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no-droids · 3 years

Text

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

Warnings: SMUTTTTT, following/stalking, some fluffy moments but mostly just a lil action and interaction, I don’t think there’s any other warning besides language and the smut (comm sex WITH A TWIST YALLLLL) but if you happen to find something else that warrants a tag, please let me know and I will do so accordingly!

A/N: The response to this story has grown beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined and I genuinely thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the privilege of writing for you. Hope this one ends up being okay and I’ll get to work on the next chapter soon!

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

The sky is so pretty. There isn’t much to look at on the surface—rolling hills and plains, grassy but with dry bare spots breaking up the green stretches, but the sky. It’s an oil painting above you, pastel swishes of yellows and pinks and purples with an enormous ringed planet taking up half the horizon and another sizable moon hanging high.

You should probably be running. Like, for real sprinting, but you can’t push yourself to go faster than a brisk walk. It’s so… free out here, more hills springing up every time you get to the top of the next, warm air filling your lungs. Even though you know realistically that the beginning will likely be the hardest—where you need to focus most on running and putting distance between you instead of hiding—truth be told, you’re not foreseeing making it more than a full day. You’re going to try, obviously, but in the grand scheme, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he finds you tomorrow. So, instead of wasting all your energy going as fast as you physically can right out of the gate, you just decide to stroll and think for a little bit.

You know what your goal is. Obviously, to last as long as you can, but more specifically… well, if Din is going to chase after you, then he’s going to try to think like you. Anticipate your movements, if he can’t already see the tracks you leave plain as day. Very soon, he’ll be walking this same exact pathing, following the footprints you’re leaving behind, but if you’re ever able to shake him or throw him off course, he doesn’t have a tracking fob. He doesn’t have any mechanical device that points him in your direction—if you can lose him with the footprints, then he’ll have to rely solely on predicting you. Which means you need to think… exactly the opposite of yourself if you want to outsmart him.

That’s harder than it sounds though, because… is he going to predict you predicting him? At what point does it stop? You somehow have trouble seeing this as an advantage the way he said it would be—you almost wish you had someone else chasing you, someone you didn’t know and someone who didn’t know you if only so this paradox could end before it begins.

You’re walking for about ten minutes before spotting a dirt road in the distance. There’s a person following it in the direction of the sun—you don’t know this planet’s magnetic field but you do know it’s after noon and the sun would set on Arvala-7 in the west, so that’s what you’ll call it for now. You call out to them as soon as you’re in range, and the stranger turns to you.

“Excuse me!” It’s a woman, you see it as you get closer. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but can you tell me where this road leads?”

She removes a sheer yellow shawl covering her dark hair and gives you a friendly smile. “Hello,” the lady greets, before spinning around and pointing back the way she came. “Osiruu is a few hours that way. There’s not much there, but it will take you to G’ila, a transport hub with many opportunities for drifters, or Nariss, the capital. I’m on my way to Shabeth,” she points in the other direction. “It’s far—a day’s walk, but it’s a holy place and offers quite the view. I would be glad for the company, but I understand its lack of practical appeal.”

So this place is safe enough to be inviting strangers along on your travels, noted. You’re going to have to make the decision right now, then. Which path should you take?

Something deep inside you tells you that you want to see this holy place, and just from a few sentences, you already like this woman and feel safe with her. But then all of a sudden, you remember something.

Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry, Din’s voice drifts back to you, sounding soft and distant from the dark forests of Naboo. Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people. Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring. But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists. The ones that don’t ever put up a fight.

You suppose you should decide what kind of quarry you want to be. Friendly company and a view is something you normally crave—it’s something your soul speaks to after going without it for so long during your previous life. You never pictured yourself as the fighting type. When Din first asked you, you told him you wouldn’t run from him if he was chasing you, and choosing to accompany this kind stranger to her destination is essentially just that. Sacrificing a chase for a pretty view.

“Does Shabeth have a sizable population?” You ask her, and she shakes her head.

“It’s the sight of an annual pilgrimage that happens in a few months, but it’s beautiful there and I like to go whenever I can,” she tells you with a soft smile. “But there’s nothing for miles outside it, I’m afraid.”

Your footprints will lead directly there. He’ll find you easily.

“It sounds very nice, but I need to find somewhere with a lot of people,” you give her an apologetic smile. Truly, you think she would’ve made for a nice friend. “Thank you for your help, though, and good luck with your journey! I hope we meet again.”

“Do you need any food or supplies?” She asks you, and you stop short of passing her by. “I don’t have much with me, but know what it’s like to be a newcomer to Sanctuary II. I’d be glad to help.”

Good Maker, is this how everybody is here or did you just hit the jackpot with this lady? She seems like… you, almost. Her voice is gentle, she looks like she’d give nice hugs. You’re about to politely turn her down, but then you realize the brilliant opportunity that’s presented itself in her image.

“Actually, this might sound like a really strange question, but…” you tell her, before looking down at her feet. “Wanna trade shoes with me?”

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

You don’t think it’ll work, but as you walk into a small settlement a few hours later in a unfamiliar and worn pair of sandals, you decide that you’ll need to do this as often as possible. You can’t come up with anything else that’ll throw him off your physical trail besides constantly switching shoes—is that bad? Are you just an idiot with no hope? You’ve had—you check your watch—like, five hours to think of a game plan, and all you’ve come up with is shoes? You’re screwed.

At least there’s food here. Plenty. There’s vendors stationed along the street, multiple people passing by and going about their business. Osiruu, that nice woman said—not much here, but you think she was wrong. There’s children giggling and jumping rope on the corner, a shopkeeper sweeping her storefront, a graying man with an empty cup plucking an unfamiliar melody on an unfamiliar instrument—and while your tummy growls and you know you should quickly buy supplies and be on your way, you still stop for just a few minutes to listen.

It’s a lovely tune. You drop a few credits in his cup after he finishes and find yourself humming it as you look at the plethora of goods being offered by the vendors. Water, food—you buy enough of everything to sustain you for at least a couple days, not wanting to go hungry but also feeling realistic over optimistic. The cuisine is foreign and you just point to things that look appetizing since you’re not sure about the name or pronunciation, but after paying and taking a bite into a rather large piece of purple fruit, your eyes nearly cross at how sweet and tasty it is. Holy Maker, that might just be the best thing you’ve ever tasted. You ask for two more after you finish the first, tucking one in your backpack next to your blaster and munching on the other as you keep browsing.

Suddenly you see shoes—yes. Fucking shoes, your salvation. You take a good look at all your options, of which, there aren’t many. Generic men's, women's, and children's, all in the same color and design. It’s good in a way—you see most people walking around in the same type of clothing here and you pray there’s not a way for him to track your gait or the whole thing is a bust, but truthfully, what you’re most worried about is the fact that you’ll create a brand new set of footprints wherever your old ones disappear. Unless you trade with someone else, you won’t ever have a back pathing, you know that Din will probably be able to easily spot it.

“Three pairs of these, please,” you point to the correct shoes and tell him your size, but then—“Oh wait, actually, can I actually have one of them that’s the next size up? And another that’s the same but in men's?”

The man behind the counter gives you an odd look but acquiesces, measuring the size of your preferred pair to multiple men’s shoes to find one that looks roughly the same—you doubt he’s ever had a request like this, but you’re also a generous tipper. His smile is grateful when you tell him to keep the change and then you’re stuffing the new shoes into your backpack and moving onward.

Would there be some kind of map here, you wonder? One that shows distance so you won’t waste time trying to reach a place you won’t be able to walk to? That lady said a transport hub and the capital are through this settlement, but she didn’t provide much information beyond that. You don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere when he finally catches up to you, you’ll need some place to hide.

When you stop to ask an elderly gentleman as he passes by, he freely provides you a basic gist. There’s a large forest beyond Osiruu—after it will be a road that passes through a few notable places, with a town called Sijua to the west that leads north to G’ila, and Devain to the east that leads northeast to Nariss. Both are within walking distance, though it may take a couple days to reach your destination.

Alright then. Through the forest, you suppose. You probably should’ve asked which way is east, but he’s already leaving and you don’t have the nerve to ask him to stop again. You have a finger point, that’s all you need. Making sure to use one of the small restrooms near the square before heading out, you eventually decide to make your way towards the direction he said this forest would be.

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

You’re not going to take it, of course, but it’s the perfect solution to the problem you’ve been mulling over. It’s at the very edge of the small settlement, and you quickly speed up into a half-jog as soon as you hear its engine running.

“Last call for the seven o’clock!” A large man stationed near the doors yells as you approach. “Last bus to G’ila until tomorrow!”

The sun is setting and you have to extend your hand out in front of you to not be blinded by it. “Hello,” you give him a smile, before grabbing one of the handles on the side and stepping up onto the metal platform.

“Ah!” The man quickly stops you, moving to stand in front of the open doors. He’s as wide as he is tall, big enough that he blocks the entire exit. “That’ll be ten credits, miss.”

“Oh,” you say, patting your empty pockets and pulling your eyebrows inwards, trying not to move too much in case the sizable amount of credits you have stashed in your backpack happen to rattle. “Oh, no. I think I lost my wallet.”

He sighs. “Off the bus then please, miss. Come back tomorrow if you find it.”

You nod, leaning your forearm against the paneling and beginning to take your shoes off. “Will it be parked in the same place exactly?”

The driver looks curiously at you, clearly confused at both the strange question and your strange actions. “I’m sorry? Please—off the bus.”

“One second,” you tell him, now barefoot on the platform and digging into your backpack for the slightly larger sized shoes you bought earlier. The sound of credits clink against your blaster, but you hope he takes your lead in purposefully ignoring them. “Does the bus to G’ila park in this spot every single day?”

“Yes,” the man tells you impatiently, eyeing the way you’re stepping into the new pair with a subtle look of distaste. Everyone is polite here, it seems. “It will arrive back at seven am sharp with passengers from G’ila, in the same exact place. Please get off the bus.”

“Thank you, sir,” you tell him with a smile, watching him step to the side to allow you to drop down into the dirt again and continue on your way.

Brilliant, if you do say so your fucking self. Eliminate the need for a back pathing. All footprints facing this direction are going to be the first footprints, and all of them facing the opposite way are going to be the last; if Din manages to figure out you didn’t take the bus, then he won’t be able to tell which new set are yours and which belong to the other passengers. You pray the helmet can’t track gaits, but while you’re still paying enough attention, you make sure to keep your steps just slightly longer and even try placing more weight on the edges of your feet to make it look like you have a slightly higher arch than you actually do. You’d put a pebble inside of them or something, but you know you’re going to be walking through the night and you don’t want to commit to having your feet hurt more than you already know they’re going to.

Eventually the quaint shops and small houses disappear behind you, and the sun setting over the horizon turns the clouds above turn more dusty green and brown than yellow and pink. You hope Din opened up the ramp after you left. You want him to see the sky.

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

Maybe it was because you only saw it while you were in crisis-mode, but that forest seemed much scarier and darker than this one. The vegetation there was thick and overgrowing, but these trees look like they’ve never had leaves on them at all. No twigs or small branches that sprout from the trunks—the branches are all thick and gnarly, criss-crossing with each other with how close they’ve grown together. You bet their roots are practically one at this point, stretching for miles and miles but all sharing the same system.

Because there aren’t any leaves, there's nothing to block the moonlight shining clear and crystalline through the twisting maze of branches. Sanctuary II appears to have a sister moon—Sanctuary I, perhaps?—that’s likely a similar size, because it’s the same one you've seen all day and it’s barely moved a few degrees that you can tell. It must orbit incredibly close and be tidal-locked with this one then. Two massive satellites swinging around each other as they circle a ringed gas giant, but it makes a stunning view and reflects more than enough light to see.

The sky is deep blue and maroon and you’ve been walking in a straight line for hours, using the stationary moon overhead as your guide. The only issue with this plan that you’ve been able to come up with is that there’s no widely traveled path through the trees—even you can see your footprints and the clear trail you’re leaving behind. You’ve been trying for a while to figure out another clever evasion tactic, but it’s harder than it sounds. Can’t just change shoes again, that’ll be a dead giveaway. How do you lose him?

You stop for a second, reaching into your bag to grab some water and stay hydrated. Looking up once more at the beauty of the swirling colors peeking through the branches above you, you find yourself pausing after returning the bottle to your pack. There are… an atrocious number of branches up there, and all of them are long and tangled and thick. Sturdy.

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

Without thinking much beyond that, you decide to bend your knees and jump, grabbing hold of one of the strong wooden tubes over your head and then swinging your legs up. Ouch—the bark scrapes against your palms and you have to hold on tight with your thighs while you shimmy yourself upwards, but at least the wood is solid as fuck. It takes you a minute or two, but you’re eventually able to shuffle yourself around so you’re straddling the thick branch, and then you look out to see the large collection of them criss-crossing in every direction around you.

Oof, this is dangerous. You know it even before you start. The gaps leading to the ground are bigger and more numerous than your potential pathing forward, but the only thing that gives you reassurance is how thick the wood is—you’re almost certain the branches aren’t going to break as long as you’re careful.

Okay. Shoes, these are too big for the kind of dexterity you’re going to need. You take them off slowly, being extra careful not to drop them, and then exchange them with the better-fitting pair you bought earlier, making a mental note that the sandals and the larger shoes are the two you’ve already worn. If your pursuer manages to catch on to the multiple footprint changes, your most recent ones should ideally just… disappear right there, shouldn’t they?

You grin, before struggling into a low crouch and looking around your wooden cage for a safe way forwards.

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

A blessing, and not because you’re thirsty. You have clean water in your bag and decades of habits formed in the desert to ensure you’re taking breaks and drinking enough—what you need is a way to disguise your footprints once you get back on the ground again. This was good; scuttling your way along thick and twisting branches for as long as you have was time-consuming and exhausting, but it allowed you to avoid touching the ground for at least a mile or so, which means he’ll have to comb that entire radius to look for your drop.

And it was fun.

You even found yourself giggling as you ducked and scooted, ignoring the bark scraping your skin and your panting breaths, the way your face got sweaty and hot. You had to do some brave maneuvers at tricky spots—jumping, balancing, hugging—but it almost just felt like an exciting little obstacle course for you and you’re honestly having a fucking blast right now.

Water, though. Water is an unexpected beauty, even more than you’ve always considered it to be. Water is an eroder. Not only powerful enough to smooth down the rough edges of strong elements over time, but it will hide your footprints as soon as you create them and leave no indication that you were ever there.

Eventually you see it—a babbling stream cutting a considerably wide line through the trees. You creep forward and hang tight to a branch above you to make sure you won’t fall, wiping the sweat on your brow with your other hand as you study the terrain. The water is… a considerable distance below you, maybe about ten or so feet, and there’s quite a few branches on either side that extend and hang out over it. You could probably find your way to the other side somehow, but something tells you to avoid the road beyond the forest if you can. It leads to multiple places, it would be better to follow the stream until you can eventually merge with it later.

That means you’re… fuck. You’re going to have to jump, aren’t you?

It’s the only way—you can’t leave footprints which means you’re going to need to land in the water. The trees clear too far from the shoreline, so you can’t shimmy down the trunk of one for a shorter fall. You’re going to have to climb out on one of those long branches until you’re suspended over the stream, and then you’re going to have to lower yourself as far as you can and then let go. With your height already accounting for at least half the distance plus the length of your arms as you hang, you should only have to drop two or three feet before reaching water, and then maybe another two feet to the floor under it. It looks forgiving enough—the moonlight shines and the stream is clear and you can mainly just see sand at the bottom, no sharp rocks or other potential dangers to be found. This… this is doable.

Okay. If you pull this off, you’re a badass. If you don’t break any bones or seriously injure yourself in any way, you deserve some kind of commendation. This is probably kiddie shit to Din, who keeps literal rockets strapped to his back and jumps out of ships flying thousands of feet above the ground, but this is a challenge for you and you’re feeling just excited enough to be up to it.

You’re eventually able to climb onto the thickest, sturdiest branch you can see that happens to hang over the water, straddling it and beginning to scoot. Your thighs are killing you at this point but you’re holding deathly tight to the wood, your movements becoming more and more cautious the further away from the trunk you get.

You’re directly above the water now, but you need to go out a little further. Aim for right in the middle so you don’t accidentally leave any tracks or prints on the shoreline if you need to catch yourself. The unfamiliar wood in this forest is admittedly sturdy, but the branch begins to subtly sag with your weight as you keep slowly scooting forward, and you’re just about to the correct spot when—

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

“Maker,” you gasp, suddenly scrambling to catch yourself on the branch before you can plummet. It creaks and groans under your weight but supports you nonetheless, and when you’re one hundred percent certain it isn’t going to break, you jerk your head down to the communicator and see that it’s midnight, on the dot.

Shit.

Your heart slams against your ribs and your arms shake with adrenaline while you study it for just a moment longer, trying to calm the fuck down.

“Hey,” Din’s voice comes sharply from your wrist, crackling and tinny through the comm, nearly scaring you again. “Answer me.”

You don’t want to sacrifice your grip right now, but you have no doubt he’ll fly the Crest out to you if you don’t respond. So you quickly let go to press a button on the front face and then latch onto the branch tight once more, raising your voice because you can’t risk bringing your wrist up to your mouth to speak. You hope he’ll be able to hear without the microphone picking up the sound of the stream below. “Uh. Ahem. Hello. Yes?”

“You’re too quiet,” Din’s disembodied voice immediately informs you. “Or something on your side is too loud. There’s an earpiece built into the side of the communicator, take it out and use it instead.”

You study the wrist brace without moving, until you finally see what he’s talking about. It’s a small, wireless piece of machinery hidden on the left side of the electronic display, and you quickly pop it out and stuff it into your ear just in time to hear the sound of hydraulics clanging through the speaker as you clutch the branch again. You’d know that sound anywhere, it’s the ramp of the hull closing.

“Are you already on the move?” You ask him incredulously, your thighs starting to go numb with how deathly tight you’ve been squeezing this tree.

“Can’t sleep,” Din murmurs, sounding so much closer and deeper than before. Does he have his earpiece on under the helmet or something? Stars, is that why his voice sounds that good? It’s like it’s coming from inside your own head, bassy and rough. “Ready or not.”

You huff, your tummy going warm. Of course he can’t sleep, of course he’s going to look for you as soon as he’s allowed to. If he waited until morning, you’d probably be slightly offended. You try to slow your heart rate into something acceptable, but being this far above water and hearing his baritone murmur directly in your ear make it difficult. “But I’m… sleepy.”

“You’re always sleepy,” he tells you, and though you can’t actually hear him walking, the sound of his footsteps shake through his voice just slightly as he speaks.

“Hang on,” you huff, ducking your head to drag it against your shoulder, keeping the sweat from your eyes without using your hands, “you’re gonna make me stay up all night just because you do? This isn’t fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well. Fair.

Stars, you can’t stay here. You don’t know how long he wants to check-in for, but you’re also not confident with this branch’s ability to hold you for an extended time when you’re this far out from the trunk. You need to get in that stream one way or another, but now that he’s here, you have an extra problem. Din is going to hear you no matter what.

“Um. Can you give me a second?” You ask him, glancing around to make sure there’s no better way of doing this. Nope, you realize very quickly—this is the best idea you’ve got, and you don’t really know what that says about the quality of all your other ideas.

“What?” Din grunts shortly, but you just clear your throat.

“I need to… mute myself. Give me like… five minutes.”

“What are you talking abou—”

“You of all people cannot be upset about asking for five minutes of quiet,” you return testily, looking down at the distance to the stream once more. That’s a long way. You… you can’t swim obviously, but again, the water doesn’t look too deep. Just a couple feet likely, shouldn’t go past your knees.

It’s fitting that he doesn’t say anything, which you eventually take as disgruntled acceptance, so you quickly press the proper button on your wrist to silence the mic and then take a few deep breaths. You have a time limit now, you have to do this.

With incredible patience and precision, you eventually slide until you’re clutching the branch upside down like an only slightly quicker and less coordinated sloth, before slowly dropping your legs and hanging over the water.

It’s… admittedly a bit further down than you anticipated, or maybe that’s just you making things worse than they actually are, but you’re committed at this point and there’s no going back.

You close your eyes, count to three, and then you let go.

The sandy floor meets your feet with considerable force and you make a hell of a splash doing it, nearly falling but just barely managing to keep yourself balanced and upright at the last second. The water is cool and comes up just over your knees, your backpack miraculously didn’t get wet and all your limbs remain shaky but unbroken.

Okay. Okay, fucking success. It feels… thrilling, accomplishing a dangerous feat, and you quickly let out a loud whoop before clearing your throat, trying to sound normal as you press a button on the communicator’s face once more.

“Mando?” You ask, slightly out of breath. “Sorry about that, I’m back.”

Okay, now which way do you go? Downstream seems like the easier path after getting in so much unexpected exercise, so that’s the one you go with. As soon as you lift your foot from the sand bed, you watch your footprint almost immediately disappear through the moonlit water, and you bite your lip at just how well everything turned out for you.

After a moment though, you realize he hasn’t answered you. You look down at the communicator again to make sure you pressed the right thing. “Hello? Shiny?”

“Did you trade shoes with someone?” Din’s voice suddenly comes through the earpiece, sounding absolutely incredulous.

“Shit,” you tell him, trying not to smile. “Hoped that was gonna buy me more time.”

“It… might’ve, if you kept walking in the same direction as they were,” he informs you after a moment. “Your shoes went south, but this other pair got all the way out here just to turn back around again? Good idea, but the execution needs work.”

Maker, he’s smart. It was the first attempt at a footprint change so you weren’t thinking much beyond tricking the tracking mechanism in his helmet, you ignored his logic completely. Essentially, the exact opposite of what he told you to do. You like to think you’re getting better at it by this point, thinking beyond just the original exchange, and you’re hoping you’ll be able to trick him with at least one of the other fifty times you changed shoes today. You’ll have to see tomorrow night, if you can make it that long.

Also, the road you were on apparently goes north-south, that’s important information you make sure to take note of. The man in Osiruu said Devain and Nariss are to the east, and that Sijua and G’ila are westward, right? Remembering that you thought south was west earlier, you do some quick calculating and immediately come to a stop in the moving water as soon as you figure out your positioning, turning around and walking upstream instead.

You want to go to Nariss. The capital, and the biggest city in walking distance. Smart quarry go to populated places, places that make it nearly impossible to find people.

“Alright. Mando: one, Me: zero,” you finally acknowledge, swinging your backpack around and unzipping it to dig inside for another piece of fruit. You’ve been hungry for hours but had to use both hands to stay safe and far above the ground, it’s the perfect time to eat. “How’s the baby? Behaving himself?”

“He kept trying to follow you after you left,” comes Din’s response, and you stop with just your teeth piercing the flesh, wondering if you heard him right. You actually open your jaw and pull the fruit away with just a bite mark in it.

“You’re joking.” No fucking way, not that little demon.

“Wish I was,” he tells you solemnly. “Made a fuss, tried to open the ramp a few times. Didn’t cause any trouble after, just… pouted.”

That’s… that’s exactly how he responded the very first time Din left the kid on the ship with you instead of bringing him along. He threw a fit, tried to ditch you for his dad multiple times, and then ultimately just looked cute and mopey with his limp ears until Din came back. Do you think it’s just him rebelling against change? That has to be it, right?

“He better not be giving you any hints about where I am,” you warn his father. “I’d tell you to put him on but I don’t want the earpiece getting lost forever.”

You hear it. The softest laugh—barely a breath, coming after years of learning to make it just quiet enough not to be registered by the helmet. It gets picked up by the communicator in all its understated beauty when normally it’d be silent, and it’s just jarring enough to make you careless.

On your next step, you accidentally lift your foot too high and make a splash, and you already know you fucked up before he can say a single word.

“What’s that sound?”

You immediately stop moving, allowing the cool water to move as silently as possible past your stationary knees. Shit. “Uh. What sound?”

You think he purposefully doesn’t say anything. Probably because it feels a little like cheating, doesn’t it? It’s to your disadvantage, having him be able to catch hints from your environment when he’s the one who made check-ins mandatory, but then again… how smart do you think he is? Something tells you that he might not need to track you at all—what are the chances he stumbles upon this little stream and just naturally assumes you were clever enough to use it to hide your trail? Did you waste time trying to engineer a vanishing act when it’s not going to matter regardless?

Oh well, too late now. You quickly decide to change the subject.

“You should try the big purple fruit that one vendor sells when you get into Osiruu, by the way,” you tell him pleasantly, taking a big chomp out of it and then letting out an extended hum of delight that only really fucking good food or sex causes a person to make. “I’m eating one right now, it’s so good. Be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Mm. Doubt it,” immediately comes his low response. Fucking immediately.

“Mando,” you gasp, scandalized and giddy enough that juice dribbles down your chin a bit.

“Are you having fun?” Din asks, instead of pushing the conversation any further in that direction. You don’t know if you’re thankful or disappointed with how quickly he decided to abort, but you take a moment to consider his question while swallowing and wiping your mouth. Not the answer, you know the answer—but why he bothered to ask. Did he know you were going to enjoy yourself as much as you have? Your only possible lament is how you’re talking to him through a communicator instead of having him next to you.

“I am,” you say warmly. “Be… be better if you were here, though.”

“Give me your coordinates,” Din proposes, and his voice is just low and rumbly enough to make you pause.

You’re really, really proud of yourself for only considering it for a few seconds before scoffing. “Psh. Nice try.”

“Was worth a shot,” he sighs through the earpiece, and you smile, taking another bite of fruit.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you offer, grinning at the implication.

“We’ll see,” you hear him return, and though his tone doesn’t really change, you know he’s probably rolling his eyes. He won’t have to ask for your coordinates because he’ll already be there, but it’s nice to pretend for a while longer.

And then you both walk all through the night, sharing casual banter with each other for hours. He never once implies he wants to disconnect, even when you hit him with more nonsensical questions—

“What’s your favorite food?” (“I don’t have one.”)

“Okay, well what about just a food that you like?” (“I don’t like food that much.”)

“What do you mean? Everyone loves food.” (“Not me.”)

“Alright, well um. What’s your favorite color, then?” (“I don’t have one, either.”)

“Come on, you must have some kind of color you like.” (“What’s your favorite color?”)

“…Brown.” (“Then that’s my favorite, too.”)

—until the sun rises and you both say your goodbyes.

***

Day 1–6:15am:

You resolve to waiting until you see another person to allow your feet to touch dry land, figuring the longer you stay untraceable, the better off you’ll be. Your toes are wrinkly and your pantlegs and shoes have been drenched for hours, but then you finally spot a few fishermen standing upstream with their backs to you, speaking to each other in the dawning light. Two look to be full-grown, but there’s a smaller one in the middle, maybe a teenage boy, and you pause for a second, looking at the riverbank next to them. All their valuables—water, food, bait, extra rods, but also… their shoes.

Quietly, you reach into your backpack and remove the pair of men’s shoes you bought earlier. The ones closest to you on the shore seem to be the smallest, so you sneak over as silent as possible and rapidly make an exchange, fitting the new ones on your wet feet before allowing yourself to touch dry land and then speed walking away.

The ones you left him are newer and roughly the same size anyways—yikes, maybe slightly smaller now that you’re thinking about it—but at least you have a back pathing. If that kid decides to take your offering and the shoes fit, Din will follow him, and if he decides to go barefoot instead, he should still follow him, right? You’re not really aiming to trick him outright, mostly you just want him to waste more and more time. This likely wouldn’t work if there wasn’t a time limit attached to this hunt, but you’re going to do everything you can to disappear while he’s still far enough behind you.

***

Day 1–7:06am:

You get to Devain remarkably quickly after finding the correct road. The pit stop is much bigger than Osiruu, big enough to call an actual town instead of just a settlement, but still not large enough to feel concealed. You want a city. This place at least has cars and ships moving about and overhead respectively, but you’re looking for somewhere with lines. Somewhere that feels as cramped and busy as possible.

Still, you find a restroom to use and then decide to grab some more food for your trip, happily spotting your new favorite purple fruit in one of the shop windows. As you’re reaching out to hand the storekeeper the appropriate amount of credits, Din’s gruff voice comes through the earpiece so suddenly that you jump, nearly dropping them all on the counter. “Hey.”

“Holy shit, what?” You gasp, earning a confused look from the lady in front of you. You quickly shake your head at her and mouth an apology while Din grumbles in vexation.

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

Ah. So he got to the bus, then. Okay.

“Oh,” you answer ambiguously, exchanging the money for your bag of food and giving her a polite smile. Din stays completely mute while you grab your snack, stuffing the rest of the goods in your backpack and then turning to leave—mute for so long that you have to double check you didn’t accidentally do it yourself.

“…Smart girl,” you finally hear him say. Quietly muttered under his breath, half proud of you and half frustrated for making his job more difficult. “Which one of these is yours then?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you announce, before taking a large bite as you leave the establishment and talking with your mouth full. “You really gotta try the purple fruit, it’s great.”

The communicator abruptly clicks to silence on his end without anything else and you laugh so unexpectedly that a few pieces of it fly out of your mouth.

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

Somewhere miles away from you, Din jerks to a halt in the middle of a forest.

He looks around the dirt floor, walks a few paces and hears the kid coo gently from his cradle. Behind the visor, the red footprints he’s circling are the last ones around for hundreds of meters, as far as his display can read.

His helmet slowly tilts upwards, and follows the endless maze of thick branches overhead.

With the beskar hiding his face, no one can see the way he slowly breaks into a beautiful grin.

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh. Oh stars, you’re tired.

You’ve been walking all day without really seeing anything, not having any place to disguise your tracks in the wide open plains. You could’ve stuck to the road, but you started to feel the exhaustion creep in during the early afternoon and you wanted to be far away from other travelers and potential danger if you needed to rest. You knew this would be a long journey when you left Devain earlier—over a day’s walk, a group of children told you—you even tried skipping or jogging a bit to see if that would inspire more energy in you, but it didn’t help much.

The large cup of caf you bought while in town was drained hours ago and it didn’t help much either, probably because your exhaustion is more physical and not necessarily mental. It just felt like a sweet warm drink to sip before you go to sleep, that’s how much the caf helped. Still, you kept walking, kept moving forward even as you squinted in the setting sun, your feet aching from traveling for this long wearing unfamiliar shoes. The last time you changed them was hours ago, pulling another bus maneuver but with an air shuttle instead. Still, you don’t think it’ll be enough. You don’t even know where Din is but you already feel like you’re losing ground just knowing that he’s the one in pursuit.

You feel it—the hair standing up on your neck, the tingles in your hands, the stirring of your tummy—whatever the incessant gogogo that your instincts happen to scream when you’re in first place but you know the person behind you is quickly closing in. It’s day fucking one, it’s day one and you feel him in the wind as it brushes through your hair, you can’t even pause to rest because nobody knows better than you that he’s an absolute fucking machine when he wants to be. The kid may have powers beyond that which can be explained by the laws of nature, but Din is a force all his own. He drives you forward when everything inside you is telling you to stop. He keeps you awake and determined when you just desperately need to rest.

But that only goes so far. You’re bordering on two full days without sleep, and though you’d normally be able to suffer through, the constant movement is just brutal after being confined to a stationary ship for so long.

There’s a lone tree in the distance, you think. It’s hard to see. Not because it’s dark—well it is, just a bit darker tonight compared to last, but mostly because your eyelids have grown heavier and more burdensome than the bag around your shoulders. That looks like a good place to just sit for a second, right? Maybe eat some more food, try and wake yourself up? Yeah, that’s a good idea, you’ll head towards the tree and just… sit…

***

Day 2–12:00am:

Completely dead to the galaxy and sitting on your ass with your back against rough bark, the comm clicks and Din’s voice comes through the earpiece.

“Wake up.”

It startles you enough to make you lurch forward and jerk your head around in a panic, looking for any flash of beskar so you can instantly break opposite to it. You scramble on all fours to look around but you don’t see anything, not even behind the trunk when you crawl, and then you take a deep breath and use the bone of your wrists to rub your eyes vigorously after a moment, knowing your hands are filthy. “Fuck, how’d you—”

“You’re always sleepy,” Din repeats, and you collapse back into the tree with an exhausted groan, not entertained but not even having the energy to get mad about it.

“I… I gotta sleep,” you tell him, already feeling your body let go of its tension and search for the darkness of unconsciousness once more. “Shit. How d’you… mm. Stay awake all the time…”

“Sleep,” Din encourages, you can still hear him walking. “You need rest. I’ll see you soon.”

No—

“No,” you whine like a child, moaning and shoving yourself upright. Maker, you’re trying to focus, but asking that of yourself is almost impossible right now. Everything swims—you were dreaming, you think, but you can’t remember and it’s not important other than to emphasize how woozy you are. Things still feel like a dream, somehow.

You think he can hear your struggling through the comm, because the sound of his footsteps pause. “Go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” you tell him bluntly, giving your head a violent shake to try and wake you up. You want to slap your own cheek but you don’t want him to hear it. “I can’t sleep if you don’t.”

“I’ve have at least a couple more days in me before that happens,” Din murmurs, and you bet he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing to you. You start to slouch, hearing the voice he uses when he’s curled around your body in the darkness of the hull. So warm, so gentle. If you use your imagination, you can feel his fingers drawing slow circles on your back, the vibration of his low voice rumbling against your ear as you lay your head on his chest. “If I hunt you the way I’d hunt a quarry, I’m going to find you before you wake up.”

“Then I’ll jus’ have to… not let tha’ happen,” you slur. Even this close to unconsciousness, you try your best to throw in a misdirect. “Already… paid for the bed an’ everything.”

“Sure you did. You in another tree?”

You immediately frown even as your eyes drop closed, too tired to fight but still managing to sound upset. “You makin’ fun of me?” You ask him with a harumph. Genuinely, you’re not smart enough to figure it out right now.

“Not hardly,” Din sighs, sounding… you don’t know. Is that displeasure or not? It’s not immediately clear. Does it sound that way because you’re just dumb stupid right now? Or because Din can’t actually decide how he feels about it? “Lucky I heard water over the comm last night, I would’ve wasted hours in that forest.”

“Noooo,” you whine in response, trying to push yourself off the tree but tipping sideways in the process, “that’s not fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules,” he repeats himself again and… nope, you don’t even have the energy to snark something back. You just grumble your best imitation of him while you do everything you can to heave yourself upright. It’s pitiful, you lose your balance not even halfway through and just plop on the grass for a second and groan.

“Stop,” Din eventually orders through the earpiece, tired of it. “What’s sixteen times itself?”

You’re loopy to the point where you don’t even question why he decided to ask you that. You just furrow your brows for a second and try to think about it, before suddenly realizing you… don’t know, you can’t remember. Multiplication tables and squares up to twenty are elementary to you, you know them by heart. Sixteen times sixteen. One forty-four. No… no that doesn’t sound right, is that twelv—

You take way too long answering what would’ve been an immediate response two days ago.

“I’ll stop here for tonight,” Din tells you with a resolved sigh. “I won’t move until you wake up. Go to sleep. You’re putting yourself in danger, you can’t even do the basics.”

Later, this moment will come back to you. That problem isn’t basic, not many adults would be able to tell you very quickly that the answer is two fifty-six. You don’t even think Din would. You would, though. On Naboo, you used rapidly applied trigonometry in your head to find his location, and that was barely two minutes after waking up. You should know this. And he knows you.

But for right now, you don’t pay it a single lick of attention.

“You promise?” You ask quietly, voice incredibly small as your head tilts back towards the sky, already feeling yourself beginning to fall back into the darkness again.

“I promise,” he vows in return, gentle but a promise nonetheless. He doesn’t have to do this. You wouldn’t be able to keep going even if he didn’t offer up this temporary truce, but knowing he isn’t currently gaining ground on you makes the idea of sleep so much more welcoming, something you want to seek out instead of fight.

“Will you, um…” your expression furrows. How do you say this? You sigh, giving up before even trying to figure it out. “I’m… not in a bed. I’m outside.”

Din doesn’t say anything when you pause, and even through the haze wanting to take over, you know it’s going to sound needy. You want him to stay. Even in the midst of an adventure, you want him to stay, you want to hear him breathe as you rest, but there’s not really an integrous way to ask.

You don’t need to ask.

“I’ll keep the comm open and wake you when the sun rises,” comes his lulling baritone before you can elaborate anymore, enveloping you in comfort in this dreadfully uncomfortable bed of grass and dirt. “Sleep, sweet girl. I’m right here.”

***

Day 2–5:34am:

The sun shines over the hills and you lift your head up to squint your eyes at it, confused as fuck. Looking down at your wrist to check the time in the warm rays, hands and clothes dirty from laying on the ground that long—you stay groggy and clueless for just a moment longer, before your heart lurches when you remember Din’s promise to you.

You open your mouth to address him but then catch yourself just in time. Wait. Don’t panic. Listen.

Breathing. Slow and relaxed through the earpiece, a rhythm now branded into your memory from months of nights spent in pitch black. He’s… asleep.

Din is asleep? Seriously?

You can count like… twice that this has happened, and one of those was because he got you to touch him just right after closing up a wound on his back, and his body couldn’t handle the strain and passed out. You’re never awake when he’s asleep—you’re just not, it doesn’t happen. Din… sleeps like it’s just a choice for him, he doesn’t ever really need it. Almost like how he used to eat before he started sharing meals with you, he said he doesn’t even like food that much. You think he just severed all of those things long ago, things that are basic fundamentals of survival and operated like a bounty droid that lost its voice box. It’s… nice, feeling like you’re somehow giving back some of the things he lost. Unintentionally encouraging him to find sleep again. Making sure he eats more, listening to him speak.

You struggle to your feet as quietly as possible, hearing him continue to breathe slow and relaxed through the communicator. This isn’t purposeful, you don’t think he actually allowed it. He promised you, and Din doesn’t take shit back. If he tells you he’ll do something and he doesn’t follow through, it’s either out of his control or a mistake, it’s never been purposeful. He didn’t mean to fall asleep.

And, in other circumstances, you most definitely would not find some way to take advantage of this. You’d let him sleep and do other things in the meantime—make some food for you and the kid, find something on the Crest that isn’t spotless and clean until it is, or just… lay there next to him until he woke up. But… these circumstances are their own. You have to capitalize now, this is your chance. You passed out last night around… ten pm, you think it was, and then he promised to stop at midnight. That means you have to walk at least two hours before he wakes up if you want to prevent any loss of ground—you don’t know where he stopped, he could be a few miles back even.

You have to find Nariss—you have to. It’s your only option, if you keep trying to run, it’s just going to make it so much easier for him. Now is the time to hide. You know it hasn’t been long, it’s barely been two days since you first left the Crest but it feels like you’re already in endgame, already making moves in self-defense instead of actually planning your maneuvers ahead of time.

The capital should be half a day’s walk from here, then. As long as you get there, you think you’ll be okay.

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

You immediately stop, seeing a busy road in the distance and glad you haven’t quite made it there yet, before trying to disguise your voice as drowsy. “Mm?”

“Shit,” he breathes, and you hear him get up, the sound of beskar moving as he grunts.

“Mpph,” you groan back, squinting your eyes to see if that’ll help sell the act. “I thought you… Mando, fuck, y’said you’d wake me when the sun came up.”

“I… fell asleep,” he admits, voice rough with it, sounding just as confused as you felt earlier.

“You said you had days in you before that happened,” you murmur, taking a deep breath and stretching your arms up above your head. Stars, your back hurts, how does he possibly manage to carry a fucking jet pack around all the time?

“Yeah, I…” He pauses for a moment and you bite your lip, not liking the quiet as soon as you hear it. “How long have you been up?”

Op. Not good. “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it. “How long?”

How in Maker’s name? This is impossible. How can you hope to hide from him when you can’t even manage to hide the smallest fucking truth from him? Can you salvage this somehow? “…Like ten minutes.”

“Least a few hours, then,” he sighs, and you get ready to hit him with the same line he used when you complained about his leg-up, opening your mouth as soon as you hear him speak. “That was smar—”

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

Oh. Well. Apparently you didn’t have a reason to feel shitty about deciding to haul ass while he was passed out even though you kind of ended up doing so anyways. There was no agreement besides that he wouldn’t move until you woke up. Reason is on your side, but it still feels a bit like you fucked him over. Is that valid or are you just so used to being nice that putting yourself first feels like a wrong you’ve committed?

“Don’t feel bad,” Din tells you, and you hear a soft coo in the background. It makes you smile the smallest bit, your shoulders relaxing even as they ache from carrying your pack around. “You should feel bad about stealing that poor kid’s shoes, though. He walked home barefoot.”

You smack your forehead. “It was just….”

“Yeah,” he scoffs when you don’t finish your sentence, and you can’t keep back a giggle. “Alright, I’m up now. See you when you get here.”

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh. What the fuck was that?

No. Nope, you’re not going to get played. That was a brilliant attempt at fucking with you, but you’re not falling for it this time. You’ve grown since that night on Canto Bight, you know him, he can’t just say shit to fuck with your head and then smile at your flailing response from under the helmet anymore. You normally would stew in that last comment until it got to you, made you make a mistake most likely, but the more you think about it, the more certain you are that he has nothing. He was just trying to see if you’ll abandon your entire plan just by implying he already knows it. That’s beginner shit, you’re not falling for it. Din wanted to leave the conversation with the upper-hand since you gained at least an hour of extra ground while he slept. You’re certain of it.

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

Nariss is big. Nowhere near the size of Coruscanti sectors of course, where billions of people are packed from surface to exosphere and require oxygen recirculation towers to breathe at the very top, but just slightly bigger than you expected. It’s bustling and you haven’t even made it through the city gates yet—you’re approaching them and the large number of people waiting in line, seeing buildings stretch out for miles in front of you and grinning. Yes, this will work nicely.

As you peek over shoulders in the sizable crowd, you see only two or three people allowing people to enter one at a time… is that a biometric scanner?

Oh. That looks good and it also doesn’t look good at the same time. If Din’s safety meant nothing to you, you’d have no trouble whatsoever getting in line and waiting to do a retinal scan, but you immediately pause and consider the potential consequences.

Your dumb ass almost weighs the option of clicking the communicator on and asking his opinion. You’d give away your location in a heartbeat (if he doesn’t know it already) just because you’re worried he’d… what, exactly? Stand in line for an hour, take his helmet off in front of a crowd of people, have the system ping his scan, and then hang out and wait for New Republic reinforcements to show? You have to stop worrying about him. He’s not a baby, he can handle himself and you need to stop considering the possibility of taking a loss just so he doesn’t have to, even if the self-destructive sentiment feels ingrained in your nature to do so.

So you wait in line, moving at a slow pace but at least moving. While you’re standing there quietly, a man in front of you decides to strike up a conversation. You don’t come from a place with an excess of people, but the ones in your sector were friendly and did this kind of thing often, so perhaps for that reason, you decide to chat.

“Do you have some place to stay?” He asks at one point. So far the conversation has revolved around him—every time he asks about you, you deflect. He doesn’t need to know. “Nariss isn’t kind to drifters.”

This catches your attention, though. This is relevant. “What does that mean?”

“It’s expensive?” He scratches his blonde hair, giving you a soft smile. “Food, housing, all of it is way out of my price-range. I stay with my uncle and work overnights at the eastern docks. It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep a roof over our heads. We used to live in Gibrath, but then we moved to the city because he’s a good architect and they’re always expanding. It’s nice, of course, but really expensive.”

He’s handsome, you think… in kind of a boyish, charming way. Blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes. He doesn’t look much older than you, and maybe in another lifetime you would’ve found him appealing, but… you like darker features, you think. Someone a little less expressive. This guy… talks a lot.

“I thought this moon was a safe world for people displaced by the Empire,” you offer, taking a step forward as the entire crowd shifts.

“Sanctuary II is,” he comments. “The capital is safe, too—what, with all the orangies walking around,” he tilts his head to two jumpsuited guards trying to organize the glob of people so the line can move faster, rolling his eyes as if they’re some kind of joke. “But not… welcoming, not if you’re looking for a place to settle. You would’ve been better off in G’ila.”

“Is there anywhere you know that would take me for free?” You ask. You have quite a few credits left, but you don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in an inn. It’ll be the first place Din checks.

“Are you a virgin?” He returns, and you immediately pull back at the unexpected question, your heart thudding at the possibility of danger. The man’s sandy eyebrows shoot up at your response and he quickly apologizes—“Heavens, I’m so sorry to ask like that! It’s just… the only place I know is the Holy Keja Orphanage on the northern outskirts. Their signs say they only house children and teenagers, but I’ve heard from other girls your age that they’ll accept any woman as long as they’ve stayed pure in the eyes of the Maker.”

“Oh,” you say after a moment, leaning sideways to see just a few people standing in front of him. Good, this is almost over. “Um. Yep. That’s me.”

He smiles at you once more, giving you a nod. “When you get to the city, just go straight through. It’s about a mile outside of the gates, no more than a day’s walk from this side of town.”

Okay, that’s… interesting. You think about it while you thank him and begin to exchange polite goodbyes, moving up another step until he’s next in line. That might actually be a good move. Din could spend a long time in the city without ever finding you. Smart quarry go to populated places, but… smarter quarry defy the expectations placed upon them, right? He knows you’re smart, and even though you’re confident his “See you when you get here” was purely psychological fuckery, that also implies… at the very least, that he’s assuming there is a here to get to. Meaning, he knows you’re not going into the wilderness to evade him. He’s not going to comb the outskirts when there are so many places to hide within the city gates, with an entire perimeter of New Republic guards stationed around it. Even if he does, the signs will say only children and teenagers—categories you do not fall into.

The unnamed man is soon ushered forward but you stop him quickly. “Oh, by the way. I doubt this will happen, but if a man in a big metal suit with a tiny green baby happen to ask you the same thing, please don’t tell him what you just told me.”

He furrows his eyebrows at you and cocks his head, but smiles and agrees nonetheless.

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

You’ve been working on it all afternoon, but you were hit with it the second you were looking for another pair of shoes to buy and find a clever way of putting on.

The cheapest ones were ridiculously overpriced, blonde dude was right. You blinked down at the tag and asked the salesman where the cheapest shoes in this part of town were, and then he just wrinkled his nose at you and shooed you out of the store. Granted, you slept in dirt and spent two days walking—you bet you reek, but he didn’t have to be like that.

Though, the man’s displeasure with you had an upside. You were holding a possible pair of pants and a shirt to buy when he threw you out, not yet having checked the atrocious pricetag on them, but it appeared as if he’d rather let you have them for free than rip them from your… admittedly, pretty filthy arms. Oh well, you weren’t complaining. Fancy clothes for free, score.

But now you’re here, and you have the best idea. You don’t need to change shoes, not yet. Why? Because you’ve figured out how to turn your incessant detriment into an advantage.

You’re in the middle of downtown, you think, maybe just some random crowded square, and there’s an inn in front of you. It’s fucking enormous, and you already know it’s gotta be incredibly expensive just looking at the sheer number of stories. It’s an eyesore, it sticks out. But that’s okay, because you’re only planning on staying for a night.

It’s also… right next to New Republic headquarters. Or fuck, at least a station of some sort, because they’re swarming in and out of the constant crowd, passing by the valet doors.

At first you naturally wanted to steer away from the jumpsuits, since you know they’re bad news for Din, but then you remember what he said before you left. I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it. I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.

It’s to your advantage, he said so himself. Everything lines up perfectly—the street is bustling, the inn is well protected, it’s nice—it’s everything you’re looking for.

And there’s another upside, see. An omnipresent, omniscient ghost in the form of a communicator clipped to your wrist right now. If Din is always going to be able to predict you, he’s always going to know when you’re lying, always be able to read you… then you’ll just have to let him.

Let him know. Let him know exactly where you are. Right in the middle of the most populated street you’ve seen thus far, a constant barrage of people walking by and New Republic officers patrolling. If you were planning on staying in the city, this would probably be your best option to hide. He could waste days here if you’re smart about it.

The concierge doesn’t appear too pleased with your lack of cleanliness and neither do you, honestly, but at least he allows you to book a suite for the night. It’s… not as bad as you were originally assuming, credits-wise, but it’s worth more than half your stash and you’re going to have to conserve from this point on. It shouldn’t be too bad—your destination is a holy orphanage, you’re sure they’ll have some extra food and a bed for you even if it won’t be ideal. Still, you think you’re going to enjoy some lavish experiences for once in your life before you go.

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

Alright, so this was the best idea ever. This is the shit.

You’re leaning back against a fluffy stack of pillows, squeaky clean from an absolutely glorious bath and watching the flickering drama on the large holonet display in front of you. You don’t have any idea what’s going on, as it’s being broadcast in Rodian, but you haven’t been able to change the frequency because it’s so fucking intense—somebody’s sister is their mother, you think? No, that must be a mistranslation, right?

You’re also in a robe. Yes, there is a motherfucking robe in here. And… and slippers, it’s like a dream. Do people normally wear slippers in bed? You do. Hell, maybe you should stay here, screw the credits and the chase. This mattress is even better than the one on Naboo and you’re basking in the luxury after being outdoors for so long.

The lights are off other than that and you’ve opened the drapes wide, knowing you’re on something like the fifteenth floor and nobody would be able to see you anyways. You just like being able to turn your head and look out at the sky. Violent and periwinkle tonight. You wonder if he’s looking, too.

Luckily, you snap yourself back out of it and glance down at the time on your communicator, quickly pressing a button on the remote to mute the Rodian show and then opening the line the moment the hour changes.

Day 3–12:00am:

“Hiya, Shiny,” you say before anything else, laying back and running a few fingers through your damp hair. Your eyes close against the flickering light, taking a slow, relaxed breath. Maker, this feels nice.

“You sound happy,” Din comments. Astute, you feel happy. Well… you’d obviously feel happier if he was here. Your eyes flick over to the open bathroom door, still steamy from your bubble bath earlier, imagining him walking through it completely naked and then climbing over you on the covers. You can only really picture it from the neck down—no, hang on… you can see his shaggy brown curls, that one spot on his forehead you know, how his facial hair would be dark and frame his mouth. No face, though. Missing just one fraction of him from your imagination, feeling incomplete but also somehow… complete in a way.

“I feel better after sleeping last night,” you tell him, purposefully leaving out the softness of the sheets underneath you, the sheer comfort of all this extravagance. You don’t need it, you’ll never need it, but it feels nice to have for once.

“I do, too,” he replies quietly, and your eyes flutter closed. You… miss him. This mattress would feel softer with him next to you. He’d probably be able to translate this show for you, even though you already know he’d fucking hate it. You can imagine it—you with your eyes closed, him propped up on an elbow next to you and grumbling vague descriptions of the nonsense happening on screen just to hear your chuckles. Adventures are great, but maybe they aren’t as great by yourself, you think.

“You should sleep tonight, too,” you encourage, but he scoffs.

“Not a chance,” Din mutters. “Oh, before I forget, we need to charge the communicators today.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” You ask him, glancing at all the multiple wireless charging outlets stationed around you. “I’m in the middle of nowhere.”

He doesn’t even take a fucking second before responding. “Good one.”

You grin up at the ceiling, warmth flooding you. You love him. Literally every single time, he just knows. Your curiosity is too overwhelming after this happening so often. Your plan to distract him relies on him being able to read you, but that doesn’t prevent you from wondering how he does it so accurately, time and time again. “How do you know?”

“You slept outside last night,” he immediately tells you, like that should mean anything to you.

Does he… does he truly know you well enough to know how much your back and shoulders hurt today? How much you were aching for a shower and clean clothes? A bed to sleep on that isn’t dirt or metal? You give into the accurate prediction with shameless honesty, not caring if he knows it’s the truth.

“This bed is soft,” you murmur gently, dragging your hand across the mattress next to you. “You should be here. I’d make you feel good.”

Admittedly, your comfort is making you a bit drowsy and you said it in the easiest way possible, but you didn’t necessarily mean it sexually. Well… you sort of did—you’d make him feel so good in this bed—but what you meant was more… comforting. He could take a bath, or a shower, and get all the grime off him. He could feel clean and unburdened, take a break instead of constantly moving around. The baby could have a whole bed to himself if he wanted, though you know he’d probably want to be on this one instead. You could all look at the sky together.

Din is quiet for a little bit, before his voice comes back through the earpiece. “Are you in an inn?”

“No,” you say, a little too quickly. Perfect, that sounded just right for a lie. You are lying, you absolutely are in an inn, the only difference is that you want him to catch on that it’s a lie, so… why does he take way too long before responding?

“Hm.”

What the fuck—why… how is it even physically possible? He read you that deeply from one single word? You’re not sure if he’s somehow psychic and figured the whole fucking thing out or if he just knows there’s something off, but it’s still enough to blow you away.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” You blurt without thinking.

“Doing what?” He grunts, sounding like he’s stepping over something, his breath changing intensity as he walks.

“If I look out this window right now, am I gonna see you standing out there just messing with me?” You don’t even know what to believe anymore. How do you beat this? If you don’t want him to know the truth, he’ll figure it out, and if you do want him to know the truth, he’ll still figure it out. His perception is unbelievable.

After a moment of silence, he murmurs gently through the comm. “I thought you said you were in the middle of nowhere.” It sounds like he’s smiling.

“I…” your eyes shift around awkwardly, “am…”

Din lets out a deep sigh. He’s right, that was bad, even for you. “I found your bed a few hours ago,” he admits. You close your eyes as you listen to him make his way closer to you, step by step. “I’m nowhere near the city yet. You have time to sleep.”

Your expression furrows and you frown. “Why are you helping me?”

“Why do you want me to think you’re in an inn?” He tosses back, and you huff.

“Because I’m trying to outsmart you but you make it really fucking difficult,” you grumble, not happy about him catching on so quick.

“You’ve also gained about four hours on me since we started.” His voice is gruff. You don’t know if he thinks it’s a good thing or a bad thing. “You should give yourself more credit. I thought I would’ve found you by now, never expected you to get all the way to Nariss. It’s… not good for me.”

The honesty creeping in makes you go soft. It makes you want to reciprocate, even if it’s dumb and you haven’t thought it all the way through. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.” His voice is a bed all its own, deep and gentle and safe.

You say it before you lose the nerve. “I might just turn around and walk back.”

His footsteps stop and you hear a small sound in the background, a quiet little baby noise that suddenly makes your heart ache. You’re comfortable but incredibly aware of how alone you are. People pass by on the streets below, cars and hoverbikes honk in the distance and you’re by yourself. For the first time in over a year, like you have been for years, you’re by yourself.

“Sweet girl,” Din sighs, and all of a sudden… you can feel his arms around you with it. You feel so… known, somehow. Every sentiment you could’ve possibly given in your last sentence, he relays his understanding back with his. He makes you feel loved with it. “Never wants to run.”

You don’t say anything, because you suddenly realize you’re totally fucking whipped, up down and sideways for his metal ass and the little floating grimlin that follows him around, and you would throw away the fifth quarry, adventure, the sky—literally everything if you could be with the both of them right now.

But again. You don’t have to say anything, he already knows. “Give me your coordinates.”

Your eyes pop open and you bite your lip. Oh, stars. You hate that you do genuinely consider it. He could be here, and very soon. With the jet pack, both of them could be here in less than an hour, probably. He could take a shower. Watch these stupid shows with you all night without needing to be on the move, help you build a bed of pillows for the kid on top of this one. You could be with both of them again, even if it’s only for a little while.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you finally whisper, looking down at the soft white fabric of your robe, the way one of your slippers is falling off your foot as the holonet program continues to play on mute.

Din’s footsteps eventually start up again, and you both relax in silence together. You, squinting at the screen because your eyes are getting heavy; him, continuing to travel step by step and gain ground on you. Let him come. You’ll be long gone by the time he even makes it to the gates.

It’s been about ten minutes of shared, quiet existence before you hear him bite into something and chew, and your face suddenly lights up.

“Are you eating the purple fruit?” You ask, your slipper falling off with excitement. You don’t know why, but it’s like… you’re stoked for him. Just as proud of him for doing normal things as he does when you step out of your own comfort zone. You like to think you’re both better that way. Balanced.

“Mm,” Din replies with his mouth full, and you grin down at your bare legs peeking through the robe while he swallows.

“Is it not the best thing you’ve ever tasted?” Your voice goes a little breathless with it, and you hear his footsteps stop once more.

“Close,” Din murmurs lowly, sending a small shudder through you. It suddenly feels a bit warm in here, doesn’t it? This morning was one of the rare times you were awake while he was asleep… it’s almost always the other way around, and just from the implication in his tone, you’re reminded of the thing he likes doing most when you’re resting. Maybe he’ll let you do it to him, next time around. The thought gets you hot enough to warrant the other slipper falling to the floor.

“You’re alone, right?” You whisper, knowing he must’ve pulled the helmet up to take a bite of the fruit. He must still be following your path through the hillside, then, not yet reaching the road.

“The kid is awake,” Din tells you, sounding like he’s trying to stop everything before anything starts. His words are short and clear in their meaning, but…

This has a very small chance of success, you already know. “…Do you want to—”

“No,” he responds quickly, already way ahead of you. “We can’t.”

Something in his voice… you don’t know, there’s just something there that makes you feel just a little reckless. Should you push it? You’re by yourself in this suite, what can go wrong?

“You can’t,” you correct him quietly, shifting around on the bed just a bit and biting your lip. It’s a thrill—being able to tease him without having him in front of you, drive him crazy knowing you’re just out of his reach. “But I can do whatever I want, can’t I?”

There’s a pause, a tense and knowing silence suspended between you before he eventually speaks.

“I’d be real careful,” Din mutters low in warning, but what is he gonna do?

“What are you gonna do?” You whisper to him devilishly. Quiet and breathy, beginning to snake your hand down. Stars, your heart is already pounding. You’d only likely mouth off like this in person just to see how hard he’d fuck you, but this feels extra dangerous for some reason. He’s stuck, he can’t do anything about it right now, and you know it’s playing with fire. “You could hang up if you don’t want to hear me. Or you could find me before I’m finished. Come make me stop.”

Din doesn’t say anything but he very much does not hang up, nor does he come busting into your room like you imagine he’d like to. The sheer fact that your door is still closed and locked tells you for sure that he isn’t just hanging out in the hallway, just letting you have your fun.

You start pressing your fingers against your robe at the apex of your thighs, humming at how nice the pressure feels. You don’t even spread your legs or push the fabric away, you just sigh into it and wiggle your hips a bit, pressing hard against your clit and listening to him breathe.

“Do you want to listen?” You ask quietly after a moment, and Din still doesn’t respond. Likely because there’s not a real answer, both yes and no would imply the wrong thing. “I’ll talk.”

Still, nothing from him. Dead silence through the comm. You’re starting to understand. For two days, you’ve felt like he could read your every thought just by the cadence of your voice. He’s staying quiet so you can’t even attempt to do the same to him—if he doesn’t talk, you can’t find a weakness and pounce on it, you can’t feel any more confident or reassured about your own ability to read him.

You’ll just have to push a little harder, then.

“Hm. If only this fancy communicator could…” you pause to look down at your wrist for a second, studying the menu. You don’t think you’ve ever really looked at it, you never had the time.

Din’s growl is sudden and sharp through the earpiece. “No, don’t even think—”

“Ah,” you smile, tapping the face and immediately finding the correct screen. “Take pictures.”

He’s deadly quiet for a moment, and you bite your lip with excitement. When he does speak, his voice is a pure threat, chilling you to the bone as much as it burns deep in your tummy. “…You wouldn’t.”

Ignoring him, you suddenly locate a menu option that sounds phenomenal right now. “Oh shit, does this holocall? Or is it a video option?”

“Holo,” he says very seriously while you study the lack of complexity of the built-in camera in skepticism, “and the kid is awake, so you can’t—”

“Oh, it’s definitely a video,” you unclip it from your wrist and he curses as you sit up, and then you press a button and wait impatiently for him. “Pick up.”

Din takes forever before responding, and you hear the continuous beeps as it attempts to connect, before his quiet baritone rumbles in your ear. “What if I don’t?”

You feel your mouth pull down at the corners, not so much frowning as you are dubious. He’s going to turn down the opportunity to see you and your surroundings when his whole goal is locating you? Really?

“You sure?” You ask softly, raising an eyebrow. “You’d get to see me, where I am. What I’m…” your eyes dip down to the loose robe riding your curves, your skin glowing against the white fabric, “…wearing.”

The beeps continue on for a few more seconds, until they finally stop. You frown down at the black screen of the communicator, not seeing anything at all. Did he decline the transmission request? No… there’s a little red light next to the small lens that wasn’t there before. Why can’t you see him?

“Why can’t I see you?” You ask. You want to look at him looking at you, you don’t want to always be stuck on the other side of a one-way mirror.

“I… have it linked to my helmet, but it only has a front-facing camera,” Din tells you after a moment, and he sounds… slightly out of breath. “Easier to see, the watch is useless now besides the controls.”

Wait, does that mean you’re… being shown on the inner-display of his helmet instead of his wrist? Right in front of his eyes, as if he were actually here with you?

“Nobody can see me but you?” You clarify, and when he doesn’t respond, you bite your lip and lean back into the pillows. You lift the watch up slightly, extending your arm out until you can get the angle as wide as possible. “Can you see… this?” You ask softly, before hooking your fingers in the collar of your white robe and slowly pulling it open for him.

“Where are you?” Din asks instead, and you hear his footsteps through the earpiece, as if he’s walking away from something very quickly.

You don’t answer him, parting the soft fabric until your breasts are completely exposed and you sigh, closing your eyes and snuggling back into the pillows once more. “I’ll tell you where I am if you keep watching me.”

“Why?” Din grits in frustration, coming back around to the same dangerous question he had earlier. “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.” You slowly tilt the camera down until you can spread your legs and the robe falls open with the movement, letting him see your pussy peeking through in the flickering light of the muted screen in front of your bed. “Can you see that?”

“Yeah,” he says shakily on the end of a breath, and you feel yourself get wet. Fuck, he sounds so fucking tempted, the sight making his voice come without any of the self-assuredness as it usually has, but… he could also just be saying that. How do you know he’s telling you the truth?

“What am I doing?” You test him, lifting your knee just the slightest bit so you really give him something to look at.

“Spreading your legs for a camera,” Din responds without hesitation, voice scraping against your ear, making you shiver and your nipples harden. Fuck, the way he says it, like it’s wrong and bad even though he’s the only one who can see or hear you do it… it makes you feel even more naughty and emboldened.

You bite your lip and reach your hand down to spread your lips for him, too, hearing his breath immediately catch on the other end. Already your pussy makes your fingers slick against your soft skin, the sash of your robe still holding the fabric together on your body but also loose enough to allow it to part in the right places and reveal everything you want him to see.

“I am in an inn,” you whisper teasingly, letting your finger drop to brush against your clit and then sighing in soft delight. Oh stars, that feels nice, it feels so good to treat yourself after being completely nomadic for two days, getting to be clean and soft and comfortable while you feel this pleasure, and Din’s voice growls through your communicator like you’re doing something painful to him.

“Fuck,” his breathing picks up while you begin circling your clit. “Where?”

“Nariss,” comes your quiet moan, turning your head on the pillow to blink slowly at the camera. Wanting him to see your eyes as well as your finger slowly dip into where you’re the hottest, caressing the sensitive skin there knowing he’s watching.

“Where in Nariss?” Din’s voice is as pleading as it is sharp, desperately trying to keep either you or himself on track.

“I don’t know,” you say again. Truthfully, you don’t—you don’t know the cross streets, you don’t know the part of town, you don’t know much of anything at all besides physical descriptors. You quickly move the camera to the side as far as you can hold it and let him see you from a different angle with the window as a backdrop. “But the window is open. And there are lots of people outside.”

“Can they see you?” Din immediately challenges. Of course they can’t, you’re fifteen stories up and the room is darker than it is outside with all the city lights and swirling colors of the sky, but you suppose he doesn’t know that. You think he just needs to relax—if this is what he’s always like during hunts, you now know exactly why he comes back to you all riled up and tense.

“I don’t know,” you murmur back, starting to rub your clit a little faster, trying to make it feel like him. It doesn’t—your fingers aren’t large or strong enough to give you those perfect circles; you just feel like you’re meandering yourself towards ecstasy instead of picking you up and hauling your ass there like he does, but it’s okay. Hearing Din’s rough breathing come through the earpiece, knowing his hands are probably clenched tight into fists, wondering if he’s hard yet… all of it culminates into a power trip unlike any you’ve experienced recently. It makes you bold, tells you to open your mouth. “Does it matter? I’d still let you fuck me against it if you were here.”

“Stop it,” comes his growl, but what is he gonna do?

Your leg lifts a little wider so you can slowly slide your fingers down and push two of them inside yourself, and Din swears as you moan, “Come find me.”

“Give me your coordinates—”

“Are you giving up?” You offer breathlessly, lifting your eyebrows and your hips up slightly at the question, but you’re… not expecting the extended silence following. You assumed a growled no would immediately come next, or just another empty threat said with enough force to make you tremble with excitement, but not… nothing.

The response makes you pause just for a second, easing your fingers out and dragging them across your thigh to clean some of the wetness off before extending your arm out towards the communicator. Din stays quiet while you navigate through the menu with trembling fingers, eventually finding your coordinates and hovering over the unchecked share location box.

You wait with your lip bit, confident he knows what you’re doing and you don’t have to narrate or repeat yourself. Fuck, you knew you were considering abandoning this entire adventure just to be next to him again, but you had no idea. No fucking idea that it could ever be a thought in his own mind as well. You… assumed he likes this, hunting is what he does for a living and he’s the one who conceived of the idea in the first place. Is he just that aroused by you? Or is there something more?

“No,” Din eventually murmurs, and you immediately navigate out of the menu so you don’t accidentally press anything catastrophic, before pulling your hand away from the communicator with a resolved hum and settling back into the pillows again. Making sure to look directly into the lens even if your eyelids are heavy with heat and desire, you slowly lick your fingers and then reach down once more.

His deep, shaky breath is so telling. Exhausted after all this, but still not hanging up, still doing his hardest to tough it out when he’s only miles away from you and has jets attached to his back. You don’t want to drag it out but you also do, you want to be kind but something about Din makes you also want to be as formidable as possible. You’ll never be able to threaten like he does, you’ll never have anyone cower just because you walked into the room, you’ll never be as powerful or strong as he is, but you can still put up a fucking fight against him in your own way.

You whimper softly, your breathing beginning to find a quicker pace as surely as your fingers do. It begins to spark and build, a red hot flame being kindled by the knowledge that he’s as close as possible without actually being close, right here with you when he always seems so far away.

“Mando,” you whisper, though your expression pulls inwards just slightly because it… in a scenario as sensual and intimate as this, it almost doesn’t sound righ—

“Din,” he whispers back, so quiet you almost don’t hear it, like he almost doesn’t want to but has to anyways, and then you just start to fucking burn.

“D-Din,” you whisper instead, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible through the rising swell. He’ll be able to see it, you think. The way your tummy and chest start to heave, how your body begins to brace for it—and yeah, Maker, he sees it, because his voice suddenly changes.

“Stop,” Din growls roughly, knowing exactly how you cum—knowing exactly what it looks like, the way it sounds in your breathing, what it tastes like, how it feels on the inside. It’s been so long since you’ve touched bliss without him, months and months since you brought yourself to completion on the floor of the Crest by yourself, and though he’s rarely ever denied you, your own high on newfound control causes it to slip. He barks your name and tells you to stop once more, but it’s too late.

“I’m gonna cum, Din,” you breathe out—

“Don’t—”

It tears through you, rapid and surging, and he snarls a curse, something loud snapping and thudding and… did he just punch something? You can’t think, it’s delicious and hard as fuck and everything you needed after two days of near constant movement and thought with little rest, and you bite your lip to keep quiet but a pained whimper still shoves its way out of your tense vocal cords regardless. It sounds like it hurts because it does hurt; the orgasm shatters your body into pieces and you’re left trembling by yourself on this soft bed, wishing he was with you on a metal one.

You sink into the mattress in the moments following, sluggish and exhausted and just conscious enough to keep the watch facing you. You bet the camerawork was terrible, shaky at best, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now. You just lay there and listen to his harsh breathing while you work to slow your heart rate, reveling in the filthy little show you just gave him and wanting to finish it out properly.

“Come find me,” you breathe out once more, lazing soft and naked for him, blinking dazedly at the watch as you pan it over you. Your thighs are still twitching and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging to you, but you drag a finger through your swollen lips and carefully wipe the wetness across one of your nipples. “Clean me up.”

“Fuck,” Din suddenly spits through the earpiece, furious. “You think—y-you think—”

“What?” You hum, basking in the afterglow and so, so curious. Truly, you’re dumb as fuck, you have no clue what you’re thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell you, it’s him.

There’s a moment where his breathing stops. It’s completely silent on the line, before you hear another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.

“You think you can taunt me?” He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet. “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there? You think that’s gonna work?”

Your eyebrow lifts, considering. He… may or may not have predicted your strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising you by now. “Maybe…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

Ooh. That one sends goosebumps down your arms, but you’ve gained four hours on top of a twelve hour headstart. He can’t scare you with that tone, not when you’re still woozy with pleasure and he isn’t right in front of you. Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, you just blink gently at the communicator, finding strength in being the only one to get him this mad when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word. “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”

“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly. Stars, your heart subtly begins to pick up, your legs continuing to tremble as the small red light next to the lens stares you down. “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid. Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days. I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss. You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”

The chill down your spine doesn’t reach your eyes, you won’t let it. You just feel yourself smile, tilting your head at him and licking your lips while your finger brushes one of your nipples, but Din doesn’t accept your silence the way you’ve always accepted his. He wants an answer from you, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what you originally planned for.

“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey. “How long do you think you can keep running?”

Your eyelashes flutter, suddenly deciding… why not? What have you got to lose? Nothing that you didn’t already go into this situation completely expecting to lose anyways. What’s the worst he can do? Find you?

You close your eyes, pinching one of your nipples and wondering if you might just go for another one since he’s still here. “Ask me again tomorrow.”

But then, instead of immediately responding, you just hear Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace you’ve been able to keep over the past few days. You don’t think it sounds like a run necessarily, but you know that his legs and strides are far longer than yours and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for you. You hear the rhythm of your demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in you both fears it and welcomes it.

“We’ll see,” he tells you, and then the red light vanishes and your earpiece clicks to silence.

***

Day 3—2:23am:

Even though it takes you much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting interaction and not being used to flickering light when you try to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, you’re eventually able to pass out.

But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, you turn over and accidentally knock your communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table. It blinks with four percent battery life.

***

To be continued!!

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian #smut #reader insert #fanfic #rough day #no-droids #tw: stalking

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 years

Text

hi yes im still alive

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST--

HAVING A MOMENT TO PROCESS ALL THE LORE AND STORY CHAPTER 6 JUST DROPPED ON US, I CAN BARELY WRITE

AHHHHHHH, I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS 😭 kjdbbaufbiafafvoaybo LEMME PUT ON MY THINKING CAP AND THROW SOME STUFF OUT ASDYUBUASDLI;AGVUOQIB;VI You’ll understand why I used Leona’s face here even though it’s Idia and Ortho’s chapter after you read my thoughts--

***Chapter 6 (and other main story) spoilers below the cut!***

Okay, just to keep it simple, I’ll try to keep things in chronological order!

First is a bullet point list of my thoughts on chapter 6 so far, then all my questions and theories (mostly a biggish theory on Ace) are at the end of the post.

Expectation: Idia cowering in his room, Vil and Rook busting down his door using Epel as a battering ram, dead Ortho theory confirmed

Reality: SWAT TEAM RAID ON NRC, DORM LEADERS (sans Kalim) AND JAMIL GET KIDNAPPED

Admittedly, I’m disappointed to see that the injury Grim inflicted to MC was basically just a cat scratch and nothing more. I thought it would be a lot more impactful if MC had to deal with juggling the realization that Grim has betrayed their friendship and trust while also on the verge of death (or at least while being severely injured)... And given how MC reacted to the attack at the end of chapter 5, I would think whatever struck them was much more substantial than just a cat scratch. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say either the script got scrubbed by Disney, or the intent was that MC was still woozy from VDC / OB Vil, MC felt so betrayed that it shook them emotionally, or that MC was just that weak by default that they can’t defend themselves against cat claws.

Hey, Ramshackle’s finally getting renovated! Proceeds to immediately get destroyed again--

I feel like????????? They tried to retroactively explain why Neige won to try and mitigate the uproar over how VDC ended. There’s some dialogue between the VDC group about how they didn’t perform at their peak because of having just walked out of dealing with OB Vil, and how Neige’s fans were going to vote for him anyway because they resonated with his background. Honestly, I think they should have moved on from that sore spot instead of bringing it up again, even if how chapter 5 ended didn’t personally bother me.

BOOM, HERE COME THE TWST TERMINATORS--

NOT GONNA LIE, THOSE STYX GUYS LOOK HOT SO COOL

AAAAAAND IT’S KIDNAPPING MONTAGE TIME, KIDS

JOABSFHUPAUABDBADB CALM DOWN, RIDDLE??????? YOU’RE GOING TO COMMIT ARSON IN BROAD DAYLIGHT--

Okay, I know this chapter’s focused on Ignihyde and Grim, but the standout part to me (so far) has been the scene where Leona’s being kidnapped. Historically, Leona has not been a character that I like (excluding that one time I had to pretend to like him for a game). I feel like he’s one massive missed opportunity (he didn’t show up much in chapter 2, he’s pretty similar backstory-wise to his Disney counterpart compared to the other Dorm Leaders, he didn’t seem to learn anything or become a better person even a LITTLE after chapter 2, etc.). I’m not a fan of his lazy and arrogant attitude either (even if it is justified by his backstory). But here? THIS IS THE LEONA I ACTUALLY LIKE AND WANT TO SEE MORE OF.

LIKE????? I CAN’T DESCRIBE TO YOU HOW MUCH I LIKE THIS SCENE???? Yeah, we have Leona fighting STYX at first, but as soon as he realizes who they are, he wises up and surrenders because he knows better than to resist arrest. AND NOT ONLY THAT, but he uses King’s Roar in a smart way--to turn the falling greenhouse glass panes into sand so they don’t hurt anyone nearby (namely him and Ruggie).

And after he turns himself in????? LEONA TELLS RUGGIE TO TAKE CARE OF SAVANACLAW FOR HIM!!! THIS is what a real leader would do. He looks after himself and his people, but he knows when to surrender, AND he leaves his “kingdom” (the dorm) in good hands while he’s away. THIS is the Leona I want to see.

AJBDUASHPFBUABFIABIYFBIPFAAFIAF I ALSO REALLY LIKE HIS SASS WHEN HE JUST THROWS HIS HANDS UP AND ASDBIASBIABAIODDAYOFAIPPADAIDB SAYS “I’ll go with you, but be careful while escorting me, okay? Despite my looks, I'm a precious prince. I’ll get sick/dizzy if you drive recklessly.” SARCASTIC SASSY SMARTASS??????? IF YOU HAD MORE LINES LIKE THIS, I’D LIKE YOU MORE

I love how Azul’s still talking about capitalism/how he can profit from Idia (apparently the Shrouds are like the TWST equivalent of Google??????) as he’s being escorted away by the agents?????? IF I WERE HIM, I’D BE PISSED OFF THAT THEY INTERRUPTED MY BOARD GAME????? At least let the man finish first--

Damn, everyone’s being tasered???????? And apparently all the STYX agents are equipped with anti-magic plates? I guess Bind the Heart can just eat shit then--

Lilia’s ringtone is cute, period.

CROWLEY CALLED STYX TO CAPTURE GRIM???? GRIM IS OFFICIALLY A SCP THAT NEEDS TO BE CONTAINED????

WAIT WHAT CROWLEY’S BEING KIDNAPPED TOO??????? Oh well, the school is probably safer in Trein’s hands anyway--

askhlbfbilhidbabbidasb RIDDLE WAKES UP POST KIDNAPPING AND HE’S USING LEONA AS A LAP PILLOW?????!

How does it feel to be held in a room against your will, Jamil? Yeah, don’t like a taste of your own medicine, do you?

OH HI IDIA, NICE YZMA MAD SCIENTIST GETUP YOU GOT THERE

Wait, what????? THAT’S IT?????? SERIOUSLY???????

MAN.

I have so many questions??????? Specifically about STYX and what they do, and how the Shrouds are tied into all of it.

So they say STYX is a specialized unit called in to quell serious Overblot cases. And if Crowley called them to deal with Grim... well, bad times ahead for Grim. STYX has also been studying Overblot for a long time, which is why (I think?) they captured Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, and Vil.

There’s been some allusions made between Grim and Stitch in a lot of fan art and fan theories I’ve seen, since their struggles have some parallels: that being them struggling to decide if they are “good” or “bad”. I don’t know if this was intentional on the part of the TWST writing team, but regardless, it’s a really good concept that plays into the themes of TWST itself. There’s no good, there’s no evil, no black and white--most of the characters we see may be BASED on villains, but that doesn’t MAKE them villains. They are good, and bad, in their own ways--and now Grim is dealing with that crisis as he fights to keep his sanity and avoid completely succumbing to Overblot.

Though Idia seems to be involved with STYX’s research, it doesn’t sound like he personally gave the order to retrieve those test subjects (or at the very least, he’s not happy about roughing up the test subjects), it sounds like the orders came from other people in the organization. His parents, perhaps?

They mention briefly that Idia’s parents are asking him to “come home”, so it must be for something urgent. Are they worried about his safety? But Idia’s lines at the end of chapter 5 lead me to think he is estranged from his family, since he straight up rejected a job offer linked to them (Olympus Corp is owned by the Jupiter family, and the Shrouds are a branch family of Jupier), and says something like “I’m not welcome anywhere”. Has Idia done something to disgrace him from the rest of the family? Or is it more of a self imposed/self inflicted statement, given that he always says he’s “cursed” and acts like he’s guilty of something that deserves scorn?

Why is Idia participating in STYX research, even if it means experimenting on his fellow students (and fellow board game enthusiast Azul)? People are speculating that he wants to use blots to fully revive Ortho (if dead Ortho theory is true), or that Idia actually has heroic intentions (he wants to know more about blots to prevent OBing from happening?), but at this point??? Literally anything could happen?!

In future parts, I’m guessing Pomefiore, MC, and Adeuce will team up to break Jamil and the Dorm Leaders (except Malleus, Malleus got left out again www) out? And HOPEFULLY we get to see Rook’s Unique Magic or at least more screen time, since I feel like he got so little in chapter 5... Another thing I’d like to see is Ace and/or Epel getting their Unique Magic, or at least starting to develop it. It’s really mostly Ace I want more details for.

A theory I’ve been holding onto for a long time is that Deuce getting his UM will spur Ace on to become jealous (since he has always seen Deuce as an idiot/”lesser” than him), and that will cause a rift in the friendship, or for Ace to throw himself into a dangerous situation to prove himself (he has done it before with Riddle)... and has his ass rescued again. This would make Ace even angrier, since he feels like everyone is treating him like a little kid or rubbing it in that he isn’t “as good” as they are. I don’t know where it would go from there (I’m sure TWST would get creative), but ultimately it would culminate in Ace making amends with everyone and rushing in to save them from either Grim or Idia OB.

I don’t think Ace would discover his UM in a similar manner as Deuce (Deuce had to embrace his own stubbornness and straightforwardness, but as the term “Unique” Magic implies, the way a magic develops and manifests is “unique” to the user). While Deuce has to learn to accept his own way of thinking, I believe Ace is already sure of his own way of thinking and has totally accepted it. I think what Ace has to deal with instead is coming to terms with his fickleness. We’ve seen him time and time again treating his loved ones kind of callously, from constantly bullying MC, Grim, and Deuce to ghosting his own girlfriend and flaking on people when they are counting on him to do a task.

The issue with Ace isn’t that he isn’t aware, it’s that he is aware and he seems to think this behavior is totally okay. He demonstrates little to no remorse in what he does and says, and he doesn’t seem to care about the consequences either (how many times does he get punished by Riddle, yet he keeps doing the same dumb things over and over?). Ace appears to operate under the mindset of always being in the right, or (if he’s in the wrong), he won’t really acknowledge it, or he will wave it off as “no big deal”--and I think that’s his greatest weakness.

In the scenario I described earlier, I mentioned that Ace’s jealousy will cause a wedge between him and his friends, and I think this will play into him realizing the error of his ways. When he has finally driven away all of the people that supported him, what will he have left? Nothing. Then maybe Ace suddenly finds himself relating to Idia, or to Grim, who have Overblotted and are in a similar emotional state as he is. Confused and lonely... and that energizes him to pitch in again, even if all he has is wind magic up his sleeve. Everyone could be shocked that Ace has returned, and in that moment, he could finally realize his true potential and unlock his Unique Magic!

(Maybe that’s too specific, but that’s a scenario that I’ve had playing in my head for a long time!)

... Buuuuut given that Ace has gotten little to no spotlight so far in chapter 6, I’m not sure if they’ll lean into him developing his UM yet (unless they pull a chapter 5 and really start addressing Ace in the latter half of the chapter like they did with Deuce). Seeing as chapter 6 is dealing with a lot of heavy topics (death, Grim lore, Overblot lore), I’m thinking maybe the TWST team will push off Ace’s UM development to chapter 7???? The only way I can see it happening in chapter 6 is if the chapter is SUPER long, or if the writing is REALLY good or really bad.

Anyway, I’m keeping my fingers crossed!!! I’m so excited for the rest of chapter 6... I hope that we don’t have to wait too long for it!

368 notes · View notes

anika-ann · 3 years

Text

Attached: Word Is that We Might Work It Out

Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series

Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 6850🙈

Summary: You said yes to Professor Rogers – Steve – taking you out for ‘coffee’. Ball’s in your court – and you decide to make your move.

A date, maybe first of many, maybe not. A date with the gorgeous professor who happened to read your erotica about him. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: alcohol consumption, professor-student relationship and unspecified age gap, language, lots of fluff

A/N: Timeline-wise, this one-shot fits in after chapter four of Attached!!! At the end, you can find the reason behind me writing this. You can consider it one big flashback, if you will 😅 Gif by capchrisevaans.

Series masterlist | previous in timeline

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You lasted one day. One full day since the encounter in the office, since Professor Rogers admitted he would like to take you out for coffee or something similar. Since you two exchanged numbers.

It took you twenty-four hours – maybe less – to decide that so what if that might be a bad idea. It was not against the university rules and Professor Steve Rogers was a fucking specimen who also seemed to be a genuinely nice human being and if you allowed yourself to play chicken just because something only might go wrong in the future, you’d be an idiot.

Penny, your roomie, wholeheartedly agreed. She actually punched the air in victory as you were nursing a greasy lunch due to the wild-ish celebration of the end of the semester together the night prior and you just said to the void: “You know what, screw it. I’m gonna go for it.”

You didn’t even have to say what you were talking about – Professor Rogers had been the topic ever since the faithful Monday.

So you texted him that if the offer still stood, you’d like to meet up on Friday evening. Was he free?

Hey, Y/N :) Thank you for reaching out. Friday sounds great. Do you have anything specific in mind?

“Dude. He’s such a cutie. Who even texts like that?” Penny chuckled, a wide grin on her face as you couldn’t but read the text out loud.

“I texted him like that.”

“Touché. Because you want to impress mister ‘hot as fuck intellectual’ there.”

You just rolled your eyes, neither confirming nor denying. Mostly because Penny was right. But he was the first to use an emoji and… yeah, cutie indeed.

Well, I never say no to dinner and I’m down for almost anything-

“I bet you are,” Penny hummed to your ear and you swung after her blindly and thought of a better phrasing.

Well, I never say no to a dinner and I’m not picky. You choose. Seven-ish sounds good?

“Spoilsport.”

“Stop reading over my shoulder!” you chuckled and bit your lip as the answer came almost immediately.

Seven is alright. I’ll think of something to treat a girl right ;)

Your stomach made a small somersault, your face instantly radiating heat at the possible innuendo. The phone vibrated again before you could fully process the image your mind painted of him actually saying it in his gentle timbre.

Just so we’re clear, what is the nature of the dinner? It can be whatever you feel comfortable with.

Your heart leaped into your throat, hammering wildly.

That was the question, wasn’t it? Since you texted him, you made one thing clear with yourself. If you were doing this, it was going to be a date. You wouldn’t be doing things by halves.

Penny next to you made a noise that sounded as something between an aww and her gagging on nothing. “He’s disgustingly considerate for a man his age planning on going out with a girl your age.”

“He’s not that much older,” you protested instantly, frowning. He wasn’t. She knew that; you had both done your research. “And I think it’s amazing.”

You caught Penny’s smile from the corner of your eye as you typed.

“Well, it is kinda sweet. And I know he’s not, I’m messing with you. It’s just-- DON’T SEND HIM THAT!”

“Why?” you questioned, looking at her quizzically and totally clicking on send on purpose at the same time.

I’d be comfortable with a date if you are.

“It’s so lame. Of course he’s comfortable with a date, he suggested it. Duh.”

The reply came way too fast and Penny chuckled behind you as your jaw went slack.

“You know what? Don’t mind me. Good job. Keep it up,” Penny patted your shoulder as you stared at the screen where Professor Steven Grant Rogers just texted you a damn heart.

It’s a date <3

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It was a date indeed.

Steve texted you an address on Friday morning (along with an adorable good morning :) ), apologizing that he couldn’t pick you up, making sure you’d be alright getting there on your own. You found it absolutely sweet, considerate and smart. You suspected that his ‘inability’ to pick you up had something to do with the fact that you lived at the dorms and if he showed up there, it would be trending in the university chit-chat room within five minutes.

You spent a better part of the Friday afternoon researching the place and the weather forecast so you could dress accordingly and getting ready.

You were not ready for a date with Steve Rogers however; your nerves were a mess and nothing could ever prepare you for when he showed up perfectly on time in front of the restaurant---- wearing a suit no less.

How were you supposed to function when he was wearing such elegant clothing, a suit he filled up so fucking well?! And he looked just as breath-taking as always, stupidly perfect beard and slightly tousled hair you just wanted to run your fingers through and his smile was so gorgeous and--- Jesus Fucking Christ, the suit- how could you even put words together when looking at him-

“Wow, I feel so underdressed now.”

Clearly, you could speak just fine, only you lost your brain-to-mouth filter. Also, your mouth might have started watering and your heart was pounding like crazy. You would not survive tonight.

But, you also had a point. The restaurant was supposed to be a nice place, but relatively plain. And he showed up in amazingly fitting dress pants, white shirt, a tie and a suit jacket. So yes, you did feel underdressed.

“Oh no, no! You’re not,” he rushed to reassure you, eyeing your semi-leisure white dress with burgundy flowers with an attentive gaze that had you shifting your weight nervously. “I’m overdressed if anything. Sticking out like a sore thumb, I’m sorry.”

You could always just strip the suit jacket, was your first thought, but luckily for you, this time you managed to contain the words before they got out to the open.

“You’re fine,” you said instead, not knowing how else to react; needless to say you were grateful for the smile he gave you despite the double meaning.

Yes, he was fine indeed. Always. It was unfair, really.

“Thanks. You too. In fact, you look beautiful.”

Your heart stopped in your chest, your mind suddenly racing a mile per minute.

It was ridiculous. It was just a word. But for one, it was spoken so kindly and genuinely you couldn’t but think he meant it, for two, it was Professor Steve Rogers who told you that and--- beautiful.

You couldn’t remember a guy ever calling you beautiful.

Cute? Sure. Pretty? Maybe. Hot? Might have happened once or twice . But beautiful?

You might actually swoon.

And you were so lost in your head that you couldn’t but silently stare at the lethally handsome man in front of you and then it again registered in your brain that this was your fucking crush speaking to you and he was on a date with you and he had read your erotica, one that was about him no less-

Your face was set aflame in an instant and you… you couldn’t let out a word.

“It everything okay? Did I… did I say something wrong?” Steve asked hesitantly, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows and it reminded you of all the times you had seen him wearing such thoughtful expression in the two classes he taught instead of Professor Barnes and-

You were screwed.

Tonight was going to be a disaster.

“No, uhm, no, sorry--- maybe we should go inside or-“ you muttered, lightly gesturing towards the door and could you get any more awkward?

“Yeah, sure, sounds good.”

He let you walk in first like a real gentleman, the lightest skim of his fingers on your lower back, which caused your heartbeat to skyrocket; and only when the hostess seated you, you realized you never accepted his kind compliment.

It was too late for that now, you assumed, so you sipped at the still water which waited at each table, and repeated like a mantra to yourself that you needed to get your shit together otherwise you’d ruin your shot before the night even started.

But clearly, you succeeded at that already.

Whatever awkward aura you had around yourself, it seemed to extend now to him too – he shifted slightly in his seat (he had pulled out your chair for you before, because of course he had), his shoulders stiff. Despite that, he smiled at you over the menu.

“So… all exams worked out? Enjoying the freedom?” he asked casually.

“Oh, yes. Yeah.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” you uttered with a forced smile, your stomach twisted unpleasantly.

For some reason, you felt like you were having a lame attempt at small talk with a professor, which you were, but it wasn’t supposed to be like that.

Not tonight. Not on a date.

What were you even doing here? What were you playing at? Professor Steve Rogers was entirely out of your league, gorgeous, funny, kind and smart and here you were, barely making conversation.

It was pathetic really. It was embarrassing for both of you.

“You up to anything fun?” he queried, the question less enthusiastic than the one before. He was already growing tired of making your uncooperative brain work at least a bit, it was obvious.

Your gulped as the memory of last night popped in your head – staying in, quiet evening, in a mood for some dirty writing--- oh bless, another reminder of why this dinner was and should be really weird.

Steve read your smutty story. The one about him.

“Nothing special,” you squealed silently, earning a plain nod. “Eh, we went out with Penny, my roommate and best friend in one person. But mostly I just stayed in and--- caught up on sleeping.”

“I know what that’s like,” Steve hummed, clearly as grateful as you were when the waiter appeared by your table to take your orders.

Silence stretched as the man left, your hand beginning to fiddle with the neatly folded napkin on the table, lump growing in your throat due to your nerves.

“What about you? Anything… fun?” you asked reluctantly, noticing a brief smile passing Steve’s lips. Pretty, sinfully pretty lips. Perfect. Untouchable for mere mortals like you.

“Oh, not much. Few exam sittings, faculty meetings – we had one now, hence the suit-“

“You came here right from school?” you blurted out, startled – and clearly surprising him with your rudeness. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Yes, I did. We have a meeting every last Friday of the month.”

“Oh my god, you must be so tired,” you sympathized with him quietly, the uneasy feeling in your stomach only growing. He came here straight from work and for this? “Why didn’t you say something? We could have postponed or something.”

Steve swiftly shook his head, his warm hand landing on yours, gently stopping your restless fingers. This time, it was butterflies in your stomach erupting with life, the sweet comforting gesture warming your heart. He wanted to be here. He came here for you. He was interested in you.

And the feeling was mutual. So why was it being so weird then?

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m glad you reached out. I’m glad that you said yes in the first place,” he admitted, features softening despite the tension in his shoulders never leaving. His brows furrowed as he slowly withdrew his hand – it must have been an automatic reaction then. “I’m not that tired and… and maybe I was little worried that if I asked for a different date, then…”

He trailed off and your lips parted in surprise, your heart swelling in your chest at what he was implying.

Did he think you’d back out? Did he think that all the potential obstacles intimidated you too much? That you’d think it wasn’t worth it? That it wouldn’t work out anyway?

Seeing as you were now, you couldn’t blame him. Despite him being the world’s most charming man, here you were, being… not at all yourself, stressing for no reason.

It seemed to you that had had chemistry, back there in his office. This date made sense. When you imagined how this could unfold, well, it went a bit differently too. There was considerably less embarrassment going around.

This was why you preferred writing to speaking. That’s why you liked daydreaming. Because reality was often less than ideal, no script, awkward silences, misunderstandings…

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your food arrived.

You both thanked the waiter politely and you hoped that at least now you’d have a good excuse for the lack of normal conversation.

“What are you sorry for?”

You sighed and nibbled on your lower lip, not missing the way his gaze instinctively flickered there, pupils dilating just a fraction – but enough for you to notice. Your heart skipped a pleased beat – but the undeniable physical attraction couldn’t be enough.

“For this,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. His features twisted in disappointment and something that looked a lot like regret flashed in his eyes. “I want to be here, Steve. I really do. I don’t know what’s wrong with me-“

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you,” he was quick to oppose and you couldn’t help it as a wry chuckle escaped you.

“Well, there’s certainly nothing wrong with you. And still, there’s this…”

“…tension?”

You wished.

“Sort of? But not the fun kind, for sure.”

He grimaced, but a spark of amusement lit up his blue irises. “Awkward air around us?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed victoriously as he voiced exactly what you were thinking. Then you quickly lowered your voice, looking around. Luckily, no one stared at you. You realized you leaned closer to him over the table, your heart racing at that, but you didn’t withdraw; it was a lovely opportunity to get even a better look at his perfect face. “But I don’t know why!” You knew why. “I like you, Steve-“

“I like you too. And I know I already said that, but you look stunning.”

Your cheeks burned again, but this time, you managed to stutter out a thank you at least. Stunning, Jesus, was he for real?

“T-thank you. You look incredibly handsome too. Then again you always do—why did I say that.”

One corner of his lips quirked up.

“Why thank you, I’m glad you did. The feeling’s mutual, believe me.”

“Then why does this feel like one of the most awkward dates I’ve ever been to?!” you whisper-yelled, causing him to chuckle, the tips of his ears turning red.

His hand once again landed on yours, this time deliberately, the gesture warming you in more than one way.

“Well… I’m nervous. You might be too.” You hummed in agreement. Was that all it was? “But the way you said it, at least it seems to me that it could have been worse, right? More awkward?”

You felt the corners of your lips rise at the remark, shrugging. He had a point there. And he squeezed your hand a bit and good Lord, it should not be making your heart race so much, but he was touching you and he was being really sweet and his fingers were nice and warm and long-

“Tell me.”

You blinked in surprise, realizing you had been staring at your joined hands. You raised your gaze, finding him watching you with a subtle smile.

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me about the most awkward date you have ever been to,” he clarified, his thumb caressing your wrist.

You only hesitated for a beat before you nodded in agreement, god knew why. Perhaps you did need a reminder that this could have gone much more disastrously and it was mostly your traitorous brain telling you that you were messing everything up.

Plus, Steve deserved whatever he wanted – so far, he was the only reason this date wasn’t as disastrous as it could be.

“Okay. You ever been to a speed dating event, Steve? Because I have.”

“Oh, this is ought to be good,” he noted with another squeeze to your hand, before he released you. Shame. He sipped at his wine and dug into his pasta. “I’m all ears.”

This is ought to be good, Steve said. Well, maybe. You certainly hadn’t thought so at the time.

Explaining to Steve that as you had been under duress from no other than Penny, you both went to the event which promised you meeting ten dashing men in only an hour. You’d get five minutes with each, as anonymous as you’d wished to be, receiving a folder with nothing but a table with the first names of the men and a yes and no option and a line for your own notes about them.

You weren’t sure what to think of it – but after three epically failed Tinder attempts, you agreed to try. If nothing else, you’d gain a new experience.

And an experience had it been. You even lasted a month with one of the guys, but you didn’t tell Steve that. It wasn’t important.

André was.

André Whatever-was-his-last-name – because that was how it worked, no last names – definitely believed he was important. With the guys moving around the tables from one woman to another, spending five minutes with each, you could already hear André closing to your station from two tables over.

He was hard to tune out, courtesy of the colour of his voice, extremely unpleasant to your ears, and him never letting the woman he faced talk. Always interrupting. Always turning the conversation around so it would be about him.

Asshole.

You liked to think you weren’t quick to judge people, but André was making you cringe before you were even introduced. And then you actually were.

A minute into his monologue to you, you felt like you were being tortured.

And then the waitress managed to stumble and spill a glass of white wine – partly over your table, but mostly on the floor. At least she caught the glass and you had but a tiny spot on your dress.

“She was apologizing so profusely and I wasn’t thinking, okay. I went for the napkins few tables over to help and— I didn’t realize I put the open folder down for everyone to see,” you explained, feeling like face-palming when you remembered the night.

Steve watched you in anticipation, a small smirk and a knowing look on his face as he guessed you had already circled ‘no’ for André at the time.

Oh, you wished it were that simple. You felt your cheeks burn hot as you continued.

“André read it, of course. Obviously, he already got a hard ‘no’ from me, but… I might have written a tiny note for myself as to why,” you admitted and Steve’s eyebrow rose minutely, his curiosity piqued even more.

You took a deep breath.

“I wasn’t exactly kind to him. It was something along the lines of self-important asshole who probably compensated for something.” Steve huffed in amusement. But oh, if he only knew... you sighed and continued. “And If Draco Malfoy and Gilderoy Lockhart had a love child, this would be him.”

No sound came from your companion this time and your teeth anxiously sank into our lower lip, your pulse wavering. What was Steve thinking? Did he think you had been rude? Mean even? Nerdy? All of the above?

He stared at you for full three seconds, clearly rendered speechless by your harsh judgement.

And then he burst out laughing.

Suffocating weight fell from your shoulders and you silently joined him as you explained yourself.

“I was in my Harry Potter phase! And in my defence, I think it was actually pretty accurate...”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, sweetheart,” Steve chuckled lightly before laughing some more, irises twinkling with amusement and something… softer.

You shuddered upon hearing the endearment spill unwittingly from his lips, upon seeing the emotion on his face. And maybe you were a little proud of yourself for making him laugh and lose the tension in his shoulders completely.

“It was one of the longest and most awkward three minutes of my life, the silence that followed,” you huffed, massaging your forehead. “He did not appreciate the comparison.”

“I bet,” Steve cackled, taking another bite of his meal, smile playing in the corner of his lips as he swallowed and continued. “But you’ve got to give it to him, he knew his Harry Potter characters.”

“Ha! My thoughts exactly. But that’s a little bit of weak base for dating, I think, especially since I kinda already hated him.”

“Oh, you did? I didn’t catch that,” Steve joked lightly, causing you to smile despite the horrid memory.

And funnily enough, telling him and remembering it… it did make you feel better and more at ease with him.

“Ha ha ha, laugh it up, Professor. Your turn.”

“I’m sorry?” he said, clearly puzzled. It didn’t escape your notice as his voice faltered, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the addressing.

Oh, so that’ s still a thing. You couldn’t but smirk a bit at that.

“An awkward date. You have to share now, it’s only fair,” you shrugged, only for a terrible realization to dawn on you. “Please tell me there is at least one awkward date story, Steve. Tell me this isn’t really your worst date ever.”

He shook his head with a soft chuckle.

“Oh, there’s plenty. I’m just trying to think about one that won’t scare you away from me. I’d hate that.”

One corner of his lips raised, he looked you up and down, lingering on your lips for a bit before meeting your gaze, something you could only hope was fondness and wanton in his eyes. Your breath hitched, heat pooling in your abdomen at the thorough onceover despite the gentle tone of his voice.

Fuck how could he make you feel hot and soft at the same time.

Unable to stand the intensity of his stare, you lowered your gaze and gulped, your stomach making an excited slip. He did want you. You had been being silly, letting your nerves get the better of you.

Clearing your throat, you willed yourself to look up, finding him still watching closely – and perhaps, there was a hint of a red to his cheeks, the tip of his ears burning as if despite the blatant flirting, he was unsure of himself too, because he didn’t want to mess up with you either.

You found it absolutely endearing and your heart swelled. The way you got to see there was more to him than his professor side and his dashing looks… you felt incredibly lucky. The more you got to interact with him, the more it wasn’t just your sinful thoughts belonging to him – he was quickly working on stealing your heart as well.

Plucking up your courage, you were the one to reach out this time, carefully sweeping your thumb over the back of his hand, smiling.

“I’m not scared off all that easily, Steve.”

He mirrored your genuine smile, a glint of something you couldn’t read lighting up his eyes.

“That’s good to know,” he said lowly and sighed, narrowing his eyes as if he was assessing you again. “Alright, here goes…”

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You actually managed to get one more awkward date story from Steve, because frankly, his experiences were hilarious. And surprise surprise, he was a great narrator. Plus, while he talked, you could ogle him shamelessly without fear of looking strange.

But you guessed that since you were on a date, you could ogle him anyway. He didn’t seem to mind; in fact, whenever he got the opportunity, he reciprocated it. It finally did feel like a date, the air growing thicker as you gradually shifted closer and closer, the light touches prolonging, feet meeting under the table without parting as soon as they made contact.

Your belly kept warming up with each smile and laugh, with every second of the intense eye contact, with every flicker of his gaze to your lips and vice versa. Sharing a dessert was a terrible idea, because you wanted kiss the crumbs sticking on his lips away. You teased each other, you complimented each other – with Steve absolutely winning the undeclared contest – and you realized that despite sharing your most embarrassing dates with each other at the beginning, this was the absolute best you had ever been to.

And you didn’t want it to end.

The light sweater you had brought with you did nothing to shield you from the surprisingly lukewarm wind. As you wandered the streets, Steve finally heard out one of your first thoughts you had had when meeting him today – he shrugged off his suit jacket.

Which… yum. The seams of his shirt were crying for help and you could only think fo one way of helping them – taking his shirt off too. But alas, Steve didn’t continue the striptease, probably because you were on the street. Instead, he did the most wholesome thing and held out the jacket for you to slip into.

You only hesitated a moment, teeth sinking into your lower lip. How could you say no to that?

“That’s awfully cliché and really sweet at the same time,” you muttered, causing him to shrug, one corner of his lips raised in a smirk as he helped you put it on, forefinger most definitely deliberately caressing the side of your throat before withdrawing.

A shudder ran down your spine, electrifying feeling going straight to your core. The whiff of whatever cologne he was wearing enveloped you, clouding your senses. Goddammit he smelled so good.

“Maybe I just want to see you in my clothes,” he hummed, the suggestive remark knocking the breath straight out of your lungs.

Stepping to your side from behind your back, you caught a glimpse of his expression – a little bit smug, a little bit panicked as it probably registered with him just how much suggestive it was, perhaps crossing a line.

It was absolutely not crossing the line, because the thought of wearing his clothes, preferably grabbing it because you couldn’t find yours after you threw it all around the room as you frantically stripped each other was making your head spin in the best way.

“Maybe I’d really enjoy wearing your clothes after you rip off mine.”

Steve’s jaw went slack, a choked noise leaving him and you couldn’t but laugh at his dumbstruck expression. Surprise, professor, you little shit. I can keep up.

“That was… mean,” he said, clearing his throat. Your eyebrows rose, pot calling the kettle back style. “But I see how I deserved that.”

“Damn right… but that doesn’t mean it’s a lie,” you shrugged, chuckling at the exasperated look he shot you.

‘Man, she’s gonna fuck you up on a whole new level and I’ll be here for it in the front row with a bowl of popcorn,’ Barnes’ words to Steve which you weren’t meant to hear echoed in your head, making you grin.

The teasing was intense, yet you felt comfortable in it. You blamed Steve and his nature – he already felt like a guy to go lengths to make you feel at ease enough; the way he had kept insisting on you choosing whether this was a date or not only proved it. He made it easy to be yourself, making you feel like you could.

And he made it perfectly clear that he was enjoying seeing you like that, that he appreciated you as you were.

But the closer you got to the campus, the more the reality was settling in, your laughter fading, butterflies and heat replaced by anxiety. He was still a professor. If you went for it, it wouldn’t always be uncomplicated like this. The awkwardness crept in as your steps grew slower, the inevitable arriving.

He couldn’t walk you home, to walk you to the dorm, even if the desire to do so radiated from every fibre of his being. He couldn’t do that for the same reason he hadn’t picked you up.

You came to a stop, feeling like there was this invisible border to a safe, students-free part of the city, the line you couldn’t cross side by side.

“So, uhm… this is it, huh?” Steve hummed, grim. You appreciated the lame attempt at a smile though and reciprocated, turning to face him.

“Looks like it.”

Heavy silence settled over you pair. Your eyes trailed all over him, lingering on his face, noting as he did the same. He was beautiful; you didn’t care you should say that about a man. He was. The light in his eyes dimmed compared to that just a few moments ago, but it was still there, expression soft, almost as soft as his beard looked, causing your fingers to twitch in need to run them over it and pull him in for a kiss.

Your lips tingled as the idea. You had never kissed a man with a beard and you wanted to know how it felt. The fact it was Steve only sealed the deal and made the need grow exponentially.

You wanted to kiss him so bad. But here you stood, unable to move, unable to speak. You sighed.

“Would you-“ “I want to-“

“Sorry,” you and him said at the same time again, laughing it off quietly, your fingers running through your hair.

Your stomach clenched when you noticed his eyes following the movement almost wistfully.

“You go first,” he prompted you gently.

You didn’t argue – if you learned one thing tonight, it was that Steve was a gentleman and that was so rare these days that you wouldn’t want to discourage him from being that way. Even if you really wanted to know what he was about to say, as soon as possible.

“I… I just want to say thank you. For the… for the date. I had a good time, so I hope you had too, at least a little,” you offered lamely, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks.

Like a schoolgirl blushing in front of her professor. Jesus, why were you being like this again.

Steve didn’t seem to find you as awkward as you felt however, your name slipping from his lips, kind and soft.

“I had a very good time. You’re amazing.” Your lips parted at the blatant and genuine compliment. His eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, that came out so strong, I didn’t mean to put you in spot like that-“

Stronger than ‘maybe I just want to see you in my clothes?’ you asked yourself. No, you didn’t think so. It was just that the playfulness had left at least two blocks back.

This felt more serious. More intimate.

“Ditto,” you whispered, gracing him with a shy smile he instantly mirrored. “But hey, I already knew that, so…”

He chuckled, shaking his head lightly, his smile only growing. When he looked at you again, his eyes were the beautiful warm blue that made you weak in the knees.

“Would you like to do something like that again?” he queried lowly.

Yes. YES. YES PLEASE. Minus the awkwardness at the beginning and the one a moment ago, preferably.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” you agreed simply, taking note of how his face lit up even more.

How could a man be so indescribably hot and yet adorable enough to tug at your heartstrings?

“Good. I’m glad.”

He tugged at your hand unexpectedly, pulling you to your left, his other hand steadying you by gently grasping your forearm.

Before you could question his actions, a pair of men swaying in a drunken haze passed you, having no care in the world for whom they might crash into.

“Thanks,” blurted out lowly, sparing a second to shoot their backs a dirty glare.

But Steve’s hands were still on you, distracting, as you stood face to face, chest to chest, a little too close, a little too far. Your heart sped up in your ribcage, breathing picking up in anticipation. So close…

But all Steve did was to squeeze your forearm reassuringly, lifting your joined hands to his face.

Just like the day you agreed to get coffee with him, he kissed your knuckles, only this time it was much firmer. His smile was sweet and utterly irresistible as he kept looking at your face and you felt all the worries about the future melt away once again.

He was so precious and this felt so right and--- you didn’t want him to kiss your hand.

Well, you wanted it, but you wanted more too.

You had been aching to kiss that mouth since you had first set eyes on him, on that inhumanly gorgeous and hot creature. You were on a date, you both had a great time and clearly he was giving you the opportunity to decide how far you wanted to take this, because as much as every little touch of his made to crazy, the displays of affection were positively chaste.

And you wanted to take it very very far.

Your rational brain wouldn’t let you just hop into sac with him today, but fuck, you could do with a kiss. You wanted to feel that perfectly trimmed beard of his and you wanted to taste him.

Did he?

You stepped even closer as he let go of your hand, distracting you minutely; due to the sudden proximity, it landed on his chest and Jesus fucking Christ he was firm.

Your fingers clutched at the white fabric of his shirt as you observed his face, your gaze inevitably flickering to his lips. Glancing up once more to find him still watching you intently, pupils dilated, your breath caught in your throat, heat stirring in your belly.

Rising to your tiptoes, you gripped the fabric tighter and shortly pressed your lips to his.

It was a funny feeling – lips hot, soft and slightly chapped, a stark contrast to the beard, less rough than you expected, leaving a tingly sensation behind. It was different; exciting and addicting. Before he could react and before you could think twice, you kissed him again, this time lingering for a few seconds, your eyelids falling shut.

Your heart fluttered when you felt his lips reluctantly respond just as you withdrew, his grip on your arm tightening. You ran your tongue over your lips to savour the feeling, mouth instinctively curling up in a smile, gaze meeting his.

Little wrinkles appeared around his eyes as he smiled as well.

“You okay?”

You nodded, almost too eagerly, lowering back to your whole feet. Involuntarily, your gaze flickered to his mouth again, wanting more.

“Uhm… beard,” you piped up unhelpfully, pressing your lips together as soon as the admission left them.

Steve’s smile widened as he once again grasped your hand, leading it to cup his face – not before he dropped a kiss to your palm.

You almost let out a very embarrassing whine at the curious sensation, your mind, still enveloped in Steve’s warmth and cologne, wondering how the beard would feel elsewhere.

Your fingers unwittingly caressed the hair, thumb brushing his lips, unable to resist.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, lips parting, hot breath fanning over your skin as watched you.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed out and that was it – you pressed against the soft swollen flesh at the pet name, causing a low grumble echo in Steve’s chest.

And then his hand slid to your waist, the other sinking into your hair, and he pulled up into a kiss that had nothing to do with how patient he had been before. He was still a gentleman, but it was a close call – he angled your head to his liking, his lips dancing with yours in a sensual dance with just a tease of tongue licking at the seam of your lips, causing you to sigh in bliss, granting him access.

He hummed appreciatively, the sound shaking your bones as he held you flat against him, the heat of his body seeping into yours – as if every nerve ending in your body wasn’t on fire already. He breathed you in, consumed you entirely – there were no other words for it.

There weren’t many words you could think of to begin with, too busy feeling his broad shoulders under your palm, fingers roaming to find the soft hair at his nape, revelling at the taste of him, just a smidge of tongue and you wanted more, your insides twisting in need--- and oh, your back was pressed against a wall now.

You let out a small startled sound which Steve instantly swallowed – but it was a good wake up call for you both. The motions of his lips slowed, softened, a gentle caress more than anything, his thumb stroking your cheek.

Breathless, you chased after his mouth when he retreated, earning one small peck and then another. He rested his forehead against yours, nose briefly skimming yours, causing you to smile and meet his gaze.

“Sorry,” he muttered and you genuinely wanted to slap his arm or something for apologizing for that. Because you knew what you’d be thinking about for the next few hours, days even, hell, probably weeks. “For springing out like that. I just… wanted to do that for a long time.”

The admission had your heart skip a beat and you couldn’t but lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth – and nope, you weren’t over how it felt, his beard against your lips. You wouldn’t be over it for a long time, you suspected.

“Me too.”

“So… we’re doing this again, right?“

You smirked up at him as he reluctantly released you. “You springing out like that or-“

“Don’t test me, babygirl,” he nearly growled, causing your eyes going wide as saucers, feeling as if you were sucker punched to your gut – and liked it.

Babygirl. Jesus, he was going to be the death of you.

“You can spring out like that again too,” you chimed, your voice sounding a bit strangled, because holy shit he just called you that. His gaze flickered all over your face, a shade darker than before. Your underwear was thoroughly ruined with that single look… and the earlier make-out session. “But if we’re talking second dates, I’d definitely do that too.”

He huffed and shook his head, a chuckle escaping him.

“You’re a minx…. I think I like it.”

You grinned at him and then sighed regretfully, reaching to slip off the jacket, which made him frown.

“You could give it back later.”

“Don’t tempt me… don’t want to rob you of it--- and there would be questions,” you explained, knowing that even walking around the campus like what would raise rumours of god knew what.

Like, maybe someone would think some gentleman like Professor Steve Rogers himself lent it to you or something, gee, where would that come from...

Steve nodded in understanding, accepting the jacket and shrugging it on.

“Plus, I’m thoroughly warmed up,” you added cheekily, causing him to chuckle incredulously again. With a sigh, he leaned in, cradling your jaw in one large hand and pressed a sweet lingering kiss to your forehead.

You could melt on spot.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. Let me know when you get home safe?” he asked of you gently, tugging at your heartstrings some more, because of course he did.

“I will. You too?”

His smile was soft and sweet as he promised to do so, clearly touched by your care. Well, that made two of you.

“Goodnight, Steve. Thank you for tonight.”

“Thank you.”

You breathed in deeply, dropping a last kiss to his cheek and quickly spun on your heels to walk away – because if you wavered a second longer, you might have not left at all.

Sure, you looked back at him several times, finding him standing where you had left him, his eyes following your receding figure. But you kept walking.

And once you couldn’t see him anymore, you broke into a fit of giggles, hiding your face in your palms to muffle your delighted squeal.

You were just coming back to the dorms from the date with Steve Rogers.

And despite the hiccups, it was the best damn thing in the world, leaving you giddy and already craving another date and more. Your cheeks hurt from smiling by the time you made it to the dorms, your heart pounding excitedly the whole time.

As promised, you let Steve know you made there safe, earning another text with a heart. It only made you squeal again, fingers frantic as you replied – and with a kiss for goodnight so he knew you truly enjoyed your night, ending included.

What he didn’t know was that maybe, just maybe, the next evening you wrote a tiny story in which you elaborated at what could happen if he ever pushed you against a wall and kissed your breathless ever again.

And hopefully, he would.

Soon.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Attached masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

...how it happened? I was asked about the first date, very kindly and in a no pressure manner.

S: Hey, just out of curiosity, you don’t really have to answer… how do you imagine their first date went?

me: Hm, let me think, I guess, mm, it would be like this--- oh shit. Oh no. It’s gonna be a fic again, isn’t it? Maybe I could finally write a headcanon or a drabble--- sigh.

As if I could ever.

Thank you for reading :-*

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #professor steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #captain america au #modern au #professor au #college au #steve rogers #captain america #student reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #word is that we might work it out #attached #attached: word is that we might work it out #anika ann

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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years

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What I Thought About "Echoes of the Past" from The Owl House

Salutations, random people on the internet who most certainly won’t read this. I am an Ordinary Schmuck. I write stories and reviews and draw comics and cartoons.

What probably gets debated the most in the fandom is the legitimacy behind King being the King of Demons. Some believe that there's truth to his statement, while others, like me, like to think that he was just some stray Eda picked up off the streets. Either option seemed likely, especially since Season One never gave an answer that leaned one way or the other.

Then here comes the writers finally answering the question of who King is in episode THREE of Season Two! Because, again, they don't waste time on giving fans exactly what they want.

Fans wanted answers behind King, we got 'em, and analyzing what those answers mean requires going deep into spoilers. So if you haven't checked the episode out yet, I highly recommend that you do. Trust me, it's worth seeing.

Now let's review, shall we?

WHAT I LIKED

Luz Experimenting with Spells: Hey, look! More proof that Luz isn't an idiot like some people flanderize her to be!

But, seriously though, this is a perfect little thread to introduce into the story. Luz collecting knowledge from Lilith's old books and past work she and Eda made adds to Luz's intelligence while also providing a believable explanation for how she gets new spells. It's also nice to see that she has this little notebook (or spellbook) to help see what works and what doesn't. It's a level of experimentation that proves her dedication to becoming a witch while also exemplifying how she isn't stupid. Occasionally reckless, sure, but you can't say that the person who figured out an invisibility spell through showing her work is also an idiot.

Francios with a Knife: How did Francois get a knife? I don't know. But the fact that a random knife plopped out behind him with little to no explanation is funny, and I will not hear otherwise.

I don't make the rules. I just abide by them.

Luz’s Invisibility Spell: I breezed past this, but I honestly love this invisibility spell. More specifically, I love that there's a limiter. It can turn you, objects, and people you're in contact with invisible, but only as long as you can hold your breath. It helps make the spell something the characters can't always rely on, which is appreciated. Because if it works as long as they concentrate, what's stopping them from sneaking into Belos' castle and assassinating him in his sleep? It's a smart way of explaining why they can't always rely on something, despite how insanely useful it is.

Luz: Let's gush about Luz some more, shall we!

"Echoes of the Past" is another episode that has Luz on top form. She is constantly supportive of King, even if Lilith has a point in the dangers of indulging his fantasy as a powerful tyrant. Doing so would cause more harm than good, especially when King finds out Luz doesn't believe him, but her going along with it was all done with the best of intentions. Luz doesn't want to hurt her friend, and even if she did in the long run, she still makes up for it by helping King learn more about his past.

And, as another reminder, Luz isn't stupid. She's the first to say they should leave when it's clear how dangerous the castle is and is quick to figure out there should be more at the top. Luz is a loyal and caring friend who's also guarded and intuitive when the situation calls for it. This episode understood that, so here's hoping other fans will too.

Lilith: Yeah, she's still growing on me.

I feel like this episode shows a better idea of Lilith's place in the group more than the past two. She's a person who's obsessed with knowledge and learning but considers herself above the jovial nature of King, Luz, and definitely Eda. Therefore, she acts as the perfect catalyst for what jumpstarts this week's adventure. It doesn't surprise me in the slightest that she almost instantly dismisses King's claims due to considering herself more knowledgeable than everyone else. Still, I like how she's willing to believe King once she finally sees evidence that seemingly proves he really was the King of Demons, to the point of referring to him as "her lord." Hooty does the same thing, but it comes across as him fearing for his own life and choosing to be friends with someone who could maybe kill him in an instant. For Lilith, her newfound respect comes from the desire to learn more, and it's that desire that makes Lilith an enjoyable character to me. It's adorable to see, and it has some comedic flavor in moments like when she dismisses everyone else and their emotional revelations to take pictures of the carvings around her. I'm sure she'll cause some controversy like other characters with rushed reformations, but for me, I'm more than ok with her addition to the main cast.

More of Lilith’s and Hooty’s Friendship: HOW DOES THIS WORK!?

ON PAPER, IT SEEMS LIKE IT WOULD BE A BAD IDEA, BUT IT F**KING WORKS!

HOW?!

WHAT BLACK MAGIC DID THESE WRITERS USE TO MAKE A RELATIONSHIP SO UNEXPECTED COME ACROSS AS SO ENDEARING AND ADORABLE?!

And where can I get some for my stories...just asking.

But seriously: HOW?!

Hooty Making Himself Portable: Ah, yes. The classic bit where a character does something horrifically grotesque off-screen, and we have nothing but character reactions and sound effects to imagine what happened between shot A and shot B. It's an oldie, but given how hard I was laughing (mostly because of Luz's gagging), it's still a goodie.

Eda’s Portable Bathtub Boat Thing: I mean...I was expecting Eda would use something to catch up with the others, but...that thing...well...I mean, I'm still laughing just by thinking about it. That should tell you how well executed this joke was.

John Luke: ...I'm gonna go ahead and add him to the list because HOLY S**T was this guy disturbing! From his design to his movements to even the sounds he makes when moving, everything about John Luke screams as something that will stay in kids' nightmares for a while. Now, this might seem like a complaint, but to be honest, I'm more than alright with how creepy John Luke is. I highly doubt adult viewers will consider John Luke scary, but I guarantee he'll terrify some of the youngins that this series is aimed for. And that's fine. It's good to creep kids out a little bit with something somewhat scary, as it might introduce them to more good horror stories later in life.

Plus, the reveal that John Luke was only a guard for King is pretty solid narratively speaking. You can see how John never really meant to hurt King aside from one accident when Eda escaped with him. If you want to read into it, I guess it might be questionable to tell kids that something that looks dangerous is secretly nice, but that's really nitpicky, in my opinion. John Luke was a fantastic threat that is designed and animated well, with a solidly executed twist. Some might hate what he presents, most will fear him, but we can all agree on one thing: His theme is awesome (can I get the track for that, please)!

King’s Backstory: Finally, at long last, we know who King is, thus putting an end to a year-long debate. And I fully mean it when I say that the writers gave the best possible answer. Because in a way, everyone was right. Yes, King was just an animal that Eda decided to adopt, like the nature-loving hippie she is inside (She's got the hair for it). However, while he may not be the King of Demons himself, he is still the son of someone who deserves that title. So while he isn't the King, there's a chance he might be the Prince. Once again, there's no direct answer, but given how the writers came up with something that pleases everyone while still providing more questions for debate, it acts as a brilliant move, in my opinion. So whatever answer we get next, I'm sure it will be just as perfect.

Baby King:

My heart was not prepared for that level of cuteness!

King’s Breakdown: NOR WAS IT READY FOR THIS LEVEL OF SADNESS!

But in all seriousness, a HUGE round of applause to Alex Hirsch for his performance in this episode. He expertly captured the raw emotions of shock, anger, betrayal, and sadness that King must have felt when finding out that everything he believed he was is a lie. It's one of those moments where I don't hear a person voicing lines in a booth (or wherever the hell VAs are voicing characters nowadays), but instead hear a living person being emotionally torn apart. It was heartbreaking seeing King so vulnerable as he's so guarded with his emotions. Seeing him like this adds so much more layers to a character that many would mistake him as a cute, comedic animal sidekick. But just like with Luz, there's more to him than people will tell you.

“I don’t even know what’s real or fake anymore!”: I'm just pointing out this line because I believe it's what convinces Luz to help King learn more about who he is. Hell, not knowing what's real or fake is the main reason why Luz got sent away in the first place, so I feel like she can relate to King when he's in a similar predicament.

Hooty and Lilith vs John Luke: This was just a cool scene with some epic moments of dodging John Luke's attacks and some funny ones, like how Hooty said the word "pain." It's a ten out of ten that I would rewind to watch again.

King’s Other Horn: I'd question the logistics of how a horn that got broken off when he was a baby still manages to fit perfectly in the present...but it is neat symbolism of King accepting his past and letting it be a part of him, so who cares?

(The fact that the colors of the broken-off piece don't match the rest of the horn is nice attention to detail as well.)

WHAT I DISLIKED

It's a Little Too Predictable: I pretty much figured almost every little twist the episode offers. But, I'm willing to say that's because I'm in my twenties, and I've seen enough stories similar to this one, so I'm more likely to know what will happen. The little monsters watching this will see it for the first time, so they'll most likely get more surprised than me...And that was my only complaint about the episode...which is more of a personal problem than an actual issue...I guess that means it's perfect.

IN CONCLUSION

"Echoes of the Past" is an easy A+ in my book. It gives lore and backstory that furtherly develops the characters that episodes like this should. It also tells a tragic story about King that still sprinkles in a few good jokes every now and again to lighten up the mood. Sure, there are some nitpicks I could mention (how did King remember his own birth?). But when the good stuff is done so well, what's the point of dwelling on small, insignificant issues? This is still a phenomenal episode that flew past all expectations I had for it, and it continues the winning steak this season is having so far.

(But that's still three home runs in a row. Meaning that a stinker is coming. Ooiee, is it coming!)

#the owl house #the owl house season 2 #king of demons #luz noceda #lilith clawthorne #toh hooty #the owl house reviews #what i thought about

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ahopelessromantic · 4 years

Text

Love in the Time of Corona ➳ S. Reid

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Warnings: Some mentions of anxiety, Spencer is in love and forgets how to act like a person

Word count: 2,5k

Prompts: 23, ‘You love me?’

Getting locked in a hotel with your colleague hadn’t exactly been in your plans. But maybe spending quarantine with Spencer wasn’t even that bad of a thing.

“Are you sure?” Chewing on the insides of your cheeks, you watched Spencer talk to Hotch on the phone. “Alright, call us if anything changes.” With a sigh, he hung up and turned to look at you. “Hotch is trying to pull some strings to get us back home, but for now we’re stuck here.” You nodded, your gaze darting around the hotel lobby. “I need to call Garcia, she needs to know where my spare key is so she can get in and feed Goblin, and shit, I probably don’t have enough food for him for two weeks at home, someone needs to-“ Spencer calmed you down with a hand on your shoulder. “Hotch said Garcia already went to your apartment and fed him, she knew where the key was from when she watered your plants last time you visited your parents. Goblin is well taken care of.” You exhaled and looked into his eyes, scanning them for any form of anxiousness. But there was only kindness in them, and you relaxed. If Spencer wasn’t freaking out, then why should you?

“Come on.” He said, a light smile on his lips. “Let’s go check out how badly assorted the hotel library is.”

Goblin was your cat back home in Quantico, a spoiled diva you loved unconditionally and worried about endlessly. You hadn’t exactly expected the state you were in to go into corona lockdown so suddenly and the whole ordeal made your whole body buzz with anxiety. Of course you wanted to protect as many people as possible from getting sick, and under normal circumstances you would have gone into quarantine without a word of complaint, but you just really wanted to go home. You normally didn’t have a problem with the middle-class hotels your employer booked for you when you were away on cases, but then again you also normally didn’t have to spend long amounts of time in them. Spencer and you had been sent ahead to go check out a possible serial killer case, and the rest of the team would have followed once you had confirmed there were lives at stake. But now, instead of investigating, all you could do was aimlessly roam the hotel’s dull hallways, wishing for a change of scenery or at least, your own four walls. The only distraction and good thing in all of this was Spencer, who was doing an amazing job at keeping you sane. Being alone with your thoughts so much wasn’t exactly the best for your mental health, and if anyone in the world could understand that it was Spencer. He knew what it was like when your own thoughts became a weapon sharp enough to destroy you.

“Look at this idiot.” You chuckled and turned your phone so Spencer could see the picture Penelope had sent you. “He knows exactly that he’s not allowed on the kitchen counter.” Spencer smiled, zooming on the picture of your cat passed out in the sink. “Looks like you raised him well.” He teased, causing you to throw your napkin at him. “Hey! I’ll have you know that I am a very devoted cat mother.” You both laughed, only to be interrupted by the maid that was on breakfast duty. She sighed and sent you both a dreamy look before pulling out her notepad. “Such a sweet couple you two are, makes me miss my younger days. Can I bring you anything else?” Instead of telling her about the second tea you had been meaning to order you just blinked at her in shock. Spencer across from you seemed just as frozen, the two of you probably looking utterly stupid to the hotel’s staff member. She just rolled her eyes and started loading your plates onto her tray. “Not there yet? Okay, I’ll leave you to it.” Once she was gone you both erupted into baffled laughter. It had been eight days in the hotel already, and you were slowly starting to make friends with the staff, but so far you hadn’t really been that close with them. Each day was a mere repetition of the one before, and you were barely clinging to the last shreds of normalcy and sanity anymore. Spencer and you met up for breakfast in the mornings, tried to work on the case for a bit just for the sake of feeling like you still had something meaningful to do, went to lunch, sought shelter in the tiny library that was mostly there for show, had dinner and then, sometimes, you went for a drink in the hotel lobby bar. The two of you were growing closer by the day. It was slowly beginning to feel like Spencer was just an extension of your own limbs instead of a whole different person. You had learned long ago that once Spencer felt comfortable around someone he latched onto them, but now it felt like your souls were truly melting together.

“There you are.” He spoke softly, sitting down across from you. You just acknowledged him with a smile, playing with the coaster of your drink. “I went ahead and ordered your favourite.” You mumbled and watched him nod. Spencer could tell something was off, feeling slightly helpless over how to help you. “You look awfully lost in thought today.” Surprised at his words you looked him in the eyes, not yet used to him being so tuned into your emotions. “I just-“ You stopped yourself to sigh heavily. “I feel like I’m slowly losing my mind. I can’t sleep properly and when I do, I have these really vivid, weird dreams, I miss my apartment and my cat… this just isn’t exactly how I expected this case to go.” Spencer nodded in understanding. “According to a research centre in France, there has been a 35% increase in dream recall, and participants of the study are reporting 15% more negative dreams than usual. Dream experts believe that the withdrawal from our usual environments and daily stimuli forces our subconscious minds to transform the invisible virus into a lot of different things in our dreams. Actually, it’s perfectly normal to be having weird dreams right now. I have them too.” You felt a warm feeling bloom in your chest. Whenever your mind got the best of you these days Spencer was there to bring you back to reality again. He was the ratio to your emotio. “Thank you.”, you mumbled shyly. He smiled. “Come on, let’s get you to bed. You need to get your mind off things.” Conveniently, your hotel rooms were right next to each other, so even after you parted ways for the night you didn’t feel too far from him. For some reason though, that specific night was the worst one for you since being quarantined in the hotel. Even after two hours of shifting you couldn’t find into the realms of sleep, despite feeling exhausted and drained from doing nothing all day. You finally decided to get up and make yourself a cup of tea, loudly stumbling over one of your shoes on the way to the electric kettle. You groaned when your behind met with the floor, not even the carpet properly cushioning your fall. Great. You had quite literally arrived at the bottom of things. A knock at the door ripped you out of your thoughts and, limping slightly, you made your way to your room’s entrance. When you opened the door your face was met with none other’s than Spencer’s, a worried look on his face. “Are you okay? I’ve been hearing you shift around for ages and then I heard a loud thump.” You smiled sheepishly. “I’m good. I just couldn’t sleep again and tripped on my way to make myself some tea.” He looked at you, something like worry in his eyes. And then, suddenly, he hugged you tightly. “Spence, what are you doing?” You asked with wide eyes, face smushed against his chest. “Did you know that hugging releases oxytocin? It’s a powerful hormone that works as an antidote for depressive feelings and anxiety. It also underlies individual and social trust. Hugs even affect our physical well being, for example by lowering our blood pressure. Scientifically-“ “Spencer, I love you, but for the love of god please shut up now.” You murmured, long having closed your eyes and leaned into his warm embrace. It was only then you realised what exactly you had just said. You felt him tense up. “You…” His hand on your back suddenly felt like it was going to burn through your skin. “You love me?” You leaned slightly away from him to look him in the face, surprised about your own words. “I think I do.” You spoke in wonder. Apparently, your subconscious had already known about your feelings for Spencer for way longer than your conscious self. But instead of answering, Spencer stepped away from you, a frazzled look on his face. “I… excuse me.” Helplessly, you watched him disappear back into his room, fear speeding up your heartbeat. What had just happened? Had the lockdown madness finally gotten to you? With trembling fingers, you closed your door behind you. That night you didn’t catch a minute of sleep.

The whole next day you couldn’t find Spencer anywhere. It seemed like he was actively hiding from you, and it made your chest hurt from rejection. He was smart and most of all he was your friend, you had really expected him to at least talk it out with you. But no, rather than that it seemed like he had never stepped foot into that damned hotel. It wasn’t until the late evening hours, when you had already gotten ready for bed, that you saw him again. He had knocked on your door, standing in front of you with an apologetic look on his face and three flowers clutched in one hand. They seemed oddly familiar to you, and at second glance you realised that he had stolen them from the hotel lobby. Before you could even begin to ask, he sent you a pleading look “Please, please don’t say anything right now. I want you to know exactly how I feel, and I practised it in the mirror but quite frankly I have never been this nervous in my life and I might forget something if you start speaking.” His voice was shaky, he was stumbling over his words like you had never seen him do before. “I’m sorry. For running off yesterday. I’ve been trying to figure out a way to tell you this for the longest time and then you just said it so casually and for a moment all my fuses burnt through. I’m so in love with you and I am so terrified because I’ve never felt like this, and I know that once I tell you this it will be real, and my life will change forever. I didn’t think there was a person out there like you, a person for me. There is no scientific proof for soulmates but you just… fit with me. I love you too, (Y/N). I love you.” His words had rendered you speechless. You felt tears run down your cheeks, and it was only when you felt Spencer’s hand wipe them away that you returned to reality. You placed your hand on his, further leaning into his touch, and sobbed. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, I’m sorry. This isn’t really my strong suit.” You laughed and pressed a kiss to his hand. “It’s not mine either. And don’t worry Spence, you were perfect. Thank you for having the courage to tell me. Just please, never run off on me like that again.” He leaned his forehead against yours and closed his eyes, a serene smile on his lips. “I promise.”

From there on, the rest of quarantine passed by incredibly quick. Now, you were actually glad you were locked in with Spencer. It gave the two of you the perfect time and opportunity to explore the very nature of your relationship. You started sleeping over in each other’s rooms, wearing each other’s clothes, at night Spencer lulled you to sleep by reading to you. When Hotch called once the two weeks were over to tell you that you would be able to return home with the jet you were almost disappointed. But at least this you could board the jet holding each other’s hands without worrying about anyone seeing. And it wasn’t too bad either that you had had your first time with each other and joined the mile-high club at the same time. You were never going to be able to look at those leather couches the same way again. Touched down back home in Quantico you had the orders to return straight home and quarantine for another fourteen days. Stood in front of your car you could tell that the two of you were trying to prolong your time together, rambling on about the most random things just to avoid having to say goodbye for two weeks. But watching him walk away after one last, long kiss filled your heart with such aching that you called out for him to stop. “Wait, Spence!” He turned around, an almost relieved look on his face. “Yeah?” He walked back to you, gripping the strap of his bag. “I know this is crazy, and maybe it’s too much considering we haven’t even officially talked about whether or not we’re dating now but… I just… hate the thought of suddenly not seeing you for two weeks straight after seeing your cute face every day for what feels like so long. So… do you want to quarantine at my apartment? We can get some of your clothes on the way there, and I promise I’ll cook whatever you want. I just don’t want to miss your morning cuddles anymore.” A wide smile had spread across his features while you had talked, and before you had even fully finished he had already nodded enthusiastically. “Thank god you asked, I didn’t know how to.” Both laughing, you got into your car.

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.” Morgan groaned when he saw you and Spencer enter the BAU together once quarantine was over. You didn’t even have to hold hands for everyone to see that you were a couple now. “When did they start dating??” Emily looked at you with a grin, crossing her arms. “Technically, it doesn’t look like they started dating. They were just locked in together for so long that they fell in love.” Hotch joined your little group, the usual frown on his face. “Enough about the lovebirds, we have a case to get to. But-“ He turned to look at you and suddenly there was a teasing grin on his face as well. “Looks like quarantine treated you well, right?” You just rolled your eyes, burying your face in your hands. “Not you too, Hotch, not you too!”

Spencer actually didn’t even end up leaving your apartment once quarantine was over. In fact, he had gotten so comfortable that after two months, he terminated the contract for his own flat. Now, every Sunday morning, it wasn’t just you spread out on your couch with your cat anymore. It was the two of you.

#requested #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer x reader #mgg #Matthew gray gubler #Matthew gray gubler x reader #criminal minds #BAU #BAU Team #BAU x Reader #prompts

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transsexualhamlet · 3 years

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sherlock holmes reactions part 4 (?) ive lost count already but unsurprisingly ive grown even more attached to him

using this as the cover image because i made him a playlist. cause im awful

no legit this is gonna need a read more because it's SO LONG SHIHEWIESHEFSHIEWHF

Had three mental breakdowns this week and realized i do in fact kin sherlock motherfucking holmes. this does not bode well for anything in my life mentally I've diagnosed him with so many things

Oh boy lol you want the list I think hes autistic (undisputed honestly) plus also adhd but on top of that there's the manic depression and uhhh the bpd lmao I dont even think that's it those are just. the obvious ones

But yeah man's a fucking mess and a shit person but in the same way as me so 👍

Some highlights I thought were very funny:

watson: we are in fact going to be waltzing into a place where people are Shooting People you do not have your gun. this is a problem

sherlock: don't worry watson I have my trusty stick!

watson: visible pain

This clearly happens like every day or so with them

but yeah there were some really honestly sweet scenes with them at the apartment and why am i getting soft over the crusty man being gay

have you considered tho. have you considered them

have you considered sherlock, who usually only plays absolute garbage on his violin serenading watson to sleep when he was tired and in pain and watson being so fucking in love with the man and waxing poetic about falling asleep to his music and waking up to see him fallen asleep on the couch next to him and oh my god them

They're just really sweet together for such a completely dysfunctional couple so much of the time lol I just. Sherlock being like.

Sherlock half of the time: watson you're fucking stupid. no i won't take care of my personal needs stfu. watson get a goddamn life. watson shut up. watson no one cares about your goddamn opinion. no i need to disturb you in the middle of the night it's for science. hey watson mind if i manipulate mansplain malewife

Sherlock the other half of the time: HELLO SIR YOU ARE MY FAVORITE MAN TO EVER MAN HELLO MAY I SPEND THE REST OF MY DAYS WITH YOU HELLO I WILL DO ANYTHING FOR YOU WE ARE PERFECT MATCHES I LOVE YOU AND I NEED YOU YOURE SO MUCH BETTER THAN ME PLEASE MARRY ME

They're... they certainly are.

ALSO OH MY GOD.

THIS ONE TIME WHEN SHERLOCK WAS JUST PACING AROUND THE ROOM AT 3 AM GOING "IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE >:(((" AND HUDSON LIKE BARGED IN TO COMPLAIN AND THEN WATSON WAS LIKE DUDE YOU GOTTA STOP DOING THIS AND PROCEEDS TO SAY THE LINE "YOU ARE KNOCKING YOURSELF UP, OLD MAN"

BAHGHSFHGRHEWHEWHIFEW

BRB SOBBING

CALLING HIM AN OLD MAN???? KNOCKING HIMSELF UP?? I DONT KNOW WHATS FUNNIER

The main highlight of this part was I have now gotten to see him have a great time watching his homo homie get married

Its so fucking funny.......

I was prepared for a funny reaction by yuumori sherlock's face when he said it lol but. Damn i was really not prepared tbh

watson: I'm engaged!

sherlock: *pained groaning*

watson: do you... not like her?

sherlock: no she's fine she's great you'll be wonderful together bUT I HATE IT WHEN PEOPLE ARE HETEROSEXUAL WATSON DO I HAVE TO MARRY MYSELF THEN WATSON? ARE YOU GOING TO MAKE ME MARRY MYSELF.

watson: yeah... yeah... fair, I feel really bad because you did this whole case and I got a girlfriend out of it and all you got was me leaving you alone fuck man im sorry what are you gonna do without me

sherlock, highly sarcastic: dont worry watson I've always got my handy cocaine! *pulls it out and gets high in front of watson just as he's about to leave*

watson: *in fucking agony*

sherlock: good for you!

I DONT EVEN- THIS SCENE KILLED ME MULTIPLE TIMES OVER WHAT

ITS SO GODDAMN NONCHELANT ABOUT IT SHERLOCK IS JUST LIKE YEAH I WILL IN FACT NOT BE MENTALLY HEALTHY IF YOU ARE NOT WITH ME 24/7 BUT WHATEVER YOU DO YOU /S

I'd like to apologize to watson on sherlock's behalf lmao. man is being a bit too codependent on main

The last thing about sign of four I do need to address is yeah, there's the Horrific Amounts Of Racism in that one and the whiplash hearing it is just ridiculous because they seem to be so knowledgeable in all other areas and fairly... politically correct, taking sherlock's original misogyny as a purposeful character flaw, but then they just mention someone indigenous once and suddenly its all parrotting racist propaganda and just... really awful shit. There's no way I'm gonna speak for the group that just got absolutely hate crimed here but anyone can tell the author just has no clue what he's fucking talking about and it's physically painful.

And I don't know, it's just so bad it seems out of character? Doyle's making these motherfuckers say shit that honestly, Sherlock would know better about. And especially Watson. Come on, you cannot tell me watson is mentally capable of being prejudiced against someone. Please do not make him that way.

I'm not sure how to handle it specifically, or what's the proper way I should handle something like that in a media I otherwise like. Is it ok to say Doyle was clearly a piece of shit on the matter and separate those characters from his bias or is that insensitive?

I don't know, I was Not a fan of it and I'm glad to see they've at least finally shut up about the guy

But anyway yeah, uhhhh onto the short stories because I'm trying to read those before I get to the final problem

Scandal in Bohemia was a fucking ride, first of all, before we even get to Sherlock's girlboss arc we have to discuss how gay the whole situation was and how Doyle's attempt at making them less gay failed spectacularly

Like he's all "ah yes I need to marry off watson and uhhh make sherlock ummmm interact with a woman so they dont look gay" but he does it SO BADLY that it makes them look EVEN GAYER

cause i mean, even the conversation they had about watson getting married back in sign of four was gay af, but how Doyle handled things afterward was in no way straighter.

Cause you know, the man kind of wrote himself into a corner with the fact of Watson narrating these stories. So Watson has to be around to witness them, and to witness Sherlock's own thought process rather privately, so he has to be around sherlock at night, a lot. But trying to come up with a reason for that happening just... it didn't occur to Doyle. He just went. Ah yes this makes sense. And it's Watson just like Sleeping Over At Sherlock's like every other goddamn day and every time his wife leaves town and having them basically still live that cute domestic home life but they have absolutely no excuses for doing it anymore. It's quite funny

Like it was gay already the way they interacted when they officially lived together but it was like, a necessity for them. Now it's not, Watson just comes over because he goddamn wants to, and it's hilarious to me.

LIKE IDK I THINK THEY KIND OF BROKE UP FOR A YEAR OR SO BC OF WATSON GETTING MARRIED AND THEY LIKE DONT HAVE CONTACT WITH ONE ANOTHER BUT ONE DAY WATSON JUST INEXPLICABLY HAS THE URGE TO COME VISIT SHERLOCK ON NO NOTICE AND THEN SUDDENLY THEY ARE TOGETHER NEAR 24/7 AGAIN LIKE BARELY ANYTHING CHANGED AHIEHOEWH

SIT DOWN AND TRY TO TELL ME THOSE ARE NOT HOMOSEXUALS

Watson walks in on no fucking notice after a full year and Sherlock is just. In the middle of some experiment obviously but hes like

Sherlock, carrying around unidenfiable chemical mixtures: W A T S O N you look good you look good! i see you've gained seven pounds!!

watson: uh. thanks??? Hey lol *awkwardly waves* Uh um Wanted to Uhm sEe you

Sherlock: ABOUT gODDAMN TIME AND YES WONDERFUL LOOK LOOK SIT DOWN I HAVE THINGS TO INFODUMP ABOUT

watson: :) ok :) *turns to camera* and we were back to the old days

sherlock: makes a deduction

watson: wowwwwwwwwwwww !! so true bestie !!

sherlock: !!!!!!!!! :))) !!!!! :))) uh fuck im supposed to be smooth Its Elementary Lol

watson: *turns to camera* when i stroke his ego like this and compliment him he blushes like a girl like i just complimented his dress so i do it more because he likes it. this is a homie trait

watson: well i should probably get going! my wife will notice that i am gone my dear buddy bro homie!

sherlock: NO DONT LEAVE IM LOST WITHOUT YOU (pretty much a direct quote lol) your. wife doesn't. get back home until monday. I know this because I am smart and definitely have not been stalking you.

watson: alright :)))))

AND THEN HE FUCKING SLEEPS OVER LMAO FUCKING HOMOS

So yeah they're right back where they were before pretty much and there's a case bc of course there is

And honestly I think this short story specifically was so insane mostly just because of how absolutely fast it all went. Yuumori kind of made me believe the original Irene Adler was more of an important character than she really is? And I think that's. Honestly so funny. Motherfucker shows up for ten pages, girlbosses her way around town, and changes sherlock's entire opinion of the female gender while still keeping him gay?

LIKE NO LOL SHES NOT IN ANY WAY A LOVE INTEREST AND WATSON GOES OUT OF HIS WAY TO SPECIFY THE FACT THAT IN NO WORLD WOULD THEY HAVE BEEN ROMANTICALLY INVOLVED BECAUSE. SHERLOCK. DIDN'T DATE WOMEN.

HE WAS JUST??? SO IMPRESSED AND SHELL SHOCKED BY HER EXISTENCE HE DECIDED IT WAS TIME FOR GIRLBOSS APPRECIATION DAY TODAY AND ALL DAYS HENCEFORTH???

AND THEY HAVE LIKE O N E INTERACTION?? God, the power this woman(?) has. Watson looks at her once like. damb shawty 😳 and she's like "no<3" and he's like FUCK

Like yeah it's pretty much just the king walking up like "help girl the whore is blackmailing me" and sherlock being like "ok lol this will be easy" and then it proceeded to not in fact be easy or even possible

sherlock like... posed as a dead body and tried to get her to give up the location of the photo but she out-acted him and skipped the town the next day after doing the 'good night mr. sherlock holmes' thing with sherlock completely tricked

and she just. sends a letter like "dear sherlock holmes. you're a fucking idiot and i think it's funny that you lost. nice job tho mad respect" and sherlock just SHORT CIRCUITS

the king comes back a bit later like "hey Dude where's my Photo" and sherlock's like oh yeah uhhhhhhhhhhh about that and the king is like HOW COULD IT POSSIBLY HAVE BEEN THAT GODDAMN HARD i would have dated someone more noble if she wasn't so pretty i swear im on a whole different level from her

and then. GIRLBOSSIFIED SHERLOCK HOLMES RESPONDS "from what I have seen of the lady, she seems indeed to be on a very different level from your majesty" ABSEHHESHEFHHFES ROASTED

and the dude just LEAVES

After that I read a few more of the short stories and well the highlights I got from that pretty much were these conversations

Watson: sherlock. honey. have you. eaten anything today

Sherlock: IT DIDNT OCCUR TO ME DEAR WATSON

Watson: ITS FIVE PM

and:

Sherlock: *having one of his Moment Moments at three in the goddamn mornig* GRRRR CRIME ISNT WHAT IT USED TO BE

Watson: MY DEAR SHERCOCK WHAT IS CRIME S U P P O S E D TO BE LIKE ACCORDING TO YOU

Sherlock: no one's original anymore fucking copycats

Watson: so you want the criminals to make things harder for you specifically.

Sherlock, exasperated: yes!

I love them your honor.

#rowan's hyperfixation essays #rowan screams into the void #rowan views moriarty #sherlock holmes

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adventuresasmrsfindley · 3 years

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Alllllllllllright. Buckle up, because I am about to ramble. I even logged in on my desktop which I don’t even think I’ve ever done because this is going to be so long.

Work.

It’s bad. I’ve dropped hints but I can’t remember how much I’ve openly talked about this. There is someone on my team who is slacking...so bad. It’s been going on for about 2 years (which is ridiculous all in itself) and the last 6 months or so since we have been working from home it’s gotten really bad. She is a level below me but still a manager and has 2 direct reports who are suffering because she cannot do her job properly. It all came to a head a little over a week ago. We had a meeting with my boss’s boss and she was supposed to prepare her staff and I was supposed to prepare mine. I gave her very clear directions about what to do and she said she would. Well she didn’t. And had I not gone above my responsibilities to prepare her staff members for the meeting, they would have looked like complete idiots in front of a senior manager. It really bothered me. If you want to fuck off, that’s one thing. But do not take others with you. My boss could tell I was extremely irritated and asked to call me last Thursday so we could talk. I completely unleashed on her. I really didn’t mean to dog on this girl so bad but I couldn’t hold it in any longer. It’s completely unfair that she has gotten away with so much over the last 2 years and my boss knows it, there are just so many hoops to jump through when you try to fire someone in corporate America. Obviously my boss can’t give me the specifics of exactly what is going on, but she dropped some pretty obvious hints. I think we are finally on the road to dealing with the issue..but it is not going to be fun. Everything has to be documented. I’m having to basically hand hold this person and then BCC my boss showing her that I’m doing so. I have to ride my staff 10x harder to make sure they are doing everything by the book while this is all going on and they have even less of a clue about what’s happening behind the scenes than I do. So I just look like a psycho micro manager and I HATE that. It just all sucks so bad. I really hope by the first of the year, this person on my team is a distant memory but I guess we will see. Motherhood.

My kid is broken. After sleeping through the night for months in his own bed, we are nearing the end of week 3 of him waking in the middle of the night. He has slept through the night ONE time in those 3 weeks. I’m having such a hard time. Mostly because it is giving me flashbacks to his baby days when he did not sleep and I did not know what I was doing and it took a terrible mental toll on me. That’s exactly how I feel again...but worse. Because I got a taste of sleeping through the night and I know he can do it. I’m sure the rut we are in is partly my fault because I’m just too tired to try and rock and sooth him at 1 or 2 AM so I just go to the guest bed and put him in there with me. So now I think he just expects that he gets to sleep with me for half the night. Which, great. I’m flattered, kid, that you love me so much and want to be up my butt 24/7 but I miss my own bed. I miss feeling rested. Sleep has 100000% been the hardest part of becoming a mom for me and it is 100000% of the reason I will not have any more children. Even after 2 years of dealing with a not great sleeper, I cannot get used to waking up in the night. My attitude is total shit after having to be up and I get so frustrated and it’s just...not good. It’s really wearing me down. I thought maybe this was a regression but 3 weeks? It feels excessive. Maybe this is just who he is. Idk. It’s so hard. Other than sleep, he is great though. He’s getting so smart and really starting to talk so much. I cannot believe in 3 short months I will have a 2 year old. Insane.

Marriage.

Thissssss is the doozy. I made a few posts about how Cole and I were not on the same page with a potential move. We live in MO, and he wants to move to IA. The reason...feels ridiculous to me. He is an avid hunter and has been his whole life and he swears the wildlife scene is better in IA. I could go into the details but they are boring so anyways he wants to move there because it’s hard to hunt in IA if you are not a resident. We have talked a lot about this over the last year and I THOUGHT we were on the same page. In about 5 years when Knox is out of daycare and our cars are paid off and Cole is done with his apprenticeship, we would move to IA and build our dream house on some land. I was totally fine with this plan. Well about 3 weeks ago he came home from work and had decided the plan needed to be moved up, and we need to move next year. It really threw me for a loop. He explained how his boss had talked to him about how it would be better to do his apprenticeship where he planned to work long term instead of journeying out and then trying to move to a company that doesn’t know him from Adam. It was really confusing to me how he and I, his wife, had come up with a plan and then one conversation with his boss...who he has known for like 6 months? completely changed his mind. We had a lotttttttttttttt of not fun conversations. I didn’t feel like rushing the move was smart financially. He couldn’t see where I was coming from and I couldn’t see where he was coming from. For 3 weeks it was like every time we tried to discuss it, it went so south and got so bad. We finally just had to agree not to talk about it anymore. After a few days he basically was like, forget it. I’m not going to stress and cause tension in our marriage. If you don’t think it’s right we won��t do it. And that was all fine and dandy until it wasn’t. We got in a huge fight one Sunday morning and a lot of really nasty things were said. And then we kind of moved past it. Until we didn’t. So really like the last month has just felt....hard. We have had to have a lot of really honest conversations about how we have basically nothing in common..as far as like interests and hobbies go. He’s a small town guy. I’m a big city girl. Not that these differences aren’t able to be overcome.. it just feels...like a lot. And I know it’s not helping that I am not in a good place on my own mentally. We got into it again last night and I pretty much lost my shit. I am not at all proud of how I acted...but it led to some productive conversations..I think. We are trying to move forward together but at the end of the day we both have a lot of demons that we have never dealt with and they seem to be rearing their ugly heads a lot more lately. Idk if it’s just that life is really stressful this year. The fact that we are parents now. The fact that we have been together for 6 years and have become..complacent in our relationship. I really don’t know. I do know that in February I talked to my doctor about starting some sort of counseling or therapy and then COVID happened and I kind of fucked it off. But i I think it’s a necessity. I’m to the point where I feel like if I don’t deal with all the shit going on inside my own head, I’m going to drive this marriage into the ground. It’s really freaking hard to admit that but it’s just something I have to face. Something we both have to face, honestly. Because we both have things we need to work on. Marriage is freaking hardddddd. Actually, life is just really hard. But we are both committed to putting in the work and I really hope that we can come out of this together, stronger. I want so badly for my son to grow up in a house with both of his parents...and to see us have a healthy relationship. I didn’t get that (until I was like 13 when my mom married my step dad) and it has had way more of an impact on my life than I really care to admit.

WOW. That got long. That felt good though. I haven’t really wanted to come on here because I knew i would just be negative and there is already so much negativity in the world right now but.. this is where I’m at. And I know a lot of you are going through really hard times too and struggling mentally. I think most of the country is, TBH, whether they admit it or not. I would say I’m ready for the year to be over but I’m not convinced it’s going to be better in 2021...

Also, wtf? I leave for like a week and come back and we are just posting our nudes now? Good for you, girls. I wish I had the confidence.

Love you all. If you read this...you’re a saint.

(Lastly, this is way too long, I am not proofreading. So ignore any typos.)

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theangrycomet · 3 years

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“Well that, would be telling.” - Kenny Blonko Tennyson

Prebirth: Wasn’t planned

Pregnancy went fine until her water broke 2 months early.

I head canon that the Revonnahgander birthing process is an EXCLUSIVELY female event where the expecting father’s mostly have to stay outside and get twitchy with worry. Their labor process is also on average 2 hours.

Ben was with Gwen dealing with Plumber business literally on the other side of the galaxy at the point when the ingeractic comm lines were fritzing

Rook was there for the first 8 hours

He said it was because the Plumber’s needed him to do some check ups on the Earth Plumber HQ

Ben just asked if he could keep an eye on his girls

Had a bad feeling if you will

Note* Rook didn’t know what he’d signed himself up for when he just stopped by

That was one of the most harrowing things he’d ever witness a human female do

The hospitals were also being a pain as to who got to be the ones to treat Ben 10,000’s wife until Dr. Priyanka Maheswaran saw what was going on, yelled at them for being idiots and got her where she needed to go

Her residents were surprised to say the least

“Dr. Kincaid, Dr. Vincent, come with me to the maternity ward”

Ben got there eventually, but only after she had dislocated Rook’s wrist

(writing this down I note I make her a wee violent during labor)

Rook was relieved of watching Kai while Gwennie accompanied him to get his wrist treated by one of the Residents.

Kenny was a weak baby, had to be monitored for about a month. Couldn’t go home for another week after that

After that ordeal of course his middle name would be Blonko.

Birthday October 6

Doesn’t have the spark

colorblind, specifically Deuteranomaly

It wasn’t discovered until he commented how its weird that Revonnahgander’s see brown as red

They see color very closely to humans, so Kenny ended up in a 4 hour argument with his Dad and Uncle Blonko on this until finally RB (Rook Ben) pulled up some tests for Kenny to take

He has glasses for them, but he never wears them

prefers the contacts

Smart

Able to unlock master control within 48 hours of receiving it

Eidetic memory so he doesn’t have to study as hard as say his sister

His mom makes sure he still does though

“School first, Heroing later.”

Straight A student

Can and will get on a soap box about whitewashed history

its the classes highlight

has started four major food fights to date

He still manages to forget to grab things when he leaves the house on his hover-board

Has trained Rocky to retrieve things for him

Cross-Dominant but pretends to be left handed

Culture geek like his mom

Loves to learn about the planets of his aliens

Will randomly pop up with some fun fact whenever possible

Actually, just a geek geek

Anime, sci-fi,

But still athletic

Top forward on his Soccer team

Took figure skating classes when he was little but will never admit it

Despite being popular at school, he didn’t really have any close friends before Devlin

Lost a lot of fairweather friends left once his Omnitrix was gone

Aside from Devlin, only one other person that wasn’t really his family still hung out with him

Will expand later

Mischief maker, mostly from boredom at school

They can never catch him though, especially since he’s gotten the omnitrix

Always has an excuse

Would MUCH rather come up with excuses from himself instead of facing the consequences of his own actions

He gets over this eventually

Doesn’t like Kevin. Like, at all.

Isn’t scared of him

Always passive aggressive with him

Despite this, he’s a lot more sympathetic than you’d expect from a Tennyson

As much as he loves his dad, he’s a mama’s boy

It’s easier to talk to her

Plus it’s easier to spend time with her, even with all her archeology digs and bleeding heart projects

Actually part of why he wanted to do hero work so badly was so he could spend more time with his dad

Hence when he was stripped of his Omnitrix, he so badly wanted to prove he could be a hero without it

And why he agreed to be Chrono Spanner

Uncle Blonko is his confidant about stuff he can’t talk to about his fam with

This actually bother Ben a lot when he finds out

the “Why does my kid feel more comfortable talking to you than to me?” sort of feel

CAN’T STAND IF PEOPLE INTERFERE WITH HIS WORK

whether it’s super-heroing or a school project, nothing will tick him off like you taking charge of a project you’re supposed to be working on TOGETHER or worse, a personal project of HIS OWN

Leads him to difficulties asking for help and bad attitude to receiving it,

Regarding the Omnitrix

While he was able to unlock master control very early on, he still only had his initial 10 aliens that were accessible to him

This resulted in him learning to use his aliens more strategically than Ben

He didn’t figure out he could scan aliens’ DNA to access those forms until he was 11 and a half

As soon as Ben’s back was turned, asked Devlin if he could shift into his Eleven form and scanned the original 10 aliens in

Ben was displeased

Since he didn’t take it off until he was 14, it grew up with him

It was very upset to be removed, and when it was given back to him, it got a little clingy and integrated into his left arm

Think some of the Ben 10K concept art

Ben was once again displeased

His Top 5 Favorite Aliens:

XLR8

Grey Matter

Ditto

Knight Blue [Revonnahgander]

Big Chill

Regarding Chrono-Spanner

Whatever he did to get grounded seemed to really piss off Ben, where as Kai seemed more neutral

Professor Paradox approached him with the offer a few hours after the Blow Out

The suit

Proto-Armor from a few decades forward

The Blasters on his arms have different settings from stun to kill to obliterate

“Set your phasers to Stun, Ken.”

“I don’t think you comprehend how many points you earned with me from a single sentence.”

That’s it

The Agility and Strength is all his own

Trained under the Hue Troop for a bit, especially Yellow Technique and Black Strategy

The scarf is actually from Gwennie

He was very disillusioned about his father during his time as Spanner and has an even greater appreciation for Rook’s patience

After the Time War, he still helps Paradox as needed

Preferences

Favorite Disney Movie: Mulan

Favorite Color: Green duh

Pansexual disaster

#Ben 10 #Ben 10k #Tennyson Clan #Kenny Tennyson #Chrono Spanner #Spanner #Head Canons #Will be Applied #to #My Writing #Reference #my art #my work #Feel free to color #just @ me if you do #CN Gen 2 #TheAngryComet ART

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secret-engima · 4 years

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Today in “SE works through the Chuunin Exam Arc and gets increasingly incredulous over how a show so beloved can have so many GAPING PLOT HOLES and also wow you can actually tell when the animators were getting paid to be enthusiastic or not can’t you”:

1. Sarutobi why did it take you so long to realize that the stadium and village were under attack.

2. Sarutobi why did you let Orochimoron take you hostage for even a hot second KAWARIMI IS A LITERAL ACADEMY BASIC TECHNIQUE JUST SWAP OUT WITH A NEARBY TILE YOU IDIOT I’VE SEEN IT DONE BEFORE FROM THAT CLOSE RANGE. KAKASHI DID IT. SO CAN YOU.

3. Sarutobi I don’t want to say you DESERVE to be trapped in a giant purple death box with your failed student and two dead guys trying to kill you but honestly you deserve to be trapped in a giant purple death box with your failed student and two dead guys trying to kill you.

4. Anbu. My guys. My dudes. I KNOW that the barrier is deadly and made of horrible purple fire and you can’t jump in but like- the barrier holders are right there. Wasting chakra to make an extra barrier around themselves. The barrier protecting them can’t be that thick. You have these lovely things call FLAME RESISTANT STEEL SWORDS you could be using to try to crack open the barrier. Or if you were REALLY smart you could, I don’t know, TUNNEL UP THROUGH THE CEILING??? The barrier is just a box that’s been turned upside down, there is no sign of a barrier floor underneath the tiles and even if there is you guys could have checked. You don’t need to just- sit there. Watching an old man, two dead guys, and a snake wearing makeup beat each other up.

5. Who let Kakashi make the plan. Why did Kakashi decide that it would be better to send the civilian girl he hasn’t bothered to train, the loud blond who he also hasn’t bothered to train, and the boy who tried to fake sleep to get out of helping go alone with just a tiny pug as escort. There were other genin RIGHT THERE who could both help AND be conveniently out of the line of fire in Kakashi’s fight. He was sending them after Sasuke, who was chasing three genin we’ve already seen wipe the FLOOR with the average genin. Having more numbers would be HIGHLY ADVANTAGEOUS.

6. And don’t tell me “he did it because Stealth” he sent the girl with bubblegum hair and the boy in neon orange out there, stealth is a non-factor and also it’s AN INVASION, nobody is going to care about a bunch of wacky kids running by they’re too busy trying not to die to the blur of green spandex that is Gai.

7. Where is Lee in all this anyway he just kinda vanished from the screen. Or was he passed out on the floor and I just missed him. I know he can’t fight, I just wanna know if he’s okay.

8. Was it bad that I didn’t know Asuma could actually fight? I knew he was one of the Guardian Twelve or whatever but mostly fans only talk about him getting owned by Itachi or murdered by Hidan so I guess I just assumed he was ... kinda a sucky fighter. I have been proven wrong. Nice job saving your deer boy, Asuma, I’m impressed.

9. There’s an actual budget for the Hokage fight? Nice. Also who gave Sarutobi the right to actually be cool NOW when he’s been acting senile for the past 10+ episodes excuse you.

10. EXCUSE YOU SARUTOBI YOU DON’T GET TO MAKE EPIC FEELS-INDUCING SPEECHES ABOUT THE WILL OF FIRE AND THE VILLAGE AS YOUR FAMILY, NOT WHEN YOU HAVE FAILED ON BOTH THOSE ASPECTS SO HARD.

11. How dare you make me regret your impending death even a little bit Sarutobi. How dare.

12. There’s a monkey king? That’s an actual THING? I mean I knew there was a monkey king but I didn’t expect him to be so amazing. Now if he would just stop waiting for Sarutobi to grow a spine (because we all know he won’t) and actually kick Orochimaru while the snake was distracted taunting his old sensei maybe we’d actually get somewhere with this show.

13. Seriously Monkey King you turn into a adamantine pole or whatever that can change shape and size, just play dead on the ground for a minute then expand and extend to the size and length of a tree. You don’t even have to do any damage yourself you just have to shove him/wack him into his own barrier and let him go up in flames. It probably won’t kill him, since Plot and also Orochimoron, but hey at least it will do damage and distract him for a few seconds.

14. Turning to Naruto real quick because clearly Sarutobi’s Senile Damsel Syndrome is contagious- Naruto. You are an Uzumaki. You have so much chakra you can barely do chakra control exercises. I know you’re tired from the Neji fight, but I ALSO know via fandom that you’re going to summon a freaking Boss Summon in a few episodes. When Shikamaru says “someone needs to stay behind and be a diversion” why didn’t you, I don’t know, SPAM A FEW SHADOW CLONES? You didn’t even have to use only shadow clones for the diversion, you could have just dropped off a few to help out Shika in his rare moment of self-sacrifice. Half a dozen screaming orange genin would go such a long way in providing a distraction so Shika could make a plan (may I suggest, catch the sound ninja in shadow possession and then have the Naruto’s slit their throats before their ninth member has a chance to catch up?). But no. We can’t possibly spam clones the one time a comrade could find them terribly useful, let’s go back to running through the trees worrying about the boy who knows an A-Rank assassination jutsu and would be totally fine surviving on his own for another several episodes of dialogue and reaction shots ten minutes.

15. Where the ACTUAL freak is Jiraiya. He came to Konoha specifically because he heard Orochimaru was planning something. There is an INVASION HAPPENING. GIANT SNAKES. BUSTING DOWN THE WALL. ENEMY NINJA EVERYWHERE. YOUR SENSEI IS TRAPPED IN A BARRIER JUTSU WITH THE GUY YOU SPECIFICALLY CAME HERE TO LOOK FOR. You don’t suppose you could leave your drinks and women and pity party long enough to- I don’t know- HELP? I mean I know it would be hard for someone who has such niche skills like SUMMONING GIANT TOADS and USING FUUNJUTSU THAT COULD PROBABLY BREAK THE BARRIER YOUR SENSEI IS TRAPPED IN but come on man, put forth a little effort.

Maybe you show up in a later episode miraculously doing something important to help stop the invasion, who knows.

Pros of this arc tho:

1. When they decide to actually use their animation budget THEY REALLY GO FOR IT. The fights that have a budget are epic.

2. Sakura got to be useful! For 20 seconds! She fended off a genjutsu and woke up Naruto and told him what was going on! That counts as useful! *devolves into sobbing because why are the girl characters not allowed to be both good guys AND competent onscreen*

3. I genuinely cheered when Asuma swooped in to save Shika. That was cool.

4. Some of the exam fight bits were cool. Naruto vs Neji dragged on a bit but the ending tactic was as rewarding as I’d hoped it would be from reading about it in the fandom. Also I really enjoyed the Shikamaru vs Temari fight. A-tier victory from the resident Deer Boi.

5. Sasuke using Chidori first time on screen was cool, and even though I’d read about it ahead of time, Gaara wigging out over seeing his own blood genuinely startled me.

6. I was glad to see that Sasuke still remembers how to use other jutsu than Chidori. When Temari started fighting him I was afraid the show writers would forget he HAD any jutsu other than Chidori tbh. Like Naruto and his many versions of the same jutsu (see: all the clone spam variations, all the harem jutsu variations, and all the many MANY different rasengan variations).

#Secret Engima Rambles #SE rants #naruto #SE watches anime #Salty SE is Salty #surprisingly I am actually enjoying the show #i just get a steady build up of salt and eyerolling over the plot holes #and need to expel it before continuing to watch the show #still confused why people think this is somehow better than boruto #at least boruto remembers that its characters can DO THINGS #other than sit and look shocked at different angles for minutes on end

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purplerose244 · 4 years

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Thinking journal for season 12 Prime Empire 😎😎😎 (1/2)

So, I'm keeping this during all of season 12 to put down my thoughts as they appear. It's mostly for not ranting every single time a new episode comes out so please don't mind me too much 😅 I'm following the English release so please no spoilers 😙

I'm gonna split it in two, since apparently the season has 16 episodes. So this is the first part, enjoy my rambling 💜💜

It's the 30th of March and here we go!

IN GENERAL

I'm so, SO HAPPY, we have a theme for this season. For my experience apparently silly themes (tech ninja, ghosts, pirates) had brought very surprising results so I'm SO DOWN FOR THIS 😍😍

It seems that they fixed the mood, there is a specific mystery and a specific mission to follow. I like it too

THE NEW WHIP IS DOPE AS ALWAYS

I'm really glad there are plenty of references to past episodes, comebacks are my jam

The only thing that still kinda bothers me is the length of the episodes. It's not all bad, I just think the 20 minutes format was better. One thing is splitting 20 in 10 minutes, another is putting together 11 minutes of important stuff. Doesn't bother me too much, I just wish there was more time for my favorite show 🤷‍♀️

WOULD YOU LIKE TO ENTER PRIME EMPIRE?

Is it normal for me to feel really old after they made the "what is a VCR?" joke? Like, I'm a uni student so still pretty young, but I lived through the transition from that to the DVD so... eh, I laughed anyway👵

Jay is smart, I really believe he is. Yet I saw him putting a possibly corrupted motherboard into a legendary game randomly found into a villain's lair, and I was like "Of course he did that, I love you you dumb*ss" raising my glass of juice towards him 😎

Okay, I'm down for this Lloyd. I'm down for a season with Lloyd being creeped out just because, being silly, just a ninja helping his friends and- (remembers there's a Harumi avatar in the sets) I'M NOT READY

The ending was actually nicely creepy. Cool nods in approval

DYER ISLAND

THAT INTRO THOUGH, THAT WAS EPIC! Love the techno sounds, love the clear gaming connection, I rate it 10/HECK YEAH LONG LIVE THE FOLD

I was scared about how the shorts were supposed to play along with the season, but it looks fine so far with the mechanic and later for Scott. Good 👍

Ah, Fist to Face, that game came all over from the nostalgic season 1. That's what I'm talking about 😎

So they just associated that Unagami is probably Dyer's avatar like that? Like sure, I thought about it, but it looks a little rushed. Mm, I wonder if there's something more behind it?

LEVEL 13

Cyrus Borg is back and he TALKS!!! Finally, he gets some action! Go tech dad!

I'm so happy he referenced the Digiverse, I would have been very disappointed if he hadn't. Time flies Borg...

Not gonna lie, I thought the next to follow up Jay's spot as best in videigames was going to be Kai or Lloyd. It's not disappointing though, since pretty much all the ninja have been seen playing, and to be honest I like the implication that Cole and Jay probably played a lot together. As bruiseshipping or as BrOTP, I still love them together no matter what 💙🖤💙🖤

Ooooohhhhh, that's why Zane and Pixal are left behind. It makes sense, sure, but I don't understand the implication of the plan: they saw Dyer entering Prime Empire, so why looking for him in real life? Mm, maybe they will investigate about his life and what happened... PIXANE ON THE CASE 😍

Already saw Prime Empire's world in the shorts, of course it looks DOPE, still very happy to finally being there!

SUPERSTAR ROCKIN' JAY

I don't know why, but Kai questioning the double jump made me laugh. Also poor him, he just got his powers back from last season and they're already gone again 😂

And of course. Them. Wow. It must be the most amazing and CURSED thing I've ever seen so far, the League of Jay 🤯 I'm so happy they exist and they freaking use past seasons' suits!!! Awesome!!! Never thought I was going to see Jay's old plain haircut again... yeah, he got better with the curly one, but I'm feeling nostalgic 🤷‍♀️

Their nick are histerical omg, Jaybird, Dee-Jay, Jaywalkin, I'm loving this way more than I should 😂 Also they freaking screamed "JAY-NJA GOO!!!" and I don't know what to do with that, it's too great for me to comprehend 👏👏

And then, THIS happened:

Your Honor, I would like to confirm this as THE MOST SECRET DREAM I'VE EVER HAD FOR THIS SHOW FINALLY COMING TRUE!!! A NINJA FROM NINJAGO DOING THE NARUTO RUN!!! 🤯🤯🤯 Done, I'm done, conclude the season, this is more than enough for me 😍

First Kai gets hit and fall from a building, DYING, then Lloyd gets desperate for his brother (MY BROTP 💚❤💚❤), then Kai respawns and Lloyd looks so relieved and Kai is all panting while slowly realizing it's a game and MY HEART CAN'T HANDLE THIS MUCH OKAY???

As a very passionate Kai fangirl I always expect the cringy moment, it really is inevitable for my favorite hothead. I love that idiot so much it's unbelievable, even if it's an absolute and costant suffering 😅 Holy Garmadon it was painful seeing his VERY slow realization that in this game you only have four lives

... SO HE HAS ONE NOW!?! NINJAGO CREW YOU ALREADY KILLED ZANE, NYA AND LLOYD ONCE AT THE END OF A SEASON, DON'T YOU DARE PLAY WITH ME AGAIN 😱😱😱

Okay, I did not expect to hear about Mr. Cuddly Wamp ever again since Hands of Time and BOY if I'm happy it was actually a password, I love this show 😂

SCOTT FINALLY!!! YESS!!! 😍😍😍

Okay, for as long as it is not debunked, I will hold onto the Scott is Jay's brother/twin theory. I'm sorry but: his jacket has dragons AND lightnings on it, they have very similar skin in avatar mode, he said he was waiting for him in the short, he could very well have his same hair under cap and hoodie and he's a mechanic too. I know, I know, they could have the same skin because Scott helped him for the avatar, and there might be shadier reason behind the 'I was waiting for you' thing, and there are tons of good mechanics in Ninjago... STILL HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE??? 😍

SCOTT HAS ONE LIFE POINT TOO??? NO! NOOO!!! NOOOOOOO!!! Don't you dare appear and steal my heart only to die at the end of the season, come on!! 😭

So for now it seems like he just wants to survive. Can we actually confirm he's an avatar and not an NPC? I mean he could be, but I don't see the point of an NPC self aware of his life points. Idk, maybe I'm overthinking this 🤷‍♀️

Lol, Kai is the only one weirded out by the Jay-con all around him. Probably because he hasn't heard from his fans since Skybound 😅 (I'M STILL HERE MY FLAME BABE, ILY ❤❤❤)

And in all of his glory, freaking Superstar Rockin' Jay!!! 😎😎 Okay, I loved the design since the first time I saw it, but it looks possibly even better in the show 😍😍😍 And Jay looks absolutely adorable in it, and he's got a guitar, and he was waiting for his friends, and he hugs them (I'm weak for LEGO hugs for some reason) and he is so happy and AAAHHH 💙💙💙💙💙

I'm very curious about how Scott will play into the situation, clearly he will provide some kind of insight about Prime Empire. I can't wait to know more about him!! 😍

I AM OKINO

I did not expect this when I saw this Okino guy in the trailer... and I'm so happy I was surprised, I love him 👌

And he's voiced by Alessandro Juliani?? HECK YEAH!!! With all the hype about the DnD 13th season, and consequentially the knight theme, I really miss Nexo Knights and having Aaron's VA around makes me happy... any hope to have Giles Panton as well? I miss Clay the most 💙💙

This is what I'm talking about, the game theme needs this stuff! I was already happy to see life points, double jumps and respawns, but this? The NPC guide? Awesome 👍 It's nice to see the take on the matter, the guide seeing so many players getting killed, first because they did not listen, then because they were actually just unlucky. The touchy matter I always expect watching Ninjago 👏👏

At least I THINK he's an NPC? For now I don't really see a way of knowing, and it doesn't look like it matters. He didn't show life points so maybe? Does this mean he can't die? I have questions people

Which brings me to the cube thingies. That's what happens to the dead players? I mean, I would understand if they just become pixels, but there's also the drone that takes the datas every time. Idk, feels like there's more behind it. And honestly? It looks like great material for angst, like one of the ninja dies but then they discover they just need to get where Unagami stores all of the players! I hope it's something like this!

They designs of the players are really cool, I already saw them in the other episodes, but seeing them this close just confirmed it. Between this and Jay's awesome avatar, I see lots of great cosplay ideas coming 😍 I wonder when will Kai and Lloyd use their avatars, and why would they since I'm guessing Jay did for disguise and to distinguish himself from his fans

PLEASE TELL ME WE'LL SEE SCOTT SOON, I ALREADY MISS HIM!!! 💙💙💙 I have too many theories about that tech dude, I'm so excited about who he might turn out to be!

I was a little skeptical about the new ninja suits, but seeing them in the show convinced me, very cool! Especially on Nya 💕💕💕

THE GLITCH

Alright, Okino is indeed an NPC. Cool the fact that at first he could not understand the fact that he was in a game, but when reality changed he was forced to. Welcome into the crew! 😙

I'm kinda worried about it though, either they will shut down the game and he will stay inside or he will sacrifice for them. He's a very loyal samurai, I can see that happening and I'm SCARED

I WAS SWEATING BULLETS AT THE AMBUSH!!! I 100% saw it coming, we all freaking saw it coming, even the ninja did but where like 'we can walk and die or we can risk and die so might as well'. But still, my babies DYING and respawning so fast was not pretty 😱😱

Nya got the scariest death until now in my opinion, holy Garmadon Dyer DOES have a twisted mind...

Seeing Kai so scared of being in a new situation and with one HP reminds me A LOT of the Digiverse, and that's actually a nice touch. Give him a cellphone, hothead is a social media expert, but put him in a game and... huuhhh... 😅

Have I mentioned I love the ninja's new emoji masks??

BECAUSE I DO!!! 😂😂😂😂

So Unagami knows about them trying to stop him and he sent the rat people because of it. Considering how little we know about this guy, I'm wondering what we are about to discover

Alright, going to the next challenge, very curious about this adventure. So... beware of the rats, ninja? Still not sure what I think about the rats 😅

THE CLIFFS OF HYSTERIA

I would like to say Okino is the edgiest character of the show I've ever seen... but I've seen MORRO. But still poor guy, he got a case of the Matrix

Oooohhhh, the major question in videogames: better go grinding for more money to get the better stuff but while losing lots of time, or get the least expensive just to go on with the story but definitely risking to lose lives?

Ah there we go, so the energy cubes mean something! Also reference to the Sushimi guy of the set (gosh that name, I can't 😂). So do people actually die in Prime Empire or they are just kidnapped kinda? Can the ninja just bring back? ANGST POTENTIAL

Cole please don't die please don't die please don't die for the love of Garmadon please don't die somebody help-

HOLY FSM KAI I MEANT HELP FROM SOMEONE WITH MORE THAN ONE LIFE DON'T DO THAT BE CAREFUL PLEASE I FREAKING LOVE YOU YOU RECKLESS HOTHEAD ❤❤❤

Nya giving Kai a sweet look after seeing her brother is okay, that's what I live for 😍

So apparently Unagami is trying to build some kind of device using the energy cubes of the dead players (sounds kinda creepy like this 😱) to create some kind of portal? To Ninjago? I don't understand, if Unagami is Milton Dyer then why this? Just to bring his army and conquer? I mean I guess, sounds a little simple though. Then again, if it turns out it's not Dyer, it could be Unagami wanting to be real and get into his creator's world? Mm...

I like the message, having the ability to choose your own path. Very fitting for a game themed season, I hope it gets explored even more!

More for the "I love the ninja emoji masks of this season"'s compilation 😂😂😂

THE MAZE OF THE RED DRAGON

Duuuude, Jay being good at mazes comes all the way from Possession, the Tomb of the First Spinjitzu Master! 😍 ... or maybe I just rewatch this show too much... could be both really 😅

Unagami is NASTY!

Confirmed the thing about going into the real world, what scares me is how much powers Unagami seems to actually possess. Like, can he do the block thingy whenever he wants? Just straight up pause and do whatever? Wow...

Jay being extra 😎

I mean, of course he is, he's got better statics! 😂 I like how he seems so focused and in charge, I still hope we see more of him... and Scott... WHERE IS SCOTT???

I love dragons, this metal one is cute 😍

So now we have two ronin: a samurai looking for a path on his own in a digital world... and a shady guy named Ronin 😛 Total respect for Okino, he really showed the values he believes in. No matter he was programmed his way, I hope he finds what he's looking for. Better come back for the final battle!

One Keytana down, two more to go. I know one is the price of the race, while the last one... I don't really know.

More of the masks because I love them 😂 Here we have Vegeta Lloyd and Kawai Cole ✌✌

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ordinaryschmuck · 3 years

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Top 20 BEST Animated Series of the 2010s-4th Place

To anyone who plans on making a reboot of their favorite show in the future, you might want to take notes on this next pick. Because if you ask me, this next series that I'm going to talk about is the best example of how to do a reboot properly.

#4-Ducktales (2017-2021)

The Plot: Scrooge McDuck is the richest duck in the world, who made it big by also being one of the greatest adventurers of all time...ten years ago. Sadly, after an unfortunate accident with the family, Scrooge is forced to live the life of a normal businessman-er-duck. Up until Donald Duck asks Scrooge to watch over his nephews: Huey, Dewey, and Louie. What starts off as a single day of babysitting soon turns into a life of adventure as Scrooge gets back into the adventuring spirit to show his new family what the world really has to offer.

Now I want to make one thing clear: As of the moment of me writing this review, I have seen a total of zero episodes of the original Ducktales. That being said, despite my limited knowledge of the series, I still think it’s fair of me to point out how this is hands down the best reboot as of late (and I’ll explain more as to why that is later). And besides, from what I’ve heard from fans who have watched the original, Ducktales (2017) is a pretty faithful adaptation of the beloved franchise. The reason is that I believe this show remembers the two most important rules of making a reboot.

The first rule of a reboot is to try something new while still being faithful to the source material. Doing something like that is simple as a writer just needs to keep what the fans love and change what they hated. And trust me when I say that the writers of Ducktales (2017) knows how to do just that. For the most part, the show is about a family going on crazy globe-trotting adventures while still learning that family is the best adventure of all, much like the original. As for the characters, most of them keep their fun personalities. Scrooge is still a stingy miser with the heart for adventure, Launchpad is still the lovable idiot who can’t fly a plane, and Donald Duck still remains the one who gets stuck with all the bad luck. Then some characters have their personalities/roles revamped into something that improves upon the original. The best example is Fenton, who is still the wannabe superhero but is now a scientist in this show, wherein the old one was just Scrooge’s accountant. This way, both the hero and the man-DUCK-who’s behind the mask are equally capable of saving the day. There’s also Mrs. Beakley, who was originally a nanny that nagged Scrooge’s ear off for putting the kids in danger. In the reboot, she’s treated more as the anchor of reality to the more oddball characters, who also used to be a kick-butt super spy in her younger years. It is still the same role, but a different interpretation.

Now, some characters receive grand changes to their original personalities. But from what I’ve heard, those changes are made for the better. And there are no characters that need it more than the children. More specifically, Huey, Dewey, and Louie. This show does something that I’m eternally grateful for, and that’s giving each of these three their own distinct personalities and quirks. For years I couldn’t for the life of me tell the triplets apart. They had the same design, the same voice, the same personality, and the only difference people had to go off of are their different colors (which really didn’t do much to help). Here, they have different designs, voices, and now defining character traits for each of them. Huey is the smart and responsible boy scout, Dewey is the annoying attention seeker, and Louie is the best character in the entire show, and I WILL FREAKING FIGHT YOU ON THAT! And let us not forget the most appreciated change: Webby. From what I’ve heard, fans hated the original Webby, as she was nothing more than just the stereotypical girl of the group. Here, she’s given an actual personality and a fun one to boot. Webby is the ecstatic thrill-seeking adventurer who is skilled in combat training (thanks to her grandma) and is (of course) a socially awkward girl who wants to make friends. Like I said, this show took the idea that the fans hated and changed it into something that they’ll love. Which makes sense why the writers mastered this because they themselves are real fans of the show.

It is clear how much the writers are fans of the Ducktales franchise as they filled Ducktales (2017) with many references. And not just references to the original series but also references to the classic comics by Carl Barks and even the NES video game from the 1980s (seriously, this show will make you feel things about the “Moon Theme” you wouldn’t think was possible!). Even the show’s animation seems to be a homage to both the cartoon and comics. Not only do the characters and backgrounds have a more comic book style to them, but the characters also work on a mix of realistic and cartoony logic. And let me just say, it is refreshing to see characters in a Disney show have cartoon logic to them since Wander Over Yonder got canceled. And it’s not just Ducktales that the series reference, but even classic Disney movies (of course) and other shows in the Disney Afternoon lineup. And when it comes to these references, it’s more than just a subtle wink to the fans. The writers actually go out of their way to write a story around these beloved characters, so people who don’t get the joke won’t be one-hundred percent lost. For instance, without giving anything away, the writers found a brilliant way to reintroduce Darkwing Duck in this universe that feels right for this famous character. And if you ask me personally, these are the best ways to handle references for a reboot. Make them work within the story, even if you don’t fully get the joke.

This brings me to the second most important rule of a reboot: Make a quality product even though it is based on something else. Let us pretend that the original never existed. Would Ducktales (2017) still be as good as it is now? Personally, as a person who has never seen the original, I think it is.

This is another show that mixes slice of life episodes with adventure ones, similar to My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic. And just like Friendship is Magic, both are equally interesting because the characters themselves make them so. No matter what situation the Duck Family are in, the audience will care about it because the characters care about it. In fact, I think Ducktales (2017) handles the mix of slice of life and adventure much better than Friendship is Magic. In MLP: FiM, the adventure-based episodes force the characters to stick to their simple personality traits to move the story forward, and character-based ones help them grow. In Ducktales (2017), because the characters regularly go on adventures, they grow as characters no matter the situation. For example, my favorite episode is “The Great Dime Chase” where the main plot is Louie finding Scrooge’s #1 dime after accidentally spending it. While in that same episode, Dewey and Webby try to solve a mystery around the boys’ mom. We get a great lesson about the importance of hard work and a fascinating plot of an overarching mystery within the season, all taking place within the same episode. Both are interesting, neither feels as though it overshadows the other, and the characters develop along the way.

Another thing this show mixes well is comedy and drama. A lot of shows recently tried way too hard to find that perfect mix. Ducktales (2017) is one of the few examples that nails it. The comedy is hilarious, the drama is endearing, and neither feels like it’s prioritized over the other. The show starts off with this mix as well, where others that I’ve talked about seem to start off as purely comedic only to take themselves more seriously later on. That isn’t entirely a bad thing, but I feel as though Ducktales (2017) is the best way to go about the method. That way, fans won’t be complaining about how much “better” the show used to be in its first batch of episodes, much like Star V.S. the Forces of Evil.

Unfortunately, while I recommend this show, it’s not without its fair share of issues. Or rather, issue, as there really is only one problem I have with it. And that problem can be summed up with one name: Dewey Duck. For the most part, I dislike Dewy. Because he’s nothing more than a Ben Schwarts character. No disrespect to Ben Schwarts himself, but lately, it feels as though he only plays the one character from time to time: The egotistical attention seeker slowly and surely learning to be a better person who realizes that not everything is about him. That’s the character he plays in both Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Sonic the Hedgehog (2020), and it’s the character he plays here. And the thing about these characters is that they’re not as lovable as Ben Schwarts thinks they sound. In fact (and, again, I mean no disrespect to the actor. I’m sure he’s a lovely person in real life), every single one of these characters comes off as kind of annoying rather than as the lovable rapscallions I’m sure they’re meant to be. However, there is one thing worth mentioning about Dewey. While he’s portrayed as annoying when used for comedy, Dewey is surprisingly a compelling character when used for drama. The thing is, he’s rarely used for dramatic moments and is meant as a source of comedy. Hence why I said I disliked him for the most part.

Other than that, there aren’t really that many problems with the show. Well, there are, but they’re mostly nitpicks that the series more than makes up for. Is it weird that the kids are voiced by adults? Yes, but the actors do a great job at being sincere and have great comedic timing than any kid could have. Are there changes to characters that fans might not enjoy? Probably, but I have yet to have seen anyone that has annoyed me as much as Dewey has. Are the villains just evil for the sake of being evil? Yes, but that’s not really a big deal. In fact, a villain doesn’t need a heartbreaking backstory as to why they’ve become so evil. They just need to have a great personality that’s fun to watch, which every villain in the show has (aside from season two’s antagonist who’s basically a Disney surprise villain. And I hate them with a fiery passion). Does it feel as though the show suffers from “too many characters” syndrome? It sometimes does, but each character has such a fun and unique personality that I find it hard to forget most of them.

So really, Ducktales (2017) is the best reboot in recent memory. This is crazy, seeing as how lately it feels as though Disney doesn’t even know how to properly reboot their own movies to save their lives. This is why I feel as though people should take notes on what Ducktales (2017) does if they ever feel like rebooting something they loved as a kid. Because this is more than just a retelling of the same story that people know by heart. This is a fantastic show with even better characters, stories, and tone. Whether you’ve been a fan since the beginning, or a part of the new generation of viewers, odds are you’ll be screaming Whoo-Ooo with every episode.

(Also, a word of warning to those who haven’t watched the show yet: Beware the theme song. Trust me when I say it’ll be stuck in your head until the day you die)

#top 20 of 2010s #ducktales #ducktales 2017 #what i thought about

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yergink · 4 years

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Bravery and a Bowline Ch. 2

Heavier on the fluff this time around! Also a bit longer than last chapter at 4.6k words.

First Chapter

Next Chapter

Crossposted to Ao3

Summary: Walter learns a bit about the other people on the island. Meanwhile, the kids decide to amuse themselves the best way kids know how.

They’re out gathering charcoal one day and Walter has a particular thought on his mind.

By now, his stay on this island the others call “the Constant” has reached a whopping ten days, and in that time, he’s been doing his best to be of help around camp.

For instance, he’d been helping Webber tend to the farms. Walter didn’t mind the dirt and muck staining his clothes, and he’d gone on a field trip to a farm for school once, during which he’d been paying a lot of attention, so he was sure he could help. They’d packed seeds into the ground with manure and mud, and to Walter’s surprise, the crops grew alarmingly quickly. Webber seemed to enjoy the company as well, chatting away about the things he liked as they worked. Walter’s found out they both have a similar penchant for bugs.

He’d been helping Wendy as well, and her biggest chore was tending to the rabbit traps spread amidst the plains. She showed him how to weave them and how to set them above the rabbits’ dens. That was where his help had ended, though. Walter tried to help her collect the traps at the end of the day, but he’d ended up feeling so bad for the rabbits that he’d ended up letting one go and Wendy said she’d handle it after that.

Still, Walter wants to be as helpful as he can, which is why he’d volunteered to help Willow gather fuel without realizing what exactly that would entail until. And then, he was standing in front of a forest ablaze, eyes wide as he watched Willow clap excitedly until the burn died down. When he’d piped up about fire safety, she’d just waved him off and reassured that this was a “controlled burn.” Walter didn’t think that was true, but he bit back his objections.

Now, amidst the scorched trees, he watches Willow heft her axe over her shoulder and asks, “You said there were other people on the island, right?” She pauses, adjusting her angle.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. There are. What about it?”

She swings the blade at the trunk of a freshly charred tree, and it crumbles under the force. Walter gets about, kneeling to gather the fallen pieces of charcoal and packing them away in his backpack. Woby, well-fed and in her large form, lies on her back in the sunlight just outside the forest.

Walter fidgets, rubbing his soot-stained fingers together. “Can I meet them?”

Willow snorts. She’s leaned down now, helping gather the pieces as well, and she stuffs the last charred branch away and straightens up. “When they decide to show up to our base, then sure. I’m not supposed to let any of the kids wander around.” She approaches the next tree, and before she can even regain the grip on her axe, Walter zips around it, clasping his hands together and putting on his best pout. His mom always told him he could convince the moon to fall with that face.

He’s not certain it’s going to be enough, but it does give Willow pause. “Stop using little kid powers on me, it isn’t gonna work.”

Walter pouts further, blinking a few times to make it really dramatic. His eyes water a little bit.

Willow makes a show of not looking at him, but after she cracks down the tree and sees him still waiting expectantly, her resolve seems to falter. She sighs. “Listen, I can’t really take a break to give you a whole tour of everyone’s camps, but I can tell you about the rest of them at least.”

“That works!” Walter chirps.

Her axe fells another tree. “So, I’ve mentioned Wilson before, right? He’s like, a scientist or whatever, which is just a codeword for ‘huge nerd’ if you ask me.”

Walter personally finds science rather enjoyable, so he just gives a small hum at that. “What kind of science?”

She makes a vague hand gesture. “He’s never really specific about it, to be honest. But he’s sort of a doctor. Or, he used to be, I think. Before we got here. And he used to be really stuck-up about it, too, thinking he was all smarter than the rest of us.”

“But not anymore?”

“I mean…” she trails off. “I think it was mostly just him being defensive. When it comes down to it, he’s really sweet, even if he is an idiot sometimes.” She turns, moving towards the next blackened trunk, but not before Walter catches the half-smile on her face, a look that seems uncharacteristically soft for Willow. She clears her throat. “Anyway. Ms. Wickerbottom also stays at the eastern camp with the kids. She can be a bit strict, but she’s pretty nice. She’s kind of like everyone’s grandma. You’ll probably get along with her pretty well, spouting off facts the way you do.”

They keep gathering, circling the edge of the forest line. In between felling trees, Willow’s counting off people on her fingers. “There’s Winona. She’s real spunky, and smart to boot. And there’s Mr. Wolfgang who comes off really intimidating, but he’s a sweetheart under all that muscle. He gives the best piggyback rides. And there’s Wigfrid--she can be a bit intense, but she isn't too bad. And--”

“Hey, Willow?” Walter interrupts. He feels like he’s back home trying to memorize plant names, and he wishes he had a notepad. “Maybe I’ll remember them better if I actually meet them.”

She laughs. “Sure.”

The sky grays out a bit by the time they finish hacking down trees and collecting the charcoal. The sight of incoming rain makes Willow anxious, and she gestures for them to begin the trek back to camp. The two of them walk side by side, Woby shuffling along quietly behind them. Walter shifts his hands up the backpack straps while they walk, getting a better hold on the heavy load. Despite intending to shelve the topic of the other people on the island, he can’t quite stop thinking about it.

Cautiously, he asks, “So, how many people are here in total?”

Willow hums in thought. “I think with you we’re up to a whole seventeen.”

Seventeen people. It’s a bit difficult for Walter to comprehend. Not the number itself, mind you, but that so many people would have been lost here and had yet to find a way home. It’s worrying, although Walter doesn’t want to linger on it for too long. If he’s honest, the biggest concern he has is that this is going to make him get sick of camping.

...He just hopes his mom isn’t worrying too much.

After they return to camp and unpack the charcoal into the boxes by the fire, he notices Willow keep glancing fretfully at the clouded sky, and she juts her thumb towards the tent, saying that she’s going to take a nap before nightfall.

Walter nods, of course, fully intending to stay in camp as well, although as afternoon sets in and the promise of rain is still unfulfilled, he finds himself growing bored. He sits by the smoldering ashes of the firepit, tossing a stick across the length of camp for a now-small Woby to fetch, although it looks like even she is getting tired of doing so.

She drops the stick at his feet and whines, headbutting his arm when Walter reaches to throw it again. He lets the stick fall and scratches behind her ears. “You’re bored too, aren’t you,” he mumbles, and Woby barks in agreement. She darts away from him abruptly, pointing her nose towards the gate and running back and forth between it and where Walter is sitting.

He perks up a bit. “You wanna go on a walk?”

She barks. Walter stands, glancing back towards the tent, listening to Willow’s snores gently emanating from it, and then to the sky, weighing the risks. Then, he carefully unlatches the gate and slips out without looking back.

Together, he and Woby meander through the plains a bit. The air here doesn’t smell like the air back home; it’s got a sense of danger on it, not to mention the heavy smell of monster blood that Walter hasn’t entirely grown accustomed to. Still, there is still the thrill of taking it all in. Nature is nature, and Walter has learned to appreciate that. He even has a badge for it.

The tall straw-like grass begins to give way into forest, and he’s wandered back into the midst of the deciduous trees, where he first met Wendy. As autumn has gone on, more and more of the trees have gone bare, and with the clouded sky the forest has a much eerier atmosphere than usual. Woby sniffs out mushrooms for him to pick, particularly the spongy green ones that tend to sprout in the evening.

He’s just crouched down behind a few bushes to dig up another one when he pauses, the sound of voices brushing by on the wind.

There are several. One of them is high, an echoey sort of trill that he recognizes as Wendy immediately. There’s also that haunting wispy sort of noise that Wendy’s sister Abigail always makes. She doesn’t speak with words the way Wendy does, and Wendy’s the only one who can understand her, but she’s a good translator. Walter thinks he and Abigail have become pretty good friends, even if he was a bit creeped out by her at first.

Then, he hears a third voice, one that’s unfamiliar. Woby starts growling, a low, threatening rumble that doesn’t sound right coming from her small body. Walter shushes her, going still to try and hear what was going on.

The unfamiliar voice is talking. It’s a deep, smooth cadence, and it makes Walter think of that old ragtime tune that had played on the radio that brought him here.

“--struck with a bout of insomnia and was coming by for some assistance,” the voice says.

“Out of nowhere?” Wendy asks.

“I believe it has to do with that ridiculous robot screeching up a storm every night just over the river.”

Walter pushes aside the lower branches of the bush to get a better view. He sees Wendy, standing by a nearby pond with an older looking man in a sharp suit. Immediately, he’s a bit suspicious. The man is tall, and he all but towers over Wendy, leaning slightly down towards her as they talk. Walter feels Woby, still rumbling with a quiet growl beside him as he looks on.

He watches Wendy shake her head. “I’m afraid Ms. Wickerbottom is currently absent from camp. Both she and Mr. Higgsbury embarked to the underground nearly a fortnight ago. Only Ms. Willow is there right now.”

The man scoffs. “They left you in the care of the firestarter? I wouldn’t trust that woman to look after a goldfish, much less a child.”

“To be fair, uncle, it would be extremely difficult to burn a goldfish.”

Walter looks to Woby, who cocks her head in what seems like an equal amount of confusion. “Uncle” ?

The two conversing fall into a lull of silence. The man clears his throat.

“...And you’re sure you won’t reconsider staying at my camp?” he asks. There’s a hesitation behind his words, an uncertainty that marrs his otherwise smooth, charismatic tone, roughening it around the edges.

“I do not feel comfortable leaving the camp at this time,” Wendy says after a moment’s thought. “And, in fairness, I believe Ms. Willow to be a good caretaker. You needn’t worry.”

The man coughs. “Right.” He glances backwards. “I’ll be on my way, then.”

A peal of thunder rumbles across the sky, and Wendy murmurs, “May you stay well,” as the man leaves. She watches him leave with that odd sort of stillness of hers, like a statue in the forest. A few leaves fall, sticking in her hair, though she does not move until the man has entirely vanished from view. It’s only then that Walter makes a move.

“Wendy!” he calls, shaking himself out of the bushes. “Who was that?”

Wendy pauses, glancing to Abigail, then back at him. “You were eavesdropping,” she frowns.

“Kinda,” Walter admits. “So who was that?”

With some trepidation, she says, “That was our”--she indicates to herself and Abigail with a nod--”Uncle Maxwell. He camps by the rock fields.”

Woby barks, and Walter looks down to see that she’s glaring in the direction the man left, her hackles raised and tail angled in alert. He frowns. “Woby stop, that’s not nice.”

Usually, a command like that would be enough to calm her, but she growls again, low and threatening, pawing at the ground like she’s about to run off after him.

“Woby, what’s wrong with you?” Walter exclaims, swooping to pick her up before she has a chance to take off. The dog squirms in his arms, and he struggles to keep his hold on her, her back paws digging into his stomach as he tries to get her to still.

“She probably senses Their presence in him” Wendy suggests, her head tilted sideways as she watches him grapple.

He rests a hand on Woby’s head, scratching in the space between the bumps of her horns as her growls begin to taper off. “What do you mean?”

One of her hands reaches for the flower clipped in her hair--a nervous habit. “I forgot that you don’t know.” Upon seeing her sister hesitate, Abigail floats closer, whispering in that airy, incomprehensible tone. It seems to help, because even as Wendy looks away, she keeps talking.

“My uncle was the one who brought many of us here,” she explains. “And even while he has lost his crown of shadows, there are many who have continued to forego forgiveness.”

“Oh,” Walter says. He doesn’t know how to respond.

“Not all of us were condemned by his hand,” she says hurriedly. “You, for example. But my uncle has a hard time finding good favor with others. His time as king has tainted him with a terrible arrogance.”

“He did seem kind of rude. Uh, no offense.”

“None taken.”

They keep walking. It’s awkward. Walter breaks the silence. “So, do you talk to him a lot?”

Wendy hums. “As often as I must. Despite everything, he is still family. And he has been earnestly attempting to better himself, which I believe we all appreciate.”

Abigail makes a sound like steam rising off a lake, and Wendy nods in agreement. “Abigail makes a good point. We know that he cares about us.”

It’s an offhand comment, but it sends a pang of jealousy through him. Wistfully and without thinking, Walter says, “It seems kind of nice. To have family with you.” It’s a more emotionally revealing statement than he wanted to make, and he’s a bit alarmed with himself for having said something like that. Wendy seems to take it in stride though, making a sort of sympathetic sound.

“It is difficult,” she says, “to be forced to face a cruel world without a caring presence beside you.” Walter gets the feeling she isn’t talking about Maxwell anymore. Abigail murmurs sadly, hovering over Wendy’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” he agrees. Quickly glancing around to verify that they’re alone, he puts a hand over his mouth and steps closer to her. “Don’t tell anyone, but… I think I’m getting a bit homesick.”

Solemnly, Wendy nods. “I shan’t speak a word of it to anyone.”

According to the strange thermometer set up in the camp, winter is approaching, and Walter is sure starting to feel it. The forest has started going bare, the coating of leaves along the ground growing denser by the day. There’s a chill pervading the air, one that sends him shivering on early morning fishing trips and late-night firefly hunting. He, along with the other members of the camp, huddle closer to the fire at night.

Wendy’s been making hats from the silk and fur they have, decorating them with different patterns and toppers. She’s steady with a needle, and Walter watches her thread the fabrics together in awe as they sit together.

“Who’s that one for?” he points at the completed hat she has sitting atop the spool of silk beside her.

“It’s for Webber.” She lifts it into the air, showing off the ear flaps. “So his extra legs don’t get cold.”

“It’s pretty.” The hat has been colored orange and red with boiled eggshells and berry juice. It’s an impressive feat of craftsmanship, and he wonders if Wendy will teach him how to sew like that, too.

She turns it over. “Thank you. But I think I made it a bit too big.”

“Let me try,” Walter says, reaching for it. The hat is soft, and he takes a moment to admire the texture before going to put it on. Before he gets a chance, however, Wendy interrupts.

“That’s backwards.”

Walter stops, looking at the hat. “It is?” He turns it over. The other side looks exactly the same. “It’s kind of hard to tell,” he admits.

Wendy shrugs. An idea suddenly dawns on him.

“You know,” he starts, and Wendy must hear the mischief in his tone because she immediately frowns at him. “It would be kinda funny if he wore it backwards.”

Unconvinced, Wendy asks, “Would it?”

“Yeah! My older cousins once convinced me that you can wear a skirt like a shirt, and they thought it was pretty funny, so I guess it must be funny to wear clothes wrong.”

“Maybe.” She still sounds dubious.

Walter stands up, gesturing for Webber to join them. “Here, give it to him,” he whispers to Wendy, shoving the hat back into her hands as Webber approaches.

“What is it?” the boy asks, glancing back and forth from Walter to Wendy. His smaller eyes don’t quite synchronize with the movements of his larger ones, and Walter finds himself momentarily distracted by this. Luckily, Wendy takes charge, standing as well. She holds the hat out to him.

“Here. Try this on,” she says.

“Oh, you finished our hat!” Webber exclaims. He grins as he takes it, taking a moment just as Walter did to marvel at the softness, before placing it over his head. Wendy’s initial assessment that the hat was too big was immediately obvious, and coupled with having put it on the wrong way, the hat leaves Webber with just a bit of his furry head showing. The front lip falls all the way down past where his nose would be, and his mouth is just barely visible underneath, open in alarm.

“It covers our eyes!” Webber says loudly, as if to make up for his lack of sight.

Walter giggles, trying vainly to stifle it with a hand, and Wendy shushes him. “It’s the intended design, Webber. And you have to wear it because I made it for you.”

They both know Webber will be too polite to object to that. His mouth abruptly shuts, hiding his fangs, and Walter thinks he sees the boy swallow, as if steeling his nerves. His stance straightens, like he’s fully committing to spending the entire winter blinded. “We will wear it then!” he declares, turning and almost immediately running headfirst into the camp’s outer stone wall. With a startled cry, he backs up, and Walter just barely manages to grab hold of his shoulder before he trips and falls backwards.

“Thank you,” Webber says as he regains his balance. “This hat is scary!”

Wendy laughs. It escapes her like a puff of smoke, a small, flightless thing that could be mistaken as nothing more than a breath come too fast. But Walter can tell what it is, and he looks to her in surprise for a moment before a grin spreads across his face.

He thinks Webber can tell what it is too, because Walter sees him lift the hem of the hat, and even though he’s not very good at discerning spider expressions, to him, Webber looks incredibly pleased.

“That was amusing,” Wendy says after they’ve gotten the hat off Webber and tucked away in Wendy’s bag for further tailoring. “I will admit that despite your naivety, you have good ideas, Walter.”

It’s a bit of a backhanded compliment, but Walter doesn’t take it personally. “Thanks. You’re a lot better at holding it together when it comes to pranks, though.”

She nods. “That is true. Does that mean you would be opposed to orchestrating a second one?”

He grins. “Not at all.”

They get Webber to help with their next one. Willow’s used to him spending nights by the spider dens along the forest, so it’s not suspicious if he doesn’t show up by nightfall.

Woby whines, shaking her shaggy head as Webber gets close, and Walter does his best to hold onto her collar and keep her from bucking him away and scampering off. “It’s okay girl, he’s nice, trust me,” Walter soothes, petting her big floppy ears as Webber struggles to mount her.

He gets it eventually, holding on tight to the fur on the back of Woby’s neck, and Walter takes her head between his hands and speaks very sternly. “Be nice to Webber, and listen to him, okay? We’re doing a prank on Willow, and you’ve gotta be good for it.” Woby woofs, which doesn’t really sound like agreement, but she seems to quickly give in, licking his face affectionately when Walter pouts at her. He grins. “There’s a good girl.”

He rejoins Wendy by the outer camp wall, where she’d been watching.

“It is impressive how well you have tamed such a great beast,” she says.

He shrugs. “Woby’s not much of a beast. She’s scared of butterflies.”

“I see.”

Nightfall finds both of them back in camp with Willow, watching as she rummages through the fridge for something to put together into a half-decent meal. Wendy looks over to him and gives him a nudge, indicating that they should start.

“I have a story!” Walter announces loudly, planting himself cross-legged by the fire. That does enough to gather attention. Willow likes to pretend she isn’t all that interested in his stories, but oftentimes she’s the one sitting most on edge, her chin resting on her hands as she listens with wide eyes and held breath for him to finish.

Now is no exception. She lingers at the crockpot for a moment while Wendy joins him by the fire, although sky quickly abandons the meatballs she’d been preparing in favor of listening to the story. Walter clears his throat, glancing out beyond the walls. There’s a small gleam of light out there, a torch, where Webber and Woby are waiting for their cue.

“So there’s this monster out in the woods,” he begins, putting his hands up. He’d practiced for this one, no messing up or scrambling his words. It has to be good. He takes a breath to steady himself.

“They say it’s huge, almost three meters tall, with long shaggy fur that drags behind it, getting all dirty with mud and leaves, and long scary claws. The people who see it say it looks like a piece of the forest itself.” He thinks that was pretty good, but Willow doesn’t look impressed yet. He goes off script, amping it up. “A-And it’s super venomous too, with acid breath and big sharp teeth!” He claws his hands in front of his face, imitating fangs. “It goes around hunting people who wander too far into the woods. Sometimes, people’ll see lights shining through the trees without knowing that they’re just the monster’s shiny eyes.”

The fire pops, sparks flying as if to emphasize his words. Willow seems pretty enraptured now, head tilted slightly as her eyes flick between the flames and Walter’s gestures.

“What else?” Wendy prompts, just as they’d planned.

For the briefest moment, the script slips from his mind, and Walter stumbles. “Huh? Oh, yeah, so--” he clears his throat again. “It uh…”

“They say…” Wendy whispers.

“Right! They say it roams out there, stalking unsuspecting campers...” he turns and finds that speck of light with his eyes again, raising his voice for the final line. “...Waiting for a chance to strike!”

With a resonant howl, Woby leaps over the southern wall of the camp. Webber, with his hands wrapped around her neck, holds on for dear life. She doesn’t quite nail the landing, scrambling to slow down on the dirt and slamming sideways into the alchemy engine, nearly knocking it over.

Walter giddily looks to see Willow's expression, but quickly finds himself pushed backwards, scraping his knees in the dirt, with Wendy toppled over and looking equally confused beside him. He winces, assessing the rough scratches of grit on his skin. Once he’s confirmed he’s not bleeding, he glances forward.

There is a towering dark shape before him, backlit by the glow of the fire, and it takes him a moment to realize it’s Willow, her spear readied and sharp in her grasp. She’d shoved them behind her almost immediately, widening her stance and placing herself firmly between them and Woby.

Walter uprights himself, reaching out hesitantly for her sleeve. “Willow--”

Her head snaps down to him, and he flinches backwards. There’s nothing but ferocity and aggression in her eyes, although it slowly fades as she takes note of Woby skittering away from her spearpoint nervously, and Webber sliding clumsily off her back, landing with an ‘oof’.

After another few moments of taking in the scene, her stance drops. “Okay,” she says finally, sinking her spearpoint into the dirt and turning to glower at each of the children in turn. “I don’t know what you all were thinking, but that was really dumb. Like, actually really dumb.”

“It was my idea,” Wendy pipes up, brushing dirt off her skirt as she stands up. “I asked Walter--”

“No, you just said you wanted to do a prank,” he argues. It doesn’t feel fair for her to try and take blame. He faces Willow, hands folded behind his back. “It was my idea.”

“...We just thought it would be fun, Ms. Willow,” Webber says sheepishly, wringing his hands as he edges forward.

“Yeah? Well I could’ve stabbed you. Bet that would’ve been real fun,” she snaps.

Webber’s eyes start welling. Seeing this, Water steps forward. “I asked him to do it. It’s my fault.”

Her sharp gaze turns to him and Walter stiffens, looking down and feeling very much in trouble. Still, he can’t let his friends take the heat for him. He’s got honor, after all.

“I know you don’t know yet, but things bursting into our camp and attacking us isn’t really something we can joke about,” Willow lectures, her tone like an edge of broken glass. “Putting one of you in the position of some monster? That’s really, really dumb.”

Walter keeps examining his shoes, his hands tightening around each other behind his back. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

Something in Willow seems to soften at that. She sighs, patting him on the shoulder. “Just. Don’t pull that sh-- stuff again.” She grimaces. “I have a headache. See you in the morning.” With that, she disappears into the tent.

Webber still looks on the verge of tears, and Walter murmurs an apology to him as well. Through it all, Wendy still looks nothing more than apathetic. She glances to the tent, then nods, as if to herself.

“To be fair,” she says. “Conceptually, it was very amusing.”

Walter sniffs, brightening at that. “Yeah?”

The tiniest of smiles graces her lips. “Yeah.”

#don't starve #dont starve #dont starve together #dst #dst walter #ds wendy #ds willow #dst fic #dont starve fic #my writing #reblogs and comments appreciated!#marine blogs #finally another chapter done!#ended up being longer than expected even w me scrapping an entire other scene

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