#and doesn’t scheme to screw people over all day every day like someone else that comes to
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spoilers for tbosas ahead
the thing that makes me so sick about songbirds and snakes is that throughout the hunger games portion of the book snow is just riddled with this jealousy and fear that sejanus is going to usurp him and take his place like some kind of imposter when in reality sejanus has no intent to do anything of the sort he is literally just trying to survive and navigate his newfound batshit circumstances in which he finds himself surrounded by some evil ass people
and then in the end it’s snow that ends up sliding neatly into the gap that sejanus’s death left. snow is the one who basically became the plinth’s foster son (for lack of a better term) even after he was indirectly (or, let’s be real, definitely directly) responsible for sejanus being hanged in the first place. and i don’t think he even planned for things to happen that way, but when the opportunity arose he just didn’t even see anything ironic or wrong or fucked up about that. he was just like “neato” and became a dictator
#tbosas spoilers#the ballad of songbirds and snakes spoilers#tbosas#the hunger games#thg#coriolanus snow#sejanus plinth#this is just one of the many examples of how deeply fucked up of a person snow is#ofc he’s like what a horrible thing to happen to someone when HE is the one it’s happening to#but as soon as ma plinth comes knocking at his door and is like#we conveniently need a new heir#he has no remorse about doing the very thing he thought was sejanus’s goal from the beginning#and said goal was one of the main reasons he didn’t like or trust sejanus#even tho sejanus was actually just a Normal guy#and doesn’t scheme to screw people over all day every day like someone else that comes to#mind#fuck snow
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Ask Me Again Tomorrow
gif credit @pedros-pascal
Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 16.3K
Warnings: SMUTTTTT, following/stalking, some fluffy moments but mostly just a lil action and interaction, I don’t think there’s any other warning besides language and the smut (comm sex WITH A TWIST YALLLLL) but if you happen to find something else that warrants a tag, please let me know and I will do so accordingly!
A/N: The response to this story has grown beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined and I genuinely thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the privilege of writing for you. Hope this one ends up being okay and I’ll get to work on the next chapter soon!
***
Headstart—12:17pm:
The sky is so pretty. There isn’t much to look at on the surface—rolling hills and plains, grassy but with dry bare spots breaking up the green stretches, but the sky. It’s an oil painting above you, pastel swishes of yellows and pinks and purples with an enormous ringed planet taking up half the horizon and another sizable moon hanging high.
You should probably be running. Like, for real sprinting, but you can’t push yourself to go faster than a brisk walk. It’s so… free out here, more hills springing up every time you get to the top of the next, warm air filling your lungs. Even though you know realistically that the beginning will likely be the hardest—where you need to focus most on running and putting distance between you instead of hiding—truth be told, you’re not foreseeing making it more than a full day. You’re going to try, obviously, but in the grand scheme, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he finds you tomorrow. So, instead of wasting all your energy going as fast as you physically can right out of the gate, you just decide to stroll and think for a little bit.
You know what your goal is. Obviously, to last as long as you can, but more specifically… well, if Din is going to chase after you, then he’s going to try to think like you. Anticipate your movements, if he can’t already see the tracks you leave plain as day. Very soon, he’ll be walking this same exact pathing, following the footprints you’re leaving behind, but if you’re ever able to shake him or throw him off course, he doesn’t have a tracking fob. He doesn’t have any mechanical device that points him in your direction—if you can lose him with the footprints, then he’ll have to rely solely on predicting you. Which means you need to think… exactly the opposite of yourself if you want to outsmart him.
That’s harder than it sounds though, because… is he going to predict you predicting him? At what point does it stop? You somehow have trouble seeing this as an advantage the way he said it would be—you almost wish you had someone else chasing you, someone you didn’t know and someone who didn’t know you if only so this paradox could end before it begins.
You’re walking for about ten minutes before spotting a dirt road in the distance. There’s a person following it in the direction of the sun—you don’t know this planet’s magnetic field but you do know it’s after noon and the sun would set on Arvala-7 in the west, so that’s what you’ll call it for now. You call out to them as soon as you’re in range, and the stranger turns to you.
“Excuse me!” It’s a woman, you see it as you get closer. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but can you tell me where this road leads?”
She removes a sheer yellow shawl covering her dark hair and gives you a friendly smile. “Hello,” the lady greets, before spinning around and pointing back the way she came. “Osiruu is a few hours that way. There’s not much there, but it will take you to G’ila, a transport hub with many opportunities for drifters, or Nariss, the capital. I’m on my way to Shabeth,” she points in the other direction. “It’s far—a day’s walk, but it’s a holy place and offers quite the view. I would be glad for the company, but I understand its lack of practical appeal.”
So this place is safe enough to be inviting strangers along on your travels, noted. You’re going to have to make the decision right now, then. Which path should you take?
Something deep inside you tells you that you want to see this holy place, and just from a few sentences, you already like this woman and feel safe with her. But then all of a sudden, you remember something.
Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry, Din’s voice drifts back to you, sounding soft and distant from the dark forests of Naboo. Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people. Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring. But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists. The ones that don’t ever put up a fight.
You suppose you should decide what kind of quarry you want to be. Friendly company and a view is something you normally crave—it’s something your soul speaks to after going without it for so long during your previous life. You never pictured yourself as the fighting type. When Din first asked you, you told him you wouldn’t run from him if he was chasing you, and choosing to accompany this kind stranger to her destination is essentially just that. Sacrificing a chase for a pretty view.
“Does Shabeth have a sizable population?” You ask her, and she shakes her head.
“It’s the sight of an annual pilgrimage that happens in a few months, but it’s beautiful there and I like to go whenever I can,” she tells you with a soft smile. “But there’s nothing for miles outside it, I’m afraid.”
Your footprints will lead directly there. He’ll find you easily.
“It sounds very nice, but I need to find somewhere with a lot of people,” you give her an apologetic smile. Truly, you think she would’ve made for a nice friend. “Thank you for your help, though, and good luck with your journey! I hope we meet again.”
“Do you need any food or supplies?” She asks you, and you stop short of passing her by. “I don’t have much with me, but know what it’s like to be a newcomer to Sanctuary II. I’d be glad to help.”
Good Maker, is this how everybody is here or did you just hit the jackpot with this lady? She seems like… you, almost. Her voice is gentle, she looks like she’d give nice hugs. You’re about to politely turn her down, but then you realize the brilliant opportunity that’s presented itself in her image.
“Actually, this might sound like a really strange question, but…” you tell her, before looking down at her feet. “Wanna trade shoes with me?”
***
Headstart—6:12pm:
You don’t think it’ll work, but as you walk into a small settlement a few hours later in a unfamiliar and worn pair of sandals, you decide that you’ll need to do this as often as possible. You can’t come up with anything else that’ll throw him off your physical trail besides constantly switching shoes—is that bad? Are you just an idiot with no hope? You’ve had—you check your watch—like, five hours to think of a game plan, and all you’ve come up with is shoes? You’re screwed.
At least there’s food here. Plenty. There’s vendors stationed along the street, multiple people passing by and going about their business. Osiruu, that nice woman said—not much here, but you think she was wrong. There’s children giggling and jumping rope on the corner, a shopkeeper sweeping her storefront, a graying man with an empty cup plucking an unfamiliar melody on an unfamiliar instrument—and while your tummy growls and you know you should quickly buy supplies and be on your way, you still stop for just a few minutes to listen.
It’s a lovely tune. You drop a few credits in his cup after he finishes and find yourself humming it as you look at the plethora of goods being offered by the vendors. Water, food—you buy enough of everything to sustain you for at least a couple days, not wanting to go hungry but also feeling realistic over optimistic. The cuisine is foreign and you just point to things that look appetizing since you’re not sure about the name or pronunciation, but after paying and taking a bite into a rather large piece of purple fruit, your eyes nearly cross at how sweet and tasty it is. Holy Maker, that might just be the best thing you’ve ever tasted. You ask for two more after you finish the first, tucking one in your backpack next to your blaster and munching on the other as you keep browsing.
Suddenly you see shoes—yes. Fucking shoes, your salvation. You take a good look at all your options, of which, there aren’t many. Generic men's, women's, and children's, all in the same color and design. It’s good in a way—you see most people walking around in the same type of clothing here and you pray there’s not a way for him to track your gait or the whole thing is a bust, but truthfully, what you’re most worried about is the fact that you’ll create a brand new set of footprints wherever your old ones disappear. Unless you trade with someone else, you won’t ever have a back pathing, you know that Din will probably be able to easily spot it.
“Three pairs of these, please,” you point to the correct shoes and tell him your size, but then—“Oh wait, actually, can I actually have one of them that’s the next size up? And another that’s the same but in men's?”
The man behind the counter gives you an odd look but acquiesces, measuring the size of your preferred pair to multiple men’s shoes to find one that looks roughly the same—you doubt he’s ever had a request like this, but you’re also a generous tipper. His smile is grateful when you tell him to keep the change and then you’re stuffing the new shoes into your backpack and moving onward.
Would there be some kind of map here, you wonder? One that shows distance so you won’t waste time trying to reach a place you won’t be able to walk to? That lady said a transport hub and the capital are through this settlement, but she didn’t provide much information beyond that. You don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere when he finally catches up to you, you’ll need some place to hide.
When you stop to ask an elderly gentleman as he passes by, he freely provides you a basic gist. There’s a large forest beyond Osiruu—after it will be a road that passes through a few notable places, with a town called Sijua to the west that leads north to G’ila, and Devain to the east that leads northeast to Nariss. Both are within walking distance, though it may take a couple days to reach your destination.
Alright then. Through the forest, you suppose. You probably should’ve asked which way is east, but he’s already leaving and you don’t have the nerve to ask him to stop again. You have a finger point, that’s all you need. Making sure to use one of the small restrooms near the square before heading out, you eventually decide to make your way towards the direction he said this forest would be.
***
Headstart—6:58pm:
A bus.
You’re not going to take it, of course, but it’s the perfect solution to the problem you’ve been mulling over. It’s at the very edge of the small settlement, and you quickly speed up into a half-jog as soon as you hear its engine running.
“Last call for the seven o’clock!” A large man stationed near the doors yells as you approach. “Last bus to G’ila until tomorrow!”
The sun is setting and you have to extend your hand out in front of you to not be blinded by it. “Hello,” you give him a smile, before grabbing one of the handles on the side and stepping up onto the metal platform.
“Ah!” The man quickly stops you, moving to stand in front of the open doors. He’s as wide as he is tall, big enough that he blocks the entire exit. “That’ll be ten credits, miss.”
“Oh,” you say, patting your empty pockets and pulling your eyebrows inwards, trying not to move too much in case the sizable amount of credits you have stashed in your backpack happen to rattle. “Oh, no. I think I lost my wallet.”
He sighs. “Off the bus then please, miss. Come back tomorrow if you find it.”
You nod, leaning your forearm against the paneling and beginning to take your shoes off. “Will it be parked in the same place exactly?”
The driver looks curiously at you, clearly confused at both the strange question and your strange actions. “I’m sorry? Please—off the bus.”
“One second,” you tell him, now barefoot on the platform and digging into your backpack for the slightly larger sized shoes you bought earlier. The sound of credits clink against your blaster, but you hope he takes your lead in purposefully ignoring them. “Does the bus to G’ila park in this spot every single day?”
“Yes,” the man tells you impatiently, eyeing the way you’re stepping into the new pair with a subtle look of distaste. Everyone is polite here, it seems. “It will arrive back at seven am sharp with passengers from G’ila, in the same exact place. Please get off the bus.”
“Thank you, sir,” you tell him with a smile, watching him step to the side to allow you to drop down into the dirt again and continue on your way.
Brilliant, if you do say so your fucking self. Eliminate the need for a back pathing. All footprints facing this direction are going to be the first footprints, and all of them facing the opposite way are going to be the last; if Din manages to figure out you didn’t take the bus, then he won’t be able to tell which new set are yours and which belong to the other passengers. You pray the helmet can’t track gaits, but while you’re still paying enough attention, you make sure to keep your steps just slightly longer and even try placing more weight on the edges of your feet to make it look like you have a slightly higher arch than you actually do. You’d put a pebble inside of them or something, but you know you’re going to be walking through the night and you don’t want to commit to having your feet hurt more than you already know they’re going to.
Eventually the quaint shops and small houses disappear behind you, and the sun setting over the horizon turns the clouds above turn more dusty green and brown than yellow and pink. You hope Din opened up the ramp after you left. You want him to see the sky.
***
Headstart—9:34pm
The forest here is different from Naboo, too.
Maybe it was because you only saw it while you were in crisis-mode, but that forest seemed much scarier and darker than this one. The vegetation there was thick and overgrowing, but these trees look like they’ve never had leaves on them at all. No twigs or small branches that sprout from the trunks—the branches are all thick and gnarly, criss-crossing with each other with how close they’ve grown together. You bet their roots are practically one at this point, stretching for miles and miles but all sharing the same system.
Because there aren’t any leaves, there's nothing to block the moonlight shining clear and crystalline through the twisting maze of branches. Sanctuary II appears to have a sister moon—Sanctuary I, perhaps?—that’s likely a similar size, because it’s the same one you've seen all day and it’s barely moved a few degrees that you can tell. It must orbit incredibly close and be tidal-locked with this one then. Two massive satellites swinging around each other as they circle a ringed gas giant, but it makes a stunning view and reflects more than enough light to see.
The sky is deep blue and maroon and you’ve been walking in a straight line for hours, using the stationary moon overhead as your guide. The only issue with this plan that you’ve been able to come up with is that there’s no widely traveled path through the trees—even you can see your footprints and the clear trail you’re leaving behind. You’ve been trying for a while to figure out another clever evasion tactic, but it’s harder than it sounds. Can’t just change shoes again, that’ll be a dead giveaway. How do you lose him?
You stop for a second, reaching into your bag to grab some water and stay hydrated. Looking up once more at the beauty of the swirling colors peeking through the branches above you, you find yourself pausing after returning the bottle to your pack. There are… an atrocious number of branches up there, and all of them are long and tangled and thick. Sturdy.
You’ve… never climbed a tree before.
Without thinking much beyond that, you decide to bend your knees and jump, grabbing hold of one of the strong wooden tubes over your head and then swinging your legs up. Ouch—the bark scrapes against your palms and you have to hold on tight with your thighs while you shimmy yourself upwards, but at least the wood is solid as fuck. It takes you a minute or two, but you’re eventually able to shuffle yourself around so you’re straddling the thick branch, and then you look out to see the large collection of them criss-crossing in every direction around you.
Oof, this is dangerous. You know it even before you start. The gaps leading to the ground are bigger and more numerous than your potential pathing forward, but the only thing that gives you reassurance is how thick the wood is—you’re almost certain the branches aren’t going to break as long as you’re careful.
Okay. Shoes, these are too big for the kind of dexterity you’re going to need. You take them off slowly, being extra careful not to drop them, and then exchange them with the better-fitting pair you bought earlier, making a mental note that the sandals and the larger shoes are the two you’ve already worn. If your pursuer manages to catch on to the multiple footprint changes, your most recent ones should ideally just… disappear right there, shouldn’t they?
You grin, before struggling into a low crouch and looking around your wooden cage for a safe way forwards.
***
Headstart—11:37pm:
Water.
A blessing, and not because you’re thirsty. You have clean water in your bag and decades of habits formed in the desert to ensure you’re taking breaks and drinking enough—what you need is a way to disguise your footprints once you get back on the ground again. This was good; scuttling your way along thick and twisting branches for as long as you have was time-consuming and exhausting, but it allowed you to avoid touching the ground for at least a mile or so, which means he’ll have to comb that entire radius to look for your drop.
And it was fun.
You even found yourself giggling as you ducked and scooted, ignoring the bark scraping your skin and your panting breaths, the way your face got sweaty and hot. You had to do some brave maneuvers at tricky spots—jumping, balancing, hugging—but it almost just felt like an exciting little obstacle course for you and you’re honestly having a fucking blast right now.
Water, though. Water is an unexpected beauty, even more than you’ve always considered it to be. Water is an eroder. Not only powerful enough to smooth down the rough edges of strong elements over time, but it will hide your footprints as soon as you create them and leave no indication that you were ever there.
Eventually you see it—a babbling stream cutting a considerably wide line through the trees. You creep forward and hang tight to a branch above you to make sure you won’t fall, wiping the sweat on your brow with your other hand as you study the terrain. The water is… a considerable distance below you, maybe about ten or so feet, and there’s quite a few branches on either side that extend and hang out over it. You could probably find your way to the other side somehow, but something tells you to avoid the road beyond the forest if you can. It leads to multiple places, it would be better to follow the stream until you can eventually merge with it later.
That means you’re… fuck. You’re going to have to jump, aren’t you?
It’s the only way—you can’t leave footprints which means you’re going to need to land in the water. The trees clear too far from the shoreline, so you can’t shimmy down the trunk of one for a shorter fall. You’re going to have to climb out on one of those long branches until you’re suspended over the stream, and then you’re going to have to lower yourself as far as you can and then let go. With your height already accounting for at least half the distance plus the length of your arms as you hang, you should only have to drop two or three feet before reaching water, and then maybe another two feet to the floor under it. It looks forgiving enough—the moonlight shines and the stream is clear and you can mainly just see sand at the bottom, no sharp rocks or other potential dangers to be found. This… this is doable.
Okay. If you pull this off, you’re a badass. If you don’t break any bones or seriously injure yourself in any way, you deserve some kind of commendation. This is probably kiddie shit to Din, who keeps literal rockets strapped to his back and jumps out of ships flying thousands of feet above the ground, but this is a challenge for you and you’re feeling just excited enough to be up to it.
You’re eventually able to climb onto the thickest, sturdiest branch you can see that happens to hang over the water, straddling it and beginning to scoot. Your thighs are killing you at this point but you’re holding deathly tight to the wood, your movements becoming more and more cautious the further away from the trunk you get.
You’re directly above the water now, but you need to go out a little further. Aim for right in the middle so you don’t accidentally leave any tracks or prints on the shoreline if you need to catch yourself. The unfamiliar wood in this forest is admittedly sturdy, but the branch begins to subtly sag with your weight as you keep slowly scooting forward, and you’re just about to the correct spot when—
Day 1–12:00am:
“Sweet girl.”
—You nearly fucking fall.
“Maker,” you gasp, suddenly scrambling to catch yourself on the branch before you can plummet. It creaks and groans under your weight but supports you nonetheless, and when you’re one hundred percent certain it isn’t going to break, you jerk your head down to the communicator and see that it’s midnight, on the dot.
Shit.
Your heart slams against your ribs and your arms shake with adrenaline while you study it for just a moment longer, trying to calm the fuck down.
“Hey,” Din’s voice comes sharply from your wrist, crackling and tinny through the comm, nearly scaring you again. “Answer me.”
You don’t want to sacrifice your grip right now, but you have no doubt he’ll fly the Crest out to you if you don’t respond. So you quickly let go to press a button on the front face and then latch onto the branch tight once more, raising your voice because you can’t risk bringing your wrist up to your mouth to speak. You hope he’ll be able to hear without the microphone picking up the sound of the stream below. “Uh. Ahem. Hello. Yes?”
“You’re too quiet,” Din’s disembodied voice immediately informs you. “Or something on your side is too loud. There’s an earpiece built into the side of the communicator, take it out and use it instead.”
You study the wrist brace without moving, until you finally see what he’s talking about. It’s a small, wireless piece of machinery hidden on the left side of the electronic display, and you quickly pop it out and stuff it into your ear just in time to hear the sound of hydraulics clanging through the speaker as you clutch the branch again. You’d know that sound anywhere, it’s the ramp of the hull closing.
“Are you already on the move?” You ask him incredulously, your thighs starting to go numb with how deathly tight you’ve been squeezing this tree.
“Can’t sleep,” Din murmurs, sounding so much closer and deeper than before. Does he have his earpiece on under the helmet or something? Stars, is that why his voice sounds that good? It’s like it’s coming from inside your own head, bassy and rough. “Ready or not.”
You huff, your tummy going warm. Of course he can’t sleep, of course he’s going to look for you as soon as he’s allowed to. If he waited until morning, you’d probably be slightly offended. You try to slow your heart rate into something acceptable, but being this far above water and hearing his baritone murmur directly in your ear make it difficult. “But I’m… sleepy.”
“You’re always sleepy,” he tells you, and though you can’t actually hear him walking, the sound of his footsteps shake through his voice just slightly as he speaks.
“Hang on,” you huff, ducking your head to drag it against your shoulder, keeping the sweat from your eyes without using your hands, “you’re gonna make me stay up all night just because you do? This isn’t fair—”
“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”
Well. Fair.
Stars, you can’t stay here. You don’t know how long he wants to check-in for, but you’re also not confident with this branch’s ability to hold you for an extended time when you’re this far out from the trunk. You need to get in that stream one way or another, but now that he’s here, you have an extra problem. Din is going to hear you no matter what.
“Um. Can you give me a second?” You ask him, glancing around to make sure there’s no better way of doing this. Nope, you realize very quickly—this is the best idea you’ve got, and you don’t really know what that says about the quality of all your other ideas.
“What?” Din grunts shortly, but you just clear your throat.
“I need to… mute myself. Give me like… five minutes.”
“What are you talking abou—”
“You of all people cannot be upset about asking for five minutes of quiet,” you return testily, looking down at the distance to the stream once more. That’s a long way. You… you can’t swim obviously, but again, the water doesn’t look too deep. Just a couple feet likely, shouldn’t go past your knees.
It’s fitting that he doesn’t say anything, which you eventually take as disgruntled acceptance, so you quickly press the proper button on your wrist to silence the mic and then take a few deep breaths. You have a time limit now, you have to do this.
With incredible patience and precision, you eventually slide until you’re clutching the branch upside down like an only slightly quicker and less coordinated sloth, before slowly dropping your legs and hanging over the water.
It’s… admittedly a bit further down than you anticipated, or maybe that’s just you making things worse than they actually are, but you’re committed at this point and there’s no going back.
You close your eyes, count to three, and then you let go.
The sandy floor meets your feet with considerable force and you make a hell of a splash doing it, nearly falling but just barely managing to keep yourself balanced and upright at the last second. The water is cool and comes up just over your knees, your backpack miraculously didn’t get wet and all your limbs remain shaky but unbroken.
Okay. Okay, fucking success. It feels… thrilling, accomplishing a dangerous feat, and you quickly let out a loud whoop before clearing your throat, trying to sound normal as you press a button on the communicator’s face once more.
“Mando?” You ask, slightly out of breath. “Sorry about that, I’m back.”
Okay, now which way do you go? Downstream seems like the easier path after getting in so much unexpected exercise, so that’s the one you go with. As soon as you lift your foot from the sand bed, you watch your footprint almost immediately disappear through the moonlit water, and you bite your lip at just how well everything turned out for you.
After a moment though, you realize he hasn’t answered you. You look down at the communicator again to make sure you pressed the right thing. “Hello? Shiny?”
“Did you trade shoes with someone?” Din’s voice suddenly comes through the earpiece, sounding absolutely incredulous.
“Shit,” you tell him, trying not to smile. “Hoped that was gonna buy me more time.”
“It… might’ve, if you kept walking in the same direction as they were,” he informs you after a moment. “Your shoes went south, but this other pair got all the way out here just to turn back around again? Good idea, but the execution needs work.”
Maker, he’s smart. It was the first attempt at a footprint change so you weren’t thinking much beyond tricking the tracking mechanism in his helmet, you ignored his logic completely. Essentially, the exact opposite of what he told you to do. You like to think you’re getting better at it by this point, thinking beyond just the original exchange, and you’re hoping you’ll be able to trick him with at least one of the other fifty times you changed shoes today. You’ll have to see tomorrow night, if you can make it that long.
Also, the road you were on apparently goes north-south, that’s important information you make sure to take note of. The man in Osiruu said Devain and Nariss are to the east, and that Sijua and G’ila are westward, right? Remembering that you thought south was west earlier, you do some quick calculating and immediately come to a stop in the moving water as soon as you figure out your positioning, turning around and walking upstream instead.
You want to go to Nariss. The capital, and the biggest city in walking distance. Smart quarry go to populated places, places that make it nearly impossible to find people.
“Alright. Mando: one, Me: zero,” you finally acknowledge, swinging your backpack around and unzipping it to dig inside for another piece of fruit. You’ve been hungry for hours but had to use both hands to stay safe and far above the ground, it’s the perfect time to eat. “How’s the baby? Behaving himself?”
“He kept trying to follow you after you left,” comes Din’s response, and you stop with just your teeth piercing the flesh, wondering if you heard him right. You actually open your jaw and pull the fruit away with just a bite mark in it.
“You’re joking.” No fucking way, not that little demon.
“Wish I was,” he tells you solemnly. “Made a fuss, tried to open the ramp a few times. Didn’t cause any trouble after, just… pouted.”
That’s… that’s exactly how he responded the very first time Din left the kid on the ship with you instead of bringing him along. He threw a fit, tried to ditch you for his dad multiple times, and then ultimately just looked cute and mopey with his limp ears until Din came back. Do you think it’s just him rebelling against change? That has to be it, right?
“He better not be giving you any hints about where I am,” you warn his father. “I’d tell you to put him on but I don’t want the earpiece getting lost forever.”
You hear it. The softest laugh—barely a breath, coming after years of learning to make it just quiet enough not to be registered by the helmet. It gets picked up by the communicator in all its understated beauty when normally it’d be silent, and it’s just jarring enough to make you careless.
On your next step, you accidentally lift your foot too high and make a splash, and you already know you fucked up before he can say a single word.
“What’s that sound?”
You immediately stop moving, allowing the cool water to move as silently as possible past your stationary knees. Shit. “Uh. What sound?”
You think he purposefully doesn’t say anything. Probably because it feels a little like cheating, doesn’t it? It’s to your disadvantage, having him be able to catch hints from your environment when he’s the one who made check-ins mandatory, but then again… how smart do you think he is? Something tells you that he might not need to track you at all—what are the chances he stumbles upon this little stream and just naturally assumes you were clever enough to use it to hide your trail? Did you waste time trying to engineer a vanishing act when it’s not going to matter regardless?
Oh well, too late now. You quickly decide to change the subject.
“You should try the big purple fruit that one vendor sells when you get into Osiruu, by the way,” you tell him pleasantly, taking a big chomp out of it and then letting out an extended hum of delight that only really fucking good food or sex causes a person to make. “I’m eating one right now, it’s so good. Be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”
“Mm. Doubt it,” immediately comes his low response. Fucking immediately.
“Mando,” you gasp, scandalized and giddy enough that juice dribbles down your chin a bit.
“Are you having fun?” Din asks, instead of pushing the conversation any further in that direction. You don’t know if you’re thankful or disappointed with how quickly he decided to abort, but you take a moment to consider his question while swallowing and wiping your mouth. Not the answer, you know the answer—but why he bothered to ask. Did he know you were going to enjoy yourself as much as you have? Your only possible lament is how you’re talking to him through a communicator instead of having him next to you.
“I am,” you say warmly. “Be… be better if you were here, though.”
“Give me your coordinates,” Din proposes, and his voice is just low and rumbly enough to make you pause.
You’re really, really proud of yourself for only considering it for a few seconds before scoffing. “Psh. Nice try.”
“Was worth a shot,” he sighs through the earpiece, and you smile, taking another bite of fruit.
“Ask me again tomorrow,” you offer, grinning at the implication.
“We’ll see,” you hear him return, and though his tone doesn’t really change, you know he’s probably rolling his eyes. He won’t have to ask for your coordinates because he’ll already be there, but it’s nice to pretend for a while longer.
And then you both walk all through the night, sharing casual banter with each other for hours. He never once implies he wants to disconnect, even when you hit him with more nonsensical questions—
“What’s your favorite food?” (“I don’t have one.”)
“Okay, well what about just a food that you like?” (“I don’t like food that much.”)
“What do you mean? Everyone loves food.” (“Not me.”)
“Alright, well um. What’s your favorite color, then?” (“I don’t have one, either.”)
“Come on, you must have some kind of color you like.” (“What’s your favorite color?”)
“…Brown.” (“Then that’s my favorite, too.”)
—until the sun rises and you both say your goodbyes.
***
Day 1–6:15am:
You resolve to waiting until you see another person to allow your feet to touch dry land, figuring the longer you stay untraceable, the better off you’ll be. Your toes are wrinkly and your pantlegs and shoes have been drenched for hours, but then you finally spot a few fishermen standing upstream with their backs to you, speaking to each other in the dawning light. Two look to be full-grown, but there’s a smaller one in the middle, maybe a teenage boy, and you pause for a second, looking at the riverbank next to them. All their valuables—water, food, bait, extra rods, but also… their shoes.
Quietly, you reach into your backpack and remove the pair of men’s shoes you bought earlier. The ones closest to you on the shore seem to be the smallest, so you sneak over as silent as possible and rapidly make an exchange, fitting the new ones on your wet feet before allowing yourself to touch dry land and then speed walking away.
The ones you left him are newer and roughly the same size anyways—yikes, maybe slightly smaller now that you’re thinking about it—but at least you have a back pathing. If that kid decides to take your offering and the shoes fit, Din will follow him, and if he decides to go barefoot instead, he should still follow him, right? You’re not really aiming to trick him outright, mostly you just want him to waste more and more time. This likely wouldn’t work if there wasn’t a time limit attached to this hunt, but you’re going to do everything you can to disappear while he’s still far enough behind you.
***
Day 1–7:06am:
You get to Devain remarkably quickly after finding the correct road. The pit stop is much bigger than Osiruu, big enough to call an actual town instead of just a settlement, but still not large enough to feel concealed. You want a city. This place at least has cars and ships moving about and overhead respectively, but you’re looking for somewhere with lines. Somewhere that feels as cramped and busy as possible.
Still, you find a restroom to use and then decide to grab some more food for your trip, happily spotting your new favorite purple fruit in one of the shop windows. As you’re reaching out to hand the storekeeper the appropriate amount of credits, Din’s gruff voice comes through the earpiece so suddenly that you jump, nearly dropping them all on the counter. “Hey.”
“Holy shit, what?” You gasp, earning a confused look from the lady in front of you. You quickly shake your head at her and mouth an apology while Din grumbles in vexation.
“You were supposed to stay on foot.”
Ah. So he got to the bus, then. Okay.
“Oh,” you answer ambiguously, exchanging the money for your bag of food and giving her a polite smile. Din stays completely mute while you grab your snack, stuffing the rest of the goods in your backpack and then turning to leave—mute for so long that you have to double check you didn’t accidentally do it yourself.
“…Smart girl,” you finally hear him say. Quietly muttered under his breath, half proud of you and half frustrated for making his job more difficult. “Which one of these is yours then?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you announce, before taking a large bite as you leave the establishment and talking with your mouth full. “You really gotta try the purple fruit, it’s great.”
The communicator abruptly clicks to silence on his end without anything else and you laugh so unexpectedly that a few pieces of it fly out of your mouth.
***
Day 1–1:32pm:
Somewhere miles away from you, Din jerks to a halt in the middle of a forest.
He looks around the dirt floor, walks a few paces and hears the kid coo gently from his cradle. Behind the visor, the red footprints he’s circling are the last ones around for hundreds of meters, as far as his display can read.
His helmet slowly tilts upwards, and follows the endless maze of thick branches overhead.
With the beskar hiding his face, no one can see the way he slowly breaks into a beautiful grin.
***
Day 1–9:51pm:
Oh. Oh stars, you’re tired.
You’ve been walking all day without really seeing anything, not having any place to disguise your tracks in the wide open plains. You could’ve stuck to the road, but you started to feel the exhaustion creep in during the early afternoon and you wanted to be far away from other travelers and potential danger if you needed to rest. You knew this would be a long journey when you left Devain earlier—over a day’s walk, a group of children told you—you even tried skipping or jogging a bit to see if that would inspire more energy in you, but it didn’t help much.
The large cup of caf you bought while in town was drained hours ago and it didn’t help much either, probably because your exhaustion is more physical and not necessarily mental. It just felt like a sweet warm drink to sip before you go to sleep, that’s how much the caf helped. Still, you kept walking, kept moving forward even as you squinted in the setting sun, your feet aching from traveling for this long wearing unfamiliar shoes. The last time you changed them was hours ago, pulling another bus maneuver but with an air shuttle instead. Still, you don’t think it’ll be enough. You don’t even know where Din is but you already feel like you’re losing ground just knowing that he’s the one in pursuit.
You feel it—the hair standing up on your neck, the tingles in your hands, the stirring of your tummy—whatever the incessant gogogo that your instincts happen to scream when you’re in first place but you know the person behind you is quickly closing in. It’s day fucking one, it’s day one and you feel him in the wind as it brushes through your hair, you can’t even pause to rest because nobody knows better than you that he’s an absolute fucking machine when he wants to be. The kid may have powers beyond that which can be explained by the laws of nature, but Din is a force all his own. He drives you forward when everything inside you is telling you to stop. He keeps you awake and determined when you just desperately need to rest.
But that only goes so far. You’re bordering on two full days without sleep, and though you’d normally be able to suffer through, the constant movement is just brutal after being confined to a stationary ship for so long.
There’s a lone tree in the distance, you think. It’s hard to see. Not because it’s dark—well it is, just a bit darker tonight compared to last, but mostly because your eyelids have grown heavier and more burdensome than the bag around your shoulders. That looks like a good place to just sit for a second, right? Maybe eat some more food, try and wake yourself up? Yeah, that’s a good idea, you’ll head towards the tree and just… sit…
***
Day 2–12:00am:
Completely dead to the galaxy and sitting on your ass with your back against rough bark, the comm clicks and Din’s voice comes through the earpiece.
“Wake up.”
It startles you enough to make you lurch forward and jerk your head around in a panic, looking for any flash of beskar so you can instantly break opposite to it. You scramble on all fours to look around but you don’t see anything, not even behind the trunk when you crawl, and then you take a deep breath and use the bone of your wrists to rub your eyes vigorously after a moment, knowing your hands are filthy. “Fuck, how’d you—”
“You’re always sleepy,” Din repeats, and you collapse back into the tree with an exhausted groan, not entertained but not even having the energy to get mad about it.
“I… I gotta sleep,” you tell him, already feeling your body let go of its tension and search for the darkness of unconsciousness once more. “Shit. How d’you… mm. Stay awake all the time…”
“Sleep,” Din encourages, you can still hear him walking. “You need rest. I’ll see you soon.”
No—
“No,” you whine like a child, moaning and shoving yourself upright. Maker, you’re trying to focus, but asking that of yourself is almost impossible right now. Everything swims—you were dreaming, you think, but you can’t remember and it’s not important other than to emphasize how woozy you are. Things still feel like a dream, somehow.
You think he can hear your struggling through the comm, because the sound of his footsteps pause. “Go to sleep.”
“You go to sleep,” you tell him bluntly, giving your head a violent shake to try and wake you up. You want to slap your own cheek but you don’t want him to hear it. “I can’t sleep if you don’t.”
“I’ve have at least a couple more days in me before that happens,” Din murmurs, and you bet he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing to you. You start to slouch, hearing the voice he uses when he’s curled around your body in the darkness of the hull. So warm, so gentle. If you use your imagination, you can feel his fingers drawing slow circles on your back, the vibration of his low voice rumbling against your ear as you lay your head on his chest. “If I hunt you the way I’d hunt a quarry, I’m going to find you before you wake up.”
“Then I’ll jus’ have to… not let tha’ happen,” you slur. Even this close to unconsciousness, you try your best to throw in a misdirect. “Already… paid for the bed an’ everything.”
“Sure you did. You in another tree?”
You immediately frown even as your eyes drop closed, too tired to fight but still managing to sound upset. “You makin’ fun of me?” You ask him with a harumph. Genuinely, you’re not smart enough to figure it out right now.
“Not hardly,” Din sighs, sounding… you don’t know. Is that displeasure or not? It’s not immediately clear. Does it sound that way because you’re just dumb stupid right now? Or because Din can’t actually decide how he feels about it? “Lucky I heard water over the comm last night, I would’ve wasted hours in that forest.”
“Noooo,” you whine in response, trying to push yourself off the tree but tipping sideways in the process, “that’s not fair—”
“Fair wasn’t part of the rules,” he repeats himself again and… nope, you don’t even have the energy to snark something back. You just grumble your best imitation of him while you do everything you can to heave yourself upright. It’s pitiful, you lose your balance not even halfway through and just plop on the grass for a second and groan.
“Stop,” Din eventually orders through the earpiece, tired of it. “What’s sixteen times itself?”
You’re loopy to the point where you don’t even question why he decided to ask you that. You just furrow your brows for a second and try to think about it, before suddenly realizing you… don’t know, you can’t remember. Multiplication tables and squares up to twenty are elementary to you, you know them by heart. Sixteen times sixteen. One forty-four. No… no that doesn’t sound right, is that twelv—
You take way too long answering what would’ve been an immediate response two days ago.
“I’ll stop here for tonight,” Din tells you with a resolved sigh. “I won’t move until you wake up. Go to sleep. You’re putting yourself in danger, you can’t even do the basics.”
Later, this moment will come back to you. That problem isn’t basic, not many adults would be able to tell you very quickly that the answer is two fifty-six. You don’t even think Din would. You would, though. On Naboo, you used rapidly applied trigonometry in your head to find his location, and that was barely two minutes after waking up. You should know this. And he knows you.
But for right now, you don’t pay it a single lick of attention.
“You promise?” You ask quietly, voice incredibly small as your head tilts back towards the sky, already feeling yourself beginning to fall back into the darkness again.
“I promise,” he vows in return, gentle but a promise nonetheless. He doesn’t have to do this. You wouldn’t be able to keep going even if he didn’t offer up this temporary truce, but knowing he isn’t currently gaining ground on you makes the idea of sleep so much more welcoming, something you want to seek out instead of fight.
“Will you, um…” your expression furrows. How do you say this? You sigh, giving up before even trying to figure it out. “I’m… not in a bed. I’m outside.”
Din doesn’t say anything when you pause, and even through the haze wanting to take over, you know it’s going to sound needy. You want him to stay. Even in the midst of an adventure, you want him to stay, you want to hear him breathe as you rest, but there’s not really an integrous way to ask.
You don’t need to ask.
“I’ll keep the comm open and wake you when the sun rises,” comes his lulling baritone before you can elaborate anymore, enveloping you in comfort in this dreadfully uncomfortable bed of grass and dirt. “Sleep, sweet girl. I’m right here.”
***
Day 2–5:34am:
The sun shines over the hills and you lift your head up to squint your eyes at it, confused as fuck. Looking down at your wrist to check the time in the warm rays, hands and clothes dirty from laying on the ground that long—you stay groggy and clueless for just a moment longer, before your heart lurches when you remember Din’s promise to you.
You open your mouth to address him but then catch yourself just in time. Wait. Don’t panic. Listen.
Breathing. Slow and relaxed through the earpiece, a rhythm now branded into your memory from months of nights spent in pitch black. He’s… asleep.
Din is asleep? Seriously?
You can count like… twice that this has happened, and one of those was because he got you to touch him just right after closing up a wound on his back, and his body couldn’t handle the strain and passed out. You’re never awake when he’s asleep—you’re just not, it doesn’t happen. Din… sleeps like it’s just a choice for him, he doesn’t ever really need it. Almost like how he used to eat before he started sharing meals with you, he said he doesn’t even like food that much. You think he just severed all of those things long ago, things that are basic fundamentals of survival and operated like a bounty droid that lost its voice box. It’s… nice, feeling like you’re somehow giving back some of the things he lost. Unintentionally encouraging him to find sleep again. Making sure he eats more, listening to him speak.
You struggle to your feet as quietly as possible, hearing him continue to breathe slow and relaxed through the communicator. This isn’t purposeful, you don’t think he actually allowed it. He promised you, and Din doesn’t take shit back. If he tells you he’ll do something and he doesn’t follow through, it’s either out of his control or a mistake, it’s never been purposeful. He didn’t mean to fall asleep.
And, in other circumstances, you most definitely would not find some way to take advantage of this. You’d let him sleep and do other things in the meantime—make some food for you and the kid, find something on the Crest that isn’t spotless and clean until it is, or just… lay there next to him until he woke up. But… these circumstances are their own. You have to capitalize now, this is your chance. You passed out last night around… ten pm, you think it was, and then he promised to stop at midnight. That means you have to walk at least two hours before he wakes up if you want to prevent any loss of ground—you don’t know where he stopped, he could be a few miles back even.
You have to find Nariss—you have to. It’s your only option, if you keep trying to run, it’s just going to make it so much easier for him. Now is the time to hide. You know it hasn’t been long, it’s barely been two days since you first left the Crest but it feels like you’re already in endgame, already making moves in self-defense instead of actually planning your maneuvers ahead of time.
The capital should be half a day’s walk from here, then. As long as you get there, you think you’ll be okay.
***
Day 2–8:28am:
Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.
You immediately stop, seeing a busy road in the distance and glad you haven’t quite made it there yet, before trying to disguise your voice as drowsy. “Mm?”
“Shit,” he breathes, and you hear him get up, the sound of beskar moving as he grunts.
“Mpph,” you groan back, squinting your eyes to see if that’ll help sell the act. “I thought you… Mando, fuck, y’said you’d wake me when the sun came up.”
“I… fell asleep,” he admits, voice rough with it, sounding just as confused as you felt earlier.
“You said you had days in you before that happened,” you murmur, taking a deep breath and stretching your arms up above your head. Stars, your back hurts, how does he possibly manage to carry a fucking jet pack around all the time?
“Yeah, I…” He pauses for a moment and you bite your lip, not liking the quiet as soon as you hear it. “How long have you been up?”
Op. Not good. “Wha?”
He’s not falling for it. “How long?”
How in Maker’s name? This is impossible. How can you hope to hide from him when you can’t even manage to hide the smallest fucking truth from him? Can you salvage this somehow? “…Like ten minutes.”
“Least a few hours, then,” he sighs, and you get ready to hit him with the same line he used when you complained about his leg-up, opening your mouth as soon as you hear him speak. “That was smar—”
“Fair wasn’t part of—”
Oh. Well. Apparently you didn’t have a reason to feel shitty about deciding to haul ass while he was passed out even though you kind of ended up doing so anyways. There was no agreement besides that he wouldn’t move until you woke up. Reason is on your side, but it still feels a bit like you fucked him over. Is that valid or are you just so used to being nice that putting yourself first feels like a wrong you’ve committed?
“Don’t feel bad,” Din tells you, and you hear a soft coo in the background. It makes you smile the smallest bit, your shoulders relaxing even as they ache from carrying your pack around. “You should feel bad about stealing that poor kid’s shoes, though. He walked home barefoot.”
You smack your forehead. “It was just….”
“Yeah,” he scoffs when you don’t finish your sentence, and you can’t keep back a giggle. “Alright, I’m up now. See you when you get here.”
And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…
Uh. What the fuck was that?
No. Nope, you’re not going to get played. That was a brilliant attempt at fucking with you, but you’re not falling for it this time. You’ve grown since that night on Canto Bight, you know him, he can’t just say shit to fuck with your head and then smile at your flailing response from under the helmet anymore. You normally would stew in that last comment until it got to you, made you make a mistake most likely, but the more you think about it, the more certain you are that he has nothing. He was just trying to see if you’ll abandon your entire plan just by implying he already knows it. That’s beginner shit, you’re not falling for it. Din wanted to leave the conversation with the upper-hand since you gained at least an hour of extra ground while he slept. You’re certain of it.
***
Day 2–12:35pm:
Nariss is big. Nowhere near the size of Coruscanti sectors of course, where billions of people are packed from surface to exosphere and require oxygen recirculation towers to breathe at the very top, but just slightly bigger than you expected. It’s bustling and you haven’t even made it through the city gates yet—you’re approaching them and the large number of people waiting in line, seeing buildings stretch out for miles in front of you and grinning. Yes, this will work nicely.
As you peek over shoulders in the sizable crowd, you see only two or three people allowing people to enter one at a time… is that a biometric scanner?
Oh. That looks good and it also doesn’t look good at the same time. If Din’s safety meant nothing to you, you’d have no trouble whatsoever getting in line and waiting to do a retinal scan, but you immediately pause and consider the potential consequences.
Your dumb ass almost weighs the option of clicking the communicator on and asking his opinion. You’d give away your location in a heartbeat (if he doesn’t know it already) just because you’re worried he’d… what, exactly? Stand in line for an hour, take his helmet off in front of a crowd of people, have the system ping his scan, and then hang out and wait for New Republic reinforcements to show? You have to stop worrying about him. He’s not a baby, he can handle himself and you need to stop considering the possibility of taking a loss just so he doesn’t have to, even if the self-destructive sentiment feels ingrained in your nature to do so.
So you wait in line, moving at a slow pace but at least moving. While you’re standing there quietly, a man in front of you decides to strike up a conversation. You don’t come from a place with an excess of people, but the ones in your sector were friendly and did this kind of thing often, so perhaps for that reason, you decide to chat.
“Do you have some place to stay?” He asks at one point. So far the conversation has revolved around him—every time he asks about you, you deflect. He doesn’t need to know. “Nariss isn’t kind to drifters.”
This catches your attention, though. This is relevant. “What does that mean?”
“It’s expensive?” He scratches his blonde hair, giving you a soft smile. “Food, housing, all of it is way out of my price-range. I stay with my uncle and work overnights at the eastern docks. It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep a roof over our heads. We used to live in Gibrath, but then we moved to the city because he’s a good architect and they’re always expanding. It’s nice, of course, but really expensive.”
He’s handsome, you think… in kind of a boyish, charming way. Blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes. He doesn’t look much older than you, and maybe in another lifetime you would’ve found him appealing, but… you like darker features, you think. Someone a little less expressive. This guy… talks a lot.
“I thought this moon was a safe world for people displaced by the Empire,” you offer, taking a step forward as the entire crowd shifts.
“Sanctuary II is,” he comments. “The capital is safe, too—what, with all the orangies walking around,” he tilts his head to two jumpsuited guards trying to organize the glob of people so the line can move faster, rolling his eyes as if they’re some kind of joke. “But not… welcoming, not if you’re looking for a place to settle. You would’ve been better off in G’ila.”
“Is there anywhere you know that would take me for free?” You ask. You have quite a few credits left, but you don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in an inn. It’ll be the first place Din checks.
“Are you a virgin?” He returns, and you immediately pull back at the unexpected question, your heart thudding at the possibility of danger. The man’s sandy eyebrows shoot up at your response and he quickly apologizes—“Heavens, I’m so sorry to ask like that! It’s just… the only place I know is the Holy Keja Orphanage on the northern outskirts. Their signs say they only house children and teenagers, but I’ve heard from other girls your age that they’ll accept any woman as long as they’ve stayed pure in the eyes of the Maker.”
“Oh,” you say after a moment, leaning sideways to see just a few people standing in front of him. Good, this is almost over. “Um. Yep. That’s me.”
He smiles at you once more, giving you a nod. “When you get to the city, just go straight through. It’s about a mile outside of the gates, no more than a day’s walk from this side of town.”
Okay, that’s… interesting. You think about it while you thank him and begin to exchange polite goodbyes, moving up another step until he’s next in line. That might actually be a good move. Din could spend a long time in the city without ever finding you. Smart quarry go to populated places, but… smarter quarry defy the expectations placed upon them, right? He knows you’re smart, and even though you’re confident his “See you when you get here” was purely psychological fuckery, that also implies… at the very least, that he’s assuming there is a here to get to. Meaning, he knows you’re not going into the wilderness to evade him. He’s not going to comb the outskirts when there are so many places to hide within the city gates, with an entire perimeter of New Republic guards stationed around it. Even if he does, the signs will say only children and teenagers—categories you do not fall into.
The unnamed man is soon ushered forward but you stop him quickly. “Oh, by the way. I doubt this will happen, but if a man in a big metal suit with a tiny green baby happen to ask you the same thing, please don’t tell him what you just told me.”
He furrows his eyebrows at you and cocks his head, but smiles and agrees nonetheless.
***
Day 2–5:43pm:
You have an idea.
You’ve been working on it all afternoon, but you were hit with it the second you were looking for another pair of shoes to buy and find a clever way of putting on.
The cheapest ones were ridiculously overpriced, blonde dude was right. You blinked down at the tag and asked the salesman where the cheapest shoes in this part of town were, and then he just wrinkled his nose at you and shooed you out of the store. Granted, you slept in dirt and spent two days walking—you bet you reek, but he didn’t have to be like that.
Though, the man’s displeasure with you had an upside. You were holding a possible pair of pants and a shirt to buy when he threw you out, not yet having checked the atrocious pricetag on them, but it appeared as if he’d rather let you have them for free than rip them from your… admittedly, pretty filthy arms. Oh well, you weren’t complaining. Fancy clothes for free, score.
But now you’re here, and you have the best idea. You don’t need to change shoes, not yet. Why? Because you’ve figured out how to turn your incessant detriment into an advantage.
You’re in the middle of downtown, you think, maybe just some random crowded square, and there’s an inn in front of you. It’s fucking enormous, and you already know it’s gotta be incredibly expensive just looking at the sheer number of stories. It’s an eyesore, it sticks out. But that’s okay, because you’re only planning on staying for a night.
It’s also… right next to New Republic headquarters. Or fuck, at least a station of some sort, because they’re swarming in and out of the constant crowd, passing by the valet doors.
At first you naturally wanted to steer away from the jumpsuits, since you know they’re bad news for Din, but then you remember what he said before you left. 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.
It’s to your advantage, he said so himself. Everything lines up perfectly—the street is bustling, the inn is well protected, it’s nice—it’s everything you’re looking for.
And there’s another upside, see. An omnipresent, omniscient ghost in the form of a communicator clipped to your wrist right now. If Din is always going to be able to predict you, he’s always going to know when you’re lying, always be able to read you… then you’ll just have to let him.
Let him know. Let him know exactly where you are. Right in the middle of the most populated street you’ve seen thus far, a constant barrage of people walking by and New Republic officers patrolling. If you were planning on staying in the city, this would probably be your best option to hide. He could waste days here if you’re smart about it.
The concierge doesn’t appear too pleased with your lack of cleanliness and neither do you, honestly, but at least he allows you to book a suite for the night. It’s… not as bad as you were originally assuming, credits-wise, but it’s worth more than half your stash and you’re going to have to conserve from this point on. It shouldn’t be too bad—your destination is a holy orphanage, you’re sure they’ll have some extra food and a bed for you even if it won’t be ideal. Still, you think you’re going to enjoy some lavish experiences for once in your life before you go.
***
Day 2–11:54pm:
Alright, so this was the best idea ever. This is the shit.
You’re leaning back against a fluffy stack of pillows, squeaky clean from an absolutely glorious bath and watching the flickering drama on the large holonet display in front of you. You don’t have any idea what’s going on, as it’s being broadcast in Rodian, but you haven’t been able to change the frequency because it’s so fucking intense—somebody’s sister is their mother, you think? No, that must be a mistranslation, right?
You’re also in a robe. Yes, there is a motherfucking robe in here. And… and slippers, it’s like a dream. Do people normally wear slippers in bed? You do. Hell, maybe you should stay here, screw the credits and the chase. This mattress is even better than the one on Naboo and you’re basking in the luxury after being outdoors for so long.
The lights are off other than that and you’ve opened the drapes wide, knowing you’re on something like the fifteenth floor and nobody would be able to see you anyways. You just like being able to turn your head and look out at the sky. Violent and periwinkle tonight. You wonder if he’s looking, too.
Luckily, you snap yourself back out of it and glance down at the time on your communicator, quickly pressing a button on the remote to mute the Rodian show and then opening the line the moment the hour changes.
Day 3–12:00am:
“Hiya, Shiny,” you say before anything else, laying back and running a few fingers through your damp hair. Your eyes close against the flickering light, taking a slow, relaxed breath. Maker, this feels nice.
“You sound happy,” Din comments. Astute, you feel happy. Well… you’d obviously feel happier if he was here. Your eyes flick over to the open bathroom door, still steamy from your bubble bath earlier, imagining him walking through it completely naked and then climbing over you on the covers. You can only really picture it from the neck down—no, hang on… you can see his shaggy brown curls, that one spot on his forehead you know, how his facial hair would be dark and frame his mouth. No face, though. Missing just one fraction of him from your imagination, feeling incomplete but also somehow… complete in a way.
“I feel better after sleeping last night,” you tell him, purposefully leaving out the softness of the sheets underneath you, the sheer comfort of all this extravagance. You don’t need it, you’ll never need it, but it feels nice to have for once.
“I do, too,” he replies quietly, and your eyes flutter closed. You… miss him. This mattress would feel softer with him next to you. He’d probably be able to translate this show for you, even though you already know he’d fucking hate it. You can imagine it—you with your eyes closed, him propped up on an elbow next to you and grumbling vague descriptions of the nonsense happening on screen just to hear your chuckles. Adventures are great, but maybe they aren’t as great by yourself, you think.
“You should sleep tonight, too,” you encourage, but he scoffs.
“Not a chance,” Din mutters. “Oh, before I forget, we need to charge the communicators today.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” You ask him, glancing at all the multiple wireless charging outlets stationed around you. “I’m in the middle of nowhere.”
He doesn’t even take a fucking second before responding. “Good one.”
You grin up at the ceiling, warmth flooding you. You love him. Literally every single time, he just knows. Your curiosity is too overwhelming after this happening so often. Your plan to distract him relies on him being able to read you, but that doesn’t prevent you from wondering how he does it so accurately, time and time again. “How do you know?”
“You slept outside last night,” he immediately tells you, like that should mean anything to you.
Does he… does he truly know you well enough to know how much your back and shoulders hurt today? How much you were aching for a shower and clean clothes? A bed to sleep on that isn’t dirt or metal? You give into the accurate prediction with shameless honesty, not caring if he knows it’s the truth.
“This bed is soft,” you murmur gently, dragging your hand across the mattress next to you. “You should be here. I’d make you feel good.”
Admittedly, your comfort is making you a bit drowsy and you said it in the easiest way possible, but you didn’t necessarily mean it sexually. Well… you sort of did—you’d make him feel so good in this bed—but what you meant was more… comforting. He could take a bath, or a shower, and get all the grime off him. He could feel clean and unburdened, take a break instead of constantly moving around. The baby could have a whole bed to himself if he wanted, though you know he’d probably want to be on this one instead. You could all look at the sky together.
Din is quiet for a little bit, before his voice comes back through the earpiece. “Are you in an inn?”
“No,” you say, a little too quickly. Perfect, that sounded just right for a lie. You are lying, you absolutely are in an inn, the only difference is that you want him to catch on that it’s a lie, so… why does he take way too long before responding?
“Hm.”
What the fuck—why… how is it even physically possible? He read you that deeply from one single word? You’re not sure if he’s somehow psychic and figured the whole fucking thing out or if he just knows there’s something off, but it’s still enough to blow you away.
“Are you doing this on purpose?” You blurt without thinking.
“Doing what?” He grunts, sounding like he’s stepping over something, his breath changing intensity as he walks.
“If I look out this window right now, am I gonna see you standing out there just messing with me?” You don’t even know what to believe anymore.�� How do you beat this? If you don’t want him to know the truth, he’ll figure it out, and if you do want him to know the truth, he’ll still figure it out. His perception is unbelievable.
After a moment of silence, he murmurs gently through the comm. “I thought you said you were in the middle of nowhere.” It sounds like he’s smiling.
“I…” your eyes shift around awkwardly, “am…”
Din lets out a deep sigh. He’s right, that was bad, even for you. “I found your bed a few hours ago,” he admits. You close your eyes as you listen to him make his way closer to you, step by step. “I’m nowhere near the city yet. You have time to sleep.”
Your expression furrows and you frown. “Why are you helping me?”
“Why do you want me to think you’re in an inn?” He tosses back, and you huff.
“Because I’m trying to outsmart you but you make it really fucking difficult,” you grumble, not happy about him catching on so quick.
“You’ve also gained about four hours on me since we started.” His voice is gruff. You don’t know if he thinks it’s a good thing or a bad thing. “You should give yourself more credit. I thought I would’ve found you by now, never expected you to get all the way to Nariss. It’s… not good for me.”
The honesty creeping in makes you go soft. It makes you want to reciprocate, even if it’s dumb and you haven’t thought it all the way through. “Wanna know a secret?”
“Tell me.” His voice is a bed all its own, deep and gentle and safe.
You say it before you lose the nerve. “I might just turn around and walk back.”
His footsteps stop and you hear a small sound in the background, a quiet little baby noise that suddenly makes your heart ache. You’re comfortable but incredibly aware of how alone you are. People pass by on the streets below, cars and hoverbikes honk in the distance and you’re by yourself. For the first time in over a year, like you have been for years, you’re by yourself.
“Sweet girl,” Din sighs, and all of a sudden… you can feel his arms around you with it. You feel so… known, somehow. Every sentiment you could’ve possibly given in your last sentence, he relays his understanding back with his. He makes you feel loved with it. “Never wants to run.”
You don’t say anything, because you suddenly realize you’re totally fucking whipped, up down and sideways for his metal ass and the little floating grimlin that follows him around, and you would throw away the fifth quarry, adventure, the sky—literally everything if you could be with the both of them right now.
But again. You don’t have to say anything, he already knows. “Give me your coordinates.”
Your eyes pop open and you bite your lip. Oh, stars. You hate that you do genuinely consider it. He could be here, and very soon. With the jet pack, both of them could be here in less than an hour, probably. He could take a shower. Watch these stupid shows with you all night without needing to be on the move, help you build a bed of pillows for the kid on top of this one. You could be with both of them again, even if it’s only for a little while.
“Ask me again tomorrow,” you finally whisper, looking down at the soft white fabric of your robe, the way one of your slippers is falling off your foot as the holonet program continues to play on mute.
Din’s footsteps eventually start up again, and you both relax in silence together. You, squinting at the screen because your eyes are getting heavy; him, continuing to travel step by step and gain ground on you. Let him come. You’ll be long gone by the time he even makes it to the gates.
It’s been about ten minutes of shared, quiet existence before you hear him bite into something and chew, and your face suddenly lights up.
“Are you eating the purple fruit?” You ask, your slipper falling off with excitement. You don’t know why, but it’s like… you’re stoked for him. Just as proud of him for doing normal things as he does when you step out of your own comfort zone. You like to think you’re both better that way. Balanced.
“Mm,” Din replies with his mouth full, and you grin down at your bare legs peeking through the robe while he swallows.
“Is it not the best thing you’ve ever tasted?” Your voice goes a little breathless with it, and you hear his footsteps stop once more.
“Close,” Din murmurs lowly, sending a small shudder through you. It suddenly feels a bit warm in here, doesn’t it? This morning was one of the rare times you were awake while he was asleep… it’s almost always the other way around, and just from the implication in his tone, you’re reminded of the thing he likes doing most when you’re resting. Maybe he’ll let you do it to him, next time around. The thought gets you hot enough to warrant the other slipper falling to the floor.
“You’re alone, right?” You whisper, knowing he must’ve pulled the helmet up to take a bite of the fruit. He must still be following your path through the hillside, then, not yet reaching the road.
“The kid is awake,” Din tells you, sounding like he’s trying to stop everything before anything starts. His words are short and clear in their meaning, but…
This has a very small chance of success, you already know. “…Do you want to—”
“No,” he responds quickly, already way ahead of you. “We can’t.”
Something in his voice… you don’t know, there’s just something there that makes you feel just a little reckless. Should you push it? You’re by yourself in this suite, what can go wrong?
“You can’t,” you correct him quietly, shifting around on the bed just a bit and biting your lip. It’s a thrill—being able to tease him without having him in front of you, drive him crazy knowing you’re just out of his reach. “But I can do whatever I want, can’t I?”
There’s a pause, a tense and knowing silence suspended between you before he eventually speaks.
“I’d be real careful,” Din mutters low in warning, but what is he gonna do?
“What are you gonna do?” You whisper to him devilishly. Quiet and breathy, beginning to snake your hand down. Stars, your heart is already pounding. You’d only likely mouth off like this in person just to see how hard he’d fuck you, but this feels extra dangerous for some reason. He’s stuck, he can’t do anything about it right now, and you know it’s playing with fire. “You could hang up if you don’t want to hear me. Or you could find me before I’m finished. Come make me stop.”
Din doesn’t say anything but he very much does not hang up, nor does he come busting into your room like you imagine he’d like to. The sheer fact that your door is still closed and locked tells you for sure that he isn’t just hanging out in the hallway, just letting you have your fun.
You start pressing your fingers against your robe at the apex of your thighs, humming at how nice the pressure feels. You don’t even spread your legs or push the fabric away, you just sigh into it and wiggle your hips a bit, pressing hard against your clit and listening to him breathe.
“Do you want to listen?” You ask quietly after a moment, and Din still doesn’t respond. Likely because there’s not a real answer, both yes and no would imply the wrong thing. “I’ll talk.”
Still, nothing from him. Dead silence through the comm. You’re starting to understand. For two days, you’ve felt like he could read your every thought just by the cadence of your voice. He’s staying quiet so you can’t even attempt to do the same to him—if he doesn’t talk, you can’t find a weakness and pounce on it, you can’t feel any more confident or reassured about your own ability to read him.
You’ll just have to push a little harder, then.
“Hm. If only this fancy communicator could…” you pause to look down at your wrist for a second, studying the menu. You don’t think you’ve ever really looked at it, you never had the time.
Din’s growl is sudden and sharp through the earpiece. “No, don’t even think—”
“Ah,” you smile, tapping the face and immediately finding the correct screen. “Take pictures.”
He’s deadly quiet for a moment, and you bite your lip with excitement. When he does speak, his voice is a pure threat, chilling you to the bone as much as it burns deep in your tummy. “…You wouldn’t.”
Ignoring him, you suddenly locate a menu option that sounds phenomenal right now. “Oh shit, does this holocall? Or is it a video option?”
“Holo,” he says very seriously while you study the lack of complexity of the built-in camera in skepticism, “and the kid is awake, so you can’t—”
“Oh, it’s definitely a video,” you unclip it from your wrist and he curses as you sit up, and then you press a button and wait impatiently for him. “Pick up.”
Din takes forever before responding, and you hear the continuous beeps as it attempts to connect, before his quiet baritone rumbles in your ear. “What if I don’t?”
You feel your mouth pull down at the corners, not so much frowning as you are dubious. He’s going to turn down the opportunity to see you and your surroundings when his whole goal is locating you? Really?
“You sure?” You ask softly, raising an eyebrow. “You’d get to see me, where I am. What I’m…” your eyes dip down to the loose robe riding your curves, your skin glowing against the white fabric, “…wearing.”
The beeps continue on for a few more seconds, until they finally stop. You frown down at the black screen of the communicator, not seeing anything at all. Did he decline the transmission request? No… there’s a little red light next to the small lens that wasn’t there before. Why can’t you see him?
“Why can’t I see you?” You ask. You want to look at him looking at you, you don’t want to always be stuck on the other side of a one-way mirror.
“I… have it linked to my helmet, but it only has a front-facing camera,” Din tells you after a moment, and he sounds… slightly out of breath. “Easier to see, the watch is useless now besides the controls.”
Wait, does that mean you’re… being shown on the inner-display of his helmet instead of his wrist? Right in front of his eyes, as if he were actually here with you?
“Nobody can see me but you?” You clarify, and when he doesn’t respond, you bite your lip and lean back into the pillows. You lift the watch up slightly, extending your arm out until you can get the angle as wide as possible. “Can you see… this?” You ask softly, before hooking your fingers in the collar of your white robe and slowly pulling it open for him.
“Where are you?” Din asks instead, and you hear his footsteps through the earpiece, as if he’s walking away from something very quickly.
You don’t answer him, parting the soft fabric until your breasts are completely exposed and you sigh, closing your eyes and snuggling back into the pillows once more. “I’ll tell you where I am if you keep watching me.”
“Why?” Din grits in frustration, coming back around to the same dangerous question he had earlier. “Why would you do that?”
“I don’t know.” You slowly tilt the camera down until you can spread your legs and the robe falls open with the movement, letting him see your pussy peeking through in the flickering light of the muted screen in front of your bed. “Can you see that?”
“Yeah,” he says shakily on the end of a breath, and you feel yourself get wet. Fuck, he sounds so fucking tempted, the sight making his voice come without any of the self-assuredness as it usually has, but… he could also just be saying that. How do you know he’s telling you the truth?
“What am I doing?” You test him, lifting your knee just the slightest bit so you really give him something to look at.
“Spreading your legs for a camera,” Din responds without hesitation, voice scraping against your ear, making you shiver and your nipples harden. Fuck, the way he says it, like it’s wrong and bad even though he’s the only one who can see or hear you do it… it makes you feel even more naughty and emboldened.
You bite your lip and reach your hand down to spread your lips for him, too, hearing his breath immediately catch on the other end. Already your pussy makes your fingers slick against your soft skin, the sash of your robe still holding the fabric together on your body but also loose enough to allow it to part in the right places and reveal everything you want him to see.
“I am in an inn,” you whisper teasingly, letting your finger drop to brush against your clit and then sighing in soft delight. Oh stars, that feels nice, it feels so good to treat yourself after being completely nomadic for two days, getting to be clean and soft and comfortable while you feel this pleasure, and Din’s voice growls through your communicator like you’re doing something painful to him.
“Fuck,” his breathing picks up while you begin circling your clit. “Where?”
“Nariss,” comes your quiet moan, turning your head on the pillow to blink slowly at the camera. Wanting him to see your eyes as well as your finger slowly dip into where you’re the hottest, caressing the sensitive skin there knowing he’s watching.
“Where in Nariss?” Din’s voice is as pleading as it is sharp, desperately trying to keep either you or himself on track.
“I don’t know,” you say again. Truthfully, you don’t—you don’t know the cross streets, you don’t know the part of town, you don’t know much of anything at all besides physical descriptors. You quickly move the camera to the side as far as you can hold it and let him see you from a different angle with the window as a backdrop. “But the window is open. And there are lots of people outside.”
“Can they see you?” Din immediately challenges. Of course they can’t, you’re fifteen stories up and the room is darker than it is outside with all the city lights and swirling colors of the sky, but you suppose he doesn’t know that. You think he just needs to relax—if this is what he’s always like during hunts, you now know exactly why he comes back to you all riled up and tense.
“I don’t know,” you murmur back, starting to rub your clit a little faster, trying to make it feel like him. It doesn’t—your fingers aren’t large or strong enough to give you those perfect circles; you just feel like you’re meandering yourself towards ecstasy instead of picking you up and hauling your ass there like he does, but it’s okay. Hearing Din’s rough breathing come through the earpiece, knowing his hands are probably clenched tight into fists, wondering if he’s hard yet… all of it culminates into a power trip unlike any you’ve experienced recently. It makes you bold, tells you to open your mouth. “Does it matter? I’d still let you fuck me against it if you were here.”
“Stop it,” comes his growl, but what is he gonna do?
Your leg lifts a little wider so you can slowly slide your fingers down and push two of them inside yourself, and Din swears as you moan, “Come find me.”
“Give me your coordinates—”
“Are you giving up?” You offer breathlessly, lifting your eyebrows and your hips up slightly at the question, but you’re… not expecting the extended silence following. You assumed a growled no would immediately come next, or just another empty threat said with enough force to make you tremble with excitement, but not… nothing.
The response makes you pause just for a second, easing your fingers out and dragging them across your thigh to clean some of the wetness off before extending your arm out towards the communicator. Din stays quiet while you navigate through the menu with trembling fingers, eventually finding your coordinates and hovering over the unchecked share location box.
You wait with your lip bit, confident he knows what you’re doing and you don’t have to narrate or repeat yourself. Fuck, you knew you were considering abandoning this entire adventure just to be next to him again, but you had no idea. No fucking idea that it could ever be a thought in his own mind as well. You… assumed he likes this, hunting is what he does for a living and he’s the one who conceived of the idea in the first place. Is he just that aroused by you? Or is there something more?
“No,” Din eventually murmurs, and you immediately navigate out of the menu so you don’t accidentally press anything catastrophic, before pulling your hand away from the communicator with a resolved hum and settling back into the pillows again. Making sure to look directly into the lens even if your eyelids are heavy with heat and desire, you slowly lick your fingers and then reach down once more.
His deep, shaky breath is so telling. Exhausted after all this, but still not hanging up, still doing his hardest to tough it out when he’s only miles away from you and has jets attached to his back. You don’t want to drag it out but you also do, you want to be kind but something about Din makes you also want to be as formidable as possible. You’ll never be able to threaten like he does, you’ll never have anyone cower just because you walked into the room, you’ll never be as powerful or strong as he is, but you can still put up a fucking fight against him in your own way.
You whimper softly, your breathing beginning to find a quicker pace as surely as your fingers do. It begins to spark and build, a red hot flame being kindled by the knowledge that he’s as close as possible without actually being close, right here with you when he always seems so far away.
“Mando,” you whisper, though your expression pulls inwards just slightly because it… in a scenario as sensual and intimate as this, it almost doesn’t sound righ—
“Din,” he whispers back, so quiet you almost don’t hear it, like he almost doesn’t want to but has to anyways, and then you just start to fucking burn.
“D-Din,” you whisper instead, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible through the rising swell. He’ll be able to see it, you think. The way your tummy and chest start to heave, how your body begins to brace for it—and yeah, Maker, he sees it, because his voice suddenly changes.
“Stop,” Din growls roughly, knowing exactly how you cum—knowing exactly what it looks like, the way it sounds in your breathing, what it tastes like, how it feels on the inside. It’s been so long since you’ve touched bliss without him, months and months since you brought yourself to completion on the floor of the Crest by yourself, and though he’s rarely ever denied you, your own high on newfound control causes it to slip. He barks your name and tells you to stop once more, but it’s too late.
“I’m gonna cum, Din,” you breathe out—
“Don’t—”
It tears through you, rapid and surging, and he snarls a curse, something loud snapping and thudding and… did he just punch something? You can’t think, it’s delicious and hard as fuck and everything you needed after two days of near constant movement and thought with little rest, and you bite your lip to keep quiet but a pained whimper still shoves its way out of your tense vocal cords regardless. It sounds like it hurts because it does hurt; the orgasm shatters your body into pieces and you’re left trembling by yourself on this soft bed, wishing he was with you on a metal one.
You sink into the mattress in the moments following, sluggish and exhausted and just conscious enough to keep the watch facing you. You bet the camerawork was terrible, shaky at best, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now. You just lay there and listen to his harsh breathing while you work to slow your heart rate, reveling in the filthy little show you just gave him and wanting to finish it out properly.
“Come find me,” you breathe out once more, lazing soft and naked for him, blinking dazedly at the watch as you pan it over you. Your thighs are still twitching and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging to you, but you drag a finger through your swollen lips and carefully wipe the wetness across one of your nipples. “Clean me up.”
“Fuck,” Din suddenly spits through the earpiece, furious. “You think—y-you think—”
“What?” You hum, basking in the afterglow and so, so curious. Truly, you’re dumb as fuck, you have no clue what you’re thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell you, it’s him.
There’s a moment where his breathing stops. It’s completely silent on the line, before you hear another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.
“You think you can taunt me?” He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet. “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there? You think that’s gonna work?”
Your eyebrow lifts, considering. He… may or may not have predicted your strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising you by now. “Maybe…”
“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”
Ooh. That one sends goosebumps down your arms, but you’ve gained four hours on top of a twelve hour headstart. He can’t scare you with that tone, not when you’re still woozy with pleasure and he isn’t right in front of you. Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, you just blink gently at the communicator, finding strength in being the only one to get him this mad when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word. “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”
“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly. Stars, your heart subtly begins to pick up, your legs continuing to tremble as the small red light next to the lens stares you down. “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid. Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days. I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss. You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”
The chill down your spine doesn’t reach your eyes, you won’t let it. You just feel yourself smile, tilting your head at him and licking your lips while your finger brushes one of your nipples, but Din doesn’t accept your silence the way you’ve always accepted his. He wants an answer from you, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what you originally planned for.
“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey. “How long do you think you can keep running?”
Your eyelashes flutter, suddenly deciding… why not? What have you got to lose? Nothing that you didn’t already go into this situation completely expecting to lose anyways. What’s the worst he can do? Find you?
You close your eyes, pinching one of your nipples and wondering if you might just go for another one since he’s still here. “Ask me again tomorrow.”
But then, instead of immediately responding, you just hear Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace you’ve been able to keep over the past few days. You don’t think it sounds like a run necessarily, but you know that his legs and strides are far longer than yours and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for you. You hear the rhythm of your demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in you both fears it and welcomes it.
“We’ll see,” he tells you, and then the red light vanishes and your earpiece clicks to silence.
***
Day 3—2:23am:
Even though it takes you much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting interaction and not being used to flickering light when you try to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, you’re eventually able to pass out.
But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, you turn over and accidentally knock your communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table. It blinks with four percent battery life.
***
To be continued!!
#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian x reader#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#mando x reader#mando x you#the mandalorian#smut#reader insert#fanfic#rough day#no-droids#tw: stalking
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Falling like the stars✨
Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader
Summary: Luke and Y/N never got to be a thing. Whatever they had ended abruptly when she settled on someone with far more status than the aspiring guitarist. Months later, now single, Luke entangles her in a scheme to make Sunset Curve more popular. The only thing she needs to do is fake date him for 2 weeks.
Songs used: Holy Ground by Taylor Swift, Loved You First by One Direction and Falling Like The Stars by James Arthur.
High school is a world by itself. It has its own system and everyone moves through it. It is something that although it is not discussed, everyone knows. Including the three members of Sunset Curve, who are lying in the yard trying to find a solution to their latest problem.
"We need more people to support our music. If we can't get this little school to support us, how are we going to fill clubs or sign with a label?” Reggie wonders aloud to himself, no matter how hard they try, they can't get the Los Feliz student body to listen to their band.
“We should have thought about it before, Reg. Now we're just the problem kids who most likely won't finish school. Why would they come to see us at those seedy little clubs when they can go show off at football games.” Luke stands up suddenly after Alex words, one of those huge smiles that comes out when he has a really bad idea on his face.
“Well it seems that the solution is easy, boys. We have to make them see us on the same level as those jocks.”
“Oh yeah, and how are we going to do that, genius?” Alex fiddles with his hands as he rests his head on Reggie, both tired of not being able to come even close to fulfilling their dream.
Luke points to the nearest post, on which there are at least 5 posters to support the homecoming king and queen.
“Really? Do you think someone would vote for you? Before all those star athletes who also have a cheerleader to back them up? You basically have just us and I don't think I can do one of those tricks.”
“We’ll think of something. Winning that stupid thing would put us directly in the top of the pyramid. We’ll find a way, we always do.” Before anyone can respond, some screaming and commotion can be heard.
“Savannah is accusing Y/N to mess with her man! Run, they are in the hall!" students mention as they start running to watch the discussion.
“Oh god, Y/N. I’ll better go and see if I can help her somehow.” Alex gets up and Reggie begins to follow him, but not before turning to make sure Luke is following too. The guitarist makes an irritated face but ends up walking behind his friends.
From the moment they enter the main hall they can hear the screeches of probably the most popular girl in school, Savannah Miller. One of those typical unbearable girls who for some reason always reach the top of the elite in schools despite treating everyone badly.
Y/N Y/L is on the other side of the discussion, she looks calm and even bored. The first thing Luke digests from Savannah's words is that she thinks Y/N was making out with her idiot of a boyfriend during third period. What's interesting about the situation is that Diego cheated on Y/N with Savannah maybe a week and a half ago and had been dating her ever since.
But that's not Y/N's style, no matter how angry she is.
Luke knows her well enough, or so he wants to believe. She was always good friends with Alex and Reggie, and her relationship with them remained strong over the years despite how unstable and fleeting her relationship with the guitarist was.
He's never going to admit how deeply he felt for her. How much it screwed him up that just when he finally began to believe they could be something else, she completely walked away from his life so she could date the man that would end up cheating on her just because he looked more promising at the time. Rich, popular, the quarterback of the football team, the ‘perfect guy’ she said to the boys.
But hey, that's past.
Luke looks up to meet Y/N's eyes on him. In the moment she realizes she was caught, she sneakily turns to Alex, who is just inches from the guitarist and smiles at him.
“Are you actually smiling? You think this is funny?” The girl looks furious, but she's smart enough not to make this a battle of strength.
“I already told you, Savannah. It wasn’t me.”
“I can count, Y/N. Neither you nor Diego were in class."
And that’s when it hits him. The possibility of getting to the top of the pyramid in front of him. Because maybe Y/N is not the most popular, but it is undoubtedly one of the most loved by everyone. Intelligent, caring, beautiful, talented. And she certainly has the status after dating Diego Hernandez for one semester. No one had managed more than 3 months with him and the guitarist thinks that was a good sign that that idiot is not a good idea but well, it wasn’t his choice.
Luke begins to walk towards the center of the circle, Alex tries to stop him but cannot catch his arm in time. Both girls turn to see him surprised, but neither says anything.
"You can go find culprits elsewhere, Y/N was busy with me at the time. You can ask whoever you want and they'll tell you that I wasn't in class during third period either."
Of course, he wasn't there because the trio got into Reggie's old truck to get some hotdogs but no one has to know that.
His hand goes to take her firmly by the hip, just like all those nights that now only remain as memories. He is looking at every inch of her face, searching for her reaction, and is surprised by the naturalness with which the girl accepts the gesture. As if his hand belongs there. And maybe, just maybe, it does.
“Do you really want me to believe this?” Savannah asks, clearly annoyed.
“Y/N and Patterson? There’s just no way in hell. C’mon babe, he’s just pathetic, you could do better.” Diego says out loud as he approaches the scene in the middle of Y/N and Savannah.
There's something about the disgruntled way they both said it that makes Luke want to prove that a girl like her could want him. He doesn’t know how to distinguish if it is pride or insecurity but at the moment he is not interested.
He's barely going to open his mouth to defend himself when Y/N starts talking. "No. You can speak as badly as you want of me but you're not going to bring Luke into this."
Luke lets go of her so he can step back a few inches and see her from a better angle. She’s definitely not calm anymore. Her face looks altered and she is undoubtedly in protective mode. She turns to see him when she feels his hand leave her body but he offers her his hand and she intertwines it between her fingers without hesitation. At this rate she is taking control of the situation so he is going to let her continue and try to achieve his goal along the way.
“I know you need a partner to have any hope of winning the crown, but choosing Patterson is a desperate move.”
And that’s his cue. "If my baby wants that crown I will get it for her. It's that easy.”
“What? I do-” At that moment Luke panics and pulls her by the hand that they have intertwined and with the other holds her face while bringing their lips together. When he reacts to what he is doing he is afraid that Y/N will push him in front of everyone but to his surprise she kisses him back instantly, releasing his hand to bring him closer to the neck.
The kiss is passionate and almost desperate, but it only lasts a few seconds since a voice brings them back.
"This feels like deja vu." Reggie whispers to Alex, they both walked during the discussion towards the circle and are so close that Luke and Y/N heard him clearly.
“Well, we already clarified that she was not with your boyfriend so, I’ll take my girl. It was a pleasure, we should repeat this another day... said no one ever." Luke takes her hand and leads her to the nearest empty living room, Reggie and Alex locking the door behind him.
“What the hell was that crown bullshit? Why did you even cover for me? What are you up to? At least tell me is fun... or that includes you shirtless.” She jokes, a cheeky smile spreads in Luke’s face.
“I need a favor and thought you’ll appreciate an alibi.” She raises her eyebrow in reflex.
“Why would I help you, Lucas?” Luke can only think of how she makes a name as simple and boring as Lucas sound so sexy when she says it. Is incredible.
“Cut the act, beautiful. We both know you've never been able to resist me.” Y/N laughs amused at the boy’s sassiness. She won't admit it but she missed his eyes on her. She missed the way he uses that cocky stupid voice that melts her when he wants something. How he gets closer with each sentence, or his lips on her mouth.
Before she can counter attack, Alex stands in front of the guitarist raising his hands. “I know he’s an idiot, but we really need your help, Y/N. If we want Sunset Curve to gain popularity we have to start here, and this is our last year. Gaining popularity among the elite of the school would help us a lot.”
“We are getting desparate.” Reggie adds, a sad smile on his face.
“And pretending I made out with Luke in third period and getting to be homecoming dance queen and king helps you... why?”
“That crown is literally a test of popularity and status. It would put Luke on the same level as the popular kids like Savannah and Diego. People would be more interested in Sunset Curve after that. For now, for them we are only three good for nothing that one day will not appear around here again. You heard yourself that those two didn't think Luke was good enough."
Her face flushes with anger as soon as she remembers the contemptuous tone of voice they used to refer to Luke. If they hadn't been in the middle of the hall, she probably would have said a lot more than she did. That single comment is enough to make her decide, so without thinking Y/N asks “What do you need me to do?”
“Just play perfect couple with Luke until homecoming dance. Then you are queen and king, Sunset Curve gets the fans we deserve, you get to laugh at Savannah’s face and you can separate next day if you want to.”
“I’m not sure If someone is going to believe it.” She blurts out loud as she glances at the guitarist.
“Oh please, you know each others mouth better than your own names.” Reggie says without thinking, Luke snorted with laughter and Y/N blushes like crazy.
“Yeah, and you used to spend a lot of time together too, two weeks shouldn’t be that hard.” Alex tries to recover the seriousness of the situation to close the deal.
“Okay then. If I can help Sunset Curve and get that smirk of superiority off Savannah's face then sounds good to me. Are you willing to date me, Patterson?”
Their eyes meet again and without a sign of hesitation her now officially boyfriend for the next two weeks, answers.
“Beautiful, you have no idea.”
There is something about relationships that never get to happen that make the heart weigh more, that nostalgia to be stronger, the person more difficult to forget. Luke can't help but remember during the last periods of the day just how good it felt to taste the girl's lips again. Feelings of desire, of familiarity, of belonging. All colliding and going deep into his bones.
He decided a long time ago he didn't do relationships, but if he did, it would have been with her. He was willing to break that rule for her, but she had the final decision and it wasn't him. He accidentally put himself in the perfect situation though. All those what if’s will finally have an answer.
For two weeks he can test what it would have been if Y/N Y/L had chosen him. And when he finally tries the experience he will be free. Free from all the what if’s, free from her, from her memory. And there's also the part of how much the band will benefit. The main objective of doing this, obviously.
The last hour is finally over and Luke sped off toward Reggie's truck. In front of it is Alex already waiting and he can see Reggie and Y/N also walking in the same direction. The four of them regroup and Y/N starts to discuss game plan.
“If we are going to do this, we are going to do it well. There will be a party at Finch's house this Saturday and the three of you are coming with me."
The three members of Sunset Curve make an annoyed face at the words of their friend. "That's exactly why no one supports you. You think you are too cool to hang out with the people but then you want everyone to happily buy your shirts and listen to your music."
“She has a point there.” Alex agrees, and puts his arm around her shoulder.
“Okay, let’s do this. If you all come with me, we can leave early and crash one of those places you usually play. Maybe even have some people of the party to come with us and hear you rock the shit out of that place.” All three smile with bright eyes In response.
“You got yourself a deal, pretty lady.” Reggie says in a flirting tone and winks at her. Luke gives him a light punch on the arm.
"I'll see you on Saturday in my house then, at nine. Goodbye boys." She winks at Luke and walks over to her car, making sure to do a perfect walk because she knows pretty well that the guitarist isn't going to stop watching her until she pulls out of the parking lot.
Luke gives her a perfect smile one last time before Y/N leaves school. These two weeks are going to be weird.
The four members of the band are in the truck, Bobby decided to get out of school recently but a party and a gig sounds like a rad Saturday. Luke gets out and walks to the door to wait for Y/N to come out. When she finally comes down he feels like all the air is coming out of his lungs.
She's wearing the black Sunset Curve t-shirt that he forgot one of the many times he climbed up to the second floor of the house to see her. A short black skirt and one of his red flannels that he probably left there several months ago as well. Black fishnets stockings which he can't help but imagine ripping out with his teeth, her lips in that tone of red that drives him crazy, and her classic black boots that he hadn't seen since she started dating the cheating idiot.
“Genius huh? Is there anything that says more ‘Luke Patterson’s property’ than this? I don’t think so." She smiles proudly and blushes when she notices Luke's gaze locked on her legs. Fishnets may have been included in the outfit due to a certain weakness that the musician has towards them.
The hair that the guitarist is used to seeing in a perfect bun lately, is now loose and tousled. As rebellious as the day he met her, moving in harmonious tune to the rhythm of Now or Never.
Luke reaches out to to entwine his hand in her hair and whispers slowly into her ear “You look... fucking hell, you are not playing fair, baby.” Lightly biting her lobe when he’s done speaking.
They both linger in a trance for a few seconds, considering whether they should just walk in and lock the door. But before they can decide, the boys that already know this story pretty well and are sick of waiting for them while they flirt, get out of the truck. Reggie carries Y/N like a sack of potatoes and between Bobby and Alex take Luke by the arms, putting them in the vehicle so they can finally get to the lame party and then, the gig.
When they finally arrive, the eyes of almost all the girls go to the members of the band, who are definitely dressed for the occasion. Y/N can't help but notice how most of the cheerleaders wink at her boyfriend. Yeah, it’s not real and will last two weeks, but for now she justs wants to forget that part and enjoy the feeling of him being hers.
So she makes a small, harmless gesture to mark territory and puts her hand in the guitarist's back pocket.
Luke turns to see her, an amused smirk on his face. “Jealousy looks so hot on you, I wouldn't mind if you marked my lips with that red lipstick too."
That statement resonates in Y/N’s head. All the times Diego refused to kiss her so as not to stain himself and even forbade her to use that lipstick that for her was part of her brand returning to her head. Followed quickly by every night Luke came down after finishing playing and instantly attacked her lips with his, caring for nothing more than the feel of their tongues fighting for control.
“Not jealousy, just a quick reminder to everyone. You are all mine tonight.” She puts a little more pressure on the hand in his pocket and stands on her tiptoes to kiss the corner of his lips.
“Dance with me?” She asks innocently while giving him a flirtatious smile.
“With you, always beautiful.” He smiles back, winking charmingly.
His hands find hers and she begins to dance and jump gracefully to the rhythm of the music as he spins her around, both singing the lyrics to each other with unmatched energy, happy to be together.
“Tonight I'm gonna dance, for all that we've been through.” She sings with a determined voice, taking the musician by the hair and bringing their faces closer.
“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you.” Luke returns the verse with the same passion, just inches separating their lips. His beautiful and trained voice tends to sound like a more country vibe when he gets carried away and especially in more pop melodies like this, and honestly drives her crazy.
The fact that the rocker at heart gave in to listen to other genres for her and even remembered the lyrics was enough to melt her heart. The last time she was able to let herself go and sing at the top of her lungs like this was with him, listening to a mix of their favorite songs in his car while going for their favorite icecream. Whatever they had was a lot more deeper than what they are willing to admit.
“Did we really just see Luke sing and dance to a pop-country song?” Reggie asks the band, Alex and Bobby behind him laughing at the guitarist who blushes and kisses his date's forehead. “I am not going to discuss this. I'll go get us something to drink." He winks at her and dissapears into the crowd.
“I’ll go too, be right back.” Bobby announces leaving Y/N with Alex and Reggie, who smirk at her.
“It seems that pretending is easier than you thought.” Alex can't stop smiling, Reggie playfully itches the girl's ribs who grins from ear to ear.
"Everything always fits when I'm with him. I ruined my chance. I'm totally aware, and I'm not expecting anything from him, because I honestly don't deserve it. But I plan to enjoy every second of these two weeks that came from heaven to the fullest.”
“You should explain hi-” Before Reggie can finish speaking, Diego appears behind Y/N and tries to forcefully pull her by the arm.
The guys manage to react quickly and release her arm while stepping in front of her. But right away his teammates get behind him.
“Save yourselves the pain, she is going with me.” Diego says confidently, his face showing arrogance.
“Guys, ple-” She tries to stop them from getting hurt, but both step a little forward, determined to protect her no matter the cost.
“You are not taking her, Diego. But you are more than welcome to try.” Alex's voice sounds cool and calm, but Y/N can see how much his hands are shaking and her heart hurts at the sight.
They are all so into their own business that nobody notices the guitarist's return until his lips collide with his girl, who is surprised for a few seconds but immediately recognizes him and gives him space for his tongue to taste her mouth.
They both lose themselves in the kiss for a few seconds longer than necessary and then slowly separate. Y/N grinning from ear to ear as she tries to wipe some of her lipstick off Luke's mouth. He just smirks, as happy as ever.
"Sorry guys, do you need something?" He plays the innocent card. After that kiss, most of the people at the party are watching the scene, so Diego, who looks furious, chooses to leave without saying anything. Right away they can hear a long restrained breath from Reggie and Alex.
“You are a cocky genius, I'm not sure we could have won that one.”
“I’m not sure? Did you seriously think we had a chance?” Alex asks, clearly anxious after what had just happened.
Y/N stands in front of them and throws herself into their arms, whispering how many thanks she can say in a row. They return the hug and begin to relax in each others arms. Bobby and Luke join in the hug, and Luke whispers his own thanks to his friends.
The band decides that it’s time to go and to their surprise, when they let people know that they are going to play at a small club in the center of the city, some decide to follow them. On the way, Y/N spends her time wiping her lipstick off Luke’s face with some wipes she had in her bag, struggling not to press her lips against his every time he made her an adorable grimace or a flirtatious smile.
“You know the drill, beautiful.” Luke turns to see her directly in the eyes, concern on his face just like every time before.
“Front row, not a second out of your sight, so if I need something better wait for you guys to finish performing to get it. Better safe than sorry." She recites, proud to remember every word.
“Thank you, baby.” He smiles a little more calmly, gives her a light kiss on the cheek and starts to help take out the instruments.
They are only doing a few songs from their repertoire, but the energy they transmit drives everyone in the little club crazy. The Sunset Curve members look at a Luke they haven't seen in a long time. The energy and passion in his voice dedicated entirely to the little woman in the front row who sings with all her strength every word and melody, imitating Luke's guitar solos or Alex's drums with her arms.
The 15 students who decided to attend are close to Y/N, trying to get her attention from time to time but nothing can take her eyes off her friends. Not even she knew how much she had missed seeing them play. The look of maximum happiness on their faces.
The last song is one that the little club seems quite familiar with, but she had never heard it before. So it must have been written in the last six months.
“Had my chances, could've been where he is standing.
That's what hurts the most, girl, I came so close
But now you'll never know. Baby, I loved you first.”
The lyrics leave her breathless. Luke, who had made contact with her practically all night, now seems to avoid her eyes like a plague. She definitely has to ask Alex about this song before getting any ideas.
The four bow and get off the stage, Luke launches immediately for Y/N, some of the girls try to get his attention and even try to grab him by the arm or waist but he remains firm until his hands meet his girl's hip.
“What do you think?” Luke's fingers shaking in the grip on her waist tell her he's nervous. The fact that her opinion of them matters so much to him that it makes him feel insecure makes her heart skip a beat.
“It was amazing as always, rockstar.” A huge smile appears on the guitarist's face, who gently takes her face with his hands and kisses her nose. After all, he has to remember that they are only pretending to date and for now he has no good reason to push his lips against hers. It doesn't matter how much he needs her.
The way home is uneventful, Y/N sleeping in Luke's arms while Alex puts the guitarist's red flannel over her.
“Will they ever stop pretending they're ridiculously in love with each other?” Bobby asks Reggie as he turns his head to see the couple.
“They are both stubborn and allergic to real feelings. Especially love. They are so terrified that they have to sabotage themselves somehow.” Alex answers for Reggie who just nods without taking his eyes off the road.
"Do you really have to talk like I'm not here?" Luke asks, resting his chin delicately on the head of the woman in his arms.
Tonight felt unreal. Felt practically like one of the many dreams he has had with the girl throughout these months. Seeing her in his clothes was enough to make the night special, but without a doubt dancing in her arms, savoring every inch of her mouth and seeing her energetically sing each of his songs to end the night with her in his arms is just perfect. Reggie parks at Y/N’s after dropping Alex and Bobby, and as Luke decides how to get her to bed without waking her she sinks deeper into his chest.
"Carry me to the door hotstuff, I like to be in your sexy arms." Luke lets out a cheeky laugh in surprise, another laugh coming from Reggie.
“She’s so asleep, I can’t. Adorable though.” Luke agrees and takes her bag before walking down with her in his arms and carrying her effortlessly to the door.
“Thank you for tonight. I didn’t think I could ever feel this happy and complete again.” She murmurs in his ear before giving him a sweet peck in the lips and enter the house.
What the two of them took from tonight is that indisputably, they are both still head over heels for each other. But it was like that the first time and it just wasn't enough.
Days go by with the couple being the school's favorite gossip. People talking in the hallways about the special way Luke looks at his girlfriend, comparisons about the dry way Y/N used to be with Diego compared to how she is with the guitarist, always touching him somehow and spending all the time with him as possible, visibly much happier. Some also talking about how good the band sounds and wondering why they hadn't heard it before. Everything going according to plan.
On Thursday afternoon, Luke arranged to pick her up for the two of them to find him something formal enough for the dance. When Y/N opened the door she met his beautiful greenish hazel eyes, and swears that for a second she forgot how to breathe.
She knows this scene. He smiles sweetly at her, takes her hand and opens the door of the car for her. Multiple interesting memories inside this car coming back to her mind. His firm hands on her legs, his tongue testing her mouth, his hot moans after biting his lower lip...
“Beautiful? Whatcha thinking?” Luke's voice brings her back to the present, his hand goes directly to her thigh as all that many midnight drives and without saying anything he plays the girl's favorite album.
That’s it. If she wants a chance with him, she needs to make this right. “I- We really need to talk.” Hearing the tone of her voice, Luke senses what is coming. He was here before. So he turns off the car that hadn't even started to move yet and turns to look at her.
"I know we've been putting it off, but we have to talk about how it all ended, I-"
Luke interrupts her before she can finish, his voice sounds broken, sad, angry. "I really don't want to talk about how you preferred an idiot for whom you don't feel the remotest thing just because he'll get a football scholarship and this perfect future.”
She spends a few seconds processing his words. Did he really say what she thinks he said? "It wasn't like that, Luke."
"I know it looks like I can't compete with him, but I would have done anything for you. And I thought you knew that.”
She doesn't know what to do or say. She was so unconscious, so selfish, so heartless, that she didn't even think about how he could have understood the situation. In how much he must have suffered these months watching her with Diego, believing he wasn’t good enough. Believing that she chose someone who wasn’t him, because he wasn’t good enough.
He stays quiet, examining the girl who seems about to cling to tears. The anger evaporates instantly and he leans into her seat to wrap his arms tightly around her. She starts sobbing, but seems determined to talk.
“R- Remember the night we met? It was the first Sunset Curve presentation. I had just entered the little club, but your voice dragged me to the front row like a magnet. And when I was finally in front of the stage, I knew it. It was you. The butterflies that everyone talks about for the first time in my stomach. I knew I could never feel again something even close to what I was feeling at that moment.
I got carried away in your voice, dancing to the rhythm of the melody and recording every sound in my head. And when I opened my eyes again, yours were staring at me. And I understood that you felt it too. It was me, and you knew it. It was so natural, powerful, magnetic, deep. I loved you since the first day, Luke. How is that not going to scare me?
When the feelings started to get so strong they burned, I knew I had to run. You always made it very clear that relationships were not your thing, I could not continue to wait for something that from the beginning you made it clear you could not give.
Then Diego arrived at the right time to give me an exit, and I took it. I knew he just wanted to have me around to raise his good boy status, and feeling nothing was safer than feeling too much. So I lied. I lied to you, to me, to everyone. And I’m sorry, but I was so scared. I was a coward who should have done things differently.”
When she finally finishes pulling out what she's been saving for months, she pulls away from Luke to see his face. His eyes look crystal clear, his cheeks red. But his beautiful white smile lights up his face.
"Next time you love me so much that you can't bear it, let me know, please? I can step on your foot or sneeze in your face. I was literally going to ask you to be my girlfriend that weekend. I even wrote you a song."
“You were? The one you sang the other night?”
“Okay, I wrote you a lot of songs. Maybe too many. But the one I'm talking about is different. Maybe I'll let you listen to it one day. If you stick around long enough this time.”
She smirks and kiss him lightly on the lips, enjoying the feeling of being able to. He knows he reacted way too chill. But he also understands her feelings. What is the point of reproaching her for something they can no longer change? A bad decision made by a love so immense that it left her blind. He is simply not willing to waste any more time. They are finally going to do things right. Neither of them is going to self-sabotage it this time, and since he doesn't trust it, he'll put Alex and Reggie in charge to make sure.
The night of the dance arrives. Y/N is wearing a beautiful black dress and her classic red lips. Luke tried his best to look fancy and he's wearing a pretty cool suit but in a sleeveless version. His still fake girlfriend couldn't stop smiling when she saw him. Just perfect.
Dancing in his arms, letting him go only once in a while to dance with the other three members of Sunset Curve made the night amazing. The rest of these two weeks they spent it talking, laughing... making out. Enjoying the most of the time they lost. Even completely forgetting why they were faking it in the first place, until they ask the candidates to take the stage.
"And your king are queen are... Y/N Y/L and Diego Hernandez!"
They all turn to see Luke in shock. Just hearing their names together is enough to make him frustrated, but there's not much he can do right now. And that's when he remembers what he asked the boys to play for the king and queen's first dance. Great, now dance they’ll dance to his song together. Just his damn luck. He sabotaged himself again without imagining it.
They are crowned and Diego offers her his hand, not without first throwing a face of superiority to the guitarist. She walks but continues straight until she is in front of her lover.
Luke looks at her strangely, she smiles at him.
“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you. Remember?” She sings happily in his ear, and offers her hand.
“Dance with me?” He looks at her adoringly and takes her hand.
“Always, beautiful.”
They walk to the center of the floor, Alex begins to sing the first verse. Y/N rests her head on Luke's chest, her hands around his neck, as he presses her against him by the hip, wrapping her in his arms. His head bent to sing the song in her ear.
“I swear to God, I can see... you're still the girl in the club.”
Tears of happiness begin to flow from Y/N, the words that she never had the opportunity to know, finally getting revealed. Luke's sweet, soft voice in her ear. The perfect melody and the beautiful voice of Reggie and Alex in the background.
“And I need you to know that we're fallin' so fast
We're fallin' like the stars, fallin' in love.”
The moment he sings in love, Y/N lifts her head to meet his eyes. He lifts his hands to her cheeks to wipe her tears, gently holding her face to make sure she sees him recite every word.
“And I'm not scared to say those words. With you, I'm safe.
We're fallin' like the stars, we're fallin' in love.”
The second Luke finishes singing, Y/N stands on tiptoe and pushes her lips against his. Tears of happiness continue to fall from her face, wrapped in a passionate, slow, deep kiss. He's all she wants. Her heart chose him since the very first day.
“I can’t believe one of Luke’s random ideas it's what made them find their way back to each other. Reg, we tried for 6 months and we were never even close. Two weeks ‘pretending’ and bam! they are just fine.”
Both watch the happy couple dance now that they are official.
"You know what they say, Fake it till you make it.” Reggie smirks while watching Luke happily kiss Y/N.
“Fair. At least everything was fixed before we shoved Luke into the pool to see if Y/N would rescue him with a mouth-to-mouth kiss."
“We still could try, you know... for science.”
“Cool. Monday works for me. Do you think that even though he didn't win, we still have a chance to win some more fans?”
Reggie raises his head before answering, a smile appears when he sees the bunch of girls and boys who are spying on them just a few meters away. Probably waiting for them to finish talking to get closer.
“I think Sunset Curve will be just fine too, Alex.”
Thank you for reading✨
Taglist: @writerinlearning , @ghostofmgg, @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1
#luke patterson imagine#luke patterson imagines#luke patterson fic#luke patterson oneshot#luke patterson fanfiction#luke patterson x y/n#luke patterson x reader#luke patterson#luke jatp#jatp imagine#jatp one shot#charlie gillespie fic#charlie gillespie imagine#charlie gillespie imagines#charlie gillespie x reader
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Can’t Help Falling in Love
Loki x Reader (f)
Valentine’s Day with the God of Mischief
Based on suggestion by: @squadleaderchase
A/N: Thank you so much for the suggestion! I loved writing this, it was so much fun!
Happy Valentine’s Day y’all!
There is also a gender neutral version of this fic, and will be posted shortly after this one! Read it here!
I recommend to putting on Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis towards the end just for that finishing touch!
Summary: When Loki learns about the traditions of Valentine’s Day, he asks you to be his Valentine- and reluctantly takes advice from Steve Rogers.
Word Count: 2.9k
Warnings: none; just fluff
“Can’t Midgardians have a holiday that doesn’t involve such a grotesque display of… red?” Loki asks walking into the living room of the Avengers compound. Loki arrived at the compound a few weeks before Christmas and so far, he’s experienced two Earth holidays: Christmas and New Year’s. Of course, Tony had picked the theme for both parties to be elaborately red and gold- he claimed the fact that it matched his suit was merely a coincidence.
“Just wait until next month,” you reply casually, your eyes not leaving the brief you were reading while you sat cozied up in one of the large armchairs. “I think you’ll like St. Patrick’s Day much more… color scheme wise at least.”
Loki looked up curiously at the hearts of all shades of red and pink Natasha had hung up to decorate the Avengers’ living quarters. She had gone to visit Clint’s family and his kids spent hours making Valentines and decorations out of construction paper and glitter. Loki looked almost puzzled at the lopsided hearts that hung from the ceiling on transparent line so they looked like they floated mid-air.
“Perhaps I might,” he mumbled to himself, the lovesick aura of his surroundings making him slightly disgusted. “Though I suppose I find your rituals as bizarre as you’d find on Asgard.”
“Mhmm,” you mumbled in response to his thinking out loud. It was rare that the compound would be this quiet. It was a Friday evening and in the middle of a team meeting earlier today, Tony declared exhaustedly that everyone needs to start the weekend early and dismissed everyone despite Steve’s protests. You weren’t sure where everyone else went and you didn’t particularly care- enjoying the rare peace and quiet.
You didn’t mind Loki’s company. He was a little aloof but overall, you found him more to be misunderstood than anything else. He wasn’t like Thor and sure, he had a very trouble ridden past to downplay it- but he’s confided in you all it wasn’t entirely his doing. Out of everyone living at the compound, he probably had grown the closest to you, or as close as Loki would allow himself to be to someone.
“What even is this holiday?” Loki asked, pulling his attention from the decorations to where you sat, binder in your lap. You looked up and closed the brief, tossing it onto the coffee table in front of where you sat.
“Sunday is Valentine’s Day,” you say looking back over to him, meeting his eyes. “I mean overtime the traditions and how we celebrate have changed but it’s originally the day meant to honor St. Valentine and commemorate his death. There’s a lot more to it than that and there’s all different of different origins, but now it’s more like a day where you celebrate love, because he was the patron Saint of Love.”
Loki nods, liking the idea of this holiday much more than New Years already. He didn’t mind Christmas, but the elaborate parties made everything not very appealing to him. You can’t blame the god for not having a good time at parties where every guest fears him or hates him. He walks over and takes a seat on the couch and crosses his legs. He was intrigued enough to continue the conversation and ask you more questions. “What are the traditions?” He asks curiously.
“Traditionally, you would ask someone to be your Valentine, and that’s the person you want to spend the day with,” you answer with a small shrug, trying to explain a holiday you’ve never had to explain before. “Some people have it easy and they ask their significant other, and if you don’t have one, you ask someone you’re romantically interested in to be your Valentine. Then you give each other gifts, like chocolates or flowers, anything really that’s romantic and you go out on a date, like a nice dinner but it doesn’t have to be. That’s the basic gist.”
“Thank you, (y/n),” Loki said, mulling over your explanation. “You’ve been helpful, as always. Tell me, who’s your Valentine?”
“I don’t have one,” you answered honestly. The only time you really celebrated was when you had been with someone. You’d never really participated otherwise. You planned to just spend the night alone or with Nat if she also didn’t have plans and probably watch a movie- most definitely Pride and Prejudice.
“Shame,” Loki said with a tsk. “Perhaps, if you would be interested, you could be my Valentine?”
“Really?” you ask, honestly surprised.
“I actually like the idea of the day,” Loki shrugged. “And I don’t know many people, people seem to hate me on this planet- no idea as to why. You’ve always been kind to me, and you are the most tolerable person I’ve encountered on this planet.”
“That’s oddly very kind of you,” you say with a chuckle. “I appreciate the sentiments. Um, yes. I’d be happy to be your Valentine.”
“Excellent,” he grinned. He clapped his hands together and stood up. “Splendid. I’ll ask Thor to help me plan something.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” you smile, picking up your paperwork again as Loki heads off to find his brother.
***
“Brother,” Thor’s voice echoed in the training room. “Spar with me?”
“As much as I would love to,” Loki said sarcastically, “I need your help with something I need to plan.” Loki walked over to the side of the mat where Thor had been training with Captain Rogers.
“Plan what?” Captain Rogers asked curiously. It was an innocent enough question but Loki took it as Rogers insinuating his distrust in him. Of course, Loki can’t blame the man but it did rub him the wrong way.
“If you must know Captain Rogers, I’m making plans for this upcoming Valentine’s Day,” Loki said matter-of-factly. “I’m sure since you have quite the active love life recently, your words of wisdom are probably of infinite value.”
“You can learn a thing or two from me,” Steve retorted as he put the punching bag beck into place. “But I don’t like your attitude.”
“I don’t know how I’ll ever manage without you,” Loki scoffed. He turned his attention back to his brother. “I need help to determine where I should take (y/n) and what I should get her.”
“(y/n) agreed to this?” Thor asks, his eyebrows raised in confusion. Rogers kept his mouth shut, deciding to see where this conversation will go before
“Yes, brother. I asked her to be my Valentine as stated by tradition and she said yes.”
“Ah! Good for you, brother!” Thor exclaimed, happily. “I’m glad you’re immersing yourself in the Midgard culture.”
“Yes, yes,” Loki waved him off, “Now, please, tell me what I should do.”
“I’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day,” Thor says with a shrug and a sympathetic look. “I haven’t had much opportunity to explore the culture. Every time I’m on this planet I’m a little busy preventing its destruction. Perhaps Rogers can help you?”
Loki let out an exasperated sigh. He avoided Rogers as he knew the man had such a smug look on his face. Loki refused to give him the satisfaction. However, he realized that wouldn’t be fair to you. Rogers not only knew what to do, but he was also close friends with you. He quickly realized if he wanted to celebrate with you properly, he’d need to rely on the infamous super soldier.
“Captain Rogers,” Loki said with a charismatic smile, turning back to the man. “I wholeheartedly apologize for my lack of… social niceties. If you’d be willing to help me, to ensure your dear friend enjoys her holiday, I would be sincerely grateful.”
“Only because of (y/n),” Rogers says skeptically, waving a finger at Loki. “She deserves to enjoy her time and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you screw up her evening.”
“What a loyal friend.”
Years later, the Avengers would still talk about the fact Loki cared about you so much, he sought out advice from Captain America and Thor. And as Captain America said, he helped Loki with every last detail and Steve never let Loki forget it.
***
Loki had told you that he’d come to your room to get you at 6 o’clock Sunday evening. He wore clothes he had picked out, black dress pants, a white button-down shirt and shiny, black dress shoes. He had kept the last button of the shirt unbuttoned and he had rolled the sleeves up, a styling tip he had gotten from Thor. He had his long hair gelled back and tamed, ignoring Captain Roger’s horrible suggestion for a haircut. He felt very weird not wearing any green, but he took the advice he was given on his ensemble.
You were just putting on your heels when he knocked at your door Sunday promptly at 6pm. Of course, Loki would be very punctual. You gave yourself one more quick once more in the mirror in your room before heading to answer the door.
You had on a pair of dark green heels that perfectly matched your dress. You also layered over the outfit a suede brown jacket, that complimented the jewel tone of the dress and shoes nicely. You kept your appearance simple, sticking to how you usually styled your hair. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you quickly opened the door, your jacket and bag both in hand.
“Wow,” you say with a grin, when you take in Loki’s appearance. “You look very nice.”
“You look stunning,” Loki said, his eyes widening, taking in your appearance. The compliment made you have butterflies.
“Thank you,” you said with false confidence. Underneath, you were a nervous wreck as you took the arm that he extended to you.
“So,” Loki began to walk down the hallway with you. “Apparently, this planet has something called reservations, and anyone who tries to get one a few days before Valentine’s Day is a “moron,” according to a very rude young man I had the pleasure of speaking with- the first time using a phone too on top of that. So, I hope you don’t mind if the evening is a little… makeshift.”
“I’m sure it’ll be great,” you reassure him. You feel him relax slightly. You found how hard he was trying so endearing.
Where else did he bring you but just down the hall to the living room. At night with the lights dimmed, combined with Natasha’s homemade decorations, it actually looked quite beautiful. He had decorated with an eclectic array of candles as well that covered most surfaces of the room. It also looked like he had swiped every throw pillow in the whole compound and had them arranged the coffee table in the center of the room.
“Did you do all of this?” You ask in awe.
“Yes,” he replied, just watching you. “Do you like it?”
“It’s perfect.”
“I had to make my own version of advice I received,” he disclosed to you. You sat opposite each other on either side of the coffee table, you kicked off your heels and he did the same with his shoes. “Captain Rogers said- and I’m trying my best to quote verbatim, ‘You need to show a girl a good time. You gotta take her to dinner and dancing.’” He even mimicked Steve’s voice perfectly. It made you laugh.
“I can’t believe you subjected yourself to Steve for me, I’m touched,” you smiled. “I mean I love Steve,” you continue, “But I can’t imagine you too being best friends anytime soon.”
“No, I suppose we probably won’t be,” Loki chuckles.
“I hate to point it out,” you continue, “but I think you missed both the dinner part and the dancing part of that plan.” Loki smirked and when you blinked, he transformed the whole room.
“Did I?” he asks, with an eyebrow raised. You gasp, looking around the room you were now in. You knew it was an illusion, but it felt very real. The atmosphere, the breeze coming in from the large bay windows that weren’t there before. The coffee table now a table now one of many dining tables in an incredibly high-end restaurant. The table had food, and a bottle of wine. You were stunned. There was a live band and other couples in other tables and out on the dancefloor.
“Loki?” You exclaimed, looking around at your new surroundings. It was amazing. You couldn’t believe the magic right before your eyes. Of course, you knew it was just one of his tricks, but it felt so incredibly real. You picked up your fork and took a bite of the food in front of you. It was incredible, you questioned if you were even eating.
“It’s real,” Loki said, like he could read your mind. Honestly, he had only just anticipated your next question. “I made it. Well, I made it with Friday’s supervision.”
“It’s fantastic! I can’t believe you went through all this trouble just for me.”
“Sweetheart, you are very much worth it- worth much more than this,” he responded casually, throwing in the term of endearment to see how you’d react. He caught the way it made you smile.
You continued to talk for a little while, and shared stories. You were worried that compared to his life on Asgard, he’d find your stories incredibly boring and mundane. It seemed to be the opposite. His attention was only on you and he held on to every word you said. He created this elaborate setting just to keep you the center of his attention.
“Should we dance?” He asks suddenly, a glimmer in his eye. You looked down apprehensively.
“I’m not really a dancer,” you tried to insist.
“Do you actually not want to dance, darling? Because if so, I will not bring it up again,” he says earnestly, “But, if you’re saying no because you’re afraid I’m going to judge you, I honestly can promise you I would never dream of doing so.”
You give it another moment to ponder over his words. You were taken aback at how well he seemed to know how you were thinking. You let out a sigh of defeat, and smile. “I’d love to,” you reply.
He stands up and offers you his hand. His smile is enough to make you weak at the knees. You take his hand and he leads you over to the dancefloor as the band starts playing its next song. “Does that singer sound like Elvis?” You ask, the small glitch in the illusion throwing you off for only a moment.
“I don’t know who that is,” Loki says with a laugh. He pulls you in close and rests one hand on the small of your back and the other grasps your hand close. You wrap your other arm around his shoulder. You are both pressed up incredibly close to one another. You rest your head on his chest comfortably, and you can’t see how much the action makes his whole face go red. Guiding your movements together, it mostly just swaying in place. The steps were small, and with the music playing for the two of you.
“This place is incredible,” you sigh happily looking up at him. “But I think I liked the first place a little better.”
He nodded in agreement and you got to watch a green hue encompass the walls of the restaurant as they almost melted away, and everything around the two of you just fade away. The sconces on the walls, revealed themselves to be the candles that cluttered the living room and the couples evaporated with the green mist. The table you had both sat at, turned back to the coffee table but the empty plates remained. The elaborate statues that surrounded the room turned into the furniture you knew well, and then the live band faded away to reveal Steve’s record player indeed playing a 45 of Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley.
When the room finished revealing its true appearance to you, you laid your head back on Loki’s chest and mumbled that now it was perfect. He smiled to himself, thinking about how without a doubt in his mind, Valentine’s Day is his absolute favorite holiday on Midgard. He now couldn’t believe this reality was real. If he wasn’t holding you, he’d pinch himself. You were here, with him, in his arms, dancing in the middle of the living room on this godforsaken planet.
“(y/n)?” he whispered softly as the song was coming to an end.
“Mhmm?” You responded, your eyes closed, really just basking in the feeling of being so close to him and the smell of his cologne.
“Will be mine?” He asks carefully, remembering the phrase from Captain Roger’s advice. That phrase apparently being very important if today went well and he wanted to ask you to “go steady.” You chuckled softly, hearing Steve’s influence in the phrase.
“I would love to,” you say with a shy smile looking back up to him. He beams, incredibly happy you said yes. Swept up in his emotions, he swiftly leans down and presses his lips to yours capturing them in a passionate first kiss.
“Oh gross!” You hear someone exclaim, making you both pull away. It’s Tony- who was currently holding his side in pain as Pepper elbowed him in the side.
“You really had to do that?” she chastised him, rolling her eyes and giving an apologetic look to you and Loki before pushing Tony down the hallway to give you both your moment back, as sullied as it had become thanks to Tony.
“I’m so sorry,” she said embarrassed by his outburst, ushering him out as quickly as possible.
Loki turns his head back to you, immediately after they are out of view. “Where were we, darling?” He smirks, pulling you in for another kiss.
#loki laufeyson#loki x reader#loki x you#loki x y/n#valentines day imagine#marvel imagine#mcu loki#loki imagine#loki fluff#fluff imagine#tom hiddleston x reader#tom hiddelston imagine#tom hiddleston x y/n
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summer rain: chapter 2
Your days in the Training Corp aren’t too out of the ordinary. You make friends, you train hard, and you eat dinner every day.
Oh, and you’re also hellbent on getting revenge against Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.
Chapter 1, Chapter 3
Okay, okay, so, you’d prided yourself on your plan. Getting the lieutenant himself to train you personally so you could learn his weaknesses and use his own tricks to one day take him down and humiliate him in front of everyone - it’s convoluted, but it’s a good idea. It’ll take a while, but it’ll work if you stay dedicated. Right? Right.
But you hadn’t actually expected him to agree. And so easily at that. He’d given you a quick look over as though he was scanning for some potential scheme, and then he’d readily said he would train you, which not only shocked you, it shocked both Captain Erwin and the woman who you learned was Lieutenant Hange Zoe. If his friends were surprised, then this must be out of character of him. You can’t imagine why he possibly would willingly take you under his wing.
Maybe...maybe the harsh treatment was some twisted way of looking out for you. A small bit of guilt blooms in your chest at the thought, but you quickly squash it down. There are other ways to prepare someone for their future than by publicly embarrassing and physically harassing them. A simple hey, focus up, cadet would have sufficed. Not that you’d have listened, but he doesn’t know that.
Yeah, he’s just a dick. He probably has his own messed up reasons to be doing this. You have to mentally prepare yourself for whatever cruel and unusual punishment he’ll be inflicting upon you.
His instructions ring through your head as you go to bed that night.
“Be at the grounds at 4 AM, sharp. Don’t be late.”
However, that’s absolutely ridiculous. It’s bad enough that you have to adjust your sleep schedule to wake up at 8 AM instead of 11 AM since they don’t allow for beauty sleep at the Training Corp (how are you supposed to maintain your flawless skin?), but now he expects you to be up and out of bed four whole hours than everyone else? No one is expected to be up at that time. Not even him. People are sleeping at 4 AM. No, you’re absolutely not going to be getting up just to train with a grouchy, perverted midget, thanks very much. If he was serious when he gave you those instructions, he’s going to have to deal with someone who values their shut-eye time. Sorry not sorry, Lieutenant. Your dreams are pleasant that night, letting you visit the market on the edge of Stohess which always smelled of fresh fruits and exotic perfume.
You’re content with your decision until a fucking wave crashes on you and brutally brings you back to the world of the living.
With a heaving gasp, you sit up straight in a coughing frenzy, spitting up water. Your hair is soaked, along with your nightgown. Fat droplets run down your face and bite into your cheeks. It’s cold.
“Be quiet,” Lieutenant Levi mutters casually, as though he didn’t just dump a bucket of water on you, “you’ll wake up the others.”
You gape at him incredulously, bringing your hands up to frantically wipe water off your face. For a second, you forget all formalities and you forget he ranks far higher than you, or perhaps you just don’t care, and you splutter out what you’ve been wondering since the moment you met him.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
For someone who seems to enjoy teaching you discipline, he never actually tells you off for these comments. Instead of chiding you for being rude, he says in a snippy tone, “I’ve been waiting for ten minutes. Get up, or I’ll refill the bucket.”
You don’t need any further encouragement. You throw off the thin and wet blanket and stand up, now fully awake. He rolls his eyes when he sees how silky your nightgown is - yeah, he damn well should feel bad for soaking such an expensive piece of fabric, the asshole. It’s worth more than that stupid tacky cravat he’s always sporting, that’s for sure.
Fortunately, no one else has woken up. Thank Maria, you’re not sure you could stomach someone seeing Lieutenant Levi demeaning you yet again. You shakily grab your clothes and uniform, and then turn to him. He raises a brow.
“Some privacy would be appreciated, sir.” You cross your arms over your chest protectively.
He scoffs pointedly, as though to tell you he’d have to be absolutely obtuse to want to see you naked, to which you only take a little offense. He gives you orders to hurry the fuck up and then leaves the barracks. You’re tempted to take your sweet time changing, but you really, really don’t want to risk getting soaked again. You just wish that you had time to dry your hair - the morning air outside is bound to be freezing. Sighing, you tie it up tightly, mourning the days you could let your precious tresses fly freely. Stupid military, stupid titans, stupid lieutenant. You dislike all of them greatly. In that order.
When you join him outside, he’s leaning against a tree, looking at you dully.
“Managed to have a tea party before you got down here, (L/N)? Or have you always walked at the speed of a snail?”
Holy hells help you, this is going to be a long day.
You salute, and he lets out a small tch, walking up to you and sizing you up. You tense up immediately, you wouldn’t put it past him to knock you down again for the heinous crime of making him wait.
“This is how this is going to work, Cadet.” He stands right in front of you and you force yourself not to look in his eyes, choosing to look at the pretty leaves on the birch tree behind him. “Every morning, from 4 AM to 6 AM, you’re here, and you’re doing whatever the hell I tell you to.” Probably allowing him to punch you in the face repeatedly. “Then you go back, get two more hours of sleep so that you don’t look like shit at breakfast.” It’ll take more than the likes of him to get you to look like shit, but sure, he can flatter himself. “If I’m on an expedition or not here for some other reason, you do a basic routine regardless.” Right, like he’ll know if you skip out. Nice try. “I might have you do other bits of training at another part of the day sometimes, but for the most part, we’ll be doing the brunt of it in the morning so it doesn’t interfere with your classes and shit.” Okay, that’s fair, and you can’t find a complaint with it no matter how hard you try. “Questions?”
You open your mouth, but he doesn’t give you a chance to actually ask anything before barking out an order. “Twenty-four laps around the grounds, now.”
Twenty-four? Okay, okay, you can do this, you knew what you were signing up for. He’s going to be harsh. He’s going to wear you out. You’re not going to break. Even if it’s the crack of dawn and he’s certifiably insane.
When you start running, his eyes follow you. You briefly wonder how he’s going to keep himself entertained throughout this, but then you remember that he’s cruel and terrible, and he’ll be entertained plenty watching you suffer. Besides, you have other things to focus on besides how much fun he’s having.
The maximum amount of laps Grumman has had you run so far is twelve, and that was with everyone else, so all the cadets could feed off each other’s energy and boost morale. Right now, there’s no one with you, no one to complain to, no one to hide behind so you can spend a few seconds walking instead of running. Oh, and it’s way too early. Have you mentioned that it’s way too early?
Half way through the fifteenth lap, you drop down on your knees and start panting. You’re tired. You want to go back to sleep. Screw your plan. Screw getting revenge.
“Oi!” The lieutenant calls out from his cozy spot under the birch tree. “I didn’t say you could take a nap!”
Most all all, screw him.
You hear him approaching, but you can’t bring yourself to get up. The grass is damp against your fingers, looking like a nice and cool spot to just lie down and rest your head for a few seconds. Sure, not as nice as a regular feathery pillow, but -
He kicks you on the side. It’s not that hard, but you still hiss in pain.
You hate him, you hate him, you hate him -
“Get up,” he snaps, impatient. “You’ve got nine more to go.”
Everything about him is grating, from his voice to his polished shoes to his gorgeous grey eyes. How you wish you could shut him up.
Clearly not someone who enjoys waiting, he yanks you up by your arm, letting out another tch at your murderous expression. He applies just the slightest pressure against your skin, before speaking in a tone that makes it clear he’s getting fed up.
“You’re the one who wanted to be trained. If you can’t handle a few laps, then forget about getting into the top ten.”
“I don���t want to get into the top ten,” you huff, writhing in an attempt to break free of his grasp to no avail. Why does everyone and their mother assume you’re some tryhard goody two shoes? “And even if I did, running these laps isn’t gonna get me there. So can we just leave it at fifteen?”
Lieutenant Levi pulls you in closer, until you’re nearly nose to nose with him. Your eyes widen as he tightens his hold on you, and you despise that your heart beats faster for whatever godforsaken reason. Unwillingly, you think about what it would actually feel like to be wrapped up in his arms, to have his hands on your waist, to have his lips on your -
Fuck fuck fuck. Wrong and fucked up line of thought. Focus.
“You seem to think we’re collaborating here, (L/N). Let me make it clear,” he drawls lazily, “we’re not. You’ll do what I say, no questions asked.”
“I’m going to ask questions, sir. Blind obedience isn’t good for anyone.”
“I think it’s less to do with blind obedience, and more with you wanting to be a pain in the ass.”
“Very astute of you,” you say without thinking, and his shoulders move in what might have been a laugh, but it happens so quickly you’re not sure if you imagined it or not.
“Finish the laps,” he orders, letting go of you and jerking his head, telling you to hop to it.
You glare petulantly, but start running anyways. What he doesn’t realize is he just let you have a break, no matter how short it might have been, and that’s exactly what you needed. Not so clever, this one. You take the small win and feel triumphant, even though you still have to run nine more laps and your hair is still wet and it’s still a forbidden hour for anyone to be awake at.
Once the laps are done, Lieutenant Levi allows no further time for relaxation before ordering you into thirty push-ups, which is just thirty more than your preferred amount of push-ups. The amount of fucking delight he takes in putting his foot on your back, making it just a bit harder for you to get up each time, is unbelievable. He’s a damn sadist, who thrills in your pain.
After the push-ups are finished, you have to do squats. Once the squats are finished, you move on to crunches. Then around five million side kicks, or at least that’s what it feels like. Then forward lunges. Then tricep extensions against the tree. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
How fucking long is an hour anyway?
By the time the lieutenant finally tosses you a flask of water - he throws it so quickly it almost hits your face - you’re winded, out of breath, and dizzy. Nothing hurts per se, but your body is desperately begging for you to stop, to take a break, to just sit down for a single second. You know that any second now, you’ll be back in bed, and the only obstacle to that destination besides the fear that you might collapse halfway there is this asshole of a midget in front of you. You technically can’t leave until he dismisses you, a rule that you despise with all your being.
You think that dismissal is coming when he takes the flask back and then gives you another demand.
“Ten calf raises. Just a test run. I’ll see if I can put it into your routine.”
You look at him disbelievingly for two reasons - one, because he’s actually continuing this torture and two, he’s assuming you know what the hell calf raises are.
He sighs exasperatedly and then demonstrates. It seems simple enough, it’s just standing on your tippy toes, spreading your feet out, repeating the action, spreading them out even more, and then doing it again. Three angles, just a bit of balance for a few seconds.
At this point, you’ll do whatever it takes to go back to bed.
So you start. You do three (there’s three angles, so technically nine, but who’s counting? certainly not you) and everything’s fine.
The fourth set leaves you a bit sore, but whatever.
The fifth set hurts.
The sixth set stings like a bitch.
After the seventh, you cry out in pain. It’s quiet, but mortifying.
Great, just great. The whole point of this was to pick up on his weaknesses, and here you’ve accidentally exposed your own. You freeze completely, eyes on the ground, waiting for the lieutenant to say something about how weak you’re acting.
But he doesn’t say anything, and you’re too nervous to look at him in case he catches the embarrassment playing out on your face.
Eight. Your calves are killing you, but you’re not going to cry out again. Ever.
Nine. Holy shit. Are you on fire? You think you’re on fire.
One more. You can do this. You’ve done all the others.
“Hey,” a sharp voice cuts through the air, but you pay him no mind.
You clench your fists, muster up all your strength, and push yourself up as hard as you can.
And immediately regret it.
Your legs buckle under you, and you stumble with a yelp. You didn’t mean to. It just hurt so bad, but now you’re going to be on your knees again -
Up until now, you’d seen how fast Lieutenant Levi could move because he was constantly throwing you around like a child would throw around its favorite toy. When you feel a breeze against your skin, your mind is thrown into an alarmed state for a fraction of a second. He’s coming at you, to what? Push you? You’re already falling down, so nice try, jerk, but -
It takes you a few seconds to realize he’s caught you.
With his arms hooked under yours, he lets you put your weight on him, ignoring your astonished expression. Even the blunt pain is pushed aside as you take in the fact that he stopped you from falling. Apparently you can only be knocked down when he decides you can. For the life of you, you truly cannot figure out just what this man’s deal is.
“Well, then,” Levi murmurs against your ear, “we’ll leave that one out from now on.”
____________________
Millie informs you that you look like shit over breakfast, and you tell her to kindly fuck off.
____________________
These lovely morning meetings become routine. Since you’re waking up earlier, you try your best to go to sleep earlier too, but you’re a night owl who can’t be caged, so the operation isn’t really successful there.
Instead, you try to rest any second you can during the day. While Millie, Stephen and Ricky are reading over their notes under the same birch tree that you and Lieutenant Levi meet at, you’re lying on the grass with an arm thrown over your eyes. It’s not like you need to study that hard - one doesn’t need whole hours to learn that titans are dangerous.
Besides, your arms are sore from your push-ups this morning. You usually don’t do the same thing twice in a row, apparently the lieutenant likes to switch things up. Which is just fine with you, of course, you’ve never been a fan of the same old thing every day; you joined the military to get away from the feeling that all your days were stationary and felt the same. And the whole dead dad thing, but that’s kinda secondary.
“Try putting ice on it,” Stephen offers helpfully, the only one of the three to take your complaining in stride.
“Try putting a gag in your mouth,” Millie adds.
“Try taking the stick out of your ass,” you tell her pointedly before offering a grateful smile to Stephen.
“Have you considered asking yourself if this is worth it?” Ricky tosses his notes aside and nudges your head with his knee. “Your super duper revenge plan -”
“It’s a mega super duper revenge plan.”
“Yeah, that. Is it worth exhausting yourself like this?”
Surprisingly, Stephen is the one who speaks up. “I don’t think it’s right for a superior to disrespect his subordinate and get away with it without any repercussions.”
“Look, what he did was...sketchy,” Ricky concedes, “but he’s him, y’know? Some people are good enough to act like that and get away with it.”
“No one’s good enough to act like that. Do you know how hard he runs me into the ground every single day? He’s never satisfied, not until I’m fucking collapsing. The only reason he’s stopped dumping water on me is because he says it’s a waste of resources.” You blow out a puff of air, frustrated. Why does no one understand how not okay the lieutenant’s actions are? “And he never does anything himself. I haven’t picked up any weaknesses. I have to keep going until I find one.”
“That’ll take you your entire time here.”
“So be it,” you say dramatically, before finally sitting up.
You’ll stick to it for however long it takes. There are boundaries that should never be crossed, and Lieutenant Levi’s managed to cross every single one of them.
Out of the corner of your eye, you catch a familiar figure. It’s him, of course it’s him. It’s not enough that he disturbs your sleep, no, he has to make his presence known during the day too. Sure, maybe he’s just going about his day and not actively trying to aggravate you, but he’s still in your line of sight and he has such a punchable face.
Maybe Lieutenant Levi senses that he’s being watched, because his head turns and he catches your gaze.
You wave with a sugary smile, acting like you weren’t just fantasizing about punching his face.
Without so much as an acknowledgement, he looks away and keeps walking.
You scoff. Rude fucking midget.
____________________
The best parts of your days are undeniably after hours. Or more specifically, that small period before dinner and bedtime, when there’s nothing required of you, and you can slip away. You like leaving a bit earlier than everyone else, just to enjoy the cool night outside. It’s funny, how there are so many rules and restrictions here at the military, but a girl can still just get up and wander outside at night and no one will look at her strangely. It’s a wonderful feeling, freedom.
You’re just about to begin what’s sure to be a leisurely walk around the grounds when there’s suddenly a vice-like grip on your arm. You gasp, the first instinct to defend yourself. You raise your fist and immediately launch it, only for it to be caught rather easily.
The lieutenant rolls his eyes at your attempt to defend yourself. “I sincerely hope you never get mugged.”
If he followed you out here, that’s frankly quite creepy and he should feel ashamed of himself.
“I hope someone steals your cravat,” you mutter, and the corners of his lips twitch in amusement. “Can you let go? Sir,” you add quickly - it was becoming easier to forget that you had to refer to him properly. “I have a walk to take that doesn’t involve doing push-ups or crunches.”
His eyes are alight with cruel intentions. You hate that you still find them fascinating. “I have a training exercise for you.”
“You’re a few hours early, Lieutenant.” You give him a condescending smile. “See, 4 AM actually isn’t until much much later. It’s okay, I know telling time can be tough.”
His lips purse in displeasure, and you mentally do a small, victorious dance.
“Be that as it may, I recall telling you that your training can take place at any time that I see fit.”
“But,” you protest, stomping your foot childishly, “you also said you didn’t want to interfere with my regular training!”
He makes a point of looking to the right and then to the left and then finally back at you. “I don’t see any drills going on around here. Do you?”
If you say you do, will he let you off? Probably not, he’ll just cart you off to the infirmary and declare you mental.
“Fine,” you mutter with gritted teeth, “what is it now?”
Without answering, he turns and beckons you to follow. Like a good little obedient soldier. You fume silently, walking behind with clenched fists. First he cuts into your rightful nap time, and now into your wonderful walking time. Is there no limit to the amount of serene, private moments he plans to intrude on?
For some reason, the two of you head indoors, towards the rooms and offices. You may just be a dumb cadet, but even you’re pretty certain that none of the exercises are done in here. Is he taking you to his room? Why would he -
Wait.
Your mouth falls open, but your steps don’t falter. This is highly inappropriate. You don’t know what kind of woman Lieutenant Levi takes you to be, but you did not sign up for this. So you ask him to train you and call him sir a few times, and the man thinks you’re all good and willing, does he? That since he’s Humanity’s Strongest, he can have whoever he wants? What an insult to the name of courting. Where he finds the nerve to keep pulling stunts like these, you’ll never know.
Training your ass. This is an indecent night call. And you would never, ever -
Well.
Maybe. In a hot, scandalous kind of way that you would only ever tell Millie about. Not that you’d enjoy it, not with him. It’s more the forbidden aspect that’s attractive. It’s certainly not about the lieutenant, even with his nimble fingers and cold eyes and sharp tongue that you’re sure he could work wonders with - okay so maybe it is about him a little bit.
But it would also be delightful to turn him down. To watch the light leave his eyes (not that it was there in the first place) as you proudly tell him you respect yourself too much to sleep with a man who’s so arrogant and callous. Yeah, that’ll show him.
His fingers, though.
You’re so caught up in your little debate that you almost crash into him when he stops in front of a door. Ah, a private area. The barracks? How many members of his squad does he share a room with? You twitch uncomfortably.
“Here we are.” Even his voice sounds sultry. Or maybe it always sounds like that. Who knows.
“Why are we here, sir?” Your throat feels dry.
He turns and gives you a look that is decidedly not sexy. Rather, it seems like he thinks you’re the most idiotic person he’s ever had the unfortunate pleasure of laying his eyes on.
“You’re going to clean up in here, did you not hear me the first time?”
What?
You’re not sure what feels the most embarrassing. The fact that he’s apparently decided you’re the official Training Corp maid, or that you had actually been so comfortably considering sleeping with him that you tuned out what he was saying.
Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you frown. “Sir, I mean no offense -” He raises a brow, clearly ready to get offended - “but your, er, sanitary habits are pretty much known to everyone here. I doubt that I’ll be able to make your room sparkle more than it already does.”
Lieutenant Levi scoffs. “Then it’s a good thing this isn’t my room.”
He opens the door and your mouth falls open in horror.
“This is Lieutenant Hange’s lab,” he explains as he steps in, “and before you ask, I’ve already secured her permission for you to clean up.” Producing a broom out of thin air, he shoves it in your waiting hands.
“Lieutenant, I...this is…”
“Disgusting. Yeah. So better not waste any time. You need to get some sleep if you want to survive your morning drills tomorrow.”
“Lieutenant, I’m from Stohess.” Too late do you realize that you’re pleading. “I’ve never even seen a pig’s den that is as messy as this.”
Countless exercises at the crack of dawn, and this is what’s broken you. The room is horrifying. It’s straight out of any neat freak’s nightmares. You don’t know how the lieutenant even stomachs looking at it.
“Never cleaned your own room, huh? Not surprised,” he muses, and you shoot him a dirty look.
This isn’t the spoiled brat in you talking, no, this is the sane human who knows that this room is basically hell incarnate.
“How does this count as training? You just need someone to do the Survey Corps’ dirty work!”
“Is there anything you don’t complain about?” he demands, but oho, you are ready.
“Exercising I can understand. Your random bursts of physical violence - harsh, but whatever.” Not like you’re trying to get vengeance for them, but he doesn’t have to know that. “This is just work, and I want to be paid if you’re making me do work.”
This makes him snort, shaking his head at you like he’s your teacher and you’re not understanding the most basic of concepts. “You’re not a merchant, (L/N), you’re a soldier.”
“A soldier, not a servant!”
“I am ordering you to do this,” he says softly, “are you disobeying an order, Cadet?”
Well, when he puts it like that, you’d rather not get kicked out of the military before you even complete your training. And certainly not before you make the lieutenant pay with everything you have. Oh, revenge will be sweet.
Begrudgingly, you step into the lab, swallowing your nervous inhibitions. This place is a dump, you wonder how Lieutenant Hange even gets any work done in here.
Goddammit, you are never going to clean this place up, no matter how hard you try!
“Like I said, we still need you to sleep,” the he-devil murmurs behind you, “so this better be done in an hour. I’ll come check on you then.”
Oh, fuck him. You wait until he leaves, and then get to work.
____________________
His royal highness comes back an hour later just like he said he would. When he opens the door, he finds you sprawled on the floor against the wall, tired but with your chest puffed up proudly, eyes zeroed in on him to see his reaction.
The room is spotless and distinctly organized. Papers that were strewn everywhere are now in one pile next to a stack of Lieutenant Hange’s many, many journals. Vials and flasks have been placed on top of one another by the sink, where they can be quickly washed and ready for use. The tops of the desks are spotless and dust-free. The floor is not only clean, but shiny.
There’s a brief flash of surprise on Lieutenant Levi’s face as he looks back at you. You allow yourself to smirk. Sure, your arms hurt even worse than they already did and you still feel like a maid because you’ve done more cleaning in the last hour than you have in your entire life (not because you’re spoiled, just because no rooms back home are ever this messy), but it’s worth it to see that he’s impressed by you, no matter how he tries to hide it.
You don’t know why you want him to be impressed in the first place, but you decide not to question it right now.
“Not bad,” he finally relents, walking up to you. “You plan to sleep here, or are you gonna get up?”
You snort. Such a charmer, this one. Well, you’re too lazy to stand on your own, so you hold your hand up expectantly. It’s really the least he can do after being no help at all.
After giving you a long look, he takes your hand and pulls you up to your feet. Your legs feel a little wobbly, and you wryly think about how you’d figured you’d be leaving the base with wobbly legs anyway. What a ridiculous fantasy. You hate him, and he probably hates you too. You would never do anything of any sort with him.
“Go to bed,” he orders quietly, taking note of how tired you look.
“So, 5 AM tomorrow, right?”
Again, he looks dryly amused like he always does when you say things like this, as though you’re just the funniest fucking person he’s ever met. “Nice try, (L/N).”
“When do you even sleep?” you question, brows furrowed in curiosity. You’ve wondered for a while.
Lieutenant Levi shrugs. “Usually from 1 to 3.”
You blink in disbelief, shaking your head. “Sorry, what?”
“Got a problem with that?” He’s clearly not fond of where the conversation’s headed, since he grabs you by the back of your collar and pushes you forward, out of the room. You comply, but you’re not done with this line of questioning. No one can just get two hours of sleep daily and continue to function normally.
“Is this why you’re so grouchy all the time?”
“You have no respect at all,” he quips, still shoving you ahead. The base is for the most part, bare and empty, since nearly everyone’s gone to bed by now. There’s only a few people still around, and they pay the two of you no mind.
“Have you always been an insomniac?”
“Fail to see why it’s any of your business.”
“Are you trying to make me an insomniac?”
The lieutenant sucks in an exasperated breath. “No, then I’d be punishing all insomniacs.”
“Rude.”
“You’re one to talk.”
You don’t know why it’s so easy to engage in banter with him. He never discourages you, as much as he points out how unruly you are. In fact, he seems to enjoy it almost as much as you do.
And you do enjoy it, as much as you don’t want to.
“Lieutenant,” you begin hesitantly, not sure why you’re saying this, “I hear chamomile helps people go to sleep.”
“So it does,” he mutters dryly, “thanks for the observation.”
Fuck him, you were trying to be helpful.
“Are you going to walk me all the way back?” You hum thoughtfully, craftily. “People might get the wrong idea.”
At this, his footsteps stop, and you wince. God, your mouth really just runs a mile ahead of your brain at all times, doesn’t it? It won’t be satisfied until you’ve dug yourself into a hole that you just can’t get out of. Implying to Lieutenant Levi that people would think the two of you had sex is just the icing on top of the snarky cake you’ve been baking him since you got here. When you turn around, he’s looking at you with an appraising expression.
“What wrong idea will they get, Cadet?” he asks softly, grey eyes piercing through you.
Your mouth is dry. Surely he knows, does he need you to say it? Of course he does, he wants to make you uncomfortable. You can’t even blame him, this one’s all on you.
Screw it, you might as well be blunt.
“They might think we slept together.”
If he’s taken aback, he doesn’t show it. “I see. And what would you do if these rumors spread?”
You take a deep breath. “Gouge my eyes out, sir.”
This time, you can’t chalk it up to your imagination or a trick of the light. He scoffs, but he’s laughing, normally cruel lips twisted in a humorous smile. You’re surprised by how pleasant the sight is, like looking at a lily in a field of roses. Out of place, yet so very beautiful, a sight you can’t take your eyes off of. Just how does one man manage to be so fascinating? It takes a lot to make you want to swoon, especially for someone who you harbor such negative feelings for. How does he manage it so easily?
“Can’t have that.” His expression is still lit up in mirth. “You better go the rest of the way yourself.”
You salute, and turn around. Even as you walk, the image of him laughing - laughing at something you said - is burned into your mind, and it makes something in your chest clench in an all too unfamiliar way.
Maybe he watches you go, but you’re too proud to look back and check.
____________________
The air is abuzz with excitement. Everyone’s been waiting for this day. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that everyone joined the military simply so that they could do this.
This being using the ODM gear, of course. Everyone has mastered the basics by now, or they’ve dropped out. The one who stayed have perfected balancing and not falling flat on their faces, they’ve watched senior veterans use the gear, and they’ve gotten a brief example of what it feels like to be shot forward through the air. Utilizing the blades properly will eventually be taught too, but for now, they get to practice flying. Actual flying. How amazing is that?
While people usually pair off on their own, Grumman sees fit to assign pairs himself today, much to everyone’s chagrin. By some shitty luck, you’re not paired with Millie, Ricky, or Stephen. You’re not even paired with Nifa or Jack, who you’re friendly enough with.
No, you’re paired with Petra fucking Ral.
You probably wouldn’t even know or care about who Petra was if not for Millie’s incessant complaining about her. Petra is one of the few people who balanced in the gear belts perfectly on her first try (you were also in that group, but Millie’s not gonna complain about you to you), Petra is all their teachers’ favorite because of how easily she retains information, Petra doesn’t have a hair out of place even when she fights. Petra this, Petra that.
Petra is Millie’s main competition for the number one position.
Frankly, you think your best friend is projecting.
“Do you feel a bit ridiculous too?” she asks after the two of you have put your gear on.
“Just a little.” You face her and strike a pose. “Do you think the titans would appreciate some more flair?”
Petra laughs, nodding. “Some eye candy would go a long way, I’m sure.”
The two of you exchange grins, straightening to attention when the instructor passes in front of you. He looks between you and murmurs something to himself before shouting out loud for just about everybody to hear. “(L/N) and Ral will go first! All the rest of you little shits, pay attention!”
Apparently being paired with golden girl Petra Ral means that you’re supposed to be a role model or something now. You groan inwardly - it seems everyone is convinced you want to be a model cadet. When will they get it through their thick skulls that you’re not that boring?
You and your partner step apart until there’s a safe distance between you two. In front of you is a forest, a forest that is the perfect place to practice with the ODM gear. You grip the handles firmly, knees crouching a little. Excitement bubbles inside you as you tense in anticipation. This is it! This is the first step to you becoming a full-fledged soldier. You’re one step closer to everything you’ve worked for.
“On my mark! Ready, set…”
You toss your shoulders back and push your chest forward and out of the corner of your eye you see Petra do the same.
“Go.”
Whizzing sounds are heard as the two of you fire your cables at the same time. You gasp as you’re shot forward, hurtling through the air at an electrifying speed. The trees rush past you in a blur of green and brown as you go up, up, up into the sky. You let out a breathless laugh as the hooks come free. This feeling, this feeling of your stomach jumping, this nerve-wracking feeling of doing something so dangerous and so thrilling at the same time - you’ve been craving it all your life. And here you are. You’re doing it, you’re actually up in the air and you’re flying. It’s incredible. You could stay up here forever.
So enthralled are you by this experience that you forget to hook to the next target, and with an unceremonious shriek you tumble through the branches and fall on the dirt below. Some gets in your mouth, unfortunately, and you hear loud chortles behind you. You spit out the rancid soil, shooting a glare behind you when you hear another whiz.
Up above you, Petra is still in the air. She’s slowly lowering herself down, though, concern dancing in her eyes as she stumbles to a stop a few feet away from you and rushes to help you up.
“Are you okay?” She looks genuine.
You sigh. Fucking Millie, she couldn’t share your distaste for Lieutenant Levi but she found it in her to hate this girl?
“I’m alright.” You take her hand and stand up, dusting dirt off your clothes. “Just got carried away.”
Petra giggles. “You were saying something about flair, right?”
You smile wryly, beckoning for her to come closer as an idea pops into your head. “We’ve got about two minutes before Grumman sends in the next pair. I bet I can get deeper into the forest than you can.”
Her eyes shine competitively, and she nods.
And without a beat, you two are up in the air again. You’re not a natural like she is, but you sincerely doubt that she or anyone else appreciates the wind whipping through their face quite like you do. You belong up here. You can feel it. For the first time in your life, you know instantly that you’re creating a memory that you will cherish for however little time you might have left.
____________________
Your heart beats with excitement as you bounce on the heels of your feet, looking behind your shoulder nervously. “Hurry up, Ricky!”
“I’m hurrying, now be quiet, someone’s gonna hear you.”
You don’t see how. No one is wandering around the kitchens right now. The cooks who prepare the food left their stations ages ago, and no one else in the base would have any reason to be wandering down here. Normally, you wouldn’t have any reason either, but today is a bit of a special day. Or more accurately, it’s a precursor to a special day. The day after tomorrow will mark the Survey Corps’ next expedition and as always, the cooks are preparing something special for the heroes and fools. An energizer for some, and a last meal for others. While you know that the lowly cadets haven’t done anything heroic - yet - you and Ricky agreed that some pastries would surely make everyone happy. Just a few measly sweet tarts, the Scouts wouldn’t miss them. You didn’t lay a hand on the meat, knowing fully well that most of the people going out in two days would savor it much more than you would.
Ricky is quickly shoving the tarts into a pouch, taking his sweet time counting so that everyone got the same amount. Fucking outer city peasant, concerned with fairness. You sigh impatiently, bouncing on your feet. You’re hungry. The bread at dinner seemed even more stale than usual today.
“Hey, what are you two doing?”
Your eyes widen at the same time as Ricky’s - why in the holy hells is the head chef still here? Does he sleep here? Before you can consider the disturbing implications of that possibility, you’re grabbing Ricky’s arm and running for all you’re worth. You’re counting on the fact that it’s dark in the kitchens, so hopefully he didn’t see your face. Unfortunately, the chef seems intent on finding out who broke into his precious kitchen, because he clambers on out after you.
After running for two minutes, he shows no sign of stopping.
“S-split up,” Ricky pants, wheezing as you two flee.
“Fine,” you huff, a bit proud of the fact that you’ve got more tolerance than he does, “but I want leverage.”
Without waiting for him to respond, you snatch a pastry from the top of the bag and skid to the hallway on the right while Ricky keeps running forward. The chef chooses to chase him, and you cackle maniacally at your friend’s terrible luck. You’re home free, and you have your dessert as a trophy too.
You turn your head to double check, turn back, and then crash face first into someone’s chest.
Rough hands grip your wrists to catch and steady you, and when your eyes adjust to the darkness, you want to scream.
Why is he everywhere?
Lieutenant Levi’s gaze goes from the tart in your hand to your panicked expression, and he understands what’s going on without any need for an explanation from you. He takes a step closer to you, tugging you firmly so you can’t move back. You swallow nervously, stuttering out apologies for crashing into him and for being up past curfew. He listens to you ramble, but doesn’t let go. His eyes flicker to the pastry again.
“Those are for the Scouts,” he murmurs lowly. Is it your stupid imagination again or does his voice sound more husky than usual? “Not for fucking brats, (L/N).”
Normally you’d answer with some witty comeback, but you’re feeling a bit dizzy with how close he is and how hungrily his stormy eyes are watching you. The most you can do is open and close your mouth like a fish out of water. You’re in deep shit now, you know that much.
Without removing his piercing gaze from your face, he lowers his head a bit, and takes a bite out of the tart in your hand.
You could swear your heart stops beating for a second. His grip on your wrists suddenly feels like it’s hard enough to make them bruise, even though you can tell he’s not holding on that tight. You watch him chew, swallow, and then lick his lips, all without looking away for even a second. It’s mesmerizing. Before you can tell what you’re doing, you raise the tart a bit, and let him take another bite. As though you’re fucking feeding him, like a good fucking girl. The lieutenant’s lips curl into a small smirk, and you think you’re going to drop on the spot when he takes a third bite, finishing the pastry, the tip of his tongue just brushing against your index finger.
You wonder if he can hear just how erratically your heart is pounding.
Levi’s close, too close. You don’t know what to do, how to break his scrutiny of your face, or if you even want to. He leans in, just a little. Your breath gets caught in your throat. When did you forget how to breathe? It should be easy. Suck in air, let it out, repeat.
He tilts his head a millimeter.
You sigh in anticipation, lean forward, and…
He turns away at the last second, and your lips meet his cheek.
Fuck.
You gasp against his skin, not moving. From his amused expression, he can tell that your face is burning up. Somehow, he’s managed to embarrass you again, even if this instance isn’t public and doesn’t end with you in pain. This feels worse than all the other times, though. Before, you were simply thrown around, his way of calling you weak. Physically weak. Not strong enough, a rookie. But this, this is him telling you that he knows he lords some power over you, something that transcends his rank. Something personal.
“Thanks for the snack,” he says, stepping back only a little (see: not enough) to cup your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Now hurry to bed before I decide I want more.”
Heat pools from your stomach right down to your core. If possible, your cheeks grow even hotter.
The lieutenant lets go and turns around, leaving you standing there with a wide-eyed expression, feeling strangely empty as you watch him go.
You’re never going to let him catch you breaking curfew again.
If you’ve never done calf raises before, I do not recommend, they genuinely will leave you sore for a bit if you’re not used to them. But otherwise, yay for exercise I guess.
Reader is very cocky but we love her for it.
We don’t have Petra slander here, folks. I adore her. Millie doesn’t, though. Rip.
Let me know what you think!
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Hazbin Hotel and VivziePop Drama
I've been hearing/seeing a lot of drama concerning Hazbin Hotel and it's creator VivziePop, and while I don't know her personally or really care what people think, I do hate slander and the spread of misinformation. Truly nothing in this world upsets me more than when people believe rumours while making no effort to fact check, and that's exactly what's happening right now. That said, I wanted to try and clear up some of the rumours going around about Vivzie and the show, because I think some of them are absolutely outrageous and need to be addressed.
1. Vivzie hired an abuser onto the show.
Now, I’m not here to burn anyone at the stake, especially since I don’t know anything about Chris Niosi (the alleged abuser), who I believe openly admitted to the allegations? Regardless, this is a moot point. He’s not credited anywhere at the end of the episode. So either he was booted before production wrapped up or he had nothing to do with the show in the first place.
2. Vivzie supports bestiality.
Admittedly I thought this one might be true, since she draws so many anthropomorphic animals. In the very least, I figured she was probably a furry, but I haven't seen any evidence supporting this accusation either. Near as I can tell, this rumour started for two reasons. One, because of her famous Zoophobia comic, which revolves around a therapist named Cameron who gets assigned to work with human-like animals. Ironically, poor Cameron suffers from crippling zoophobia, which makes for some pretty decent comedy. I didn't read the whole comic because, quite frankly, it’s not my cup of tea and I just don’t have the time. But from what I saw there are no examples of bestiality anywhere in its contents.
Two, this message, which blew up all over social media:
To me, this just proves that people are more interested in virtue signalling than checking to see if their claims are actually true. Everything about this message is 100% false, which I’ll touch on in my next point.
3. Vivzie is a pedophile and she’s drawn child porn.
This is hands down the worst allegation and holy shit, I really wish people would stop using it to defame someone when they don't have any proof. This is a life-ruining accusation and you're disgusting if you believe it based solely on hearsay. This rumour began to spread when Vivzie allegedly shipped the two underage characters in the above photo and drew them NSFW-style. At the time, one character was 19 while the other was 14, and the relationship was a very illegal student-teacher relationship.
This is WRONG! The characters were not 14 and 19, they were actually 18 and 19, the legal age of consent! Additionally, the relationship wasn't student-teacher. One character is a student and the other is Alumni (a student teacher). This one pisses me off the most because it’s obvious the person who sent that message didn’t even bother to conduct any research. They said, “He’s a teacher, she’s a child.” Both characters are MALE!
Since then, Vivzie has apologised for any NSFW art she drew in the past and stated that it's not a reflection of her art today, and I'm inclined to believe her. Almost every artist has drawn NSFW content at some point in their career, and hers wasn't even distasteful. Other than this one example, there is no evidence anywhere that suggests she’s drawn “child porn”. In fact, she’s never even drawn explicit NSFW.
Please stop spreading this rumour. It’s dangerous and completely incorrect.
4. Vivzie said the "N" word!
No, she didn’t. It was a fabricated tweet. That is all.
5. Vivzie is copyright striking every video that criticises her!
No she isn't. YouTube’s DMCA is automatically striking people who are using full clips without permission. Vivzie has gone public several times, telling people exactly how to avoid getting a copy strike from the algorithm, which is something she absolutely does not have to do. At this point, she doesn't owe you anything. In my opinion, she should just sit back and watch these channels burn.
6. Vivzie copies and traces other artists’ work.
This is another one I’ve seen going around, but I looked into it as thoroughly as I could and failed to find any concrete evidence to support the allegations. As of right now, there are only two examples of Vivzie “copying” or “tracing” other artists’ work, and both of them can be explained. The first is a gif she made with a character from her Zoophobia comic, which looked a lot like the girl from ME!ME!ME!:
Damn, that’s pretty incriminating. She obviously stole-- oh, wait. This gif was part of a ME!ME!ME! MEP (multi editor’s project) and Vivzie didn’t take full credit, despite the fact that it’s not even a direct trace. It’s supposed to look like the original, which she fully cited. The second example comes from a short dance sequence from her Timber video, which seems to have been inspired by several Disney movies. As Vivzie herself stated, that was an homage to the original animations. Lots of artists and shows do this, including the beloved Stephen Universe series.
Regardless, this doesn’t count as stealing character designs or plagiarising someone’s work. It’s meant to be respectful, an admiration of other projects. Other than these two instances, however, there is no evidence of her tracing or stealing other people’s art. From what I’ve discovered, all other designs she’s been accused of “stealing” are characters she bought and paid for. They’re quite literally HER characters.
7. Vivzie supports problematic creators.
I’m getting really tired of guilt by association. Vivzie follows and enjoys some controversial figures, but who cares? We can argue all day about whether or not the accusations against them are true, but it ultimately has nothing to do with the show or Vivzie as a person. I do the exact same thing, to be honest-- follow and listen to people on all sides so I can learn, understand, and form my own opinions. The fact that some people think this is bad, to me, is absolutely mesmerising. Vivzie doesn’t control what the people she follows post, and if they do something overly questionable she publicly criticises and denounces it.
From Vivzie:
Now that that’s been dealt with, I’d like to address some complaints/claims about the actual show.
8. Vaggie is an angry Latina stereotype and a lesbian stereotype. Vivzie is appropriating Hispanic culture and misrepresenting the gay for profit.
First off, I see a lot of people passing around yet more misinformation regarding Vivzie's race. So many people seem to think she's white? Well, I'm here to tell you they're wrong. Very incorrect. Vivzie is in fact Latina, and Vaggie is meant to mirror some of her own personality traits.
Second, who is Vaggie mad at? Context matters, and if we take a look at the episode, we see that Vaggie is literally only mad at two specific people: Angel Dust and Alastor. Why? Well, for starters, it's her girlfriend's dream to run a rehab hotel for sinners, and Angel Dust nearly demolishes that dream single-handedly. Vaggie has every right to be over-the-top vitriolic. Then there's Alastor, a known sadist, narcissist, and murderer who loves trapping people in his nefarious schemes. He invites himself in, effectively takes over the hotel, and pushes both her and Charlie aside. At one point he even sexually assaults her by slapping her butt during his musical number. So yeah, I think her seething ire is totally justified. Keep in mind, however, that when she's around Charlie she's calm, collected, and happy. I wouldn't call that a stereotype.
Thirdly, the lesbian stereotypes. I keep hearing this argument but I really don't see it. Both Vaggie and Charlie have so much personality and trust for each other. Maybe I'm wrong, but the stereotype I know always totes a more butch, tomboyish woman with a ditsy, innocent, naive woman. Charlie is optimistic, but she isn't stupid. She refuses to shake Alastor’s hand because she knows he’s likely trying to screw her over. She’s also not entirely innocent herself and uses words like “fuck” and “shit”. I also wouldn’t call Vaggie butch or tomboyish. She has a cute, girly presentation, complete with a pink ribbon in her hair, lace stockings, and a dress. She's protective of her girlfriend, as I think we all are with our partners, and there's nothing wrong with that. They're flawed characters, as every character is meant to be. This isn't a problem.
9. The show is racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, blah, blah, blah.
I’m amazed this is even an argument. The show is supposed to be a dark comedy that takes place in HELL. You know, the place the worst of the worst end up after they die? What were you expecting? Everyone gets a shot or two fired at them, but that doesn't make them bad characters nor does it make the show itself horrible. Take, for example, Katie Killjoy, the news reporter so many people are up in arms about. She says she doesn’t “touch the gays” because she has “standards”. Well, here’s a newsflash of my own: we’re not supposed to like her! She’s an antagonist. Not to mention ten seconds later Charlie insults her and isn’t the least bit slighted by her pretentious attitude. The characters are strong and don’t take shit from anyone, because to some degree they’re all terrible people who can throw down when it’s called for.
Obviously if you don’t like the show or think it’s offensive, I’m probably not going to change your mind. That’s perfectly fine. You’re entitled to your opinions and you don’t have to watch the show. Just stop lying and stop trying to take it away from everybody else. Stop attacking Vivzie and spreading misinformation without checking the facts. I realise a lot of people probably aren’t trying to be vindictive and only want to do something good, but just remember this: the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
#hazbin hotel#vivziepop#vivzie#alastor#angel dust#vaggie#charlie#timber#stephen universe#drama#radio demon
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Burn - Loki Smut
The one where a dark!Loki becomes obsessed with you and won’t stop until you’re his. Based on a request from the incredible @cosvic-brownie.
Warnings: non-con, smut, breeding, kidnapping, obsessive behavior, dirty talk, bdsm, bruising, possessiveness, spanking
Loki’s P.O.V.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” From the moment you two met, you had impressed him. While everyone recoiled at the mere sight of the prince, despised in Asgard, feared here, you treated him like he was any other - no, you treated him like he was proper royalty - like he deserved to be rightfully treated. You never flinched when he found ways to touch you innocently, like when he accepted the cup of tea you offered him in the mornings or when you showed him how to use the remote to turn on that lousy screen that everyone was so obsessed with.
He’d never before shown any interest in learning how to use such devices, but as soon as you appeared in his life, he took whatever means possible to be able to smell your sweet perfume that enticed him so very dearly.
Meanwhile, you never even noticed. Loki could easily see that all of his attention, his little ways of showing you his interest went completely unseen. It wasn’t that you didn’t care - in fact, the problem was the exact opposite: you cared too much. You had a heart bigger than yourself, and you showed your love for everyone equally, all the time.
Loki didn’t like that. He wanted you all to himself, or at least that you prioritized him just as he had done when he put you in the frontline of all of his thoughts. Sometimes, he could see why it was wrong of him to want you. But even in those moments, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Wasn’t he already a monster? You were the only possibility of him ever joining the light. He needed you.
So he patiently watched over your every move, ever the gentleman, always there to help and smile when you needed someone. He couldn’t very well let anyone else be the one who fulfilled your needs. While watching, he created and perfected his plan, while feeding his belief that you were the right person for him. In his mind, you were already his. Certainly, the way your eyes lit up when he joined you in the kitchen every morning or how you constantly asked for his opinions during conversations were your way of communicating without raising your team’s suspicions, right? They would never understand just how badly you wanted to be with him, alone with him, only with him. But he did. And he would do everything in his power to make you happy.
One day, an opportunity appeared. You had announced to everyone that you were going to use up some vacation time to finally get to travel a bit, and Loki could barely believe his own ears. This was really it. Somehow, you had understood his schemes and planned accordingly. Now, you’d finally be able to run away together.
Loki didn’t even sleep that night, just patiently waited in the darkest corner of your room until your bags were packed and you had fallen asleep. Grinning from ear to ear, he ran a single finger over the skin that had become exposed as your top scrunched up from your restless movements, and in a blast of dark green mist, you were both gone.
Y/N’s P.O.V.
At first, you couldn’t understand what was wrong. In fact, it didn’t really seem like anything was wrong. You felt… warm. Comfortable, even. Slowly, your senses started to awaken as your body did, and it was only when you tried to stretch like you usually did every morning that you realized that, in fact, something really was wrong.
“Loki?” You whispered, finding his green eyes looking at you expectantly as he grinned like the cat who got the mouse. “Why are you in my bed?” Just then, his fingers tightened around my waist, making me realize something much more important. “Loki…” I started, “Why am I naked?”
Instead of an answer, what I got was a kiss. My eyes widened at the feeling of his lips on mine. I had dreamed of this moment countless times, but I’d never imagined it to happen like this. It felt off, especially since I couldn’t understand what was going on. “You’re not kissing me back,” he took notice after some time of trying to pry my lips open with his.
“And you didn’t answer me,” I countered, and that same damn smirk appeared on his face again.
“Well, you’re in my bed, darling. And that means that you have to follow my rules. In my bed, no clothes are allowed.” That statement led me to realize two more things. First, there was a particular hardness well pressed against my lower belly, and there was absolutely no sort of barrier between our skins. He was naked too. Second, the light of the sun shining through the thin curtains felt different over us. Colder, but also bluer.
“Loki, when you say this is your bedroom… We’re not in the tower, are we?” By now, I think he had finally started to see that I was on the verge of a panic attack. Immediately, he let go of my waist, separating himself from me just enough so he could hold my face.
“Of course not, my dove. We’re on Asgard. Why are you acting like this? Isn’t this what you wanted?” My head was throbbing by then, as was another part of me that I was trying very hard to ignore. Now wasn’t the time to feel horny, no matter how attracted to Loki I’d been before… before he kidnapped me. Because this was what had happened. And it was wrong.
“Loki, when you say this is your bedroom… We’re not in the tower, are we?” By now, I think he had finally started to see that I was on the verge of a panic attack. Immediately, he let go of my waist, separating himself from me just enough so he could hold my face.
“Of course not, my dove. We’re on Asgard. Why are you acting like this? Isn’t this what you wanted?” My head was throbbing by then, as was another part of me that I was trying very hard to ignore. Now wasn’t the time to feel horny, no matter how attracted to Loki I’d been before… before he kidnapped me. Because this was what had happened. And it was wrong.
Very carefully, I pushed him away from me so I could sit up, mindful of the fact that I shouldn’t startle him or even make it clear that I was scared of him in any way. It wouldn’t serve my purpose and it might as well only offend or irritate him.
Besides, I wasn’t even sure I was scared of him, exactly. Was I confused? 100%. But if there was one thing that was clear here was that there was some sort of mishap going on. I was more afraid of the situation as a whole than of Loki himself. He just… he seemed so vulnerable. As was I, naked as the day I was born, in his bed in Asgard.
The reality of the situation suddenly dwelled upon me. I was trying to find reasons for what was going on because it was hard to suddenly change how I felt about the man I liked, but the truth was, I hardly knew him at all. And everyone did try to warn me against him.
Perhaps they were right. At least, things weren’t looking so great to me right now, and Loki was the only one to blame. Thankfully, he allowed me to sit up on the bed, but as soon as I was able to locate something to cover me with, he ripped it from my arms, making me jump.
“What is going on here, dove? I thought this was what you wanted. You told everyone you were going away, so we could finally be here, together.” A sudden surge of panic took over me. He really was bonkers. I tried my hardest not to show it in my face, but the second a frown took over his beautiful features, I knew I was screwed. “Why did your heart speed up? You’re starting to make me very confused, my dear…”
I opened my mouth a few times, racking my brain, trying to figure out a way to make it out of here. But I wasn’t fast enough. Loki seemed to have had enough of my behavior, and he pulled on my wrist so I’d lay down on the bed again, this time forcing my legs open so he could kneel between them, hovering over me.
“Despite what kind of egocentric personality people tend to associate with me, I don’t like to talk with myself, my sweet…” He held my jaw, making me look him in the eye. “So tell me, just what is going on?” I bit my tongue so nothing would come out. There was nothing I could honestly say that would make him happy. It was better to remain silent.
Of course, my silence already told him everything he needed to know. When Loki clicked his tongue, the sound resonated across the room, making me flinch despite my best wishes. “I see…” Was all he spoke, his eyes leaving mine to wander down, down, until they found that place I had unwillingly exposed to him and was trying very hard to ignore in the moment.
I knew what he would find when he turned his attention there. That’s why when he humorlessly chuckled, it didn’t surprise me at all, as it didn’t surprise me when two of his fingers lightly ran over my pussy lips, collecting some of the wetness that had gathered there.
“So I must be imagining this too, right?” I shivered when he moaned at my taste, his pink lips perfectly wrapped around the digits that had touched me.
Loki’s P.O.V.
“Just like I imagined the stolen glances, the little smiles… The way you talked to me. It was all a figment of my imagination, wasn’t it, darling?” She bit his lip at my words, guiltily avoiding my eyes as I raised my eyebrows. “Thought so. Well, if this is all in my head, I guess it doesn’t do any harm to take advantage of it, don’t you think?”
When her eyes widened as she processed my words, I waved my hand so hers would be restrained over her head in green silk just before she tried to sit up again. The image was everything I had dreamed of and more, and I couldn’t help but to purr, slowly running my hands over her delicious thighs.
“Relax, my dove… If you’re lucky, you might wake up to find out you’re still in the tower and this was nothing but a nightmare. But right now, you’re stuck in my dream, and I’m making the most out of it.” I delved into her waiting heat with unrestrained hunger. Just that teasing taste I had tried was nowhere near enough, I wanted to soak in her essence, bathe in it. When I was done with her, my sheets should be ruined by her wetness.
However, the more I licked on her little clit, slurping on her juices, the more I realized that I would never be done with her. How could I? Not when she tasted better than any royal feast I’d ever partaken in. Not when the little moans she tried so hard to suppress were igniting my flame, making me burn even brighter for her.
I wanted her forever. And not even herself will stand in my way of achieving that.
“Your taste is magnificent, my darling,” I moaned against her lower lips, the vibrations provoking a response strangled moan from her. Smirking, I sucked on her clit a little bit more before teasing her. “I’m sorry you’re not enjoying this, my sweet. If only you were feeling at least some of the pleasure I am from eating this delicious pussy.”
Just my words were enough to make her moan again. She wanted this, that much I knew to be true. It might not be in the way she expected it to happen, but now that it was, there wasn’t anything much she could do except to take what I was offering her.
The more I licked at her pussy, the more she offered me, granting me pride like nothing else. When her thighs started to quiver around me, I knew it was only a matter of seconds until she flooded my lips with more of her essence.
“Come on then, dove. No point in pretending anymore. Come for me, fill my mouth with your cream.” With a hoarse scream that tore its way from her throat, she did just so, and I happily drank all that she had to offer before deciding to let her taste herself at least a little bit. “Here, darling. See why you make me crazy?” She instinctively opened her lips a little bit when my fingers approached, dripping with her essence, but I forced them to completely accept my intrusion, pushing my digits as far as they could go inside her wet mouth, hearing her gag around them. “I can’t wait to hear that again, but it’ll sound so much better when you’re choking around my cock, my sweet.”
She opened her eyes at that, obviously intending on saying something back, but I only pushed them further down her throat before I brought my other hand in between her legs.
Y/N’s P.O.V.
I wanted to fight back, I wanted to shout and thrash around, but more than anything, I wanted more of what he had to offer. And I hated myself for it. God, what was wrong with me? Loki was abusing me, taking advantage of me and I had never been wetter in my life. Still, I knew I had to keep trying to break free. I needed to show him he couldn’t do this to me.
The second one of his long fingers penetrated me, my body fell slack against the bed. I couldn’t keep fighting it, I needed him and I needed him right then. “Please, please…” I started to moan, and that picked up his interest because he separated himself from my clit just enough to raise an eyebrow at me.
“Please? Already begging, my dove? Can you imagine how you’ll be by the time I’m done with you?” The second he finished his question, he started to furiously fuck me with that single finger, creating just enough friction to get me on the edge of orgasm again, but not enough to make me cum.
“Loki…” I whispered, desperate for more of something, anything, really. By then, my body was completely covered by a light sheen of sweat. I should be feeling dirty, especially since I was relenting to sexual activities I didn’t really accept to partake in, but all I felt was arousal, desire, need.
He hummed around me, still relentlessly sucking on my clit. “I think it’s time you call me something else, darling.” Trembling, I struggled to wrap my mind around what he was saying. All the while, his finger kept moving, in and out, in and out, making me frustrated beyond belief.
“W-what do you want me t-to call you?” He pretended to think for a moment, his lips still trapping my nub between them.
“Sir,” was his answer, and just then he forced another finger inside of me, prompting a second orgasm that made me scream. “Thank me for your pleasure, my sweet, c’mon. Thank your master.”
“T-thank you, sir,” I obediently acknowledged as soon as I was able to speak again. He blinded me with the most predatory smile I’d ever seen, crawling his way up my body until he could pull me by the back of my neck, forcing me to accept his tongue this time.
“See, my sweet? I can be so nice to you if you continue being a good girl for me. Why can’t you accept this? My claim on your body?” As much as I wanted to provide some sort of answer, any answer, it was hard to even think straight as he pressed the head of his cock against my overstimulated clit.
“N-no, no,” I tried to warn him away, feeling too sensitive to have him touch me another time, but that only served to change the tide of his mood against me yet again.
“What is this, my dove? Already misbehaving again?” Tsking, he held my hips forcefully, surely leaving bruises behind. “I thought you were smarter than this, but I guess you’ll still need some time to understand, huh? This cunt, my beloved…” He cupped my sensitive pussy while speaking. “... belongs to me.”
And with that, he pushed his cock completely inside of me, making me writhe for air as I struggled to accept the invasion. He was so long, I could feel him in my stomach, and as he didn’t allow me any time to adjust to his length.
I choked once again, in my desperate need to find air, and while I felt like I was drowning, I could hear Loki’s melodic laugh in my ears. “Do you feel me, my sweet? Possessing you from the inside? Look how deep I am inside of you. You’ll never want to be empty again. You’ll beg for my cock over and over and over again. And I’ll give it to you, over and over and over still.”
Opening my eyes to watch the thrusts he coordinated with each of his words, I found his green hues fixated on my lower abdomen. I checked to see what I already knew - each of his thrusts in created a bulge on the spot, showing just how true his sentences were. My pussy lips gripped him each time he pulled out to leave only the tip in, desperate to have him inside of me again.
My own transfixed observation was cut short by an uncharacteristically rough grunt from the man so determined to own me. My head flew up just as his fingers collected some of the excessive moisture seeping from inside me, already dampening the bed as he fucked me, and used them to ruthlessly play with my clit.
“Now, dove, it’s time for you to cum again. I can’t control myself much longer, I need to cum inside this pretty little pussy soon.” The words sparked something inside of me, suddenly remembering yet another reason why I shouldn’t be doing this, not like this.
“L-Loki,” I tried to warn, my legs cramping as I struggled yet again to get him off of me, but to no use. The only acknowledgment I received was a slap to my pussy, a punishment that my mind immediately processed while my body convulsed as I cum around him. “Sir!” I screamed, just as he doubled his effort to fuck me silly, taking advantage of the fact that I could no longer take control of my body.
His brows were dipped in concentration when I came to my senses, a single drop of sweat even running from his hairline to his beautiful nose. “Sir…” I tried again, my voice raspy beyond the point of recognition. “Please, I-I don’t have any… If you cum inside of me, I-I’ll…” The knowing smirk that appeared on Loki’s lips only served to worry me further.
“Shhh…” He tried to calm me down, his eyes still connected to where we were both joined, to where he had forced me to accept him. Each brutal snap of his hips against mine made me instinctively flinch away from him, but he only impaled me back on his cock with much more roughness.
Loki’s P.O.V.
I was hypnotized by the image of her petal lips engulfing my hardness, sucking me in, begging me to empty myself inside of her. And I would, oh how I would. I’d make sure that if she were to ever leave my bed again, it would be with a part of me forever in her. She’d never again remember how it felt to live without bearing my child.
“I know, my dove…” I assured her, raising a hand to cover her lips when it became clear that she was going to start screaming again. “Don’t worry, I can smell how fertile you are. There is no way I won’t get you pregnant tonight. And if after that you still want to leave… Then I might just have to lock you up in this room, but one thing I’ll make sure of is that you’ll keep on giving me kids, one after the other.”
All we could hear around the room were the filthy wet sounds of my cock driving into her dripping pussy, and the grunts I couldn’t hold in anymore. Yes, I was close to bursting and perhaps there truly was something evil in me, because it was the way she struggled against me and the look of panic in her beautiful face that made me finally tip over the edge I’d been dying to ride ever since we met.
White light took over my sight as I slowed my movements, making sure she received every single drop of cum my cock was desperate to give her. When I opened my eyes again, it was to notice that she had at last given up on her pointless fight, and there were tears soaking the hand I was still covering her mouth with.
“Now, now, darling…” I cooed, slowly taking off my palm and using it to clean her face of the wet tracks on her cheeks. “There’s no reason to be sad. This is such a joyous occasion, the conception of our first child.” My words brought a new wave of tears to her eyes, prompting me to scoop her up and cradle her in my chest. “And you know what?” I whispered in her ear, keeping her tightly pressed up against me when she struggled to push me away. “I promise I’ll give you this same amount of pleasure every night. For the rest of our lives.”
You can read the follow-up I wrote for this fic here!
#loki x reader#loki smut#loki imagine#loki fanfiction#loki insert#loki insert fanfiction#loki x you#loki writing#my fics#smut#loki
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11- “Excuse you, I can be as dramatic and ridiculous as I want, outside of work hours. You can’t stop me.”
It started out with you being a part of his touring team, you were his PA’s assistant and would organise all the things he needed in his dressing room, ensuring it was ready for him. Then his PA got pregnant and he needed someone to fill temporarily, that’s where you came in... “It’s only for three months tops till he can agree to someone else, the dude has interviewed six people in three days and didn’t like any of them!” So you said yes. But three months turned into six and six turned into a year and soon enough he was no longer hiring anyone else, his PA wasn’t coming back and he had, of his own accord, decided that he wouldn’t be looking for someone new to fill the position as you would be staying in it. You weren’t complaining though. You had grown close to Harry over the last 12 months, tending to his every need between the house of 9am and 5pm, and then enjoying his company after hours too.
He had grown to feel some type of way about you somewhere there in the first few months. He enjoyed spending time with you, he knew that much, but he was also well aware of the fact that he was a public figure and you were just a normal Californian girl, he didn’t want to throw your life into a loop. What he didn’t know was that you had grown to feel some type of way about him too. Neither of you knew how the other felt, he had convinced himself that you were into the coffee guy who would flirt with you each morning, and you had convinced yourself that he was into his new costar. So the two of you continued to suppress your feelings.
Gemma came to the set to visit, she was in town and staying with Harry which meant you didn’t have to go and hang out with him at night, even though it was a break and allowed you to catch up on some personal business, you did miss him.
She knew how Harry felt about you, in fact between the hours of 5pm and 9am he wouldn’t shut up about you, her only time of quiet would be when he eventually fell asleep. “Gemma, she’s so beautiful... Gemma, one day I will ask her out.... Gemma do you think she’s dating the coffee guy?.... Gemma do you think she likes me back?” Gemma had enough.
She asked you if you wanted to grab lunch whilst Harry was busy doing hair and makeup one day. It wasn’t out of the ordinary as the three of you would usually eat lunch together. She asks about your love life, you laugh in reply. “what love life, I spend my days looking after Harry and I spend my nights either sleeping or hanging out with Harry or doing both of those things at the same time. I don’t have time for a love life” Gemma nods and you continue to ramble until she cuts you off “maybe you and Harry should date” you laugh at first not really knowing how to reply... was she being serious? Or was it just sarcasm? “I don’t know why you think that’s so funny, you spend enough time together and you already bicker like a married couple” Gemma roles her eyes.
Gemma what are you talking about... I’m pretty sure Harry is dating Cecily or whatever her name is...” “what makes you think that!?” “dunno that’s just what the tabloids and the twitter are saying” again she rolls her eyes. “Y/n, has he spent any night in the last twelve months, apart from nights where I’m with him, away from you?” Come to think of it he hadn’t. After work he would either be at yours or you would be at his. You shake your head to reply no. “In the last twelve months has he had ANY dates?” Again you knew that he hadn’t, you were in charge of his calendar and truthfully the boy couldn’t make a reservation even if he wanted to. Gemma decided that the hints she was giving you were falling on deaf ears, much like the hints she had been dropping for Harry.
Somehow however, she had convinced both you and Harry to go on a blind date the following week, neither of you knowing the other was going to be there. Harry was planning on bailing on the date, not wanting to leave you on your own but somehow you had found the courage to text him on Saturday morning.
Y/n: hey sorry this is short notice, but I’m not feeling well and I don’t want to give you anything ahead of your performance next weekend, let’s make tacos another night!!
Harry: I can come and look after you! I’ll bring the tacos to you, you won’t have to do anything except for rest. Screw the tacos, I’ll make you some chicken soup....
This made you nervous, how would you turn him and his chicken soup down without a) telling him you were going on a date and b) hurting his feelings.
Y/n: Harry, I promise I’m okay... nothing a bit of sleep won’t fix... I’ll see you tomorrow if I’m feeling better!
Harry: okay :( but message me if you change your mind or you start to feel worse. I’m only a text away :)
Y/n: thank you Harry ❤️
Harry had gotten ready, driven to the ice skating rink where Gemma had told him to meet his date and parked in the car park. He had half a mind to turn around bail on this date and go and check on you. But he knew how much you hated too much attention and he didn’t want to push passed boundaries that you had set. So he got out of his car and made his way inside. You were already there, and as he walked up the stairs your eyes locked with each other. At first he was upset that you had lied and you were embarrassed to have been caught, but the two of you engage in conversation anyway.
“Feeling better I see?” He lifts his eyebrow at you. “I’m sorry I lied to you, I just didn’t know how to tell you that Gemma set me up on this blind date and I don’t even know if this is a thing and I —” halfway through your rambling you stop to see him smiling. “What are you smiling at, styles?” He’s realised his sisters plan as soon as the words fell out of your mouth. You’re yet to pick up on it. Just as his shout to reply to you, both of your phones buzz. It’s Gemma messaging in the group chat the three of you had.
Gemma: have the two of you suckers figured it out yet? You both like each other, you’re both single, she’s not dating the coffee guy and he doesn’t have the hots for Cecily... Enjoy your date! 😝😝
You’re cheeks are glowing red at this point. She’s exposed you, but at the same time she’s exposed him too. “Cmon then” he says as he reaches for your hand and the two of you walk into the rink. He pays, because well he’s a real gentlemen and even though he loves your feminist side, he refuses to let you spend a cent, after all... it is a date.
After five minutes on the ice rink, and Harry falling for the sixth time, you start to panic, even though he tried to play it off, skating was not his forte “Maybe we should just go home, you’re not very good at this and I don’t need to be ringing your manager tomorrow to tell them you’ve broken your leg and can’t perform next week” he giggles at your worrying expression and the way your whole forehead was creased during that entire sentence. “Calm down love, I think you’re being a but dramatic.. I’m not going to break my leg” you pout your lips and fold your arms “Excuse you, I can be as dramatic and ridiculous as I want, outside of work hours. You can’t stop me.” He giggles at you.. “You’re right, I’m not paying you to be here am I..... did my sister pay you? Is this a prank?” It’s you’re turn to laugh. You shake your head and the small but of panic that he felt is over “You’re sister was right, I do like you” your eyes focus on your feet, not daring to make eye contact with him. “yeah she was right, I have a thing for ya too...”
The night continued on, you two had a fabulous time. You continued to spend each night with Harry after that, just as you had been. Except now there were no doubts. You were dating each other, not the coffee guy and not the good looking costar. It was the beginning of something both of you had only ever dreamed of. Gemma never let either of you forget that she was the one who set you up, you were both thankful for her scheming and never let her forget how grateful either of you were.
#Harry Styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry x y/n#Harry x reader#harry styles tpwk#tpwk#hs2#harry styles imagine#Harry styles imagines
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Hi, I hope I'm not bothering you, but before anything, I hope you have a great day and take care of yourself 🌟
Some heacanons for Undertaker, Snake and Sebastian with a fem S/O who's basically a Kitsune? Just like Sebastian, she has a human form and a "demon" form, and her Kitsune form has the usual bigass 9, super fluffy tails and cute ears.
She's usually very teasing, loves to mess around, to trick and play funny, harmless pranks on anyone.
( Like, maybe she trips someone with one of her tails, temporarily transforms in other people, or transforms one object into another for a brief moment aka plays around with illusions and stuff )
I know it's a rather weird request, and you really don't have to do it if it's too weird, haha, but I really think messing around with Sebastian or the servants like that would ultimately be super hilarious~~
Or maybe she can even mess with Ciel's enemies who come dine with him 😂🦊
hihi, you’re never bothering me, I promise!! <3
and this is definitely not the weirdest request I’ve ever gotten, not that I really think any requests are weird! they’re all just different and I treasure each and every one even if it’s not something I write often
and I really liked doing this! my favorite is Snake’s because I’m a sap XD
SEBASTIAN
Oh… dear… she’s too adorable. If there was any doubt about it, a partner who shares physical traits with a cat is his biggest weakness. The ears? The tails? All that fluffy cuteness? He’s… he’s pretty well done for. There are some occasions where it’s to the point that if she wants something and just purrs, that’s all it takes for him to give in.
That said, Sebastian is definitely someone who can appreciate her playful nature… as long as it doesn’t happen to be causing problems for him. (Name) typically has to keep her distance from the estate because of Ciel’s allergy, but when she is around, it’s free entertainment for Sebastian. Provided she doesn’t mess with the servants so much that it makes a huge mess for him to have to clean up, he enjoys watching her play her tricks. Heaven help her if she does screw things up for him at all; even his precious S/O has no immunity from his disappointed glares.
Actually, he finds it most hilarious whenever she fucks with Ciel in any way. And she can do that with her presence alone, or by simply ‘accidentally’ hitting him in the face with her tails, or by switching her body with his so that the poor earl is literally allergic to himself. Much as Sebastian does his best to publicly cover up such sadistic proclivities, he can’t deny that he finds Ciel’s suffering very, very amusing.
Whenever she’s resting, he likes to pet her. He runs a hand over her tails or scratches behind her ears ― and will happily do so for hours if he isn’t stopped. More than once Ciel has found the two of them asleep in a chair by the fireplace… when Sebastian was supposed to be running Ciel’s bath. Although he will never hear the end of such things, Sebastian thinks it’s worth any lecture or punishment Ciel will give him.
(Name) is allowed to pull one, single, solitary prank on Sebastian every year. It’s often her most thought-out and elaborate one, as opposed to her simple ones on everyone else through the rest of the year. Usually, when this trick finally comes to fruition, everyone else is standing there with their eyes wide and mouths gaping, silently asking each other, Has she just done that? Of course, Sebastian always just laughs. Everyone has concluded that (Name) is not to be fucked with, because fucking with anyone to whom Sebastian is devoted on that level will not end well.
SNAKE
She… reminds him a little bit of Joker or Dagger. Someone who’s lighthearted and always smiling or doing funny things is a blessing to Snake, even if sometimes he might be shy about the whole situation. (Name) is a very different person from him, so it’s an adjustment. They’re living proof that opposites attract, though… he does care about her a great deal.
With some pranks, like if she trips someone with her tails, he gets a little worried! He just can’t help it; he knows small things that seem harmless can sometimes backfire. Though, when he sees that she knows who’s used to her tricks, who can take the hit, and she doesn’t do anything dangerous, he relaxes a little. If she ever trips him, ah ― the snakes will do their best to catch him, but he’s probably going to be awfully red-faced for a short while. Damn, he knows what she’s like and he literally fell for it!
Although it starts out as a prank, when (Name) switches their bodies for a short time, it’s more intimate than anything. Despite the fact that he is incredibly disoriented by suddenly being in a female body, let alone his S/O’s body, he gets to see her in his body. More than that, he gets to see himself through her eyes. It’s different than looking in a mirror; he doesn’t see his flaws as flaws anymore. Is his hair really that endearing even when it’s always a bit messy? Do his scales actually shimmer with a gentle, silvery iridescence, making him look beautiful and otherworldly, instead of like an ugly freak? Is his smile really that… nice? It started out as a prank, and he’s surely distressed until he’s back in his own skin… and yet… in her quest for amusement, (Name) has helped her lover see himself in a different light.
Sigh… oh, she most certainly uses his snakes to prank people. Why? Because they see her as someone safe who adores them, so they don’t usually fight her if she picks them up. Thankfully, she knows to avoid using any of the snakes who are venomous, just in case they happen to bite if startled. She owns up to it being her idea, but if a bunch of snakes suddenly spring out of the pantry one more blessed time, Bard’s going to ban them all from the kitchen!!
Snake really, really likes to feel her fur. The skin of reptiles is so much unlike that of her fur, the texture he gets when his fingers rest on top of her ears is… wow. Honestly, he could sleep very soundly ― and in fact has ― cuddled into her, with his cheek nuzzled against her fluffy tails.
UNDERTAKER
Hee-hee… he’s definitely got a special little lady on his hands! If there’s anyone who enjoys a good prank, it’s him. He loves watching her carry out these schemes of hers, even if they don’t require too much planning. After all, a cheap laugh is as good as any other. It’s also a joy to him that he found a woman who has such a prominent sense of humor. This kind of S/O is all he’s ever really wanted in life!
Well… when he’s still in work as a mortician, he encourages her to play tricks on his customers. It’s nothing too involved, the same kinds of things he does himself ― popping out of a coffin, offering them biscuits from an (unused!!) urn… turning herself invisible before brushing up against them with her tail. It’s especially funny when members of the Phantomhive household come to visit and she can play pranks on them.
To that note, it is of incredible amusement to him when she plays her pranks on the Undertaker himself! He has exactly no problems with being a victim of her tripping him or switching out his ink for honey, and in fact is one of the few people who can openly laugh at himself without any embarrassment no matter what kind of prank’s been pulled on him. He just giggles at whatever it was, grinning brightly at her as if she’s just made his entire day. However… (Name) should probably be prepared for him to get back at her with a joke of his own in the same vein as whatever she did. If allowed, it has the potential to escalate into an all-out prank war, so… she should just be a bit careful.
If she’s up for it, occasionally he will walk her on a leash through London’s streets to shock the populace. Not only is that image brazen and sensational enough to likely induce some ladies to faint, he’s parading a supernatural creature through the streets. Most people will think it’s some kind of costume, but he just gets a kick out of causing a scandal like that. He thinks it’s the funniest thing ever… the papers will be talking about it for weeks!
Genuinely believes she’s one of the best things in his life. She’s added many more laughs to his daily goings-on, and not to mention she’s an absolute treat to cuddle with at night. He doesn’t require as much sleep as she does, so he can stay awake long after she’s drifted off, just… looking at her. Much as he doesn’t feel the need to treat her like glass, he’s still soft for her in a way he isn’t for many people.
#Black Butler#Kuroshitsuji#Sebastian#Snake#Undertaker#headcanons#romantic#fluff#slice of life#domestic#I LOVE THEM ALL YOUR HONOR#queued
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Hi! Could I request the V3 boys reactions to their s/o becoming the blackened because they were trying to save them.
Yesssss more angst! These were fun to write!
TWs: Blood, Death, Suicide Mentions, and Major DRV3 Spoilers
..............
Ryoma
No..it couldn’t be true..could it?
Ryoma couldn’t believe you’d actually kill someone, though your reason came as a shock: It was to save his life.
Kirumi was plotting to murder him after the second motive came out. And she obviously panicked when you showed up instead of him, so she tried attacking you.
But you retaliated, leaving her body in the bathroom and altering the crime scene to make it look like she slipped while cleaning it.
You didn’t want to kill anyone, but you were terrified she might target him some other time if you didn’t stop her.
Yet Ryoma vehemently denied you did anything, arguing with Shuichi up until he pointed out incriminating evidence.
He was crushed, knowing he’s going to lose another loved one.
He can’t understand why a criminal like him was worth saving.
But the deed was done. And as your final wish before being executed, you plead for him to survive and see that life’s worth it.
While he’s never been good with promises, he’ll try to keep this last one...for your sake.
Shuichi
He learned the truth earlier than anyone else.
Someone knew he was too smart, always leading the trials and making the swift deductions.
So they believed eliminating him would guarantee them escape from the academy, as everyone would arrive to wrong conclusions without him.
However you put a stop to their plot, accidentally killing them with their own weapon they prepared.
Shuichi didn’t want it to be you--not you, of all people--so he’s far more reluctant to accuse you of murder.
He’s pretty much mute throughout the trial, but you take notice fast and see him slipping back into that cowardly detective persona.
“Shuichi, don’t you dare go back into hiding. Don’t you dare look away from the truth again.”
“..but...”
He just absolutely refuses to. He can’t....not this time.
So instead, you reveal the truth about your crime. Every last detail--from when the motive came out to how you disposed of the evidence.
By the end of your explanation, he’s in tears--realizing you saved his life..in exchange for your own.
Every night since then, he cries as he hugs the Helping Yacchi plush you gave him the day before the body was discovered.
It hurt so much to condemn you, someone he truly loved.
Kokichi
You learned very quickly that Miu was plotting to kill Kokichi, after noticing her put a bottle of poison in his seat before returning to hers and logging in.
That made you livid. But more scared than anything else.
So you formulated a plan after learning everything (or almost everything) about the virtual world.
You overheard Miu and Kokichi planning to meet on the mansion rooftop, and you didn’t like that idea one bit.
Little did you know, he and Gonta were conspiring to murder her, too, but you beat them to the punch.
Obviously he was pissed someone foiled his plans....but imagine his shock when it turned out to be you.
The two were suspects for a long time as they explained the “Killing Game Busters” scheme.
But since Miu died by your hands--their names were cleared.
Kokichi was in frustrated tears, yelling at you for not telling him sooner.
But he ultimately breaks down when your punishment was announced.
He clings to you, crying and begging you not to leave him--he even pleads with Monokuma to let him die with you.
This time it’s not an act.
He feels genuine sorrow and heartache for a long time after the trial.
Gonta
It’d be impossible to think anyone would try to kill him.
But someone tried taking advantage of his gullibility. And you happened to be there at the exact same time, attacking the assailant while your entomologist boyfriend ran off in fear.
You cleaned as much evidence as you could before finding and consoling him, lying that you just talked to them.
He believes you and is relieved---until the body discovery announcement plays later on.
Even though you lied, he doesn’t blame you. Not even during the trial where you made up an alibi.
But when Gonta himself is questioned...he clams up, knowing exactly what happened and being too scared to say the truth.
He doesn’t want to condemn you! Gentlemen don’t-
You reassure him it’s okay. Shuichi has you in a corner and there’s no point in letting the trial drag on.
So he eventually admits what he saw, and he can only cry as he votes you as the Blackened.
You two share one last hug, and he says he’ll never ever call you a killer, thanking you for protecting him even if he failed to protect you.
Korekiyo
It doesn’t come as a surprise that someone would try murdering him. He could see the hatred in their eyes whenever he looked at them.
His menacing appearance seems to be more than enough of a reason to target him.
However, after finding their body and signs of a struggle surrounding the crime scene, he arrives to the conclusion that the culprit knew he was in danger and killed to protect him.
Ah...how beautiful that realization was.
Or so he thought.
When it’s revealed you carried out that deed, using his golden sword to swiftly kill the victim, his heart is completely shattered.
‘No..no, no, no, no, no!!’
He feels anger, sorrow, confusion, and..so many other unpleasant things at once as you confess to the crime.
Not even Sister calms him down. He becomes belligerent, trying to steer everyone away from the truth and claim he killed the victim in self-defense.
You have to step off your podium to console him, as he was screaming his head off and scaring everyone.
When the trial is over, he just holds you close, begging Monokuma not to take you--his one true love--away from him.
But alas, it’s all for nothing as you’re sentenced to your execution.
Though you remind Korekiyo of what he’s taught you about death, as you didn’t fear it, and you promise you’ll watch over him in the afterlife.
Kaito
He’s incredibly outraged when everyone suspects you as the culprit in spite of the evidence that piles up.
“Shuichi, you're not actually gonna believe their crap, right?! Stop screwing around--!”
“He’s not, Kaito. It's the truth."
Stunned, he looks at you. Since your podium was conveniently next to his, he didn’t have to look far to see the guilt in your eyes.
Learning your motivation, however, is what ultimately crushed him.
You killed...to protect him?
No..
That couldn’t be right! He was suppose to protect you! Didn’t he always tell you how killing was wrong and-?!
But the truth was you did try talking some sense into the victim...but they attacked you instead, and you retaliated in self-defense. So it was purely accidental.
Kaito is pissed when Monokuma jests that “murder is murder” no matter what and he actually tries fighting the Exisals.
You insist he doesn’t interfere, and plead for him to use that strength to help protect everyone else instead.
His spirit is broken for a while, but...he’ll recover and keep fighting on. For your sake.
K1B0
Something in you snapped when you overheard Kokichi taunt your robot boyfriend for the last time, actually hurting him physically as well as emotionally.
K1B0 went to you in tears, not understanding why he hated him so much.
After comforting him, you’ve finally had enough. You were sick of him being harassed nonstop.
So you sent him to see Miu while you met with Kokichi to “talk”.
While the Ultimate Supreme Leader seemed suspicious, he let his guard down...sealing his fate as you strangled him with his own scarf.
Then you inflicted numerous wounds on his corpse to disguise the true cause of death.
But when the truth was revealed, K1B0 was in total shock at your motive.
He couldn’t believe you’d do something so barbaric.
Even if Kokichi bullied him relentlessly, there’s no reason you had to go as far as murder him!
However he understands anger can be a powerful emotion--one that throws any and all sense of logic out the window.
Still..it hurt to watch you get executed. He went into shutdown for the rest of the day/night.
And here he was, thinking you two had finally torn down the wall of “forbidden love” between human and robot for good.
Rantaro
You managed to kill Tsumugi before she had a chance to murder Rantaro and Kaede’s final part of her plan went into motion.
The shot put ball’s sudden appearance startled him into forgetting about the hidden room and running out of the library..
And up the stairs as the obnoxious music stops and one of the girls yelled for everyone to come into the bathroom--where Tsumugi’s body was.
At that point, the game should’ve ended since you actually killed the mastermind.
But of course, Team Danganronpa had backup plans and thus the game kept going.
You had rearranged the crime scene to make it look like a suicide, leading everyone to assume the time limit’s pressures are what killed the cosplayer.
But eventually your crime was unraveled and Rantaro was utterly devastated.
You’re the first Blackened in yet another killing game he was forced to participate in.
You only killed Tsumugi because you found it suspicious she suddenly ran off on her own near the time limit’s end.
In doing so you unknowingly saved Rantaro’s life in exchange for your own.
He was upset you did something so rash when he clearly told everyone not to, but...at the same time he’s grateful to be alive because of you.
He swears your death won’t be in vain. He’s gonna escape this game with everyone else.
#clanas#anonymous#danganronpa x reader#drv3#ryoma hoshi#ryoma hoshi x reader#shuichi saihara#shuichi saihara x reader#kokichi ouma#kokichi ouma x reader#gonta gokuhara#gonta gokuhara x reader#kaito momota#kaito momota x reader#korekiyo shinguji#korekiyo shinguji x reader#k1b0#k1b0 x reader#rantaro amami#rantaro amami x reader#tw blood#tw death#tw suicide mention#danganronpa spoilers#headcanons
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Propmt: Century has passed and the team reunites with Booker... I need some angst and more fics about Booker.
Booker knows there’s someone in his apartment the second he opens the door. There are no obvious signs, no evidence to point to someone having broken in despite the fact that Booker had the only key, but Booker knew. He knew it in his gut, in the way his skin hummed at the other man’s presence. You couldn’t spend hundreds of years in someone’s pocket without gaining some intrinsic awareness of them. So Booker knew there was someone there and he knew who it was before he even got the door closed.
He dropped his keys on the table and put his bags down, kicked off his shoes and hung up his coat and scarf. When he got to the kitchen the other man was exactly where he expected him to be, in the most comfortable chair, drinking Booker’s very expensive coffee.
“Joe,” Booker greeted.
“Booker.”
It had been ten years since they last saw each other, ten years since the situation with Quynh was resolved, ten years since Joe looked him in the eye and said, “Ninety-nine more.”
“You’re early.” Booker fussed with the coffee maker as he made himself a cup. If he was staring at the coffee maker he didn’t have to look at Joe.
“So I am,” Joe remarked idly. He sounded like a stranger. Booker had had decades to familiarize himself with Joe’s behavior and he thought he’d known him as well as anyone other than Nicky could know the man but the person sitting at his table was an unknown.
Joe was silent until Booker sat down. “I have questions.”
Booker exhaled roughly and nodded. “Ask them.” He braced himself for an outburst.
It didn’t come. Joe sipped his coffee calmly and stared him down across the table. “Why did you not say anything?” Booker cocked his head in confusion, caught off guard by the question. “You made a deal with Copley, with Merrick, to turn us over to science. Why didn’t you tell us? Why the scheming and theatrics?”
Booker rubbed at his forehead, his eyes searching the counter tops for the alcohol he’d left there this morning. But the counter was bare and Joe was waiting for an answer. He sipped his coffee. “I didn’t know what the three of you would say,” he confessed. It was a terrible answer, he knew, but it was the truth.
“Something you could have found out by talking to us,” Joe pointed out. “Instead you sold us out, set up and ambush, arranged for Nicky and I to be kidnapped, and for Andy and yourself to be locked up with us.” He tilted his head slightly, like he was trying to view Booker in a different light to see if it revealed any more answers. “Why go to all that trouble if you were planning to reveal yourself as the traitor anyway?”
Booker laughed harshly. “I’m a coward, Joe. I was a coward in my first life and I’ve been a coward in every life since. I wanted to die, I want to die, and that was the first real shot I thought I could have and I didn’t want to bring it to you and have you shut me down.”
Joe shrugged. “You could have gone yourself, handed yourself over to Merrick and his scientists. You didn’t need us. If you wanted to be a lab rat so bad, they would have taken you.”
Booker stared at the table. “They wanted all of us.”
“Only because you told them about us.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Copley already knew?” Booker shrugged. “He got Merrick on board by mentioning a team of unkillable soldiers so Merrick wanted all of us.”
“So it was Copley, not you.” It wasn’t a question and Booker hated Joe for it. He wanted Booker to cast the blame on someone else, to prove that he was still a coward.
“I told Copley,” Booker admitted quietly. “He found me and I told him it was all of us.”
Joe hummed and took a long sip of his coffee. It was apparently the last of it because he stood up and started making another. “Why did you work with Copley in the first place?”
“I told you. I wanted to die.”
“But how could help you? Merrick’s involvement, I understand. He had the resources to perform the science necessary to maybe find answers. But Copley doesn’t. So why Copley?” He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, as his coffee brewed. Booker ached to fidget under his careful but held himself still.
“He came to me,” Booker told him. “Said he wanted to help people and he thought I could help him do it.” He paused to take a sip of his coffee. It had cooled a little, no longer hot enough to burn his mouth, and he briefly considered heating it up again. “That’s what we do right? Try to help people?”
Joe made a considering noise as he sat back down with his full cup. “So Copley reaches out to you, tells you he wants your help helping people, and you sign on without a word to any of us. Then he teams up with a man with too much money and too many scientists and tells you that he could try to find the secret to our immortality and therefore a way to rid us of it and you don’t say a word to any of us. You take this information and you agree to do it but they won’t take you alone so you arrange for us to walk into a trap that Copley records for proof of our gifts, you sell out the location of our safe house and permit them to attack us and kidnap me and Nicky, and you walk Andy straight into the hands of Merrick. All without talking to us.” Joe pauses, giving Booker a chance to contradict him but there was nothing to argue so Booker stayed quiet. “All because you wanted to die.”
“Yes.” Joe shook his head, a breath of a scoff on his lips, and Booker started to get angry. “I made a mistake!” He yelled. “I screwed up. I know this, Joe, I know I did, alright? And I can’t fix it, it’s done and in the past. Now, you had questions so I answered them. I’m sorry they weren’t the answers you were looking for but they’re the only ones I have.”
Joe watched him evenly as he spoke, not reacting in any way. Booker wanted to rage against it, wanted to scream and lash out until Joe responded in kind, but the longer they sat there the more he felt himself calming. When his breaths were even again, when his heart rate had settled, Joe stood up, drained his coffee and placed the cup in the sink. He rinsed it out and set it aside to dry, failing to actually clean it like he always did. Booker almost smiled at the familiarity. But when Nicky failed to appear beside him to wash the cup for him with a huff of annoyed fondness, his heart fell.
Lost in his thoughts, he missed Joe crossing the room. Two hands grabbed the sides of his face and tilted him up to meet Joe’s eyes. “We are not made to be alone,” he said softly but firmly. “You especially.” Booker’s eyes burned. Joe pressed his forehead to Booker’s for a brief moment before pulling back to press a quick kiss to his hairline and stepping back. “We are at the monastery.”
The monastery was Nicky’s favorite safe house, half an hour outside of Genoa. Booker had never asked if it had once been Nicky’s home, before he went to war, but he thought it might be. Even if it wasn’t, it was the closest thing any of them had left of their homes before.
“It hasn’t been 100 years.”
“No,” Joe laughed. “It hasn’t.” He slipped on his jacket and wrapped a handmade scarf around his neck. Booker had never seen the scarf before but he recognized the craftsmanship easily; Andy had never really gotten the hang of knitting not matter how hard she tried. “But you are missed. So it’s time to come home.”
Booker lost the battle against his tears and felt them spill over onto his cheeks. Joe waited a moment to let him wipe them away then came back over. He said nothing until Booker looked up and met his eyes.
“If you ever betray us again, if Nicky ever spends a single second under someone’s knife or in chains because of you, I will make you wish for Quynh’s fate.” Joe spoke slowly and calmly, but there was a fire and a steel in his eyes that told Booker he was serious. More than that, if it ever came to it, Joe wouldn’t hesitate, not for a second.
“Understood.”
“Good.” Joe nodded once. “Take your time. We are not planning to leave any time soon.”
Booker didn’t manage to say anything else before Joe was gone.
---
Booker took three days to gather his things and shutter his life in Paris before heading to Genoa.
He hadn’t had a home in a long time but the familiar steps from the airport to the gates of the rundown monastery settled an inch inside him that he’d grown accustomed to over the last decade. If he had a place to call home in this day and age, it was here, with the people that were inside.
Booker hesitated outside the door. He knew Joe had been the primary factor in his hundred year sentence, knew that Nile had forgiven him that day, knew that Nicky couldn’t stay mad for long, knew that Andy was more forgiving in her mortality, knew that Quynh probably didn’t care one way or another, and yet he hesitated.
He sucked in a shuddering breath and let out a steady exhale, letting his anxiety leave him, his shoulders and back releasing their tension, and opened the door. The steps from the entrance to the rooms they’d converted for their own use was familiar, the walkway worn under his feet.
Halfway there he started to hear voices. First, it was Nile’s laugh, crisp and ringing through the air. It was followed by shouts in three different languages and then more laughter. Booker followed the sound like he was being summoned, his feet no longer fully under his control.
The door was open but he stopped just outside and looked in. Nicky was the only one facing him and he caught sight of him immediately. There was a brief look of surprise before a genuine smile pulled at his lips. He nodded to Booker in greeting. Joe was sitting next to him, arguing something with Nile, and Nicky took his hand and pressed a kiss to his knuckles without interrupting the conversation. A moment later, Andy stopped talking to Quynh mid-word and stood, spinning to face the door, her hand on her gun. She froze and lowered the gun. “Book?”
The other conversations ceased immediately, the sudden silence ringing in the air.
“Joe said you were here,” Booker explained. Andy and Nile turned on Joe, disbelief on their faces. Joe shrugged but didn’t offer any explanation. Nicky hadn’t yet let of his hand and squeezed it gently. “I can g-”
“No,” Andy cut him off. “You’re here. Stay.” She started towards him and Booker met her in the middle, their arms going around each other for a hug. “Welcome home, Booker.”
#so this is...not what you asked for...sorry#the old guard#tog fic#booker#sebastien le livre#joe#yusuf al kaysani#idk how to tag them lol#my fic#Anonymous
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ONE SHOT: A Simple Crush
♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡
Summary: You’re a costume designer for Pro Heroes, pretty well known in the industry. You take on a new Pro Hero as a client, doing your best to make sure all of your costumes are up to hero level. You start to think that you’re doing something wrong with your designs when Red Riot, the new Pro Hero, keeps coming back with a damaged costume only to find out, it was his excuse to see you.
♡ Word Count: 2.8k
♡ Content: Fluff
♡ Kirishima x Female Reader
A/N: this was so much fun to write. It’s a little different than some of my other work, being similar to the Hawks one shot. Tbh, if I were in the MHA world, I would be best friends with Kirishima and Kaminari just based on personality. I hope you enjoy! :)
KIRISHIMA POV:
The cool thing about being a Pro Hero is well, okay there’s a lot of cool things. Like the whole saving people, fighting bad guys, the media recognition thing. To be honest, I think all of it’s cool, but let me tell you how excited I am to have my hero costume designed by none other than Y/N. Ah man, she’s so badass at what she does and makes some seriously insane costumes. But that’s not the main reason why I asked for her to do it. I mean yes it’s going to be awesome to have a high tech costume, but I really did it to get to know her.
I saw her on TV one time, she did an interview with Hawks about his costume design and I couldn’t tell you what the interview was about because I was too busy just staring at her. That sounds super creepish but I promise I’m not trying to be creepy. You get it, right? Like you see someone on TV or something and you fall in love like, almost immediately? Yeah, that’s how I would explain what happened. I have a crush and thank god I’m a Pro Hero now so I have a reason to talk to her.
I stood outside the office building that was towering over the city. It was huge, her floor being on the 18th. I was fidgety in the elevator, trying to think of what I was going to say to her. God, I’m so nervous. Watch, knowing me, I’m going to say something stupid and she’s gonna think I’m an idiot.
“Hi, how can I help you?” I walked up to the front desk, letting the clerk know I was here for Y/N who was running behind due to a meeting. That’s fine, I’ve got all the time in the word to wait for her. This just gives me time to think of what I want to say.
“Hey there beautiful!” No. Too forward.
“Why hello there. Come here often?” What the fuck? She works here.
“Hi.” Oh my god, I’m going to make a complete fool of myself!!
While I waited, I decided to flip through the meaningless magazines that were placed on a side table. I’m too nervous to focus on anything but if I just sit here, people are going to think I’m a weirdo for fidgeting so much.
The elevator made its dinging noise, signaling that someone was about to walk out. My heart is pacing so fast, it feels like it’s going to burst through my chest. When you walked out, it felt as if time froze, my vision blurring out the surrounding area, leaving you clear as day in my eyes. “God, you’re so beautiful.”
“Haha, thank you sir,” you giggled. GIGGLED! My heart is literally about to jump out of my throat. “You must be Kirishima, it’s nice to meet you! I’m Y/N. If you would follow me this way, we can talk in my office.” I was actually speechless, at a loss for words as I stood there in front of you. I feel so dumb, say something you idiot!!!
“I’m sorry, about that out there,” I nervously scratched the back of my head. My cheeks felt so warm, not to mention I can feel myself sweating. Holy shit, this is weird, I’ve never felt like this before. “I’m just a big fan of yours.”
“Don’t think too much about it,” you waved your hand, a smile still spread across your face. “You’re too kind, really. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t blush a little bit.” I made YOU blush? This day just keeps getting better. “Now, Kirishima, you didn’t fill out our form and the one from UA is rather old. What were you thinking, design wise?”
“To be honest, I chose you because I feel like you’d know better than I would. I really liked the one I got from UA, that’s why I just attached it to your form.” I am so nervous, my hands are so clammy and I feel rather embarrassed I didn’t fill out your form, but honestly I’m just trying to draw out the time I spend here.
“Not a problem. I already have your measurements,” you said, tapping your temple, referring to your eyes, I’m assuming. “My quirk let’s me take measurements of every body part. I see the numbers as soon as I make eye contact with you.” Wait, did you just say EVERY body part? You began to laugh, noticing my change in mood after you explained your quirk to me. “Don’t worry. I don’t measure down there.”
“What? I mean, no! That’s not- You can if you- I mean-” Oh my god, I sound like a babbling idiot. I’m doing a really good job at keeping my crush a secret, aren’t I? You were still laughing, your laugh so infectious. You really have such a beautiful laugh, I want to hear it all the time.
“Oh Kirishima, I’m excited to work with you. I’ll give you a call once it’s ready for you.” And like that, our meeting was done. I made a complete fool of myself but you said you were excited to work with me, and that was enough for me to leave feeling confident.
You called me a couple days later, giving me the OK to come back in to try on the new costume you had designed for me. I showed up more excited about the fact I get to see you, and yeah, the costume is cool too, I guess.
You came up with such an awesome idea, the material being durable, room for the growth of my quirk. It was everything I expected and more, but honestly that doesn’t really surprise me. You’re quite amazing at your job. With this being said, with my costume being done, times I get to see you are very limited, so I have to take matters into my own hands on this one.
“Hey Y/n,” I said, walking into your office. You look so cute today with your black business suit and that slicked back pony. You look so professional and business like. I wonder what a normal day is for you. I bet everyone thinks highly of you, I mean how could they not?
“Hey Kirishima! How can I help you?” You looked up at me with those beautiful, glossy eyes of yours. I could barely make out the crosshairs in your left eye but the slight discoloration made it a little easier.
“Bad news,” I scratched the back of my head, placing the ripped costume on your desk. You jumped up, holding the torn fabric in between your fingers. You furrowed your eyebrows together, giving me a small glare that both excited and scared me.
“What did you do?”
“Ripped it?”
“Kirishima…”
“What!? You’re literally holding it in your hands. I don’t know how else to put it when the evidence is right there.” You let out a deep sigh, shaking your head.
“Alright well I guess we’ll give you the second design. This one was so good though, how did it rip?” ‘Cause I ripped it in battle on purpose so I had a reason to come and see you. Wasn’t about to say that out loud, but that’s my truth, Y/n.
You handed me the second design, warning me to be careful with this one but to be honest, I don’t care how much money I spend on these damn things. This time, I’ll wait a little longer to come back. I waited a whole two weeks instead of one so you wouldn’t pick up on my little plan here.
“Don’t tell me…” You crossed your arms, this time you were in more of a laid back outfit. Leggings and a hoodie and holy shit, do you look incredible. Not to mention your ass- “Kirishima, what on earth do you keep doing that you keep ripping your outfits?”
“The guys I’ve been going up against have all happened to have sharp like quirks?”
“Even so, I designed it so it was a lot harder to rip. I specifically designed this one so it would withstand your ultimate move so it doesn’t make sense…”
“I don’t know, I just fight ya know?” You were closer today, but you still couldn’t figure it out, even though you looked like you were deep in thought for most of our meeting. I promise you Y/N, I’ll tell you when the time is right. I just need excuses to come and see you until I have enough courage to ask you out.
“Okay well are you able to stay a little longer today? Maybe do a few test runs of these other designs?” I nodded in agreement, following you to the testing center. I would’ve stayed longer to help you with anything, even taking the garbage out. You seemed frustrated but in the grand scheme of things, I’m doing all of this until I feel like I’m ready to ask you out. I’m not really good with talking to girls, let alone asking them out. I’m just nervous, I really don’t want to screw this up with you because I’ve truly never felt like this before. You make me feel different, every time I’m around you, I get mad butterflies. That’s not normal for me.
“Alright Kirishima, go ahead and use your quirk as much as you can. I don’t want you to exhaust yourself.” I did what you said, the costume holding up to my power. I even pulled out my ultimate, the costume returning to my size when time ran out. You are truly incredible at what you do. “Good, now we’re gonna send out some testing bots. Don’t worry about breaking them, that’s what they’re for. The lasers do hurt though, so please be careful.”
“No need to worry about me,” I said, crashing my fists together. You let the robots out, immediately shooting out lasers as they had me in their vision. You were right, the lasers do hurt, but they barely made a mark on the new costume. Damn it Y/N, you’re just too good aren’t you.
The tests ran for a couple hours, and during that time I tried my best to warm up to you, or I guess have you warm up to me. I did everything I could to make you laugh, to really make you notice me other than just another hero here to get their costume made. I love your laugh, Y/N. I want to hear it all the time. Today was so special in my eyes, I think we made really good progress, but next time I don’t think I can come back due to a ripped costume. This one was perfect, you really went all out. It had to be more of a pride thing, but then again I’m just assuming.
The next time I went back, I asked for you to add a belt for small weapons like a net or something to help restrain villains. I didn’t want to upset you by damaging my costume again, I think it was actually hurting you inside to see the costume destroyed like that. I get it Y/N, you take a lot of pride in your work. The time is coming close though, I really think we’re getting to a point where it won’t be awkward if I asked you out.
“I didn’t mean for this to take this long,” you apologized as we waited for the belt to be made. I didn’t do anything this time, it was the machine’s own issues that prolonged my visit, which I’m not complaining about. “If you wanted, you can leave and come back tomorrow to get it.”
“No it’s okay,” I assured you. “I don’t mind waiting. Plus it’s getting late, I don’t want you walking out there by yourself.” You were shocked by my offer, my comment making you… Blush? No way, did I just make you blush? Without having to call you pretty? Oh my god.
“Thank you.” You were shy. I caused you to get all shy! I know this sounds so lame but this means that I’m on the right track! Or at least, that’s what the internet told me.
It took about an hour for the belt to be completed, but within that time, we talked. We actually had a conversation. I told you about my UA days, talked about my family and my friends. The whole time, you seemed so invested, asking questions, referring to earlier topics letting me know you were actually listening. And when you told me about your life, I was in awe. You were incredible, every memory you mentioned being more exciting and interesting than the last. You told me about how you haven’t dated anyone in years because you were so focused on your career. You had made it though and I knew you were upset about not having someone to love. The way you spoke, so poetic and honest. You didn’t have to tell me you were upset, it lingered in your emotion, even though you ended your statement with a smile.
“I haven’t dated anyone either,” I admitted, adding on to your subject. “To be honest, I’m not very good with talking to girls.”
“That’s not true. I mean I’ve had a wonderful time talking to you.”
“Me too, actually.” My palms were sweaty, clammy to the touch. My face was heating up, I could tell you noticed, your own cheeks becoming rosey. This was it, this was my chance. “Hey Y/N, can I tell you something?”
“Of- Of course,” you stuttered. I let out a deep exhale, squeezing my thighs as I tried to form what I wanted to say. I could tell you were just as nervous. Stop that, I’m going to choke on my own spit if you keep staring at me with those big doe eyes of yours.
“The last two time I ripped my costume? Yeah that was on purpose.” You just laughed, shaking your head in response.
“I kinda figured,” you replied. “I didn’t want to assume anything so I just didn’t bother questioning it.”
“Yeah well, I did it cause I needed some kind of excuse to come and see you.” I couldn’t make eye contact. I was both nervous and embarrassed and I really didn’t want to upset you, please understand.
“Kirishima,” you took my hand in yours, rubbing your dainty fingers across my bruised knuckles. “You could’ve just asked me out. I was excited every time you came back and not to mention our first interaction was you calling me beautiful.”
“You remember that?”
“And why wouldn’t I?” It went silent, I couldn’t pull my hand away. You were so shy, and to be honest I was nervous as hell. But I did what any courageous hero would, I leaned over and kissed you. In that moment, I kind of blacked out, nerves really taking over my entire body. I was surprised by your actions though as you leaned back into the kiss, your hand that was once holding mine found its way up to my cheek. You were so gentle, your hand and lips so soft. I couldn’t believe what was happening, it all felt so surreal. But here you were, here I was, kissing you, you kissing me back.
You pulled away, your cheeks completely flushed. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, turning away from me.
“Hey,” I whispered, turning your head back so I could reassure you. “I kissed you first because I wanted to.” You didn’t answer, you were too flustered, holding back whatever it is you wanted to say to me. So I took a shot in the dark, if you could even say it was in the dark with how you reacted to my kiss. “Y/N, can I take you out?”
“Rip another one of my costumes and I’ll beat your ass,” you joked, pointing your finger in my face. “But yes, I will.”
God, you’re so beautiful.
#kirishima x reader#kirishima imagine#kirishima x female reader#kirishima fic#my hero academia#my hero academia x reader#my hero academia fic#anime#anime fic#anime x reader#anime fluff#kirishima fluff#bnha#bnha kirishima
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How to be a Dad 101
Chapter Six - Modeling
Jasonette July Day Eight
Masterlist
When Jason was a kid, his family was too poor to take any sort of trip, which at the moment he was missing. He didn’t have any concept of how normal people travelled, but it turned out that even if you were travelling to Paris in a private jet, doing so with your entire family was a downright nightmare.
“Does everyone have all of their bags?” Bruce was calling above the din. “And passports? We need to act like a normal family, so you need to exchange your money for euros when we get there, we shouldn’t just show up with them.”
“B, you’ve already said that at least fifteen times,” Stephanie complained.
“Why exactly is she coming on a family vacation?” Damian demanded. “She’s not even dating Drake anymore.”
“Face it, Damian. Your family chose me, they were stuck with you.”
“Father, you need to choose between Brown and Drake. I cannot be expected to tolerate both for an extended period of time.”
“Oh calm down, Little D. It’ll be fun!” Dick said, slinging an arm over his youngest brother’s shoulder.
Jason sidled over to Cass and whispered, “How many weapons did Bruce say we could bring?”
She looked at him with her unreadable dark eyes. “None.”
“Okay, that’s what he said, but how many are you bringing?”
Silently she held up seven fingers.
“Damn, I have eight. Do you think I can get away with that?” They looked at each other a moment. “You’re right, B definitely has more than that.”
“If you all don’t get yourselves and your belongings on the plane within the next five minutes you’re finding your own way to Paris!” Selina called over the noise.
“Move it, suckers!” Babs yelled, running at least three people’s feet over with her wheelchair in her haste. Despite the pain she caused, once she got to the plane, she was able to expertly maneuver herself onto it, letting Dick struggle aboard with both of their luggage. Jason kept himself as far away from the eldest Wayne child as possible. Every time Dick looked at Jason, he could see the apology in his brother’s eyes, which only served to piss him off all over again. Maybe he was being irrational, and maybe he was just on edge because they were heading to Paris, but Jason couldn’t really find it in himself to care.
He slept fitfully on the flight, doing his best to ignore his family, be it Dick and Babs being the disgusting newlywed couple, or just Damian being… Damian. His dreams were strange and disjointed, filled with blue eyes and whispered French.
After dealing with customs and getting checked into their hotel (which was almost exclusively inhabited by their party, because of course it was), Jason had no desire to ever go on another family trip ever again. The thought of doing all of that without skipping lines and cutting corners they were able to thanks to Bruce’s money was almost painful. But then again, people with less money also didn’t have to deal with Damian and Tim in the same space for an extended period of time.
Thanks to the nap he’d had on the plane and the fact that he was in Paris, Jason found he couldn’t sleep. He found himself wandering the hotel, taking in the opulent surroundings. He thought he would only see hotel staff if he were to see anyone, but on his way to the hotel’s twenty-four hour gym, he stumbled across a blonde dressed vaguely like a bumblebee who was arguing with someone on the phone.
“Listen, Dupain-Cheng, you are not taking advantage of these clients. No! You’ve been staying up at all hours of the night – don’t you dare argue with me, you’re up right now, aren’t you? And you have to take care of gremlins in the morning. No, she agreed to do it, it’s not exploiting them, it’s allowing them to pay you back for the giant favor you’re doing them! Fine, I will give her a discount, but this is not how you build a brand! Now go to sleep, the photoshoot is tomorrow. Don’t give me that, we both know you’ll finish things up with time to spare. Now go. To. Sleep.”
After a few moments the blonde hung up, and she seemed to be in a foul mood when she saw Jason. “And what do you want?”
“To get to the gym? You’re blocking the door.”
“And you were just eavesdropping. Your French isn’t bad for an American,” she said, flouncing away with a hair flip. “But your accent is horrible.”
“It can’t be as bad as your attitude,” he sneered under his breath before shoving into the exercise room.
Once inside, Jason ran himself to exhaustion, grateful when he collapsed into bed and fell asleep almost immediately. His dreamless sleep was fleeting, though, because it felt like only moments later that he was jolted awake by the sound of his phone ringing.
Glaring at the offending technology, he considered silencing it, but when he saw it was Selina, he thought better of that.
“Yes?”
“You have an hour to look awake and presentable. Meet up in the hotel lobby.”
She hung up as abruptly as she had called, leaving Jason blinking at his phone. He considered rolling over and going back to sleep, but he’d probably need the entire hour just to get his hair to Selina’s standards.
Cass was already in the lobby when Jason was finally ready, and thankfully Dick was nowhere to be seen. Sidling up next to his sister, Jason asked, “Do you know what we’re doing?” His level of concern grew exponentially when she shook her head. Everyone knew Bruce was weak for Cass, so if Cass didn’t know, that meant that the scheme was entirely Selina’s.
Unsurprisingly, Grayson the peacock was the last person to make it to the group. Babs was too annoyed with him to even make some sort of innuendo, she just complained about how long it took for him to do his hair.
“So what’s the plan, Selina?” Stephanie asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
“You’ll find out when we get there. Follow me, we have a ways to walk,” Selina said, smiling wickedly.
The family obediently trudged after Selina, grouping up as they moved. Jason saw Dick make a beeline for him, but Babs caught his arm. “Babe, will you stick with Damian to make sure that he doesn’t maim any Parisians?”
“Sure, babe,” he said, deflating a bit.
As expected, only moments later Babs rolled up next to him. “Listen here, you giant. If you’re going to make me catch up to you, the least you can do is push my wheelchair.”
“Whatever,” Jason said, doing as she asked.
“I hope you know you’re killing my husband, by the way. He’s goingi crazy because he doesn’t know what to do to apologize to you.”
“Good.”
“I know you don’t mean that, Jason, and I know that because we both know I’m the one you’re actually mad at.”
“Am I?”
“Bringing up the French girl was a low blow. You told me about that in confidence, and I threw it in your face. I’m sorry, Jason.”
“That did piss me off, I just… Babs, why did you marry Dick?”
“Is that a trick question? Because I love him, stupid.”
“But how did you know that you loved him that much? Because ever since I met my ‘French girl,’ I can’t even think about looking at someone else. It’s insane because I knew her for like a day, but I’ve never… I’ve never felt like that with anyone before, but I didn’t feel right trying to make anything more out of what we had because of how royally screwed up our lives are. How could I subject someone who is possibly a literal angel to our lives? I’ve never questioned my decision on that before, but lately I can’t stop thinking about her, and now we’re here, in Paris where she lives.”
“Wow.” Babs said. “I didn’t know… That’s a lot, Jay.”
“Thanks.”
“Give a girl some time to process, okay? Geez. I don’t know if I believe in fate and that kind of crap, but this feels eerily like destiny. Maybe you’re meant to meet her here in Paris. If you do, then don’t run away. Stick it out for at least as long as we’re here. You wouldn’t be the first of us to have a relationship with a civilian.”
“But what if—”
“Jason, bothering yourself about all of the ‘what ifs’ is only going to drive you crazy. We don’t even know if you’re going to meet her here. Let things run their course.”
He sighed. “You’re right, thanks Babs. And I’ll tell your husband that I forgive him, the sap.”
“That’s all I ask.”
After a few blocks more, Selina abruptly stopped in front of a building. It was clearly some sort of business, but the doors only said, “MDC” across them. “This is it, kids. Come on in.”
Tim could be heard freaking out about something or other, but Jason found himself hoping that whatever was happening would be quick and painless. Inside, curiously enough, the same blonde from last night was waiting for them.
“You must be the Wayne family, here for the photoshoot,” she said in flawless English. “MDC had some personal affairs to tend to, so she will be here shortly.”
“Photoshoot?” Bruce asked, looking at Selina.
“This is the shop of the designer who is making my dress,” Selina purred with a winning smile. “Ordinarily she wouldn’t have been able to fit me, you and all the kids in with how little time we gave her, but she’s releasing her first line of clothes to the general public, and her normal models are away. It’s a fairly sizeable line, and she wanted diversity, so I volunteered our beautiful family.”
“We’re going to be modeling?” Damian asked, disgusted.
“We’re going to be modeling for MDC?!” Tim asked, nearly bouncing with excitement.
“Dude, you’re a CEO. Have some shame,” Babs said, elbowing him.
“You’re already booked and committed. Once MDC gets here she’ll decide who will be wearing what, and then we’ll get started,” the blonde said. As if on cue, there was a crash in the back room, and the blonde sighed. “That will be MDC now.”
Jason was only mildly curious what this designer might be like, but it seemed that things would be at least a bit entertaining. Even before she burst from the backroom, she was spewing frantic French to the blonde.
“Chloe, I’m so sorry I’m late, Jules kept spilling things on himself on purpose, and then the babysitter was sick, so I had to find someone else, and then I missed the train and –”
Emerging from the backroom was a beautiful pixie-like girl, a girl who had starred in almost every dream Jason had had since they’d met. Jason was completely frozen at the sight of her.
Marinette. Marinette was MDC, the only designer Selina would think of wearing on her wedding day.
She stopped at seeing the mass of people in her store, but she immediately smiled sincerely, eyes flitting from person to person. In English she said, “You must be the Wayne family, thank you so much for agreeing to model for me. It really—” she cut off mid-sentence, eyes wide. “Jason? Is that really you?”
Taglist:
@jasonette-july-2k20 @ira-sairain @myazael @pawsitivelymiraculous @nik-nak-3 @dast218 @queen-of-the-trash-planet-tm @vixen-uchiha @momothefemur @toodaloo-kangaroo @marinettepotterandplagg @goddessofthewestwind
Note:
In case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t done yesterday’s prompt yet. It’s in the works, but my life is complete chaos, and it will just have to be late. Even though it was such a fun prompt, I have been having some severe writer’s block. Anyway, I’m super excited for the next few chapters, it’s happening!
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Can’t Help Falling in Love
Loki x Reader (Gender Neutral)
Summary: When Loki learns the traditions of Valentine’s Day, he asks you to be his Valentine- and reluctantly takes advice from Steve Rogers.
Warnings: none; just fluff
Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: Thank you to @squadleaderchase for the suggestion! This was so fun to write!
Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!
I recommend listening to Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley towards the end of this imagine!
There is also a female reader version of this fic, available here!
“Can’t Midgardians have a holiday that doesn’t involve such a grotesque display of… red?” Loki asks walking into the living room of the Avengers compound. Loki arrived at the compound a few weeks before Christmas and so far, he’s experienced two Earth holidays: Christmas and New Year’s. Of course, Tony had picked the theme for both parties to be elaborately red and gold- he claimed the fact that it matched his suit was merely a coincidence.
“Just wait until next month,” you reply casually, your eyes not leaving the brief you were reading while you sat cozied up in one of the large armchairs. “I think you’ll like St. Patrick’s Day much more… color scheme wise at least.”
Loki looked up curiously at the hearts of all shades of red and pink Natasha had hung up to decorate the Avengers’ living quarters. She had gone to visit Clint’s family and his kids spent hours making Valentines and decorations out of construction paper and glitter. Loki looked almost puzzled at the lopsided hearts that hung from the ceiling on transparent line so they looked like they floated mid-air.
“Perhaps I might,” he mumbled to himself, the lovesick aura of his surroundings making him slightly disgusted. “Though I suppose I find your rituals as bizarre as you’d find on Asgard.”
“Mhmm,” you mumbled in response to his thinking out loud. It was rare that the compound would be this quiet. It was a Friday evening and in the middle of a team meeting earlier today, Tony declared exhaustedly that everyone needs to start the weekend early and dismissed everyone despite Steve’s protests. You weren’t sure where everyone else went and you didn’t particularly care- enjoying the rare peace and quiet.
You didn’t mind Loki’s company. He was a little aloof but overall, you found him more to be misunderstood than anything else. He wasn’t like Thor and sure, he had a very trouble ridden past to downplay it- but he’s confided in you all it wasn’t entirely his doing. Out of everyone living at the compound, he probably had grown the closest to you, or as close as Loki would allow himself to be to someone.
“What even is this holiday?” Loki asked, pulling his attention from the decorations to where you sat, binder in your lap. You looked up and closed the brief, tossing it onto the coffee table in front of where you sat.
“Sunday is Valentine’s Day,” you say looking back over to him, meeting his eyes. “I mean overtime the traditions and how we celebrate have changed but it’s originally the day meant to honor St. Valentine and commemorate his death. There’s a lot more to it than that and there’s all different of different origins, but now it’s more like a day where you celebrate love, because he was the patron Saint of Love.”
Loki nods, liking the idea of this holiday much more than New Years already. He didn’t mind Christmas, but the elaborate parties made everything not very appealing to him. You can’t blame the god for not having a good time at parties where every guest fears him or hates him. He walks over and takes a seat on the couch and crosses his legs. He was intrigued enough to continue the conversation and ask you more questions. “What are the traditions?” He asks curiously.
“Traditionally, you would ask someone to be your Valentine, and that’s the person you want to spend the day with,” you answer with a small shrug, trying to explain a holiday you’ve never had to explain before. “Some people have it easy and they ask their significant other, and if you don’t have one, you ask someone you’re romantically interested in to be your Valentine. Then you give each other gifts, like chocolates or flowers, anything really that’s romantic and you go out on a date, like a nice dinner but it doesn’t have to be. That’s the basic gist.”
“Thank you, (y/n),” Loki said, mulling over your explanation. “You’ve been helpful, as always. Tell me, who’s your Valentine?”
“I don’t have one,” you answered honestly. The only time you really celebrated was when you had been with someone. You’d never really participated otherwise. You planned to just spend the night alone or with Nat if she also didn’t have plans and probably watch a movie- most definitely Pride and Prejudice.
“Shame,” Loki said with a tsk. “Perhaps, if you would be interested, you could be my Valentine?”
“Really?” you ask, honestly surprised.
“I actually like the idea of the day,” Loki shrugged. “And I don’t know many people, people seem to hate me on this planet- no idea as to why. You’ve always been kind to me, and you are the most tolerable person I’ve encountered on this planet.”
“That’s oddly very kind of you,” you say with a chuckle. “I appreciate the sentiments. Um, yes. I’d be happy to be your Valentine.”
“Excellent,” he grinned. He clapped his hands together and stood up. “Splendid. I’ll ask Thor to help me plan something.”
“I’m looking forward to it,” you smile, picking up your paperwork again as Loki heads off to find his brother.
***
“Brother,” Thor’s voice echoed in the training room. “Spar with me?”
“As much as I would love to,” Loki said sarcastically, “I need your help with something I need to plan.” Loki walked over to the side of the mat where Thor had been training with Captain Rogers.
“Plan what?” Captain Rogers asked curiously. It was an innocent enough question but Loki took it as Rogers insinuating his distrust in him. Of course, Loki can’t blame the man but it did rub him the wrong way.
“If you must know Captain Rogers, I’m making plans for this upcoming Valentine’s Day,” Loki said matter-of-factly. “I’m sure since you have quite the active love life recently, your words of wisdom are probably of infinite value.”
“You can learn a thing or two from me,” Steve retorted as he put the punching bag beck into place. “But I don’t like your attitude.”
“I don’t know how I’ll ever manage without you,” Loki scoffed. He turned his attention back to his brother. “I need help to determine where I should take (y/n) and what I should get for a present.”
“(y/n) agreed to this?” Thor asks, his eyebrows raised in confusion. Rogers kept his mouth shut, deciding to see where this conversation will go before
“Yes, brother. I asked (y/n) to be my Valentine as stated by tradition and they said yes.”
“Ah! Good for you, brother!” Thor exclaimed, happily. “I’m glad you’re immersing yourself in the Midgard culture.”
“Yes, yes,” Loki waved him off, “Now, please, tell me what I should do.”
“I’ve never celebrated Valentine’s Day,” Thor says with a shrug and a sympathetic look. “I haven’t had much opportunity to explore the culture. Every time I’m on this planet I’m a little busy preventing its destruction. Perhaps Rogers can help you?”
Loki let out an exasperated sigh. He avoided Rogers as he knew the man had such a smug look on his face. Loki refused to give him the satisfaction. However, he realized that wouldn’t be fair to you. Rogers not only knew what to do, but he was also close friends with you. He quickly realized if he wanted to celebrate with you properly, he’d need to rely on the infamous super soldier.
“Captain Rogers,” Loki said with a charismatic smile, turning back to the man. “I wholeheartedly apologize for my lack of… social niceties. If you’d be willing to help me, to ensure your dear friend enjoys the holiday, I would be sincerely grateful.”
“Only because of (y/n),” Rogers says skeptically, waving a finger at Loki. “They deserve to enjoy their time and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you screw up their evening.”
“What a loyal friend.”
Years later, the Avengers would still talk about the fact Loki cared about you so much, he sought out advice from Captain America and Thor. And as Captain America said, he helped Loki with every last detail and Steve never let Loki forget it.
***
Loki had told you that he’d come to your room to get you at 6 o’clock Sunday evening. He wore clothes he had picked out, black dress pants, a white button-down shirt and shiny, black dress shoes. He had kept the last button of the shirt unbuttoned and he had rolled the sleeves up, a styling tip he had gotten from Thor. He had his long hair gelled back and tamed, ignoring Captain Roger’s horrible suggestion for a haircut. He felt very weird not wearing any green, but he took the advice he was given on his ensemble.
You were just putting on your shoes when he knocked at your door Sunday promptly at 6pm. Of course, Loki would be very punctual. You gave yourself one more quick once more in the mirror in your room before heading to answer the door.
You kept your appearance simple, sticking to how you usually styled your hair. Not wanting to keep him waiting, you quickly opened the door, your jacket in hand.
“Wow,” you say with a grin, when you take in Loki’s appearance. “You look very nice.”
“You look stunning,” Loki said, his eyes widening, taking in your appearance. The compliment made you have butterflies.
“Thank you,” you said with false confidence. Underneath, you were a nervous wreck as you took the arm that he extended to you.
“So,” Loki began to walk down the hallway with you. “Apparently, this planet has something called reservations, and anyone who tries to get one a few days before Valentine’s Day is a “moron,” according to a very rude young man I had the pleasure of speaking with- the first time using a phone too on top of that. So, I hope you don’t mind if the evening is a little… makeshift.”
“I’m sure it’ll be great,” you reassure him. You feel him relax slightly. You found how hard he was trying so endearing.
Where else did he bring you but just down the hall to the living room. At night with the lights dimmed, combined with Natasha’s homemade decorations, it actually looked quite beautiful. He had decorated with an eclectic array of candles as well that covered most surfaces of the room. It also looked like he had swiped every throw pillow in the whole compound and had them arranged the coffee table in the center of the room.
“Did you do all of this?” You ask in awe.
“Yes,” he replied, just watching you. “Do you like it?”
“It’s perfect.”
“I had to make my own version of advice I received,” he disclosed to you. You sat opposite each other on either side of the coffee table, you kicked off your heels and he did the same with his shoes. “Captain Rogers said- and I’m trying my best to quote verbatim, ‘You need to show a special someone a good time if you care about ‘em . You gotta take ‘em to dinner and dancing.’” He even mimicked Steve’s voice perfectly. It made you laugh.
“I can’t believe you subjected yourself to Steve for me, I’m touched,” you smiled. “I mean I love Steve,” you continue, “But I can’t imagine you too being best friends anytime soon.”
“No, I suppose we probably won’t be,” Loki chuckles.
“I hate to point it out,” you continue, “but I think you missed both the dinner part and the dancing part of that plan.” Loki smirked and when you blinked, he transformed the whole room.
“Did I?” he asks, with an eyebrow raised. You gasp, looking around the room you were now in. You knew it was an illusion, but it felt very real. The atmosphere, the breeze coming in from the large bay windows that weren’t there before. The coffee table now a table now one of many dining tables in an incredibly high-end restaurant. The table had food, and a bottle of wine. You were stunned. There was a live band and other couples in other tables and out on the dancefloor.
“Loki?” You exclaimed, looking around at your new surroundings. It was amazing. You couldn’t believe the magic right before your eyes. Of course, you knew it was just one of his tricks, but it felt so incredibly real. You picked up your fork and took a bite of the food in front of you. It was incredible, you questioned if you were even eating.
“It’s real,” Loki said, like he could read your mind. Honestly, he had only just anticipated your next question. “I made it. Well, I made it with Friday’s supervision.”
“It’s fantastic! I can’t believe you went through all this trouble just for me.”
“Sweetheart, you are very much worth it- worth much more than this,” he responded casually, throwing in the term of endearment to see how you’d react. He caught the way it made you smile.
You continued to talk for a little while, and shared stories. You were worried that compared to his life on Asgard, he’d find your stories incredibly boring and mundane. It seemed to be the opposite. His attention was only on you and he held on to every word you said. He created this elaborate setting just to keep you the center of his attention.
“Should we dance?” He asks suddenly, a glimmer in his eye. You looked down apprehensively.
“I’m not really a dancer,” you tried to insist.
“Do you actually not want to dance, darling? Because if so, I will not bring it up again,” he says earnestly, “But, if you’re saying no because you’re afraid I’m going to judge you, I honestly can promise you I would never dream of doing so.”
You give it another moment to ponder over his words. You were taken aback at how well he seemed to know how you were thinking. You let out a sigh of defeat, and smile. “I’d love to,” you reply.
He stands up and offers you his hand. His smile is enough to make you weak at the knees. You take his hand and he leads you over to the dancefloor as the band starts playing its next song. “Does that singer sound like Elvis?” You ask, the small glitch in the illusion throwing you off for only a moment.
“I don’t know who that is,” Loki says with a laugh. He pulls you in close and rests one hand on the small of your back and the other grasps your hand close. You wrap your other arm around his shoulder. You are both pressed up incredibly close to one another. You rest your head on his chest comfortably, and you can’t see how much the action makes his whole face go red. Guiding your movements together, it mostly just swaying in place. The steps were small, and with the music playing for the two of you.
“This place is incredible,” you sigh happily looking up at him. “But I think I liked the first place a little better.”
He nodded in agreement and you got to watch a green hue encompass the walls of the restaurant as they almost melted away, and everything around the two of you just fade away. The sconces on the walls, revealed themselves to be the candles that cluttered the living room and the couples evaporated with the green mist. The table you had both sat at, turned back to the coffee table but the empty plates remained. The elaborate statues that surrounded the room turned into the furniture you knew well, and then the live band faded away to reveal Steve’s record player indeed playing a 45 of Can’t Help Falling in Love by Elvis Presley.
When the room finished revealing its true appearance to you, you laid your head back on Loki’s chest and mumbled that now it was perfect. He smiled to himself, thinking about how without a doubt in his mind, Valentine’s Day is his absolute favorite holiday on Midgard. He now couldn’t believe this reality was real. If he wasn’t holding you, he’d pinch himself. You were here, with him, in his arms, dancing in the middle of the living room on this godforsaken planet.
“(y/n)?” he whispered softly as the song was coming to an end.
“Mhmm?” You responded, your eyes closed, really just basking in the feeling of being so close to him and the smell of his cologne.
“Will be mine?” He asks carefully, remembering the phrase from Captain Roger’s advice. That phrase apparently being very important if today went well and he wanted to ask you to “go steady.” You chuckled softly, hearing Steve’s influence in the phrase.
“I would love to,” you say with a shy smile looking back up to him. He beams, incredibly happy you said yes. Swept up in his emotions, he swiftly leans down and presses his lips to yours capturing them in a passionate first kiss.
“Oh gross!” You hear someone exclaim, making you both pull away. It’s Tony- who was currently holding his side in pain as Pepper elbowed him in the side.
“You really had to do that?” she chastised him, rolling her eyes and giving an apologetic look to you and Loki before pushing Tony down the hallway to give you both your moment back, as sullied as it had become thanks to Tony.
“I never gave Rock of Ages permission to be… lovey dovey in my building! (y/n) you can do so much better than that greaseball!”
“I’m so sorry,” she said embarrassed by his outburst, ushering him out as quickly as possible.
Loki turns his head back to you, immediately after they are out of view. “Where were we, darling?” He smirks, pulling you in for another kiss.
#loki x reader#loki x you#gender neutral imagine#loki laufeyson#loki x y/n#tom hiddelston x reader#tom hiddleston x you#fluff imagine#marvel imagine#mcu imagine
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BnHA Chapter 271: My Hero Tokodemia
Previously on BnHA: Mic was all “goodbye X-Less don’t do anything I wouldn’t do” and just LEFT him with Tomura, like. ???! X-Less was all “I’m gonna sit here and do nothing and wait to die.” Ujiko was all “this has nothing to do with ANYTHING but I just want you to know that I conspired to murder your husband 15 years ago and ended up killing his best friend instead!” Tomura was all “what up bitches I’m in this chapter too” and had trippy dreams about hands and buildings and his family was there and also All for One (the dude)! Because guess what, Tomura has All For One (the quirk) now! Because AFO gave it to him! So yeah! And now he’s waking up, and Deku can apparently feel it happening because he’s a horcrux probably, and so basically everything is FINALLY GOING TO SHIT AND IT’S ABOUT TIME BUT ALSO AHHHHH.
Today on BnHA: SHIGARAKI WHO TOMURA WHAT. Back to Gunga Mountain! So Dabi is all “you do know your beloved mentor just killed a guy right?” and Toko is all “!!” and Dabi is all “SO THAT MAKES HIM THE WORST CRIMINAL OF ALL!” and, WITHOUT THE SLIGHTEST HINT OF IRONY, IMMEDIATELY follows up this bold statement by TRYING TO BURN A CHILD ALIVE. Anyway so this is why Dabi wasn’t the keynote speaker at the “murder is bad” convention though. So most of the chapter is like this, with Dabi (albeit somewhat halfheartedly) trying to set Toko on fire while Toko desperately tries to keep between him and Hawks. Eventually though, Dabi is confusingly thwarted by Otter Pops, making his triumphant return and spraying a bunch of ice just every which way because things weren’t chaotic enough I guess! And then the chapter ends with everyone’s favorite Guy They Hoped Wouldn’t Be Waking Up In This Arc, Gigantomachia, waking up!! :’) :’) :’) etc you get it.
okay so I am please to clarify that the spoilers I received were not actually all that big of a deal, and that pretty much all I know is that we’re cutting back to Dabi and Tokoyami probably, and there’s a good chance we might not even see Tomura at all this chapter in spite of last week’s cliffhanger. so even if I’d have preferred not to know that up front, it’s all good! though I will say Horikoshi has a real knack for cutting away from things right when you’re at your most invested though. reminds me of what it was like reading Lord of the Rings for the first time. “nooo I don’t want to cut back to Frodo -- WAIT WHAT’S GOING ON -- NO I DON’T WANT TO CUT BACK TO MERRY AND PIPPIN DAMMIT -- WAIT WHAT”
anyways! lol guys guess what
so then! those spoilers did indeed have the ring of truth! well this should be interesting
lmao he’s forcibly clawing his way out of Fat’s belly via aggressive use of Dark Shadow oh damn
oh man you guys. time to catalog some feels
Fatgum you do realize you were in the running for #2 hero but have now bled serious points by letting a child run back into danger and doing absolutely nothing to stop him! although to be fair you do have other children to protect, and this one child also should not have been able to do what he just did! and also Child Endangerment is U.A.’s unofficial motto and you didn’t even go to U.A. but you would fit right in though let me tell you. but anyway so the point is this isn’t really anything new, but still
HIS BODY JUST MOVED BEFORE HE COULD THINK ahhhh Toko. THIS IS YOUR MOMENT!! THE MY HERO TOKODEMIA ARC BEGINS NOW
I hope we get a followup panel of Kaminari freaking out and trying to go after his pal (but not actually succeeding though, because I swear to god Fatgum, if you fuck this up again all of my remaining goodwill is just gonna fly right out the window. and it’s a lot of goodwill too! but we don’t screw around when it comes to children’s safety!!). just would be a nice touch! ah well if they don’t show it I’ll just headcanon it
last but not least, it’s also worth noting that while I love how brave and selfless and concerned for his mentor’s wellbeing Tokoyami is here, this was still an incredibly stupid move on his part! least of all because he actually had no idea that Hawks truly was in danger. is it weird to say he lucked out? “you’re so fortunate your teacher actually was being burned alive you reckless little goose!” but like, you know what I mean though right
anyway
-- oh they are showing it!!
YAY HE IS A GOOD BOY. THAT IS ALL. CARRY ON
Toko’s shouting over his shoulder that Hawks is “probably” in trouble. for fuck’s
I mean yeah, it’s probably just some gut instinct which funnily enough happens to be absolutely right. but I’m sorry you guys, there’s just this small part of me that just can’t get over the fact that he briefly saw Hawks flying for all of .2 seconds, and saw some flames, and just IMMEDIATELY leapt to the worst-case-scenario conclusion. you know what this is? it’s the decision-making process of a kid who is actually WAY more powerful than we’ve been giving him credit for. enough so that his self-preservation instincts don’t even kick in at all because it doesn’t even occur to him how dangerous of a move this is. goddammit Tokoyami. you kids think you’re all grown up now and ffff just please be safe
and okay, I’ll give Fatgum some benefit of the doubt for just letting that happen because apparently this is literally the first and only time
seems he didn’t even think it was possible up until now. so that’s fair
OKAY YOU KNOW WHAT FATGUM YOU ARE REDEEMED
THAT’S RIGHT!! YOU DON’T JUST UP AND LEAVE THE FATAXI WHENEVER YOU FUCKING FEEL LIKE IT. FARE DODGERS WILL BE PROSECUTED TO THE FULL EXTENT OF THE LAW!!
so he’s immediately following after him, but is smart enough not to put the other kids in danger! good split-second decision-making there. certain other people in this chapter could take notes! and of course my one fear now though is that the other three children will not listen to him at all, but you know what, let’s deal with one thing at a time
hmmm
dammit Horikoshi, what...?? you really like to toe the lines of what is and isn’t problematic huh? literally if you wanted to go for a cool barbarian look all you had to do was stick with the same kind of costume scheme you had going in the second and fourth popularity polls. but no, you had to go and give him a fucking war bonnet. was that one guy back in the Hero Killer arc not enough. at least this is only a cover page, sigh
also I see that Tokoyami was asked to name his own feature chapter. I’m just happy that he’s happy
would you fucking look at this
first of all, why is Dabi suddenly twenty feet away from them. and second, would you just look at how ridiculously intact Hawks fucking is. Dabi really was microwaving him on the defrost setting only huh
so now everyone’s just looking at each other. sizin’ each other up and stuff
yeah no shit it’s bad. you rushed in thinking you could somehow handle a situation which had even the second strongest guy on the ropes. and handle it alone, no less. lord help me why are the bravest ones also always the most stupid
EEP
HIS WINGS??? also his fucking BACK jesus christ. meaning he’s completely immobile for now at best, and probably soon to be in critical condition and going into shock if he isn’t already. okay so maybe it wasn’t just the defrost setting, fuck. Hawkssss 8|
oh???????
holy shit. an opportunity to actually find out how much of a bastard Dabi actually is?? we of course know he had no problem whatsoever with kidnapping a kid back in the day. but would he go so far as to seriously fight and/or try to kill one? a kid who’s no older than your little brother?? oh gosh oh golly oh intrigue
I literally have not made up my mind on Dabi redemption one way or the other, just to be clear (he’s just been too mysterious up till now and I feel like I don’t know enough), so I am super curious to see how this plays out so I can finally form an opinion!
OH SNAP
SCORE ONE FOR “HE MAY BE AN A-HOLE, BUT HE’S NOT, AND I QUOTE, 100% A DICK”? MAYBE?? but on the other hand he’s definitely not just gonna let Hawks go either so ahhhh???
(ETA: so it seems we’ve arrived at a solid “mildly bastardish!” idk. it definitely seems to me like he’s trying not to murder this teenager for no good reason. ironically he’s in much the same position here that Hawks was less than a dozen chapters ago; facing against someone who’s just trying to protect his friend, and trying to talk him down at first, but then attacking once it’s clear that he’s not going to back off. ah well. still as morally gray as ever.)
ah I see, we’re gonna start by shattering his naive illusions!
(ETA: fucking christ, the scan is so dark I didn’t even notice Twice’s charred corpse just LYING THERE IN THE BACKGROUND the first time I read this. and now that I have noticed it, I would just like to say, sincerely, what the fuck.)
welp, there it is. finally the kids are getting properly involved in this arc, and AS EXPECTED, they are promptly being traumatized. oh Toko ;_;
Dabi this speech you’re making would feel more original if literal scores of tumblrs hadn’t spent the last two months exhaustively analyzing every single last possible angle of this debate lol. everyone has already made up their minds on the “is Hawks worth saving” controversy one way or the other but okay sure, go ahead and throw your hat into the ring too
lmao whaaaaaaat. “as a last resort, after his attempts to take him peacefully were thwarted, Hawks killed a man so as to prevent that man from killing countless others during our coup to take over the country because our boss wants to destroy everything. clearly, Hawks is the worst out of everyone else involved in this equation!” now that! is a take! lol
OH NO OH GOD
“PEW PEW PEW ENJOY THOSE FEELS” HORIKOSHI WHOOPS WHILE SHOOTING LASER GUN FINGERS AT ME, AND HEY, NOW
HEY, I SAID!!!
WHAT THE FUCK -- WHAT EVEN IS THE FUCKING SCREENPLAY FOR THIS THING?? “A BARELY-CONSCIOUS HAWKS MURMURS HIS STUDENT’S NAME WITH AN ACHINGLY WEARY LOOK OF SHAME AND REGRET! AS DABI LOOKS ON, TOKOYAMI GENTLY LIFTS HIS FALLEN MASTER AND WRAPS HIS CAPE AROUND HIS BACK, LOOKING OVERWHELMED, BUT DETERMINED. TOKOYAMI: I’M JUST... CONCERNED FOR MY TEACHER.” who the fuck wrote this shit and how much pleasure were they taking in ripping my heart out and violently slamming it against the wall
sob, and unfortunately Dabi doesn’t look particularly moved himself by any of this
DAMMIT DABI PLEASE RESPECT THEIR PRIVACY DURING THIS DIFFICULT TIME. GO AWAY AND HAVE YOUR REVENGE SOME OTHER DAY GODDAMMIT
DABI!!
Dabi I swear to god!! if you seriously try and burn my gothbird son I will...
DABI WHAT DID I JUST FUCKING SAY. LEAVE THE KID ALONE
Tokoyami... sweetie...
IF ONLY YOU COULD JUST. fly back out?? the exact same way you came??? if only that was a thing you could do??? or can he not fly while he’s carrying another person, maybe? dammit I forget
?!
wait what?? is he implying that Dabi isn’t seriously trying to kill them yet? is that what this is? I should just read on since this is clearly only the first part of something longer that he’s saying and I have to stop this bad habit of trying to analyze half a sentence before I go on and read the rest of the sentence
well whatever it is, he’s absolutely right; Dabi as it turns out is still standing there 25 feet away like a social distance champ, monologuing from afar
this panel gets more hilarious to me the longer I stare at it you guys. someone please make a comic where Hawks is all “he’s still talking...” and Toko looks to see Dabi RAMBLING ON and slowly inches further and further away while Dabi completely fails to take any notice lmao
so Tokoyami is just staring back, and then suddenly he’s all “orders from Hawks!” which I think is just him asking Hawks what to do now??
and fucking look at this lol
“just slowly inch away while he’s monologuing. I just found out he’s secretly a Todoroki so now I know his weakness: he will literally drop dead before he ever stops being dramatic”
OH MY GOD
ARE YOU TELLING ME THIS ISN’T A JOKE AND THAT’S HIS ACTUAL WEAKNESS LMAO. HAVE WE CROSSED PLANES INTO SOME KIND OF SATIRICAL REALITY. WHAT IS HAPPENING
LMAO OKAY NO HAWKS IS SAYING THAT DABI IS JUST BULLSHITTING THEM BECAUSE HE’S USED UP ALL HIS FLAMES OR SOME SHIT. LOL OKAY THEN. ALL I HEARD WAS “HE WASN’T ABLE TO FUCKING KILL ME BECAUSE HE NEVER SHUTS THE FUCK UP.” WHERE IS THE LIE
OH SNAP THERE HE GOES
he is running away in the background, right?? Dark Shadow is just a distraction? you better not be seriously trying to fight him oh god please be smart about this
okay yes good!!
bringing back some unpleasant memories of the last guy who took a tumble off this balcony, but whatever! I’m sure he’s got some kind of plan in mind here
yep okay so he’s using Dark Shadow as a bungee cord
Hawks is so fucking short he somehow looks the same size as this little bird hobbit who’s carrying him. this is just a battle of tiny, tiny people
OH MY GOD FUCKING OUCH OH GEEZ
I FELT THAT OH MY GOD
AND OF FUCKING COURSE THAT KO’D HAWKS FOR GOOD, BECAUSE HE NO LONGER HAS A FUCKING BACK, AND HE JUST TARZANED OFF A BALCONY AND TOKOYAMI LANDED RIGHT ON TOP OF HIM JESUS CHRIST. R.I.P.
TOKO IS ALL “HE MUST HAVE BLACKED OUT FROM THE IMPACT JUST NOW” AND YEAH, YOU THINK?? WOULDN’T YOU?? FUCK
OH MY GOD HE’S PICKING HIM UP AND HE’S SO FUCKING TINY OH GOD OH JESUS
STOP BEING DRAMATIC AND JUST CARRY HIM OUT OF THERE ALREADY CAN WE GET A MOVE ON PLEASE? YOU’RE DOING SO GOOD BUDDY AND I’M SO PROUD, BUT ALSO THE REST OF THE LEAGUE IS STILL OUT THERE AND NOTHING IS SAFE AND AHHHH
-- AND ALSO THIS GUY STILL!!
no doubt. no doubt whatsoever the blood that runs through those veins. the theatrics are more of a dna marker than the flame quirk could ever be
also!! ARE WE SURE HAWKS IS ACTUALLY TWENTY-THREE?? COULDN’T THE HPSC HAVE FORGED HIS BIRTH CERTIFICATE?? THIS IS A BABY PROVE ME WRONG??
anyway so since Dabi is now saying “joke’s on you, I can still use my flames whenever the fuck I want,” I’m going to take this as confirmation that he really was keeping his distance just so he could utilize forced perspective. I’m going to make a post about this as soon as I’m done reading lol
HORIKOSHI WILL YOU PLEASE STOP WITH THE ENDLESS CLOSE-UPS OF A FRIGHTENED TOKOYAMI CLINGING TO HIS UNCONSCIOUS MENTOR SCARED BUT READY TO PROTECT HIM WITH HIS LIFE I REALLY CAN’T???
DABI’S REALLY OUT HERE TRYING TO BURN THESE LITTLE BABY CHICKS ALIVE. WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR FUCKING CHILL MY DUDE
OH MY GOD
SOME KIND OF CAVALRY HAS ARRIVED AHHHH WHO
AHHH MT. LADY?!
(ETA: ngl, I’m still not sure how I feel about this sequence of panels but I did laugh good and hard though.)
-- holy shit that was ice??! oh lord don’t tell me
yeppp, looks like it’s our old buddy Dairy Queen back at it again
look... Geten?? is it?? nothing against you personally. but I have a deep-seeded and enduring dislike of everyone from the Meta Liberation Army still and that includes you pal
that being said, did you inadvertently save Tokoyami’s life, though? I originally thought those were just ~anime shockwaves~ from some off-screen attack, but if that was all actually ice, it looks like you might have cut Dabi off. which I approve of! but also that’s some serious friendly fire you tomfool
so he’s yelling that he’s disrupted the heroes’ siege, which it looks like he has! very sloppily, but still
and also, way to have both of your fire users currently 80km away, hero team! you knew Geten was here, no?? who even planned this
now this Bleach-looking dude is sneaking up on Gang Orca with what looks to be a hole-punching quirk which is freaking me out a bit ngl
Gang please take him out with your famous yeet as soon as possible, I don’t know if I can handle a prolonged fight against this particular quirk
YES TOKO GET THE FUCK OUT!!!
there is no fucking way this kid is anywhere near his twenties incidentally I might add. none at all. we’ve been had
NO STOP FEELS
HE’S CRYING JESUS CHRIST HE THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO DIE AND HIS TEACHER IS HURT AND DYING MAYBE AND THE VILLAIN SAID HE KILLED SOMEONE AND HE DOESN’T EVEN KNOW BUT IT DOESN’T MATTER, HE STILL WANTS TO PROTECT HIM AND HE’S JUST A BABY TOO?! IT’S TOO MUCH??
AND I DON’T KNOW WHY I’M SURPRISED OR SHOCKED BY ANY OF THIS AT ALL?? LISTEN UP EVERYONE, YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE WHAT I FOUND INSIDE OF THIS BAG IN THE FRIDGE WHICH WAS LABELED “CHILD SOLDIERS LIFE-OR-DEATH BATTLE ARC.” THE CONTENTS OF THIS BAG... MAY SHOCK YOU
lmao yeah but GUESS WHAT! I’M STILL GONNA GET ALL WORKED UP OVER IT AND I’M EVEN GONNA LIKE IT! but also. my babiesss
oh for fuck’s sake this guy still??
okay so I’ve already scrolled down enough to see the very top of the last page after this, and I’m pretty sure that’s Gigantomachia’s hair lol. please don’t tell me the radio is still on and he heard Tomura’s voice oh fiddlefucks
YEP
:’)
welp. strap yourselves in, chums. 19 chapters in, and this arc is only just beginning
#bnha 271#tokoyami fumikage#dabi#hawks (bnha)#fatgum#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha#god this took forever to edit#and it's still a mess#long story short TOKOYAMI AND HAWKS#PROTECT THEM
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Dream SMP Oneshot: Lonely but not Alone
Sometimes I hate how my brain hyperfixates on new media/ideas and refuses to leave me alone until I write it out, but at least I get some good angst out of it!
Also, let it be known that I’m pretty behind on the streams and info (the wiki is a blessing) and I haven’t really watched any of Tubbo’s streams, so I apologize if the characterization is off! Quick reminder to double check the tags as this is an angst fic!
Word count: 1874
Summary: Alone and full of regrets, a ghost from Tubbo’s past makes an appearance.
L’Manberg was… quiet, but that was not unexpected given everything that had recently happened. The preparations for the upcoming wedding, the continued reconstruction of the damaged nation, and…
Tommy’s exile.
How much time had passed since then? Hours? Days? Tubbo honestly was not sure. Everything seemed to blur together, a mixture of stress, sorrow, and the struggle of trying to feel like everything was okay when it clearly was not.
He felt so, so tired.
Exhaustion weighed on him, dragged him down and occasionally made the words spoken to him by his friends sound muffled and incomprehensible. His brain felt like soup, sloshing around in his skull as he listlessly completed each task set before him. Conversations about reconstruction, about political affairs and new battles that were breaking out.
More pointless death and destruction that he, and he alone, had to prevent.
Tubbo sighed and leaned against the nearby building, placing his head in his hands. There were so many choices he wished he could take back, so many decisions he regretted making.
He missed Tommy.
He missed his family.
Wilbur was dead and Ghostbur had forgotten so much. Tommy was gone, exiled before ruin was brought to L’Manberg again and innocent people suffered because of his actions. Techno, a criminal, and a threat to both L’Manberg and himself-
His older brother silhouetted in the cold moonlight. The silence of the crowd, Schlatt’s shouts and demands for his blood to be spilt, his life to be ended.
Why? Why did this have to happen?
I don’t want to die.
Please.
Please-
The harsh, sudden stinging of his cheek snapped Tubbo out of his spiraling thoughts, and he hesitantly lifted a hand to touch the aching spot. His hand hurt, too, but that was nothing. He was used to everything hurting nowadays.
His mind, from all the thinking and planning.
His throat from the constant talking.
His heart from the constant breaking-
With every fiber of his being, he wanted nothing more than to be hugged. For someone, anyone, to show up and wrap their arms around him. To promise that everything would turn out okay. That when he next saw Tommy, his brother would not hate him-
Phil, he missed Phil so much!
This would be the perfect moment for Phil’s dad instincts that he had honed over the years to activate, causing the man to randomly appear out of the shadows to give him the reassurance and comfort he so desperately craved.
Feeling hopeful that his wish might be granted, Tubbo looked up and let out a disappointed sigh upon seeing that no one was there. Still all alone, his family scattered, and his friends-
“Why hello there.”
“Quackity!” Tubbo yelped as he spun around, a hand clutching at his chest as he faced his companion. “Big Q! You scared me! And… you sound different.”
He also looked different, Tubbo realized. Dressed up in a suit that brought back far too many negative memories, something about Quackity just seemed… off. He was so still, so stiff, so… emotionless.
It was as though the smile stretched across his face was fake, plastered on for some unknown purpose.
Unconsciously, Tubbo took a step back, discomfort with the situation rising. Just before he could ask Quackity what he was doing here, and if he was okay, his friend, could he still call him that, stepped forward and spoke.
“Are you happy, Tubbo?”
But it was not Quackity’s voice he heard.
Eyes growing wide as horror coursed through him. The seeming calm, casual tone those words held. That familiar, scheming smile. Even the suit was reminiscent of-
No. No. No no no no-
“What’s the matter?” The possessed Quackity laughed as his shadow stretched out behind him, growing longer and taller, Sprouting horns and a set of scorching red eyes.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, pal.”
“Y-You’re not real!” Tubbo exclaimed as he backpedaled, tripping over his feet and roughly landing on the ground. “You’re dead! And not like Ghostbur! You didn’t come back!”
“Oh, Tubbo, Tubbo,” Schlatt chuckled as his shadowy form slithered across the ground, looping over the younger man’s legs and preventing him from moving. “I knew you were stupid, but you can’t be this stupid.”
Tubbo shuddered, his fingers clenching and forming fists as he desperately looked around for someone, anyone who could get him out of this mess. Alas, he was still alone, trapped with Schlatt.
… Trapped, unless someone was drawn to his location!
He quickly inhaled, but before he could start screaming, a pair of hands wrapped around his throat.
“Ack-”
“C’mon, we just started our chat. I can’t let you end it so soon.” Schlatt chuckled, squeezing tighter. Tubbo thrashed, lashing out at the shadow in a desperate, and ultimately futile, attempt to free himself.
His vision was spotty, going dark. He felt light headed. His throat hurt. He couldn’t scream.
No, no-
Can’t die here, won’t die here.
Have to apologize-
Suddenly, Schlatt let go, and Tubbo collapsed. He crumpled up on the ground, body shaking as tears rolled down his face. He shuddered and wheezed, the occasional cough escaping him as he struggled to get control of his breathing.
“Now that we don’t have to worry about any interruptions,” Schlatt continued, the shadows wrapped around Tubbo’s legs tightening briefly and making the younger man cringe. “I can offer you my congratulations on your victory.”
He felt himself pale upon hearing Schlatt’s words, and he shuddered before quickly shaking his head.
Victory? How could such a hollow title as being President be considered a victory compared to everything he had lost to get here. His family had been torn to shreds and scattered, his friends fought with him, argued about the choices he had made to protect L’Manberg, leaving him feeling so alone and isolated.
With each passing day, it was becoming more obvious that he had lost.
His anguish was obvious to Schlatt. Schlatt, whose devious smile grew wider as his red eyes burned brighter. “Aw, now don’t be like that! You should be proud! You’re keeping Manberg safe, got rid of Tommy-”
“I didn’t want that.” Tubbo muttered, pushing himself upright as he dug his fingers into the chilly grass. “I didn’t want him to be exiled-”
“How can you be so sure?” Schlatt cooed, his hands resting on Tubbo’s shoulders as he leaned forward and smiled at the younger man. “You got rid of a threat, to Manberg, and to you-”
“He’s not a threat! Not to me!” Tubbo shot back, his sorrow turning to anger in an instant. “Besides, it was to keep him and everyone else safe-”
“You threw him out into the cold with just the clothes on his back. You haven’t visited him, and you’ve allowed Dream to do whatever he wants-”
“I can’t stop Dream! I-I can’t control him, and if Tommy hadn’t been exiled then L’Manberg would be trapped behind a wall of obsidian, and he’d probably be dead!”
Schlatt let out a disappointed sigh as his fingers, now claws, dug into Tubbo’s shoulders, making the younger man cringe in pain. “Oh Tubbo, Tubbo, Tubbo. You and I both know that’s not why you got rid of Tommy. He was a threat! He could’ve taken over Manberg, and you know he would’ve!”
“That doesn’t matter! I wasn’t-”
“Oh, but you were. You can lie to the others and you can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to me.” Schlatt hissed. “Surrounded by rats and traitors. How long do you think it’ll be before you’re hung, huh? Do you really think they won’t turn on you?”
“Of course they won’t! They’re my friends-”
“Friends? You threw your BROTHER out of Manberg!” Schlatt threw his head back and laughed. “Are you stupid enough to think they’d care about something like that after what you did? Why would they EVER want to stay friends with you?”
Upon noticing how silent the younger man was, obviously processing what he had said, the shadow decided to keep going.
“Face it! You protected yourself and your throne. Nothing more, nothing less, and they’ll see it that way. They always will!”
“Fuck you-” Tubbo spat before he was cut off by Schlatt reaching out and snagging his suit, twisting the front so the sides of the formal attire dug into his neck. He let out a strangled gasp as he was dragged upwards, lifted so he was finally back on his feet. He scratched and clawed at the shadowy hand holding him up and, after a moment full of struggling, was dropped, allowing him to stand.
But that did not mean Schlatt was done with him just yet.
Before he could escape, or scream to alert someone other than the catatonic Quackity to his predicament, the shadow coiled around him once more so Schlatt was hovering over his shoulder, face close to his own.
“Besides,” Schlatt said, the air in front of the pair churning and whirling, a mirror formed out of darkness, and in its reflection was Tubbo.
Suit wearing, horn bearing Tubbo.
“Soon you’ll be just like me-”
“STOP IT!” He shrieked, hands clasped tightly over his ears as he hunched over, eyes screwed shut as tears leaked out of the corners. “I’M NOT YOU! I’M NOT LIKE YOU! JUST SHUT UP! SHUT! UP-”
He halted in his wailing as he felt someone touch his arm. He violently cringed backwards, looking up to see-
Quackity, suit and ghostly shadow gone. Even the strange mirror was nowhere to be seen. He looked perfectly normal, and concerned.
Scared.
As if Tubbo had been the one acting strange with all the crying and shouting, as if he was unaware of Schlatt’s brief yet painful presence. But… Quackity had been possessed, right?!
Schlatt had been here, right?!
The… the ghost had to have been! There was no way he had made something like that up! It was real, it had to be real!
He… he wasn’t crazy, Tubbo wasn’t crazy.
He was fine, perfectly fine.
There was no way he had hallucinated Schlatt tormenting him, that was impossible!
He wasn’t crazy!
A high pitched, borderline hysterical giggle escaped him before he slapped a hand over his mouth, a desperate attempt to contain the noise, and one that had ultimately failed. He looked up and noticed that Quackity had taken several steps backwards, putting more space between them.
Schlatt’s words from earlier reverberated in his mind.
Why would they EVER want to stay friends with you?
Why, indeed. Could he still call his friends, friends? Would Tommy still call him brother after everything that had happened? Would he have anyone left to be there with him?
Would he wind up like his predecessor?
Unnoticed by Tubbo, Quackity had continued moving backwards, step by step, until he felt he was far enough away from the clearly disturbed President. Once he felt there was enough space between them, he decided to speak up.
“Okay, I’ll… uh… seeyouaround!” He squeaked as he spun around and swiftly walked away from the crying man. Just as Tubbo was finally left alone, that painfully familiar voice whispered in his ear one last statement.
One unfortunate promise.
“I’ll be watching you, Mr. President.”
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Welp! I’ve already fallen headfirst into this mess and have several ideas, AU concepts, and other fun, angsty stuff! As if the fandom didn’t have enough angst already! At least this gives me the perfect opportunity to let my inner angst gremlin fly.
I hope you all enjoyed reading!
- ImmortalCoelacanth
#my story#fanfiction#dream smp#dream smp fic#dsmp tubbo#dsmp schlatt#angst#so much angst#ghost schlatt is a bitchass motherfucker#tubbo is sad and regretful#a background plot is put in motion#tw strangulation#tw emotional manipulation#possessed!quackity is the perfect vessel for angst and other things
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