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teaberrii · 2 years ago

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Chapter Four: The President's Talk

You and Cyno can’t be more different. He’s Akademiya’s perfect student council president. You’re a labelled, cursed delinquent who changes into a cat for eight hours when kissed.

When Cyno gets a complaint about you, he’s forced to take action, only for it to lead to unexpected circumstances.

Cyno/You

Chapter warnings: Mild language and violence

Notes:

Cross-posted on Ao3

Chapter index at the end of chapter one

“You got her number?” Cyno and Tighnari are walking to the academy when Cyno tells him that he got your number over the weekend. Tighnari’s jaw had dropped, and he was dying for details. “... And you’re telling me that she was the one who gave it to you… willingly?”

Cyno glances at his overly dramatic friend. “You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“You just got the number of the most dangerous student in Akademiya. That’s almost newsworthy if you ask me.”

“She’s not dangerous,” Cyno says flatly. “It’s all in everyone’s head.”

Tighnari smiles slightly. “Why do you get strangely defensive when people talk about her?”

Cyno turns to his friend. “Defensive? I’m not defensive.”

“Well, usually, you would keep quiet. As long as you get the job done.”

Cyno looks away and mutters, “You’re imagining things.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. President.”

A short distance away, Cyno and Tighnari see a young child rush out of a small alleyway. Cyno recognizes him immediately. Shortly after, you come running out behind him.

“Don’t run off like that,” you chide, taking the child's hand. “It’s dangerous.”

“But—” He smiles when he sees Cyno. “It’s onii-chan!”

“Onii-chan?” Tighnari looks at Cyno. “Do you know that kid?”

You turn around and see Cyno walk up to you with Tighnari following closely behind him.

"Now we're bumping into each other on the streets. I'm getting a little concerned, prez."

“You shouldn’t be, Catnip.”

Tighnari looks from Cyno to you and back to Cyno. “Catnip?”

“Ooh, what a cute nickname!” The child looks at you. “It suits you!”

"Quiet," you deadpan. That almost got a chuckle out of Cyno. But then, you open your bag and pull out a familiar towel… and his shirt.

“... Why does she have your shirt, Cyno?” Tighnari asks.

“You dropped it the other night,” you say, handing Cyno his things.

“The other night?”

Cyno takes it from you as you say, “You’re lucky I found it. Maybe you should come wearing a shirt next time.”

“Next time?”

Cyno turns to his friend. “You’re not a broken record, Tighnari.”

“But—”

“... Everything okay over here?”

Tighnari instantly puts his hand on Cyno’s shoulder when Jebrael appears. He comes up beside you and narrows his eyes at Cyno. But, it’s you who speaks. “Everything’s fine, Jebrael. We happened to cross paths… again.”

The child takes your hand and says, "I'm going to be late!"

You glance at your watch. “Ah, you’re right.”

Jebrael takes the child’s hand. “... I’ll walk him to school.”

“Are you sure?”

“You’ll be late at this point.”

“Wait.” Everyone looks at Tighnari. “You’re coming to school?”

“Is that a problem?” you ask.

Tighnari quickly shakes his head. “I’m just… surprised. That’s all. Don’t mind me.”

Cyno glances at you, who looks obviously hesitant. "Kaveh is teaching our first period today." Everyone looks at Cyno, but he's looking at you. "... I can tell him about your situation. He'll understand."

“... Thanks,” you say, taking the kid’s hand. Then, you look down at him. “Let’s go.”

Cyno watches you leave but senses someone staring at him. When he looks at Jebrael, the man says nothing and follows you.

Beside Cyno, Tighnari sighs out of relief. “What’s with that guy? He’s mad intimidating.” If only Tighnari knew that Jebrael was a criminal. But Cyno isn’t going to let that slip. “... I wonder what their relationship is.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Cyno says. He turns to his friend. “Let’s go.” Then, Cyno starts walking in another direction, leaving behind a curious Tighnari.

"Oh, don't tell me you're not even a little curious," the vice president says, hurrying to catch up with him.

“No.”

“Why do I not believe that?” Tighnari deadpans. “And who’s that kid calling you onii-chan?” Cyno quickens his pace as if that will help him dodge Tighnari’s many, many questions. Yet Tighnari easily keeps up with him. “Maybe I should call you that, too.”

Cyno stops and looks his friend dead in the eyes. "No."

“Aw, why not?”

Cyno can’t get to school fast enough.

Once Cyno and Tighnari arrive at school, Tighnari part ways with him for his first period. As Cyno walks down the hallway, he hears conversations about the upcoming overnight beach trip, which makes him wonder why you decided to sign up for it. Personal interest, maybe. But he's never seen you attend any of the school field programs. So, why this one?

Cyno slides the door open and sees Kaveh, who turns to him and says, “You’re right on time.”

“Y/N is going to be a little late today,” Cyno says quietly, walking up to him. “She’s dropping the kid off at school.”

“... Are you asking me to excuse her?”

Cyno awkwardly looks away. “... Could you?”

Kaveh smiles. “Well, this is a first.”

Suddenly, the door slides open, and everyone turns and sees you are a little out of breath. Kaveh looks past Cyno and says, "Nice to have you join us." Then, he glances at Cyno. "You're actually right on time. Take a seat. Both of you."

Cyno shifts his bag on his shoulder and then makes his way to the back. You end up sitting a few seats in front of him. Once both of you are seated, Kaveh begins his class.

Once again, Cyno occasionally looks in your direction, and his mind wanders. Jebrael and Rahman clearly know about your secret. But, other than him, does anyone outside your circle know about it, too? Cyno hopes the answer is no, and he isn't sure why. Perhaps it makes him feel… special. It's like a secret between you and him. He sighs softly. He's supposed to be dealing with you, not… thinking about you.

Then there’s Jebrael and Rahman.

From what Cyno observed, the three of you seem like close friends. But is there something more between you and any of them? It doesn’t seem like it, but Cyno can’t be sure.

When he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket, he sees a familiar name on the screen.

Catnip: You’re staring again.

Cyno looks up just before you turn back toward the front. Was that a little smile on your face? Cyno scoffs quietly. Are you… teasing him? Cyno doesn't text in class. Not usually, at least. But this time, he can't hold himself back.

You’re paying attention to the wrong thing.

Cyno watches you glance at your phone and scoff quietly. Your eyes meet his, and he can’t help but give you a slight, smug grin.

Catnip: So are you. Prez.

Cyno rolls his eyes but ultimately puts his phone away. He’ll deal with you… later.

By the time class is over, you’re already out the door before Cyno can catch up with you. When he enters the hallway full of students, you’ve already disappeared. Then, he feels a light slap on his back.

“Hey, Cyno. Are you looking for someone?”

Cyno turns around and sees Candace. “Ah, no… I’m not.”

Candace gives him a skeptical look. “You sure?”

“... Should we go to class?”

Candace laughs. "Sure. Whatever you say, Mr. President." Then, as the two friends walk down the hallway, Candace says, "There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about." Cyno turns to her. “... The room assignments for the upcoming trip.” She sighs. “The girls I’m rooming with have a problem with, well, three guesses who.”

Cyno doesn’t need three guesses.

The look Candace gives him is the answer he needs. "They're scared of her, so they're asking if she could room with someone else."

"Why is everyone scared of her?" Cyno hadn't meant to ask the question out loud. But it slipped before he could stop himself.

Candace glances at him. "I don't want to make assumptions about her. But I can't ignore their concerns either."

“... You want my opinion on her?”

“You’re probably the only student who’s talking to her.”

"That… can't be completely true," Cyno says. "There's that girl…." But, for the life of him, he can't remember your friend's name.

It's Candace who helps jogs his memory when she says her name. "If you're talking about her, the girls in my room told me she was the reason they didn't want to room with her."

Cyno raises a brow. "That’s… interesting. Aren’t they friends?”

“I thought so, too. But, well, apparently not.”

"If you believed her, you wouldn't be coming to me."

Candace stops in front of a classroom. “Exactly. I don’t believe that girl. Something just seems... off. You’re the one who’s been dealing with Y/N. So, I thought you would have an unbiased opinion.”

“I still don’t know her that well,” Cyno says. “But, she’s not dangerous.”

Candace chuckles. "It's the first time I've heard you give an opinion on someone with such conviction. But then again, she might not want to room with us either."

Somehow, Cyno doubts that. But it's still a valid possibility. "... I could talk to her about it."

“Oh? You think she’ll open up to you?”

“... It’s worth a shot.”

Candace gently hits his arm. “Well, I’ll leave it to you then.”

Cyno watches Candace enter her class. He never thought he would be dealing with something as trivial as this. Is it strange that he isn’t even annoyed?

A couple of classes later, Cyno is looking for a quiet place to have lunch when he thinks of the academy rooftop. As soon as he gets there, he’s pleasantly surprised that he isn’t alone.

You turn around upon hearing footsteps and scoff quietly. "Should I say that great minds think alike?"

“Why not?” Cyno asks, walking up to you.

“Hm… I don’t know. You’re the perfect student council president,” you deadpan. “How could I compete with that?”

Cyno puts his elbows on the railing and looks at you. "Yet you still keep up with your grades despite your absence. I don't know how you do it, but regardless, it is impressive."

You laugh and turn around to look at the view of the city with Cyno. “Should I tell you my secret?” Cyno looks at you, and you look back. “Not for free, of course.”

“... At what cost?”

“Good question. I… haven’t thought that far.” Then, you smile. “Okay, honestly, I wasn’t expecting you to play along.”

"So… you're saying you didn't expect me to have a sense of humour?"

"Well, every time I saw you, you looked so serious. It was like you were incapable of smiling."

Cyno looks back at the city view. “... What are you doing up here, Catnip?”

You hold up some empty containers. “I was having lunch. What’s the prez doing up here?”

Cyno smiles slightly. "Then, I guess you can say great minds think alike."

“... So, you can smile.” Cyno glances at you, and you clear your throat. “You should do it more often. You’ll get more fans that way.”

“... Fans?”

"You don't know? You have a fan club."

“I didn’t need to know that.”

You glance at him. “Not a fan of them, I guess.”

“I’d rather focus on things that matter.”

“Oh? Like what?”

“... You.”

You're silent for a moment, which makes Cyno wonder if he made you flustered. Finally, you say, “I guess you’ve learned the art of flattery. You’re talking about those complaints about me, huh? People wanting me gone.”

Cyno steps toward you. "There's something I want to ask you." You turn to him. "... Was it because of your secret the reason you punched that student?" You hold his stare, and Cyno thinks you're deciding to trust him. or not Cyno remembers the kid who kissed your cheek. Is that the trigger? A kiss? Did that student try to kiss you? Or worse… Cyno's grip on the railing tightens at the thought. "... Did he… do something to you?"

You were studying late at the library when you decided to step outside for a break. You were standing in front of a vending machine when you heard footsteps. When you turned around, you saw one of the older students. You recognized him as the captain of the school's basketball team. You figured he wanted to use the machine, so you were about to leave when he called your name.

You turned around just as he said, “I like you, too.”

“... What?”

He stepped toward you, and you stepped back. "You like me, don't you?"

“No,” you said flatly. “You have the wrong person.”

You turned around again and were about to walk away when he grabbed your wrist. "You don't have to be shy."

Something about that statement angered you immensely. Yet, you tried your best to keep your anger in check. “Let me go.”

“Oh, c’mon, I—”

He didn't get a chance to finish when you took a step back, rotated your wrist toward his thumb, and as soon as you felt his grip loosen, you immediately retracted your hand.

“I don’t even know you,” you said. “Get lost.”

As soon as you looked away, he grabbed your shoulder and forced you against the school wall. He smirked as he said, "You have a mouth on you. I like that in a woman." He leaned in, but thanks to your quick reflexes and past training, you quickly escaped by giving him a hard kick in the stomach.

You glared at him. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He glared back, and you knew you angered him. But you could care less. He struggled to stand, but once he did, he said, "I thought all you girls were the same." Just walk away, you told yourself. He was not worth it. Just. Walk. Away. "As long as we have good grades… a nice face… a guaranteed future… all you need are some pretty words to get you screaming—"

SMACK.

Your hand was throbbing in pain. But seeing him nearly unconscious on the concrete was worth it. You could've punched him harder, but you wanted to get something across… if that punch wasn't enough. So you walked up to him, leaned over, and grabbed his shirt collar.

"... Next time, it won't just be your ugly face," you said. You glanced at his bruised mouth. "Maybe I should rip out your tongue next time."

Then, you threw him back on the concrete and walked away.

“I didn’t know I was being filmed,” you say. Then, you sigh. “I was just as surprised as everyone else to see that video of me going around.”

“... It was deliberate.” Cyno meets your eyes. “... If that video really got everything that happened, you wouldn’t be a victim.”

You step closer to him. “Prez… are you mad?”

Is he? Cyno isn't sure what he's feeling. He can only describe it as being numb to everything. But he's slightly shaking and has to grab the railing to stop.

“... You’re right,” you continue, and Cyno glances at you. “After seeing it, I knew it was deliberate.”

“Did you tell—”

“The school knows what happened.”

“Then—”

“... But they can’t solve everything.” You give Cyno a wry smile. “They say schools are meant to be a safe place. A place where you can make mistakes and get a second chance. But sometimes, you have to take things into your own hands.”

Why didn't the school announce what really happened? The only announcement they got was that he had transferred schools. "Why are you keeping this a secret? You told me before… you couldn't tell me. Yet, you told me anyway."

"Would you have believed me then?" The question takes Cyno by surprise. "All of us have biases. You still probably thought I was your everyday school delinquent even though you saw what happened at the park."

“... You’re afraid,” Cyno says quietly. “You’re afraid no one will believe you.”

You look at him and laugh softly. “I’m not expecting you to believe me, prez. It’s mostly to get you to leave me alone.” Cyno doesn’t know why, but that statement bothers him. Aren’t you friends? “So… stop staring at me in class.”

"You wouldn't have given me your number if you wanted me to leave you alone." Cyno leans slightly closer. "You don't need to keep putting up a front. At least… not around me. We're friends."

Cyno can see the rollercoaster of emotions in your eyes. But then, you surprisingly put your hand on his head. “Good point. We are friends. And… friends respect each other’s choices.” Oh. Come on. Are you still going to continue pushing him away? Then, you look down and smile. “Have a nice lunch, prez.”

Cyno leans upright as you walk away. But before you get far, he says your name. He hears you stop, so he turns around. “You did the right thing.”

You don’t turn to face him, but Cyno sees your shoulders fall slightly before you walk away.

Cyno isn't in the best mood for the rest of the day. He never thought that finding out what happened would make him so… grouchy. He semi-knew the student who you punched. A senior who balanced athletics and grades effortlessly. He was also popular… until Cyno heard something about him dumping a girl after sleeping with her. However, the rumour didn't last long, as that girl didn't "stand out," according to what Cyno heard. She didn't get the best grades. Her athletics were also so-so. So, no one paid much attention to her. She should be in her last year now. Did you know her?

Once Cyno turns the corner, he sees Candace, Tighnari, and a few other student council members standing together. When Cyno gets closer, he overhears a little of their conversation.

“... Maybe it has something to do with You-Know-Who.”

Candace rolls her eyes. “She’s not Voldemort. Just say her name.”

“It seems like she’s putting a lot of stress on Cyno. Maybe we should let the teachers handle her instead.”

“... Somehow, I think Cyno would disagree with you,” Tighnari says. “I think they’re friends now.”

“That’s a new development."

"Yeah… she came to return his shirt this morning—" A collective gasp from the others, except Candace, who's just… stunned. When Tighnari realizes what he accidentally said, he puts a hand over his mouth. "You… you weren't supposed to know that."

“Yes,” Cyno finally says behind Tighnari. “You weren’t supposed to know that.”

The vice president immediately turns around, and everyone freezes upon seeing an unhappy-looking Cyno.

"C-Cyno," one of the members says with a nervous laugh. "How long were you standing there?"

“Long enough,” Cyno deadpans. Does he even want to know what they were talking about?

“We were a little worried about you,” another says. “We saw you earlier, and you didn’t look very happy.”

“I’m fine.” Cyno looks at the clock and says, “... You’ll be late.”

“Ah, you’re right! See you, Cyno!”

“Bye!”

When the other members of the Student Council leave, Cyno turns to Tighnari, who looks a little defeated. "I really didn't mean for that to come out."

Cyno sighs. “I trust that they won’t spread anything unnecessary. It’s fine.”

“... You okay, though? The last time I saw you, you were still a little chipper,” Candace says.

“... Just tired.”

Then, Cyno walks off as Candace and Tighnari glance at each other.

When Cyno leaves the school to head home, the skies have already darkened. Yet, he has a nagging feeling he's being followed, which all started when he left the school grounds.

"Is that the kid?"

"... I think so. He matches the description... Ow! Why the fuck did you hit me?"

"You had one job, and you still can't do it right!"

Cyno stops and turns around, but he only sees the street lamp flickering in the dark.

It isn't until he turns around that he hears a faint voice say, "Stop pushing!"

“You’re going to get us caught, asshole!”

Whoever these men are, they are doing a terrible job. Cyno believes he can do better. He shifts the bag on his shoulder and cautiously approaches the voices from behind the street corner. But when he looks around the corner, it's empty. He swears this is where it came from. A footstep behind him makes him spin around and see two tall men.

One of them grabs Cyno by the shirt collar and looks him up and down. “... Are you the prez? The one who's causing Ojou trouble?”

Who? Regardless, Cyno grabs the man's hand and strikes him in the face. The man stumbles, and Cyno quickly slaps his hand away from his collar.

“... The kid knows how to fight.”

Cyno glares at them. Who the hell are these guys?

“Hey! What are you doing?”

Cyno recognizes the voice. He turns around as the men look past him. What are you doing here? As soon as the men step toward you, Cyno glares at them. He’s about to strike them with a turning kick when he feels someone grab his arm. Cyno stops and turns around.

“They’re harmless,” you say.

Huh? Excuse me?

“Ojou!”

Cyno turns to the men and sees that both of them are standing as straight as a board. He looks back at you.

Ojou?

Chapter Five

End Notes:

Onii chan = older brother

Ojou = young lady

I had a lot of fun writing this... and I think it's my favourite chapter so far, hehe.

Tag List: @lxry-chxn @suoshiii @lordbugs @sketcheeee @seirenspinel

#cyno x reader #cyno x you #cyno fluff #cyno genshin impact #cyno x yn #cyno x y/n

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twilightmalachite · 1 year ago

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2×2 - Children on the Streets 5

Author: Akira

Characters: Yuuta, Shinobu, Nagisa

Translator: Mika Enstars

"(T-this might be turning out to be less of a joke than I thought…)"

[Read on my blog for the best viewing experience with Oi~ssu ♪]

Season: Spring

Location: Chinese Restaurant

Early the next day, inside the Chinese restaurant…

Yuuta: (I-In the end… Last night, Anzu-san and Aniki both disappeared into the downtown area at night, and never returned.)

(Whaaa…? There’s no way, right? Or is this for real?)

(Last night, Shinobu-kun lectured me, saying that “even if we are siblings, I shouldn’t find amusement in such personal matters, de gozaru”, even though he’s an only child.)

(But truthfully, I was too tired to poke my nose into it anyways, so I pitched my tent and immediately fell asleep.)

(That, and I felt confident that there’s just no way my Aniki would get involved in a sexy subject like that anyways!)

(Because he’s never done anything so flirtatious since he was a child!)

(He was always taking care of me~. He was always by my side, he probably didn’t have the time for pursuing anything like love.)

(That’s why I started teasing him, finding it unusual and amusing for there to be a bit of a strange atmosphere between him and Anzu-san.)

Yuuta: (T-this might be turning out to be less of a joke than I thought…)

(Could it… But… Hmmm…)

Shinobu: Yuuta-ku~n?

Wha’cha standing doing nothing for, de gozaru? I’m new to the restaurant, so I’d like it if you could teach me the basics and whatnot~! ♪

What shall I do, de gozaru? I’ll do any chore that needs to be done, de gozaru! Heheh, I owe this restaurant a night of lodging and a meal…!

Yuuta: Shinobu-kun…

What do I do… Hey, have you seen Aniki anywhere? Or Anzu-san?

Shinobu: Huh? No, I haven’t seen Hinata-kun yet today, let alone Ran-senpai, de gozaru…?

Wha? Could it be that you haven’t seen them since you spotted them last night…?

Yuuta: I dunno… I did peek into the room we used to stay in, where Aniki and Ran-senpai were probably staying in, but nobody was there.

Maybe Aniki seriously did slip out somewhere with Anzu-san?

Shinobu: Whaaa… T-that’s concerning, de gozaru.

Yuuta: It is, right? What do I do?

This is no good~! We’re not like UNDEAD or Crazy:B, we sell a pure image! What do I do, what do I do, this is a scandal~!

Shinobu: Huh? No, the reason why I said it was concerning is because we were told this area hasn’t been safe as of late—

Like, I know it’s probably unlikely, but maybe he got attacked by a slasher, something.

Ah, but, I guess Yuuta-kun’s imagining something different…?

Yuuta: I-I’m not! Stop it! Come on, don’t act so serious, don’t make it sound like only I’m like some naughty kid!

Shinobu: Ahaha… But I’m seriously concerned over all sorts of things de gozaru, we need to figure out how they’re doing as soon as we can.

Let’s contact them by phone—Wait, they were confiscated on the first day of filming!

Yuuta: M-Maybe I could ask Master to lend his phone… Wait, Aniki would have had his phone confiscated too, right? Shinobu-kun, do you remember Anzu-san’s phone number?

Shinobu: Whaa? You don’t often need to remember phone numbers when it comes to smartphones, so I highly doubt I do?

Yuuta: Rrggh? That Aniki~, always, always needlessly disturbing my emotions with every little thing that he does!

Nagisa: …Morning. Why the fuss?

Shinobu: Oh, Ran-senpai! Good morning!

Nagisa: …Yes. Sorry to wander out on you, I like to take a leisurely stroll and take in the clean morning air.

Yuuta: I don’t care about that! Aaahh, do you know anything about Aniki, Ran-senpai!?

Nagisa: …Whoa. I don’t fully understand, but do calm down.

…Because it’s okay. Truth is, last night, Hinata-kun asked me to pass a message along to you.

Yuuta: He did?

Nagisa: …Yes. Umm, it was “I have some unfinished business to attend to, so I won’t be back for a while. I hope you all do well with the program. I love you, my brother”.

Yuuta: This isn’t a reassuring message at all!

The words of love I hear every day don’t move me, and I still don’t have any idea where he is or what he’s doing~!!

Nagisa: …Now, now, I’d really like for you to calm down.

…Truth is, I do have an idea of where he might be.

Yuuta: Huh? What do you mean? Even as his twin, I don’t have any idea…

Nagisa: …During my time with Hinata-kun these last few days, we’ve witnessed a number of peculiar sights.

…Yesterday, we told you about these delinquents of sorts causing trouble around the town.

…There’s a possibility that Hinata-kun has something to do with these delinquents.

…Several times, I witnessed him speaking to people like that in secret. He laughed and told me, “Don’t worry about it. They’re old friends”.

…In hindsight, it was a little, well, maybe a lot much suspicious.

Yuuta: Wh-what does this mean? My Aniki might have something to do with…those delinquents…?

Nagisa: …Well, don’t ask me. As someone more like family to Hinata-kun, I’m sure you’re more familiar with his friendships, Yuuta-kun.

Yuuta: But, that’s… When it comes to my Aniki…

Yuuta: (But… When we were living in the streets as kids, Aniki often snuck away out of my sight.)

(And when he’d come back after a time, he’d somehow have money or something like that.)

(Could it be… During those times, Aniki would join the local delinquents to do bad things and earn money…?)

(So now that he’s reconnected with what seems to be old bad friends, he’s planning to do something bad again…?)

(No, I’m thinking too much, aren’t I?)

(I have faith in you, okay, Aniki?)

Yuuta: … …

[ ☆ ]

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#2×2 #2x2 #event #translation #shinobu sengoku #yuuta aoi #nagisa ran

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offbrand-deltatraveler · 2 years ago

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Tbh is it just me or has Supercute Adventures gotten a lot weirder in Season 6

Not because of the unholy amount of Three Parters, but because there’s this weird emphasis placed on friendship that honestly feels really forced

Season 1-4 were great, with every episode showcasing some random thing hapoening around town that there was always something to learn from either lore-wise or life lesson-wise, and Season 5, while it had it’s weird moments, was ultimately not bad either. But then Season 6 comes along and, while you should expect kids cartoons to be sunshine and rainbows, I can guarantee you there is not a single kids cartoon out there worth watching that is that level of sunshine and rainbows. Not even Peppa Pig goes anywhere near that shit

Like surely I can’t be the only one who notices how monotone and ultimately stale every mention of friendship and togetherness has gotten recently

Because at least in Seasons 1-5, when it was mentioned, there was some kind of purpose that that mention served, and the way it was worded was always intertwined with that purpose. But in Season 6 they just say it for the sake of reminding you that “ALL THE CHARACTERS ARE BESTIES BY THE WAY, IN CASE YOU DIDN’T ALREADY KNOW THAT”

Like. The one Season 6 episode so far that doesn’t do this in some capacity is My Melody’s Bad Day, and that’s because the point of that episode was to show that it’s okay to not be okay all the time because real friends will be willing to be there for you in times of struggle. Admittedly My Mel didn’t go through any real visible struggle as her Bad Mood had no real cause, but the point still got across all the same

Meanwhile compare that to Hello Kitty & The Beanstalk, where while it is technically exempt from this with everyone climbing the beanstalk with Hello Kitty because she’s literally going to die without them for all they know, “Teamwork makes the dreamwork” wasn’t the plot of the episode. Not to mention the “Every adventure is better with friends!!” line is the exact same shit so I say fuck it

Like you get what I’m saying here right

Gone are the days of episodes like Happy Family that shows that not all family has to be blood-related, or Mission Invisible or Kuromi’s Sleepover that shows that real friends won’t judge you for enjoying things that make you happy as long as it’s not like. Some real sick shit, or All Thumbs which teaches you to be the self you want to be rather than the “self” other people want you to be, or Keroppi Faces The Music which was actually real fucking shit ngl or Imperfection that shows that sometimes people make mistakes and we shouldn’t always hold that against them, or My Melody’s Friendship Ultra Blast or Cinnamoroll Sweetness that’s all about setting boundaries and letting people know when they’re doing something that makes you uncomfortable, Happy Campers teaching you that campfire story monsters aren’t real and can’t hurt you, Cinnamoroll’s Dance Craze telling you to be careful what you post online, Flowers For Chococat showing that too much of something is good for nothing, Special Delivery showing how easy it is to get distracted and foresake your responsibilities…

And even episodes that weren’t necessarily about anything were good. Chococat vs Gravity for the most part was literally just Chococat & Badtz being bros, and every Fishy episode is just about Fishy being the mischievous knockoff genie (Affectionate) that she is, Badtz-Maru’s Manga Mania was just an excuse to have Badtz be a Manga Artist because Why The Hell Not, Lost & Found teaches no real lesson ultimately and only shows Badtz, Keroppi, and Pompom being lost in the woods, The Wiltening is just a VR Game, Kuromi’s Escape Room is just an escape room, Hello Kitty’s Gameshow Showdown…

Every Holiday Special episode

But the difference there is that at least they admit that they have no real plot or moral of the story. They instead just show us more about the town they take place in or simply wanna show X Characters doing Y Thing

Meanwhile Hello Kitty And The Beanstalk says “Every adventure is better with friends” which I doubt anyone but me actually remembered sure, but the actual events of the episode are about… What, exactly? Not forgetting housewarming party invitations?? Not leaving friends to die when going to face a giant??? Not to waste an entire episode on a humorously pointless preparation montage which’s punchline wasn’t even funny????

And what’s Hello Kitty In “Back To My Friends” about? “Remember Kids: Don’t build time machines. Knowing your dumb ass you’ll accidentally destroy your entire bloodline”? I know it has the line at the end about “Leaving the past behind and focusing on building our future as best friends”, but the events prior to it don’t convey that point at all. Not to mention that Sweet Happy News article is an Unfired Checkov’s Gun that will likely never fire

I never really know how to end posts like these but yeah. Those are my personal gripes with Season 6 of Supercute Adventures

Do I think this means the show is coming to be the second Aggretsuko in terms of inconsistency, bad endings, and overall storytelling shittiness? Honestly no. I have faith that it may go back to it’s original roots sooner or later. I just. Really don’t like the needlessly sappy “Oh by the way did you know the characters are like. Friends??? Yeah that’s a thing we’re gonna be shoving in your face constantly for no apparent reason” bullshit

#hello kitty and friends: supercute adventures #sanrio

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created-creator · 1 year ago

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multigender family relationships. right? what’s up with that?

mom goes thrifting with her daughter, it’s their special thing; but when she’s her son, they can’t leave the house, not with her- him- YOU looking like that. what if some well-meaning stranger asks what THEY’RE having? what if the cashier can’t parse “ma’am” from the possibility of “sir” and stammers and decides on saying nothing?

dad never wanted daughters. it’s hard to tell if he ever wanted children; in his typical fashion, he’ll neither confirm nor deny. it kinda of reads as both: you’re right, no, i never wanted kids, but hey, your mother did. dad thinks womanhood is a disability. to have a daughter grow up to experience womanhood and disability as separate things and without taking that view is reprehensible; to have a son grow up to view disability and womanhood as morally-neutral things, while experiencing both as well, even more so. and it doesn’t help that they’re the same person.

i spent so long trying and failing to be my sister’s brother that i didn’t get to be her sister, too. i am my sibling’s sibling, and their brother, and their sister, and it must get overwhelming, because i’m three-fold and spread out all over, and they’re one person concentrated, defined, straightforward and with measured, deadly accuracy. i couldn’t be the cool older sister or slacker over brother because i grew up over-exerting myself, studying subjects they weren’t even teaching in school, trying to be the best at something so i’d finally have a label that wasn’t gender to define me: stand-out star of the high school drama club, most valuable player in gym class, the only saxophonist, like, there, i guess. when my rental was up and i had to give the saxophone back, it was like giving back my voice - and i was never even good, i was just good at using it as a prop to hide behind. “yeah, i’m related to- yeah, the saxophonist, you got it. infamous, huh?”

i couldn’t be the cool older sister or brother because i was too busy struggling against my body; i’m not a sister because of my body, not a brother in spite of it, but i didn’t have the words for that yet, and i opened other things instead of my mouth to try and test them out. i missed out on connection because i was flailing, and doing it in a way that gave way to a threefold person. “will you always be like this?” a little. and i’m sorry i let my mental health get in the way, because we could’ve really connected, again and again and again…

i’m your nephew and your niece, and i’m tired of you talking about my insecurities in public; yes, they fluctuate from day to do, yes, you’re really good at figuring them out, no, the waiter DOESNT need to know i’m insecure about my chest but not my nose, actually. i’m your grandson and your granddaughter and maybe it’s okay that i gained some weight in college; i was your granddaughter when i was starving myself to be worthy of being your grandson, too.

my family’s big, i could go on forever. i shouldn’t, though. this isn’t queer theory, like i wanted it to be, this is just one multigender person struggling through a funhouse mirrors’ worth of duality. when i go home tonight, i’ll wave to my sister; she’ll wave back; i won’t know who she’s waving to or how much she knows, or how much i have to do to repair our relationship. i won’t talk to my dad; he won’t register me at all, which is as close to agender as i’ll ever get - invisibility. the absence of gender through the absence of being. doesn’t sound all that bad, sometimes. i’ll plan on ways to get my sibling and me outta this small town; i want my sister to come, i don’t know what they think. we’re all at different points in our lives and careers, i’ve spent all my worth and promise and it’s unfair of me to drag two people down when only one has been generous enough to consent to it thus far.

and i’ll hug my mom, and she’ll hug her daughter. but never her child, and never her son.

#words #vent #created creator #gender tag #genderfluid #multigender #tw disordered eating #tw self harm

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innerpeacesanctum · 2 years ago

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How to Get Rid of Negative Energy

So you have negative energy, and you want to find a way to get rid of it? Signs of stored negative energy are

Affected Mood. You have mood swing after mood swing and it seems like it's never-ending. Most of the time, you will wake up in a bad mood for no reason at all and you wonder what could be making you feel like this. It's negative energy!

Physical Symptoms. You are continuously hurting and aching, and you may live on ibuprofen. It's nothing serious, you are just surrounded by negative energy.

Sleep Problems. You are either not sleeping at all, having broken sleep patterns or you sleep way too much. Nightmares, very weird dreams and sleep paralysis can occur too.

Relationships. All of this can affect your relationships whether it's your partner, your friends, your coworkers, your kids.

In my experience, I have had all of this happen to me. Sometimes it can be serious and take it's toll on your life. There are times where I've walked out on a job without a word, I've disappeared and went MIA on those who love me, I struggle with sleep, etc. It ruins your life if you don't learn to rid yourself of negativity. There is no simple solution, no quick fix to rid yourself. It takes effort and it is very difficult. You can't just light a candle and say a few prayers to make it go away. You have to work on yourself. You have to rewire your brain, self-reflect, set boundaries, and rid yourself of certain people in your life. It is so much deeper than what everybody thinks and you have to do it daily.

There are different types of negative energy that people hold onto.

Talking to ourselves negatively will make an impact on the way you feel and the way you see yourself. And all of that negativity will reflect on our every day life such as work and relationships.

Negativity also stems from our culture and society. The way the world tells us to act, how to behave, what we should and shouldn’t say, etc and not be our true self.

Ancestry also has a part to play in it too. We hear stories that are passed down through generations from our family members and most of those stories are weighted with trauma. So when we hear those, we take it all in and the negativity we are already holding onto feeds off of more negative energy. And so it just builds up and we store it away, in return our lives become more difficult. It has an impact on our life.

Unaddressed emotions and thoughts are a big part of it. Every single person on this earth has had some sort of trauma in their life. And if you really look around, there really isn't anybody who you can talk to. You're scared of what that person will think or scared of how they react because you don't want them to add anymore negativity than you already have. And because of that, you are terrified that if you get a negative reaction from them, you will implode. And so, we hold onto those emotions. We hide them deep down and cover it up with a smile and pretend everything is okay. Fake it til you make it, right? WRONG! You have to overcome that. Tell people how you feel and what you think, no matter their reaction. But at the same time, also be wise of who you open up to as well.

There are many ways to rid yourself of negative energy. You just have to put in the effort and commit to it every day. I will admit that I still have trouble and I am not where I need to be yet. But I know that if I keep working at it, that I will get there. Methods that are very helpful are:

Reframing your mindset. Ask yourself why you're feeling the way you are, control the way you react to certain situations, etc. When you have a negative emotion or thought pop up, allow yourself to feel it and breathe. Don't just dismiss it. Breathe through it. Breathing helps you release that energy. Once you teach yourself how to release those negative emotions, you can eventually learn how to prevent them from happening or prevent them from getting really bad.

Detachment! Detach yourself from energy that isn't yours! Set yourself as many boundaries as you need to protect your peace. Examples are situations where there are unnecessary arguments, uncomfortable vibes from other individuals, etc. If you receive an off feeling from a person, place, event, or anything else, say no and mean it. Always trust that "gut feeling" because from my experience, it never ever fails you. You can also set energetic boundaries too. If you are an empath, you can set boundaries where you can avoid processing other people's energies. Ask yourself which emotions are yours and which emotions are somebody else's.

Submerging yourself in water is very helpful in clearing out any negative energy that is attached to you. Water is a very powerful cleansing agent. Whether it's a bath, shower, ocean or a lake; being in water allows you to be more in tune with yourself. We are made of water so it only makes sense. As you submerge yourself, think of which energies you need to release.

Meditation is a powerful way to examine and pinpoint on where the negative energy is coming from. It takes a lot of focus and even more patience.

They say spending time in nature is the best medicine, and it is 100% true. The Earth is one of the most powerful energy healers that we have free access to. Grounding yourself heals you. Walk outside barefoot, breathe, listen and observe. Acknowledge and feel the earth's energy using all of your senses.

And the last one is affirmations. What we say to ourselves matters. If we put ourselves down, it's going to attract negativity and then we reflect that negativity onto others, and it creates nothing but chaos. Rather than saying negative things to yourself, say positive things instead. The more you speak positive to yourself, positive energy will replace negative energy. Negativity doesn't want to dwell in a positive mindset and spirit. Negativity is attached to negativity. Positivity is attached to positivity. So once you keep doing this and staying positive, negativity will stay away. Don't open a door for any negative energy to pass through. It's very easy to let in and very difficult to get out.

So take this however you need to and use it to your advantage. Sending light, love, prayers, and positive energy to everybody who needs it!

#spirituality #mindfulness #energy #spiritual energy #spiritualgrowth #spiritualawakening #spiritual knowledge #spiritual community #energyhealing #healing #self help #self awareness #meditation #inner peace #strength

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no-droids · 4 years ago

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Out of a Trillion

gif credit: @bestintheparsec

Part Fifteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.6K

Warnings: uhhhh so there is a bit of SMUT in this one, not too much and I imagine if you’ve made it this far then that won’t be too big of a deal LMFAOOO uh some ANGST and my attempt at HURT/COMFORT and also violence/blood/injury description, so look out for that!

A/N: I started writing this before the season finale aired and I know we all want a bit of goodness and softness after it, but hopefully this will be okay! I’ll start working on the next part tonight

***

Everything changes and yet somehow nothing does.

From that point on, it’s like… like you’re both just suspended in this perpetual state of wondering, waiting for the other shoe to drop. You know he said it’s up to you, but what the fuck? Look whenever you want? That’s way too much fucking pressure, he’s out of his mind. You’re not equipped to handle that, who does he think you are? Someone that can just… decide things?

And it’s not like you’re afraid of the commitment, or that you don’t want to look. You do, but every single time a moment comes, it just never… feels right. You don’t know what you’re waiting for, what feeling or meaning you’re expecting to magically present itself to you, but you can’t shake the idea that there should be more to it than just randomly deciding to open your eyes at some point, shouldn’t there? Din said there was no ceremony, nothing fancy, and he gave you permission to look because he said he’s not allowed to ask outright, whatever that means. It’s a standing offer because you guess he isn’t allowed to prompt it for some reason, but unfortunately, that leaves you in just about the shittiest position possible. Now everything falls to you—initiation, execution, and consequence—and Maker knows you’ve never been that great making decisions under pressure.

But you do want to look. Sort of.

Sort of. Because… well, this probably won’t make that much sense, but you’re afraid. Mostly for him. What if he’s making a mistake? It sounds stupid, but you’re afraid of what this means for him, the sheer perpetuity of this decision he’s now expecting you to make for the both of you. This isn’t your creed, not yet, and you feel like there’s still so much to learn. Not only about the Mandalorians and his culture, but about him. To know is to love, and so you’ve taken to asking any nonsensical question you can think of whenever he’s around. Though you weren’t expecting it at first, you’ve learned that he’ll always give you some sort of an answer. Some of the highlights include:

“How old are you?” (“I don’t know. Probably mid-forties, but there’s no way to tell anymore.”)

“You don’t know your birthday?” (No, I… think it was in the winter.”)

“What’s your last name?” (“Djarin.”)

“Do you have any freckles? Or moles, or birthmarks?” (“No, none that I’ve ever noticed.”)

“Do you cut your own hair?” (“Yes, but it’s been awhile.”)

“Do you have dimples?” (“I don’t smile in mirrors.”)

“Are your earlobes attached or detached?” (“What kind of question is that?”)

And so forth.

He also gives you so many fucking opportunities to look. One right after the other. You used to think Din was incredibly trusting with how often and voluntarily he decided to take his helmet off around you—he didn’t wait a single day once he first felt your hands on his skin to take it off in your presence. You remember being blown away by his unexpected willingness to part with it after hearing so many tales of the Mandalorians from Kuill; stunned by the ever-present ability to just open your eyes at any moment and that’s all it would ever take. One simple movement—life-altering, and so easy.

Now you find it nearly impossible, muscle memory just won’t allow it to happen naturally. And yet somehow, avoiding it is like stepping around land mines. He doesn’t trick you—he doesn’t set it up, he doesn’t surprise you or anything, but he’s… less careful. When the kid is awake, Din acts normal—he walks around fully armored, he goes on hunts and returns a few days later with a quarry, teaches you more self-defense techniques in the cleared out hull while the kid watches and giggles at your pain from the safety of his floating crib. But when the baby goes to sleep, he’s taken to lounging with the helmet off. He only used to remove it to eat, sleep, or… do other things with you, but he never used to take it off just… because. Now he does. Now he’s less careful about darkness, less strict about how much light he allows to touch him.

Now he shares every single meal he can with you, sitting just off to the side so you’ll never see him on accident but providing the free exercise thereof should you ever decide to seek it out purposefully. Now he interrupts you in the middle of your complaining about the bruises on your knuckles just to lift the rim of his helmet the slightest bit, lean down and give you a quick kiss, and then lower it back into position again before you can even catch a glimpse of the lips you only recognize by touch. Now he keeps the light on when he goes to take a shower, he leaves the door cracked.

It’s starting to give you heart palpitations, you swear. At one point, he lets you to see the entire back of his head and it nearly launches you into a fucking crisis.

It’s the middle of the night and he just got up from bed to use the restroom. He’s quiet enough not to wake you on the way over, but then across the hull and with his back to you, Din flicks the light on in the small bathroom without closing the door. Immediately rousing you after being so accustomed to the pitch blackness, you lift your head from the warmth of your shared pillow just enough to blearily make out the sight of him leaning a hand up against the wall and dropping his head down, and it takes you a second to realize that it’s actually him.

Soft, dark brown locks ending at his collar but somehow looking longer than you ever imagined when you’ve run your fingers through them. Cascading in shaggy, natural curls—tall, broad shouldered and trim waisted, naked as the day he was born. Your heart starts to squeeze in your chest and it just never stops, and for the second time in your life, you feel like he woke you up in the middle of the night just to show you one of the most beautiful things the universe ever decided to hide. There are trillions of people in this galaxy and how many of them have ever seen a sight that would compare? He’s just a man, you don’t think a single person would bat an eye. But to you, he’s… his own monument. Constructed in honor of everything dazzling that happens to lie just underneath something else. A breathtaking view, even from this angle, that could only ever mean something to you.

Would you ever be able to know him? No, that’s not phrased right. What you mean is that… over the course of all your time together, you remember thinking that if he ever took his helmet off, he could walk right by you and you’d never be able to tell the difference. He could be anybody. There are trillions of people in this galaxy and how many of them have the same features? Brown hair, brown eyes, sunkissed skin that only one person is allowed to kiss, not even the sun. Would you ever be able to know him?

Staring at his back in the blissful silence of hyperspace and feeling like the Maker himself is letting you in on one of his proudest secrets, some wild thought suddenly occurs to you that… you think you would. Somehow.

You can’t explain it and you’d never be able to prove it, but you feel like if you lined up every single person in this galaxy shoulder to shoulder, all however many trillions of them there are, then you could walk the entire length of it and somehow come to a stop right where he’s standing. Every single time. You feel like you could do it in the pitch black. You could do it with your eyes closed.

And, he must just be so gorgeous. Maybe not in a traditional sense (or maybe in one, you’d have no way of knowing), but mostly in just… the rawest sense imaginable. Not like how symmetry and straight lines are gorgeous, but how a mountain is gorgeous. Rocky, dangerous, steep, the product of constant conflict between two immovable sides. He’s got scars littering his body, one of which you remember giving him yourself with a cauterizer on his lower back. He holds himself like his shoulders could tell their own story if anyone ever asked them; built to endure, weighed down and made strong with a collection of burdens he chooses to strap to them, steel or otherwise.

You don’t want to close your eyes once Din slowly turns around to look at you, but it happens anyways and you’ve never been so disappointed in your own cowardice.

But then, in a way, it could just be your own self-preservation instincts taking over. No matter how stunning and life changing the spectacle would be, why would anyone ever stare directly at a supernova? For so long, you’ve told yourself that his face is something you shouldn’t ever see on principle, but in a way, you suppose it’s fair he put this decision on you because he always has, even from the very beginning. He trusted you to keep your eyes closed for months on end and you never had a problem with it, so why is it so hard to open them now that he’s given you permission?

A couple weeks of that, and you start to worry that you’re unintentionally rejecting him.

It’s the last fucking thing you want, but how can you avoid it? Din is… different, he notices. He’s made a living off of finding things that inherently don’t want to be found—he knows all too well what secrecy looks and sounds like, he’s quick and observant and you don’t stand a single fucking chance against him in all the years of his practice.

But strangely, for as often as you feel like you can figure out what he’s thinking without ever seeing his face—realizing what his intentions are ahead of time and not feeling slighted when he phrases things a certain way or just chooses not to speak at all—you never truly realized how much that extended back to you.

He knows you, too. He told you so.

For some reason, you didn’t even consider the possibility of it working just as well the other way around. That you could choose to stay silent, and he’d know why. You feel like the mystery of him just eclipses you in every single way that you don’t consider even yourself much of anything, much less something else to be contemplated and understood. While you wouldn’t necessarily qualify the conflict as not being ready to commit, he seems more than willing to respect it regardless and nothing about the way he treats you or interacts with you changes. Normally you’d say it’s like he forgot the whole thing ever happened, but it’s almost the exact opposite. Like he was just naturally expecting it from you.

Are you truly so predictable, you wonder? He said you’d say no. Was he right? You’re not saying no, you just… can’t remember the word for yes right now. It’s right there on the tip of your tongue and the harder you work for it, the more frustrated you become with your own inability to find it.

But, instead of waiting, you think Din just decides to continue the conversation with the promise to come back to you when you finally figure it out.

Sometimes, especially when he’s gone, you find yourself thinking about what moment you’d choose, if you could. Since you can never seem to find the right one naturally, how would it all go if you could construct everything yourself? Where would it be? Naboo? No, that’s too cheesy. One thing you and Din both have in common is your practicality, your respective propensities for wanting to tackle one thing at a time and not needing frills attached to something in order to find a deep connection to it, a personal value to it. You weren’t even bothered when he didn’t claim you as a girlfriend to Peli, that’s how reasonable you used to be about labels. Now you’re your own antithesis, trying to conjure meaning where there isn’t any just so you don’t feel like you’re the one who’s ripping it away. You want this decision to feel as permanent as it is. You want it to be a happy thing, something that happens when you’re both so in love that you can’t bear to have metal separating you any longer.

You think… you’ll just know it when the time comes.

***

“I have to leave,” comes Din’s hushed voice through the darkness, and even though it’s the first thing either of you have said in hours, it sounds frustrated. Like it’s been bothering him for awhile and he’s just now finally telling you. “I… fuck, I can’t stay here, I should’ve left a long time ago.”

You whine softly into the pitch black, turning your head into the pillow and curling your fingers into his hair. “But it’s still so early…”

“It’s mid-afternoon,” he groans back, dropping his forehead down against your skin and breathing hot air along it. “We’ve been parked here for hours, I don’t know how you can sleep so long.”

“I’m not sleeping,” you pout, before gently dragging your nails down his scalp and feeling his whole body shudder with it. “Earlier I was.”

“Mhm,” he murmurs, leaning down to give you one last long, slow kiss. You sigh when his tongue comes out and glides soft and hot against your lips, tightening your grip on his hair.

But soon he pulls away, lifting the covers from over his head and pushing up from between your spread legs. “This one shouldn’t take long,” he gruffs, planting both palms next to your head and kissing you once more in the darkness, dipping his tongue into your mouth this time. You moan softly and taste yourself on him, moving to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, but he breaks the kiss and leans back before you can, preemptively avoiding the possibility of getting lost in it. “I’ll be back around dawn.”

You’ve known it was coming for hours now, so you’re able to play it off way better this time around. “Okay,” you breathe softly, dragging your palms up his bare chest as he lifts himself tall over your body. The slight disappointment underneath is so masterfully hidden, you’re almost positive you’re going to get away with it. “Be safe. Please.”

But then… well. Bounty hunter.

Din pauses for a moment like that in between your open legs, letting you slowly slide your hands down his ribs and over the lines of his stomach. You wait for him to move, find his clothes so you can get around and make some food, wake the kid up from his nap in an hour or so. Can’t stay in bed all day, no matter how much you wish you could.

Only, he still hasn’t moved and you start to become concerned. “Din?”

But then he suddenly groans like he just can’t help it, grabbing both of your spread legs and easily lifting them up. You make a sound of confusion as he maneuvers them until they’re pressed together and draped over one of his shoulders, and then his hips drop and push forward to slide himself thick and perfect into your blazing hot cunt.

Still drenched and swollen from cumming in his mouth so many times earlier, you gasp and he just groans louder, a ragged thing scraping out of his throat while you struggle through blind and unexpected euphoria to reach him. But you can’t—Din hugs your legs tight to his chest and settles in just like this, turning his head to drag soft lips and a hot tongue over your ankle before he starts fucking you. Right up against your g-spot, with your whole lower body in the way and preventing you from slowing him down.

You just have to clap both hands over your mouth just to keep quiet since you can’t reach him. You feel his teeth sink into the meat of your calf, hips pistoning far beyond your reach and it feels so fucking good that you almost don’t hear his gritted words against your skin.

“I have to go,” he groans, repeating it over and over until his voice begins to pull tight and it just sounds like a plea. “I have to go, I have to go, I h—have to… h-have to go, I have to, I have to, I have…”

***

When Din finally steps foot out of the ship, fumbling with his rifle and cursing quietly through the modulator, it’s the middle of the night some twelve hours later.

***

Steady…

Steady………

Fire.

—and… you blink as bark splinters.

Did you…? You look down at the blaster in your hand and then back to the ginormous charred tree trunk for a few seconds, wondering if you’re just seeing shit.

No, it’s real. You actually fucking did it. You…

… hit the target.

All of a sudden, your ecstatic giggle echoes loudly throughout the foresty autumn wonderland around you, reds and oranges and yellows crunching under your feet while you start to dance.

“Hey! See that, bug!?” You call out, shoving the blaster into your waistband and shimmying up to your enthralled audience of one, who just so happens to be smiling as wide as you are as he’s scooped up into your arms. “I hit the target, I hit the target,” you sing, beginning to sway the baby back and forth as he squeals, laughing while you bounce him. “No demon powers necessary, little man! I figured it out, I just have to use one hand instead of two. You can retire now, you’re the right age for—”

A twig snaps in the distance somewhere to your left, and you quickly spin around while reaching for the blaster behind your back.

Except all you see is a blue Twi’lek standing out amongst all the fall foliage, his hands cuffed behind his back and stumbling a few steps at a time while a considerably taller suit of beskar shoves him forward. You relax and immediately turn to look down at the ground, trying to bite your lip so you don’t smile too hard while they both approach. You did it—finally, you did it, you’re on top of the fucking universe right now.

You wait for them to pass by and move up the open metal ramp to the carbonite chamber, but then Din apparently decides to pause when he’s directly behind you, yanking the quarry to a sudden halt.

You know you should probably turn around to address them, but you can’t hide the happiness from your expression, it’s way too obvious. Though, after a moment, you decide to shyly turn to face the two men while continuing to bounce the baby in your arms, hoping that his and your matching expressions of excitement aren’t too terribly inappropriate right now.

Din looks from you to the splintered bark on the tree, and then back to you again, before slowly tilting the helmet up in a way that feels… proud of you.

“Congratulations,” he finally says, and you can hear the genuine smile hidden in the modulated drawl.

“Thank you,” you beam up at him, feeling the blood rush to your cheeks. “Was pretty awesome.”

“I’m sorry I missed it,” he tells you, and you don’t know why, but the tone of his voice makes you go so warm. It’s not like he’s openly flirting with you, but coupled with your giddiness and sounding like that in front of a bounty he caught in record time, it just makes your heart fucking throb for him.

“It’s alright,” you murmur, shuffling your feet through the crunchy leaves below and trying to play it as cool as possible. You have company. “I’ll be able to do it again.”

“Let’s see it, then.” He tips the helmet over at the tree, and you look between him and the unfamiliar quarry for a second, not used to Din just… ignoring their existence entirely for you. It’s not like the Twi’lek has said anything or inserted himself into the situation at all, but still. Din has one hand latched onto the cuffs behind his back to prevent him from booking it, but other than that, it’s like he’s pretending he’s not even there.

“Uh…” You immediately feel yourself get nervous. “I can… try.”

He nods one single time in silent encouragement, and you slowly turn to face the tree once more. The kid stays cradled in your arm while you reach for the blaster in your waistband, removing it and using your longest finger to flick the safety off with a practiced fluidity. Then, extending it out in front of you and taking advantage of your newfound strategy of only firing with one hand, you line up the sight and pull the trigger.

You wish you could say it hits. It would be so fucking cool and impressive if you hit the target like that, wouldn’t it? But it doesn’t hit. It misses, like usual. Miserably. And then an amused snort comes from behind you.

“Right stormtrooper, you are—” you hear an unfamiliar accent begin to snark, but the rest of it turns into a garbled howl the second Din jerks his elbow back to slam it in his face.

You whip around just in time to see a cascade of blood pouring down blue lips and sharp teeth—holy fuck. You gasp and take a step backwards with the kid, not horrified by the sudden display of violence (not after Din spent an hour teaching you how to do that, too) but not quite expecting it at that moment, either. But then, well… that’s the second time he broke a quarry’s nose for addressing you with disrespect. There was that other one he choked, you’re pretty sure—though you can’t remember exactly what initiated that.

Din yanks the bounty up the ramp without another word, leaving both you and the kid there to process while he shoves him through the hull and towards the carbonite chamber none too kindly. However, by the time he seals the quarry to his fate and eventually makes his way back to you, you just…

Fuck, you feel so stupid.

You shouldn’t even bother, what’s the point? All that practice and nothing to show for it. If you can’t even hit a stationary target with the pressure of others watching, what makes you think you’ll have any hope at all in a situation where you actually need to shoot? Are they gonna stand still for you? Are they gonna be as wide as a fucking treetrunk? You’re horribly embarrassed, so downtrodden in the face of a cruel taunt that you don’t even want to look at Din when he steps in front of you.

“Hey, just try it again,” he says without delay, but the damage has already been done. It’s not his fault, you’re just… not the kind of person who is meant to shoot a blaster, maybe.

“Ah… it’s alright,” you look out and smile sadly at the line of trees surrounding you, wondering how it’s possible that you only managed to hit one of them this whole time. You don’t see it, but Din quickly touches the tips of his fingers to the side of his helmet twice before you look back at him. “I hit it earlier. I did, I promise. You can see the mark if you look.”

His glove reaches out to brush your hair back, so unbelievably gentle after using the same arm to shatter bone just a few minutes ago. “I know you did. It was a perfect shot, you hit dead center. I see it.”

“I did it with one hand, that’s why I tried the thing,” you mumble stupidly, looking down at your feet. Dumb. Dumb.

A strand of your hair is tucked behind your ear. “Wish I was here.”

You glance over at him, feeling your expression suddenly go soft with a wave of affection. It stops all the harsh criticisms, halting your negativity in its tracks and replacing it with just… soft, abstract things. Mostly just warm, nonsensical fluff, but one clear and resounding thought breaking through. You wish he was here, too.

“Maybe I’ll get good at it eventually,” you sigh, slowly handing him the blaster with the barrel pointed down and away from both of you. Din carefully takes it from you, tucking it away somewhere on his utility belt while you gaze out at the designated target and victorious char mark decorating it. “Or hopefully just okay at it at some point. I guess I just need to practice more, right?”

“That’s right,” he tells you warmly, catching your free wrist. “Try using this one when you do.” And then a lightweight piece of metal is gently pushed into your empty hand.

Your expression furrows while you quickly look down at it, and—

You go utterly still at the gift, not even knowing what to think.

The first thing that you notice is the craftsmanship. Brilliant, structurally flawless, the perfect size to fit your hand. You don’t recognize the specific kind of metal that was used—definitely not beskar—but you think it might be constructed from the same material as Din’s old armor. Dull silver, but with reflective chrome filigree accents around the handle, trigger, and safety. It’s uniquely constructed and unlike any weapon you’ve ever seen before—no hard lines or edges, just a soft fluidity to the design that’s so aesthetically pleasing, it doesn’t really even resemble a blaster at all.

You can feel the visor silently studying your reaction while you continue marveling, noticing something new every time you look. The safety is towards the back of the chamber, just like he said it’d be. The sight is electronic, and you examine the way it’s built directly into the barrel.

Are those extra magnets on the inside? Is this able to micro-adjust the plasma release for the best shot? Holy stars, it must have cost a fortune.

“Din, this is…” you can’t decide where you want to look—the gorgeous crafting, the custom design, or him. Standing so close to you, not saying a word while you search for the right ones. “It’s so beautiful, I…”

“Was made for you,” he murmurs. “Had to be.”

You look back down at the blaster to stop your eyes from tearing up. He didn’t have to do this. This is so… sweet, such a lovely thing to do. Don’t cry, don’t cry—

“What is this?” You ask breathlessly instead, rotating the gun until he can see the symbol branded on the handle. You recognize that it’s his signet, but you never bothered to ask him what it’s called, you never saw it as your place. It’s an animal of some sort, one with a giant spike attached to its skull, and you’re glad you’ve never come face to face with one.

“It’s a mudhorn,” he answers quietly. “They’re… dangerous animals. Fiercely protective, preferring solitude. The kid saved me from one a few days after I met him. It’s… the mark of my clan.”

How fitting, you think, and an honor. Perfect for him, and a bone-deep reminder of your two favorite people in the galaxy on your hip wherever you go.

“Thank you,” you tell him, hoping the sincerity in your voice sounds anywhere close to how you feel. You haven’t even had it in your hand for longer than a minute and it’s already your prized position, the most important thing you’ve ever called yours.

Din nods and takes a small step back. “Now hit the target.”

Feeling invigorated and renewed in every single way, you keep the kid tucked firmly in one arm while raising your blaster with the other. The safety clicks off and your back straightens, chin lifting until something about the angle feels… right. The trigger moves easily under your fingertip, and there’s almost no kickback considering how light the weapon is. What you’re not expecting is the pure white beam of plasma shooting out of the barrel—unlike any blaster you’ve ever seen before—but then the immediate sight of it hitting the tree dead center sends a roar of triumph through your ears. Fuck yes.

“Look at that!” Din calls out over the kid’s happy squeal, and there’s nothing you can do to stop your loud whoop of victory. Even though you know it only hit with the addition of those extra magnets to correct your terrible aim, that still feels so good—you feel so fucking powerful and dangerous. You glance over to Din with a wide smile, but then his arm extends out towards the trunk directly next to the one with charred bark. “Hit that one.”

You automatically swing the blaster in that direction and shoot. A few pieces of wood split on impact and send sharp bits flying as soon as the bright white beam collides with it.

“That one,” Din tells you, and then bark splinters a half second later. “That one.” Bark splinters. “That one, that one, that one—” hit, hit, hit, white plasma flying through the air and bark splintering in rapid succession.

He stops and spins around, pointing to a tree at the very edge of the clearing. “That one?”

It’s furthest away but the trunk’s diameter is enormous. As you lift the blaster, you know you’re likely to get it easily with this sophisticated weapon, even across the considerable distance. So instead, feeling like nothing at all can touch you right now and wanting to see how smart the aim mechanism is, you raise up a few degrees higher before pulling the trigger. Pale plasma launches from the barrel, and then one of the tree’s most prominent branches comes creaking and crashing to the ground right where you split it.

You’re beaming by the time Din turns back to you, the most excited you’ve ever been with your own progress. He holds there for a moment while you lower your blaster and wait for him to speak, both of you looking at each other and not moving, until suddenly you hear his voice coming back to you.

Hit the target and I’ll marry you.

One of Din’s hands slowly comes up to the edge of his helmet, but before you can even process the implication behind the gesture, you’re immediately looking down at the crunchy leaves under your feet and clearing your throat.

There’s a beat of silence where you stare down at the dead foliage and wonder why the fuck you just did that. Right in front of him, right to his face, too startled at how quickly you were being confronted with the possibility that you responded in an equally startled way. It was instinctual, automatic and entirely out of your control, but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to take it back.

But… you can’t take it back. That’s the way things are, and after a few moments, you hear his boots begin to cross the distance to you.

“Come on,” Din murmurs gently through the modulator, carefully taking the blaster from your hand and clicking the safety back on again. “We have to get going. The fifth quarry is far. Three day trip through hyperspace.”

He doesn’t sound upset or disappointed by your unintentional rejection, thank the Maker. You want to explain yourself somehow, but it appears it isn’t necessary in the slightest. His arm wraps around your lower back and he leads both you and the baby back up the open ramp of the Crest, squeezing you close enough to his side that you have to learn how to walk in a different way to stop yourself from tripping over his boots.

The helmet turns and presses to the top of your head while you focus on moving straight. “Proud of you,” Din murmurs quietly, and your chest fills with enough air that you’d be worried about floating away if he wasn’t latched onto you so tightly.

He eventually releases you and walks over to the armory, pressing a button to unlock the doors while you hold the kid and watch him start to remove the multitude of weapons strapped to his body.

Maybe… maybe this isn’t the right time, but something brave surges up inside you. After receiving the most precious gift imaginable from him, hitting all those targets and hearing him say that he’s proud of you, you’re buzzing with just enough energy that for better or worse, it makes you open your mouth and ask.

“Could I… come with you this time?”

Din nearly jerks upright and looks over at you immediately, but he takes a while in responding. You hope he sees it in your eyes. You hope he sees just how much you don’t want to be stuck here again when this is possibly the one time you’d be able to tag along. It’s a bullshit quarry, one he could do in his sleep, and you’ve been getting increasingly restless while stuck on this ship.

When Din eventually does respond… well, judging from his shift in tone, you’re assuming he was just shocked at the question and didn’t take any of that time to actually consider his answer.

“No.” Short. Unfeeling, and not sorry about it in the slightest, before turning back to return the blasters you were using previously to the armory as if you said nothing at all.

Okay… Um. Not great, not what you wanted to hear, but maybe if you explain yourself better, he’ll listen.

“I just… I’m the only reason you have to get this quarry in the first place.” Your voice is quiet, trying to let go of some of the concerns you’ve kept to yourself over the past two weeks. Your fingers fiddle idly with the kid’s little woolen sack as he hangs out in your arms, wanting to plead your case but feeling slightly nervous now. “You were out having a crazy expensive blaster made for me while I shook hands with Karga and agreed that you’d take more work for less pay. I hate that I did that.”

“You had no choice,” Din mutters, turning around and striding past you while pressing a button on his vambrace to close the Crest’s ramp. “My fault for being late.” And… for as warm and comforting as his voice sounded earlier, it now just sounds… dismissive. Aloof. Half-listening, not really wanting to talk but forcing himself to.

“Well this time, I thought maybe… I might be able to help? Maybe?” Maker, you feel yourself going quieter the more he walks around the hull and ignores you. “Karga said it was just a missing person, not even a criminal…”

“Karga says a lot of things,” he grunts with his back to you, voice completely monotone through the modulator.

Come on, speak up. You’ve lacked a backbone for so long, you’ll never get what you want unless you say it out loud and let it be known. You take a deep breath and straighten your shoulders, trying to put a little bit of spine into it. “I can be useful. I can fight now, I’ve been working on my—”

“You think I’m telling you no because I don’t think you’re capable?” He suddenly whips around, voice ringing sharp and challenging throughout the hull while you freeze. You don’t move but everything about you suddenly feels like it shrinks.

“I-I didn’t—” But he cuts you off, taking a step forward.

“I know you can fight, a Mandalorian taught you how. I know you’re useful, I know it’s just a missing person, and I know you hate it when I leave.” He pins you with his eyes through the visor, his tone harder than you think you’ve ever heard it before. “No. Your job is to stay here, on this ship, with my son, where it is safe, and my job is to go get the quarry. Quit asking. I’m not telling you again.”

The baby makes a tiny little distressed sound in your arms and you blink a few times up at the cold metal, feeling all the good feelings from before just… drain out of you.

Okay, that’s fine. Uh. You… the cockpit is behind you, you’ll go up there and fly then. No reason, just… he should get going.

“Okay, yeah,” you nod and tell the wall over his shoulder brace in immediate agreement, before abruptly spinning around and grabbing the ladder. Din doesn’t move a single fucking muscle while you try to find your way up to the cockpit with the baby held to your chest and a dead stone sitting heavy inside of it, hoping your face doesn’t show the vulnerability you feel wanting to take over as you retreat. Get to the cockpit first, get to the cockpit first, get to the—

“Sweet girl, I…” you barely hear murmured through the helmet from the floor, soft enough to sound slightly shocked, but you scramble into the cockpit and shut the door behind you before he can say anything else.

***

Silence didn't used to feel like this.

At first it was eerie, unnatural and stifling when you spent years in a wide open desert, wind swirling and dust pelting. It suffocated you the first few times you jumped into hyperspace, a phenomena you read all about and considered mathematically fascinating before ever experiencing for yourself. It was… foreign and strange, but you began to value it more and more as time passed.

Then, you started to get to know him and silence just became comforting. Something you could bask in, knowing it was a comfort to him. A choice he made because it just fit him best. You felt safe in it, you felt like you didn’t have to be anything else but you. You never had to break it just to avoid awkwardness, you became… closer to it, until you learned to fall in love with it.

But only when he was with you and it was his silence. Not… everything else’s. Now it’s haunting again. Now the sheer lack of sound through hyperspace is a stranger to you, and the distortion of light surrounding the cockpit feels less about the sheer magnificence of manipulating space time and more about the fundamental disconnect it causes. Gorgeous, but at its core, a severance. Ripping the fabric of the universe apart, tearing a wound in it.

It’s been a few hours and nothing exceptional has happened since your conversation in the hull.

You’ll admit that you’re a sensitive person, and because of that, you’ve always had a problem knowing if you were right or wrong when someone comes at you with a hard enough will. You second-guess yourself, it’s one of your worst traits, and you feel like trying to squash that tendency without knowing the limit is partially to blame for why you’re holed up in this cockpit with the kid. You’re quiet but in a different way from Din. When he doesn’t speak, it’s because most of the time, he’s sure of himself and doesn’t need to. When you don’t speak, it’s because most of the time, you’re insecure and don’t want to.

After being left alone with your thoughts for this long, you’re starting to realize that… he was right. What were you thinking, wanting to tag along? Wanting to hang out while he risks his life for this occupation, you probably sounded so fucking ignorant. Maybe… maybe he didn’t have to say it like that, but his point is still very valid and you’re not sure if you’re really justified in hiding like this anymore.

The way he said… your job, though. That still stings a bit. This hasn’t felt like an actual job in a very long time. Was that just an expression, or did he mean it literally? You’re stuck on it, you’ve just been going over this for hours in your head, trying to figure out if you should be the one to apologize or not—or if this is just you overreacting from the start and no apologies will be necessary at all.

“Sorry you got stuck with me, kid,” you mutter sadly to the baby, watching him fiddle with his favorite metal ball in your lap. He makes a little gurgle, purring in that weirdly adorable little way of his and it somehow feels like a reassurance directed to you that he’s just fine the way he is.

Maker, you haven’t heard anything from the hull in a fucking eternity; it’s like Din turned into a ghost, hasn’t even made a single footstep that you could hear since you last left him standing there. You remember performing a quick flight check as soon as you got up here, lifting off as fast as you could and hoping the thrusters would rumble loud enough to cover your series of pitifully shallow sniffles at being yelled at unexpectedly by a very large and intimidating man, not really crying but not really able to breathe normal either. The little monster was able to wiggle himself around in your lap as you were trying to punch in the correct coordinates for the fifth quarry with rapidly blinking, watery eyes, and then proceeded to give your belly the smallest hug you think you’ve ever been given and pretty much break your heart with it.

Lovely little boy, so sweet when he wants to be. He’s sat with you this whole time, he even tried giving you his metal ball to play with but ultimately decided to keep it to himself when he realized you aren’t nearly as fascinated by it as he is. You know it’s probably getting late for him, and you’ve been weighing the idea of handing him over to his father so he can at least get a good night’s sleep somewhere that isn’t your arms. There’s no blankets in here, just your lap.

“I think I gotta go take you to your dad soon, tiny. He’s probably missing you,” you tell him, trying to keep quiet enough that you won’t disturb Din in the hull. There’s a good chance he’s already asleep. “I think… he might still be mad at me. Maybe you can give him the big eyes, soften him up a little?”

Right on cue, his enormous eyes start to droop closed, and you let out a tired sigh of exasperation. That’s not gonna work, come on. They gotta be open, booger.

You watch him slowly drift to sleep, his ears relaxing until they too start to droop, but when you try to take the ball from him and set it down on the console, his eyes immediately pop back open and the toy slips from your fingertips. It levitates right back into his tiny hands as you watch, and then he closes his eyes once more while tightly cuddling the thing he loves most to his body.

Unbelievable.

He’s a child, and yet he’s…

“How are you so strong?” You ask him, unable to even fathom. “You’re the smallest, most helpless little thing I’ve ever seen and you’ve got such… strength. You defy the universe for a piece of metal.”

He doesn’t hear you, you think he’s asleep again. It’s just as well, you figure. He needs to go sleep in his crib, it’s time. You scoop him up and make sure the little ball stays tucked snugly in his arms, before finally standing up and stumbling over to the door on numb legs.

Only, when it slides open, you quickly stop short.

Because there, sitting on the floor and resting his helmet against the corner of this small little platform leading to the ladder, is the Mandalorian.

So much closer than you expected him to be. So big, crammed into such a tiny place. You didn’t hear his footsteps climbing the ladder, and you would’ve noticed it during the hours you’ve spent in the suffocatingly muted quiet of hyperspace. He can be silent but not when absolutely nothing else exists and he’s got a thousand fucking pounds of steel weighing him down at any moment in time. You took off almost immediately once you barricaded yourself inside the cockpit, so has he… did he follow you up in those last few seconds, right after you shut the door? The ones when you were sniffling like a child and trying desperately to turn the thrusters on before you let the tears come?

His head lifts and his back straightens as you’re looking down at him with his sleeping son cradled in your arms, your eyes slightly redder than they should be. You’re a mess and… he’s been here this whole time?

“Could you hear me in there?” You whisper in sudden mortification, but Din just keeps gazing up at you through the impenetrable metal visor. A complete mystery again. Unreadable—he could be anyone.

When he doesn’t answer you, your heart twists with the possibility that he’s still upset with you, and you quickly turn to the ladder to figure out the best way to get down without jostling the baby.

“I’m sorry.” His voice stops you dead in your tracks. It’s so soft, nearly flipping in and out of the modulator from the lack of volume, the most cautious sounding thing you’ve ever heard coming through the filter. “I… hurt your feelings. I’m sorry.”

And… Maker, if anybody else had said it. If literally anybody else had said it, you know it would’ve sounded like the most sarcastic, dickish remark in such a delicate moment. But, you also remember him telling you once that you were tenderhearted. That the galaxy would never be as kind to you as you are to it. This… comes out sounding like he’s trying to change that.

It comes out sounding like he’s trying to use his voice to hold you because he doesn’t think you want to be touched right now. Like… like he’s doing everything he can to be as careful as possible here because you think he might be attempting to do something he’s never done before. Apologize for saying something he didn’t mean.

“You don’t have to,” you quickly tell him. He’s not good with words and apologies are difficult enough to phrase for normal people, you don’t want him to fret over it if that’s what this is. “It’s okay, I know you’re not… you don’t have to. It was stupid of me to ask.”

“It wasn’t,” he instantly counters, his voice finally seeming to find the floor when it was just hovering before. Not loud—still gentle, still making sure the kid doesn’t wake up and you’re not frightened away, but a bit more grounded this time. “It wasn’t… what I wanted to hear, and I didn’t take it well. Not stupid.”

“It was stupid,” you return amicably, looking down at your feet. “That’s not my… job, like you said.”

Din suddenly hangs his helmet down to his chest, pressing his gloves to the part that curves over his forehead and rubbing it. “Shit. I didn’t mean—”

“You were right,” you acknowledge, having spent the past few hours coming to the understanding that it’s the hard truth and he just phrased it poorly. “I’m not… built for it, I’d only get in your way. I barely just managed to shoot stationary targets with a blaster today, and that’s only with that aim corrector built into the barrel. I’m here to be helpful, not—”

“What are you saying?” He suddenly lifts the beskar to study you, sounding genuinely confused. “What aim corrector?”

That… makes you pause.

“The, uh…” Now you’re confused. “The one that adjusts the plasma release on the gun you gave me.”

He doesn’t move an inch or say a single thing to you in response and you awkwardly shuffle your feet for a second, everything so quiet that you can hear every little snore that goes in and out of the kid’s tiny button nose.

You blink at him after way too long of that, not knowing why he still hasn’t said anything. “There’s an electronic sight and like a bazillion extra magnets packed into the barrel, Din, what else could—”

“Sweet girl, that’s… that’s for the Philithiorium,” Din breathes out, like he’s absolutely blown away by you right now. “That gas is less stable than normal canisters, it takes more magnets to focus the white beam without overheating the metal.”

You stare at him, not truly processing. He’s saying that… you made all those shots today without any help at all? By yourself?

Your eyebrows furrow and you blink a few times, but then his slow, heavy sigh echoes throughout the metal walls with disappointment… and you don’t think it’s directed towards you.

“You’re just… always so unsure of yourself.” He sounds genuinely distraught as his helmet tips down to look at the ground. “I made that worse today.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you quickly shake your head, your chest already beginning to loosen slightly by just being around him, hearing his voice, seeing the metal glint under the fluorescent light overhead when he’s in such a vulnerable position on the floor. “It’s okay, let’s just… pretend neither of us said anything at all, okay?”

“Is that what you really want?” He asks you after a moment of quiet, and for some reason, you hear something in your mind tell you that his arms look so nice right now, don’t they? You could fit right there, perfect and safe again.

“Yeah, it’s fine,” you smile at him, feeling a bit of the ache trapped inside you continue to work itself out little by little. You’ll be back to normal soon, it’s fine.

“No, I mean… do you really want to come with me?” Din asks you, the words sounding cautious. Confused, like he truly never expected the proposition from you at all. “Or… do you just not want me to go?”

Oof, what a fucking question.

Why would he ask this? It’s not pointed; it’s the softest, gentlest inquiry you’ve ever been posed. Maybe in other circumstances, you’d say that him leaving doesn’t have anything to do with it, but… you’re certain that internally, it absolutely does have at least something to do with it and he was just able to know it before you did. Which is probably why his sharp words seemed all the more cutting earlier. It hurt because he said the truth first, verbalized a very deep insecurity you’ve been trying to hide from him and threw it right in your face when shutting you down.

Though, if it worked differently and you were the one who had to be away while he stayed here, you’d like to think you’d handle it way better than how it is now. At least you’d have a real mission to focus on, new things to see and experiences to have. You just feel… confined sometimes.

You take a deep breath and figure you’ll use sitting down as an excuse to think for a second. There’s practically no room but you find it in the back of the cockpit near the doorframe anyways, doing your best to keep the kid level while you slowly lower yourself to the ground near him. Not touching him, but close.

“I just… I lived my whole life stuck in one spot, wanting to see the galaxy,” you finally admit to him, staring at his chestplate but seeing the helmet tilt slightly in your peripheral. “Sometimes it’s just… hard to see the galaxy and still be stuck in one spot, I guess.”

“…You want an adventure,” Din proposes quietly, and though there’s not a single hint of mockery in his voice, you suddenly feel like it’s really fucking dumb when he phrases it like that. What are you, an eight year old? Wanting to go on an adventure, see things you’ve never seen without any concept for real life? Credits? Time? Resources?

You shrug a shoulder to make it seem like it’s no big deal. Why is he even entertaining this right now? “It’s stupid, I kn—”

“Like on Naboo,” he goes on, ignoring your harsh self-criticism, not allowing you the ability to even get it out once he heard the first couple words. “Going through the forest, seeing that waterfall. Someplace to find for yourself. Explore. Experience.”

You… you want it so badly that you think your eyes might tear up just hearing the words coming out of his mouth when he says them like that. Like he… just inherently understands. He knows.

He knows you. He’s not good with words and yet he found the single most succinct way to put what you thought was a complex yearning without even trying. You can’t even answer him, he hit the target dead on and you’re left with nothing to say that wouldn’t just be a miserable lie.

“Okay,” Din says after a moment, giving you a small nod.

You’re lost now. “…Okay?”

“You’re never going on a hunt with me,” he tells you very seriously, no room for arguing. “Ever. And not because you can’t handle it, understand?” He inhales, quickly adding on to his response before you’re able to analyze it the way you want to. “But if you want an adventure, then… I can try and find a way to give you one.”

Stars. He’s… too kind. You somehow feel like it’s more than you deserve. You were honestly hoping to just shadow him on a hunt, watch him work and stay well out of the way when he needs you to. Helping if you think you’d be of any help; an extra set of eyes and hands. You would’ve been fine even if he didn’t apologize for raising his voice at you, he doesn’t have to do this for you.

“Thank you,” you say for the third time today, feeling like each one has somehow multiplied in sincerity.

“It can’t be right now,” he quickly tells you, apologetic but earnest about it. “I have to find the quarry, and I’m supposed to meet with Karga again in a week.”

You never did let him know about the other part of the deal you made with Karga, you admit. Four pucks, no hassling, no hard time constraints. That’s what you shook on, but you just never found a way to bring it up to Din. Especially since you’ve been so preoccupied with hiding your growing disappointment from him whenever he has to go.

“If…” you pause, wondering the best way to phrase this. Yikes, this is a toughie. “Um. If Karga… I don’t know, hypothetically, if Karga decided to loosen the time constraints back to the way they were before the Corellian bounty, would you… still need to meet with him again in a week?”

You don’t think he even bothers shuffling through all those words. “Say what you mean. Please.”

“That was part of the deal I struck with him,” you quickly explain. “You can hunt on your own timetable again and he’ll keep giving you four pucks like before, no more or less after this one extra quarry. It’s like a… replacement of sorts, for the one I kept you from getting the time before. If credits aren’t an issue, you can take more than a week. But only if you want to, you don’t have to. It’s just there and you should know, that’s all.”

He takes his time responding, lifting his helmet just the slightest bit in… surprise? Maybe?

“You never told me you did that,” Din finally murmurs.

“Ah. Well.” You look down at the sleeping kid in your arms. “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to… keep you here.”

It genuinely is a struggle for you, and you think he’s just now realizing that. As much as you know he gets frustrated with you for always wanting him to be here when he physically can’t be, you think it’s only now that he’s truly realizing the lengths you go to in order to stomp that part of you down whenever you feel it threatening to come up. You allowed him to leave every single time without telling him he could stay, knowing that all that was left for you was babysitting and target practice for days on end.

“Will you come over here?” Din finally asks, and the tone of his voice just punches you in the chest. So soft, so distressed from having you so close yet so far from him and just… full of a quiet hope, like he’s fully expecting you to say no.

“Will we fit?” You whisper after a moment, even quieter.

He doesn’t answer, he just reaches for you. You do your best to scoot over to him without waking the kid, and then Din pulls you the rest of the way once he has a grip. You go right into his arms, laying sideways across his lap and supported by his steel embrace.

Oh, it’s not comfortable but you’ve also never been more fucking comfortable. One of his knees lifts and allows you to rest your back against it without worrying about falling over sideways and down the ladder to the hull, thank the Maker. The beskar pauldron over his shoulder digs into your cheek, but Din immediately pushes an arm up to nudge his helmet off and make it better for both of you. Your face automatically fits into the crook of his neck while he sets the beskar on the bend of his knee, and then he silently cradles you while you do the same to his little boy… who does the same to his favorite metal ball.

“Ni tar’tayl su,” he murmurs into your hair, the one phrase in Mando’a you do recognize, especially with how beautiful and elegant it sounds rolling off his tongue. “Forgive me. Ni ceta.”

You sigh your contentment and melt into him, well aware that you’d still be more comfortable in bed. But when you’re pressed hard against his chest like this and the baby is fast asleep in your arms, you get to feel both of them breathing. Din’s right lung is probably bigger than the kid’s whole entire body, but you like the radically different cycles they go through. You think you count six full breaths coming from the brown sack in your palms for every one of Din’s and two of yours. It creates the most beautiful little symphony that sometimes gets a little off track, but always finds its way back around again.

“How do you say…” You ask, feeling his hand slowly move down the curve of your spine, mindless and hypnotic. It catches the edge of your shirt and goes underneath, and even though it’s not his bare hand and there’s no skin to skin, it still feels so good. Not sexual or sensual even, just… a comfort to you. “In Mando’a, how do you say… out of a trillion?”

Din’s breaths pause for just a second, his portion of the synchronized rhythm faltering. Soon it starts back up, and his head turns to press his lips against your hair.

“I don’t think there’s a word for it,” he admits, gently brushing a thumb across the baby’s forehead while he snoozes. “There could be, but I don’t know it. I’d use… out of a million million millions. Dayn alanyc bal alanyc bal alanyci.”

Your eyes begin to drift closed, exhausted from keeping them open after shedding a few tears earlier. Your first fight and you’re already completely in love with him again after a handful of hours of sulking and one conversation. How is that possible? You’re normally a very forgiving person and it wouldn’t have taken much to make you feel better, you just never expected him to… actually want it from you that badly, care enough about it to get on the floor and ask.

Din doesn’t move the entire night through. You assumed he’d make everyone get up at some point and move to the hull, but he doesn’t. You fall asleep against his chest, comforted by the silence once again.

***

The next morning, Din quietly climbs into the cockpit while you’re humming in the shower. You’re too busy basking in the indoor rainfall to feel the ship pull out of hyperspace, and then jump back into it a few moments after.

***

“How long do you think you’ll be this time?” You ask two days later, sitting on the extended flattop of Din’s old cot and swinging your legs back and forth. The baby is currently sitting on your lap and trying to roll the metal ball down your knee so you’ll kick it in the air, you think, because he keeps dropping it at different moments and forcing you to stop moving your legs to prevent accidentally denting a wall. Every time the ball clatters to the floor, he makes a sad sound and it immediately lifts back up into his tiny hands for another try.

Heavy boots clang against the metal floor as Din drops down from the ladder, having just landed the Crest on the surface of whatever planet you’re on. “I’m not leaving yet.”

“Oh…” You blink, surprised. “Okay.”

“I wanted to do some more training with you first, if that’s okay. You can say no if you want, but maybe not,” Din drawls, striding over to the armory and opening it. He carefully removes your blaster from the front shelf, speaking with his back to you. “You’re going to run.”

“Um.” You take a moment to glance around the enclosed hull, before turning to look back at him with your eyebrows raised. “What, like… in place?”

Din sighs and closes the armory before leaning back against the doors, rubbing the face of the helmet in exasperation. “From me, sweet girl.”

Your legs stop swinging, and the baby grumbles and slaps three fingers against your knee. “What?”

“We’re on Sanctuary II,” he explains, turning to grab his black bag from one of the storage shelves. He unzips it and reaches back into one of the larger pockets on his utility belt, before grabbing a handful of credits and stuffing them inside. “It’s a moon, the New Republic occupied it years ago and made it a safe world for refugees and orphans of the Empire. You’ll have your blaster, some credits, a communicator, and a day head start. You’re going to run from me. Show me how much you’ve learned.”

Is… he for real?

Right now? You don’t even know how to respond, you’re too surprised. Even when Din approaches and carefully trades the kid for your blaster, setting the bag down next to you on the metal bed, you still haven’t answered him.

“If you want?” He asks after a moment, and you quickly jerk your head into a nod and jump off the raised platform, almost knocking into him with your sudden excitement.

“Okay! Fuck yeah,” you grin, but Din shakes his head.

“Rules,” he says seriously, and you quickly do your best to frown, trying to compose your thrilled expression to match his tone. “One. This is a safe world, but things can always happen. You have a blaster now, but it’s for emergencies only. Do not shoot me with it. Do you understand?” You nod, but Din reaches forward to grab your elbow. “Out loud, please. For me.”

“I will not shoot you with this blaster,” you vow obediently, carefully cradling the precious firearm in your hands.

“Do not shoot me,” he repeats while pointing a leather finger at you. “Do not… shoot at me. Near me. Around me. No, just—don’t shoot. Unless I am… very far away. Okay?”

Well, he didn’t have to phrase it like that. You frown, but acquiesce regardless. “I will only resort to blastering if it’s an emergency and you are not around.”

He nods a thank you for putting it into better words. “Second rule. Since you don’t have a ship, I won’t either. We’re on foot. I don’t doubt you can hotwire a piece of junk to do what you need it to do, but I’d prefer it if you didn’t. Good?”

Entirely accurate and entirely fair. “Good.”

“Three,” he says. “I’ll have the kid with me, which is both good and bad news for you. Good news is he’ll slow me down, bad news is I can’t promise he won’t also try to intervene at some point if you’re serious about putting up a decent fight. What I can promise is that I won’t encourage it.”

“Reassuring,” you nod. “Also not really a rule. Please continue.”

“Four.” He pauses for a second. “I think I’m wanted by the New Republic.”

You nearly jerk back. “What?”

“I can’t confirm it and I’m not proud of it,” Din quickly tells you, probably the vaguest possible explanation he could provide. “I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it. I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.”

Is he fucking serious? “I don’t want you to be arrested, Din, I—”

“I won’t be,” he assures you. “They owe me one, I just don’t want to cash in yet. Trust me.”

You… do. Insanely, and against every logical thought flittering through your head, you do. If you were ever going to bet money that someone would be able to navigate a safe world on foot without being caught by the numerous officers scattered across the surface, then you’d put all your credits on Din Djarin. It… also shouldn’t really surprise you at all that the people seeking his incarceration also owe him a favor, should it? It actually sounds right on par for him. “Okay.”

“Fifth, and this one is important, so listen up,” he continues gruffly. “You check in with me tonight over the e-comm, alright? I don’t care where you are or how safe this planet is, if you don’t check in, I’ll come find you before the sun rises. Say you understand me.”

“I understand you,” you tell him, your heart beginning to pound in your chest at the reality of this actually happening. “I’ll check in tonight.”

“And if,” he goes on, “by some miracle, you manage to make it more than a full day, you check in with me tomorrow night, too. Say it.”

“I will check in with you every single night for the full five days it’ll take you to find me,” you assert, the adrenaline starting to make you brash and giddy.

Din tilts his helmet at you sternly. It is a very, very stern tilt. “Okay. New plan, forget everything I just said.”

Your expression furrows. “What’s the new plan?”

“That is the new plan,” he says, dead serious. “Us. Not doing this.”

“Oh, come on,” you grin cheekily up at him, poking his chestplate. “I’m just giving you some motivation to find me quicker, that’s all.”

Din stares down at you, and… yeesh. Tough crowd.

“Tell you what,” he finally grunts, sounding incredibly unamused with your jesting. “If you can last that long with only a day head start, I’ll let you come with me to collect the fifth quarry. You can even cuff the bastard yourself.”

You know it’s just because he’s rightly confident in his own deadly skill, but hearing him propose the possibility still shoots a thrill down your spine. “Oh ho, you are gonna regret saying that, shiny,” you beam up at him, starting to hop back and forth on each foot with excitement.

“But if I’m able to find you, you can’t ask me ever again,” he finishes shortly, and you immediately go still in front of him.

“What?”

“If I’m able to find you in five days, I don’t want to hear about you coming with me on a hunt and you can’t ever ask me not to go on one,” Din tells you, his voice rough and gravelly through the modulator. Not mean or harsh, but firm. “From now on, it’ll be off-limits.”

You… take a moment, not knowing if you should feel scolded or not. When you don’t immediately say anything in response, he sighs and turns the helmet away from you.

“Leaving is hard enough as it is,” he mutters, looking at the ground. “Hearing you ask… makes it impossible.”

You slowly lower your gaze to the floor as well, feeling your heart constrict tight in your chest. There’s a real pull under his voice, telling you that information even though it sounds like he doesn’t really want to admit it out loud. It… really is a struggle for him too, then. You understand.

“Okay,” you nod. There’s not a single part of you that actually thinks you’ll be able to stay hidden from him for five days while stuck on foot, so this is essentially a given. You’re not thrilled about the idea, but you’re going to do your best to respect it nonetheless, especially if he cares enough to put off hunting and allow you this experience for yourself. It’s a better compromise than you ever imagined, and you’ll do everything you can to hold up your side of the bargain.

Din clears his throat and straightens his spine, turning the visor until it faces you head on once more. “Final rule. I reserve the right to break any rule we just agreed to, or any fucking rule in this galaxy to keep you safe. Good?”

Your cheeks flush with heat, your stomach suddenly filling with butterflies. He doesn’t do that. Din says what he says or he doesn’t say anything at all, there’s no… taking things back, he’s already breaking his own code.

“What happened to The Way says no take-backs?” You ask quietly.

“This is my way,” he answers you. Quick, not even taking a moment to think about it, before pulling out a fancy looking wristwatch thing and clipping it on you himself. “This is your communicator. It takes more power than the one you have now but it’ll reach a further distance. I have one just like it, they’re locked into the same frequency and timesynced together, and the batteries need to be charged every three days. If you make it that long, I’ll remind you.” Din grabs the bag while you slide your arm into it, helping you hook it around your shoulder with one hand while he cradles the kid in his other. Your heart is pounding now, pumping with adrenaline as he pulls you towards the middle of the hull and then wraps an arm around you.

“Hey,” he murmurs, pulling you tight to him and pressing the helmet to the crown of your head. His voice is barely a whisper through the modulator. “Gar darasuum.” For an eternity.

You find some way to wrap your arms around him, even with your blaster in your hand and the kid hanging out in his dad’s other arm.

“Dayn alanyc, bal alanyc, bal alanyci,” you murmur dutifully against the beskar chestplate, knowing your accent is probably butchering the words but hoping they still carry the same sentiment.

And then you’re squeeeeeezed hard enough to get a little air out of you, before you’re let go and he turns around, pressing a button on his vambrace so the ramp begins to lower.

It’s bright outside but not too bright, and everything is warm and gentle and breezy, right in the middle of a lush plain. You inhale the fresh air into your lungs, looking out across the wide open field, having no fucking clue this is where your day would be leading when you woke up this morning. Oh Maker, it’s gorgeous here. Not like Naboo, where every single thing is picturesque and fit for an e-card, but in a soft, understated kind of way. The sky is a canvas of swirling pastel clouds, pale pinks and yellows and blues, and the communicator on your wrist lets you know that it’s just after noon here.

You take one single step down the ramp, before immediately stopping and turning around to bite your lip at him.

“How am I… how am I supposed to outrun you?” You ask, already clueless. “You’re too good, better than me at everything.”

“That’s not true,” Din reminds you sternly, grabbing your hand at your side. “You already know who’s after you, that’s an advantage nobody else has ever had against me. You know how I think. I don’t know how, but sometimes it’s like you can…” He slowly shakes his head. “See me. Through the metal.”

“But… but that works both ways,” you point out, breathless at hearing him say that but needing to focus right now. “You know me, too—you’ll know exactly where I—”

He shakes his head again, but quickly this time. “Remember what I told you a long time ago? What your best weapon is?”

You… do not. He told you so many things, and you’re assuming every single one of them is going to come into play during this endeavor if you want to outlast. You’re going to have to think back and remember all of them individually, find the time to figure out your best plan of action based on the remarkably little you know about how he hunts.

“You’re smart, remember?” Din murmurs, squeezing your fingers. “Your mind works differently, it sees things in ways I’ll never be able to, not even with this helmet. So…” He shrugs a shoulder like it’s the simplest thing in the galaxy. “Don’t try to outrun, okay? Just try to outsmart.”

You give him a nod after a moment, still not really sure about it, before giving his hand one last squeeze in return and eventually letting go.

Outsmart. Outsmart him, use what you know about him to be the most elusive quarry he’s ever hunted down.

As you make your way down the ramp, you’re already thinking. His helmet tracks footprints, that’s a thing you know. You’ll have to find someone to trade shoes with, then—yours aren’t too beat up, maybe you can find a local who’d appreciate a better pair. Are you going to a city? Would there be one in walking distance? The wilderness won’t work, you’ll be too exposed and it would make you an easy target for either him or wild animals. The weather seems clear here though, and you don’t think you’ll need to worry about rain or snow, but if—

“Oh—but when you do see me,” Din decides to add when your feet finally touch the grass, and you pause once more to turn around and look at him. He stays quiet for a second, studying you through the helmet for too long. Like the anticipation is getting to him already.

You bite your lip back at him and adjust the bag on your shoulder, tummy swirling with nerves and excitement. He tilts the visor up, gazing down at you from the hull with the kid tucked in his arms.

“Try to outrun,” he says gruffly, before turning back into the ship and letting the ramp slowly close behind him.

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #smut #angst #hurt/comfort #reader insert #the mandalorian #rough day #no-droids

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michelle-is-writing · 3 years ago

Text

Family Matters, Greg House

Word count: 1.7k~

In the time I’ve worked at Princeton-Plainsboro teaching hospital, some might say I'm the bubbly doctor in our group. Although I don’t know how true this might be, I do know everyone can agree I'm definitely more bubbly than doctor Gregory House, but that's for another day to discuss. I'm usually the one people send in to try and cheer up patients. Because of this, I mostly work in the pediatrics ward where young, sick children are. Sometimes, I have an easy time talking to the kids and making them happier, and sometimes, I don't; usually, when I'm upset, I have a hard time.

Right now, I'm having a very difficult time.

A young New Jersey girl at the age of 11 had developed mastoiditis, an infection that affects the mastoid bone above the ear and is typically caused by a middle ear infection. Usually, this all clears up, but sadly, this infection had grown to be so bad that the girl ended up with only twenty-three percent of her hearing left in the one ear. Although this is the case, I'm not having a hard time because of the girl's loss of hearing, no.

I have my own problems at the moment.

Since I'm working in the children's ward, I don't get to see Wilson or Greg as much as I want to. Despite Greg's tendency to be an asshole, he's still my best friend and not to mention that Wilson is the kind of guy anyone can talk to about anything. However, our schedules are all different, so, as I said: we don't get to see each other that often.

At least they're still in my life though. For my family, I can’t say the same. Recently, I've just lost the closest person to me in my family; although it wasn’t through death, but through immaturity and childishness. Because of this, all of my other family members have closed me out as well, causing me to be alone. With all of my friends busy and my family shutting me out, I have no one to talk to or enjoy time with... no one. I can't even get a boyfriend for Christ's sake, and it's not like the guy I have my eyes on actually likes me back. Greg is the type of guy you can easily fall in love with, yet at the same, you really shouldn't.

"Doctor (y/n)," the young girl by the name of Jessie states. Putting all my focus back on her, I remind myself not become distracted anymore today. This isn’t the first time, unfortunately. "Will my hearing ever return?"

I smile sadly at her and shake my head. "I'm sorry, Jessie," I tell her. "Your hearing in that ear won't return, but it's not a bad thing!" I assure her. She smiles in relief. "We can always get you a hearing aid, and that will help get your hearing back to normal again, but the wait might be a little long," I explain. "Is that okay with you?"

She nods her head at my question. "I'm okay with that, doctor (Y/n)," Jessie tells me, "I'll have my family help me until then," she smiles brightly. "You can always look up to your family, right?" She states, confident in her words.

Tears slowly rising to my eyes at the thought, I nod and quickly blink them away. "That's right," I tell her, still smiling. "And don't you ever forget it," looking toward her parents, I nod my head. "The discharge nurse will be here in a few moments with the papers. If you'll excuse me..."

Without another word, I quickly leave the room and walk as fast as I can to the nearest empty room. I prefer going to James’ office instead, but it's two floors away, and I don't want any awkward elevator trips. So, before I have a mental breakdown in the middle of the hallway, I find an unlocked janitorial closet before walking in and closing the door behind me, ultimately sliding down the hardwood door once it's shut.

Sitting on the cold, tile floor, I begin sobbing as quiet as I can, my hand covering my mouth. I already had my family drama on my mind all day, but for that girl to unintentionally throw it back in my face? That was the frosting on top of the already leaning, three-layer cake.

Tears stream down my cheeks like raindrops as I cry my heart out. I can tell my cheeks are red by the sensation of heat I currently feel on them; my hands feel it too. I'm crying so hard my chest begins to heave up and down as if I were having a panic attack. Oh God, I can't have a panic attack. Not here, not now.

Behind me, I feel two knocks on the door, causing me to halt. The only problem is: the knock wasn't above me, it was where my back is against the door. Remind you, I'm currently sitting on the floor. The only way someone can knock that low is if there is a midget behind the door there or someone used something like a cane... it's Greg.

Slowly moving up a little, I shakily open the door and let the grey haired man in, watching as he looks at me with pity. I've never seen the confident doctor House look like this with anyone. It's like a... a totally different Greg.

Sitting down beside me against the door, Greg drops his cane beside him as he sighs and wraps his arm around me before gently tugging my body close to his. Shocked, I tense up, tears no longer pouring out of my eyes. Greg never comforts anyone like this. He always makes fun of them or says something that many people take offense to, but he never... he never cares. He always brushes it off his shoulder, yet for some reason, he seems like he actually cares this time.

"What's wrong?" He asks, his voice deep as usual with no emotion.

I wait a few seconds before lying. "Nothing important," I tell him, my voice wavering from my scattered emotions.

Pulling me back to face him, Greg looks me in the eye before sighing again. "I know you've been crying by the wet tears on your cheeks, slight puffiness, and redness to your eyes, and fast-paced breathing - and I don’t even have to be a doctor to notice that," he breaks down my current state, lifting an eyebrow. "Now, are you going to begrudgingly tell me what's wrong or do I need to stay in here with you until you finally give in to all my unrelenting sexiness."

His comment makes me laugh, causing a grimace of a smile to fall on House's lips. Out of all of us, I've been the only one to do that. I've been the only one to break Greg's stone exterior and interior. Plus, It doesn't help that I like Greg romantically. I like the fact that he's confident and witty; he's not afraid to be himself. Although, he can still be quite an ass to others, but to me, he’s always been nothing but kind. Even when I first started working here, he was still patient and sweet - a rare sight to everyone else. It used to hurt me to think he’ll never feel the same way as me, but I’ve gotten so used to that fact that it doesn’t even bother me anymore.

"It's just... my family," I explain, Greg pushing my head back onto his shoulder as he holds me. At this point, I'm not shocked by anything he does. The infamous doctor could be high for all I know. He probably took a few Vicodin tablets before coming down here now that I think of it.

"They've completely... shut me out," I explain, shrugging as I rest my hand on his shoulder. "They never talk to me anymore, they've blocked me in any way of even trying to talk to them. My cousin just sent me an email last night telling me that I didn't need to contact them anymore as they no longer wanted me in their lives," I close my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks. "Plus, I wish I could work with you guys again," I take a breath before saying the next thing. "I miss you."

A few seconds of silence pass before Greg leans down to my face level. Opening my eyes, I'm greeted by his own sapphire orbs, watching as he continually inches forward until his lips plant themselves on mine. Our eyes close at the same time in response to the touch of our lips, and they stay that way too. With my heart beating fast and a different fire in my cheeks, I instantly respond to his kiss while placing my hands on the sides of his face, feeling his hands attach themselves to my hips as I do so. We kiss until we have to breathe, both of us pulling apart simultaneously.

"They don't deserve you," Greg tells me, a little out of breath. "You are wonderful; a decent and kind human being, inside and out," he takes a small pause, flashing his blue eyes down to mine. "I never thought I’d say this, but… because of you, I think maybe not everyone is a horrible person and that maybe I can be a bit nicer a time or two," he then smiles at me, kissing me once more. "You have made me feel love believe it or not."

Smiling, I lean up to kiss his forehead before sitting back down and resting my head against his chest, my eyes cast upon him as he looks down at me. "You've also made me feel love," I confess to him, my voice shy. "I've grown to love you as well. You and your sarcastic comments and witty comebacks and your insults to apparent stupid people," for once, he laughs, making me grin. "I can't help but love it all."

After a few moments, Greg speaks up. "I know I can't be your entire family," he murmurs, holding me close. "But I can try to be your... your..." He draws on, clearly trying to come up with an appointed title for himself. After a few seconds, I giggle and cut him off.

"Boyfriend?" I ask, making him roll his eyes.

"I was going to say significant other," he argues, looking over to me. "The term boyfriend is so, well, childish," he complains, making me giggle.

Leaning closer, I peck his lips. "Good thing you have a childish mind," I tease him, pressing my lips to his one more time before he responds to my comment with something horrible or completely inappropriate. It is Doctor House we’re talking about, after all.

#greg house #gregory house #gregory house imagines #gregory house imagine #gregory house x reader #greg house imagine #greg house x reader #greg house imagines #house md #house md x reader #house md imagine #house md imagines

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sugarbooger513 · 3 years ago

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JJK Men x Insecure chubby Fem!reader

Today has been hard to think of myself positively, and I have friends who struggle with the same thing, so I thought I could indulge some people with some very loved characters reminding us that, no matter our size, we're perfect.

Characters: Satoru Gojo, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Kento Nanami

Warnings: Insecurities, body dysphoria, Toji's gets spicy (sue me), suggestive at the end of Nanami's, tooth rotting fluff.

Satoru Gojo

- Let's be completely honest here, this man rarely feels insecure, if he ever does.

- He wouldn't be able to sympathize, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care. In fact, it makes him care a lot more.

- His comfort methods aren't for everyone either, so be prepared. He's trying, give him that.

- Humor. That's what this man knows. Iykyk, this man deflects any form of trauma with his humor.

- If he notices it isn't working, then he'll come up with something else because he loves you. That love tells him that he has to try.

"Oh sweetie pie, I'm home!" Satoru's voice carries easily through the house, but you can't seem to care at the moment. Your cheeks still feel somewhat sticky from the tears that have fallen the past thirty minutes.

"Honey bun? I said I-" His voice cuts off, and you know you're caught. The bed shifts where your boyfriend lowers himself beside you. "Y/N, why are you crying?"

"I-I don't want to talk about it, Satoru." He removes his blindfold with a small chuckle. "Did your favorite anime character die?" "No." "You sure? You tend to sob when-" "I said I don't want to talk about it."

He freezes at the way you lash out at him. Yeah, something is actually wrong.

"Love," his voice softens in a way that shows how worried he is, "is there anything I can do to help? Anything at all?" You're quiet for a minute, but you eventually scoot closer to him.

"You want me to hold you?" All you manage is a nod before more tears slide down your cheeks. His long arms encase you securely against him. "I can do that as long as you need. I'm here for you, Y/N."

The two of you stay like that, you crying softly into his uniform while he runs his hand up and down your back.

Eventually, your sobs turn into small sniffles, and you finally speak. "I.. I'm sorry for snapping at your earlier, Sato." He smiles at the loving nickname. "No, baby, I'm sorry for joking around. You wanna talk about it now?"

"I just... I was thinking about.. how many girls looks so much better than I do." He scoffs. "You're kidding, right?" "Sato.." "No, I mean that. It isn't a joke. Baby, we've been through this since day one. I. Want. You."

You hide your now blushing face against his chest. "But.. I just don't understand.." "Look at me, baby." When you do, his bright blue eyes seem to shimmer. "You're the love of my life. You're gorgeous, stunning, beautiful, and every other synonym to those that I'll have to get Nanami to teach me because I will remind you everyday until it gets through your thick ass skull."

His hand comes up to rest on your chubby cheek, where he starts to wipe away the drying tears. "I. Love. You. So. Freaking. Much. Y/N." Each word is punctuated with a kiss on a different part of your face, until he eventually meets your lips.

The small giggles you let out makes him smile. "There's that beautiful laugh! Come on, why don't I pop some popcorn and we go watch whatever you want on the TV?" Your shit eating grin makes him snort a bit of laughter. "Even if it ends in a favorite character dying?"

"I don't mind having to hold you a bit longer."

Toji Fushiguro

- This is also someone I don't think can really empathize with you and your insecurities.

- However, when this man falls he falls HARD

- He will do anything in his power to make you feel better.

- Well

- Anything he can do while still seeming nonchalant about it

- Lets talk about how this man would take matters into his own hands, with his own hands, to make sure you know how loved you are. (You couldn't have expected just fluff with him, give me a break y'all.)

"Y/N," Toji kicks his shoes off carelessly at the door, "I'm home." He raises a confused eyebrow when he looks around the house. Plates from your movie night yesterday lay strewn about the coffee table, still.

'She never leaves dishes out. That's weird.'

He starts to walk around the house, worry filling his chest. It just isn't like you to leave a mess, or to not greet him at the door. There's no way someone came and did something to you, right? No one is THAT dumb, surely.

When he hears the small sniffles coming from your shared bedroom, he breathes a small sigh of relief. "Y/N? I'm coming in." He pushes the bedroom door open to see you cuddling his pillow while laying on your side.

His eyes widen at the sight of your body trembling from the small sobs. "Y/N?" He walks around the bed to kneel in front of you. "What happened?"

"N-Nothing Toji. Sorry, I-I know the house is a w-wreck." "Shut up about the damn house. I don't care. Why are you crying?"

You finally sit up, which lets him sit beside you on the bed. "I just.. Bad day." "Who do I need to stab?" "T-Toji?! You can't solve everything by stabbing!" He shrugs a bit. "You can try."

He smiles sweetly when you slap his arm. "That isn't funny." "Hmmm, but it made your cheeks flush." "Toji Fushiguro!" "Alright, alright. You wanna tell me what's wrong now?"

"I just.. looked in a mirror for too long, babe. Don't worry about-" "I'm lost. What do you mean you looked in one for too long?" You sigh, knowing he hates vague answers.

"My body is disgusting me today, Toji." He scrunches his eyebrows and leans in a bit closer to you. Your face heats up from the slight glare in his eyes.

"Looks the same to me." "Toji, I-" "Correct yourself." His already deep voice seems to drop even lower. Your entire body trembles. "S-Sir."

"Good girl. Now, let me get this straight. You don't think you're attractive." You shake your head, suddenly feeling the tears come back to your eyes. "Why not?" "J-Just.. my body.. it isn't.." "Skinny?" The word hurts your heart, but you nod, knowing he expects some sort of answer.

"So? You're exactly what I need, Y/N." You glance up to meet his loving gaze. "N-need?" "Don't play dumb. You know I need you. Now, we have to fix those insecurities."

He stands, offering his hand out to you. When you take it, he pulls you to your feet.

"Now," he groans as he lays back down on the bed, "I've had a tiring day at work. I want you to strip and come take a seat." "A-a seat?" His smirk tells you what you need to know before he elaborates. "I AM rather starved. Come on, I'm pretty impatient."

"To-Sir, I'm too.." "Heavy? Try again. You aren't getting out of this." He snaps his fingers, and the sound runs deep into your core. His eyes watch you hungrily as you start to get out of your pants.

"Now, for every one of your orgasms, I want to hear 'I'm Toji's pretty princess.' Understand?" "Y-yes sir."

You have no idea what posses you, but you finally let out you own witty comment. "You could at least take me to dinner first."

"You cheeky brat, don't worry. I have plans for your meal."

Hope you don't mind being hoarse for a while. You had to repeat just how pretty you were a number of times.

Choso Kamo

- SWEETEST MOTHER FUCKER I SWEAR

- He doesn't see a single flaw in you, honestly.

- Plus, he doesn't really understand beauty standards. All he knows is he loves every inch of you.

- Nothing goes unloved by this big ass baby.

- You crying would probably bring him to tears because he feeds off your emotion.

- But there is no doubt this man will do anything and everything to see your smile again.

- A true king who just wants his queen as happy as she makes him.

He left you for maybe an hour. Maybe. Choso just had to run and pick up a movie from Yuji.

"Angel, Yuji said that we have to-" He drops the movie the instant he sees tears in your eyes. "L-love? What happened?"

He rushes to your side and wastes no time wrapping you in his strong embrace. Your hands grip his shirt in a feeble attempt to pull him closer.

"What happened? Do you need something? A doctor?" His eyes are scanning your body for any signs of pain. His hands running gently over your back, arm, sides, but everything seems normal.

"I-I'm okay, Cho." "No, you aren't. Please, angel, don't lie to me." His own eyes start to fill with tears, but he tries to will them away. He knows he shouldn't be crying, but seeing you in any pain hurts him just as much.

"Cho, I just.. It's stupid." His large hands cup your face so you're forced to meet his eyes. "Nothing that makes you cry is stupid. Absolutely nothing, my love."

"I.. I tried to put on a hoodie of yours because I was cold." He blinks in confusion. "Was.. was it dirty?" "No I.. I stretched it out.." he tilts his head.

"Is that all?" You nod, but even more tears come to your eyes. "I just hate how big I am.. I thought you would find it cute to come home and see me in your clothes but.. I just messed them up.." He stands, suddenly walking into the kitchen. "C-Cho?"

"I bought some of your favorite ice cream. You know, the kind you always crave on your period. I figure we can cuddle and you can enjoy it while we watch a movie."

"I- I don't really want anything to eat." He smiles, still grabbing it and a spoon. "I know, but just in case. Listen," he places the carton on the table next to you, "you're gorgeous. Every part of you just screams beauty. Nothing could ever change that. Not your size, not you stretching out a stupid hoodie, not you crying, nothing."

He opens the carton, only to get a spoonful out and kneel in front of you. "Open up, angel." You do as he says and allow him to feed you the ice cream. You can't help but smile as you eat it.

His index finger wipes a few old tears from your cheeks. "There's that smile I love. Now, I think we need a movie and some cuddles. How does that sound?" You can only nod, absolutely floored by how much Choso truly loves you.

No more negative thoughts came to your mind while you laid against his chest. He even took a few times to feed you more ice cream throughout the movie.

Oh yeah, he totally bought new hoodies in a bigger size so you could wear them around the house without fear of stretching them.

Kento Nanami

- KING ENERGY

- You can't tell me this man doesn't want someone who acts as his pillow. Come on.

- That being said, Nanami knows how it is to be insecure.

- Whether it's over body insecurity or not, that can be argued either way. Still, insecurities aren't something he's ignorant about.

- On days where you can't seem to like your body, he'll do whatever you need.

- Need to be alone? No problem. Need someone to talk to you? Covered. Just need to be told you're loved? He'll tell you as many times as it takes.

- However, he can't help but be blunt. That's just who he is.

- He does it out of love for you, though. He never wants you to believe something that isn't true.

It's really hard for you and Nanami to get the same day off of work, and today was no different. Since you were the one working today, Nanami decided to take up cleaning the house and preparing dinner. He would also insist on doing the dishes, but he knew better. You never allow him to do all of the work.

He watched the clock hit five thirty and smiled. No doubt, that was your car he heard pull into the driveway. Now that you were home, he could surprise you by telling you that he managed to get the next five days off, which matched your schedule.

The front door opens, and he's quick to call out a "Welcome home, dear. Dinner will be done soon." He turns his body, preparing to catch you in his embrace as usual. However, all that happens is you call back, "Thanks, Ken."

His eyebrows furrow, and he quickly takes dinner off the stove so he can go check on you. He's not one to forget anniversaries or anything like that, so his mind is going through any possible reason you just called him Ken.

"Bad day at work, dear?" He wipes his hand on his apron as he comes around the corner. You were already sitting on the couch, eyes on your phone. "Yeah, I guess." "Okay," he sighs and sits beside you, "would you like to talk about it?" When you finally look at him, his eyes widen. Your eyes are puffy, as if you had been crying.

"Y/N.." "It's just coworker drama, Ken, don't worry too much about it." He scrunches his face. Those women you work with always pissed him off. He's noticed them staring at him whenever he brings you lunch. "Well, humor me a bit. What happened today?"

He just knows you can't resist gossiping with him after a work day. "I-I don't want to repeat it, Ken." The worried look in his eyes makes you whimper. "What?"

"I'm not used to you calling me 'Ken' at home." "Sorry, honey. It's nothing you did." He smiles softly and reaches to cup one of your cheeks in his hand. "Are you sure you don't want to tell me?" You do. God, you do because you know you'll cry again and he'll be here to hold you through it.

"They started talking about you." "Me?" "Yeah," you look at your hands, already feeling your chest tighten, "and started laughing at how you're.. settling for someone who is as big as I am.."

Nanami's soft looks suddenly turns harsh. How dare they say stuff like that? What's worse is he's sure they knew you could hear them!

"Really?" When you nod, a tear falls onto your lap. "It just.. really hurt knowing that I'm not the only one who thinks that." "Y/N.." He pulls you into a hug with a soft sigh.

"Don't think like that. Dear, if I wanted anything different than what I have now, you would know it." You sigh and cuddle into his warm embrace. "I know, but-" "But nothing, my love. I love you, only you, forever you. Do you understand?" You glance up and he places a soft kiss on your forehead.

"Yeah.. I love you too, Kento." "I have an idea." "Uh huh?" His smirk has you worried. "Well, we both have the next five days off.." "We do?!"

The excitement in your voice has him chuckling. "There's my pretty laugh. Yes, we do. I'm thinking on your first day back.. you go in with a ring on your finger."

You blink in confusion. "K-Kento, you don't-" "Oh I do. Am I the person to joke about wanting to marry you?" Your eyes start to fill, yet again, with tears. However, these tears make Nanami also tear up a bit.

"Are you... asking..?" "I have a ring just for you in my suit jacket, Y/N. Just say you'll marry me." He isn't really expecting you to jump on him, so when you do, he falls from the couch to the floor. "You know I'll marry you, Ken!"

The two of you share a long kiss, complete with tears and laughter. "Well, now that that's decided. I think we should get a head start on something." "What would that be?"

He stands before securing you in his arms bridal style. "The Prehoneymoon." "That isn't a thing, honey." He smirks before playfully smacking your ass. "For you, Mrs. Nanami, anything is possible."

@katgalle @savonline

#jjk headcanons #nanami kento x y/n #toji fushiguro x reader #choso x reader #satoru gojo x reader #nanami fluff #toji fluff #choso fluff #gojo fluff

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thestarfilledsea · 3 years ago

Text

Ocean depths

Word count: 2,736

A03 Link

-summary-

MK finds out that Monkey King has a fear of water, and that he refuses to face it even though MK has faced his fear of spiders multiple times.

Who could predict that shenanigans would happen?

(Dad Wukong is now my favorite thing to write. Ever.)

—

Based on the asks I sent to @animemoonprincess ! I hope you like my overexcitement and creativity taking over.

Post 1

Post 2

Enjoy!

—

“Why don’t you swim?”

The question shook Wukong from his thoughts, remembering that MK was still sitting beside him on the smooth rocks just outside his cottage, drying off from swimming in the crystal lakes and rivers that wound their ways through Flowerfruit mountain.

Spacing out. He had spaced out again. He needed to remember to work on that.

“Uhm, I don’t want to get my fur wet?” He tried, ignoring how a nervous smile creeped onto his face.

“Really? Because the last time you told me that when we invited you to that pool party, Mei came up with a theory that you’re afraid of water.” MK teased, content with watching the baby monkeys play with each other from afar.

Monkey King said nothing.

“You’re not actually afraid of the water, right?”

Still nothing, the only difference this time was Monkey King’s tail nervously swishing behind his back.

“…you’re kidding me.”

“I’m a stone monkey, bud. Ever thrown a pebble into a pond?”

“Seriously? I’ve faced my fear of spiders multiple times, but you won’t even dip one toe into the water?”

“I sink, MK.”

“THE WATER IS ONLY WAIST DEEP-“

“You don’t know that.”

“It’s a pool. The whole point of it is that you do.”

Monkey King just crossed his arms and huffed in MK’s general area.

“…what, got no argument for common sense?”

“I’m not swimming.”

“Dang, I mean, Mr Tang always said that you couldn’t fight well underwater, but I didn’t know you couldn’t even swim. How did you even manage to get out unscathed?”

“I know how to swim! I just…don’t like doing it often..?”

MK raised an eyebrow.

“…okay so maybe I don’t know how to swim per say, but I’m a rock, I sink.”

“You literally have super strength.”

“…no I don’t. You don’t know that.”

Legends say MK’s screech of frustration can still be heard echoing through Flowerfruit Mountain’s caverns.

The oceans tide is calming to some, but terrifying to others.

Sun Wukong is not the type to ask for help. Even after MK offered to teach him how to swim in a pool instead of the sea, he refused. Maybe it was pride? Or shame? He usually couldn’t distinguish the two.

But right now? The grey skies reflect the dark ocean back to him.

MK was right. The kid had faced so many of his fears with no prior training.

Hesitantly, Wukong stepped into the tide. He didn’t expect for it to be so strong, thus he nearly lost his balance to it, giving an undignified yelp in the process.

Regaining his footing, He realized It almost felt nice, the tide and wet sand beneath his feet.

He could do this! MK needed to learn how to fight underwater and Wukong owed the kid that much as to teach him how.

He stepped forwards, the water pooling around his feet, inviting the sage in further.

The wind whipped across the surface, creating more waves as it went, and the sky grey with the promise of rain above seemed to gaze upon him with approval.

Wukong was just over knee deep depth and getting a bit twitchy when a wave bigger than the rest appeared before him.

He had seen it coming, but couldn’t bring himself to run. Who runs from a wave? It was probably fine.

It was decidedly not fine, as he immediately got bowled over, unprepared for the force of it.

Too much. It was too much.

He was under the water. But at the same time, he wasn’t. He was under the mountain again. It was heavy, and pushed him down to the ground below.

Later, he would vaguely remember thinking that maybe he shouldn’t have tried to learn to swim in the ocean when a storm was coming in, but all rational thought was pushed to the side as he scrambled out of the waves, digging his hands into the sand as he drug himself forwards, the tide still pulling him back, as if sad to see him go.

Everything felt overwhelming. Even the wet clothes he wore felt too heavy. He covered his mouth with a hand and closed his eyes, gasping for air with a need that went beyond just getting pulled under.

He usually wasn’t like this. When there was danger on the journey and they needed him to go underwater, he could. Maybe because back then he had purpose to do so. Someone to save, someone to protect, someone to fight. Or maybe it was the fear of the punishment that awaited him if he didn’t.

But now?

MK would find him, hyperventilating, soaked in decently cold ocean water, sand clinging to his form, with one of his hands digging into the sand while a storm formed in the sky.

“So…you have a phobia of water?” Sandy asked, setting two cups of tea in front of the pair before him.

“I don’t, he does.” MK gestured to his mentor, who sighed dramatically.

“Kid, I’m fine, really. I’ve dealt with similar stuff on my own before, it’s no big deal.” The king tried to dismiss, but quietly accepted the tea that was handed to him by Sandy.

Sitting back and sipping his own tea, Sandy couldn’t put his finger on it, but Monkey King felt different to him. The best way he could describe it was the light wispy feeling you get after crying for a long time.

“…I know a place that we can rent a pool out for a couple of hours.” Sandy offered.

Monkey King choked on his tea, and subsequently started coughing, hitting his chest a few times before stopping.

“That would be great Sandy!” MK beamed.

“Nope.”

“Why not?” Sandy asked, his concerned expression dissolving into a smile as Mo clambered onto Wukong’s lap, demanding attention.

“I’ll deal with it.” Monkey King managed, lifting his hands away from the small animal that now lived on his lap for the foreseeable future.

“I literally had to drag you back to your house because you had a panic attack.” MK deadpanned.

“I did not.”

“Oh, what else would you call that? Meditation?”

“…Yes?”

“What the—mONKEY KING THATS NOT WHAT MEDITATION LOOKS LIKE.”

“How would you know? You’ve never done it.”

MK facepalmed, sighed, and turned to Sandy. The kid made several hand gestures vaguely suggesting the method of strangling someone, before he rested his head on the table in exhaustion.

“…Monkey King, with all due respect, I think you need to accept the offer.”

“Psssh no. I’ll just try again. In a lake or something.”

Wukong was lying, of course. He felt that if he ever had another tide push him into the sandbar, he would simply launch himself into the atmosphere.

He swore to himself that even if MK pulled the puppy dog eyes, he would refuse. Never again.

Probably..

This sucked.

Not because of the four foot deep water that he was in, but because of the sheer amount of floaties that were now attached to Monkey King in an effort to keep him afloat.

‘It’ll be easier to learn the movements if you’re floating’ they said.

‘We’ll teach you to swim, no problem’ they said.

Mei and MK both were currently gripping the side of the pool, laughing their throats to shreds at the sight of the Great Sage Equal to Heaven with one too many pool toys strapped to him and a grumpy expression on his face.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up. Now get over here and help me.”

Mei had tears streaming down her face at this point and MK had laughed so hard he choked on his own air.

It was, to be fair, a sight to behold.

And even though the water was still unnerving to the Great Sage, with the sound of their laughter and the warm serenity of the pool water around him, he couldn’t bring himself to feel scared.

He had thought he would’ve hated it. But seeing the kids swim over to teach him the basics whilst trying their hardest not to snort at his predicament, he didn’t resist when MK booked another rental two weeks in advance for more practice.

Everything had happened so fast,

One moment, Wukong and MK were fighting Lady Bone Demon’s minions side by side. The next? MK had been grabbed by a boney hand and dragged into the ocean in a seconds notice.

“NO!”

Mei’s distant scream of distress from the incoming boat broke the stunned silence from the king. His eyes were still trained on where MK had disappeared from view. It was storming, the giant waves crashed loudly against the shores without pause.

He couldn’t fight! Not underwater! Even on the journey he struggled.

But MK couldn’t either. He hadn’t been taught. Wukong hadn’t taught him.

Oh shit.

Okay.

He has to do this.

Heaven knows what LBD would do to the kid as a prisoner.

Wukong forced himself to start running towards the sea, trying to ignore the feeling of fear and adrenaline swirling around in his gut before he dove into the dark depths after MK.

Oh Heaven it was cold.

Forcing himself to focus, he looked around in the dark water for MK.

His eyes were drawn to the blue glow of a tiny portal beginning to expand, with the skeletal arm being the only thing that was coming through the small portal, but Wukong could see it was getting bigger by the second. It was also pulling MK towards it at alarming speeds.

And to top everything off, it looked like they had the same enchantment on them as Spider Queen’s webs did, draining ones power and leaving them weak enough to be contained in the process.

Launching himself through the water, he ungracefully slammed onto the skeleton hand.

MK was still struggling against the fingers that gripped him in place, but Wukong could tell that he was getting weaker by the second from lack of air.

Using all his strength, Monkey King pried the bones off of his successor, who immediately started swimming upwards.

All Monkey King could think of was how grateful he was that MK had enough strength left in his body to even attempt to swim.

What Wukong didn’t expect though, was for the portal to be open enough for another bone hand to pop out and grab him, and for the first one to do the same.

Their grip forced the air from his lungs, and he flashed back to the mountain once more.

It’s happening again, he couldn’t go back, he just—

no.

Focus.

He needed to get to the surface.

Looking up, he noticed MK was trying to swim back down to him.

All the king could do was shake his head and smile as the kid was pulled from the frigid water by people on the boat, probably Mei.

That’s when the struggling really began, the moment MK wouldn’t have to see him afraid. The water was heavy and it felt like he was only a spec in a vast unexplored world.

Of course, the shocks of his powers being stolen did not help his escape attempts. it felt worse than it did the first time. Maybe it was better then because he was above water, and wasn’t fighting the urge to gasp at the waves of pain.

But no matter how he struggled, the hands still slowly began pulling him towards the portal.

Belatedly he realized that this probably was not the best plan he could’ve come up with.

A shuddering gasp ripped itself out of MK. Mei’s familiar hands pulled him up and away from the ocean, and onto Sandy’s boat.

“He’s…he’s still down there! I have to do something!” Were the first words he choked out.

Droplets fell from his face and onto the boat, forming a puddle that reflected the heavens above.

Mei felt her body start to move before her brain could catch up. Grabbing her sword, she felt magic course through her body as if she was struck by lightning. With no hesitation, she too dived into the ocean, followed shortly thereafter by Sandy.

MK was left on the boat with Tang and Pigsy, both of which were holding the boy back from following his best friend back into the fray.

Just as Wukong was about to be pulled through the portal, his eye sight blurring from sea water, the lack of oxygen, and the amount of power being sucked from his being, something ripped the hands off of him like it was nothing.

Normally he would be concerned but all Monkey King was aware of was a big warm hand gripping his arm, and pulling him upwards.

There was a flash of green from behind him, and the skeletal arms were in pieces, softly floating upwards as a shriek of anger and maybe pain could be heard from the other side of the portal.

All the sudden, all Wukong could see was the sky. He was on his back on the houseboat, Sandy’s hand still firmly gripping his arm.

Oh sweet sweet air, how he had missed it.

Spluttering, Wukong tried to sit up, to which he failed miserably. Slumping against the side of the boat, he hacked up any water he had breathed.

Sandy rubbed his arm, concern obvious, but was interrupted by a frantic MK hugging his mentor.

The poor touch starved monkey was just trying to catch his breath and all the sudden he was being touched more than he had been in years.

Hesitantly, Monkey King wrapped his arms around MK, too tired to even be resistant to the idea.

“Are you okay?” Wukong mustered, his voice scratchy from the situation that had just befallen the two.

“Are you? I thought you were dead! I mean I know I joked about how you couldn’t survive underwater without your super strength before and I-“

“MK.”

“When I got grabbed I realized it was the same kind of thing that Spider Queen had done and I thought if you followed me you would die and obviously I didn’t want that to happen and—“

Wukong’s attempt to interrupt the ramblings of a shaken kid were cut off by Mei heaving herself onto the boat, only pausing for a moment for breath before laughing triumphantly.

“She got so scared of me after I cut off the arms that she closed the portal!” Mei thundered, filling the worried atmosphere of the boat with laughter.

MK snorted and pulled away from Monkey King, who was just realizing how weak him and the kid were after getting their powers drained. The kid could barely stand, leaning on Pigsy for support as he turned to Mei.

The damage was nothing irreparable of course, but snacks and a 24hr sleep awaited the two after this bullshit.

“As she should be, you’re the most terrifying person I’ve ever met.” MK’s compliment tore Monkey King from his thoughts.

“Aww thank you MK…you know, underneath all that sunshine you have a potential to be absolutely terrifying as well, right?”

MK shook his head. “Nahhh, not really my style, you know?”

Sandy silently offered Wukong a hand, to which Wukong begrudgingly accepted after trying to get up on his own once more, only for him to find he had an embarrassingly small amount of strength left.

“Let’s go home.” Tang suggested.

Sandy nodded, him and Pigsy guiding the pair that had gotten their energy drained to some chairs before Sandy went to start the boat.

It’s worth mentioning that Monkey King now had a newfound respect for the cook, as Pigsy pulled from his bag a box of crackers, which the successor and mentor duo absolutely destroyed. Crumbs went everywhere, and Mei slyly started recording.

Monkey King may be known for his amazing feats, but staying awake after one of the biggest adrenaline crashes he had experienced in the last two centuries was not exactly in his skill set.

Especially after MK himself had fallen asleep against his shoulder.

Letting his eyes drift close, a comforting wave of sleepiness washed over him. It almost felt like the tide.

Mo found the sleeping Monkey King’s lap once again, and curled up, and purred the entire way home.

When the next pool party was thrown, he would sit on the side and dangle his legs in.

And of course MK would cheer when he did so.

#lmk #lego monkie kid #monkie kid #lmk wukong #lmk fic #SWK covers his mouth when panicked because of the copper #:D #my drabbles

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