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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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In a Perfect World, You Love Me [i]

din djarin x female!reader

warnings: injury, mentions of blood, cursing, derogatory name calling, forced drug exposure, hallucinations, light smut, angst, and some angst, and a little more angst just to top it off (actually this isn’t nearly as heartbreaking as some stuff i’ve written before lol), self doubt, anxiety, also cobb vanth is here. it’s not a warning but i love him so i wanted to mention it.🤷🏻‍♀️

word count: 6,961

Summary: On the way to visit an old friend, you and Mando find trouble. Both of you are subjected to a drug that puts you in your perfect world. But, when you can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t, how do you know what to trust?

a/n: bitches be planning out short drabbles about heart break only for it to turn into a long wordy mess. it’s me. i’m bitches. anybody know the show supernatural? it’s a show about like dramatic ass sad brothers who travel the country fighting monsters? (i know you know i’m being sarcastic). i watched that one episode where the djinn puts dean in like a dream world and it inspired this. i wanted to name it ‘din djarin’s djinn dream’ but that seemed a bit too on the nose.

“sometimes it is not love that breaks your heart. it is disappointment.”

-r.m. drake

Grogu was safe. That was the first thought that came to mind. You were so incredibly grateful that Mando had decided to leave the small child with Peli at the shop. It had been a last minute call. Weirdly, you were also thankful that you hadn’t stayed behind. You nearly did. Traveling through the Dune Sea was an absolutely miserable experience between the heat and the sand. It would have been so much more comfortable to just sit in the shop, cuddle with Grogu, and watch Peli con her customers.

However, when Mando mentioned he was going to Mos Pelgo you jumped at the chance to visit Cobb Vanth. It had been ages since you last saw the man, and you were eager to catch up with the marshal. So you climbed onto Mando’s rented land speeder, wrapped your arms around his beskar armor, and the two of you set off. What was supposed to be a simple day trip to greet an old friend and ask for a favor turned into a Maker forsaken nightmare.

Your face was throbbing in pain, you tasted blood in your mouth, and you were fairly certain your right wrist was broken based on the swelling and discoloration. Despite all of that, despite the pain and fear, the thought occurred to you once more. You were so thankful you were here.

“How pathetic.” The smuggler cackled amongst his small crew. “You’re going to protect the Mandalorian from us? You dumb bitch.”

Five dangerous men stood at the rim of the pit you were trapped in while Mando laid motionless behind you. There was a bit of blood pooling from out of the bottom of his helmet, onto the sand, and the only comfort you had that Mando was still with you was the slow rise and fall of his chest.

The smugglers had set a trap that Mando and you had fallen right into. As your land speeder tripped a wire it caused a blast that had both of you falling into a pit. The damned thing was deep enough to leave both of you injured and you prayed that your injuries were worse than Mando’s and he was just out cold for a moment. Your attackers began to argue amongst one another and you stayed on high alert. Mando and you were fish in a barrel. They could rain blaster fire down on you and there would be nothing you could do about it. The only reason you hadn’t grabbed Mando’s blaster to fire up is because you didn’t want to trigger a massacre.

“Shoot her dead then climb down and collect the beskar. Easy.” One smuggler scoffed and pulled out his blaster. You flinched but the loudest of the men, the leader, shoved the blaster’s aim away from you. “What?”

“The moment we try and get off world we’re gonna get stopped by those damned pirates again.” He snapped. “We keep the girl alive and hand her over as the tax we pay to pass free. We keep all the Mandalorian’s armor to ourselves.”

“Who’d want a bitch over beskar?”

“Oh, trust me.” The lead smuggler chuckled and the sound made you cringe. You set your hand in Mando’s gloved one and wished more than anything his grip would tighten around you rather than stay limp. “I know the man running the show right now, and he’s got a weakness for pretty little things.”

You tried to hide the tremble that shook your frame and you whispered for Mando to wake up⏤ for him to hear you. The lead smuggler opened his bag and you grasped Mando’s blaster. As threateningly as you could manage, you barked out. “You come down here and I’ll kill you. You hear me?!”

“Aw, she’s got some bite. Maybe we should keep her instead.”

“Shut the hell up.” The lead snapped and continued to root through his bag. “Where the kriff is that damned spice bomb?” Your eyebrows furrowed. Spice was bad news. It wasn’t something you ever wanted to touch. You had seen what the addiction could do to people, and you had a very bad feeling about what a spice bomb would be. “There it is.”

Panic hit you, and you lifted the blaster to start firing but the leader tossed a glowing red ball down into the pit and the smugglers dove away from the hole. The ball exploded mid way down into a cloud of red dust that rained down on you and Mando. You tried to cover your mouth and nose with the bottom of your shirt, but it was to no avail. Your entire body grew heavy, collapsing on top of Mando’s chest, and a sharp, tingling sensation washed over you before your eyes fell shut.

Din woke with a start⏤ panting and desperate for air. His mind was filled with a heavy fog that he tried to swim through to gather his bearings. There had been a wire. Din noticed it much too late and he remembered the ground swallowing you and him whole. You. Your scream was the last thing he could recall.

His hands drifted to his face and Din hated that it was only then that he noticed he wasn’t wearing a helmet. He blamed the fog. Din scrambled about the soft bed he realized he was tucked into as he searched the space around him for his armor. Din was in a bedroom he didn’t recognize wearing only a pair of sleep pants. Dank farrik. Din leapt out of bed but stumbled rather than landed with any amount of grace. Where was he? Where were you??

He forced himself to take a steadying breath and centered himself.

The bedroom was small. Only a large bed, a clothing dresser, and two nightstands on either side of the bed. The walls were painted a soft blue, two doors leading out, and one wall had a window that spanned nearly the entire length of the room. Din blinked in confusion. Outside was a bustling city with towering pillar-like buildings and early morning light spilling down through holes in the upper shelf casting light on a city that was very much alive. Din knew where he was. He just didn’t know how he got here or how this was even possible.

“Sundari?” He breathed in shock. Din had only seen images of the cities of Mandalore. Sundari, the domed capital city, being the most infamous of all. This must have been a dream. Exactly how hard had he hit his head in the fall?

Din, in all his distraction, hadn’t even noticed the sound of running water until it stopped. He spun on his heel and stared at the door in the corner which must have led into a fresher. Din wasn’t alone. His hand snapped to his hip for his blaster but met air. Maker, he’d be happy when this concussion finally passed. He scanned the room for any kind of weapon he could use and as he grasped the nightstand drawer he froze. Sitting on top of the small table was a holo image being projected up from a disk as decor.

It was a photo of you and Grogu. Din narrowed his eyes at it in confusion. The two of you were at a park of some kind, but he couldn’t recall where or when this had occurred. The door opened, making Din jump in surprise. Fine, concussion or not, he’d fight his way out by hand. However, as if he couldn’t possibly be caught more off guard, you stepped out of the bathroom wearing only a towel.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” You stepped toward him and Din stayed frozen in place. Your hands came up to run across his bare chest before settling on his waist where you continued to trace your fingertips up and down in a repetitive pattern. There was so much happening at once that Din didn’t even know what to think. It didn’t help that the moment your skin touched his, his mind seemed to short circuit. “I was trying to let you sleep in for at least a little.”

Ever since you had confessed to him weeks ago that you wanted more than just a friendship Din had been plagued with dreams of you. Visions of you moaning under him as he buried himself into your warmth, of you riding his cock while his hands explored your body, of him simply holding you in his arms and memorizing your features unimpeded by his helmet. But never had it ever felt this real.

“Din?” You tilted your head. Hearing his name from your lips, he shuddered. How was this happening? You staring up at his bare face and whispering his name in concern.

Din tried to open his mouth and speak, but his voice had left him. When you confessed to him, it had taken every fiber of his being to not react. As much as he cared about you, as badly as he wanted you, he knew it was a bad idea. Din knew he had to draw a line to keep you safe. He was dangerous and Din knew it was selfish of him to keep you and Grogu around despite that. He always figured the two of you would go your separate ways when the jedi were found and Grogu was delivered, but Din would never be able to say good-bye to you if he crossed that line. So he lied. Told you he didn’t feel the same and walked away leaving you teary eyed and broken hearted.

You frowned. Your eyebrows furrowed and he had the overwhelming urge to smooth out your brow with his fingers. Trace every inch of your face with his hands. “You look sad, love.” You lifted your hands to cup his face. “Did you have that nightmare again?”

“Wh⏤What?” Din’s voice was quiet and ragged.

“We’re safe now. You don’t have to worry.” You caressed his cheek. “Me, you, and Grogu. We’re all safe. We have a home. Our days of running are over.”

Din shook his head. “No, no. We were in the Dune Sea. I⏤I missed the trip wire and we fell. You were hurt. We⏤”

“Din, that was so long ago. Out of all the bantha shit we’ve dealt with I’m surprised that memory is the one plaguing you.” You said.

Din pulled out of your arms. “It wasn’t. It just happened. You’re lost⏤ You’re hurt. I have to⏤”

“I’m not lost. I’m not hurt. I’m safe, right here with you, in our home. Grogu is still sleeping down the hall. There’s no place safer for our son and I.” You set your hands on his chest once more. “Grogu with his buir, and I with my riduur.”

Din was so shocked by the Mando’a that left your lips that he didn’t even register the soft kiss you pressed in the middle of his chest. Right where his iron heart would be if he had his armor on. You stepped away from him, walking to the dresser off to the side, and Din watched you go until you let the towel fall from your body. He forced his gaze up to the ceiling to keep from staring. Something felt wrong. Was this a dream? Was he dead?

Din didn’t trust the world around him.

You startled awake. A cloud of panic and fear drowning you.

“Mando!?” The nickname left your lips before you even registered a thought. You scrambled to sit up, arms reaching out to try and find purchase, but it was too dark to see anything. Even without your sight, something felt familiar about the material under your body and the comforting smell surrounding you, but the last memory of the smugglers dropping the spice bomb had too much adrenaline rushing through your body for you to think properly.

The wall in front of you shot up with a metallic click and a light blinded you. Hands grabbed your calves and you screamed again trying to kick them off. “Mesh’la! You’re safe!” Mando’s modulated voice filled the air. “You’re on the Razor Crest. You’re in my bunk.”

Your eyes adjusted to the light and you recognized your setting. That’s why it was familiar. Mando’s scent surrounded you as you were nestled in the blankets and pillow he used to sleep. Standing at the bunk’s entrance was the Mandalorian himself. He looked unharmed, but he always looked unharmed when he was covered from head to toe in his beskar.

“Mando!” You cried in alarm and launched yourself at him. He didn’t complain when you wrapped your arms around him tightly. Mando simply held onto you and kept you from knocking him over. This should be awkward considering how he had bluntly said he felt nothing for you only weeks ago. But, you were so relieved that he was safe and alive that you didn’t care. His hands rubbed your back soothingly as he mumbled soft reassurances. “I thought you⏤ I thought we⏤”

“We’re safe, mesh’la.” Mando replied.

You leaned back and he kept his arms around you. “What happened? The last thing I remember…” It hurt to try and pull the memory out of your own head. Spice bomb. Red dust had rained over you and Mando. You passed out on top of him. “The⏤The bomb.”

“It knocked you out.” Mando said. “My helmet filtered it out, I think. I woke up with you on top of me and the smugglers were climbing down. We fought. I won. Then I carried you back to Peli’s.”

“All of that happened?”

“We’re in hyperspace now.”

“How,” You shook your head, “How long was I out?”

“Two days. The spice hit your systems hard. I was⏤” Mando cleared his throat, the sound scratchy through the modulator. “I was worried about you, mesh’la.”

It was only then you realized you still had your hands resting on his shoulders and he had his own wrapped around your waist as you sat on your knees⏤ the bunk making the two of you eye level. You swallowed nervously. “I, uh, it was you I was worried about. Your head. I thought I saw blood when you were out cold.”

“Small injury. Only took one round of bacta to clear up.”

“Good.”

“You, on the other hand,” Mando mumbled. He brushed his gloved fingers across your face. The touch lingered on your cheekbone. The same one that had hit the ground hard enough to make your face throb. Mando pulled his other hand away to wrap around your non-bruised and non-swollen wrist. How much bacta had he used to get all your injuries healed in two days? “Mesh’la, I am so sorry.”

You shook your head. “None of that was your fault.”

Mando kept quiet, as if he didn’t agree but didn’t know what else to say. The sound of a soft coo made you lean forward and peer around the edge of the bunk where Grogu was standing by the ladder leading up to the cockpit. He lifted his arms and waddled closer. Mando released you to pick the small child up. Grogu whined until Mando set him in your lap and you didn’t hesitate to cuddle the boy to your chest.

Thank the Maker, he hadn’t been with the two of you. You let out another sigh of relief. It seemed like you and Mando had gotten out of the pit by luck alone and you don’t know what you would’ve done if Grogu had been harmed during the whole thing.

“Here. Let’s get you some food.” Mando set a hand on your elbow to help you slide out of the bunk. What caught you off guard was when he let his hand travel from your arm to your lower back as he led you toward the ladder. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his entire frame. Mando was a good man. It wasn’t the shiny, silver metal of a Mandalorian you were attracted to or the reputation of a dangerous and strong bounty hunter. You had fallen for the kind and protective man who hid under both of those roles. Mando’s head turned to stare back at you and a thrill went down your spine. He whispered your name.

You took a step away and cleared your throat. Mando let his arm fall away. Your obsession with him, your stupid idiotic crush on him, had you misreading signals left and right. The only reason you had confessed was because you convinced yourself that he was shooting you lingering looks and that every brush of his hand against you was purposeful and not a mistake made in passing.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. Mando had made his position clear, and you were done crossing the lines and boundaries he had set.

“Can you get up to the flight deck alright?” Mando asked and you nodded. “I’ll bring you something to eat.”

Mando tilted his head toward the ladder and he waited until you began to climb⏤ as if he was worried you’d fall off mid-way up. When you got upstairs, you settled into the co-pilot’s chair with Grogu in your lap and stared out at the blurring lines of hyperspace. A small smile settled on your features.

The world around you was right again.

Din felt more like himself once he had his armor on. It still felt like the world around him was spinning and nothing made sense, but his beskar was like a heavy, impenetrable comfort blanket. He sat in a kitchen, helmet on, as he stared out at Sundari through a window that sat near a dining table. It seemed the home around him was part of a tower inside the domed city, and Din still couldn’t wrap his brain around that. The sound of footsteps startled him and he turned in time to see you padding down the hall with Grogu in your arms. He pushed to stand⏤ seeing the small child putting him at ease.

“Why do you have your helmet on?” You asked after handing Grogu to him. The child bounced in his arms chanting a recognizable sound asking for food. “Are you leaving already? Don’t you want breakfast?”

Din stayed quiet. You moved around the kitchen with the ease of someone who did this regularly, and he watched you make a meal. It didn’t make sense, he didn’t understand, but he couldn’t deny the attraction he felt toward you being so domestic. Especially after you had just claimed that he was your partner, your husband, your riduur.

“Come here, cutie.” You cooed to Grogu and he let you take the boy from him. You set him in a little high chair and set a bowl of food in front of him. As per usual, Grogu didn’t hesitate to begin scarfing down what was in front of him. You lovingly pressed a kiss to his head then walked over to lean at the corner of the kitchen island next to him. “Din, please talk to me.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. “You’re starting to scare me.”

“I’m sorry, Mesh’la.” He sighed.

You had shifted even closer to the bar stool he sat on. Din tensed when your hands settled on his thighs and you stepped between them. Slowly, you took his hand in yours and began to peel his gloves off. Din sucked in a breath, but couldn’t find a complaint to speak. You did the same thing with his other hand. Finally, your hands rested on his helmet, but you didn’t move. Not until Din gave a small nod. You pulled his helmet off carefully, respectfully resting it on the counter, and Din felt his features soften as he stared at you. Maker, you were beautiful.

“Din, listen to me, I love you.” You said. A pretty smile spread across your features and you took his face between your hands. “But if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I am going to kick your ass.” He chuckled and leaned into your touch. Was Din losing his mind? If this was insanity, it felt so good that Din really didn't think he minded. “Are you… Are you having one of your mornings?”

“One of my… mornings?” Din furrowed his brow.

“You know, when the nightmare doesn’t end.” You whispered.

Din shook his head. “This isn’t a nightmare. It’s a dream. A dream I don’t deserve.” He let his hands rest on top of yours with the plan to pull them away, but he was too weak to actually go through with it. Din sighed, “I lied to you.” A flash of confusion crossed your features. “I said I didn’t care about you in the same way you felt about me, but it was a lie. From the moment you stepped onto the Razor Crest I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. Mesh’la, you are my world.”

“Din, are you…” You paused then a small laugh left you, “Maker, are you talking about when we were trying to get to Mos Pelgo, still? I confessed to you and then we got caught weeks later and…” You shook your head. “Don’t scare me like that. When you said you were sorry and you lied, I was worried something had happened. It’s just a bad morning. They always pass.”

“What are you talking about?” Din asked.

“Fine. I’ll jump start your memory.” You pushed up on your tiptoes and then sat on his thigh. Naturally, his hands went around your waist to keep you from falling and your hands wrapped around his neck. “You confessed to me. It happened months later. You’re an incredible bounty hunter, but you move slow as hell, Din.” He narrowed his eyes. “It was right after we decided to keep Grogu with us. Become a real family. For the record, it also took you way too long to propose to me too.”

Din could picture it all and it made everything so much more confusing. Had that happened? No. Not yet. Yet? Had he meant to think of that word? Yet? Din wasn’t planning any of that, but it sounded right. No part of him thought he deserved you or Grogu, but Maker this was what he always wanted. It was the life he craved, but was too broken to admit aloud.

“But,” Din tried to find a tether to hold him in reality, “Sundari. We live in Sundari? Mandalore is dead.”

“No, it wasn’t. The poison the Empire caused faded away. We rebuilt.” The sound of a door chime made you glance over your shoulder. “Kriff. She’s here early.” You slid off his lap. “Grogu, we’re gonna be late! Let’s get you cleaned up so Soran can walk you to school.”

Din watched you scoop Grogu up, the boy gave him a wave he returned numbly, and the two of you disappeared down the hall. Were his fears the reason he was confused? What if what you said was right? He was just trapped in a nightmare and it was keeping him from living his life. Din had finally taken the leap, taken the chance, and found his perfect home. Now, his fear was crawling back and trying to ruin it again. Din always did this. He always fought himself. It was why he had denied your initial confession and wasted so much time in the first place.

Moments passed, he could hear you moving around the home with Grogu. Until finally the door chime rang again. Din stood up and faced the hall. Seconds later, you stepped back into view. You gave him a bright smile.

“Alright, where were we?”

Fully accepting this for what it was, Din marched toward you. Your feet came to a stuttering stop and an excitement filled your eyes. You knew what he was doing before even he knew entirely. Din basically tackled you, pressing your body as tight as he could to his chest, and crushed his lips to yours. You responded immediately. Your hands wrapping around his neck as his tongue found it’s way past your lips. Din let his hands trail down your back, over your ass, under your thighs, and with ease began to pick you up. Just like with the kiss, you were on the same page as he was. You jumped just enough for him to lift you off the ground and your legs wrapped around his waist⏤ locking your ankles at his back.

Din had planned to carry you down the hall, back to the bedroom, but he felt you grind against him and that plan went right out the window. He slammed you against the wall, lips leaving yours to trail down your neck. Maker, he wanted you. Keeping you pinned to the wall with his hips, relying on your grip around his waist and neck, Din pulled his hands away so he could grab the collar of your shirt. He ripped it down to the middle of your torso so his mouth could reach your breasts.

“I liked that shirt, you know.” You gasped, but the way you kept trying to find friction against his hard on told him you didn’t like it all that much.

“I’ll buy you a new one.” Din replied before leaving open mouth kisses down your chest. One hand went back to cup around your thigh and the other yanked your breast band down so his mouth could wrap around your nipple. The unholy moan that left your lips nearly made him come undone right then and there.

“You’re going to be late to work. They need you today.”

“Mesh’la, I don’t kriffing care.” Din said after pulling his lips away from your breast. His mouth found its way back to yours and after leaving a messy kiss there he pulled away only far enough to speak. “As far as I’m concerned the only place I’m needed is right between your thighs.”

Din licked into your mouth, and he was startled when your hands untangled from around his neck. Then, with great proficiency, you began to unlatch his armor. His vambrace and left pauldron fell to the ground with a heavy thunk. “How did you do that so fast? How’d you know where the latches were?”

“I’m your wife, dummy.” You unlatched his right one, it joined the other on the floor, then you ripped the cloak out from under the top of his chest piece and pulled down on the collar of his shirt so you could leave too soft, teasing kisses against the hollow of his throat. “Now, either keep carrying me down the hall to our bed or drop me on the floor⏤ I don’t care, I just need you to fuck me.”

Din was not going to make it to the bedroom.

You rose from your seat with Grogu nestled in your arms sleeping. It hadn’t taken long for the boy to fall asleep between the warmth of your arms and the silence of hyperspace. As you drifted toward the door, Mando spoke up.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna put him in his hammock is all.” You whispered.

Mando glanced over his shoulder at you then nodded. “Good. Come back up when you’re done.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise but you gave him a quiet confirmation before leaving the cockpit. You made your way down the ladder slowly and carefully so you didn’t wake or drop the little green gremlin snoring against your chest. You chuckled and rubbed his back while crossing the cargo hold. When you set him in the hammock, he stirred briefly and you took the time to lightly rock the hammock while humming him a lullaby. Only when you were convinced he had fallen back into a restful sleep did you find your way back to the cockpit.

“He’s down for the count.” You joked and dropped back into your chair.

Mando flipped a few switches on the panel before spinning the pilot’s seat so he was facing you. Your eyes widened and you shifted awkwardly in place. The weight of his heavy stare on you was intense. It burned into you and for a brief second you were sure he could see straight into your soul.

“What’s going on?” You asked. “You okay?”

“I could’ve lost you.” Mando whispered. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

“It’s over, Mando. We don’t have to think about it anymore.”

“It’s not over, mesh’la. There will always be another fight, another opportunity for someone to take you from me.” He argued.

Mando wasn’t wrong. Your lives were a constant battle to maintain the upper hand over all the people trying to take Grogu and harm both of you. It was the exact reason why you had found the courage to confess to him in the first place. You stupidly convinced yourself that you didn’t want to lose anymore time⏤ waste another second. The silence in the cockpit was agonizing. You wanted so badly to break it, but you had no idea what to say to do so.

Luckily, Mando did not have that same problem.

“Come here, mesh’la.” He motioned you toward him with the curling motion of his fingers. You swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in the middle of your throat like a rock. “Please.” The word was spoken softly, but there was a firm undertone that made it feel less like a request and more like a command. You stood up and took the single shaky step that was required to put you in his reach. Mando’s hands found your hips and he startled you by pulling you into his lap. With a yelp of surprise, you were forced to rest your knees on the outside of his thighs. The moment you were situated Mando spread his own thighs further so each of your legs were pinned between him and the chair and you were even more open to him. “Oh, sweet girl…”

“Mando. What⏤ What are you doing?” You whispered. Your entire face felt hot⏤ kriff, every inch of you felt hot.

He shook his head, his hands roaming up and down your sides, “I never should have said no to you. What happened, it made me realize how much,” Mando raised a gloved hand to your face, “how much I care about you.”

“Wait, really?” You breathed. It was the stupidest kind of response to give and you hated that you just blurted it out. Mando chuckled in response, and you shook your head. “Mando, maybe you’re just… feeling this way because what happened was so fresh. We should give it a little time⏤”

“I spent two days waiting for you to open those pretty eyes for me, sweet girl.” Mando cut in. “I’m not losing another second with you.”

The hand fell from your face to rest on your shoulder and, with the other still on your hip, Mando pressed you down on top of him. He shifted his own hips so he could drag the hard bulge in his pants against your core. A sharp gasp of surprise left your lips. Mando kept you pressed against him and when he dragged his hip against yours again the sensation caused you to groan this time.

“Dank farrik.” Mando grunted as he bucked up against you⏤ this time you moved your own hips to add to the friction and he moaned. The sound of him losing control shot straight to your core and you let your hands rest on his chest so you could grind into him more. Maker, you wanted to hear that sound again.

Mando sat up straight and the only thing keep you from tumbling off his lap was the hand he wrapped around your waist. He reached past you, hands hitting switches and buttons, and suddenly the entire panel of flickering lights went dead. “Mando?” You questioned. He hit one more switch and you glanced over your shoulder to watch as the windows darkened until the lights of hyperspace couldn’t be seen. Nothing could be seen. A hiss of pressure release, then a hand took hold of your jaw to turn you back so you faced forward.

“Mesh’la.” Mando whispered. Before you had only heard his unmodulated voice from a distance, as he was eating out of sight or lying in his bunk with the door closed. But, now it was closer than you could ever imagine. He mumbled your name and you could feel the movement of his lips just barely brushing against yours⏤ his hot breath on your face. “Say you want me, mesh’la.”

You took in a deep breath and nodded. “I want you, Mando. I’ve always wanted you.”

Rather than pressing his lips to yours as you wanted, Mando lifted you with ease and pressed you against the control panel. Something sharp was jabbing you in the back, but you didn’t care. Mando’s leather gloves roughly yanked your pants down, underwear and all. You had lifted your hips just enough to help him, but when you lowered yourself back into a seated position you hissed at the cold metal against your bare skin.

You lifted your hands to find his shoulders, you wanted to feel his face, but Mando’s hands grabbed you by the wrists and pinned them to the panel by your head. He leaned over you and slowly dragged his hard cock, hidden behind his flight suit, against your already dripping wet lips⏤ but it wasn’t the only lips you wanted touched.

“Kiss me, please.” You begged and tried to lift your head to find his, but he leaned back just enough to avoid you. “Mando, I want to feel you⏤ all of you⏤ please.”

“Not yet, mesh’la. Be patient.” His entire weight was pressing down on you. “Good girls are patient, and only good girls get rewarded. Is that what you want, mesh’la? To be my good girl?” You nodded, breathless from the agonizingly slow way he was grinding into you. “Words, mesh’la.”

“Yes.” You gasped. “Please, Mando, please⏤”

“How lucky am I?” Mando hummed. “To have such a pretty girl begging under me. I’ve wanted to make you fall apart since the moment you stepped onto my ship.” You tensed as an alarm began to faintly ring at the back of your mind. Something inside you was trying to warn you. Mando kept whispering loving words on top of you. “You’re mine, mesh’la. You’ve always been mine and you always will be.”

“No.” You tried to squirm out from under him, but Mando was much too large and much too heavy for you to even move an inch. “No, no, no.”

Taking the hint, Mando released your hands and jumped away from you. Breathless, you tried to sit up and gather your bearings. “What is it, mesh’la? What’s wrong?”

“This is wrong.” You shook your head.

“No, it’s right. This is what you want, this is what I want.”

“No, it’s not.” A sob left you. “You don’t want me. You said so yourself. You don’t want me. This isn’t right.” Your head was beginning to pound in pain and Mando’s voice sounded like it was suddenly far away. The cold metal under you was beginning to turn hot and the firm smoothness of the control panel was taking on a new texture⏤ something grainy that shifted under you. The darkness turned to a blinding light and you gasped as pain began to settle into you.

Your face was throbbing, you tasted blood in your mouth, and your right wrist was aching. Now you had a pounding headache as well. You blinked your eyes, trying to clear the blurriness out of your vision, and you saw a man climbing down a ladder into the pit you laid in. The smugglers. The spice bomb. Your hand tightened around the blaster you had taken from Mando and you lifted your heavy arm to fire at the man. It hit him in the back and he fell from the ladder and landed motionless only a few feet away.

You blindly fired shots up to the ridge of the pit. Over and over⏤ not knowing what else to do. You fired so much that you never noticed the sound of someone else’s blaster mingling with yours. A familiar voice was calling out to you, but it wasn’t Mando. Your heavy arm sunk back into the sand, blaster falling loose, and your eyes began to droop in exhaustion.

You wished it was Mando calling for you.

You woke up slowly. Your entire body was sore and it took straight willpower to get your eyes to stay open. There was a thin cot underneath you and a flickering fire ahead of you. A groan fell from your lips as you tried to sit up.

“Whoa, whoa,” A familiar voice said, “Slow down there, little lady.”

“Vanth?” You tried to turn to find your friend, but a warm hand kept you from moving too much. Suddenly, Cobb Vanth was kneeling beside you with a charming grin. Your entire body sagged in relief. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now.”

Vanth rubbed his jawline and gave you a wink, “I am much better looking than those damned smugglers, huh? How’d you and Mando get caught up in all that mess?”

“Mando!” You sat up quickly, immediately wincing when a sharp pain shot through you.

“Maker, darling.” Vanth scolded. “Your tin man is doing just fine. He’ll feel just as shitty as you when he finally wakes up.”

You glanced around and just as Vanth said your companion was lying on a small rolled out cot of his own. The firelight dancing as it reflected off his beskar. “He’s really okay? I think he had a head injury.”

“He’s fine. I promise you.” You nodded and Vanth offered you a canteen of water. As he asked, you began to tell him the story of what happened. It didn’t take long until you reached the point of the story that made your cheeks warm. Vanth noticed your hesitance and bumped his shoulder into yours. “Say your piece.”

“They threw a spice bomb and… and some weird shit happened.”

“Yeah, a spice bomb will do that to you.”

“What is it?”

“Depends. What’d you see?”

You paused before shrugging. “I was on the Razor Crest. Traveling with Mando and Grogu. Like always. It was… it felt so real.”

“Probably glitterstim then.” Vanth made you drink more water. “I have no idea how you broke out of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The drug should’ve put you under. Place you in a happy haze of the thing you want most and trap you there for as long as the drug runs its course. Too much and you can end up dying in that perfect little world.” Vanth explained. “Usually, you can’t get out unless someone hits you with an antidote. Something to cancel the effects of the glitterstim. Unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless you shock yourself out of it.” Vanth shrugged. “It all happens quick. In the first few minutes you either fall into the spice’s trap or you snap through it. The fact that I saw you wake up and shoot that smuggler is quite the feat, darling. How’d you do it?”

You wrapped your arms around your legs and rested your chin on your knees. The drug in your system deemed your perfect world to be Mando confessing how badly he wanted you. How pathetic was that? You didn’t stay under because even in a drugged out haze your mind knew that it was fake. Mando didn’t want you. Not the way you wanted him. Tears filled your eyes. Vanth didn’t press for you to answer and instead set his arm around your shoulder as a comfort. You leaned into him and fell asleep.

Every single part of Din’s body hurt. It reminded him of when the mudhorn had tossed him around like a ragdoll. Every atom in his body though, despite the pain, screamed danger. Din forced himself to sit up, blaster drawn. He was in the desert, by a fire in the dead of night. Across from him, he saw Cobb Vanth sitting there casually. Din’s blaster was pointed at him, but Vanth just gave him a slight wave.

“Hey there, brother.” He greeted. “You can put the blaster away.”

“What⏤” Din began to ask, but then his eyes landed on you. Your head rested against Vanth’s thigh and he had one hand resting on your shoulder. Part of your face looked bruised and even from this distance he could see your busted lip.

“Smugglers got the jump on y’all. Hit you with a spice bomb.” Din holstered his blaster and cursed. Dank farrik. Whispers of his dream world lingered in his mind and Din had to shake his head to try and rid himself of the way your lips felt against his skin. “You’re lucky.”

“This is lucky?” Din asked dryly. Maker, his body ached.

“Little lady here broke free of the spice dream.” Vanth said. Din’s eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t know what he wanted to know more⏤ what your perfect world had looked like or how you had broken out of it. Vanth’s hand was tracing shapes on your shoulder as you slept and Din frowned at the touch. Coming from an imaginary world where he was fucking you, his wife, to reality where you were sleeping against another man was jarring. “You got stuck in it. Tell me, Mando, what was your perfect world?”

You were. You were his perfect world.

But, Din couldn’t bring himself to admit that in his current reality.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #cobb vanth #din djarin smut #a smidge of angst #idiots in love #pining

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leviiattacks · 3 years

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May I request a Levi x Reader angst fic? Just barely any fluff, mostly angst going on lol. The reader is a traitor, formaly working for Marley, but betraying them in secret and putting their loyalty on Paradis. The reader is also a shifter and married to Levi for a couple of years. That love and care however is gone once readers identity is found. He truly despises them, insults them, maybe a bit violent with them, and outright tells them that they mean nothing to him anymore and hate them to bits. Readers punishment is to hand over her titan to Erwin, and they agree instantly, broken over everything, believing its all their fault. Once Erwin inherits Readers titan, he breaks down and screams, crying, because Reader was innocent the whole time. They never betrayed Paradis. Never killed anyone, never harmed anyone. They finaly know why they betrayed Marley, the abuse being to much for them, enough to just leave them behind for Paradis. Just... loving and caring as they all saw them. But now the damage is done. They wont come back, they're dead, believing that they died, hated and despised, with no one to mourn their death. Everyone regrets everything.

author note :: i was thinking of leaving this in my drafts but i already wrote it and may as well post it. it didn’t end up going the way i hoped but yeah i hope it’s ok anon. anyways ANGST. ANGST, ANGST. as always i love feed back :-) ⟹ all of the headings with the years are just meant to mean it’s a different moment from that year so those moments don’t happen right after each other i hope that makes sense!! word count :: 7.2k warnings :: canon typical violence, death

845, i.

Everything is falling in place when it shouldn't.

Sun never makes itself known in Liberio yet here it is shining down onto the bustling streets. You half expect for it to crash down and burn into the hundreds of civilians going about their daily business yet nothing of the sort happens. It's typical sunlight and you curse yourself silently for your sinister thoughts.

Secretly the voice at the back of your mind still whispers frantically but you don't wish to hear what it has to say. Instead you choose to drown it out with the sound of Zeke's voice. Finally deciding to pay attention to what it is he's been droning on about for the past ten minutes.

"Soon, soon, soon." He sighs dreamily looking a little delirious.

"Soon?"

Your question catches him off guard, he lightly shoves you with his elbow scoffing in annoyance.

"Did you sit here to not even listen to me?" He turns to take a sip of whisky and the hearty gulp he chugs shows his mild irritation. You assume he's been rambling on about Marley's plan to infiltrate Paradis. You have to admit that the idea of destroying those demons from the inside is amazingly well thought out. However it's all he's been able to discuss for the entire week now and frankly you're getting a little exhausted of it.

"I zoned out..." Quietly placing your glass back down onto the wooden counter you sigh closing your eyes. It's too early to be drinking and you don't trust Zeke enough to slip into ignorance and leave yourself vulnerable. Men are to not be trusted, especially Eldian men. The thought of Eldians triggers your flight of fight response, you want to shrivel up into a cocoon and never come out until the world is rid of the monsters. The lowest of the low, the dirt in between the crevices of Marleyan soldier's boots. That is what Eldian's are.

It's ironic coming from you, your entire family labelled as undesirable Eldians yourself but you, you know you're different. An honorary Marleyan is what you will become. What you are. The treacherous imps who are but an ocean away are the true evil.

Eyes flicking to Zeke he's lighting a cigar. Old habits die hard and he's yet to quit this self destructive custom of his. You couldn't care less if he chooses to cut his lifespan short by ten years, it's his own choice to make. A disgusting cowardly choice but it's a choice fit for an untamed man like him.

The Island Devils are said to be the bad apples but you can't help but stare at your fellow citizens from time to time and wonder what it is they could be hiding. If a demon slipped through the cracks you wouldn't be surprised. Sly in nature, persuasive in tone, that is how devils go about their daily lives alone The hymns they drilled into you all the way through elementary school echo and rebound in your mind.

Locking your bitter thoughts away you have to push yourself to not punt Zeke in the mouth when he teasingly blows a puff of hot smoke into your face.

Fingertips grazing with his he freezes at the sudden contact giving you the perfect opportunity to slip his cigar away and take it in between your lips. You allow for it to linger there but you aren't foolish enough to inhale its contents.

"Zeke, my dear friend. We shall soon be met with the fruits of our own labour but I assure you that discussing Marley's plan constantly will be of no benefit for you nor I."

The day you and Zeke had met had been at warrior training camp. Zeke was a miserable, unmotivated oaf. Always tripping and falling behind the rest of the warrior cadets. You felt rather bad for him, if you were born as unskilled as him you don't know what you would have made of yourself. Zeke, the only child of his parents ironically only ever ended up rising through the ranks after handing them over to the Marleyan government. His father and mother had been conspiring an escape plan but were executed immediately alongside their fellow team members once Zeke had outted them. Unexpectedly he was spared, the fact he turned on his own parents showed where his loyalties were. To his surprise, he was even allowed to continue his training with the other warriors - only this time everyone kept an increased distance away from him. The warriors weren't informed of what he had actually done but everyone had a gut feeling. Everyone apart from you stuck with that feeling. You thought strategically, If he were to become an enemy in the future you knew being close would come at your advantage.

The day you and Zeke had met your mother died, his mother passed away the same day. At least that's what he had told you.

The two of you bonded over the little things, told each other stories about your life at home. Reminisced about what it was you missed.

Then it all came crashing down the day Zeke confessed. The day he told you he killed his mother and father by handing them over to Marley. Your knees buckled underneath you, crashing the floor he tried to grab at you but you thrashed around in retaliation kicking and screaming not understanding why he did what he did. Yes, they were traitors but they were his parents and if the monster had the nerve to turn on the people who gave birth to him who's to say he wouldn't do the same to you or to Marley.

Zeke doesn't know it but ever since then you take the opportunity to sneak the occasional glance at him. Every single time you narrow your eyes in malice. If there's a man in Liberio who you don't trust in the slightest it's him, he must think the feud between the two of you from childhood has been put at rest but it hasn't.

Zeke takes another swig of his alcohol. On this occasion he downs it entirely slamming the glass down with vigour.

"ONE MORE GLASS BARTENDER!"

846, i.

Another day of extensive training is about to end, your back is layered in uncomfortable layers of sweat and the same can be said for your forehead. Kneeling down in the under layer of the forest you're hidden waiting to strike. Going up against the elites is nerve-wracking but you're sure you can pull it off so long as you stay calm during this game of hunters against prey.

It's simple enough if you can conceal yourself and stay out of sight. The robust trees that surround you act as decent enough camouflage and your green cape paired with them lets you veil yourself, keeping you further into the foreground, blending into the environment.

No one will be able to catch you if they can't see you.

All of a sudden your previous thoughts are thrown away when you sense something in the atmosphere has changed, the hissing of the wind behind you isn't natural.

Turning to your side you don't bother to cover up the sound of leaves rustling and branches cracking, your priority is slipping away fast enough to hide again, a tug can be felt at your cloak and your reaction time barely covers for you, your gear fastens itself to a low enough tree branch and the descent is mind numbing. Your breakfast churns in your stomach but you ignore the uneasy feeling, leaping and diving wherever you find a small enough gap. You believe you can outrun your huntsman.

That is until you sneak a glance back and your muscles nearly tense up in pure astonishment, you've been kicked in the teeth just by the man's presence. Captain, Levi slinks behind you weaving through the gaps with increasing speed, he's gaining momentum and all the while his face stays relaxed, this isn't even his full effort.

Terrified you dart upwards and then left, a corner comes into view - Levi should assume you've turned into it and so you rashly choose to dart back down. Much to your hard luck you find that his senses are well adapted, the direction of the wind is enough for him to trace your whereabouts.

The pursuit resumes, and he stays disturbingly relentless.

Arm shooting to the right you think perhaps making it look like you're aiming to fly somewhere else again will completely catch him off guard, he can't expect for you to pull the same trick twice.

Setting your plan into motion your finger pulls at the trigger but you startle when the cable doesn't come out, it's jammed. Panic seeps into you and to make matters worse your gas is running out.

Without warning you're thrust into the body of a nearby tree, the bark scrapes against you and scratches begin to form anywhere you've made contact with the jagged surface, you want to admit defeat but the warrior inside of you denies Levi the pleasure of seeing you beg. In its place you deliver a harsh kick to his thigh, you're aware he's injured it and you're certain there are no rules to say you can't play dirty. Your boots hammer against leg hard enough for him to give out and let go of your body, but then you realize you lost this game from the very moment your grapple hooks broke, you have nowhere to hold onto.

Before you can even let out a shriek of horror Levi's shot back to you, he frantically accelerates and by a miracle humanity's strongest is able to grab a hold of you again. This time you don't dig your heels into his leg and you allow for him to clutch you by the torso.

Within a minute the two of you descend towards the forest floor and Levi throws you into the dirt furiously.

"You could have died. Being foolhardy will only lead to an early death." He barks as he directs his blade towards your neck.

"Am I dead yet?" Whispering back your gaze isn't trained on the blade but right up at him.

His nostrils flare up, his hair sticks to his forehead haphazardly and the knuckles that hold his pointed blades are white in tangled dissatisfaction.

Grabbing you by the hips he flings you over his shoulder choosing to not continue with the confrontation.

"I know what you're up to." His voice is still rugged from the pursuit and it takes you a split second to register what he's said.

Your eyes widen and your breath hitches in your throat, no way, there's no way in hell he knows. He's sharp but he's not a mind reader.

Your position means he can't read your face seeing as you're facing his back, instantly steeling your features you let out a breathy laugh.

"And what may that be?" Silently you pray he's worded himself ambiguously to catch a slip up.

"Being gutsy, you think that makes you a good soldier. It doesn't."

Relief floods you. He doesn't know.

"Soldiers need to be brave." Your retort makes him grumble.

"If you die with no meaning by being reckless what's the purpose of being a soldier?" His question has you stopping and thinking on what the correct answer is.

Unable to think of an answer you ask another question.

"Are you saying your previous comrades died without meaning?"

"No. Their deaths fueled me slay more titans."

"So if I died back there who wou-" He swiftly cuts you off showing no inclination of wanting to hear what it is you have to say.

"I'll cut your tongue off if it's stupid." He clearly isn't serious about the threat but he does mean it when he warns you to not overstep.

Despite the consequences you say what's on your mind. "I just wanted to ask who would give my life meaning if I ever died. I don't have siblings and my parents died long ago."

Silence follows and the crunch of his boots against the muddy leaves tells you he probably doesn't wish to answer your question.

"Sorry-"

"I would. I would give meaning to your life." He says it with such ease you almost want to admire the enemy but you know he's said it because he feels he has to.

"You barely know me but I hope one day you can stop thinking everyone has to rely on you." You say it with taunting understanding.

Another bout of silence follows. Only this time the two of you feel warmly comforted, he doesn't understand how you've seen through his facade but it's easy for you to spot another liar.

846, ii.

Brows drawn back you observe your surroundings attempting to mask your scrutiny. The place is running amok with uncontrollable Eldian folk. The stench of unadulterated sin makes itself known but you seem to be the only person able to smell it. Eren bumps against the table you're sat at and your face twitches a little but you say nothing. You're yet to get used to these people's lack of manners.

At least that's how you force yourself to think. To be truthful, you don't quite understand what it is these people have done wrong. Ever since you've arrived you've been nitpicking at every single minor inconvenience or possible issue. A girl stole a potato and broke it into uneven pieces to share and you attempted to twist the story in your head to make her look like an unfair, greedy voracious demon but... you found yourself finding very little to actually be angry at. These people are essentially normal in every way of the word, they aren't demons and you can't help but feel yourself slip away from everything you once knew as reality. You're finding it difficult to believe what years of Marleyan education taught you, the hymns that were once drilled into your brain permanently are but a vague memory.

You feel disgustingly under-dressed and out of place, you don't belong here not when you're meant to hate these people, not when you're meant to despise them. You should be fighting the urge to shove their heads onto pitchforks or to skin them alive and feed them to pigs. Everyone back in Marley told you to control your impulses but now you're here and you've settled down even having the opportunity to converse with these individuals, share their pain, share their loss, share their suffering, you wonder why you have no impulses to control. Have they brainwashed you? Or is it that you're the real demon in this situation?

Fingers mingling with each other on your lap you sit hopelessly alone. Interacting with the so called enemy is much harder than you expect. Worry consistently bubbles in the pit of your stomach and every night is spent tossing and turning evaluating then reevaluating who the bad guy really is. At first the task of daily interaction isn't a big deal, you find it easy enough to approach members of the team and fake interest in their lives until the original plan falls through. You do become invested in your team members lives and stories that it comes to the point where you don't have to force yourself to smile at their jokes or to sympathize with their tales of grief. You become one of them and you swear you're meant to feel like a traitor but eerily you feel like you belong.

Nevertheless you try your best to stick with what you know. You're nothing like Zeke, you're loyal, capable, faithful and trustworthy. Never will you turn your back on Marley.

Rising to excuse yourself from dinner you think you've just about made it and escaped finally able to hide away in the confines of your bedroom but your lips form into a straight uncomfortable line at the feeling of someone's hand latching at your wrist. You're halfway down the hallway just a few more steps away from your bedroom. You hope it's one of the rookies.

"Oi, come here."

Head shooting backwards your eyes land on Levi, his dark curtains fall in front of his eyes - you note that he hasn't trimmed them as he usually does. Despite his size his grip is firm and your wrist squirms around a little trying to manoeuvre out of his bruising grasp. He seems to notice he's underestimated his strength once again and loosens his hold on you. Narrowed eyes analyse your anxious form, they're grey and in this lighting almost glow appearing silver. For a brief second your mouth is left ajar by the delicate but rough manner of his face.

"Everything Okay?" He doesn't typically seem to care very much about anyone, the question activates your senses and you're on full alert but the eye contact you make with him seconds later slows down the gears in your mind, they only whir and hum in anticipation completely coming to a halt.

"Yes, yes everything is okay." You're playing around with the hem of your shirt and you silently question when you were ever this nervous around anyone. You're a Marleyan soldier for heaven's sake not an unrestrained, unsupervised child left to play in a park.

Despite your clear inability to cushion and shield yourself from your Levi's stabbing gaze you attempt to appear as nonchalant as possible.

"I'll be going I just feel a little —" At first you had thought to fake you were ill but at the feeling of a sudden strike of pain you hold onto your stomach, the ache burns into your abdomen and without permission it travels higher up towards your ribs. "A little unwell." You manage to wheeze out. Hand placed onto a nearby cement wall your thought process is hasty speeding up by the second. Have they figured you out and had you poisoned? No, you barely ate anything today.

You hunch over feeling the bile crawl up your throat, on reflex you clamp your eyes shut not wishing to anger a superior by acting insolent and disposing of your dinner in the hallway. Shaky palms reach hesitantly for your lips and you force yourself to keep it in. Levi would commit a murder if you heaved and gagged letting it all out in front of him.

You motion towards the door trying to emphasize that you can handle yourself in the privacy of your room. Tears bite at the sides of your eyes and your vision is so blurred you can only make out the faint outline of the man who was just in front of you.

"Relax. I'll clean it." Your hair is brushed away from your face securely held back and you can't hold it in any longer, the acrid storm surges through your throat, you retch at the harsh sting it leaves behind. Breathing heavy, perturbed and anxious you gasp in all the air you can get.

"I knew you looked ill." His hands hold your jaw gently, the pads of his fingers are calloused but his touch remains soft. A tissue dabs at your mouth wiping away the excess untouched sick.

Just like the sick which surged through you less than a minute ago you feel something else entirely tear into you. You can't put a finger on it but it's dangerous for you to not feel contempt.

847, i.

Your heart accepts what your mind has been ignoring for months on end when Levi looks you square in the eyes after a heart wrenching expedition. The vacant look on his face is enough for the guilt to consume you whole but he doesn't know that. He doesn't know of your sins.

The wagon of corpses reeks of death and desperation. It's rotten and the smell is sickening. Forcibly you stop yourself from feeling any more grief. The despair isn't yours to go through.

Your first ever personal loss outside of the walls and you've learnt Paradis is not home to demons. Cheeks burning in mortification you can't formulate any thoughts on your own accord, instead they continuously emerge in bursts and finally a single thought sticks out from the rest - Are you aiding in the destruction of innocent human life?

The both of you are sat on guard duty with the corpses, half of the team has been wiped out in one sweep. Your trembling hands don't seem to want to steady any time soon and you sit there with your guilty conscience strangling you slowly, your airflow is getting shallower. Shorter, quicker breaths leave you. The imaginary gash in your chest is bottomless, and your lungs push and pull in a power struggle.

Levi's coarse hands abruptly hold onto yours and the floodgates open again, he doesn't know what you've done to him, done to his soldiers, done to his people. If he knew who you really were, would things be different?

"This was out of your control."

Do you tell him?

The question sits in your mind for a while until you shake your head. He takes it the wrong way and think you're responding to him.

"This was not your fault." For the first time in months you've heard his voice crack under pressure.

"Pe- Petra she- I could have taken one for the team and died instead of her." All that remains of your dear friend is her blood soaked cloak. Her body was one of the few that had to be hauled away earlier to decrease the carriage's load.

The fabric still smells of Petra, smells of honey and chamomile and the simple soap offered at the base, but it still smells of her.

Firm hands grab your shoulders and Levi's fingers dig sorely into your flesh.

"Don't."

"But I- I didn't contribute as much as her and she has family who are alive." Hiccuping you try to bare with the fact that you'll wake up tomorrow and not see her preparing breakfast for everyone else. You know you could have propelled her out of the way just in time if you hadn't been so taken aback by the entire situation.

"You were her comrade. She made the choice to die for you."

You want to reach out, sob into his chest and yell that you regret it all, scream and tell him about the secret you've been hiding. A sorry excuse of a comrade you are to let her die on the battlefield not knowing your true identity. The tears roll down your cheeks and Levi feels his heart constrict and squeeze as he comprehends the lack of regard you have for your life. "It should have been me." Is repeated over and over again, your eyes are raw and bloodshot, the vicious wind sinks its teeth into you.

"Then die."

"If you're willing for her life to have no meaning. Die." The words he spits out are as cutting as the bitter wind. He feels cheated and you're finally able to come to your senses.

He's faired much worse but you doubt he's ever acted out the way you have in front of another person. In this never-ending void of darkness locking away the dull ache caused by deafening loss is the best choice for everyone.

Much like the night you had been sick he takes a grip of your jaw and directs your face towards his, this time he's not as gentle as before but you conclude that it's because he's drained, completely exhausted from the battle. The eyes are the windows to the soul but Levi's window panes are shattered, completely crushed by the weight of the constant burden he has to carry.

"I'm sorry." You croak out the apology. He grits his teeth because he doesn't want you to apologize but he doesn't voice out his opinion. As a substitute he presses his arms against you, the terribly raw panic is murdering you. Levi's gruff voice is a mixture of faux irritation but mutual understanding.

"Cry." He allows for your head to loll against his shoulder.

As the dark envelopes both you and him the scent of the dead only becomes more and more pungent, recalling fond memories of Petra and the others you know your heart settles on a decision before your mind does. You're a two timing back stabbing traitor for this. What you hated Zeke for you have become yourself.

Disloyal, unfaithful and fickle.

That day you place your loyalties with Paradis.

847, ii.

Levi's wiping down one of the kitchen tables, you're kneeled on the floor scrubbing vigorously. The others have already given up, panting they've left using the excuse of fetching water from a nearby well. Your back aches but you find cleaning reassuring and somewhat of a decent distraction.

"Why do you like to clean?" You're used to Levi asking you abrupt questions by now, after all the two of you have been acquainted for well over a year now. Through that year he's learnt about you and you about him. When in the midst of what looks to be humanity's final year's, twelve simple months is enough to form a bond worth a decade.

"I'm not good at a lot but I am good at cleaning."

"You know that's not true idiot." The tone of his voice indicates that your answer doesn't please him.

"But I do think I'm good at cleaning? Maybe not as good as you but I am half decent."

"Not that. You're good at much more than half the people I've ever met." He sneers, his footsteps edge towards you. "Purely being a good person is a talent these days."

You suppress a flinch because you aren't a good person at all. Neither are you that middle ground between good and bad. Rough around the edges and uneven, you're shards of glass ready to slash and hack away at him if Marley somehow lures you back.

The confession, if you could even call it that catches you by surprise and anger fills you. You almost want for him to not trust you and call out your bluff. It's a little unnatural how badly you want for him to realize the truth.

Your head turns up to stare at the man who's a few steps away from you. "Or am I just good at acting genuine?"

You don't even mean to snap at him and you don't even realize you have until you see his eyes widen and mouth part in imperceptible surprise. Biting your tongue your attention is diverted back to the wooden floor. Driving your washcloth into the crevices and dips of the floorboards you ignore Levi's leather shoes which now stand right in front of you.

"Are you questioning my judgement of character?"

Be born in Marley, That's what you had done, trained to destroy people you thought to be devilish entities, foolishly chose to grow attached to the so called enemy. Your mind lingers onto a specific thought and you're deathly afraid to be thinking it in the first place but there's no more avoiding it.

Falling deeply in love with Levi is your worst mistake to date.

"What I did. It was out of my control." you reply, voice hard.

"Not disclosing what it was?" He asks.

Your silence is his answer. Kneeling down to where you are he disarms you, the washcloth is taken out of your hands and he places it onto a table.

"You are a good person." His voice is brusque and he states it like it's a fact, something you should know. Hot tears threaten to spill over, he's stupidly naive for not rethinking that opinion of his. Lips thinned and eyes watering you don't know how to feel.

"Levi. I'm sure you'd like to think that but I am not."

"You love the members of the corps unconditionally I can see it in the way you look at them."

"Sometimes you look a little sad when you stare." The last sentence he adds in has your pulse racing. He's right, you often feel miserable thinking about how everyone would react knowing who you really are.

"I'm not interested in bad people." He sounds distant saying such warm words and it takes a moment for them to actually sink in. You don't quite believe you've heard him correctly. The dread sinks to the bottom of your stomach and the feelings you've buried at the back of your mind hit you like a tsunami. The thought of him feeling the same way for you, is agonizing.

"Stop being ridiculous." The uncertainty is killing the both of you.

"Loving you is not ridiculous, if you don't feel the same way you can say that and I'll step away. We'll be back to normal."

"No, no, no. You don't get it. You're just saying that." Your voice quivers and the intensity of this new revelation is too large for you to cope with.

"Why would, you," He begins, voice just above a whisper, "ever think that way?"

"Why would you even look twice at me?" You reply.

"Because I worry for you."

"You worry for everyone."

"I worry for you the most."

Instead of letting you respond to him this time he carries on speaking.

"We both know we feel the same."

You already knew you were in love with Levi, you didn’t need for him to tell you. You knew you were in love when you tried to memorize his facial features, you knew you were in love when his laughter was the cause of your laughter, you knew you were in love when you threw yourself in front of that abnormal for him.

That's when you begin to understand what all his signals meant. You now knew why he'd let you stare so intently, you now knew why he laughed particularly hard when it was you who had made a joke, you now knew why he scolded you and nearly broke down at the sight of your injured arm after that specific expedition.

You know it. He knows it. You both know what this will lead to.

But you still lunge onto his lap, you still press your wobbly lips against his. You still choose to surrender yourself to him and he still reacts by taking a hold of your shaky hands which lay on his chest. He envelopes them in his warm grasp. Slowly but gradually the ice thaws and dissolves. Heartbreak, anguish and suffering when one of you loses the other will be the end of your romance, you're sure of it. Hell, the both of you are in the middle of a war but your heart flames up thinking of all of the possibilities.

Perhaps it'll play out the one way you wish for it not to.

Could your ending be in betrayal?

848, i.

"Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded hus-"

"Cut the crap and kiss me." Levi's crude interruption isn't appreciated by Erwin but everyone knows Levi doesn't care all that much for formalities and hates being in the spotlight for too long.

Gripping him by the collar of his suit your lips are a centimetre away, he stops you tightening the hold he has on your waist. His lips gently press against your collarbone and his breath meanders towards the shell of your ear.

"Swear you won't die on me."

Gulping you look away apprehensively. You know you can't promise that.

“Oi, I’m expecting an answer.” His voice flickers slightly.

Forefinger holding your chin up you see your soon to be husband close to tears, he valiantly blinks them away. Levi has never been one to make his pain public and your heart twists in your chest as you realize just how much of a hold his feelings for you have over him.

"I can't promise that, you know it'll only hurt more." The strange bitter taste in your mouth won't let you comply with his request and by measuring his reaction you see his eyes cloud in an unidentifiable emotion, you're sure it's nothing positive.

"We may not have a happy ending Levi but we'll always have a happy middle."

Levi scoffs in derision, he has to think your attempt at being meaningful is ridiculous.

You lean into him and it's all so heart-wrenchingly familiar yet foreign. His body sags comprehending that not everything will go the way he wants it to. One of you is guaranteed to leave first.

Hands finding purchase in the cloth of his white dress shirt Levi doesn't cringe at you creasing the fabric as he usually does. He allows for you to call the shots this time, your lips brush faintly against his before you nosedive into him. No resistance is felt and he replies almost immediately. Everyone applauds as his fingertips press into the back of your skull and you find that this is all incredibly hideous. The innate disloyalty you feel, you throwing your entire life away for this man but you find yourself not caring. To hell with that miserable life crammed with sin.

Levi smiles against your mouth, you assume you're meant to magically smile back but you can't make yourself. It's uncomfortable relishing in the undeserved happiness knowing it won't last forever.

The world you live in isn't ideal nor is it forgiving.

Momentary joy is all an antagonist can hope for.

849, i.

Jean can’t take his eyes off the newly weds.

You’re cooing into your Levi’s ear gently, his cheeks flush scarlet at the feeling of your hot breath against his skin and he scolds you for having the gall to rile him up in public.

Jean sniggers finding some sort of odd delight from the interaction - he’s never seen the Captain this content and at ease.

849, ii.

You don't know why you've dragged yourself out of bed just to stare at your husband's face but you have, despite the toll life has had on him he seems sound for once. His breathing peaceful yours is anything but that. When it's dark the weight becomes heavier, your skin tingles and your throat burns aching for release.

Eyes blurring your hands shake reaching out for him but you can't find the courage to make contact. Nothing will ever warrant plaguing him even more with your existence.

The memories become increasingly bitter.

"If we make it out of this alive we'll have children and they'll look just like you."

"I want them to look like you." had been your reply.

Levi winced not seeming to like the idea.

"No, I want them to look like you. You're beautiful."

How wrong he was for thinking that.

You, beautiful? He'd stab himself ten times over if he knew just who exactly he had said those words to.

850, i.

Zeke had betrayed you after finding out who you were to Levi but you half expected that he would tell him the truth at some point regardless of that fact.

Tear stains travel through the mud and grime on your face, Levi's eyes are indifferent as he twists his wedding ring off his finger flinging it into the surrounding rubble.

Without your permission he yanks your arm forwards intending to take your matching ring away but you hold on digging your heels into the dirt beneath you.

"You disgusting bitch. Give me it."

You scream, high and awful, he continues jerking at your arm the muscle throbs crying out for him to stop but he doesn't and no one steps in to put a halt to any of it. Levi having had enough grabs at your neck ruthlessly. In any other circumstance he'd be labelled callous or cruel but everyone on the battle field shares a similar empathy for their Captain. Neither they or Levi had expected your disloyalty.

"I said give me the ring if you know what's good for you." His fingers slide around your neck, his seemingly low words cling onto the little respect he has left for you.

"No." Your defiance has his eyes hardening in and posture tensing. "I'm not handing it over."

Levi says nothing, he only holds onto your throat tighter, if he really keeps at it your windpipe will be crushed in no time. You know he's holding out on purpose, he's still giving you a chance. He expects for you to stand your ground, say you never deceived Paradis, say something, anything to make him let go of you.

"Marrying you... It just happened somehow. I know it was selfish of me." He squeezes harder. "I know it was. I'm sorry Levi." Gasping and breathless you clench and unclench your fists finding it too difficult to explain.

Your mouth opens, you want to tell him you haven't seduced him like he thinks you have, tell him you dropped that plan of yours long ago but then you falter at the last second. It's typically hard to tell when Erwin's infuriated but it's painfully obvious when you make eye contact with him over Levi's trembling shoulders. It's enough to tell you to give up. Enough to tell you that you're beyond redemption, you've ran and hid long enough.

"Hand over your titan." Levi says nothing to Erwin's proposition, the hold he has on your neck loosens but his silence is sickening. It means he agrees.

This is fate's idea of a cruel joke.

But you agree, on the basis of one condition.

"Fine but-"

Levi cuts in, all regard for you devoid from his system.

"You're in no place to be making demands." He snarls, his patience quickly running thin.

However Erwin urges you to continue speaking taking you aback.

"If it's not too much maybe we can accommodate your final wish." Erwin had always been thoughtful in nature and you thank him for even bothering to show you a sliver of benevolence.

Everyone's looking, all eyes are on you. Some are blinking away tears, others are disgusted unable to stare at you for more than a few seconds at a time. Levi falls into the latter.

Brazen with not an ounce of shame you mention the ring again. "Let me keep it." Your left hand covers your right and underneath the flesh is the last symbol left of your union with Levi.

Whispers and murmurs orbit you, none of them are kind and Levi loses it.

His reflexes are paralyzing, he's back at it clawing your neck mercilessly but you don't scream or shriek as you did previously. You take it, you let him unload his frustration.

"Levi. Let it go for the sake of humanity." Erwin says pointedly. Irritation pricks him, he wants this over and done with and your rebelliousness doesn't look as if it'll be tamed any time soon unless you're given what you want.

Levi's face is crimson, the fresh blood from the expedition still steaming. "Y/N, I'll saw your arm off if I have to." But, you know he's already given into Erwin's orders when he throws you to the ground letting you crash and wheeze for breath.

850, ii.

Levi's been appointed to guard you for your final night alive. The room feels wistful as you think back wondering if the life you lived was respectable.

"Why did you stare at me when I slept? Did you think of killing me?" Half commanding and half pleading his voice cracks. He coughs attempting to cover it up.

You jolt not expecting the interaction at all and you're not the slightest bit surprised that he had seen you all those nights staring so deeply. He'd always been a light sleeper. You turn your head up hoping he's looking at you.

He isn't.

"I wanted our children to look like you. I think you're beautiful."

It's now his turn to recoil, only he does so in repulsion remembering the familiarity of those words. They had left his own lips not too long ago.

"I'd never have children with the likes of you." He sounds tense then.

You understand. No one would want to have children with someone as hated and as despicable as you.

"I know." You whisper faintly.

850, iii.

When Erwin's eyes glaze over unable to focus on anything in particular Levi assumes it's him growing used to the titan powers. What he doesn't expect is for his Commander to bang his head against the floor unrelenting screaming your name.

Pairs of hands move to stop him but he thrusts them aside wailing. Levi stresses trying to figure out what it is you could have done in the wake of your death.

But Erwin Smith. Courageous, brave Erwin Smith, who never cracked at loss of life for the sake of humanity, who always eloquently spoke to everyone around him at all times, finds himself slumping down to his knees and weeping for you.

The warm blood from his self inflicted assault still trickles down his nose, a tremor shakes through his entire body when he thinks of breaking the news to Levi.

The edge in Erwin’s voice grows dangerous.

"We made the wrong choice."

Erwin can't word it any better than that.

But Levi understands right away, he wishes he didn’t, he wishes he was ignorant enough not to.

Hange sticks an arm out aiming for his shoulder but he stumbles away nearly falling back into the floor not wanting to be touched by anyone.

He finds that he is not human enough to cry. It’s that or he’s not human at all without your presence.

854, i.

Levi has grown old without you, lived to see months and new seasons without you by his side. Over time his eyelids have become heavier, the corners of his mouth naturally droop and he remains perpetually somber.

Sometimes you visit him in his dreams, each time you make a silly comment about how his grey eye bags make him look like he’s been punched in the face. “Levi Ackerman, I swear if you don’t sleep soon!” You cushion the blow by whispering sweet nothings, reassuring him that you still think he’s beautiful.

Occasionally you add in that you don’t blame him for the past, but those conversations only last for a few seconds at a time.

“I don’t blame you.” It always starts off with the exact same phrase.

“I should have listened to you.” Levi’s tone is stern and uncompromising .

“Lev, I was never going to tell you to spare my life. You tried to listen to me, I could tell you wanted me to deny it.”

Levi refuses to answer you, he still thinks he’s at fault.

Not a day goes by where he doesn’t think of that ring. He regrets throwing it away recklessly into the rubble.

Some day he’ll return to Shiganshina to find it. The idea sounds laughable but he has to find a reason to smile as he fights for his life.

That is what Levi thinks as two set’s of jaws snap shut onto his legs, a flurry of red surrounds him. His throat constricts at the feeling of his thighs being ripped away from the rest of him.

“I tried.” He whimpers to no one in particular, eyes blank and losing meaning.

“I know Levi, I know.” The same voice from his dreams soothes him.

“Do not despair. Find me again in another world.” The biting wind adds in.

Levi’s eyelids flutter shut unable to do much else.

He’s unsure if he has the courage to face you again in another lifetime.

2K notes · View notes

ahtsumu · 4 years

Text

目送 ; oikawa tooru

「alt. title: five times oikawa didn’t look back and the one time he did」

↳ pairing: oikawa tooru x f!reader

↳ synopsis: you spend a lifetime watching him go, sometimes with your stomach tied in knots, sometimes with tears in your eyes, but always with love.

↳ genre(s): angst, fluff, basically an emotional rollercoaster, non-linear storyline

↳ warning(s): profanity, depiction of a panic attack, suggestive themes

↳ length: 5.4k words

↳ a/n: hq fam how we doing after 402 ?? LOL anyway this is my birthday gift to oikawa tooru: my sun, moon, and stars, second to none, yadda yadda. the title is taken from a book with the same name, in case you were wondering. please pay attention to the roman numerals ahead of each section!! enjoy!

“This is the last call for Japan Airlines flight 717 to Buenos Aires, now boarding at gate number twelve. This is the last call…”

Goodbyes are hard when you know they’re forever. Or at least a while.

The clamour of Haneda airport dims to a faint buzz as the two of you continue standing with touching shoulders–– facing the jetliner instead of each other–– in futile hopes of delaying the inevitable.

Oikawa knows that you’re holding in your tears by the light tremors running through your body. Permitting himself to steal a look at your side profile, he notices the familiar tensing of your jaw and hard-set look in your red-rimmed eyes.

Tch. You said you wouldn’t cry.

Impulsively, he unzips his backpack and pulls out a familiar turquoise banner. It feels like just yesterday the team handed him the silk fabric with everyone’s farewell gifts wrapped inside.

Out-of-sequence memories of the Spring High qualifiers flash through your mind. The orange-haired Karasuno player’s spike ricochets off Oikawa’s forearms. The numbers on both sides of the scoreboard slowly inch up like they’re taking turns. Oikawa’s white knuckles against the metal basin. Red eyes. Heaving chest. Something soft against your skin. Rule the Court.

And just like the last time, he gently drapes it over your shoulders, brushing his fingers against your neck as he does so. God, how he wants to kiss you.

“But it’s yours,” you protest weakly, making no move to give it back.

“It won’t be for a while.” His voice cracks when he speaks. But it will be mine again when I come back for it.

He wants to kiss you. One last time.

He wants your mouth against his like absolution to a sinner because he knows that what he’s done to you, what he’s doing to you right now, is comparable to desecration. But he remembers the look on your face that night he broke the news to you. How your megawatt grin caved into a wince when the length of his contract with Club Athletico San Juan finally registered in your mind.

You swallow your feelings of betrayal. You knew what you were getting yourself into.

“Five years is an awfully long time to be apart,” you say after a while.

Oikawa bites his lip. He doesn’t have the heart to say that five was just the starting number. If he does well there, he’ll probably stay longer. He’ll probably do well there. “You don’t have to wait for me.”

Seconds drag into minutes. The cavity in his stomach festers as he waits for your response, but he has a feeling that he already knows your answer.

So instead, all he can do when your floodgates finally burst open is cup your face in his calloused palms and wipe away some of your tears before offering you his own watery smile.

Through your blurred vision, you watch as the boy in front of you steels his resolve and disappears from your life through the jet bridge, ignoring his heart as it begs for one last look over his shoulder.

Oikawa nods numbly when the old man sitting beside him asks if he’s leaving home for the first time. Home, he realises, isn’t anywhere with walls, isn’t an address, isn’t even a person. When someone says they want to go home, it’s not a space that they yearn for, but rather, a time.

He watches Japan grow smaller through the window and feels himself yearn for the time he still had your heart in his hands. It felt like he was holding the sun.

You wouldn’t consider July 21st to be a special day. Nothing special happened earlier that morning when you woke up without your usual alarm. Nothing special happened when your friends texted you four simple words–– come to Azukihana beach!–– during breakfast. But (and this will come to you much, much later) something special happened when said friends left you to guard their things as they dashed to the supermarket for more snacks.

For now, it’s just July 21st, and you’re lying with your back against a towel on the first day of summer break, soaking in the sun, peacefully flipping through a book.

“DON’T FUCKING DO IT, YOU COLOSSAL PIECE OF SHIT!” The familiar voice tears through the beach. Was that Iwaizumi? You set the book down and sit up to check.

And suddenly, the yellow and blue volleyball that had been leisurely rolling your way halts perfectly before your toes. Behind it jogs a shirtless brunet you’ve definitely seen around school.

Oikawa Tooru stops right behind the runaway volleyball and peers at you through half-lidded eyes. “Sorry about that,” he says, flashing you a charming smile.

After casually picking up the ball with one hand, he flexes his abdominal muscles as he straightens back up. Chestnut irises attempt to discreetly sweep over your features but you catch his gaze in the act, quirking an unamused brow. You also catch the intrigued twitch of his lips that follow.

You’re not stupid. Despite having never met him, you know a lot about the Grand King (as many call him). He’s the constant subject of Iwaizumi’s ire and you’ve heard a lifetime’s complaints about him at joint-family luncheons.

But here’s what’s important: you know that he tears himself apart to be the player his team needs him to be, that he sometimes makes Iwaizumi wish he’d passed the Shiratorizawa entrance exam, and that he fiddles with hearts like origami and sets fire to those beautiful fragile trinkets right after.

And in the interest of self-defence (but against what the devil on your shoulder begs), you choose to not place your most prized possession on the table.

A simple “no worries” passes through your lips. You return to your book. A page turns.

Oikawa Tooru is dismissed.

Though your gaze is trained on the page, you can feel his presence at your feet for a few seconds longer. You wonder what his next move is. Much to your surprise, instead of trying to strike up another conversation, he simply lets out an airy hum and strolls back to the sand court where he came from without a second glance.

Iwaizumi wonders why Oikawa is smiling so victoriously after watching the whole ordeal, but your tan family friend has, unlike the calculating Grand King, failed to notice one important detail:

your book is upside down.

And, as if in a trance, your eyes have followed Oikawa all the way back to his sandy kingdom.

Once the sun has set, Iwaizumi checks his phone and notices a text he’d missed in the afternoon. It’s from Y/N. Unease digs itself in his chest when he realises it can’t possibly be for anything except…

hey what was that about?

This can’t be good. Thumbs rapidly typing a response, he races to quash any interest you may have budding in Oikawa. You… you’re good. Nice. Smart enough for UTokyo. A bit naive, but he’s been around your overbearing parents long enough to see it’s not entirely your fault. And even though you run in different circles at school, he feels obligated to protect you from monsters that hide beneath pretty surfaces. He’s known you since the two of you were in diapers.

just trash being what it is

Iwaizumi watches the three grey dots on your side appear, disappear, reappear, and disappear again. And that’s when he realises that he cannot help you. The villain in this arc of your story has already sunken his teeth in your tender, unsullied flesh.

trash?

He sighs.

oikawa

It isn’t a surprise to Iwaizumi when summer break ends and Oikawa’s chestnut eyes start hunting for someone in the cafeteria during lunch. He doesn’t raise a brow when he hears that the second-year captain has been sneaking into Class 7, sometimes with flowers in his hands, and strolling out with a dazed look on his face. He slaps his teammates out of shock when Oikawa mentions his troubles with pursuing some girl–– but not before slapping himself first. Because the Oikawa he knows is not a chaser.

“Her name’s Y/N,” the brunet says, suddenly realising that he has never introduced any of his temporary interests to the team. But it’s been well over two months and he’s starting to think he’s been friend-zoned. Or worse. “I think she hates me.” He laughs melodically, then cocks his head in contemplation. “Is it weird that I kinda like that?”

Iwaizumi hides a satisfied smile behind a sip of water. Oikawa’s revelation has cleared the unease your name brought to his chest. Just a little. Perhaps he’d misread you. You have a bite of your own.

iii.

It’s routine for Oikawa to slink into Class 7 with a dazzling grin during morning break, but he’ll sometimes show up with flowers instead just to remind you that his affections, along with his modus operandi–– haven’t changed since he first started visiting you in September.

The girls in your homeroom have grown used to seeing the six-foot-tall volleyball captain hovering around your desk like a butterfly. Most treat him as part of the scenery nowadays. To them, Oikawa Tooru is no longer the mysterious, out-of-reach deity the rest of the school still paints him to be.

So when he strolls into class on a chilly January afternoon with your name a tune on his lips, they leave him be. Recently, the ladies of Seijoh have focused their attentions on some fellow on the swim team, anyway. Oikawa doesn’t feel as upset as he thinks he should about his shrinking fan club, but when his gaze finds yours already steady, expectant, utterly adoring on him, he understands why.

“For the lady,” he says like he does every time. A cluster of yellow flowers wrapped in brown kraft paper plop onto your desk. He pulls a chair up to your side, purposely ignoring, again, how two certain grooves in the wooden floor keep growing deeper with his visits.

You remember the first time he started bringing you flowers.

A posy of pink flowers sits awkwardly on your desk, untouched.

“I tell you I’d rather take your serve to my face than attend the bunkasai with you and your response is to give me weeds?” you reply with your chin in the palm of your hands, amusement blossoming over your features.

“Stop being a tease, Y/N-chan, they’re flowers,” he huffs, crossing his arms on your desk. “And I know you want to take them. The florist even said I have immaculate taste.”

“Really? Then what do these mean?”

Oikawa falters.

“Hmm?”

“Pink camellias,” he finally says, carefully enunciating the flower's name, “means that you’re a fucking tease. And that you should come to the bunkasai with me.” You snort and tell him to quit volleyball and join comedy club, feeling a strange warmth in your chest when he laughs.

The two of you fall into the same rhythm as always, talking a little bit about this and that, throwing in witty remarks where they belong, never passing up the chance to make fun of each other’s little idiosyncrasies. He’s enraptured by the way you string words together to describe the story behind your class’s bunkasai performance and all the gears in your brain whirr when he explains the strategy he’s using against the team Seijoh’s playing later that day.

When the bell rings, he reluctantly drags his chair back to the desk he stole it from. Just before he slinks back out the door, though, you tell him with a stern gaze that the Ushiwaka from Shiratorizawa he just spent the break shit-talking doesn’t hold a candle to Seijoh’s Grand King.

It’s like you had just stepped under a new light. Oikawa pauses in front of the doorway, trying to decipher what it is that’s different about you. And suddenly, the roses in his cheeks are in full bloom. Delighted and puzzled at his own realisation, he turns around without a second glance your way and strides back to Class 5. Oh, man, he muses as he passes through the emptying corridor. Oh, man. Iwa-chan is going to love this.

Your phone buzzes later that evening.

seijoh v. shiratorizawa 1-2, the text reads, quickly followed by, GAH.

Your lips twitch, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. Tapping your fingers against your phone screen for a response that’ll cheer him up, you suddenly remember a phrase Oikawa said earlier that day. It drew a laugh from you when it came out his contorted face. He was obviously still hung up over with the words of the opposing team’s ace. Hopefully, it makes him feel something else coming from you.

you should’ve come to shiratorizawa, you send, grinning.

His response is immediate.

l m f A O

what flowers would you like at your funeral?

And then you’re reminded of his petalled gift on your desk, now comfortably sitting in a glass vase at your bedside. Pink camellias, he said? Curious, you open your laptop and type in the name for its meaning.

Longing, you remember, watching your boyfriend chatter about something–– probably aliens–– animatedly. The yellow flowers on your desk, you realise, are ones you’ve never seen before.

“Oikawa, what’s the name of these?” you suddenly ask. He stops in the middle of his sentence (he was definitely talking about aliens, by the way), and grins smugly.

“Jonquils,” he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “spelt J-O-N-Q-U-I-L-S, means that your boyfriend’s going to colonise Mars one day. And if you’re lucky, you can be the first queen of Mars. How ‘bout that?”

It doesn’t mean what he says it does, by the way.

ii.

Splashes of pink and orange have already settled into the blue sky above when you step onto the rooftop of Seijoh’s humanities building. Despite the breeze that has swept through the air, the flame of curiosity in your stomach burns just enough for you to turn a cheek to the cold.

Come to the rooftop at 6 PM.

It’s 5:59. Impatient, you study the note in your hand again. Maybe you’ll be able to glean something from the laconic letter this time.

Much to your irritation, no one had seen the author of this note. They had expertly placed the unsigned card on your desk with a single rose and Hershey’s chocolate kiss on top during lunch. Elegantly scrawled, their seven words have had your brain running circles all day around their identity. Could it be…? No–– he seemed completely normal earlier today. Still, you can’t shake your suspicions. They borderline hope.

Who else…

You inhale the cool air deeply and lean back against the rooftop railing, eyes burning a hole into the metal entrance. The door swings open with a high-pitched groan. Your breath catches in your throat.

… if not him?

Time briefly stops when Oikawa Tooru steps through the entrance, still in his volleyball uniform, sweaty from practice, cheeks the same colour as the setting sun. There’s an unusually tentative look on his face, though it’s immediately wiped off and replaced with the realisation that this is real when he sees you slightly slack-jawed, blinking once, twice, three times before letting out a breath.

“You look surprised. Expecting someone else to confess today?” he asks, crossing his arms in front of his uniformed chest. Despite how his features are contorted by his poorly hidden jealousy, you can’t help but feel a flood of blood rush through your veins, lighting every inch of your skin on fire.

Because whether he knows it or not, Oikawa, the Grand King of the Court, prettiest boy in all of Miyagi, has skipped the table and placed his heart straight into your hands.

“Of course not,” you retort. “I just didn’t think you’d… well, do something like this.” And I didn’t want to get my hopes up. Iwaizumi’s words still find their way into your mind sometimes. I didn’t want origami made from my heartstrings.

Oikawa’s demeanour changes and his eyes dart away from your face. Shoving his hands into his windbreaker’s pockets, he admits, “I’ve honestly never done something like this before.” A faint blush spreads across his cheeks.

“Really? You’ve never stepped foot in the fourteenth shrine of Sendai?” you tease, referring to how Seijoh students have claimed this very rooftop as one of the God of Love’s many temples. You both know he holds the school record for the number of visits to this rooftop. At this rate, he could be one of its caretakers.

“That’s not what I meant,” he replies with a scowl, though the awkward tension between you two dissipates. And it feels like the two of you are back at your desk in Class 7, snickering uncontrollably while throwing playful jabs at each other. Sensing the change in atmosphere, Oikawa finally steps forward to join you by the railing.

Humming softly, he rests his elbows on the metal bar, props his head up with his hands, and sets his gaze on the lowering sun.

It’d be unfair to say that you didn’t at least try to enjoy the moment of peace with the boy beside you. But there’s a burning question on your mind that you can’t put off asking any longer.

“Why me?” you finally blurt out. “You could have any girl in this school. What made you choose me?”

The brunet whips his head around, disbelief written all over his face. “You think I chose to chase after the most annoying girl in all of Miyagi?” He laughs. “Ridiculous. I’d never willingly put myself through that unnecessary angst.”

You scoff and cross your arms.

“I think that when you like someone, it’s harder to explain why,” he quickly adds. “‘Cause it’s not supposed to make sense. I bet that the inability to explain your feelings is a prerequisite for true feelings, actually. It’s logical to say that you’d date Person A because they’re smart, or Person B because they’re hot, or Person C because they’re rich. But I’m pretty sure that that’s not… that’s not falling for someone. When you fall for someone… you just do. No logic required. You weren’t an option I ultimately settled on, Y/N. One day I just woke up and thought, if not you, then no one else.”

A beat passes. A flurry of words floods through your brain, only to evaporate when the devil on your shoulder decides that words aren’t quite adequate for what you want Oikawa to hear.

So instead, your feet take you one step closer into his space. Impulsively, your fingers find their way to his nape and your eyes flutter shut and suddenly–– suddenly, your parted lips brush against Oikawa’s. Instantly, he deepens the kiss, soft lips surging against yours like a pulse under pressure. You barely register his arms snaking around your waist, tighter and tighter until the space between your bodies is completely closed off.

Breathless, you finally detach your lips from his. Oikawa, who still has you encircled in his arms, pouts at the loss of contact, though he sulky façade only lasts a second before it gives way to a grin that stretches from ear to ear. He looks magnificent. Cheeks red, lips flushed, chest heaving, eyes wide with excitement. You want to kiss him again.

“One more.” It’s as if he read your mind. “To celebrate that last one.”

When Oikawa finally detaches himself from your lips, it’s to respond to the buzzing in his pocket. Noticing your raised brows, he explains that it’s an alarm for practice. The Spring High Prelims are just around the corner and he doesn’t plan on graduating without never having taken his team to Nationals.

“That’s my cue,” he states with a warm–– read: not apologetic–– smile. He doesn’t grab your hand or look imploringly into your eyes in hopes that you understand, never mind that you just shared your first kiss, never mind that you just became his girlfriend.

If Oikawa’s looking for any sign of your objection, he won’t find any. Instead, you step out of his space with an acquiescent nod. You knew what you were getting yourself into.

“Play well,” you say softly.

But before he heads for the creaky rooftop door, he presses one last kiss to your lips. And then he turns around, whistling as he goes, leaving you beaming behind his back with the light of a thousand suns.

iv.

When Matsukawa hands you the turquoise “Rule the Court” banner after the team lunch with a shit-eating grin on his face, the only resistance you offer is a resigned sigh.

“I’ve been dating Oikawa since we were second years,” you say flatly.

“Sorry, Y/N-san, but it’s the team’s hazing ritual,” he replies, not appearing sorry at all. “And you’re the only one who hasn’t done it.” He jerks his head at the blonde girl standing a little farther from the group with Hanamaki. “Emiko-san did it at the last game.”

“Plus, it’s the Spring High qualifier semifinals!” Kindaichi adds. “It’s an even bigger deal for you to do it now, especially since you had to miss our games on the first two days for school.” The team murmurs in agreement.

You shudder at the thought of your impending distress. Sit in the front row of the cheer squad and raise the banner with a scream every time your boyfriend serves? Fleeing from the Sendai City Gymnasium back home in an expensive taxi suddenly becomes very appealing.

Seeing the expectant and hopeful looks on the rest of the team’s faces, however, you begrudgingly place the banner in your backpack, signalling your acceptance of the horrible, cringe-worthy tradition.

“Where is Oikawa-san?” Kindaichi asks, rotating his turnip-shaped head around rapidly. “He was just at the team lunch. Iwaizumi-san’s missing too…”

Kunimi shrugs, pulling out his copy of the team schedule. He starts herding the team towards one of the courts. “Our game against Karasuno starts about an hour, so we should start warm-ups in around fifteen minutes.”

Worry creeps up your spine. For the past few days, all Oikawa has talked about is this match against his bratty kouhai’s team. And in the past two weeks leading up to today, you haven’t been able to even catch a glimpse of his face outside of break or lunch. To suddenly go missing before warm-ups doesn’t seem like Oikawa. You’re about to ask the team if he’s ever done this before, but your phone starts ringing a familiar tune and the question is set aside.

“Iwai––”

“Third-floor bathroom by the orange pillar. Come alone. Don’t tell anyone. Emergency.” Through his harsh and abrupt tone, you pick up traces of fear.

“What––”

“It’s Oikawa.” The call is cut before you can ask any more questions. Heart suddenly racing, you tell the team that your mother just called with questions about your new smart blender and excuse yourself to “explain what the manufacturers mean by salsify”. No one sees you bolt towards the nearest set of staircases with Oikawa the only thought on your mind.

There are very few things in this world that scare you. Stray hairs in the bathroom, the dark, essays longer than three pages… but the terror that short-circuits your brain when you find your boyfriend in the bathroom–– knuckles white around the sink, chest heaving violently, frenzied pupils surrounded by broken blood vessels–– trumps any fear you’ve faced before.

Iwaizumi stands helplessly beside him.

“Is he having a panic attack?” you question, still unable to move your feet. You’ve never seen Oikawa like this before. He’s the Grand King who hums while he walks, who spams your phone’s camera roll with peace-signs and funny faces, who winks and flirts and teases without regard. But watching the long-deified setter crumble like a measly human before you, you realise that Oikawa is also the guy who tore his meniscus from overexertion, who trades sleep to study his opponents play, who works his body to the bone just to stay a hairline above a certain Karasuno setter.

“A scout for the Schweiden Adlers said that Kageyama will soon surpass Oikawa in skill.” Iwaizumi explains how they had overheard the conversation lowly in your ear. “I got us into this bathroom just before he completely lost it. 5-4-3-2-1 isn’t working. And he won’t listen to a word I say.” What’s 5-4-3-2-1? Well, if it isn’t working then don’t focus on that right now.

Your eyes dart to Oikawa’s quivering body again. “I don’t know how to pull someone out of a panic attack.”

“The goal is to ground him. So use physical touch, make him feel something with texture, and get him to talk,” he responds instantly. Mechanically. Like he’s all-too-familiar with this set of instructions. A heaviness grows in the pit of your stomach when you realise what that means for Oikawa. And yet, from that very dread sprouts strength.

Slowly, you tread over to Oikawa and place a hand on his arm. His muscles tense under your touch but when you murmur over and over that it’s “Y/N, your girlfriend, the most annoying girl in Miyagi”, his fingers loosen ever-so-slightly from the metal basin. He lets you lead him to the bench by the door. He lets you drape the Seijoh banner over his shoulders like it’s armour and wrap your arms around his waist. He lets you press your cheek to his sweat-drenched back.

Get him to talk.

“Remember that quote you showed me from that interview of yours? What was it again?” you question softly.

No response.

“If you’re going to hit it, hit it until it breaks,” you say into his ear.

Through the mirror, you see his eyes widen with recognition. In the brief moment of lucidity that washes over Oikawa’s glistening face, you repeat the original question again, followed by his own quote.

Again and again.

And Oikawa finally says back.

“If you’re going to hit it, hit it until it breaks.” Focus re-enters his gaze. He blinks as if just waking from a spell.

“That’s right,” you say as firmly as possible. “So don’t you dare break first, Tooru.”

An unreadable blend of emotions scrawls itself over his features. While Oikawa washes his face with cold water, you remember rumination and resolve but can’t decipher the rest, giving up anyway when Iwaizumi pushes open the bathroom door. When the light washes over Oikawa, his face shows no signs of the episode he just had. It’s just like how the sky moves on after a storm, how the sun beams to say, “I’m here now. The rain has gone.”

But sometimes it still rains in spite of the sun.

A sunshower. It sounds so beautiful. But it’s wonderfully sad.

The three of you wordlessly make your way to the court where the rest of Seijoh is likely getting ready to warm up. What are you supposed to say after that? What can you say?

Once the smell of air salonpas and sweat finally greets your nose, Oikawa slips the Seijoh banner off his back and hands it over to you. Guessing that’s your cue to leave, you tell him to play well like you always do before starting to head for the upper deck. Softly, Oikawa asks you to wait.

“Stay for warm-ups,” he adds. “Please.”

From your spot behind the Seijoh divider, you carefully watch for any signs of another breakdown. To your relief, he goes the entire half-hour without a single crack in his disposition, exchanging laidback grins with the team, bantering with Iwaizumi. At one point he even has the audacity to taunt the Karasuno setter Tobio-chan, as Oikawa often says with a sneer.

Sunshowers, Y/N. Sunshowers.

Just before the referees call for the teams to line up at their ends of the court, Oikawa jogs over to you, eyes folding into thin crescents when he smiles.

He pulls the Seijoh banner out from your hands and gingerly cloaks it around your shoulders. Oikawa presses a quick kiss to your lips and murmurs, “Thank you.” Something in face tells you that it’s supposed to mean more than gratitude. Before you can read more into it, he turns back around and jogs to the line where his team awaits. Oikawa grins ferally.

Knowing that your luminous eyes are fixed to his back like his own set of wings, the monster crows on the other side suddenly look more like humans.

vi.

Oikawa isn’t surprised that his text is still unopened. At twenty-seven years old, he’s had his fair share of dead-ends when it comes to love. But he hadn’t expected radio silence from you of all people.

After closing all the tabs of Team Japan’s latest matches, he powers off his laptop and checks his phone again to reread what he wrote to your old number one last time. Still nothing. It’s highly probable you’ve changed phone numbers at least once in the last nine years, but the disappointment’s still there after he powers his phone off for the night. Tomorrow’s a big day and he’s not the same victim of self-destruction he had been in high school.

Or so he thinks, realising that texting the last person he loved the night before the 2021 Olympics volleyball finals might have been slightly irresponsible on his part. A thought arises in his head, though he quickly quashes it. Asking Iwaizumi to pass the message along would be a little overboard, wouldn’t it? Oikawa chuckles, imagining he response he’d get from his best friend (and Team Japan’s team trainer, that traitor).

“Go the fuck to sleep or I’ll put you to sleep, you dumbass simp,” he hears in Iwaizumi’s gruff voice.

He convinces himself that you’ll be there like you’ve always been. After all, he’s spent a lifetime with your pair of watchful eyes on his back. Satisfied, he drifts into a dreamless sleep.

The volume in the Ariake Arena is astronomical. Blood pounds against his ears as he sets the ball in the air, a monstrous grin carving into his face when his teammate José spikes the set straight down the net, drawing a wave of oohs and aahs from spectators on both sides.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes at the flashy Team Argentina setter and finishes taping up Ushijima’s arm.

Oikawa turns haughtily towards the opposite team, gaze zeroing in on Team Japan’s raven-haired setter and the shrimpy ginger beside him. It’s been a while since he last saw them this close in person–– the chance encounter with Hinata in Brazil happened well over three years ago and he hadn’t had the time earlier in the tournament to say hello. Of course they’re the final boss in this arc, he muses, though the thought is void of vexation. Instead, begrudging pride blossoms in his chest. Truthfully, he had expected nothing less from his kouhai.

And he expects nothing less than finally tasting the ambrosia of victory against that monster–– no, an entire generation of monsters–– today. Monsters who happen to be the kids he grew up beside.

He wonders what you’d say at the sight of Japan’s greatest players all gathered on one court. On instinct, his eyes dive into the bleachers, searching for your face. Knowing he’s not likely to find you like this, he tsks, deciding to look for Iwaizumi instead. Maybe he knows where you are.

The referees signal for both teams to line up at their ends of the court. As he steps onto the white boundary line, he notices Iwaizumi’s gaze transfixed on someone in the upper deck on Team Argentina’s side. The neutral expression on his face morphs into shock, then recognition. And then he glances at Oikawa.

The latter’s brows furrow before everything clicks in place.

Who else…

All your memories together hit him at full force–– your face shimmering with tears in front of gate twelve in Haneda Airport, the feeling of your shallow breaths against his neck, the savvy lilt to your voice as you speak.

… if not her?

For the first time in his life, Oikawa Tooru looks behind his shoulder.

And there you are, leaning against the railing with the old Seijoh flag draped over your shoulders, a tender, splendid smile on your lips.

“Play well,” you mouth.

And Oikawa feels the sun rise back into his hands.

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arrowflier · 3 years

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hi arrow! can i get a fic of ian being jealous on a date (maybe someone flirts with mickey??) and mickey just loves it bc it makes ian all passive aggressive and bossy and saying 'my husband' 283949 times ❤️

Of course you can! Or at least I tried lol, it got a little random.💖

That Green-Eyed Monster (is my husband)

They never had really gotten in the habit of going on dates, before. Not real dates at least, in public places where you could eat with utensils or sit side-by-side and pretend to watch the entertainment while you were really just watching each other. They had tried, but something always got in the way--the military, jail sentences, arrest warrants, pandemics, family emergencies--they just had shit luck, alright?

So when things got a little less crazy on the aforementioned fronts, they started trying a little bit harder. They had a designated date night, now. Sometimes they planned together, sometimes they took turns surprising each other with heartfelt (or sometimes comical) plans.

This time, it had been Mickey's turn.

“Where are we going?” Ian asked yet again from where he was blindfolded in the passenger seat of Tami’s car. They’d usually take the ambulance, but Mickey didn’t want to stick out too much today—not in a place where an ambulance could potentially be needed.

“I still ain’t gonna tell you,” Mickey answered, but relented enough to add, “we’re almost there though, you’ll see soon.”

Sure enough, the entrance to the parking lot came up on the right, and Mickey swung in in that ridiculous little car.

As soon as Ian felt the car stop, he was reaching for his blindfold—not one of their good ones, just an old headband they had found on Debbie’s floor—but Mickey grabbed his hand before he could slip it off.

“Hey hey hey,” Mickey chastised. “What’s the rush there, flash?”

“What, I can’t be a little eager for our date?” Ian pouted, knowing it would get Mickey to give in. No matter how many times he tried to pretend that he wasn’t soft, Mickey always gave in to the pout.

He was right. Gentle hands pushed the headband off of Ian’s eyes, which were immediately filled with the sight of Mickey’s own as the other man ran fingers through Ian’s hair in an attempt to smooth it down.

“Alright, come on then,” Mickey ordered, leaving one firm kiss at the corner of Ian’s lips before pulling back and getting out of the car. “If you’re so eager, you get to pay.”

Ian chuckled as he let himself out and met Mickey around the front of the car. “Why would I pay?” he asked jokingly. “It’s your week to woo me, asshole, you get to foot the bill.”

“Foot the bill with your money, sure,” Mickey retorted, and Ian rolled his eyes as he automatically fell into step beside him.

“Our money,” he reminded his husband, getting an arm around his waist. He was always surprised when Mickey let him do that—he said it felt awkward to walk with the jolly red giant suckered onto his side—but this time Mickey actually leaned into him.

He didn’t even notice where they were, outside a little building in the middle of nowhere. He let go of Mickey to walk through the door ahead of him, fully intending to continue their playful banter, when he stopped still.

There were a lot of guns in this place.

Paintball guns, that was.

“Mickey,” Ian said slowly as his husband came up behind him, “did you bring me here to shoot me?”

Mickey just smirked as he swanned past toward the check-in desk.

“Maybe, hotshot,” he answered. “You gonna complain?”

Ian shook his head with a shit-eating grin.

“Hell no,” he declared. “You better be ready for me.”

Mickey signed his name on a waiver with a flourish and took the gun handed to him by a worker, tossing it to Ian.

“Am I ever not?”

—

Ian was having a blast, pun intended, as he shot the shit out of everybody else on the range. Mickey wasn’t faring too badly either; despite being on the opposite team, neither one of them had managed to shoot each other yet.

It didn’t hurt that Mickey looked damn good, either. He was completely in his element out here, taking guys out left and right with perfect marksmanship and even more perfect form, his shoulders barely moving with the recoil as he shot. Half the time, Ian missed his chance because he was too busy watching him to fire—the other half, he didn’t even want to if it meant taking Mickey out of the game and losing his eye-candy.

Finally, a break was called, and everyone filed off the course while it was reset for the next round.

Ian grabbed a bottle of water from a long table near the building, guzzling half of it in one go before looking around for his husband.

He found him quickly enough, recognizing his back immediately even in unfamiliar gear with his hair all mussed from the protective helmet they had to wear.

But he did not recognize the man standing next to Mickey, raking his eyes over Mickey’s stocky build.

The stranger was saying something, Mickey tossing his head back in laughter, and then a hand was on Mickey’s arm and Ian suddenly found himself at Mickey’s back.

“Everything good here, fellas?” Ian asked casually, standing a couple feet away.

“Fine, Gallagher,” Mickey said with a smile. “Johnny here was just tellin’ me he could give me some pointers before the next round.”

Ian raised his eyebrows, glancing from Mickey’s face to the stranger’s and back.

“Pointers?” he asked, voice going a touch high at the end. Who the fuck did this guy think he was, offering shooting pointers to Mickey fucking Milkovich? He had gotten there just in time, it seemed, because there was no way in hell Mickey would let that insult slide.

“Yeah,” Mickey said. “Says I need to work on my form a little, widen my stance, you know. Thought I’d give it a shot.”

Wait. What?

“I was just telling him,” the stranger—Johnny, though how they were on a first name basis already Ian had no idea—chimed in, “that I have a lot of experience with real firearms.”

“And I was sayin’ how much I admire a military man,” Mickey interjected with a smirk, “so I might as well let him show me some moves.”

“Mickey,” Ian hissed lowly, “what are you doing?”

Mickey didn’t answer.

“You ever shot a real gun, Mick?” Johnny asked abruptly, catching on that he was missing something but determined not to lose Mickey’s attention.

“It’s like nothing else, dude, I swear. The feel of that smooth metal in your hands,” he continued as he moved closer, lifting a hand to Mickey’s arm again. “The way it moves with you, goes off when you,” he leaned in even closer, and added in a low voice, “pull the trigger.”

Alarm bells were ringing in Ian’s head at this point.

“Nah,” Mickey was answering, “my guy won’t let me play with the real stuff.”

“Sounds like you need a new guy, then,” Johnny murmured, and Ian had had enough.

“He’s taken,” he cut in gruffly, moving to stand by Mickey’s side. He couldn’t hold Mickey with the gear in the way, but he got a hand on his back, at least, curling fingers into the top of his waistband.

Johnny looked at him askance, and shrugged.

“I don’t see a ring,” he pointed out, and Ian grit his teeth. They had taken them off before starting, for safety, and he never regretting following the rules more a day in his life.

“Besides, who are you to speak for him?” Johnny asked.

“Oh, this is Ian,” Mickey introduced quickly. He was smiling, the asshole, like some guy wasn’t trying to steal him from right under Ian’s own nose. “He’s my—”

“His husband,” Ian stated firmly, and watched Johnny’s eyes go wide. “His ex-army, ex-con husband.”

“Hey man, I’m sorry,” Johnny apologized, hands up. “I didn’t know.”

Ian nodded, ready to let it go despite his urge to send the man packing, when Johnny insisted on talking again.

“You can’t blame me though, right?” he said with a little, nervous laugh. “I mean, he looks so damn—”

He didn’t finish his sentence, too busy keeling over with his hands on his groin after Ian shot a paintball right at his balls at point-blank range.

—

Two minutes later, Ian and Mickey were racing to the car as employees chased behind them, yelling. Apparently it was frowned upon to shoot someone on your own team, outside the course itself, during a break. It didn’t help that Mickey had done the same right after, just for fun.

“Hurry up, you jealous fuck,” Mickey shouted at Ian as he fumbled with the door handle. “We gotta get outa here before they realize I gave them fake names!”

Ian fell into the car, giddy with adrenaline and laughter.

“The fuck did you do that for?” he giggled as Mickey threw the car into reverse and peeled out of the lot.

“Cause I knew you would do something stupid!” Mickey said, shoving at Ian’s shoulder with one hand when Ian just laughed harder.

Ian gather himself as they drove, and felt his heart-rate start to normalize after a few minutes on the road. He held Mickey’s hand over the gearshift, finger rubbing over the spot where his ring should be—where it would be again as soon as they had a minute to breathe. Then, just as he was almost calm—

“Shit, Ian,” Mickey gasped. “We didn’t return the fucking guns.”

That set them off again, and they had to pull over halfway home until they could stop laughing and hide the paintball guns under the back seat.

Franny and Fred would love them come Christmas.

#daily speedwrite #fanfic #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #omc #jealous Ian #little shit Mickey #date night

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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 4 years

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Ya know, I truly hope Miss Renesmee Carlie Cullen fully dedicates herself to just....being as out there and iconic as possible

first things first- ANYTHING with the loch ness monster on it, she owns. Posters, shirts, jackets, shoes, folders, buttons, iron-ons, there is always at least 5 pieces of Nessie merch on her at all times

once she gets old enough to start high school, the cover story is her and Edward are siblings that Carlisle and Esme took in, and sometimes her classmates will ask her what her biological parents were like and she will flat out be like 'oh, they're vampires' and Edward and Bella are like. 5 feet away trying not to scream

every Halloween she'll show up to school in an elaborate Nosferatu costume

goes out of her way to photobomb people in increasingly ridiculous ways so there will Always be a photographic record of her and in like 100 years she can get a huge kick out of teens on the internet trying to make a conspiracy about her

joins as many school clubs as she can, even if she has no interest in them- she just Really wants a concrete record of herself to exist lmao

ICONIC at school theater though. One of those demon theater kids that come to rehearsal purely to cause chaos and nothing else, but her voice is incredible so she secures every lead. One time she somehow managed to star in a show while also playing in the school band for it- her classmates still have no idea how she pulled it off

Always brings blood out in public in a CLEAR THERMOS and it stresses her family out so much but everyone else thinks she's just like, weirdly into tomato juice so the Cullens can't stop her

to everyone's surprise...her biggest chaos enabler is Jasper lmao. everyone thought he'd be a logical, responsible uncle but they're just. A Problem together. He'll 100% assist her in any prank she wants to pull, he gets her fake id's when she wants to sneak into a club with friends, he bails her out of jail without telling her parents, they figured out if she gets high and he reads her feelings he'll get high too and it's. So fucking funny.

she's always carrying some random instrument around school- like for a while it's a guitar or a harmonica, fine, but then she'll start lugging a cello around, a tuba (she doesn't even play, she stole it off a guy who was annoying her) and it escalates until one day she's wheeling a piano around the building. no one's even sure how she got in in the doors of the school. She keeps running kids over in the hallway with it

You know the Catherine Tate Lauren Cooper skit with David Tennant? Where she's being a terrible student and then perfectly recites Shakespeare? 100% Nessie

when she starts getting dates Jacob keeps trying to wing man and be over supportive and give her a ton of girl advice and it's embarrassing as hell so one day when he was on a spiel about How To Woo A Lady she looks him in the eyes and goes 'oh really? did that work on my mom?' and the Cullens fucking LOSE IT. Jacob had to go live in the woods for a few days because he couldn't cope

Emmet and Jasper: arrive to school in their jeep. Rose and Alice: arrive in a convertible. Edward: arrives in his dumb volvo. Bella and Jake: arrive to school on motorcycles. Nessie: arrives to school on a unicycle while juggling

one year she ended up getting nominated for prom queen and Edward read the minds of the teachers tallying the votes so he knew she won and he and Bella were so excited!! they're like we're gonna take so many pictures of our baby looking like a princess! And then she emerges from her room, actually drenched in pigs blood. Like she just did it to herself and went to the dance and accepted her crown like that

she regularly commits crimes against fashion. If she comes out of her room and sees Alice contemplating turning herself over to the Volturi, she KNOWS she's picked a great look

somehow gets ahold of Aro's cell number and sends him selfies of her blatantly breaking vampire laws captioned 'whatcha gonna do'. he keeps blocking her but she keeps managing to get through to him somehow

she illegally sells soda out of her locker and does people's homework for cash, while also paying other people to do her homework for her. she organizes every single senior prank. she's never gotten a detention in her whole immortal life because every teacher just Adores her for some reason

had 100% used her powers for deserved evil before. Like, if someone's being a dick at school, she'll sneak into their room at night and give them nightmarea threatening them to be a better person lol

sometimes she'll show up at the hospital unannounced and ask Carlisle, in front of his coworkers, 'yo can I raid the blood bank?'

her bedroom looks like a library. every wall, floor to ceiling books.

she's been publishing trashy romance novels under a fake name for almost 40 years now and no one in her family knows

one birthday Jacob takes her on a trip to vegas and they get wasted, at some point they were laughing about how ridiculous their lives are and they're like 'wouldn't it be fucking hilarious if we had a baby'. they then black out, hangover style, and wake up like a week later with a payment on her card to a fertility clinic. Jacob's like 😱 and Ness is just like 'you get to be the one to explain this to my parents'

Their kid is absolutely hilarious, they were correct, and at some point they realized 'wait...drinks blood..doesn't sparkle...can shape shift...we've somehow created a classic pop culture vampire' lmao

Edward had to threaten them to get them to not name the kid Vladimir

Also to be clear: Nessie and Jacob have the EXACT same dynamic as Will and Grace. that's canon.

says its her goal to star in a live action all female production of mamma mia and Carlisle is like 'honey you know you can't do anything on broadway or in hollywood' and she's like, 'no, in real life. I'm gonna go to greece and attract a bunch of women with abba songs' and he's like,,,,,ah

she loves all music but she goes out of her way to Only play stuff she knows Edward hates lmao

one day she remembers she doesn't need to breathe and can see under water and just. books herself a ticket to scotland and Finds The Loch Ness Monster

she actually personally finds a lot of monsters and cryptids like her hybrid aura just attracts all kind of weird shit and she LOVES it. She stops writing trashy romance novels and starts writing autobiographies of her traveling and hanging out with paranormal beings and everyone just assumes its fiction so she becomes a best selling fantasy author lmao

100% she's very into witchy stuff and only like...half in a trendy way. She's like what if on top of everything I've got going on I can cast spells? Think I deserve that power

when she's a couple decades old she catches Edward looking grossed out one day and she asks him what's up and he's like 'I really dont need to hear what creepy teachers think about my daughter' and she's like. oh. Dad we are gonna get SO MANY pedophiles arrested shdndjdn she gets him to expose teachers and she baits them then calls the police. queen.

She finds out she can get tattoos but they fade completely out of her skin within 5 years so she's always getting crazy tats

posts selfies on social media of her just like. hanging out with mountain lions or chilling on top of the space needle. her classmates think they're all photoshopped obvi but it drives her family insane

imagine you're 15 and you're on a nice hike in the woods and you come across your one classmate half naked, sacrificing a bear in some ritual, blood dripping down her face, bigfoot chilling on the rocks behind her filming the ritual on her phone...like on one hand, what would you do, but on the other hand. you've known this girl for a bit and you aren't surprised at all

anyway. stan Nessie Cullen.

#twilight saga #renesmee cullen #nessie cullen #breaking dawn #twilight #molly mumbles

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shyficwriter · 3 years

Text

Temporary Home: Chapter 4

Guardians of the Galaxy fanfic | Reader x Guardians (With Yondu and Kraglin!)

Summary: Things just seem to keep getting tense around here... Will Reader ever catch a break? Will Yondu ever solve the mystery?

Previous Chapter here | Next Chapter Here Or click here to: Start From Beginning

Author’s Note: This chapter is a LONG BOI. I considered splitting it, but then one chapter would have been 2k+ words and the other would have been 5k+, and for some reason I thought people wouldn't like the inconsistency lol (Feel free to weigh in. I know a few of you have said you liked longer chapters, and I haven't gotten any nay-sayers, but still thought I might as well ask lol)

And thank you to the anons and @condy-wants-a-cookie for your bad roommate suggestions! I wasn't able to add them all in, but they were all appreciated nonetheless!

Word Count: 7,321

This morning you did sleep in, but that didn't make your day much better.

You were slightly hungover, to start, and you spent most of the day in a funk trying to avoid everyone.

This wasn't completely possible, seeing as you now lived with eight other people, but the others seemed to mostly get the hint that you wanted to be left alone.

The first real interaction you had was around noon as you poured yourself some cereal and Yondu and Peter came in the backdoor to tell you they just heard gunshots from the forest.

You barely glanced at them. "Hunters." you said. "Probably hunting pigeons, but more likely they're poaching deer or fox. Happens every year."

They seemed almost surprised by your blasé attitude at hearing there were gunshots, but did seem to relax a bit that you seemed so confident. You had said you grew up here, after all.

Peter was still a little nervous however. "Do they ever come this way?"

You look up to him, knowing what he was getting at. He wanted to make sure they wouldn't happen upon your house while anyone obviously not human was outside and put them all at risk. "No. I'm pretty sure it's just a man and his boys who live a couple miles away. I've never heard the shots come closer than a mile outside the property. You're fine."

Seemingly convinced they finally left you, but you did notice no one seemed to go out until well after the last of the shots were heard, and you assumed Peter must have warned the others to stay inside just in case.

After you ate you went upstairs to grab your music, fancying a walk. However, once you got there you caught Groot sticking his tendrils in the lock of the attic door.

"What you doing there?" you say, firm enough to get his attention, but gentle enough to hopefully not to scare him.

He turned to you, pulling back his vines, looking sorry. "I am Groot."

You shook your head. "Sorry buddy, I have no idea what you're saying, let's find someone who can translate." You beckoned him to come, holding out your hand.

Groot looked sheepish, like he wasn't sure he wanted to come, but eventually he did, toddling over to you and allowing himself to be picked up.

You carried him downstairs and into the sitting room, finding everyone but Mantis, Kraglin, and Rocket sitting at the table. You walked over and asked if anyone there could translate, sitting Groot on the table.

"Sure," Peter offered, "What's up?"

"Well, I found him growing his vines into the lock of the attic door and I just want to know what he was doing." Actually, you thought you knew what he was doing. It looked like he was trying to pick the lock, what you really wanted to know was why.

Gamora looked at the tree child with both confusion and intrigue. "Groot, why did you do that?"

"I am Groot."

"No buddy, she's not going to do that. She just wants to know what you were doing to her door." Peter answered.

You raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, I forgot we have to repeat the question for him. He doesn't know what you're saying. He was worried that you were going to be mad at him like you were to Rocket last night."

You were taken aback by this. "He can't unde-? But the first night you all got here-? I asked him a question and Drax translated his answer for me?"

Drax shrugged. "It was easier to make something up than explain he won't be able to understand you because neither of you have translators. What he had really told you was that he had no idea what you said."

Yondu and Peter looked at Drax like he was stupid. It wouldn't have taken much more effort to explain. He literally just did it.

You also look at Drax. "So this whole time he hasn't been able to understand a word I've said to him?" A realization hit you. "But wait- I'm pretty sure we-" you pointed a finger back and forth between you and them, "are speaking the same language??" You were wondering if they were trying to prank you.

Gamora looked at you apologetically. She would have corrected Drax when he made up an answer for Groot that first night, but she was too exhausted to deal with it, and afterwards it just never came up again. You had spent more and more time avoiding everyone anyway. "We're actually not speaking the same language. We all have translator chips, it's how we can all understand each other. It's standard where we're from. They work both ways. It's how you can understand us and how we can understand you. However, because neither you or Groot has one, he can't understand you." She didn't go into the fact that their translators didn't actually translate Groot, or how their understanding of him only came from time spent with him and Rocket's translations. She doubted they'd be there much longer for it to make a difference anyway.

"I see," you said. You frown. "I guess that explains why he never seemed to listen."

Peter lightly chuckled at that, as did Yondu.

"Anyway," Peter said, trying to bring the conversation back to what you came for. "What were you doing to her door?"

"I am Groot."

"He said he was trying to unlock it."

"Alright, kinda figured that, but why?"

Peter repeated the question to Groot and came back with the answer, "He said he was looking for a hiding spot?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"I am Groot."

"Oh that's right, you were playing hide and seek."

"Hmm. Well that's all fine, but the attic is off limits. It's locked for a reason." you say.

"She says you can't go in there, buddy. There are monsters in there."

You give him a strange look, but he gives his head a quick shake as if to tell you not to question it. You figured he probably thought the kid would be more likely to listen if he thought there were monsters and let it go.

Groots eyes went wide and he turned to you. "I am Groot?"

Yondu answered, fighting back a grin. "Yeah, really. Now run along before we feed you to them."

Peter smacked him in the arm as little Groot hopped off the table, and Yondu laughed and held up his hands in a "What?" gesture.

Almost on cue you then heard Kraglin call out, "Ready or not, here I come!" before walking into the sitting room and encountering Groot as he ran towards the door. He looked at Groot and laughed, "I don't think you know how this game works, buddy," before turning and leaving the room himself.

You also started to leave when Drax asked, "Why is the attic off-limits?"

Gamora shot him a look for being nosy but you answered anyway. "It's.. unsafe," you lie. "Old house, you know. Don't want anyone falling through the floor."

You leave them then, saying you're going out for a walk.

Your walk wasn't too long, just along the road a ways before turning back. When you got back to the house you decided to practice your archery some more. You may or may not have pretended that a certain someone's face was the target.

When you finally did come back inside you arrived to a commotion in the hall.

You didn't know what the fight was about. You didn't ask either. All you saw was Kraglin and Rocket standing in the hall arguing about some nonsense. Drax was also there, but he was sitting down on the bench tying his boots and seemed uninterested in the argument.

Then you saw Rocket go to bite Kraglin, miss, and then settle for lunging on him and Kraglin struggling to get him off. Drax didn't really do anything other than scold Rocket, and you suspected this must be so normal for him to witness that it just didn't register anymore.

Your nostrils flared and your eyes narrowed at the scene.

Rocket attacking and Kraglin flailing.

Peter came out of the sitting room, presumably to tell them to knock it off, then he saw the murderous look in your eyes and his sentence caught in his throat as he watched you storm over.

You grabbed Rocket by the scruff of the neck and roughly pulled him off, both to his and Kraglin's surprise. Rocket actually made a noise akin to a squeak.

The others watched as you wordlessly marched the fecker to the front door, earning many angry protests from the Raccoon on the way for you to let him go as he kicked and squirmed.

Hearing the sudden change in the commotion, this prompted Gamora and Yondu to join Peter in the doorway. Yondu, out of curiosity, and Gamora out of concern.

You jerked the door open, and told Rocket to take a walk before tossing him out like a rag doll, mercifully onto the grass. He landed and stared back in a mix of shock and anger, too stunned to think of running back towards you. "You can come back in when you stop wanting to being such a damn asshole." you told him, promptly shutting the door and spinning the deadbolt.

You didn't look at the others as you turned on your heels and made your way up the stairs to your room.

They stared at each other in the hallway, wondering if they had really just witnessed what they saw, and if they should do anything about it.

On one hand, you just literally threw their friend outside.

On the other, maybe it would cool him down to go for a walk?

In the end they decided not to intervene, see how it played out. Way they saw it there were two possible outcomes. One outcome, Rocket takes his time out and actually comes back calmer and ready to be civil. The other outcome, he spends his time out getting more pissed and then rips your face off when you finally let him back in.

The real outcome, however, was less conclusive.

You decided rather than waste the pasta one of the others bothered to save from the previous night, you'd re-make the sauce and heat the spaghetti and serve it for dinner that night.

You called the others to the kitchen and told them to serve themselves before leaving the kitchen. Fortunately there were no accusations of poison this time, but that could have been because Yondu saw which door of the kitchen you exited from and figured you were going to call Rocket back inside.

He was right.

You open the front door and call out into the open, "Hey, Rocket! If you've decided you want to play nice then come inside and eat!" You resisted the urge to call him 'shit-head' instead of his name. More flies with honey and all that.

You waited a bit and then saw Rocket turning the corner of the house to approach the front door. He didn't say anything, just grouchily shuffled inside and you followed in behind him. You didn't say anything either, trying not to antagonize too much.

When you saw everyone else was served you made a plate and took your dinner in your room. No one questioned. At the urging of Gamora they were still trying to give you your space.

They only hoped things would be less tense tomorrow.

***

The next time you were seen wasn't until a little before midnight, when Yondu happened to glance out the window as he was tucking into bed and saw your shadowy figure walking towards the forest in the moonlight.

He frowned. Once was odd. Twice only made him that much more curious. What was nearly the tipping point of his curiosity was the fact that he realized he would never hear you leaving the old house, which to him implied you were sneaking out. Sneaking out of your own house. The hell?

What the hell was out there that you kept disappearing to at night? Where you disappeared to when Rocket ruined dinner?

Next time he was going to stay up and catch you before you left.

***

Starting out things were indeed NOT less tense the next day.

Your day started out with Kraglin accidentally walking in on you when you had just gotten out of the shower. Fortunately for both of you you had literally just wrapped the towel around yourself before he opened the door, but that didn't make anything less awkward, or either of your startled screams less shrill.

He tried to apologize later, but you'd only responded with "Let's just never speak of it again."

Then you went to grab some breakfast, you thought toast would be nice. Only when you got into the kitchen the toaster was nowhere to be found. Maybe you put it in a cupboard? You opened the press where you might have put it, only to find your cooking pans instead.

That wasn't the particular cupboard where you kept your pans, however, and you began to have a sinking feeling as to what might have happened.

You opened another cupboard and finally found the toaster alongside the blender- again, not where they were supposed to be. You then went to find a knife, and wouldn't you know it, all your silverware was gone and replaced with towels.

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Do you like it?"

You turned to see Mantis and Drax beaming like they did a good deed. "What?"

"We re-arranged the kitchen." Drax said. "Rocket said it was a Terran custom and you'd be very happy."

You rub a hand down your face. Fecker pulled another prank. "And you believed Rocket why, exactly?"

Drax and Mantis shared a look, as if they just realized it wasn't a smart idea to believe Rocket. They only grimaced apologetically back at you with an "Um..."

After a moment Mantis asked if you were mad.

You look at them for a bit before saying, "No. I'm not mad. I'm not happy about it, but I'm not mad. But, you two are going to help me put everything back."

They nodded quietly and got to work. It took an hour to get it straight again.

After you finally got to eat you decided to tend your garden again. It didn't need much weeding, so you decided to work slow to avoid going back inside for a bit. Mantis had also come outside with you and went over to play on the swing. She had seemingly become quite fond of it in her short time here.

After perhaps ten minutes you heard a snap and a startled cry and turned to find Mantis now on the ground. The old rope had finally snapped.

Mantis looked up at you and sheepishly said, "Sorry, I broke your swing."

You look at her in exhaustion. "It's fine. Not your fault, it was old. You ok?"

Mantis nodded and headed back inside as she rubbed her smarted behind.

You turn back to your garden. Today might be another archery day.

Instead of archery you thought of another idea. Rocket had complained about sleeping in the crib at least five times since he got here, probably more when you weren't around to hear it. Maybe you could build him a little bed as a peace-offering. Maybe he'd be less insufferable if you fixed the problem he was always complaining about.

You already knew you had enough wood in the shed to do it, and you already knew the crib fit a 120 X 60 cm mattress, so you'd just build the bed to the same dimensions as the crib so the mattress would still fit- you weren't going to go to that much trouble for the shithead. And as a bonus, this was also another way to keep busy.

You sketched out a quick plan on an old notepad you kept in the work shed and got to work cutting the pieces.

It was a simple design, but one that still required the bed legs and headboard to be joined and clamped together, same as the footboard. This meant you wouldn't be finished by tonight, especially not if you decided to stain it, which was fine by you. You weren't exactly in a rush.

You did what you were able to of the bed frame before heading back inside, maybe a little more than an hour later to grab something quick for lunch. Rocket was already in the kitchen eating something out of a little packet that looked unfamiliar to you. More alien food, you thought.

He looked up at you as you walked in with a raised eyebrow. "What you been up to?"

You looked down to where his gaze met and saw you still had a bit of sawdust on your jeans. You brushed it away and said, "Nothing."

He eyed you before his expression changed to a grin. He thought he'd have a little fun with you, slight revenge for the previous day when you threw him outside. Nothing much, just something to take "Miss Cranky-Ass" down a peg. He looked at you innocently. "Hey, you want to try one of these? They're good."

You eye him suspiciously. Every instinct you had told you not to trust him.

Rocket could tell you weren't biting. "Look, I know things have been tense between is, but consider it a peace offering." He held out the bag and kept grinning.

Not a chance.

Peter walked into the kitchen at that moment, just the person you needed to see. You got his attention, "Hey, Peter, what's this little fecker trying to do to me?"

Peter looked confused. "What?" he asked.

"He's offering me whatever those purple things are, and I think you could forgive me for not trusting it right away."

Rocket made a show of looking offended, "I'd never-"

Then Peter got a look at the bag and shot Rocket an annoyed look. "Yeah, do not eat that." he warned. He looked at Rocket. "You know Terrans can't eat xanti-berries." He looked back at you, "Seriously, don't eat them. You'll be shitting yourself the rest of tonight and tomorrow."

Your eyes widened and you looked at Rocket bitterly. Your instincts had been right. Can't trust the little shit. And to think you were making him a bed so he didn't need to sleep in the crib.

Rocket was now snickering, saying to Peter, "Come on- I mean we know that's what happens to you-" More snickering. "But maybe it's just a you thing-" Snickering now turns to laughing. "Maybe- Maybe she'd be fine. AHAHA!"

The little beast was now fully laughing at his own joke.

"Yeah, no thanks," you say, turning to grab a granola bar instead.

Peter shooed still laughing Rocket out of the kitchen. "I'm sorry about him, he's-"

"An asshole?" you finish for him.

Peter rubbed the back of his head, "Yeah..." he said with an apologetic look. He could tell you were past tired of his friend's bullshit, which was bad because they hadn't even been there a full week yet.

You shook your head and went to eat in your room, maybe you'd scroll some tumblr.

***

Not much later after you had gotten bored refreshing the page, you thought you'd look for a book to read in the sitting room, and walked in on Rocket and Peter arguing over what to watch. This eventually lead to the remote being flung across the room and just narrowly missing the TV.

You rub your temples and sigh. "You know, if you break that, I'm not replacing it."

"Oh yeah, you think we're gonna replace it?" Rocket snarked.

You looked at them. "That's not what I said, is it? I said I'm not replacing it. Meaning if you break it, there just won't be one. I'm not going to reward bad behavior by replacing it if you break it."

You heard Rocket mutter, "Whatever," and not long after you started hearing the noises of them bickering and smacking at each other again.

"Enough!" you say in a loud, firm voice that honestly startled Peter a bit and caught the attention of Kraglin from the table where he was doing a puzzle he found on a shelf. Your desire to find a book forgotten you left the sitting room, saying, "God, you act like children!"

You passed Gamora on your way out and said, "How do you deal with them?!" You continued on without waiting for an answer and Gamora shot a disapproving look at the pair on the couch, clearly unhappy that they were still finding ways to piss you off.

You went back into the kitchen, retrieved a glass from the cupboard, the whiskey bottle from the other night from the fridge, and sat at the table.

Yondu walked in about ten minutes later. "Starting a little early, I see." He wasn't actually sure if it'd be early to start drinking by Terran customs or not, but he knew from when he still had his crew and the Eclector, his crew typically weren't allowed to start in until all their day's duties were done, which, not always, but usually wasn't until after dinner. Outward appearance would have suggested otherwise, but he kept a tighter ship than one might think. Couldn't have someone piss drunk on the job and fucking everything up, now could he? That's not to say the crew always listened... but they were well aware of the consequences of getting caught drunk on the job.

You only answered back with a, "There are glasses in the cupboard if you want some."

Yondu chuckled and went for a glass, not one to refuse a drink.

As soon as he sat down you stood up. "I'll be back." you announce.

Yondu poured himself a glass and you shortly returned with another bottle of whiskey from the cellar. "Bottle was almost gone," you explain, setting the new bottle on the table and re-taking your seat.

Yondu looked at you, amused, but also mildly wondering where you had retrieved a second bottle from. He had never been bothered to explore the cellar. If he had he would have known you kept most of your unopened alcohol down there, where it could stay cool without needing a refrigerator.

Yondu took a sip, and almost recoiled, having not expected this Terran stuff to be quite so strong. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle, mind you, but he had honestly just assumed Terran whiskey would be weak. From experience with Peter, the boy always got piss drunk after only barely a couple shots of Xandarian liquor, which wasn't very strong, so he just assumed Terrans had a naturally lower tolerance. Now he just supposed Quill was a lightweight.

"Anything on your mind?" Yondu asked. If you were sitting here drinking alone surely there must be.

You glance up. "Nope," you say, as you down the rest of your glass. You pour another.

"Uh huh... right. That's why you look like a grump-ass sitting here drinking all by yourself then."

You give him a look, gesturing to him with your glass. "You're sitting right there aren't you? Looks like I ain't alone."

Yondu chuckled and shook his head. Cheeky shit. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Nope."

Yondu grinned and pointed at you knowingly. "Gotcha."

"What?" you say, confused by his tone.

"Ya said ya don't wanna talk about it. Means there's somethin' on yer mind."

You look at him through narrow eyes and take another sip.

"What is it? Tired of Rocket's shit? Don't blame ya. Rat can be a real asshole."

You sigh.

"So it is the rat, then?"

"Quit," you say, taking another drink and looking at him sternly.

Yondu held up his hands and backed off. "Alright. I won't push it."

"Push what?" came Peter's voice from the doorway as he and Kraglin walked into the kitchen. Peter grabbed a snack from the pantry and tossed one to Kraglin.

"Cool, didn't realize we were starting a party" Kraglin joked, referring to the two whiskey bottles on the table and you and Yondu sitting there with your glasses.

Figuring you might as well offer them some you motioned to the cupboard again. "Glasses up there. Might as well join us."

You didn't have to ask them twice. Peter got down a couple glasses and Kraglin poured them some drink.

Peter nodded to the two bottles and joked asking if you were trying to see who could outdrink the other.

You shrugged. "Nah. If we were to do that, he'd need to catch up."

Yondu laughed. "You don't wanna go there, missy. I'll drink ya under the table before you knew what hit you." He chuckled and elbowed Kraglin in the arm, who snickered, knowing full well Yondu could drink like a tank.

You rolled your eyes. "Like I said, you'd need to catch up to me first. I'm about four ahead of you.

Yondu's head snapped back to you glancing from your drink to you. "Four?" You must be joking. You weren't even tipsy yet that he could tell.

You were unable to hold back a laugh. "Nah, I'm only messing with you." You downed your glass. "I'm two ahead after that one." You poured yourself another glass. You grinned slightly. "Again, do I need to wait for you to catch up?"

Yondu grinned at you, his eyes almost inquisitive. "Ya really sure ya wanna do that?" He was confident you didn't stand a chance.

Peter laughed. "What, you scared she'll outdrink you?"

Yondu rolled his eyes and downed his glass. "No. Jus' concerned she'll hurt herself tryin'," he laughed.

Now you rolled your eyes. "Fine. Don't. I'll accept your admission of defeat." you say with a shrug as you take another sip. This was almost definitely the buzz talking. You weren't a lightweight, but you still weren't exactly the heaviest drinker.

Peter and Kraglin hid giggles behind their glasses as Yondu gave you a hard look and poured himself another glass and downed it.

"There, I'm caught up." he said, pouring himself another glass to match you. "I'll give you one more chance to back out, sweetheart."

You down your glass. "I ain't your sweetheart, grandpa."

Yondu narrowed his eyes and downed his as well. "Then it's on, pipsqueak."

"Ooh-hoho. You're gonna regret that." you say, unable to hold back a grin as you poured another round for the two of you.

Peter and Kraglin were now openly laughing at the show as they sipped their drinks.

Yondu tipped his glass to you and took a sip. "We'll see." He wasn't really concerned with the drinking game. He was fairly certain he'd win. He did, however, think the whiskey might loosen your tongue, get you to talk to him. Maybe he'd eventually get around to asking why you lived in such a big place by yourself or what was in the forest that you kept walking into.

You followed his lead, sipping your current glass rather than downing it right away. Maybe it was the buzz starting to talk, but you suddenly were curious about something. "I don't think you guys ever told me why you needed to go into hiding in the first place."

"Fury didn't tell you?" Peter asked.

"Nope. He was too busy moving you guys in and changing up my house and getting into my shit to mention it." you say, taking another sip.

Yondu also sipped. Tongue loosening: Check.

"Well it's kinda a long story," Peter began, "but short version, we were hired to do a job for these people, and we did it, but then Rocket insulted them, and stole their shit, and now they've vowed vengeance."

"And they ain't the forgivin' type." Kraglin added.

"No. Definitely not," said Yondu mournfully, taking another sip. Bad enough his crew mutinied and he blasted his ship to hell, now he had to go into hiding. Yondu Udonta doesn't hide... unless forced to by the Nova Corps because he joined his boy's little team of galaxy savers, apparently... He supposed it was better than jail. He should really thank Peter for pulling those strings sometime.

"Anyway, so when the Nova Corps heard about it they insisted we go into hiding until they could try and smooth it over."

"Hmm." You say, finishing your glass. "So they're trying to beg for your lives, is that it?"

Peter shrugged awkwardly. "More or less."

"They must really like you." you laughed, looking down as Yondu poured everyone another round.

"They should," Yondu said. "He saved the galaxy twice."

Peter looked at him and he tried to hide how his heart swelled. Receiving praise from the blue man for things other than thievery was still new to him, but he didn't exactly hate it.

Yondu ignored his gaze. He wasn't about to get caught up in sentiment. He changed the subject. "Why don't ya tell us a little about yerself?"

You pretended to think a bit before taking a drink and saying, "Hmm... Nope."

Yondu held back a sigh. Tongue loosening: Un-Check. He tipped back his glass and nodded to you, as if to challenge.

You tipped your glass back in turn and as you poured another Yondu taunted, "I think that was five now, sure ya don't wanna slow down?"

You give him a patronizing look. "Is that your way of saying you give up?" You started to giggle behind your hand when Yondu's expression read 'Oh please.' and he finished his glass to keep the pour even between you.

Kraglin grinned wide and nudged Peter, "Eh, Pete, tell her about that time you got stabbed for flirting with that A'askvarii chick."

Peter's eyes widened and he looked at Kraglin, "Not cool, dude!"

Yondu chuckled and you just looked at Peter inquisitively, having no idea what an 'A'askvarii' was. Before you could ask Yondu spoke up.

"If I remember correctly he didn't get stabbed for that one. Kree girl tried to rip out his thorax. He got stabbed for trying to pull a runner on a Rajack girl." Yondu said, grinning before taking another drink.

Peter glared at him. "New topic." He looked at you. "What got you into archery?"

You sighed through your nose. You supposed it was an innocent enough question. "Dad taught me. How'd you'd come about living in space?"

Peter made a face and downed his drink. "Uh, long story, another time..." How would he explain that the reason he was in space was because his Celestial father sent the man sitting next to you to abduct him... and make it not sound awful? Better think of something lighter. "Uh... Got any family around or is it just you?"

You eyes narrowed. Your former giddiness visibly left you.

'Oh no.' Peter thought. That apparently wasn't lighter... You must not get along with your family. He tried to fix it. "Ok, touchy subject- I mean... Oh look, your glass is empty!" He quickly poured you and him another round.

You actually almost laughed at that, and a slight grin cracked your face.

Yondu saw how your expression changed and incorrectly assumed that it meant you weren't actually that irritated by Peter's question. He then took that incorrect assumption to pose his own question. "So, you didn't quite answer the other night, and I'm still curious. How come it's just you in this big old house?"

This prompted Kraglin to add his own question. "Yeah, and I've been wondering too, how's come you don't keep any photos?"

Your glare returned. You sat your glass down and stood up saying in a slightly slurred speech, "I have to pee." and excused yourself from the table, stumbling a bit as the alcohol hit you. You righted yourself, earning a chuckle from Peter and Kraglin, who knew too well that it's always easy to believe you aren't as drunk as you are until you stand up and the room spins.

Yondu also laughed, but internally cursed himself. He wasn't gonna get any answers like this. He hoped that maybe there was still a chance to save it when you got back. He saw a hint of pain in your eyes just before you left, and it made him want to know why. He felt he was so close to putting the pieces together.

***

You head to the bathroom irritated at being asked the personal questions. Leave it up to your new house mates to ruin your buzz.

You only got more irritated upon entering the bathroom, however.

Someone had left their wet towels on the floor. Rolling your eyes in annoyance you kicked them aside to make your way to the toilet. Mercifully you didn't find any unpleasant surprises waiting inside it like you had been. Peter must have gotten the "Flush the damn toilet!" message through to Drax. However, once you had done your business you found that someone couldn't have been bothered to replace the toilet roll properly, just having sat it on the roll holder.

You sigh irritably and replace it properly yourself. Yes, it could have been worse. They could have not replaced it at all and forced you to do a mini walk of shame to the sink cupboard to retrieve it, but you were too cranky to look at the bright side.

Then you went to wash your hands, only to see someone had smeared toothpaste all over the sink, a big pet peeve of yours. Your nostrils flared and you muttered to yourself as you washed that you weren't going to clean it. Screw that.

You went to dry your hands, and find there was no towel to dry them. You gritted your teeth and ripped a towel from the small closet, hanging it on the hook when you were finished.

Before leaving the bathroom you tried to gather yourself, taking a deep breath and telling yourself to calm down. It would be ok. You were just a little drunk. It wasn't that big of a deal. You were going to go back out and try to have some fun drinking that blue bastard under the table. (This, of course, was the alcohol talking. False confidence. You really did never stand a chance of outdrinking the Ravager captain.)

You start to open the door, and that's when you reach your breaking point.

***

After you left, Kraglin nudged Peter again, whispering the words, "A'askvarii girl," to him and giggling like a child.

Peter smacked him in the arm, "Quit it! That was one time! And I was only trying to get information! Tell him Yondu!" He tried to look angry, but the whiskey was having its usual effect on him, making him a giggly little bitch.

Yondu only grinned and shook his head. "I dunno boy, you were a little too convincing if ya ask me... Nobody asked you to sleep with her."

Kraglin bust out laughing at Peter's face, which was an odd mix of horror, drunken mirth, and "Dammit, you got me." He playfully shoved Peter and Peter shoved back with a "You suck!" which prompted Kraglin to squeeze his side, which of course made Peter jolt with a laugh and smack him away.

Kraglin only did it again and Peter laughed out a "Quit it!" while smacking him again.

Yondu just rolled his eyes and chuckled, sipping his whiskey as he watched his boys mess around like they did when they were younger on the Eclector.

After a pinch to the knee Peter bolted off his chair, only to have Kraglin follow, laughing, "Come back 'ere, ya coward!" He got Peter in a headlock and started to give him a noogie.

Peter laughed and managed to worm away, taking off into the hallway.

Yondu watched in amusement as Kraglin followed Peter out of the kitchen, and listened as the sounds of their shenanigans took them from the front door down the hall. That's when he heard the sound of a door slamming and a loud cry of "OW! Mother---FUCKer!" that sounded suspiciously like you.

'Oh shit,' he thought, standing from the table to go inspect the damage.

***

It had all happened fairly quickly.

You had opened the bathroom door maybe a foot before it slammed back in your face. Literally in your face. You recoiled and swore loudly, the flash of pain made your eyes water and you saw red before you even realized you were bleeding.

Kraglin and Peter jerked away from the door in startled shock after hearing you cry out. They had only been horsing around when their antics caused Peter to fall back into the door just as you opened it. They jumped when the door slammed back open with an incredible BANG against the wall, and their eyes went wide when they saw you standing there, murderous rage in your eyes and blood running from your nose down your chin.

Maybe it was because he was the nearest person, or maybe it was because he instinctually held up his hands and said "Sorry! Sorry! It was an accident!" but Peter was the one you lunged at.

You grabbed him by the shoulder and slammed him into the wall, nearly a week's worth of frustration and rage channeled through you as his body connected with the plaster.

Peter, not just going to stand there and let himself get beaten up, tried to grab your wrists and get you off him, but you evaded his attempts and punched him in the stomach.

This slightly knocked the wind from him, but he managed to grab your wrist and push off from the wall. He spun you around and tried to restrain you in a bear hug, saying, "Take it easy!" but you only dropped to your knees and lurched forward, flipping him over your back towards the front door.

Kraglin looked to Yondu, who watched from outside the kitchen door near the end of the hall. His gaze asked what to do, but Yondu only shrugged and didn't try to intervene. He knew Peter could handle himself and he was sure you needed to let off some steam, so he just enjoyed the show.

The commotion brought the others in though. Gamora and Mantis flew down the stairs, while Rocket, Drax, and Groot stepped out of the sitting room to witness the fight with wide eyes. They didn't know what had happened, but you looked ready for the kill, and to the few who could see it from their vantage, you looked almost terrifying with your bared teeth full of blood.

You now straddling Peter, attempting to throw a punch when he blocked it and flipped the two of you over. He breathlessly told you to settle down as you struggled, but you wouldn't hear it. If anything it seemed to make you more pissed off, and Gamora's cries for the two of you to stop fell on deaf ears.

You kneed Peter in the stomach and flipped the two of you back over. You weren't sure what next possessed you, but you threw your head down and sank your teeth into his shoulder.

Peter threw his head back and cried out in pain, mixing in a few curses as well.

Yondu cocked his head, seeming unsure on whether he wanted to be impressed or not to see you, Miss SHIELD Agent, fight dirty. Kraglin finally spoke up to say, "Hey, hey, now! No bitin'!" as if he were refereeing a wrestling match.

Right about then you felt large strong hands grip you about the waist, surprising you into releasing your bite on Peter as they pulled you off of him. The arms moved from your waist to secure your wrists and before you knew it you were being restrained in half a bear-hug by one very strong arm as you were turned away from Peter and pulled towards the front door.

Drax paused to open the door and, turning you to face him, flatly said. "You need to take a walk."

"Drax!" Gamora hissed, appalled that he was throwing their host out of her own house, despite the circumstances.

Rocket, of course, laughed and asked how you liked it, like an asshole. It was only then he saw the blood around your nose and mouth and his expression changed slightly to reflect his shock, now wondering if you had actually taken a chunk out of Peter when you bit him. Were you some kind of maniac?

You spat blood at him, only for it to land on the floor at his feet as he was standing too far away, and then slammed the door behind you on your way out.

Gamora came the rest of the way down the stairs to inspect Peter's shoulder, seeing the blood on his shirt.

"It's fine," he assured, "It's hers, not mine. See, she didn't break skin." He pulled back his shirt to prove it. "I think I accidentally broke her nose though. That's what started it."

Gamora looked at him in confusion. "You broke her nose?! What the hell, Peter!"

"It was an accident!" he said again.

Gamora took a step back. "Ok. Tell me what happened. Start from the beginning."

"Well, we were all drinking-"

Gamora threw up her hands. "Oh, well that explains everything!" she interrupted bitterly. Dumb stuff almost always seemed to happen when those guys and alcohol mixed.

Rocket spoke up. "You were drinking and didn't invite us? Rude."

Gamora threw him an unamused look. "Not the point, Rocket."

Peter tried again. He explained he and Kraglin joined you and Yondu drinking, you got up to use the bathroom, he and Kraglin started horsing around, and one thing lead to another until he fell back against the door as you were coming out of the bathroom and it must have hit you and pissed you off.

Gamora looked at him. So it really had just been a big drunken accident. She also then realized Drax had not only just threw their host out of their own house, but threw you out while you were also drunk, broken and bleeding.

They were sooo getting kicked out.

"We should call her back in." said Gamora. "You shouldn't have thrown her out, Drax. This is her home. We're only guests."

Drax looked confused. "Why? It worked with Rocket. I thought I was helping?"

"Don't bother trying," said Yondu nonchalantly. "Bet she's already well into the forest by now."

They looked at him. "How would you know that?" Gamora asked.

He shrugged. "It's where she went the other night she got mad. Saw her heading there out the window when Rat there destroyed the kitchen and ruined diner." He left out the bit that he'd also seen you head there in the middle of the night too. He was saving that bit of mystery for himself to solve.

Rocket just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms at being called out for his past grievances. It got cleaned, didn't it?

"I'm sure she'll come back when she's ready," Yondu added. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't tempted to go look for you, if for no other reason than to see where you kept going to out there, but he had a feeling that if you didn't want to be found, he wouldn't find you. He might have some experience tracking, but he couldn't also forget what you did for a living. While he might not know much about what your job entailed, he got the feeling you weren't just some desk-jocky.

Besides, if you found your way back, drunk, the other night, he was sure you could do it again.

Begrudgingly Gamora agreed to wait.

And wait they did.

#gotg #guardians of the galaxy #x reader #yondu udonta #peter quill #kraglin obfonteri #Groot #Drax #rocket raccoon #mantis #gamora #star lord #drinking #fighting #mystery #room mates

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

sukirichi’s 2.4k milestone event

weee another milestone and nooo i couldn’t wait for 2.5k because i’m so excited and happy, thank you so much! ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ including HAIKYUU this time around yeeeee! also i don’t have a restaurant aesthetic anymore, just kind of goofing around now! REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

before you request...

please read about my writings first! it will include the stuff i write and don’t write about. i’m more flexible in nsfw works, so if you really want to try for a kink, just send me in and if the idea is up to my liking, we’ll see how it goes!

please be patient and nice! if i don’t like the tone of your request or if you’re ‘demanding’ me, aka, “hey, write this for me, this concept...” your ask will immediately be deleted!

no requesting of the same idea to other writers please!

please keep in mind i don’t do too much canon-heavy plots, aka really specific canon events and how they lead up to one another. i don’t read the manga for both jjk and haikyuu ʕっ• ᴥ • ʔっ

I do not do headcanons anymore. I’m not good at them LMAO.

i feel a lot more laid back in my writings now, so i’ll only be taking requests that i want to write for! the accepted requests will be listed down below as i organize them

you may refer to my first milestone event if you want more ideas for AU requests! you no longer need to include the numbers/spices/ingredients format used in that. just send whatever idea you want ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ

I HAVE SOMETHING TO TELL YOU. whichever idea i love the MOST will be turned into a series just because I want to try new things hehe!

— characters i can write anything for (nsfw & sfw)

: gojo satoru, fushiguro megumi, fushiguro toji, choso, ryoumen sukuna, nanami kento

: suna rintarou, kageyama tobio, tsukishima kei, miya twins, kita shinsuke, oikawa tooru, ushijima wakatoshi, bokuto koutarou, akaashi keiji, tetsuro kuroo

— characters i can only write sfw for

: itadori yuuji, inumaki toge, okkotsu yuuta

: kenma kozume

— characters i’m MOST eager to write simp for

: fushiguro megumi, choso, naoya zenin, ryoumen sukuna, gojo satoru

: suna rintarou, kageyama tobio, kita shinsuke, oikawa tooru, akaashi keiji

accepted requests: (only accepting the ones that interest me for now!)

favorites marked as ⭐

RYOUMEN SUKUNA: hello love!! i know it LITERALLY just came out but would you consider a pt 2 or a drabble for sweet lies? where megumi either catches her and sukuna or she genuinely starts moving on uasdfghj i'm convinced that megumi heard her fucking sukuna in the bathroom <3 anyways pls feel free to ignore me too

RYOUMEN SUKUNA: Ma’am , i beg of u ,,, spare husband! sukuna x wife! reader drabble. I just read your arranged marriage AU and lordddd i’m obsessed. How long did it take for him to take her virginity 😳? i’m so curious as to how that went down read here: black magic [02]

⭐⭐ RYOUMEN SUKUNA: Yooooo how about Rockstar Sukuna seducing his manager ehehehehe~

⭐ RYOUMEN SUKUNA: Ok but... pirate captain Sukuna 👀👀👀 I’m havin some Thots ngl 🥵🤤 I can’t decide whether reader should be the first mate and they’re a kickass Power Couple 💪😎or if she should be a stowaway who gets found out and has to pay for her passage with her body 😩😉

OKKOTSU YUTA: We both be weak for yuuta and toge😩 congrats 2.4k btw. so i'll request that for the event! poly!yuuta and toge. i see that you only write sfw for them so fluff. u can think of anything you want for it..and yes we simp for both of them i love them sm🤧

⭐ OKKOTSU YUTA: Hi saw that your request are open and congrats for the 2.4k !! 🎊 if possible can i please request yuuta having a girlfriend that's his childhood friend? (So like instead of rika it's y/n and she doesn't die) that loves to dote on him cause that boy needs some love. Thank you!! <3 | kiss me more

⭐ OKKOTSU YUTA: Hi can i request a scenario in which inumaki and okkotsu gets hit with a curse(?) That makes them a clone but the clone is a kid and seeing their gf taking care of the baby please thank youuu

INUMAKI TOGE: Toge's S/O being so sad that even when he says "smile" it doesn't work( also saw that in TikTok)

⭐ INUMAKI TOGE: Hi can i request a scenario in which inumaki and okkotsu gets hit with a curse(?) That makes them a clone but the clone is a kid and seeing their gf taking care of the baby please thank youuu

INUMAKI TOGE: We both be weak for yuuta and toge😩 congrats 2.4k btw. so i'll request that for the event! poly!yuuta and toge. i see that you only write sfw for them so fluff. u can think of anything you want for it..and yes we simp for both of them i love them sm🤧

⭐ INUMAKI TOGE: Hi! Congrats on 2.4k!!🤩 For the event, may I request an au where reader is Yuuta's sister? Can be gn/fem reader anything is fine. And they fall in love with Toge? Fluff fluff fluff please🥺Maybe they meet one day when she went to visit the school? Or she's a new sorcerer. Aahhhh I can't think of anything so I'll leave it up to your wonderful mind😌 Thank you! And again congrats! | crush

INUMAKI TOGE: SUKI OMG SIREN AU WITH TOGE AND DEAF READERHis voice hypnotizes all who hear it but she’s unaffected and he’s shook lmao 😂 She teaches him human sign language so they can communicate 🥺 maybe when he realizes he likes her he brings her seashells and other shiny things from the sea floor and it’s so cute 🥰 just 🥺🥺 siren Toge 🥺🥺🥺 (DEBATING)

GOJO SATORU: Hello dear Suki! 🤗 congrats on your more than deserved milestone 👏🏼🥳 I know it’s not the restaurant aesthetic anymore but still, thank you for being a Michelin-star chef spoiling the fandom with your food 🤤👀 I’d love to request the following: ingredient 66 with sugar 8 & 9 and Gojou as cherry on top 🥰 some heavy angst with a happy / smutty ending. additional 🍪 for inspiration - „Best friends don’t look at each other the way you look at her. You never know what will happen, tomorrow might be too late“. Have a lovely day dear 💕

GOJO SATORU: Congrats on 2.4K!!!! May I please request a fic where the reader has like. Zero reaction to Gojo? And he’s kinda shook bc people either adore him or hate him, but here’s reader acting like he’s just a normal dude. And he starts falling for her bc he’s never experienced that before

⭐ GOJO SATORU: a reader that likes Gojo but immediately says N O P E bc they clock that he’s at risk of breaking their heart so they just try to avoid getting close to him despite being a teacher stuck with him a lot of the time. And Gojo is just like ??? But I like you??? Why are you always avoiding me? “I’m tired of you acting like I can’t commit to something. Committing to you is easy.”

⭐ GOJO SATORU: ♡Soft nsfw scenario with s/o and gojo while outside is snowing read here: cold

⭐ GOJO SATORU: Ohoho~ another milestone! Congrats~Can I get Vampire!Satoru x Monster Hunter!Reader where he “proves” to her that all of his victims came willingly(I think from the AU choice you’ll know exactly who I am lol 😉)

⭐ GOJO SATORU: hello! first and foremost, congratulations on reaching 2.4k! i love your writing and its just oh my goodness <3 your stories made my heart squeezed! second of all, i'd like to propose a request for a story. fluff/angst (up to you! your way of writing is just superb) mixed with nsfw gojo satoru. a modern business tycoon au where he just lost his wife and is overprotective of his 1 year old toddler. you're his new staff in the office and is treated badly bcs you know, new staff. one day, you stumbled upon your boss and his baby in a shop, who wont stop crying and he took an interest in you when you managed to calm his kid down. he hired you as his babysitter + made you move into his estate. from there, your life changed! also, thank you for accompanying my days with your stories, it's marvelous! 💕

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ NAOYA ZENIN MY BAE: okay i thought you might like this idea for the event (or maybe not lol) - naoya coming home to his beloved little housewife and feels like giving her a treat for being such a good girl.,,.,, read: man's gonna re-arrange your guts and have some soft moments with you after (not that he would ever admit that shsghshsj) ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ | good girl

NAOYA ZENIN MY BAE: Stage magician Naoya and his cute little assistant, where every other trick works to undress or strategically rip her outfit so he can show off his little bunny to the crowd before fucking her brainless backstage

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ NAOYA ZENIN MY BAE: listen ,,,,, ur naoya hate fic goes crazy stupid may i add something. naoya being overprotective like reader is so pretty and many of the clan men look at them a lottttt and naoya out of nowhere will kiss you in front of them or will grab them in front the maids and workers. then reader becomes mad and they get into an argument and then hate fuck :D lmaoo (THIS REQUEST PLEASEEEE SEND ME TO HEAVEN) ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ NAOYA ZENIN MY BAE: Omg Suki! Congrats on the 2.4k! So uhmm I decided to take a break from the Kita/Naoya twin au angst 👉👈 idk if you are still accepting requests but HAS ANYONE EVER MENTIONED OR HAVE YOU EVER CONSIDERED SUGAR DADDY NAOYA????? 🥺 -🌸

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI: Megumi being insecure about his eyes because they are a very light green colour( like in manga) so he wears blue contacts( I saw that on TikTok and... big brain energy)

⭐ FUSHIGURO MEGUMI: SUKI, HI! First of all, congrats on 2.4K you absolutely deserve every single milestone coming your way 💞💞If it’s not too much to ask may I request a one-shot with megumi where he’s jealous that his fem!crush is spending more time with Itadori and sees how she enjoys his company a lot but it’s purely platonic? Reader likes megumi too and they both need that push in the right direction?Thanks so much if you decide to write this 🥺💖 I seriously love your writing and your big brain sm

CHOSO: Could you write something with Choso and the reader that has a toxic mother (if that actually exists. She controls everything the reader does, and plays with her mind/ feelings making her feel like she's the bad one)?But after a fight with the mom, the reader has enough and just leaves deciding they will finally do what they want, ending up at a tattoo shop, where Choso is the tattoo artist.Ngl, i'd like this to be nsfw because i am thirsting for this man ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)Don't really have kink preferences but if you could include size and breeding kink then i'd be hella thankful ☺

GETOU SUGURU: Yo how about a Victorian AU with Gentleman Thief!Getou and Debutante!Reader nsfw 👀👀 maybe she hears something in the dark and goes to investigate and gets pressed to the wall with a knife at her throat 👀🥵

FUSHIGURO TOJI: can we get a part two of the "lessons learned" toji fic 👉🏽👈🏽 maybe him fucking and overstimulating her so hard she cries and begs for mercy but no mercy will be given. maybe he uses the same handcuffs she used for him on her 🥰 maybe some manhandling cause im a hoe for letting a man throw me around

⭐ KAGEYAMA TOBIO (fckin finally): kageyama tobio x reader fic for mutual virginity loss? maybe they just haven’t had time with him being a fancy schmancy volleyball player, maybe there’s just nerves, i don’t know! i’ll leave it up to u babe <3

⭐ SUNA RINTARO: hi!! congrats on the 2.4k HEHE just wanted to request a suna and tattoo/flower shop au? idk just the thought of tattooed suna is like. mm yes

⭐ SUNA RINTARO/AKAASHI KEIJI: hi suki!! i’m so excited for your event! so i rarely ever see someone else who loves both akaashi and suna so i was wondering if you could write something for them! maybe apocalypse au?? or roommate au?? i was thinking y/n could have a relationship/be fuck buddies with one of them and some smutty exhibitionism happens with the other watching, and then some pining that ends in a threesome if you write those! if not, then just a smutty n filthy little love triangle that you can choose an ending for lol (a happy one would be nice bc my heart can only handle so much angst, but really it’s up to you and what inspires you!!) tysm for doing this event and always working so hard <3

⭐ OIKAWA TOORU: hi i love your writing!! can i please request work au (boss oikawa x secretary fem reader?) with degradation and him fucking your in the window 😭💗💗

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu #gojo satoru #fushiguro megumi #ryoumen sukuna #uhh im lazy #to tag #THANK YOU FOR THE MILESTONE <3 #sukirichi #suki: 2.4k milestone event

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the-nysh · 3 years

Note

Hey! I just wanted to say that I love your writings and character analysis! :D. Do you have more examples of garou being an empath?

Oh! 😳 Thank you, ah you probably saw some of those recent posts about it, yeah? :O Are you looking for more story examples or older posts previously written more in depth? Cause I think this one went into most detail before, but also oddly enough, I don’t think I’ve ever used that precise term (diagnosis?) for him either, hmm mainly because I’m no clinical expert he most often practices avoidance - both with his feelings and in forming relationships with others, in favor of focusing on his goals instead. (Familiarly, he’s that lone wolf introvert who isolates himself out of having to deal with such socially difficult situations.)

So other than Tareo, we haven’t really seen him...allow himself many other opportunities to empathize or connect with others yet (even when he has the potential & capacity for it, which I feel Garou has some of what Bang lacks and needs most to improve his teaching method, in that regard). Also because whenever he finds himself caring too much (like about Bang, whom he still closely emulates, so you can interpret Garou’s ‘absorbency’ trait as a symbolic manifestation or another side to him being an empath, heh :P) he gets pissed at himself for feeling that way, cause it interferes with his goals and how he thinks he should act & behave instead. :’)) So here he is, getting pissed whenever he runs across or experiences injustice (compelling him to act on emotion, instinct, or gut intuition which he can hastily misjudge), but then also getting pissed at himself when he doesn’t fully understand why he’s upset, or when he feels it goes against his ‘image of a monster,’ only to forcefully push those feelings aside and once again avoid thinking about them any further. Ohh!!! lol someone help him always suffering a cycle at conflict with his own feelings...

But! Saying all that, I feel the first instance that closely represents this, as part of his origins to show he was always empathetic like this, comes from when he stood up for the other kid getting hurt by Tacchan:

“That’s dangerous; I feel sorry for him!” Getting upset for the other kid’s pain (already knowing this game’s behavior is wrong for the violence inflicted & injustice suffered) and instantly stepping in to break it up. (Driven to help out only for the other kids to turn on him as the next easy target...)

This also ties into why he relates most to the fictional representations of monsters on tv; he sees himself in their shoes and sympathizes with their pain and situations too, so to speak. Not because they’re ‘evil bad guys’ per se, but rather cause they’re the unpopular ‘outcasts’ like him, who have dreams and aspirations to live too, but get unfairly targeted, outnumbered, humiliated, and crushed underfoot by.....the representations of those preaching ‘justice’ (like Tacchan above). When what Garou clearly sees, feels, and takes from this, is the unbalanced injustice suffered by those in these designated ‘monster/villain’ roles instead. (Counterpoint: these fictional roles he saw in cartoons, or reenacted in games, were not accurate to real monsters & heroes, but that’s Garou’s other struggle he comes to realize as he experiences more of the real world...) Another way of looking at it: when the favored/popular/strong group deems another marginalized group as ‘bad’ or undesirable, it absolves them of any guilt and their capacity & kindness to care, giving them the freedom to enact violence on them (ie bully the weak) without shame. For ex: ‘oh you’re a [insert any dehumanizing label here] monster? Prepare to be dogpiled and eliminated in the name of performative justice! :3′ I’m getting ahead of myself, but does this not ring a bell to anyone familiar with online cult movements? Which is precisely the unjust behavior Garou hates.

So another instance of him stepping in to inadvertently help a stranger in distress, as another victim to what he hates seeing (with the excuse ~they just happened to be in his way~) was when he stomps over to break up a fight between an old man and a rowdy drunk outside the dine n dash restaurant. He could have ignored it, walked on by, or gone to another place to eat, but nooo; seeing this behavior still pissed him off enough to intervene and deescalate the fight by scaring off the aggressor.

With non-strangers, naturally we see most examples of Garou’s empathetic side with Tareo, cause Garou sees much of his bullied past-self in him, and he can’t help but care and react to his similarly felt distress even if Garou is very tsundere denying how much he cares; remember his ‘I didn’t come here to save you’ blatant lie line? Yeah; no one else made a beeline responding to Tareo’s cries for help, heh.

(As covered in the other posts you’ve seen) he sensed and understood why Tareo was upset without him even having to fully explain it. Since he empathized enough with that familiar frustration (peers messing with him) to step in and help out with advice. Which was a gracefully ineloquent way with words, but hey he tried the gesture actually calmed Tareo down and got him to stop crying. :’)

Likewise, later witnessing Tareo suffering from the bullies pissed him off for reasons Garou can directly relate to (they were even calling Tareo a monster!) so once again, he’s compelled to step in, break it up, and deescalate the behavior.....then waltz down there to check in with how Tareo’s doing.

Offering another “I feel sorry for you.” :’) Which he plays off as more detached pity before he whoaaa, quickly turns around to leave with a ‘tch, go home’ once Tareo speaks. :’D (Like he can’t emotionally handle facing this, even turning his back when Tareo thanks him for helping him twice now since the shed scene.) But, we know there’s empathy felt for Tareo getting picked on, which drove Garou to act and intervene on his behalf here, BECAUSE..!!! Look what drives that evidence home:

Ohoho...probably one of his biggest telling moments! 8′D Recognizing what’s on Darkshine’s face now (while rendered overpowered & unable to fight back)...is the same he remembers relating to in Tareo, cause it’s similarly what he’s felt and suffered before in his past! :O Ahhh!! Making him go ‘oshit, wait...NO,’ as he realizes this is what he hates; ‘this isn’t what I want to do or who I want to be,’ and forcefully stops himself (he breaks up his own fight) before soon barreling over as the pain and consequences of everything finally catch up to him.

So...! Based on his track record, and provided he’s not off on his lonesome anymore or unable to interact/socialize with anyone in the near future, then he’s highly likely to add on more examples of such moments. Especially whenever he witnesses what he hates seeing (similar cycles of what he’s felt in his past, attuned to the same injustice suffered by others that he’s already experienced himself) that he can’t help but intervene & act on their behalf. Even when it gets emotionally overwhelming (for him to get upset with himself and want to avoid it as much as possible) or in direct contrast to the person (ie closed-off ‘monster’) he’s trying to be, ever at conflict with the inner empathetic kid he always was. :’)

#opm #garou #meta #Anonymous #replies #long post #yohoho it's a good and interesting interpretation of him so i couldn't help but indulge #(and once again this gets way longer than i intended aaaa)

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bellamybellamyblake · 3 years

Text

Six Years (Part 3)

Pairing:

Past/Eventual Bellamy Blake x Fem!Kane!Reader, Platonic!Octavia Blake

Summary:

Octavia knew who she was now, but you couldn’t figure out what the hell you’d become.

Warning:

so much mf angst, themes of addiction and depression, self-destructive behavior and a tiny bit of comfort in there

Word Count:

2k (i got a little ~carried away~ lol)

A/N:

IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. i wasn’t happy with the og thing i had down so i literally just rewrote the whole thing in a few hours and it’s sm better than it would’ve been. me holding off posting this did wonders and i’m more confident in it too even tho i kinda think i suck at writing but also kinda don’t idk my self esteem varies wildly

Merry Christmas Eve Eve to those who celebrate ❤️

the gif (and all the other ones) are not mine and i take no credit for them

if you want to be tagged in any of my works, send me a message or an ask and i’ll add you :)

@shipshipshipau

The girl with aqua eyes - although now they were more of a spotted gray - had only seen one moment of weakness from you. It would be the last time Octavia had seen you, and you, her.

“We’re surviving!” She had started shouting, as if she believed that set in a lower tone, her words would be construed as lies. “The human race is surviving! That’s what matters!”

“He wouldn’t be okay with this, and you know it!” Your voice broke involuntarily as it rose to match hers. You shook your head as you tried to desperately stop the ache in your chest as you brought her - probably dead - brother up. Tears clung to your eyelashes, waiting for you to blink so they had permission to fall. Your throat had been closed for a while now, and the rest was merely a weak cry. “If this is the price that we have to pay...maybe we shouldn’t be.”

You’d never know if it was the crack in your demeanor or your choice of words, but either way, her eyes softened when you spoke.

“Look at me.” You did as told and she gripped the back of your neck in one hand, pulling your forehead so close it almost came into contact with hers.

The air changed as Octavia came alive under the monster she wore for armor. Her mask coming off allowed you to let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. You would begin to regret not smashing the helmet to bits while it was off and vulnerable.

“You have to stop listening to them,” She said. “It’ll tear you apart. It’s better they get to live to hate us than die slowly and love us-”

“They don’t deserve this either, O-”

“We bare it, so they don’t have to. You’re the one that told me that. You can’t back out on me, now. I can’t do this without you.”

For so long you were okay with her needing you to do the dirty work. Besides the first time - when you did it together - she’d give the sentence and you’d see it through. Every single time, it felt like it was killing you more than them, but that didn’t matter, did it? If you weren’t going to do it, who would?

It was the last thing Octavia had asked of you and you had no intention of letting her down.

Bellamy didn’t know what he would see when they finally dropped him down into the bunker, but it definitely wasn’t that. Surrounded by more death than he was prepared for, he couldn’t help himself to not move his gaze around the arena. The fences between him and the living reminded him of the cages the Mountain Men held him in. The walls were stained deep with crimson, leaving the dull concrete behind it unrecognizable. He looked to the blonde at his side, and they asked each other the same silent question:

What the hell happened down here?

His whiskey shaded orbs kept moving, albeit reluctantly. They stopped on Marcus Kane, who looked so much older than last time. His hair and beard were inches longer and grayer than the natural brown he used to have. He was so pale, it was unnerving - almost as if he was close to death. They connected eyes briefly and that’s when the younger saw the deadly weapon held to his neck by the hands of-

No.

Your back was facing him, but it didn’t matter how long it had been, he’d never miss you. The locks that adorned your head were longer too, almost to your waist. The natural shade was faded though, like you had aged twenty years instead of six. He watched your shoulders heave and your hands start to shake as Kane talked to you.

He couldn’t pull his eyes from the impure red that dyed your skin and clothes.

While you were distracted, he chose to act, protecting Marcus from his own flesh and blood. He didn’t miss the gears in your head turning as your gaze landed on him. He saw your eyes sink into a trance of recognition and a deep sort of longing overtook your senses. The melancholic need you had tried to numb for half a decade came back in full force and held no mercy.

You remembered how he always smelled of the forest after the sky wept. You remembered how sure but gentle his touch was on your skin. You remembered how his remarkably soft lips would feel when they pushed against yours as they begged for more at every turn. You remembered how it felt to be wrapped in his arms, listening to his heart thump as he assured you everything would be alright, even if he didn’t think it would be.

Was that gone forever, now, too?

Bellamy noticed something else, though; something he didn’t recognize. Something he’d never seen before.

Something that scared him.

It had been hours since and neither of you had bothered to find the other. Getting everyone out was a great distraction for him. Talking to his little sister, whose eyes seemed to hold the same thing yours did, was another. She had explained to him and Clarke that Wonkru had deemed her Bloodreina and you, Ripa. So, no, nothing as special as death from above or the red queen or the commander of death, but death, nonetheless.

People have done well not to forget that.

When Clarke told him you still hadn’t come out and no one had seen you, however, he didn’t have a choice anymore.

The halls were those of nightmares, spirits lurking around every corner and it was cold and empty. He knew the lights were kept low to save power but it felt almost purposeful, like they were meant to scare you. To tell you not to act out or some kind of monster would jump from the shadows and make you pay.

But he didn’t know if it was you or his sister.

A chill slithered up his spine.

If someone told him this wasn’t real, he’d do anything he could to believe them. He wished that he was seconds away from being shaken awake by Raven or Monty, and they would tell him it was just another nightmare. He wished he was still on the Ring, praying ignorantly to anyone that would listen that his family on earth were still okay.

Breaking him from his thoughts, a yellow lamplight caught his attention. At the end of the windowless corridor, it shone out of a slightly ajar door. Using every ounce of strength he possessed to not walk away, he pushed it open. It cried at the motion, diminishing any and all remnants of silence that swallowed the floor.

His eyes found you catching yourself from falling caused by a failed attempt at standing. A half empty bottle of whatever works in one hand, the other one holding you up against the bed frame. The high-pitched creak pulled your attention to the front of the room with a furrowed brow and he allowed himself to take in your appearance.

A wrinkled, cotton shirt sat on your chest and it was a different one than before; faded white and thin, yet cleaner than the other one which was colored with blood. Your hair was damp - the result of taking a shower - but lazily tied back in a half-assed effort to get it out of your face.

You stared at each other for a minute. A million things were hitting your slow-moving thoughts at once, too much for you to even try to comprehend. He finally took one step towards you, parting his lips to say something but no sound came out. He was stumped, hundreds of words flooded his mind but not a single one sounded good enough.

Nothing he could say would make what happened in the arena okay.

It was unbearably painful. There he was, finally right in front of you, and you had no idea what to talk about. No idea what to start with, end with, bring up, discuss, laugh about, cry about, scream about. Nothing was good enough to say to the man that kept you alive for such a long time, such a long time ago.

Too long ago.

You inevitably broke the silence, though your words came out cracked and in a slur. A defensive and humorless scoff left your lips, an effort to cover up the discomfort. Or it was because you were too drunk to shut yourself up. “You gonna say somethin’?”

“I don’t know what to say.”

You didn’t know why, but you hoped he’d sound different. It was childish and irrational, but you hoped that you could say you both changed too much and he would have nothing to hold against you.

Because no matter how far away it seemed, sometimes you could still remember what it felt like to be that innocent seventeen-year-old that hadn’t lived yet; what it felt like to be that girl who still couldn’t stand her father. To be that girl who sprained her ankle within ten minutes of being on earth for the first time. To be that girl who hadn’t made a friend aside from Clarke and Wells in her whole life. That girl who had just kissed a boy for the first time.

The girl who was loved and not lost yet.

“Well, that makes two of us.”

Where the hell did she go?

That made the room spin, and you had to blink a few times to make it stop, taking a seat on the thin mattress. You took a drink, making the liquid slosh from the base to the neck of the bottle and back again. When it settled, you rested your head between your shoulders as you heard him say your name. It bounced off the walls in the room, hitting each one again, and again, and again like it was a bullet waiting to find its target. You had wanted the word to fall from his lips for so long that you’d forgotten what it sounded like. You had forgotten what he sounded like, and you fucking hated yourself for it.

Then you realized he said, “Ripa,” and those four deadly little letters crushed your throat and stole the air from your lungs.

That name hadn’t felt right from the start, but it was what you had been simultaneously promoted to and reduced by. The only person who refused to call you that over the years, was your father. For two thousand days, he made sure to steer clear of it.

That’s not who you are and I know it, even if you don’t.

A sudden and hauntingly raw sob escaped, and you knew his eyes were on you in an instant.

“Don’t call me that,” You begged, meeting his gaze for the first time since he entered. Breath picking up, you were practically terror-stricken at the idea that all you were to him now was a murderer. You vigorously tried to shake the thought away, squeezing your eyes shut as everything that kept you numb seemed to vanish into thin air. “Y-You can’t-Not you too. Please, not you.”

Bellamy’s hand brushed your cheek and tears rained freely. You immediately leaned into the familiar and delicate warmth and you really fucking hoped this wasn’t your mind playing a trick on you.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” When he spoke this time, his words sounded choked too. His other hand cradled the back of your head as he pulled you into his chest and just...held you. “It’s okay.”

It was like you were standing at the edge of a building, teetering the edge before accidentally falling. Only, before you could plummet to your death, someone caught your hand, and it occurred to you that you really wanted them to pull you back up.

“Please don’t leave me again.”

Your voice was just so, so weak. Beaten down and broken.

“Never.” He said it with so much confidence and finality, you almost had to convince yourself it was real and not a dream. “I promise.”

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iron-sides · 3 years

Text

one shot draft one lol im scrapping it but i dont wanna delete it forever

lolz eret's betrayal for the tell me the name of god au feat me doing everythng in my power to avoid writing fight scenes bc idk how kuhgj4recd

“Where are the rest of you, Spawn of Herobrine?” The first pillager speaks, its voice a rumbling growl.

“Will you promise my safety if I tell you?”

“If I say yes…”

“It was never meant to be, I suppose. They’re at the park on Stockdale. They were getting food while I scouted ahead.” Eret doesn’t wait for a response before ducking under the pillager the moment she’s released. She makes a break for it.

The_Eret runs for where she knows the entrance to the camp is, and she doesn’t look back.

scene change wow

Wilbur glances up at the rustling, watchful- always watchful- but he’s feeding the baby right now and he doesn’t really have the free hands to kill a skeleton at the moment.

It’s not a skeleton. He shouts, and the younger boys- because they’re all young, they’re so young, but Tommy and Tubbo are younger than he is, and he has to keep them safe- run back to where he is from the playground they’d been running around on. They jog up to him, they haven’t noticed the pillager group yet- hopefully, the pillagers haven’t noticed them. Tommy protests when he gives Fundy to Tubbo but quiets when he’s given the bottle.

“Don’t look behind me, but there are some monsters coming,” he tells them. “I need you to run and hide in that bush,” (He points to a bush a little way- it’s thick but hollow, he looked when they first arrived.) “and feed the baby. You are not-” and here he glares at Tommy- “to try to fight unless you are attacked in the bush. If you are attacked, use this.”

Tommy glares at him, but obeys. God. He’s going to completely ignore that, isn’t he? Wilbur thinks, before steeling himself and turning. There are at least five pillagers, and one of him-- Eret’s not back yet. He draws his bow, and takes a deep breath before firing- and he misses. Shit. Shit! They’ve pulled out their crossbows now, which will slow them down but- he feels the rush of air beside his face and doesn’t look at the arrow he knows is in the tree behind him. If they’re going to be firing he’s got to get them away from the kids. He races around so that the Pillagers are to his side and he’s facing Tommy and Tubbo’s bush- and he can see there is only one seven-year-old in the bush.

Wooooo new pov for a bit wowee gee whiz

Tommyinnit is a Big Man (words capitalized to indicate importance) and he will not stand by while Wilbur fights this battle alone. Sure, he wet his pants a little bit when he saw, like, ten pillagers coming towards them, but he’s going to help Wilbur! He has to. He hands Tubbo Fundy’s bottle- the dumb little baby can’t even feed himself, and Tommy pretends to despise him for it rather than admit to being proud the baby trusts him enough to accept his help over Wilbur’s. Fundy always cries when Wilbur or Eret tries to feed him, it’s really funny. Maybe he trusts Tommy more because they’re closer to the same age? Anyway, he gives Tubso the bottle.

“Stay here,” he whispers, “I’m gonna go help Big Dubs.” He leaves before giving Tubbo the chance to argue. He crouches out from under the bush, and runs at the pillagers, taking his knife out as he goes. Mom, he thinks to himself, whover you are, please let this work. He shouts, drawing the pillagers’ attention. This is good! This is what he wanted, now Wilbur can get close and snipe them! There is nothing scary at all about having like fifteen pillagers aggroed on him!

Wow its wilburs pov again why do i keep changing povs lmao im gonna have to like. Make it less jarring or smth. Cos i'm thinking of this in like movie imagery terms and like. Idk how well going from one pov to another Works in writignfkd

Wilbur knows Tommy is the reason he’s able to shoot at the pillagers without them killing him, but that doesn’t mean he approves of this. Either way, he’s not going to be able to shout at him if he can’t pick off the pillagers before they-- hurt him. Tommy will come out of this alright Tommy has to come out of this alright. Wilbur doesn’t think he could ever forgive himself if Tommy wasn’t okay at the end of this fight. He shoots pillager after pillager, and he’s-- he’s too late.

Big Man Tommyinnit is on the ground, on his stomach. He’s face first in the dirt, and now that Wilbur’s shot the last pillager he can see the blood. God, there’s so much blood.

“TUBBO,” he shouts, desperate, “TUBBO WE NEED TO GET TO THE CAMP NOW!”

Tubbo runs as fast as he can, considering he has the baby and his bag. He runs faster when he sees Tommy, cradled in Wilbur’s arms. Wilbur is already walking backwards- the pillagers had come from the direction of the camp and he could only pray to- whoever the hell his parent was. When Tubbo catches up to him, he takes a second to move Tommy to his back so he can take Fundy.

“I’m going to run these two to camp, I think it’s the best hope Tommy has for surviving. I need you to make your way there as quickly and safely as possible. Assume Eret is already there. I’ll come back to pick you up as soon as Tommy is in their care.”

#this is not edited at all iu5gj4rkhends #ill probably come back to this post and do it later but i wanted to get this posted before i forgot ugijtkrf #tell me the name of god au #my thots #pjo dsmp au #c tommy #c wilbur #c tubbo #c eret #dsmp #mcyt

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peterstanslizzie · 4 years

Text

Reacting To: Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts (Season 3 Episode 10)

This is it people! The series finale of Kipo; Let’s get to it.

Episode Title: Age of Wonderbeasts

Spoiler Warning: Kindly proceed if you’ve already seen the episode or are able to handle spoilers

Hopefully she’s getting dressed for her funeral lol

1. Continuing on from last episode, the fireworks rigged with the cure goes off and a bunch of embers start falling from the sky. One of the Humming Bombers got into contact with one of them while attempting to flee and immediately de-mutes. I thought the cure needed to go into their bloodstream? Unless, the ember actually burned through their skin. It that’s the case, wow that’s dark....

It’s awesome that Earl and Lily are helping Molly since Molly saved their children awhile back.

2. With her quick thinking, Kipo asks everyone to find shelter underneath her as she transforms into her Mega Jaguar form. However, that’s still not enough to protect everyone but luckily, the good humans step up to shield them with table cloths, which was heartwarming to see.

The mutes are thanking the humans for their act of kindness

OMG. Lio and Song hugging Scarlemagne? I’m here for it.

3. Thankfully, the fireworks ended and Kipo then pleads with Emilia one last time to stop what she’s doing. Emilia, hard-headed as ever isn’t one to back down at all and makes a drastic decision to inject herself with the mutagen she sourced from the Mega Walrus, transforming herself into one ugly Mega Mute.

Imagine seeing this in real life...shudders

4. I thought she was going to use the Mega Walrus’s DNA to make another cure that would affect Kipo. I didn’t think she would do this to herself. Kipo transforms back to her Mega form to take on Emilia before she could potentially hurt anyone.

How many Troyson kisses do we want? Yes...hehe

5. Troy and Benson are directing everyone back to find safety inside the old burrow while Wolf joins Kipo to assist her in battling Emilia. Kipo has the upper hand at first because Emilia isn’t used to being a Mega Mute. However, as the fight progresses, Emilia is starting to get better and is landing some solid hits on Kipo. But I feel like Kipo shouldn’t be losing to Emilia since she has much more experience fighting as a Mega. I guess they want us to feel like the stakes are high.

Man, this fight is actually pretty brutal. Emilia is whooping major jaguar ass here.

6. During the battle, Wolf notices Greta nearby and thinks that she has the cure to turn back Emilia into a human. So, hopefully they can steal the cure from Greta and use it as leverage to get Emilia to stop. They split up with Wolf going after Greta and Kipo continuing to fight off Emilia.

7. After taking a couple more punches, we see three of the Mega Dogs, the Mega Pigeon and the Mega Beaver heading their way towards the fight, with Jamack, Molly, Hoag, Amy, Zane, Label, Lio, Song, Scarlemagne, Dave, Benson and Mandu riding on them. I stan such supportive friends!

8. They each take turns kicking Emilia’s butt to buy Kipo some time to recover. Side note: It’s so cool that Jamack tells Emilia to do some “soul searching”! That’s literally the same line Kipo used on Jamack in Season 1 when he was an antagonist back then. During all of this, we see Emilia beginning to have some inner turmoil; It looks like she’s starting to lose herself in her current form.

9. We get to round 2 of Wolf vs Greta and it looks like the tables might turn in favor of Wolf but Greta is just too beefy for her to take on. While being held down in a pin, Wolf tries to butter her up with words by telling her that she’s not an idiot and she can think for herself, without the influence of Emilia. She also bribes her with all the pancakes she can eat if she hands over the cure to her and just like that, she agrees to hand it over. It’s so ironic that Greta is one of Emilia’s last followers but she’s so easily influenced to switch sides.

Again, I don’t get why Kipo is losing to Emilia so badly

10. Kipo is down for the count and Emilia turns her attention to her friends/family. As she’s about to crush Lio and Song, Kipo charges in last minute to take the devastating blow for them; She then falls unconscious. However, Emilia’s not done yet.

Scarlemagne’s death in 3...2...1

11. Oh no...here we go. Scarlemagne decides to play hero by making his attempt at saving Kipo. He basically gives his swan song to Lio and Song. I have a bad feeling he’s going to die and I’m not at all prepared to watch. He takes off on his favorite Flamingo vehicle from Season 1 and 2 and flies towards Emilia to distract her.

We haven’t heard this laugh in ages. Also, did anyone get chills when he tells Emilia to “leave her sister alone”?

12. He crashes his vehicle into Emilia causing her to lose focus and it sets off her ‘losing herself to the mega mute’ phase. This in turn, causes Scarlemagne to crash land somewhere in Skyscraper Ridge. Was it necessary for him to crash like that? If that’s the way he goes out, I’m gonna be honest here and say I would be very disappointed with that.

13. Emilia, who clearly is out of it runs off somewhere and Kipo, Wolf, Dave, Benson and Mandu all go after her with Lio and Song heading towards where Hugo/Scarlemagne crash landed. We then see the artistic representation of Emilia losing her mind to the mute, where her human form is quickly sinking deeper and deeper into the ocean.

14. They catch up to Emilia and they could see her being distraught. We also know the reason why she’s this way and it’s because she doesn’t have an anchor. I love it how whatever explanation we’re being told by the characters is something that the audience should know based on past episodes. Now that’s good storytelling.

15. Anyways, Kipo makes the decision to cure her because she thinks she doesn’t deserve to be punished this way. Really now? After all that she’s done? Maybe what Kipo means is that she deserves get whopped in her human form lol. After curing her, Kipo makes ANOTHER ATTEMPT (for the 3rd time) to convince her to make a change but of course this bitch isn’t going to change; She takes a shard of glass and tries to stab Kipo:

16. But our girl, Mandu quickly reacts and bites Emilia’s arm. She then loses her balance and falls stories high in the exact burrow her lab was located because we then see Fun Gus capturing her and taking her in as her “playdate”. Emilia is basically history.

17. Yesss! And this punishment is fitting since she will probably be Fun Gus’s plaything till she goes insane and dies. Not to mention she despises mutes. So, it’s a great way for her to go out. Bye!!! That’s what you get for killing your brother, you heartless monster. Can I also point out that once again, Mandu is the one to take out Emilia. She did beat her in season 2 when Wolf, Dave and Benson couldn’t and now in season 3, she’s the one to finish the job. Don’t mess with Mandu lol.

18. They head back to find where Scarlemagne, Lio and Song are but it’s almost too late because Hugo is dying. Kipo is in tears and I’m in tears too. Again, was it really necessary to kill him off? I felt like he’s more or less already redeemed as a character before this. He didn’t have to commit such a heroic act, which had cost his life. Ugh....And just like that, Hugo dies.....UGHHHHHH. I really don’t think he needed to die. If Catra (who committed just as many heinous acts, if not more than Hugo) got to live in She-Ra & The Princesses of Power, Hugo deserves to live too. I’m sorry...

19. Now it’s time for the epilogue set 5 years later, as told by an older Kipo. Let’s break it down:

Wolf’s Mega Corgi gave birth to a litter of puppies. Awww cuteness...

Wolf let her hair grow out and she looks AMAZING!!! Dayummmm

Benson and Troy own a successful restaurant together and they’re living the dream. Such domestic goals!

I got chills seeing Wolf and Benson walking side by side like that. They’ve grown up so much. It looks like they’re own their way to a picnic

Label and Zane is also running a gym together. Sweet!

Jamack is conductor for Las Vistas’s new transport system.

Dave is now a guest lecturer at what is seems to be Lio and Song’s new research lab, where he talks about some of his research findings and theories. Well, mostly theories.

I love Kipo’s new do’

20. We find out that Kipo is updating Hugo (spiritually) what has everybody been up to on his birthday.

Hugo gets a statue made in his honor, which is very fitting and Mandu...WOW MANDU has grown into an ADULT boar, with tusks and everything just like Bornak and Webber.

21. Kipo meets up with her besties and her family and they have their wonderful picnic in commemoration of Hugo’s birthday.

22. The scene cuts off to all of them having the time of their life riding on their Mega mutes. And that’s the official ending to the series. TEARS...

23. This has been an amazing show to watch, react and review. I can’t believe it only had 30 episodes but the story was so cohesive and felt complete on the most part. So you could say that this show wrapped up nicely. There are some loose ends that weren’t addressed/resolved at the end like the vaccine that Song and Lio were working on but I guess that could be something that’s explored further in future films hopefully.

24. I will also be making a couple of video essays that will be posted to my YouTube channel, PeterSaidWhat; The first one will be my full spoiler review of the final season and the second video will be Troyson-focused. I can’t wait for all of you to watch them. And finally, I want to thank you all for reading my episodic reviews and going on this incredible journey with me. It’s been a pleasure to have Kipo be a part of my life and I’m sure yours as well.

Much love,

Peter

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taergalive · 3 years

Text

Taerga watches someone play BG3 Early Access so she can finally get context

Here are my thoughts.

(Please keep in mind the only experience I have with Badlur’s Gate is the 40 minutes I’ve played Dark Alliance back when I was like 11 years old (I stopped playing because I couldn’t find a good outfit for the girl character. Legit). I’ve picked up that it’s based on D&D, which I’ve played before but really don’t have in depth knowledge of.)

Aw, the tadpoles are cute! I mean I don’t want them in my eye but like...I want them.

Dat character creation system

DAT CHARACTER CREATION SYSTEM

But it should have been before the cut scene. Really killed the mood lol

I like you, mysterious tentacle man. I mean you should stop what you’re doing, but ya a cool dude.

Ooh, little imps!

Oh, the character talks? That’s odd. Wasn’t expecting that.

OMG IT’S LIKE A POINT-AND-CLICK GAME I LOVE IT

Don’t touch brains.

I SAID DON’T TOUCH IT

Oh but I would suck at this combat system for sure. It’s Disgaea all over again.

At least kill the people losing their free will, ya dicks.

These guys reminds me of the Domz from Beyond Good and Evil.

Tentacle man sounds familiar

Aaaaand this person stopped playing after the beach so now I gotta find another video .

Shadowheart has such an adorable voice.

THERE’S MY MAN

That laugh seemed so forced, Astarion. But poor baby. “Of course it will turn me into a monster.” This guy can’t catch a break.

Wait, you can pick what your companions say sometimes? Strange.

Oh, because the player character was dead lol

RIP tentacle dude

WHY IT IS SO HARD TO FIND ONE PLAYTHROUGH OF THE WHOLE GAME third time’s the charm

Gale’s like “Hot damn, nice to meet you Shadowheart. And hello to no one else.”

Astarion either sleeps sitting up or he just meditates

I like that everyone can just use a bow.

You can just take an entire chest I love it

Very puzzley. Me like

You took a key and Astarion and Shadowheart just, like, passed out. lol

Oh this person fucked up with the traps

OMG GALE HAS VOICEMAIL FOR WHEN HE DIES WHAT THE FUCK

the traps are still going off as Voicemail Gale explains. I’m crying

Voicemail Gale, I’m not going to remember all this. I wasn’t listening.

“Repeat what I just said.” That’s what I make my students do. They hate it! XD

“I am dangerous dead.” That’s convenient for you, now isn’t it dude.

I would normally like a character like Gale, but he bothers me for some reason.

So much blood after fights. Astarion’s probably internally crying

Combat takes foreverrrrrr

Why are we in this church anyway?

I love you, Woodcorpse man

Okay bye Woodcorpse man nice talking to you

Shadowheart’s quest is called Daugther of Darkness and now I have Halestorm stuck in my head

Aw, just let Lae’zel out ya dick

THAT’S NOT A GOBLIN Oh those are just their pets nevermind

“THERE ARE CHILDREN HERE YOU FOOLS!” WHERE I WANNA SEE BABY TIEFLINGS

I love the Tieflings fire eyes? Like I would stare at them all day

“We’re messengers now?” Get used to it, Astarion. You’re traveling with the main character of an RPG

Oh the Druid are assholes

A BABY TIEFLING OMG

BABY TIEFLING NOOOOOO

No lady I’m not calling your snake a monster. I’m calling you a monster.

Oh cool ya just let a lady poison you good job

I like that the party just, like, don’t speak up about this either. Everyone is out for themselves lol

I think Astarion disapproves of taking the poison because, like, it’s admitting you might turn into a monster.

He seems very offended if you said you’d rather drink it than turn. Yeah, he’s definitely comparing it to being a spawn.

Ooh they spell whisky without the e. That means it’s Scottish!

Oof, the person I’m watching is not good with Astarion. Oh well lol let’s go find a monster hunter.

Now that I realize it, though, I’d be making a lot of the same choices and damn Astarion is gonna hate me

I was wondering when Wyll was going to show up

And that’s all I have the energy to watch for now.

#bg3 early access #baldur's gate 3 #Astarion #Shadowheart #Lae'zel #Gale #Wyll

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onthepageoftears · 4 years

Text

Hold Them Closer ~ Ch.8 [Jaskier x assassin!reader] || Witcher

A/N: hey yall, hope you’re doing well! enjoy the chapter (if you want to, lol) :)

Your kind words and reviews mean a lot to me, so please don’t afraid to leave a message/comment!

Summary: The search continues.

Warnings: mentions of killing/death/murder, language, slight fluff, dumbass jaskier

Words: 1,510

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

Your fingertips brushed the ground beneath you, letting your nails crust with the dirt that was dried under your feet. You always remembered this spot as being full of grass, sometimes so tall it reached your ankles — but now, the grass was dead. Dull. It was fitting, really, for the village that was now abandoned.

Still, being here in the lawn of your old home reminded you of the nights you and your father would lie down, grass under your toes, just looking at the sky above. It was so peaceful, but a bit daunting — you were always amazed by the vastness of the sky, by the possibilities that its space came with. Still, those would be the moments with your father that you carried with you, both with fondness and sadness. They haunted you in your dreams, but comforted you in your memories.

The faint memories of your father rose to your mind — in this early morning silence, you finally allowed yourself to think about the man you were told to hate. You never did truly hate him, despite what Rauf told you. Maybe part of you knew he was innocent all along — or maybe you just wanted him to be. But now that you knew your father had in fact been innocent, you felt yourself thinking about him more, as if a restriction had been lifted from your mind. And as you sat there in the lawn of your now broken down home, you closed your eyes, silently apologizing to the man you tried to hate for so many years.

You blinked your eyes open at the sound of Jaskier walking toward you, finally awake from a long night. You had woken up earlier than usual, mostly because you couldn’t sleep. Your mind was racing even after you realized your mother had gotten away. What did that mean for now? Could you really start hoping that you’d find her? Or would it lead to more dead ends?

Jaskier sat beside you on the dirt coated ground, grimacing at the fact that his pants would probably have stains.

You put your head on his shoulder, letting your heavy eyes shut, just for a moment. Though you didn’t mind being alone, having him there made you feel comfortable. Recently, it always did. Before you met him, it was like you were missing something. No matter where you went, or who you were with, everything was bit off. And now that he was there, with you — you didn’t know what it was, but it was enough. Maybe even more than enough.

“What now?” You asked after a moment, not only to Jaskier, but to yourself.

“I don’t know, love.” He huffed, looking at the rising sun past the trees. “The only thing we can do is search anywhere we can, and hope to come across her.”

You nodded, determination in your gaze. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

—

Saying goodbye to your village was easy. It wasn’t really even your village anymore — just another abandoned place stragglers could call home for the night. Your village was in your memories, and your home was with yourself. It was with the people you trusted, and that’s where it would always be.

Still, that was something you had to remind yourself of as the three of you ventured from village to village, both searching for your mother and for any jobs you could get (you were still pretty low on coin, and none of you wanted any incidents like the last). You weren’t fond of staying in one place for too long — though you were ready to prolong this journey if you had to, that didn’t mean you wanted to. Searching Velen was hard enough as it was, and you weren’t even sure if your mother would be there. The idea that she could be across the continent made your stomach practically seep through your ears, so you pushed it away.

She had to be in Velen. She just had to.

You were lucky to have Jaskier and Geralt with you. While sometimes you would swear on never traveling with them again, others you couldn’t imagine it without them. Geralt was sometimes as grumpy as you, but others he was the one holding the most hope. And Jaskier…well, he was Jaskier. Charming, funny, and a bit of a pain in the ass.

“My back feels like it could split in half right about now.”

You shook your head at the man beside you, leading the horses to the side of the path. “And how does your mouth feel?”

“Awful. When it’s not on yours.”

You rolled your eyes, but heat rose to your skin when you noticed Geralt just nearby. You weren’t used to Jaskier saying — or doing — such things in front of people, and he had respected that. But even he slipped up sometimes, and every time he did, it made your body buzz in a mix of excitement and embarrassment.

“We should get a job here, maybe stay the night.” Geralt said, his voice gruffer than usual.

Jaskier scoffed a laugh, “Oh, for once the witcher needs a break, hm?”

Geralt’s lips twitched. “We barely have coin left.”

“We, or just us?” Jaskier asked, his eyebrow arching in a challenge.

Geralt stared back. “We.”

“Oh.” Jaskier shut up then, a pout forming on his face.

You sighed. You didn’t want to stay the night; you were hoping you could at least check two other villages before the day ended. But no coin meant no food, and you all knew that wouldn’t do any good.

“Fine,” you said, petting Buttercup’s snout. “We’ll get the rooms if you find the job.”

Geralt nodded, ready to head off, but Jaskier stopped him. “Nuh-uh. The last few jobs Geralt has chosen have been — and I do not regret saying this — worse than a hag’s breath. Not to mention boring.” You and Geralt blinked at Jaskier, who scoffed at your dumbfounded expressions. “I mean, a sheep herding? Could you have chosen anything worse?”

You snorted. “It could’ve been another chicken search.”

Jaskier ignored you, wagging his finger at no one in particular. “We are going to find something that is exciting, adventurous — something that would make for a good song."

With that, Jaskier stalked off in search of the small village’s notice board, a new pep in his step at the idea of their next great job.

You and Geralt began walking down the path in search of the inn. After a few moments of silence, you spoke, “He’s right, Geralt. You have been choosing pretty mundane jobs. It’s no wonder we haven’t been paid any good coin.”

Geralt just barely nodded. “We don’t want to get into too much trouble if we are to continue our journey.”

You frowned at his words. You supposed he was right, but…then again — you smirked slowly, a teasing glint in your eye. “Are you worried about us?”

Geralt avoided your gaze.

You snorted. “You think I can’t handle a couple of monsters?”

“Monsters are different than humans.”

Your face grew grim. “Just by the blade you use.”

Geralt quirked a brow, but didn’t say anything. Before he could, the unmistakable sound of Jaskier made both of you frown.

“Geralt!”

You turned around, eyebrows raised at the bard who came running up to you, out of breath.

“What is it now, Jaskier?” Geralt sounded more than bored, but you yourself were intrigued.

Jaskier huffed as he tried to catch his breath. “I…got us…a job.”

You snorted. “And does this job include you running around like a maniac?”

“That’s only part of it.” Jaskier swallowed his sarcasm thickly, finally able to speak somewhat coherently. “I was standing at the notice board, looking through the posts — they were all quite boring, to be honest. But anyway, I was standing there, minding my business, when this woman came running up to me. She was erratic. Begging me for help, saying…something about a daughter that was on her way to a monster’s nest. She gave me this as…a deposit of sorts.”

He held out a pouch, placing it in your hand. It was relatively full, which was good. But you were still a bit confused. So what if this girl was going to a monster nest?

You handed the coin pouch to Geralt, who was just as confused as you. “Okay. Did she give you directions?”

“Yes, of course. But there is one thing.” Jaskier swallowed again, taking in a sharp breath before adding, “The girl is young and inexperienced.”

Your eyes widened, narrowing at the man in front of you. “The same girl that is going to a monster’s nest?”

Jaskier nodded, “Quite the same, yes.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt grumbled, already making his way back to the horses.

You huffed, grabbing Jaskier’s hand in your own before following the witcher. “Why didn’t you lead with that?”

“Good point.” He said as you hopped up on Buttercup and helped Jaskier behind you. And without a second thought, you were off.

———————————————————————————————————

ooo ooo ooooo a slight sidestep from the main journey, but it'll be worth it ;) Let me know your thoughts!

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morbidcorvids · 4 years

Note

I'd like to request Vampire/werewolf Shouta saving human Mic from a Vampire who was stalking him as either prey, or wanted to make Mic his mate. (Nothing out there or creepy, but depending how you describe the scene it can be). If you want something creepy, then how about Mic and Aizawa are exploring an abandon temple and Mic falls through the floor and not only lands on top of a rotted corpse that comes to life, but surrounded by spiders. (Maybe a giant spider Nomu if you wanna be mean to Mic.)

Loved your prompt! Sorry it took so long (midterms are horrible)! I hope you enjoy it!

I planned for prompts to be 500 words, but uh, yeah that didn’t happen and I definitely went above lol. This would also be included in AO3!

Title: Temple of Doom

“Are- are you sure about this, Shouta?” Hizashi stuttered, hugging himself to calm his fear as he entered the dilapidated gates.

“Well, we have no other choice, do we?” The raven-haired man answered as he took a step inside the rotting temple.

It was no mystery that this temple had been abandoned ages ago; leaving it to decay and succumb to Mother Nature. From Shouta’s research - it used to be a place where people would gather for religious ceremonies.

Many documents described rumors of strange, almost cult-like gatherings that even made Shouta feel uncomfortable. He kept this information secret from Hizashi who is easily frightened by disturbing stories of such kinds.

After all, they weren’t here to investigate such rumors of old, but to capture any villain that might have recently used this mortifying temple as a hiding spot.

As they passed through a narrow tunnel, all they could hear were their boots splashing against shallow puddles and the loud drops that fell from the roof. It was eerily quiet, with the smallest hint of sound creating an echo that traveled through the whole building. Shouta was in front of Hizashi, being the only one with a steady hand capable of holding a flashlight.

The walls were closing in, leaving little room for two people. Hizashi started to feel cold, trembling as he passed by the walls plastered in some odd liquid he dared not analyze. He was never claustrophobic, but each second felt like he was slowly suffocating.

They finally entered a room covered in old, broken-down furniture. Shouta circled the room, eyeing every piece of furniture to find any clues on where they are. The place has been left unattended for many years, and the only living things were the spiders creating webs in the chairs and wall cracks.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

“Don’t touch anything, Hizashi,” Shouta ordered, “who knows what might be growing in these places.”

He heard Hizashi whimper beside him, and Shouta immediately turned back alarmed.

“Sho- Shouta...that wasn’t me,” Hizashi whispered, his voice shaking with horror.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Shouta’s eyes widened as he searched for the noise. He instinctively clutched his binding cloth and lowered his goggles to prepare for any surprise attack.

The tapping echoed once again through the room, and Shouta felt his confusion grow by the second. He knew he had pinpointed the direction of the noise, yet he couldn’t see anything.

He approached the corner where he was certain the noise originated from, but all he saw was a wooden table with some sort of vase.

Now that he had a better look, the vase looked more like an urn than anything. Shouta gulped, feeling a sense of dread that traveled throughout his body.

The tap came back, and it wasn’t until then that Shouta realized the source of the sound.

“The noise,” he started, “it’s coming from inside the walls.”

“W-what do you mean?” Hizashi asked, his voice betraying him with sniffles.

Before Shouta could respond, the urn suddenly flung violently off the table and landed on the floor right beside Shouta. The raven man backed away immediately, impulsively seeking for Hizashi’s embrace.

He didn’t have much luck, considering the scream that Hizashi let out. Any normal being would have screamed, but with his quirk, it wasn’t the most adequate time.

His blaring cry resonated throughout the room, possibly the whole temple. The place began to shake violently, toppling pieces of furniture and artifacts all over the floor. The walls shook with such force that new cracks began to form, threatening the stability of the building.

Hizashi looked frantically at Shouta, who was staring back at him. The loud hero reached out for his friend, and for a moment he saw Shouta approaching him.

Then he fell.

The floor opened, and Hizashi felt gravity take a hold of him. His hands stretched out for anything, anyone - but it was useless.

“Hizashi!” Shouta screamed out, running to save his friend. He couldn’t prevent him from falling, but he would be damned if he left without Hizashi.

Shouta kneeled down at the edge of the gaping hole on the floor. The thick dust and smoke made it almost impossible to see anything below him, but he was sure he could make out an unconscious figure that had to be Hizashi and weird objects surrounding him.

“Hizashi, stay there!” Shouta yelled, “I’ll be down there as quickly as possible.”

Shouta looked around the room to find a sturdy object to tie his binding cloth, but it proved difficult given the vulnerable state of all the furniture that threatened to break apart any second.

Below the wreckage, Hizashi gained consciousness. He winced as he felt a sharp pain on his ribs and right thigh. He turned around, facing the roof, and gasped when he saw his right thigh bleeding with a shredded piece of glass pierced through it.

He leveled his breathing as he closed his eyes to prepare for the pain. He carefully grabbed the piercing glass with two fingers, and with the strength of his adrenaline - he plucked it out from his skin.

His face contorted in pain, but he kept silent, not wanting to repeat the same incident that led him to this mess. He threw the bleeding glass somewhere far from him, which clashed with other objects he couldn’t decipher.

Hizashi started crawling backwards, using his elbows, but he kept meeting something strange. It was rough and solid, making his elbows ache. When he turned his head to take a closer look, his eyes widened when he saw bones.

Pieces of bones surrounding him in every direction.

Hizashi covered his mouth to prevent himself from screaming, but he couldn’t contain the tear that lingered on his eyes from falling down his cheeks. He was sure he had entered the gates of Hell, and Shouta was nowhere to be seen.

Where was Shouta? Where was the love of his life? Not that Shouta knows he is subject to Hizashi’s love. Now that he thought about it, he never got to tell Shouta how he felt.

He started to hyperventilate, feeling like air was poisoning and suffocating him. He feverishly shook his head, crawling away from the bones but they were everywhere. He felt something move quickly through his hands, and that’s when he knew that his nightmare was far from over.

“No, no, no, no,” Hizashi gasped, feeling tiny spiders skittering across the floor. He whimpered as he suppressed sobs filled with terror. He closed his eyes with such force that it ached, but it was miles better than being forced to see the spiders.

Ever since that time he fell into a pit filled with those crawling creatures; he can’t bear the sight of it.

The floor rumbled as heavy footsteps approached him in the dark. Hizashi panicked, hugging his knees for comfort as his breath stood still.

Eight twisted razor-like legs loomed above Hizashi, with black goo oozing off. The face with an exposed brain gave the indication that Hizashi was dealing with a Nomu.

A Nomu with a spider mutation.

Hizashi screamed in horror, with the Nomu screeching alongside him. It raised one of its sharp legs, and aimed it straight to Hizashi.

Before it could reach the loud hero, it was stopped by a white cloth that tightly grabbed the monster and flung it away from Hizashi. The Nomu crashed onto the wall, crying in pain. The attacker wasted no time in binding the creature, making sure its’ legs were tied up together. The sharp edges of the legs might have been a threat, but the raven man trusted the strength of his binding scarf.

Shouta darted towards Hizashi, and felt his heart shatter when he heard Hizashi’s cries of pain. He should have never left Hizashi’s side, but all he could do now was embrace his friend. Keep him safe in his arms.

Hizashi sobbed with his eyes shut closed, “Shouta...it was horrible, I- I just stood there frozen. I couldn’t do anything I-”

“It’s okay, Hizashi,” Shouta comforted, caressing Hizashi’s hair, “I’m here.”

“Thank you,” Hizashi whispered, “I’m sorry, I was too weak-”

“No, don’t say that,” Shouta said, backing away to cup Hizashi’s cheeks, “you’re not weak Hizashi. This was a phobia of yours, so don’t you dare apologize for something that wasn’t your fault.”

Hizashi’s tears started to dry up, and a small smile crept on his face.

“Can we go now?” he asked with imploring eyes.

Shouta smiled back, “Sure, I’ll call for backup and then we can get the hell out of here.”

Making their way outside of the temple was difficult, with Shouta maneuvering himself and Hizashi, who kept his eyes closed as he limped. Shouta ripped a part of his outfit to tie it tightly onto Hizashi’s injured leg before they left.

Once they reached the entrance, Shouta decided to sit down on one of the stairwells with Hizashi. The two were hit by the force of the sun as they catched their breath. Shouta knew more pro heroes and officers were coming to deal with the Nomu, and whatever hellish things could be hiding in that temple of doom. All they had to do now was wait, and then they will finally be free from all of this.

Hizashi leaned onto Shouta’s shoulders, thinking about how close he was to being severely injured, or perhaps dying. Knowing he could have died without letting Shouta know how he feels was troubling him, and he told himself that he would stop being a coward and do something about it.

He knows Shouta might not feel the same, but after today, he is willing to take the risk. Hizashi glanced at Shouta, who was staring blankly at the sky. He wondered what Shouta was contemplating about, but decided not to break Shouta’s thoughts.

Shouta gazed at the blue skies, which was a stark contrast from the dark surfaces of the temple behind him. In the sight of the purest natural light, everything became clear to him.

Maybe I should tell Hizashi that I love him.

#erasermic #aizawa shouta #present mic #aizawa #yamada hizashi #morbidcorvids

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thwip--thwip · 5 years

Note

Hey, I was looking for some new reading material and wondered if you could give me some recs? Please and thank you sm!

ho BOY anon, COULD I! I’ve got over 2,000 bookmarks on AO3 - what are we looking for? I’m going to assume IronDad, or at the very least Peter Parker-centric; short or long? MJ or Gwen Stacy? Angst, fluff, whump? Sorry this took a minute; I went into the vault for you and pulled out some rare gems:

LONG FICS

In the Home by @captainkirkk | 68k

The Avengers have been infected, turned violent and aggressive against their will. And Peter, the only one unaffected, is trapped inside the Tower with six feral teammates.

“Natasha,” Peter says cautiously, “what happened here? Steve attacked me, and if there was ever a sign that something was wrong, it’s having the embodiment of Truth, Justice, and the American Way throw you across the room—”

Natasha comes closer, her stride controlled. Nothing necessarily out of the ordinary, but there’s something in her face, in her eyes—

Natasha lunges across the space, and slams into Peter, hard.

This just…hoo. A classic if I’ve ever seen one. There’s going to be plenty of aloneintherain on this list because she’s the bomb dot com and its no secret I’m in love. we Stan in this house; this might be my favorite Spidey fic ever written.

POW Avengers by Punny_Puck |122k

Tony Stark is thrown into a new Nazi POW camp. It’s his fifth–or sixth–and he’d really like to make it to his fiftieth escape attempt this time. But Stalag III isn’t like any of the other POW camps he’s been in. He suddenly finds himself facing an impossible task: Getting two-hundred and fifty men out of the camp in one massive escape attempt. And dammit if he’s not going to make it work.

Very impressive, very lengthy and detailed historical AU set in WWII. This one is more Tony than Peter, and quite a fair bit of Loki (this author does a great job with all the different POV’s, that’s why it’s so long!). Nice and juicy!

5 Times Peter Fell & Tony Caught Him, and The 1 Time He Didn’t by eva7673 | 35k

Peter has a nasty habit of falling. And Tony, bless him, will catch him every. single. time. Until the day he can’t.

I love this series with all of my heart, but especially this first fic! It’s the perfect amount of whump and IronDad, and oh man, that last time? GETS me. Eva definitely put in so much work on this series, and it SHOWS!

Twelve Days of Peter Parker by @upcamethesun | 27k

In each of the twelve days leading up to Christmas, Tony runs into one Peter Parker — for better or for worse.

In other words, an excuse for this author to write gratuitous Peter fluff/angst/nonsense with a Christmas theme, because ‘tis the season.

This fic is so cute I Die. Perfect bit of holiday nonsense! I read it every year lol. It’s got everything you’re looking for and more, to scratch the itch you didn’t know you had.

ever in your favor by @iron–spider | 153k

Peter startles awake when someone shakes him.

“Sorry, honey,” May says. Peter blinks a couple times and she comes into focus, her hair pulled back from her face. She’s trying not to look a certain way, but he can see it in her eyes anyway. She clears her throat, keeps talking. “But it’s…” She glances away, wets her lips. “You gotta get ready.”

He remembers what day it is, and his heart beats like a drum at someone’s execution. But he tries to put on a mask, make it all seem normal. It’s everything but, despite the fact that he’s been dealing with reaping day since he was born, between himself, Ben and May. That fear that one of them could be taken away. Sent to surefire slaughter. But now Ben is gone, taken despite never having his name drawn from a bowl, and May’s finally safe. Now Peter’s name is in there alone. The last Parker sitting on the chopping block. He doesn’t know how to be. He doesn’t know what normal is, when the Hunger Games are looming on the horizon.

I mean…how could I possibly do a fic rec list without this on it? Iron–spider’s latest masterwork, and it truly is a masterwork. The Hunger Games AU your soul has been crying out for, and quite possibly the greatest AU to ever live. Do yourself a favor and get settled in - you’re in for a ride.

Magazineverse by @copperbadge | 56k

Heroes In Manhattan: From Captain America’s Hidden Talents To The Truth About The Hulk, We Debunk The Myths And Expose The Daily Lives Of The Avengers.

Avengers-centric, takes place post-2012. The Avengers team we deserve! The whole series is amazing, and I definitely didn’t see the twist coming (SO original, and you totally got me. Well played.)

MEDIUM FICS

devil in a sunday hat by @captainkirkk | 14k

Peter wishes he hadn’t gotten out of bed that morning. Then, maybe, he wouldn’t be reduced to this—limp-crawling through the rabbit burrows that is Oscorp Tower, a monster of a man on his heels, bloody and bruised and choking on a panic attack.

This series really speaks to Peter, and his experience as a street-level hero. I don’t think I’ve ever not cried reading this series - it’s really beautiful. Aloneintherain always manages to capture how much weight and anxiety sits on Peter’s shoulders - and how dire his consequences can really be.

5 things that change for Peter after the end of the world by @iron–spider | 14k

…and one thing that always remains the same.

(SPOILERS FOR INFINITY WAR)

Peter knows he’s different now.

The first three months were like a bubble. He didn’t think about the newness of his old life, he didn’t think about the state of the world now that it had been saved—he just worried. Worried about Tony and Steve recovering. Worried about May worrying about him. Worried about everything in general—he didn’t allow himself specifics because specifics didn’t make sense, not yet. He just focused on his routine, kept it normal, the same schedule every day so he didn’t throw himself off.

It felt like the bubble popped when the party ended, and everything became clearer. The differences in who he is now were highlighted, like there was a spotlight on his every move, like everybody could see the invisible scars the world-ending experience left on him.

The first thing he notices is the sleeping. Or lack thereof.

(a follow up to my story “the rattle of their hearts” from Peter’s POV. You can read this one without having read the original, but it would make more sense if you have read it!)

Everyone knows Rattle, and if you don’t, definitely read the first fic in this series! But this second one is really special to me (and MJ never fails to make me laugh out loud, every time). Peter’s PTSD is dealt with intimately in this fic, and I love it to bits.

the conspiracy kids by @tempestaurora | 13k

WHO IS SPIDER-MAN?

The screen showed Peter Parker, sixteen years old and determined to prove the identity of Spider-Man over the course of the three-part documentary he was making, unknowing that it would become viral within days of the first part being released. Behind the camera, way off screen, was Harley Keener, Tony Stark’s other prodigy child, grinning like crazy as Peter started the documentary. Only a few people knew what was to come, and those few people were about to have a great few weeks.

“My name is Peter Parker, and with the help of my friends, Ned Leeds, Harley Keener, and my Aunt, May Parker, who provided me with a lot of red yarn for this project, we’re going to uncover the identity of Spider-Man.”

“what if peter just decided to fuck with everyone who didn’t know he was spider man and make a documentary about him trying to uncover the Truth.”

Looking for a fun, Peter-and-Harley-being-ridiculous-teenagers fic? This is the One For You. I can see it all in my head, and it never fails to make me laugh. Delightful piece of fluff and probably the best social-media-esque fic I’ve read.

Primary Reason Tony Stark Would Throw Down With An Anti-Vaxxer In The Street by @caraminha | 12k

Prompt from my Tumblr: Have you heard of tetanus? I’m studying it for school and it’s got lots of angst potential - it causes severe, seizure like muscle spasms which can break the patient’s bones, but they’re conscious and fully aware of what’s happening. It also causes fever and lockjaw, and difficulty breathing. I’d love to see an angst fic where Peter has bad tetanus and Tony and co are looking after him whilst his symptoms get worse and worse.

Looking for some Peter!whump? This fic is so sweet. Tony is Dad. What more do you need?

SHORT FICS

Come Together by @captainkirkk | 1.8k

From the ground, Tony squints at Thanos and the young heroes the villain is chasing through the city. “Are they…” Tony begins.

Steve, being lifted onto a gurney by starstruck paramedics, laughs a little. “Leading the man who almost destroyed the Earth in a wild goose chase?” In the sky, Johnny Storm sticks his tongue out at Thanos, ducking and weaving out of the villain’s grasp. “Yeah. I think they are.”

Didn’t I promise she’d be on here a billion and one times? All of her stuff is so good, for every fandom. Go READ this queen who’s been killing the game for years. This fic is such a sweet one, an Endgame fic before Peter was even in the MCU. It’s perfect.

Only Road by @garamonder | 2.8k

A rare breather between fighting should have been a relief for the Avengers. Instead, one small comment triggers a confrontation Peter had been avoiding for months.

Oh wow this one…this dialogue between Peter and Tony is incredible. One of my favorite things in a fic is a good argument, especially one where Peter has a distinct and mature point.

Every Penny and More by Princessfbi | 1.2k

She forced herself to inhale air and hold it before releasing it from her lips. She grounded herself in the cheap vinyl in a crappy diner that she wasn’t sure she was ever going to be able to look at the same way again. She thought of the life Peter would have if she said yes because she knew that’s what all of this was about: Tony asking her permission to let him do this.

May and Tony co-parenting Peter is…oh, be still my heart. This is such a sweet little fic of something that definitely happened off-screen :’)

5 Times Spider-Man Saved An Avengers’ Ass (and the 1 Time They Saved Him) by TunaFishChris | 7.2k

What it says on the tin.

Going through an angsty Spider-Man phase. I regret nothing.

YES give me Peter x Avengers team! Peter gets a great moment with each of the Avengers, proving himself a capable hero (and getting assistance when he needs it the most :’) baby makes some friends!). Really cute, a fun little romp.

unbearable loss by @iron–spider | 1.6k

“Peter…he was so afraid, Pep,” Tony says, his voice breaking. “He…he just lunged for me, he was so afraid, he wanted—he needed someone to be there for him. And I tried, I tried—I held him, I told him he was alright, which was a—goddamn lie, and the only fucking thing that came out of my mouth. The last thing I said to him.” He shakes his head, swallowing hard. “The last thing I said to him was a lie.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Pepper says, quietly.

“I do,” Tony says. “He trusted me. That kid trusted me, and I failed him every possible way I could have. I couldn’t save him, I couldn’t—he died in my arms and I couldn’t do one single solitary thing about it. And I couldn’t—me, the human fucking chatterbox—I just stared at him. He was dying, turning to fucking dust and apologizing to me and I just stared at him, like a moron.”

This fic Fucks. Me. Up. Iron–spider’s Tony angst is unparalleled. It hurts me every time, and the dialogue between him and Pepper is just…it’ll get you.

yesterday, I saw a change by @captainkirkk | 6.8k

Inspired by prompt: ‘Peter is unmasked on live television, and everyone goes berserk—you’ve already heard this one but here’s the twist—he’s wide-eyed, staring into the camera, frightened, but not because of his own safety. The first thing that comes out of his mouth is, “Someone please, please protect my Aunt May.” And the entirety of New York cries out simultaneously. Heroes and neighbours and fellow students rain down on the Parker house, ready to defend her.’

This is - surprise! - a May Parker fic. This fic will move you. You will probably cry. I love it with all my heart. If I ever need a refresher on who May is and how she feels - how New York feels, about Spiderman - this is my go-to.

Hope that gave you some new stuff to check out! I have more, do I ever have more. Enjoy & remember to leave comments for all of these wonderful writers!!!

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