

As for the spelling, if I remember correctly, in the first canon era fic I wrote, I did actually spell it as Ygraine, so I've used both spellings in my work. But honestly, I chose Igraine this time around because I knew it would come up a lot more and it's just easier for my English-speaking brain to remember. There are multiple, slightly tweaked versions of many of the characters, and spellings and even names change slightly depending upon the source (Morgana is a good example of this), so if a character is going to be a recurring one in any of my stories, I go with whatever is going to be easiest on my brain. (And yes, Gwaine/Gawaine is annoying; I think we've all made that mistake.) I have done a LOT of reading on various Arthurian texts, so usually there is a more specific reason for something and a particular source of inspiration, but in this case it's really just, 'There are eight million variations of spelling for this, I'm going with the one that's easiest to remember in a 600k story where I already have to keep track of a billion things.'

Also, I want you to know that the bookmark note you left on Book of Merthur referring to a 'wet sock of a gay person' made me laugh, and I still think about it randomly and laugh about it. lmao

#writing #fic #valentinerose529

[imashoe69420]

Those Eyes: Rise! Leo X OC

Chapter 9

The next few weeks go smoothly. Leo and I have hung out almost every day doing whatever we could. We decided on making Mondays and Thursdays movie nights since nothing else productive happens on those days. Every other day, activities vary from trying different pizza restaurants, basketball (which I still kick his ass at), him teaching me how to skate at the skatepark, and so many other things. We’ve also been doing this truth or dare—minus the truth—type thing where we dare each other to do something stupid or risky. If Leo turns his dare down, any food I desire is on him for the next day. If I turn a dare down, Leo gets 20 minutes to go through my room and ask me an unlimited amount of questions that I have to answer.

So far, I’ve only lost once while he’s lost about three (3) times. It’s not his fault, though. His dares are often things he would never do but I have no problem doing. Last week, he dared me to pretend to steal something from the store and act dumb when confronted by an employee. Unbeknownst to him, I do that literally all the time. But I actually steal something and I actually had stolen from that store that night. He pretended to be impressed, but I don’t think he liked that that much. I keep forgetting he’s a hero.

The following night, I dared him to go into an expensive clothing store and try on an outrageously expensive suit to then take a selfie in. To my surprise, he actually did it. Without thinking, I asked why he didn’t walk out with it on—like just take it. His face contorted into a half smile and said a quick “what?”. I just laughed it off once I realized my mistake.

So what if I’m a little bit of a kleptomaniac? It’s not like I’ve ever stolen anything super expensive. Well, besides that one white snake ring but it was staring me in my eye begging for me to take it. And it was only a couple hundred when I looked it up, so who cares?

Anyways, I also noticed that the Lieutenant still hasn’t said anything to me. Not an alert or meeting or anything. It worries me a little bit and maybe it’s a little less freeing than I thought. Whenever Leo isn’t around, I feel like I’m being watched. I have to turn my phone all the way up with my earbuds in to forget the icky feeling. For whatever reason, I feel The Foot has something big planned and it’s going to play out soon.

* * *

On this chilly night, Leo purposes me another dare. He points to the very top of a skyscraper with a sly smile on his face.

“I dare you to climb up there. To the very top. And then take a selfie when you’re all the way on top.”

I scoff. “Are you kidding me? I’ve never gone up that high. And what if I fall?”

“Relax, the great and powerful Leonardo will catch you.” He winks at me.

“More like the smug and arrogant Leonardo.” I whisper under my breath before returning to my normal speaking voice. “Alright, alright. I’ll do it.”

We rush over to the tall glass-covered building. I take in it’s size, which was much taller than I initially thought it was.

Why did I agree to this?

Leo notices my hesitance and lays a hand on my shoulder. “Now, it’s okay if you’re too scared to do it. That pink journal was looking pretty interesting if I do say so myself.”

I shoo his hand away and pull a pair of Shuko from my jacket pocket. “I’ll show you ‘too scared’.” I jump onto the building after adjusting the Shuko straps around my wrists and begin to climb. It’s easy for a minute or two (2), but the top seems to be getting farther and farther away from me. After several minutes, I make the stupidest choice possible and glance back down at the blue clad turtle. He’s so far away now; only a blue and green blur from my perspective.

The cars below look like big balls of light. My vision soon becomes distorted as I get the notorious falling sensation.

“What’re you waiting for?!” Leo yells up at me. “Keep going!”

I slowly turn back towards the top of the skyscraper and try resuming my climb, but my arms and legs can’t stop shaking. I’ve never been this high up before. My fear isn’t exactly being this high, but falling from a height like this. It reminds me of my dreams were I fall into the black void and wake up before I fall to my death. I don’t want Leo to go through my shit, but I feel frozen by fear and the decrease in temperature.

“Okay, you win!” I shout at him. “Help me down!”

He groans loudly. “C’mon, you’re almost there!”

“No, Leo, I’m serious! I wanna get down!”

“Lala, you got this!”

“Leo, help me down now!”

The turtle’s shoulders bounce up and down. He’s laughing? He thinks this shit is funny?

“Leo, if you don’t help me down now, I’m gonna jump!” I threaten.

His shoulders stop moving and he stares at me for a couple of seconds. “You wouldn’t.” He calls my bluff.

“You promised you’d catch me, right?”

From what I can tell, he nods his head up and down.

With a few deep breaths, I close my eyes and push myself backwards into the open air. You better catch me you idiot, I think, if I die, you’ll never hear the end of it from my ghost.

A familiar warping sound below and land in muscular arms. I open my eyes to see Leo staring down at me with a subtle smirk across his lips. “I knew you’d fall for me eventually.”

My heart quickens in pace at his pick-up, but I punch him in the chest and force myself out of his hold. “Whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

Leo chortles as he opens another portal into my apartment. Like the genius he is, he forms the portal on the ceiling, causing us to fall onto the carpeted floor. He laughs awkwardly with a “whoops” and gets up to turn on the light.

“Now… which one should I pick?” The turtle says slowly as he scratches his chin. His eyes soon land on the drawers inside my bookshelf.

Oh, no: part two (2).

That’s where all my stolen stuff is. He’s gonna ask where I got something in here and I’m not sure if I’ll tell him the truth.

He opens the drawer and digs around for a bit. When his hand comes back up, he has the bracelet from the street vendor I helped a month or so ago. Thank god.

“What’s this?” Leo asks.

“A bracelet.”

“No shit. Where’s it from?” He jingles the charms.

“That street vendor that got robbed. He gave it to me as thanks.”

With a hum, he puts the bracelet back and closes the drawer. Leo turns his attention towards my books and then to the pink journal he was boasting about earlier.

My palms become sweaty as me pulls it out of its place. “Wait, maybe not that one. Please.”

The three-fingered mutant laughs at my pleads. “C’mon, it can’t be that bad.”

“Leo, it’s literally so embarrassing. Please don’t open it.”

Ignoring me, he opens the journal and leafs through the pages. He soon enough sees what I’m so embarrassed about as he stifles another laugh.

“Aw, c’mon, these are cute. You used to like ponies?”

“Well, yeah but they’re old and I haven’t touched it in years so it doesn’t even matter.” I say quickly, crossing my arms against my chest. “Can you put it back now?”

“Glitter-Foot… Sprinkles… Twilight—”

“Okay, okay, that’s enough. Pick something else.” Sure, it’s cliché to be embarrassed by your “pony phase”, but to have Leo know about it is a whole different ball game. He’ll never let me live it down.

The turtle snickers a bit before returning the journal to its original spot. “Relaaax, I thought the drawings were adorable. But now I know you’re cringe so let’s call it even.”

“I’m not cringe anymore. You’re still cringe.” I point my finger at him with a smirk of my own on my face.

It makes me feel somewhat better that he didn’t make fun of me as much as I thought he would.

“You’re still cringe.” He says quietly, mocking my tone. “How much longer?”

I check my phone. “Fifteen (15) minutes.”

“Ohhohoho yeah.”

Leo ventures around my room for about a minute and a half before looking at my klepto-drawer again. He glances at me, then the drawer, then me again.

“Did that street vendor really give you that bracelet?”

I nod. “Yeah, I mean, look at it. It’s expensive as fuck compared to the bracelets he was selling.”

“Hm… okay, then how much stuff in that drawer did you steal? I saw that thing you stole last week in there.”

Fuck. He knows.

“Uhm… I guess, like… most of it.” I end the sentence in more of a question form than a statement.

Like I’d feared, his expression becomes more serious. “Why do you even steal? You have a whole apartment by yourself. You gotta be loaded.”

If only you knew.

“I dunno, it can be fun… sometimes, I guess.”

Leo raises an eyebrow at me. “What’s fun about it?”

I check my phone again, trying to distract myself from the situation. “You have ten (10) minutes.”

“Lala, you shouldn’t steal things from people. What if it was you being stolen from?”

I roll my eyes and fall back into my bed. “Listen, mom, I don’t need your input on my habits. I steal because I steal, no rhyme or reason why.”

Leo leans over me, his hands on either side of my head. “Look, I’m not trying to be your mom but come on. You probably have thousands of dollars worth of stuff in there. Don’t you think you should stop?”

“No, not really.” I avoid his gaze, but he follows my movement.

“Well you should. It makes you un-fun. Especially when you asked me why I didn’t steal that suit.”

His words make me feel itchy. “Okay, fine. I won’t steal anymore. Back off.”

The bed bounces back in place after he sits up. “You better, or else I might have to treat you like a mediocre super villain.”

“You would never.”

His frustrated look softens and morphs into a grin. “Maybe.”

Leo continues to rip apart my room, leaving me to think about what he had said. Don’t get me wrong, I know what I do sucks for other people. But I don’t really care, which also sucks. And it also sucks that I can’t help it. Like I said before, I don’t usually steal big or expensive things. It’s almost always shit I never use: travel sized toothpaste, toys, parts to things I don’t have, fake or low quality jewelry, etcetera.

When I walk into my store of choice, I get instant anxiety mixed with excitement—sometimes arousal. Then when I find the random item, I make brief eye contact with it before walking past it as if I didn’t even acknowledge it. I pretend to look at other things and return to the isle and snatch it. If I’m not approached by any employees, I pick up something else cheap and pay for that (or I just snatch it as well). If I am approached, I cope well when I’m under pressure from people I don’t know. I just lie my ass off—maybe accuse them of racism—until they let me go.

Leaving the store is the best feeling of my life. All my anxiety melts away like a thousand pounds was lifted off my shoulders. Now I could put it in my drawer and leave it there for all eternity, never to be used or thought of again.

“What’s this?” Leo wakes me from my thoughts. He’s holding the white snake ring. When my eyes don’t meet his, he sighs. “Okay, maybe I was being too pushy. I don’t think you’re a bad person for stealing things and I don’t think you’re un-fun. I just think you’d be more fun if you didn’t do it.”

“I know. I just… I can’t help it. You’re right, I don’t need any of the stuff in that drawer and I don’t steal with intent. It just happens and it’s the worst feeling sometimes because I don’t even feel bad about it.” I try to hide my shaky voice, but Leo picks up on it.

He pulls me into a hug and lifts me into the air. “Aw, don’t be sad! I shouldn’t have brought it up again. Hey,” he drops me onto the bed and grabs the pink journal again, flipping it to a random page, “look, a pony! He’s got a top hat and everything. You could say he’s financially stable.”

I giggle at the stupid pun. “You don’t have to do that—”

“Or this guy!” He interrupts me, pointing at a badly drawn edgy pony. “He’s a badass; my mane man. My ride-or-die.” Leo frantically flips through a couple more pages and stops on a pony in armor. “Woahhoho, look. At. Him. ‘To be or not to be, that is the equestrian’.” He says in a terrible British accent.

“Okay, okay!” I laugh at his barrage of puns. “That’s enough. I’m not upset.”

Leo smiles at my reaction and places his hands on his hips. “Good. It’s hard coming up with horse puns.”

“You should try different types of jokes. You’re becoming a one-trick pony.” I quip.

“Ooh, my own tricks being used against me. Clever.” The blue clad turtle lightly teases me.

My cheeks flush at his comment. I lift my phone to my face. “Time’s up.”

He grumbles. “Ughh. I didn’t even get to the good stuff.”

“Oh well, sucks to suck.”

The turtle yawns obnoxiously. “I guess you’re about to kick me out to go to sleep, so I’ll get going.” Leo unsheathes his sword and readies himself to open a portal.

“Uh, actually,” I start, my mouth moving on its own. Don’t you fucking dare, Lala, I think. He stops his movements and turns to my direction. “You don’t, uh, have to leave. You can… stay over… only if you want.”

Leo’s amused face practically melts my heart. “You serious?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess.” I shrug.

“Like a hund-o?”

“Yes, Leo.”

“You’re sure you’re sure?”

My eyebrows furrow. “Stop before I change my mind.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” He says ironically. “So, where do I sleep?”

I suddenly break out in a nervous sweat. Don’t. You. Dare., I think, but my thoughts have no control over my lips. “Uhm, in my bed is… fine.”

Idiot!

Now Leo gets nervous. “Uh—I mean, only if you’re okay with it.”

“No, I totally am! I just…” exhale through my nose. “I don’t want you to go yet. I like having you around.”

Leo’s face becomes distorted as he’s trying to return to his nonchalant and carefree attitude, but can’t help but be—or at least what I think—flattered. He eventually turns his lips up into a somehow cocky simper. “I would say I’m surprised, but I knew you couldn’t resist the ‘Leon charm’.”

With that, the turtle removes his sheathed sword and sets in against the wall next to my Yari. He then flicks off the light switch and finally lays down next to me. Butterflies crawl from my stomach and up to my throat and out my mouth, practically choking me. I clear my throat as I turn away from him. He takes the incentive to wrap his arms around my torso and pull me into his plastron.

I’m gonna explode. I’m simply gonna explode.

“Your heart’s racing,” Leo teases me, his breath hot against my neck.

“Your hands are cold.” I retort.

“Do you want me to move—”

“No.” I answer a little too quickly. “I mean, no, it’s fine.”

I try to take a few subtle deep breaths, but it’s in vain. It’s just occurring to me that Leo likes to annoy me and tease me. I thought it was just his personality, but he goes out of his way to be especially irritating until I get genuinely upset. Then he reveals he’s joking and does everything possible to stop me from being mad at him. But he also pushes my nerves as far as he can go, like it’s a game to him. I don’t think Leo enjoys the “making me upset” part, but he for sure has a thing for my exasperated glares, threatening “Leo”s, and playful punches to the chest.

But strangely, I like the teasing to a certain degree. His playful smirks and half assed—maybe sometimes ok—puns make my heart skip a beat every time. Leo is probably the most aggravating person I’ve talked to, but his charm overtakes that part of him, and he also never goes too far.

Suddenly, I’m brought back to reality when a loud snore sounds from behind me. Leo’s grip had loosened around me, sound asleep.

And he gets on me for falling asleep so soon.

There’s no way I’m getting any sleep tonight.

#fanfic #rottmnt #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt fluff #rottmnt leo #rottmnt leo x reader #rottmnt raph #rottmnt reader insert #x reader #rise donnie x reader #rise leo #rise leo x reader #rise donnie

[xaviernottheprofessor]

Never say Never Tagging: @raj-veerapen & xavier. Time & Date: 7/28/2022; evening into morning of 7/29/2022 Notes: Yes, it happened again. Told you so, Ravier. You never listen, do you? first you go to Amaya’s showcase like the dads that you already are and of course it’ll lead from one thing to another. I see you being brave, Xavier but guess what!?You’re weak! Also, Raj is cute and takes all the initiative this time. Go, Raj! But now what? Anyway, have some feels!  

Xavier: Xavier always had a huge appreciation for ballet. His nieces were all in ballet classes. It was one of the reasons why he couldn't wait to take Amaya to London.  They were going to fall in love with her. Intermission was the hardest part. He and Raj split up to go to the bathroom, answer some phone calls, and take care of things they needed to but his heart kept pulling him back to that seat because, for the entire time they were sitting beside each other, their hands were forever joined.  He had taken the initiative, leaning in to ask Raj if this was okay only to be pleasantly surprised that it was. He had already worked through this scenario with his therapist who seemed both proud and shocked at how maturely Xavier was handling it all. He was on cloud 9 but he wasn't going to have all the expectations just yet. Raj was healing. He would keep his distance when asked and they seemed to have found a more comfortable place. It was somewhere he wished they would have been many months ago. He couldn't keep his eyes off Amaya though. She was the star of the showcase just like he knew she'd be and once the second act began to wrap up, he felt that desire in his heart build again. They'd have to pull apart again and he'd go back to missing Raj as if he hadn't just been with him for almost two hours. Xavier quickly wiped his tears of pride for his faux step-daughter and before the lights went on again, he quickly brought Raj's hand to his lips and left a tender kiss against his knuckles. He let the other's hand drop gently and then rose to his feet to cheer Amaya on with him and the rest of the crowd. "She was absolutely stunning."

Raj:  Raj had been looking forward to the showcase since he had found out about it. After having missed her entire first season (which was something he still hasn't forgiven Ship-Wrecked for) he was excited to actually see her dance again. And having Xavier there, their hands intertwined, for a moment let him feel like they were in the life they had planned together. Before everything had gone wrong. And after everything that had happened over the past week it was so much easier for Raj to remember that life together they had planned. That he had walked away from. That he was starting to understand he truly did want even though he wasn't sure how to express it yet. His therapist had warned him against going too fast and making the same mistakes again, for Raj to make sure he was actually ready if things started happening again. And while in the back of his mind part of him wondered if they were going to fast, if the hookup was going to change things, but he tried to banish the thoughts. For a moment they were a couple of dads watching their daughter dance. And in that moment, it was enough. "I knew she would be," Raj beamed with pride, "if she doesn't make soloist this year I will be shocked and thats not even with my dad bias."

Xavier:  Xavier continue his applause, whistling when Amaya took her bow and looked over to Raj to truly take in how happy he was at that moment. Above all things, Raj was an amazing father and had raised an exceptional woman. He wrapped his arm around him, gently grabbing Raj's shoulder to show him support. "Absolutely. She blew me away. "The audience began to empty out the rows once the curtain fell and Xavier looked around for his jacket. The Bay had been a bit colder than he remembered. "So listen, I will let you both celebrate and enjoy each other's company. I'm going to head back and brag about Amaya to everyone I know in London." He chuckled and moved to face Raj. He wanted so many things especially after that phone call and what had followed days ago but he also knew that patience was a virtue and he wanted to be the right kind of support for Raj. Something healthier. "Hey, come here." He pulled him in for an embrace and rested his chin on Raj's shoulder before pulling back again with a smile. "Oh shit! I forgot her present. I got her flowers and something else when I was in New York. Um...maybe you can pin me your location and I'll bring it over to you guys tonight?"

Raj:  "You're going back to London soon?" Raj asked, unable to hide the littlest bit of disappointment out of his voice. Though he hoped that the hug had hidden it will as they pulled away. "Amaya's flying down to San Diego tonight to go to comic con with Frankie and August, so we were going to celebrate on Monday. I was going to take the bus home but I could go pick it up with you."

Xavier: Chuckling softly but with zero harm intended, Xavier shook his head. "Well, yes but just for three days and not too soon. I have a few matters to clear up here. I meant I'm going to call my entire family and brag." He smiled. "Oh! Yes, of course. That's a great idea, actually. Just don't judge the basement all too much. I've been staying there at Emmie's...the house didn't seem right." He cleared his throat. "But yeah, um I already summoned an Uber. Do you think I'll have a chance to see Amaya next week to congratulate her in person?" Xavier then began to empty out the row, every so often looking back for Raj as if he'd change his mind. "Alright, then. Looks like Tone is outside." He waved his phone and smiled. Ready?"

Raj "Are you sure Emmie will be okay that I'm there? She was staring daggers at me every time I saw her at Thomas and Celeste's wedding," Raj grimaced, "but I would think you could see her. You might have to ask yourself though, I don't really know her schedule," he said before smiling, "yeah, if you are." 

Xavier:  Xavier grinned and shook his head. "I'm not sure but we can fix that.  She's not home tonight. So I think we'll be okay. As a matter of fact I’m a 100 percent sure she’s at Con with the rest of the country." He made a mental note to ask Amaya for some 1 on 1 time and then made it outside, opening the door for Raj and climbing in after him. "Hopefully the traffic won't be so bad. Hey, can I send you back in an Uber. The buses run like shit this late. I'd feel happier knowing you're safe?"

Raj:  "I'm glad you have someone who protects you so fiercely though. Even if she's terrifying in the process," Raj admitted, and for a moment he almost kissed Xavier's cheek but pulled away before he did. The two of them were already dancing too close to the edge of the knife, and if they were truly going to try to make a friendship work, he knew they needed to actually make an effort to try not to go too fast. They'd already went past that with their phone call, with their hook up, and just sitting in the car so close to each other, it was hard not to think about those things. "Um..." He said, forcing himself to remind his brain that this wasn't Xavier trying to say he was incapable of getting home despite what it felt like. That it wasn't a bad thing, and after a deep breath and silencing the thought, he nodded and said, "yeah, thanks."

Xavier:  "Ah me too." He laughed and scratched his brow. "Clayton needs eyes everywhere. So him not being here, Emmie is my Clayton so she's seriously a sister to me..." He balled one hand, the closest to the passenger door and dug his nails in, trying to keep himself in check. And in doing so, he only ended up thinking about how harmless and familiar it all felt. He looked over to Raj and smiled. "Yeah? Okay. Of course." He leaned back into the leather. "San Francisco is so beautiful at night. So crazy thinking so many people live behind those tiny little lights, yeh? Like how many of them have we crossed paths with? Do you think there are other people like us. Other versions. Maybe the other Xavier is driving the other Raj home or something." He chuckled. "Sorry...I...think a lot."

Raj:  "I dont know if there's other versions of us, but I do believe in reincarnation and the idea that there are souls that you're drawn to in each of your lives. I kind of think that you're one of those people for me," Raj admitted, trailing off. But he smiled at the comment with a slight chuckle. "I know, its one of the things I lo-," he cut himself off, knowing that if he actually said it, it was just opening up for things to go off the deep end again, ".....like about you."

Xavier: Xavier listened, thankful for the levity. "I really like that.  I mean, it makes sense. Like certain people were meant to be in another's life one way or another. I probably should have met you a long time ago." Xavier smiled at  Raj's words. "You're mine. uh person. Soul? You know..." He laughed and shook his head, catching the precision of Raj's words and taking them for what they were. "My natural repellent makes you like me.  You must be a masochist." He nudged Raj's shoulder and then asked the driver to make a right. "We're just a few minutes away now."

Raj:  Raj wasn't sure if Xavier could sense how hard it was to not kiss him right then. To act on their phone conversation that had repeatedly crossed so many lines (despite Raj not regretting it), on all of the dreams he had since then, of his mind screaming at him to just act and think about the consequences later.  To actually doing that a few days later. But Raj knew better now, that if they were going to do something they needed that foundation, one that maybe they were finally building. And Raj wasnt even sure if they had enough of one. Or that he was ready. If he had to talk himself into accepting an Uber ride, was he really in a place he could handle something bigger? "Its your charm, if people can't handle it, its their problem," he said as he nodded at the ETA. He could handle a few more minutes.

Xavier: Xavier chuckled. "My charm." And left it at that. Not once had that been considered his charm. Raj was so funny.  He exited the cab and walked up to the house, opening the door and letting Raj into Emmie's home. He then began fiddling with his keys again and opened the door to the basement level. "Uh. If you don't mind? I just need 2 minutes to get this shit together and ....just give me 2 minutes." He looked back at Raj and flashed him a wink before speeding down the steps and removing his jacket simultaneously Xavier then kicked off his dress shoes, arranging them neatly with the others, moving to arrange his suitcases and things hasn't been unpacked since leaving his hotel. He wasn't exactly messy but he wanted to try to look as functional as he felt now especially after the last time they hooked up, Xavier's space was not the tidiest. Once the area looked somewhat decent, he tossed a throw onto the sofa bed after closing it up and called up to Raj. "Okay, hey! Sorry about that, I didn't expect visitors. Come on down! I have soda and water in the fridge there. Look at me actually putting things in the fridge, huh." He pulled out his suitcase, kneeling down on the floor to open it up and rummage for the ballet slippers for Amaya. "And the flowers are in the water on the nightstand there, "He instructed not remembering a framed picture of Raj and Xavier sitting on the top.  "Found them!"

Raj:  For a moment, Raj was slightly worried. Xavier had always been meticulous and organized and the fact that he needed to clean was somewhat new. Though there also was a possibility that he hadn't shown that side of himself to Raj. it was confusing and he had tried not to get too lost in his thoughts when he came back. And as he walked down the stairs, he smiled at the room, he hadn't actually paid much attention the last time that he was there, but it was so much easier to process than the hotel room - and even with how different it was, it felt more Xavier. More lived in, more personal, more him.

"She's going to love them," Raj said as she grabbed the flowers, before noticing the picture of them two of them together. His head on Xavier's shoulder, a moment of peace in what felt like a constant storm in the last couple weeks of their relationship.  "You know, I hadn't actually seen how this picture turned out. It's a really good one," he quietly said, not sure how much of everything to say - not with how much he missed Xavier. How much he missed the two of them together.

Xavier:  "Yeah, I saw them and thought. Those are for Amaya." Xavier stood up with a smile, bringing the slippers to Raj and handing them to him. He picked up the frame, one his grandmother had gifted him once upon a time, and then handed it to Raj as well. "I have doubles. It really is a good picture. Amaya takes good ones. It was after we had dinner at Olive Garden and that old lady said we were so beautiful. Remember that?" He chuckled and then smiled at Raj. "Please. I want you to have it. I have another one in my wallet so..." He cleared his throat, not wanting to dwell on any of this. It wasn't fair to Raj and he needed to be better.  "So yeah..." He moved to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm usually a lot cleaner. I'm---well, I've been a bit of a mess, I guess. Quite literally. But the last couple of days..." His arm fell to his side and Xavier stood there for a few minutes, just staring at Raj. It wasn't dark like the supply closet or dark like the theater. It wasn't in a sea of faces like at the wedding. Oh God, this was nerve-wracking. "If you don't take it you'll break my heart." He laughed softly

Raj:  Looking at the picture and hearing Xavier talk, the urge for Raj to kiss him was strong. Stronger than it was in the car, and with all of the thoughts in the back of his mind, just being alone with him felt like Raj was 2 seconds away from pinning the man against the wall. "Well, I don't want to break your heart. Again," the last word was quiet as he added the picture to the pile of what he was taking

Xavier: "What am I? My mom? She used to send visitors home with all this stuff." He chuckled and took the flowers to help Raj out. Xavier shook his head at the comment. and looked up at Raj with a bit of a playful grin. "If anyone can..." He pointed at him and chuckled. "The power you hold, huh?" He pulled his phone out and thumbed through his apps for the Uber application. "I don't want to keep you too long. It's late and Amaya is going to start calling different hospitals in the area to make sure you didn't get hurt or something." He chuckled and took Raj's free hand in his after he ordered the cab. "I'll wait with you..." He reluctantly began walking up the stairs, gently tugging Raj behind him. He wasn't dismissing him. He just didn't want to make matters worse for them and boy, was he trying hard. "Watch your head. Low ceilings.." 

Raj:  "If Amaya actually tries to check on me before morning, I'll be surprised. I had to convince her to give me a warm fuzzy text both when she lands and when she gets to the hotel," Raj admitted, and somehow those words seemed to unlock all of the bad ideas that had been playing around in his mind for days. "Wait," he said, getting Xavier's attention before he got too far up the stairs, pulling him back down, and kissing him. Different than the one that in the closet - the one that felt more comforting. Different than their time a few days ago - that one was practically feral. This one was equal parts desperate and loving, So much closer to how they had been when they were together. Before everything went wrong

Xavier: "Where does that girl go to? I think it's time to follow her aroun--" His words were cut off. Xavier used talking as a defense mechanism. The more he went on and on, the less his brain will have time to think about phone calls and kissing, and the practically animalistic sex they had a few days ago but Raj had other plans it seemed. Before he could even stop whatever this was about to be, he turned around to meet his gaze. "What?" Before Xavier could say anything more, Raj was kissing him and he was making his way back downstairs, desperately finding a place to put down the flowers and everything else. "Wait..." He pulled away for a moment, taking a few deep breaths and laughing breathlessly. "I don't want to do anything you'll regret. I ---we can't go back there again..." He met Raj's gaze and cupped his face, the pad of his thumb roaming to trace his ex's jawline before settling on his bottom lip. "Although...I will absolutely devour you if you let me." his tone was less feral and now softer. He meant it differently. He wanted to consume every bit of Raj. 

Raj:  "I don't think that I'll regret it, I didn't regret the phone call, I didn't regret a few days go," Raj admitted, biting his lip as he sensed how close Xavier was, ""We can talk about it later, actually talk, but right now I just want you."

Xavier: Xavier smirked, more than ready the moment Raj gave him the green light. He pulled him close to his frame by his belt buckle, pressing his lips against Raj's and murmured against his mouth, "I missed you."

Raj:  "I missed you too," Raj breathed against him, pulling Xavier closer, before falling into the bed.

FAST FORWARD TO THE NEXT MORNING

The world was warm, in a way that Raj hadn't felt in what felt like forever. And as he slowly woke up, he was able to figure out where it was coming from. His head on Xavier's chest, his arm resting on the other's stomach, he had just fallen asleep on him. It was his favorite way to wake up. He had forgotten, in all of the sadness that had enveloped him over the past few months. And he knew that he should probably leave, that he should probably apologize for losing his resolve. He should probably regret it. But he didn't. He wanted it to last, as much as he could, to make the moment last. Because who knew if they were going to get another one? Who knew when Raj would actually be able to give Xavier what he needed. The other man started to stir and Raj just sighed, almost afraid that Xavier would think that they made a mistake. "Good morning," he quietly said, trying not to startle him.

Xavier:  Xavier stirred a few times, taking the opportunity to check in on Raj and kiss the top of his head. He was convinced Raj didn't know about this but he did it to not only caress and steal a kiss or two but because his irrational self thought that maybe Raj was going to leave. So when he was greeted by Raj still there and cuddling with him, Xavier sighed out of relief. "Good morning. How'd you sleep?"

Raj:  "Good. But I always sleep better when I'm with you," the words slipped out faster than Raj could stop to think about it, before wincing. "Sorry, I probably shouldn't have said that. We're already doing a horrible job at this just friends thing."

Xavier:  Xavier ran his fingers through Raj's hair and kissed the very top of his head.  "It's okay. How about this...we say it all. Whatever happens between us, we have to be honest. If that's true for you, then okay..." he smiled even though he was slightly sad. Still, he preferred this over no mature conversation. "I guess I don't know what we expected.  Lots of history. "

Raj:   "I don't either, but as messy as it is, I'm glad it happened," Raj admitted, though as he spoke, there was a sadness that started creeping into his voice as he continued, "I just wish that I was in a place that we could work it out, but I just don't think that where I'm at right now that I can give you what you need. And with how much I've dumped on you in the past week, I don't want to be focused so much on my issues that I can't be there for you. And I just don't know how to balance it yet."

Xavier:   Xavier sighed and took a moment to not only listen but to collect his thoughts so he can properly respond to this. "I'm glad it happened too and for what it's worth, I feel safe with you as well. I just feel like a void is filled but by no means, please do not feel like you're obligated to fill it. I understand that you are finding yourself right now and healing and doing a lot of forwarding steps. I get that. If you do not want to do this anymore, that's okay too. And I mean, it's not like our conversations have been one-sided. You're learning about me and listening to me and...well, we worked well before but this feels different. Don't feel like you need to answer this any particular way but do you think that eventually, we will be together again? Like...I guess what I'm asking is that your intent?"

Raj:  It did feel different, Raj agreed with that. Not as fast, like they were actually getting to know all the things that they should have done the first time. "I hope so," he finally answered, after thinking for a few moments, trying to figure out the right words which was getting increasingly harder after just waking up, "I want to, I just......if we give it a second try I want to do it right. And my therapist really doesn't think that I should be in any relationship right now, and I think she's right," there was a sigh as tears pricked into Raj's eyes, and while it would probably be easier to continue if he got up, if he wasn't cuddling into Xavier, he also couldn't bring himself to move.  "And I just don't know when I'll be ready if it'll be next week, next month, next year, never," he last word was a bad joke, and Raj winced as he said it, hoping that Xavier understood that he didn't actually mean it, "and it's not fair to you to make you wait," a tear slipped from his eye, landing on Xavier's chest as more started to follow, "I love you too fucking much to do that to you."

Xavier:  Even with the exchange between them, Xavier didn't feel the desire to run away from all of this. The initial hurt he had felt over their break-up had dissipated slowly. He was sad more than anything. Their love story was beginning to look more like a tragedy and the proof was in the fact that there was a part of Raj that felt like 'never' was a possibility. That was the saddest part of this entire situation. He'd wait for a long time if he had to. But thinking on never frightened him. But it was Raj's feelings and his to have. He blinked away a few tears and then let out a soft sob before pinching the bridge of his. He really hoped he wasn't ugly crying. "I'm not going anywhere. That's just the truth but I also do not want to be damaging your progress. That's all I can offer about that.  I agree with your therapist. About not getting into a relationship right now. And I respect that too. I won't force anything on you." He let his tears fall and closed his eyes. "I love you too. We just...wrong place, wrong time maybe?" He sniffled away more tears. "I don't know. When you're ready, let me know. If I'm still in one piece..." He chuckled softly. "I'd like to try again. IF you start thinking it's leaning towards never though...please all I ask is you tell me."

Raj:  "I really don't think it'll be never," Raj said, shaking his head, ignoring his own tears to wipe away Xavier's, "like maybe we were the wrong, place at the wrong time, but we won't always be. And like we planned a whole fucking life together. You, me, Amaya, even that stupid house. And..................it's one that I want," the words were quiet, but there was a conviction there that was normally absent when Raj talked about himself. That the fact that he really could see it for the first time, the way that he might fit into it. "I just need a little more time before I can step into it."

Xavier:  Xavier looked down, smiling sheepishly as Raj wiped his tears. "No? I thought...just now you said..." he shook his head and took a deep breath. "Baby...Raj...we don't have to take that house. When you're ready that is. I mean, i can sell it. We can find a different one." He nodded. "Please just... keep healing. We can stop this? I just want to be around you."

Raj:  "It was a really bad joke, I really should leave them to you," Raj sniffled, "how about, we don't make a decision on the house now? And once we've figured this out, and once I've got more therapy and worked through some more stuff, you show it to me, and we'll make a decision then," he offered, giving Xavier a smile before giving him a light kiss, "I want to be around you too."

Xavier:  Xavier had been so close to reselling that this conversation was pleasantly surprising. "Yeah, Yeah I like that idea." In that moment, he felt like they were back to the way things were, planning their future even if it was somewhat uncertain. Xavier welcomed the kiss, holding it a bit longer. "Do we...do we stop this?"

Raj:  "We probably should," Raj admitted, though even saying it out loud was disappointing as he rested his head in the space between Xavier's shoulder and neck, "But I don't want to. But if that's what we decide we need to figure out ground rules before this goes any farther."

Xavier:  "Okay." He frowned, pouting a bit and then chuckled softly. "We are the worst, huh?" He kept playing with Raj's hair. "I don't want to either. I mean, there's friends with benefits but...I don't know. Okay, how about we talk about comfort levels?" He sneaked in another kiss on his hair.

Raj:  "I'm not entire sure how the whole friends with benefits thing works," Raj admitted, though if it was anything like the past week, he wouldn't be opposed to it, "But I don't know, maybe just nothing in public, and we don't really talk about this part of everything with other people until we're ready to actually officially be together again?"

Xavier:  Xavier nodded and chuckled softly. "Excuse you, Raj! Am I going to be your dirty little secret?" He grinned to make sure Raj knew he was teasing. "Okay. I'm down for that. Are you okay with being exclusive? I just feel like it's safer and I really don't hook up like this so you know...." His words trailed off. "Nothing in public. And no one needs to know this part. Do you mind if we hook up at a hotel? Since you don't want to go to the house which is completely understandable...it'll be completely low-key...no pent-house suites. I promise."

Raj:  "Yeah, I'm okay with that," Raj nodded, not realizing that he had needed to hear Xavier say they would be exclusive. It wasn't like Raj had planned on even looking at anyone, but it at least made any lingering jealousy of Henry disappear. "Hotels are fine, just not those really sketchy pay by the hour ones," Raj said, "and definitely no penthouses, I don't ever want to see that one you were in again. It just wasn't you."

Xavier:  He smiled, absently dragging his fingertips over the skin on Raj's arm. "Okay, good." He wouldn't dare step in some ratty motel but he was also glad Raj wouldn't either. "Oh, agreed." He smirked and looked down at Raj. "No? I'm curious...what is me?"

Raj:  "Lived in, nice but not excessive, and you're not particularly flashy," Raj explained, "like you prefer quality over quantity. And that penthouse just..........was like the opposite of you."

Xavier:  "Oh?" Xavier sat up, arranging himself so that Raj can continue leaning on him, gently guiding his head back onto his chest. "Lived in. I like that. Makes me feel settled. Which I've always wanted to be but never really did.  I just like the way it sounds. I want that someday. The familiarity of going somewhere and it feeling ...stable."

Raj:  Raj nodded, knowing that feeling would be important to Xavier, with his past, and part of him felt guilty for not giving that to him with their breakup. With leaving . With crashing the little stability they had - though if there was anything that he had learned since they had started talking again was that even if that fight hadn't ended it, the break they had truly had helped them both grow. Even if they were miserable in the process. "With you wanting that, are you sure that you're okay with whatever we are right now? It just feels like it isn't that yet."

Xavier:  Xavier sighed. "Well, that's an important question. No matter where we are now, I know the destination. The in between I can handle. The title isn't established but that doesn't mean we feel any less stable. Weirdly enough, I feel more stable now than I ever did."

Raj:  Raj smiled, relief filling him as Xavier spoke, because in a way he had to agree. Despite having taken so many steps back, it felt more stable. Like this time around they actually were focusing on making sure they did everything right so they wouldn't crash and burn all over again. "Okay, good," Raj smiled, "I'm glad that you feel that way."

Xavier:  He smiled, giving Raj a gentle squeeze. "Me too. Stay a little longer? We can get breakfast?"

Raj:  "Stay a little longer, then breakfast," Raj nodded, burrowing a little more into Xavier's chest, "I've missed this part too."

Xavier:  "Okay." Xavier smiled, glad they're finally in this place. Sure there are no titles attached and maybe that's for the best. This is probably how they should have built their relationship in the first place. "Me too. I've missed all of you. Your laugh, your sassiness, your mean mug." He teased and looked down at Raj with a wide smile. "And where did you learn to do all of that, by the way? You've never done that before..." Meaning a few moves and gestures during their intimate time.

Raj:  "From you," Raj admitted with a smirk, "You did say you liked when someone takes initiative."

Xavier:  At that moment, he was rendered speechless. That in itself hardly happened. He arched a brow and kept his gaze on Raj. "You..." He chuckled, leaning in to steal a kiss. "Cuddles, round two, and then breakfast?" Because wow, that had ignited something in Xavier he never thought he needed.

Raj:  "I think that sounds perfect," Raj smiled, lightly kissing him back before whispering, "I love you." It probably should have been something they agreed not to say, especially with how they were trying to figure things out, but he punctuated it with another soft, sleepy kiss.

Xavier: His heart felt like it stopped ticking for half a second. The entire universe came to a halt. Even after the talk they had. The boundaries they placed, they somehow ended up here. Any other time Xavier would blame the sex. Oh, maybe Raj got caught up in a moment. Maybe he's confused. But looking at him now and taking in his words, he had no doubts this was genuine. "I love you too, baby." And perhaps the term of endearment could have been taken out but he didn't want to. He held Raj close, glad that Emmie was at comic con, glad that they had this talk, glad that they were at least going to try to sort it all out. He kissed his ex- boyfriend, lingering close and then kissed him again. They were going to be okay.

FIN!

#Para: Raj #(paras.) #( ravier things.)

[ihavenocarinsurance]

How they would react to you coming out to them

CHARACTERS: Deidara, Sasori, Itachi, Kisame, Kakuzu, Hidan + Konan (bonus)

GENRE: fluff/comfort ig?

READER: genderneutral (if I messed it up lmk)

CONTEXT: platonic relationship (friendship)

WARNINGS: none, just wholesome times

EXTRA INFO: this has been laying around in my drafts since last year omg- since I don't proof read any of my work just lmk if I slipped up on the pronouns or smth bc I do prefer writing genderneutral stuff ya know?

Deidara

Tbh he strikes me as a quite empathetic and definitely open-minded guy

so if you were to cry when coming out to him out of fear he'd try to calm you down first

he'd constantly remind you that there is nothing wrong with you while hugging you

high key soft moment

would fight anyone who even looked at you the wrong way

If you weren't comfortable with coming out to anyone else, he'd take this very seriously and not tell anyone

matching jewellery. I don't make the rules🤠

to make it short; he'd assure you that there is nothing for you to worry abt and that he still loves you; 10/10

Sasori

damn i love this man sm pls gsgssgsgg

ok so this bastard

you could be balling your eyes out simply out of fear of this reaction and he'd just be like

"ok and what do you want me to do abt that?"

are we surprised that he has an empathy level if approximately -56? No? ok-

so while I can assure you that he wouldn't avoid or hate you or anything like that, this man will just not be feeling it

but if you tell him to keep it a secret,mans will stfu

even tho you won't even have to worry about a thing concerning that he will kill everyone who dares to disrespect you

even before you came out he had the habit of getting you souvenirs from his missions and basically got you anything that reminded him of you

that being said; expect souvenir with your specific lgbtq+ flag colours

Kakuzu

Just like Sasori, he doesn't make a huge deal out of it

Instead he'll just treat it as any other matter/secret you have shared

while he won't buy you shit bc capitalism is a bitch you'll definitely catch him asking questions about you and your identity, and the lgbtq+ history

no he ain't paying for therapy😔

he listens to your answers to his questions in an attentive manner bc he genuinely cares about you and does appreciate you

he just doesn't express his love and gratitude for you in forms of words but instead conveys his feelings in forms of actions

Hidan

lost

he'd be so confused and wouldn't even say anything at first- which might make some of us quite nervous, high key expecting the worst

not a single trace of hatered or judgement

just confusion

just like kakuzu he'd definitely ask tons of questions aswell and you can tell that he is doing his best and taking your identity at heart

so your secret is safe

if it should ever change- c0nfusion part two

He'd also be part of the "I will protect my friend at all cost, look at them funny and I will break your face"-club

Itachi

congratz: you just adopted a supportive older brother

he knows how some things can be hard and he wouldn't take it personally if you'd approach him in an anxious manner

he'd make sure to let yk that his love for you was unconditional

but since he does have to keep his initial plan in mind so he'd tell Kisame to look after you

dedicated to learning more about your identity but he's scared to make a mistake or make you feel uncomfortable

he wouldn't exactly go off on someone who disrespected you but he would not hesitate from letting the culprit suffer in a long and tiring genjutsu either

Kisame

This man probably already knew considering how observant he can be

and if there is anyone who can truly understand the internal struggle of ones self it's Kisame

so expect tons of comfort when first coming out to him in forms of hugs and words of affirmation

"Come on, Y/N, there is truly nothing for you to worry about"

he just wants to offer you the safety and comfort that he seeked back then

I don't need to mention how loyal he is ig

Samehada being your nr 2 ally uwu

Bonus: Konan

While she does seem disinterested most of the time, Konan will do anything for people she loves and for what she believes is right

That being said, she loves you nevertheless

like she is generally speaking not the type to go bs and say that its wrong or whatever

she loves you and values you

she fears losing you just as much as you fear losing her

she strikes me as smn who'd also make sure that others around y'all are staying in their lanes

#akatsuki headcanons #naruto shippuden #akatsuki x reader #deidara x reader #sasori x reader #hidan x reader #kakuzu x reader #itachi x reader #kisame x reader #konan x reader #the good shit

[no-droids]

Out of a Trillion

gif credit: @bestintheparsec​

Part Fifteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.6K

Warnings: uhhhh so there is a bit of SMUT in this one, not too much and I imagine if you’ve made it this far then that won’t be too big of a deal LMFAOOO uh some ANGST and my attempt at HURT/COMFORT and also violence/blood/injury description, so look out for that!

A/N: I started writing this before the season finale aired and I know we all want a bit of goodness and softness after it, but hopefully this will be okay!  I’ll start working on the next part tonight

***

Everything changes and yet somehow nothing does.  

From that point on, it’s like… like you’re both just suspended in this perpetual state of wondering, waiting for the other shoe to drop.  You know he said it’s up to you, but what the fuck?  Look whenever you want?  That’s way too much fucking pressure, he’s out of his mind.  You’re not equipped to handle that, who does he think you are?  Someone that can just… decide things?

And it’s not like you’re afraid of the commitment, or that you don’t want to look.  You do, but every single time a moment comes, it just never… feels right.  You don’t know what you’re waiting for, what feeling or meaning you’re expecting to magically present itself to you, but you can’t shake the idea that there should be more to it than just randomly deciding to open your eyes at some point, shouldn’t there?  Din said there was no ceremony, nothing fancy, and he gave you permission to look because he said he’s not allowed to ask outright, whatever that means.  It’s a standing offer because you guess he isn’t allowed to prompt it for some reason, but unfortunately, that leaves you in just about the shittiest position possible.  Now everything falls to you—initiation, execution, and consequence—and Maker knows you’ve never been that great making decisions under pressure.

But you do want to look.  Sort of.

Sort of.  Because… well, this probably won’t make that much sense, but you’re afraid.  Mostly for him.  What if he’s making a mistake?  It sounds stupid, but you’re afraid of what this means for him, the sheer perpetuity of this decision he’s now expecting you to make for the both of you.  This isn’t your creed, not yet, and you feel like there’s still so much to learn.  Not only about the Mandalorians and his culture, but about him.  To know is to love, and so you’ve taken to asking any nonsensical question you can think of whenever he’s around.  Though you weren’t expecting it at first, you’ve learned that he’ll always give you some sort of an answer.  Some of the highlights include:

“How old are you?”  (“I don’t know.  Probably mid-forties, but there’s no way to tell anymore.”)

“You don’t know your birthday?”  (No, I… think it was in the winter.”)

“What’s your last name?”  (“Djarin.”)

“Do you have any freckles?  Or moles, or birthmarks?”  (“No, none that I’ve ever noticed.”)

“Do you cut your own hair?”  (“Yes, but it’s been awhile.”)

“Do you have dimples?”  (“I don’t smile in mirrors.”)

“Are your earlobes attached or detached?”  (“What kind of question is that?”)

And so forth.

He also gives you so many fucking opportunities to look.  One right after the other.  You used to think Din was incredibly trusting with how often and voluntarily he decided to take his helmet off around you—he didn’t wait a single day once he first felt your hands on his skin to take it off in your presence.  You remember being blown away by his unexpected willingness to part with it after hearing so many tales of the Mandalorians from Kuill; stunned by the ever-present ability to just open your eyes at any moment and that’s all it would ever take.  One simple movement—life-altering, and so easy.

Now you find it nearly impossible, muscle memory just won’t allow it to happen naturally.  And yet somehow, avoiding it is like stepping around land mines.  He doesn’t trick you—he doesn’t set it up, he doesn’t surprise you or anything, but he’s… less careful.  When the kid is awake, Din acts normal—he walks around fully armored, he goes on hunts and returns a few days later with a quarry, teaches you more self-defense techniques in the cleared out hull while the kid watches and giggles at your pain from the safety of his floating crib.  But when the baby goes to sleep, he’s taken to lounging with the helmet off.  He only used to remove it to eat, sleep, or… do other things with you, but he never used to take it off just… because.  Now he does.  Now he’s less careful about darkness, less strict about how much light he allows to touch him.

Now he shares every single meal he can with you, sitting just off to the side so you’ll never see him on accident but providing the free exercise thereof should you ever decide to seek it out purposefully.  Now he interrupts you in the middle of your complaining about the bruises on your knuckles just to lift the rim of his helmet the slightest bit, lean down and give you a quick kiss, and then lower it back into position again before you can even catch a glimpse of the lips you only recognize by touch.  Now he keeps the light on when he goes to take a shower, he leaves the door cracked.

It’s starting to give you heart palpitations, you swear.  At one point, he lets you to see the entire back of his head and it nearly launches you into a fucking crisis.

It’s the middle of the night and he just got up from bed to use the restroom.  He’s quiet enough not to wake you on the way over, but then across the hull and with his back to you, Din flicks the light on in the small bathroom without closing the door.  Immediately rousing you after being so accustomed to the pitch blackness, you lift your head from the warmth of your shared pillow just enough to blearily make out the sight of him leaning a hand up against the wall and dropping his head down, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s actually him.

Soft, dark brown locks ending at his collar but somehow looking longer than you ever imagined when you’ve run your fingers through them.  Cascading in shaggy, natural curls—tall, broad shouldered and trim waisted, naked as the day he was born.  Your heart starts to squeeze in your chest and it just never stops, and for the second time in your life, you feel like he woke you up in the middle of the night just to show you one of the most beautiful things the universe ever decided to hide.  There are trillions of people in this galaxy and how many of them have ever seen a sight that would compare?  He’s just a man, you don’t think a single person would bat an eye.  But to you, he’s… his own monument.  Constructed in honor of everything dazzling that happens to lie just underneath something else.  A breathtaking view, even from this angle, that could only ever mean something to you.

Would you ever be able to know him?  No, that’s not phrased right.  What you mean is that… over the course of all your time together, you remember thinking that if he ever took his helmet off, he could walk right by you and you’d never be able to tell the difference.  He could be anybody.  There are trillions of people in this galaxy and how many of them have the same features?  Brown hair, brown eyes, sunkissed skin that only one person is allowed to kiss, not even the sun.  Would you ever be able to know him?

Staring at his back in the blissful silence of hyperspace and feeling like the Maker himself is letting you in on one of his proudest secrets, some wild thought suddenly occurs to you that… you think you would.  Somehow.

You can’t explain it and you’d never be able to prove it, but you feel like if you lined up every single person in this galaxy shoulder to shoulder, all however many trillions of them there are, then you could walk the entire length of it and somehow come to a stop right where he’s standing.  Every single time.  You feel like you could do it in the pitch black.  You could do it with your eyes closed.

And, he must just be so gorgeous.  Maybe not in a traditional sense (or maybe in one, you’d have no way of knowing), but mostly in just… the rawest sense imaginable.  Not like how symmetry and straight lines are gorgeous, but how a mountain is gorgeous.  Rocky, dangerous, steep, the product of constant conflict between two immovable sides.  He’s got scars littering his body, one of which you remember giving him yourself with a cauterizer on his lower back.  He holds himself like his shoulders could tell their own story if anyone ever asked them; built to endure, weighed down and made strong with a collection of burdens he chooses to strap to them, steel or otherwise.

You don’t want to close your eyes once Din slowly turns around to look at you, but it happens anyways and you’ve never been so disappointed in your own cowardice.

But then, in a way, it could just be your own self-preservation instincts taking over.  No matter how stunning and life changing the spectacle would be, why would anyone ever stare directly at a supernova?  For so long, you’ve told yourself that his face is something you shouldn’t ever see on principle, but in a way, you suppose it’s fair he put this decision on you because he always has, even from the very beginning.  He trusted you to keep your eyes closed for months on end and you never had a problem with it, so why is it so hard to open them now that he’s given you permission?

A couple weeks of that, and you start to worry that you’re unintentionally rejecting him.

It’s the last fucking thing you want, but how can you avoid it?  Din is… different, he notices.  He’s made a living off of finding things that inherently don’t want to be found—he knows all too well what secrecy looks and sounds like, he’s quick and observant and you don’t stand a single fucking chance against him in all the years of his practice.

But strangely, for as often as you feel like you can figure out what he’s thinking without ever seeing his face—realizing what his intentions are ahead of time and not feeling slighted when he phrases things a certain way or just chooses not to speak at all—you never truly realized how much that extended back to you.

He knows you, too.  He told you so.

For some reason, you didn’t even consider the possibility of it working just as well the other way around.  That you could choose to stay silent, and he’d know why.  You feel like the mystery of him just eclipses you in every single way that you don’t consider even yourself much of anything, much less something else to be contemplated and understood.  While you wouldn’t necessarily qualify the conflict as not being ready to commit, he seems more than willing to respect it regardless and nothing about the way he treats you or interacts with you changes.  Normally you’d say it’s like he forgot the whole thing ever happened, but it’s almost the exact opposite.  Like he was just naturally expecting it from you.

Are you truly so predictable, you wonder?  He said you’d say no.  Was he right?  You’re not saying no, you just… can’t remember the word for yes right now.  It’s right there on the tip of your tongue and the harder you work for it, the more frustrated you become with your own inability to find it.

But, instead of waiting, you think Din just decides to continue the conversation with the promise to come back to you when you finally figure it out.

Sometimes, especially when he’s gone, you find yourself thinking about what moment you’d choose, if you could.  Since you can never seem to find the right one naturally, how would it all go if you could construct everything yourself?  Where would it be?  Naboo?  No, that’s too cheesy.  One thing you and Din both have in common is your practicality, your respective propensities for wanting to tackle one thing at a time and not needing frills attached to something in order to find a deep connection to it, a personal value to it.  You weren’t even bothered when he didn’t claim you as a girlfriend to Peli, that’s how reasonable you used to be about labels.  Now you’re your own antithesis, trying to conjure meaning where there isn’t any just so you don’t feel like you’re the one who’s ripping it away.  You want this decision to feel as permanent as it is.  You want it to be a happy thing, something that happens when you’re both so in love that you can’t bear to have metal separating you any longer.

You think… you’ll just know it when the time comes.

***

“I have to leave,” comes Din’s hushed voice through the darkness, and even though it’s the first thing either of you have said in hours, it sounds frustrated.  Like it’s been bothering him for awhile and he’s just now finally telling you.  “I… fuck, I can’t stay here, I should’ve left a long time ago.”

You whine softly into the pitch black, turning your head into the pillow and curling your fingers into his hair.  “But it’s still so early…”

“It’s mid-afternoon,” he groans back, dropping his forehead down against your skin and breathing hot air along it.  “We’ve been parked here for hours, I don’t know how you can sleep so long.”

“I’m not sleeping,” you pout, before gently dragging your nails down his scalp and feeling his whole body shudder with it.  “Earlier I was.”

“Mhm,” he murmurs, leaning down to give you one last long, slow kiss.  You sigh when his tongue comes out and glides soft and hot against your lips, tightening your grip on his hair.

But soon he pulls away, lifting the covers from over his head and pushing up from between your spread legs.  “This one shouldn’t take long,” he gruffs, planting both palms next to your head and kissing you once more in the darkness, dipping his tongue into your mouth this time.  You moan softly and taste yourself on him, moving to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, but he breaks the kiss and leans back before you can, preemptively avoiding the possibility of getting lost in it.  “I’ll be back around dawn.”

You’ve known it was coming for hours now, so you’re able to play it off way better this time around.  “Okay,” you breathe softly, dragging your palms up his bare chest as he lifts himself tall over your body.  The slight disappointment underneath is so masterfully hidden, you’re almost positive you’re going to get away with it.  “Be safe.  Please.”

But then… well.  Bounty hunter.

Din pauses for a moment like that in between your open legs, letting you slowly slide your hands down his ribs and over the lines of his stomach.  You wait for him to move, find his clothes so you can get around and make some food, wake the kid up from his nap in an hour or so.  Can’t stay in bed all day, no matter how much you wish you could.

Only, he still hasn’t moved and you start to become concerned.  “Din?”

But then he suddenly groans like he just can’t help it, grabbing both of your spread legs and easily lifting them up.  You make a sound of confusion as he maneuvers them until they’re pressed together and draped over one of his shoulders, and then his hips drop and push forward to slide himself thick and perfect into your blazing hot cunt.

Still drenched and swollen from cumming in his mouth so many times earlier, you gasp and he just groans louder, a ragged thing scraping out of his throat while you struggle through blind and unexpected euphoria to reach him.  But you can’t—Din hugs your legs tight to his chest and settles in just like this, turning his head to drag soft lips and a hot tongue over your ankle before he starts fucking you.  Right up against your g-spot, with your whole lower body in the way and preventing you from slowing him down.

You just have to clap both hands over your mouth just to keep quiet since you can’t reach him.  You feel his teeth sink into the meat of your calf, hips pistoning far beyond your reach and it feels so fucking good that you almost don’t hear his gritted words against your skin.

“I have to go,” he groans, repeating it over and over until his voice begins to pull tight and it just sounds like a plea.  “I have to go, I have to go, I h—have to… h-have to go, I have to, I have to, I have…”

*** 

When Din finally steps foot out of the ship, fumbling with his rifle and cursing quietly through the modulator, it’s the middle of the night some twelve hours later.

***

Steady…

Steady………

Fire.

—and… you blink as bark splinters.

Did you…?  You look down at the blaster in your hand and then back to the ginormous charred tree trunk for a few seconds, wondering if you’re just seeing shit.

No, it’s real.  You actually fucking did it.  You…

… hit the target.

All of a sudden, your ecstatic giggle echoes loudly throughout the foresty autumn wonderland around you, reds and oranges and yellows crunching under your feet while you start to dance.

“Hey!  See that, bug!?”  You call out, shoving the blaster into your waistband and shimmying up to your enthralled audience of one, who just so happens to be smiling as wide as you are as he’s scooped up into your arms.  “I hit the target, I hit the target,” you sing, beginning to sway the baby back and forth as he squeals, laughing while you bounce him.  “No demon powers necessary, little man!  I figured it out, I just have to use one hand instead of two.  You can retire now, you’re the right age for—”

A twig snaps in the distance somewhere to your left, and you quickly spin around while reaching for the blaster behind your back.

Except all you see is a blue Twi’lek standing out amongst all the fall foliage, his hands cuffed behind his back and stumbling a few steps at a time while a considerably taller suit of beskar shoves him forward.  You relax and immediately turn to look down at the ground, trying to bite your lip so you don’t smile too hard while they both approach.  You did it—finally, you did it, you’re on top of the fucking universe right now.

You wait for them to pass by and move up the open metal ramp to the carbonite chamber, but then Din apparently decides to pause when he’s directly behind you, yanking the quarry to a sudden halt.  

You know you should probably turn around to address them, but you can’t hide the happiness from your expression, it’s way too obvious.  Though, after a moment, you decide to shyly turn to face the two men while continuing to bounce the baby in your arms, hoping that his and your matching expressions of excitement aren’t too terribly inappropriate right now.

Din looks from you to the splintered bark on the tree, and then back to you again, before slowly tilting the helmet up in a way that feels… proud of you.

“Congratulations,” he finally says, and you can hear the genuine smile hidden in the modulated drawl.

“Thank you,” you beam up at him, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks.  “Was pretty awesome.”

“I’m sorry I missed it,” he tells you, and you don’t know why, but the tone of his voice makes you go so warm.  It’s not like he’s openly flirting with you, but coupled with your giddiness and sounding like that in front of a bounty he caught in record time, it just makes your heart fucking throb for him.

“It’s alright,” you murmur, shuffling your feet through the crunchy leaves below and trying to play it as cool as possible.  You have company.  “I’ll be able to do it again.”

“Let’s see it, then.”  He tips the helmet over at the tree, and you look between him and the unfamiliar quarry for a second, not used to Din just… ignoring their existence entirely for you.  It’s not like the Twi’lek has said anything or inserted himself into the situation at all, but still.  Din has one hand latched onto the cuffs behind his back to prevent him from booking it, but other than that, it’s like he’s pretending he’s not even there.

“Uh…”  You immediately feel yourself get nervous.  “I can… try.”

He nods one single time in silent encouragement, and you slowly turn to face the tree once more.  The kid stays cradled in your arm while you reach for the blaster in your waistband, removing it and using your longest finger to flick the safety off with a practiced fluidity.  Then, extending it out in front of you and taking advantage of your newfound strategy of only firing with one hand, you line up the sight and pull the trigger.

You wish you could say it hits.  It would be so fucking cool and impressive if you hit the target like that, wouldn’t it?  But it doesn’t hit.  It misses, like usual.  Miserably.  And then an amused snort comes from behind you.

“Right stormtrooper, you are—” you hear an unfamiliar accent begin to snark, but the rest of it turns into a garbled howl the second Din jerks his elbow back to slam it in his face.

You whip around just in time to see a cascade of blood pouring down blue lips and sharp teeth—holy fuck.  You gasp and take a step backwards with the kid, not horrified by the sudden display of violence (not after Din spent an hour teaching you how to do that, too) but not quite expecting it at that moment, either.  But then, well… that’s the second time he broke a quarry’s nose for addressing you with disrespect.  There was that other one he choked, you’re pretty sure—though you can’t remember exactly what initiated that.

Din yanks the bounty up the ramp without another word, leaving both you and the kid there to process while he shoves him through the hull and towards the carbonite chamber none too kindly.  However, by the time he seals the quarry to his fate and eventually makes his way back to you, you just… 

Fuck, you feel so stupid.

You shouldn’t even bother, what’s the point?  All that practice and nothing to show for it.  If you can’t even hit a stationary target with the pressure of others watching, what makes you think you’ll have any hope at all in a situation where you actually need to shoot?  Are they gonna stand still for you?  Are they gonna be as wide as a fucking treetrunk?  You’re horribly embarrassed, so downtrodden in the face of a cruel taunt that you don’t even want to look at Din when he steps in front of you.

“Hey, just try it again,” he says without delay, but the damage has already been done.  It’s not his fault, you’re just… not the kind of person who is meant to shoot a blaster, maybe.  

“Ah… it’s alright,” you look out and smile sadly at the line of trees surrounding you, wondering how it’s possible that you only managed to hit one of them this whole time.  You don’t see it, but Din quickly touches the tips of his fingers to the side of his helmet twice before you look back at him.  “I hit it earlier.  I did, I promise.  You can see the mark if you look.”

His glove reaches out to brush your hair back, so unbelievably gentle after using the same arm to shatter bone just a few minutes ago.  “I know you did.  It was a perfect shot, you hit dead center.  I see it.”

“I did it with one hand, that’s why I tried the thing,” you mumble stupidly, looking down at your feet.  Dumb.  Dumb.

A strand of your hair is tucked behind your ear.  “Wish I was here.”

You glance over at him, feeling your expression suddenly go soft with a wave of affection.  It stops all the harsh criticisms, halting your negativity in its tracks and replacing it with just… soft, abstract things.  Mostly just warm, nonsensical fluff, but one clear and resounding thought breaking through.  You wish he was here, too.

“Maybe I’ll get good at it eventually,” you sigh, slowly handing him the blaster with the barrel pointed down and away from both of you.  Din carefully takes it from you, tucking it away somewhere on his utility belt while you gaze out at the designated target and victorious char mark decorating it.  “Or hopefully just okay at it at some point.  I guess I just need to practice more, right?”

“That’s right,” he tells you warmly, catching your free wrist.  “Try using this one when you do.”  And then a lightweight piece of metal is gently pushed into your empty hand.

Your expression furrows while you quickly look down at it, and—

You go utterly still at the gift, not even knowing what to think.

The first thing that you notice is the craftsmanship.  Brilliant, structurally flawless, the perfect size to fit your hand.  You don’t recognize the specific kind of metal that was used—definitely not beskar—but you think it might be constructed from the same material as Din’s old armor.  Dull silver, but with reflective chrome filigree accents around the handle, trigger, and safety.  It’s uniquely constructed and unlike any weapon you’ve ever seen before—no hard lines or edges, just a soft fluidity to the design that’s so aesthetically pleasing, it doesn’t really even resemble a blaster at all.

You can feel the visor silently studying your reaction while you continue marveling, noticing something new every time you look.  The safety is towards the back of the chamber, just like he said it’d be.  The sight is electronic, and you examine the way it’s built directly into the barrel.

Are those extra magnets on the inside?  Is this able to micro-adjust the plasma release for the best shot?  Holy stars, it must have cost a fortune.

“Din, this is…” you can’t decide where you want to look—the gorgeous crafting, the custom design, or him.  Standing so close to you, not saying a word while you search for the right ones.  “It’s so beautiful, I…”

“Was made for you,” he murmurs.  “Had to be.”

You look back down at the blaster to stop your eyes from tearing up.  He didn’t have to do this.  This is so… sweet, such a lovely thing to do.  Don’t cry, don’t cry—

“What is this?” You ask breathlessly instead, rotating the gun until he can see the symbol branded on the handle.  You recognize that it’s his signet, but you never bothered to ask him what it’s called, you never saw it as your place.  It’s an animal of some sort, one with a giant spike attached to its skull, and you’re glad you’ve never come face to face with one.

“It’s a mudhorn,” he answers quietly.  “They’re… dangerous animals.  Fiercely protective, preferring solitude.  The kid saved me from one a few days after I met him.  It’s… the mark of my clan.”

How fitting, you think, and an honor.  Perfect for him, and a bone-deep reminder of your two favorite people in the galaxy on your hip wherever you go.

“Thank you,” you tell him, hoping the sincerity in your voice sounds anywhere close to how you feel.  You haven’t even had it in your hand for longer than a minute and it’s already your prized position, the most important thing you’ve ever called yours.

Din nods and takes a small step back.  “Now hit the target.”

Feeling invigorated and renewed in every single way, you keep the kid tucked firmly in one arm while raising your blaster with the other.  The safety clicks off and your back straightens, chin lifting until something about the angle feels… right.  The trigger moves easily under your fingertip, and there’s almost no kickback considering how light the weapon is.  What you’re not expecting is the pure white beam of plasma shooting out of the barrel—unlike any blaster you’ve ever seen before—but then the immediate sight of it hitting the tree dead center sends a roar of triumph through your ears.  Fuck yes.

“Look at that!”  Din calls out over the kid’s happy squeal, and there’s nothing you can do to stop your loud whoop of victory.  Even though you know it only hit with the addition of those extra magnets to correct your terrible aim, that still feels so good—you feel so fucking powerful and dangerous.  You glance over to Din with a wide smile, but then his arm extends out towards the trunk directly next to the one with charred bark.  “Hit that one.”

You automatically swing the blaster in that direction and shoot.  A few pieces of wood split on impact and send sharp bits flying as soon as the bright white beam collides with it.

“That one,” Din tells you, and then bark splinters a half second later.  “That one.”  Bark splinters.  “That one, that one, that one—” hit, hit, hit, white plasma flying through the air and bark splintering in rapid succession.

He stops and spins around, pointing to a tree at the very edge of the clearing.  “That one?”

It’s furthest away but the trunk’s diameter is enormous.  As you lift the blaster, you know you’re likely to get it easily with this sophisticated weapon, even across the considerable distance.  So instead, feeling like nothing at all can touch you right now and wanting to see how smart the aim mechanism is, you raise up a few degrees higher before pulling the trigger.  Pale plasma launches from the barrel, and then one of the tree’s most prominent branches comes creaking and crashing to the ground right where you split it.

You’re beaming by the time Din turns back to you, the most excited you’ve ever been with your own progress.  He holds there for a moment while you lower your blaster and wait for him to speak, both of you looking at each other and not moving, until suddenly you hear his voice coming back to you.

Hit the target and I’ll marry you.

One of Din’s hands slowly comes up to the edge of his helmet, but before you can even process the implication behind the gesture, you’re immediately looking down at the crunchy leaves under your feet and clearing your throat.

There’s a beat of silence where you stare down at the dead foliage and wonder why the fuck you just did that.  Right in front of him, right to his face, too startled at how quickly you were being confronted with the possibility that you responded in an equally startled way.  It was instinctual, automatic and entirely out of your control, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to take it back.

But… you can’t take it back.  That’s the way things are, and after a few moments, you hear his boots begin to cross the distance to you.

“Come on,” Din murmurs gently through the modulator, carefully taking the blaster from your hand and clicking the safety back on again.  “We have to get going.  The fifth quarry is far.  Three day trip through hyperspace.”

He doesn’t sound upset or disappointed by your unintentional rejection, thank the Maker.  You want to explain yourself somehow, but it appears it isn’t necessary in the slightest.  His arm wraps around your lower back and he leads both you and the baby back up the open ramp of the Crest, squeezing you close enough to his side that you have to learn how to walk in a different way to stop yourself from tripping over his boots.

The helmet turns and presses to the top of your head while you focus on moving straight.  “Proud of you,” Din murmurs quietly, and your chest fills with enough air that you’d be worried about floating away if he wasn’t latched onto you so tightly.

He eventually releases you and walks over to the armory, pressing a button to unlock the doors while you hold the kid and watch him start to remove the multitude of weapons strapped to his body.

Maybe… maybe this isn’t the right time, but something brave surges up inside you.  After receiving the most precious gift imaginable from him, hitting all those targets and hearing him say that he’s proud of you, you’re buzzing with just enough energy that for better or worse, it makes you open your mouth and ask.

“Could I… come with you this time?”

Din nearly jerks upright and looks over at you immediately, but he takes a while in responding.  You hope he sees it in your eyes.  You hope he sees just how much you don’t want to be stuck here again when this is possibly the one time you’d be able to tag along.  It’s a bullshit quarry, one he could do in his sleep, and you’ve been getting increasingly restless while stuck on this ship.

When Din eventually does respond… well, judging from his shift in tone, you’re assuming he was just shocked at the question and didn’t take any of that time to actually consider his answer.

“No.”  Short.  Unfeeling, and not sorry about it in the slightest, before turning back to return the blasters you were using previously to the armory as if you said nothing at all.

Okay…  Um.  Not great, not what you wanted to hear, but maybe if you explain yourself better, he’ll listen.

“I just… I’m the only reason you have to get this quarry in the first place.”  Your voice is quiet, trying to let go of some of the concerns you’ve kept to yourself over the past two weeks.  Your fingers fiddle idly with the kid’s little woolen sack as he hangs out in your arms, wanting to plead your case but feeling slightly nervous now.  “You were out having a crazy expensive blaster made for me while I shook hands with Karga and agreed that you’d take more work for less pay.  I hate that I did that.”

“You had no choice,” Din mutters, turning around and striding past you while pressing a button on his vambrace to close the Crest’s ramp.  “My fault for being late.”  And… for as warm and comforting as his voice sounded earlier, it now just sounds… dismissive.  Aloof.  Half-listening, not really wanting to talk but forcing himself to.

“Well this time, I thought maybe… I might be able to help?  Maybe?”  Maker, you feel yourself going quieter the more he walks around the hull and ignores you.  “Karga said it was just a missing person, not even a criminal…”

“Karga says a lot of things,” he grunts with his back to you, voice completely monotone through the modulator.

Come on, speak up.  You’ve lacked a backbone for so long, you’ll never get what you want unless you say it out loud and let it be known.  You take a deep breath and straighten your shoulders, trying to put a little bit of spine into it.  “I can be useful.  I can fight now, I’ve been working on my—” 

“You think I’m telling you no because I don’t think you’re capable?”  He suddenly whips around, voice ringing sharp and challenging throughout the hull while you freeze.  You don’t move but everything about you suddenly feels like it shrinks.

“I-I didn’t—” But he cuts you off, taking a step forward.

“I know you can fight, a Mandalorian taught you how.  I know you’re useful, I know it’s just a missing person, and I know you hate it when I leave.”  He pins you with his eyes through the visor, his tone harder than you think you’ve ever heard it before.  “No.  Your job is to stay here, on this ship, with my son, where it is safe, and my job is to go get the quarry.  Quit asking.  I’m not telling you again.”

The baby makes a tiny little distressed sound in your arms and you blink a few times up at the cold metal, feeling all the good feelings from before just… drain out of you.

Okay, that’s fine.  Uh.  You… the cockpit is behind you, you’ll go up there and fly then.  No reason, just… he should get going.

“Okay, yeah,” you nod and tell the wall over his shoulder brace in immediate agreement, before abruptly spinning around and grabbing the ladder.  Din doesn’t move a single fucking muscle while you try to find your way up to the cockpit with the baby held to your chest and a dead stone sitting heavy inside of it, hoping your face doesn’t show the vulnerability you feel wanting to take over as you retreat.  Get to the cockpit first, get to the cockpit first, get to the—

“Sweet girl, I…” you barely hear murmured through the helmet from the floor, soft enough to sound slightly shocked, but you scramble into the cockpit and shut the door behind you before he can say anything else.

***

Silence didn't used to feel like this.

At first it was eerie, unnatural and stifling when you spent years in a wide open desert, wind swirling and dust pelting.  It suffocated you the first few times you jumped into hyperspace, a phenomena you read all about and considered mathematically fascinating before ever experiencing for yourself.  It was… foreign and strange, but you began to value it more and more as time passed.

Then, you started to get to know him and silence just became comforting.  Something you could bask in, knowing it was a comfort to him.  A choice he made because it just fit him best.  You felt safe in it, you felt like you didn’t have to be anything else but you.  You never had to break it just to avoid awkwardness, you became… closer to it, until you learned to fall in love with it.

But only when he was with you and it was his silence.  Not… everything else’s.  Now it’s haunting again.  Now the sheer lack of sound through hyperspace is a stranger to you, and the distortion of light surrounding the cockpit feels less about the sheer magnificence of manipulating space time and more about the fundamental disconnect it causes.  Gorgeous, but at its core, a severance.  Ripping the fabric of the universe apart, tearing a wound in it.

It’s been a few hours and nothing exceptional has happened since your conversation in the hull.  

You’ll admit that you’re a sensitive person, and because of that, you’ve always had a problem knowing if you were right or wrong when someone comes at you with a hard enough will.  You second-guess yourself, it’s one of your worst traits, and you feel like trying to squash that tendency without knowing the limit is partially to blame for why you’re holed up in this cockpit with the kid.  You’re quiet but in a different way from Din.  When he doesn’t speak, it’s because most of the time, he’s sure of himself and doesn’t need to.  When you don’t speak, it’s because most of the time, you’re insecure and don’t want to.

After being left alone with your thoughts for this long, you’re starting to realize that… he was right.  What were you thinking, wanting to tag along?  Wanting to hang out while he risks his life for this occupation, you probably sounded so fucking ignorant.  Maybe… maybe he didn’t have to say it like that, but his point is still very valid and you’re not sure if you’re really justified in hiding like this anymore.

The way he said… your job, though.  That still stings a bit.  This hasn’t felt like an actual job in a very long time.  Was that just an expression, or did he mean it literally?  You’re stuck on it, you’ve just been going over this for hours in your head, trying to figure out if you should be the one to apologize or not—or if this is just you overreacting from the start and no apologies will be necessary at all.

“Sorry you got stuck with me, kid,” you mutter sadly to the baby, watching him fiddle with his favorite metal ball in your lap.  He makes a little gurgle, purring in that weirdly adorable little way of his and it somehow feels like a reassurance directed to you that he’s just fine the way he is.

Maker, you haven’t heard anything from the hull in a fucking eternity; it’s like Din turned into a ghost, hasn’t even made a single footstep that you could hear since you last left him standing there.  You remember performing a quick flight check as soon as you got up here, lifting off as fast as you could and hoping the thrusters would rumble loud enough to cover your series of pitifully shallow sniffles at being yelled at unexpectedly by a very large and intimidating man, not really crying but not really able to breathe normal either.  The little monster was able to wiggle himself around in your lap as you were trying to punch in the correct coordinates for the fifth quarry with rapidly blinking, watery eyes, and then proceeded to give your belly the smallest hug you think you’ve ever been given and pretty much break your heart with it.

Lovely little boy, so sweet when he wants to be.  He’s sat with you this whole time, he even tried giving you his metal ball to play with but ultimately decided to keep it to himself when he realized you aren’t nearly as fascinated by it as he is.  You know it’s probably getting late for him, and you’ve been weighing the idea of handing him over to his father so he can at least get a good night’s sleep somewhere that isn’t your arms.  There’s no blankets in here, just your lap.

“I think I gotta go take you to your dad soon, tiny.  He’s probably missing you,” you tell him, trying to keep quiet enough that you won’t disturb Din in the hull.  There’s a good chance he’s already asleep.  “I think… he might still be mad at me.  Maybe you can give him the big eyes, soften him up a little?”

Right on cue, his enormous eyes start to droop closed, and you let out a tired sigh of exasperation.  That’s not gonna work, come on.  They gotta be open, booger.

You watch him slowly drift to sleep, his ears relaxing until they too start to droop, but when you try to take the ball from him and set it down on the console, his eyes immediately pop back open and the toy slips from your fingertips.  It levitates right back into his tiny hands as you watch, and then he closes his eyes once more while tightly cuddling the thing he loves most to his body.

Unbelievable.

He’s a child, and yet he’s…

“How are you so strong?”  You ask him, unable to even fathom.  “You’re the smallest, most helpless little thing I’ve ever seen and you’ve got such… strength.  You defy the universe for a piece of metal.”

He doesn’t hear you, you think he’s asleep again.  It’s just as well, you figure.  He needs to go sleep in his crib, it’s time.  You scoop him up and make sure the little ball stays tucked snugly in his arms, before finally standing up and stumbling over to the door on numb legs.

Only, when it slides open, you quickly stop short.

Because there, sitting on the floor and resting his helmet against the corner of this small little platform leading to the ladder, is the Mandalorian.

So much closer than you expected him to be.  So big, crammed into such a tiny place.  You didn’t hear his footsteps climbing the ladder, and you would’ve noticed it during the hours you’ve spent in the suffocatingly muted quiet of hyperspace.  He can be silent but not when absolutely nothing else exists and he’s got a thousand fucking pounds of steel weighing him down at any moment in time.  You took off almost immediately once you barricaded yourself inside the cockpit, so has he… did he follow you up in those last few seconds, right after you shut the door?  The ones when you were sniffling like a child and trying desperately to turn the thrusters on before you let the tears come?

His head lifts and his back straightens as you’re looking down at him with his sleeping son cradled in your arms, your eyes slightly redder than they should be.  You’re a mess and… he’s been here this whole time?

“Could you hear me in there?”  You whisper in sudden mortification, but Din just keeps gazing up at you through the impenetrable metal visor.  A complete mystery again.  Unreadable—he could be anyone.

When he doesn’t answer you, your heart twists with the possibility that he’s still upset with you, and you quickly turn to the ladder to figure out the best way to get down without jostling the baby.

“I’m sorry.”  His voice stops you dead in your tracks.  It’s so soft, nearly flipping in and out of the modulator from the lack of volume, the most cautious sounding thing you’ve ever heard coming through the filter.  “I… hurt your feelings.  I’m sorry.”

And…  Maker, if anybody else had said it.  If literally anybody else had said it, you know it would’ve sounded like the most sarcastic, dickish remark in such a delicate moment.  But, you also remember him telling you once that you were tenderhearted.  That the galaxy would never be as kind to you as you are to it.  This… comes out sounding like he’s trying to change that.

It comes out sounding like he’s trying to use his voice to hold you because he doesn’t think you want to be touched right now.  Like… like he’s doing everything he can to be as careful as possible here because you think he might be attempting to do something he’s never done before.  Apologize for saying something he didn’t mean.

“You don’t have to,” you quickly tell him.  He’s not good with words and apologies are difficult enough to phrase for normal people, you don’t want him to fret over it if that’s what this is.  “It’s okay, I know you’re not… you don’t have to.  It was stupid of me to ask.”

“It wasn’t,” he instantly counters, his voice finally seeming to find the floor when it was just hovering before.  Not loud—still gentle, still making sure the kid doesn’t wake up and you’re not frightened away, but a bit more grounded this time.  “It wasn’t… what I wanted to hear, and I didn’t take it well.  Not stupid.”

“It was stupid,” you return amicably, looking down at your feet.  “That’s not my… job, like you said.”

Din suddenly hangs his helmet down to his chest, pressing his gloves to the part that curves over his forehead and rubbing it.  “Shit.  I didn’t mean—”

“You were right,” you acknowledge, having spent the past few hours coming to the understanding that it’s the hard truth and he just phrased it poorly.  “I’m not… built for it, I’d only get in your way.  I barely just managed to shoot stationary targets with a blaster today, and that’s only with that aim corrector built into the barrel.  I’m here to be helpful, not—”

“What are you saying?”  He suddenly lifts the beskar to study you, sounding genuinely confused.  “What aim corrector?”

That… makes you pause.

“The, uh…”  Now you’re confused.  “The one that adjusts the plasma release on the gun you gave me.”

He doesn’t move an inch or say a single thing to you in response and you awkwardly shuffle your feet for a second, everything so quiet that you can hear every little snore that goes in and out of the kid’s tiny button nose.

You blink at him after way too long of that, not knowing why he still hasn’t said anything.  “There’s an electronic sight and like a bazillion extra magnets packed into the barrel, Din, what else could—”

“Sweet girl, that’s… that’s for the Philithiorium,” Din breathes out, like he’s absolutely blown away by you right now.  “That gas is less stable than normal canisters, it takes more magnets to focus the white beam without overheating the metal.”

You stare at him, not truly processing.  He’s saying that… you made all those shots today without any help at all?  By yourself?

Your eyebrows furrow and you blink a few times, but then his slow, heavy sigh echoes throughout the metal walls with disappointment… and you don’t think it’s directed towards you.

“You’re just… always so unsure of yourself.”  He sounds genuinely distraught as his helmet tips down to look at the ground.  “I made that worse today.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you quickly shake your head, your chest already beginning to loosen slightly by just being around him, hearing his voice, seeing the metal glint under the fluorescent light overhead when he’s in such a vulnerable position on the floor.  “It’s okay, let’s just… pretend neither of us said anything at all, okay?”

“Is that what you really want?”  He asks you after a moment of quiet, and for some reason, you hear something in your mind tell you that his arms look so nice right now, don’t they?  You could fit right there, perfect and safe again.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you smile at him, feeling a bit of the ache trapped inside you continue to work itself out little by little.  You’ll be back to normal soon, it’s fine.

“No, I mean… do you really want to come with me?”  Din asks you, the words sounding cautious.  Confused, like he truly never expected the proposition from you at all.  “Or… do you just not want me to go?”

Oof, what a fucking question.

Why would he ask this?  It’s not pointed; it’s the softest, gentlest inquiry you’ve ever been posed.  Maybe in other circumstances, you’d say that him leaving doesn’t have anything to do with it, but… you’re certain that internally, it absolutely does have at least something to do with it and he was just able to know it before you did.  Which is probably why his sharp words seemed all the more cutting earlier.  It hurt because he said the truth first, verbalized a very deep insecurity you’ve been trying to hide from him and threw it right in your face when shutting you down.

Though, if it worked differently and you were the one who had to be away while he stayed here, you’d like to think you’d handle it way better than how it is now.  At least you’d have a real mission to focus on, new things to see and experiences to have.  You just feel… confined sometimes.

You take a deep breath and figure you’ll use sitting down as an excuse to think for a second.  There’s practically no room but you find it in the back of the cockpit near the doorframe anyways, doing your best to keep the kid level while you slowly lower yourself to the ground near him.  Not touching him, but close.

“I just… I lived my whole life stuck in one spot, wanting to see the galaxy,” you finally admit to him, staring at his chestplate but seeing the helmet tilt slightly in your peripheral.  “Sometimes it’s just… hard to see the galaxy and still be stuck in one spot, I guess.”

“…You want an adventure,” Din proposes quietly, and though there’s not a single hint of mockery in his voice, you suddenly feel like it’s really fucking dumb when he phrases it like that.  What are you, an eight year old?  Wanting to go on an adventure, see things you’ve never seen without any concept for real life?  Credits?  Time?  Resources?

You shrug a shoulder to make it seem like it’s no big deal.  Why is he even entertaining this right now?  “It’s stupid, I kn—”

“Like on Naboo,” he goes on, ignoring your harsh self-criticism, not allowing you the ability to even get it out once he heard the first couple words.  “Going through the forest, seeing that waterfall.  Someplace to find for yourself.  Explore.  Experience.”

You… you want it so badly that you think your eyes might tear up just hearing the words coming out of his mouth when he says them like that.  Like he… just inherently understands.  He knows.

He knows you.  He’s not good with words and yet he found the single most succinct way to put what you thought was a complex yearning without even trying.  You can’t even answer him, he hit the target dead on and you’re left with nothing to say that wouldn’t just be a miserable lie.

“Okay,” Din says after a moment, giving you a small nod.

You’re lost now.  “…Okay?”

“You’re never going on a hunt with me,” he tells you very seriously, no room for arguing.  “Ever.  And not because you can’t handle it, understand?”  He inhales, quickly adding on to his response before you’re able to analyze it the way you want to.  “But if you want an adventure, then… I can try and find a way to give you one.”

Stars.  He’s… too kind.  You somehow feel like it’s more than you deserve.  You were honestly hoping to just shadow him on a hunt, watch him work and stay well out of the way when he needs you to.  Helping if you think you’d be of any help; an extra set of eyes and hands.  You would’ve been fine even if he didn’t apologize for raising his voice at you, he doesn’t have to do this for you.

“Thank you,” you say for the third time today, feeling like each one has somehow multiplied in sincerity.

“It can’t be right now,” he quickly tells you, apologetic but earnest about it.  “I have to find the quarry, and I’m supposed to meet with Karga again in a week.”

You never did let him know about the other part of the deal you made with Karga, you admit.  Four pucks, no hassling, no hard time constraints.  That’s what you shook on, but you just never found a way to bring it up to Din.  Especially since you’ve been so preoccupied with hiding your growing disappointment from him whenever he has to go.

“If…” you pause, wondering the best way to phrase this.  Yikes, this is a toughie.  “Um.  If Karga… I don’t know, hypothetically, if Karga decided to loosen the time constraints back to the way they were before the Corellian bounty, would you… still need to meet with him again in a week?”

You don’t think he even bothers shuffling through all those words.  “Say what you mean.  Please.”

“That was part of the deal I struck with him,” you quickly explain.  “You can hunt on your own timetable again and he’ll keep giving you four pucks like before, no more or less after this one extra quarry.  It’s like a… replacement of sorts, for the one I kept you from getting the time before.  If credits aren’t an issue, you can take more than a week.  But only if you want to, you don’t have to.  It’s just there and you should know, that’s all.”

He takes his time responding, lifting his helmet just the slightest bit in… surprise?  Maybe?

“You never told me you did that,” Din finally murmurs.

“Ah.  Well.”  You look down at the sleeping kid in your arms.  “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to… keep you here.”

It genuinely is a struggle for you, and you think he’s just now realizing that.  As much as you know he gets frustrated with you for always wanting him to be here when he physically can’t be, you think it’s only now that he’s truly realizing the lengths you go to in order to stomp that part of you down whenever you feel it threatening to come up.  You allowed him to leave every single time without telling him he could stay, knowing that all that was left for you was babysitting and target practice for days on end.

“Will you come over here?”  Din finally asks, and the tone of his voice just punches you in the chest.  So soft, so distressed from having you so close yet so far from him and just… full of a quiet hope, like he’s fully expecting you to say no.

“Will we fit?”  You whisper after a moment, even quieter.

He doesn’t answer, he just reaches for you.  You do your best to scoot over to him without waking the kid, and then Din pulls you the rest of the way once he has a grip.  You go right into his arms, laying sideways across his lap and supported by his steel embrace.

Oh, it’s not comfortable but you’ve also never been more fucking comfortable.  One of his knees lifts and allows you to rest your back against it without worrying about falling over sideways and down the ladder to the hull, thank the Maker.  The beskar pauldron over his shoulder digs into your cheek, but Din immediately pushes an arm up to nudge his helmet off and make it better for both of you.  Your face automatically fits into the crook of his neck while he sets the beskar on the bend of his knee, and then he silently cradles you while you do the same to his little boy… who does the same to his favorite metal ball.

“Ni tar’tayl su,” he murmurs into your hair, the one phrase in Mando’a you do recognize, especially with how beautiful and elegant it sounds rolling off his tongue.  “Forgive me.  Ni ceta.”

You sigh your contentment and melt into him, well aware that you’d still be more comfortable in bed.  But when you’re pressed hard against his chest like this and the baby is fast asleep in your arms, you get to feel both of them breathing.  Din’s right lung is probably bigger than the kid’s whole entire body, but you like the radically different cycles they go through.  You think you count six full breaths coming from the brown sack in your palms for every one of Din’s and two of yours.  It creates the most beautiful little symphony that sometimes gets a little off track, but always finds its way back around again.

“How do you say…”  You ask, feeling his hand slowly move down the curve of your spine, mindless and hypnotic.  It catches the edge of your shirt and goes underneath, and even though it’s not his bare hand and there’s no skin to skin, it still feels so good.  Not sexual or sensual even, just… a comfort to you.  “In Mando’a, how do you say… out of a trillion?”

Din’s breaths pause for just a second, his portion of the synchronized rhythm faltering.  Soon it starts back up, and his head turns to press his lips against your hair.

“I don’t think there’s a word for it,” he admits, gently brushing a thumb across the baby’s forehead while he snoozes.  “There could be, but I don’t know it.  I’d use… out of a million million millions.  Dayn alanyc bal alanyc bal alanyci.”

Your eyes begin to drift closed, exhausted from keeping them open after shedding a few tears earlier.  Your first fight and you’re already completely in love with him again after a handful of hours of sulking and one conversation.  How is that possible?  You’re normally a very forgiving person and it wouldn’t have taken much to make you feel better, you just never expected him to… actually want it from you that badly, care enough about it to get on the floor and ask.

Din doesn’t move the entire night through.  You assumed he’d make everyone get up at some point and move to the hull, but he doesn’t.  You fall asleep against his chest, comforted by the silence once again.

***

The next morning, Din quietly climbs into the cockpit while you’re humming in the shower.  You’re too busy basking in the indoor rainfall to feel the ship pull out of hyperspace, and then jump back into it a few moments after.

***

“How long do you think you’ll be this time?”  You ask two days later, sitting on the extended flattop of Din’s old cot and swinging your legs back and forth.  The baby is currently sitting on your lap and trying to roll the metal ball down your knee so you’ll kick it in the air, you think, because he keeps dropping it at different moments and forcing you to stop moving your legs to prevent accidentally denting a wall.  Every time the ball clatters to the floor, he makes a sad sound and it immediately lifts back up into his tiny hands for another try.

Heavy boots clang against the metal floor as Din drops down from the ladder, having just landed the Crest on the surface of whatever planet you’re on.  “I’m not leaving yet.”

“Oh…”  You blink, surprised.  “Okay.”

“I wanted to do some more training with you first, if that’s okay.  You can say no if you want, but maybe not,” Din drawls, striding over to the armory and opening it.  He carefully removes your blaster from the front shelf, speaking with his back to you.  “You’re going to run.”

“Um.”  You take a moment to glance around the enclosed hull, before turning to look back at him with your eyebrows raised.  “What, like… in place?”

Din sighs and closes the armory before leaning back against the doors, rubbing the face of the helmet in exasperation.  “From me, sweet girl.”

Your legs stop swinging, and the baby grumbles and slaps three fingers against your knee.  “What?”

“We’re on Sanctuary II,” he explains, turning to grab his black bag from one of the storage shelves.  He unzips it and reaches back into one of the larger pockets on his utility belt, before grabbing a handful of credits and stuffing them inside.  “It’s a moon, the New Republic occupied it years ago and made it a safe world for refugees and orphans of the Empire.  You’ll have your blaster, some credits, a communicator, and a day head start.  You’re going to run from me.  Show me how much you’ve learned.”

Is… he for real?

Right now?  You don’t even know how to respond, you’re too surprised.  Even when Din approaches and carefully trades the kid for your blaster, setting the bag down next to you on the metal bed, you still haven’t answered him.

“If you want?”  He asks after a moment, and you quickly jerk your head into a nod and jump off the raised platform, almost knocking into him with your sudden excitement.

“Okay!  Fuck yeah,” you grin, but Din shakes his head.

“Rules,” he says seriously, and you quickly do your best to frown, trying to compose your thrilled expression to match his tone.  “One.  This is a safe world, but things can always happen.  You have a blaster now, but it’s for emergencies only.  Do not shoot me with it.  Do you understand?”  You nod, but Din reaches forward to grab your elbow.  “Out loud, please.  For me.”

“I will not shoot you with this blaster,” you vow obediently, carefully cradling the precious firearm in your hands.

“Do not shoot me,” he repeats while pointing a leather finger at you.  “Do not… shoot at me.  Near me.  Around me.  No, just—don’t shoot.  Unless I am… very far away.  Okay?”

Well, he didn’t have to phrase it like that.  You frown, but acquiesce regardless.  “I will only resort to blastering if it’s an emergency and you are not around.”

He nods a thank you for putting it into better words.  “Second rule.  Since you don’t have a ship, I won’t either.  We’re on foot.  I don’t doubt you can hotwire a piece of junk to do what you need it to do, but I’d prefer it if you didn’t.  Good?”

Entirely accurate and entirely fair.  “Good.”

“Three,” he says.  “I’ll have the kid with me, which is both good and bad news for you.  Good news is he’ll slow me down, bad news is I can’t promise he won’t also try to intervene at some point if you’re serious about putting up a decent fight.  What I can promise is that I won’t encourage it.”

“Reassuring,” you nod.  “Also not really a rule.  Please continue.”

“Four.”  He pauses for a second.  “I think I’m wanted by the New Republic.”

You nearly jerk back.  “What?”

“I can’t confirm it and I’m not proud of it,” Din quickly tells you, probably the vaguest possible explanation he could provide.  “I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it.  I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.”

Is he fucking serious?  “I don’t want you to be arrested, Din, I—”

“I won’t be,” he assures you.  “They owe me one, I just don’t want to cash in yet.  Trust me.”

You… do.  Insanely, and against every logical thought flittering through your head, you do.  If you were ever going to bet money that someone would be able to navigate a safe world on foot without being caught by the numerous officers scattered across the surface, then you’d put all your credits on Din Djarin.  It… also shouldn’t really surprise you at all that the people seeking his incarceration also owe him a favor, should it?  It actually sounds right on par for him.  “Okay.”

“Fifth, and this one is important, so listen up,” he continues gruffly.  “You check in with me tonight over the e-comm, alright?  I don’t care where you are or how safe this planet is, if you don’t check in, I’ll come find you before the sun rises.  Say you understand me.”

“I understand you,” you tell him, your heart beginning to pound in your chest at the reality of this actually happening.  “I’ll check in tonight.”

“And if,” he goes on, “by some miracle, you manage to make it more than a full day, you check in with me tomorrow night, too.  Say it.”

“I will check in with you every single night for the full five days it’ll take you to find me,” you assert, the adrenaline starting to make you brash and giddy.  

Din tilts his helmet at you sternly.  It is a very, very stern tilt.  “Okay.  New plan, forget everything I just said.”

Your expression furrows.  “What’s the new plan?”

“That is the new plan,” he says, dead serious.  “Us.  Not doing this.”

“Oh, come on,” you grin cheekily up at him, poking his chestplate.  “I’m just giving you some motivation to find me quicker, that’s all.”

Din stares down at you, and… yeesh.  Tough crowd.

“Tell you what,” he finally grunts, sounding incredibly unamused with your jesting.  “If you can last that long with only a day head start, I’ll let you come with me to collect the fifth quarry.  You can even cuff the bastard yourself.”

You know it’s just because he’s rightly confident in his own deadly skill, but hearing him propose the possibility still shoots a thrill down your spine.  “Oh ho, you are gonna regret saying that, shiny,” you beam up at him, starting to hop back and forth on each foot with excitement.

“But if I’m able to find you, you can’t ask me ever again,” he finishes shortly, and you immediately go still in front of him.

“What?”

“If I’m able to find you in five days, I don’t want to hear about you coming with me on a hunt and you can’t ever ask me not to go on one,” Din tells you, his voice rough and gravelly through the modulator.  Not mean or harsh, but firm.  “From now on, it’ll be off-limits.”

You… take a moment, not knowing if you should feel scolded or not.  When you don’t immediately say anything in response, he sighs and turns the helmet away from you.

“Leaving is hard enough as it is,” he mutters, looking at the ground.  “Hearing you ask… makes it impossible.”

You slowly lower your gaze to the floor as well, feeling your heart constrict tight in your chest.  There’s a real pull under his voice, telling you that information even though it sounds like he doesn’t really want to admit it out loud.  It… really is a struggle for him too, then.  You understand.

“Okay,” you nod.  There’s not a single part of you that actually thinks you’ll be able to stay hidden from him for five days while stuck on foot, so this is essentially a given.  You’re not thrilled about the idea, but you’re going to do your best to respect it nonetheless, especially if he cares enough to put off hunting and allow you this experience for yourself.  It’s a better compromise than you ever imagined, and you’ll do everything you can to hold up your side of the bargain.

Din clears his throat and straightens his spine, turning the visor until it faces you head on once more.  “Final rule.  I reserve the right to break any rule we just agreed to, or any fucking rule in this galaxy to keep you safe.  Good?”

Your cheeks flush with heat, your stomach suddenly filling with butterflies.  He doesn’t do that.  Din says what he says or he doesn’t say anything at all, there’s no… taking things back, he’s already breaking his own code.

“What happened to The Way says no take-backs?”  You ask quietly.

“This is my way,” he answers you.  Quick, not even taking a moment to think about it, before pulling out a fancy looking wristwatch thing and clipping it on you himself.  “This is your communicator.  It takes more power than the one you have now but it’ll reach a further distance.  I have one just like it, they’re locked into the same frequency and timesynced together, and the batteries need to be charged every three days.  If you make it that long, I’ll remind you.”  Din grabs the bag while you slide your arm into it, helping you hook it around your shoulder with one hand while he cradles the kid in his other.  Your heart is pounding now, pumping with adrenaline as he pulls you towards the middle of the hull and then wraps an arm around you.

“Hey,” he murmurs, pulling you tight to him and pressing the helmet to the crown of your head.  His voice is barely a whisper through the modulator.  “Gar darasuum.”  For an eternity.

You find some way to wrap your arms around him, even with your blaster in your hand and the kid hanging out in his dad’s other arm.

“Dayn alanyc, bal alanyc, bal alanyci,” you murmur dutifully against the beskar chestplate, knowing your accent is probably butchering the words but hoping they still carry the same sentiment.

And then you’re squeeeeeezed hard enough to get a little air out of you, before you’re let go and he turns around, pressing a button on his vambrace so the ramp begins to lower.

It’s bright outside but not too bright, and everything is warm and gentle and breezy, right in the middle of a lush plain.  You inhale the fresh air into your lungs, looking out across the wide open field, having no fucking clue this is where your day would be leading when you woke up this morning.  Oh Maker, it’s gorgeous here.  Not like Naboo, where every single thing is picturesque and fit for an e-card, but in a soft, understated kind of way.  The sky is a canvas of swirling pastel clouds, pale pinks and yellows and blues, and the communicator on your wrist lets you know that it’s just after noon here.

You take one single step down the ramp, before immediately stopping and turning around to bite your lip at him.

“How am I… how am I supposed to outrun you?”  You ask, already clueless.  “You’re too good, better than me at everything.”

“That’s not true,” Din reminds you sternly, grabbing your hand at your side.  “You already know who’s after you, that’s an advantage nobody else has ever had against me.  You know how I think.  I don’t know how, but sometimes it’s like you can…”  He slowly shakes his head.  “See me.  Through the metal.”

“But… but that works both ways,” you point out, breathless at hearing him say that but needing to focus right now.  “You know me, too—you’ll know exactly where I—”

He shakes his head again, but quickly this time.  “Remember what I told you a long time ago?  What your best weapon is?”

You… do not.  He told you so many things, and you’re assuming every single one of them is going to come into play during this endeavor if you want to outlast.  You’re going to have to think back and remember all of them individually, find the time to figure out your best plan of action based on the remarkably little you know about how he hunts.

“You’re smart, remember?”  Din murmurs, squeezing your fingers.  “Your mind works differently, it sees things in ways I’ll never be able to, not even with this helmet.  So…”  He shrugs a shoulder like it’s the simplest thing in the galaxy.  “Don’t try to outrun, okay?  Just try to outsmart.”

You give him a nod after a moment, still not really sure about it, before giving his hand one last squeeze in return and eventually letting go.  

Outsmart.  Outsmart him, use what you know about him to be the most elusive quarry he’s ever hunted down.

As you make your way down the ramp, you’re already thinking.  His helmet tracks footprints, that’s a thing you know.  You’ll have to find someone to trade shoes with, then—yours aren’t too beat up, maybe you can find a local who’d appreciate a better pair.  Are you going to a city?  Would there be one in walking distance?  The wilderness won’t work, you’ll be too exposed and it would make you an easy target for either him or wild animals.  The weather seems clear here though, and you don’t think you’ll need to worry about rain or snow, but if—

“Oh—but when you do see me,” Din decides to add when your feet finally touch the grass, and you pause once more to turn around and look at him.  He stays quiet for a second, studying you through the helmet for too long.  Like the anticipation is getting to him already.

You bite your lip back at him and adjust the bag on your shoulder, tummy swirling with nerves and excitement.  He tilts the visor up, gazing down at you from the hull with the kid tucked in his arms.

“Try to outrun,” he says gruffly, before turning back into the ship and letting the ramp slowly close behind him.

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #smut #angst #hurt/comfort #reader insert #the mandalorian #rough day #no-droids

[angsthology]

hi! can i please request angst with gyeongsu where instead of him turning its the reader? tysm is advance!

AH NO, THANK *YOU* i have actually been meaning to do something like this (again) but i keep forgetting abt it ha. anyway i hope this lives up to your expectations, thank u ily (u probably wont love me back after this, its ok) <3

Do it for me and for you | Han Gyeong-su

warnings; aouad canon typical violence, lee na-yeon (yes she is a warning), denial, angst, really bad really rushed (eh, kinda) writing. tell me if i miss anything. — 1.8k words

pairings/characters (in order of appearance); best friend!lee su-hyeok & gn!reader, lee cheong-san, park sun-hwa, lee na-yeon, gn!reader/han gyeong-su.

disclaimer; please keep in mind that english nor korean is my first language so I do apologize if there are any mistakes and/or such, feel free to correct me if im wrong.

a/n; i went through not one but THREE drafts before deciding which one was the one im feeling... (and i still hate it) im so burnt out you guys this is word spew. im also bad at titles ... if u havent noticed (changed the last one bc didnt rlly fit)

“Push it! Just push it away!”

You watched as Su-hyeok struggles to keep the zombie away and push it off as it kept dangling and holding on like it had the will to live (it did but, well, y’know).

You debated on what you were about to do, but what else can you do, no one else was going to have the initiative to help.

Exhaling a breath and bracing yourself, you exclaimed, “Out of the way!” Thankfully, said boy noticed you on time to move his body away from the window, giving you the perfect aim. The bottom of your sneakers collided with the undead’s chest, giving enough force and letting it fall off the rope (hose?) and onto the ground.

Unfortunately for you, that much force has led you too far out the window. Somewhat losing control, your right leg kept moving forward and dangling itself out the window, some shards of glass from the broken window cutting your thigh. You yelped in surprise as you almost followed the zombie to the ground. Now with half of your body out you panicked even more with the pain on your upper thigh, “A little help here, for fuck’s sake!” your panicked complaints seemed to bring your friends back to reality.

Thankfully, Su-hyeok – being the closest one to the window – caught your other leg that was still inside, holding onto your sneaker with strength. You let yourself breathe for a short while before feeling your shoe slipping off (which made not only you but everyone else panic).

“Bare-su!” you scolded.

“Sorry!” he frantically apologized, grabbing a hold of your leg properly as you kept dangling by Su-hyeok’s grip and that only (not that you didn’t trust him, you did, but he was bound to get tired soon). Then the boy looked back at the others who just stood there stunned, “Stop standing there! Help me!”

That seemed to bring the rest back to reality (again, sigh) and running up next to Su-hyeok and grabbed onto your leg and slowly pulling you back in while some of the others removed the shards of glass away so you could get back in safely. When your body was finally within arm-length, Cheong-san grabbed your arm as he helped you in while the others tell you to be careful and watch out for glass.

Finally, you landed back safely inside, letting yourself breathe.

“You alright?” you heard someone ask (you couldn’t bother to see who it was).

“Yeah, sure, why not.” You answered breathlessly.

Your mind was far too occupied by the pumping adrenaline in your body to notice any injuries but luckily your friend paid attention enough, “Ah– you’re bleeding!” warned Gyeong-su.

You looked up in exhaustion, “Huh?” the boy pointed at your thigh, the fabric of your uniform split and blood seeping through it, making the already dark green color even darker. “Oh.” Was all you could say before you feel yourself blacking out.

Almost.

You felt hard slap on your face before you could fall into the unconsciousness.

“Su-hyeok!” scolded Ms. Park.

He only stared back at the teacher, “They were about to pass out!” he reasoned poorly.

“That didn’t mean you could hit them!”

The group was about to argue further when you groaned, “Bare-su-ah, I’ll kill you.”

His eyes snapped to you, “Ah, neo ttong-gae, your ass would’ve been splattered on the ground if it weren’t for me.” He cursed.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” you managed to gather your energy to get yourself up—and stumbling—with the help of your friends. Then you paused, looking back at Su-hyeok, “Did you just call me a butthead?” said boy looked back at you then giving you a sarcastic smile.

Everyone seemed to get on with their own things after that, seeing as you were pretty much back to normal (after hearing the multiple curses that were exchanged between you and Su-hyeok). But of course, she was just paying attention to every detail.

“Hey,” you heard her voice coming from your far right as you were grabbing something on the table while snickering over something—probably very stupid—one of your friends had said. You looked up innocently to that skeptical, irritated, and not to mention disgusted look she always had when she’s addressing some people (you included).

“Yeah?”

“Were you bitten?” her voice surprisingly calm—yet irritating still—which still didn’t mean any good.

You couldn’t help but scoff — of course she was going to focus on that factor instead of expressing her gratitude to you for saving not just her, but everyone’s lives. No ‘thank you’ or ‘are you okay?’ (In a way that she actually cares about your well-being and not just the future of hers being at stake).

But you knew her well enough to not press onto that further and make her make it a bigger argument than it’s supposed to be (which itself was going to be pretty big considering who she was the one who started it—and, you know, typical Lee Na-yeon behavior).

“You’re welcome.” You said smugly with a forced smile playing on your lips.

She whined in annoyance, “Were you or were you not, bitten?” she insisted.

Before you could say anything, another voice came in defense for you. “Yah—can’t you be grateful for once in your life?” you turned around to see Gyeong-su already standing behind you, his eyes flared with anger (that he tried to reduce to a minimal—and failing). “They just saved your life, least you could do is show some gratitude.”

Na-yeon rolled her eyes at the boy, “I’ll show some gratitude when they don’t turn and kill us all.”

You cleared your throat, “Okay then, go ahead; time and place are welcome.” You said smugly while leaning against the table.

She rolled her eyes then pointing at your leg, just above your ankle.

You were beyond annoyed by her but you couldn’t help check what exactly it was that she saw out of curiosity.

Unfortunately, she was right.

All of your emotions quickly dissolved into one of worry and horror.

“Y/N–”

“No.”

Your voice was low, hands shaking as they raised, your eyes scanning over them as if looking for something else — nothing. Only the visible anxiety that made itself present in the form of you quivering hands.

Your feet only moving itself backwards, slow steps as everyone stared at you with worry.

It was silent for a good few moments. You can hear someone inhale sharply, almost saying something—but they were quickly cut off by you.

“I should go.” Your voice shaky but firm. Shaky at the fear that was creeping upon yourself, firmness of your truthful statement.

It was true, you were scared shitless for yourself, but you knew there was nothing else you could do but leave. You didn’t want to hurt anyone—though you probably will after you’ve completely lost your mind, but if you leave now, you would at least not have your last memory of all of your friends staring at you with fear, you will also have the least peace of mind knowing that your friends would be further away from your soon-will-be deathly grasp.

“Y/N—”

“GET AWAY FROM ME,” you snapped, tears that were pooling your eyes, dropped slowly. Looking up, you saw the one person who you’d rather have the farthest away from you right now. His eyes held sadness like your own, soft brown eyes turned weak, the liveliness and playfulness they once held turned to sorrow. Your eyes never left his, you can feel the guilt creeping up on you at the tears that slowly collected in his eyes. “I’m sorry…” you mumbled to all but him.

He wanted to say something, anything. But the thought of opening his mouth only brought a sob up his throat. He couldn’t breathe, his unsaid words were choking him, anything that comes up feels like bile. His eyes stung as he held back the waterfall that could eventually make him combust. He felt hopeless—he was hopeless. You were standing there in front of him with so much guilt in fear, he never imagined seeing you like this.

His actions moved faster than any of his words can.

The boy moved in a quick, swift motion, grabbing ahold of you in his arms before you could protest (alas, you still did) and hold onto you like you were his lifeline—and you are (or, y’know, were), as he is to you. You hated the fact that he was this close to you. He was too close. Way too close.

You were practically dying in his arms as minutes passed, you still fought his grip but he didn’t budge. He doesn’t let you go. He never wants to. Even if it’ll kill him.

He loves you. Every part of you. Even the parts that’ll eventually kill him.

But you couldn’t have that.

As said before, he was your lifeline. And you can’t have the gruesome thought that you had killed your lifeline. That was the last thing you would ever want—even if it was the first thing he would want.

Feeling the liquid metallic drip down your nose, you gathered up all the strength you had—which surprisingly increased after getting bit—and pushed him away. You wouldn’t dare look up, knowing the sight would break you.

“GET THEM OUT NOW!” yelled the pink-cardiganed girl once more. No one even had the energy to tell her to shut her trap, they were all busy processing their own emotions. No matter how many times it’d happened, how many times it will happen (God-forbid), watching one of your friends slowly lose themselves will never be easy, and it’ll never get easier.

Eyes were stained red, though yours for a whole different reason. Su-hyeok and Cheong-san took the initiative to get a grip on Gyeong-su who was ready to bolt towards you and encase you in his death-grip.

You could feel yourself shut down one by one—you felt yourself losing yourself.

Your feet manage to take slow steps backwards towards the broken window, your hands fell at your back, looking for the frame, not even bothering the sharp edges of the broken window.

No one tried to stop you—well, no one else did.

“Y/N-ah! C’mon, you’re fine, you don’t have to do anythi— LET GO OF ME,” he fought and fought to get out of the two boys’ grip, but they—well, Su-hyeok mostly—were much stronger than him. “Don’t be stupid, come on! You’re okay, why are you doing this?” his words became more choked as he begged for you to stay.

Your heart broke at every. Single. One of them.

Lowering your head as you still faced out the window, you shut your eyes tighter at the tears that pooled.

You can feel yourself turning again.

With a shaky voice and a dying heart, you ignored the begs of the person you love most—and will always love. “I’m sorry everyone, stay alive, yeah? Do it for me—or not, I’m not your boss.” You chuckled a little, “This is where we part ways; see you in our next life, I look forward to meeting you all again.” A small sad smile crept into your face for the last time before falling into your imminent death.

You heard a loud scream of anguish as you fall, sooner or later fading with everything else.

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