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basilibino · 1 month

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Season 8 was like 6 years ago(I feel old) and I know ppl have differing opinions on the Mr Echo thing (but it was intended, made it to storyboard and blocked animation and then dropped, soooo) but. I can see his recruitment p easily tbh. Bc the whole reason Dr J was in that lighthouse was because he was resurrected, forced there, and ordered to build Skulkin vehicles by Samukai. But Samukai in the flashback we see has already been deposed as leader of the Skulkin/Underworld. Which means the orders to do so most likely came from Garmadon.

And since Mr. E is one of the head honchos, he's likely an early arrival to the team, so I don't think Harumi has a whole lot figured out at this point, she's just got her Trauma and some Bad Influence Friends and an obsession with Lord Garmadon. So. Like. Plausible deniability road trip that she's just visiting important markers of Ninjago's recent past, all of which involve Lord Garmadon in some meaningful way; its sightseeing, its cathartic, and it gives her time to develop her dream Motorcycle Gang/Resurrection Cult. She's not looking for anyone at the Lighthouse, but she is looking for vehicle blueprints so she can be the Koolest leader on the block. But oops she looks in the basement and there's an Echo.

And she's flipping out bc??? A Ninja???? In the Lighthouse basement??? I mean it makes sense that it would be this one but???

Except this rusty old robot has no idea what she's talking about with this Ninja stuff, he's just waiting for his dad to come back.

And Harumi pauses.

Because how long has he been waiting? He's not sure, he had no proper way to measure time in the basement, and he doesn't have the best view of his clockwork heartpiece. But it was after his father saw a strange ship docking; Echo was worried it was the People who had locked up his father in the first place, but instead his dad sounded happy when he saw whoever was out there. It could have been a front, though, as clearly it was never safe to let Echo back out. Then Dr J popped down briefly, while everyone above was resting, to tell Echo he was desperately needed elsewhere, that it wasn't safe to bring Echo, but that he'd be back in no time.

And the pieces are fitting together for Harumi. And she's like. Your dad's dead, bro.

And he's like. What? Did he die doing what was needed of him?

And she's like. Oh, no. He died a few years later.

And he's like. Why didn't he come back for me????

And she's like. Probably because they kept him away.

And he's like. Who's they?

And she's like. The Ninja I was talking about earlier.

And it surely can't be hard in universe to find pictures of Zane and Dr J post s2-pre s3, so she pulls one up and shows Echo who is freaking out bc why is that one kind of like him and Harumi explains that that was the droid his father created first, that he became a Ninja, and that hes probably the one who took their father away and kept echo waiting for years.

But Echo has doubts, shocked as he is abt a new older brother, he wants to believe the good in the situation so he's unsure. But Harumi mentions that the Ninja's failures to uphold more than their self preservation/interests has led to uncountable losses and devastation in Ninjago time and time again, before delving into her own story. And she seems so kind, and so hurt, and I do think there's a genuine connection btwn these two that forms from this shared emotional torment that they decide came from the Ninja, and now Echo is more receptive.

And then Harumi gets to start her Garmadon pitch because wait! If Echo was made here, then that could only have happened because of Lord Garmadon. And she reiterates that he's the reason she and her city could have even survived The Great Devourer. And maybe Echo's family-by-creation left, maybe they were untrustworthy and lacking, but that's OK bc if you look at it all a certain way, Garmadon is more of a father to Echo than Dr J was. And Echo is a vulnerable, overwhelmed mess who just found out his dad fucked off for years without him and also died, and also he has a brother??? Who their dad clearly seems to have favored??? Did they even know about Echo??? Did they delight in their life free of him???

Basically. Kinda Spinel-core but getting abandoned and left completely alone does that to you. Especially when the first person to find you after being abandoned is a deeply hurt and misguided teen who is probably kinda desperate for someone, anyone else to see the Ninja the way she sees them.

#i was thinking abt the idea of citrusshipping #and how it could have flowed into Mr Echo. with morro as the vengeful influence tinting these #one sided experiences to associate ninja with loss #but theni was like 'wait a sec tho bc Harumi does that also and its her gang called the sons of garmadon #and if youre very carfeully squinting and cherrypicking out pesky details and nuance. like harumi would be.#echos existence is thanks to Lord Garmadon. and there is no better replacement dad than garmadon. you should be a son of garmadon.#and echo would probably listen and she could get him out the lighthouse and off the island'#and anyway i kinda ship Harumi and Echo now?#i like citrusshipping its funney but i think i actually ship this dynamic now #its. fucked and manipulative but its also like. genuine and just. two scarred young people and harumi gives echo her distorted view #of the world as the gift of her love #so its like she wasnt trying to manipulate echo. not like she was trying to manipulate Lloyd.#but she did take someone in a v fragile state and begin shaping his worldview to match hers. unconciously but still done.#like i can also see her bringing him to the mainland and she and UV and Killow are his tethers which means everything he sees radicalizes #him further...and draws him in closer to the fold #anyway if he and harumi smoochie kiss then shes why he got rebuilt in Crystallized. also i think mr F stands for 'Mr Fun Guy'#echo zane #harumi jade #ninjago harumi #quietmystery?#idk what the ship name would be but im here for it #mr e ninjago #mr echo #echo/harumi #tbh i said i kinda ship it now but it could also be friendship #sons of garmadon #...ok til abt the morro-echo-harumi trio hcs and Yes #this is just more of a like. canon compliant ish take where morro is still gone from the narrative #love the idea of the 3 in a vengeance trio tho

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nottheratking · 1 month

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Hi! So I'm actually kinda nervous to post this, but, my brain decided that those 3 would be cute together, and I can't really argue with it, so this drawing happend

(a version without the overlay ^)

#tmagp spoilers #tmagp #tmagp celia #tmagp sam #tmagp gerry #I alredy shipped Sam and Celia before #But then I was listening to ep 8 #And brain went “but what about all 3”#And I had to give in #I don't think they have a ship name and Idk what it would be if it existed but yeah

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earl-grey-crow · 2 months

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✨pond theories✨

#I don't have pond theories I have commentary on the latest episode which I got around to watching today #because I was watching gran turismo on sunday (amazing movie) (maybe an even better soundtrack I'm listening to it for the third time today #I just really love kat and thomas's dynamic I'm not saying I ship them I'm just saying they're just really fun to watch together #I know it was unrealistic to expect kat to smash a bottle of rum on thomas what with jacob dying in the background but can you #can you just imagine. if she did. can you imagine how great that would be.#and can you imagine how great it would've been to see him unceremoniously drop her into the ocean like. get drenched idiot.#the way home hallmark #also NOAH we finally got a NAME my word #it's so strange they waited this long to mention it like did I miss it before??#right now he's barely interesting but idk after that scene where they're singing in alice's room #I feel like he might have the potential to be a friend #I just don't want them to make it a ship because good grief do we need it (no)#and not everything has to be a ship #and also girl. alice. you barely know him. why??#alice asking why guys can't just say what they mean is the most relatable thing I've ever heard lol #I think it'd be interesting if nick put the pieces together that his alice and this alice are the same alice #it'd add to the chaos which would be fun #that look elliot gave nick at the fire on the beach was soooo so tired. he's just so tired.#and please WHAT happened at the estate WHAT went down at the party and WHAT happened in the past that elliot's so worried about #the way they're drawing this out is sublime #also how painful this is for kat?? and for del?? but especially kat in this episode?? wild #what a good episode #earl crow ramblings

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simonstamenovic · 8 months

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borrasca

#outgoing transmission #seeeee its uhhg well.#being serious in tahs despit half the brain kicking etc etc BUT ok #wrt recent like e/thel cain shippinf in cest ship and such its so #ppl r like r u SURPRISED when she wrote smth called INBRED like um idk maybe?#theres a huuuuuuuge diff btween SHIPPING inc est andike. discussing it as a theme?#and idk thinking ab how borrasca did it makes us both a bit ill and so like yeah well thats #thats the most positive we can take. its tragedy. but nooooo yall r getting off on it #THERES A DIFFERENCEEEE #not saying all our kinks r morally correct but we do draw the line at that #where was i ? that poscast is fucked butgood. cle sprouse unfortunately good in it.#to add on a while later it made us so uncomfortable to listen to but also #the main character was uncomfortable too. but what else did they have ? idk. they know its bad everyone does #but in the context of the story. 'would you prefer your comfort over my happiness despite me being through much worse compared to this' is #its so um. gah. anywya the ongoing list of borrasca names in the notes haunts us the amt of same. well. iykyk ig.

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archieimagines · 1 year

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touching din | din djarin

Summary: The three times that Din bends his own rules and engages in physical touch.

his primary love languages are acts of service and physical touch. i will die on this hill. i started this one just to indulge in the thoughts of touching his lovely face. it’s been in the works for a while and although i know it’s far from perfect, i’m glad that it finally gets to see the light of day! warnings: bad language, potential incoherence? idk i’m very tired but i hope you like it tags: plenty of fluff, plenty of indulgent, sfw touching, and then a good handful of angst. rollercoaster central. this takes place over a period of time, so part of it comes after finding out grogu’s name, which is why he’s referred to as many things! word count: 4650 written by: archie support me on ko-fi!

The travelling between planets would’ve been excruciating if not for your life partner and your adoptive child. The three of you made rather an unorthodox family. A runaway from Corellia, a Mandalorian and a… a sweet ball of green. An unorthodox family, indeed, but loving.

The Child chirped and bubbled away on your lap, apparently having a conversation with you while you sat in the pilot seat. You listened attentively, made agreeing noises at all the right moments, the lights of hyperspace travel filling the cabin with slow flashes. He really was so cute. You’d tell him it often, and you’d tell him that Din thought so too, even if he’d never say it. That much was obvious.

It was in the way he carried him, the way he protected him. The occasional pat to his head, or the quiet rub to his long ears as he slept. He wasn’t the type to openly say it, but it was clear, and that was what counted.

The Child reached out to the knob atop the gearstick, fingers wiggling.

“Baby, no. We have to always ask Din about the ship, hm?” You bounced him gently on your knee in an effort to ease the sad coos- but there was no need. A gloved hand reached around you, exposed fingertips closing on the ball. It was unscrewed and placed into the waiting green hands, content whirs and chatters soon filling the air.

The warmth in your chest grew into a smile as you dropped your head back, peering up at the helmeted man that stood just out of sight. “That’s a yes, then?”

A nod. “That’s a yes.”

“I didn’t hear you come up.”

He nudged his head to the Child, voice soft, “You were having an important conversation.”

And then he did what you loved.

He reached a slow hand out and stroked it over the top of your head, coming to a gentle hold at the nape of your neck, and leaned in. Your eyes fell closed as the cool beskar met between your brows, and you didn’t need to see him to know his eyes were closed too.

A beskar kiss.

You heard a soft sigh through his voice modulator. This was the way his people would show love. He made no move to break away, even from the awkward angle at which he leant. He savoured the moment, breathed with you, his thumb running back and forth over your skin. You weren’t sure if he could feel the goosebumps that his touch rose every time, his fingertips slipping into the lower roots of your hair.

He loved to touch you, you could tell. It wasn’t easy, and these moments were few and far between with his action-packed lifestyle, but the tenderness of these touches clearly meant so much to him. To you.

Without disturbing the occupied bundle on your lap, you reached for Din’s other hand. It hung by his side until you took it in your own, slowly raising it to place your kiss on the knuckles of his fingers. You kept it there a while, backs of his fingers to your lips, his helmet pressed to your forehead. The warmth of those digits filled a void left by the cold beskar. The warmth of human touch.

Long moments slipped by as you absorbed it until you became self-conscious. He hadn’t pulled away, but you weren’t even sure how he’d felt about it with his covered expression, so you let out a resigned sigh and lowered his hand.

But he surprised you.

His fingers opened up instead, laying delicately on the side of your jaw, his similar hold on the back of your neck still in place.

His thumb reached out to meet the corner of your lips, before tentatively, almost shyly, brushing over the centre of them.

He wanted more.

You were only too happy to oblige, lips raising into a delicate peak, placing a tender kiss to the pad of his thumb. Soon, he shifted, placing his index finger there instead. Then his middle. Each of his fingers tapped to your lips, and you made sure to place your affection on the tip of each one, giving in to the urge to smile.

He loved this.

You heard the tinned sound of a sigh before his fingers slipped away once again, soon followed by his reluctant leaning away.

He stood tall above where you sat, visor staying fixed on you. He was just looking. Just peaceful. You shone an easy smile, somehow both cosy and breathless from the moment.

His helmet turned towards the green being on your lap.

He blinked up at Din, and soon, a confused coo filled the cabin.

Din shrugged one shoulder. “You’ll get it when you’re older.” And with that, he settled back into the passenger seat, arms crossing over his chest. “Rest up,” he called, presumably to the pair of you. “We’ll touch down for fuel in six hours.”

Din’s bunk was the epitome of comfort. Cramped, yes. Warm, yes. Especially with two bodies. It’d easily become stuffy in there with the panel sealed while the pair of you shared his thin mattress, and you’d always wondered how he managed to keep his helmet on even in that environment. Or perhaps… He couldn’t feel the stuffiness because of the beskar. Or maybe… He was just always stuffy in there, used to closed air.

Your eyes raised from where you’d had them closed, cheek pressed to the chest of his flight suit to mimic sleep. Early mornings after a long, well-deserved sleep often came like this, and there was something so soul-healing about laying there to absorb his calm, peaceful presence before getting up for what would likely be another day of action.

Watching his visor for long moments, working out if he was still sleeping or looking back at you- it had become somewhat of a hobby. Sometimes, you had convinced yourself, if you looked hard enough, you could see the slightest shape beneath the vision slot of his helmet.

You weren’t sure if they were really there. But, in the dim light of the bunk, you could swear the bridge of his nose casted a shadow that caused a darker shadow inside the mask. His lashes were dark and long, and they fluttered slowly as his eyes closed in steady blinks, looking back at you with such leisure.

But then… Had you made that up?

You squinted, straining your eyes until you were sure— yes, you’d made it up. He was still sleeping.

But it didn’t hurt to imagine he had long lashes and a strong nose, perhaps even a strong brow to match. It didn’t hurt to imagine you could see the faintest outlines of the man you love.

Sated, you turned your cheek back to his chest, eyes falling closed to mimic his slumber. Or at least—

“Morning.”

— What you thought was slumber.

His voice was groggy in the modulator; that intimate morning voice. Deeper, softer than usual.

It brought a smile to your lips. “Morning, my love. You were awake?”

“I have been for a while.” His arm tightened snug around your body in his hold, half atop his. “I like to watch you wake up.”

A soft laugh. “Not creepy, hm?”

“Not even a little bit.”

Silence lapsed with his low tone. All was quiet. Not the whirring of the ship, not the sounds of the forest he’d landed the Crest in the clearing of. Only the delicate air of his breathing inside his mask, catching in the voice modulator so quietly that ordinarily, you wouldn’t be able to hear it.

The thought stirred a deep intimacy in your chest. No one else would get to hear this. No one else would get to lay with him like this, press against his armour-free body like this. You splayed a hand over the cloth of his chest, toes wiggling from an uncontainable contentment with how your leg rested over his. Not an ounce of beskar between the two of you.

But yet…

Gentle fingertips trailed upwards, over his upper chest, swirling delicate patterns in the creases of his fabric. Your eyes remained closed, focusing everything on him, the warmth that met your touch when you worked past the collar of the flight suit, meeting the skin of his neck.

It wasn’t the first time you’d touched him so. Of course, after this long together, you’d been intimate many a time-- You were both human, after all... But the helmet had always stayed on.

Your fingertips splayed over his throat, and it vibrated with his low hum.

It was no secret by now. He loved to be touched.

You could just imagine him there beneath the visor, eyes closed, brow relaxed. His face caught in a long moment of calm where it was often riddled with worry, or effort from the fighting. Bringing him such serenity like this was the least you could do for him, showing him that he’s loved. So, so loved.

Slowly, your touch crept just a little further up, seeking his jaw. But as your knuckles knocked the edge of his helmet, a gentle hand closed around your wrist in warning. He didn’t need to speak.

Your voice was the softest murmur. “I won’t take it off. Can I just- Feel you?”

He didn’t move, not for a while. You raised your eyes, peering up at him from where you were nestled in his chest, as if you could possibly read his facial expressions.

His hold eased, thumb lazily rubbing over your veins before letting go, and you found a buzz of warmth in your chest. He trusted you with his most precious boundary. Silently, you vowed to always protect that trust.

Delicate fingers worked upwards, feeling for hair from his chin. But, a soft gasp- There was no beard. The gentle prickle of cropped hairs caught your fingerprints as they swiped along his jaw, and you marvelled at it.

“You shave?” The words came out with a soft, amused breath of disbelief, eyes rounded in surprise. For some reason, it’d always made sense that he’d be bearded, long-haired. He had no reason to shave, knowing that no one would ever see, but now that you knew, it clicked.

Of course he’d shave. Din was a particularly thorough person, he was always driving himself forward to do a perfect job of his work: of course he’d take care of himself too.

“If it grows too long, it’s uncomfortable. Catches in the modulator.”

“Ah,” you hummed, brushing along the ridge of his jaw in the confined space. There was something about feeling his jaw move as he spoke, verifying that he really was human, really did have goings-on behind the mask that shielded him from the world. There wasn’t much room in there to move freely, only your fingers able to reach his face, but it was comfortable. You could feel the soft sway of his breath on your touch. “What colour is it?”

“Black. Brown, black.”

You hummed, eyes fixed on his visor lazily, though you weren’t really looking at him. You were visualising as you studied the contours of his lower face, mapping him out as best as you could in your mind, nails brushing through the stubble on his cheek. They trailed towards the corner of his lips, where you noticed the strands got longer. A moustache?

The smile that lifted your face was automatic, beaming at the realisation. You followed the direction of it, above his upper lip, soon finding a little sparse patch on his philtrum. Your eyes drifted closed, imagining the way it might feel to kiss him now that you knew this; how his facial hair would scratch your upper lip, your chin. Perhaps it would be almost sore on your skin if you kissed him long enough, hot enough--

His lips raised to press a real kiss to the centre of your fingers. Slow, shy, even a little clumsy.

A rich gasp pulled from your throat. It was electric to feel his lips on your skin, pressing the affection directly onto you, after these long years of going without.

You let your fingertips lower, finally feeling the shape of his lips, that subtle cupid’s bow as it raised into yet another peck, slow and tender against your touch. Your brows drew together, fighting the emotion that welled up in you, trying to make you cry. You weren’t all too sure why-- this was just- so much. It was so much, to feel him like this, to receive his first kisses like this. Something you’d never even imagined you could have.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured against your fingertips, tone almost a caress. His own fingers raised to brush at the corner of your eye. One must’ve slipped out.

You didn’t even know he was looking at you. Your lashes fluttered open, gaze meeting where you imagined his eyes would be. “I can’t help it,” you whispered. “You’re perfect.”

He’d lied to you. He’d massively, irrevocably, intentionally lied to you.

Your jaw ached from your grit teeth as you fought back angry fires in your heart, determined not to cry until you’d pulled your family safely off this forsaken, evil planet.

Din had been tasked with a mission of political undertones involving the spice market. He was masking as a bounty hunter to get information, so this time, the importance was in keeping the right people alive.

Of course, it didn’t work, and those people were now trying to kill you.

Your fingers trembled as you fought against the clock and the jolts of blasters firing at the ship to strap Grogu into his passenger seat. Your eyes were bleary, but you had to focus, secure him in safely. You wouldn’t take anyone’s safety for granted after this stupid stunt.

“Get her in the sky!” Din shouted up through the hatch, pushing his voice so loudly against the fighting and blasters below that it almost outgrew the modulator, his real voice peeking through.

Grogu’s sweet eyes peered up at you, giving a questioning gurgle. The poor thing had no idea what was going on, was probably terrified by it all, and even your demeanour on top of it, but you didn’t have time to explain.

“We need to go!”

You buckled the baby in tightly and fought your emotions to ruffle a quick hand atop his head, hoping to soothe him even a small degree before falling into the pilot’s seat, specifically buckling yourself in, and jamming the engine on with jerky movements.

The Crest resisted you, far too old and rickety by now to be good for quick getaways with a cold engine, but with some slow drags, turbulence from knocking through trees and extra laser blasts from below, she was finally in the air.

You heard the distinctive sound of fighting downstairs, someone being kicked off the ramp at an easy 400 feet altitude, and then the mechanical sound of the ship being closed off again.

The ladder creaked with Din’s climbing, and you didn’t look back to him as he collapsed into the other passenger seat, not ready to talk to him yet. You were still seething, and wouldn’t engage with him until you’d pulled up safely out of the planet’s atmosphere.

Long moments of quiet dragged by. He knew you by now. He didn’t need to see more than the square set of your shoulders to know that he shouldn’t speak yet unless he wanted to upset you more. That, and you still didn’t look at him even as the minutes neared a full hour, focused on getting to the nearest hyperspace route.

He glanced to Grogu, who sat there blinking, clueless as he could be. He must’ve known something was going on, even if he didn’t know what exactly Din had done.

Din reached a gloved hand out, petting lightly on the green boy’s head. He still didn’t speak.

Eventually, your frustrated fires ebbed into a more containable state, you shifted the Crest into light speed, and unbuckled your belt with a heaved sigh. “Downstairs, Din.”

You stood, instructed Grogu not to touch a thing, headed down the hatch, and pointedly avoided looking at Din the whole time.

The body of the ship was chaos. Lazed burns in everything the three of you owned, strewn across the floor and torn from the struggle. Clearly, he’d really had to put up a fight.

It was his own fault.

Boot on metal as he stepped onto the floor beside you. You finally looked at him.

You didn’t need to see his face to know he was exhausted. It was in the way he held himself, the way his arms just hung there by his sides, strong shoulders visibly slouched to the trained eye.

You reeled on him. “Why didn’t you let me in on it?”

Silence.

“Less of that, Din. Speak to me, I need to understand.”

There was a pause before his voice came. Firm, but gentle, as if pointedly trying to keep the peace. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Then make me understand.” You pulled an upturned crate closer and planted yourself on it, trying to keep the buzz in your veins under control, but your tone was clipped nonetheless as you gestured to a crate nearby. “Go ahead, let’s hear it.”

He sighed and tugged the crate over, perched on the corner of it opposite you. His knees were parted and elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he thought through his facts. The best way to make you see that he’d done the right thing.

“I couldn’t tell you my true location because if you knew, your presence would have soiled the plan.”

“So you’re telling me I’m a hindrance.”

“No.”

“That’s certainly what it sounds like-”

“It needed full discretion to work. I’d told them-”

“I can keep fucking secrets, Din.”

“I know you can.”

“So you lied? Told me you were on the other side of town? How was I supposed to get to you if something went wrong?”

He sighed, his head dropping forwards in exasperation. “I told you to stay on the ship.”

“That’s not always possible. You know it’s not! Hunters still have fobs fixed onto Grogu, Din, there’s no escaping that!”

“I couldn’t have you interrupting or we’d all be dead. I’d told them I was alone- no, look at me.”

Your jaw was aching from how you grit your teeth as you forced yourself to look up at that visor, the weight of frustrated tears brimming at your waterline. You gave a small nod.

“Listen,” he started. “I’d told them I came alone. If you’d known my location, you would have interrupted.”

“To save your skin? Yeah, I would.”

“Exactly. We’d both be dead, and the hunters would take the kid.”

“You think I can take care of him without you? We don’t stand a chance without you around, Din.”

He paused. Quiet lapsed, and you had no idea what he was thinking. Sometimes, he really gave nothing away, and it was infuriating. He didn’t let you in. He would rarely open up to you about what was going on inside that beskar that hid everything from you. Everything.

Sometimes, you were sure you didn’t even know the man you were committed to. He held so much of the power in this setup. He knew everything about you, everything was done by his thinking, and yet he didn’t need to disclose much at all. He’d keep you in the dark about everything.

What he was feeling, what he was thinking… Hell, even when he smiled at you he kept it to himself. You’d grown to handle those, but this, actively lying to you. As if you couldn’t follow instructions. As if you couldn’t be trusted.

You sighed as the drops in your eyes welled up enough to fall over your cheeks. You pulled yourself off the crate and approached the ladder to the cabin, calling over your shoulder. “Go clean up or something,” you sniffled, “I need a minute away from you.”

The clang of footsteps behind you, a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Hey. Look at me.”

“I can’t, Din.”

“Why not?”

Such a simple question, such an impossible answer. You closed your eyes, struggling to pick out words that might illustrate what’s going on inside. The ache that sank your chest, that made your throat feel heavy with uncried frustrations. None of this was okay. Perhaps after you’d cooled down, you’d be able to see that mask as anything other than a barrier between you, that keeps him safe from your eyes. But for now, you couldn’t bare it. You scrambled to express it, but all you could let out was a strained “It hurts.”

Another moment of silence. Then, carefully, “What hurts?”

Clearly, he didn’t mean for his words to bring on the tidal wave of emotions and thoughts that you’d been keeping at bay.

“This, Din. All of this! Living in a ship, wondering if I’m gonna make it back in every time I step out of it, and not even being in on missions that risk your life! It’s like you’re cut off from me. Like we just live in the same space and I’m just there to entertain you. But it’s- it’s-!” You heaved a sigh, head buzzing with the force of the thoughts that were spilling out. They were so honest and raw from brewing for far too long. They must’ve been sharp as they came out, they must’ve hit him like a ton of bricks.

But of course, that damned beskar hid everything.

“It’s hard to be with a man who doesn’t trust me.”

For once, his voice rose. “I trust you more than anyone in the gal-!”

“You almost died because you didn’t trust me enough to let me in! You’d rather die than trust me!”

“That’s not how I-”

“That’s what your actions are telling me, Din. They always do. You never tell me what you’re thinking. I have to guess, but I can’t even read your fucking face. I live my life in question marks because you don’t even give me the option to-”

“You know I can’t show you my face.”

A deep breath left you, shaky and tired. So much pressure had alleviated in your head, like you’d finally emptied the contents of your mind onto a platter before him. And now that you could see it too, heard what you’d said, you felt almost ashamed for it.

Criticising the beskar was too far. That was his way of life, and had nothing to do with how he felt towards you. For sure, it was frustrating sometimes for you didn’t even know what your life partner looked like, but his culture was part of him. And you loved him.

“I know. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-- What are you doing?”

He reached by you to snatch some fabric from a nook, and he folded it into a long strip without so much as a word.

“I’m- I’m trying to apologise-”

“You don’t have to. How can you trust a man you can’t see, right? We’ve been together so long, and you still don’t know who I am.”

You were stunned beneath the guilt that crashed over you. He took your words in so deeply, and fed them back to you plainly. You could see how you must’ve hurt him, with sentiments like this.

Your eyes welled with tears again. Whatever had come over you had clearly wanted to hurt him, but that wasn’t you. Your thoughts were too chaotic to pinpoint, swarmed with hurt and pain that was only now built on by the fact that you’d treated him so terribly. You’d sworn to him long ago that you accepted his Mandalorian binds, loved them even, but you’d let them get in the way with one incident.

“Don’t cry,” he spoke, modulated voice gentle. “I’m- I’m understanding you.” A calloused thumb brushed along your outer lashes to pause any tears that wanted to fall. “Let me help.”

And there was darkness.

He tied his makeshift blindfold behind your head in a loose knot, keeping your eyes in darkness. “Din? What is this?”

He kept quiet, and you heard shifting, something being placed aside.

“Why do you never-”

You cut yourself off when his hands took your wrists and lifted them gently, until your palms splayed on his stubbled cheeks. He gave a long sigh, and you imagined he’d closed his eyes.

Your heart jolted. He was here before you, bare, no helmet. When he spoke, his voice rang out clear and pure, the true timbre of his voice without modulation.

“I said, I trust you more than anyone in the galaxy.” His face moved with his words beneath your touch. “I’d move planets for you.”

He left you breathless. You dove at the chance, fingers tracing over his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose. It stood high and strong, just like you’d always imagined.

“This… This isn’t risky? I didn’t mean to offen-”

“You didn’t offend me. I know it’s hard, I feel it too.” He guided your hands to his lips, and he placed gentle kisses to your fingers.

The lump in your throat welled up again, your nose stinging from the tears that you tried to hold back. The thought of him struggling with his culture simply because he wanted to be close to you. “You do?”

“You know how many times I wanted to take it off? This seems… This is the best way. I’m not breaking any rules.”

You gave a watery, sniffly laugh. “This is the way?”

A hum of humour. “This is the way.”

You let your touch wander over his face, mapping it as well as you could. The curve of his eyelids, the strength of his browbone. He breathed softly, and you could feel the air on your palms as it pushed through.

You wove your fingertips into his hairline, pushing his locks back and bunching them up in your grasp behind his head. It was surprisingly long with unruly waves, and so, so soft.

He leaned in with a sigh until his forehead met yours, hands falling to their home on your waist.

And before you knew it, his lips were on yours. His warm, sweet lips fit perfectly against yours, and your head spun. It was so much, feeling him so close after nearly losing him, arguing with him, and your first kiss in the long years of being his. The first actual kiss.

He was unsure and clumsy in his affection, a little hesitant.

Clearly, this was his first one ever.

You let a hand trail to his jaw, guiding with a gentle touch. He soon settled in, became more confident in his kiss, even if it was still clumsy.

And it was perfect. The determined nibbles to your lips, the soft scratch of his moustache on your upper lip, the way he tugged you closer even as you were pressed against the ladder.

When it finally slowed to a stop, he murmured softly, so much closer than he’d ever been. The sound reached deep inside your mind to soothe your soul and make you crave more of his kiss. “I won’t ever treat you like that again. I’ll give you full disclosure of my missions, every single one. Alright?”

“Alright,” you agreed, breathless and flustered, “On one condition.”

“Hm?” He was clearly lost in this touch, so starved for so long, and it showed in his voice. He was utterly entranced with this new feeling, someone else’s fingers on his skin, words the last thing on his mind.

“We do this more often.”

A low laugh rumbled in his chest, nose nudging on the tip of yours. “Deal.”

#mandalorian imagine #mandalorian x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #mando imagine #mando x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian #grogu #the child #star wars imagine #star wars #pedro pascal #written by archie

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runningfrom2am · 5 months

Text

leveling the playing field XI

summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.3k

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there

masterlists // nav // requests

a/n: nothing much to say other than thank you guys and i hope you like it :)

next part

"You can't call me that here!" You hiss, taking the final steps out into the summer nights breeze.

"Never mind that, what are you doing here?" Coriolanus asks as soon as the door to the back of the building shuts behind you, leaving the two of you alone in the quiet alley behind the Hob.

You groan, dragging your hands over your face. "I had nowhere to go."

"Well, I... what happened?"

"Does it really matter?" You just shake your head looking up at him now, face red with anger. "If we're gonna talk, how about we talk about how you tried to drag me down to hell with you, huh? How about we talk about you showing up after trying to ruin my life and kissing me like I'm some kind of object to you! After all this time! Let's talk about that!"

Coryo takes a sharp breath in, chewing on the inside of his cheek. "You're not an object." He says, a hint of disgust in his voice, upset that you would even imply that he felt that way.

"Funnily enough, that is the bottom of my list of concerns right now!" You laugh dryly. "I thought we were friends! I thought you cared! And maybe that was stupid of me but don't come back now saying that you do." Your narrowed eyes are rimmed with tears now, and he can see that you're hurt despite you trying to shield it in anger.

"We are friends, I-"

"No, Coriolanus, we aren't, because friends don't do that!"

"Will you stop fucking interrupting me!" He shouts, making you jump. He's fed up with you always having to have the last word. "For once, just one time, will you let me explain?"

You just stare at him, jaw grit as you look up at him. You've never looked softer, your clothes and your hair are so loose and freeing and unlike you and you've somehow never looked more like yourself.

"I'm sorry. Okay?" He says, taking a hesitant step closer to you.

"Is that all you've got?" You scoff, nodding to yourself and pushing past him to walk back inside.

He can't let you go again, he just can't. He grabs your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

"Y/N, listen, I'm sorry. I regretted it the moment I said it, I shouldn't have pulled you into that but they already knew and I just wanted to be able to help you." Internally you roll your eyes, relaxing your arm so he knows you won't run. You'll hear him out. "All I wanted was for you to come with me, I thought they would ship us off together."

"Me? As a peacekeeper? Un-fucking-likely." You reply bitterly. "Did you think that through for even a second before you decided that I would be better off with you? Or were you just scared of being alone?"

The question makes him pause, which was enough hesitation for you to pull your arm away and start walking off toward the street. "Tigris wanted me to tell you they love you, by the way!" You call back over your shoulder, turning the corner and disappearing out of his view.

You walk around the building and back to the front entrance, hoping you could lose him in the crowd if he decides to follow you. You were no longer in any mood to dance, that's for sure, so you would just wait for the show to end in the back where you first talked to Lucy Gray again. You push through the abundance of people dancing, the music blaring in your ears. You make it to the desolate hallway, attempting to gather yourself before you really start to cry.

"Y/N?" You hear someone call from behind you, and you turn at the use of your real name. It didn't sound like Coryo, or any of the Covey band.

"Sejanus!" You squeal, running back toward him and tackling him in a hug. "God, I have never been happier to see your face in my life." You sigh, resting your chin on his shoulder.

"Likewise." He chuckles, rubbing your back. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm great." You grin, taking a step back to talk to him face-to-face instead.

"We have to find Coriolanus, he'll be thrilled to see you." He says, looking over his shoulder to see if he could spot the blonde anywhere in the crowd.

"Ugh." You groan, rolling your eyes. "No, I saw him."

He snaps his head back, looking at you confused. "You don't seem happy." He observes, stating the obvious.

"Tell me, Sejanus," You muse, resting a hand on your hip as you shift your weight. "If you had someone you perceived as more than a friend take the liberty of framing you for something that could cost you your whole life when they knew you were innocent, would you forgive them if their only apology was a kiss?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him. You knew you were stretching the truth, but Coriolanus had done the same thing, clearly, so what was the harm in wanting Sejanus on your side?

"I... what? No, he didn't- he didn't tell me that." He looks shocked, looking back again to see if he could see him.

"Well. That's what just happened, weirdly enough." You laugh, shrugging to try and portray that you don't really care much more than that.

"I- um... We were told you were sick." He changes the subject now, something you're happy about because one more thought about Coryo and you might be in tears; or you might start throwing things.

"Sick? No." You shake your head. "I ran because if I hadn't, I'd be six feet under in the Capitol cemetery by now, no doubt. That or I'd be lacking a tongue."

"Oh, wow." He doesn't know what to say, so you just hum in agreement. "Coriolanus almost convinced me you were dead, but I knew better. They couldn't kill you if they tried, I don't think."

You chuckle, shrugging slightly. "Well, yeah. So that's been my life recently. Now I'm staying with Lucy Gray." You explain. "But what about you? You follow out here Coryo too?"

"More or less." He nods, a slight smile on his face. "Hey, uh, I've got to go, got some business to take care of but we'll get together again soon, okay? I'm really glad you're alive."

You nod, hugging him again. "Yeah, of course. I'm staying at this ugly, old grey house at the edge of the seam, past the end of the road. There's goats out back, you can't miss it. You'd think there's nothing out there, but trust me, we'll be there. Come by sometime when you're free, okay?"

"Will do." He agrees, hugging you back for just a moment. "I'll see you soon, Miss Sage." He teases, giving you a polite bow before turning to return to the party. You furrow your brow a bit as he almost directly approaches Billy Taupe, Lucy Gray's ex alongside one of his scummy friends, but you decide to mind your business. Sejanus was always too nice to everyone for his own good, anyway.

"Y/N's here." Coriolanus states, both him and Sejanus helping to carry their intoxicated bunkmates back to the barracks. "You see her?"

"I did, yeah, I talked to her." He nods, eyes straight ahead as their shoes crunch over the gravel.

"You talked to her? When?"

"A little after her performance, she was heading to this back room. Seemed awfully upset."

Coryo sighs. "What did she tell you?"

"That you betrayed her." Sejanus answers simply, adjusting his friend's arm over his shoulder. "That she was going to be killed or worse if she stayed."

"That's not-" Coryo thinks it over. "I didn't betray her, Sejanus. We know one baseline thing about Y/N Y/L/N and it's that she is, if nothing else, dramatic."

"Really? I wouldn't describe her that way." Sejanus argues subtly. "She's outspoken, maybe slightly obnoxious at times, but I feel like I am too. The one thing I know for sure about her is that she's not a liar, Coriolanus."

Coryo doesn't know if he's more angry about Sejanus calling you 'obnoxious' or framing it so nicely that you don't keep your mouth shut when you probably should. You were his girl, his. No one should talk about you like that but him- praise you or critique you all the same. You didn't know it yet, necessarily, but you were his to protect and to fix, if need be. You were rough around the edges, that's for certain, but you would mellow out eventually if you ever forgave him. "She wouldn't let me explain."

"Oh, was this before or after you kissed her as an apology?" Sejanus matches the heavy statement with a laugh and Coryo rolls his eyes at his response.

"I just, I needed her to know I did it because I care. I thought she was dead."

"Okay, well, she told me where she's staying. Told me to stop by on a day off." Sejanus admits. "Maybe you should come with me."

"Maybe." He agrees.

It was another week of torturous loneliness before Coriolanus was graced with a day off, and not even so much graced as he had to trade with one of his bunkmates to have the same day off as Sejanus. As soon as they ate they grabbed a couple bags of ice to bring with them to help you and your new friends beat the heat- a peace offering, of sorts.

The early August sun beat down on their backs as they walked through the Seam, a decrepit and rundown residential area that Coryo had no doubt had never seen a single air conditioner in all its days. There's no way you were happy here. Even with the lightness of his t-shirt and the early hour, he still had to fight the urge to remove it and instead drape it over his head to shade his skin from the sun.

"There's nothing down here. She lied to you." Coryo mutters as the already crumbled road falls into nothing more than a trail.

"Y/N said we had to keep going past the road." Sejanus says, looking back at him over his shoulder. "You want to hate her so bad, but you can't."

"I certainly can." Coryo grumbles in denial. "She's giving me the runaround. Obviously, she gave you fake directions-"

"Are you sure about that?" His friend replies smugly, looking through the overgrown trees ahead at a small grey house circled in by a white fence that hadn't seen a wash in years.

Coriolanus doesn't say anything, mentally rolling his eyes at being proven wrong. "Alright, go knock, then." He gestures for his friend to go ahead.

"This is your big plan to win her over? Hide in the bushes while I go in?"

"No. I'm just sure she lied and a local drunk is about to open the door with a gun pointed at your head."

"Suit yourself." Sejanus replies lightheartedly, practically skipping up to the door and giving it a few gentle knocks before taking a step back.

It's only a few moments and lots of chatter from inside before the door is swung open. "Hello there, what can we do ya' for?" Lucy Gray grins, and Sejanus looks pointedly over his shoulder at Coryo.

"Hi, I'm Sejanus, I'm a friend of Y/N's from back home." He explains and she smiles.

"Of course! I thought I recognized you, come on in, she's out in the back but you can just pass right through." She lets him in, looking at Coryo standing just outside of the fence line.

"You coming, Coriolanus?" She asks, raising an eyebrow as she holds the door, leaning against the frame.

He plasters on a smile, nodding and walking up to her on the porch that he's shocked doesn't collapse under his feet. "How are you?" She grins at him. "It's good to see you."

"You too." He nods. "I'm glad to see you made it home safe."

"Hey, well, welcome to the club." She chuckles, closing the door behind him. "Y/N's just out back." She points toward the back door. "But she's not too keen about seeing you, you know."

"So I've heard." Coryo sighs. "The feeling is mutual."

"Then why are you here?" She asks her previous mentor calmly. He's stumped by this, unsure how to respond. "Well, if it helps, I'm real glad you're here. I missed you." Lucy Gray promises, leading him to the back door and swinging it open.

Your head turns at the appearance of Coryo's silhouette on the back stairs. You internally groan, of course Sejanus would bring him. "And you brought Coriolanus." You smile bitterly at your friend, sliding an ice cube from the bag across your bare collarbones over the shirt you had now cut the sleeves off completely to turn into a tube top.

"Yeah, well, I figured you might want to actually talk." Sejanus offers, raising an eyebrow at you.

"We wanted to make sure you were doing okay here. Living up to your high standards." Coryo replies for you.

"Do I look uncomfortable to you?" You ask, placing a hand on your hip. "Well, now you've seen it all. Thanks for coming, Coriolanus, but I'm clearly happy here, so you can be on your way. Don't you have a rebel to shoot at?"

"Hey, woah-" Sejanus chuckles, holding his hands out to you in mock surrender. "Y/N, we just wanted to visit. I know I speak for both of us when I say that we've missed you."

You sigh, rolling your eyes slightly. You were nothing if not polite, raised to be a flawless hostess in your own home. "Alright. Sit." You gesture to the patch of grass next to you, by the little garden you're digging into to start some fall flowers. You've always wanted to try a garden, but your family paid people to do that and you didn't have the time, so why would you?

Lucy Gray and Sejanus do most of the talking, and you try to avoid looking up much from the dirt you're digging up and the small seeds you're planting. Coriolanus is sitting too close to Lucy Gray for your comfort, but you've been working on your temper, and until he showed back up it was going really well.

"Lucy Gray!" Billy Taupe calls from the front of the house, drawing all of your attention. You'd seen more of him than you have cared to since you've been here, he just won't leave her alone.

"Oh lord, here we go." She huffs, standing up and brushing off her skirt.

"I'll come with you." Sejanus offers quickly, standing as well. You're reminded of how, apparently, he and Billy Taupe know each other but you still can't understand why. The two of them disappear around the side of the house, and you're left alone with Coriolanus.

You keep a straight face, continuing with your cycle. Dig a hole, move the dirt, bury the seed, water it, repeat.

"What are you planting?" He decides to break the silence, moving a little closer to you and leaning back on his palms.

"Flowers, some fruit." You mumble back, keeping your focus on your hands.

"Isn't it a bit late in the season?" He asks, head tilted as he watches you.

"Raspberries are perennials." You reply plainly. "And roses bloom until late fall, do they not?"

"They do." He nods in confirmation, smiling a little to himself. Raspberries and roses together. He wonders if you even know what you're doing, or if this was a subconscious yearning you didn't know you had; to be with him in every form.

"Then there's no harm in planting them now." You say, stopping to take a quick break. You lean back on your calves where you were kneeling, grabbing the ice bag that is now mostly melted to drink out of. You hold it out to Coryo when you're done, shaking it when he hesitates to take it from your hand. "Drink. It's hot, you'll get dehydrated quickly even just sitting out here."

Coryo takes it at that, looking away quickly when he catches that glimpse of pity in your eyes, the same look that plagued him in the weeks leading up the the games and after he thought you died. He hated it until then, but now, maybe it wasn't so bad. At least you were looking at him, and it seemed like it was some kind of inherent need you had to take care of him. The thought of that made his stomach flip.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you." You say suddenly, catching him so off guard he almost spits out his water. District life really must have been changing you, and it was worse than he imagined. It wasn't just the loose-fitting clothes that were one stitch away from falling off of your frame, however breathtaking they may somehow look. Now, Y/N Y/L/N was in the business of issuing apologies? Someone call a doctor. "I shouldn't have said... that. It was cruel."

Coryo nods slightly, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "I figured you didn't mean it."

"You were lucky they had already decided my guilt. I would have torn your head off by now, otherwise." That's the Y/N I know.

"Sejanus told me they were going to execute you."

"Well, not necessarily." You sigh, pulling your skirt back out of the way before digging your hands back into the dirt. "It wasn't stated, but it was service that was suggested. Possibly nursing, probably under my father back home. When I climbed out my window, they were discussing the possibility of having me turned into an Avox. Highbottom said I knew too much, but I know my father would rather shamelessly bury me than have his oldest turned into a symbol of rebellion." You explain, now seeing no harm in telling him the full story.

"What do you know, anyway?" Coriolanus asks. It had been bothering him for a long time, and up until a week ago, he thought you took those secrets to the grave.

"That he and my father are proprietors of the largest drug ring Panem has ever seen." You answer simply, a smug smile taking over your features as you press some dirt carefully over a planted seed. "The main storage is in a secret room in our wine cellar, an old bunker from the war. I stumbled into it when I was thirteen-ish. I mean, you wouldn't believe everything they had down there. I haven't seen anything like it. Actual gallons upon gallons of morphling, other addictive crap that'll ruin your life, even weed." You giggle, sitting back again to gesture with your hand how big everything is.

Coriolanus can feel his eyes going wide at your confession, and he stammers. "I- wow, uh..."

"Come on," You chuckle, tilting your head at him like it was obvious. "Doctors don't have that much power unless they're a game maker Like Gaul, or have that money to start. They make money, sure, but not like that."

"Well," He swallows, nodding slightly at the intake of information. "That explains you being able to walk all over Highbottom for so long." He chuckles. It all makes so much sense now, how both you and Highbottom have a seemingly endless supply of morphling on you, and your father had a decently sized sought-after medical practice, but nothing that could add up to the amount of power and influence he possessed back home. "And the weed you brought to Livia's seventeenth birthday party."

You laugh. "No one even knew what to do with it- we were all so damn sheltered." You hum, matching his smile. "Still, don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Wouldn't dream of it." He shakes his head.

"You sure? Because last I recall, you did snitch on me, Snow. And frame me, if I’m remembering correctly…"

Coryo sighs. "I know, I know... But I did mean what I said. I just- it was stupid, but I thought I could protect you. Genuinely."

You don't seem mad anymore, just smiling at him. "I know." You say, voice so sickly sweet and soft in a way he had only ever heard from you once before; when he was on the verge of a panic attack in the arena. You had told him that soon it would all be over, simultaneously you were right but you also couldn't have been more wrong.

You needed him to believe all was forgiven, and the small look of satisfaction on his face proves to you that it has worked. From here, the games were back on.

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , @lauravanderbooben20 , @dry0campa , @luclue , @lokidala , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world @nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey , @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just can't tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!

#tbosas #tbosas x reader #tbosas fic #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow #coryo snow #the hunger games #thg series #thg #thg fanfic #thg fanfiction

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doobea · 7 months

Text

DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR - REO MIKAGE

synopsis: Being a college student sucks. Having a crush on your best friend also sucks. Your best friend having a crush on your other best friend is . . . kinda the worst. In which, Reo is hopelessly in love with you but you’re hard crushing on Nagi.

-> MASTERLIST.

contents: reo centric, second lead syndrome feat. fem!reader & reo, heavy narration, also in an au where bluelock never happened LOL, starts from past -> present day, mentions of unrequited confessions, country farmgirl!reader -> stem major in college, insert anime cliche of riverbanks and convos about falling in love, kinda proofed word count: 4K (HUH??) a/n: i wrote this while listening to shoujo openings - lets try and find a song suited for these two (eventual) lovebirds, shall we? 'mini-series' my ass idk why the first chap came out so long??? whoops.

SUMMER TRIANGLE -> next.

Reo can’t pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with you.

He thinks it starts all the way back when you first transferred to Hakuho during his second year.

You were a quiet country girl whose parents had just moved to the big city all due to your father’s new job. And it was painfully obvious that it was your first time experiencing anything remotely ‘fancy’ when you came to school the first day. At the time, you were still wearing your old high school uniform, saying something about shipping getting delayed. Your skirt came almost all the way down to your ankles, your sweater vest had loose threads sticking around the edges, and your shirt still carried its creased marks.

To anyone in that school, you looked like an eyesore. Whispers about your family’s net worth, your relationship with the school’s faculty, and whether or not you cheated your way through the entrance exam began circulating.

From the moment you stepped inside the class, Reo knew you would get hell from the nation’s young elites. Reo thought by the end of the first quarter you would’ve dropped out and transferred to another school.

The first few months were rough, from what he observed. No one wanted to partner up with you for group projects, students would try to misplace your assignments, harsh messages were marred onto your desk earlier mornings before you arrived, and your gym clothes always went missing. But you stayed awfully silent, didn’t complain much, and quickly made yourself known to be the “weird, quiet farm girl”. Reo thinks everyone left you alone after you managed to score top ten in the class during finals week, despite the harassment. Still, even after all of that, no one bothered talking to you like normal and moved on to the next hot topic as if you were a dying trend.

Reo didn’t get the chance to talk to you much that year but, safe to say, he was pleasantly surprised to see you again the following semester. Instead of sitting all the way in the back of the classroom, you were seated by the windows. And the empty desk next to you? It was his.

Carefully, Reo placed his bag down on his desk, trying his best not to disturb whatever book you’re currently nose-deep in, and cleared his throat.

“Hi, I’m Reo Mikage,” he introduced himself and was taken aback when you stared at him with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape. He figured it was because he was one of the first to genuinely say anything to you without any malicious intent behind his words.

As you softly mumbled back your name, the gentle cadence as it escaped your lips, coupled with the swift turn of your head towards the window, Reo couldn't help but be enthralled by how soft your features looked in the sunlight. You’ve always kept your appearances simple, trying to not shine too much otherwise the other students would start talking again but, for some reason, all of that made Reo drawn to you more.

While you were deskmates, the two of you didn’t talk much outside of classroom-related topics. And it was always him starting the conversations, not that he minded. Him being close friends with Nagi, who was also a social outcast, made Reo slightly more curious about you ever since the new semester started. But you kept your distance, for obvious reasons. So, after a while, he reached out to you only out of necessity.

Fast forward two months and Reo is found slipping a party invitation on your desk. Well, not specifically yours, but everyone’s desks. Word of his father’s business migration with another classmate’s family company spread like wildfire before journalists had the chance to write up a meaningless article and Reo was forcefully instructed to invite his entire class to celebrate for the occasion.

So he did.

And, of course, everyone and their parents decided to show up. There were a few students that he didn’t recognize, probably snuck in through bribery or faked the invitation — not that he ultimately cared. There were more than a handful of mothers who had proudly flaunted themselves at his father and more than a dozen other student’s fathers trying to network with Reo.

At seventeen, Reo told himself that this was something he should’ve gotten used to by now, but it honestly felt horribly embarrassing every time. Reo blocked out the comments about the lack of ‘fancier food’ and ‘decor’ in his own home and retreated upstairs to his bedroom with Nagi trailing not far from behind.

“How long do you think they’re staying for?”

“Hm?” Nagi briefly looked up from his phone, eyes focusing on Reo’s perplexed expressions as he lay in bed. The male shifts around in Reo’s office chair and taps away at his device with a shrug in response. “Dunno, when the food and drinks run out maybe?”

Reo ran a hand through his hair, brows furrowing more as sounds from outside gradually grew louder. “This always ends up happening and I don’t understand why can’t he find a reception hall to throw this.” He paused, listened closely to the voices and conversations, and scoffed. “Do you know what they’re saying right now, Nagi?”

“Ah,” Nagi frowned as a deflated noise emitted from his phone, indicating he lost a match. He went into another queue and bounced his leg against the floor in waiting. “No, what are they saying out there?”

“That they think I’ll be together with Rika by the end of this year.” Reo launched his body upright at the thought, lips pursed tightly.

Again, Nagi doesn’t bother looking up. He just landed in a new match. “That heiress? Doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Since when do you know anything about types, Nagi?” Reo was half expecting Nagi to say something dumb relating to those terrible romance novel games that he sometimes plays.

The other male shrugged again, eyes flicking up this time. “Just doesn’t seem like it, that’s all.”

“You—”

The conversation abruptly ended with a single swing of the door. The door frame nearly collided with Nagi's face, accompanied by a high-pitched yelp. Reo had invited the whole class, but this was one of the people he hadn’t really expected to show up.

You were almost unrecognizable. Hair straightened, over blushed cheeks, a lipstick color that was too mature on you. The dress you wore hugged awkwardly to your sides and the height from your heels seemed to be too tall for you to maneuver around. From one glance, he knew you were uncomfortable.

You clung to the door handle, attempting to steady yourself, evident signs of mortification settling in. “S-Sorry, I was looking for the bathroom.”

Those words almost sounded foreign to Reo. The only times you’ve spoken to him were in curt, stoic sentences either about math or science assignments. He’d never seen you this flustered or worked up before.

Reo snapped out of his inner thoughts when Nagi decided to roll out from behind the door frame with a hand over his nose. Nagi looked unphased, but the familiar dull sound from his phone proved otherwise.

“Made me lose another round,” Nagi said simply and Reo watched as you fidgetted around, almost appearing self-cautious now.

“I’m sorry?” Was all you said in response.

Reo was about to hop out of bed, the bathroom directions loaded on his tongue, until a herd of footsteps followed by loud giggles was ascending the stairs. “Wait, close the door; I don’t want anyone coming in here.” The last thing he wanted was his classmates messing around with his personal belongings.

You appeared even more bewildered. “Um, I still need to—”

“He has a bathroom in his room, don’t worry,” Nagi interjected.

You were quick to believed Nagi's words and shut the door before heads peeked from the staircase. Reo shot his friend a questioning look as you shuffle your way to his bathroom and Nagi merely shrugged once again. Reo found himself thinking, finding that his plan of hiding away had just gotten a whole lot more complicated and awkward with you being in the picture. They both stayed quiet until you walked out, eyes facing everywhere but the two of them.

Reo's voice jolted you back to reality. “Sorry if this sounds rude but why are you here?” Okay, no matter how he would've phrased it, it did sound rude.

You didn't seem to mind it, probably already used to the harsh treatment. “My parents saw the invitation and got excited. They bought all these things for me last minute and dropped me off. I only said yes to coming because they were worried I wasn’t making any friends.” You explained, your steady nonchalant tone masking a layer of vulnerability.

Reo felt vaguely guilty at the response. Maybe he should've skipped your desk altogether? No, that would've been borderline bullying, he thought. Still, you shouldn't have been pressured to go.

“Did you want to hang out here instead?” Nagi casually offered up as if it was his house too. “We’re avoiding everyone else.”

“Nagi—!”

“What?” Nagi blinked at Reo in confusion, cocking his head slightly. “It’s written all over your face.”

He doesn't even know what expression he's making right now. All that Reo hoped was that you don't end up saying anything weird the next day. Not that he assumed you would be the type but, judging from how his guests acted earlier, he felt safer keeping his guard up.

There was a momentary pause, and then you gave a small nod, eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and relief. “Only if you’re fine with it.”

"Shouldn't matter to us," Nagi answered.

Reo considers this particular moment to be the turning point in your close friendship. It was his party, but almost everyone attending seemed to have forgotten his whereabouts soon after he disappeared.

At first, he was hesitant to talk about his thoughts or just about anything really, but Nagi didn't seem to care. As you and Nagi engaged in a somewhat awkward conversation about video games – or rather, Nagi half-scolding you for making him lose – Reo, after finally getting tired of listening, spent the remainder of the time venting about the various students and teachers at school.

That was nearly two years ago.

As the first year of college draws to a close, the three of you, on a spontaneous whim, decided to host a modest celebration in Reo and Nagi's shared apartment, only sending out invites to a handful of your close classmates.

You arrive about two hours before everyone else with the cake and drinks in hand, letting the door shut behind you as you rush into the kitchen. Nagi’s sitting on the countertop in the corner, attempting his best to unravel some of the cheesy party decorations that you insisted on getting, and Reo is pouring a weird red jello shot mixture into tiny plastic cups in the living room.

The three of you haven’t realized just how busy everything would be after starting college. Hangouts would only be frequent maybe once or twice a week, but everyone’s schedule was all over the place. You had your three-hour labs, Reo signed up to become Treasurer and President for two student organizations, and Nagi pretty much slept all day as soon he came back from lectures. Now, with this year finally coming to an end, Reo is finally looking forward to spending more time with everyone with summer nearing.

“Do we really need this many streamers?” Nagi is sighing as he swings his legs back and forth.

He managed to string a couple of them into long-wrapped strands but gave up halfway. There’s a bag of animal headbands next to him, so he fiddles with them next, claiming a bear-themed one for himself.

You set down the items on the counter and waltz over to his side, immediately fishing through the bag for your own pair. “We do and—,” Reo watches your lips upturn right as you reach over to Nagi, adjusting his headband and fixing his hair in the process. “—the bear suits you well.”

Nagi hums in thought and leans into your touch, seemingly unaware of your flustered state. “Think so?”

“I—uh yeah, you’re like a big bear sometimes…”

He helps you dig through the bag and pulls out a headband with cat ears. Without hesitation, Nagi tucks your hair back slightly and carefully places it onto your head. A satisfied faint smile makes its way onto his face. “It looks cute on you.”

Reo almost spills the remanding liquid all over the coffee table from the scene and breaks away from the before it evolves into something more. He hears you trying to say something back, maybe a ‘thank you’ or a compliment, but it comes out as incoherent noises and soft mumbles. And, although tonight is supposed to be reserved for a well deserved celebration, Reo can’t help but to think he doesn’t even feel like he belongs in his own apartment right now.

“What do you think, Reo?” Nagi calls out.

“What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t she look cute in them?”

Reo pours the last bits of the liquid into the cups and glances over. It takes everything in him to not turn the slightest shade of red because you look do look ridiculously cute in that headband.

He sticks out his tongue and blows a raspberry. “Looks the same to me.”

You roll your eyes and blow one back. “I was gonna assign you the bunny eared one but now you’re getting the rat.”

Reo chooses to not say anything back, not that it really mattered. He gets up and places the empty pitcher into the sink and focuses his attention to the dining room. The table is a bit messy, cluttered with stacks of his business textbooks and your forgotten stationary supplies. He has food catered that’ll be arriving within the next hour, so he spends this time cleaning and setting up the area.

Their dining room goes vastly unused with how often Reo and Nagi eat out. Because of this, Reo settled with a small table tucked in the kitchen corner that’s mainly used as a storage area rather than eating—so it’s kind of nice seeing it finally being used for its intended purpose.

It’s you, him, Nagi, Chigiri, Isagi, and Bachira that eventually congregate around the area. Before the party, Reo tells his friends not to bring any gifts or extra food, but they show up with them anyway. Chigiri brings over a really good sushi bake while Isagi and Bachira gift Reo a shitty Ouija board for whatever reason and… well the party is actually pretty nice.

Way different from all the other stuffy parties Reo grew up with and he thinks this might be the only party where he’s surrounded by people he cares about. No serious conversations about the family business or his future plans, just really lame attempts to call out whatever spirits Bachira thinks lives in their outdated fireplace.

“That was fun,” You say quietly after everyone else leaves.

The apartment is a little bit messy, even though Isagi did most of the heavy-duty cleanup. There are still some dishes piled up in the sink and confetti peppered all over the living area but Reo will procrastinate on that for tonight.

He’s sprawled on the couch, head thrown back as he melts his entire body weight onto the furniture, tired and socially drained for the night. He only looks to the side when you plop down in the tiny empty space next to him, face deep in thought and cheeks warm. Reo knows that look. He’s seen it maybe over a hundred times at this point.

It’s about Nagi Seishiro.

“I think I’m gonna do it tonight.” You’re whispering into his ear and Reo picks up on the sweet, subtle perfume laced around your neck. It seems like you had just applied it moments before coming over.

He forces a smile and glosses over a fake veil of excitement. “Oh, finally? You’re not going to chicken out like the last couple of times?”

You smack his arm, cheeks puffed out. “I’m not! I’m taking your advice for once. Better now than never, you know?”

“Yeah,” Reo says, maybe a bit too fast.

His mind is racing, along with the drumming in his chest, because you’re not joking around this time. The look in your eyes tells him that you’re serious and he feels really confused. Reo has been encouraging you since high school to get with Nagi and, now that you’re actually following through, he doesn’t know what to make of it.

Maybe it’s his ego, pride, or just plain possessiveness that’s driving him mad. But he knows better than to wish anything but happiness for his two best friends. Nagi, although more introverted and aloof, has become more open whenever you’re around and you two do make a good couple—at least that’s what Reo convinces himself.

He finds himself dozing off against the balcony railing outside on the apartment’s porch while you go off to find Nagi in his room. Reo scans the area, taking in the dim orange lights from the street lamps on campus and the warm inviting late spring breeze. It’s a decent distraction.

The college campus is really nice, an old one, with lots of mature trees, and stretches of green between the buildings, all connected with little cobblestone walkways. It’s almost like stepping back in time because Tokyo is a large, sprawling city. Reo decides he likes it. It’s way different from his past life, very jarring from his lavish big, but empty, mansion with butlers and maids alike, his old home was so different than this new, slower-paced way of life.

Reo’s over himself when hears the porch door slide from behind him, he doesn’t need to turn around to know that it’s you. And, judging from the way your body flops against the railing, he concludes that it didn’t go well. It’s strange, he thought Nagi would’ve reciprocated the feelings back at least a little bit. Reo makes a mental note to privately ask his friend about it later.

He avoids your gaze and continues to stare at the city skyline in the distance, waiting for you to say the first word.

After a while, you sigh. “Do you… do you think he’ll be uncomfortable around me?”

Reo feels his heart stuttering in his chest. “Of course not,” He answers quickly and relaxes when he sees the frown on your features slowly disappearing. “Nagi’s not the type to easily throw away a good friendship.” Reo knows that by heart.

You groan and bury your face into your palms, shrinking more into your oversized campus hoodie. “I’m so dumb, Reo…” Your voice comes out muffled and strained. “I should’ve never said anything.”

Reo wrestles with the thought that he’s an asshole for thinking quite the opposite. On one hand, he's relieved that you got rejected, but on the other hand, witnessing your heart break doesn't make things any easier for him. He’s still your friend at the end of the day.

He refrains the urge to extend his arms, grab your shoulders, and draw you into the warmth of his chest. Suppressing the desire to run his fingers through your hair, tenderly massage your scalp, and whisper that everything will be okay—that he's by your side. Instead, Reo opts for a laugh, presenting you with his credit card. “Let’s set him aside for a moment and concentrate on you.”

You peer up from your sleeves, immediately widening your eyes in disbelief and then shooting him a half-glare. “I’m not gonna be spending your money, Reo. You can’t fix a broken heart with that.”

“Yeah,” Reo softly agrees, face crescent fallen briefly before recovering. He shuffles towards you, just close enough so that your shoulders touch. “But I know where we can go.”

Your eyes sparkle at the idea, already knowing the exact location Reo is mentioning. There’s a quaint riverbank not too far from the campus and high school, the one that you would always go to whenever you’re feeling overwhelmed or upset. Reo knows that it reminds you of home, the countryside, and listening to the steady streams helps calm your nerves.

With Nagi likely cooped up in his room, the two of you sneak out of the apartment, and the night air wraps around you both like a comforting blanket.

By the time you two arrive at the riverbank, you find a comfortable spot to lie down near the top of the hill. Reo joins next to you, the cool grass beneath him contrasting with the warmth of his body. Slowly, the heaviness that lingered from earlier begins to dissipate.

Reo lies on his side, the night enveloping the two of you in a cocoon of solitude. His voice, gentle and warm, breaks the silence, "Hey," he faintly calls out your name. Patiently, he waits until your body turns to mirror his, until you're just inches away, and the distant sounds of passing cars fade into the background.

It annoys him how clueless you are, how you’re able to be physically bold and unapologetically yourself when around him but, when it comes to Nagi, you turn into a stuttering, blushing mess. He selfishly wishes to have that all to himself. “Why don’t you fall in love with me instead?”

Reo watches your eyes widen, mirroring the same motions you did when he first introduced himself to you, and your body reacts first before you’re able to construct words. You kick him, admittedly harder than he would’ve liked, followed by an immediate apology.

“That was a joke, right? Like a really, really, really bad joke?”

Pretending not to feel the pang in his chest, Reo rubs his shin and forces a chuckle, his arm thrown over his face to conceal any hint of redness that might betray him in the night. “Yeah, thought it would cheer you up somehow,” he lamely replies.

The sound of your huff and shuffling suggests you turned away, likely out of annoyance. Reo senses a momentary pause, and he thinks you might be on the verge of tears again until you murmur, “Love is so complicated.”

A twitch courses through him and he swallows hard against a lump in his throat before joining the conversation, “People do a lot of things when they’re in love. You confessing to Nagi tonight was out of love.”

“Yeah, I just wished it was easy to… I guess, understand.”

“Love happens randomly and doesn’t need reasons. If love was easy to understand then most of our world’s problems would go away.”

“Have you ever been in love, Reo?”

"I have," he answers truthfully. As you shuffle some more, he peeks from under his arm to find your face wide, brimming with curiosity. Reo sets his arm aside and smirks. "What makes you think I’m gonna tell you?"

You’re toying with the hem of your hoodie, looking like you’re about to jump to your feet. “Because I just got my heart broken tonight and I feel like maybe the least you can do is tell me who you like?”

“Let me think,” Reo fake ponders for a few seconds and then shakes his head. “Nah, don’t think so.”

You kick him again, this time very softly. “You’re no fun,” you whine, but there’s something so sincere to it that Reo’s heart aches again. “Can you at least tell me when you fell in love?”

His laugh comes out weak and hoarse, feeling the sudden need to look away but he doesn’t. Reo stares straight into your eyes because he knows that no matter how hard he tries, you’ll never get it unless he spells it out for you. “I became aware of it when I was sitting next to them.”

You start laughing, as he expected, but it's lighthearted and innocent. Reo doesn't feel insulted—at least not yet. “It was love at first sight?”

He's definitely a tomato right now, he can feel it in his face. “More like first interaction...” Reo mumbles out, now facing the river.

“Well, whoever they are, they're lucky to have someone like you crushing over them.”

“Yeah, I guess they are lucky.”

TAGLIST - OPEN

@celestair @kitorin @popponn @yoisami @anurst @katsukiiishoe @yuzurins @vitaniangel-blog @kunikame @miwafei @astruoise @faeroow @wooasecret @limerence-lu @jaynawayna

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #doobea writing #reo mikage x reader #reo mikage #DAYTIME SHOOTING STAR - REO MIKAGE

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wandasfifthwife · 3 months

Text

Din Djarin | misunderstandings

Din Djarin x fem!reader

tw: pinning after each other, sorta confessions, misunderstandings, reader used to be mandalorian, reader gets a bit insecure, din is confused, mentions a past-gunshot wound, hurt/comfort, happy ending

a/n: idk if this fandom alive anymore but I still love this man sooo, enjoyment is wished upon whomever this lands upon. This is shit writing and I’m so sorry. I’ll re-read and edit later (if you read and enjoy this now… thank you for loving me at my lowest fr)

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You’ve been on his ship now for almost a year, the months feeling like they were slowing down the further time went by. He originally treated you like a co, only asking what was needed, very obviously separating you from his personal life.

The ship had crashed some time ago, the both of you stranded on a desert planet for almost two months. Something had shifted, changed, and it got worse. The air felt thinner when he was close and your heart would pound.

You felt he cared to listen when you began to share small details about you like where you grew up, what scares you, how you got a scar on your forearm. You felt he began to change too.

“cyar’ika,” his tone is straightforward, “go to bed, you’re just straining your muscles now.”

It scared you when he began to use that instead of your name. You were too frightened to ask what it meant. The only tone he speaks in is monotone and he wears a helmet, it’s hard to read him. Everytime you think you begin to understand, you feel him slipping further away.

You hear a banging sound, one that happened because you drop the boxes from your grip.

“Was only trying to help,” you quip, stepping beside him to enter into the ship.

He shuts the door behind you, asking about the kid. You arrange the boxes so they’re out of the way, “he fell asleep minute after you left.”

He hums, the sound muffled slightly from his helmet. You stand near him to try and get the last package, though with the distance and your strength the box ends up falling to the ground and on your foot. You almost go still from the pain, chest growing tight as you tried to work through the pain. The mandalorian takes the box off of your foot as soon as it fell, a hiss sounding from him.

His body is tense when you try to walk, obvious pain showing on your face. He’s oblivious to how it cringes even more at the name. Sitting yourself down, you cradle your foot, tears coming to your eyes and you blink them away. The sight of tears startles him.

“Your injury, is it hurting that—?”

“No,” you cut him off, “I’ll be fine, I think it just bruised it.”

He offers you a hand, “ner sarad. Get off the floor.”

You swat it away and attempt to get up on your own. How stupid could you be? He’s only ever called you these names in an accusing manner. You had hope, but now that you’re looking back, you’ve lost it.

Last week he used it when you had gotten shot in the shoulder after chasing him for hours. About a month ago you remember him using his language in an angry manner when you argued.

A quiet sob escaped you, “why are you always getting angry at me?” You go limp when his hands come under you, lifting you so he can place you down on his bed. You’re stuck between wanting to push him away and pulling him closer to you. He works on removing your shoe and lifting your pant leg with a sigh.

“The words I’ve been using are terms of endearment,” he gently rubs his thumb over the already forming bruise, “cyar’ika means beloved.”

“I thought you were cursing my name out, using them as expressions of anger.”

“I started using them since you mentioned you were mandalorian once.”

He pats your thigh, getting off the ground to grab the medical supplies. You wince as he wraps your foot tightly, “I was, but we’ve never used those terms. We only called one another by our given name. I didn’t know those words existed.”

“And I’m a fool for assuming your clan was the same as mine.”

“Not a fool,” you smile at him, “you were trying to flirt and I interpreted it as sarcasm. I’m the fool.”

He stands, a hand coming to cup your cheek, “I can teach you, ner kar’ta.”

Your hand covers his, a shiver going through you at the warm feeling of his glove, “what is ner kar’ta?”

“My heart.”

#mando x reader #mando #the mandaloria/reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #hurt/comfort #reader is female #mando x fem!reader #din djarin x fem!reader

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solomons-finest-rum · 1 year

Note

Hello to one of my favourite Alfie fic writers! Since you're taking requests, I'd like to make one as well.

I don't know how it works but how about a scenario/imagine where Tommy gets in some kind of trouble (as always) and Alfie suggests that his lovely gangster wife could help and goes to introduce them but as it turns out it's none other than the Shelby's sister/cousin/relative/friend/or maybe even an ex? (Your call one this one) who they thought was dead or something?

Idk if it's even worth your time and effort but I just wanted to make a request ;) No pressure, of course!

Love you and your writing a lot!

“As The Crow Flies” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 1

SUMMARY — By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you to @zablife for being the most gracious beta!💗💗💗💗💗 and thank you Anon for this request, because actually it inspired a full-blown multi-chapter idea! So this is set around... Season 5 I suppose? But I'm going to ignore everything in it and Season 6 too. Let's pretend none of it happened and just focus on the fun part! That is driving Tommy insane and making Alfie say outrageous lines.

WORD COUNT — 2,286

Masterlist

In retrospect, Tommy Shelby felt he should have known better. He should have fucking known that the moment, the moment, he came to Margate to sort the bloody situation out, exactly two things would happen.

One, he would have to sit and listen with a straight face to Alfie’s inspired monologue, the subject of which had swerved from elephants to bank robbery in about two and a half minutes, and then managed to touch upon just about everything else under the sun.

Tommy remained quite sure that the sense of Alfie’s rambling had been long lost to history and the point of it all was just to talk him to death, really. Put him out of his misery with nonsense alone.

“Now then, Tommy, as I said, right, I ain’t the vindictive type, I really ain’t, so I am gonna help ya out just this once, right, outta the goodness of my own heart.”

Tommy managed not to roll his eyes. Barely.

“‘Cause I am a changed man these days, Tommy, an’ it can be that the old man that I am, I’m goin’ soft on ya, right, an’ so tradition dictates, mate, to ask for more than ten thousand for my troubles.”

Tommy raised a brow.

“But as things currently stand with the medical bills, on the account of bein’ shot in the face by some cunt, right… Fifteen would sound proper fair, mate.”

Thank fuck for small mercies, Tommy thought, then lit another cigarette and promptly got up to leave. Alfie apparently managed to settle both sides of the conversation, negotiations included, and their American problem could very well sort itself out all on his own—thus proving to Tommy once more that the only thing he could really count on in this world had always been lunatics.

“Right, the fuck you’re doin’ now, sit down!”

Tommy frowned and remained standing, cigarette in the corner of his mouth and sheer outrage emanating from his entire person. The question of “what in fuck’s name do you want now, you crazy bastard?” overtook his face.

“Right, I need to make a bloody phone call,” Alfie said then, which explained exactly nothing.

Yes, that was the second thing Tommy had been so sure would happen. Alfie would first go on a tangent, then formulate a plan that involved three separate layers of deception, a bribe, and a crate of dynamite (probably).

Then Tommy would get caught in the middle as bloody always and Polly would have his head for going along with Alfie’s plan in the first place.

What he didn’t expect was for Alfie to change his tone of voice completely as soon as the person picked up on the other end:

“Yeah, darlin’, it’s me. Come to the house, alright? Right, ‘cause I need ya here for somethin’. No, not like the— Bloody hell, woman, just don’t fuckin’ argue with me for once, alright?”

Sometimes a rare occasion would present itself for Tommy Shelby to become fucking speechless. Truth be told, he remained rather surprised that two such occasions had also involved Alfie Solomons, undoubtedly purely for the Devil’s bloody amusement.

“Who was that then, Alfie?”

“None of ya fuckin’ business.”

Tommy had a sneaky feeling there wasn’t a clever enough question in existence that could have pushed Alfie to say anything more. He looked smug as hell for having pulled that stunt off so Tommy was willing to see it through.

For old time’s sake.

The sun was setting and they had another drink, then Tommy let Alfie go on another tangent about… Tea import. Perhaps. Who knew, he wasn’t really listening.

On drink three Tommy was alerted by a car pulling up to the house, followed by a door slam and a rhythmic clacking of high heels on the porch. Tommy looked to Alfie, but the man remained infuriatingly calm.

Just as Tommy was about to reach for his gun, the door to Alfie’s study opened unceremoniously and a scent of expensive perfume wafted across the room. Tommy turned around and tried his best to keep up the indifferent facade, but failed miserably. Nothing could have prepared him for you walking through that door, with a giant bodyguard no less, following you like a second shadow.

“Alright there, Billy?” Alfie greeted the bodyguard casually and the man grunted in response. “Right then, might ya wait in the car for us, mate? This whole bloody business will take a minute.”

Tommy then watched as Alfie approached you and planted an affectionate kiss to your cheek, at which point Tommy stood up abruptly.

For a moment he just stood there and stared; a state he didn’t find himself in too often these days.

“Darling, are we having guests?” you asked Alfie in a tone so familiar to Tommy; so like your mother. Pleasant, on the verge of sarcastic.

By God, either that Camden bastard was a magician or you had a twin sister that Polly never mentioned. Because it wasn’t possible… It couldn’t be you. Not according to the file he stole from the parish. By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

“Right then, Tommy, might I present my lovely wife,” Alfie said. “Sweetie, this here is Tommy Shelby, right, all the way from the ungodly place they call Birmingham—”

“Tommy Shelby?” you interrupted and looked at Tommy with a smile so like Polly’s that Tommy nearly lost his composure again. “My, my… And there you went and promised you were done with the life, Alfie.”

“Right, an’ how could that—”

“Anna,” Tommy interrupted what he was sure was a budding monologue from Alfie.

“Yes?” you asked. “You know my name?”

“I… Know your mother.”

“Know?” There it was again. That curious smirk of yours that could really mean anything. Tommy found it harder and harder to keep up the charade.

“But that’s not possible, Mr. Shelby.”

“What’s not possible?”

Your tone remained polite, but your dark eyes said it all. The expression of quiet resolve Tommy thought only one person capable of delivering with such resentment.

“I’m an orphan, Mr. Shelby.”

Tommy said nothing to that, because what in hell could he even say? All of a sudden the American issue faded into nothingness, replaced solely by the phantom standing before him.

“So you did not lie, I see,” you turned to your husband with a quizzical expression, seeing as Tommy went quiet again. “He really is as strange as the papers make him. No matter, though, Mr. Shelby, I hope you like chicken? My husband insists I’m a terrible cook, but you must stay for dinner.”

Tommy nodded mechanically and put out his cigarette just to busy his hands with something. When he looked at Alfie, though, Tommy noticed how the man’s mouth twitched, clearly indicating the scheme was playing exactly how he wanted it to. Mad bastard, Tommy thought. There was no saying if he was being played or tricked or helped. Probably all at once, but solely for Alfie’s benefit of course.

“Right, curious as I am, luv, what delectable fuckin’ option you maimed and butchered for dinner, Tommy isn’t stayin’—” Alfie then stopped himself when two sets of identical Shelby scowls got directed his way.

Tommy did stay for dinner and made sure to clean his plate, too. He didn’t mind the food at all; it reminded him of Polly’s simple cooking back in the day when she would take care of Tommy and his siblings in Small Heath.

The more he listened to you talk and bicker with Alfie, the more of your mother he saw in you and the angrier he got at seeing you here of all places, as Alfie’s wife, unable to speak to you in plain terms. Tommy wasn’t exactly sure which made him angrier, though—the fact that you were Alfie’s wife or the fact that the sly bastard had kept you from your true family for who knows how many years. How did he even find you?

All the questions he had were still swirling around in Tommy’s head and he wasn’t particularly paying attention to anything else, besides staring daggers at Alfie. He was hoping there would be a moment to talk to you alone, but of course your husband would never allow it. He watched Tommy like a hawk the entire evening, sometimes with just a hint of a smile to suggest he was still three steps ahead of everyone else.

“See you never got accustomed to that fancy cookin’ they’re offerin’ ya at the mansion these days, Tommy,” Alfie said, undoubtedly truly enjoying the charade. “Tommy’s an MP, darlin’, right about two steps from gettin’ a knighthood I reckon. Yeah, a real prince he is.”

The way Alfie said the word was so clearly a jab at Tommy’s ancestry that he didn’t even flinch. What he was curious about was your reaction, but you remained perfectly pleasant:

“Don’t tease, love, we haven’t had guests in ages and I’m not letting you drive this one away.”

When the maid took away the plates, you lit a cigarette in a swift overdone gesture and Tommy was once more taken aback with your resemblance to Polly.

“Well, I’ll leave ya both to it,” you announced as you got up. “It was a pleasure, Mr. Shelby.” You extended your hand and Tommy shook it. “I know you tried your best with the chicken and I appreciate it,” you paused and tilted your head to the side as if sizing Tommy up.

“I rarely trust your husband’s judgement,” he replied.

The way you smiled reminded Tommy of a cat that got into the pantry. He decided not to think about it too much.

“I see. Goodnight then, Mr. Shelby.”

As soon as Tommy heard you got upstairs, he turned to Alfie who, unsurprisingly, already had a gun pointed at him. It was a casual way of it that was the most infuriating—Alfie’s hand was more so resting on the table and the gun just happened to be there, pointing at Tommy.

“Now then, Tommy, let’s be reasonable about this, mate.”

Tommy clenched his jaw and remained silent, but his murderous glare said it all.

“There are four people at the house, right, includin’ you, me, my wife, then the maid… Then there’s Billy outside, right, who’s gonna be rightly worried once he doesn’t get my dismissal for the night. So I want ya to be real cold an’ calculated about it, Tommy, just like I know ya can be, ‘cause if ya decide to off me for no reason now…”

“No reason.”

“Right.”

“You’re old enough to be her father.”

“Yeah an’ fortunately I’m not, ‘cause that’d be right fuckin’ awkward at the temple, mate.”

“Temple?”

“What’d ya think, Tommy, that I smacked her over the head and dragged her into my cave?”

“Somethin’ like that.”

“Right, we’ll have to show ya the pictures then, she looked stunnin’.” Alfie leaned back in his chair. “Tell ya what, mate, why don’t ya come by for tea one day?”

“Tea.”

“Yeah. We have it, Tommy, we’re not animals.”

Tommy said nothing to that. He was still reviewing his options, but as he wasn’t a fan of spontaneous action, the patient approach seemed appropriate. The offer, though, just like everything else about the situation, was fucking infuriating.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Fuck you, Alfie.”

That finally made Alfie smile and for some reason he lowered the gun.

“Right, so seein’ as we’re family, Tommy, and what a happy coincidence this is, I must say, I feel like we should talk fuckin’ proper. None of that shit.” Alfie then gestured between them as if he hadn’t been responsible for “that shit” in the first place.

“We’ve been talking, Alfie,” Tommy deadpanned.

“Yeah, but then there’s still somethin’ ya haven’t told me about your American troubles, isn’t there, mate, so I’m expectin’ you’ll be more honest with me in the future. Now that I’ve brought the right arguments to the table…”

The hint of a threat in that statement almost made Tommy wish he still had his razor cap around.

“She’s Polly’s only daughter, Alfie.”

“Right, I’m aware of that.”

Tommy nodded, feigning understanding between them. As always, handling Alfie very much resembled handling a live grenade without a pin.

“This can’t be the way to end things.”

“Who’s endin’ things, Tommy?”

“I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, an’ I’m going to let this one slide, Tommy, ‘cause you just got a lot to process, mate, so I’m prepared to be understandin’.”

Tommy shook his head and reached into his jacket pocket, at which Alfie uncocked the gun. Tommy slowly pulled out his cigarette box, but Alfie never even flinched. It was gruesomely reassuring to still have been right, even in the position that Tommy currently found himself in.

Alfie Solomons would always remain Alfie Solomons, even with the whole song and a dance about getting old and senile. He was still the same mad bastard Tommy came to know all those years ago, and as things stood, Tommy found himself wondering if this time he shouldn’t try poison instead of a bullet.

“Tommy,” Alfie sighed, “with three good eyes workin’ between us, mate, I really would greatly mind if I somehow acquired a fuckin’ tumour in my lungs, too.”

Tommy said nothing and he knew Alfie hated it.

“Which means put that shit out, mate, and listen to what I’m about to say, ‘cause I got a feeling you’ll really wanna hear it.”

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy x reader

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literallyjusttoa · 10 months

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My top 7 Apollo exes from Ancient Greece

DISCLAIMER: Though I have done a lot of research of mythology for this, it is based off of the riordanverse version of Apollo. I won't be acknowledging any awful implications in versions of these myths, not because I don't think they're important, but because it simply isn't a part of riordanverse Apollo's characterization in the books. Also I'm not going to mention Copollo. I love Copollo like the rest of you, but sadly that is a Rick Riordan exclusive, and also technically Commodus is an ex from Ancient Rome, not Ancient Greece :3

Ok with that out of the way lets talk obscure and non-obscure Apollo relationships

7. Apollo & Thyia

This one clocks in at number 7 because I love the idea behind it, but it is the most bare bones relationship myth wise. All we really know is Thyia is a priestess of Dionysus and she and Apollo maybe had a kid once. But like, the idea of Apollo dating his brother's priest? Hilarious, A+ stuff. Also, Thyia isn't just one of Dionysus' priests, she is THE priest of Dionysus. She runs his temple in central greece, is thought to have offered the first sacrifice to him, and might have been the first Maenad? Either way this relationship must have been insane. Also she's a nymph so she's definitely still kicking out there, would love for these two to meet again.

6. Apollo & Hyacinthus

Ok ok I know what y'all are thinking. Number 6?? This is like Apollo's number 1 most tragic relationship of all time!!! And yes as an angst lover I do enjoy the pain this relationship brings our boy, but I just feel like there's not many places to go with this relationship besides what we already have. Like Apollo and Hyacinthus were kind of the perfect couple. Which, like, great for them, but it doesn't give me much space to add anything? I guess, great ship, no notes.

5. Apollo & Hypermnestra (& Oikles)

Ok, half the reason this is here is because her name is Hypermnestra. Slay. But also this is a great place to bring up my favorite little headcanon. In a lot of Apollo's relationships, there will be a child, and myths will have different versions with different fathers. Some say it's Apollo, while other's say it's whoever he dated's husband. In this case, myths disagree on whether Amphiaraus was Apollo's son or the son of Hypermnestra's husband, king Oikles (Oikles??? I love these names). The implication here is infidelity, but I disagree. No, I think every time there's confusion over who parentage it's because Apollo was dating both the woman he's said to be with and her husband, and therefore no one knows who ended up, y'know, fathering the child. Anyways Apollo dated both Hypermnestra and Oikles and you can't convince me otherwise.

4. Apollo & Branchus

I like this relationship because in my mind, I always thought it was Apollo's first. In one version of their myth, it is said that Apollo met Branchus after leaving Delos as a dolphin, which I always thought implied this was soon after he established Delphi, which was really early on. Idk something about a young Apollo accidentally revealing his godliness to this boy he really likes is just so sweet to me. And he makes Branchus into a prophet, which is so cool! These two are cutie-patooties is what I'm saying.

3. Apollo & Kyparissos

C'mon, the man died of grief because his deer died. Throughout ToA we learn that deep down Apollo is a mushy ball of emotions and compassion, and that convinced me that these two spent 75% of their relationship crying over baby animals and pretty people. I love the idea of Apollo dating someone who's honestly just as much of a loser as he is. And while it is sad that Kyparissos is another lover Apollo had to turn into a plant, I have to emphasize again that he died of heartbreak, because his pet deer died.

2. Apollo & Cyrene

Listen, these two are boss bitches and you cannot convince me otherwise. In the same way I like Kyparissos bc I feel like he and Apollo are so similar, I like Cyrene bc I feel like, in a lot of ways, these two are very different. Like, don't get me wrong, Apollo can be strong and wild when he wants to be, but Cyrene wrestles lions. I like to think the time these two spent together really helped each of them grow in their own way, which makes for a really fun and interesting relationship. Also, just like Thyia, Cyrene is sometimes referred to as a nymph, so she could still be out there!

1. Apollo & Admetus

The more I think about these two, the more I love them. Admetus meeting Apollo at his lowest and helping him through it. Apollo falling head over heels as a result and doing everything in his power to repay the man. The two of them still holding such strong affection for each other even decades after the time they had together, to the point that Apollo would mess with fate to extend Admetus' life. Apollo's life is full of turmoil, and this period of it was probably the worst, but despite that, his relationship with Admetus seems so steady. The other gods are said to be embarrassed of Apollo's love of Admetus, and I think it's because Apollo loved him in a way that went directly against the values of the gods. Apollo and Admetus' relationship was defined by service and care, filled with selfless intent and genuine love. While many gods give their lovers gifts and special favors, the idea of actually going into servitude for someone you love is as ungodly as you can get. Apollo spent time with Admetus, and he wasn't possessive of him, helping him to find a wife after their time together was through. I think this relationship is a great example of how Apollo, even in his lowest moments, is a genuine and caring person, and how that often separates him from the rest of his family. Also these two are just cute and they both love cows and they're cows in love.

#trials of apollo #toa apollo #lester papadopoulos #sunny speaks #long post #this idea hit me out of nowhere and I had to do it #shut up sunny #lmk if I convinced yall to ship anything because some of these pairing have given me brainrot

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