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thefiery-phoenix · 9 months

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YANDERE VILLAIN DEKU X READER

You were a 5 year old cute adorable shy little girl but wasn't afraid to protect your loved ones. You were going to the playground to practice using your quirk which by the way, was Nuclear Explosion. you were about to play on the swing and just then, you saw a certain green broccoli haired boy getting bullied by a loud angry ash blonde who suspiciously, looked like a rat or a hedgehog on crack

''Face it Deku! I'm better than you and you're just a quirkless pathetic waste of space who will NEVER surpass me and don't waste your time aiming to be a hero'' snarled the blonde as the green haired kid looked like as if he was about to cry. The blonde haired boy pushed him and he fell and that's what made your blood boil in anger.

''Hey! Stop bullying him you big meanie!'' you yelled and stuck your tongue at him. ''What did you say to me you damn extra?'' shouted the blonde kid. You fired your nuclear explosions at him and his 3 goons and they left in a hurry after that. "I'll get you for this you damn extra, whatever the hell your name is!'' he shouted. ''I have a NAME and it's Y/N you big moron!'' You helped the green haired kid get up and he had some tears in his eyes and was clutching an all might figurine, someone who you were fond of as well

''Are you all right?'' you asked the green haired kid as he nodded and stuttered that he was fine. He introduced himself as Izuku Midoriya and the blonde who bullied him was Kaachan or Katsuki bakugou. ''Come on, I'll help you clean up, you have a pretty big bruise there on your knee'' and led him towards a park bench. You patched it up with a band-aid as Izuku saw your tiny soft magical hands at work. He turned red whenever you touched him and his face was becoming flushed and his heart beat faster than ever. ''Are you okay? Do you have a fever?'' you asked him and touched his forehead and he shook his head vigorously. You both became best friends after that and you stood up for him whenever Katsuki bullied him. Little did you know, even Katsuki had grown feelings towards you. Fast forward to where you guys are in middle school cuz, I'm too lazy (lol)

Izuku's POV: Here I am, waiting for Y/N chan in front of her house so we can go to school together. I really LOVE and enjoy having her around. She always helps me when Kaachan bullies me and she's really kind and caring. But... why does my chest hurt so much when she talks to other people and gives them her attention? I hate it when Y/N spends her precious time with someone else.... They don't deserve her. They don't deserve her attention. I wish I could be strong so I could protect her just like a knight in shining armor and all that.

''Izuku!'' chirped a cheerful and yet soft female voice snapping me out of my thoughts. It was Y/N looking at me with her beautiful eyes. "Shall we get going?'' she asked me. "S-sure'' I stuttered. We were on the way to our middle school and we witnessed a fight between our idol All Might and a villain. ''Oh my gods, LOOK!'' gasped Y/N and clutched my arm looking nervous. Of course, I turned pink but she didn't see it, thank goodness. We were watching the fight and finally All Might won. I wanted to talk to him and I asked Y/N to go on without me even though I was reluctant to leave her alone. I didn't want anything bad to happen to her but..... I needed to talk to All Might alone. "All Might, do-d- do you think I could still become a hero without a quirk?'' and when All Might gave me his answer, it shattered my heart into a million pieces. He said I couldn't be a hero without a quirk and I was devastated! All my hopes and dreams crushed within less than a second! I went to school feeling like garbage since that's exactly how I felt right now. Maybe Kaachan was right..... maybe I shouldn't be a hero..... I'm just a pathetic quirkless nobody. I went to school and when our homeroom teacher announced that me, Y/N and Kaachan wanted to get into the UA, people started snickering at us. Well, at me mostly. Y/N asked them to shut up and then got into a heated argument with Katsuki and finally ended up in detention, along with him. I have to admit, Y/N gotten bolder and it's really cute and adorable.

But I wasn't going to let MY darling Y/N chan be ALONE with Kaachan for an ENTIRE hour. Who knows what he's going to do to her? So, in order for her not to be lonely and to keep an eye on Kaachan to make sure he doesn't try anything with my puppy, I NEED to get detention too. So, I purposefully looked like as if I wasn't paying attention to the teacher and what do you know? I got detention as well....

The bell finally rang and soon, it was time for detention. Y/N headed out and told me she'd wait for me at the detention room. I was about to follow her when Kaachan pulled me back by my collar and hissed, ''Stay the HELL away from Y/N. She's MINE and I LOVE her, you understand, you DAMN nerd?'' and burned my wrists a little. ''Kaachan stop it, I love her too'' I said and that's how burns decorated my body yet again. ''Just stay away from her and why not take a swan dive off a roof? If you're lucky you'll wake up with a quirk in your NEXT life'' and burned my hero analysis notebook to ash. Y/N chan comforted me during detention and swore that she'd pulverize him to death but I shook my head. Soon, it was time for us to go home but I didn't go home. No. I went somewhere and met someone who changed my life forever and made me see things in a different perspective..... That day had completely changed me and no doubt, my darling Y/N chan would certainly have tears in her eyes but I'll wipe them off and comfort her.... After all... I'm the ONLY one she needs.....

Y/N's POV: It' been 2 years since my best friend Izuku went missing. I never liked calling him 'Deku' since it meant useless and it was given to him by that hot headed hedgehog Katsuki. I swore to myself that I'd gain my pro hero licence and the second I do, I would do WHATEVER I could to find him and get him back. His mother was out of her mind with worry every single day and I would comfort her before going to the UA, the most prestigious school in Japan for upcoming heroes. Unfortunately, even Kaachan got in too. I went to Mrs. Midoriya's house and comforted her and went to the UA. Seeing the building always made me have glistening tears in my eyes since it was our dream to be in the UA together and now.... that was all just a mirage. I made my way to class 1a and while Katsuki was glad that Izuku didn't come to the UA, I told him to shut up. ''This all your fault. You always used to bully him and its because of you he's.... he's gone'' I said angrily as Katsuki replied, ''Tch... why do you even care about that quirkless nerd?'' ''He was my FRIEND!'' I shouted and by now, everyone in class 1a turned to stare at us but I didn't care

Classes dragged on as usual and when we went to the grounds for hero training, we heard the school's security's alarms blaring loudly. ''Quick! Everyone, stay in the classrooms! The pro heroes will ensure you're safe! There are villains attacking!'' yelled Present Mic over the speakers and just as we were about to make a run for it, a purple portal opened up in front of us and out came a buff well built looking guy with a green mask, with a blue haired crusty looking person and a blonde haired girl wearing a school uniform

The green haired guy removed his mask and I recognized his freckles along with his emerald eyes and his green hair. Slowly it was starting to hit me.... Izuku, my dear friend was a.... villain!!??

''Izuku?'' I whispered and looked shocked as hell and so did Katsuki. "What the HELL you DAMN nerd?'' ''Ah.... an old reunion among childhood friends. How sweet'' said Izuku smiling sickly. ''Stay back'' threatened Aizawa. '' Izuku, why did you become a.... a villain?'' I asked him with tears in my eyes. '' Ah... my darling Y/N chan. Sweetheart, who wouldn't become one after they've been let down by their idol and on top of that being bullied for being quirkless? That arrogant ego filled jerk KATSUKI bullied me till NO ENDS!! And heck! Even my own MOM gave up on me after she found out I was quirkless! But Y/N... you were the only one who gave me hope.... You made me happy, you always supported me, cheered me on.... Join me Y/N... Join me and I'll make sure to treat you like the princess that you deserve to be treated. To hell with this corrupted tainted hero society!'' he roared but I shook my head and ran away from him. ''Y/N chan, love, You can't escape me~'' and released some purple fog all around us. Then, I felt something hit my head and pretty soon, the only only thing I could sense was people yelling and shouting as my consciousness slowly drifted.....

3rd Person POV: You woke up on a surprisingly comfortable bed but your hands were chained to the bed's headboard. You started hollering through your gag, making muffled noises. Soon a blue haired man and your friend Izuku appeared. ''Ask you girlfriend to join us or die.'' said the crusty looking man, as he removed your gag and you yelled, "I'm NEVER joining the LOV! Izuku, this ISN'T YOU! Why are you doing this!? How could you?'' you screamed at him with tears in your eyes. You couldn't use your quirk since he had placed a quirk canceling collar on you

He unchained you and rubbed your back in a somewhat soothing manner, waiting for you to calm down. ''Do... do you have any idea how WORRIED your mom was'' you asked him, as he quickly kissed you on your lips in order to shut you up. You tried fighting him, but gave in to him in the end. He broke the kiss and cuddled you and whispered hoarsely.... '' I love you Y/N my precious doll.... your MINE and ONLY MINE, no one else's..... And you will learn to love me at some point.....

BONUS SCENE: Toga: Uhh.... Dabi, you Do realize that if you're planning to flirt with Y/N Deku's gonna murder you, right?

Dabi: Yeah you stab queen, I figured that out, but I'm not going to lie, she was pretty good looking

Shigaraki: You're all idiots.

Izuku: What. the HELL. did you say about MY Y/N??

Dabi: Uhhh....n-nothing. She's absolutely PERFECT for you and she's like my little sister. (Chuckles nervously)

Izuku: (smiles in a way no creepy serial psychotic serial killer would) Good to know.

P.S: This convo takes place AFTER you're nicely sleeping on DEKU's bed, END OF STORY

#yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere deku #yandere deku x reader #yandere villain deku x reader #yandere villain deku #yandere villain deku scenarios #yandere villain deku oneshots #yandere villain deku imagines #yandere villain deku headcanons #yandere izuku midoriya x reader #yandere izuku midoriya

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charmixpower · 10 months

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Issue Fifty-Nine: Winx Band

Brandon???? Being a dick to the girls for no reason???? Ooc I will not hear anymore of it

Wowowowowowo she's SOOOOO gorgeous here 🥰

Omg this is so adorable from Stella

And this teacher is acting like being a fairy is the same as being a public figure????? Like????? Not every fairy is gonna be famous, this is so weird

They are faries not idols

I'm glad Brandon needed no push to apologize, even when he's being written to be a dick he's still leagues above all the other male characters

ALSO TECNA PLAYING THE SAX CNSJDJSJDJSJ

Someone push Bloom off of the stage and give Musa the mic

Stormy in ARMOR!!!! GODBLESS!!!!!

Brandon you and your friends have a band and do gigs and compositions too, why are you randomly being a dick about the girls having a band??

Musa being so excited is super cute but Stella hijacking her dream is super weird

Stella your both a princess and famous bc taking down Valtor, why are you so excited

How tiny is this man's bed gjsjdjdn

Why the fuck is Stella so excited about this???? She doesn't give a rats ass about music and she's already famous!!!!

STELLA YOU ARE A FAMOUS PRINCESS YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER

I don't think that's how contracts work besties but whatever

I love love love how their wings look here!!!!

So gorgeous!!!!

#Winx club #Rus liveblogs #Winx comics #Winx comic #long post

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jangofctts · 3 years

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Thing for Trouble (boba fett x fem!reader x din djarin) (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four)

Rated: explicit 18+

word count: 7.6k

warnings: threesome, smut, thigh riding, oral female receiving, handjobs, unprotected sex (dont be a deadbeat, wrap that shCMEAT), light choking, throne fucking, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampies, pet names, sub? din? more likely than you think (also lmk if I missed any tags!)

a/n: yall im sorry this is such garbage but kjkwejh here we be. I hOPE YOU ENJOY THE CIRCUS. thank you to everyone who’s encouraged this so COME GET YALLS MANDO MEAT

There isn’t much when he it comes to Tatooine and fun things to do. There’s pod acing, drinking, Sabaac tourneys, more podracing, gambling and scavenging. Unless there’s a festival or some wild event, you’re stuck with boredom and whatever you can scrounge up for fun in the palace.

Now, don’t get it wrong—if you had it your way, you’d spend every waking hour trialing behind Boba, but you don’t want to smother. Fennec too—while you enjoy her company, you know that half of the reason she sticks around is Boba’s order for your protection. Kinda ruins the fun when you know she probably only tolerates you because she’s being paid to. Eh whatever—doesn’t stop you from tagging along on as she runs errands in town—besides, today you actually have a reason to be here instead of loitering like a lost puppy.

Fennec tells you to be safe and com her the second trouble rears its ugly head and disappears into the weapons shop—muttering about her prized rifle being jammed or something. You don’t know, all you hear is that you have the entire afternoon to yourself to hunt down your oh so elusive prize. Star cherries.

The markets are always vibrant. Jam packed with people from each and every corner of the galaxy, hundreds of booths and stalls selling their wares that varies from foods to jewelry to even bounty services. Tempting as is it is to peruse the sparkly rows of dainty necklaces and rings or inspect the vast array of beige ponchos and manilla undershirts—you have a purpose. A once a year chance you refuse to let go to waste.

The shabby booth is tucked near the end of the street, the mountain of the little red fruits looking comical compared to the withered old lady who sits beside them. She flashes you a gap-toothed smile, the crowfeet wrinkles surrounding her eyes scrunch with the movement. “Ah! I was wondering when you’d show, dear.”

“Hello, Mrs. Feraan,” you greet, bending at the was it to kiss her wrinkly cheek. The old vender was one of the first kind souls you met here when you arrived on Tatooine. In return for a couple compliments or an offer to be the lab rat to test her new recipes for pie or tarts, she hooks you up with the best of the cherries—handpicked with love. “How’s business today?”

She waves her hand in dismissal, her silver rings glinting in the sun. “Same as always, child.”

Eventually you work your way through the pleasantries and a couple, long winded tangents. The sort that only old people can flawlessly spin and keep you engaged. Trials and tribulations to earn your prize—you don’t mind sacrificing a couple hours.

Finally you’re allowed to walk away—cherries in hand and exceedingly eager for your sweet snack. Unfortunately, suffering through Mrs. Feraan’s old childhood laments is not the only bump in the road you have to face.

Granted, it is your fault—not looking where your feet are taking you—

Your temple crashes into something agonizingly hard. You swear you hear a quiet bonk when your skull collides with the mystery material and fucking hell—you probably have a concussion from the force of it.

Unbothered by your probable brain injury, you’re far more concerned with the cherries spilling onto the ground and so, as you flail and dramatically topple over—the brunt of your fall is cushioned by your shoulder. Something pops and yeah, ok, maybe you just tore a ligament but—kriffing worth it for the cherries you miraculously saved from their dusty graves.

Your temper flares as you spot the dirty brown boots pointed in your direction. Maneuvering yourself up so you don’t also get trampled by the crowd, you bare your teeth and put on your best impression of a terrifying force of nature despite the fact you’ve been knocked flat on your ass. “What the fuck—“

The words shrivel up and die upon your tongue as your eyes slide up the stranger’s legs, broad shoulders sporting the shiny armor that twinkles in the midday suns. They then settle on an all too familiar helmet. Well, sorta—you’re familiar with a certain red and green one, not the equivalent of a wearable disco ball.

You squint as the stranger’s head dips to look at you crumpled at his feet. You dust yourself off and point an accusing finger. “Fuck is your problem standing in the middle of the road?”

The stranger quirks their head. “You ran into me—maybe you should watch where you’re stepping.”

The raspy voice is a striking sound. Mellow and silky even as it passes through the vocoder and dresses it in static charm. Some of your anger melts away—maybe this is the friend Boba was talking about—it’d make sense. They’re wearing the same type of armor…

You shake your head and shove down your pride. You don’t think Boba would appreciate you chewing his ear off. “Sorry—you’re right.”

As you readjust your clothes and precious cherries you introduce yourself with a tiny smile. Yet just as you're about to ask him his name he interjects with a step forward. You flinch away but all he does is sweep back a strand of hair from your forehead, revealing a little nick in the skin. You hiss as his fingertips scrape against it--great, an actual head wound. “Are you alright?”

Maker—here you are, after yelling at him and he finds it in him to be compassionate. You wave away his concerns. “Y-yeah--peachy.”

He apologizes with a dip of his head and words soaked in regret and fuck--now you feel bad. You wrack through your brain and search for last ditch attempts to fix this little mishap and settle with a half baked idea. It’s dumb--but hey, if it works, it works.

“Seriously, it’s fine. But I mean, if you’re so worried, how about you walk me home and we call it even?” You propose, sticking out your hand to seal the deal. If your assumptions are right, he’d just be tailing you the whole way home anyway. “I’m headed towards the palace, so if it’s not too much out of your way then—“

He hesitates and interrupts by taking your hand. “Alright. Deal.”

You smile. “Lovely.”

On the return trip, Din is quiet—tells you his name and responds to your conversation fillers with interested hums—but other than that he remains on the silent end. Intriguing with a rounded softness unlike the armor he wears--a man of mystery much like a certain someone who awaits you back home. Well--Din is less grumpy--by a long shot...but still. It’s easy to spot some of their shared similarities.

-=-=-=-

Upon arriving at the castle you part ways with Din before he reaches the throne room--you’re not too excited about showing off your new battle scar yet and while it was an accident, making an entrance with Din will make it far too easy to link the injury with him. Besides, you don’t wanna risk scaring off your new friend if Boba decides to showcase that tightly sealed lid of anger and brutality.

Instead you take the long way around the palace. Soon, muffled voices carry through the long corridors, growing louder as you work your way back from the kitchens. You round the corner, catching glimpses of Boba and your new friend through the pillars that prop up the low ceiling. You don’t meant to spy, but you do so anyway, hesitant on interrupting.

That is...until Boba cocks his head to the side and settles his eyes onto the pillar you hide behind. “It seems we have a little shadow with us today.”

You suck in a breath as your heart skips in a thrumming pace. Boba addresses you by name and crooks his fingers in a lazy motion for you to step out into the light—revealing yourself to the small party of two. “Come here, little one.”

The low light catches off of Din’s helmet with a glittering sparkle when he swivels his head. The tiny, warped figure of yourself reflects in mirror-like pieces of smelted beskar as his shoulders pull tight with recognition. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the smile that threatens to crack across your face at bay. Boba is no fool—he excels in the subtleties of shifting eyes and clenched fists to hide anxiety or closely guarded information—sickeningly familiar with your own quirks and tells, but—

There’s no reason to reveal Din’s little secret—not yet. Boba called him a friend but you truly have no clue what the depths of that word entailed. Friend could mean anything from a casual acquaintance, to an old childhood bond, and or anything in between. You sigh and brush past him, mentally congratulating yourself for keeping a cool mask of indifference etched into your features. If Din wants to open that can of worms then so be it—you weren’t the one offering to walk random people home.

You step onto the dais and slide your free hand into Boba’s outstretched palm. The worn leather tickles up your forearm and locks over your elbow, silently demanding you to sit on his lap. There’s plenty of room to both sit on the throne but no—Boba prefers you tucked against the cool metal of his cuirass. You grunt as the bowl of star cherries you cradle dangerously dips when Boba adjusts your weight over his thighs.

His fingers pull back a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and then spider along your jawline. The ends of his mouth quirk as Boba pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, capturing your undivided attention. “I don’t like it when you lurk in the shadows, little one. You’re allowed to listen.

You huff. “I know—but lurking is fun.”

Boba releases your chin with a scoff. “Foolish, girl.” You dip your chin with a sheepish grin as heat rushes to your cheeks. You briefly forget about the tiny nick adorning your right temple, the only thing you were trying to keep hidden—but Boba is all too quick to notice. “What is this?”

He pushes your hair out of the way of the cut, inspects it, then curls his fingers around your jaw to demand an answer. You refuse to let your eyes wander over to Din—what a dead giveaway that would be—and instead muster up enough courage to hold the weight of his stare.

“I tripped at the markets,” you say—not a complete lie. “It’s just a little scratch—no biggie.”

Boba squints in suspicion and grumbles a soft hm. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh—he won’t argue about it right now. Not a battle worth his while when you’re keen on keeping the full truth behind a wall of teeth and anxieties. Boba’s hand falls away, gestures to Din who still stands stiffer than a stature, then lays it over the golden armrest. “I’m sure you’ve noticed our guest—“

Din tips his head in acknowledgement.

“The rightful ruler of Mandalore,” Boba continues. “Din Djarin.”

Din Djarin…despite already knowing his name (or half of it, at least) you like the way it rolls off the tongue—like how it’s seemingly made to be repeated and carved into the walls of some ancient script. Your knowledge on all things Mandalorian is…limited to say the least but you know enough about the rumors.

“Isn’t Mandalore supposed to be haunted?” You don’t mean for your words to be a pointy jab to the ribs but regardless, it strikes a tender chord within the Mandalorian. You wince as Din shifts his weight and clenches his palm—a long story. “Sorry—I—I’m sure your home is lovely, all I know about it are dumb ghost stories about evil wizards and laser swords.”

The blood under your cheeks burn red hot. Great. Not only are you a complete bantha brain, you’ve also managed to sound like an impudent child. Boba soothes a thumb over your thigh as you curl into yourself—bastard. He thinks this is funny.

“It’s not my home,” Din responds, albeit tentatively. “Never been.”

Your brows furrow. Alrighty then.

Boba snorts and shakes his head. He mutters something in Mando’a and lazily waves his hand, dismissing the line of conversation entirely. It was turning into a dumpster fire anyway—

With a slow exhale, you remove yourself from the discussion and instead tuck your head under Boba’s chin. The beskar is cold against your cheek but it feels nice against the sweltering midday heat.

Their conversation fades in and out as you rest your head over Boba’s cuirass, listlessly picking through the bowl of fruit for the ripest ones. You sigh—the next cherry you bring up to your lips is intercepted as Boba’s hand clamps around your wrist and redirects it into his own mouth. You don’t find it in you to be grumpy about the stolen treat when Boba’s tongue slides over your sticky fingers. Still holding your wrist captive, he sucks the tip of your thumb into the warm heat of his mouth and curls his tongue around the digit. Your index finger is given the same treatment before your hand is returned. The beginnings of arousal spark to life below your belly, and fuck—that shouldn’t have been so…so…hot.

Din’s smoky baritone fades into background noise as the entirety of your attention zero’s in on Boba’s mouth. You purse your lips and suck in a shaky breath, then return your hand to the bowl to fish out another fruit. You don’t need any guidance this time around as you bring the cherry to his mouth—the crimson juice spilling down your palm and part of your arm as his teeth pierce the fragile skin. You breath hitches as Boba dips his head, catching the bead of liquid running down your arm with the tip of his tongue, then swiping s a slow trail up, and over the lines of your palm. He plants a careful kiss there, then breaks away.

Before you have the chance to reach for another one, Boba plucks a cherry from the bowl and rests it against the seam of your lisp, inviting you to partake in this little game he’s created. A wicked smirk curls over his mouth as you accept—the tart flavor of the fruit spilling over your tastebuds as you chew and swallow. A little wine escapes you as his leather-clad thumb rolls over your bottom lip, bushes past the barrier of your teeth and seats the digit into your mouth—all the way down to the third knuckle.

You hardly notice the moment Din’s voice tapers off into silence—much too enraptured with the taste of leather and the smooth feel of it over your tongue. You gag slightly when Boba’s thumb reaches the back of your throat, then retreats just as slow. The string of saliva that still connects the digit to your wet mouth, drips over your chin and part of your lip, eliciting a jagged, echoey breath that crackles through Din’s vocoder.

Boba grins—something that better belongs on a sneering jackal just about to pounce on unsuspecting prey with needle sharp talons, rather than his face. His eyes drift up to address his guest. “Do you see something you like, Mand’alor?”

Din’s head jerks, averting his gaze to anywhere but the throne. He murmurs a weak apology and shifts his weight to his other leg—acting as if he were to look at you a second time, it’d burn him to a crisp or force him to confront Boba Fett’s wrath. Obviously, neither thing would happen, but Din still remains unsure with his foothold in this situation.

“I see how you look at her,” Boba drawls—not an accusation, just a statement brought to light. Boba’s hand drops to your thigh, the warm weight of it resting just past your knee as Din swallows his nerves and returns his gaze. “It’s alright—a pretty little thing like her is bound to turn heads.”

A blush hotter than wildfire licks up your cheeks as Din nods in agreement. “She’s beautiful…you’re a lucky man.”

Boba’s grip on your thigh hoards you closer to his chest. He is and he’s fully aware of that fact, but there’s no need to admit such a thing when it’s so blatantly obvious. A lull in the conversation creates a palpable tension—nervous energy and a choice to let this is fade into nonexistence or…or breathe life into that flickering ember of unsaid desires.

Your heart leaps into your throat when Boba shatters the silence and addresses you. “You’re awfully quiet, princess…what do you think?”

He’s placing whatever this is into your hand and leaving you to call the shots. You’ve always been a troublemaker and there’s no will or way as to why you’d stop now. You look between your lover and Din as a smile curls over your face. “I think…if he’s so interested—why not give him a show? After all, he did bring me home—he deserves some reimbursement for the trouble.”

Boba’s shoulders jolt with a chuckle. “How chivalrous.” You shiver as he strokes the back of his finger down your cheek. “Fine, as you wish, little one—go play.”

Giddy excitement bubbles through your chest as Boba offers Din to take a seat on the edge of the dais. Din still has an option to escape, to slip through the cracks and pretend this never happened—but stars, you hope he stays. Din takes a step forward, then another—and another until he’s standing before the throne. He studies the raised edge and gingerly takes a seat.

You abandon your bowl of cherries onto the forearm of the throne and slip off Boba’s lap. You drift over to Din, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching as they rest over his thigh plating. He’s purposefully avoiding your eye as you kneel beside him—still locked onto that niggling fear that this could be some sort of trick or test in resolve.

Smiling sweetly, you skate your hand over his knuckles—guiding his large palm to your waist and then under and up your loose shirt and bra. Din mutters a curse as you place his palm over your breast. “I’m glad you stayed.”

Pleased with his reaction, you peel off your shirt and bra, breath hitching as Din pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Same—I think…”

With a bit more bravery backing his movements, Din pulls away briefly, shucks off his gloves and encompasses both your breasts. They’re warm and calloused, riddled with silvery scars that stand out against his brown skin, a storybook of past battles—won and lost—all equally important to the fibers of his being that stitch him together into a whole. His hand whispers down the length of your ribcage, no doubt feeling the thrum of your heart beating wildly against the cartilage and bone. It tickles over the swell of your hips then—

“You said you wanted to give him a show,” Boba drawls behind you, a sharp twinge of hostility lacing his words. “So enjoy the show, Mand’alor, ’nd keep your hands to yourself."

Din recoils at the verbal reprimand and drops his hands speedier than a flash of lightning. You frown and throw a glare over your shoulder. Bastard. Boba quirks a brow and runs his thumb over his lip, the edged sparkle in his dark eyes taunting you into challenging him. You huff and turn a cold shoulder.

“Sorry, Din,” you purr, scrounging up any and all back up plans to keep you both entertained. “Seems my king isn’t as generous I thought.”

Din withers a bit at the catty remark, keeping his lips sealed tight as Boba growls your name in warning. You don’t pay him any mind.

You puff up your cheeks and release the air in a steady stream, as your eyes scrape over Din’s armored thigh. Ok—you can work with that. It wouldn’t be breaking any rules…not technically. You step away, paw at your waistband and let the breezy fabric pool over around your ankles, your underwear quickly joining the pile.

Now bare, you return to Din’s side, his careful inhale distorted into choppy static as you straddle his thigh. He lifts both hands, intending to grab at your waist, but pauses midair. No touching. You lips tilt with a smirk as he clenches his fists and pins his hands to the cool stone instead, an attempt to curb that urge to reach for you. His shoulders knit together when you mold your hand in the gap between his shoulder pauldron and cuirass to give yourself some sort of balance—obviously not used to a soft touch.

You lower yourself and hiss through clenched teeth. It’s fucking freezing. Goosebumps rush up each limb as the wet warmth of your cunt meets the frigid beskar—the chill much colder than you initially expected. It’s one thing to touch the beskar with an open palm and another thing entirely to feel against such an intimate part of yourself. Din’s visor drops to look between your legs as you give your hips an experimental roll.

It’s different. You’re used to hardened muscle and fabric, or your own fingers while pleasuring yourself. Your breath hitches as Din’s thigh twitches, the smelted seam of the cuisse bumping against your throbbing clit.

“Sorry,” Din mumbles, “Didn’t mean—“

“It’s ok,” you smile, rocking your hips to ease into the sensation. “Just surprised me.”

The pace you set is slow, careful not to overwork your nerves as your arousal blooms and metastasizes like simmering coals low in your groin. With each lecherous pull of your cunt against his thigh, the beskar begins to warm to the temperature of your skin—the wetness between your thighs abating the friction and making the surface slippery. A low gasp escapes you once you find the right ridge and angle that just grinds perfectly against your aching clit. Your fingers dig into the cowl of Din’s cloak.

“Shit—feels good.” Like your voice and little moans jumpstart Din’s ability to move, his large hand drifts to the front of his trousers—an already sizable bulge tenting the dark brown fabric. You squeak as Din's leg jolts for a second time, a burst of dizzying ecstasy wracking up your spine with the choppy movement.

You suck in another raspy breath as your attention drops to his hand that cups his cock and palms himself through his trousers. You chew your bottom lip and clench your fist gripping his cowl, still gyrating your hips over the beska as Din hooks his thumb into his waistband and pulls them down, slow as molasses.

Fucking hell—he’s bigger than you initially imagined. Flushed a rosy brown, and half hard already, twitching as Din wraps his fingers around the thick length. Din lifts his head, gauging your interest or disapproval—but kriff—who the fuck would ever be unhappy with that sorta heat he’s packing? You bite your bottom lip, scouring your brain for ideas to convince Boba into letting you taste Din—but your plotting is abruptly cut short.

Boba sits up and off the throne, his presence looming over your shoulder as he lowers to one knee. You shiver and arch your neck, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as Boba runs the fingertip of his pointer finger down the side of your cheek. “Are you enjoying yourself, princess?”

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as Boba opens his palm and cradles your jaw. You groan and roll your head back onto your shoulders as Boba snakes one hand around your hip and jolts you forward and down—disrupting the slow rock with a catastrophic interference. Unrefined bolts of plasma shoot up your spine as desire licks up thighs—you need more.

Boba dips his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You grunt when his teeth sink into your flesh, worrying a bruise into your skin. Boba laves his tongue over the throbbing area, then licks a wet trail up to the shell of your ear, all the while you continue to grind on Din’s thigh. Boba nibbles your earlobe and whispers your name—the sound sweeter than any symphony could ever hope to make. Like smoke over deep water or the surging crackle of energy just before a thunderstorm high up in the mountains.

“You’re allowed to touch…” he says with a rough chuckle. “Go on.”

Your noise of agreement is quickly muffled as Boba interrupts you with a feverish kiss—all open mouthed and breathless as his tongue curls around yours. Your chest heaves for precious air as Boba retreats just as abruptly as it began. With a satisfied smirk ghosting over his lips, he taps you below the chin and returns to his throne to continue observing.

Dropping your eyes between Din’s legs, his cock, hardened to its full glory and held casually in his calloused hand, is truly a sight. Your pulse thrums in your ears as Din rolls his wrist and pumps his length, the velvety skin shifting over what looks like fucking beskar underneath. It strains towards his navel as you watch with wide eyes, mesmerized with the way he touches himself.

Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you touch your hand to his wrist. Din shudders like your skin is made of sizzling embers that’s broken off the tail end of shooting star—like you’re something too luminous and dangerous to be handled by someone like him. You lift your gaze, smiling into that darkened void of the visor and gracing him with a toothy smile. “Will you let me touch you, Din?”

He nods and utters a breathy yes.

Fuck yeah.

Din sucks in a stuttered breath when your hand circles around his thick length. His hips jolt into your palm as you slide your fist to the base then all the way back up. Precum beads over the tip, dribbling down and coating your knuckles with sticky wetness. It eases some of that friction as you fall into an easy rhythm, matching your rocking hips with each pump of his cock.

Din’s stuttered moans fill the small space between you, dragging you closer to your release that’s suddenly so close. He whines as you abandon his length to chase after your high, your arousal leaking from your center and dripping down the sides of the beskar. Din takes his cock into his hands, fisting himself to your little show of breathy wines and rough jerking of your hips over his thigh.

Din says your name attached with a broken moan and it’s over—

Everything seizes up tighter than a jaw clamp as your tumble off that jagged peak of searing, white hot pleasure. It’s raw, sparking off like a blade to metal, burning you from the inside out as you cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your thighs shaking as you curl inward as if he punched you in the fucking gut. It feels like he did. Maker—the cool beskar against your throbbing clit is like you’ve been thrown to the mercies of an electrical surge.

It doesn’t help either that Din is still pumping his length, hips stuttering as he brings himself to his own euphoric high. The air in your lungs seizes when a fragile groan, light and airy passes through the vocoder. Din rocks his hips into his fist, once—twice and then he’s throbbing and cumming into his hand. Hot ropes of his release splatter up his chest plate and parts of your thighs, his helmet nearly knocking into you as he hunches foreword from the intensity of it.

Too exhausted to keep yourself upright, you smash your cheek against his cuirass, involuntarily twitching as the last little waves of pleasure prickle through the rest of your nerves. You whine as you watch Din move his hand to collect some of your wetness coating his thigh. He brings two fingers stained with your slick to the lip of his helmet, pushes it up with his thumb just far enough to sink the two digits into his mouth. He groans out a quiet fuck, and repeats the action, swiping his fingers through the mess you’ve made and feeding it to himself. Your cunt clenches as you catch a sliver of his pink tongue that twists between his thick fingers.

He groans and rolls his head back onto his shoulders. “Please—can I taste you? Fuck—I-I need my mouth on you.”

Stars—the mere idea of it stokes the dwindling flames into a blaze of want. You look up at Boba and puff out your bottom lip. Pouting and begging hardly ever gets you what you want under normal circumstances—Boba Fett is more stubborn than a rancor—but you hope just this once he’ll be lenient.

Boba holds out his gloved hand—summoning you to his lap without a lick of protest on your end. Din however makes a sound akin to a whimper when you leave him. Boba gathers you in his arms for the second time, the leather a strange sensation as it spiders down your ribcage and around your hips. You can feel his hardness poking into your backside once you settle against him—his chest plate a cold shock to your naked flesh. You shiver and bury your nose into the crook of his neck, poking your tongue out to taste him. Boba’s cock twitches under you as your teeth sink into him with a cheeky nip.

“Is that what you want, little one?” Boba rumbles in question. His right hand glides lower, grabbing a handful of your thigh and squeezing. You groan and keen out a whine of affirmation.

Boba cocks his head towards Din. “Well? You’ve got your wish—don’t keep her waiting.”

Din shakily stands—hesitating with removing his helmet for enough time that you notice the silence that follows. The vocoder crackles as Din sighs. “Do you trust her?”

“With my life.” Boba states it without a second thought. Your heart twists, golden light spilling from your lungs and staining your insides with devotion and fuzzy affection. You press a soft kiss over Boba’s jaw.

“Is she…” Din speaks a word in Mando’a you have no hope to decipher—either no direct translation or he’s purposefully left you in the dark.

Based on the way Boba almost imperceptibly tenses, you guess the latter. Boba responds with a grunt and an unsure dip of the chin. The answer is complicated—that much you can gather…you push it to the back of you brain for now.

Din nods, inhales, and steels his nerves. Plastering his hands around the shiny helmet, he tugs it off with a slow reveal of dark, patchy facial, plush lips and wavy brown hair that falls around his olive skin. And oh, his eyes—soft chestnut brown eyes that hold such ache within them—lost things, broken bones, wearing his wounds like decoration upon his chest. Forged in the flames of war, risen from the ashes with murder and mercy rolled into one.

You wish him a kinder future. One that doesn’t end with pain and a blaze of an unchecked wildfire—the same way how all heroes end up as martyrs.

Though—right now—you can be the beginning of softer things for Din. You smile and invite him closer, a vortex of anxiety peppered with arousal as his eyes flit over your naked body. He sets his helmet to the side with care and drifts to the foot of the throne—fuck, he’s broad. Why hadn’t you noticed that before?

Your mental berating is severed when cool air meets the wet heat of your cunt as Boba hooks your thighs over his knees, spreading you wide as far as your hips allow. Din’s unfiltered moan at the sigh of you, sends a volt of electricity through every vein. Din lowers himself to one knee, and then the other, shuffling between yours and Boba’s legs.

“Can I touch?” He asks, soft brows raising in question.

Boba lazily raises two fingers in a motion of permission. Your chest tightens at the sight of Din’s boyish grin—warm palms settling over the sharp bend of your knees. His thumbs trace soothing circles over the skin and right as Din decides to swoop down, Boba catches him by the hair atop his head and yanks. Din grunts—the long, arched line of his neck a tempting sight as he swallows. “No marks.” Din’s jaw clenches, but nonetheless, he agrees to Boba’s command.

Boba hums in satisfaction and untangles his fingers from the mess of Din’s soft curls. Din’s brows pinch together for half a tick but smooth out in the next breath. No use being irritated—especially right now.

As directed, Din leaves not a scratch. Instead he scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth along the insides of your thighs, threatening to catch soft flesh between them—but he knows better than to act on the urge. He laves his warm tongue over each freckle or blemish he finds, leaving no patch of skin undiscovered as licks a steady trail to his prize. Din mouths a warm kiss over the crease of your thigh, and smooths his calloused hands over your hips, settling for a moment to trace little circles with his thumbs onto the soft protrusion of bone there. Seemingly satisfied, he then shifts them closer to your aching cunt. His hot breath fans over your cunt as he uses his thumbs to glide through your folds, almost curious with his exploration. He makes a little hum of appreciation low in his throat when the pads of his thumbs part your soaking folds.

You whimper and bury your face into the crook of Boba’s neck, his warm palms a much needed comfort as they tickle down your ribcage, then sweep back up to cup your tits. You cry and arch— Din’s tongue is scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your cunt all the way up to your clit. Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through your abdomen. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—kriff.

Fuck, you need more.

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are transfigured and molded into a vicious loop—beginning with those adoring brown eyes, the color of freshly tilled earth and the warmth of sunlight over dappled aspen leaves in the balmy summer afternoons. It ends with soft lips—rose petal pink with devotion crystallizing in his mouth like sugar—madness and uncertainty and lovesick desire is all that he is and you’re not sure if you’ll come out of this unscathed.

He sinks two deliciously thick fingers into your clenching hole and curls them, only to retract them a moment later to shovel more of your wetness onto his tongue—as if simply using his mouth wasn’t enough for him. Like he needs to savor every drop of your arousal like the golden ambrosia the gods feast upon in their palaces of cloud and endless twilight.

That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade away like a hand through fog—but you’re going nowhere. You’d stay here, suspended in time forever if the choice were up to you.

You whine and arch off Boba’s chest plate as Din strokes and curls his fingertips, plucking little gasps and moans from you easier than breathing. He zeros in on that little spot that makes your leg go all jittery and forces out high pitched mewls that echo through the throne room. You’re careening towards another high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure.

“Stars—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must sting—at least a little bit. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth.

Your release zips through your body like a flash flood—quick and fatal that leaves you gasping for air and struggling not to let your head dip below the waves. Your high seeps into each limb until they feel heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to work through the muddled thought and remember where exactly you are. You groan and toss your head back as Din keeps going.

“Another one—let me—“ He moans, opening his mouth as wide as it’ll go so he can devour more of you. You can feel the mixture of saliva and your own arousal dripping down your cunt and over your thighs, some of it pooling on the throne or onto the floor. Your thighs shake as Din pushes you towards another high.

You squeak as Boba’s palm sweeps up your sternum, locking his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. The tip of his nose nuzzles into your cheek—silently demanding a well earned kiss as his hips rock into your ass, grinding his cock for the barest scrap of friction. You moan into his mouth as Din doubles his efforts, raw and bordering that serrated edge of overstimulation and ecstasy.

Goosebumps rush over your arm as Boba places his lips right beside the shell of your ear. You feel the sticky heat of his breath fan over your throat and shoulder, and the way his lips skim your ear when they move to form the syllables of his words. “Such a filthy princess…”

You clench around Din’s fingers and moan a half garbled, “Boba—“

His weathered palm encompasses the entirety of your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “If only you could see yourself…dripping all over my throne and another man’s tongue.” Boba clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Depraved creature—cum for your rightful king.”

Wildfire chars your insides as it begins in your core and sweeps through your body. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you buck and squirm in their arms—no mercy as the prickly waves of your orgasm make you hypersensitive to each touch. Even the hold on your hip, while innocent in nature, is blistering as if you suffered from a fever. You shudder as a salty tear rolls down your cheek. Boba catches it with his tongue as your ears pick up Din’s raspy praise—thanking you while spattering reverent kisses up your thighs.

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you do spot the apparent wetness soaking through the front of Din’s trousers. Fuck—he—he came again while eating you out. You whimper and rest the back of your head over Boba’s shoulder.

Your belly flinches under his scratchy facial hair as Din travels up, seizing and worshiping every inch he’s freely given before intercepted. He catches your nipple between your teeth, tugs a bit then moves to the other, lavishing equal attention with adoring lips and sweet whispers. When he reaches your collarbone, you’re boxed in against his chest plate and Boba’s. A blush blooms under your cheeks hotter than stare fire as Din gingerly sucks your earlobe into his mouth and breathes out a muted moan of your name—committing the very essence of you to his memory for the rest of his days.

Your heart squeezes tight like a clenched fist when he mumbles another thank you. Plucking up a smidge of courage, he risks planting a kiss right on the corner of your mouth. You blink—despite the sweetness of the gesture you wince as Boba snarls a curt phrase in Mando’a. Din peels himself away with a minuscule frown and slinks away.

Yet before you have the chance to remedy the situation of wounded pride and territorial jealousy—Boba tightens his hold on your hips and flips you both, so that now your back is smashed against the seat of the throne, a bit crumpled and sorta folded in half. Your hips hang off the edge as Boba holds the majority of your weight, grinding his clothed cock between the apex of your thighs.

“Don’t forget, princess—” Boba barks, slithering a hand up the column of your throat. You breath hitches as he lightly presses his palm down. “—what belongs to me.”

Reaching between you, he slides his gloved fingers through your slick folds and sinks two of them inside of your clenching center. You jolt as his thumb scrubs over your clit, still sensitive and edging towards too much.

“You want me to fuck you here?” He asks, shifting his hold to grip your jaw instead—the rounds of his fingertips digging firmly into the flesh and bone. “Say it.”

You gasp and scrabble weakly at Boba’s shoulders as he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me—I need it.”

Boba folds over you, his breath fanning hot and hungry against your cheek. He devours your mouth with a discordant edge, like he’s trying to prove to the entire galaxy you are unmistakably his despite the fact you’re already wound so tightly around his fingers. Boba wrenches himself free and tears at his robe and trousers to free his thick length, leaking and flushed a rosy brown at the tip. He doesn’t keep either of you waiting as he removes his fingers and replaces them with something bigger.

You both groan as he lines himself up with your entrance and sinks into you, a delicious stretch that leaves you shivering beneath him. “Fuck—so wet for me.”

The first roll of his hips makes an obscene noise that showers shame down your throat, but it’s quickly kicked to the back of your brain as he slams back into your cunt—obliterating all thoughts save for him. Boba’s lip curls over his teeth as he claws at your thighs and yanks them over his shoulder, crushing you even further between the throne and the weight of his body. Each stroke is a liquid fire, tearing you apart at the seems while at the same time stitching you back together and leaving your body begging for more. Like this, it’s as if he’s reaching the deepest part of you, pounding into your cunt and hitting every nerve with deadly precision. Your legs prickle with the stretch as you squirm beneath him, stuck with the brunt of rough thrusts and violent stamina with nowhere to go.

“Bein’ such a good girl for me." He hums into the juncture of where your neck meets your shoulders. He sucks a mark there and tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of you neck, forcing you into a steeper arch. “Maker, you look so fuckin’ pretty stretched around my cock.”

Your walls clench tight around him as you dig your nails into the fabric of his cowl. You voice cracks with airy moans—attempting to work through the haze of lust and respond. All that tumbles from your lips is a pathetic whine of his name—so close to that precipice again.

The friction of each thrust scraping against your clit, the way he fills you and the possessive hand curled over your throat. You wiggle an arm between your bodies and rub the little bundle of nerves in a frenzied half-circle. You wheeze as Boba increases the pressure over your throat.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands as devastating ripples begin to spark through your core, a live wire an inch away from a puddle of water. “Tell me—“

“You! It’s you—“ You sob, desperate for another release only he can give. “I’m yours—“

Boba snickers and gives your throat another squeeze. “Cum on my cock.”

There we go.

You seize and cry out, violent shivers forcing your back to arch high off the throne and into his chest plate. It tears through your being, quick and deadly through your core, spreading to every nerve and shredding through it with molten pleasure. Boba’s voice is a gravelly scrape that vibrates next to your ear, sprinting towards his own deserved euphoria. Your climax still boiling through your blood, is dragged out as Boba continues thrusting—an endless echo that leaves you incredibly oversensitive sore. For the next few moments, his thrusts are too sharp, the grip he has on you too abrasive—but then he’s cumming too. A couple more rough jabs and then he’s seating himself deep inside your cunt, his warm release coating your insides with thick ropes.

You’re panting breaths fill the air between you, settling like fresh snow over a silent wood. By the time Boba pulls out, leaving behind a sticky trail of his cum and your arousal over the throne, you’re toeing the line of hazy unconsciousness.

“Such a good girl,” Boba praises, threading fingers through hair and tracing the lines of your face. The the soft drone of his voice mixed with Din’s gentle baritone, murmuring something you don’t catch, casts a dreamy haze over your reality. You’re not afraid that this could back fire and blow up in your face—to move inches from two serrated blades, each seeking for a taste of blood and flesh, is always a risk. But yet, the calloused hands and the sweetness of brown eyes reach through chaos and silence to offer you salvation. You take it with a smile.

You should invite Din over more often…you think, as you slip into content sleep.

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claybrownie7566 · 3 years

Note

Here is a prompt for you:

No matter how well loved a hero may be, there will always be some that hate them. So what would happen if during a supply run, someone gets separated and they find themselves in less than friendly company.

@secretlysheikah

Oh life of the hero, never forget

It had not been an easy day. There was a long trek ahead of them, and they were frustratingly low on supplies.

Thankfully Warrior's castle town wasn't too far from their current location.

Weary boots marched through the heavy gates. Most of the time the hustle and bustle of the town was rejuvenating, refreshing. But today all nine heroes were spent. They hardly spoke to each other, aching muscles and drooping eyelids straining to keep up with each step.

Wind helped Twilight park Epona near a water trough. The rancher nodded to everyone, a silent understanding passing between each of them.

Wordlessly, they split into their usual groups. Time, Hyrule, and Wild

Legend, Sky, and Four

Twilight, Wind, and Warriors.

The others set out, and the captain made his way to the horseman and the sailor, giving Epona a pat for good measure.

Too tired to speak, he raised two crossed fingers and shook it.

Ready?

Twilight nodded, but Wind stared at the ground. Now that the two older heroes were looking at him, they began to notice how weary he really was.

His hands gripped the trough, and he leaned on it heavily, a slight tremor becoming more and more apparent.

Twilight put a hand on Wind's shoulder, and the latter peered up at him.

The rancher's chest heaved, his own balance precarious at best. He brought a splayed hand up to his chest.

Fine? He asked, his eyebrows knit.

Wind sighed, and his knees buckled. Twilight caught him, and lowered him so his back rested against the wood of the water station. Epona nuzzled his head.

Twilight looked up at Warriors and the captain nodded.

Twi would stay here with their friend. Besides, Wars knew the town well, and would be back to help quickly.

He ruffled Wind's hair gently, and kissed Epona's mane.

"Take care of em" he whispered, before trudging off into the streets.

**********

He liked walking through castle town. It was starting to return to normal after the war, and seeing it thrive calmed Warriors tired heart.

His boots padded along the cool cobblestone, and he took in a deep breath as he passed the local bakery. Smells of orange and cinnamon and fresh bread wafted through the open windows. Warriors smiled contently. As exhausted as he was, he was happy to be home.

He made his way down the busy, crowded street and stopped in front of a cart selling leather goods. There was saddle polish, scabbards, belts, and various pouches and bags for different things. He knew that Hyrule and Wild both had awfully worn pockets with holes and tears. Wild was just complaining the other day of losing all his herbs due to a faulty clasp.

He smirked at the memory, and looked the wares over.

He looked up to read the sign, and locked eyes with an older woman, maybe in her fifties or sixties. He smiled softly and nodded in greeting. The woman said nothing, and stared at him with a gaze carved from stone.

Warriors looked back down, not wanting to upset the vendor with too much eye contact. He picked up a small pouch, about the size of his hand and looked it over, fiddling with the top of the pouch to test it's seal.

This would be perfect for Wil-

The woman snatched the leather from his hands.

Warriors shook his head slightly, very startled and confused.

"Oh umm-" he began.

"Get away you castle rat" she spat. Warriors eyes widened, and he took a step back.

"Uhh I....what did I-" he stammered, not understanding what he did wrong. The woman called behind her to someone in the building the cart was parked in front of.

Warriors didn't want to cause a scene, and he didn't know what he did wrong, but he decided it would be best if he left. He took another step away from the cart when a Man walked out. Warriors looked at him, and the man sneered.

"Oh" he seethed, "it is the hero."

Something jagged splintered and lodged itself in his heart. The way these people looked at him, it was as if he was the dirt beneath their shoes.

Suddenly the woman yelled, loud enough for everyone in the square to hear.

"Here comes the hero all dressed in his armor! Here comes the blue silk the Kingdom worships! The silk that should be dyed red with the blood of the innocent he has slayed" her eyes hardened further.

"All you brought to this kingdom was war and ruin. And the queen has the nerve to call you a hero."

A crowd of people had gathered. His gaze fell upon too many faces. He saw too many angry looks, too many bitter souls that wanted to rip him to pieces.

"Ma'am I-I don't.....I didn't mean to-"

The man barreled around the cart, shoving Wars hard, "It was you, you know! How many soldiers died because they had blind faith on you? How many Innocents were slaughtered by monsters because you weren't fast enough? Where is your glory now hero? Where is your flashy sword and your battalion of worshipers kneeling at your feet?" The man spat on the ground near where Wars stood.

"Sir, I'm sorry if I have offended you somehow, but I am not a perfect man! I did my best and I was young! Please!" He was shocked at how shattered his voice sounded. At how small he felt, at how sick he felt.

They were right weren't they?

The woman pointed furiously at Wars.

"I never want to see you at my booth again you snake!"

"You are not welcome here!" The man frowned, "go beg with the dogs."

He was shocked. His voice left him, and he no longer had the ability to speak. He stared again at the hateful glares all around him, and began walking carefully away. Someone tried to kick him as he passed, leaving a fresh bruise on his already aching legs.

Once he had escaped the swarm of people, he ducked into alleys and weaved his way into a part of the town no one would look for him in.

There was a pair of cellar doors that stuck up from the ground between two stone buildings. He looked around him to make sure he hadn't followed, and slowly sank behind the raised wood.

The stone was cool against his back, easing a miniscule portion of his soreness. He put his elbows on his knees, and sank further into the stone. It seemed to accept him, to embrace him.

No one shall disturb you here little hero.

He bowed his head, hiding his face in the crook of his arm and wept. The sound was not loud, it was not forced or seeking any sort of comfort. It was simply tired, and sad.

That's exactly what he was.

Tired. Sad. Hurt.

The alley did not echo his faint sobs, the noise of the town muting any sound he made, which wasn't much.

I knew they hated me. I knew it. I knew it.

I'm a failure. I failed them, and they hate me for it.

How many of those people lost sons, husbands, and brothers to the war? How many of his men never came home because of him?

Too many.

He knew he deserved it, but that didn't take away the pain.

He knew they were probably hurting, bit that didn't take away his despair.

He knew Zelda loved him, but that didn't take away his shame in bearing the title of Hero.

How many sons?

His breaths turned ragged, and fresh tears fell from his eyes. He pressed a hand to his forehead, and watched the droplets leave his face and patter to the stone beneath him.

His chest ached. He was tired. He was so tired.

He took in a deep breath and looked around the alley.

A figure ducked behind the corner.

His heart jumped, and he held his breath, expecting another angry villager to come glare at him.

Instead, he was met with small hands, and big brown eyes peeking around the edge.

It was a little girl.

He exhaled, and the girl gave a tiny wave.

Despite his current state, Warriors managed a small smile as he waved back.

The girl grinned, and took a step toward him, entering the alley with a skip in her step. She trotted over to him, her dress bouncing around her knees, the small bag at her side bumping against her. She looked to be about nine, and when she smiled, Wars could see a tooth missing.

"I found you" she peeped, tilting her head.

Warriors tilted his to match, "did you now?" He asked, "and what made you decide to do that?"

The girl's face slowly turned sad, guilty even.

"I saw all those people shout at you in the square. They were very mean to you." She glared slightly at the ground, "I don't think people should be allowed to be mean to you. Or to anyone, but really extra to you." Her head tilted back up, and she smiled softly at him.

Warriors looked at her curiously and sighed, "and why is that?"

The girl beamed, which took Wars by surprise.

"Because you're the best captain that ever was. I know because my big brother Makar told me so. He told me he got to fight with you, and that you were the kindest, bravest warrior he ever met" she said proudly.

Warriors was about to comment, but she continued.

"And my mama says that without you, Makar might not have come home. She said that you were smart, and that you always helped everyone you could. That's why people shouldn't be mean to you! You're a hero! At least to us."

Warriors felt his chest ache again, different this time. A good ache.

He felt new tears prick at his eyes. Different this time. Good tears.

He shook his head in awe at the little girl before him.

Did she know how meaningful her words were? How deeply they pierced his soul?

"Do you know something?" He said, his voice hoarse, "those were some wonderful things you just told me......it doesn't feel good to have people say mean things to you."

The girl shook her head, "I know that, and I saw it made you sad, so I thought I'd come and make you feel better."

Warriors smiled at her again, "do you know what that makes you?"

"What?" She whispered.

"It makes you a hero. You just became my hero" he said.

Oh how she lit up. She grinned ear to ear, and clasped her hands in front of her. Her eyes sparkled with pride and joy, and it warmed Warriors to his core.

Slowly, and with a grunt of effort, he pushed himself up from the ground, dusting off his back.

The little girl gasped and reached for her bag.

"Mister, I almost forgot, please wait!"

The captain stayed still, and watched as she rifled through her pouch. When her hand emerged, she smiled up at him, and showed him what she had.

There were two leather pouches, the same size as the ones he was looking at in the market. The only difference was one was dyed green, and the other red. She took his hand, and placed them on his palm.

"We just made these a few days ago. I told Makar and mama about the mean leather workers and she told me to find you and give you these....I hope they're okay."

Warriors looked at the little pockets in his hand. They were hand sewn, and strong. The leather was fresh and pliable, and sealed from the dye.

"These are beautiful" he said, awestruck and infinitely grateful. "Thank you so much."

The little girl bounced, "I'm glad you like them! Oh oh! Makar said he left you something inside the green pouch, you should see! It's really good!"

Warriors opened the green pouch carefully, and shook the contents into his other hand.

A chord was wrapped around something hard. He unraveled it to find a beautifully polished wooden ring, with the symbol of the triforce on it. There was also a slip of parchment. He brought it up to read.

Hello sir. My sister Mala told me the people were a bit rough on you in the market today. I know you probably don't remember me, but I had the privilege of serving under your command for eight months. You inspired and protected me. You showed valor and humility, and boundless courage through it all. You are the bravest man I have ever met, and I can never repay you for all you have done for me, my family, and my Kingdom. May this ring remind you of what you mean to people like us. And may you live a long and happy life.

With gratitude, and best wishes,

- Makar

Warriors knelt on one knee before his new little friend. He extended his hand to her.

She leapt into his arms instead. He gasped, taking a moment to process before returning the hug gently. She squeezed his neck, and hugged him tightly.

Her hug would give Wind's a run for their money.

She pulled back, and he held up a finger for her to wait.

"You, my friend. Have done a good thing today. And so has your family. And I think that a hero deserves a medal, don't you?" He grinned as he pulled one of his pins from his shoulder. His scarf fell awkwardly to one side, but he could care less.

He took her hand, and placed the pin in her hand.

"This was given to me by Queen Zelda herself. She gave it to me for being brave. I want you to have it. And I want your family to always remember how grateful I am for their kindness."

She stared at the polished silver in her hands like it was the real Triforce. She trembled with excitement, and raised her hand to salute the captain.

He saluted back, then rose. He placed the leather pouches in his own bag, then placed the ring on the chord and looped it around his neck, silently vowing never to take it off.

"Nice to meet you, little hero" he said.

She waved as he walked away.

Warriors looked back one last time as he exited the alleyway, thanking Hylia for people like her to remind him what he fought for. What he so desperately and tirelessly sought to preserve, no matter the scorn that came with it.

As long as I am a hero in their eyes, I will die a satisfied man.

He held on tightly to his new-found, prized possession as he made his way back to join the others.

Everytime he felt lesser than he was. Everytime his heart threatened to fail him. Everytime his courage and energy felt spent. He thought of the ring around his neck, and smiled.

And got back up.

And fought harder.

And he never forgot.

#Brownie bites #secretlysheikah #ask #linked universe #linked universe fic

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deniigi · 3 years

Note

I love the fic you showed on Luke, Han, Chewie being kidnapped by the trio- I would love to see more! Is there a chance we might see that fic or sections of it? I hope you are having a great day!

You may see more sections of it! It’s like 30k because I have zero self control sometimes, so idk if I will post the whole thing, but snippets I can do!

I wrote a fuckin’ hilarious bit where Han tells Paz that Luke’s got a crush on Din. Paz thinks about Din’s sexuality for .05 seconds and immediately has an anxiety attack that Din feels like he’s got to hide his queerness.

He brings it up with Din, who promptly astral projects in embarrassment.

--------------

This was a reconnaissance mission now. One which Luke was again having fun on. With Djarin refusing to speak to his comrade, Luke wriggled right into the place he’d left behind and started agitating again. He goaded Djarin and Fett that he could shave hours off the current course time. Han and Chewie hung back and strategically did not back up a damn thing he said.

Paz, uncomfortable to be on any ship that was not his own, clutched at his fingers and watched Luke chasing Djarin like an underfoot puppy in concern.

“What does he want from Din?” he asked Han and Chewie quietly.

Han blinked slowly.

“He’s got a crush,” he said.

Paz’s helmet managed to blanch.

“You’re kidding,” he said.

“Yeah, your boy’s ticking every one of Luke’s boxes, I’m afraid,” Han said while Chewie snickered. “He’s already decided on a destination wedding.”

Paz rubbed a few knuckles under the edge of his helmet and looked away.

“I dunno if the Armorer’s gonna be cool with that,” he said.

Han snorted.

“Armor isn’t strong enough for him, he’s got mind powers,” he said.

Paz’s helmet turned slightly back towards him.

“The Armorer is Din’s parent,” he said. “She leads the teachings at our covert.”

AHA. Orthodox. Han had it now. Djarin was a preacher’s son.

“I don’t know what that means,” Paz said.

“Don’t worry, I got you,” Han told him sympathetically. “It’s okay, though. People are more tolerant than you think.”

“I still don’t know what that means,” Paz repeated.

“You will,” Han soothed, “You will.”

It was an hour before Paz blurted out, “Wait you mean he’s gay?” and Han almost cried, he was laughing so hard.

This was supposed to be a hostage situation, but Paz was making this trip a pleasure cruise. He’d gotten about fourteen thousand times more awkward around both Luke and Djarin anytime they passed by. Luke had caught onto this with interest.

Han did nothing to stop him. He and Chewie finally had entertainment after hours and hours of torture.

Paz inched away.

“I’m happy for you,” he told Luke. “It’s fine.”

Luke cocked his head at him and got closer.

“No, man. Not me, sorry,” Paz said. “You got—you got Din. He’s—well, honestly the last I saw him he was like, fifteen and sort of scrawny, but you know he’s probably grown a couple muscles by now.”

Luke lit up.

“I know, he picked me up,” he said.

Paz vibrated.

“Mm-hm,” he said.

“Do you think he likes me?” Luke asked him.

Paz vibrated so hard his armor nearly started knocking against itself.

“He’s really into ancient Tusken shit,” he said. “Ask him about ancient Tusken shit.”

Luke’s eyes couldn’t get any wider or rounder. Any more of this and his pupils would start dilating, too.

“Copy that,” he said, then vanished.

Chewie whimpered and wiped tears from his eyes. Han leaned into his side and grinned so wide his face hurt.

Luke took to flattening himself against the cockpit door and serenading Djarin in the other side with pleas for information about Ancient Tusken culture. Djarin was understandable baffled. He smelled a rat and refused to be forthcoming with any new knowledge.

That made Luke caterwaul louder until Fett had enough of him and locked Djarin out of the cockpit too, with instructions to ‘silence the Jedi before I do permanently.’

Djarin was now stuck out here with the rest of them. He crouched in front of Luke and they had a staring contest for a good two minutes before Djarin got up and sighed.

“You have so much energy,” he said. “No wonder Grogu likes you.”

Luke rocketed up to stand next to him proudly.

“I don’t sleep most nights,” he said.

Djarin studied him.

“I see that,” he said.

“Han and Leia say that I’m a ‘hostile’ bedpartner when I do,” Luke said with finger quotes for Djarin’s benefit.

Djarin, Han swore, was trying to think of a polite way to say, ‘Sir, I think you’re at breaking point.’ But instead he said, ‘do you like tea?’ to which Luke said, ‘absolutely not.’ Djarin told him that he had a great tea for him to try and was thereafter followed into the Falcon’s kitchenette around the corner.

Paz, in the meantime, was absolutely shitting himself. No longer able to avoid this conversation with Djarin.

“I think it’s cute,” Han goaded with Chewie nudging his ribs the whole time.

“The Armorer will not approve,” Paz insisted.

Djarin had done the impossible: he’d put Luke to sleep. He delicately removed the mug of (possible sleep medication) tea from Luke’s unconscious deathgrip and asked Han where the used dishware went. That was thoughtful. Han told him to just stick it any damn place around the sink and he or Chewie would get to it.

He did and then came back to settle in next to Paz. Paz visibly experienced a rainbow of emotions. Djarin didn’t notice a single one of them. Instead, he crossed his legs and held the orange tips of one hand in the orange tips of the other.

“I wanted to apologize, Paz,” he said. “After what you’ve sacrificed for me and the kid, I should have been more grateful.”

“D—don’t mention it,” Paz stammered. “It’s—it’s the Way.”

“It is the Way,” Djarin agreed. “I think I was afraid of how to face all of you afterwards.”

Han could hear Paz’s internal scream from here.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll bet you, uh, did. It—it wasn’t the first time, was it?”

Djarin sat up a little straighter.

“No. How did you know?” he asked.

Paz shivered.

“Just a feeling,” he said. “You know, uh. Din. You don’t have to be ashamed of anything, right? You’re—you’re like my little brother. I wouldn’t let anything happen to you or anyone say anything to you. Okay?”

Awwwwwwwww.

Djarin looked up into Paz’s visor.

“Are you sick?” he asked.

“What? No. I’m. I’m saying, that if you ever had something you wanted to tell me, or you know, any of us. We’re always here to listen,” Paz said. “And to support you.”

Djarin’s silver helmet tilted worriedly.

“I already did,” he said.

“GREAT,” Paz said. “Perfect. You’re doing amazing.”

Djarin pulled back, officially disturbed.

“Right,” he said slowly. “So I’m gonna—”

“Listen, kid,” Paz said, grabbing the strap between Djarin’s chest and back plates and dragging him back down to sitting. “Think about your parent.” He took Djarin’s hand from where he was actively trying to escape and held it in a firm, masculine grip. “She loves you, you know that.”

“Paz, I’m panicking,” Djarin said outloud.

“And she was so happy for you to have a foundling,” Paz carried on like plough. “So she’s gonna be happy for you, no matter what.”

Djarin could not pull his hand out of Paz’s grip, and boy was he trying. He’d started a cool descent to the floor, he was trying so hard.

“I know,” he grated out.

“But a jedi, Din?”

“He can’t help it, man,” Djarin said, still struggling almost on his back now. “You said it yourself. It’s a born-with-it thing.”

Paz stared forcefully at his knuckles.

“You’re right,” he said, letting out a slow breath. “But if that’s how it gonna be, you really should propose first.”

Djarin’s helmet somehow managed to emote ‘shock’ on the ground there.

“I’m sorry, what?” he asked. “I barely knew her.”

“Her?” Paz asked, then caught himself. “Sorry, sorry. Not my business—”

“It was like, a week at most—”

“Not my business.”

“And yeah, she had a great kid and—”

“Wait, wait, hold up,” Paz said. “Who are you talking about?”

Djarin stared.

“My friend? From Sorgen?” he said. “Who are you talking about?”

Paz went very still.

“You’re fuckin’ some gal on Sorgen?” he asked.

“No?” Djarin said. “I mean. She wanted to, and I thought about it, but it was only a week, and I didn’t want her to feel like I’d used her only for—who are you talking about?”

“The jedi,” Paz said, pointing at Luke’s languid, curled up self on the table’s bench.

“Why would I be fucking the jedi?” Djarin asked. “He’s my son’s teacher, Paz.”

“Because he’s crushing on you?” Paz asked, equally upset and confused. “And you’re gay, so?”

“I’m what?”

“Gay????”

“I am??”

Han was crying. Han was sobbing.

These idiots were days of comedy. Look at them go. Look at ‘em spin.

“Din, please. You don’t have to fake it. I support you—”

“I didn’t ask for your support?”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of—”

“I’m not ashamed.”

“Are you sure? Because I’m picking up some strong feelings. And I don’t want you to think that—”

“Paz, what I want more than anything for you to do right now is to stop thinking. I’m not gay.”

Paz pressed a hand against his helmet like he was in physical pain.

“But the way you always looked at Teyo,” he said.

Djarin had a tiny stroke and slammed his fist into Paz’s arm.

“DON’T MENTION—”

“What the FUCK, brat?”

“HOW DARE YOU—”

“Why’re you yellin’ at me now??”

“Why’re you bringing up some childhood shit, haven’t we done enough of that already?”

“Why’re you so mad? I’m tryin’ to be supportive. If you wanna fuck the Jedi, fuck the Jedi. I’m just sayin’ maybe don’t tell the Armorer until after you’ve done it, so she doesn’t think you’re under some kinda mind-trick or somethin’, alright?”

Han no longer needed those helmets. He had these characters down. Djarin was gaping now. In shock and offense.

“Never speak to me again,” he decided.

“Bro,” Paz said.

“NO.”

“Karkin’ hell, Din. What’s your problem?”

“Excuse me, I must drown, where are your facilities?” Djarin asked Han directly.

“Round the corner, on the left,” Han told him.

“No, no, no,” Paz said, grabbing Djarin by the cape and dragging him back. “We gotta talk about this. We gotta process.”

“I’m not processing shit with you,” Djarin said. “I am not fucking the jedi.”

“But you want to,” Paz deduced.

“I—what? Wh—do you want me to have relations with him? Did I miss something?” Djarin asked.

“I want you to feel supported,” Paz said.

“I don’t. I feel targeted,” Djarin said. “Stop targeting me.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop.”

“Good. Let go.”

“But if—”

“Paz, I’m going to behead myself.”

“If you do want to have sex with the jedi, later. That’s fine. Or anyone else. That’s fine, too.”

“BOBA.”

Behold. A breaking point.

#fic #paz vizsla #din djarin #the mandalorian #I literally just want to write Din and Paz fighting and being secretly protective of each other 24/7 #idk if that's been made clear yet #do you think I'm being too subtle?#ficlet

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 3 years

Text

The Scar

Requested by the awesome @gothicsprinkles who wanted funny and soft and only got... embarrassment instead xD Forgive me!

It’s really warm so Corin doesn’t bother wearing his shirt to bed. He knows he will have a human Mandalorian heater attaching himself to Corin the second they settle for the night and if he’s going to get any sleep with Din doing that in this kind of temperature, Corin has to wear as few layers as possible.

After a quick check on the little bean, sound asleep in his crib, Corin crawls into bed and settles next to where Din is propped up by pillows and is waiting to attack.

He’s not wearing his armor, only his helmet and the layers of regular clothing, feeling secure in the bosom of the Covert, and it’s nice to see him somewhat relaxed for a change. It would be even nicer to see him entirely relaxed in just a t-shirt and sweatpants like Corin usually wears to bed, but Corin knows not to press his good luck. This is good. It’s more than enough.

To Corin’s surprise, Din doesn’t just attach himself to him like a shady rumor, but lies on his side, removes his right glove and reaches out to draw light fingertips over the scar left by a blaster shot that should have claimed Corin’s life but ended up saving it in countless ways instead.

Corin sucks in his stomach a little, despite knowing he’s never been in better shape in his life. He just can’t help it.

“You were a Trooper for so many years,” Din mumbles, his touch light on the scar and soon trailing over his abs, “how is it that you have so few scars?”

Looking down at his own torso, Corin knows the answer but he’s not proud of it. “At first, I had good luck and… friends on my side. That kept me safe most of the time.” He holds out his arm and shows a barely visible scar, a really faint line across his upper arm. “I did take a shot to the arm once, though.” Corin lowers his arm and places his hand on Din’s back instead. “After they… After that, I just made sure not to be at the front wherever we were sent. There were plenty of young idiots like me looking to make a name for themselves and play the hero, I just let them. They were the ones who got the scars. Or got killed. I just focused on getting my ass transferred to the Blizzard Force.”

Din’s helmet nods thoughtfully.

“What’s the scar on your back from?” Corin asks, having seen and noticed it earlier when they… well, he’d noticed it.

“Oh, that.” Din gives a quiet, amused laugh. “Well, it was my third bounty job and-”

His life as a Mandalorian has left Din with a whole bunch of scars and one crazy story after another to go with them. Corin goes from smothering laughter behind a hand to staring with horrified wonder at how this man is still alive.

“What about that one?” Corin eventually asks, reaching out and pulling Din’s sleeve up a little to reveal a thin, modest scar on his underarm.

“That? That’s nothing. Nothing at all. Ignore that one.” Din tugs his sleeve down and covers it back up. He turns to trail fingertips over Corin’s scar in silence.

At first, Corin’s gut instinct is to apologize, thinking he’d overstepped and accidentally uncovered some painful memory, but then his brain points out how there had been no hurt or defensiveness to Din’s voice. No, it has sounded more like… embarrassment?

Corin’s curiosity sits up and pays attention.

“Din…” Corin drawls, sliding his hand up from Din’s back to gently squeeze the man’s neck and has him arching into the touch with a faint sound of approval. “Din, tell me about the scar on your arm…”

“It’s nothing.” Din mumbles. Definitely embarrassed!

“Come on…” Corin whines playfully, shaking Din a little by the scruff. “Tell meeeeeee…”

Din answers by manhandling Corin over on his side so Din can curl up behind him and hold him tight, too tight to squirm away. “I told you, it was nothing. Sleep now. You’re tired.”

“I’m not tired. Tell me about the scar on your arm, Din Djarin.”

“Shhhhh.” Din shushes him and when Corin lifts his head to glare back at him, Din shoves it back down against the pillow. “Shhhhhh.”

Fine. Din wins the battle, but he has not won the war.

Paz has picked his laser cannon apart and is cleaning each piece with as much affection as he shows Raga. He glances up with mild surprise when Corin sits down next to him in the common area. “What do you want?”

Corin glances over and sees Din is busy talking to aforementioned Raga by the door and decides to go for it. “Din has a scar on his right arm. His underarm. Do you know how he got it?”

Several things happen at once. Paz sits up straight, Din makes a startled sound and bolts towards them, and Raga trips Din.

Corin hears Din’s impact with the ground, his furious shout when Raga holds him down with a painful knee to his lower back and the frankly scary strength of her arms, but his focus is on Paz who draws a long and deep breath like a man about to tell a story worth hearing.

“He hasn’t told you about that, has he?” Paz says, reaching out and placing an oil-covered and heavy hand on Corin’s shoulder. “Allow me.”

“Paz, I will shoot you in the face!” Din shouts.

“Is that any way to talk to your brother?” Raga tuts and shoves his helmet down, visor first, to smack against the floor.

“I was fifteen when I got my first jetpack and my father started training me.” Paz sounds nostalgic, before giving a faint shake of his helmet and sighing as he gestures towards Din. “Back then, Din was a little twig who had yet to take the Creed and he was ‘not’ happy about that.”

Din tries to buck Raga off but can only bite back a pained, but mostly angry, sound when she digs her knee in deeper and wrings one of his arms.

“So, one night,” Paz continues, sliding his arm around Corin’s shoulders and maneuvering him over to sit next to him so they both can look at Din, “the little womp rat decided he was going to grab my jetpack and show everyone how he was a natural talent at flying. That he was as good as the older children.”

Corin struggles against a smile. “Is that so?”

Even Raga cackles as she has to grab Din’s other arm as well to keep him pinned down when he struggles even harder to free himself.

“Indeed.” Paz says. “The brat wormed his way into my room, grabbed my jetpack, went into the hallway and put it on. That pack was designed for me, not his baby-ass, which meant that when he activated it at full throttle, it went as well as you can probably imagine.”

Corin is losing the fight against not laughing.

“I woke up to his scream growing fainter as he zoomed down the hallway.” Paz says. “I ran out and saw jetfire and his tiny feet as they blew around a corner and I ‘knew’ what had just happened. I chased after him. If he had been keeping a steady course, I would never have been able to catch up, but lucky for both of us; Din managed to bump into every door, both walls and occasionally the ceiling as he raced down the hallway. Screaming his head off. Eventually I caught up with him in one of the training rooms that had been left open and he decided to end his journey by flying smack up into the corner of the room and get stuck in one of the climbing ropes up there.”

“By now the grown ups are gearing up and preparing for battle because they think we’re under attack.” Raga supplies with glee.

Din gives up fighting and just drops his helmet, visor first yet again, to the floor with a thump.

“Din was bawling, the adults were freaking out, so it was up to me to save the day.” Paz’ voice is brimming with obnoxious delight. “I climbed up there, managed to untangle the little idiot and got him ‘and’ my jetpack down. Luckily his thick head hadn’t suffered too much during his rodeo, but he had busted up his arm pretty good. He was wailing so loud it took about two minutes before Davarax found us and he wasn’t happy.” A fond laughter. “He had to explain to the rest of the Tribe it had only been an illegal jetpack joyride, not an actual invasion by outsiders, while I had to bring the troublemaker to the bone-setter and wipe snot and tears off that face of his.”

Din is thumping his helmet regularly against the floor before he suddenly lifts his t-visor to glare at Paz. “I hate you.”

Paz stares at Din for a heartbeat and a half, then turns his t-visor to Corin. “Has he told you about his first dancing lesson?”

“PAZ!” Din’s bellow echoes through the entire building.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #Poor Din #Curious Corin #the one-shots start coming and they don't stop coming

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kittymaine · 3 years

Text

Prompt: You arrive at the dungeon and discover that the monsters are on strike.

A fighter, a cleric, and a rogue step out of a stand of trees to a small clearing in front of a dark cave, a babbling brook tumbling out of the cave opening and down the gentle incline back into the woods. They're stealthy, or trying to be, though the cleric's chainmail armor clangs and clicks with every ungainly stomp of his little dwarf feet.

They need not have bothered. The goblins who were meant to be guarding the cave are instead standing outside holding picket signs and chanting.

"Two! Four! Six! Eight! Who do they appreciate? Not us!" they shout as they stomp their feet up and down on the pebbled ground.

The rogue steps forward hesitantly, her short bow half raised. "Uh, hello?"

"Ten! Twelve! Fourteen! Chief Klarg has shitty cheeks!"

The fighter snorts and the rogue drops her bow the rest of the way. "Uh, hello!" she shouts. "Guys?"

The goblins stumble to a stop and turn to stare at their small group. A halfling rogue woman, a human fighter man, and a bearded dwarf cleric.

"What do you want?" one of the goblins sneers, stepping out of line to approach the rogue woman. "This dungeon is closed. Go somewhere else."

"Did you guys kidnap a guy in armor and a dwarf? We found two dead horses on the road a ways back and this path led us here," the fighter asked, struggling to keep a smile down. Their picket signs were really cute and had little drawings of a bugbear with a poopy butt all over them.

"Yeah! We did! What of it?" the goblin said with a show of dirty crooked teeth.

"What of it?" The cleric roared, brandishing his war hammer. "We're going to bash your little noggins in, that's what of it!"

The fighter put up a stalling hand. "Hold on, no one's bopping anyone yet. We just want to find our friends. Are they here?"

"Why should we tell you?" the lead goblin sneered again, but another smaller goblin stepped forward to add, "We grabbed 'em. But, that was like a week ago. The dwarf got picked up by some weird guy days ago and we let the human go this morning when we went on strike."

"Klarg said we were spending too much time eating rats!" another goblin shouted from the picket line, to a chorus of groans and boos. "Who is he to tell us what we can eat and how often? He sure doesn't feed us! Screw Klarg!" the tiny goblin continued to a racket of enthusiastic agreement.

"Oh, uh. Yeah, for sure, screw Klarg. He sounds like a real jerk," the human fighter said.

"Yeah, what a poop butt," the rogue snickered behind her hand.

The goblins cheered and rabbled and shook their signs in agreement.

"Did you see which way the human guy went?" the fighter asked.

"Yeah, he went down this path and back toward Phandalin. It's just a half day's ride away if you keep on this road. Can't miss it," the first goblin said.

"Hey, man, thanks. Good luck with your strike," the fighter said, waving and gesturing for his companions to follow him as they headed back the way they came.

"No problem! Okay, guys! Back to the picket line! Let's get loud! Whoo!"

The three companions made their way back through the woods to the sound of little goblin voices raised in unity against their poopy butt chief. And so our heroes' journey had begun.

#dungeons and dragons #dnd #lost mine of phandelver #goblins #strike #unionize #writing prompt #r/writing prompts #original fiction #kittywrites

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spc4eva · 3 years

Text

Star-Burned: Chapter One

Ok, honestly, I couldn’t stop myself.

So this is my first reader insert. I am hella nervous. There will be no Y/N included, but pet names (and nicknames) given out by Paz that will act as Y/N. Additionally, feel free to imagine yourself in the shoes of the character, but I am going to include a few features that she has - to include very, VERY Merida curly red hair. Honestly, I'm gonna treat her more like an OC, but since it's a reader insert - imagine yourselves how you want QUEEN.

There's gonna be smut. But plot. I promise.

Summary: A Mandalorian crash lands on your planet with severe injuries. You're a moisture farmer who's handy. It's been a long time since you've had company other than your massiff, Jumbles. You take the Mandalorian in because you're a bleeding heart, not realizing what danger you've put yourself in. But the Mandalorian doesn't forget and he's more than willing to repay his debt and protect you.

Word Count: 5,398

Rating: M (18+) explicit sex scenes

| Chapter Two |

Cross Posted on AO3

Someone had crash landed.

Which, for this quiet hovel a planet, was the most action you'd seen in foreverrrr. Maybe ever to be honest. You were used to dealing with Jawas, the occasional drifter, and patching up your moisture farm as best as possible. Was honest work, pretty lonely since your folks had passed away, but it was all you had. Not entirely of course, there was the local wiley massiff that you'd feed scraps and talk to, as if it were a kindred soul, eying you with those beady little eyes before salivating over its disconcertingly large maw. Yeah, you should have been worried that it might've been sizing you up in case you didn't come out with a meal for it, but at least you did have a blaster. Would've been a sad day to have to put Jumbles down - yes, that's what you had named it. For no particular reason other than it had spontaneously fallen out of your mouth and the creature seemed to listen to it.

So when Jumbles trotted up with its spines quivering, baying and leaping around, you half expected it was going to lead you to another rotting womp rat corpse. What you were not expecting was to see smoke peeling from between the canyon walls, dark and sulfuric. Your years patching the farm up, making repairs to any scraps you had laying around - to include droids at times - had made you rather handy. You had to be when the nearest town was a two day ride on your speederbike. Self sufficiency was necessary, because it cost credits to get fuel and to ride out that far. Additionally, you had to plan for it... months ahead.

Jumbles sprinted ahead, wagging a tailless rump before glancing back at you with bounce in his paws. Follow. Come quick.

Now that you had an idea of what it was, your strides lengthened until you were chasing after the massiff. Between the terracotta walls and around a bend, until you were face to face with a crashed starship that had smoke rolling off the main engines. You winced at the carnage, a good portion of the hull smashed inward and splattered open, storage containers and supplies dashing the sand like organs splayed from a chest wound.

Jumbles woofed, approaching the wreckage.

"Not a good idea, boy," you started to say. Even if it was a dangerous wild creature, you still worried about it and this mess was still smoking. Who knew if it was about to explode, there could be fuel leaks in tandem with hanging wires and-

Jumbles went inside the ship.

"Ah!" Your legs churned after it. Even if you had to drag the massiff out of the carnage, you would. Jawas would find it soon enough and have their way with the supplies. Could be a good amount of things to take, but even if you were friends with Jawas, you didn't really like picking the bones of others.

Wires snapped and hissed like tiny snakes around your ear, threatening to singe your barely restricted hair as you ducked. The ship was in an abysmal condition, but the upper echelons of the craft were still intact... Warped, but intact. Your mechanic eyes began discerning the issues, locating the biggest issues first, which was-

Jumbles barked, your neck snapping fast enough that you thought you pulled a muscle. Palming your neck, you trailed forward and saw what... no, who the canine was standing over. Maybe he thought it was a droid. Hell, you thought it was a droid for a moment until you bent down to get a better look and saw that it was breathing. Jumbles yipped again and you blinked, realizing that the massive armored creature was a living person and looked hurt.

"Hey," you started, poking into the man's shoulder where the blue steel didn't meet. "Hey, you need to get up. This ship might go-" Maker, he felt like metal underneath all those layers. Could be a droid then and you were just wasting your time. "C'mon get up!" But you couldn't leave someone here to die on their ship as it leaked fuel and ignited itself. You rarely saw people as it was and what if the last person you ever saw with this guy and you let him become a toasted human inside his armor?

Hooking your fingers into the pauldrons of the armor, you made a valiant attempt at trying to drag the figure out of the ship. He didn't budge. Face down, unconscious, and weighing an absolute ton. Your heart was pumping by now and panic made your hands shake as you desperately glanced around for a solution. Just... anything, a repulsor lift, a speeder... a speeder? Jolting to your feet, you spotted the storage area, having been thrown haphazardly around like a pinball during the crash landing, but still intact.

Now, the issue would be getting this man onto the speeder. You couldn't even drag him, how in the Maker's name were you going to hoist him over? You brought the speeder over and chewed your lip at your plight, hopelessly glancing from bike to fallen warrior.

"Hey," you tried again, hoping that maybe you'd get an answer this time. "Hey, c'mon are you in there?" You knocked on the helmet as if it were a door, your knuckles screaming in immediate protest. That was the least of your worries, because a hand flew out, grabbed your ankle, and ripped you off your feet. Back smacking on the steel floor, you groaned as the metal giant finally stirred. Despite the brazen display of insane speed, the figure was barely able to move more than a few centimeters... but he was alive, so he had that going for him. "Maker-" Scrambling back to your feet, you gave him another look over. "If you can hear me, I'm going to try and get you on your feet. I need your help though, can't pick you up myself."

You positioned yourself around him, finding his arm and slinging it around your shoulders before popping a squat. Now, you weren't very big or very strong. Just strong enough to lift things when you needed to, but you had lifts to do the heavier jobs back on the farm. Your knees quaked as you tested the pressure before sucking in a greedy breath. "Alright, one, two, three-" Exploding upward - or making an attempt to explode upward - you made it about a foot and a half before your calves died on you and your back buckled forward. "AH!" It didn't feel good, the absolute loss of control over your body as you expected to fly face first into the side of the speeder. Unfortunately for you, you didn't have a helmet protecting your face.

But it never came and you chanced opening an eye to look. The man was trying to stand, alleviating a brief amount of pressure as you widen your eyes. Swallowing the huge lump in your throat, you quickly thrust him forward and unceremoniously onto the bike. He grunted, but didn't manage any words before lolling, stomach first, onto the seat.

There would be no comfortable way to ride this bike, you saw that now as you tried to shove him over the tail a little better, squeezing yourself tightly into the thrusters, almost off the seat entirely as you kicked it into gear and backed out through the massive tear in the hull. Jumbles ran along dopily as you very carefully - at almost a gruelling pace - brought the bike through the ravine and up the ride toward your moisture farm. Now came the second issue.

Getting him inside.

"We have to walk again," you warned him, the light of day revealing the color of the man's armor - a deep ocean (or from pictures you’d seen of oceans) blue accent with marigold yellow. Didn't quite strike you when you were panicking, but you saw it now as the haze of strife cleared. A Mandalorian. You had pulled a kriffing Mandalorian from the wreckage of his ship. Fuck. That ship definitely had carbon scarring on it - indicative of a dogfight.

Too fucking late now.

"6PO can you get the lift?" You shouted for the protocol droid, an old rusted out piece of crap that you'd reprogrammed to help around the house. There was too much for you to do with just your own hands. The droid could manage the more mundane tasks, but still made a piss pour cup of caf.

The droid stuttered out - having never learned to talk properly - gave you a blank look, and then started waddling toward the work shed where the lift would be.

"Alright, mando, can you hear me?" you bent over, turning his helmet so that the visor was sort of looking up toward you. "Your ship crashed. Where are you hurt? I can't see that much with all that armor on." Part of you was asking this so you could tend his wounds and then send him packing. "6PO?" you raised your voice irritably, Maker that droid was always slow right when you needed it to be fast.

"W-where?" Finally he spoke, his strangled voice translated through the modulator in his helmet, breathy and in pain.

You told him the planet, pretty backwater and without much activity. There was a spaceport on the other side of the planet, but nowhere near where he was now. Finally, 6PO came over with the lift, cocking its head as you sighed. "About bloody time," you grumble, dragging the lift up and devoting your attention to your charge once again. "Gotta get up again."

This time the Mandalorian was more receptive, putting weight on his legs as you eased him onto the lift, which sagged until his weight. By the way he was cradling his abdomen you were guessing there was some sort of trauma there, but it was hard to tell. You weren't a medic, you weren't even pretending to be as you brought him into your home and slipped him onto your bed since it was the biggest one in the house. But what you did have was bacta, because if something happened to you where you crushed an arm or broke a bone, you needed to be able to fix it. Wasn't often that you had to use the concentrated shots, but it was always better to keep one on hand (even if it cost a fuckton of credits for it). Better to spend the money than die with it in your pocket.

Should you use it on the Mandalorian? That was the question, wincing as he drew rattled breaths in the bed, holding the shot in your palm as you really considered how many credits you had spent on this last year.

"I need to take a look. Can I remove your armor?" Very carefully you approached like a womp rat before a nexu, almost afraid that one of the very many weapons on his belt might soon be tilted toward you. Of course you knew the stories about Mandalorians and having a behemoth one in your modest home didn't make you feel much better. But he was still a person.

"Not... not the helmet," he grunted eventually.

Everything but the helmet. Alright, that could work. You didn't know how armor worked, so removing the armor was a shitshow of fumbling, your fingers catching buckles, pinching flesh, and other times was fastened so tightly that you had to put some weight into getting the kriffing things off. Took the better part of an hour, but you managed to remove the armor - aside from the helmet - and leave the Mandalorian in just his flight suit and boots. Now this next part felt a bit intrusive, but you convinced yourself that this was in for the better health of the mando.

Unbuttoning the top of the flight suit, you started to peel it down, a rush of heat playing across your cheeks as you revealed the muscular and well hewn figure of the ailing man beneath the beskar. You looked a little too long, but doubted the fellow was even conscious enough to catch your ogling. Biting your lips, you pushed the undershirt up and took your medical scanner to the constellation of bruising against his ribcage. Oh, it didn't look good and the scanner came back with a result that made your legs weak, but not in a good way.

"You've got three broken ribs, lacerations to your spleen and kidneys--" ok you didn't know medical stuff, but the device was blinking indicating that he needed treatment immediately or face going sepsis. Your brain nearly exploded with panic as you tripped over your own feet and sprinted for the bacta infusion, which jumped between your nervous, sweaty hands. "Th-this isn't g-gonna feel good," you stammered, uncapping the three pronged syringe. Maker you hated looking at it, the thing looked like a torture device.

Or go sepsis---

You shanked him with the infusion, pushing the plunger down, expecting him to recoil in pain. Actually, he didn't, which made your head turn slowly and a cascade of fiery curls follow as you just stared, in more distress than the severely wounded mando. "I-I will leave you to rest."

---

The infusion had been enough to stave off sepsis and repair the Mandalorian's organs, but he was still recovering from the broken bones. From your readings, the bacta had set them back into place, but he required more time to naturally heal the rest. What that meant was that you had suddenly become his caretaker, which consisted of feeding and helping him over to the fresher because he couldn't take his full weight on his injured side. For a Mandalorian, you didn't think he was that mean or callous. If anything, he was pretty gracious that you'd put the effort into struggling to get him back to your ranch.

But work didn't stop. In fact, you still had to run the farm while periodically checking in on the Mandalorian. Despite it, you tried not to seem bone weary when he asked for him. Wasn't his fault. If anything, it was your fault for helping him in the first place. He did answer a few questions, rumbling in a deep voice that sounded like thunder hinting at lightning on the horizon.

"What's your name?" "You can call me Paz."

"Why did you crash land?" "I was shot down."

"Why though?" "Made some Imps upset."

"So you can't take your helmet off?" "Not in front of anything living."

"Oh so, it's fine if they're dead." "I try not to remove it unless I'm alone."

"Why is it blue?" "Why is what blue?"

"Your armor? Why choose blue?" "It's my favorite color."

“Mine’s gold. Kind of like the yellow there on your armor.” “Your what?” “My favorite color.”

"You think those Imps are going to come looking for you?" "My ship crash landed, so I doubt it."

That ship, you had actually gone back to one afternoon to cordoned off from the Jawas. You knew them and decided that you liked the Mandalorian enough you weren't going to let his belongings get looted. Since it was close to your farm, laying claim to it - by Jawa code - was not difficult. You left them signs in their tongue, warding them off, before finding yourself taken aback that the thing hadn't exploded while you were gone. It needed a lot of work and probably a proper spaceport where it could be hoisted up and repaired from underneath.

Your stupid bleeding heart meant that you went and fixed a few wires in your spare time, soldering them off, and cleaning up the worst of the wreckage. The engines would take more time, but they weren't too dissimilar from what you'd worked on in other vehicles, including your speeder and tractor. Peeling open a few holobooks, you would hum yourself to sleep at night in your childhood bedroom, blinking away sleep as you contemplated how else you might help this... Paz. Being generous was not forlorn to you. You'd helped drifters passing through, offered to lodge them up for the night, fill their bellies before sending them off... This planet wasn't that bad aside from the arid landscape and mischievous Jawas.

Not like you had to worry about raiders or skugs. So your tenderheartedness hadn't come to bite you in the ass yet and aside from wanting a replacement to the bacta shot, you weren't expecting payment. It was called being a good human being and you pride yourself on the fact that you'd done something so nice. Plus, the added bonus was you didn't only have Jumbles to talk to. Now there was a living, breathing person who could hold conversation with you. Course, wasn't really to his will, but you tried not to pester him too much even though you were incredibly curious about what he did. Plus he seemed to get bored being pent up in that room.

"Tranyc," he'd taken to calling you that in some mysterious language you didn't know, as you hummed into the bedroom after knocking, carrying fresh caf and breakfast. Weeks had passed and he was almost well enough. "I think I might be able to walk on my own. Do you mind-"

Mind keeping an eye out for him? You nod, setting the tray down on the nightstand before preparing yourself. Now, you were a master of helping the blue Mandalorian on his feet, keenly aware of where you fit and could support him from without being crumpled like tin foil. He threw his legs over the bed, testing his feet on the floor as you stood guard, poised like a goalie ready to catch the ball in front of a net before the big shot was made. Admittedly, you were a little too silly for your own good, but being on your own for so long had done that. You would talk to yourself, make funny gestures, and do ridiculous things just to chase away the loneliness. Those mannerisms hadn’t really faded in light of your new acquaintance.

Paz pushed off the bed and stood there, towering over you at full height. You relaxed, glad to see that he was able to hold his own, but also sad about that. A pit welled in your belly, the realization that these few weeks had brought you a lot of happiness in having the company of another. And... you kind of liked him. Not in a companionable sort of way. No, you thought he was attractive --- from his voice, to his sturdy body, to the calm manner he'd talk to you. Despite all the stories you'd heard about Mandalorians, he was very warm and patient. Even if there was no face to place with all of that, attraction was more than just appearances, wasn't it? Then again, you'd been shocked by your sudden arousal on the first day of his arrival after just brushing his muscular chest.

Living alone didn't help your touch-starved addled brain.

And then he took a step forward and your spine jolted, darting forward as he winced for his side and wobbled. "Ah-hee!" a strange noise came out of your mouth as you tried to stop the tower of a man from tumbling and honestly, he tried too. But the result was still a mess of limbs, and you tried to take the brunt of the fall, cushioning him so that he didn't hurt his ribs again. Maker, that was your first mistake, thinking that you could take the weight of his body.

All air was crushed from your lungs, vision spinning as you made impact with the carpet. And it wasn't coming afterward, your throat bobbing but the pressure on your ribcage still too much that you were suffocating and unable to see at the same time. "Maker!" it wasn't your voice, but at the sound of it, the air whooshed back into your lungs and you sputtered hoarsely as someone sat you up. Not someone. There was only one other person on this farm. "Tranyc? Hey, can you hear me?"

"Y-yup!" you squeaked, the frayed edges of your vision swimming hazily back into focus as you saw that Paz was sitting on the floor with you, propping your semi-noodley form up. "A-are you ok?"

He sighed, the noise crackling out of his helmet as you trembled, sensation returning to your muscles. "I nearly crushed you. What were you thinking?"

"T-trying t-to he-help," you stammer, taking big gulps of air in between each word. Now you could feel a bit better, rolling your neck as you took account of what had happened. You had jumped to his side before he fell, taking the brunt of the fall directly on top of you. Not very smart at all. Then, he'd turned, picked you up and you were --- you were on his lap. "Wha--" Lancing like wildfire across a dry field of brush, blush erupted up your neck and face. "I-I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? I fell on you," Paz pointed out, his helmet tilting to the side as your ears began buzzing. "Are you certain you're ok? I nearly flattened you."

"C-couldn't b-b-be be-better," your tongue was betraying you, thick and clumsy as you pushed against his chest -- oh Maker, the chest without the armor and only the flight suit. You could feel the grooves of his strong pectoral muscles beneath, the color on your face heightening to as bright a red as your hair. "I should... I should leave you to eat. Breakfast is on the ta-table."

You got to your feet, the weak wobbly limbs shaking, but not because you had been used as a pillowy landing for the Mandalorian. No, a heat radiated around your tummy and laddled lower into the abyss between your legs. A very, infrequently ventured area that had been visited once or twice by drifters, but never for much longer than an evening. Anyways, the Mandalorian wouldn't be interested in anything like that. You were just being hormonal and touch-starved. A little alone time could help you with that, right?

Pushing back your mop of hair, you trotted into the kitchen, glanced at the time and then rolled over onto the couch from behind. You flopped onto the cushions, hair flying everywhere again before you stared blankly at the ceiling, wishing you weren't so terribly horny right now after just grazing a man's chest. How pitiful was that? You were an adult, had been for a good amount of years, and all it took was a deep voice and strong body to make you lose all sense of yourself?

A soft whimper parted your mouth, the ache so desperate and painful that you gripped the fabric of your coveralls over your crotch and pressed into the sensation. Well, he couldn't walk anyways and you were the only one who lived in the house, so there was no risk in just relaxing here, was there? Despite it, you grabbed the nearby blanket and kicked off your overalls, returning a hand to the ailing point between your thighs.

Cheeks flushed, neck cocked against the arm rest, you spun circles on the fabric, your pads picking up the wetness through the material. Maker, you were absolutely dripping, soaking through your panties, and making your fingers tacky. Hooking underneath the textile, you run your fingers along the warmth, licking your lips and closing your eyes -- the first thing coming to mind being Paz. The mystery of the man beneath, the muscular pillars of his body, the golden blonde curls against his broad chest.

Your fingers move up to the bundle of nerves so desperate for attention, nearly screaming at you as you finally lavish attention. His voice, the deep rumble and attentiveness as you talk from where you sit in that chair beside the bed -- your bed. He was sleeping in your bed. Would it smell like him after? Would you ever wash the damn blankets after he left? Probably not. Edging yourself closer, you imagined his thick fingers plunging into your heat, reaching up into your molten core and--

"Tracyn?"

You nearly fell off the couch, clutching onto your sex for dear life as you froze. Your whole body vibrated, muscles stiffening as you fought off the white hot surge of an orgasm. How the fuck had he gotten out of the room?

Tufts of your long hair were sticking out from the couch. No matter how far you slumped down, tried to hide beneath the edge of the blanket, your fucking hair was a blinding curly beacon and fluffing out as an admission of betrayal.

You couldn't hold your breath any longer, the guttural whine hitching as the orgasm pittered into a woefully unsatisfying leap -- like a bird that had flung itself over a cliff with a broken wing, somewhat flying before it plummeted to the earth below. He came around the couch, still clutching his side, and paused. Now, the blanket was in the way, but your coveralls were crumpled on the floor and your face was deliciously flushed.

Oh, stars you looked awful. You absolutely knew how dirty you felt by assuming that he'd not walk out and find you, hand slicked with your own wetness and too embarrassed to move.

"What are you- Did I hurt you?" he asked, reaching down to snare the blanket away.

"N-no!" you gripped it with your free hand, but half of it was pulled away to reveal the outside of your bare leg, and the arm that was still hiding down there.

"Were you...?" his helmet tilted as you both just remained where you were for a beat. Heart racing like fathiers on a track in Canto Bight, your lower lip trembled in shame, waiting for him to throw the blanket back over and return to the room. He was walking. He could just leave and let you wallow in your own miserable chagrin -- drown in it at this point... "Did you finish?"

"W-what?" you squeaked, face managing to deepen another shade of crimson.

"Did you finish, mesh'la?" he repeated, sitting down on the couch by your feet, a tanned palm tracing the top of the foot. His skin was calloused, rough, and sandpapery. The foreign sensation made you shudder in his grasp, but it wasn't unpleasant. In fact, you liked the way his hand slowly coasted your calf in a soothing manner. "All alone on this big farm. Not another soul aside from Jumbles."

True, not another soul. You gave a quivering nod in agreement as his hand reached to graze the back of your knee. Still so gentle, with no insistency or malice.

"Doing everything all on your own. The farm, helping me, taking care of yourself," his hand moved higher, framing the outside of your lower thigh, which caused you to jump. "You haven't once asked me for anything. No repayment or deal despite using that bacta... Couldn't have been cheap. This is just a moisture farm, you're not raking in credits..." He paused, grazing your upper thigh now, daring to push the blanket over a bit more. "For weeks now... Helping me... Did you finish?"

You had, but it hadn't been any good. Your stupid head bobs anyways, sending a few curls tumbling into your face.

"Maybe-" he was drawing his hand back, the warmth of his scratchy fingers receding and you actually whined because of it, his helmet tilting back up to look at you. "Maybe," he was stronger now. "I can repay you a little for all you've done."

Maker, not a word came out of your mouth, you were nearly gnawing on the blanket from how nervous you were, but also from how much your core began aching again.

"Do you want me to, mesh'la? I won't touch you unless you want it. I don't want to overstay my welcome, I just thought that-" he trailed off and you wondered what he had thought. Had you been so obvious about liking him? You didn't think so, you thought you had been your usually, dorky but polite self.

"I want you to," you insisted, releasing the blanket so that the rest could slip off and pool on the floor. You still had your shirt on, but you were nude from the hips down, fronds of hair curling over your mound that matched the drapes. This felt oddly... exposing, even if it was only the lower half. And the fact you couldn't read him didn't help, just a blank mask of a face that was drinking you in and you had no idea if he liked or disliked what he saw. What if you were not at all what he had been hoping for? What if he didn't like what he saw?

He groaned, his palm returning to your leg, sliding up and burning a blistering wake of fire before he curved into your hip and jerked you toward him. "Oh, mesh'la," he moaned. "A desert gemstone hidden in these canyons. How did I get so lucky? Of all the planets and places-" he touched you down there, the very sensation of hands not your own making you jolt and your neck tense. Fuck --- it really had been a long time. "Wh-when the last time... have you ever... ?"

"A fe-ew ye-ears now," you admitted as his fingers scissor up between your folds. "Be-been on m-my ow-own for si-six. N-not ma-any t-t-travelers."

"So wet," he muttered, bringing the slick up and pinning two fingers on your aching bud. Back stiffening, you bucket at the sensation, grounded by his other palm pressing into the hollow of your hip. You were halfway tugged onto his lap as he watched on with fascination, the curve of your left leg hooked against his hip. "What were you thinking of? Before I found you?"

You blush deeper, if that were at all possible, turning your face away from him as he continued to draw lazy circles on your clit. "Y-you."

His groans again, a growing hardness against your leg -- a hardness for you. It's hard to decide what is more startling -- the fact that Paz is here getting you off or that he's aroused by the fact that you'd been playing with yourself while envisioning him. "I'll take care of you. You deserve it mesh'la. After everything you've done for me. I'll make you feel good," he promised, increasing his pace, dipping in his ring and pinkie finger while he continued to oscillate against your bundle of nerves. His fingers stretched you, just as thick and delicious as you'd imagined -- no, it was better than you imagined because it was real. Pumping into you gently, reaching so much deeper than your own small fingers can. "Tight. Maker, you're so tight."

Squirming on the couch, you grabbed onto the cushioned as he pleasured you, coaxing you toward the end of days, making you see stars beneath your closed eyelids. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, a warbled cry strangled completely as your legs locked out and walls tightened to vice grip his fingers.

"Cum on me, mesh'la. Let it all out, come on," he encouraged, his fingers quickening over your clit, your soul absolutely rending as you as ecstasy drowns your senses, your muscles clench, and the scenery of the house falls away. You're floating, physical body panning away from you as you bliss out and disconnect from your breathing and deflating heart rate. You'd never had an orgasm this heart stopping, so utterly piercing that you couldn't even tell where you were anymore.

Finally, you blinked out of your stupor, expecting to be left laying cock legged and messy, but instead you're in bed. Your actual bed, not the twin one that you had been sleeping in the past few weeks. Rolling your head to the side, you didn't see him, but you heard him in the adjoining fresher. You had underwear back on and a pair of pajama bottoms.

What the heck was happening? Did it matter? You just hoped it wasn't ending anytime soon.

#paz vizla x you #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #paz vizsla x fem!reader #paz vizsla smut #smut with plot #smut with feelings #star-burned

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remmushound · 3 years

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Bay/rise 48!! @errorfreak88 @brightlotusmoon @digitl-art-monstr @dakotafinely @selfindulgenz @yarchurr @sprinklestheditty @sententiously-sarcastic

Something was happening. Shredder pulled away from the door with a loud growl but not of anger. It almost sounded as if he was in pain. His hands went up to clutch at his head, his claws curling under his chin and cupping his head in an almost careful cradle. When that didn't help to sooth him, he started to thrash his head with an angry roar, spitting foam and what looked almost like tar as he slammed his full weight against the containment.

The container hardly moved, but Shredder was insistent. He kept rocking and slamming and spinning in circles like he was rabid.

“Uh dudes— is he okay?” Mikey backed away from the container and ran to hide behind Raph, his eyes wide as he watched the struggling yokai.

“What on earth…” Leo narrowed his eyes, his mouth hanging open like a startled frog.

“Not on this earth.” Donnie commented; he had been waiting for so long to say that.

“Donnie!” Leonardo ran to his brother's side, grabbing Donatello and tossing him back to where Krang’s destroyed body suit rested. “Let him out!”

“Are you crazy?” Donnie and Raph cried as one, then immediately glared at each other for copying.

“A little.” Leonardo answered.

Donatello didn't question Leonardo’s order, immediately working to try and free the panicking creature from his trap.

“What are you doing—?! Don’t let him go!” Leo tried to reason.

“Please!” Leonardo ran over to address Leo, taking the massive hands in his. “Trust me!”

Leo stared back at him. For a moment, neither of them moved. Then Leo turned back to his brothers with the slightest nod.

“Let him try.”

“What— but Leo!” Donnie tried to argue. “We just caught him; we can’t let him out!”

“It’s his brother in there, Donnie! He gets to call it.”

The doors hissed open. Shredder stumbled out the doors the minute they were wide enough for him to fit through, and though the bigger brothers immediately braced themselves for what they saw as an inevitable attack, Shredder stopped the minute he got into open ground and could collapse in on himself, the black-as-ink substance leaking from every part of him and spilling out into the technodrome.

Mikey looked down and found it pooling around his feet, immediately pulling away and trying to kick himself free, though it stuck with him stubbornly. “EW! I stepped in Shredder goo!”

Shredder clawed at his eyes and mouth, his own claws leaving deep gashes in the armor that only served to spill more of him out of it.

“What is this stuff?” Michelangelo whimpered as he climbed on top of Draxum to get away from the spill.

“It’s the Oni magic…” Draxum said. He looked back up at Shredder. “He’s dying.”

“What’s gonna happen?” Donatello asked.

“I don’t know…”

With a final, piercing cry of a creature's final breath, Shredder screamed to the sky and then collapsed. The minute he crashed, his armor split and fell apart, leaving Raphael in the middle of the pile. A second of stunned silence passed before the armor started to drift up, one piece at a time, and fate away into nothing. No— it took Leonardo a second to realize— not nothing. It turned into something new.

From each armor was birthed a cloud of pink petals carried on a wind no one else could feel. Raphael flipped over to witness the event as it unfolded, and for a second he was almost certain the petals shifted into a human figure staring down at him. The phantom was gone the next second, drifting away in the breeze and following the rest of the petals through an air duct and out to God-knows-where.

“Wow.” Mikey looked down at his now-clean foot, then back up to where the pedals disappeared. For a second, he had been sure he felt the tickle of someone there— someone free from a massive weight that had bore down on them. He was certain he must have felt it, and then he was certain he had simply made a mistake because he didn't feel it again. “Well, that was unexpected.”

“The hell happened?” Raph growled.

“I… guess we won?” Donnie offered with a shrug.

“He left.” Michelangelo said softly.

“RAPH!” Leonardo was the first to run to Raphael, wrapping the snappers head in his and hugging the massive weight against his plastron. Raphael gave a startled yelp, but then fell to laughter at Leonardo’s slick and almost slimy touch. He grunted twice more when he felt the soft and leathery Donatello wrap his arms around Raphael’s carapace, careful of the bandages that were quickly coming unwrapped, and as he felt the rough and thick skin of Michelangelo as the box turtle hugged his side. Then the soft and squishy touch of April came as she wiggled her way under Leonardo to hug Raphael’s belly, and lastly the sharp prickle of Yoshi’s bristly fur as the rat took his sons hand and hugged it tightly.

It took Raphael a second to react, but when he did it was to stand up, carrying every member of his family either in his arms or on his shell, and hug them with all the force of a friendly grizzly bear. He nuzzled each of them in turn and when he got to Yoshi his tears were wiped, but they proved to be flowing too heavy and thick for Yoshi to stop the flow completely.

“There there… it is alright…” Yoshi reached up to plant a gentle kiss on Raphael’s cheek, which the rest of his family hurried to follow. “You are safe…”

“I… I…” Raphael shook his head as he tried to make the words come out, but all that happened was more tears and a weak whimper as he buried his face once more in the shelter of his brother’s chest.

“It’s alright, big guy!” Leonardo tried to comfort, “Seriously, if you keep crying anymore, we’re gonna drown!”

Donatello gave a sigh and pulled a tiny cocktail umbrella from his tool belt, holding it above his head to block himself from Raphael’s tears. Michelangelo kept nuzzling his beak and cheek into Raphael’s hardened biceps, while April just held on tight for dear life refusing to let go.

Draxum cleared his throat from behind them, and when they turned, they were faced with Draxum holding two sets of weapons. Two Tonfa and a kusari-fundo. Michelangelo gasped and ran to Draxum, taking the weapons from him with a happy squeal.

“Our weapons!” Michelangelo hugged Draxum tightly, burying his face in the boneplates of Draxum’s chest. “Thank you Draxum...”

He hugged Draxum a moment more before running off and returning to his brothers, giving Raphael his Tonfa back and earning another hug.

“Master Draxum?” Cassandra asked softly, finally removing her hood and mask.

“Yes, Cassandra.”

“I don’t understand...” she said softly, “are we friends with the turtles now...?”

Draxum looked back at her most curiously. “Do you want to be?”

Cassandra looked to the reunited clan. They were hugging each other and kissing and they seemed so happy to be back together! Cassandra thought it over for a short moment in her mind.

“Yeah... I think I do.”

“H… how long was I out?” Raphael asked. It couldn’t have been for too long— his brothers looked unchanged— and they were still in the technodrome…

“Just a few hours! No biggie!” Leonardo laughed, putting his hands on his hips after giving Raphael a final pat on the head.

“A f… few hours?” Raphael whimpered, “It felt a lot longer than that… it felt like…” Raphael looked down at his hands. They were shaking and though he put conscious effort into trying to stop them, they only started shaking worse.

“Hey, hey…” Leonardo put a hand on Raphael’s shoulder and squeezed him to bring him back to reality before falling into another tight hug. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters…”

“B… but… but how… who… how did you…?”

“It was Leo’s plan.” Donatello said, “You know Leo’s always been good at that kinda thing.”

“Leo… led you guys?”

“I wouldn’t really say led.” Leonardo motioned vaguely, “More like… uh… well, yeah, lef I guess is… the word.”

“Oh…” Raphael frowned and hung his head.

“Hey…” April gave Raphael a pat on the back, “Let’s get you back to the lair, big guy. Let the doc’s check you up.”

“Right…” Raphael got to his feet and almost immediately Donnie descended upon him, flicking down his goggles to read Raphael’s vitals.

“How strange. From what I could see, the armor locked into you with Shredder— I was expecting some fractures, gashes, cuts, something, but… now you don’t seem hurt at all. Actually, you look almost better than you did when you went in!”

“Yeah! How come he’s not all withered and old like Draxum was?” Michelangelo pouted.

“He’s a mutant, Michelangelo. And he has hamato blood. I have neither of those things.” Draxum answered. “It was foolish of me to think I could wear the armor in the first place…”

Leonardo didn't immediately follow his brothers, and neither did Leo. Both spent the longest time just watching their families walk away.

The bay brothers were in the back, straying a little behind the hyper, younger brothers to watch curiously as they went by before following.

“You sooooo have to teach us how to do that glowy thing when we get home!” Michelangelo cheeped from beside Raphael.

“Er. Glowy thing?”

“You know— how you broke through Draxum’s vines! And your chest was all glowy...?”

Raphael held a hand to his chest with a soft whine. “I don’t remember any of that...”

“You sure you don’t wanna scounge for some tech-whatever?” Raph asked Donnie, “I mean—ain’t like Krang’s gonna need it anymore."

“Quite frankly, Raphael, I would be happy if I never see this place ever again.” Donnie answered.

“Speak for yourself…” Donatello gave an evil grin as he rested his head on his bundle of stolen tech, wrapped up in the black suit he was once wearing.

“When did you have time to get that?” Michelangelo asked, his eyes going wide.

“Othello Vohn Ryan makes time!”

Raph laughed and shook his head at Donatello’s antics. He tried to lean over to give Mikey a hug.

Mikey flinched away quickly, his eyes going wide a moment while Raph eyed him with a slight tilt of his head. Mikey gulped. His chest started to feel tight again and he looked to Michelangelo for encouragement. Michelangelo was already looking back at him and gave an urging smile and nod that made Mikey take a deep breath and stop to address Raph.

“I… don’t really want a hug right now. Turtle power…?” Mikey smiled and held out his fist to Raph, his eyes almost pleading.

Raph was still at first, but then gave a jovial laugh and met the fist bump eagerly. “Turtle power!”

Leonardo jogged over to be with Leo. “Wanna talk?”

“Was it that obvious” Leo gave a weak laugh.

“Eh. I can just read people well.” Leonardo smiled and nudged Leo in the side.

Leo moved away from the touch with a slight scowl but made no comment on it.

“What you wanna talk about avocado head?”

Leo narrowed his eyes, but once more bit back a retort. “I wanted to apologize.”

“What for?”

Leo blinked, and for a moment he stuttered before he was able to speak more clearly. “I apologize for the way I have acted against you and your brother. Agitating you and… and yelling and… you still saved my family just now. Sorry— I’m not good at apologies.”

Leonardo laughed and gently bumped his fist against Leo’s shoulder. “Hey, no problem! Thanks for apologizing though. When we get home, I can tooooootally deck us out with food and drink of choice.”

“You’re… not mad?”

“Life is too short to hold grudges. No bad blood, right hermano?” Leonardo smiled and held out a hand to his counterpart.

Leo stared at Leonardo for the longest time before a smile finally crept its way into his face and he met the fist bump readily.

“No bad blood.”

"But I will hold this against you in any future arguments, FYI." Leonardo winked, "I never miss an opportunity to diss someone on past mistakes!"

Leo laughed and shoved his counterpart away from him, but Leonardo bounced right back and tried to slam his full weight into Leo to push him back, to no result.

"Hey! That's no fair!"

"Life ain't fair, Nardo!" Leo said, "Get used to it!"

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wtf-amiru · 2 years

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I think a lot about post SHB G'raha just watching A'miru be...different. He left an angry little kitten that didn't really like anyone, had no real close ties with anyone outside of Thancred (my HCS for them is that they've known each other for a long time BC A'miru was a little street rat hooligan) and seemed to only really tolerate him being goofy and he came back to a very affectionate woman who'd learnt to lean on her friends when she needed to.

It’d been a hard day and she's curled up in a blanket leaning against Urianger's back as he reads aloud in a quiet room, never would have happened before and he's intrigued.

He's not sure which is more shocking, the fact that she just trudged up and put her arms around Estinien without hesitation or the fact that he reciprocated the hug, with a smile even. What happened there, who are these people?

And just how many times does she need to go to Y'shtola's with Krile, what are they doing there?

She’d always been close with Thancred, he’d given her more than most people here, a chance to have all of this and call it her own. Hells, if it wasn’t for Thancred G’raha probably wouldn’t have ever met you but even that was different from the snippets he had seen before. Closer and softer and somehow more rowdy than before.

And Sid. Sidurgu had been the biggest surprise and somehow not surprising at all. The large and imposing Au Ra man in dark, pointed armor had no hesitation when A'miru strode up and somehow managed to hug him without hurting herself on his armor, he'd even almost smiled at her before noticing him and fixing him with a pointed glare. "Sid, he's the one that was taken you oaf, the reason she even knows you, remember?" A young Elezen chastises Sid and G'raha's just confused and intimidated. But the imposing knight softens once the words click into place and he fixes A'miru with a look, one that very clearly communicated "I'm happy for you, but I will kill him" and she hits him, moves to sit next to the Elezen girl at the table and brings G'raha with her.

While he had been away, perhaps because he had been away, she'd found her family, her people, her safe places. It hurt to know that he'd caused her so much pain when he left but it was utterly fascinating to see her flourish, learning the why and the how and he spends as long as it takes learning her new relationships.

Learning how and why she reacts to things occupies him for a long time and she notices. He also notices. Notices how dialed back she is around him sometimes, not crawling into him like she does some others and very restrained, deliberate in her touches and words and he thinks she's pushing him away at first. That tiny spike of jealousy? Envy? Or maybe just misunderstanding until she notices. He's focusing too much on her again, lost in his head trying to figure out the why and her hand is on his face, warm and soft pulling him out of his head and she finds a quiet place to talk to him. To tell him it's okay, he's all she ever wanted and more. That she just doesn't want to overwhelm him, doesn't want to push too hard, too fast; this didn't come all at once, you don't just start reading a book in the middle of it. And he has to concede that she's right and that sometimes it was all just too much for him yet. Too much success and happy endings, it didn't feel real a lot of the time. He explains how much it hurt to see her with all her walls up before he left her in that tower and how it almost felt like that again, or at least strongly reminded him of it now, when she was restraining herself and she apologizes, makes him promise to tell her if it ever becomes too much bc she'll gladly shower him with affection and attention and touches

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themurphyzone · 3 years

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PatB Oneshot: A Whole New Life for You and Me

For the air mice nyoom’s server Secret Santa for @deez-art! Decided to gift them a fic for the wonderful Brainladdin AU cause it’s so pure and I live for found family. I decided to go with the happy ending for the movie, cause Genie’s reaction upon being freed melts me every time.

@nuttersincorporated came up with the fun idea of Wakko calling Brainladdin ‘Dad’ and Brainladdin denying it every time. I thought it was cute XD

Summary: The evil Snowballjafar has been defeated, but there's still some loose ends that need to be wrapped up. And really, there are way too many emotions going on here for Brainladdin's comfort.

AO3 Link (No FFN post cause AO3 has easier x-over system).

No power, however grandiose and terrifying, could go unchecked by the laws of the universe. Snowballjafar had forgotten there were unseen forces far greater than himself, even with phenomenal cosmic power at his fingertips.

The price to pay? Itty bitty living space inside a cramped magical lamp.

Brainladdin stared down at the black lamp that now contained his former friend turned enemy. While part of him would always remember Snowballjafar as a fellow young orphan on the streets, he also knew that this fate was karma for all of the hamster’s cruelty.

Jaspinky wouldn’t be forced into a union he didn’t want. Yakko wouldn’t be forced to hurt the people he’d come to regard as his younger siblings. Wakko and Dot wouldn’t be forced to live in an ACMEbah under Snowballjafar’s iron command.

ACMEbah was restored. Everyone was safe.

Brainladdin gave the lamp to Yakko, now back to his normal self, or as normal as could be for a wisecracking genie with a penchant for cartoonish humor.

“Allow me,” Yakko said, winking at Wakko and Dot as he zipped towards the palace balcony that overlooked the city. The kids eagerly scrambled over to the balcony to watch the proceedings.

In a flash of light, Yakko now wore a backwards blue cap, Wakko sported some strange armor that covered his chest and face, and Dot had a pink helmet with her trademark yellow flower painted on the side. Wakko and Dot grinned up at Yakko with adoring expressions, hanging off the balcony a little too eagerly for Brainladdin’s peace of mind.

“Wakko! Get off that railing at once!” Brainladdin shouted.

“Yes, Pops,” Wakko said in the universal ‘exasperated teen’ tone, which Brain suspected he’d picked up from Yakko. But Wakko planted his two feet on safe ground anyway, settling for standing on his tiptoes instead.

“I’m not—oh forget it,” Brainladdin sighed. It wasn’t worth arguing about, and he’d rather just take the defeat now instead of prolonging it.

Jaspinky giggled, his jewelry swaying gently with every movement. His blue eyes sparkled once again, a much welcomed change from the abject terror he had experienced while drowning in the sand-filled hourglass. And really, he looked much better in blue and gold than seductive red.

It was an objective fact.

Yakko held the lamp in his left arm, then wound it so fast that it resembled a blue whirlwind. “This is it, folks! The real teeth-clenching, nailbiting, game-winning swing of whatever century we’re in!”

Another magical burst, and Brainladdin found himself holding a tiny triangular flag emblazoned with Dot’s flower. Jaspinky screamed in glee, waving a giant pointing foam finger that now covered his right hand. Brainladdin rolled his eyes, but held the flag as high as he could in a silent show of support.

Dot readied her large mallet as Wakko crouched behind her, punching his fist into the palm of his hand. Yakko zipped to the other side of the balcony, then hurled the lamp towards Dot with all his might.

THWACK!

Dot’s mallet connected with the lamp and sent it soaring high into the blue sky and far beyond the walls of ACMEbah, straight into the heart of the vast desert.

“THAT’S FOR JASPINKY, MY BROTHERS, AND BRAINLADDIN CAUSE I FEEL LIKE BEING GENEROUS, YOU STUPID HAMSTER!” Dot screamed as she dashed around the balcony at high speeds, high-fiving Jaspinky’s foam finger as she passed him.

“And it’s outta here, thanks to my new sister sib! What a swing!” Yakko ruffled Dot’s hair as she threw herself at Wakko, knocking him down from his crouched position. The two laughed and embraced, laughing in joy and relief that their ordeal was really over. The duo began an odd victory dance that involved a lot of stomping both of them and rude hand gestures to the horizon on Dot’s part. “He’s looking at uhhhhhhhh…about a ten thousand year sentence in the Cave of Wonders. Without parole or bail, unless some poor shmuck decides to release him in a cashgrab sequel. But that’s a problem for another time.”

Brainladdin allowed himself a tiny smile. And Jaspinky smiled that bright, silly smile that always seemed to make Brainladdin’s chest flutter swiftly and strange, but not in a wholly unpleasant way either.

To think this entire business had started out as a way to ascend to the throne of ACMEbah. Leave poverty behind him. Get Wakko some actual food and not worry about amputated limbs courtesy of angry shopkeepers.

He hadn’t counted on falling head over heels for Jaspinky’s gentle spirit. Who wanted to marry for love and not for power or fame or wealth. Nor had he counted on striking up a genuine friendship with a powerful magical being, who had wishes of his own yet was bound to the desires of his master.

Wakko lived by the rules of the street rat like Brainladdin, but he’d found a kinship with others willing to show him the affection Brainladdin couldn’t offer him.

Dot could finally be a child, a rather clever and self-sufficient one, and now she had brothers who would watch her back from this point on.

And Brainladdin found himself back to square one. There were other methods to take over ACMEbah, but he couldn’t continue perpetrating this lie.

Jaspinky deserved someone better than him. Wakko should be taken care of by people who would provide for every physical need and show him the love he deserved. He didn’t get along with Dot, but she was protective of Jaspinky, and it was by far her most admirable trait.

Most importantly, this quest would’ve been doomed to fail from the beginning if it hadn’t been for Yakko, who supported the endeavor in his snarky, playful way, entertained with his magic, and didn’t seem to begrudge Brainladdin for not keeping his promise when he’d been blinded by power.

Really, Yakko never should’ve been locked away from the world, only to come out when someone wanted to use him.

“Pondering again, Brainladdin?” Jaspinky asked. He took off the foam finger and set it down gently, then carefully pried the flag out of Brainladdin’s hands. His fingers were warm and gentle, much like how they’d held hands on that whimsical carpet ride just a few starlit nights ago.

“Yes,” Brainladdin said softly. He swallowed the lump in his throat, then took Jaspinky’s hands in his and tried not to think about how this would be the last time he might ever see him. “And I’m sorry I lied to you about being a prince.”

Jaspinky teared up, his impossibly blue eyes reflecting the sky above. “It’s okay. I know why you did,” he whispered, like the lie was easy to forgive, just like that.

A street rat couldn’t hope to change a centuries-old law. Street rats had no power, no connections, no respect. And the Sultan-CEO wouldn’t approve of any match but the ones she selected for Jaspinky, regardless of his wishes.

“I suppose this is goodbye.” Brainladdin squeezed Jaspinky’s hands, just to prolong releasing his hands for a little longer.

“It’s not fair,” Jaspinky whimpered. “I love you.”

Brainladdin had seen those words float around in every step, every touch, every look from Jaspinky. But to hear it spoken out loud…

Well, it seemed he would be yearning for much more than power once he returned to the street.

A few teardrops splashed down from above. Yakko sniffed into a handkerchief, and Wakko and Dot stopped dancing, the reality of the situation sinking in, judging from their crestfallen expressions.

“Sorry. Never been this invested in a love story before,” Yakko said, poofing the handkerchief away as he drifted down next to Brainladdin. “But ya still got one wish left. Might as well use it. Just say the word and it’s riches, elephants, an entourage, and the whole prince shebang.”

Even after I went back on my promise to set you free? Brainladdin wanted to ask, but the words caught in his throat. You still want to offer me a chance to be with Jaspinky?

“Eh, what’s an eternity of servitude to love?” Yakko stretched casually, as if he could read Brainladdin’s thoughts. He bumped noses with Jaspinky, who smiled despite his tears. “You only come across someone like Jaspinky…well, never actually. Then again, trying to score a date can be pretty hard when you’re stuck in a lamp.”

Brainladdin cupped Jaspinky’s cheek in the palm of his hand. He wouldn’t feel his warm, luxurious fur ever again.

“Jaspinky…while I-I reciprocate your affections, I can’t fabricate an entire persona to make you…you know.” Brainladdin looked down, unable to meet Jaspinky’s tearful gaze.

“Um…” Jaspinky just sounded confused.

“He stinks at admitting he loves you even though it’s completely obvious cause he actually wants you to be happy unlike all those other rotten, no-good, stuck-up jerkwad princes!” Dot shouted.

He could’ve done without the insult, but he nodded his thanks to Dot for the translation to Jaspinky terms.

“I understand, Brainladdin,” Jaspinky murmured. He kissed the back of Brainladdin’s hand, soft lips pressing against the calloused skin. Brainladdin allowed a moment for the kiss to settle, then pulled away to take care of one last piece of business.

“Yakko, I wish for your freedom,” Brainladdin declared.

This was his chance to set things right. So that Yakko would have his freedom, never be forced to serve a cruel master again, and fully become the loving, questionably responsible brother he was meant to be.

“Right away! Vipers, monkeys, gold, coming right-” Yakko said, dusting off his gloves and cracking his knuckles. He raised his arms, then paused in surprise, the final wish not quite registering yet. “-wait, what?”

Brainladdin held the lamp up to Yakko. The forever-teenager’s powers would be his own, never subject to anyone’s whims again.

“Yakko, you’re free.”

Blue smoke poured out of the lamp as it rose out of Brainladdin’s hands, swirling around Yakko’s body as he looked on, completely speechless for probably the first time in millennia. His eyebrows drew up in shock, his arms making odd, meaningless motions as if he didn’t know what to do with his own body. Bolts of cosmic, ancient magic weaved around Yakko in indescribable colors, sparking clouds of massive energy that had never been witnessed before or ever again.

Jaspinky rested his jaw on top of Brainladdin’s head, not caring if he squished his fez. Wakko’s tongue lolled out happily, and Dot bounced up and down in sheer amazement before catching herself and settling for a joyful grin. Together they watched the golden shackles around Yakko’s wrists break and vanish into a cloud of magical sparkles.

Yakko stared at his own bare wrists, rubbing them and feeling the fur beneath his bonds, probably for the first time in his long life. He turned them in every possible direction, his mouth making movements that were heavily reminiscent of a fish out of water.

“I’m free?” Yakko asked in disbelief. He gingerly picked up his lamp by the handle, tapping it a few times in case it had any power left. But the lamp had lost its golden sheen, its exterior now a dull brown. Yakko’s chest heaved up and down rapidly. “I’m free.”

His voice was tiny, not at all full of confidence and bravado as Brainladdin had admittedly grown fond of throughout this whole ordeal.

Then he cleared his throat, thrusting the depowered lamp into Brainladdin’s arms and startling Jaspinky enough that his arms slipped off Brainladdin’s head. Jaspinky laughed it off, and Brainladdin nudged him with his foot.

“Quick! Wish for something outrageous! Wish for denial!” Yakko begged as he covered his eyes, turning away from Brainladdin. “That’s it! Denial!”

Brainladdin shrugged, but obliged anyway. “I wish for denial?”

“Psych! Like you really need me for something you’ve already got!” Yakko shouted in Brainladdin’s face, giggling uncontrollably.

Brainladdin sighed and pushed Yakko’s face away from his, but Yakko’s glee was absolutely infectious, and even he couldn’t help but smile as Yakko bounced off pillars and roofs and the ground below, reveling in his newfound freedom. Whatever Yakko planned to do, Brainladdin had no doubts that the genie would use his liberation from the lamp well.

“I’mfreeI’mfreeI’mfree—I’M FREE!” Yakko chanted the mantra over and over. He lifted Wakko and Dot onto his shoulders and nuzzled their noses, and they returned the gesture with huge smiles. Wakko leaned a little too far over for comfort as the trio celebrated in midair, but it seemed that Yakko’s magic allowed him to stay on without worrying about the laws of physics.

“You know, I’ve always wanted to see the world! You know how boring lamp interiors are? It’s good that you don’t, cause you’ll be bored if I answered that!” Yakko exclaimed as he conjured a long, blue slide that allowed Wakko and Dot to safely return to the balcony in style. Then he broke out an enormous suitcase, packing clothes, toys, and other items with a ridiculous amount of arms.

So Yakko planned to leave too. But Brainladdin tried to hang onto the joy of Yakko’s freedom for a little longer, trying not to linger on how his life always consisted of saying goodbye to anyone he met that he’d grown to…tolerate.

“Well, off to see the sights! Tahiti, China, the Galapagos, Pennsylvania, Switzer-“

Yakko paused and looked down, a bag of apples in one hand and a potted cactus in another. His mouth opened in surprise. He was watching Brainladdin.

Then Brainladdin’s vision blurred. He wiped his eyes, and his fingers came away damp. No one else had commented yet, though Jaspinky’s hand was on the small of his back, but Brainladdin said nothing. Best to ingrain the memory of Jaspinky’s soft touch in his mind while he had the chance.

Yakko wiped away a few tears of his own, his form shrinking until he was just a head taller than Wakko.

“Poit. I’ll let you have a moment,” Jaspinky whispered. Brainladdin only registered his words just as the gentle pressure vanished from his back. Dot knelt, taking Jaspinky in her cupped hands. She was silent, only giving Yakko an odd look before retreating into the palace for her own private conversation with the princess, leaving Wakko and Brainladdin alone with Yakko.

A case of déjà vu swept through Brainladdin. He and Wakko alone in the Cave of Wonders. Wakko bouncing along to a bombastic musical number, where he could have a fun childhood experience that ACMEbah refused to grant. Yakko’s excitement over simply talking to living beings.

At first, Yakko was just a means to an end. He was powerful, and it wasn’t difficult to work within the boundaries of his genie limitations. Maybe he could’ve took things more seriously, maybe he could’ve stopped jabbering for just a few seconds so Brainladdin could get a word or two in. Although Yakko had been trapped within a role, he still made everyone smile, he was protective, and he was kind.

“Hey.” Yakko tapped Brainladdin’s forehead. “You really oughta stop that brooding habit of yours.”

“I don’t brood. I ponder,” Brainladdin shot back, ridding himself of the watery veil in his eyes. Yakko provided him with a handkerchief, and Brainladdin blew his nose. The item poofed away. “Thanks, Yakko. For everything, and not just for convenient items you can create without obeying the laws of physics and other scientific fields.”

“Are you really gonna see the world?” Wakko asked, his eyes shining with wonder.

Wakko had expressed a desire to see the world many times before, but only so he could earn enough money to help Brainladdin put bread on the table. One of Brainladdin’s regrets about this elaborate plan falling through, really. Nobody, especially a child, should ever have to worry about rationing one loaf of bread and an apple to last a week.

Here was a prime opportunity for Wakko to experience the world without financial woes dragging him down from truly enjoying it, since Yakko could just create money and food as needed and serve as a somewhat responsible guardian for him.

Brainladdin didn’t ask though, but only because he didn’t know how to broach the topic. Wakko would never follow his own dream if he was constantly worried for Brainladdin, and it didn’t feel quite right to request something of Yakko so soon after his new freedom.

Yakko nodded, wiping away a stray tear from his cheek. “Well, more than what I’m seeing right now, anyway. And really, it’s no problem-o. At least you guys aren’t boring. Can’t say the same about all the other masters I’ve had.”

“I’m gonna miss you,” Wakko admitted. He held up his arms, and Yakko scooped him up in an enormous hug. Wakko flopped like a sack of potatoes, nuzzling into Yakko’s fur.

“Heh, you too, kid,” Yakko murmured. “Boy, have you been filling up on the palace’s sweetcakes or something since we started this whole thing?”

It wasn’t healthy sustenance by any means, but if Wakko was truly putting on weight, then Brainladdin saw no reason to complain.

Yakko shifted his brother so that he was secure in one arm, then set his other hand on the ground next to Brainladdin, who stepped into the offered palm. Yakko set Brainladdin on his shoulder, a gentle brush of magic preventing any accidental falls.

“Yakko…” Brainladdin could barely look him in the eye. “Though your antics could be somewhat over the top, you go about them with a certain degree of charm. And I suppose…I’ll miss you as well.”

“Awww, only somewhat over the top? Looks like I gotta up my game.” Yakko cracked a grin. Then he pushed his nose against Brainladdin’s, and while it was an odd feeling to be nuzzled on the nose, he didn’t push Yakko away either.

Wakko made an angry noise in the back of his throat.

Brainladdin shrugged. His dignity had been torn to shreds anyway. “I can learn to tolerate one more.”

And Wakko immediately closed the distance, his knee digging into Yakko’s smoky tail and somehow making him go ‘oomph’ even though there shouldn’t have been anything with substance there. Wakko’s nuzzle was somewhat rougher than Yakko’s, but it wasn’t anything Brainladdin couldn’t handle.

And this was long overdue, Brainladdin thought as he patted Wakko’s cheek. Had he ever done this while Wakko was awake and conscious to feel it? He wasn’t sure, but as Jaspinky taught him…it wasn’t too late to start.

“Who cares what anyone says? You guys are always gonna be royalty to me,” Yakko declared.

Wakko closed his eyes and almost melted right there, and Yakko had to set him down carefully since the kid’s body composition seemed to be made out of shifting sand with all the physical contact. Brainladdin carefully climbed down Yakko’s arm and tried not to tear up again at his words.

Just as Brainladdin’s feet touched the ground, there was a furious scream from the door on the far side of the room.

“The Sultan-CEO is just…AHHHHHHH!” Dot shouted as she stomped across the tiled floor and slumped against the balcony railing, her head smacking against the metal bars. Her brothers threw their arms around her instantly, and her ire diminished, though she was still wracked with tension.

Jaspinky trailed behind her, his shoulders and tail drooping, the golden band around his tail making sad tap-tap-tap noises.

Shoot. He was still crying.

“I’m sorry, Brainladdin.” Jaspinky twisted his tail between his hands. “Sultan-CEO-Mom’s still awfully mad. Some dictator from the kingdom of Dunlikus was supposed to meet with her but got caught in a whirlywind from Snowballjafar’s evil magic. She wouldn’t listen to us. But…Dot tried to convince her about you. She really did.”

“I believe you, Jaspinky,” Brainladdin quietly said as he patted Jaspinky’s back. Jaspinky sniffed once, twice, then intertwined his tail with Brainladdin’s. While Brainladdin’s tail was crooked and stiff from the amount of times he’d been roughly grabbed while stealing, Jaspinky’s was smooth and unblemished. “Did she say anything to Dot in particular?”

It was rather interesting to watch Jaspinky’s tail flow with every unrestrained emotion. Yet it also served as a reminder of their very different social statuses.

Jaspinky nodded sadly. “She said Dot doesn’t have any good ideas cause she’s just a kid who doesn’t know how the real world works. But then…neither of us have really seen the world outside the palace. The magic carpet ride was my first time, and it really was a magical wonderful memory I’ll treasure forever. But Dot-well, how do we know how the world works if we’re stuck here?”

For all his oddities, Jaspinky could ask the most profound questions.

“You won’t.”

But Jaspinky couldn’t live in the city either. Brainladdin didn’t want Jaspinky’s kindred spirit snuffed out by the cynicism and roughness of the streets.

Jaspinky winced, hurt shining in his blue eyes. Realizing his reply came out blunter than he intended, Brainladdin rubbed a circle into Jaspinky’s hand in a silent apology. Jaspinky lifted Brainladdin’s fez and planted a kiss on top of his head, then made a show of adjusting the fez.

Brainladdin took Jaspinky by the hand and led him to the siblings. He wondered how exactly he’d come to have more physical contact in the past day than what he’d given and received in years. Truth be told, it was a terrifying yet exhilarating change. But it would also be tinged with bittersweet.

After Jaspinky, he doubted he’d be able to ever touch anyone like this ever again.

“It’s okay-“ Yakko tried, hands held out to placate Dot.

“No, it’s not!”

Wakko was silent, but he was the first to spot Brainladdin and Jaspinky joining them. He gently turned Dot so that she was no longer glaring daggers into the buildings of ACMEbah. The fur around her eyes was damp with tears.

Jaspinky climbed up the skirt of Dot’s pink and white dress and perched on her shoulder, humming comfort into her ear. Dot stroked his head with her finger, and his foot kicked rapidly. She gave a tiny laugh.

Which was excellent, because Brainladdin was rather weary of all the crying. “Jaspinky explained what happened with the Sultan-CEO,” he said. “Though it didn’t have the results you wanted, we’d like to commend your effort regardless.”

“What Brainladdin said!” Jaspinky chirped. “Remember that mean ol’ Chance O’ Ler from Turkey? He was so scared of Sultan-CEO-Mom that his pants changed colors! But you didn’t even flinch in front of her!”

“Hey, how come nobody invited me to witness all this?” Yakko pouted, holding up a dramatic Greek mask with an exaggerated frown. “I would’ve drawn pictures of that moment, you know! I’m getting really good with my sketches!”

He snapped his fingers, and five large scrolls materialized, each containing a drawing of everyone in their group. Brainladdin thought it was a surprisingly accurate representation of himself…

…except his hands resembled a lump with misshapen sausages for fingers attached.

It was the most glaring flaw in all the other scrolls too.

“Are those chain-link sausages?” Wakko asked, pointing to his own sketch. Brainladdin was just glad he wasn’t the only one who thought so.

“I like them!” Jaspinky said, wiggling his own fingers.

“It was mostly proportionate. But the hands leave a lot to be desired,” Brainladdin added.

Dot only covered her mouth and ducked her head.

Yakko shrugged, the scrolls disappearing. “Private tutors and art references are hard to come by when you’re stuck in a lamp.”

Then Dot burst into laughter, Jaspinky chortling alongside her as her shoulders rapidly bounced up and down. She lightly struck the railing with her fist multiple times. There were tears again, but they came from joy rather than sadness.

“Those—ha! I can’t—Yakko, you really captured my good side…but oh my gosh-“ Dot could barely speak between breaths, a huge smile breaking out on her face.

Yakko winked at her. “Figured that would snap you outta it.”

Dot just hugged him back, and Yakko let out another ‘oomph’ as tiny yet strong arms encircled him. “Geez, what do you mice feed these kids?” he wheezed.

Jaspinky stood up, dusting his clothes off and trying a small test jump. “Zort! Brainladdin, catch me!”

A mass of fur, clothing, and narf crashed into Brainladdin, knocking him to the ground with no chance to prepare. He spat out a tassel from Jaspinky’s sleeve. The princess was way too cheerful about his impromptu belly flop.

Then Jaspinky sprang back up, helping Brainladdin to his feet as well. “Dot, I’m really happy to be your friend,” Jaspinky said. “But if Yakko doesn’t mind, I think it would be amazingly fun and wonderful if you could see the world for yourself.”

“Course I don’t mind!” Yakko exclaimed as he threw Dot into the air and caught her. “I’ll have to redo my travel itinerary, but it’ll be more fun that way! If I put Tahiti before Pennsylvania, we can go snorkeling with dolphins on a nice sunny Friday, no hold on a sec, China should be first cause it’s been way too long since I’ve had dumplings, and Greece can-“

“YAKKO, HOLD ON A SEC!” Dot shouted just as Yakko prepared to throw her again. She dangled somewhat precariously next to Yakko’s legs, but she didn’t seem to mind her position all that much.

It surprised Brainladdin that Yakko was willing to accept a new responsibility so readily, and he caught the wistful look on Wakko’s face when Yakko happily declared he’d love company on his trip, but he knew Wakko wouldn’t accept. From Dot’s forlorn expression as she glanced at Jaspinky, she wouldn’t take her chance either.

ACMEbah had a way of robbing everyone of a happy childhood. It appeared sadly common to every social class.

“I don’t take orders from anyone, not even princesses,” Dot growled. “And I’m not leaving you to the tender mercies of the Sultan-CEO or anyone who just wants a pretty face with money, Jaspinky.”

But Jaspinky shook his head. “You won’t have to worry about me though. Cause I’ll live in the city with Brainladdin and Wakko. So I won’t be alone!”

What? That is possibly the least reassuring thing you could’ve said right now, idiot!

Dot’s expression turned stormy. She was thinking along the same lines too.

“Did-did I say something wrong?” Jaspinky’s ears drooped. “I can do some good in the city. I-I never knew things were so bad. And I wanna help.”

“Put that fluff between your ears to use and think, Jaspinky!” Brainladdin snapped. Jaspinky’s mouth quivered. Brainladdin took a deep breath, mentally counting to ten before clasping Jaspinky’s hands between his own. “I…I’m sorry. For my outburst. But remind yourself of our first meeting in the marketplace. You meant well when you took the apple off the fruit stand and gave it to Wakko, but you barely understood the concepts of money and payment, and you completely froze when the shopkeeper barbarically tried to chop off your hand.”

“You saved me though,” Jaspinky said.

“Yes, but if the shopkeeper had been faster with his sword? If I was too far to help you? And your lack of a disguise was another issue. You waltzed into the marketplace with all your finery and no protection. Someone would notice eventually. The best case scenario? Your clothes and jewelry would’ve been stolen, but that’s all. And if someone chose to kidnap you for ransom or worse, the palace and royal guards would’ve been in an uproar. If that hypothetical situation came to pass, guess which group would be suspected first.”

“N-no,” Jaspinky whimpered. “I-I didn’t mean-“

“I know why you did though. You weren’t malicious, just naïve. There’s nothing to apologize for or forgive.” Brainladdin pulled Jaspinky’s head down until their cheeks touched. Jaspinky’s fur was a different sort of warm, not blistering hot like the desert sun, but more of a soft ray of light.

The princess had walked among the commoners for the same reason Brainladdin had disguised himself as a prince. Because he’d felt trapped by a societal role and just wanted to be free.

“Brainladdin?” Jaspinky’s voice was oddly distant.

“If you leave the safety of the palace—if they realize you’ve taken the lifestyle of a common street rat—they’ll hate you. Nobody will see you. But you’ll be blamed. For things you didn’t do…or just for trying to survive. And you’ll lose your good heart, Jaspinky. I can’t even protect Wakko from the consequences. But he’s already figured out some of it. So please…don’t…l-leave…”

Don’t leave the palace…don’t leave me…

Wakko’s hand rested against Brainladdin’s back. The child was always too generous for his own good. It was a quality that Brainladdin couldn’t bring himself to force Wakko to lose, as much as it was a detriment to his survival.

Brainladdin’s vision blurred, and he felt water leak out of his eyes against his will. He was going to die of dehydration at this rate. Jaspinky nuzzled his cheek, humming a meaningless tune into his ear.

The magic carpet ride had been one of the most awe-inspiring experiences of his life. Soft fabric beneath them, close quarters necessitating physical contact, a navy starlit sky above. Being weightless, being free from the worry of scavenging for scraps or taking over ACMEbah, being able to see the wonder in Jaspinky’s eyes as he touched a cloud for the first time…

They weren’t Brainladdin the street rat and Princess Jaspinky in the sky. No, there were no statuses to worry about, no pressures to conform to.

Jaspinky petting a wild horse as it galloped across the land. The stars twinkling in Jaspinky’s eyes. His excitement when he experienced something he’d never seen or done before.

Yet it would be nothing more than a wistful memory.

“They’re still trapped, you know. There’s gotta be something we can do,” a quiet voice said.

Wakko.

“Jaspinky. Brainladdin. You guys really love each other, don’t you?” Dot asked.

Brainladdin wiped his tears on his vest, not caring that it was one of the few pieces of clothing he owned. He looked up at Dot, who was seated on Yakko’s shoulders.

She’d been nothing more than an irritating obstacle when he tried to woo Jaspinky. But if it weren’t for her presence, Jaspinky likely would’ve been married to someone he didn’t love.

He really couldn’t fault her for hating the made-up Prince Brainli.

“He’s my world,” Brainladdin whispered, his voice barely audible, even to himself. He gave Jaspinky a tiny nuzzle, and Jaspinky’s tail intertwined with his own once again.

“And mine too,” Jaspinky agreed.

Dot watched them for just a moment longer. Then her back straightened, her head tilting proudly. Her foot tapped against Yakko’s chest.

“As someone who’s secretly observed the Sultan-CEO’s political meetings and learned the do’s and don’ts of palace business, I’m the most qualified one here for the position of temporary Sultan-CEO,” she declared. “Yakko. A scroll and quill, if you please.”

Yakko grinned, and the requested items appeared. “Your wish is my command.”

“Thank you,” Dot said with a firm nod.

Brainladdin glanced at Jaspinky and Wakko, but they seemed just as confused as he was. He wasn’t sure if one could just declare themselves Sultan-CEO. That wasn’t really how it worked.

“I, acting Sultan-CEO Princess Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca the Third, also known as Dot, hereby decree that the Royal Marriage Law of 1175 is null and void, and from this day forth, the princess of ACMEbah shall marry whoever they deem worthy.”

The quill jotted Dot’s decree word for word on the scroll, every letter emblazoned with a golden shine.

“Now for the seal of approval!” Dot shouted.

Another flash of magic transformed Wakko into a black and white seal, the scroll was brought down to his nose level, and he gave the paper a large, slobbery lick. Then he clapped, his flippers beating together as Yakko tossed several fish fillets into his mouth.

Then the scroll disappeared, and Wakko transformed back, white bits of fish still coating his mouth.

“This new decree is non-negotiable and binding,” Yakko said. “And I’ve also taken the liberty of framing, enlarging, and sticking it in a palace hallway our dear power-hungry Sultan-CEO frequents. She won’t be able to remove it no matter how hard she tries.”

As if on cue, there was a distant horrified scream that practically blew one of the domed roofs of the palace off.

What just happened? She can really do that?

Jaspinky squealed in glee, right next to Brainladdin’s ear. He barely had time to rub the sensitive hairs before Jaspinky lifted him into the air and spun him around so fast that he saw more stars than the sun in broad daylight. And they were absolutely beautiful.

“I choose you, Brainladdin!” Jaspinky exclaimed. His laughter was like a melody, Brainladdin losing himself in the music, and he was probably grinning like a fool too but he no longer cared about that because he could be with Jaspinky, and there was an entire world for them and them alone!

Brainladdin clung to Jaspinky’s shoulders, steadying himself as Jaspinky set him down again. He brushed Pinky’s jewelry out of the way, and Jaspinky pressed his forehead against his own.

“Call me Brain,” Brainladdin murmured, and he held Jaspinky close.

They were no longer trapped. They were free. They could be together.

His heart quickened, and it was an exhilarating feeling indeed.

“Alright, everyone into the group hug!” Yakko shouted, and a giant hand scooped them up. Brainladdin was instantly sandwiched between Jaspinky and Wakko, Dot squeezing herself into the crook of Yakko’s arm on Jaspinky’s opposite side. It was getting hard to breathe, but he couldn’t tell if that was from the force of Yakko’s hug or a side effect of the emotionally charged atmosphere. “Now that we’re all done baring our souls.”

“Thank you, Dot!” Jaspinky exclaimed, hugging the girl’s cheek. “Thankyousomuch! And now that I’ve got Brainladdin staying with me, you should go with Yakko! No ifs or buts, young lady!”

Dot smirked. “You just wanna get rid of me so you can do stuff with Brainladdin.” There was something sneaky in her voice that Brainladdin heavily disliked. “But I’ll gladly take this vacation.”

“I could never get rid of you, Dot! You’re my best handmaiden!” Jaspinky protested.

“Simmer, Jaspinky,” Brainladdin said, and the princess relaxed. “She’s only teasing. That being said, I highly detest her tone.”

He gave Dot a pointed glare, and she casually placed her elbow against Yakko’s arm. “You’re not a complete jerk, but if I were as bigheaded as you, I’d avoid most of the rooms on the southern side. I still haven’t disabled the booby trapped perfume bottles that spray catfish guts yet. You’ll be mostly safe on the east side though.”

“And you’re not a complete brat. Just an annoyingly clever one,” he muttered.

Dot looked all too pleased with herself.

At least he’d finally confirmed who rigged that perfume bottle on his second night as Prince Brainli in the palace.

“Perfect!” Yakko exclaimed, and confetti showered down on everyone. “So any particular places in mind? A change of scenery would do you some good!”

“Burbank. Machu Picchu. Rome,” Dot said. “I’ll come up with more later. You got any ideas, Wakko?”

Wakko shook his head, only staring at the ground far below them.

“Wakko? Wakster? Wakaroo?” Yakko frowned, gently shaking Wakko, who only went limp. “C’mon, we know you’ve got places you wanna visit. Mostly for the exotic food, right?”

“Sorry. I’d love to go, but-“ Wakko’s face fell.

This wasn’t like before, where Brainladdin refused to let Wakko venture outside ACMEbah. Now neither of them would be alone in this world.

“Look at me, Wakko.” Brainladdin held onto one of Wakko’s fingers with both hands, and the boy obeyed. “As the soon-to-be ruler of ACMEbah, I will be living in the palace with Jaspinky. There’s no more need for concern. And you have a somewhat responsible brother and an irritatingly capable sister who will always have your back. Your new objective is to explore the world for yourself, and if you try to send money back or work yourself to the bone, I shall have to ground you.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Wakko snatched him up for an enormous hug. Brainladdin gasped for air, fairly certain one lung was punctured and his left kidney had been knocked out of place from the tight squeeze.

“Oxygen!” he wheezed. Wakko relented and returned him to Jaspinky, who was more of a white and blue blur than a mouse right now.

“Faboo, Dad!” Wakko exclaimed, much to Yakko and Dot’s joy.

“Yes, faboo indeed,” Brainladdin muttered, a dizzy spell from the lack of oxygen overtaking him. He slumped against Jaspinky. “I expect a letter every night, Wakko.”

If Wakko replied, his voice was lost in Yakko and Dot’s chatter over their travel plans. Brainladdin and Jaspinky were deposited on the balcony, Brainladdin finally recovering his vision so he could see the siblings off.

“Bye-bye! Bring back souvenirs! Troz!” Jaspinky shouted, his jewelry jingling as he waved goodbye to the siblings.

“Farewell for now,” Brainladdin said, crossing his arms over his chest. Best to act like he was ruling ACMEbah after all. He tried not to squeeze too tightly, if only to stop the slight ache in his chest from all this emotional nonsense.

“You heard them! Let’s blow this popsicle stand!” Yakko shouted, and he shot into the sky like a firework with Wakko and Dot in his arms. The two screamed in delight, their laughter echoing off the buildings of ACMEbah. “Let’s give the lovebirds some space!”

“We’re history!” Dot yelled.

“We’re mythology!” Wakko added.

“I DON’T CARE WHAT WE ARE! WE’RE FREE!”

In a shower of magic, they shot across the sky and were gone, off to tour the world to celebrate their new lives.

Jaspinky waved to the sky for a moment longer, then turned to Brainladdin, that stupid, silly, wonderful smile on his face. “I’ve got sweetcakes and tea in the kitchen. Do you want any?”

Brainladdin rolled his eyes. “Don’t ask stupid questions, Jaspinky.”

They headed to the kitchen, walking hand-in-hand, never to be separated again.

o-o-o-o-o

Colorful fireworks burst around them, lighting up the night sky in flares of red and green and blue. The stars shone from above, the earth and all its worries far beneath them. A breeze tugged them along, the magic carpet pulling this way and that with no clear destination in mind. But they didn’t need one.

Whichever way the winds blow, as they say.

“Look, Brainladdin! Another letter!” Jaspinky pointed to a paper drifting towards them, protected by a cloud of Yakko’s magic. He leaned over the side in his excitement to grab it out of the air. Brainladdin kept hold of Jaspinky’s tail just in case, though the magic carpet was sentient enough to lift that side up to prevent accidental falls. The letter floated into Pinky’s hand, and he scrambled back to Brainladdin, showing off the letter proudly. “It’s a J! Wakko’s very good with oregano. I wish he’d teach me!”

He really should’ve been more clear with his expectations for Wakko.

“That’s a Y, Jaspinky. And oregano is a spice. This is the paper craft known as origami.” Brainladdin tucked the Y inside the folds of his royal robe for safekeeping. It would go nicely with the W and D that were already on his nightstand.

“Oh. Well then, it’s a very nice Y!”

“Yes, it’s constructed well.”

Another firework flared, and Jaspinky oohed and awwed at the wondrous sight, his eyes ever an innocent, pretty blue. He’d picked a new outfit for tonight: a purple crop top with matching pants and headband, a see through, puffy material that framed his bare shoulders wonderfully, and golden earrings.

The fireworks paled in comparison.

Jaspinky gasped in awe. “Look, Brainladdin! A shooting star! What’d you wish for?”

Brainladdin glanced at the canopy above, where a meteor shower zipped through the upper atmosphere. “You first.”

“Narf! Alright. I wished for a world where we can all be happy! Your turn!”

Sentimental, yet thoughtful. Of course.

“I wish…for our lives to be fulfilling.”

Jaspinky smiled. “Looks like our wishes came true then.”

“An astute observation,” Brainladdin said.

Jaspinky kissed him, and warmth flooded through Brainladdin’s body. They soared into the starry horizon, the full moon shining from afar. A new world awaited them.

AN: This…uh…this is way longer than I intended it to be. I hope you enjoyed this story. This is my first time writing the Warner siblings, so I combined some of the posts Deez-art made about this AU for my characterization of them. I apologize if they were out of character, but I did have fun with them. Especially Dot. For some reason her dialogue is just fun to write.

Also, Brain angsts too easily. That’s why this story is almost 7000 words.

Some of the dialogue comes directly from the 1992 Aladdin movie.

I HAVE LISTENED TO A WHOLE NEW WORLD HOW MANY TIMES FOR THIS STORY. THIS ISN’T THE FIRST TIME I’VE DONE THIS EITHER. I NEED NEW LOVE SONGS.

As for why this story is published on AO3 instead of FFN, it’s just easier to tag this sort of thing there.

#pinky and the brain #brinky #brainladdin au #patb fanfiction

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 4 years

Note

Pining companions and sole getting stuck in a small cramped place to hide from some enemies maybe? Also with X6 if possible...? 👉👈 and I absolutely love your most recent companions react. Keep up the great work and stay safe!

(Thank you so much for the request and extra special thanks for the compliment, things like that are what keep me wanting to write 💖 hope you enjoy.)

Cait:

She was both super excited and super freaked out. That was a major problem for her, mainly because she wasn’t nearly as unnerved by the feral ghouls outside the shitty little fortress you assembled as she was scared of saying the wrong thing while you wait. She never has been the type to worry about such stupid things, but with you? That was a different story, ever since you proven yourself to her...and since she realized that you stopped becoming just friends and she started wanting something more.

So with that being said, she’d nervously tap her foot, bite her lip and take back-to-back swigs from her flask- sheepishly offering you some of her drink as well. Just anything to keep her mind off of how strongly she felt the urge to grab ahold of your pretty face and kiss you and tell you how crazy you drive her.

That probably wouldn’t be the best thing to do when your life was literally being threatened.

Curie:

Oh my, she was so excited. I mean..as excited as someone forced into hiding for their life could be..which was still pretty excited for her. She was well aware of the dangers beyond your tiny refuge but she couldn’t help but focus on the way that your hands brushed up against each other as you settled, a big smile on her lips and a small blush to pair.

She wasn’t quite sure why you had this kind of effect on her much less what the “effect” really was, but whatever the reason, it was intoxicating.

Danse:

At first he was completely fine, jumping out his suit of armor to use it as a barricade in case the super mutants just so happened to track the two of you back to your makeshift hiding space. However..when he climbed out of the steel contraption and realized just how small the room was, he began to panic all over again.

There wasn’t anywhere he could move without brushing up against you. It would’ve all been okay has you been literally anyone else, but you? Well you just had this terrible way of setting his flesh ablaze with a mere look, his nose and cheeks flushing bright red when you flashed a small cheeky smile.

“Well Paladin...think we should just wait it out this time. I call being the big spoon..”

And just like that, Danse thought he was going to faint.

Deacon:

More than anything deacon was scared. Not because it was you though, no, he was far too comfortable despite his little crush to be scared to hunker down with you. You were like his best friend after all...well he certainly hoped that one day you’d be a little more when the two of you were in a better place......literally.

As for now, he’d settle for whispering small jokes to distract you from the looming feeling of peril that took form as the pissed off institue synths lurking just beyond the safe refuge of the meager broom closet he pulled you inside.

Gage:

His primary objective was to make sure the stupid nuka-lurks wouldn’t bust through the doorway, his single hazel colored eye darting around the ridiculously small room in search of a way to fortify your surroundings.

He’d be damned if he let anything happen to you.

After your help putting up what little barricades you could make, he sighed, turning on his heels..only to completely brush up against you.

It was then the raider realized just how cramped your makeshift refuge was...he realized just how close the two of you were going to be for who knows how long.

While the thought made his heart hammer in chest, he couldn’t help the smug grin that tugged at the corners of his lips.

This should be interesting to say the least.

Hancock:

Had it not been for the inherent danger of the vastly outnumbering amount of raiders on the other side of the wall, he might’ve actually gotten to enjoy the close contact with you. Don’t get me wrong though, a piece of him was starting to feel all..strange.

By this point he was well aware of his feelings for you, just not on how to proceed with them..there wasn’t really ever a good time to confront you with it anyways. Besides, now certainly wasn’t either.

That still didn’t stop Hancock from doing a little victory dance internally. Hey, it might’ve not been ideal..but at least he was damn close to you right now.

He’ll take it.

Macready:

Be it his experience in little lamplight or the countless other “eventful” things he’d endured throughout his life, Mac wasn’t terribly phased.

Sure, the mere thought of being truly stuck, death literally around the corner was scary, but it was nothing compared to the rushing of blood in his ears. Had you been anyone else, he might’ve been more annoyed, willing to toss you out to whatever was trying to get the two of you and run but..no.

It was you. It was you that truly made him afraid now. A seemingly endless amount of time to spend with the one person he felt such intense feelings for after Lucy..so much time to fudge it up.

This was going to be a long night.

Maxson:

The close proximity didn’t even register with him at first. Instead his mind was more preoccupied with firstly, devising a way to get out with the two of you wholly intact and secondly, pondering just where he went wrong...also just what the hell was taking the backup he requested so long.

However when he tried to back away from the closet door, only to bump right into you he visibly froze.

Oh by steel, this was hell.

He had been in plenty of predicaments like this one before, but never in any of said experiences had the person he was with has the ability to make his speechless nor cause an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach.

So...he’d remain rigid until finally the spinning barrel of a mini gun could be heard on the other side of the room’s barricaded steel door.

Nick:

He should’ve seen it coming. Thanks to him, the two of you were stuck, completely at the mercy of whatever higher power was watching over.

Since when did deathclaws inhabit old department stores??? It didn’t matter.

What mattered to him at this point was the soft lulling of you voice when you yawned through whatever witty remark you were going to shoot his way. If he had a true heart, it would’ve been hammering out of his chest at this point. As a matter of fact, it would’ve probably stopped altogether when you decided to take a long overdue nap- snuggled up in his trenchcoat.

What was he going to do with you?

Old Longfellow:

This wasn’t his first rodeo with this kind of predicament, so he wasn’t entirely bothered. An uncontrollable grin shaping his face as he watched you visibly pout, leaning up against the boarded up window as you eyed the only visible entry way- trying to block out the snarls of the feral ghoul hoards on the other side.

He couldn’t help but chuckle when you scoffed, rolling your eyes when the noises stopped.

Damn, you were cute.

Wait...what? Where did that come from?

Piper:

Luckily she had an ability to pretend nothing was wrong at all. It was one of the many perks of what her occupation and its experience does to a person. So, outwardly Piper would just snicker as she watched the Deathclaw outside frantically try to find where you ran off to- almost outwardly busting out laughing as the fearsome creature literally chased its own tail for a moment.

However on the inside she was practically jumping for joy. It was perhaps not the best way to get to spend some quality time with you but..eh, beggar’s can’t be choosers. She wouldn’t want anyone else to hide from death with anyways!

Preston:

It had crossed his mind to simply just jump out of the window a couple times. It wasn’t because you were just that insufferable, heavens, it was quite the opposite. He just couldn’t stand the way he couldn’t stop staring at your lips, the way he could hardly form a intelligible word and the way you just seemed to radiate beauty in a time where most would’ve been scared shitless.

How were you so unbothered? How did you manage to make him feel so out of control?

To make matters worse, the close proximity you shared only intensified the nervousness he felt. As though the thought of an angry mole rat pack eating him wasn’t enough...

He knew the reason, but..why?

Sturges:

This wasn’t exactly the first time this had happened to you and him..only this time was different in the sense that it was just you and him, the room was a whole hell of a lot smaller and finally, the first time..you didn’t make his heart flutter by just smiling at him.

Surprisingly he’d be pretty good at hiding his awkward internal feelings, instead choosing to focus on an escape plan.

However...this event did encourage him to finally find himself at your doorstep one night to confess the way he truly felt.

X6-88:

Life certainly has a way of surprising you, doesn’t it? X6 certainly thought so at this point. There was hardly ever a situation that he couldn’t shoot his way out of, even if there was, he would just relay the fuck out of there as soon as he could...and yet here he was. Stuck behind some old collapsed building while a behemoth aimlessly hunted the two of you down.

Although the structure was big, there was no telling how safe each room was so using better judgement, the two of you decided to stay in the one tiny interior room.

It was then that X6 really wished he could teleport at that time. He loved being in your company, he really did..but as of late? Well lately an unfamiliar, scary feeling took over his senses when you merely looked at him.

He was terrified. Now? He was absolutely horrified. There was no stopping the awkwardness he felt as he so desperately tried to look anywhere but those pretty eyes of your’s.

Wait, pretty? Oh no..what has taken ahold of him?

#fallout 4 #fo4 companions #paladin danse #fallout companions #fallout #elder maxson #porter gage #curie #cait #arthur maxson #deacon #hancock #macready #brotherhood of steel #nick valentine #piper wright #preston garvey #danse

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disgruntledspacedad · 3 years

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Better Love Notes

If you’re confused about location, timing, or characters in my Narcos AU series Better Love, this is the post for you.

Better Love is an AU reader insert series that begins midway through Narcos season two. Because it is AU, and because Narcos is complicated af anyway, I wanted to take some time to clarify what things in Better Love will be different than what you're used to seeing in the show.

Hannah “Ears” Aarons

First, I think it’s important to clarify that Ears is more of an OC written in second person than she is a generic reader insert. I might refer to her as “you,” but Ears has a name, a face claim, a backstory, and a huge personality. If that bothers you loads, I totally understand and you’re free to duck out at any point, but don’t come at me. If you have specific questions regarding Ears’ background, personality, physical appearance, family history, or whatever else, get with me privately. I would love to introduce you to my chaotic sunshine child.

Official Job Title: Ears is officially an employee of the CIA, but she is not an agent (read: spy). She was brought to Colombia to be a liaison between Centra Spike, the DEA, and the CIA. She introduces herself to Search Bloc by saying, "I'll be your ears," but in reality, she was put in place to be Bill Strechner’s ears. More on that later. She has a background with the US Army that's basically useless (desk job), a ton of training and zero practical experience with flyover recon and radiofrequency tracking, and she's itching to do something real with her life.

Timing

Ears arrives in Bogotá around August of 1992 and falls in bed with Peña pretty much immediately. Horacio Carillo did die recently, but Javi did not start working with Los Pepes and Don Berna until November of 1992. Assume all of the drama with Martinez Jr. and Los Pepes took place around the time that he and Ears were on the outs - that's just another factor that led Javi to make the emotional, rash decision to work with the cartels that he winds up regretting.

There is actually a one year span of time between season two, episode six and the end of the show. Pretty much the entirety of Better Love (for now) takes place during this year, so if it seems like I’m really stretching things out, that’s actually because the show mushed it all together. I promise, guys, I have done my research here.

Locations

The majority of scenes in Better Love will take place in Bogotá, the capital city of Colombia. It’s important to keep Bogotá separate from Medellín, which is where the nit and grit of the hunt for Escobar takes place.

Getting to Medellín from Bogotá requires a one hour flight or an eight hour drive (Colombia is roughly twice the size of Texas, fyi). For a gringo, driving around the cities was dangerous, but driving outside the cities was suicide. Javi and Steve might take planes, or they might take an armored chopper, depends on my mood when I'm writing. Assume there's a landing strip nearby the embassy, because I'm lazy like that.

The U.S. Embass(ies): Centra Spike, Search Bloc, and the DEA office are all housed in the old embassy building that's basically right across from the new one (the super upscale nice one that actually functions as an embassy).

There's a lot of confusion and shuffling around in the show, so I wanted to clarify what goes where (also, the real Murphy and Peña had offices in the old, unused embassy, so this is sort of legit). For simplicity's sake, I am assuming that CNP (Colombian National Police) headquarters are also in or nearby this building. Ears might refer to "headquarters," "the office," or "the embassy," and it's all the same place. Basically, everything is centrally located in Bogotá, and when I refer to “the DEA office,” or “Javi’s office,” picture it from season one - two desks that are not shoved on top of each other, with glass windows and real filing cabinets. The CIA is also located here, as is Strechner's office and the fabled White Room.

These buildings are in Bogotá, nearby Peña’s and Murphy's apartments. I will differentiate between the New, Swanky, Functional U.S. Embassy by capitalizing it and giving it its full title. If I say “embassy,” assume I’m talking about the older one where Javi and Ears are based.

The Carlos Holguin School: This is the base of Search Bloc operations in Medellín, and the primary location that we see in season two of the show. Think of it almost as a military base - training grounds, barracks, bare-bones, no a/c, shitty food. Javi and Steve often stay at "the school" overnight while conducting operations in Medellín. They might also refer to this as “camping” or “the camp,” or “base.” It sucks balls. This is where Javi and Steve have their messy, shoved on top of each other desks that we tend to associate with the show. Javi and Steve still work from here just as often as we see in canon, there just won’t be as many scenes in this location because Ears is never there.

Javi’s apartment: Javi and Steve primarily live in Bogotá. This is the same apartment building that you see in season one, with the big steps in front of the building and then an even larger set of stairs inside. There is also a big set of stairs on the back end of the building that leads to an underground parking garage (we see this in the season one finale, where Steve gets snatched by Navegante). This building is a five minute walk to the U.S. Embassy, but Javi and Steve mostly chose to drive for safety and convenience. It’s in a pretty decent part of Bogotá. There is one small canon deviation in regards to the apartments: in Better Love, Javi lives upstairs, across from Steve’s front door instead of below him like we see in the show. They share a large front landing. I just really liked the idea of Javi having a view of the city from his bedroom window.

Ears’ apartment: Ears lives in a tiny little flat on top of a drug store, a place that she found on her own through the friend of a work friend. It’s also in a decent part of Bogotá, but not quite as safe or upscale as Javi’s. It’s about a ten minute hike from the embassy and fifteen minutes from Javi’s place.

Miscellaneous

CIA/DEA Collaboration: The relationship between the CIA and the DEA in Colombia was not pretty. The show makes it look like a personal conflict between Strechner and Peña, but in reality, it was so much deeper than that. These two organizations have opposing goals, and communication and sharing of information was a real problem. Basically, they squabble more than they collaborate, and there was a lot of backstabbing, underhanded fuckery, and generally getting in each other's way. Naturally, this is going to create tension between Ears and Javi.

Bill Stechner: The show makes it clear that Bill doesn’t give a shit about Escobar or the cartels except in regards to the power dynamics they create, but let me reiterate here - his primary goal in Colombia is to keep it from becoming a communist state. That’s all he wants.

OC Sicarios: Don't get Velasco (canon sicario) mixed up with Verdugo (my OC sicario). They are different characters. Verdugo is the guy who features in The Rules of Engagement.

Feo is another sicario who is an OC. More updates on him later.

Canon Deviations in Better Love

Series spoilers from this point on. I’m going to take it fic by fic, so if you haven’t read something and don’t want to be spoiled, stop at the bold print. Again, Better Love is super fucking plotty, so I thought it was only fair to give you guys a reference sheet. Lord knows I need one, too.

The Rules of Engagement: Introduces Ears. Horacio Carillo did die recently, but Javi’s role in his death is undetermined/not mentioned. Javi does start working with Los Pepes during Rules, but only after he and Ears have their fallout. All of the bullshit with Martinez Jr. and the Castaño brothers takes place during the time that Javi and Ears aren’t speaking.

Aftershocks: Establishes with certainty that Javi is working with the cartels. His primary contact with Los Pepes is Don Berna. This is going to be critical later. Also establishes that Don Berna has more connection to the Cali cartel than he does in canon.

Yours: Establishes that Connie Murphy is a badass biker bitch with a heart of gold, because I think the show did her dirty. She loves Steve and Steve loves her. Ears and Stechner get to know each other a little better, and Javi doesn’t like this one bit. Ears starts thinking about a leak in Search Bloc, and how dangerous that might be for Javi.

Bang: Javier Peña gives Ears a shady ass, probably trafficked gun for her protection. We don’t know details of where he got it. Solidifies the bro/sis relationship between Steve and Ears. Implies heavily that Javi is doing some shady things with some shady folks. A light introduction to the theme of weapons trafficking in Colombia, which was a massive problem that is barely even mentioned in the show. It will feature heavily in Better Love.

The Shoebox: Introduces the character of Arturo, Ana Delgado’s shady older brother. Ears starts wondering if Ana knows more than she should. Confirms that the Fernando Duque arc does take place in Better Love, and that Javi is genuinely torn up by it like he is in canon. This leads Ears to start thinking more deeply about that leak in Search Bloc, and she begins to actively collect evidence with the intention of sniffing out the rat and keeping Javi safe. Mentions sex trafficking, a major problem in Colombia at the time, and also a minor theme later on in Better Love.

Shit Hits the Fan: Establishes that Arturo Delgado is actually a hitman working with Los Pepes, and that he and Javi have gone on some raids together. Javi is desperate to keep this a secret from Ears, who is friends with Ana, both for her protection and because he’s kind of ashamed of how deep he’s in with Los Pepes. Establishes that in the wake of the Ferando Duque debacle, the Castaño brothers did not reach out to Stechner for help, but instead decided to put a hit out on Javi to either kill or scare him off. Javi is no longer working with Los Pepes, but he never did find out that Stechner was the one who set him up in the first place.

The White Room: Bill Stechner reveals to Ears that her purpose in Colombia is to be his own personal spy on the DEA. He is investigating a mysterious sicario named Feo in relation to a massive russian weapons ring. Bill wants Ears to report everything that the DEA learns about Feo because he suspects that Feo might have connections with FARC, a communist guerrilla group that is Stechner’s public enemy number one. Ears realizes that she’s in deep shit, and also realizes the depth of the resentment between the DEA and the CIA, and how much their goals in Colombia actually oppose. Stechner is revealed to be a real bag of dicks here.

Closing notes

Whew, okay. I will update this post periodically if more information becomes necessary or if you guys have questions, and I’ll reblog it if I do. I’m going to go ahead and tag my taglist folks in this, just because it’s a huge information dump. Of course, you probably don't need to know these things to get the gist of what’s going on in Better Love, but if you’re a chronic overanalyzer like me, it might be helpful.

Also, let me know if you guys want a list of the characters who are major players in the series. I know I had to make one for myself but I wasn’t sure if posting it would be overkill (this is probably already overkill, tbh).

Tags: @jedi-mando, @aerolanya, @pikemoreno, @bitchin-beskar, @mostly-megan, @huliabitch, @starsandmando, @starlight-starwrites, @thirstworldproblemss, @knittingqueen13, @yespolkadotkitty

Javier Peña tags: @magpie-to-the-morning, @tiffdawg, @danniburgh, @1800-fight-me

Mad love to you guys if you’ve stuck around for this long.

#Javier Peña #Javier Peña x reader #Narcos #pedro pascal #Narcos fanfiction #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña fanfiction #Better Love #the rules of engagement #better love notes

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undercoverwizardninjaturtle · 4 years

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ROTTMNT Fanfiction: Frayed Part 1

Description: Sequel to Shattered Donnie has his difficulties, but he’s always had his family to depend on. That was before Draxum came into the picture

Pairings: LESS THEN NONE

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Characters: Donnie, Leo, Draxum, Mikey and Raph

Genre: Hurt/Comfort , Angst, Family

Rating: G

As much as Leo liked to think he was a wordsmith, a artisan of words, sometimes there was only one was to describe a situation. And this particular situation only needed one word to describe it

His hands came up, trying to pry the vine that had been at his throat. A pair of hands shook at his shoulders, hard enough for him to finally cough loudly gasping for air, a hand rubbed at his shell through his black gi, “Are you ok?!” Asked a frantic voice

Though his body was telling him otherwise he nodded finally opening his eyes, Don was looking down on him with a concerned look, with the black gi and red mask. Glancing around Leo was grateful that Draxum had thought to put Raph and Mikey were with him but while Raph was sitting up but his head resting to the side told him that he wasn’t awake, it took him a bit to realize that the biggest brother was cradling a unconscious Mikey in his arms he was about to ask if the youngest was awake , but his throat constricted again causing him to cough loudly. Don wrapped arm around his shoulders, “Leo take a deep breath, “Leo struggled to comply grateful for the oxygen stinging his throat

“Pathetic.”

Leo had almost forgotten about the metal cage. He had remembered Draxum had ambushed them at the Dark Armor, trapping them in vines. He remembered one of them finding its way around his neck, barely giving his airway for the oxygen he so desperately needed. Donnie glared up at the villain responsible for their state “Where’s April?!” He demanded

“Your human friend is fine, I sent her back to your “ Draxum gave a disgusted shiver and eye roll, “rat. Hopefully it will give him the motivation to bring me the last piece of the dark armor. If not.” Gave a lazy twirl of his wrist, “I guess I will do with you as I see fit.”

Leo knew Draxum was trying to scare them. He opened his mouth make a quip before he coughed again, he rubbed at his throat, desperate to relieve the pain. Don gave him a concerned look, glancing to the ret of their brothers before standing up, “Draxum, given me Leo’s medkit.”

Draxum turned to look at them, “You dare make demands of me!?”

“The small white box Leo had on him, I need it to help my brothers.”Donnie gripped the bars of the cage, “My brothers might have internal bleeding you overgrown Capra Aegagrus Hircus. If you have any sort of heart in you you’ll let me help them”

Leo wasn’t sure what that meant but Draxum turned to look at him fully. There was so meting in his eyes, as though looking at Donnie for the first time. Before anyone could move, a vine shot out and grabbed him around the chest, shoving him hard against the back bars of the cage. Causing the metal bards to dig into his soft leathery shell, his teeth gritted in pain. Leo jumped and grabbed at the vine, trying to pull it off of him, “st-“ Draxum’s eyes bore on Donatello, as though studying his pain with a scientific eye. Without looking away a vine knocked Leo off of the first vine causing him to land on Raphael. His older brother waking with a start. “I thought so, you’re the soft shell.” With another twitch, Donnie was pulled forward pulling him to the front of the cage with the same force as he had before. Despite having only been somewhat awake for a few seconds, Raph let out a low growl, “Let. Him go you-“he had started to move to his knees but lightheadedness must of taken over again, causing Raph to almost fall on his side. Leo supported him the best he could as Raph struggled for air. Watching helplessly as Draxum’s fingers caught Donnie around the jawline, forcing their eyes to meet, “I can still see you have that sensitive shell.”his fingers nails digging into this skin, “After Lou Jitsu interfered with my experiment, I thought all my work as for nothing. Except your so called brothers’ turned out fine, if younger then I needed.” Draxum’s eyes narrowed, “Not you, you trembled you shrieked if anything touched your. Of all your brothers. I considered you to be the only failure. Your ‘Splinter’ denied it, but I Knew something was wrong with you. I should of throw you away with the trash when I had a chance.” At this point Draxum’s face was nearly a millimeter from his brothers, “ Trust me when I say I wont make that mistake twice” With a flourish, Donnie was thrown back into the cage, bouncing off Raph’s outstretched arm, how had tried to keep him from landing too hard.’ Leo moved close, “D-nee.” He croaked out, he tired to touch his brothers shell to check for any bruising, but Donnie flinched from his touch “I’m fine.”

“Dee-“

“I said I’m fine.” His voice held al the bitterment of his usual personality, but his eyes held a shimmer of tears, before turning to him, “maybe I can help without the medkit.”

He knew Donnie wasn’t alright, but he did the best he could helping Leo and Mikey. Before going off sitting by himself. Raph had tried to talk to him, but Leo had given him a shake of his head . Eventually they would escape, and destroy the dark armor.

But he would never forget what Draxum had said

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

“”MONOPOLY!!” Leo shrieked with glee as Mikey landed on one of his properties, “Pay up!!!” He said, leaning over the board and holding his hand out to his youngest brother, who was holding his last few hundred play dollars to his chest like it was his last child

“B-B-but, “ Mikey looked at his last few hundred play dollars as though they were his children, “But I’m your favorite brother.”

“All’s fair in love and war Mikearino.” Leo , with some difficulty, peeled the money from his hands, leaving him with a single dollar. Almost collectively the entire group groaned. Draxum had his doubts when Michelangelo had recommended a weekly ritual known as ‘Game Night’ to be held in his place of residence atleast one day a week (having it at the Turtles home was out of the question according to Master Splinter). He hadn’t been sure of hosting the vent at first. But during that first night of Games, as Draxum watched the red slider turtle dominate game after game, (always with a victory cheer of the games title) he could say one thing

This was the biggest mistake of his life

He drug his hand down his face the table giving a small tremble as Leonardo climbed on top of it, dong some sort of dance he had seen on the World Wide Web with a giant grin, “DOWN turtle, I just procured this table from the IKEA.”

Leonardo puffed his face at him before blowing out air , “What ever.” He jumped down from the table with a flourish. Taking up the dice again, “Now, whose turn is it to weep at my glory and join Raphael in bankruptcy jail?”

Draxum frowned, looking back at his fake money, he had fallen on Leonardo’s property enough times to have only a few hundreds left and no desire to be victim to theoretical bankruptcy. Thankfully it was not his turn, his fell on the purple turtle who was studying the board with analytical eyes. Ignoring Raphael rolling out his turn and wailing as Leo began to wrestle him for his money. The purple turtle hadn’t been playing as well as Leonardo, but judging by the few properties he had purchased he had a strategy in mind. Donatello caught him looking in his direction and frowned slightly before looking back to the board

Draxum stood up, “I will return with snacks,” he announced, though the group was largely distracted by Raphael weeping over his loss of his money. He was unsure how the turtles had so much energy this late at night. But it was almost admirable. He opened the freezer and drew out a ice tray, twisting the frame and popping out the ice cubes and pouring them into a bowl.

“Um, Draxie? What are those?” Mikey asked, looking around him with a confused look on his face

“Last we spoke you mentioned a desert called iced cream, well I have painstakingly made my own iced cream.” He looked to the smallest turtle, waiting to be showered in his praise only for Mikey to look at the white cubes in the bowls , ‘Um dude, did you just put milk in ice trays?”

“And sugar. Is that not ice cream?” Sure he had taken some liberties, but he was sure this would be indistinguishable from the real thing, but before he could rectify the situation, Mikey leaned over, squishing his face against his arm, “Its ok Beary you’re trying!! Buuut do you have anything else we can snack on? Other then what you set out?” With a expression Draxum can only describe as dread, he looked back over to the table and snack bowl Draxum had set up earlier. He wasn’t sure why no on had touched it, the bag he had poured it from has seemed Fine. IT had a dog on the cover, it was apparently made for ‘large’ animals, and it had been rather cheap. Not to mention it was supposed to be great for fur (of which he had none of but he figured it was a side affect)

Draxum huffed before going through his designated ‘snack cabinet’ mostly full of ‘ray-men’ packs and granola bars’, “Does anyone here enjoy gravy flavored granola cards?” Judging by the looks of disgust on the turtles face, they didn’t He let out a low growl before returning o his cabinet, “I will find something to feed you with. In the mean time satisfy yourselves with my soft drinks. Michelangelo you may play in my place.”

At the chance to play agin, Mikey let out a squeal of delight, giving him a quick squeeze before loading his arms full of his soda and hurrying back to the table. Draxum, failing to find any non granola snack growled under his breath and moved back to the table just as a tiny plastic house smacked Donnie in the forehead, “Leonardo do not make a mess.”Draxum commanded

“Its not my fault Don’s forehead is a easy target.” Leo grinned before another plastic house hit him in the eye, causing him to yelp , grabbing at his face “how DARE you! You could of scratched my perfect face!”

“I mean, with a face like that you cant’ really ruin it more can you.” Donnie said For the first time all night Donnie has a smirk Draxum has seen him have many times. Leo grins back and before Draxum realized what was about to happen. Each of the turtles has a arm full of Monopoly houses and are chucking them at each other, dashing around the room with loud shouts of laughter. Draxum allows himself a breath, to calm his nerves, before he hair flies on end, his vine shot out of his wall, catching Leonardo by the ankle and yanking up causing him to yelp loudly and drop all his artillery , “DO NOT SHOWER MY HOUSE WITH TINY PLASTIC HOUSES!’ He demanded to the turtles frozen in mid throw

“Technically it’s a Apartment. Not a house.”Leo said crossing his arms over his chest unfazed by his predicament.

Draxum gave him a glare, “You four, clean this up. Or you can’t have any Scandinavian Soda.”

“Doesn’t sound like much of a punishment to to me.” Leo mumbled. Draxum lets out a growl before releasing Leo’s ankle. With a shriek Leo landed upside down before wiggling around to a position on his knees, still grumbling. His brothers joining him.

The Warring Alchemist has noticed a few things about these turtles that he hadn’t when they were enemies, namely now that he wasn’t threatening to torture them they didn’t seem to fear him as much and that came out in different ways. Mikey had accepted him a friend and a reluctant family member. Mostly unwilling on his part, but the box turtle had been hard to refuse with as eager as he was. Raphael seemed to respect hm to a extent, a friendly attitude but atleast he was willing to give him a chance.

That left the two problem turtles

Leonardo had a more flippant attitude with him. At first he had taken it the same as he had taken Mikeys’ laxness around him, that he had accepted him. But that didn’t feel right. He couldn’t put his finger on it, he wasn’t aggressive, or anymore of a (what was the word?) Nick Head. The purple one was also hard for him to read.

But of course, that was probably how he wanted it

Speaking of purple , Leonardo had started searching by him, going out of his way to bump shoulders with a laugh, “bet I’ll find more then you!” Leo challenged before crawling off at a higher speed. Don grinned after him, “In your dreams Lamenardo!” With that he looks around, unable to find more he shifts under the table. Draxum can only pinch the bridge between his eyes when he realizes, rather then take this as a punishment, they are treating it like a childish game.

Leo suddenly shot up to a standing position, “I WIN!” He said holding up a handful of Monopoly houses

There’s a squawk of despair but before more dreaded hijinks there was a loud banging sound as something hit the table from underneath with a cursed shout. Leonardo’s demeanor changed In a split second, “Dee? You ok?” When he didn’t get a answer, he ducked down to check under the table. Draxum rolled his eyes before returning to his search. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the two emerge from under the table, Donatello was holding his shoulder with a pained look on his face , “how hard did you hit your shell?” Leo asked, Draxum almost couldn’t believe this was the same turtle who he had seen steal the same purple turtles phone and threaten to drop it in the toilet if the purple turtle didn’t admit Leonardo was his favorite Blue turtle

Which he had

Twelve times

That night

The normally self assured turtle gave a tremble, “its fine.” He said between his teeth

Leonardo’s brow furrowed in concern, for someone who had only ever seen the red slider turtle with a annoying sneer or laugh it should seem out of place. But its almost as though it was his nature to be concerned as it was for him to be witch (No that wasn’t the word, bitch? Bitch was the word?) “Do you want me to look at your shell?”

“Please.” Draxum rolled his eyes, “his shell is meant to protect his inferior body, if he can’t handle bumping it then he might as well not have one.” The room becomes silent in a way that even he notices. He looks back into the room, Raph is giving him a somewhat disappointed expression that he doesn’t understand and even Mikey looks unhappy with him. Donatello doesn’t even look in his direction, but actively avoiding looking at him. Leonardo however, is glaring at him. Again, his entire nature seems to change in a split second with dagger sin his eyes.

It reminds Draxum of a few weeks ago Draxum had been walking home with groceries when he had seen a pair of stray dogs in a alley. One of them had been panting heavily but asleep while the other was laying down in front of it, looking around without a concern in the world with a flapping tail. . Draxum had taken out some meat he had bought to give it to them, but the carefree dog had immediately gotten up growling at him. It took a while later for him to understand that the sleeping dog had probably been sick and the other one was staying nearby to protect it incase it needed help.

Sarcastic, Concerned, and now Protective

He wondered which one fo these was the true Leonardo.

In response to the change in atmosphere he rolled his eyes with a groan, “I am informed that I do not have any appropriate snacks, and that my iced cream is insufficient. I will leave to procure the snacks required to continue our game night. DO not set anything on fire while I am gone.” He said before grabbing his large trench coat, and stepping out of the door.

He could not bear to be in the prescience of such weakness.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

If Leo was being honest, he hadn’t been too enthusiastic when Mikey had recommended a game night at Draxum’s. He had tried to offhandedly comment on his concerns, but Mikeys’ eyes had immediately filled with tears looking to him as though he was the one thing standing between him and his dreams.

For someone who hated being called the baby fo the family, Mikey really did know how to use it for his advantage.

But now, glaring after the former Goat Baron he wondered if he should of protested more. Instead he turned his attention to Don, who was still hugging himself , “Are you sure you don’t want me to look at your shell?” He had already moved to touch is brothers shoulder but Donnie had pulled away half heartedly, pulling his hoodie tighter around himself, “I said i’m fine.”

“A-“ Mikey didn’t look like he knew what to do, except look anxious,” He didn’t mean that, ok? He’s just adjusting and he doesn’t realize everything he’s saying”

“Sure seemed like he did.” Leo huffed, he looked over to Raph to vent his reaction. He could tell Raph was disappointed in Draxum, but judging by their eye contact, he was gauging his and Don’s reaction to see how angry he should get.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault that Don’s shell was so sensitive, it had been a problem when they were kids, but as they had gotten older it had become easier for Don to handle slight touches. And nowadays he didn’t have a problem with people touching his shell, and thanks to the Battle Shell his shell was tougher if not more so than his brothers. But he still couldn’t handle someone bumping into it or hitting it on stuff without something to protect it.

Leo had known Don had been stressed about coming here, but seeing his brother sitting on the couch, barely containing his soft trembles. He looked to Mikey, “Hey I’m getting bored, I’m goin to bounce and do something fun,”

Mikey opened his mouth to complain, but then Leo glanced at Donnie then back at him. Luckily the orange turtle seemed to understand, “ok, will you atleast come back again next week? I’ll make sure Draxum has good snacks. And I’ll talk to him about what he said.”

“Ok good, cause I’m pretty sure his Chex mix is just dog food.” Leo took his leathery jacket from the coat rack before looking back, ‘Dee? Wanna come with?”

His brother looked at him with a look that clearly said, ‘ you’re not fooling anyone’ but sighed “yeah no problem.” Donnie took his purple Sherpa lined jacket over his hoodie both saying their goodbyes before leaving out fo the apartment building. It was weird to be there without seeing April, but she had mentioned she had a art project coming up and that she didn’t have time to hang out this week.

A lot of things had changed since Draxum had come into their lives

“Ok let me have it.”

“Huh?” Leo looked up in time to duck around a ice over light pole, Don looked up from his phone with a unamused look, “You want to vent. I can tell. Talk to me Lee.”

“I-“ he almost denied how he felt, but there was no point , “I don’t’ get why we have to hang out with that Man Bunned Butt Man, are we seriously supposed to act like he never tried to kill us?”

“Like the time he threw you off the roof?”

Leo threw his hands in the air, “LIKE THE TIME HE ME OFF A ROOF!” That was never going to be ok. Not to mention what had happened when they were captured ,he gave his brother guilty look, “I know you didn’t want to talk about it but are you sure you don’t want to to tell Mikey about what Draxum told you? Maybe if he knew want Draxum said to you-‘ before he could finish his sentence Donnie poked him hard in the face, causing Leo to yelp and rub his cheeks, “RUDE.”

Don , sighed before looking away from his phone, “I’m not ok with what he said to me that night. Or what he said to me tonight. I don’t even particularly like the idea of spending time with him, but if he’s willing to try to be a better guy then I’m willing to put up with it for.” Don looked back to his phone, “Unless he pisses me off too much in which case I drop him off with the Hidden City Police faster then I use the Fibonacci sequence. And you promised you would’ tell Mikey.”

That was true, and he had been warned that if he had revealed what Draxum said, Donnie was going to release a video online called “Leo’s broadway audition 2019” which was a threat he was not taking lightly. Even so he looked to his favorite purple turtle and sighed, “I wont,” before opening his arms with a whimpering question in his eyes.

Don glanced at him in confusion for a moment before smiling and rolling his eyes, “Yes you can hug me.”

“Yayzzz.” He said before throwing his arms around Donnie ,careful of his shell and hugged him tightly. He had no problem letting go if Don became uncomfortable but when Donnie rested his cheek on his shoulder, he knew there wouldn’t be a problem. Other then then Ignoring the passing people on the street. As cold as it was Leo was surprised that anyone was out other then them. Speaking of cold, “Hey man, we’re getting close to our favorite Bodegaaaa and I’m feeling snackish. I heard they just got in Extra Spicy Komodo Dragon Pepper Chips. I wanna buy some peanut butter ice cream and sprinkle it on top.”

“Oh no Leo no,” Donnie groaned in despair, “I’m begging you, no. I can’t handle another night of you taking baths full of milk because you think you’re ‘metal-“

“Too late we’re doing it!” Leo ducked behind him and guided Donnie forward by the shoulders . what else was better to eat on a cold day anyway then hot spicy chips?! Blatantly ignoring his brothers whines he guided Donnie around to their favorite Bodega that hey had been visiting (tormenting ) since they were old enough to go to the surface on their own. But the minute They get closer to the door, Leo could already hear the loud music blaring on the speakers inside he was about to change his mind when Don stepped out of his grasp, “Ok I think I’m going to sit this one out . I’ll wait out here, Just be sure to bring back a gallon of sugar free vanilla ice cream for me.”

“No prob Dee.” Leo said with a happy salute before hopping side to begin his quest for overly spicy chips that he claimed he could handle but obviously couldn’t. Don let out a full smile , shaking his head at his brothers antics. Leave it to Leo to cheer him up and finally get the shaking to leave his hands. But that was Leos’ best skill in Don’s opinion. He leaned his shell against the building and took out his phone agin.

A loud scoff filled his ears, at first Donnie thinks that Leo is playing a victim card again, but when he looks up all he see is Draxum on the sidewalk, carrying two grocery bags that seemed to be filled with various ice creams, “Let me guess, you’re too sensitive to handle a little store so your brother went in instead of you?”

Donnie made sure to roll his eyes, “NO he wanted some snacks so I’m waiting for him out here.”

“you’re not stupid ,you know he coddles you. Treats you like you’re inferior because he feels sorry for you.”

“Uh Huh.” Donnie pulled his phone back out, “remind me to show you how to use the internet. It’s the best place to share opinions no one cares about.” He’s almost satisfied at Draxum’s low growl, the former villain steps closer. Donnie doesn’t look to him but his free hand is under the lower lip of his shell, fingering his multi-tool bo staff

“The sooner you realize you were born wrong, the sooner you can stop being a burden to them.” With that Draxum steps away, walking back the way he came to continue a game night with the two remaining brothers. Don waits till Draxum’s out of ear shot before he takes a shake breath and stuffs his hands in his pocket.

Unlike last time he knows that there’s nothing that will stop his hands from shaking

Windows

Shattered Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (Bonus)

Frayed Part 2

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt fanfiction #donnie #autistic donnie #leo #baron draxum #what a dick #fanfiction #hurt/comfort #angst #undercoverwizardninjaturtle #frayed #tmnt fanfiction

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dandyxrandy · 3 years

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I love your writing! If requests are still open I would die for a touch starved Din x reader where reader has a hand kink 😩. When Din removes his gloves the reader traces his veins with her tongue 👅 . Can lead to smut if you want! Thank you! 🥰

Golden, I am SO sorry this took so long! I worked this past weekend so I wrote a lot in between hours. Hopefully its worth the wait! (I honestly didn’t think it was going to end up this long...) Pairing: Din x Reader Rating: Excplicit Length: 3.8k Warnings: First-Time Din, Touch Starved Din, Slight Hand Kink, Cuddling, No ACTUAL sex, Fingering (MtoF) Summary: It took a splinter to finally see Din’s hands. It Took A Splinter It was small things at first, you noticed, and only when it was you two in the Razor Crest. It was first the removal of his cape, hung off the back of his pilot chair during long stretches of time in hyperdrive. His boots came next, staying off after a shower and only going back on when he needed to leave the Crest. Soon his armor stayed in his quarters all together and he walked around the hull in his black under clothes. His helmet and gloves always stayed on, though, still hiding all of his integrity and making him out to be nothing more than a shape of a human. It both infuriated and intrigued you, but overall you were happy that he felt comfortable enough to shed the armor and walk freely around his ship. You were hired on as a temporary caretaker of sorts to watch Grogu while Din made his rounds through bounty pucks and the placement paid well enough that you continued your occupation well past the terms that were set. It didn’t help that the man was of good company either, even if he was more times grumpy than not and The Child had wormed his way into your heart as well. You dared say it was almost family like - the three of you. It was why you took extra care of both the little womp rat and Din, making sure their clothes were well washed, food was made, and the ship was stocked with the necessities. It was your job and you did it well, something you took extreme pride in. It was a big step up from the ‘bar-maid that you once were’ and had much more security as well. It was why falling in a deep fondness for Din was such a bad idea. Getting attached to a job was never a good thought, yet here you were, spending more and more time lingering next to Din while he did mundane tasks like clean his gun or rewire his ship. Just being next to him made you at ease. Then there was the fact that you loved watching his hands work along any piece of machinery or metal. What did he look like under it all, you wondered. Was he green like the kid? Maybe pale like an albino? Many nights you spent with your hand beneath the waistband of your pants, imagining what his fingers would feel like against your skin, against your lips and teeth and between your legs.

“Dank farrik!” Din had cursed, causing you to peek your head around into the cockpit from the adjacent hall where you were busy counting out food rations. Din had been sitting in his chair for the past half hour, hunched over something. You couldn’t quite tell from your angle what that something was, so you set aside the crate you were rummaging through and came in, wiping your hands down your soft pants. “You okay?” you ask as you round his chair and immediately you freeze. It looked like Din was trying to remove something from his hand - a hand that was very much bare and not in a glove. In fact, neither of his hands were hidden behind the thick leather and the sight before you was scarred and worn skin. It was a tawny beige color that stretched over thick fingers and with every flex of his hand you could see the shift of tendons and veins beneath. It was such a beautiful sight. Din looked up to you, the ‘T’ of his visor turning as he gestured briefly in his frustration. “I have a sliver that I cannot get removed.” He turned his wrist to you to show the irritated red skin that was slightly inflamed in the meat of his hand, just below the thumb. It was in an awkward spot on his dominant hand and you could tell why he was having such a hard time. “It has been there for three days.” “Do you want me to give it a go?” you sheepishly offer him, extending your hand out for the tweezers he was using to try and pry the sliver out with. It would be the first time you touched him on purpose and you’re almost positive he knows this too, but after a moment of deliberation he lets out a sigh and hands over the tweezers. “If you can’t get it out, I’m chopping it off.” You snort at how dramatic he is and move to try to find an angle that works enough for you to work on him. Not finding one you end up dragging one of the ration crates over for you to sit on in front of him, his chair swiveling to the side to give more room. You offer out your open palm to him and he gives his hand over, gently letting it rest in yours. You swear you can hear your heartbeat against your chest with how nervous you are. His skin is dry and rough beneath your touch, but it was also warm and human. “How did you manage this?” you ask in attempt to distract yourself as you begin to work at the edges of skin surrounding the sliver. It was deep and no amount of bending his thumb or squeezing the surrounding flesh was making it budge. “I got stuck when I brought in the crates. Stray piece of wood that I didn’t see. Went through the glove.” He was curt in his answer and you briefly looked up to see him watching you intently. You move the wrong way and the end of the tweezers plucks a raw bit of skin and Din swears, his other hand coming to curl around your knee in a heavy grip. “Sorry!” you apologize, flinching away but the hand on your knee slips up to your lower thigh, holding you from moving to far away. “Don’t. Just...get it out.” Din doesn’t remove his hand, though he does relax his grip a little. You work on him for another few minutes, trying not to have a complete mental break at the fact that Din was touching you, and failing miserably. You felt sweaty and you kept having to refocus on your task because your mind continued to stray to the way Din was letting his thumb trace along the seam of your pants, probably to comfort himself as you dug away the sensitive skin. “Alright this just isn’t working, but I have an idea.” you said as you set the tweezers aside. “You’re going to have to trust me on this. I had a friend growing up that swore by this method, okay?” Din nodded and watched as you brought his hand up to your mouth, lips wrapping around the base of his thumb to create a seal. You sucked in as you dug your bottom teeth into the flesh of his hand and scraped up with them. Pulling away to look, you saw that the sliver moved up a little and couldn’t help but beam up at him. “I almost got it!” Din’s hand stilled on your thigh as you brought his hand back to your mouth and repeated what you did before and you felt the tiny piece of wood almost instantly push out and stick to your tongue. You grinned as you let go of him and licked the wood onto your hand, showing him the little piece. “Got it!” In your triumph you almost missed the cant of the helmet towards you and the way Din shifted, his legs spreading a little wider as he leaned in to cup your cheek. He took hold of your jaw, his thumb brushing along the soft skin there as his other hand slid from your thigh, up to your hip. “Thank you.” The voice coder made his breaths sound heavy.. You stilled under his touch, eyes dropping as your cheeks heated and you saw his cock hard between his legs. Oh. Your eyes snap back up to the visor as Din moves his thumb across your lower lip and you part them, your tongue easing out to press against the pad of his finger. Din’s grip tightens on your hip as he pushes his thumb further in and you meet it with a gentle press of your tongue. He hisses as you move, dragging your mouth from his thumb to the crook where his pointer finger met the curve of his hand and you kiss there, then his palm. You take his hand gently by the wrist and turn it over to kiss the tendons and the dark veins beneath his skin, your tongue tracing along each strand. Din practically whines beneath the touches and you want to do more to praise the skin that he showed you - that he let you taste. “It’s been so long since I’ve touched someone…” he admits in a low whisper. “How long?” You don’t stop the gentle worship of his hand, your lips ghosting over every crease and fold of him, mapping out every little scar and break of skin. These hands have seen so much, taken many lives, and here they were gentle and soft and open for you. “Since...I was a child.” Your heart drops because that was not what you had expected. He hadn’t touched anyone for his entire adult life? You didn’t think something like that was even possible but you also didn’t know much about the Mandalorian Creed, either. Were they celibate until marriage, if they even married? You knew Din had touched others in a more violent sense, what with the nature of his profession but you knew what he meant in his admission. It’s been so long since I’ve touched someone, skin to skin. You take his hand and guide it down your neck, letting his fingers flex briefly around your throat before you take it lower across your collarbone and down your chest to graze over the mound of your breast. You leave it there and let him linger and explore in his own time. “It’s okay, Din - “ you squeeze his hand below yours, making him feel your soft flesh in reassurance. “You can touch me.”It was almost as if you undid a leash on him with your permission. He was quick with you and in the next moment he had you hauled into his lap, legs straddling his hips as he all but tore your shirt off, tossing it to the side of the chair. You let out an indignant squawk at his rough handling and you felt embarrassment under the sudden exposure. You moved to cover yourself but Din;s fingers wrapped around your wrists to keep your hands lowered at your sides. “Please, let me…” he trailed off as he lifted his hands slowly and you noticed they had a slight tremble to them. Long fingers touched just beneath your jaw and trailed down your neck again, the tips warm and teasing. You could feel the hard line of his erection against your thigh and you knew that his touches weren’t all in innocent exploration. His fingers traced over your collarbones again, twin images in their movements, and they dropped lower across the plane of your chest above your breasts. He smoothed his palms down and over, flush against you before they moved low, each hand taking a breast and weighing them in his cupped palms. The tips of his nails scrape over your nipples and you both watch as the skin puckers beneath the touch. He does it again and tweaks the nub at the end and it makes you gasp, your hands slipping lower to grip Din’s legs. You wanted to touch him like he was touching you but you didn’t want to risk breaking the moment. So many times have you imagined this, imagined him touching you and it took a damned sliver in his hand to get you here. “You’re so soft.” Din turns a hand over and lets his knuckles skim along the dip of your waist and the curve of your hip before stroking lightly across your belly, then back again. It was as if he couldn’t get enough of touching you. His fingers linger a bit longer when they dip along the hem of your pants and they slip beneath for a moment before surfacing again. A war waged in his mind and you hoped that the outcome would end up with your pants on the floor. Din heaved a heavy sigh as his hands slid along your sides and up your back to the base of your skull where he threaded his fingers into your hair. You rocked closer, pressing into his chest as you leaned against him, chin resting on his shoulder. He was content to play with your hair there, his fingers rubbing along your head. You felt like there wasn’t a part of you that he hadn’t touched, above the band of your pants, and yet there was so little of him that you had yourself. “Din, I want to touch you.” you paused, moving in his lap a little, hips shifting against his thigh in a slow grind, a small mischievous ploy to help get what you wanted. “Please?” He hummed low in his chest but he didn’t make a move beyond a slight flex of his hands that were now on your shoulders, palms curving across the bend of bone and muscle. You arched into him again, your hips pressing more firmly against his own and your cunt dragged across his length again. Maker, you were wet just from him touching you like this. “Din -” you began again but stopped when you heard the sound of a wrapper crinkle. You perked up and looked over Din’s shoulder and saw the very tip of one green ear in the next room over. “Fuck, Din,” You scramble a little at seeing Grogu not ten feet away, and while he was preoccupied with scarfing down ration bars, you didn’t want to chance him seeing you topless on top of his Dad. “The kid.” You get your shirt back on after getting to your feet and you watch Din adjust himself in his pants as he swivels the chair back around to face the control panel. Grogu looked over from the ration crate he had been plundering and cooed with happiness at finally being given attention. You ran a hand through your hair, composing yourself. “I’ll get him back to bed,” you say shakily. “He was probably just looking for a snack.” Which he obviously found. You go to pick the kid up but Din stops you by catching your hand. “Thank you for...that.” The last word was almost a mumble, as if he was unsure how to explain what just happened between the two of you. You gave his hand a small squeeze. “I would like to do it again, sometime. Maybe after I get the kid to bed?” It was a bold offer and you toed your luck with giving it up but after Din practically melding his hands into your skin, you thought you didn’t have much more to lose. Din squeezed your hand in return, though. “I would like that.” ___ It took about an hour to get Grogu back to sleep after he had finished his snack of three ration bars and a concentrated juice pack. The endless stomach of the kid never ceased to amaze you, even after you’ve seen him eat about a dozen frogs on the last planet that you all had been on. When Din came to find you later, you had the kid in your arms, and were edging close to the land of sleep as well. You gave a somnolent smile and pressed a finger to your lips to ‘hush’ Din, even though he had appeared in the doorway without a sound. You set the kid inside his pod and clicked the button to slide the doors shut and waited a moment to see if there would be any fuss from the other side. When none came you sat on the edge of Din’s bed, heaving out a sigh of relief. “He may be the cutest little cock-block that I have ever encountered in my life,” you jested. Din didn’t move from his stance against the doorway and it made you a little unsure of yourself. Your hands smoothed down your pants to rest on your knees as you contemplated what to do. What did Din think of everything before? Did he regret it now that time and space had been given to the both of you? While you were with the kid you had reflected back on your actions as well and while you didn’t regret what had happened, you did regret that you didn’t take your time to assure Din that things would be fine between the both of you and that if he wanted to forget that it ever happened, you would act like such. You didn’t want to ruin anything between the two of you. “It is late. I suppose I should let you get some sleep, too. I’ll pilot for a bit.” When you stood, Din finally spoke. “Did you mean what you said before? About wanting to ‘do it again sometime’?” You answered without really thinking, letting your heart lead first before your mind could catch and silence it. “I did.” Din’s head tipped and you imagined his eyes closing in thought and you wondered what he was thinking. You hoped it was about touching you again. Maker, you wanted him to touch you again. “I would like that. Kriff - let me, please.” It sounded like a plea as he closed the distance between both of you, his hands sliding up to cup your face. His gloves were still off and his fingers were warm as they slid against your skin. The cool metal of his helmet dipped against your forehead to rest there as he held you close. It almost felt like a kiss and for all you knew, it was the closest thing you would get to having one with him. When you didn’t pull away Din shifted to press closer. “Take off your clothes,” he softly whispered. “And lay on the bed.” The command left you shaky with need and you fell into a gentle movement as you removed your clothing, Din stepping back enough to watch you expose yourself to him. You glanced briefly to the egg pod that Grogu was in and the lights blinked gently to indicate that the little one was still asleep inside. You would have to stay quiet. Your shirt came first, up and over your head. The cool air of the ship made your skin raise with gooseflesh and Din reached out to touch your arm, thumb rubbing over the prickled flesh. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths as you leaned down to take off your pants and underwear in one go, Din’s hand slipping into your hair as you did. He wasn’t making this any easier. “On the bed.” It sounded like it was more for himself than you but you moved away from his touch and laid where you were told to, propping yourself up by your elbows as you watched Din move to kneel before you. Awareness sprung to the forefront of your mind and you realized just how very naked you were and it made you blush. Din was slow, too, as he reached to touch the bone of your ankle and up, his palm curving over your shin to form against your leg. It was so tender, how he touched you, and you reveled in it. His touch slid higher towards the warmth between your legs and you shut your eyes, head tipping back as his knee knocked your legs apart to reveal yourself to him. “Mesh’la,” he muttered, his fingers stopped at your hip as he looked you over. You felt so hot under his gaze even though you couldn’t see anything past the black visor. Arching into his touch you allowed your legs to bend and your hips shift up so he could see all. His hand traveled from your hip to the space just below your belly and his heel dragged across your pubic mound, then further. He covered you fully at first, his palm curling before his fingers dragged along your outer lips then inner. You canted your hips up into the touch and the very tips of his fingers pressed inside. You moaned out his name before remembering you needed to be quiet and you pressed a hand against your mouth as he explored further up to the first knuckle of one finger. You were already so slick and open for him and it made it easy for him to slide all the way in and then pull back out to add a second finger. He slowly fucked you with his hand and when he curled his fingers up you had to catch yourself from pitching forward. It was so good - almost enough. You reached down to join his hand and you spread yourself with your fingers, your thumb pressing against your clit. “Here,” you breathed. “Touch here, too. Steady and slow. Don’t go fast, not yet.” Din’s thumb flicked up and over and you bucked up again into the touch. His free hand came down on your stomach, pressing your hips back into the mattress as he rubbed small circles on your clit while his fingers remained in you, stretching you full. “Kriff -that’s so good.” It was a praise that spurred him forward, keeping his thumb pressed down but speeding up to a quicker stroke. Your body arched up despite his hold and you twisted beneath him as you felt the head of your arousal rumble deep. A thin sheen of sweat broke across your skin as Din kept at you, steady and so beautifully dedicated. He listened to your whines and pants of pleasure and adapted to it. “I’m gonna - fuck…” Your hands twist in the sheets of the bed, your entire being becoming taught as your orgasm builds beneath Din’s hands. “Cum for me, ad’ika.” You do, your legs shaking as Din strokes the fire within, along your clit, and through your body’s movements beneath him. He rides your release with you and you know he’s watching it all, his gaze behind the helmet heavy on your flushed skin. Through your haze you can feel how gentle he is with you, his hand no longer bringing you over the edge but now coaxing you to ride the slope down. He holds you, your leg and your hip, his thumbs peeling over and over against the skin in a gentle worshiping caress. Blinking lazily you turn to him, glance down between his own legs and see the dark patch gathering there and you couldn’t help but smile. He hushes you and moves to cover your body with his own, his weight held up by the frame of his arms. “Thank you,” Din’s voice is soft through the vocoder. “Let me -” You reach down between the both of you but Din catches your wrist. “Not tonight. Let’s just stay like this,” He pauses as you frown a little. “Please,” He adds and you agree, settling beneath the cover of his body in the knowledge that he just wanted to take care of you and take greedy touches of your skin. The warm weight of him sends you in and out of sleep and you twist to settle more comfortably on your side. Din moves with you and lays behind, his body pressed up to every inch of your backside and legs twining with yours.

It was, perhaps, the best way you have fallen asleep in a very long time.

#randyanswers #din x reader #din djarin #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #the mandolorian #randywrites

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