#Do you actually hear a child’s voice. Im so dead serious

[cheriekos]

these are super, super informal and unorganized thoughts but god these panels are haunting me so:

it’s interesting to finally be reading some of the issues that i assume influence general fanon perception of damian because there’s so much emphasis on the actions against tim (and like yeah fair, fucked up let’s not move past that) but also there’s little moments sprinkled throughout that made me go “…this is a child. This is a whole child.”

like idk man! These two pieces of dialogue are very striking to me! “See? I can be useful!” And “Look at me, Mother!”. Maybe it’s just because I work with kids but i read this and very clearly hear a child’s voice! And sometimes i think because a lot of people get caught up in the “formal” way that damian speaks that people forget he’s a kid. A very competent, highly trained kid. But he’s a kid.

Again, i don’t think Damian’s actions can be brushed off just because he’s a kid, and (within the content of the Morrison run), has had some fucked up shit going on. But like - for fanon, I’m just begging folks to strike the balance between talking about Damian being held accountable for his actions and also understanding that in this point in time he’s like maybe nine or ten-years-old. Idk! I’m tired of reading analysis and fan fiction that absolutely crucifies Damian and doesn’t try to find the nuance at all.

[macbethheadband]

Macbeth cope list

What a lovely theatre it was so beautiful in there the CEILING was so nice. The chairs were comfy too. Uh the walls? They were great also. And the floors were walkable no doubt about it

No problems with the headphones at all except for early on when they all started dancing and jumping around the sound went nuts and the music got really staticy. Not sure if we just got a fritzy night or if thats a problem theyve consistently dealt with. The second the dancing stopped though it was fine again so!

Thats a big part of what really impressed me with the sound too it felt like you could really hear how tightly controlled it was and how much attention to detail theyd put into it with switching peoples mics on and off and adjusting volume when they shouted and looping and overlaying voices. And the sound effects worked really well!!! Incredibly effective and immersive. Sidenote a lady sat in front of us was like oh theres headphones? What are these for? Like i forgot not everybody has dedicated their lives to seeing this play and knows all about it

One downside might be that the audience cant hear themselves so theres a lot of coughing and sneezing and snuffling and snorfing and at one point someones alarm went off and when macduff was doing his all my pretty chickens moment someone was genuinely hacking up a lung behind us. I wonder if thats annoying for the actors LOL i hope the donmar proshot doesnt have a lot of that in the final mix because ill just die

LOVED the use of the glass partition the way theyd have everyone seated in a row and delivering the sort of expositiony lines like i said before. Especially in the second half of macbeth theres a lot of back and forth between lots of short scenes so i really liked the way they dealt with that it never lost momentum. And when they opened the glass and started CLIMBING OUT that was so great

Actually a favourite element was how everyone would start climbing onto the stage and crawling towards macbeth and grasping out at him that was so DELICIOUSLY creepy. Shout out to rona morrison who played lady macduff the woman with the red hair in braids she would crack this extremely unsettling smile whenever she went witchy mode and my eye was always drawn to her.

I have so many macbeths to compare this to bc i watched so many this year and this one is up there as a favourite for sure. I think the descent into madness is hard to do in a way that feels natural and not hammy but we can HEAR the voices in their heads and feel the pressure they feel as everything goes weird around them and the guilt starts to eat at them. I believed it i really did!! The sort of Snap the shift between when hes seeing the dagger versus when duncans dead and hes covered in blood again. YAYYY!!!!! I especially believed his speech about banquo that sort of escalation drawn out by paranoia when hes like make THEM kings???? The SONS of banquo. KINGS??? its like here we go girls…

Also comparing it to all the other macbeths i saw its SO GOOD to have an all scottish cast LOL it really is crazy how that simple change adds so so much

Cush jumbo and her big bright eyes HER EYESSSS shes a very powerful glowy presence in her white dress i loved the way she did this sort of gesture like shes having a migraine paired with the sound and the lights sort of getting keyed up and the ghostly child behind them both and the way she did the out damned spot WAIL and how she said come come give me your hand down low and sweet like to a little kid oh my god…

Im jumping around a lot but the porter was really fun and the way they really harshly snap back into the world of the play after it was really cool like the whole scene was all in HIS head too mmmm

I love when its funny GENUINE comedy like hahaha laughing out loud. It was a rough night! So annoying when you know it could be funny but the actors like nah this is serious business or my name isnt sir kenneth charles branagh. Lets have a giggle mate it makes the frightening parts scarier it makes the tragedy more depthful lets experience the range of human emotions together come on lets go

I just want to keep saying things that worked like the music worked the lights worked the smoke worked the bit where everyones being the witches worked the one child actor playing all the children worked the banquos ghost scene REALLY worked you have DISPLACED the MIRTH the idea that the two of them are carrying a lot of baggage from war and the loss of a child really REALLY works. I think thats the best compliment i can give it like theres nothing i feel like didnt achieve what they were going for or fell short. Im really really impressed by it super super super pleased for everyone for bringing the vision to life so clearly and effectively

David tennant was really good

[yourtwistedlies]

THATS RIGHT

your girl val binged the entire first season of the dragon prince

potential spoilers under the cut

Lord Viren is a snake

ratty little scumbag

i don’t like him ONE BIT

but let’s move onto more pressing matters while i get back to that later

the king is dead *jazz hands*

okay so i have a sneaking suspicion that the letter he gave callum was a letter that said he was to inherit the throne or something like that. though, isn’t that already obvious since he’s the oldest child of the king (even if he’s his stepson)? or does it only apply if you are blood related to the king, which means ezran would inherit it? dunno.

also i do acknowledge that rayla was hiding the fact that harrow died to protect them, but like, TELL THEM. even if they would have felt really sad and stuff ᵗᵐ, i feel like personally, i would have told them. because i feel like the longer you withhold the information, the more it’ll hurt when they figure out the truth. and i assure you, one way or another the truth always comes out.

also i felt so just like in shock while seeing the bond (for killing the king) come off of runaan’s hand. it was just so fast i could not process it. also the shadow hawk WAS SO FREAKING COOL. i was just amazed by that for a hot minute. but im not ashamed to say my first thought was that is everyone who was fighting there dead? is soren dead??? now, i wouldn’t say soren is the best person but the way he let callum beat him to impress claudia, never mind his own sister is just so 💗💗💗💗💗💗. also soren is kind of a hot snatch, and you can’t deny it, that’s speaking from someone who doesn’t even really have a type or anything.

okay, so yeah now my next big thing:

aunt amayaaaaaaaaaaa!!! aunt amayaaaaaaaaa! commander gren!!!! but mostly aunt amayaaaaa!!!!!!

eeee i love amaya!!! she’s such a freaking bada*s!! also she’s deaf, which is actually really inclusive of the show writers :D i think we need more shows with people who have disabilities and the dragon prince is a great one! it shows that you dont have to hear to be able to kick some serious a*s and lead people!!! also commander gren is just such a cutie. he translates everything for her, and THAT SCENE WHERE SHE SIGNS “I trust you, you’ve been my voice. Now you will become my hands to save the boys.” (translation from @redemptiionss—they have dragon prince translations for what amaya signs that gren doesn’t say!) AHHH!!!!! i mean that is just so sweet in like a really friendly platonic way. anyways i love aunt amaya and commander gren 💕

SPEAKING OF COMMANDER GREN. LORD VIREN YOU LITTLE TWERP WHY DID YOU UN-ASSIGN HIM FROM THE MISSIONNN??? ik he did it so that his kids could lead it obviously so they could follow his orders and do his dirty work but- you don’t know how much i wanted that commander gren screen time 😭😭 he just seems like such a funny guy

now that we’re back to the subject of lord viren-

his face is NOT doing so hot rn. he need some cera ve lotion ASAP. aging is not doing him well. okay but I’m going to stop joking now. WTF????????? HE FREAKING LIKE TORTURED RUNAAN???!?? AND PUT HIM IN A COIN????? AND HIS EYES ARE SO FREAKING SCARY??????

i mean at least gren is a witness to the torture but im honestly scared for gren now IF HE EVEN FCKING THREATENS GREN IM GONNA do nothing because he’s fake. but you already know im going to be so mad.

anyways lord viren is SICK (not in a good way). he needs serious help.

okay so yeah callum broke the primal stone to make the storm so zym could hatch blah blah blah i don’t really care. though he’s sad because he can’t do primal magic and stuff but now he’s determined to find another way to do primal magic because honestly claudia’s description of why dark magic wasn’t that bad was kind of terrifying.

yeah. then zym hatched i already forgot his full name since it’s so long, but okay!!! ALSO THEN ZYM BROKE RAYLA’S BOND!!! NOW SHE CAN SLISH AND SLASH (reference 😉) AND SHE WONT LOOSE HER HAND!!!! i love rayla :D. the dragon is kinda cute. but he can’t fly. which kinda makes him less majestic but ezran is gonna train him!!!!

ALSO EZRAN CAN TALK TO ANIMALSS!!!

i always believed in him.

next big thing issssss

claudia and soren both have different secret missions that they can’t tell each other about

like way to ruin your children’s sibling relationship and trust viren 🙄 and ALSO LORD VIREN DID NOT JUST TELL SOREN THAT IF THEY’RE ALIVE “SORRY MAN BUT YOU GOTTA KILL THEM” !!!!!!!!!!!! this man is terrifying

i want to beat him up. i could take him with no magic though. ik the only thing that is going to save him is some weird dark magic and without that his frail bones are going to have nothing on me.

okay! on that happy note i shall continue

something is going on with that mirror

runaan said that he had finally found something dangerous and that has hidden dangers (i hope they’re all inflicted on viren). lord viren has some weird obsession with that mirror and the end credits had a mirror with a hand that had four fingers (elf!!!) pressing on it. yay!! plot!!!!

that’s val’s (me!!) summary of the dragon prince season one

yeah.

aunt amayaaaa!!! aunt amayaaaaaa!!! commander gren!! but mostly aunt amayaaaaa!!!!!!!!!!!

[thatgirlfromthering]

here is a bunch of useless stuff abt prsk but i have no friends so im just saying it for everyone to hear. my opinions only dont take this seriously

nc @ 25

mafuyu: my favorite in the whole game. its odd considering that i used to absolutely hate her. i hated her for the same reason that most ppl hate her. i thought that everyone was overreacting to her problems but then i realized i was projecting my own insecurities onto that so i started to love her. ill pull her mothers hair out in clumps

kanade: my second favorite in the whole games. i just relate to mafuyu more. her hair is nice. we both hate going outside ♡︎ idk how shes paying the bills but either way i feel bad for her she lost so many ppl she loves & shes trying to protect someone she loves & i want a friend like her but i dont think itd be healthy but do i care? not really. i love kanade i wanna give her a comfy blanket to sleep with.

mizuki: this was very hard to do cause i couldnt decide to put them or kanade in the number 2 spot. ig i just have the smallest bit of more bias towards kanade. anyway their such a good friend big w for telling your bestie to run away (/serious) ily queen teehee were both transfem she/theys who hated life also their singing voice is the best out of all the characters

ena: ok i wanna like her more than i do but i just hate the way she treats mafuyu its like she thinks mafuyus a burden for not having conventional feelings a lot of ppl ik irl are like this so i dont care for ena that much but she obv has her moments of clarity ig but shes better than shiho (not sorry) also she abuses akito idc what ppl say

vbs

toya: hes autistic idk what to tell you chief i think the tenmas should adopt him his & tsukasas friendship is nice i like how tsukasas like an older brother to him. toya has my favorite voice of vbs i love how wholesome he is autism be damned by boys got daddy issues ill kick his dad in the teeth he & mafumom can fall into a volcano ♡︎

akito: i feel bad for the way ena treats him but i do wish he wasnt an ass sometimes but hes gotten better & actually has depth so i like him lots cause his voice is really good also his event stories are good i wish he had more event stories that were centered around him

an: 100% she ahouldve been the vbs leader my theory is that she looks too much like ichika ig & thats why. theres probably some reason that im unaware of. i like her event stories a lot shes a good character i like her determination also caucasian destination boy was her canon event not her discovering nagi is dead

kohane: shes cute & all & her singing voice is good. but she just feels like a copy & paste of minori, vice versa. her determination is cute & all but she just feels like super basic her outfit is cute tho ig.

wxs

nene: shes rlly cute her & emus friendship is one of my favorite dynamics we both love video games her whole mermaid thing is really nice i love mermaids sm also her songs are rlly cute her & lukas voices go well together shes also autistic just saying

rui: the other characters have queer aspects abt them but this guy was just queer all around i mean jfc anyway he said :3 i love his face he probably has my favorite face of the characters he has the best singing voice of wxs imo his event stories are cool too. hes autistic

emu: you ever meet someone so cheerful its almost intimidating? anyway shes adorable & deserves the world i like her lots i think shed give good hugs even tho i hate being touched id like to hug her at least once her event songs are good but im not a huge fan of once upon a dream

tsukasa: mr showtime is fire. he & emu would be in the same spot but i like emus singing voice better so 🤷‍♀️ he & mafuyu probably are systems (shoutout to hearth4days) my guy has glass child syndrome his parents are lowkey neglectful i love his big brother thing hes got going on i wish he was my big brother. his laugh is loud but nice

mmj

shizuku: so gorgeous no notes shes so sweet & cute & i love her voice & i want her to be my big sister & i love her singing voice the cards for the my color event are so lovely i want that costume for her so badly shes muah muah muah my love

haruka: we both have eds lol im not a huge fan of her singing voice but i like her hair when my hair grows out a little more i wanna style it like that i like her regular voice a lot

airi: lets go lesbians her & shizukus romeo & cinderella song was sooo good also her event songs are sooo good (momoiro key & icedrop ♡︎)

minori: her determination is cute & her design is cute but her personality is eh she & kohane are just copy & pastes of each other their both new at performing and have this main character determination & are obsessed with girls with blue hair (an & harkua)

l/n

honami: we both like drums. she probably has my second favorite face of all the characters. i also think she gives good hugs shes so nurturing and sweet i think her hair is very soft & smells good

saki: shes rlly cute i love her hair i wanna do my hair like that when it gets long we both are chronically ill & feel like a burden to the ppl around us lol her cards are really cute i also think her hair is soft

ichika: eh shes lame her singing voice is pretty good but other than that there doesnt seem to be too much thats interesting abt her

shiho: 🍅🍅🍅

[mrs-gucci]

The Morning Battle [drabble] {Adam Sackler x Reader}

anonymous

“I have to beat them!” “They’re twelve, and they’re just building a snow wall.” “Yeah, so I have to do it better.” Is BIG Sackler energy 😂😂

merry christmas to everyone celebrating! enjoy this fun little Sackler drabble :)

warnings. FLUFF, HUMOR, adam being a child, adam getting competitive with actual children, snowball fights. **no actual use of ‘Y/N’ in this fic.

no tw’s.

word count: 507

prompts used. “I have to beat them!” “They’re twelve, and they’re just building a snow wall.” “Yeah, so I have to do it better.”

Your decision to invite Adam to your family’s Christmas celebration could be either a wonderful idea or a really terrible idea. You’re not quite sure which one it is yet.

At least he’s behaving himself...well, as much as is possible for Adam Sackler. Your mom’s already in love with him, of course, as are most of your female relatives. Sackler is pretty damn charming.

When you wake up, Adam’s not in bed next to you, and the sheets are cold. You’re immediately worried, considering it’s 8:30 in the morning and Adam Sackler is already out of bed.

You sit up and that’s when you hear it, coming from outside the window. Kids, screaming and playing kids, running around the backyard. And then, the familiar voice of your boyfriend, which raises your eyebrows.

Is he--

Yes. Yes he is.

You pull the curtains open and laugh when you catch sight of your very tall and very bundled up boyfriend running around outside with the your youngest relatives. 

With a smile, you walk downstairs and grab two cups of hot coffee before throwing a coat on to head outside. You step out into the cold winter morning and make your way over to where your boyfriend is now building a little snow wall, dodging snowballs as they’re thrown at him.

“Good morning.” You laugh softly. “What’s, uh, what’s going on here?”

“Battle.” He replies simply, throwing a snowball in retaliation.

“Yup, it’s official now. I am dating a child. C’mon, come drink coffee with me.” Your foot gives his side a little nudge.

“Kid, you don’t understand...I have to beat them!”

You look over at the kids, who are working hard to finish up their snow wall.

“Really? They’re twelve, and they’re just building a snow wall.”

Adam pauses, looking over at you with a dead serious face. “Yeah, so I have to do it better.”

“Oh my god, you’re the worst.” You shake your head with a small smile. “Well, when you’re ready to be an adult again, your girlfriend will be sipping coffee in the warm house.”

“Wait, kid! Come help meeeee!” He says, looking over at you with a pouty face.

Eyebrows raised, you laugh.

“No, because I’m an adult. I love you, and I will be inside.”

As you turn to begin walking back over to the back door, a snowball suddenly collides with your head. You nearly spill hot coffee all over yourself and you immediately turn around, glaring at your boyfriend.

“Hey, what was that for?”

His hands raise in surrender. “It wasn’t me, I swear!”

Then, another snowball collides with the side of your head and you look over to the kids across the lawn. They’re giggling to themselves and you huff, quickly dumping the coffee out of the mugs, setting them down on the picnic table before rushing to your boyfriend’s side.

“I’m all in now. Let’s take these little turds down.” You smirk.

Adam laughs, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Mmm, I knew you’d come around.”

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[midday0nightmares]

29 - her son.

Previous chapter prove it.

m.list.

warnings: this series contains themes of yandere\mafia, blood, violence, mental health, drugs, non-con.

author note: this is pure fiction and it is not intended to romanticize any of the situations mentioned bellow.

The door was shut, it won’t open, it was cemented on every side expat for the small slit under it, you try knocking, shout for someone, anyone, but to no avail.

you try the window, it opens, but the sight is even scarier. The city is quiet, too quiet. No traffic in its usually busy streets, every window in the near buildings were closed, no birds in the sky, not a single sign of life, even the sun seems stuck in its place, time isn’t moving.

Outside the closed door, you can hear muffled sounds, you peak under the door and see the familiar white socks on a pair of feet moving around the room, it’s jaemin. you shout and scream for him, but he doesn’t even flinch, he just keeps going through his day. 

You were forgotten, lost forever in his room.

Your eyes open, you find yourself yet again in his room, in his bed, in his arms..it’s still dark outside. You turn over and fall back to sleep.

A door rudely slams shut waking you up again, you left your head and look around, you make a sound of protest.. 

“It’s just jeno, go back to sleep” jaemin’s groggy voice coming from under the covers.

You snuggle deeper into the warm bed sheets and fall asleep.

You wake up later that day to an empty bed, the delicious smell coming through the opened door. You get up and get ready to start a new day, teeth brushed, face washed, hair tamed. 

You walk out to a barley alive jeno who was at the moment paying the price of the wild party he had yesterday, hangover headache, and quit honestly his suffering is such a delight.  

On the other hand, jaemin, was standing in front of the stove, too focused on pouring the pancakes patter didn’t notice your appearance. your feet move to wards him like he was the center of the room, 

“hey” you warp your arms around his waist, catching him by surprise, his eyes crinkle behind the blooming smile.

“heey!” He turns to you and leans down pressing a warm kiss to your forehead, “sleep well?”  his fingers running through your hair.

you shake your head, “nightmares”.

He exaggerates the pout, framing your face in between his hands squishing your checks, he coos at you like you were a child “im sorry”.

Jeno who was staring at you two was disgusted, he makes a gauging sound “you two are gross.. jaemin I couldn’t sleep, nightmares, pay attention to me” he mocks you.

Thanks to binging wrapped in jaemins arms at the moment, you find the courage to roll your eyes, and stare at him with equal disgust.. “pig”the word came out without intent, but it was loud enough for both of them to hear it, making jaemin, proudly, burst into laughter while jeno taking an offense.

The legs of the chair jeno was sitting on dragged on the floor, he repeated with a raised eyebrow “pig?” Like he was giving you the chance to withdraw it, but you hold your stance.

  He walks closer, you can’t tell if he’s being serious but judging by the warm smile that was on jaemin’s face he probably is, so you don’t budge, tightening your hold around jaemin’s mid sections instead.

 when he was at an arm length away from you, “that will teach you” he attacked you with tickles, you move to take shelter behind jaemin, your laughter exploded filling the quite room.. 

But another scream cuts the joyful moment short, a horrified scream that came from outside, you froze in your spot, what could it be now?

Jaemin goes to the door and opens it to investigate, apparently the scream had came from chenle’s apartment.. there were still few people left in his house from the previous night that are running out now and some girls were crying. Jaemin closed the door looking at jeno who shrugged his shoulder, this time they look innocent.. you thought to yourself. 

The atmosphere turned grim, you sat to eat your breakfast quietly, waiting for something that you don’t know. Soon police seiners filled the streets down and chenle’s apartment was sealed off, whatever happened it must be bad. 

A knock on the door, jeno goes to get it this time.. two police officers introduce themselves “can we come in?”, “Sure” jeno opens the door wider and step back fro them to walk in, they step in their eyes scanning the room look before one of them speak “May i ask you where were you last night?” 

“We were at Chenle’s party, out new neighbor, he just moved in” jeno answers. the same man asks again, ”and what can you tell us about it? Anything interesting happened?”.

“No, it was a regular party, music, drinks, girls.. why did something happened? We heard a scream this morning” Jaemin speaks this time. 

“Yeah” the officer sighs, “a young man was found dead in one of the bathrooms this morning”.

“Found dead?” Jeno questions, 

“Killed” the other officer corrects.

The room turns silent, your heart beating fast.. was it jaemin’s doing? You look at him, you can’t tell if his shock was real or another act. 

 After the initial shock has passed, jeno asks them again “who?”, the officers look at each other and decide not to answer him, instead they ask another question.. “where were you between the hours 2:30 and 4:00 am last night?”

“I was here with sera” jaemin turns to you to confirm his alibi, you straighten your back before you speak “yeah he was here, with me”, They look at jeno satisfied with your answer waiting for his alibi.

“I was at the party, with Hacehan. We spent the whole night together with some girls” jeno tells them, 

“Can you give me his contacts?”,

“Yeah sure” jeno gives them his number. “And you miss?” They ask you, 

for a moment you have forgot that you exist.

“She was here, she didn’t come to the party” jaemin speaks for you, but why is he laying?  

 “And did anything happened at the party? Any fights?” They continue their questioning. “No.. nothing I can recall” jaemin answers and jeno nods in confirmation. 

the officer nods and asks again ”do you know a guy named lie yangynag. “Umm .. isn’t he one of chenle’s friends, I’ve met him briefly last night at the party” jeno answers. “And?” On the officers asks for him to continue, “there’s no and, it was the first time i’ve met the guy, he introduced himself and quickly left” Jeno nervously said.

“Okay gentlemen thank you for your cooperation. we are done for now, but if we have more questions we will back, have a nice day”, they turn to leave but jaemin asks them before they do “No problem happy to help, but who .. who was it?” he refers to the dead man. 

“Liu yanyang” one of the answers.

yangynag that strange guy.. You can’t help but to be suspicious of jaemin.

after they have left, you lean to him and ask him in a used voice “was it you?”, he whips his head to you “no!”.

But you don’t actually believe him, you kinda wish it was him taking revenge for you.

.

.

Later that day, the door knocks again. Jaemin goes to open it, this time it was one officer.

“Good evening sir, I am here to speak with mister na jaemin”,

“Good evening, I am jaemin what can I do for you?”.

The man hesitated before continuing, maybe he noticed you were standing couple of feet away form them and listing, “I think it’s better if you come to the station with me”.

“Why? Am I under arrest?” Jaemin asks.

you panic and run to jeno’s room,“they are taking jaemin” you panicky blurt out, jeno jumps out of his seat and comes out of his room with you following him..

“No, no sir you are not, we just want to talk to you” the officer assures jaemin.“Alright, let just change” jaemin agrees to go with him. 

You follow jaemin, “don’t go with him! What if he’s lying?” you try to persuade him, “don’t worry babygirl, nothing will happen I’ll be back for dinner” he waves off your concerns.

“What is this about?” Jeno asks him while he change his clothes. 

“I don’t know” jaemin pulls his sweater over his head and continues “but if something happens you know who to call”.

You stand by the wall, your face morphed with worry, you still don’t want him to go. He smiles when he sees the look on your face, he opens his arms for you to come and you do, your arms holding him as tight as you can, “don’t worry nothing will happen okay?” He tells you gain, you have no choice but to trust his words, you nod and loosen your hold on him to let him go. 

He walks out with the officer and closes the door behind him, you look at jeno and see the same look on his face, he was worried too.

[dragonblobz]

I'm on my bullshit again. No lemons. Just Shinigami goodness. Wrote this to In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth 3 by Coheed and Cambria.

Ryuk has been around for such a long time. Ever since she had found that notebook sitting on that tree stump years ago. Cover soft looking and beaded with dew. It had looked as if it had been there some time. And, although the pages looked weathered and yellow, there was no mold or outward damage.

Surprising given its location in the middle of the woods. She’d only even seen it because she’d stopped and knelt to retie her shoe. Just an alien black square looking sharp and unreal sitting on that stump just off the jogging trail.

She can remember how the thing had felt when she’d picked it up. Soft in texture. Like careworn leather.

The words “Death Note" emblazoned on the cover had made her feel a little unsettled. Eerie out here in the predawn misty quiet.

A silent voice inside her mind had whispered that maybe she should put it right back down on that stump and keep running. As far and as fast as she could.

Another voice, vapid and cunning, had laughed at the absurdity of such a book, with such a title, being left out here in the middle of nowhere.

She hadn’t left it there. Without opening it, she’d tucked it under her arm and continued on her morning run.

She performed all the menial tasks of her daily life, forgetting all about that Death Note leaving dew marks on her dining room table.

Breakfast was bland. Work was tedious. No different than any other day. Even when she’d reentered her home and plopped her work bag next to the thing, her eyes really didn’t focus on it.

It was the tall bony Shinigami standing in her kitchen that finally arrested her fuzzy mind from the blandness of living.

He hadn’t even been looking at her. Instead, the spinous processes of his vertebrae pressed onto the dark material upon his long back as he leaned over her counter. Observing a bowl of fruit as if it were a still life masterpiece.

She hadn’t moved. Was utterly frozen. Just watching this creature as it looked at her food.

“What’s all this junk? Taking up room that could be used for perfectly good apples.” It’s voice, low and yet raspy, grated on her eardrums as it lifted a hand and poked a claw into the ripe flesh of an orange. The movement causing several pieces of fruit to fall out of the over filled bowl entirely.

With a deft movement, the creature caught the only apple which had exited the bowl. Rubbed it with the pad of it’s thumb as it finally lifted it’s face to look at her.

It’s face………

Cadaverous. Eyes beady and large and yellow. Nose squashed. Like a mummy who’d decided to affix it’s hair for a punk rock concert. It was even sporting a dangling silver earring on one of it’s little ears.

At her gawping expression, it had smiled. Wide thin dark mouth sporting a row of razor teeth appearing aged and yellow.

“No screaming, eh? Hiya, Y/N.”

She hadn’t bothered to question how this thing knew her name.

“Um…….. hi?” Her own voice sounded dry and distant in her ears. “And you are?”

It bit into that apple, it’s eyes closing. As if savoring the fruit. A stray drop of the juice dribbled down onto it’s chin.

It said a word. But muffled thru a mouthful of apple, it nearly sounded like a retch.

“Ex….Excuse me? I didn’t…… I didn’t quite understand that.”

“Not a good listener tho. Ah well. Nobody is perfect.” It’s long tongue snaked out to swipe at that bead of juice as the creature had studied her.

Raising it’s free hand, it extended a long bony finger. She noticed now the rings glinting on his hands.

“I. Am. Ryuk.” He said it very slowly. As if she might have been a child who might not understand. But there wasn’t a trace of sarcasm or ill temper in it’s behavior.

“So….. Ryuk…… why…… um…. What……. What do you want?”

At this, it’s smile had widened.

“I’m just here Y/N. YOU are the one that picked up the Death Note.”

Imagery of that notebook popped up in her head.

“I….. I did……”

“Yes. You did. And I’ll be with you until you die now. Or I do.” It was leering now. “Whichever comes first.”

“I see….” She didn’t really see. Turned from him and went into the dining room to pick up that notebook. Opening it. Reading the first thing written on the inside of the cover out loud.

“The human whose name is written in this note shall die.”

It had been frightening in retrospect. Not those words. Not that Death Note. Not even the monster standing in the doorway happily crunching it’s way thru a second apple and watching her.

What had been utterly terrifying was that she had not blanched. Had not set this note down and backed away. Had not told that creature to take it and go.

Instead, she’d stood there. Continuing to read. A name and face already coming to mind.

A face belonging to a monster who’d put that apple eating shark mouthed monster to utter shame. The man who’d killed someone she had loved.

Without looking away from the Death Note, she’d reached over and started rummaging thru her work bag. Fingers shaking and fumbling at keys and change.

“Never can find what you’re looking for if your bag is too full, Y/N.” Ryuk looked vastly amused. “You’re not even going to question the validity of the Note? That’s what you humans usually do.”

She hadn’t answered. Simply gasped as her fingers had clutched onto a great fistful of bullshit in her bag. Lifting the whole mess out to drop carelessly on the table. Chapstick and a tampon scattering across the surface.

And there, rolling and coming to rest against an old broken key chain, had been a blue ink pen.

She’d looked up at Ryuk. Eyes wide, almost manic.

“Any person?”

He smiled again. Repeated her words.

“Any living person.”

There had been no eloquence. No artfulness nor ritualistic care taken in that first death. She had scratched the name onto the paper. And a way to die. Almost stabbing it in. Breathing coming out in ragged desperate gasping.

After the deed had been done, the pen clattered to the floor as she’d wept. Fingers numb.

It hadn’t occurred to her that there would be no way to instantly verify this death. Not until that moment. And so, with a frustrated cry, she’d slapped the Death Note onto the table and fled into her bedroom. Right over to the dark corner to collapse, wrap her arms around her knees, stuff her face into her knees, and cry as a child. Ryuk following her, tilting his head quizzically at this suffering.

“Why are you crying? You couldn’t have liked that human if you wanted them to die.”

“Please…… please go.”

But he didn’t. Simply had sank down. Knobby knees on either side of his ghastly face as he sat across from her.

“I told you. I’m here till you die, Y/N.” There was no camaraderie or sympathy in his voice. It had been matter of fact. “But this surely will get boring very soon, won’t it?”

“When will I know if he died?”

Ryuk smiled again. Leering.

“My my. Impatient aren’t you. Actually that’s a quality I like about you humans. As for your question, I guess you’ll just have to find out for yourself.” His eyes glint as his smile turns wicked. “You could always write a name belonging to someone closer. If you’re seeking validation, of course.”

“There isn’t anyone else I wanna kill.”

“Then this is going to get very boring very quickly, Y/N.”

She hadn’t had to wait long. Two days later, she’d received correspondence that her presence would no longer be required at a hearing. The defendant was dead.

A quick Google search verified that the person had died just as she’d written.

Setting the phone down, fingers numb, she'd simply looked up at her Shinigami.

She knew that’s what he was now. She’d been peppering him with questions about himself and his kind. And about the Death Note. He hadn’t answered many of them. At least, not until she’d given him an angelic grin and revealed a bag of bright green apples.

“Your apples can be green???” He'd looked absolutely delighted. And had been far more forthcoming.

“He’s dead. He’s really……. Gone…….”

Ryuk merely grunted in visceral enjoyment as he popped the core of that Granny Smith into his maw.

Without warning, she’d reached forward, patting at another errant drop of juice on his chin with a Kleenex she’d just snatched from the box. The action was mainly impulsive. And she’d laughed.

“You’re so messy.”

The Shinigami had frozen. Utterly motionless. He didn’t breathe himself. Statue still. Simply looking at her.

The years passed by like this. The shock and relief provided by this first killing soon giving way to an almost comfortable routine. She didn’t go on a wholesale slaughter. And often targeted those who hurt children. The pain of such cases resonating with the events of her own life.

And there were so. Many. Apples. Loads of them. Ryuk loved all kinds. Although he did seem preferential to Honey Crisp. She never once could get him to try another fruit. And she DID try. Not even a damn orange.

“It’s yummy. Ya know, for somebody that says he gets bored easily, you sure are picky.” She waggled the bright fruit.

“I’ve watched you peel one of those things. What sort of food makes you work so hard? Now THIS……” He'd held up his half eaten apple. “THIS is the pinnacle of crisp and juicy. Now leave that orange wherever you found it, if you please.”

Time was littered with conversations as simple as these, intermingled with serious discussions in which he was as non informative as ever.

It was one of these more serious conversations which followed an observation on her part.

She’d noticed changes in him. Very slight. But she was simply around him so much that she could see them. His movements had become slower. More careful. His speech slowed as well. As if he might be thinking more carefully. Or even forgetting things. She never once pointed this out.

Not until, one day, after clearing 6 entire apples, he’d actually groaned as he’d flopped upon her couch. Long booted feet hanging over one of the arms.

She plops next to him. Poking at one of the skulls on his belt. He’d long since stopped being surprised by her impulsive touches and nearness. Her humanness. Simply tolerating it.

“Are you hurting, Ryuk?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Oh. No reason.”

“I’m dying, Y/N.”

For once, it is she who freezes.

“I thought Shinigami lived a long time.”

“We do. My time is simply running out.” He’s just watching her.

“You’d said….. you’d said that you guys get more years by taking ours.”

“We do.”

She stops toying with that skull entirely. Turns her body so that she’s facing him directly.

“Is it time, then?” She’s oddly unafraid.

“Time for what?”

“For you to….. ya know…… write my name in YOUR Death Note?”

At this, he chuckles.

“I’m not going to write your name.”

She looks confused.

“But….. why not?”

Now he’s actually laughing.

“Do you WANT me to write your name in my Death Note?”

She chews on her bottom lip. Reaching out to pat his chest. Once again, he doesn’t react.

“I don’t want you to die.”

He laughs again. But there is no more true mirth in the sound.

“Why?”

She counters.

“Why won’t you write my name?”

“I am not entirely sure, Y/N.” The slight confusion in his voice gives credence to this answer.

“Well. I am sure.” She’s staring intently at him. “Everything ends, Ryuk. Nobody ever stays. Nothing is constant. I’ve never had a single person ever remain in my life. Except….. except you.”

He sighs. Patiently repeating himself.

“I will be with you until you die.”

“I don’t care if it’s because you have to be here. You’re still HERE……. Will it be soon?”

That same, toothy leer.

“You know I won’t tell you your lifespan, Y/N.”

“I don’t mean me.”

He just looks at her. She’s never seen his face so expressionless. Then repeats yet again.

“I will be with you until you die. Or until I do.”

“I will write my own name then. Will that do it?”

“Stop being foolish. Be a dear and get me another apple won’t you?”

“Yeah….. I will. But I’m not done.”

“I’m sure you’re not.” He chuckles.

It is as if this conversation opens a chasm in this inevitable process. Everything about Ryuk is changing. And so quickly.

Already emaciated and pale, even his dark lips turn papery and light grey. His hair grays too. Yellow eyes growing filmy where they had been so keen before. As if, when the aging process actually begins in a Shinigami, it is accelerated.

It is barely 2 weeks after this conversation that he gives a defeated grunt, sprawled on her bed as she’s on her laptop.

“I can’t get up.” He barks out a laugh. As if this is genuinely funny to him.

She closes her laptop and rises from her chair. Turning and walking over to the bed to flop next to him. Staring at the ceiling just as he is.

“You want another apple?”

“Thank you, Y/N. But I do not.”

“That close, huh.”

“I believe so, yes.”

“Will the Death Note still work? When you’re gone I mean.”

“Yes.”

Her voice is oddly cold.

“Do death gods go to hell? I cant go to heaven or hell. What about you?”

He doesn’t answer for several minutes. She doesn’t speak either. Finally…

“I suppose we will end up in the same place, Y/N.”

“I'm glad.” She turns her face to look at him. “I’ll need something before you go.”

“Oh? And what is that?”

“The Shinigami eyes.”

At this, Ryuk turns his face as well. And they just stare at each other.

“Clever greedy impatient girl.” The insult is almost affectionate. “Are you truly that afraid to die alone?”

“Nobody should die alone. And this way, neither of us will half to. Half my lifespan for the Shinigami eyes. We’ll die at the same time.” She looks back up at the ceiling. He does too.

When he feels her fingers intertwining with his, as always, he doesn’t react.

“I never actually made that offer to you. Merely spoke of it.”

“I don’t care. I want the Shinigami eyes.”

He turns his face to her.

“Who am I to turn down such a lucrative deal?”

She sees his hand coming towards her face. Closes her eyes.

When she opens them again, the picture of her and some old friends on the wall is noticeably different. One face, the face of the friend who’d committed suicide years before, is clear and unblemished. The other faces each have a name and numbers above them.

And when she looks back at Ryuk, she sees that his hair is once again jet black. Eyes just as clear and sharp as she remembers. He leers at her. Squeezes her hand as she’s squeezing his.

“I’ll take that apple as well. If the offer is still there.”

She grins.

“You got a new lease on life and you STILL won’t try an orange?”

He scoffs.

[curious-menace]

Can you do headcanons of any Riddler getting cared for and gentle kisses from reader after getting beat up? He needs some loves.

SO I MAY HAVE SUGGESTED THAT MY ULTIMATE FANTASY IS TO GIVE RIDDLER A HUG WITH BACKRUBS AS HE TELLS ME ABOUT HIS DAY AND I STAND BY THAT WHOLE-HEARTEDLY .

i freaking love this stuff so im going to do all of them mwahahah

post asswoop riddlers getting loves

Arkham riddler

He’s VERY quiet, which knowing him and his inability to stop talking, is  bad news.

I paint arkham riddler as a cry baby and i stand by that. this is the hill i will die on. He’ll have dragged his sorry ass into your apartment or house , dripping blood on your floors but he wont bother calling for you. he’ll just sit at the table with his head in his hands having a lil pity party until you find him.

when you do finally get home, he’ll be looking like a kicked puppy. he’s gotten stuck in his own head, mentally beating himself up even more. he got a fright when you came in because he was so caught up he didn't even hear you at the door.

He’s literally sits there like a child with his arms up for you to come scoop him up. he’s not even sure why his first thought after getting beat up was to come here, he’s probably lead the cops here or something and that was so stupid and- you should probably give him a lil soft smooch on the head to stop him before he goes into a spiral.

he needs more emotional and mental care than physical. Talk to him while you're patching him up. any topic, it doesn't matter just keep him focused on your voice and not the one in his head calling him dumb.

he wont admit he wants to be held and coddled after something like this. get your softest blankie and 2 mugs of coco with marshmallows and just ramble at him. tell him about your day or ask him to explain something boring and complicated so he’s focusing on that rather than how upset he is. let him sit on your lap or between your legs on the sofa and watch how its made or mythbusters or something until he falls asleep. he should be ok again in the morning, he doesnt stay down for long. 

Blacklight Riddler

He’s used to getting his ass kicked, either by batman, the other rogues or once he’s a PI, by unhappy clients and the people he put away. He might be tiny but he’s pretty tough. 

even if he’s really hurting, his probably trying to crack jokes and tell blood and bruise related riddles. He doesn't like to see you worry so even if he’s in a lot of pain or a bit upset about things, he’s trying to make you smile.

he likes kisses on his bruises. even if he just banged his hand on the table he’ll come to you because he wants you to kiss it better. 

He’s a decent fighter, unlike a lot of riddlers who couldnt fight their way out of a paper bag. He can throw punches but he lacks in defence and with his bad knee, dodging can be a little hard. even if he wins the fight he’s still likely to need you to patch him up.

He likes kids plasters. like hello kitty and spongebob. no im not joking, he ALWAYS wanted them when he was little and his parents always said no. now he’s an adult he’s going to use them whenever he damn well pleases.

 if it was a particularly bad one, he’ll be ok in the moment even if he has to go to hospital. But he’s going to drop the facade at some point and let you see how upset he is. winding up in hospital after being beat was a common occurrence in childhood. even after doing it time and time again as an adult it doesn't make it any easier on him. he’ll want to stay in your bed, be close to you for few days until either he starts to heal or something snaps him out of his funk.

BTAS Riddler

he really prefers other people to do the fighting for him. well physically anyway. he can handle his own arguments...most of the time. He’s going to need you to nurse a bruised ego more than anything. he probably got dunked on my batman or crane and now he’s huffing.

i don't know if this counts as care and kisses but he clearly needs you around to keep his sorry ass alive. he hurt his side in a fight once and said he wasn't hurt. believable... until he started to act a little confused, a little dizzy. needless to say it worried you enough to take him to emergency care. 

He was obviously in agony by now but he was still fighting with you the entire drive there, insulting you and insisting he was fine. its a good job you took him when he did, turns out he’d ruptured his spleen and would probably be dead if you weren’t around to act like his common sense.

he still hasnt apologised for that. or any of the other times you insisted on medical care to stop him from pushing up daisies. he just pretends like you know he’s grateful so he doenst have to admit he’s bullheaded, stubborn and worst of all, wrong. 

if he has been seriously hurt, he acts more indignant about it than anything. he wants to be waited on and pampered while resting in bed. he can be a genuine pain to deal with, talking about how lucky you are to see him in such a vulnerable state and how you should be grateful he’s letting you do this for him.

He doesn't want to admit how much he actually needs you. his goons wont put up with him when he’s like this and he’s freaking paying them to do it. you do it for free and no matter how annoying he is you havent left him yet. he doesn't tell you but youve noticed he starts getting you more gifts about a week after he’s recovered. like its taken him a day or two to work out he should probably thank you for all you do.

Original Riddler

this riddler is just weird. like he gets a freaking hang nail and he pretends like he’s dying. but he could nearly lose a limb and he’ll say “tis but a scratch” and still try to hobble about like nothing is wrong.

actually he’s more like olaf “oh look i've been impaled.”. he probably tries to laugh off life threatening injuries like its nothing, taking maybe 3 steps before he collapses on his face in a blood puddle and lets out a tiny “help”

good luck moving his tall lanky ass around. better get a gurney and maybe those vets at the zoo who deal with giraffes. seriously if you want to take care of him you are going to need help or some sort of action plan and a go bag because with his limp butt this will not be easy.

he’s kinda like BTAS riddler in that he needs you to tell him the injury is serious. hes not dumb he just has a high pain threshold and genuinely doesn't realise that injuries are as bad as they are. 

he can be a bit of a baby while being patched up. he doesn't like a lot of blood or gore, it makes him feel a little sicky. better give him your phone to play with like a kid at the doctors or put the tv on for him to watch while you bandage  him. word of warning, he will pass out or throw up if you try to give him stitches.

i think you should focus your love and attention on him AFTER medical care. just focus on the job, be silent and as fast as possible to get it over with quickly. you should probably bring him something sweet too. no not just you, although you are sweet for looking after him. give him something sugary because he’s going to be light headed after seeing any blood. maybe you could give him a lolly for being a good patient. 

Telltale riddler

this riddler is essentially a metahuman. he can REALLY take a beating and bounce back fairly quickly. just look how many times batman punched him in the face and it barely stunned him! he doesnt usually need patched up after a fight. maybe just a lil smooch and some hugs

he did really need your help after the whole pact thing. having his friends abandon him hurt like hell, more than any physical injury ever could.

after that, he clings to you. almost obsessively so; we know he’s got some serious mental illnesses but he usually has the worst of it under control, even without meds. now? it seems like he’s experiencing ptsd and is afraid to go anywhere without you, like you might up and disappear if you arent in his line of sight at all times.

i think this riddler might need the most intense care from you. hugs and gentle reassurance wont be enough. you’re going to be responsible for taking him to therapy, keeping him taking his meds and grounding him to reality. this is the kind of responsibility you took on when you got involved with him but i doubt you realised how hard it would be. i cant promise it will all be worth it but i can promise he wont ever forget your kindness.

the kind of care he needs after such a hard knocking down is just stability. im not one for romance or any mushy gushy stuff but please just pour your love into the cracks in this poor mans soul.

its hard going, but he has his moments. his gallows sense of humor is still there and hey, after him being in and out and gone for so long, it might be nice to have him around more.  

Zero year riddler

INSUFFERABLE LITTLE SHIT THIS ONE. he could LITERALLY be bleeding out in your arms and he’d STILL be backseat driving on your medical skills. the temptation to just leave him there to bleed is INCREDIBLE.

he’ll drop the act eventually. he’ll ask and maybe even beg for your help. man has  no shame and all the self preservation instincts of a lemming. dont get me wrong, he can be a total coward some times, only looking out for himself . but when he’s actually hurt ? not a fuckin clue. does this head wound need an ice pack or heat pack? is this spurring blood wound worthy of medical care? no idea. he was a very sheltered child who never got so much as a bruise so he has no idea what to do when he’s hurt.

he gets the everloving shit kicked out of him on a clockwork basis. like you could hear knocking on your door at 3 am and already be at the table with a first aid kit like oh its tuesday riddler must have broken his nose.

he takes entirely too much joy in making you patch him up. youre starting to wonder if he’s doing it on purpose just to see you in your little apron and latex gloves . he’s getting off on this and you know it but god help you, you just  cant resist his dumb face asking for your help and would you also wear this pink nurses outfit while youre at it?

one time he lost a LOT of blood. he would be fine but he was pretty damn loopy from lightheadedness. while you were trying to get him into bed to rest he started flirting with you. can you believe the audacity? he’s lost 3 pints of blood and he’s still more focus on his libido? 

he’s actually going to be both humble and grateful for your help when he finally comes round. dont get me wrong, he’s still a bit of a prick but at least he says thank you for saving him before he demands you kiss all his booboos and ouchies. 

nonnie i am having a stroke. i was trying SO hard to just pick one but i COULDNT because i am WEAK for hurt and comfort.

theres a reason i have a tag that literally says “i have naughty hands and no self control”

someone needs to stage an intervention

got something you wana talk about? send me an ask or a dm! im always game to talk about our favorite curious menace 💚💜

[mandalorewhore]

Common Ground

Part 2 of Hunter  (formerly Hunter and Prey)

gif by @themandaloriandaily​

Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: SMUT, Oral Sex (fem recieving), Cock Warming, Descriptions of violence/blood , Edging (maybe?), Dirty talk, Praise kink, Size kink, Big Dick Mando, Blindfolded Sex Words: 11.7k AO3 LINK

Summary: Reader and Mando land on Nevarro to meet with Karga

A/N: im sorry to niceguy!Karga in season 2

This would be less awkward if you knew how to talk to the man. 

The awkwardness is probably one-sided though you doubt he’s brooding over what the two of you did last night in this cockpit. You’re not a blushing virgin afraid to talk about sex, but it would be nice if you actually knew  something you both had in common, since you’re going to be spending a lot of time together. The extent of your conversations have been about sex, mechanics, and killing people. That’s pretty fitting for the two of you, you suppose. He is… Officially? your bounty hunting partner now.

However, he’s very comfortable in silence, so much so that it seems to be a central part of his character, much like the armor strapped to his body. Is being reserved a part of the Mandalorian creed too, or does he just prefer it? Does he want to talk about how you sucked his dick mere hours after abandoning your jobs as mercenaries? What is he thinking about right now? You could probably ask him all this, you know. Your internal argument is boiling over like a forgotten pot as you ruminate in the passenger seat of the Crest’s cockpit.

    You woke up in his arms a few hours ago, curled up in the pilot seat together, your face feeling a bit grimey due to  not scrubbing it clean after he gave you that facial. Feeling cozy in the quiet moments that follow waking, you snuggled in closer to his warmth, still only separated by the thin layer of his undershirt. You started when his palm squeezed your shoulder, his way of letting you know he was already awake. 

There’s an unspoken feeling about the way he fell asleep in your presence. You may work together now, but you’re still virtual strangers and Mando is a professional. You doubt he’ll pass out in front of you again. 

Slumped in your seat, you mull over every second that passed between the two of you. Meanwhile, he’s just sitting there like a lump of metal. Unaffected. Impassive. If you didn’t have first-hand proof of the deliciously warm skin he hides, you would’ve passed him off  as a droid. 

Actually when you think about it… when it comes to conversation topics, maybe metal is the place to start. As in, the ship that is now your impromptu home for the foreseeable future. You’ve gleaned that the Crest is like home to the Mandalorian and, come to think of it, he seemingly opted to sleep on his little cot down in the ship’s hull instead of taking up a bunk back on the space station. If he were anyone else, the gesture would’ve been ostentatious. It gave the impression that he was ready to leave at any moment. 

But no one wants to confront a Mandalorian.

Bringing up the Crest is probably a safe option and you’re knowledgeable about ships. You can hold your ground when it comes to the technicalities of mechanics. Plus, you can be charming when you want to be; on merc jobs you weren’t put into the femme fatal role for no reason.  Although you’ve casually lured men to their death, you’re more nervous to chat with Mando. But you’re determined to try. Try to be appealing...

    “I’m curious… Once I have some credits saved up, would you be interested in adding mods to the Razor Crest? I haven’t gotten a good look yet, but I’m floating some ideas around.” You bite your lip automatically out of apprehension, but hoping it comes across as playful. You’re not out of line or anything; it's been hours since you last exchanged any words so it's not like you’ve been chatting his ear off. Still, you worry that you sound extra loud to someone who’s spent so long in stillness. 

“That may be useful. What were you thinking?” Mando’s response comes only a second later, and even though he faces the cockpit’s transparisteel windows as he speaks, you’re giddy at his swiftness to respond. 

    “Well, I would love to touch her up a little. There are some issues with the hyper-drive and coms that could be fixed pretty easy. As for modifying, I saw that you installed a mobile carbonite-freezing chamber for bounties?” He nods to affirm your guess. “I could move that ‘round to utilize the space for storage and better suit two people living here. Either install a bed that can swing down or-”

    “Separate beds are unnecessary. We can sleep in shifts or share the bunk.”

    “O-oh. Sound’s good.” You gulp, feeling a little warm. The implication makes you sweat even if he shot down your idea. “Well, upgrading the deflector shields would be a good idea. Protect her better, plus efficient heat dispersal during atmospheric flight would let us jump into hyperspace faster. If we need to run or just want to fuck off somewhere.”

    “Hm. That is a good idea. She’s fast but there's always room for improvement.” He accentuates his response by patting the console lightly, and something about the way his hand lingers gently on the surface reminds you of a parent touseling their child’s hair. A smile stretches across your face, finally relaxing a little after being so tense all morning. For someone that you thought was so serious, he sometimes reveals a sentimental side to his personality. It makes you want to ask him more, to know more about him and how he thinks, but you’re so nervous about asking him anything even slightly personal, anything that has to do with his preferences or opinions. Your short exchange about his ship went pretty smoothly you think, maybe you can ask him more, you’ll just stay on the topic of starships. That should be fine. 

    “Do you have a dream ship?” You blurt, sounding a little less casual than you were trying for. Oops. 

    He takes longer to respond this time, seemingly thinking the question over. “No. Maybe when I was younger. I have the Crest now, there isn’t a need to plan for another ship.” 

    There's that seriousness again, the way he responds to you makes you think that he has never had to answer hypothetical questions before. It makes perfect sense, the average person doesn’t go around asking tall, intimidating Mandolorians about their hobbies. What a Gonk Droid. I’m jealous he can get away with talking like that. Still, you do want to continue this conversation if only to hear his voice. “Nothin’ about planning Mando, just a little make-believe. Personally, I like an A-Wing, the RZ-1 variant is classic even if the 2 is flashier. X-Wings are neat too, minus the pigs flying them.” 

    A weird huff passes through his voice filter and he finally turns to face you. You’re caught off guard by the sudden eye-visor contact, so it’s a second later when you process what that noise was, and the realization makes you positively giddy. “Oh shit, did I make a Mandolorian laugh? Am I on Spice?” 

    “That’s funny- pigs don’t deserve the nice Starfighters.” He laughs again, clearer this time while warmth feelings bloom within you at his reaction. It’s so unbelievable to you that he’s here laughing at something you said. You never once heard a reaction like that from him before now. “Those fast ships are impressive and great for combat, but I need a bigger space… a YV-929 would suit my needs.”

    “Of course it would, there’s like 1000 guns on that blocky thing. Plus the Empire banned it and you like to break rules.” The ship he named is virtually the same build as the Razor Crest, just with more guns, which is amusing to you. 

Creature of habit, you think, finding yourself leaning subtly closer to his body with every exchange. You don’t think you’re imagining him doing the same.

    “16. Could add more though.” He murmurs and something in his voice makes you think that he isn’t being entirely humorous. 

Maker, he is probably mapping out all the baster mods he could stick on that bulky freighter. You’re still amused by his very literal sense of things. You settle back in your seat to observe the hyperspace light streaking across the cockpit, a comfortable silence falling over the cockpit.

As you sit there and ruminate, the topic of weapons brings forth a vague memory in your mind. 

Someone once told you that Mandalorians aren’t considered great fighters due only to reputation and rumor. Most people are aware that armor and weaponry is part of the Mandalorian culture, but fewer are aware that such items have religious significance, going much deeper than a learned skill. Mandalorians are revered as great warriors not just because of their physical training, but because fighting and waging battle is a form of prayer. 

Despite finding rumors about Mandalorians to be generally exaggerated, you feel this one may be true.

 You’re curious but afraid to ask him to elaborate. The fact that neither of you exchanged more than a few words when you worked together is proof of his preferred privacy. Even though you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t mind giving you some sort of explanation about his culture, you decide to avoid any personal questions. 

Plus you really don’t want to come across as asking about his helmet.

    You break the silence shyly, trying to smoothly bring up a different topic. “Down in the hull… I haven’t explored much of your ship, I don’t want to come across as snooping. But I’m wondering, what sort of manpower have you got stored here?” 

“I installed an armory. Do you want to see it?” 

Fuck yes you want to check it out, his personal collection must be a wet dream.

“Yes, I’d love to!” You reply excitedly. The weapons Mando carried were always fascinating. You especially admired that rifle he slung across his back. You’ve never seen it in action but you heard it evaporated its targets. The two spokes at the end made you wonder how it shot. There has to be different settings on the gun, it would be impractical to evaporate all your targets especially if you need to bring back bounties, dead or alive. The bullets he slung across his chest must be paired with the rifle based on their size and shape when you compare them to the rifle chamber. What sort of charge do they contain to completely disintegrate its victims?

You’re tapping your fingers on your bottom lip, calculating how the rifle might function when his leg brushes past you. Glancing up in surprise, you realize he’s already headed to the cockpit ladder, twisting his upper body as he turns his helmet to look back at you.

“Come on.” You’re unable to read his face but something in his body language makes you think he’s amused by you. Flushing red, you scramble upright from the leather seat to follow him down to his armory. He slides first down the ladder, not bothering to use the rungs. Being unfamiliar with the area you opt to carefully descend one portion at a time, unaware of the view you’re giving Mando. By the time you reach the bottom, he’s diverted his gaze. 

Tall body moving to a panel on the wall, he punches in a four-digit code, prompting a smooth metal cabinet on the opposite wall to slide open with a hiss. You shake your head at this. The man has a tiny metal cot but he installed a hydraulic system for his weapons cabinet. But when you look closer at the exhibit your jaw falls open.

Oh my… Now that’s sexy.

The two side doors hang open to reveal a space in the middle filled with large blasters. His mid-sized guns are stacked horizontally above each other while the longer rifles lay vertically to the right of the center display. The doors contain smaller handguns of varying design and purpose. Each weapon is unique, there is not a single inch of wasted space given to any blaster if it doesn’t have distinct properties. Eyes locked on the arsenal, you scoot forward and make grabby hands at the cabinet. 

“Oo, they’re beautiful! Can I- May I see?” You are immediately drawn to a cylindrical pistol mounted at the very top of the stack, the gun’s sight a smooth metal and grip warm brown. Despite its deadly properties, it is a fucking gun, something about it looks soft to the touch. You’re finding more and more that you enjoy the juxtaposition of lethality and softness. 

Even though you’ve made no specification on which gun you want to hold, Mando reaches out and selects the very gun you’re attracted to and hands it to you. I should stare less, it's like he can read my mind. Despite resolving to do so the thought is fuzzy, unimportant when you’re so excited about handling one of the prettiest pistols you’ve ever seen. Mando watches you from a few feet away. 

“Good choice. I usually conceal-carry that blaster since it’s small on me, looks like the perfect size for you though.” Mando’s compliment has you grinning up at him, feeling giddy and full of light, but you’re quickly drawn back to look at the gun. Turning the weapon over in your hands you admire the polished metal, the texture making a satisfying noise as you run your fingers on its silky surface. The weight is perfectly balanced as you aim it at the wall, lining up the sight with a seam in the metal paneling. 

“You can carry it from now on.” 

What? It’s a good thing you know your trigger safety otherwise you would’ve pulled the trigger in shock, probably ricocheting the blast into your head. The giddy energy drains from you, replaced by apprehension and confusion. Why is he giving me so much shit? 

Of course you’re thankful. You’re incredibly thankful to be on the Razor Crest at all; however you can’t help feeling as if you owe Mando on a level where you’re incapable of repaying him. He didn’t have to take you with him when he dropped Ran’s crew, he didn’t have to indulge your sexual fantasies, he didn’t have to comfort you, didn’t have to partner with you, and he doesn’t need to give you this blaster. It is certainly a collectible, a rarity. A Mandalorian wouldn’t have it on hand if it were some run of the mill E-11 handed out to every Stormtrooper in the Empire. 

But what can you even say to him? It would be incredibly awkward if you refused him right now. Your mind races.

Best focus on the easy stuff. As long as he doesn’t drop me off on some wasteland I’ll be fine. That blaster is too pretty to decline so with your willfulness broken by aesthetic pleasure, you holster the gun on your hip, opposite the blaster you already carry. 

“Thank you. I’ll put it to good use.” You try to inject as much gratefulness into your voice as possible, even though you still feel odd about taking it.

“Yes, you will. Get ready and come back to the cockpit, we’ll be on Nevarro in a hour.”

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

 You’re used to men like Greef Karga but that doesn’t mean they’ll stop being annoying.

The way he speaks like he’s owed something from you just because you’re listening, the way it’s clear that every decision he makes is in self-interest, the way he eyes the women around him, yourself included. He isn’t outright dismissive like some men; such as the guard placed behind him only having eyes for your partner; but you can tell he either doesn’t take you seriously or he is more concerned about how he can sexualize you. 

He definitely isn’t treating Mando as a joke. Annoying.

          But, it’s not all bad. You got a kick out of how a hush came over the dusty cantina when the Mandalorian entered. He had been walking behind you which, with a little imagination, gave the effect that they were all reacting to your presence instead. Even though in reality, no one had ever reacted to you that way unless they were leering. You like how they fear him. It's a turn-on. 

You wish they would fear you like that.

          Someone says your name, startling you out of your thoughts. You realize that everyone at the table is looking at you expectantly but you didn’t hear the question at all. Kriff, you need to show yourself up more. Mando’s reputation is practically handing you the job but you still need to sell your skills to get anything decent out of Karga. He’s so stingy with the quarry's, even with Mando despite how he kissed the Mandalorian’s ass when greeting him. You figure that Mando didn’t take on bounties often, which put his skills in high demand.

          “Uhh, sorry. A bit distracted. Can you repeat the question, please?” You reply, accentuating the please with a bat of your lashes while looking Karga full in the face. If he’s going to objectify you, you may as well play into it. Smiling, he leans forward and pushes a glass of Spotchka into your hands, lingering a little longer than necessary when your fingers meet.

          “I asked if you wanted a drink. Take it, I can see you need one.” He winks at you while you stare indignantly, wondering what he means by that. It’s not like you’re sweating bullets in here. You’ve been here countless times on countless planets. Seedy cantinas with seedier people. Hopefully, he’s just flirting and doesn’t think you’re nervous. Maybe the flirting is backfiring.

You grip the glass and wet your mouth with the drink, enjoying the burn for a moment. Mando tilts his helmet at the way you accept Karga’s drink, seemingly looking sideways at you. Narrowing your eyes at him, you drink again and turn back to Karga.

          “Thank you, the Spotchka here is lovely.” It’s average, but flattery can’t hurt. Karga laughs robustly at this.

          “It’s no Alderaan wine, but it’ll do.” He drains his glass then pours himself another, filling it to the brim before turning to your partner. “So, Mando! Word travels fast around here. I take it you’re a full-time guild member now! I’m not surprised, always took you for the loner type. In fact, I already updated your status to full-time before you landed.” Karga waits for a response from Mando but the man sits silently at your side. Unbothered, Karga continues, “But, I am surprised you stayed that long with Ran in the first place. Must be the pretty ladies he keeps around.”

          The comment makes you cringe but you still smile brightly back at him since what he is inferring is clear. Can he just register you already?

          “Not alone. She’s with me.” Mando’s reply is short and flat, with no reaction to how you’re attempting to work Karga’s attention, nor at the revelation that Mando’s departure from mercenary work has apparently spread across the sector. 

          Karga’s smile twists into a smirk as he glances between you and Mando, looking at both of you as if he wants to fit your bodies together like a puzzle. “Well, well, well Mando. Didn’t think you were the type. Is she a bed warmer?”

          Your grip tightens on the glass. What the fuck is he implying? You’re rising in your seat, about to let loose on Karga when a gloved hand settles on your shoulder and pulls you down. Excuse me? Do I have to go off on everyone here? Why the fu-

          “She’s my hunting partner, my equal. Don’t insult us again.” Oh okay, you don’t know why he stopped you and he still doesn’t sound all that offended, but at least he’s defending you. 

Not wanting to be spoken for, you add on, “I’m prepared with my information so that you can register me in the Bounty Hunters Guild. Pull up your holo, I’m done with the small talk.” Your back is rod-straight in the cantina booth, trying to look down at the Guild leader even if he’s seated higher than you. “Also, your Spotchka is shit.”

          Karga’s is unphased at your reactions, even rolling his eyes. He replies bluntly, “If you’re going to join my guild then you need to prove to me that I’m not wasting my pucks on you. Don’t rely on the Mandalorian’s reputation. If you aren't out of some brothel then you were a mercenary, were you not?”

At first, the audacity of Karga has you fuming, ready to stand again despite whatever Mando wants. However, as you’re looking out of the corner of your eye at the crowd you realize that the bodies filling the cantina are no longer milling around quite as naturally. It's subtle, to an untrained ear and eye not much has changed. The chatter around you remains at a consistent volume and no one is blatantly staring. But your senses are sharp enough to tell that everyone in this room is On Greef Karga’s side. If a fight broke out you’d likely lose, even with Mando being worth ten men and the shiny new blaster strapped to your hip. 

Also, your prospects with the guild would be fucked if you fought everyone right now, which is the whole reason you’re here. You have to play nice and it infuriates you… But you still need the job. 

Taking a deep breath to quiet your anger you look to your left away from Karga, only to be startled by Mando’s visor locked directly on you. Sharing a look, one that you can only guess the meaning behind, you find the patience to calm down. You turn back to Karga, locking eyes steadily.

“Sorry for insulting your drinks, that was petty of me. But I am not sorry about how you implied that Mando would keep some poor sex slave around, nor am I sorry for reacting that way. I’d like to start over… If you’ll accept my apology, I’ll accept yours.” You can’t help letting some stubbornness slip into your words. If he’s supposed to be your boss then you aren’t going to keep up a pretense of respect after that. Not without an apology. 

You’ve never given much thought to how you look to other people, how you affect the crowd when you enter a room. It’s not that you don’t think you’re pretty. Being assigned roles by Ran that allowed you to dress up and distract targets was a direct affirmation of how you looked, even if they were creeps. But when you walked into this place, the only heads that turned were for the Mandalorian. You've never had the experience of being scary to other people. You’re always having to prove yourself and show everyone that you’re someone who can handle what’s handed to them, an equal to every other hard character in the galaxy’s Outer Rim... it’s tiresome. 

Karga is looking at you again, a little differently this time. 

    “I respect you for being blunt. Do accept my apology.” He sounds sincere enough so you nod, lips drawn tight. Heavy metal suddenly settles on your knee, Mando’s vambrace is laying across the soft flesh on your upper thigh. He squeezes, oh stars. Now you’re feeling flushed for other reasons than anger. 

    “Do I get an apology?” Mando asks Karga quietly, voice frustratingly mild just like the other two times he’s spoken up in this booth. The other man grins at Mando, more jolly than he should be considering who he insulted. 

    “My apologies, Mando! Do stay with the guild, your skills are irreplaceable! I’m afraid my jokes can go too far.`` His response is light and humorous but no one is fooled by the tone. A Mandalorian is far too valuable to lose. 

    After a few seconds pass between the two men you clear your throat, annoyed by everyone dancing around each other while you’re still not signed up to hunt bounties. It’s your only purpose here but whatever. Karga directs his smile at you, pulling his holo from behind him out of his guard’s hand.

    “I haven’t forgotten about you, sweetheart. Now, I’m going to put your basic details in… Do you happen to be registered elsewhere, such as under an Identichip?” You shake your head; you always worked behind a moniker. “Great! That makes this easy for me. Simply provide a name, real or not, and I’ll set up a chain code so quarries are tied to your data.” 

    You provide your name while Karga fiddles around on the device. It’s unclear if it is really that complicated to work the thing or if he is just stalling. This feels a little too easy so far. Didn’t he make a huge fuss about proving yourself? You decide to ask outright, wanting to bring it up instead of waiting around for him to finish.

    “I thought I needed to prove myself to you. Aren’t you worried about wasting pucks?” You were trying to tease but the bite in your voice can’t be helped. You worry you might’ve gone too far when Karga looks up at you with open annoyance.

    “Do you want to go out back and shoot a few bottles down? Seems childish to me.” He huffs out a short breath and returns to his holo. “I know that you worked with Ran’s crew on mercenary missions which grants you some cred. You can tell me what your specialties were on such jobs and it might convince me to give you the mid-level pucks instead of entry.”

    This is unfair, everyone knows it, he’s the one who told you to prove yourself and now he’s making you feel stupid for reminding him. He’s the one who was so concerned about wasting his precious pucks. But now that you’re here… you might actually be able to talk Karga into giving you a better quarry. Taking a deep breath, you start to list your qualifications.

    “On mercenary jobs, I usually took a stealth role due to my stature. For certain missions, I would dress to infiltrate a group, sometimes carrying hidden weapons but mostly I would conceal poison in my jewelry, skin powder, or anything similar. I’m a great shot and am knowledgeable about starships. When I first started I had to work my way up the ranks, the lowest being mechanics. Within a year I managed to go from handywoman to assassin... There’s more if you want to hear, although I can’t directly prove anything.” You wish you could actually show all these skills to him instead of just telling him. Karga is right, shooting down dusty bottles like some sort of carnival game would be pretty useless, but at least it would feel more substantial than this. 

You’re about to open your mouth and tell Karga more when you’re interrupted by Mando, and he finally sounds emotive, no longer inscrutable in tone. “This is all true. I haven’t worked closely with her on every job but I noticed her when I did. Her stealth was critical to our success during hits. She often worked on my starship. The Crest always came out in better shape once she looked at it.” You’re not sure what emotion is in his voice but whatever it is, it reminds you that his hand is still resting on your knee under the table.

Trying not to smile too widely, you bring your hand down on top of the one on your leg, giving it a pat of thanks. Karga’s eyes follow your movement but thankfully he stays silent, leaning back with a pensive look.

“Alright, this is all very interesting. Tell you what, and don’t take this as an insult, you can either have two entry-level pucks or one mid-tier. It all adds up to the same amount of credits, however, the mid-tier quarries will boost your rank… Mid also comes with a time constraint.” 

There’s always a catch with this man you think, a little displeased, but at the same time, you understand that he can’t maintain his business if all pucks were given away in good faith. Mid-tier seems like the best deal, and you aren’t just here for the money. Presumably, this will be your job for a while so you may as well aim ambitiously. 

“What are the last known coordinates of the mid-tier bounties?” You ask him, trying to sound like you’ve not already decided to take it. 

“One for Corellia and one for Mimban. Neighboring planets.” You grimace, recognizing the names. How lovely, you get to choose between two shitholes. Karga is correct, the planets are right next to each other, so at least you don’t have to worry about fuel. Corellia is more dangerous but the planet is explored thoroughly when compared to Mimban and you’ve already been to Corellia once.

“I’ll take the Corellian bounty, thank you.” Karga slides the puck across the table with an unpleasant scrape before drawing out three more, stacking them in front of the Mandalorian one by one.

“Two are bail jumpers but the credits for each are decent. I also threw in one S level criminal, let's see how you do with that one now that you’re dedicated to my wonderful guild.” Karga grins at Mando so widely that it is almost a grimace. Well, he didn’t have to beg for the good pucks. Yeesh… Mando’s arm lifts from your knee and he gathers the pucks wordlessly.

Mando moves to leave, rising quickly from the booth and leaving you scrambling behind him, slipping your puck in the pocket on your pants.  He’s at the door by the time you remember to say goodbye to Karga. Not wanting to be rude even if you don’t really like him, you turn and wave. “Um, bye! Take care.” 

He waves back. “You as well, girl.” 

A powerful hand grips your forearm and pulls you none too gently to the doors and out into the acrid, volcanic air.

----------------   

    It would be nice if the man who called you his equal an hour ago would tell you his plans. Instead, he had placed a small bag of credits in your palm and told you to go get some food and wait. You couldn’t find it in yourself to snap at him since you were starving, the last time you ate was probably several days ago, before Cantonica. Your hunger might explain the snippiness you’ve felt all day, actually.

    Having finished your meal of dubious-looking soup, you get up to explore a bit before heading back to the ship. The settlement is small and you think it may be the only town on the planet or at least the only one in the area. The land around you is flat enough to see for miles. It’s impressive that Mando disappeared considering the lack of terrain to hide behind. He must be in the city somewhere. 

    As you wander through the busy main strip, peering at different vendors and booths, you start to feel dejected. Mando defended you, spoke up for you, and even backed up your claims so that you’d look better in front of Karga. Then he just… disappeared. Somewhere. No communication. That's fine.

    It’s a little worrisome, the speed at which you’ve become attached to the man. You’ve been together for less than three days, and you already feel weird being alone. You know that you’re being unfair to yourself right now, it's not abnormal to feel lost on a foreign planet plus you literally just lost everything you’ve worked for as a mercenary. But in the end...

    Being here, alone and penniless, reminds you of home, the one you had as a child. It’s something you try to forget about. 

    Swallowing the memories away into that off-limits area within yourself, you decide to leave the bustling road and wander down a dingy alley. Probably not the smartest move but you do have two blasters on your hip. The sounds of the crowd fade in the background as you wander farther and farther down the twisting path. 

    It’s almost funny how quickly things go south. 

Mere minutes later, you find yourself backed up into a wall with two Rodians aiming their blasters at you, your huddled form reflected in their massive, black eyes. One of them jabs your arm with his gun saying something in that grating, echoey voice that most Rodians speak with. You get that they’re both aiming deadly weapons at you but you’re honestly just irritated. 

    “I don’t have credits on me fellas, you can search me but you won't find shit.” They must understand Basic because one of them pins you to the wall while the other pats your body down, searching for anything valuable. Pulling the empty credit pouch from your belt and throwing it to the ground, he twists you to face the wall, grabbing at one of your blasters. The rare one that Mando just gave you. You start to panic now, the positioning of your bodies making you nervous as you realize how vulnerable you are, fearful that they aren’t just looking for something to steal. Kicking backward at the Rodian pinning your arms, you start to struggle against them, trying hard to wiggle free and pull your other blaster.

    You must’ve connected with a kneecap because you hear a sickening crunch at the same time the Rodian howls, falling to the ground. His companion makes a furious sound then lashes out at your face, fingertips just barely connecting with your cheek as you duck slightly too late. Your face stings and feels wet, his gloves seem to have sharp points on the ends. You pray that they aren’t spiked with poison. 

    The injured member is still preoccupied with his hyperextended knee, granting you just enough time to pull the other blaster from your hip before he joins his partner and turns on you. You throw yourself to the ground, aiming at the same time and squeezing the trigger right before you hit the earth. The shot connects with the Rodian who swung at you and he falls to the ground, shriek cut short. Twisting to your side so you can attempt an evasive roll, you attempt to line the sight up with the chest of your living assailant but your shoulder connects with debris on the ground, jerking it out of your smooth movement. 

The blast misses by a few inches. 

The pain from whatever you landed on shoots to your fingertips, numbing them. Noticing your distraction, he hurls his body at you thankfully unable to jump accurately due to the injury you gave him. Despite that, he lands on your legs and starts to drag you toward him, abandoning his blaster in his rage while dirt billows around your struggling bodies.

    You’re terrified, fear making you clumsy as you handle your blaster. You don’t want to die being strangled by some alien in this dirty alley but the numbness in your fingers has you moving slower than usual, hand heavy as you try to aim again. Sucking in a deep breath you scream, hoping that someone on the busy strip will hear you. But no one is coming for you and there is no time to wait. Panicked, you fire in the direction of the Rodian, not taking care to calculate possible ricochet points in the area. A shot connects, his heavy body falling on your hips, dead.

    Fingers still numb, you hurtle upwards and try to wipe the dust out of your eyes to look at the bodies. The first Rodian you shot is a few feet away, slumped against the wall you were pinned to, blaster marks littering the brick surface from your panicked shots. Disgusted, you shove the dead body off of your legs and stand up.

 As you analyze the second alien you realize something doesn’t add up here. 

Somehow the blaster shot that killed him seems to be on the back of his head. How is that possible? Did I manage to reflect it off something and hit him from behind? You’re approaching the body to look for other possible causes of death when a large shadow leaps from the rooftop, landing heavily in a cloud of dust. You curse and aim your blaster at his head, pulling the trigger before you realize who it is.

He’s lucky his helmet is pure Beskar.

“Mando! What the fuck, I could’ve killed you!” Stomach feeling like it’s full of rocks, you march up to the man and slam a fist into his chest plate, hard. Looking up into his visor you feel a flash of misguided anger, lifting your fist to pound on his armor again. “Where the fuck were you anyway?!”

A large hand flashes up to catch your wrist before it can connect with his chest. He looks at you darkly. “Do you always hit people to thank them?” he asks, while his other hand reholsters the silver blaster back onto your hip.

“What do you mean, you-” The pieces connect in your mind, the impossible blaster shot in the back of the head of the Rodian and Mando’s positioning on the roof. 

He saved your ass. Again. 

You already realize your anger is misdirected, he didn’t do anything to warrant it. But the adrenaline and fear paired with your entire experience on Nevarro have wound you up to the point of lashing out. You shouldn’t be mad at him, and you should definitely apologize for almost killing him. Also, you should be thanking him for saving you even though you probably would’ve survived the mugging anyway. That criminal was unarmed at the end there. 

But you don’t care. You weirdly want to argue with him, to try and break that cool attitude he’s been maintaining nearly all day.

“I could’ve gotten him easily. If I didn’t hurt my arm he would’ve been dead before you arrived, also you didn’t answer my fucking question. I thought I was your equal, Mando.” You mock his earlier phrasing from the cantina, hoping he’ll snap and say something back. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he does something so strange that all the turbulent emotions you’ve been harboring fly out of your body in one instant.

Bringing up one glove to cover your eyes, he holds the hand you punched him with at the bottom edge of his helmet, pushing it up with your clasped fingers. There is a quiet hiss and you can feel the weight of metal digging into your knuckles as the Beskar lifts. Your fingers meet with soft lips, coarse facial hair brushing your skin as he presses a kiss on the blossoming bruises there. Heat rushes to your cheeks and you suddenly can’t remember what you were yelling about. 

It’s odd. You’ve seen the most intimate parts of him but only now, having felt his lips, do you truly recognize how rawly human he is. 

Too soon- he draws away, the helmet settles back on his head. You step back blinking as the light hits your eyes, cradling your hand to your chest like it's been hurt. Which you guess it has. You can’t really feel it. 

Unable to meet his gaze you stare at his boots, “You’re weird and I don’t understand you.” Your words sound embarrassingly breathless.

    He chuckles quietly. “Good.” And after a beat of silence- “Do I get an apology?” 

Annoyed at how he mirrored you throwing his words back at him, you look up glaring, but you’re unable to put any actual heat into your halfhearted expression. You’re still thinking about how soft his lips felt plus, you actually feel bad for lashing out at him.

“Yes, um, I’m sorry Mando, I was only mad because I was scared. I actually could’ve killed you, and those guys almost killed me- or worse.” You shrug, eyes round as you look at the violent scene in the alley. “Plus Karga is an asshole and you disappeared, telling me to wait around like a kid. I was in a bad mood.”

“Yeah.” He offers shortly. Is he gonna say more or- “Karga is an asshole.”

“...Is that all you’re going to address.”

“You’re a good shot. You could’ve killed these muggers without me, I just didn’t want you hurt.” He smoothes away a strand of hair from your cheek, tucking it behind your ear before gripping your chin, twisting your head to look at the scratches the Rodian left. “Pretty girl.”

Flushing red again while frozen in his grip, you stand there with him as he examines your face. His gaze is piercing, and you don’t know what he’s staring at. It doesn’t take this long to examine a face. You think he’s just looking at you.

“Let’s get back to the ship, that scratch needs some Bacta gel.” He drops his arm abruptly causing you to sway at the loss of an anchor. Hand flashing out to grip his bicep, you regain your balance before starting to pull him along, heading to the street. 

----------------   

The walk back to the Crest is short.

 You don’t know your way around this city but shipyards are easy enough to find. You recognize the signs pointing it out after your time spent as a mechanic, streets gradually widening to form into a flat strip of land for the vessels, heavy machinery appearing here and there. As you walk, you oddly find yourself getting dizzy, steps starting to drag as you realize you may have injured yourself in the struggle. You can’t recall if you hit your head or if anyone hurt you aside from the gash on your cheek, which has begun to throb. Did you knock your head on the alley wall? 

The Mandalorian grunts behind you when you trip, quickly overtaking your pace to throw your arm over his elbow, then walking at your side and subtly holding you steady. The Razor Crest rises into view over the horizon, so you speed up, relieved. You want to sit down so badly that you even try to jog but Mando holds you back. His helmet ducks down next to your ear.

“Don’t overexert yourself. I want to make sure that scratch isn’t poisoned.” He murmurs, voice overwhelmingly low. Your stomach twists with desire and surprise at the tone of it, he sounds like he’s flirting with you. 

“Does danger turn you on or something?” You blurt, wondering if there is a pattern to the man's desires. He did let you suck him off right after yesterday's conflict and now he seems to be coming onto you after an attempted mugging. Is this a Mandalorian thing? Weirdo. He doesn’t answer you, but the ship is right there so you break away and march up to the lowering ramp. 

You pause in the middle of the hull noticing some changes. The small cot seems to be upgraded, a patterned blanket is folded at the end and there is even a pillow. That sorry excuse of a fresher is more orderly too, shower hose hung from the ceiling like an actual, well, shower. There’s a sliding metal door for privacy installed on the entrance now too. The previously barren hull has a touch of coziness now, not enough to get in the way of efficiency, but everything is just a little more livable. It is unlikely that he did this just because you live with him now but the gesture is still thoughtful.

“Is this what you were doing?” You ask excitedly, walking across the room to sit on the end of the cot. 

“Not the entire time.” He answers vaguely, fiddling with his vambrace to close the ramp and flick the lights on. You just sigh in response, laying back against the bed, the thin mattress has a soft squish that cradles your sore body. Eyes sliding shut you take in the lovely sensation for a few moments. A shadow covers the light behind your eyelids. You open them to peek at the end of the bed, already feeling a blush hot on your cheeks.

Mando is standing there, towering over you with his legs just brushing your dangling lower half. He leans over your frame, arm reaching over you like he’s going to prop himself on top of your body. Your heart pounds as he comes close enough to settle his hand next to your head, helmet hovering right above your forehead. The visor tilts down to look at you frozen underneath him, heat pooling in your lower belly. An almost inaudible hum comes through the voice filter sounding like the beginning of a word as if he were about to say something but decided against it. 

You find your voice, asking him in a trembling whisper. ‘Wha-what? Did you say something?”

He makes that low noise again, replying, “Those scratches need Bacta,” before he gently shoves his hand under your shoulder and pulls, sitting you upright at the end of the cot. 

Your eyes are round, lips pursed in confusion. Honestly, you forgot all about that. 

“O-Oh yeah…” You manage to stutter out as Mando backs up from the opening, making his way to the storage shelves to rummage around. He comes back to the cot with a tin box, undoing the clasps to fish out a tube of gel and gauze. The imagery of medical equipment reminds you of the throbbing on your cheek, which is now accompanied by a throbbing in your cunt. Very conflicting feelings.

“There’s no discoloration or swelling, you’re likely not poisoned.” He starts wiping at your jaw with a wet fabric that smells of chemicals, cleaning off the rust-colored blood that dried there. “How are you feeling?”

“Ummm, fine pretty much.” His gentle motions make it hard to think, the swiping over your skin is so gentle that you’re zoning out. That is until he reaches the actual wound, which stings harshly from whatever liquid is saturating the fabric. You flinch, “Ouch! Well, it hurts now.”

“That means it's working.” Mando picks up the gel and dabs it on your cheek which helps to soothe the sting. “You say you feel fine yet you were stumbling around a minute ago. Are you sure you’re alright?” 

His question is sweet but you don’t like how he points out your loss of balance. It both concerns you and is slightly embarrassing. Are you alright? You aren't sure, the stumbling could’ve been from a number of things, exhaustion, blood loss, or any other affliction. You feel worried now, grabbing at Mando’s free arm and locking eyes with the visor.

“I-I’m not sure… I’m kinda freaked out, is it possible that a toxin could have a delayed-release? What if I kneel over while we’re in hyperspace?” You finish the sentence a little high-pitched, unable to hide the worry in your voice. The Mandalorian circles your wrist with his fingers, bringing your hand to rest on top of your leg and placing his palm over it. His thumb rubs soothingly over your knuckles. 

“I don’t think you’re in any danger. I’ll take a blood sample for testing then we can stay on Nevarro for an hour, just in case.” You make a sad noise when he removes his hand from yours, but he’s already sifting through the box of medical supplies, probably to find something to test your blood with. Pulling out a tube he turns to you and holds your hand again, which makes you smile until you realize the tube contains a needlepoint to prick your finger with. Oh yuck, you hate needles. A life spent surrounded by danger and that tiny jab still makes you nervous. Breaking out into a cold sweat, you look away as Mando jabs your pointer finger; he must’ve noticed your reaction because his thumb starts up that soothing pattern again. 

“You’re a trained mercenary who is scared of needles?” His tone isn’t mocking, he seems to be trying to distract you. You just stick your tongue out at him instead of verbally responding, worried that your voice will shake. For some reason, Mando freezes at this, one arm halfway to the metal box, the tube of your blood in hand. It is so odd of him that you instantly take note of the reaction, wondering what you did. After a second he starts jerkily moving again, laying a small strip of paper down and dripping your blood on it. He pointedly keeps his gaze on the paper, refusing to face you even when you poke at him. 

‘What? I can’t stick my tongue out at you?” You prod him again trying to provoke a response. You gasp when his hand flashes up and stops your finger in its path, his thick fingers wrapped around your wrist just like when you punched him in the alley.

“Not,” he punctuates the word by dragging your hand down his waist, “When it reminds me of my cock down your throat.”

Your clit throbs again, slickness starting to gather between your legs. “Ummm… sorry?” You reply dumbly, throat going dry when he presses your palm into his growing bulge with a groan. 

His helmet glances at the strip of paper again. “Results are normal. We should still stay on the planet for an hour, just in case… How will we fill the time?”

You don’t know how to respond. Any former thoughts you had in your mind have flown away, leaving you blank. Staring at Mando, your mind races to form a decent response, but you must’ve hesitated for too long because he rolls his hips into your hand, fully hard now. 

Whining, you lean toward him reaching out your free hand to wrap around his neck, but he moves away from your touch leaving you flushed on the cot. His helmet looks you up and down, contemplating something.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asks for the second time, voice an octave lower than before. He picks up the roll of gauze, unused at this point, and holds it halfway lifted in the air in front of you. You aren’t sure what he is going to use it for, you assumed to dress the wound but from the way he is holding it, he must have other ideas. He would’ve already patched you up if this were just about the fabric’s typical function.

“I’m feeling fine. The gel is working.” It’s the truth. You can’t feel your cheek throbbing anymore. The Bacta in your bloodstream has a calming effect as well, soothing your anxiety from before. You feel good even, clear-minded and thrumming with energy. You can’t imagine what he is planning but you know you want him so badly it hurts. Your heart quickens.

“Mando…” You breathe, the way you say his name is both a question and a prompt. He answers by unrolling a strip of gauze and holding it out in front of your face. The breathing through his modulator is audible now, pants heavy with desire. 

“I cant- I can’t go slowly, if I fuck you right now. I want to try something else.” You nod fervently, completely ready for whatever he is thinking of doing to you however, you’re admittedly confused when he starts wrapping the gauze around your head and over your eyes. Mando unrolls several layers of gauze, a decently thick strip obstructing your vision to the point where little light penetrates the fabric. His voice startles you when you hear it right by your ear, asking, “Is this okay?”

You’re still wordless, nodding in response again. Mando hums and parts your legs with his hips, pulling you to his body and grinding against you. You mewl into the empty space in front of you and fling your arms out to find him, suddenly needing to feel as much of him as you can reach. 

Hands connecting with his shoulders, you pull him down hard as if you were going to kiss him. The helmet bumps you in the face instead. 

“Oops..” You murmur, embarrassed. Admittedly, you forgot all about the armor barrier between your bodies. Mando huffs softly and bumps you again, gently as to not hurt you with the heavy metal. 

“Wanna guess my idea? “ He asks, sliding down your body, his fingers trailing over every inch of you, touching you as if to replace him kissing down your body. He reaches your hips and pauses there. You can’t see anything but you’re guessing he is staring at you, the thin leggings don’t leave much to the imagination. A finger presses onto your clothed slit, running up and down the length of your pussy to gather the wetness there. You can feel yourself soaking through your clothing, Mando’s fingertip is gliding wetly along your folds as if you were unclothed. You arch into his touch, needing more from him; the overwhelming sensation has you falling back onto the cot, laying there with your legs parted and the Mandalorian still between your legs.

The world feels like it’s spinning for a multitude of reasons, first and foremost being the desire you feel for the man crouched before you. Other, more complex thoughts on the situation swirl in your mind, paralyzing you with their intensity. You honestly didn’t think he would want you sexually again, especially not so soon. It just didn’t make sense for your idea of the Mandalorian, the image you carry of him as a person, all based on your time together even if much of that time was spent living separate lives. He flirted and inferred to sex a few times today, plus there was that kiss he lay on your bruised knuckles earlier. He defended you, backed up your claims, and spoke of respecting you and your skills. He’s done so much for you today, but you’re still blindsided as you sit here before him, unseeing in more ways than one. Most of all... you can’t stop thinking about that kiss.

Seconds after you physically attacked him and he offers you a kiss. It was the absolute last outcome you expected from your efforts to taunt him, you wonder if he’s even allowed to do that considering his vow to never show his face. You knew he was actively sexual just from your awful experiences on the mercenary station, although you never gave much thought to that drive. It didn’t need much thought, in your opinion. He is a man after all. Face bared or hidden away from the galaxy he still has needs, even if he is devoted to a religion that you can barely fathom the depths of. Your wants and needs seem minuscule next to the enigma of the Mandalorian. 

This all seems unimportant when his fingers hook in the waistband of your leggings and pull. You whimper and lift your hips, trying desperately to speed up the process and bare yourself to him. The blasters you carry are still attached to your waist but you don’t try to remove them. Sex and guns pair together perfectly for the man.

Cool air hits your pussy at the same moment he moans low in his throat. “Fuck, look at you. Beautiful.” 

That reminds you, “Can’t look, can I? N-not like this…” You still weren’t sure about the gauze blindfold he secured over your eyes, your only idea so far is that he must be into this sort of thing. Not that you’re complaining. The temporary loss of sight has heightened every other sense you have, especially touch and sound. You’re certain you’ll remember every word of this encounter for the rest of your life. He’s complimented you several times over the past few days. Pretty. Beautiful. You’ll never forget that. 

“Still haven’t guessed?” The Mandalorian rumbles at your thigh, pulling your pants off your ankles and spreading your legs as wide as the cot doorway will allow. A short growl rips from his throat, his touch leaving your thighs much to your dismay as he fumbles with something. There is a heavy thud that you can't make sense of, he had to have set something large on the ground to make that noise but you don’t know what- oh. Oh, stars I can feel his breath. 

He took his helmet off. For you. The pieces are falling in place quickly but you can’t react to it- you can’t even breathe, every implication of his gesture setting your world ablaze. Your heart is pounding, arms stretched out from the tension you hold in your limbs, you need an anchor, anything-

There's a hot puff of air on your clit and gloveless fingers digging into your thighs. He must’ve removed those too.

It’s like you’ve been sucked into a stasis chamber, the buzz of your cerebral cortex halting all efforts to process what’s happening, enveloped in a place so quiet that you feel fucking crazy. The anticipation is killing you, you’re going to die here and that’s alright, that’s fine, you’d love to die here, in fact- wait where is he? His face is somewhere near your aching center, you know this because you can feel each breath he exhales ghosting over your pussy, the muscles in your hips want to squirm and seek him out but you can’t. Not with all this atmospheric pressure gathering, the weighted air pressing harder and harder down on you and you know you’re about to break. But you’re terrified you’ll disrupt the spell that keeps you both frozen here, still and aching with pleasure. You’re gathering the courage to make the first move when Mando finally breaks the silence.

“From now on,” you interrupt him with a gasp at how different he sounds without the voice filter, the tone is so much fuller and warm, but he then continues unperturbed, “This is fucking mine.”

Your yelp echos off the walls when his hot, skillful tongue liiicks up your slit, flicking at the very top of its path off of your clit. 

Fuck this feels so good, this feels so good, how does it feel like this, so fucking amazing? He barely even talks, how is he so dexterous with his tongue? Tortured noises fall out of your throat as Mando licks through your folds, trying to taste everything his mouth can possibly reach. He rolls his tongue repeatedly over your clit making you tense up and shake from the overwhelming sensation. There's a sound in the hull, you can barely discern the source of it at first but you suddenly realize it coming from your own mouth, a filthy mantra falling from your tongue.

Mando-Mando-Mando-Don’t stop- Please dont-Mando

He stops.

“Hey! What-” Your hands fly down and flounder around finding soft locks of hair and immediately latching on for dear life. Impatiently tugging at his scalp, you try to scoot down and find his talented tongue, your clit feeling cold and achy without his touch. But he’s so strong, a solid pillar of immovable stone and you can’t budge him at all, his only reaction being a deep growl when you yank a little too hard on his head. You must’ve pissed him off because one hand is suddenly on your heat, cupping your pussy with his palm but leaving a gap between your bodies, torturing you with the lack of friction. You whine pathetically at this game. 

“Mando-fuck- why… pleeeaaase.” His touch leaves you entirely and you’re more desperate than ever, writhing to the point where you almost slide off the thin mattress onto the floor. Your inner thighs connect with broad hips again, this time without the barrier of your leggings between you. When your cunt presses into his crotch you realize you can feel more than the cloth of his dark pants, he must’ve pulled his cock out because you can feel his skin, the skin of his cock brushing over you plus just a patch of it from where the hem of his pants is pulled under his balls. A ragged sound tears from both of you when his thick length parts your lips, grinding against your clit.

“I-I thought you weren’t, I mean you said-” 

“I’m not g-going to fuck you-” he gasps out, voice breaking despite the clear determination in his response, “not yet. I want you to use me and make yourself-fuck- cum. Fuck yourself on me.”

You’re speechless, there are absolutely no words in any of the Galaxy’s countless languages, known or unknown, that can succinctly express just how fucking turned on his suggestion makes you. Is this his way of giving back to you after you made him cum the night before? You don’t know, fuck- you don’t care either. Fuck whatever complex you had about owing him, you deserve this and you want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your fucking life. 

His broad body is propped over yours, cock grinding into you over and over again as he rolls his hips and groans out, “Well? You want it like this, pretty girl? Or do you-” 

You interrupt him by reaching between your legs and finding his cock, pushing it down your lips to your aching hole. He sucks in a sharp breath and everything is frozen in that quiet place again, just for a split second, before you press his length into your body, sinking down to the hilt. 

A broken sound comes out of you, your throat so tight that your vocal cords can’t rub together to produce anything louder than a squeak. However, the Mandalorian is not without his words, a string of curses tumbling from him in that gorgeous, rough voice. Fuck, holy fuck, you wish you could hear him speak like that for the rest of time, his real voice without the modulator hits you straight in the gut. He called you beautiful yet he doesn’t realize the power of his beauty has completely destroyed you. You’ll do anything for him, for that voice. When he claimed your pussy as his you realized that there was never a point in time where it didn’t belong to him. The Mandalorian moves mountains with his claims. 

He is like a mountain himself, completely stilling his body the second you let him inside you. You clench down on his thick length and drag yourself off of him, leaving only the swollen head inside your hole. You’re burning up, a sweat breaking out over your entire body as you try to take his cock. He’s so thick inside you, stars you can't control your fluttering lower muscles that pulse from the strain. The saliva and slickness helped him slide inside initially but now you’re clenched around him painfully tight as you try and adjust to his size. He lays so still for you, still muttering curses at the feeling of you, yet patient as you work yourself on his cock. But at some point, you can’t help letting out a little wail when you fuck yourself on him, the debilitating mix of pain and pleasure is fucking overwhelming and he can tell you’re struggling.

Mando settles lower on your body, elbows next to your head and armored torso brushing against your upper half, the ridges on his cuirass catching your nipples through your shirt. The movement slightly ruts his hips, an inch of his cock entering you accidentally. You swear and freeze at the sensation, face screwing up-it’s so good but you hurt just slightly. His mouth must be close to your face because you can feel his breath on your skin when he starts whispering filthy encouragement. 

“You’re doing so fucking good for me, taking my cock- fuck you’re so tight, how are you so tight- Maker that has to hurt, you can do it baby, keep-keep trying.” The elbow to your right lifts off the thin mattress, his hand caressing down your body, over your breasts, down your side, gentle trails from his fingertips ghosting over your skin and sending tingles all over. This helps to relax your muscles a little, you feel the walls of your cunt loosen just enough to relieve the uncomfortable ache. Wetness gathers around his cock from his encouragement, as you slide with more ease along him grinding yourself up and down on his solid cock.

It is fucking indescribable, a nearly out of body experience fucking yourself on him, every time you bottom out the thick head presses into a spot that sends flashes of white behind your eyelids. You can't even moan right now, the only noises you manage are shuddering gasps and whines as you feel yourself rise higher and higher. The peak is right there, you can feel it, you’re right fucking there-

“M-Mando, I’m gonna-gonna-fuck, I’m going-I-” You’re frantic, unable to string together the words 

The hand exploring your body diverts its path, reaching between your legs to rub strong circles around your clit.

He’s saying something to you but you can’t understand him, a rush of blood in your ears drowns out all other senses, the only thing you can feel is your blinding climax and the thick cock in your body. You’re clamped down tight on him as the sensation rips through you, building you up and destroying you over and over again. You can’t comprehend how he has the control to just hold himself there, you feel like you’re being wrung dry with how tightly you clench around him with each pulse of your orgasm. Eventually, the white noise fades from your ears and sensation returns to the rest of you, limbs tingling as you stretch the taut muscles.

Mando is trembling above you, arms shaking from the effort of propping himself up for so long. A soft noise leaves you and you wrap your arms around him, trying to soothe the tightness in his muscles like he did for you but the armor gets in your way. He makes a low noise in his throat when you skim over his side, finally allowing himself to rest when he lays on top of you, one arm still holding his full weight back so as to not crush you. You reach an arm under his shirt trying to feel more of his skin, but the padding and metal still attached to his body prevent you from moving more than a few inches.

This time, you’re first to break the silence, “What did-what were you saying?” you ask, not wanting to miss anything he says to you in his real, unfiltered voice. He doesn’t say or do anything at first, his hesitation lasting long enough that you resign yourself to never knowing. But then he lifts his head from where it lays next to yours and you feel the sharp tip of his nose brush your good cheek, over the bridge of your nose to the other side, then press closer into you as his lips meet yours. 

His kiss is so gentle that you forget he’s still hard inside you. All you can think about is the heat of his mouth crushing against yours, pressure held back enough so that he doesn’t dig into your injured cheek but filled with a promise of the energy he holds in his powerful body. You fucking hate those Rodians more than ever because you would give anything for him to kiss you with his full strength right now, holding back nothing. 

But soon -too soon, he draws back from your mouth and pulls his cock out of you. You blush at the obscene noise your wetness makes as he curses and wrenches the last inch away from your pussy, leaving you empty.

‘Come back to me…” You whisper desperately, reaching out for him.

“Fuck I can’t- I don’t want to hurt you.” Mando spits out, sounding wrecked, “I want to so fucking bad but I-”

You try pleading with him, wanting him to feel just as much blinding pleasure as you did from the way your bodies fit so perfectly together. “You won’t hurt me I swear, I can take it-you said I could.” 

He groans in a tortured, painful way, hesitating for a moment and you think you might’ve just convinced him to come back and fuck you- but the hand that eventually touches you isn’t anywhere near your pussy. He’s wrapping the gauze from your eyes, pulling it from your head to press into your cheek. You blink as your eyes adjust to the yellow light of the Crests hull, the usually dull fluorescents are piercing. Still, your vision is not quite blurry enough to hide the gleam of the polished Beskar sitting back on Mandos’s head. You swallow your disappointment at losing the pure tone of his voice to that damn modulator. 

“I can't,” he says softly, “you’re bleeding again. It was too rough.” 

You can’t argue with him. You feel a bit weak and dizzy which is not just from your powerful orgasm. Sleeping in the cockpit didn’t grant you the most restful night; you’re exhausted, slipping away even as he speaks. 

“I’m sleepy...” You mumble, your speech very simple when you’re this exhausted. Mando makes a low noise, indiscernible in tone now that it is passing through the voice filter. You hate that thing for stealing away the depth of his voice even as it fades with your consciousness. 

“Sleep now… I’ll pilot the ship while you rest. Sleep…”

And so you do.

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

     It’s many hours later. The ship hurtles through hyperspace as you stand and examine your cheek in the tiny mirror of the fresher, basked in yellow light. The wound isn't very deep but it’s long, stretching from the high point of your cheekbone halfway down to your jaw. You grimace at the sight. That will definitely leave a scar...

    The Mandalorian is moving quickly behind you in the ship's hull, arranging the carbonite freezing slabs in a way that you can’t make sense of but don’t really care about. You’re too preoccupied with your reflection to consider it. Mando takes note of this. 

    “Warrior marks.” He tells you, walking across the length of the ship to lean against the doorway of the small fresher. “Wear them proudly, burc’ya.”

Wear them proudly. 

And so you do.

[luxekook]

make you scream » ksj

» pairing: sully!seokjin x reader » genre: monsters inc. au, crack, smut » summary: there’s a monster in your closet, but you want him in your bed. » word count: 2.1k » warnings: 18+, cursing, bad jokes, teasing, TMG references, reader ties jin up, generally clueless seokjin, smut [oral (m receiving), mentions of sex and impregnation]

» request: @j-sope​ said: jin + mystery drink!

as part of the bangtanhq drinks and drabbles challenge

Ever since you moved into your new apartment, you’ve had a slight monster problem. And you aren’t talking the energy drink. You’re talking a living, breathing monster who creeps out of your closet in the wee hours of the morning in an attempt to scare you shitless.

At least, that’s your current theory of his intentions - mainly compiled from dark web searches and reddit threads. You aren’t sure what exactly his motive is with you, but you do know one thing - you don't want to scare him away. Whatever monster lab created him had royally fucked up, because your monster is really fucking hot.

You aren’t even sure if you can actually call him a monster given that he looks like a fucking god amongst men.

He’s been visiting you for three weeks now, and you have stopped acting frightened since week two. Your silence seems to be both baffling and vexing to your nightly visitor. Neither of you have spoken to the other. Hell, you aren’t even sure if he can speak. He’s only yelled and jumped out at you so far in an attempt to draw your screams.

But, tonight you plan to change things up and finally get some answers.

As the clock grows closer to 3am, you pretend to sleep, nervously awaiting your monster.

Finally, you hear the telltale creak of your closet door and the soft footfalls that always follow. Your heart thumps in your chest.

Before he can scare you, you hop out of bed, catching him off guard. Using his shock against him, you push him into your desk chair and quickly grab the jump rope you had set aside for this very purpose.

“Yah!” Your monster struggles as you tie him up, “Stop that! Get your hands off me!”

Ah, so he can speak. You secure the knots that tie him to the chair and step back to assess your work. Flicking on your bedside lamp, you check out your monster in all his glory.

He’s glaring up at you with a vicious pout that would be menacing if he wasn’t so fucking adorable. His hair is a mix of blue and purple with two small horns twisting up amidst the strands. His body is long and lean with shoulders that give you way too many dirty thoughts.

Finally, your eyes meet his. His brown eyes linger on yours for a moment before wandering up and down your own body, reminding you of your current outfit of just a long shirt and underwear.

“Well?” You place your hands on your hips, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Your monster scoffs and pulls at his restraints, “Untie me, human!”

“Puh-lease,” You roll your eyes, “You’ve been barging into my house in the dead of night for weeks, and you think you can order me around? No, sir. Not today.”

“Well, I wouldn't have to keep coming back if you would just scream for me,” He mumbles, hands clenched into fists, “I have a quota to meet, you know!”

“That sounds like a you problem,” You shrug, edging closer to him. He tenses at your approach. “Why don’t you like humans touching you, my little monster?”

“Little?!” He exclaims, “How dare you! I am Kim Seokjin, top Scarer at Monsters, Incorporated!”

You reach out to cup his cheek, “Aw, did I hit a nerve, Mr. Kim ‘I’m so scary’ Seokjin?” He glowers, refusing to answer.

“Going to have to shred your door now,” He mutters, looking defeated, “And get sanitized.”

You snap back, “Sanitized? Well, that’s just rude. And if you even think about destroying my closet door, just know that I will be sending you the bill.”

“I don’t know who this Bill is, but don’t send him to me,” Seokjin scrunches his nose, looking thoroughly displeased.

You laugh, shoulders shaking at his dead serious remark.

Your monster’s eyes widen as he stares up at your laughing form.

“What?” You ask, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen and still chuckling slightly.

“Can you do that again?” Seokjin asks again, looking at you with a peculiar yet hopeful gleam in his eye.

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows, “Laugh?”

He nods, and you immediately get suspicious. “Why?”

“Because it apparently works the same way as screaming,” He shrugs, “I don’t make the rules.”

“So you do need my screams,” You smirk, “Interesting… Do these screams that you gather only come from fear?”

“Duh,” He rolls his eyes, “What other kind of screaming is there?”

You laugh again, ignoring how happy he looks that you did so. “There is one that comes to mind, monster boy.”

“Tell me!” He practically bounces in his seat, despite being tied up.

“Nah,” You shake your head, undoing his restraints, “I think that’s enough for one night. Out you go.”

“What?”

You pull him up from the seat and shove him towards your closet. He argues with you the whole way. Peering into your closet first, you pout when you don’t see anything out of the ordinary - that is, until Seokjin slips past you.

The back of your closet disappears before your eyes, and you see what looks like a warehouse with almost-human-but-not-quite individuals milling about.

Seokjin turns to leave, and you panic, your hand darts out to grab his wrist. You want to see him again.

“What is it, human?” Seokjin looks at you hesitantly.

“(Y/n). My name’s (y/n). And the other kind of screaming? It's not from fear; it’s from pleasure.”

His eyes practically pop out of his skull as your words sink in, “Pleasure—! But-but how?”

You push him out of your dimension.

The next evening, you don’t even feign sleep. This time, you wait up wearing nothing but a satin robe.

It seems that Seokjin also doesn’t follow his usual pattern as he storms into your room right on schedule. “(Y/n)! I demand you scream in pleasure for me!”

You choke on air, “That’s not how it works, Seokjin!”

“Well,” He crosses his arms, staring down at you from the foot of your bed, “Then tell me how it works.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” You sigh, shifting your legs so that your upper thigh peeks through the slit in your robe. Predictably, his eyes follow. “You’ll have to touch me, and I know you wouldn’t want to.”

You watch as he swallows hard, his eyes glued to your body, “I-I never said that.”

“Really?” You shift again. The tie of your robe loosens slightly. “I could have sworn you said ‘get your hands off me’ last night.”

He shakes his head emphatically, “No, that wasn’t me! That was, uh, Jim Seok-im!”

“Any relation?” You cock your head, entertaining his terrible effort to convince you.

“Nope, never met him,” Seokjin inches closer to you.

“Right,” You deadpan. “Well, don’t you all have sex over there in monster land?”

Seokjin gapes at you, “Yah! I am not making a child with you!”

“Good god, Jinnie,” You laugh, “Not all sex ends with pregnancy.”

“Ours does,” He scowls, looking thoroughly put out.

“So, let me get this straight,” You stand, walking the short distance over to him, “You monsters have monster sex with your monster cocks, and you don’t monster scream in monster pleasure?”

“Motion to ban you from saying the word ‘monster’ again,” He mumbles, still looking miffed.

“Motion denied, you monster.”

Seokjin pinches his nose in frustration, “Sex is purely for reproductive purposes. It’s a transaction. I don’t see how it can feel good.”

“What the monsterfucking fuck!” You just about blew a fuse. “What have you been doing? Just staring at your dick? Don’t you touch yourself? Have you never gone down on a girl monster? A boy monster? A gender-nonconforming monster?”

Seokjin slams a hand over your mouth, “Shut up, my human. Now, show me how to make you feel good so that I can collect your pleasure screams.”

Swatting his hand from your face, you shake your head, “I think I want to hear yours first.”

“I would like to see you try,” He laughs in an endearing squeaky way that makes you want to give him the suck of his life.

“Bet.” You sink to your knees, making quick work of his pants.

“Oh my sweet monster cock,” You breathe as you take in the sight before you. His cock is the biggest you’ve ever seen - thick and long with veins running down its smooth skin.

He’s hard already, and you shoot him a skeptical look. “What?” Seokjin shrugs, “It’s just my body acknowledging you as a potential mate. It’s happened before.”

Fury bubbles up inside you at the thought of him getting hard for anyone other than you. God, are you actually developing feelings for your monster? Pushing that thought aside, you vow to make him come so hard that all his (hypothetical) future orgasms will belong to the mere thought of you.

Without pause, you suck the head of his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip.

“M-my human, what are you doing?” Seokjin yelps, his hand digging into your hair. He’s a natural, you think, choosing to ignore his question.

Your hands run up and down his thighs before winding their way around to squeeze his ass. The gasp that results is delicious and urges you to move faster.

You take more of him into your mouth, sucking harder, your cheeks hollow. His breath hitches, “O-oh, (y/n), keep doing that. Feels so good. How does it feel so good?”

Oh, your poor little monster boy has no idea how good it will get…

You take him all the way, your nose nudging his firm pelvis. Seokjin moans, and when you swallow around him, he lets out a series of what you can only assume are expletives in the monster world.

One hand still gripping his ass, you bring your other one forward to tease his balls in your palm. He shouts your name, and you feel him twitch inside your mouth.

You release him with a pop. “Will you come for me, Seokjin?” Your voice is raspy from the deep-throating, “Will you come in my mouth for me?”

“Y-yes,” He pants, “I need to release. Your mouth is the best thing I’ve ever felt, my human.”

Laughing softly, you grab his monster cock once more, “Oh, my little monster, you are sure in for a good time.”

Without further explanation, you suck him harder than you’ve ever done to anyone before. You want and need to have Seokjin unravel before you, to come down your throat. And it isn’t long before his moans grow louder and louder until he comes with a yowl that honestly rivals what yours had been like when your monster had scared you at first.

“My human,” Seokjin finally mumbles, as you pull your mouth away from him, “What was that?”

“A blowjob,” You shrug, getting to your feet, “Sometimes referred to as ‘giving that sloppy toppy’ or ‘putting that dick through a carwash’ or ‘showing them that 360 degree spin cycle’.”

He looks baffled, “I understood none of that, but can I give you one of these ‘blowjobs’ now?”

You laugh, “My greedy little monster, come back tomorrow, and we’ll talk.”

He pouts adorably, and you can’t help yourself from pressing your lips to his. A blush overtakes his cheeks and the tips of his ears, “My human, why did you do that?”

“You’re so cute, Jinnie,” You shrug, “I wanted to kiss you to show that I like you.”

He blinks, “You-you—?”

You shove him once again towards your closet, “Tomorrow, my handsome monster. Get ready, there are so many things I still have to show you.”

His eyes widen, “There’s even more!?”

“Oh, yes,” You flash him a wicked grin as you kick him out of your room, “I’m going to fucking rock your monster world, baby.”

Four Months Later...

“Hey, my pretty human,” Your monster whispers, his breath ghosting over your ear. Goosebumps rise across your skin.

“Hey, handsome,” You answer, your eyes shooting open to meet his.

“Yah!” Your monster stumbles back, “Would you quit doing that?” His pout only draws your attention to his plush lips.

“No,” You grin, sitting up in your bed. “Are you ever going to quit creeping around my room at night?”

“Never,” He continues to pout. “Besides, you love it.”

And you really do.

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

[crowsent]

tales from the smp: the village that went mad ft. salt losing his goddamn mind

“im jack. and. im a farm person, and i like p o t a t o e s”

starting the stream well i see. ponk coming in with generic potato boy and i love him for it

=

QUACKITY

QUACKITY

“my name is helga, wife of badboyhalo” QUACKITY

=

karl: “bad, explain your character other than person that beats up their wife”

bad, immediately: “well, i do declare that my name is jimmy and im the mayor of this town”

and then bbh just fucking starts spinning around when hes asked what the name of this town is, theres a pause, and then he fucking hits us with “not a very good town, town” like BAD

this is why i love this man

this is why i fux with this man

he is unparalleled

=

but as much as i love bbh and would literally murder god for him, he still canNOT match the quiet theatricality of mr corpsehusband saying “im gonna turn around and itll all make sense” and then he has a fucking CAT TAIL

corpse “choke me like you hate me” husband is a fucking CATBOY ladies and gentlemen

hes a fucking catboy which further proves something which we already knew was true all along: furries exist in minecraft and are, in fact, accepted in society and treated no less differently than humans

this is why fundy and antfrost can just walk around without anyone telling them shit

this is why wilbur can fuck a salmon

corpse “catboi” husband paved the fucking road and drove down in a custom vintage jaguar so every other furry on the smp could fucking drive behind him in a second hand porsche

i salute you mr corpsehusband

truly amazing

=

miles memeington, connoisseur of steak and bob, “bob the builder” need no explanation

=

CORNELIUS COMING IN WITH THE BRIGHTASS NEON GREEN BODYSUIT EVERYBODY

GIVE IT UP FOR CORNELIUS

BEST RPER ON THE ENTIRE SMP

CORNELIUS GREENBODYSUIT EVERYONE

=

tubbo with the very cute ‘i am robin, i am an orphan child” being IMMEDIATELY ruined by karl sayin

“dont let technoblade hear about that”

i love this already

i love this already

feed me technoblade lore. the man never fucking uploads so i have to get content adjacent to him

i wanna hear about technoblade the orphan killer. i want that backstory lore

and also i wanna protect robin the orphan boy because hello???????????

that skin???????

let me adopt you mr orphan boy

=

i love quackity just very casually going “my husband and i had intercourse” at the fucking TOWN MEETING BY THE WELL

truly

quackity’s comedy is unmatched

“hes into lots of weird stuff. he taught me this one thing called dunderhead”

and IMMEDIATELY someone (cant tell who, i have auditory processin issues) fucking goes “i DO NOT know this woman” and tbh if i were in that fucking town hall listening to my fucking weirdass neighbour casually lay out all her family secrets, id fucking say that shit too. id fucking disown this bitch as my neighbour. id fucking pretend she doesnt exist

like

imagine your fucking next door neighbour siddling up to you in the fucking w*lmart while youre just minding your own goddamn business trying to buy a fucking banana and your next door neighbour helga is dressed in a fucking bikini going “my husband fucked me so hard i couldnt walk” and even though you are clearly not interested and trying desperately to get away from her and her wackass gossip, helga goes ahead and fucking LISTS OUT HER HUSBANDS KINKS IN THE FUCKING FRUIT AISLE AT FULL VOLUME

id die

id just fucking die

id uninstall life right then and there

id pack my fucking bags and take a fucking extended vacation to guatemala and never return. id fucking change my goddamn name just to ensure that people never associate me with this woman.

thats what quackity is doing and i am very thankful this man exists and has given us the treasure that is helga

=

cOuLd iT Be iN ThE nAMe oF SaTaN???????? 🤔

karl

bruh

bustin out the fucking OLD conspiracies huh

“or could it be in the name of content on karls stream”

and hes just casually breaking the 4th wall too huh

kinda stealing techno “ill read donations in the middle of rp bc i need a distraction” blade’s go-to method there huh

its fucking funny tho. hes narrating this all serious-like but then he just goes “content on my stream uwu” and unrepentantly shatters that suspension of disbelief (in a good way)

but it wouldnt even matter bc apparently, satan and karls content have no difference

=

does protection exist in the smp? im worried for helgas health

the woman visited 3 different fucking houses in one night

=

i love how the rp just stops dead in its tracks around the campfire

no one was using any of the names

corpse was out here calling everyone by their actual names and not the names of their characters

=

this might just be bc im a pathological liar whos seen and heard shit but

i love him but

i mean

bbh cant lie

the man cannot lie

his voice is off, pitch wrong, tone sus

he is deffo a murderer

being accused of something hes not would make a person defensive/angry and bbh is not either

the man is LYING

and his argument/defense was LITERALLY tubbos

man cant lie

send this murderer to hell

=

tubbo can lie, but imo hes not. his voice is the voice of a person whos telling the truth

man is legit the doctor

a doctor who chose to fucking lay on the LORE

father killed in the red-eyed village wars????? mother taken from a young age?

motherfucker brought the LORE

motherfucker brought the SOB STORY

motherfucker legit said “here is my canonical in-character reason for being a doctor fuck you”

and honestly

what is bads defense?

karl asked if the town should kill an orphan over a mayor and there is legit no right answer to that

there is no good rebuttal

so bad straight went “you make a great point. just execute me”

amazing

10/10

=

idk who said it but “orphans just suck up resources” whoever you are i love you

i was eating my chips in peace but then i almost choked

thank

=

I FUCKING KNEW TUBBO WASNT THE MURDERER

his voice did not match

=

my bets on fucking ponk

=

its fucking DREAM

DREAM MURDERER

my respect for this man

motherfucker

shouldve known

he was kinda quiet at first but then he suddenly started talking a lot

son of a BITCH

gg dream

=

round 1 wasnt very rp heavy but

i can excuse that

=

who in the FUCK is making choking donald duck noises

who

bbh got a new skin cool

WHO IS MAKING THE CHOKING DONALD DUCK NOISES

=

corpse, about dreams death: “they killed him in front of me”

the town: “who was it corpse?”

ladies and gentlemen corpse, without a moments hesitation: “im also blind”

=

so the murderer is deffo not corpse. deffo not tubbo. probably not lazarbeam probably not bbh

that leaves quackity, george, and ponk

=

MY PARTNER WAS KILLED

MY PARTNER WAS KILLED

i knew corpse was a catboi but i didnt know that mr dream “i went on a date and almost married a fox” wastaken partnered with a fucking catboy

what is this

dnf is out, dream corpse is in /j

bruh

MY PARTNER WAS KILLED

bro

the tragedy

=

CALM DOWN WENCH THE BOY DID NOTHIGN

CORPSE

CORPSE

STOP

CORPSE

standing up for tubbo like that

corpse

please

my heart cannot handle this

=

okay so its deffo not corpse and tubbo. most likely not quackity after that fucking disaster at the campfire. probably not lazarbeam or bbh. still think its george and ponk

=

CORPSE

he got executed trying to console tubbo who legit WENT IN THE PRISON TRYING TO LOOK FOR HIM

BRUH

WHAT THE FUCK

=

TUBBO

no

TUBBO

technically its robin but

TUBBO

he lost his father so quick what the FUCK

i will murder god for robin

the little shaking head he does after corpse got killed. going completely silent as he lost the one family he had left.

bruh

robin bby no

=

I KNEW HE WASNT THE MURDERER

tubbo

im sorry

=

I KNEW IT WAS PONK

was wrong about lazarbeam/george tho

=

bruh

what the fuck

tubbo/robin honey i am so so sorry

catboi corpse i am so so sorry

[descendantofthesparrow]

Multipart Commission work - Harry Hook x reader - A Prince Behind the Pirate - part 6 - a new deal

@musicarose​

=

An hour later Mal came back, her eyes glowing a soft green and her face scrunched in anger. “she wants the wand for Ben” she growled, Evie's jaw dropped.

“there's no way we're just gonna give Uma the wand, we can't just let her destroy auradon!!!” you bit your lip, watching as the four vks yelled about Umas deal.

“if Uma doesn’t get the wand then Ben is toast” Carlos huffed, Evie threw her hands up in frustration.

“Yeah, we’re just going to give Uma of all people the wand!”

“guys!” Mal interrupted, gesturing to Carlos “your 3D printer!”

“a phony wand” you muttered, smiling as Carlos's eyes brightened.

“in my sleep!” Evie butted in once more.

“but the second Uma tests it she’ll know its fake!”

“so we just get Ben out fast we need some kind of diversion” Jay perked up, looking to Mal.

“smoke bombs!” Mal grinned and pointed at him.

“that’s perfect I can get the chemicals I need from lady Tremaine's place that could work!” she walked over to Mal and touched her hair smiling “sick hair by the way evil stepmom seriously stepped up her game!”

Mal brighten and started to comb through her hair. “okay, you wanna know something? Dizzy did this!”

“little Dizzy shut up!”

“I know it's like a lot lighter”

You looked at the boys and they sighed, jay coughing and Carlos speaking up “hello!?!”

The girls stopped and pressed their lips together in an apologetic smile. “okay!” Mal clapped her hands together “boys, you head back to Auradon, (y/n) you go with them-“ you shook your head, Mal blinking wildly as you stood.

“no! im staying right here, I know as soon as I get back Jay and Carlos will leave me behind, im not leaving my best friend on the isle” Mal was shaken by your determined gaze, she nodded slowly and turned back to the boys.

“Alright so you two head back to Auradon and print the wand, and meet us at pirates bay no later than noon. And you guys?” she paused, looking to each of you. “losing? Not an option…cause we’re rotten”

“to the core” the others finished, smiling softly at each other.

Mal nodded and looked at you “stay here, its safer in here than walking around with us to the salon okay?” you sighed and flopped back on the couch.

“yeah yeah I get it, don’t move” you grumbled, picking at your nails.

“let's do this” Evie laughed, grabbing her jacket and walking out with Mal, the boys running out a moment later.

“I guess I’ll just sit here and wait” you muttered, leaning back and staring at the ceiling.

You should have brought a book or something.

=

“princess is going to trick us im sure of it” Uma muttered, pacing around the deck, Harry and Gil sitting on barrels a few feet away. “we need a new plan, something that involves Ben but differently”

“there was this really pretty girl that was with Evie and the others, she kinda looked like that girl on the tv who was planning cotillion!” Gil offered, snacking on a stolen half eating granola bar.

Uma stopped, then grinned “Gil….sometimes you speak up right at the perfect moments” she cackled, walking over and patting his shoulders.

Gil smiled and continued to eat, Uma beginning to plan with Harry.

=

They should know better than to leave you alone with nothing to do other than explore.

You sat on the rooftop near the hideout, glaring at the clouds above you. You couldn't see a single star, the brightest thing was Auradon city across the Strait of Ursula.

You sniffed, coughing slightly from the thick smog. You should have pushed Ben more to continue his vk reform plan.

There were so many kids here who didn’t do anything, you had a strong feeling that the only reason Uma wanted to take over the world was that she had been forgotten and abandoned by Auradon.

your mind drifted to the little girl from earlier, no child deserved to starve to death, your hands gripped onto your sleeves tightly, glancing down at your bag, still having some fresh food inside.

“well well well~” you squeaked in fright and hopped to your feet, spinning around to see Harry, the boy from earlier who had kidnapped Ben “what do we ‘ave here~ a lost princess~”

You sighed and slumped your shoulders, tilting your head at him “is there something you need with me?” he seemed surprised at your lack of fear but brushed it off.

“aye, the deals changed” you knew your face showed surprise when he giggled ‘cute’ you thought, eyes widening as that thought came to your mind ‘okay brain we do NOT go there right now’

“wait what do you mean?” you slightly panicked, backing up. You yelped, feeling the edge of the building, you lost your balance, starting to tip over the edge. you watched as Harry's eyes widened and he launched himself at you, grabbing your waist and jumping back.

“Holy sh*t lass!” he yelled, pushing you away from him towards the middle of the roof “be careful, we need yeh alive an’ well not dead and in pieces on the floor!!” you took a shaky breath and fell to the floor, holding your head in your hands and trying to get control of your heart.

“t-thank you” you muttered, hearing his voice stop, you looked up, seeing him look down at you surprised.

“uh….yer…wel..come?” he muttered confused, rubbing his arm. He shook his head, walking over to you and grabbing your jacket, forcing you to your feet. “come on, yer takin Bens place for ransom”

“But why?” you asked, Harry, sighed.

“We have reason ta believe that Mals gonna trick us, so Uma changed targets ta yeh, so come on” you dug your feet into the roof, easily stopping Harry.

He looked back, his face scrunching up in frustration “would yeh just-!” you pouted and shook your head. “tell me what you want!”

“I already did!” he yelled, throwing his hands up in the air “Uma jus’ thinks beasty boy would actually be able ta get the wand without lookin like he was stealing it fer himself!”

“he won't though” you muttered “only FG can get the wand, it has a magic barrier around it only she can disable”

“fu- are yeh serious!” Harry facepalmed “alright! New plan! yer gonna be our ransom for whatever we need” you sighed and let him drag you away that time, you’d rather Ben be safe in Auradon to lead it than you being in Auradon worried for ben.

Besides, you could handle yourself, thanks to those lessons from the dream boy.

=

Mals jaw dropped as Ben entered the hideout “Ben!?! What are you-wheres (y/n)?!”

“she took my place, Uma wanted her to be in exchange, something about me being more able to get the wand”

“but we already sent Jay and Carlos to print a fake one!”

“they know Mal, she already figured it out, that’s why she wanted (y/n), because with me in Auradon I could actually meet her demands easier”

Mal screamed in frustration. “fine!! I'll take my bike back and go tell the boys uuug why does shrimpy always have to make everything so difficult!”

=

You sat in the brig, slightly surprised by how clean it was.

“what, thought we were gonna throw you in the dirtiest cell we got?”

You looked to Uma and shrugged “I guess?”

Uma laughed and rolled her eyes “well I don't know what Malsy told ya, but we have a bit of honor among us pirates, besides, the better shape you're in, the more things well get in return”

She walked out of the brig, her heels sounded against the wood.

“sleep tight princess~”

--end of part 6 --

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[whimsimmortal]

Plot Bunny

Wow, I’m alive! And posting fanfiction on tumblr, as if I have any idea what I’m doing!! Please check it out on AO3, where I am actually capable of navigating the website: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27441853

Plink. Another small, innocuous sound scarcely registered past Danny’s homework-induced stupor. It could have been a stray raindrop or a kamikaze bug. He had more important things demanding his attention; namely, the book report due tomorrow. This was at least the fifth time he’d rewritten the same paragraph. Words had lost all meaning to him by this point, but he was so close to finishing.

Tip-tap. Clonk, the noise emitting from the bedroom window insisted. He glared suspiciously towards the disturbance, envisioning ethereal arrows or blob ghosts intent on breaking in. He hadn’t sensed anything ghostly nearby, but given his luck, the paranoia was usually warranted. Emitting a groan from the depths of his soul, he rose from his desk to inspect the noise. He spared a second to stretch and shake the pins and needles out of his fingers, trying to wake up. Just in case it was something serious, y'know. Tink. “Alright, jeez, I’m coming,” he muttered, pulling back his curtain.

There weren’t any ghosts, of course. That was somewhat of a relief, even if going down swinging  was preferable to succumbing to a failing high school education. The early sunset gleamed amber off the windows across the street, and the sky was clear, except for— chink— the pebbles bouncing off his window. A lone kid was standing on the sidewalk below, no older than eight or nine. He looked vaguely familiar. He was pulling his arm back to throw more stones and bawling his eyes out.

Danny yanked open the window, sliding up the screen to fully stick his head out. His core vibrated, unsettled. There wasn’t any obvious danger, and the kid didn’t look hurt. Where were his parents? Why was he here? “Hey! What’s wrong, buddy? Are you okay?”

“You, you, you,” the kid tried to start, but great hiccupping sobs interrupted him. He scrubbed his face with his fists, obviously trying to regain his composure. “You’ve gotta send the ghost hero out!”

Danny jerked back, unintentionally smacking the back of his skull on the underside of the window. Well, now he was awake. What? “Uh, a ghost? Here? No, there isn’t—I can’t—what are you talking about?”

The boy was right up against the side of the house now, sniffling loudly and staring straight up at Danny with wide, sad eyes. “Please?” He whined, winding his hands up in the fabric of his sweater nervously.

Well, now he was stuck. Some random kid was going to out his whole identity, but the urge to help was almost overwhelming. “I can’t—there can’t be any ghosts here, but give me a second and I can just come down?” He offered. “Do you want me to find your parents?”

“Noooo!” The kid wailed and stomped his foot, banging on the wall with his tiny fists. “Don’t lie to me! I’ve seen the superman ghost go in there! Let him out! I need him!!”

Oh, crap, someone was going to hear. This kid’s parents were going to freak out, or his own parents were going to notice, and what if they took that kind of claim seriously? Shoot. Literally. He chuckled nervously. “Hey, hey, shhh, okay! You win! I’ll, uh, summon him, or something! But you have to be quiet, or you’ll, y’know, scare him off.” The child nodded solemnly, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve and stifling his sobs.

Danny ducked back behind the curtain, gracelessly crumpling to sit with his back against the wall. He ran his hands through his hair. He’d been seen? When? He’d tried so hard to be careful, and use invisibility whenever he was close to the house. Maybe he’d gotten lazy. Maybe, sometimes, he let the promise of sleep take priority over precautions. Stupid.  He smacked the palm of his hand into his forehead, frustrated. How long had this kid known? Who else had he told? He couldn’t just scare him into silence, he was too little. That was just messed up, he’d give him nightmares or something.

He wasn’t going to figure anything out by sitting here moping. He triggered the transformation, the familiar prickling electric feeling swiftly replaced by the soothing cold. He turned to peek over the edge of the window, checking for anyone else around. It was still just the same kid, kicking at a pebble on the concrete while he waited.

He floated down slowly, not wanting to startle his impromptu visitor, who turned and saw him as he touched down. The little guy gasped, forgotten tears slipping away from unblinking eyes.

“Hi there,” Danny prompted gently. “Were you looking for me?”

The kid kept ogling, mesmerized, and a few seconds passed by before he could shake himself out of it. “Wow, you’re the real superhero guy,” he whispered reverently.

Oh. That was pretty cute, actually. He couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, that’s me. You can call me Phantom,” he offered.

“I’m Wyatt,” the kid mumbled, covering his damp cheeks with his hands shyly. He tipped his head down, still staring through his eyelashes.

A neighbor’s front door opened down the street, and Danny swiftly disappeared. Wyatt startled, blindly swinging his hands back and forth through the seemingly-empty space. “Wait! Come back!” He recoiled with a yelp when his blundering reach made contact with the specter.

“It's okay, I’m right here,” he reassured the kid. “But we can’t let people know I’m here, okay? They’ll—um. I’ll get in trouble.”

Wyatt squinted, reaching forward again. Danny offered his hand, and the little fingers gripped his glove tightly. He looked like he was offering the empty air a fist bump. “Right,” the kid agreed earnestly.

“Seriously,” Danny pressed. “You can’t tell anyone that I li-” he bit his tongue. Don’t say ‘live’. That’s so dumb. “Uh. Hang out here sometimes. Not even your friends, okay? Promise?”

Wyatt’s little dark eyebrows drew together, and despite his trembling chin and small stature, he looked profoundly serious. He shook the hand. “I promise.”

Well, that would have to do for now. “Thanks. Uh, what did you need me for?”

The kid’s eyes immediately started to well up again, but he squeezed Danny’s fingers and pressed his lips to put on a brave face. “C’mon, Phantom, you’ve gotta-” he sniffed. “You gotta save Fuzzy,” he warbled, turning and pulling. The ghost floated behind like a balloon on a string as the pair stepped down from the curb, heading across the street.

Oh, man, if this was about a dead pet, he wasn’t sure what he was going to do. That was closer to Jazz’s expertise. He swallowed his mounting dread. “Who’s Fuzzy?”

Wyatt’s face scrunched up. “He’s my bunny,” he explained, looking away. “I was just tryin’ to show ‘im to Audrey, and—and then,” he sobbed. “He went under the house! And he’s gonna get lost and stuck, and I’m-, never-, gonna see him ever again!” He let go, burying his face in his hands and howling.

Danny rested a hand lightly on Wyatt’s little shoulder, throat tight. He’d never had a pet like that, but he could understand the fear of losing loved ones a little too well, and empathy always felt more forceful when he was in ghost form. Probably something related to ectoplasm being shaped by residual emotional energy, blah blah ecto-science theory. “Don’t worry, we’ll find him.”

The unusual duo walked two more houses down the block and cut through a side yard to a modest backyard, strewn with outdoor toys and an overturned wire fence—likey an outdoor pen for Fuzzy. An even younger girl sat on the paved patio, chewing on the end of her braid. She leaped up as they drew close. “Wyatt! I told my dad about Fuzzbutt, and he’ll call the—um, animal people. But they’re not here yet. Did you find him?”

Wyatt glanced a little to Danny’s left with a guilty expression. Well, crap, so much for his secret. He bit his lip, trying to keep his cool. First things first. A cursory scan of the area didn’t show anyone else in the immediate vicinity, so he faded back into visibility. The little girl—‘Audrey’, he guessed—gave a muffled shriek. “Ghost man!”

“Hush,” Wyatt scolded, voice quavering. “He’s a secret.”

“Oh,” Audrey whispered back. “Hello, mister normal guy man. I think you’re cool.” She beamed up at him.

“Hello, small ordinary human,” Danny quipped, and Audrey giggled delightedly. Wyatt dropped to his hands and knees, crawling up to the house, where a gap between the foundation and dirt was evident. The other two peeked over his shoulder, but there wasn’t any bunny visible past the darkness.

“Fuzzy,” Wyatt choked out. “Hang in there, we’re gonna rescue you!”

Danny turned intangible, letting his molecules seep down through the dirt past the level of his nose. He drifted close to the base of the house, juicing up the glow from his eyes. “Just wait here, okay?” Two grim, round little faces nodded back, and with that minor assurance, he delved beneath the house.

The weight of the floor above loomed. It was claustrophobic, like being buried… well, half-alive. The musty, dank mildew smell was gross, even though he wasn’t breathing. He could taste it. “Here, bunny, bunny,” he muttered. Please don’t be hurt.

A tiny pair of eyes reflected green through the gloom. The little ball of fluff was backed into a corner, and it snorted like a tiny angry bull, stomping its feet. Danny hadn’t even known rabbits could make that sound. It probably didn’t like his creeping, unnatural aura, like most rational animals. “Shhh,” he cooed, reaching for the tiny, grubby ball of fluff and dimming his glow. “I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

Fuzzbutt wasn’t convinced. In a courageous move, it darted through Danny’s forehead, wedging itself under a crooked board and squealing. Danny reached easily through the plank and wrapped his hands around the unhappy creature, sharing his intangibility. It writhed and fussed, trying to bite through his gloves. “Stop that!” He clutched it close to his chest; if he dropped it here, the stubborn thing really would be stuck. He swooped back out into the backyard, startling the anxiously waiting kids.

Audrey shrieked and tipped over. Wyatt recovered first, leaping to his Velcro-sneakered feet expectantly. “Is he okay?”

Danny recovered a more solid form, holding up the wiggling rabbit. Wyatt gasped, fresh tears glittering on his eyelashes. He reached out for the beloved pet, unable to contain his joy at the reunion. “Fuzzy! You’re okay! I love you, Fuzzy!”

“Let’s go inside first, so he doesn’t get away again?” Danny suggested. The last thing anyone needed was an instant replay. Audrey darted to open the back door, and Wyatt led the way inside. He sat on the wooden floor with open arms, and as soon as the door was firmly shut again, Danny deposited the squirming animal into his lap. Fuzzy looked marginally more content to receive numerous sloppy kisses from his adoring owner. He was actually a pretty cute little guy, black and white like a panda.

Even footsteps padded around the corner. “Wyatt, baby? Did you find-” the woman’s question cut off abruptly as she noticed the glowing stranger in her living room.

Crud. At this rate, the whole block was going to find him out before the week was up. He edged back a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, I was just, um,” darn it, wrong persona. He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “Doing my heroic duty, ma’am,” he finished in a falsely deep voice.

Audrey giggled (he didn’t sound that bad!), and the woman smiled nervously. Wyatt hopped to his feet, still cradling his bunny. “Mama! Look, he saved Fuzzy! I’m gonna rename him Fuzzy Phantom,” he declared.

Mama Wyatt dutifully stroked the bunny’s dusty ears. “Fuzzy Phantom needs a bath,” she commented, before looking back up to meet Danny’s eyes. She held out her clean hand, and it took him a second to recognize the offered handshake. He started to reach back, thought twice about his messy glove, and hastily peeled it off to shake her hand. Her fingers were delicate, but they didn’t falter at the chill. “You look taller on the TV,” she joked lightly. “It’s nice to meet you. Phantom, right?”

He nodded. “Uh, it was nice to meet you, too, Ms.-?”

“Sylvie Rosales,” she supplemented. Audrey snuck around her to flounce deeper into the house, taking the adult’s distraction as an invitation, and Wyatt started to follow her, but hesitated. He snuck a hand out around Fuzzy to tug on Danny’s arm, so he leaned down accommodatingly.

Wyatt stood on his tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Can I come see you sometimes?”

Oh, heck, no. That would be truly asking for disaster. “No,” he quickly replied, but before Wyatt’s pout could evolve into a true objection, he added, “but if you really don’t tell anyone how to find me, I could drop by sometimes.” He looked towards Ms. Rosales. “If that’s okay?”

Wyatt looked over to his mom pleadingly, stars in his eyes. What have I gotten myself into, Danny wondered, but he couldn’t help feeling charmed. Ms. Rosales looked like she was thinking along the same lines, with her thin-lipped smile and folded arms. “As long as you don’t cause any trouble,” she hedged.

“Thank you!!” Wyatt hugged Danny spontaneously, smushing his face into his shoulder. Fuzzy grunted his objection.

Danny ruffled the kid’s mop of hair. “I should get going. Take care of Fuzzy,” he grinned, pulling away. “And stay safe,” he added in his false baritone with a mock salute.

“You, too,” he heard Ms. Rosales call after him as he phased through the wall. He looped above the street once cheerfully before disappearing to sneak back home. He’d left his window open; rose-tinted light and a handful of moths had spilled onto his bedroom floor. This time, he didn’t reappear or turn back until he’d stealthily drawn the window and curtains closed.

He still had an hour or so to plug into his homework. He hummed as he started back in on the paragraph he’d been stuck on. It didn’t seem as daunting now, even with the lost time and near reveal. He’d have to keep an eye on his nosy little neighbor, but in the end, maybe it was the moments like today that made the whole gig worth it.

[everyonesawhoregrace]

Nothing But A Memory

@awesomemikaus​: request where reader is Campbell's daughter, but she doesn't know anything, about the reason she came to town and so on, and Tommy plans to use her as a spy, approach her with that motive, but when she realizes that she doesn't know anything , falls in love with her, also that the reader is an angel. And then hell breaks loose when he finds out. very angsty pleaese

An: I'm gonna name my CHILD Sloan. Also , thank u for requesting this bc wow. I loved this. So much. So much that it's 4K words. X

"She can't get hurt, Arthur! Oi! Listen to me!" The brother was clearly upset by how nonchalant Arthur was to his statement. Only once the brothers met each other's eyes did Thomas feel comfortable enough to speak again. "She can't get hurt."

"She's our enemy, what the fuck do you mean she can't get hurt?!" Arthur's eyes widen, he can't wrap his head around Thomas's statement. Not even a bloody week ago, the two were plotting her death.

Thomas grabs a fistful of his brothers shirt and pulls him to his chest. "You lay a finger on her and I swear, Arthur..."

"She's Campbell's daughter." He reminds his brother, just in case he tumbled and took a fall for the worse.

"Please!" Tommy's never pleaded to anyone, let alone his brothers.

But with the weak way Thomas executes his words, Arthur feels a pang in his heart. Thomas falls back to his chair and lets out a shaky breath. He knows that his brothers fell spellbound to the lady.

"Fuckin' hell, Tom..." Arthur takes a step back, swallowing. You've fallen for her, haven't youse?"

3 Days Ago

Sloan Campbell arrived to Small Heath by the luck of the late night train. She was overjoyed to enter Birmingham, the busy, underdeveloped city. As a lover of history, she stayed concentrated in the vast city, occupying her time in libraries, city hall and the museum. Of course she was oblivious that her father, was on a special mission in the very city she was visiting. Alas, twas only Aunt Pol, John, Arthur and Thomas knew about Sloan's visit. It was the Shelby clan who had a plan to mercilessly sacrifice the lady in return for Campbell's injustices to them.

"He's causing chaos throughout the damn city nevermind our own business." Thomas banged his closed fist on the table, during their regular meetings.

The topic of inspector Campbell was brought up. Thomas got upset rather quickly before Polly Grey decided to make the boys feel reassured.

"You don't pay him no mind, we'll get him soon enough." Polly snaps, "Thomas sit down, I've got something to tell you lot."

She watched the colour return to their faces as she told them about Sloan Campbell, the only daughter that stems from the likes of inspector Campbell. She explains Campbell had a love so deep for his only child. He would do anything for Sloan. Anything.

It was Polly Grey who suggested the boys dangle the life of poor Sloan over Campbell, allowing him to flee the city in return for his daughter's life. It was going to be an exchange, simple, harmless. It would only scare the girl.

But it was Thomas who had allowed the darkness to consume him. Once Polly left, he had begun to stir up another plan.

"We need to punish him the way he's punished us." He said after a few drinks were in his belly.

Thomas put down his hat on the table and looked at the blades within the stitching of the flatcap. He was motivated by the idea of killing her.

Polly was discrete, only use her, do not actually harm her. Polly would no allow for the brutal killing of a lady. Especially an innocent one. And innocent she was. And yet, Thomas had different intentions.

Thomas continued. "Like the ones in the war who wanted us dead. We need to kill them before they kill us."

"Fuck yea..." Arthur concludes, after a line of coke. He rubs his nose and grabs a glass of whiskey from the table.

John speaks up. "We ought to blind her Tom,"

"No, worse. We kill her, and lay her body on the same ground Campbell walks so brazen on. This is our city, it's about time we show 'im that boys."

So, it was a plan, the brothers all agreed. Thomas was to be responsible for the capturing of the lady. Arthur and John were going to gut like her a pig and that Inspector Campbell will go running back to Belfast.

There he stood in city hall, awaiting her presence when someone tapped him on the shoulder. Who would've thought the person who tapped him was the lady herself.

Of course, she didn't know who he was. All she wanted was to know where the ticket booth was, after all, she had noticed the stranger had a ticket to the tour.

"Sorry to bother you, but could you point me where the ticket booth is?"

Thomas was frazzled, no, he was rather nervous. Not by the woman herself, nor the fact that the person he was going to shoot dead was standing before him, but rather, her remarkable beauty. She looked nothing like the photograph he was given, no, that was too old of a photo. It was blurry and did not do her justice. The woman before him was breathtakingly stunning, God like. She took his breath away, alongside everyone else within her presence.

He pointed to the ticket booth, she had smiled revealing such a pure soul.

She looked nothing like the awful Chief Inspector Campbell.

Following that dreadful day, Thomas followed Sloan around the city. She was shy, happy, she wore her emotions on her chest. She was unjustifiably beautiful. Petite, brown hair that framed her perfect face. She was the type of woman to use her hair to hide her face, and she smiled, and she laughed. She was goofy, original, she didn't want to please the fucking world. She simply wanted to live. Sloan would always drop a coin into the beggars hat, but more than that, she would stand beside him and ask him if he's alright. She was perfect, the more Thomas studied, the more his cheeks grew hot and his hands grew sweaty.

Yes, that she was, picture perfect.

Finally, Sloan had noticed him peeping one day while she read a book in the library, she raised her head as he ducked his. Pretending to be occupied in a book until she cleared her throat. Sloan stood before him.

"Can I help you?" She asked Thomas, who had looked up at her.

He wanted to run away, feeling his throat dry. He shut his book and got lost in her eyes. "Sorry?"

"You've been watching me from the second I got here. Never mind the fact that I'm nearly certain you're the same lad I had encountered a day ago 'round City Hall."

"I-" He began. Again, she's taken him by surprise. Thomas thinks fast. "I wanted to ask you if I can take you out. I find you beautiful and, yah, will you allow me to take you out for tea or somethin'?" He felt his heart race, his face heating up. He wanted to roll his eyes to the back of his head. Take you out for tea or somethin'? Really Thomas?

She chuckles, narrowing her gaze at him. But the truth was, Sloan was flattered. The man before her was a tall and handsome with great posture and teeth. Hopefully he's got a good paying job too.

No, to Sloan, the man before her was undeniable, most of the men in the world were pretty fucked up from the war. All they do is drink and fight. So, she cracked a smile and replied dubiously, "Alright then. I'm staying at the Midland Hotel, pick me up for eight tonight."

And with that, she spun around and walked her way back to her seat, where she opened up the book she was reading and started where she left off.

Thomas didn't tell the boys that he was going on a date with Sloan fucking Campbell. Instead, he told them that he was going to entertain the new barmaid Grace. They cheered him on, and off Thomas went.

Though it was a fake date, the closer the lad got to the Midland hotel, the more anxious and uneasy he got. Thomas was fumbling with his tie, shifting in his suit. He got feverishly irritated with the cuffs on his blazer and nearly tore them from his suit altogether.

Meanwhile, Sloan readied herself rather quickly. Wearing a navy blue dress and black kitten heels. She had allowed herself to calm down after finishing two glasses of champagne.

She stood before a mirror once finished and beamed at the finished product. "So, you find me beautiful?" Her serious, sexual face makes her giggle.

"Oh Sloan," She turns to her side and runs her hands along her dress. "You do look mighty fine though."

And she did, with her hair in light curls and a touch of makeup on. She put on her favourite perfume and listened to the radio, Sloan was a natural beauty, but she looked especially stunning tonight.

So stunning that when she walked down the stairs to the lobby, two men had offered their hands to assist her before Thomas was able to get to her. He made sure to claim her before any man would.

"Hi." She says, her hand falls into his. His hand is warm, and she flushes. The two are nervous.

Thomas stands tall, "Hi, you look..."

She's taken his breath away, all he does is shake his head. The silk material of the dress is plush around her curves. Thomas notices her décolletage, Sloan's stunning. Thomas quickly concluded and leans down to kiss her cheek.

"You look absolutely mesmerizing tonight, Sloan." He whispers in her ear.

She blushes, and as the two get on with their first date, she can't help but hold her tongue, wanting to tell Tommy the same thing.

He was kind hearted, chivalrous. He took her to a restaurant where people grew rather interested in Tommy and Sloan. 

They were numb to it, she discussed her passion of history he explained his passion of horses. They listened to each other in great detail. He explained that he had three brothers and a sister, to which she told him that she was an only child.

"Are your parents alive?" He asks, knowing the answer. But there was something so sweet about listening to her speak. Thomas grew fond of her voice, among many other things.

"Yes, and yours?" She tore apart a piece of bread and popped it in her mouth.

"No. Are you close to your parents then?"

She takes a sip of her wine. "I'm sorry to hear about your parents. Also. Yes and no. My mum and I are very close, but my father and I could have a better bond for sure." Sloan mentions Thomas's full plate. "How come you're not eating?"

He runs his sweaty palms over his pants, "I'm too nervous to eat." He replies honestly. His stomach twists and turns in knots. Somehow, the dinner that was supposed to be a stall before her death, ended up being so much more than that.

She blushes, looking down. "Do I make you nervous?"

Sloan looks at him with big eyes, and Thomas is nearly certain she's capable of murdering him. Right there. At that very moment. All he desires is her lips against his, and her body against his.

You take my breath away, Sloan.

After dinner, the two walked side by side down the street. Thomas has so many good qualities about him, it made Sloan very happy. Even though he was a hard shell to crack at first, he opened up and revealed things to her that he would have a hard time with admitting to anyone else.

Beaming, she up and into his eyes, "Thomas,"

"Yes." He raised an eyebrow, looking down at her.

"The people of the city practically bow down to you, I can't help but wonder what it is that you do."

His mouth twitched, "I own several businesses."

"Business that involve horses? You had told me you love them."

"Yes, something like that." Thomas doesn't want to give much away. After all, he is a no good criminal.

She chews on her inner cheek and Thomas smiles.

"Is there something else you'd like to ask me?" He stood in front of her, preventing the two from continuing their walk.

"No." She reveals, meeting his baby blue eyes. "I just want to tell you I had a great time with you tonight."

He ought to grab that face and kiss her all over. No, he thinks about the plan. How could he forget!? Death to the inspector’s daughter. But as she poured her heart into him, he can't help but put that idea in a cupboard in the deep depths of his mind, and shut the door. Death to the inspector’s daughter, no. Not her.

"As did I," He grins, and is startled when she rests her hand on his chest and leaves a soft kiss to his cheek. Thomas flushes, "Thank you."

She chuckles and mentions the hotel down the street. "Will you walk me to the hotel?"

Fuck. The end already?

Thomas nods and the two of them walk a little closer this time. He puts an arm around her and once they stood in the lobby together, Tommy Shelby willed himself to bent down and kiss her. Though it was a ballsy move on Shelby's part, Campbell deepens the kiss. She hooked her arm around his shoulder and went from a quick peck, to a passionate kiss.

She gives his hand a squeeze as she settles into her heels. "Thanks again for a tonight."

"No," He's drunk off of that kiss. Where did she learn to kiss like that? Holy hell. "Thank you." So much.

The two went their separate ways. Tommy feels as though he's walking on clouds. Sloan doesn't feel an ounce tired as she lays in bed, flattered by the kind words shared tonight.

Once he's home, he doesn't resort to the drugs as a sleep aid, but rather, Thomas falls asleep dreaming pleasantly of Sloan.

The two became inseparable. Thomas surprised Sloan with flowers the following day, he took her to Johnny's Yard, where they spent an evening under the stars. They held hands this time, and he smiled and laughed more. He wanted to kiss her lips again, and she wanted nothing but the same.

"You've brought me to the outskirts of the Small Heath, where there are portable homes and plenty of cow shit to keep a garden alive for years!" Sloan pinched her nose, giving Tommy a silly face as she sat beside him. "I wish you had told me, I wouldn't have worn heels."

The two of them sat under the stars. The soft autumn breeze was welcoming. The women from the homes had prepared a dinner for the young couple. Thomas was adamant on keeping Sloan out of the city. Campbell had harmed Polly just hours ago, and that scared Thomas. He feels conflicted though, with admitting to his family that he fancies the Inspectors daughter. Thomas doesn't quite know what to do.

"I reckon I was conceived here." He whispers, kissing the top of her head.

Sloan laughs, burying her face in his chest. "Well I'm honoured to be here, then. Despite the cow shit."

Thomas flushes. "I want to own this land someday."

"You should." She looks up and smiles at him.

"I've never told anyone that before," Tommy chuckles. He notices the long grass shift in the wind. "I've never really thought about the future like this, before."

"Why?"

"There was nothing really good for me to look forward to until now." He found himself looking at Sloan before admiring. "Until I met you."

Her heart melts, and she lunges at him, covering him in kisses.

Laying together afterward, Sloan had noticed the stars in the sky settle into bright white lights. She smiles helplessly, cuddling into his chest, the smell of him is delicious.

Thomas also gets lost in the night sky, with his lady by his side, what else can he do except take a deep breath and feel like life is complete. That night the two of them made love under the stars. It was slow and soft, yet feverish and passionate.

Sloan had giggled as the Thomas laid on his back struggling to breathe. "What is it?" He asked, oh, he could hear Sloan laugh forever.

"I've never made love outdoors before." She whispers.

"Nor have I." He replies honestly.

The two lay nested together until they fall asleep.

He had been stalling with the boys. Apparently things between "Grace the Barmaid" and Thomas had been progressing. The boys believed it, gullible they are. Polly stuck her nose up as Thomas told the family a lie. But regardless, they agreed, a day after tomorrow, they were to kill Sloan Campbell.

That evening as the two of them laid naked, listening to their soft breaths and the night sky, he had something very important to say. Something that's been occupying his mind since the first time the two of them went on a date.

"Sloan, why aren't your father and you close?"

Certainly she's just as fucked as her father is. It was John who said that as a way to excuse the fact that they were going to kill a woman.

"Well I don't agree with the things my father does, his values, his beliefs, they're...well, they're quite terrible." She reveals, feeling comfortable with talking to Tommy about this. "Aside from the fact that he used to hurt my mum."

He grits his teeth at the thought of young Sloan having to witness any form of abuse within the home.

Thomas cradled her head on his chest, as he tended to do after the two of them made sweet, sweet love. So, John was wrong, she isn't bad like her dad. She's just as loving and good as Thomas knew she was all along.

With that, he goes on to ask her an extremely important question. "Do you reckon you love me, Sloan?"

She stops running her hand over his chest and sits up to look at him. She's red from the sex, or perhaps it's the question he's asked her. "Tommy-"

Thomas sits up and combs through her hair. The loose curls that fall from her bun. "Honestly. Do you?"

"I..." She said, her eyes drift elsewhere. "I do have strong feelings for you but love?"

He swallows, making up his mind rather quickly. "I love you, Sloan. And I'm going to propose somethin' and I want you to listen to me."

Her eyes widen.

"Come away with me. Let's go somewhere only we know, somewhere quiet and freeing and-"

She puts a finger on his mouth. "What are you talking about? Running away?"

He grabs her wrist and Tommy leans in to run a hand over his jaw. He gets lost in her sincere eyes. "I don't much about the world, Sloan. Hell, I feel as though I barely know meself sometimes. But a life with you, I do want. I-I need it, to be honest." He set his lips firmly, his time his thumb runs over her bottom lip. "I'm certain about you."

"We can't run away together."

"Why not? I've got enough money to travel the world-" Please, please, please allow me this!

"I want to stay here." She whispered, watching the colour in Tommy's eyes shift from a soft blue to a the bright sea blue. Her fingers caress his cheek just as he was doing to her. "With you, n-not run."

His shoulders dropped. But he had hope, one last sliver of hope. Thomas noticed the crease in between her forehead and gently kissed it. "Meet me here tomorrow evening. Think about it, Sloan. I'll have my bags packed, and I hope you will too."

She nods, agreeing that she'll consider the idea of running away with Tommy.

Unfortunately, that night, when Tommy dropped her off at the hotel, he didn't receive a goodnight kiss.

Sloan didn't sleep. She paced around with nothing but an occupied mind. The truth was, she was beginning to fall deeply in love with Tommy. But to run away? It was something she didn't want.

It led to so many questions, like why did he want to run away? Why was he so adamant? Sloan felt her heart sink to her stomach as her heart rate lowered, she fell asleep with nothing but an aching heart.

The following morning, Tommy stood before his family. Today was the day Sloan Campbell was to be murdered. Polly still hadn't a clue of their plans so she was not invited to the final meeting. The entirety of that meeting, Tommy was quiet. He had his bags packed at home. He had sent a letter addressed to her to the Midland Hotel, a love letter if you will. One that contains solid information that will hopefully push Sloan into leaving with him. 

"Why is he being so quiet?" John had grumbled to Arthur who shrugged.

"I 'ave no fuckin' clue." He whispered back before the doors to the Garrison opened, revealing a shaken Polly. Her eyes are hungry for blood, her eyes set on Tommy.

"Been doin' your job have you?" She asks, hasty and panicked.

"What?"

"Spying on Campbell's child, Tommy, hows that been?!" She’s got her hands on her hips.

Fuck. He's been caught. Before he can confess, or lie, he cheek is met with Polly's hand. She slaps her nephew hard, like when she had caught him stealing from the baker down the street.

"Have you no disregard for this family?! You're fucking his daughter!"

Arthur stood from his seat, his eyes meet Thomas’s. "What the fuck is she talking about, Tom?"

“Oh yea, I’ve heard about the love letter you’ve written to her. The delivery man was practically shaking in his boots, Tom! Soon, Campbell himself will know about this!” 

“Listen to me-” Thomas begins, but Arthur lunges forward but John grabs his older brother. 

“Enough, Arthur! Sit down!” 

“I ought to kill the both of youse!” Arthur barks.

"She can't get hurt, Arthur! Oi! Listen to me!" The brother was clearly upset by how nonchalant Arthur was to his statement. Only once the brothers met each other's eyes did Thomas feel comfortable enough to speak again. "She can't get hurt."

"She's our enemy, what the fuck do you mean she can't get hurt?!" Arthur's eyes widen, he can't wrap his head around Thomas's statement. Not even a bloody week ago, the two were plotting her death.

Thomas grabs a fistful of his brothers shirt and pulls him to his chest. "You lay a finger on her and I swear, Arthur..."

"She's Campbell's daughter." He reminds his brother, just in case he tumbled and took a fall for the worse. John tries to break the two up, but there isn’t a soul that can tame Thomas when he’s passionately angry. 

But with the weak way Thomas executes his words, Arthur feels a pang in his heart. He knows that his brothers fell spellbound to the lady.

"Fuckin' hell, Tom..." Arthur takes a step back, swallowing. “You've fallen for her, haven't youse."

"She's happy." Thomas whispers, looking down as he chucked his cigarette on the cold street. "With me, I mean, she's happy."

“Fucking hell!” Arthur slams his hand against the table. “Out of all the girls in the land, you pick her!” Of course Arthur was thrilled for his brother, after all, he hadn’t been with a woman since before the war. But Sloan was too risky.

Polly speaks, "Tommy, you cannot love a woman like that, she, her father is an inspector for the government."

"But I am."

"You are what?" She's afraid to even ask.

"In love with her." He whispered.

“What do you want to do then?” Arthur finally asked after calming down. “Marry her and run off?” 

He felt his breath shake, “I honestly don’t know.” 

And yet, he found himself in Johnny's Yard at dawn. Thomas stilled as she stood on the grounds. He had wished, prayed and pleaded that she would accept his letter and pack her belongings. He saw her frame at the top of the hill, she stood beside the tree the two had laid in the past two evenings. Sloan’s heart was breaking as she stood by herself. No bags packed, all she had was the letter he had sent her at her side. She had met him here, this was the second time, and like the first, Sloan was quite anxious of what was to come.

Thomas didn’t allow the time or heart to say anything, so, instead, he cocked his gun back and swallowed. With her back to him, be began. "In the bleak midwinter."

She was shaking, and it pained Thomas to see her this way. She dropped the letter, the wind consumed it. Thomas looked up and watched as the love letter soared into the air.

"Thomas," She whispered. Sloan felt her heart in her throat, choking her. She clenched her fists. "Please why are you-"

"Shut up!" He snapped, it tore him apart. "Shut up."

Tears roll down Sloan's cheeks, all she can do is muster the strength to turn around. Her eyes met Thomas's, and when she saw the barrel of the gun, Sloan did feel like dying. Her heart was broken, the man she had fallen so rapidly in love with was going to kill her. This was a devastating love story. A tragedy she had read about in Julius book, Creid Erton.

"You didn't mean any of it then?" Sloan's voice is shaky as she speaks so timidly. "The love, the vow to protect me."

“I told you we should leave together. You should have listened.” His eyes glazed over. “You should have listened!” He shouts, and his fingers rim the trigger. 

There is a pop, and a bullet sores between the two. Tommy grabs Sloan and forces her to the ground, she gasps, looking up at Thomas who shields her, “Stay down.” He tells her. 

“Sloan!” Campbell’s voice comes from the bottom of the hill. “Shelby, you bastard, give me my daughter!” 

Sloan panics. “Let me talk to him” She tells Thomas, “He won’t hurt me if I tell him I’m safe-” 

“No!” 

“You pointed a gun at me, he thinks you’ll kill me.” 

Fuck, she’s right. “Be careful, please.” Thomas allows for her to stand, she slowly makes her way towards her father. 

“Dad, I’m alright.” She has her hands up. 

“What the bloody hell, Sloan?! What are you doing with Tommy? Do you know who this man is?!” Campbell lowers his weapon. 

“I love him, dad.” She starts.

“Love!?” He laughs, and raises his gun. “Yer just as stupid as yer mother.”

Thomas gasps and Sloan lets out a cry before a stray bullet punctures her shoulder, she falls back and sees the beautiful sky. Thomas is on his feet and shooting at Campbell who dies from a gunshot to the head. 

He races down the hill and grabs Sloan who is losing more blood every second. Thomas put pressure on it, and she screams in pain. He repeats that he loves her, and he’s sorry. Her world goes dark and the next time Sloan wakes up, she’s in a hospital in Belfast. 

And Tommy Shelby is nothing but a memory.

[throwingideasatthewall]

Clone Wars     Shadow      Warriors

            Seas 4

Oh    this-   just    screams      edgy        ...   Whelp

So is Jar      Jar an     adult,       now,?            (Asking because before his    characteri         zation was force of nature to child

Now he    seems to have his own    personality.

Which is fine   if you want to change some details for the sake of a    better story,      (Or to simply      explore         a new       angle,).    Aesthetic

     Just.            need to make sure I’m holding them to the right standard,

    Okay,

   That-         was    relatively     adult,

  Mm

   Um.

   I

 Aight        .           .       Well-

   Wait 

    Did they just call Jar Jar     away from      Cou-ncil-

    .         I mean they are clearly    trying       which          is   some thing       I do       give credit   for-

   Though                The             Tone              Is            Robot-                 Ic-

       (Though that might be int-         entional since it seems to be hinting that this lady is practicing some kind of         mind tricks on him

   (Aka, he’s doing it         under           tox, because we don’t do suspension of choice in     dra-         mat         ic       Me-     -dia,

 S’up

 What?

  I-

  -

   H-elp

Screw my own   accou-   -ntability     -      See that was the correct   -amount of   emotion-

.        Okay        -         Right-

  Sus-       (pic)

    No one noticed the obvious people right there?

  Like not even      Mr. sus         there?

[or are they just so    kind that it’s like   oh yeah we were just talking hate speech     but go right ahead?

Logic?

 There

  Yeah    some shit is definitely going on,

   For sake of argument*     sake, i’m just going to assume that his reaction to      toxic    behavior

*Account     ability-

 Any way

  I-

  I’m still      going to try,

  Despite  you clearly saying you want understood

   Because assumed authority        - and assuming you know better than a person about themselves

     Is totally ok-

     - In this         society

-[Cries        in       sad    “accountability,”     -of-      war,        ]

  Whelp,

  In-    flue-     n      -c      e

 Still an  adult-

  Okay-

 Imagine    it was just a normal necklace     and he pulled that shit-

[Ok for the sake of argument I’m going to assume the necklace is symbolism for toxic influence,

  Being around it         enabling]

  It-         -       His voice voice dropped like         - 6 octaves

     Also I swear if they try to   excuse him      for his actions-

     No

    Mind over matter     -Okay, so they’re not excusing him for his   -actions,

   Me-          an         -       OK so it’s not naturally evil it    just comes down to the users      so that dude was still totally responsible,

  Didn’t    change    - much

    -     Ha-Ha

  Actual     gas     -lighting”

    Also     persuade,            -             Okay,     good not excusing him       from his actions,      -      Thing

The   gaslighting goes deep      -      Also isn’t the Darkside supposed to be      negative over involvement?      -       Aight-         -       -           A-lone

  Oh yeah that’s a great idea let’s just let the  dude that just got gaslighted and completely fell forward go back into the person who did it,

 👍

     Genius     

    (This Jedi Council is fucking                  brilliant)

     Gas-       Light-         Ing

(Note;      Confronting the gas lighter is never the way       to do it       (Inter-             Gen-)          (Excluding accountability of the abuser     (Gen-break           Venting Pro-      Ced- u        re)

 [as you’re usually too angry     to let them get a word in edgewise        And remain;           in control)

  With inter- gen productivity,         They are possibly given       five warnings before         Being          Kick        ed-]

   For the sake of argu-       ment as well       as simplicity-

    We’re stick       -ing with        bas-         ic-

    If someone’s acting toxic        with you, you         reflect and you don’t have to         hang out with anyone         you don’t want to,

    Logic

   This dude      is very clearly making it obvious that    he’s willing to listen to this person,

 And, enabling

“Cl-”

See he’s gaslighting him again      because   he thinks he can get away with it,

With no   accoun-       tability-

 (Or the small bit      this society      believes      in     which is    jail,”

Wr-

Oh!

 Is he a     Gungan      Jedi?

  Also,

  You Don’t  

    SAY!

(The repeated Gaslighter      who has shown multiple times to be     toxic,       Was toxic,    (And prepared to use any means to      subvert the         will? 

Prize  for the  most   in  competent      Je      di

 Like,        Serious-         (Really had to put those two    accoun  t-      ability- cells      to good -    use-”

(For   matting       issue-)

  The writer just saving us the effort of him coming downstairs -all feckin- weird, and the   obvious    “should’ve seen that coming,     “

   ?             ha-ha

    What?

Oh yeah       no the creepy magical stuff wasn’t enough of a      fecking clue in-

  Appar-

   Whelp-

  He   snapped out of that quick-

  Like didn’t even need a      reverse- mind trick

   Good for      him-

   And - actual-     nar-    rative-        -

   Whelp,

   Wreck-ing      -house

       Okay, but how do you think this is going to look to the general public like two Jedi,( very good at persuasion -    mind tricks’ -just showed up, now they’re leader and said Jedi are wreck-ing one of their minster’s houses-  

     One who could’ve     feign-           ed lack of support for the        war

     Like if this is a     set up-  

 the chips-      are about to fall,

 Da-

Okay, seriously how obviously evil,    was this person?

Like we have a weird creepy room,     The robots apparently hanging from the    chandelier    (eck)         And      the knife

   Like if this person      ever-       went-   through a checkpoint

   Also,        Oh-

    That-

   (That     really        does not      look good,)

    Bo-ss

   Yeah,       she clearly has    medical experience,

 (Also yeah    that’s really going to make it    better-”

 Oh yeah the    senator was      seen trying to clean up the      evidence-

    Well the Jedi ran out     full sword’s- a blazing

    (Instead of you know the       Senator chasing after him,         While the peacekeeper stayed behind and tried to        tend to the person,]

   Great     -        -       Or    Not-

Well- tensions    just got raised,

  Of,

 Ai.     Ght, 

 Whelp,

(Okay, no way he’s totally not dead      but sure-)

 A-i-

  -

 Whe-

   That-       sucks-          -         Un-     Con-cious

    That-   doesn’t tell me anything else-

   Like;        Critical      condition?

   D-usk

   Li-terally       no one else?

    (Like don’t get me wrong I’ve been a pretty big Jar-jar fan ever since the change-)

   But really, the Senator, the person that spends the most time away from your - planet

   That’s the person,     they trust the most?

  Ai-

  Hm-

Oh yeah just put on the deadly leaders hat-

   The rese-mblance-

   Not really?

   I mean all humans technically    look the same-

  But-

 Pretty sure Jar jar is a lot      scrawn-         thin        -er

    Also if they’re not going to listen to him as him       they’re not going to listen to him      as he pretends to be their (dead) leader

Also, please don’t go with the      liar revealed plot,

    Yeah no, they have completely different kind of light.   tones,

     The face structure-

    Co-mpletely         different-

     -

   Nope

 -Dead

 Di-ssent

  Agree

   I-

   OK yeah I’m just gonna go over the fact, that as previously state,  I am not a huge fan of the liar revealed plot-

    -or lying

  (No because it’s- unrealistic-    - or there’s anything wrong with it

  -people do lie

     -maybe because of how overdone and             poorly done it’s been,

             -With the liar getting off Scott free without any                  weight

               But I really don’t like this               plot-

-And    the   skip    button    maybe   used     ad-     nausuem-   -

       [Well- shit       [for reference; I was using the skip button ad nausuem when I randomly stopped at the part      with    Greivous

        Things just got a whole lot worse]

         [Tumblr             Refresh]       -

   Any        Way,

   Aww,     That’s kind of nice the    friendship and reliance       the dude has on      Other-        Half            -         Yes        ‘Boss       Leoni’        when someone gets         tox         you leave-        - In a      - relation          ship-  

      Also yeah he’s definitely not       ‘Boss         Leoni’            -            He would’ve stayed and tried to take the    tox

 (Aka Jar-jar is less ena-     bling, les-        tox-     And     Doesn’t       Take        It        For          Much        More.            Than            He            Has               To,

        (He’s   les   -s

      Dyfun.  -c)

      Okay

       Good            Job     -     Also - yeah   how’d you manage that         -         That-

Didn’t get   car   ried up the chain of   com-     mand-        -            Then again Gri-   evous has shown to be a pretty   shit boss.     -      So I can’t blame these guys    for being like yeah compl-      ete stranger     I will totally      take a nap       -right    ,now-         -      You        kinda      have      sticks-        -    [The rain is   really    nice,]

[is this the first time we’ve seen them use active     particle effects      for the camera?

  Either way       it’s really        nice            -

Oh,

They’re    

electric     sticks,

That makes   sense

[- bet     ter      for      Figh     t-      In-       g-

Stop one     1v1     -ing-        It

    I

  W-h

   Again this is what happens when you 1v1 it    and    don’t assume accountability-     - -   

 [Don’t fight a metal cyborg with metal sticks when you’re not prepared to take it, full way,)

   I-

  [I feel like this is supposed to be some    big build up but they only shared like one scene where dude was completely silent,]

  Like,

   Sacr-ifice

    Die to take someone out with you

[Great

  Now

   Ouch]

   Are   they actually going to kill off      grievous because this isn’t look-ing    too    - good      -         Shit-

 Dude-      is still not dead-       -       How?        -          Whelp-           -          Oh,    hey      where the fuck    did you come      from,

 I-           Ack.      Br-u-      Tal

W-el

 -       Un         -         M           -              Plan-

“ damn it        he messed up the       script-,           -Pal   - patine

     Cap-

    Prison   break-

   Also yeah     that’s probably like        a vacation    for him-

 Given     how toxic these assholes     are           -            Ex- change           -           Damn             Ship      per-

      Also screw the 150 or how many other                 sena   -tors        -       Only     Amidala           -      matters          -          A-       ight-     -      Also, dude knows where everyone’s      lair,      Is,

 Like he pissed off Grievous with    -his

 Now he’s just chilling in this      dude’s    sipping earl gray       Or-      Some        Shit-

  Him

  Okay

 Getting a little    ahead of yourself     episode-       -       O k

    I

   Hearing this,  Skywalker doesn’t immediately run back      shout        -ing      nope-        - -       Because, to my knowledge the speaking at      room volume,

  Not    whispering        and the distance        isn’t enough to      -explain it             -            Ai          -   -           Wel-             -      There goes one        min-ion-             -             Droids are apparently    expensive enough to      chastise    Grievous          over-

  But sen-tient - beings are        a dime’     a ‘dozen-

    (Also    gaslighter’s.     don’t give a shit about        you     dear,       God,

  The Painful     dramatic-        irony-

 *tra-      gic-      Wh-      -Oa

 Ai     -     Ri-

  An

  Wh-     -elp,

   You know if it wasn’t for the exposure     earl-        ier   

I would assume they would think that the Jedi was just killing all their Im-por-        tant- elected officials

     Why?

     Wh-at

    He’s right.    -         But dude- that’s pretty      ham fisted-

   I mean-

  How many episodes          (and       possibly        seasons-)      do we have to            go-            - -     Anakin-       is a dick    to lanterns-       -        Also the random theme of the     bots-      coming out of nowhere-    continues-       -     St     -op-          -        Wh-       elp-

    .

    ?         (He          live?)

      I-

      ?

  Good           Play-

     Ah-

    To-

       Oh, yeah,       He’s alive we’re not going to bring that up in any      mention-able way?

      Ike

    Wh     e     l-      p

     Oh           -     That was   -nice-

   You deceived everyone and lied to all          our people,  you’ll make a great      leader,

   Or a great council/    committee leader considering that they do have an open position          ,            Best

I like that they had one bad ass fall and had it replace-d by Dooku being particularly bad-ass       -          In his      place-

In the trade off near the end really speaks to the     frag-ility of war

   I thought-

   It was pretty al-right    Though it really did seem like     - they were trying to build up to something but the structure unfortunately        just didn’t support it,

   Which is unfortunate because they do seem like      bits- that could’ve been nice

   Like Jar-jar being a constant       peacekeeper-

   The underwater        nations-

     Wars be-           tween          - Those               Dude’s

   And that    general guy      -        Who seems to be like he was supposed to be this     - really big deal

 [probably intended to do something      massive in the previous       arcs,]

    But, here,    all he did was that one scene,

    [Would’ve worked better if he was like this Re-       Public Gen-       Er          Al-

    To the      shark guy-

     And Akbar,

     Was just like the resident         enforcer-

     Or something to do with the       prince

    I think it would’ve really worked better with the concept of        ‘being taken’        under,               As well that possibly being a good contrast between     Jar Jar         binks          And        Char-        If Jar- jar got promoted-        With Char being eager at first but then realizing he just         can’t-          And Jar- Jar being reluctant at first but realizing he      can-

   [Note; assumed authority is bad,         Just- some people are better at using it for venting         than others)

   Nope boomers vs throw-         it-back, boom-

       I-

     And it really did feel like this episode       -should’ve been the split one 

   Nearing the end- it started to feel like the 1st-       part of a second ep-

    Which is fine

    Just cut-        of-

   Episode all around being al-right, with just several parts that didn’t make quite sense including the emphasis on the general for that one scene,

[snickletastic]

Interrupted {Jason Todd x Reader}

warnings~ cursing, mostly fluffy i think

request~  Jason reluctantly goes with his wife to her high school reunion, They see her old friends and have the unfortunate chance of running into her cheating ex and the mean girl he cheated on her with. They try to start shit with the reader who just takes it in stride before thanking them. But she's not living in the past anymore and introduces them to Jason much to the bully couple's jealousy.

a/n~ i ended up having a whole lot of fun with this one, but of course encountered some awkward moments during it. i think it goes pretty smoothly, but there are some bumpy parts that im sure youll notice. i hope you guys like it :)

___________________

“I just know that this is gonna be great,” you murmured while leaning over the counter to get near to the mirror so you could get a closer look at your lipstick application. 

Jason let out a quiet groan as he buttoned his shirt, “I’m going for the food. You know that, right?”

“Yeah baby, I know,” You shut the tube of lipstick and turned to your husband, who was rolling up the sleeves of his button up. “You should wear these shirts more often, you look adorable.”

“Adorable? I was hoping for something along the lines of sexy,” Jason mocked, “maybe dashing? Absolutely fetching?”

You ignored his complaining and fixed his tie for him. “I need you to be serious tonight...or at least a little serious,” you focused on pulling the tie through the hoop, “I really want this to go well.”

“Can you believe it’s been ten years since you graduated? Feelin’ old yet?” Jason teased while watching you fasten his tie.

“Don’t you start,” you lightheartedly threatened him, “You’re a year older, anyways.”

“I know you are but what am I?”

“You’re a moron,” you rolled your eyes.

“I know you ar-”

“Quit that, you man-child!”

“Fine,” Jason stepped back and admired you, “You’re looking sexy tonight.”

You blushed, “Than-”

“For an oldie,” Jason teased again, “Sorry. Okay. I promise. I’m done now.”

“Can we go now, or are there any other jokes you wanna make?”

Jason considered quips for a moment, looking thoughtful. “No, I’m pretty sure I’m done.” You sighed in relief and began walking out the door. “Don’t forget your walker, babe,” Jason called out while watching you leave.

_____________________

The banquet hall of the upscale Gotham hotel was filled with hundreds of familiar faces. You graduated from Gotham City High School, so your class had about 1,000 students or so due to how overpopulated the city is. Why? You could never figure it out. Why is Gotham so populated when there is a new psychopathic murderer every other week? A man dressed in a batsuit defending the city? A running theme of poison being dropped from blimps flying over? Who knows. Maybe it’s the charm.

Jason never had the chance to graduate, because, well, he died. You were worried that he’d be uncomfortable at the reunion, him being reminded of things he missed out on. But you were also hopeful that this would give him the chance to experience things he never got to. Now here you stood, watching your husband down 3 crab cakes all at once.  There was nothing you could do other than stand there and stare in disbelief; not at his immaturity, but at the size his throat must be to be able to eat so much at once. “Huh,” you wondered aloud.

Leaving your husband at the buffet, you wandered off to the center of socialization in the room hoping to find some old friends. You met with some old buddies, sharing information about your lives nowadays. The most interesting part of the reunion thus far was the people who seemed to be background characters in highschool; npc’s. It was amazing to see people you disregarded along the way without trying to; whether it was the girl who sat behind you in biology or the guy you’d make awkward eye contact with in the halls every now and then, you’d forgotten that they were living people, too. Now the boy who swallowed an eraser back in sophomore year was a doctor. The girl who got bullied for being a nerd was a renowned writer. Straying away towards the walls, watching people interact, you stood with a glass of soda in deep thoughts. 

Until you got interrupted.

“Y/n? Is that really you?” an obnoxiously high voice approached you. Turning, you saw the most dreadful glimpse of the night; your ex-boyfriend, Blake, and on his right arm, the girl he cheated on you with in senior year, Kennedy. You could already feel yourself turning nauseous from the sight.

“Wow! It is her!” Blake jeered.

“Hey,” you tried to say pleasantly, but it came out as more of a cry for help.

“I saw you standing over here all alone, staring at everyone having all this fun- I figured you needed some company!” Kennedy taunted in her grating voice.

“Actually, I-”

“No need to explain yourself, snookie bear,” Blake smirked. You could feel your back tense at the pet name he used to call you even though you told him how much you hated it. “We just wanted to tell you that Kennedy and I,” Blake squeezed his partners waist, “Are getting married next weekend in Bel-Air!” Kennedy squealed and held out her hand, displaying her big diamond ring.

“Um, congratulations guys. That’s great. I didn’t expect either of you to last this long. As a matter of fact, I thought I heard that the two of you broke up a few years ago,” You smiled at them, mockingly. There were rumours that he had cheated on her with her sister. 

“We moved past that,” Kennedy’s smile faded, “Now we are happy together. That’s all that matters.”

“Hey, three’s company,” You shrugged and took a sip of your soda, “I have to g-” You were interrupted by an arm slipping around your waist, and the sudden appearance of a body emerging next to you. Jason. You looked back to the distasteful couple in front of you, and there was nothing you wished for more in that moment than a camera. Jason towered over Blake, and even Kennedy, who was in heels. He casted a shadow over their boastful attitudes, too.

“Hi,” Jason waved at them.

“Who’s this?” Blake’s demeanor changed immediately.

“This is my husband, Jason. Jason, this is Blake and Kennedy,” you introduced everybody to each other. Jason must have remembered their names from your stories, because his face dropped the moment you said them.

Blake sheepishly held out his hand towards Jason, who seemed to contemplate accepting it or not. He did though, and he certainly asserted his dominance by clutching Blake’s hand so hard that you could hear something crack. He finally let go, and Blake softly whimpered and held his hand, clearly in pain. 

His fiance ignored him, though. “Why, I didn’t realize you were married,” Kennedy held out her right hand, putting her left one, with the ring, behind her back. Jason graciously accepted the handshake, “Nice to meet you. I like your eyes, the blue really stands out.” Kennedy blushed at the compliment and flashed a smile. “The shade of them doesn’t help you look any less dead inside, though,” Jason quipped and let go of her hand.

“My husband and I have to go now,” you broke the awkward silence, “It’s been so great seeing the two of you again. I hope you find happiness with your new wife- and her sister.”

You held onto Jason’s arm and walked away. “Do you wanna dance?” Jason asked, trying to ease your apprehension.

“Not really, I just wanna go home now,” You shrugged.

“Fair enough,” Jason said before stopping at the buffet table again, stuffing some hors d’oeuvres into his pants pockets. 

“You can’t possibly be serious,” you shook your head and smiled at his foolishness.

“One thing I learned on the streets is that you always take free food no matter what. I’m not passing up these fancy ass snacks.”

_________

Later on, you sat on the couch with Jason while watching television. He pulled shrimp out of his pocket and munched on it unwittingly. Earlier he offered you a fancy cheese from his left pocket, but you declined. 

Now you were just bummed out that the reunion ended up being a letdown, and Jason took notice. He just wasn’t sure how to go about making you feel better other than offering you pocket cheese. 

You laid and admired his features as he ate another shrimp, and then watched as his eyes flickered. You knew that face. He had an idea. He grabbed the remote and turned the T.V. to one of those strange music channels that played romantic piano. Then, he got up and held his hand out to you, “May I have this dance?” he bowed to you.

“Huh?”

“Just go with it,” he exhaled.

“Okay,” you took his hand and he pulled you up.

He awkwardly rested one hand on the small of your back and held the other one out dramatically, like a ballroom dancer. “Trust me, I’m a professional,” he beamed.

The two of you did a dreadful ballroom dance in the middle of the living room, in your pajamas. It was so much better than the reunion had been. All that was there were things of the past, but all that matters now is fooling around with the guy you love to the sound of uncopyrighted music on the T.V.

masterlist