#he has no idea how to react to this he just stays frozen like that for the entirety of the hug | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

urdreamydoodles · 2 months ago

Note

Hello!!! I just found your page and yes I already I love your work!!

If it’s no trouble, may I ask for X-men characters with a Pregnant s/o headcanons? Like how they would be when you tell them you’re pregnant, how they are when you’re pregnant, and how they’d be during labor! 😵‍💫😵‍💫

Could I also ask it be with: Logan, Scott, Gambit, Ororo, Colossus, and Kurt??

If not it’s totally okay! Have a great rest of your day 💖💖

X-Men x Pregnant!Reader

How they handle your pregnancy

Each X-Man reacts differently to your pregnancy, from initial surprise and joy to unwavering support during labor, reflecting their unique personalities and love for you.

Characters: Logan Howlett, Remy LeBeau, Scott Summers, Ororo Munroe, Kurt Wagner, Colossus (+ my personal addition : Erik Lehnsherr, Wade Wilson, Wanda Maximoff & Pietro Maximoff)

Thank you for saying that, hearing that my work is liked makes me really happy, thank you ♡ And it's not a trouble at all — love the prompt! — Love, Marie, your friendly marvel fangirl

Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

When you tell Logan you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is a mix of shock and silence. For a moment, he’s frozen in place, his gruff exterior cracking just enough to reveal how truly taken aback he is by the news. He’s been through so much, lost so many people, and had so many regrets in his life that the thought of bringing a child into this world overwhelms him. But after a long, quiet moment, his eyes soften, and he gently places a hand on your stomach, the roughness of his calloused palm contrasting with the tenderness in his gesture. His voice, usually gruff and low, is quiet when he says, "I’ll protect both of ya… no matter what."

During your pregnancy, Logan becomes fiercely protective. He’s always been the protective type, but now it’s ramped up to an entirely different level. He doesn’t let you do anything that might risk your health or the baby’s, even if it’s something small like lifting a grocery bag. He makes sure you’re comfortable, constantly checking in with you—though he tries to act like he’s not worried. You often catch him watching you, eyes filled with a mix of awe and uncertainty. He tries not to hover, but you can see how much he cares. The moment you’re uncomfortable, he’s there, ready to do anything to help. His biggest fear, though he never outright says it, is that something will happen to you or the baby, so he keeps an almost obsessive eye on both of your well-being.

When labor begins, Logan is a mess of emotions. He’s usually the calm in any storm, but seeing you in pain makes him feel helpless in a way he’s not used to. He holds your hand, trying to keep you calm, though his own heart races. "I’m here, darlin’. You’re strong. You got this," he murmurs, pressing kisses to your forehead, staying close, trying to mask his own panic. When the baby finally comes, and he hears that first cry, tears fill his eyes. He never thought he could experience something so beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Logan would quietly hold the baby, marveling at the tiny life you both created, knowing he’s going to protect this child with everything he has.

Remy LeBeau (Gambit)

Telling Remy you’re pregnant is like lighting a firework. He’s always been a charmer, quick with a grin and a flirtatious quip, but when the news sinks in, his eyes light up with uncontainable excitement. "Mon dieu… I gon’ be a papa?" he says in disbelief, his signature grin widening as he pulls you into his arms. His hands immediately find your stomach, even if there’s no sign of the baby yet, and he plants a loving kiss on your lips. Remy is the kind of man who loves with his whole heart, and now, the idea of a family with you makes him feel like the luckiest man alive.

Throughout the pregnancy, Remy is absolutely doting. He spoils you beyond belief, making sure you have everything you need. He constantly brings you little gifts—flowers, chocolates, or even things for the baby—and he can’t help but talk to your belly every chance he gets, whispering sweet nothings in French. "Cher bébé, you gon’ have de best life wit’ us," he coos. He’s also incredibly playful, making jokes to keep your spirits high during the more uncomfortable parts of the pregnancy. If you’re feeling tired or sick, he’s quick to comfort you, but he does it with his usual playful charm. "You look beautiful, ma chérie, even wit’ a lil’ bump," he teases, kissing your cheek. Remy’s energy makes the whole experience feel lighter, more fun, and less daunting.

During labor, Remy’s usual calm and collected demeanor falters. He’s still his charming self, but there’s a frantic edge to his words as he holds your hand. "You okay, chérie? I’m right here wit’ you," he reassures, though you can see the worry in his eyes. He’s not used to seeing you in pain, and it shakes him more than he thought it would. As the labor progresses, he stays by your side, whispering sweet encouragements in French and English, never letting go of your hand. When the baby finally arrives, he’s completely overwhelmed, tears of joy running down his face as he holds your child for the first time. "Our lil’ miracle," he says softly, his heart full to bursting with love for both you and the baby.

Scott Summers (Cyclops)

When you tell Scott you’re pregnant, he’s stunned, standing still for a long moment as he processes the news. Scott, being the logical and responsible leader he is, has always thought about the future and the possibility of a family, but hearing it from you makes it real in a way that both excites and terrifies him. "We’re… we’re going to be parents?" he asks, his voice soft with disbelief before his arms wrap around you tightly. You can see the joy in his face, mixed with the weight of responsibility that’s already setting in. He’s already planning everything in his mind—how he’ll protect you, the future he’ll build for the three of you, ensuring that you and the baby are always safe.

Throughout your pregnancy, Scott is incredibly attentive and thoughtful. He’s the type to read all the parenting books, meticulously prepare for every scenario, and ensure that you’re comfortable and healthy at all times. He schedules every doctor’s appointment, makes sure you’re eating well, and insists that you take things easy. He’s also incredibly emotional during this time, though he tries to hide it. You often catch him looking at you with a softness in his eyes, one hand resting protectively on your stomach. "I love you so much," he says out of the blue one night, his voice filled with quiet awe. Scott takes everything seriously, and your pregnancy is no exception—he’s already planning how to be the best father he can be.

When the day of labor arrives, Scott is calm and composed, but you can feel the tension rolling off him in waves. He’s a natural leader, but this is out of his control, and it scares him more than he’ll admit. He holds your hand the entire time, murmuring words of encouragement, but there’s a tightness in his voice that betrays his worry. "You’re doing great, we’re almost there," he says, though you can tell he’s just as nervous as you are. When the baby is born, Scott is overcome with emotion. He’s usually so controlled, but in this moment, tears stream down his face as he holds your newborn in his arms. "We did it," he whispers, looking between you and the baby with a sense of awe and love so profound it leaves him speechless.

Ororo Munroe (Storm)

When you tell Ororo you’re pregnant, her reaction is calm yet filled with quiet joy. She has always been a steady presence, and that doesn’t change even in a moment as life-altering as this. You watch as her eyes widen slightly, and she takes a deep breath, letting it out with a smile that’s filled with nothing but love. "A child," she says softly, as if testing the words out on her lips before she steps closer, pulling you into a tender embrace. She kisses your forehead, her fingers gently brushing your stomach. "We will raise them together with the strength of the earth, the wind, and the skies," she whispers, her voice filled with a quiet reverence for this new journey you’re about to embark on together.

During the pregnancy, Ororo is a pillar of strength and grace. She watches over you with care, making sure you feel supported and at peace throughout. Her connection to nature allows her to sense even the smallest changes in your well-being, and she’s quick to help ease any discomfort you feel. She spends hours talking to your growing belly, whispering stories of the world, of the sky, and the beauty of the elements. Her presence is soothing, and she brings you peace in moments where the discomforts of pregnancy are hardest to bear. At night, she holds you close, her hands resting protectively on your stomach, often saying a quiet prayer to the earth for your safety. "You and our child are my heart," she says softly one evening as you drift off to sleep, her love for you as powerful as the storms she commands.

When the time comes for labor, Ororo is a calming force by your side. Even as the pain begins, she stays with you, her hand in yours, reminding you to breathe, to focus on the world around you. "Feel the wind, my love, let it guide you," she murmurs, her voice steady as she helps you through each contraction. You find yourself drawing strength from her presence, her deep connection to the elements grounding you. When the baby finally arrives, she cradles the tiny life in her arms with such tenderness that it brings tears to your eyes. "Welcome to the world, little one," she whispers, her eyes filled with awe and love. Ororo knows this is a moment of great power, not just in the birth of your child, but in the creation of a family bound by love and strength.

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler)

When you tell Kurt you’re pregnant, his first reaction is pure, unfiltered joy. His golden eyes light up, and in an instant, he’s pulling you into a tight embrace, his tail curling around you protectively. "Mein Gott! You are serious, ja?" he asks, his excitement palpable. When you nod, he lets out a delighted laugh, teleporting you both into the air for a brief moment in his excitement before bringing you back down gently. He cups your face in his hands, pressing kisses all over your cheeks and lips, his happiness absolutely infectious. "I am going to be a papa?!" he repeats, as if he can’t quite believe it, but the pure joy on his face shows that he couldn’t be happier. He immediately begins to talk about your future together, about how he’ll be the best father, about how lucky the child will be to have you as their mother.

Throughout your pregnancy, Kurt is an absolute ball of energy and love. He’s always fussing over you, making sure you’re comfortable, making sure you’re happy, and doing everything he can to make you smile. He talks to your belly constantly, telling your baby stories of his own childhood, sharing his love for adventure and his deep faith. "You will be loved, little one. So very loved," he whispers often, his tail lightly wrapping around you as he presses his head to your stomach. Despite his own rough upbringing, Kurt is determined to make sure your child is raised with nothing but love and joy. He’s so excited for every little milestone, constantly asking how you’re feeling, and making sure that you never feel alone or overwhelmed. He even starts knitting baby clothes in his spare time, determined to create something personal for your child.

When labor begins, Kurt is nervous but tries his best to stay calm for your sake. He teleports in and out of the room, fetching things, bringing you water, doing anything he can to help. "You are so strong, meine liebe, you’ve got this," he says, though you can see the nervous energy in him as he paces slightly. When things get intense, he stays by your side, holding your hand tightly, his usual calm demeanor replaced with pure awe at what’s happening. The moment the baby is born, Kurt is overwhelmed with emotion. Tears fill his golden eyes as he looks at the tiny life you’ve created together. "Our little miracle," he whispers in awe, his tail brushing gently against the baby’s tiny hand as he cradles them carefully. His heart is full, knowing that this is the start of a new, beautiful chapter for your family.

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus)

When you tell Piotr you’re pregnant, his first reaction is one of quiet shock. His gentle nature has always been a core part of who he is, but the idea of becoming a father leaves him momentarily speechless. He stares at you for a moment, as if processing the magnitude of what you just said. Then, slowly, a smile breaks across his face, and his massive arms gently pull you into a warm, protective embrace. "We are going to have a child?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with wonder. His metal form, cold to the touch, somehow feels comforting as he holds you close, his hands resting gently on your stomach. "I… I will do everything to protect you and our child," he promises, his deep voice filled with determination and love.

Throughout your pregnancy, Piotr becomes an even more protective and attentive partner. He’s already used to being careful with his strength around you, but now he’s even more cautious, always making sure you’re comfortable and safe. He spends hours drawing and painting, creating art that reflects the love and joy he feels for you and the baby. His gentle nature shines through as he constantly checks in with you, making sure you’re well-rested, eating enough, and not doing anything that could put strain on you or the baby. "You should rest, moya lyubov’," he says softly, offering you a cup of tea or a warm blanket whenever you look the least bit uncomfortable. He talks about the future often, about how he wants to raise the child with the same love and care his family gave him, how he wants to teach them to be strong but gentle, like him.

When labor begins, Piotr is a bundle of nerves beneath his calm exterior. His metal form shifts, and you can see the tension in his usually composed demeanor. He stays by your side, holding your hand gently, though you can tell he’s trying not to show just how worried he is. "I am here, love, you are so strong," he says softly, his voice a low rumble as he reassures you throughout the process. As the labor progresses, he’s there every step of the way, doing whatever he can to help. When the baby is finally born, Piotr is overwhelmed with emotion. He carefully cradles the tiny life in his large, metal arms, his eyes shining with tears as he looks at you with pure love. "Our family," he whispers, his deep voice filled with awe and devotion. "You have given me everything."

Erik Lehnsherr (Magneto)

When you tell Erik you’re pregnant, his initial reaction is one of deep, contemplative silence. You watch as the weight of the news settles over him like a heavy cloak, and for a brief moment, there’s an unreadable look in his sharp eyes. He’s always been a man burdened by the past, his life filled with loss and pain. But then, his expression softens, and he reaches out to touch your face, his fingers trembling ever so slightly. "A child," he murmurs, almost as if he’s afraid to believe it. Slowly, a smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he pulls you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair. "We will give them the world," he promises, his voice low and filled with the intensity that only Erik can bring. Though you can tell the news has stirred up memories of his past, the joy he feels for this future with you is undeniable.

During the pregnancy, Erik becomes fiercely protective, bordering on overbearing at times. He’s always been a man who values control, and now that you’re carrying his child, that instinct is heightened tenfold. He monitors everything, making sure you’re safe, making sure you’re comfortable, and making sure nothing threatens you or the baby. His magnetic abilities become almost a subconscious part of how he protects you, moving objects out of your way before you even realize they’re there, adjusting the temperature of the room without a second thought. Despite his intensity, there’s a tenderness in the way he speaks to your belly, as though he’s already trying to form a connection with your unborn child. "You will be strong," he says one evening, his hand resting on your stomach. "I will make sure of it."

When labor begins, Erik is calm but incredibly focused. He’s been through many battles in his life, but this is something different—a battle of a more personal kind. He stays by your side, his hand gripping yours tightly, though you can see the tension in his jaw as he tries to remain composed. "You can do this, my love," he says, his voice steady despite the worry in his eyes. As the contractions grow stronger, he channels his abilities to make the environment as soothing as possible, dimming the lights, adjusting the metal fixtures in the room to make everything feel more comfortable for you. When the baby is finally born, Erik is silent for a long moment, staring at the tiny life you’ve both created. Then, without a word, he takes the child in his arms, his eyes filled with a rare vulnerability as he gazes down at them. "I never thought I would have this again," he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you."

Wade Wilson (Deadpool)

When you tell Wade you’re pregnant, his reaction is, unsurprisingly, over the top. He stares at you with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open comically for a moment before he suddenly breaks into a huge grin. "Are you serious?!" he shouts, throwing his arms in the air and spinning around in excitement. He grabs you and starts bouncing you up and down, all the while chattering on about how you’re going to have the coolest kid in the world. "Oh man, this is going to be awesome! Our little baby Wadelette, or Wadelino!" His excitement is infectious, and though his humor never stops, you can tell there’s genuine love and excitement behind his wild antics. He talks about everything from baby names to what kind of mini-costume the kid will wear, all while being completely and utterly himself.

During the pregnancy, Wade is a chaotic but devoted partner. He’s constantly hovering, making ridiculous jokes to keep your spirits up, and finding the weirdest ways to pamper you. "You’re eating for two now! Gotta keep that belly happy!" he’d say, handing you a tray of the strangest food combinations you’ve ever seen. Wade has a way of making even the most uncomfortable moments of pregnancy into something funny, but when the serious moments hit, he’s surprisingly thoughtful. He talks to your belly in exaggerated voices, telling the baby stories of his adventures and promising to be the best (and weirdest) dad ever. Though he can’t quite stop being himself, you know that beneath all the humor, Wade is completely committed to you and the baby.

When labor hits, Wade is... well, Wade. He’s running around like a madman, alternately panicking and cracking jokes to try and keep things light. "Okay, okay, I’ve got this! I’ve fought ninjas, I’ve blown up buildings, how hard can this be?!" he says, though the genuine concern in his eyes gives him away. As things progress, he becomes a little more serious, holding your hand and whispering words of encouragement between his nervous ramblings. When the baby is finally born, Wade is struck speechless for once in his life. He stares down at the tiny bundle in awe, his usual mask of humor slipping as he gently takes the baby in his arms. "Holy crap," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "We made a tiny person." He looks at you with wide eyes, his usual bravado replaced with pure, unfiltered love.

Wanda Maximoff (Scarlet Witch)

When you tell Wanda you’re pregnant, her initial reaction is one of quiet, overwhelmed emotion. You watch as her eyes fill with tears, her hands trembling as she reaches out to touch your face. "A baby?" she whispers, her voice filled with disbelief. For Wanda, this news is a dream she never thought possible, a hope she had long since buried beneath the weight of her complicated life. She pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as she tries to process the enormity of what this means for the both of you. Her powers flicker around her, responding to her heightened emotions, but she calms herself quickly, pressing her forehead to yours. "I never thought I would have this chance," she says softly. "But now… now we can have a family."

Throughout the pregnancy, Wanda is a bundle of emotions—both excitement and worry. She’s incredibly protective, her powers always at the ready to keep you and the baby safe, but there’s an underlying fear that something could go wrong. Despite her concerns, she embraces the experience fully, surrounding you with warmth and love. She spends hours researching everything about pregnancy, reading books, and using her magic to ensure you and the baby are healthy. She talks to your belly every night, using her magic to create little illusions of what she imagines your child might look like. "You will be so loved," she whispers to your stomach, her hands gently resting over the growing life inside you. Despite the fears that linger in the back of her mind, Wanda finds joy in the journey, grateful for the chance to experience this with you.

When labor begins, Wanda is nervous but focused. She holds your hand, her magic swirling around the room in gentle pulses, trying to ease your pain and keep you calm. "You’re so strong," she says, her voice soft but full of conviction. "I’m here with you." As the contractions intensify, Wanda uses her powers to help as much as she can without interfering too much, guiding you through the pain with a steady hand and reassuring words. When the baby is finally born, Wanda is overwhelmed with emotion. She cradles the newborn in her arms, tears streaming down her face as she gazes at the life you’ve created together. "Our child," she whispers, her voice filled with awe. "I can’t believe it… they’re perfect."

Pietro Maximoff (Quicksilver)

When you tell Pietro you’re pregnant, his reaction is fast—literally. He zooms around the room at breakneck speed, his excitement palpable as he tries to process the news. "Wait, wait, wait—seriously? I’m going to be a dad?!" he exclaims, coming to a sudden stop in front of you with wide eyes and a grin that stretches from ear to ear. He’s so thrilled that he can barely stand still, constantly moving from one side of the room to the other, muttering excitedly to himself about baby names, future races, and all the things he’ll teach your child. "They’re gonna be fast, I just know it!" he says, already imagining a little speedster following in his footsteps. His excitement is contagious, and though he can be overwhelming at times, you know that Pietro’s joy is genuine and heartfelt.

During the pregnancy, Pietro is both attentive and hilariously impatient. He’s constantly zipping around, checking on you, fetching things, and making sure you’re comfortable. "You need anything? Water? Snacks? Foot rub?" he asks at lightning speed, already halfway out the door before you can answer. His energy is boundless, and though it can be a bit much at times, you appreciate how much he cares. Pietro is always talking to your belly, encouraging the baby to hurry up and grow faster. "Come on, little one, we’re all waiting for you!" he says with a grin, pressing a kiss to your stomach. Despite his impatience, Pietro is incredibly sweet, and he does everything he can to make sure you feel loved and supported throughout the entire process.

When labor begins, Pietro is a whirlwind of nervous energy. He’s constantly pacing, moving from one side of the room to the other, his speed betraying his anxiety. "You’re doing great, babe, really great!" he says, though his voice is tinged with nervousness. He tries to stay calm for your sake, but you can tell he’s on edge, desperate for everything to go smoothly. When the baby is finally born, Pietro’s world comes to a complete standstill for the first time in his life. The moment they place the baby in his arms, everything around him slows, and for once, he’s not in a rush to go anywhere. He stares down at your newborn child, his usual cocky smirk replaced with a look of pure awe and disbelief. "Wow," he whispers, his voice soft and reverent. "I… we made this." His hands, usually moving a mile a minute, are gentle as he cradles the baby close, eyes wide with wonder as he examines every little detail of their face.

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amomentsescape · 11 months ago

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Hello I am craving angst. Hey can you do a headcanon for the slashers? [Maybe Slasher X reader] Like could you do headcanons. What if the Slashers found their SO has been killed? or Maybe headcanon for Slashers if they accidently killed their so?

Sorry if my grammar is bad.

Slashers Reacting to the Death of Reader

Slashers x Reader (Individual)

Warnings: Mentions of death & killing, some cuss words, ANGST

A/N: All aboard the angst train! I kind of combined your request so some of the Slashers are about Reader accidentally being killed by them and some are an "outside" murder.

Freddy Krueger

He specifically told you not to come into his Dream World tonight

It was too chaotic, too much going on

His victim was a lot faster than he had anticipated

So he did his best to catch up with them

But he just couldn't seem to get close enough

So finally, Freddy's anger took over and he caused the sky to rain knives onto the poor teen

Once things were silent, he walked over to his victim, only to see another body laying further back

Freddy's breath caught

He ran over and saw you

You weren't supposed to be here

He told you not to come

Your eyes were already glazed over when Freddy picked you up

His eyes were going hazy, and he was staggering to your shared bed

He laid you down, your blood immediately soaking through the sheets

And it was only then that Freddy screamed a terrible sound into the world

The whole town would soon be reduced to nothing

Michael Myers

God, he didn't mean to

He just couldn't stand it in that moment

You were upset with him, arguing about how he can't just disappear for days on end without so much as a word

But he was just pissed

None of his killings went as planned, he could barely feel a thing, and here you were yelling about him not being around

It was too much, and he just needed the sensory overload to stop

His mind went dark

It felt like just a moment until he gathered his senses

But when he was able to finally focus, your limp frame was in his arms

Your neck was severely bruised, and there were still fresh tears on your cheeks

He couldn't have done this... right?

He kneeled there with you in his arms

He didn't cry, didn't yell, didn't even move

He just stayed frozen in that position, feeling absolutely nothing

Whatever humanity he had left, it died with you

There was nothing holding him back now

Jason Voorhees

There had only been a couple circumstances when a victim escaped Jason

And even then, none dared to go anywhere near those woods again

Except for one

For some reason, the death of his friends was too much

He was seeking revenge

Jason was inside the cabin cleaning up his machete while you were out picking flowers

You were wanting to make him a flower crown

He immediately dropped everything when he heard a single gunshot ring out through the desolate area

He sprung up, walking out to find you

It didn't take long before he saw a man leaning over a body, apologizing profusely over and over again

When he realized who was lying on the ground, he immediately ripped the man's head off, not even wasting a second

He lifted you in his arms, frantic on what to do

With your last moments, you struggled to smile and grip onto his hand, giving him a silent reassurance

He watched you go limp in his arms

He laid there with you for an eternity, feeling utterly lost

By the evening, he had a gravesite set up for you, and he was already packed

He was going to head into town this time

He would make sure there would be no survivors

Thomas Hewitt

It was just a freak accident

Thomas had gotten in up in the middle of the night while you were sleeping, slipping away to the shed

However, you had no idea where he had went

Fearing the worst, you walked out into the night, looking around for him

But in your worried state, you forgot about one of the traps set up outside

You accidentally triggered it and was immediately impaled

Thomas heard the trap go off and quickly rushed over to it

The moment he saw you, his heart dropped

He ran over and held you, trying to get the trap off of you

But you pleaded with him to leave you be, knowing your fate already

He was frantic, begging and crying with you to let him help

But you knew it was too late

You reached out and touched his masked face, offering a warm smile before your head dropped

Thomas took care of your body, having his family help make a gravesite for you

He was never the same after your death, and he became the most brutal killer out of everyone

Bubba Sawyer

The newest victim was willing to do whatever it took to survive

In a frenzy, they didn't even register what was happening

They saw you and immediately stabbed you in the stomach, quickly sprinting away thereafter

You screamed for Bubba, your body unable to move from the pain

It didn't take long for him to come to you, the area being filled with his whimpers and gasps of fear

He tried to turn you over, but it only caused you to let out cries

He was looking around frantically, trying to figure out what to do

But you just asked him to lay with you, knowing that help would never make it in time

He did as you asked, you both crying together

The moment you went silent, the air was filled with his screams

He was inconsolable

The moment he found the victim hiding away, he did his absolute worst to them

He didn't care about food in that moment

He wanted to invoke as much pain as possible

Your body was carefully tucked away in bed, Bubba refusing to leave your side for days

Brahms Heelshire

You were hoping to surprise Brahms, sneaking out in the night to pick some berries for tomorrow's breakfast

He normally slept like a rock, giving you ample time to complete the task

However, this night, he found himself awake to an empty bed

When he discovered you about to walk out the door, he went into a rage

How could you abandon him like this? Didn't you love him anymore?

He grabbed at you viciously, not seeing anything else but red

You tried to plead with him, telling him that you weren't going to leave

But this all fell on deaf ears

He wasn't thinking, he just grabbed at you and slammed you into the ground, your head bouncing from the force

He only stopped his attack when he saw the empty look on your face, and suddenly everything began to sink in

He froze up and began to cry, collapsing on top of your body

He didn't mean to

He pleaded to you that he didn't want to hurt you

He ended up placing your body on the couch, tucking the doll into your arms

At least this way, there was no possible chance that you could try to leave him again

Norman Bates

He blacked out

He didn't mean to, but something inside of him snapped when he noticed Mother's things had been misplaced

When he finally came to, you were lying in your shared bed, a knife sticking straight up from your chest

Norman became hysterical, not understanding what had happened

"N-no, no, no...."

He cried into your shoulder, holding your body close to his

It didn't take long for his mind to become numb, his teary eyes staring dazedly off into space

He ended up pulling another chair next to Mother, sitting your body beside hers

Mother always loved you, and Norman was sure she'd appreciate the company

It's okay, he reassured himself

You're home with him and Mother

He has his family still

Nothing is wrong

How could it be? You're still here with him...

Billy Loomis

You didn't tell him where you'd be tonight

It was just supposed to be a small get together, nothing important

So why did it matter?

But little did you know, Ghostface would be making an appearance

Billy was quick to get through the small group, eventually making his way around the corner to the next room

However, as you turned to figure out what was going on, your body ran straight into him

Not wanting to have a victim slip from his grip, he stabbed the knife into them quickly, not wasting any time

However, the moment his gaze tilted up, he saw those familiar eyes

As your body dropped, he caught you, ripping off his mask

"(Y/N)?! What the hell are you doing here?! You're supposed to be at home-"

"Billy?" you croaked out

"It's me, baby. Oh my god..."

His voice broke and the tears began to slip down his face unwillingly

Your eyes began to flutter, and he started to shake you in his arms

"Don't you dare fucking do that. You stay with me, alright?"

But your eyes soon glazed over, and Billy found himself yelling at your lifeless body

"DON'T DO THIS TO ME! DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME!"

Without you, there would no longer be mercy

Stu Macher

It was supposed to be a fun night together

It wasn't unusual for you to join Stu on his sprees

He loved having you by his side, being there to help him do something he enjoys

But this group was different than the others

They fought back

And when there was only one person left, they somehow managed to grab a nearby kitchen knife and slam it straight into your chest

"YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!" Stu screamed

He took his own knife and slashed a gaping wound into they're neck, killing them quickly

He kneeled down beside you, taking your face in his hands

"Hey, hey! You're gonna be okay, alright?"

But you just shook your head

"Look at me. Look at me!"

You did your best to meet his eyes, trying to stay conscious

"I'm gonna get you out of here, and then we'll- (Y/N)?!"

Your eyes had closed, and your head drooped in his hands

Stu began to scream, begging and cursing for you to come back

Eric Draven

One of the first rules Eric gave to you was to never go looking for him at night

It didn't matter how late it was or how long it had been

You stayed home where it was safe, no matter what

But on this night, you broke his rule

Eric was supposed to be back hours ago, and yet you were alone in your bed, worried sick

You eventually gave in and went out into the night, searching for him

But unfortunately, someone else was watching you, quickly jumping out and stabbing you in the neck

They took your wallet and ran, leaving you to bleed out on the sidewalk

But it was only a matter of seconds before a familiar figure ran up to you, placing his cold hands against the wound in your neck

"Goddammit! What did I tell you?!" Eric cried

You tried to speak, but nothing came out but warm blood

"(Y/N), please don't go. Come on, you're strong. Stay with me"

You reached your bloody hand out, caressing Eric's cheek softly before your whole body went limp in his arms

His cries could be heard echoing throughout the night

Without you, he has nothing

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emacrow · 6 months ago

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So you know the movie Ponyo

What I'm really trying to ask is do you know the mother and the father are like a little thing where the mother looks like an epic Sea Goddess cuz she is and he looks like a sad sickly old man

I'm just imagine that Klarion and Danny

Like Danny looks like an epic beautiful star Death god powerful in the way he moves but it's subtle like he's slowly comforting you to death

And Klarion looks like a crazy witch boy with a cat who look like he's out right feral and about to throw a pipe bomb at you just because he can

I'm just imagining what happens is Young/Dark Justice is worried about Klarion he's been gone for a while and they're wondering what he's planning I imagine they're surprised when they see him with a Lazarus pit

It's a specially surprising when electric entity sticks their head out of the Lazarus pit and starts talking to Klarion as the JLD and YJL hide there waiting for Klarion into demand help our power they watch this being completely start flirting with Klarion

I imagine Klarion and Danny's conversation going like this

Danny: Hello there my amazing chaos what have you came to talk to me about this time

He puts his hands up to pick up Klarion and bring him closer to his face

Klarion: It's that stupid Doctor Fate it's like he doesn't understand too much balance can ruin the order of the world I might love chaos but that would cause a chaos I couldn't even control

Klarion sits down and Danny's hands rubbing his head on one of Danny's fingers as comfort

Danny: Oh my love I could always talk to him and get him to try slow it down a bit if that's what you need

Danny's face turns into one of concern as he says that slowly starting to move around in the bigger than normal Lazarus pit that Klarion found for him

Klarion: No starlight me and Teekl have that old fart handled how about you tell me about your day instead did you find any more stars how is the balance between life and death doing for you

Danny puts him back down as a twinkle goes in to his eyes as he lays down in Lazarus water slowly starting to swim around as he say

Danny: oh Klarion life and death has been amazing and there's a new Star nursery that I found out there it's just wonderful

After Danny says that he pauses for a moment and presents to go underneath the water he comes out looking smaller with white hair and still wearing the same clothing he was wearing when he was larger surprising Klarion by grabbing his hands

Danny: oh Klarion my dear I have an idea how about we let Dr.Fate have what he wants for once in his miserable life let him have order without the balance that he needs that should show him that he needs you should it not

Klarion takes a second to think through It after he does he grabs Danny's hands right back

Klarion: that's an amazing idea Danny I'll stay with you in the infinite realms let's see how Dr Fate work without chaos helping him keep the balance

After that Danny kisses Klarion on the cheek using the the Lazarus pits to take him and Klarion to somewhere called the infinite realms

I'm sorry this is my first time really writing out Klarion I don't know how to write out characters that well I hope it was good that is what I really like is YJ and JLD was just reacting to this conversation since like the plan was listen and find information

You bet damn right that Dr Fate would have trouble keeping the balance, and would probably have the justice league trying to find Klarion because he thinks he up to something but in reality Klarion is in the middle of deep space, playing around with the stars as Danny is molding and feeding the baby star nursery to build a new universe in the making.

Dani is probably with him doing looping loops playing with star dust while Dan beat up any asteroids that had bad bacteria and let some of the good meteorites in that has good bacteria, and frozen water inside of them.

By the the time Justice league figured it out, probably the Green lantern, Hal. He probably gobsmacked and godsmacked straight back where he came form accidentally by Danny's star fueled cape.

#i give answers #dc x dp crossover #dc x dp #dpxdc #danny phantom #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp prompt #danny is the ghost king #danny has a space core #klarion

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yuus-sentient-teddy · 4 months ago

Text

The dust has settled. The threat was finally defeated. Classmates searched for their friends, high-fived the nearest ally, or collapsed against one another out of relief and exhaustion. A certain Ramshackle Prefect was doing the first thing and managed to find some of their friends after a few seconds of wandering.

"Guys!" Yuu hurried the best they could over to them, but the strain in one of their legs reduced them to hobbling.

Hearing their voice, their friends perked up and turned around.

The relieved smiles fell away, replaced with shock and visible gasping, and Yuu's grin fell with them. Why did their friends react like that?

They stopped just a few feet away and tried to catch their breath. "Guys, what's wrong?"

"Yuu," Epel slowly said, "stay right where you are." As he was saying this, he looked as though he was ready to bolt.

Beside him, Ace and Deuce were frozen in place with their mouths agape. Yuu was feeling panic rising within them seeing their friends like this. "What. . . ?"

Wow, they were really having a hard time breathing. The fight definitely took everything out of them, but the thing was, they felt fine when they regained conscious.

They stooped down, putting their hands on their knees to make it easier to breathe.

That was then they noticed something off.

Yuu pressed the side of their stomach. The cloth felt damp. Hesitantly, they reached behind. Their fingers touched two things that were next to each other, one of them cold and the other extremely sharp. The latter object caused them to flinch and pull away, and they felt something inside them shift.

No.

No way.

The world tilted to the side.

"Yuu!"

Multiple pairs of hands grabbed ahold of them. "Hey! Don't close your eyes!" Ace cried out.

Slowly, they were lowered to sit on the floor while a pair of hands gripped their shoulders to keep them upright.

"I'll go find someone!" Deuce said before sprinting off. With his speed, you wouldn't think he was exhausted from the battle just moments ago.

Ace muttered to himself and stopped when Yuu murmured something too quiet for Epel to hear. Whatever it was, it made Ace's face morph into despair and worry. He snapped out of it when their head fell forward and they slumped even more. Quickly, he asked Epel if his phone was working. Just as Epel reached into his pocket, an idea hit him.

"No, wait. Your--"

"Unique Magic!" Epel finished, raising his wand. "Ace, hold Yuu still!"

In a flash of light, the Ramshackle Prefect was contained in a floating glass coffin. Not a second later, Epel caught himself while gasping. "Are you okay--?" Ace's eyes widened. "Oh shit, your magestone!"

It was almost entirely black. ". . . At least I had enough to save Yuu."

"Professor Crewel!" Deuce's shout, though hoarse, echoed around the massive hall.

Crewel and a teacher were directing students to where another set of teachers would be waiting to guide them to the exit. His coat was long gone and he looked worse for wear, but he still managed to stand straight. With what magic was left, he temporarily numbed aches and pains; a little awkwardly but earnest and firm, he calmed down those who were coming down from the adrenaline of the fight or were about to let their panic overtake them. He was about to do the same for Deuce until--

"Yuu's been impaled!"

It took a moment for Crewel to process just exactly what the card soldier had said. By the time Deuce slowed to a stop, Crewel was composed enough to tell the other teacher to take over. To Deuce, he said, "Bring me to them."

The glass coffin stood out like a candle in a cavern and glowed like one too. Ace and Epel were sitting in front of it and staring without saying anything. Crewel wondered why the coffin seemed larger than necessary, but quickly understood when he got closer.

The arm of a chandelier was sticking out of Yuu's lower back--the coffin was accommodating it.

Despite how much pain it surely was causing, Yuu was peacefully asleep. If Crewel was any other person, he would have imagined that they were actually dead and this was some morbid capture of their corpse. But he wasn't any other person--he was a teacher and he had students who needed medical attention.

The coffin was able to be moved, thankfully. The pups were quick to get to their feet and followed Crewel closely to the exit. Anyone they passed gaped at the Prefect in the coffin, and Crewel barked at them to stop standing and come along.

He could hear Yuu's friends whispering right behind him.

"They said 'I'm not ready to die.'" Ace couldn't keep the tremble out of his voice. "Do they think we're just gonna let that happen?"

"I don't think they'd think that. They were probably just scared," Deuce said.

"I know. It's just. . . It keeps escalating. First winter break, then the whole thing with S.T.Y.X., and then Malleus's Overblot. What if they actually do die?"

There was no reply.

Crewel decided that was his cue. "It's foolish to promise absolute safety. Obviously, what has happened just now and throughout this school year is far beyond any person's expectations. But by their own skills and having a constant companion--I'll even indulge in the idea of luck as well--Yuu has managed to survive it all. As for you three and your other friends, you're doing enough by watching their and each other's backs."

"There is no way to predict what will happen to Yuu. But for now, you managed to buy them time. I suggest you focus on that instead of something that may not actually happen. As I said, Yuu has managed to survive it all."

It was silent. Crewel assumed they were thinking over his words, and he was proved correct when Ace said, "You know what, yeah. For someone who comes from another world, they've been getting through everything weirdly well."

The next conversation was about Yuu's toughness.

Being in full view of a horrific injury--and it was on one of his pups, to make it all more bitter--listening to the Prefect's friends cheering each other up was comforting.

#yuu/mc (twisted wonderland)#ace trappola #deuce spade #epel felmier #divus crewel #twst angst #I semi-oneshot this #I hoped the ending is good #🧸🖊writing

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linos-luna · 11 months ago

Note

hello! i really enjoy your writing and i find your fan fiction beautiful i swear 😭😭 sooo, i wanted to ask if you can write a bangchan x yn angst but w a happy ending (with a daddy issues yn) if you’re comfortable!<3; so i had this idea: Chan argue with yn because she always ask to him to take a break from his work and he just let out all his anger on her and start to say bad things to her (which he didn’t really meant or thought) and yn start crying in front of him during the argue because he reminded to her, her father. Once Chan start to feel bad about what he said to her and immediately try to excuse himself trying to get closer to yn for hug her, but, she immediately pulls him away but chan try to get closer to her again for make her calm down.

Thank you! I’m glad you like my writing! 🥺

This will be interesting because I had an abusive Stepfather so this will definitely resonate with me. At least we know it’s genuine 😅

——————————————————————

Awful Things 🥀

Bang Chan x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of abuse, yelling, crying, ptsd?

——————————————————— 🥀

All he ever does is work. Your boyfriend is constantly stressed and barely gets any rest. You worry for him but know that he’s a workaholic, however it’s just not healthy.

So you try and remedy it. Cook for him and get him to relax. But it never lasts long. Often times he rarely spends any time with you. It all just bothered you and he seems to shrug it off whenever you mention it…

But you try not to dwell on it. You stay on the side lines and are usually shy to talk. Perhaps it’s just your personality, or your light fear of dominate male figures. Chan has never given you a reason to fear him but he still had that dominant aura. This issue stems from childhood and your boyfriend knows that.

~~~~

“Channie, please take the day off.” You pleaded.

Chan only glanced up from his laptop. He’s been on it for a while. He didn’t answer, only going back to typing.

“Hey!” You crossed your arms, annoyed that he was ignoring you; you hate that.

“What?”

“I keep telling you to take the day off!” You grunted. “You’ve been working nonstop for days!”

“Y/n, not now.” He sighed with annoyance.

“Chan—!”

“Y/n! Get out!”

“Excuse me?!” You were taken aback by his tone. He never yells at you like that.

“Out!” He yelled again while pointing towards the door.

You were frozen in place, not sure how to react, only looking down.

“Hey!” He yelled while snapping his fingers. “Are you stupid or something? I said get out!”

Your heart dropped when hearing that. Did he just insult you??

“Channie, I’m—”

“No because you’re so annoying!” He interrupted. “And you never know when to shut up! So needy! And for what?!”

This stung. You looked at him with glassy vision, trying to keep from crying as he stood up.

“Well you have my attention now! So what?! What do you want?!”

Your body shook as he came closer and your heart beat faster.

“I-I—”

“What?! You obviously want something! Spit it out dumb bitch!” His voice boomed as he practically backed you to the wall and slammed his hand against it, right next to your head.

This had you panicking, you started crying— no sobbing. You covered your face as if to block a strike.

It was then that Chan realized what he did. He watched in horror as tears streamed down your face and your body shook in fear. He quickly took his hand back and regretted everything he said, wishing he could take it all back.

“Babygirl, oh my god I’m sorry!” He pleaded. “I didn’t mean it! Not at all!”

The man tried coming closer to hug you, only making you scream and scoot away.

“Baby—”

“No! Get away!” You cried.

“Y/n—” Chan tried holding your arm, only for you to swat him away.

“Don’t hurt me!” You screamed. “Stop it!”

“Y/n please, I’m not—!”

“No!” You repeated. “You’re gonna hurt me like him! Don’t hurt me like daddy! Go away!!”

“I’m not going to hurt you!!”

His loud booming voice frightened you even more and you found yourself almost having a panic attack and you tried making yourself small.

Chan felt awful and tried holding you; wrapping his arms around you. You whimpered and tried pushing him away again but he held on tight. You struggled until eventually giving up and sobbing into his chest, finally accepting his embrace.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” Chan said in a more soothing voice. “I shouldn’t have said those awful things…”

“Forgive me, y/n…” he whispered while rocking you slightly. “I shouldn’t have called you those things… I’d never hurt you… especially never like him…”

He felt like crying himself. Chan always wants you to feel safe. He wants you to feel safe with him. He knows what you’ve been through and your childhood of abuse. It’s been a while since you’ve had an episode like this and this time he caused it! And for what? Because he was stressed with work? Because he doesn’t want to take a break? He’s been neglecting you for days. You don’t deserve this!

“I’ll take the next few days off…” Chan said before kissing your head. “And I’ll spend all the days with you, okay? Every moment, I’ll spend with you…”

“I-I don’t wanna be a—”

“You’re not a burden… you’re not a bother.” He sighed, still holding you tight. “You’re never a bother to me, got it?”

You didn’t look at him, only nodding while still against his chest, probably staining his shirt with tears and mascara.

“This is what we’re gonna do…” Chan continued while rubbing your back. “We’re gonna get a small dinner… then get boba… then come home and finish off with cuddles and maybe a movie?”

“O-okay…”

You pulled away for a moment, noticing how his eyes were glassy as if he were going to cry at any moment. So you put your arms on his shoulders and gave him a kiss. No matter what, you still love him. You remember that Chan takes care of you. He loves you and always will…

#kpop #kpop x reader #fanfic #kpop imagines #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x poc reader #skz chan #bang chan x poc reader #skz bang chan #stray kids bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan #stray kids angst #kpop angst #skz angst #bang chan angst

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axie-lot · 8 days ago

Text

Sparrow

Characters: Boothill

Warning: Male characters,Spoiler,mention of death,child death.

Very well, this fic will be split into two parts. Part 2 won’t take too long to post. Well, this fic was a request, but this part will serve as more of a "Prologue" for the idea behind the request.

Theme: angst

This work was originally written by me in Portuguese, and I translated it using Google Translator, so I apologize for any translation errors

Summary:Well, a life on the farm, a happy life, until the lands of his planet were invaded by those dogs, bringing hell with them.

[Masterlist]

Boothill remembers very well how he met [name]... Even though so much time has passed, even with his body entirely altered, he still remembers him. How could he forget? Oh, that boy who was as clever as a raven, But at the same time as gentle as a small sparrow. He remembers that meeting as if it were yesterday. It happened during his childhood, And one thing he knows for sure—that meeting Was an unusual one.

Well, young Boothill had just finished his breakfast with his siblings, and Nick had asked him to get the hay from the barn to feed the animals. That was part of his routine back then, so he thought everything would go as it always did. He went about his usual tasks, helped Nick clean up the kitchen after breakfast, and fed the dogs before heading to the barn. But as he was on his way to the barn, something unexpected happened. He heard a desperate scream coming from the road. Curious, he turned to look at the dirt road and noticed something unusual, Something very unusual... He saw a boy, about his own age, running. The boy looked desperate—and rightly so—because right behind him was a large group of geese chasing after him. Boothill was stunned by the sight, having never seen so many geese in one place before.

“What the hell,” was all the white-haired boy could think as he watched this bizarre scene unfold before his eyes.

He stood there, frozen, not knowing how to react. For a moment, he simply watched, but then he noticed something—a small detail. The geese were getting closer. Much closer.

Realizing this, the white-haired boy started running too, before the furious geese could reach him. He looked around for somewhere to take cover and spotted the barn. Without hesitation, he ran towards it, the only place that could offer safety.

He managed to reach the barn entrance, and only then did he glance back to assess the situation. To his surprise, the boy who had initially been chased by the geese had also made it to the barn. Boothill was shocked at how fast the boy had caught up with him, despite the considerable distance between them. But there was no time to dwell on that—the geese were closing in.

The two boys scrambled to shut the large barn doors just in time, before the terrifying geese could get in. They stared at each other for a moment, unable to process what had just happened. Finally, they both spoke at the same time: “Holy shit...”

After that chaotic situation, the two began to talk. And over time, Boothill started seeing the boy more frequently around the farm.

At first, [name] was hesitant to open up to Boothill, always staying on the defensive. But little by little, [name] began to let his guard down. Boothill got to know more about [name]’s personality and discovered that beneath that wary, bird-like demeanor was someone as gentle as a little sparrow.

[Name] would come by every day to visit Boothill, help with the farm chores, and then spend hours chatting and having fun once the work was done.

“Come on, Boothill! If we finish quickly, we can go swim in the river,” said the boy as he dashed past Boothill, who was carrying a bundle of hay.

“Sparrow, it’s just a chicken. She’s probably more scared of you than you are of her,” teased the gray-eyed boy, holding back laughter as he watched his friend being cornered by a small chicken.

[Name] always seemed to show up at the farm out of nowhere, and sometimes he arrived with bruises on his body. Boothill would always worry about his friend when this happened. That’s when he realized he knew almost nothing about [name]’s life.

He tried asking about [name]’s family and where he came from, but [name] always changed the subject. Over time, Boothill stopped asking.

As the two grew closer, they were almost inseparable. Boothill even introduced [name] to Graey, Nick, and his other siblings. He was so happy they liked [name].

Graey and Nick quickly grew fond of little [name] too. They could see through [name]’s lies about his family and noticed the pain he was trying to hide.

And so, the truth came to light: [name] was a street boy. That explained everything—why [name] always avoided talking about where he came from, how he could come and go as he pleased, and the bruises that always seemed to appear on his body.

In the end, they welcomed [name] to live with them. At first, [name] was reluctant, not wanting to be another burden for the men to take care of, but after much insistence, he finally agreed.

Well, if they were close before, now they were inseparable. Living in the same house, it was rare for them not to be together or at least within each other’s line of sight. One was always following the other

Whether it was to tend to the sheep, Check on the cows, Or even ride horses.

Speaking of horseback riding, it was Boothill who taught [name] how to ride. That day was hilarious because [name] was terrified of losing control of the horse and falling off. But by the end of the day, everything went well, thanks to Boothill, who stayed by his side to help with any problems that might arise.

Even though [name] now lived with them, he still held onto some habits from his time living on the streets. He remained a wary bird when strangers visited the farm, and every time that happened, Boothill had to calm him down.

The two of them often went out at night to hunt small game, staying out all night and only returning to the farm in the morning. These were some of the moments when they bonded the most and opened up to each other, as it was just the two of them, their weapons, and the forest throughout the night.

However, the most precious moments for Boothill were when he picked up a guitar and played for everyone, while [name] accompanied him, singing like a beautiful bird.

Oh, those sweet moments… Moments that now belong to the past.

And so it went on for a long time. But time passed, and those children began to grow into young adults.

Oh, Boothill remembers how much [name] had changed as he matured. That young boy with the soul of a skittish bird had grown into a handsome young man. He had let his hair grow long, always tying it in a low side ponytail adorned with a small braid that Boothill himself would often weave into his hair.

And his personality had changed a little. Once a wary and distrustful wild bird, [name] had become a gentle and kind sparrow, though his classic skittishness would occasionally resurface.

Some things had changed during this time. Now, he rarely saw his brothers, but he knew they were doing well. It was also during this period that the most emotional day of his life occurred— The day he proposed to [name]. It wasn’t the most elaborate proposal, but for him, it was deeply moving.

The proposal took place as they were heading home after a tiring day. The sun was already setting, casting its orange glow across the sky. Boothill had the idea for the two of them to stop for a moment to talk beneath a large tree on the farm. He wanted to surprise his little sparrow, even just a little.

He began to talk about their life together, from the time they were children to the present moment. He reminisced about how they met and how they had never left each other’s side. It was at the end of that heartfelt conversation that he made his proposal.

“My sparrow, you know better than anyone that I’m not very good with words. But I want you to know that all the moments we’ve shared together, the countless fun times we’ve had, have been incredibly special to me. You, my sparrow, are incredibly special to me. So now, I’ve decided to take a step forward in our relationship. And so, I ask you—will you marry me?”

He remembers [name]’s tear-filled eyes as he spoke. And as soon as he finished, [name] threw himself into Boothill’s arms, hugging him tightly and saying “I accept” over and over again.

A few weeks later, they got married. It was a simple wedding with just close family members present. It was the happiest moment of Boothill’s life.

He cried—one of the few times he ever did—as he watched [name] dressed in a simple suit. He was moved seeing Nick and Graey, also emotional, watching their adoptive son get married. It was such a beautiful moment.

After the wedding, they began their married life together in a small, simple house near Graey and Nick’s home.

Now both grown men, they lived together, starting their little farm.

Their life was perfect.

The two lived in complete harmony. They worked together, managing the household chores and farm tasks. [Name] even got a job to help with the farm expenses.

For a time, it was just the two of them on that small farm. They adapted well to that life, but both felt something was missing—something to make their family truly complete.

And so, she appeared… Their sweet and dear little girl.

On a silent night—a rare occurrence, as the sounds of rustling leaves or distant animals from the forest were usually ever-present—Boothill sat on the porch, staring into the vast darkness ahead. He had lost sleep and, not wanting to wake [name], who was sleeping soundly, stepped outside to see if the fresh air might bring his restlessness to an end. Lost in his thoughts, he suddenly heard the sound of loud, piercing cries echoing through the stillness of the night.

Following the cries, he discovered a small baby, wailing and inconsolable. Boothill didn’t know what to do at first, but eventually, he picked her up just as Graey had done for him many years ago and brought her home.

When he returned, he found [name] awake and slightly groggy, likely roused by the baby’s cries. Boothill remembers the look on [name]’s face when he showed him the baby—pure joy. The idea of becoming a parent made [name] so happy, he couldn’t stop talking about how excited he was to take on the role.

From that moment on, the two of them became parents. The void they had both felt was filled by that little girl.

Oh, how attached they became to her.

The next morning, they visited Graey and Nick to introduce them to the newest addition to their family. The two were overjoyed at the thought of becoming grandparents.

As days passed, the baby grew a little older. She began to take her first steps and babble her first words. Though, to her parents’ dismay, one of her first clear words turned out to be a small swear word—something she must have overheard from one of them, simply repeating the sound without knowing its meaning.

Boothill found immense joy in watching [name] hold the little girl and show her the animals on the farm.

Every evening, they had a routine. The two would tuck the little girl into bed, with [name] telling her a story while Boothill played a soft melody on his guitar in the background. Boothill even crafted a small guitar for her, something she could play when she grew older.

Oh, those sweet, precious moments…

But all good things must come to an end.

And it was on that fateful day that hell began.

Boothill wasn’t home when it started. He saw the enormous excavators appear on the horizon of the plains, paying no heed to the protests and despair of the local residents. Black ore began to gush from beneath the earth. Armed guards attacked the locals, forcing them from their homes, insulting their dignity, and disregarding their lives.

Though he managed to infiltrate one of the ships of those invaders, Boothill soon realized that his family needed him. He had to make sure they were safe—he had to protect them.

Cannon fire rained from the skies. When he finally stumbled back to the farm, he found it reduced to ashes. The elderly Graey and Nick, along with all the friends and siblings he grew up with, had already lost their lives. Their lifeless bodies lay scattered across what used to be the farm he called home.

Clinging to a sliver of hope, he rushed to their small house, praying he would find the figures he cherished so deeply alive. But to his horror, the house had been destroyed entirely. With tears streaming down his face, he began searching through the rubble.

What he found broke him completely: the lifeless body of the little girl he had raised as his daughter.

A cruel world, to take the life of a child—a child who had just started walking, a child who would never grow up.

Boothill held her small body close and cried like he never had before.

But then, a thought pierced through his grief: where was [name]? Where was his husband?

Desperate, he searched for [name], combing through the ruins of their home and the surrounding area. [Name] had been staying home that day to care for their daughter. Boothill should have found him there. Yet, no matter how thoroughly he searched, he never found [name]’s body.

What happened to [name] remains a mystery.

All Boothill could feel now was a deep longing for the past.

He missed the times when he could still see the people he loved.

He longed for the days when he still had his daughter and [name] by his side.

In a single day, he lost everything. And it was all the fault of the IPC’s dogs.

Boothill swore vengeance on those who had taken everything he loved from him.

Much time has passed since that fateful day. Over the years, everything changed. Boothill was no longer the same man. His body had been completely modified with mechanical parts, turning him into a cyborg.

Now, he had joined an organization—he was a Galaxy Ranger.

But that wasn’t the only thing that had changed. He had become a wanted man, with a bounty on his head.

That was the price he paid to pursue his ultimate goal: revenge.

Now, this was his life—a cyborg with nothing left to lose because everything he had loved had been turned to ashes.

He was now a cybernetic cowboy wandering among the stars, a member of the Galaxy Rangers who had vowed to punish the wretched by any means necessary. That was all he was.

His purpose was simple: to draw the attention of the IPC. He attacked their ships, slaughtered their lackeys, and spread chaos to lure them out. All to fulfill his ultimate goal—revenge.

Yet, no matter how much his life had changed, a lingering pain remained in his chest. A deep ache for his past. The guilt of failing to save his daughter, of not being able to protect Graey and Nick, and the unbearable sorrow of not knowing what had truly happened to his husband.

Speaking of [name], the question haunted him endlessly: what had happened to [name]’s body? Despite searching relentlessly, he had never found it, leaving him to agonize over its fate.

But after a long time, Boothill finally found the answer to that question.

One day, after destroying yet another IPC ship, the cyborg decided to take a break at a random bar on some distant corner of the galaxy. He wanted to drink and clear his head. Choosing an isolated corner to avoid drawing too much attention, he ordered his long-awaited drink and leaned back.

As he waited, he scanned the bar’s surroundings. It was a dingy, run-down place, but it had its charm. The room was filled with customers, most of whom seemed engrossed in the bar’s center. This gave Boothill some relief—he could enjoy his peace without interruption.

But then, something caught his eye.

On one of the bar’s walls, there was a board filled with wanted posters. He spotted a few familiar names, like the Stellaron Hunters. His gaze trailed across the posters, pausing momentarily on some of the members, until it stopped abruptly on one specific face.

A face that made his circuits freeze.

"WANTED: Stellaron Hunter [name]—Reward: 6.13 billion credits."

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

It was unmistakably [name] in the photo. Though their appearance had changed somewhat with time, Boothill recognized them instantly. He could never mistake the love of his life, no matter how much they had changed. What kind of husband would he be if he couldn’t recognize his beloved pardal?

And now, Boothill had a new purpose in his wretched life.

In addition to destroying the IPC, he would find his pardal.

He would bring the love of his life back to his side once more. to be continued.....

#boothill #hsr boothill #boothill honkai star rail #hsr #boothill x reader #Boothill x male reader #male reader #x male reader #honkai star rail x male reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x reader #hsr x male reader

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thedemises · 9 months ago

Text

. . . EH? W- WHAT?! featuring “avatar of greed” mammon!

contains! . . . obey me! shall we date?/obey me! one master to rule them all, mammon being all flustered and stammering, use of nicknames “human” and “mams”, sleepy mc, mc has ram horns (i know that rams are basically adult male sheep but im trying my best to keep this as gender neutral as possible so pls-), mammon being mammon, pretty much no major warnings! :D notes! . . . this is also a small writing that i scrambled to create at night just like the most recent ace imagine- March 14th, 2024 at 3:08 AM 💀

mammon, the great mammon, the avatar of greed—cannot take this any longer.

while sitting up comfortably in his beloved human’s bed, he finds himself trapped and unable to move with the human clinging on to his back like he’s the tree and they’re the.. koala (from what he remembers, when both of them were comparing the human realm’s animals to the devildom’s creatures).

but also—not to mention... he feels like the side of his cheek is starting to burn aflame by the stare that’s causing it.

now, with the courage he mustered up internally—mammon decides to confront them like he's accusing that they're at fault for something trivially bad. yeah.

“o- oi human... what’cha starin’ at me with that look for?? ”

the words simple slip so easily out of his mouth as the burning grows more prominent and quite warmer when the staring doesn’t stop, more likely directed at his eyes specifically; you can still see his lashes fluttering every time he blinks.

with his gaze now focused on you; your arms drapped over his shoulders in a careless manner but secure enough for him to not shrug you off intentionally (not that he would) and your legs crossed and locked around his waist, your head rested on his shoulder—or your arm—as you stare with a sleepy look in your drooping eyes, like you’re at the brink of giving up staying awake any longer but yet you remain at least half-lidded the entire time.

moving your position slightly, the question he asked has you speaking up a bit. “hmmph...”, a soft hum erupts from your throat, half of your face burrowed within his sweater as you made sure to keep your horns away—sppcifically the tips—to prevent injuring him by total accident, “I don’t know... just.. I like how pretty your eyes appear when you wear those shades. the black ones with an orange golden-like gradient in the lenses. ’ts like a sunset’s reflection on a blue sea, but your eyes are very pretty either way; with or without shades.”

...

... dammit human....

mammon does not have any idea on how to respond—momentarily frozen with his thumb paused the second before it can touch the screen of his D.D.D. that showed the homepage of Devilgram.

congrats mc, you broke him.

“mams?” your weary voice with a hint of amusement brings mammon’s blue-screen-of-death mind back to the present, following a brief chuckle to escape you. “seems like even the littlest of compliments can make you react like a reindeer caught in the headlights.”

that sentence makes the poor second born sputter and stumble over his words, a dark red-ish flush blooms over his cheeks from embarrassment and being a flustered mess; darkening his skin by the blood rushing to his face.

“we- well, of course you’d see the great mammon in that way! ... no, i am not blushing- it’s just a little hot in ’ere! yer just seein’ things.. and no i ain’t enjoying this at all, human! i’m just lettin’ ya do this because i allow ya to, ’kay?!” despite his denies and protests about ever feeling warm and fuzzy in this moment, you can still tell he’ll treasure this memory a lot in the future.

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yuurei20 · 6 months ago

Note

Hello! I wanted to ask, but do we have any visual descriptions of the blot monster that killed Ortho? Like even just if it was big or if it had claws anything like that lol

Also this is a bit of a darker question do feel free to not answer this part but is the it ever implied or said how exactly Ortho was killed? Like did the blot monster like.. bite or maybe squash him? (Ngl I'd normally ask it in a more graphic way but I don't wanna make you uncomfortable)

Anyways I hope you have a good night/day whenever you read this <3

Hello hello! ^^ Thank you for this question!

I do not believe we have any detailed description of exactly what it is that happened to human-Ortho and, interestingly, we do not really know what happened to Idia, either!

There is a loud sound of something striking against something else and Idia says, "Everything after that is a blank for me. By the time I woke up, Ortho was gone."

What was that sound we hear after the monster lunges for Ortho? Metal against metal? Someone or something hitting a wall, or floor? How did Idia fall unconscious, and what happened in between Ortho being attacked and Idia being knocked out?

"Everything after that is a blank" may be insinuating that something happened during that "everything after," but he either can't or does not want to remember what it was. Very curious!

And there may be more to this scene than meets the eye 👀

When Ortho reacts to the creature coming down the hall, he doesn't call it a phantom: he calls it a monster.

"Monster" is one of the various ways that the cast refer to Grim (re: Animal vs. Monster vs. Cat vs. Dire Beast vs. Tanuki (pt1) / Animal vs. Monster vs. Cat vs. Dire Beast vs. Tanuki (pt2) ).

STYX labels him a dire beast in Book 6, but at the same time we learn that Grim is under a powerful spell that STYX's supercomputer can't actually analyze!

Grim might not be a direbeast at all, and we have already heard of creatures that will blend in with direbeasts in order to hide: phantoms 👀

I first came across this theory via Vtuber Toro-san (shared with permission) who points out some interesting things we know about the creature:

1. It was subject ROS-3367A, which possibly means that the phantom originally came from the Queendom of Roses, and Grim is theorized to have been at least partially based on Dinah from Alice in Wonderland.

(In Book 6 we also hear about a SUS-332OB, theorized to be from Sunset Savanna.)

2. While the weaker phantoms frozen on the higher levels of Tartarus in Book 6 mostly growl, the stronger phantoms frozen deeper inside would sometimes speak, saying, "I'm hungry, feed me flesh," "Don't go, stay with me" and "I want to be friends, too."

This is not impossible to tie back to Grim, who recalls waking up "hungry and alone," saying "it was real cold."

He follows with, "What happened after that again? It's all so foggy..."

Grim is mysterious enough on his own, not knowing where NRC is located (which begs the question: how did he get there?) and having significant gaps in his memory, in addition to being so unfamiliar with basic information of what is (presumably?) his own world that other characters often express surprise. (re: Grim's Memory / Grim's Experiences)

3. The chimera in the prologue has long been theorized to be some form of overblotted Grim. Is that his true form as a potentially flesh-eating, unfrozen phantom under a curse and/or blessing that no one understands?

We do not know! :> To the original question: it is difficult to pinpoint how exactly it was that Ortho died, as we do not know exactly what it was that killed him. (If it was the chimera in the opening, though, we have an idea of what it is he may have looked like at the time!)

We know Ortho was killed by a monster who had just escaped from a place built expressly for the purpose of housing lonely, violent, and hungry creatures--but that is all!

Perhaps a mystery to be solved as the plot thickens 👀

#twstask #twisted wonderland

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ancha-aus · 7 months ago

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Double Trouble... switched?

A tiny little thing for a lovely artist who's comics and art brings me much joy and inspiration.

Inspired by the lovely: @somegrumpynerd

And specifically this post, and this comic :3

Have fun :D

Warning, Very unedited and just me having fun ;P

(also most work was actually finding the posts to make the links work now enjoy this fanfic of which I will admit it took a few hours but I will not tell you how many words as I got no idea. Because I wrote the whole thing on tumblr and got no word counter here. Enjoy :D)

.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Dream knew something was wrong the moment he woke up.

His magic... it was being prickled by something. Over and over and over. It felt a bit like the sting of negativity but different.

That can't be right.

Drema struggled to full awareness as his mind tried to think of the reason why he felt the way he did.

Normally he only felt these type of prinkles and pain when he was near a lot of negativity but it had to be a lot a lot. As in, Nightmare using his own aura to fight him a lot.

But as he used his own magic of empathy he only felt a soft contentment and easy happiness in the air.

Had... Had the fight with Nightmare have afteraffects after all?!

They last fight, the one of the day before, had left Dream drained and tired. Nightmare and him had been fighting and Dream had tried to use his aura to get Nightmare to stay still and listen to him. Dream hadn't expected Nightmare to use his own magic aura. More surprising had been the fact that Nightmare's aura didn't clash with his own but instead reached him. It had burned and as Dream had said, he felt drained afterwards.

Dream hadn't thought too much off it. Especially as Nightmare had seemed exhausted and confused by it as well and he had quickly retreated afterwards.

But maybe Dream had been wrong.

Why else would he still feel this discomfort when there was nothing but positivity around him?

Dream groans as he finally manages to sit up in the very soft bed with many many pillows. Weird, Dream didn't have this many pillows on his bed and neither does Blue. Maybe Ink painted some more for them? Thoguth Ink rarely joined in on their sleepovers and Dream can't remember seeing Ink the day before.

Worse is that he feels disbalanced. Nothing feels right at the moment and the discomfort is making him cranky. He should just find Blue. Blue always makes everything better and has great ideas on what to try.

Yes, his best friend will help.

Dream opens his sockets only to stare in shock.

This... is not his room.

It isn't any room he recognizes.

It is a large beautiful place with a large, very large, bed with way too many pillows and soft blankets. There is a large bookcase just filled with books. The curtains are dark and shut. Next to him is a tiny alarm clock which reads that it is still very early in the morning.

Something else about his vision is off but Dream can't quite place it. Something that should be obvious but he can't make sense of it. He turns to the side and reaches for the bed only to freeze.

That is corruption. On his hand. And arm.

Dream feels himself start to panic as his soul pulses fast. Oh no. Oh no. What happened?! Calm down. Calm down-

Then he sees one of those corruption tentacles nad Dream flinches away, only to completely loose his balance and fall over sideways with a quiet yelp.

He lays frozen but can't feel any curiosity or hear anyone react.

He is starting to have an idea where he is and he isn't sure how to feel about this.

He slowly crawls to the side of the bed, only to keep misjudging the distance and he thinks he lost his depth perception which isn't good news.

He manages to get out of bed and only slightly panics at the sight of his own legs covered in corruption. Are it his own legs even?!

Dream pushes himself upright only almost fall over and he has to grab one of the poles of the large four poster bed to catch himself. He looks over his shoulder and is confronted with the sight of four tentacles shifting and idling behind him, all seemingly coming from his own back.

Dream takes a few unsteady steps and softly curses the way this feels. How does Nightmare DEAL with his tentacles?! How does he deal with the extra weight of it on his spine?! Dream already feels uncomfortable.

Dream manages to get to one of the two doors and opens it. He lets out a sigh of relieve when sees the bathroom. He flicks on the ligth in the room and manages to get to the mirror.

There in the mirror stands Nightmare. Staring at him in absolute shock.

Dream... Is in Nightmare's body.

Which means.

He is not at home.

Dream is in Nightmare's home.

-------

Nightmare tries to walk wiht confidence but it still takes effort to not overbalance for his lacking extra limbs.

When he woke up feeling comfortable and energised he had immediantly panic. He normally only felt that after they managed to make an universe fall fully into negativity and shift the balance.

Feeling that at home meant his boys felt unhappy and miserable and he would not have that.

Imagion his surprise when he sat up only to be in a completely different room and after a glance outside to realise he was in the Omega Timeline.

The one place he never had managed to get somekind of access too.

Nightmare wanted out right now because it didn't take a genius to figure out what happened.

Dream's and his magic had interacted strangly and connected with each other. Both had felt drained. Now Nightmare was in Dream's body.

Meaning, Dream was most likely in Nightmare's body. Meaning Dream was in Nightmare's hideout with his boys.

Nightmare didn't have time to panic or to have a crisis. He needed to somehow get to his own body and make them switch back. His minions needed constant supervision and management. Nightmare only just got Dust to agree to set an alarm clock and Horror had been improving with overeating.

He needed to get to them.

Which meant.

Be the perfect Dream so no one would think something was wrong and enable him to sneak out and search for himself.

This is starting to get annoying.

Nightmare had gotten dressed in Dream's clothes and got ready to leave.

Only for Blue to have shown up.

Which is what brought Nightmare to were he was now. Trying and struggling to maintain a facade he hadn't had time to prepare.

"You sure you are okay Dream?" Blue keeps staring at him as if he expects Nightmare to just spill the beans.

Wait. Does Dream do that? Does Dream just tell Blue everything? Probably right? But what do they normally talk about?

Nightmare is honestly unsure what it is that is between his brother and Blue. Nightmare knows that Blue and Dream are always together and Dream seems rather protective about Blue.

Nightmare realises he is taking too long to answer and puffs up his chest and speaks, being thankful for the small amount of luck there is for him in this multiverse that the voice he speaks with still sounds like Dream "Of course I am alright! It is a wonderful day and I want to spend it heloing others!" Dream and his ever need to please people and be liked.

Blue continues to grin at him, one brow slightly raised "Wowie! you are in a good mood today! Happy to hear you seem alright after the fight from yesterday."

Nightmare nods "But of course! Now! Lets get to work." and he starts walking. Only slightly falling fore over as he tries to balance for soemthign that isn't there.

"Dream!" Blue is by his side and tries to help him upright. The worry around him is slightly surprising.

Nightmare holds up a hand as he tries, and succeeds to steady himself. Old memories return of how to walk without his tendrils. He got this. "I am fine. Just a slight misstep... shall we?" Wait, how does Dream speak anyone? All the interactions Nightmare can remember were from them in battle. Which Ngihtmare knows is not a good reference for when you speak casually with others. The last interactions that Nightmare had with Dream wihtout fighting were... were from back at the tree... when both had been 6 and before their magical growth.

...

Ngihtmare doubts Dream still acts as his six year old self, even if he sometimes seems just as naiev to the world.

Blue frowns at him "If you are sure. You sure you want to go out already?"

Nightmare nods "But of course!"

Blue gives him another grin "Well. If you are sure. Let's go!"

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

Dream doesn't know what to do or say.

What do you say to your enemies when you are suddenly in their boss's body, who happens to be your twin. like. How do you decide what to say?

Dream tries to remain quiet and just watch. That is probabyl what Ngihtmare does right? Just watch and glare and tell them to not bother him?

Their happiness is burning him. That he has realised.

Dream had wanted to tell them he is going to take a moment for himself but then second guessed himself. How much would Nightmare tell them? Would he tell them that their happiness burns him? Would he be honest? Would he even tell them? Or would he just stand up and leave? Were those four expecting him to give them orders? To tell them what to do? Or would a simple 'go do your work' do?

Drema had never realised that positivity burned his brother this badly.

Did... did that mean that being around Dream burned him as well? That going near him at all in battle was as if he was being burned?

Dream knows his aura can get... a lot. but... He never considered... He never thought...

Only extreme negativity hurt Dream and all positivity energised and powered him...

If low levels of positivity already hurt his brother... would only extreme levels of negativity energise him? Would only extreme levels feed him?

Was... was Nightmare attacking AUs not as much an attack on the multiverse but more of a way to feed himself? To keep himself alive?

Dream just... didn't know.

"Boss! boss! what do you think? Awesome right!"

Dream eneds a moment to realise Killer is talking to him. Dream looks over and freezes at the knife Killer is tapping between his phalanges with a concerning speed.

Dream sits there frozen before panic overtakes his soul "What do you think you are doing?! Stop that right now before you hurt yourself!" only to realise that he spoke form panic and worry. Oh no he totally messed up! Dream wasn't thinking and-

Killer pouts but lays the knife down. Horror snorts "Told you boss would be unimpressed and mad at you for practising that."

Killer mutters something about it being cool and Nightmare just being a worrywart.

Dream blinks. Excuse but Nightmare is a what now?

Cross looks at him "What is the schedule for today boss?"

Killer snorts and copies the sentence at a softer volume but in a sillier voice.

Dream can't imagine that would be allowed but before he can even think of a fitting reaction or answer one of Nightmare's tentacles moves over to Killer's skull and gives him a soft tap.

Dream feels mortified. What do you mean those tendrils just... do that?! Dream hadn't even thought or considered that! Wait... Was... Was the corruption still negativity and so technically Nightmare... Was it like a muscle memory and so instinct for his body to do that? That implies that Nightmare has done that a lot.

Killer pouts more and crosses his arms befroe he mumbles "Fine fine. I get it. I get it. Sorry Crossy."

Crossy beams and the happiness stings Dream as Cross answers "Apology accepted!" then Cross looks at him with bright sockets "But what will we do today boss?"

Dream glances around the room as he tries to think of something that would fit. He has no idea what Nightmare does when he isn't out fighting him. Dream remembers the books in Ngihtmare's bedroom but Dream doesn't want to lock himself in there. He will go insane and just not know what to do. He needs an excuse to search around the castle. Something that will fit with their vision of Nightmare.

"I... need to... research a few things for our next... raid." Dream tries to desperately remember what Nightmare sounded like and which words he used. Dream thinks his lucky stars that Nightmare's body still sounds like Nightmare.

Cross nods "okay! Need our help with anything?"

Dream slowly shakes his skull as he tries to follow their emotions to see if he is managing to sell this. "No. I should have what I need." Okay, good so far, now how to say he will get them if he needs help. euh... "If I have need... of you. I know where to find you." That should work... right?

Killer nods as he is already out of the room and gone with a shout "Going to the cats!"

What does he mean CATS?!

Cross nods "Okay! in your office?"

office? office! An office will no doubt have information that will hopefully help Dream. Dream nods as anwer and Cross seems to accept it before he goes around grabbing the plates.

Horror asks him if he wants lunch together or brought up and Dream can feel the stress rise. damnit why are these four so focussed on Nightmare? They turn to him for everything! It makes Dream miss Blue. Blue knows what to do when and helps him more than anything.

Dream ends up saying together. Seeing as they straight up called and pulled him over for breakfast that is probably the go to. Horror seems pleased by this and nods as he starts cleaning the food in a careful manner.

Dust has just been staring at him with a frown on his face.

Dream stares back and feels the need to look away but Nightmare wouldn't look away. Dream waits and waits.

Dust huffs before leaving wihtout much of a word. Dream will take that as a win.

Dream leaves the kitchen and sees Dust disappear into another room, Dream can hear the sounds of a tv coming from there and will assume Killer is in there.

Okay... Now...

Where the hell is everything? He has no idea what the layout is of this place and it was pure luck he even found the staircase that morning to begin with.

He makes his way back to the staircase and follows it up. He makes sure he isn't watched or followed before starting to silently open doors to check what is behind each one.

Why did his brother have to be dramatic and get a castle?!

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

Nightmare hates this.

His cheeks are starting to hurt from the constant smiling. It is emotionally and mentally exhausting to be happy all the time. No one leaves him alone and everyone seems to have something they very pressingly need Dream's help for.

Which. Meant you. Are not important things!!

Dream needs a better work/home balance and learn to say no.

Nightmare can't even just return to the house that is, probably, Dream's and just hide for a moment because Blue has been by his side the whole time.

Nightmare will admit he is starting to get why Dream likes Blue so much adn seems so protective of him. Blue is a beacon of positive energy and motivation. Blue also seems happy to help Dream with anything and everything.

Honestly at this point Blue is the only reason why Ngihtmare hasn't started losing his mind at Dream just yet.

Everyone around him. the whole time. noise or people and their emotions. the pressure of everyone looking at him and trying to get his help. The amount of people trying to just stand next to him and soak up some of that positive aura is disgusting.

Nightmare has half the mind to kidnape his twin just to make sure that he knows he can actually say 'No' and tell people to piss off because it is starting to get concerning.

Nightmare hasn't had the impulse to throw this many people through windows in a while.

One more person from somekind of universe runs up to him "Dream Dream! I need your help!"

Nightmare has to take a very deep breath as he tries to control his temper. easy and calm. easy and calm. He manages to pull the smile back full force and turns to them "But of course! Happy to help. What do you need help with?"

The person smiles "Well! I wanted to do my grocerries but I ended up not going because I was watching this movie and it was jsut so good! Anyway. Would you mind doing my grocerries for me?"

Deep breaths Nightmare. Deep breaths.

The person continues on "The next part just started and I also really want to see that but by the time that one finishes the store will be closed!"

Deep. Breaths.

They continue the smile "And obviously I will pay you back later but-"

"No."

they blink. Nightmare stares back.

They frown "Waht? Why not?"

Nightmare honestly tries to keep it in but why would he? This is an idiot and they deserve to know "Because this is a result of your own neglect of your responsibilities and I don't see why it would then be up to me to fix this. Especially as you yourself still have the chance to do it yourself. But instead you are trying to use me and get an easy out. Not only that but you are also asking me to pay for this?"

The slowly cross their arms "You enver minded before..."

Anger. Rage. Nightmare manages to just stare "Well I mind now. Do it yourself. If you are adult enough to live on your own wihtout supervision you should be able to take care of yourself." Nightmare turns and walks away.

The person is enraged at him and Nightmare feels very smug about it. The person shouts after him "You are being a real asshole there Dream! And very selfish!"

Ngihtmare just keeps walking. don't commit murder in Dream's body. that is a very sure way to get others to notice you are not him.

Blue still walks with him and Nightmare glares "What?"

Blue blinks and tilts his skull "I am just happy you are finally starting to take my advice to not help everyone with everything. You gotta limit yourself or get burned out." Blue stops him and stares at him worried "Are you finally ready to tell me what is wrong Dream? I am worried about you..."

Nightmare considers what to say before sighing "I need a break." weak. Nightmare just, can't handle this. The constant demands and people asking him to do things. It is different with his boys. the real happiness they feel for him may sting slightly but it is real. The happiness of these people. It just isn't truly on that same level. There is no actual affection or care or even understanding behind it. It is about possession and demand and feeling like they earned it.

While they earned nothing.

How does Dream deal with them?

Blue nods "Yeah. Lets go to my place. People are less likely to bother you there. and If anyone asks I will just tell them you are sick."

Nightmare stares at Blue "I don't get sick. I can't get sick."

Blue snorts "Dream. The only three people in the whole multiverse that know that are, you, your twin, and me. If anyone asks we tell them you are sick." and he grins.

Ngihtmare stares at Blue for a moment "You are the only being in the multiverse with a functioning brain."

Blue snorts and laughs "Nightmare will be happy to hear you say that Dream." and he grins widely.

Nightmare snorts himself, a little inside joke just for him, "I know what I said."

They manage to find Core for a ride. Ngihtmare is relieved by that as he hasn't quite figured out how Dream makes portals just yet. Luckily Blue had decided for him that they would catch a ride instead of trying one themselves.

-----------

Dream reads through another report on the changes and shifts in the balance between positivity and negativity. another one that Dream had thought had been an attack agaisnt the multiverse but instead this report spoke about the high positivity levels making the universe unstable and them having to shift it.

The report speaks of a mild success and mentions a message to Error that this universe could be skipped for destruction for a while as they had managed to make it stable enough to last it a bit longer.

So many reports. So many universe which had been unbalanced.

Compared to all the reports Drema had read until now only about 10% spoke about getting higher negativity levels for Nightmare or getting supplies in a raid.

Everything else? All about universes that needed rebalancing and a shift in the right direction to keep them stable.

Dream leans back in the chair and yelps as the tendrils ache. He looks up adn groans as he sees the tentacles once again completely braided together. He doesn't want to have to try to undo it again and-

"Sup Boss!"

Oh are you kidding him?!

Dream had thought the people in the Omega timeline could be pushy or clingy. But it is nothing on these four. They just. Keep showing up!

It is like they are taking shifts! Dream manages to get one out and a new one will show up within 15 minutes.

Dream sighs and looks up "Waht do you want this time you. you..." you... you... Dream doesn't want to be mean. But Ngihtmare probably insults them... right? "Worms."

Cross's whole face turns sad and worried "Worms?" Oh Dream feels so bad about this. Oh no he looks so sad and hurt and why did Dream say that?

Killer however grins widely "worms! new nickname lets go!" he grins widely

Horror just looks at him with a raised brow "You okay boss?"

Dream feels himself get anxious as he tries to channel some stern face but he is unsure how well he is managing "what is it?"

Cross just keeps looking down at the floor with a sad expression as he mutters the word 'worms' to himself.

Horror looks back "Oh Killer pushed Dust down the stairs."

Drema blinks before looking at Killer "You did what?!"

Killer grins widely as he throws out his arms "I would never!"

A second later a very angry Dust shows up "He so did! The asshole pushed me!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not times infinity! Hah! I win!"

Dust glares and tries to tackle Killer but Dream, or lets be real Nightmare's tentacles, stop him and catch Dust mid air.

Dream takes a few breaths but he gives up "No pushing each other down the stairs! I can't even believe i need to say this!"

Horror speaks up "Again."

Dream feels himself stand up straighter "Again?!" luckily all of them seem to not hear the question in his outraged cry as Killer nods with a pout and Dust just huffs.

It is slightly concerning how unbother Dust looks by being up in onf of those tentacles.

Dream rubs his face as he tries to keep his spinning thoughts calm "I am going to be quick about it. I want all four of you to behave for ten minutes so I can look through my reports and figure out where to go to next!"

His brother had so many reports. If Dream could find some positive universe and spread a tiny bit of negativity then Nightmare, in Dream's own body, would feel that and come to Dream and then Dream can try to get them to switch back.

Silence answers him and he looks up to see all four of the gang look at him and nod. Dream waits for a moment before nodding himself "Good!" He has to focus on the tentacle and imagines it putting Dust down before it actually listens. The tendril seems unwilling to let Dust go.

Dream takes a deep sigh and sits back at Nightmare's desk as he starts reading through reports. He looks back up only to see all four of the gang relaxing around him and Nightmare's desk.

Dream rubs his face. considers going against it before just going wiht the flow. Fine! if they want to watch him read reports so be it! Dream turns back to the many reports as he tries to figure out which place would be best. By the stars Nightmare has so much information and he straight up has a whole catagory on different universes and what key differences are and how to spot these when first entering an universe.

There is just so much knowledge and understanding about all of these universe. Nightmare even took time ot learn which universes are most likely to interact. to cross over. or to even be able to hold a stable connection to serve as trading route.

Dream looks up and spots that those stupid tentacles had moves again! Each of them holds one of the four gang members and Dream is trying to think on how to put them back down.

Then he sees all four of them... asleep. peacefully asleep as they lay either rolled up in the tentacle or seem to hug them in their sleep.

Dream stares for a moment and wonders just how often this happens for that to be the natural reaction before he turns back to the reports. the answer has to be in these.

----------

Nightmare feels the spike of negativity as soon as it happens. It si fear from somewhere in the multiverse and he sits up straight.

Blue looks over worried "Dream?"

Nightmare knows it within a second with absolute certainty "My brother." it is dream. Dream has entered an universe and is... causing fear?

Maybe a trap. Or... a beacon.

Blue frowns at him "Are you sure you are ready for this Dream? I don't think you are... fully rested yet."

Nightmare is already up and nods "I am sure." Now the hard part. He focusses on the magic so much like his own but different. the only thing that is avaiable to him is Dream's magic and it will have to do. He focusses on the positivity and wills it to open a connection to where he feels the spike of negativity.

A portal opens before them.

Blue nods as he grabs his hammer "Let's go."

They step through together and Nightmare looks around. He is quick to spot himself.

Nightmare glares as he crouches low before he is off like a bullet right at his own body. The shock on his own face is satisfying.

More satisfying is tackling himself as he and Dream tumble down the sloop into the overgrowth behind it.

Dream yelps and tries to retaliate but Nightmare knows his own body and his own limits. Nightmare is quick to get Dream in a headlock and hisses "Give me back my body."

Dream groans "I am trying! Let go so we can figure this out before they find us!"

Nightmare frowns and waits for just a moment to see if they are followed. He feels some slight confusion and worry from everyone else but there seems to be a bit of a standoff.

Nightmare sighs and lets go of Dream "Quickly then."

Dream huffs as he gets up only to stagger as Ngihtmare sees his tendrils flex. Nightmare snorts "Haven't figured out how to keep them still yet?"

Dream glares at Ngihtmare wiht his own face "Shut up. Just tell me you have na idea how to switch us back."

Nightmare sighs "Obviously we tried to recreate what happened in our last fight." Nightmare focusses and calls forth his, Dream's? this is getting confusing, aura.

Dream hisses slightly, no doubt feeling the burn, before nodding and quickly doing the same.

Both hold out a hand and inch their aura's around each's other's aura and towards the other twin.

Nightmare feels his own magic reach him and it feels like a blast of cool air on a summer day. He lets himself follow it and-

His body burns by the positivity right before him and he jumps back. His tendrils helping Ngihtmare move back and away from Dream.

Dream lets out a loud sigh of relieve as he lets himself sink to his knees "Oh that feels so much better..."

Nightmare nods as he flexes a tendril "I agree."

A moment of silence and peace between the two as neither makes the move to attack first.

Dream speaks up first "I... I never realised how... how much just tiny bits of positivity hurt..."

Nightmare shurgs "You get used to it. and sometimes it is better to feel the sting than the alternative."

Dream nods as he shoots Nightmare a smile.

Nightmare frowns "You can say no."

Dream blinks "Excuse me?"

Nightmare sighs "You should say no sometimes. It is unhealthy to keep giving everything you have to everyone. especially if they don't actually need help or are even thankful or grateful for it." Nightmare shoots his brother an unimpressed look "Learn to manage your work/home life."

Dream blinks before laughing and shooting him a grin "You sound like Blue."

Nightmare nods "You should listen to him more then."

Another moment of peace before both their groups get to them. Neither feel much for fighting and both call for a retreat very quickly.

Both have a lot to think about anyways.

---------

"Wait?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU AND YOUR TWIN HAD BEEN SWITCHED?! THAT EXPLAINS SO MUCH!"

#writing #utmv #fanfic #fanfiction #Nightmare did in matter of fact reassure Cross that he does not think he is a worm #Cross is very relieved #The one who said the last sentence us up to you #as for where Error and Ink where?#They were doing their own B-plot where they got stuck somewhere and had to work together to get out #They did not work together #which is why they were away for so long #Anyway #Hope you like your little pressie ;)#Just a little something inspired by your comics #No i am not going to proofread #Nor Am i going to edit.#Am tired.#Nightmare Sans #Dream Sans

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luvrhischier · 1 year ago

Text

never let go // trevor zegras

part 1 pairing: trevor zegras x reader

word count: 3.9k (i’m sorry i went overboard again)

a/n: jumps between povs, each part is labeled and split by long black divider though (if you don’t like this sort of thing, sorry <3), no use of ‘y/n’ again.

warnings: none (i think)

(him)

Trevor just stood there, his legs wouldn't move, no matter how badly he wanted them to. He wanted to run after you but he couldn't. From his frozen haze he saw Luke run out the door. That should be him running to you and he knew that.

"Everybody out! Party's over!" Jamie yelled. Everyone quickly walked out. Jamie looked over to Nico. “Can you make sure everyone who shouldn't be driving gets an Uber, I'll pay, I don’t even care anymore just please make sure everyone is safe and out of here." Nico nodded and left, dragging a still slightly drunk Jack with him. He would be no help to the conversation about to happen in the state he was in. Now it was just Jamie, Quinn, and Trevor. Once the front door was shut Quinn forcefully turned Trevor around. He still looked shocked and a few tears had begun to run down his face.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Quinn finally spoke up. Trevor opened his mouth to say something but no words came out.

"If you weren't my best friend I would beat the shit out of you," Jamie said through gritted teeth. "Do you have any idea what you’ve done?"

"She," Quinn pointed towards the door you had just walked out of, "is like a little sister to me and you just broke her heart in front of an entire party of random strangers." Quinn's voice was calm, too calm, it was frightening. "And you're not my best friend so I will gladly beat the shit out of you." He stepped forward but Jamie stopped him as Trevor finally spoke.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," he whispered.

"What do you mean?! You went into this whole thing knowing you had feelings for her."

"What thing?" Quinn interrupted.

"Do you wanna tell him?" Jamie crossed his arm. Trevor said nothing. "Are you really going to make me tell him?"

"We've been sleeping together," Trevor said softly. Quinn exhaled.

"How long?" He asked.

"Since my birthday," he paused, scared of how Quinn would react after he said his next words, "last year." Quinn saw red. Yes, you were old enough to make your own decisions, but he hated that this decision ended with you in tears and running out the door.

"You've been stringing her along for over a year?!" Quinn's voice got louder with each word.

"No, I swear! I didn't think she felt the same way I did, and if-" Trevor's voice broke.

"Come on, Trevor," Jamie sighed. "You're dumb, but you're not that dumb. Everyone can see that she loves you and you love her."

It was quiet for a moment.

"You better fix this," Quinn spoke one last time as he headed for the door, he didn't trust himself to not punch Trevor if he stayed any longer.

"She is the best thing that has ever happened to you, don't let her get away." Jamie walked away.

(you)

The first week after that night everyone gave you your space. Texts were your only form of communication, you didn't trust yourself to talk, you knew your voice would be coarse from all the crying.

Trevor would call and text you everyday and every time he did you ignored him. Eventually you muted his notifications, you knew you should've blocked him but you weren't ready for that.

────

The second week after that night you no longer had space. At least one of your friends were with you at your apartments at all times. These days were filled with binge watching cringy reality shows and lots of take out. You started to smile and laugh again.

────

The third week after is when you finally left your apartment.

On Monday, Quinn took you to the beach, complaining about how he was getting sand in places he didn't know sand could get into. You laughed as he got hit on, multiple times. He just awkwardly said 'thank you,' every time he was complimented. Once the, one sided, flirting stopped Quinn soon became your greatest enemy. When you got up to stretch your legs he took that as an opportunity to grab you and throw you into the water. Once you came out of the water you saw Quinn dying of laughter. When he saw the look on your face he ran for his life.

On Tuesday, Luke dragged you to an arcade. You beat him at air hockey and might have gotten a little too excited based on the looks you got from all of the parents with their little kids. He accused you of cheating saying 'You rigged this somehow. I should've won, I literally play hockey for a living!’ You just laughed and called him a sore loser followed by a laugh and, ‘Maybe it’s time you retire and I take your place. I do look pretty good in red.’ He just scoffed and walked off to the next game.

On Wednesday, Jack made you go to an amusement park. He said that the two of you had to go on every single ride. The day started good but soon Jack's face started to go pale. You said you two should probably leave but he refused. He said he was fine and that it was time for the big rollercoaster. As soon as you got off the ride Jack ran to the nearest trash can and threw up. You whispered a quick 'I told you so,' and Jack just gave you the middle finger.

On Thursday, Nico forced you to go on a hike with him, you hated this. He didn’t tell you how long the hike was going to be and you wanted to punch him. The hike was filled with you cursing at him, while he just laughed. It was worth it once you saw the view at the top. The smug look on Nico's face however, was not worth it. You jokingly said you would push him off the cliff if he didn't wipe that look off his face.

On Friday, Jamie just simply walked around town with you as you shopped, not complaining once, that night he took you to a drive-in movie theater that was playing your favorite movie. This might have been your favorite activity of the week. Just you and one of your closest friends laughing being a little too loud and getting told to shut up by the cars next to you, almost getting kicked out.

You thought you would get to have a quiet night alone on Saturday but that thought went out the window when you heard a knock on your door. You opened the door and saw all of them standing there, a couple holding snacks and a few holding blankets and pillows.

"What is all of this?" You laughed.

"We’re staying over," Jack said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, he then pushed past you letting himself in.

"Yeah, no, of course you can totally come in," you joked sarcastically.

"We know," Nico said, you playfully slapped his back as he walked by.

You watched as the blankets were dropped on the living room floor and the snacks were placed on the coffee table.

"I don't have a say in this, do I?" You crossed your arms

"Nope!" They all said in unison. You rolled your eyes playfully before joining them.

(him)

The last three weeks had been absolute hell for Trevor. During those three weeks he barely saw Jamie or anyone else, he knew he deserved that thought. The silence and alone time gave him a lot of time to think. When he wasn't in bed, he was out driving. He never had a destination in mind, he just wanted to clear his head but, as if the universe was playing some sick joke on him, he always ended up at your apartment building.

That Sunday morning was no exception. He sat there for what felt like eternity before he noticed people exiting the building. He focused to see who it was and he felt his heart start racing once he did. It was Jamie, Quinn, Jack, Luke, and Nico. Quickly he ducked, thankful that the parking spot he was in was somewhat covered by a tree. After a few minutes he finally looked to see if the coast was clear. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

This was his moment. He could go up to you and finally explain everything, finally see you again, even if it was for the last time. He took a few deep breaths before opening the car door. Slowly, he walked towards the side entrance of the building. Once he got there he stopped and remembered, he had given your spare key to Jamie, he couldn't get into the building. He looked over at the intercom system and saw the button with your name. He obviously couldn't press it. You would turn him away immediately. He looked at the only other name that he knew.

Miss Bea. The old lady who lived across the hall from you. The lady who you would spend most of your free time with and the lady who always came over to your apartment on Sunday nights for dinner and card games. You both quickly became an important part in each other's lives. You were close, Miss Bea was like your grandmother and you were like her granddaughter. He knew that you had definitely told Miss Bea what had happened and he also knew that Miss Bea was terrifying when she was mad. With a shaky hand he pressed the button next to Miss Bea's name. He waited for a second before he heard her voice.

"Who is this? What do you want?" She asked quickly. Trevor froze and couldn't speak. "If this is some kind of prank or whatever you kids do these days you better get to running before I get down there." He knew that wasn't an empty threat.

"Hi-," his voice wavered for a second. "Hi, Miss Bea. It's-um-it's Trevor." He braced himself.

"You have some nerve coming here!" She was almost yelling.

"I know, ma'am, I know." He stopped and ran his hand through his hair, he didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything. It was silent for awhile. Trevor began to think she had walked away.

"Are you here to apologize?" She said curtly.

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered.

"Speak up I can't hear you. I said, are you here to apologize?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said once again, this time loud and clear. It went quiet again. He thought that maybe she had just walked away as he just stood there for awhile. Soon the door in front of him opened and there stood the short but mighty, and scary, little old lady.

"You make her cry angain and I will end you." She pointed at him. "I know people. One call and they'll be here in a second."

Trevor gulped and quickly nodded his head in fear. He had no doubt that she did in fact 'know people,' and he did not want to meet them. She let him walk in front of her and he waited to help her up the stairs with an arm held out.

"Don't get all gentlemen like now." She waved her hand shooing him away. He nodded his head before turning and making his way to your apartment.

Before he knew it he was standing at the door. With a shaky hand he knocked before he lost the courage. Time felt like it had slowed down. Soon the door swung open.

"Guys, I told you-"

(you)

Your stomach dropped instantly. There he was standing right in front of you. Quickly you tried to slam the door but he stopped it with his foot.

"Wait!" You opened the door once again.

"How the hell did you get in here?" You wanted to yell but you didn't. Before he could respond you saw Miss Bea walking to her front door with a little smirk on her face. "Miss Bea?!" You said in disbelief.

"Are we still on for dinner tonight, dear?" She asked in the most nonchalant voice you had ever heard. Your jaw dropped. "Honey, we talked about this, close your mouth or you're going to catch flies." She joked as she closed her door, leaving you alone with Trevor. You quickly closed your mouth before looking at the boy who had caused you so much pain.

"Can we please talk?" He whispered.

"I don't want to talk to you." You started to shut the door again.

"Then can you please listen? Just listen to what I have to say and if by the time I'm done you still want me to leave I will leave and I will never bother you again." You let out a sigh and opened the door, slowly.

"You have 5 minutes," you knew that was far too generous but, sadly, you desperately wanted to hear what he had to say. You stepped aside and let him in. You watched as he looked around your apartment like he had never been there before. All of the pictures of the two of you and the small little trinkets the two of you had collected over the years were tucked away in the back of your closet. There was no trace of him anymore. "You're wasting time. You’re 5 minutes started when I closed the door." You said as you crossed your arms. Finally, he turned to you, and for the first time you got a proper look at him. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair was a mess, and his face wasn't as bright as it used to be.

"Do you remember that field trip we took back in second grade, to the aquarium?" He asked. You nodded your head, extremely confused as to why that is what he started with. He looked down at his hands. "You were terrified to walk through the shark tunnel, so I held your hand and promised that I would protect you." He chuckled but his voice was still shaking.

It took everything in you not to smile at the fond memory.

"That was the first time I felt it. Obviously I didn't know what ‘it’ was at the time. But when my mom picked me up from school that day I told her she had to take me to the hospital immediately. She asked what was wrong and tried to see if i had any injuries. I told her you gave me cooties. She just laughed and I remember I got so upset because I thought I was dying and my mom was just laughing at me. She finally asked me why I thought you had given me cooties. I told her that my tummy felt all warm and fuzzy after I let go your hand and it happened again every time you laughed or smile or looked at me. She laughed again and told me it wasn't cooties and that I would understand when I was older." He wiped his nose on his sleeve, you turned around and grabbed a tissue box.

"Here," you whispered softly as you offered it to him.

"Thank you.” He wiped his nose before continuing. "Then in seventh grade there was that cheesy little winter formal and that little dickhead Tyler asked you to dance. Except it wasn’t even a real slow dance you both just stood there awkwardly with your hands on each other’s shoulders, stepping side to side.” You let out a quick and short laugh. Trevor laughed too. "I was so mad that he asked you before I did and that's when I started to realize that maybe I wanted more than just a friendship with you. You two started dating and at first I thought it wasn't gonna last because, c'mon we were in middle school, middle school relationships never last. But somehow you did and you lasted all the up to the end of sophomore year, which surprised everyone, especially me. You two finally broke up because you caught him cheating-"

"Okay, okay, you don't need to bring that part up," you muttered.

"And then somehow Tyler ended up with a broken nose..." he trailed off.

"And you somehow ended up with bruised knuckles,” you chuckled. A lightness began to fill the air.

"Hey, don't look at me, Tyler never said who did it." He raised his hands up in surrender. You could see Trevor's face start to light up again. “The end of senior year came and prom was coming up. You went on and on about how there was no chance in hell you were going. You turned down a dozen promposals. I was able to convince you to go with me because I promised I would stay by your side the entire time. I still had to drag you out of the house though. That's the night we had our first kiss, it was during a slow dance, a real slow dance, and we laughed because it was a complete cliché. We never talked about that kiss afterwards, we both acted like it never happened, and I hated that. It terrified me but that's when I knew 100%," he paused as he took a small step forward, and you let him. "That's the night I realized I was completely in love with you. I have been in love with you since before I even knew what love was. I still am and I will always be in love with you."

You didn't know when they started but you finally felt tears stream down your face. You stood there in shock. He felt the same way you did. He was in love with you. He has been his entire life.

"I never acted on those feelings because I thought you didn’t feel the same and that you never would. I’m a complete mess and all over the place and you’re…” he paused. “You’re, you. Then my birthday happened and everything got so complicated. I should have told you that very first night but I couldn’t, I couldn’t ruin our friendship more than it probably already was. I need you in my life so I took you in whatever way that would keep you by my side. Which was fucked up and completely selfish," he whispered.

"But what about that night? You didn't seem to be in love with me then," your voice broke a little at the end.

"I thought you were mad at me. You were short on the phone with me and then your phone went straight to voicemail every time I tried to call and you didn't read any of my texts.”

“So your first thought was to hook up with some random girl?” You cut him off.

“No! I don’t know!” He stuttered loudly, regretting his choice of words when he saw your eyes filled with hurt. “Fuck! No! You make my mind get all jumbled up and I can’t think straight when I’m around you or even when I just think about you. I jumped to conclusions and I thought that everything was over, our friendship and our…whatever we became, and just the thought of that sent me into a self destructive spiral, I wanted to get you out of my head and I failed and I hurt you while doing so. I should’ve told you how I felt that night at prom. I should’ve tried harder, I know that now, and I should've fought for you. I should've ran after you that night.”

“Yeah, you really should have,” you whispered. Slowly but surely you could feel your heart getting put back together again with every word he said. You could feel your love grow the more he talked.

“I have been beating myself up everyday for the past three weeks because all I did was stand there and let you walk away. You are quite literally the best thing that has ever happened to me. I would give everything up if it meant you'd forgive me and that I could spend the rest of our lives making it up to you. I'd even give up hockey if you asked me to, I really hope you don't because I'm really not good at anything else." He was rambling, saying whatever thought came into his head. He went to continue speaking but you just laughed and closed the space between the both of you.

You grabbed his shirt and kissed him. You kissed him with everything you had. He stood there shocked for a second before he finally relaxed into the kiss, cupping your face with both of his hands. This kiss was unlike any of the kisses before. There was no rush, no roughness, there was just love. You could feel the love radiating off of both of you and you never wanted it to end. Sadly it had to. You had to breathe.

"What was that for? I mean not that I didn't enjoy it, I really enjoyed it. I just mean does-" you interrupted him with another kiss.

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?" You asked as you pulled away. You wiped the few tears still left on his face and he did the same for you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, his wrapped around your waist.

"I've been told that once or twice," he joked, all you did was laugh before bringing him in for a soft peck. He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes closed and face full of love and happiness. The two of you just stood there in silence for a moment, taking in and processing everything that just happened.

"Hey Trev," you waited for some kind of response. Which came in the form of a questioning hum. "You got the story wrong." You pulled away, and walked over to your couch, Trevor right behind you. You both sat down

"What do you mean?" He questioned.

"The aquarium," you looked at him with a smirk. "You were the one who was terrified to walk through the shark tunnel, not me." He looked at you like you were crazy.

"No I wasn't, it was you!" He argued. He leaned back against the couch and pulled you with him.

“Maybe you’ve fallen on the ice one too many times because I’m right,” you laughed, your laughter causing Trevor to laugh. You curled into his side and he wrapped his arms around you.

Once your laughter died down Trevor spoke up again.

“I’m so happy you forgave me because I did not want to fall victim to Miss Bea’s ‘people,’ that really would’ve sucked.” He shuddered at the thought.

You looked up at him and the scared look on his face caused you to smile bigger than you ever had before. He looked down at you and playfully scoffed at your smiling face before leaning down to softly kiss you again.

This is what you both wanted for the rest of your lives. Laughing until your ribs hurt, kissing like it was the last time, and all the good times and bad times in between.

It wasn’t going to be easy, and you still had a lot to talk about, but you knew, with every fiber of your being, that he was never going to let you go again, he was never going to let you walk out that door, and you were never going to let him do the same.

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras fluff #trevor zegras fic #trevor zegras blurb #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #quinn hughes #jamie drysdale #luke hughes #jack hughes #nico hischier #jack hughes x reader #quinn hughes x reader #jamie drysdale x reader #luke hughes x reader #nico hischier x reader

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justice-maul · 2 years ago

Text

Jason Todd x Top Werewolf Male Reader | Headcanons Part 2

Word count: 1,595

Request(s):

I like the thought that werewolves can go into heat, on that note what if the dug or medicine if used to often their body refuses to take it kinda like reacting to poison? But if werewolves haven't had their heat in a while than it can be pretty intense. Leading up to werewolf reader completely railing Jason? - @xweirdo101x

Author Note: I love this idea and this gif is perfect for it, ugh 😩 I love Jason Todd and it shows. Read part 1 in order to understand this one.

THANK YOU FOR 400 FOLLOWERS I LOVE YALL

Warning(s)⚠: Sub Jason, porn with plot, manhandling, intense sex, animal like features, Reader has a big dick, fingering (Character receiving,) slight biting, making out, and last but most definitely not least… Breeding.

Ever since you’ve told Jason about what you really were, things have going well in your relationship for the past few months and you two have actually built a good bond of trust which just made your love for each other much stronger. But it also arises some new feelings that we’re racing in Jason’s mind

Now that he knew, you felt more comfortable showing your true strength, speed, and resilience, and while he’d never admit it to you, he couldn’t help but feel a little aroused every time you showed it off, knowing what you could so easily do to him was just such a turn on to him something he never expected would be before you

You told Jason about your heat cycle and how they can get really intense and pretty rough so you use suppressors for them which he was completely fine with but when your heat cycle came around, it seemed that your body has finally gained immunity to it at the worst time possible,

Jason was out doing his usual patrols and work at night and you were in pain and need to breed something but you wanted to hold back and not worry him, but when Jason came home that night, he called out for you and only when he walked in your shared bedroom he could finally see everything in full display

You were on the bed breathing heavily and panting as you fisted your cock desperate for release for the sixth time that day but no matter how many times you came you only felt worse, the sweat on your body was glistening, your load was twice as much, and your mind can only think about one thing and that was to relieve the aching pain in your body that was in desperate need to rail and fuck someone with your cock

Jason was frozen in place, he watched feeling completely turned on by the view in front of him, they have done many things but Y/n looked… different like this, almost animalistic and the thought of his boyfriend using his strength against him was just such a turn on to him as he just couldn’t help himself. He shifted in his weight making a floorboard creak and the noise immediately caught your attention chasing you to snap your head and toward him

Jason’s knees almost buckled at the sight of your eyes that looked exactly like a wolf’s were full of desire and absolute hunger which made his body shiver in anticipation as he slowly approached the bed with your eyes following him, not at all leaving his body for a moment, you were fighting every thought in your head that told you to pounce on him and fucking him mercilessly even though you knew that both of you wanted it

He closed the door shut and slowly got on the bed “You mind if I…” he gulped as his eyes trailed down to your length that was throbbing between your hands “Help you?…” for a second you both stayed silent, the atmosphere being very thick in the air as you both looked into each other’s eyes before you suddenly grabbed his hips flipping him onto the bed pushing him ok his back with thick muscular thighs spread out beautifully and you immediately dived between his thighs

You opened your mouth to say something your wolf fangs getting flashed to Jason which only fueled his arousal but instead of talking you leaned forward and softly bite his inner thigh, not enough to hurt but just good enough to send shivers throughout his body “Oh- god…” a whine came from his throat as he felt his cock twitch and slowly harden creating a small pool of cum on his stomach as your teeth lightly move along his inner thigh, grazing his skin as you move deeper between them

He felt your tongue loll out of your mouth and slowly begin to trace over the thick meat of his strong thighs as he practically teased both him and yourself just tasting the sweat on his skin as you inhaled the musk on his body practically tasting his scent the more you pressed into him which only made your length wetter with anticipation, he could feel your fingernails that were much sharper and longer than normal, they looked like they could claw right through him as you lightly pressed them into his skin before you finally had enough and couldn’t take it anymore rubbing your tongue over his hole before immediately pushing it in his puckered pink hole causing him to let out a choked whine

Your tongue pressed against his hole pushing in and out to tease the rim only to push your tongue further in his hole watching as he swallows the spit that gathered in his mouth and let out soft little whimpers as he bit his lip to try and muffle the noises, he watched as you pressed a thumb in and began to push it further down his hole, stretching it open and pulling it out only to watch as it clenched around nothing, you suddenly put in two fingers and scissored his heat causing him to elect a louder moan, impatiently trying to open it up enough for your cock that was throbbing in your pants and rubbing against the bed sheets

The friction only increased your lust as you fingered him faster and you can feel his patience running thin as well “Just please… fuck me already…” he begged helplessly as you stretched him open, watching as his hole squeezed down on your fingers only for you to add another finger and fuck his insides with them faster, a loud string of cusses words and moans left Jason’s lips as he felt your fingers graze against his prostate which only made him grow more impatient as a loud moan elected from his throat and you decided you both had enough so you pulled your fingers out causing him to whine from the emptiness and you wrapped your hand around your aching cock that was throbbing from the lack of attention

Jason took notice of how your cock looked somehow bigger while you were in heat and his cock twitched at the sight imagining how it would fill up his insides and completely wreck his hole only for him to look at your wolf-like gaze that pierced through his soul and the look Jason gave you right then and there was pure want and need as he reached over and gave your arousal a slow long pump feeling how it pulsed and somehow got harder in his hand, his lips parting as if he wanted to taste it but you were, long done with waiting so you grabbed him by his waist flipping him over so his face was pressed up against the pillows and his hips were raised giving you access to his wet gaping hole

Looking at the sight of Jason splayed out like this right in front of you, a complete mess you couldn’t hold back anymore and began to slowly grind your too against him before you finally pushed in his heat causing him to let out a string of cuss words at how much bigger your cock felt inside of him as you slowly began to stretch him out before finally bottoming out inside of him “Shit! Your so f-fucking big..!” He moaned out pathetically his hands clawing at your back eyes watering with tears and his jaw was slack as you leaned in to give him a sloppy kiss your tongue tasting his lips before pushing into his mouth as you drank in his moans before softly biting his bottom lip pulling at it before letting it go, electing a whine from his puffy lips

Your tongue was much longer than before he swore you could’ve even deep-throat him with how long it was now and the way you were using your tongue on him felt as if you were fucking his mouth the same rough and passionate way you fucked his hot stretched out hole railing him as if you were truly just an animal causing his mind to fall blank as he threw his head back and arched into your large cock feeling as it rammed against his prostate over and over again. Your thrusts only quickened as you felt your release coming near and you began to rut into him letting out a deep moan/growl from your throat as you felt the heat growing inside of you and you leaned down biting his neck

Although it wasn’t hard enough to break skin it made Jason let out a loud moan as his cock twitched before finally spilling all over his stomach his orgasm only causing him to clench down on your length making you groan before you spilled your own load inside of him making him whimper as he felt your seed seeping into his hole deep inside of him, some of it spewing out of it because of the intense amount of build-up from your heat and you pulled out watching as it all spilled out only for you to thrusts your hips back into his wet sticky mess and beginning to pound him all over again making him let out a yell as he couldn’t even keep up with you anymore and he knew that this night was far from over and him getting any restraint that night was very unlikely, but he couldn’t complain for a moment

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weird-is-life · 10 months ago

Note

omg i saw that you’re requests are open!! 🤍

i had an idea about a reader slowly learning about tasm!peter tell when he’s lying and that’s how she finds out he’s injured/spider-man. reader’s smart, he can’t it from them forever!

hope you’re doing well!! 🤍 no rush on this at all.

Hi lovely, ty for the request💕!! Hopefully, this is okay. Warnings: Peter's hurt, mentions of wound and blood, pet names, fluff, (0.8k)

Peter thinks, he's very slick. And maybe it's true with most of the people, but not with you. Never with you.

Peter has this tell, he scrunches his nose everytime he lies. It's not very obvious, but if you know about it and pay attention, you can notice it.

And that's how you know, Peter's trying to hide something now.

You are both sitting on the couch and Peter keeps breathing funnily. It sounds like he's trying to breath like he normally would, but he's failing very badly to do that.

You asked him, what was wrong, when you thought, you saw him wince. But he said, that nothing is wrong and you didn't want to push him, so you let it go.

And now as you watch a movie, you are leaning against his chest, he has his arm around your shoulder and everytime you move, even if just a little, Peter winces quietly.

You finally have enough and turn to face Peter with a frown," Pete, what's wrong?"

"What do you mean? Nothing is wrong, I'm okay," he lies and you see right through him. The little scrunch of his nose is hard to miss for you.

"I know, you're lying, Peter. Your wincing and your breathing tell me enough to know, that something is wrong," you tell him, frowning.

"Sweetheart-" he starts, but you don't let him, you stand up from the frustration and look at him, maybe a little angrily.

He tries to catch your arm, but you put it out of his reach and by doing so Peter winces again from the pain and puts a hand over his side.

You sigh, you don't like seeing him in pain, "Peter, you know, you can tell me anything right? I know you're hurt and it's okay, if you don't want tell me now. Just....just let me take a look at it?"

Peter thinks it over and slowly nods. You quickly go grab the first aid kit and when you come back Peter's right where you left him.

And before you have the chance to pull up his hoodie, he catches your hand.

"Sorry," he apologises," I just....it's pretty bad, I don't want you to freak out."

"It's okay Pete, I promise," you reassure him and you gently start pulling his hoodie up. But as you roll it up, your eyes widen. He has a huge gash almost all over his side. But that isn't what has you choking on the air.

Under the hoodie you can see the remnants of what you know as the suit of Spiderman. It doesn't look a lot like it right now, it's very ripped apart, but it still very much is the Spiderman's suit.

"What the fuck, Peter?" you ask with absolute shock.

He looks at you in confusion, "wha-" he starts to say, when he realises what you're currently looking at.

"Shit," he mutters under his breath and looks at you with a small, unsure smile and a nervously chuckles, "I'm Spiderman?"

You stay frozen in an absolute shock, wide eyes and mouth wide open. It takes you a good moment to recover and react to what you've just learnt.

When you finally do react, you hit him ( lightly) on the arm.

"Ouch, what was that for?" Peter complains as he rubs the slightly sore spot.

"I can't believe you, Pete. You've been going around the city, catching crazy criminals without telling me? You're such an idiot," you glare at him.

Peter's face softens, "i know, I'm sorry sweetheart. I wanted to tell you, believe me I did. But I didn't want to put you in danger."

And when you don't immediately respond, he takes your hand into his and says regretfully, "I'm really sorry, love. Please don't me mad. But I understand, if you are. I'm sorry."

You take one look at his sorry, puppy eyes and he's forgiven. It's impossible to stay mad at him, you can never be angry with him for too long.

"It's okay, Pete. I'm just worried, like look at you," you say and pull his hand in yours towards your lips to kiss him there.

"It looks worse than it is," Peter tries to lighten the mood and knowing he's forgiven, he can't stop smiling at you.

"Worse than it is? It looks horrible," you gesture intensively at the gash.

"It'll heal in no time."

"What? It'll take at least a month to heal," you shake your head in disbelief.

"It'll be okay by the morning," Peter says and seeing your baffled expression, he adds, "I'll explain it. And everything else, too. Just give me a kiss first, please sweetheart?"

"What? Peter, you're almost bleeding to death here and you want me to kiss you-" Peter interrupts your worry and bends down to shut you up. With his lips on yours, you are quick to comply and kiss him back.

Peter doesn't want to let you go anytime soon, even if he really should let you at least clean up the wound. He decides the wound can wait and kisses you some more.

#tasm!peter parker imagine #tasm!peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter imagine

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sirdindjarin · 2 years ago

Text

The Savior - Din Djarin x f!Reader

The Mandalorian, side-quest extraordinaire, accidentally frees a slave, kills a Senator's son, ends a criminal conspiracy, and falls in love. Just a month in the life of the galaxy's favorite chaotic space cowboy and his son.

The Savior / The Concession / The Choice (END)

A/N: i fucking love this man. here's the spotify playlist i made while hallucinating being wrecked by him. I accidentally based this fic on Euphoria by Angels & Airwaves.

AO3 Link🤠

TAGS: Fluff, m!falls first, plot with porn, helmet stays on for now, P in V, outdoor activities, protective!Din, soft-ish!Din.

WARNINGS: reader is/was a slave; references to abuse; no curses or slang outside of Star Wars canon (that's a warning if you hate that hahaha)

**************************************************************

"I thought vagrants were barred at the door. How did a Mandalorian get in here?”

The Mandalorian in question does not react to the insult. At the table before him, the taunting Trandoshan guffaws, but his laughter dies when he gets no reaction from the bounty hunter.

"What do you want?" He snaps, his green jaws clicking shut.

Instead of replying, certain the answer is obvious, the beskar-covered man leisurely surveys the colorful, boisterous room, his hands folded in front of him. Having already scouted the upscale casino, he does this for sarcastic effect. He’s also certain that fact is lost on his Trandoshan quarry.

Upon returning his direct attention to the lizard, a small movement in the booth catches his heat sensor. A young woman, likely his quarry’s slave by her frayed appearance, sits with her head bowed behind her master.

“Hey, tin man, you in there?” Your master’s voice sounds more like rocks scraping together than fluid language.

The Mandalorian chucks a bounty puck onto the table, the name and alien visage of Rathos Craaf glowing in a blue cone of projected light.

“Go quietly or don’t - it makes no difference to me.”

“Ahh,” Rathos Craaf hums in his throat and leans back in his seat, making your demure form more visible to the bounty hunter. “What’s the price?”

The Mandalorian again does not dignify a response.

“Can’t be greater than what I’m willing to pay,” Rathos insinuates.

The tense silence eats through your body as the ruthless men stare at each other - the probability of oncoming violence ratcheting up.

“Go prepare my ship,” your master barks suddenly at you, raising his hand.

Flinching, you scoot around the U-shaped booth to obey.

You weren’t always a slave. As a child on Kenari, you had been born into a world of vivid green, rippling blue, and rich, brown soil. Trained in both hunting and fighting from birth, you had been too young to save your village from the brutal relocation program of the Empire.

Dispersed onto harsher worlds, you’d been sold from one slaver to another until finally coming into the collection of one Rathos Craaf. He has been your master for several years by this point, and while not the worst, he was close.

“What will you do about the girl?” A modulated voice asks.

Pausing on the edge of the hard bench, you look between the two antagonists. Me?

“Who cares about the mudscuffing girl? Tell you what, I’ll sell her to you.” The crafty Trandoshan gets an even better idea: “Or - take her in exchange for the bounty. She’s considered top-tier sentient property.”

“Not what I was asking,” a gloved hand thumbs his blaster. “Once you’re in carbonite, wh-”

The Trandoshan lunges up from his seat with a booming yell, launching at the cloaked, beskar-free neck of the Mandalorian. Rathos’ claws reach around the smaller man’s throat, but the Mandalorian is lighter of foot, ducking out of the hold.

Off-balance, Rathos tumbles but rolls back on his feet, his scaly tail acting as a counterweight. Gasps and mutters spill from the crowd as people scramble out of harm’s way.

You remain seated in the booth, frozen and unsure. But then, as the silver bounty hunter aims his blaster, Rathos whips his tail into the Mandalorian’s legs, knocking him with a clang onto his back.

The blaster goes skittering through the crowd, and you’re shocked to find your legs racing after it.

The thunder of a powerful flame roars in the cavernous room as you weave through aliens and humans alike, searching. The blackness of the blaster appears on the gray floor and you dive for it.

Cold steel excites your skin. It’s heavier than you thought it would be, and though you’ve never fired one, your ancient muscle memory remembers the feeling of a bow in your hands; the trajectory, strength, and steadiness necessary.

Sprinting back through the crowd, you find Rathos pinning the Mandalorian’s chest. The solid armor prevents any of Rathos’ blows from truly hurting the bounty hunter, but the weight of the lizard is too awkward and great for him to shove away from this angle.

The fire-throwing vambrace comes up again and, as it billows into the Trandoshan’s face, you fire a blast at the substantial tail that had once been used against you.

Rathos bellows in pain, tumbling to the side, and the Mandalorian takes full advantage. He jumps to his feet, then connects his fist to his quarry's skull, rendering the creature unconscious. Binders clasp around the arms of your master and the successful bounty hunter staggers backward a single step to catch his breath.

You freeze at what you’ve just done, the blaster still pointed at Rathos. People murmur, and the words, “Killed by his slave” can be heard, though he is only unconscious. Your chest heaves, far more out of breath than the Mandalorian walking toward you.

“Thank you,” he says drily, taking his blaster out of your hands.

Unsure what else you should do, you follow your master as he is dragged without dignity along the smooth fogstone floor.

Exiting the casino, snaking down an alley, and traipsing to the outskirts of the city limits, the silhouette of a ship against the orange horizon becomes visible.

Neither you nor the Mandalorian have spoken a single word since he took the blaster from your hands, but as he presses a button on his vambrace to lower the loading ramp, he turns to you now.

“Grab his tail."

An order. That you could do. You immediately grab Rathos’ tail and lift. The Mandalorian half-drags and half-lifts the Trandoshan by his cuffed hands and the lizard is loaded into the ship’s hold.

Standing at the far end of the Mandalorian’s rather busted ship, you’re surprised to see a small, green being. Dressed in what must be a sack, its long ears perk up and its eyes glimmer at the sight of the bounty hunter. A happy coo reverberates in the quiet, metal space.

The child looks at you and makes another, similar noise. It waddles toward you, but before you can react, the Mandalorian scoops the child into his arms and sequesters it behind a thin blast door.

“You are free to go.”

It’s an odd statement. He must be familiar with the underworld. He knows how slaving works.

You’re not sure when you last spoke; you weren’t allowed to speak. But the bounty hunter seems to expect a reply.

“I am not. The law says I am to be returned to the slavers’ coalition for repurchase.” Your voice is scratchy from disuse and the helmeted man tilts his head in curiosity.

“You won't run?”

It seems too monumental a task. Hopes and fears trip over each other in their efforts to be heard. Freedom. Finding a place to call home. Your family was long dead. But… maybe there was hope of a family somewhere.

Where would I even go? No way I could stay ahead of the slavers. They’d send hunters like this Mandalorian after me. I’d be worse off than I am now.

“I do not know if I can,” you whisper honestly.

The Mandalorian looks at you - at least, you think he does - for so long that you begin to squirm under his gaze.

Without warning, the wind is knocked from you. Rathos’ tail slams into the back of your knees, crumpling you to the floor. His claws wrap around your neck, and you yell, plunging two fingers into his lidless eye.

“Traitorous shutta!” Spittle from your master flies onto your cheeks.

As he recoils from your jab, you squirm underneath him, trying to flee, when the weight on your chest vanishes in a rush of air. Coughing and wiping your face, you lie there momentarily until your throbbing pulse abates inside your head. You sit up and widen your eyes to hasten their focus.

The Mandalorian has the Trandoshan by the throat with both hands. Rathos sputters and gags, but you watch as gloved fingers dig harder into the scaly throat. The anonymous man shoves his quarry into the carbon freezing chamber and smashes the button with more force than necessary.

It's over.

When you woke in the dark that morning, never would you have expected to watch your master be frozen in carbonite aboard a bounty hunter's ship.

That bounty hunter turns to you now.

“I have something I need to do. I’ll give you passage if you provide assistance.”

________________________________

Crossing your arms, tucking your legs under your body, and leaning against the hull in your seat, you try to make yourself as small as possible. You wouldn’t have even climbed up here if the Mandalorian hadn’t indicated that you should.

He wanted to keep an eye on you. He did not trust you around the kid - despite (or perhaps because of) its interest in you.

Moments after leaving the planet’s atmosphere, a new emotion bubbles in your chest: elation. The stars flow by in a technicolor kaleidoscope; hues and shapes you have never seen race past your eyes. It’s beyond anything you could have imagined.

“Has it always looked like this?” You wonder to yourself.

You jump when a deep, electronic voice answers, “Yes.”

“Oh,” you murmur, realizing he had been watching you. “I’ve never seen hyperspace. I was kept in the hold,” you state without self-pity.

The Mandalorian lets that terrible fact hang in the air before eventually saying,“I recommend you get some sleep. It will be several hours before we reach Mid Rim.”

He turns away from you and folds his arms. The muffled clang of his helmet tipping back against the headrest tells you that he will be taking his own advice.

Interestingly, you feel safe enough to get some rest. Being constantly attuned to the temperamental wills and whims of others, you've become a great judge of character.

This Mandalorian, though quiet, is clearly capable of kindness to those who deserve it. A rarity for someone in his profession.

___________________________________

The blue cone glows in his hand, projecting the face of one ugly slug. The name at the bottom, written in a language you had been forced to learn, reads: Salaa the Hutt.

Fearful eyes flick up to the veiled Mandalorian, “A Hutt?”

The helmet nods, “You will be my way in.” You make a whimpering noise, but the bounty hunter continues. “You’re a slave on the run. I will be returning you for a small reward.”

Crushing disappointment deflates your body. Believing yourself to have been wavering between freedom and the life you had known, you realize, now that the decision was being made for you, that you’d chosen freedom. Further adding to your pain is your misjudgement of the Mandalorian.

I’d have never made it to freedom - far too naive. Thought a karking bounty hunter was doing something out of the kindness of his heart. Unbelievable.

Still, to your credit, you take several steps back, almost as though you might try to outrun the nimble, strong bounty hunter with a kriffing jetpack, of all things. You’re proud of yourself for even thinking about doing it.

The Mandalorian doesn’t react. He pockets the puck and opens his weapons cache on the hull wall. He lifts a small item from the assortment and shuts the doors. You can’t see what it is, and he doesn’t return to you.

He opens the blast door to the child’s tiny room. The baby snores in his bungalow, and the ever-fascinating Mandalorian rubs the green, fuzzy head before closing the door. He turns and strides toward you.

You take one more step backward, just because you can. Because you should.

He still says nothing. Closer, and closer, the armored man advances on you until you can see your nervous eyes in his breastplate.

“Give me your wrists.”

Is his voice naturally that persuasive or is it the vocoder?

Overriding your fledgling autonomy, you obey him with a preprogrammed respectful nod. He clasps binders around your wrists.

The Mandalorian steps away to retrieve another weapon, then he lifts his chin toward the boarding ramp.

Shouldn't you at least try to gain freedom? Beg him to let you go?

“Please, I can try to pay you,” this is a lie and he knows it. “Or I could work off the debt of transport. Something!”

It’s the loudest your voice has been in living memory, and it both surprises and emboldens you. But the Mandalorian does not seem swayed.

“Walk,” he orders.

You minutely shake your head twice. It means nothing to him, but everything to you.

An electronic sigh, then he takes a single step toward you. Fear switches you back into the subservient girl of the last twenty years. You flinch, your manacled hands blocking your face.

The Mandalorian falters, slightly abashed. “I am not going to hurt you. But you need to start walking.”

Slowly, you lower your hands. His gloved fingers curl around your bicep, and he leads you out into the sunny air.

It’s a hot day on Niamos. The beachside resort that serves as the capital city is teeming with families of all species bathing in the muggy air. The sandstone path that Mando - that’s what everyone calls them, right? - parades you down is packed with beachgoers. Embarrassed by your plight, you try to hide the binders, but it’s impossible with the angle he holds your arm.

Finding another gust of will, you reason, “Surely you could find a way inside without turning me in? You’re good at your job. You could've killed my m-”

“Salaa angered powerful people. There is a bounty on him and it’s higher if he’s dead.

“What does that mean?”

“He's careful. Employs expensive security. Easiest way in is through the front door,” Mando finishes.

Mando’s leathery hold on your arm is soft. Unyielding, of course, but he doesn’t hurt you. It saddens you to realize how different that is from your usual treatment. He had still binded you and planned on turning you in, but hey! At least he wasn’t going to leave a bruise.

Directing you down a narrow alley, the Mandalorian stops in front of a tan-colored, generic shield door. He raps twice on it, standing casually still. If he feels you shaking, he says nothing about it.

A Yaka man is standing behind the door when it opens with a whoosh. His metal implants reflect the sun and you squint. Behind him are another two Yaka and a particularly menacing-looking Zabrak, all armed with pulse rifles.

“We ain't buyin'," he slurs.

“I'm here to claim the slave reward.”

The Yaka stares at the impenetrable, T-shaped slit in the silver helmet, scrutinizing, before stepping aside. Mando guides you ahead of him, then you hear the spur-like sound of his step over the threshold. The close quarters are sweltering, and sweat beads on your temple.

“This way,” the Yaka servant veers to the right and up a steeply inclined hallway. The other members of the security team follow behind you.

The Mandalorian’s thumb slides over your skin. You would give it more thought if a wide, dingy room wasn’t quickly coming into view.

On the second floor, a muted, sparsely furnished area overlooks the residence across the street, and the beach beyond. However, you can’t see the view because the balcony is being taken up by a massive, blob-like shape, and a tall, spiky silhouette.

“Ahh,” the huge shape speaks, and for the first time in your life, you’re thankful you speak Huttese. “What is this?”

Bowing, the Yaka guard explains, “This Mandalorian has returned a loose slave.”

He grabs for your arm, but you lurch when Mando pulls you out of reach, warning, “Careful. She killed her master before fleeing."

The bodyguard recoils as though you personally threatened him. He steps away, waiting for actual instruction from his boss. The green Rodian next to Salaa tuts in his sour voice.

Deciding it was best not to speak, you raise your chin with dignity as Mando drops his hand from your arm.

“Why do you return her here?” Salaa the Hutt inquires. “Surely you know that I have been removed from my associations. Including the slavers.”

“I am here for information,” Mando drops the ruse completely, his voice calm.

“Information,” the Hutt laughs horribly. “I have much of that, pateesa. What do you wish to know?”

“You should ask what I have to trade first.”

“Hmm. You do not wish to trade the girl, I hope. Must be better than that,” the slimy giant slug laughs derisively.

You don’t even bristle. Worse things had been said to you daily.

The green, mohawked Rodian chuckles. Though you do not understand his language, the human bounty hunter does: “She is too sad-looking to be any fun. Pity.” The reptilian-looking male then makes a vile comment about what he can see through your ratty, loose clothing.

The Mandalorian's eyes narrow, and his right hand drifts toward his hip of its own accord.

“Make your offer, Mandalorian.”

“If you provide the information I need, I won’t claim the ten-thousand-credit bounty on your head.”

That horrible, bulging laugh bursts from the ex-crime boss once more, hurting your ears in its pitch and volume.

“Far too aggressive, Mandalorian. I decline.”

Salaa’s stubby arm motions at the armed security who raise their rifles at the two of you.

While you freeze in terror, the Mandalorian stills in focus. Faster than a hyperdrive, he clenches his fist. Miniature rockets whistle through the tense air, eliminating all three bodyguards; the angry Zabrak, the mouthy Rodian, and the blubbery Salaa remain.

The Mandalorian draws his blaster, pushing you behind him, and fires from his hip as the Zabrak guard begins to raise his modified arm. What type of weapon it held, you’ll never know because he falls to the ground, dead, before he can use it.

The Rodian darts away from Salaa, circling the room. To you, it seems as though he is intending to flee, not fight, but the Mandalorian fires a laserblast at his bug-eyed head, dropping him.

Mando calmly swivels his blaster to Salaa.

Resigned, the Hutt slimily states, “Ask what you wish to know, pateesa.”

“I have been told that you have seen another Mandalorian. Where?”

“Ahh, that is all? I have seen one here.”

“On Niamos?” So surprised, Mando forgets to keep the tone from his voice.

“A beskar-covered man does not go unnoticed on a planet filled with water-bathers,” Salaa laughs again. You visibly wince.

“Where?”

“Where else? Water’s Edge.”

Mando twists his head toward the opposite window as if he could see his fellow Mandalorian from here. He holsters his weapon and turns to leave.

“Those Yaka were expensive guards, pateesa,” the Hutt grumbles ominously.

“You paid too much.”

He returns his hold on your arm, pushing you forward. Marching awkwardly down the sloping halfway, you try to make sense of his actions.

Your face screws up in confusion, “You didn’t turn me in or claim the Hutt’s bounty. You're earning no credits.”

That’s the defining feature of a bounty hunter.

The silence lengthens as you reach the ground floor, and hurriedly exit the sandstone building. As you soak in the blistering sunshine, the hand on your arm turns you to face him. The Mandalorian’s quick fingers remove your binders.

“That’s it?” You rub your wrists even though he had left them on the loosest setting.

“Passage for assistance,” he reminds you.

He then nods once and takes his leave. For an interminable length of time, you watch as he calmly walks away, breaking only when he turns down an alley and is lost from sight.

What the hell do I do now?

__________________________________

The new day is growing late. Din Djarin basks in the heat of the single sun. For being one of those odd planets without plural light sources, the strength of the lone sun is incredible. Din much preferred the scorching, arid planets to the ice-covered ones, and Niamos is perfect. The breeze gently carries through his light flight suit, while the sun warms whatever dark material is visible around the beskar.

While Din feels more comfortable in this climate, heat signatures can be a little bit more difficult to read. He had managed to track a faint heat signature around Water’s Edge. The day before, immediately after speaking with Salaa, Din had come to check the place out, but his quarry had left some hours previously and he had lost the trail.

Din enters the establishment for the second time in as many days. Inside is a large, open floor with dining tables set out across the expanse. High society clinks glasses as they wait for the next act to grace the small stage. Din surveys the room, switching between heat sensors and normal vision, before concluding that the Mandalorian he searches for is beyond the far wall.

Heads turn and stare as Din, strutting as if he belongs, makes his way to the unobtrusive doorway next to the stage. A Mandalorian stands out here. This was a place for people who employed bounty hunters, not those whom they hunt. Din slides the door open, and he is greeted by a dark hallway.

Light spills from a room to his right. Din flips on his heat sensor again, and presses his lips together in satisfaction when the heat signature picks up.

Rounding into the room with confidence, Din observes everything at once.

A large mirror, complete with lights, sits above a desk. A rack of clothing stands lonely in the far corner. And on a stool in front of the mirror sits a Mandalorian, their flaky, blue-painted armor having seen better days.

“My name is Din Djarin,” he announces. “I have been tasked with finding other Mandalorians in order t-”

“Oh, my stars!” The Mandalorian squeals. The helmet is removed by purple hands, and a humanoid species stares in awe. “I’ve always wanted to meet a Mandalorian. I- I do this character because I just love your culture so much.”

Blinking behind his helm, Din confirms what he's already becoming sure of, “That armor you wear - it is not real beskar.”

“What? This stuff?” The actor scoffs. “This is expensive paint and cheap wetboard.” He stands up, advancing unwisely on the real Mandalorian. “Can I ask you some questions? I’ve got a real opportunity here to elevate my perfor-”

Din backs out of the room in a single, fluid motion, punching the button for the door.

He sighs.

***

A blaster shot turns the corner of the building Din had just walked past into dust and debris. He spins, drawing his own blaster, expecting to see the Empire itself. Instead, a young human bounty hunter stands there, nervously fumbling with her jammed blaster. The Mandalorian rushes her, pinning her by the collarbone against the alley wall.

"Bounty?”

Terrified, she nods and whispers, “Yes.”

"Who contracted it?"

She wheezes from under Din’s forearm, “Don't know. It's open Rim-wide for now. Just told to kill you and the girl.”

Under his helm, Din’s brow pinches. “The girl?”

The wide-eyed woman shrugs, again in the dark. If this inexperienced bounty hunter managed to track him down already, it's likely another has found you. Din releases the woman roughly and rockets up into the sky.

_______________________________

The sights and sounds of the beach are incredible. The late-daylight is deliciously warm as it touches your skin through the holes in your clothing. You sit on the top step of the tiered beach area, staring out at the water as you try to come up with a plan of action. Having slept on a lounge chair last night, you’re nearly grateful for the decades of poor lodging training your body.

The sky is hazy, but the flash of sunlight glinting off of something tiny flying far above has you twisting your head and squinting. Unable to make out the object, you return your attention to the ocean and ignore it.

From behind you, a voice calls your name and you automatically turn.

As you stare down the barrel of the blaster pointed at you, you remember no one should know your name here.

"Let's go," the bounty hunter tells you.

It's a woman with red skin and long, blue, braided hair. Etches in her cheeks make her bone structure look even sharper.

You frown. What you’d told the Mandalorian had already been proven correct. You weren't able to run.

Resignedly standing to your feet, you take a step, but go stumbling forward as the woman kicks your back.

Your second foreign emotion of the last twenty-four hours sparks in your chest, glowing as hot as the sun above.

"Hey! I was going," you glare.

"Move faster, scum," she orders.

You continue walking, your eyes scanning for something, anything, to get you out of this.

Ahead on the right is a large crowd of vendors and their customers. If you can duck through them, maybe you can lose the blue-haired madwoman behind you.

A cold, circular shape presses between your shoulder blades as you march, and your bravery starts to fail. If you make a single wrong move, you'll be shot before you even get to the crowd.

Just do it - better to die now than live as a slave.

The crowd swells as a school trip pours out from a nearby museum. Your confidence rises at the sight of the increasingly busy, confusing horde.

Closer. So kriffing close.

The female bounty hunter cries out suddenly as a blaster shot scalds her arm. She defensively spins, kicking out powerfully behind her.

A large species you're unfamiliar with, tall and teal, is thrown sideways with the force of the kick. The competing bounty hunter recovers into a crouch and shoots at your captor, hitting her in the chest.

With a violent exhale, she falls. Too busy sprinting into the crowd, you do not hear her final, pathetic breath.

Weaving, keeping ducked and hidden, you whisper a constant stream of 'excuse me.' You don't want to push anyone, knowing a reaction from an offended beach-goer could give away your position.

The unblinking bounty hunter, your newest enemy, stands tall above much of the crowd, and it doesn't take him long to spot your trail.

Thundering forward, happily shoving people you had so politely passed, he roars. Fear ices your stomach.

The sound of a sputtering jetpack drowns out the noise of the people. Never breaking stride, you search for the source of another bounty hunter.

I know I’m a runaway slave who assaulted her master before turning him into a carbonsicle but, banthashit, is the price on my head really that high?

The massive hunter gains on you, and just as you clear the other side of the crowd, you gasp, pained, when he snatches your hair. You whirl, packing all of your strength into your right fist. Your blow lands on the creature’s lower jaw, which seems to be two pink tubes, and it wails grotesquely.

The grip on your hair loosens and you rip away, but the much larger creature lunges for you again. It pulls you upward by your shirt this time, and you scream. Kicking out, your foot knocks a breath from the ugly bounty hunter, but it does not release you.

Staring at you with shallow black eyes, it speaks in a language you don’t understand, but the intonation is clearly a question.

Gasping, you boldly say, “Let go of me and I’ll tell you.”

The creature seems to understand Basic because his three-fingered hand leaves your shirt.

Before you get a chance to make up a lie, the hulking bounty hunter vanishes in a flash of silver. Your head snaps in the direction of travel, and a trail of exhaust follows.

A hundred yards away, the jetpack flares out and the two fall to the ground in a tumble of fighting. A strangled laugh exits your mouth.

From bigger fish to bigger fish. Eventually the biggest fish would win and come after you.

The sound of the ugly creature roaring ends abruptly with a choked grunt. You push your legs hard as you run. The doorway to a cantina catches your eye as an intoxicated human stumbles out, and you rush past him.

Inside the dark, clamorous, smoky business, you slide into the booth furthest from the door, hoping that neither hunter saw you duck in. Panting heavily, you tell the droid waitress you’d like a bit of spotchka. You’ve never had it, but you’ve seen how relaxed and brave it makes people and that sounds wonderful right about now.

The circular cantina door slides open and the silhouette of a tall, broad Mandalorian is outlined by the glaring sun. You can’t tell what color or condition his armor is in, but your stomach clenches all the same. It had been an entire revolution of the planet since your Mandalorian had left, so it can't be him.

Wonder if he found his friend, you think about his ten-thousand-credit question for the Hutt. Must’ve been quite a reunion if it was worth that much.

Shrinking back against the wall of your booth, you shift completely out of sight and pray to whatever Ancient is listening that the stories about their helmets’ capabilities are exaggerations.

The droid waitress sets your pretty blue drink on the table without comment, for which you’re grateful. You don’t think your voice works.

Clinking metal is audible despite the volume of the rowdy bar. The sound gradually grows louder as he approaches your booth.

“What are you doing?” The Mandalorian has his hands on his hips, and though you cannot see his face, you’re certain he looks like a disapproving parent.

“I- what?” You squeak, completely confused by his question. And why he's here.

He moves to sit down across from you, and your nerves flare.

“Why are you still here?” He asks the same question you want to ask him.

“Where was I supposed to go? I have no credits.”

“There is work available on this planet.”

You pause, unhappy to give away just how out of your depth you are, “You mean paid employment? I’m not familiar with the process."

The Mandalorian doesn’t speak, he simply stares at you until you break your stare first.

Looking down at the grimy table, you trace a piece of graffiti with your finger and whisper, “Thank you.”

Mando shifts his head in askance.

“For saving me from the slave hunter.”

“He wasn’t a slave hunter.” Mando’s helmet tips down to where the bright blue liquid sits on the table. “You going to drink that?”

You shake your head, too self-conscious now.

“Good.”

He slides out from the booth and motions for you to walk ahead of him.

________________________________

Standing in the bay of the Mandalorian’s ship once more, you engage in a staring contest with the little green baby as it sits on the floor. Its ears move like he’s listening to Mando speak on his holocall above in the cockpit, but its eyes remain on you.

You’ve always liked children. While they could be blunt, they were kind to you and other slaves because they hadn’t yet learned any differently.

“How old are you?” You ask softly.

In your experience, children prefer to be spoken to as one would an adult, so you refrain from the baby-voice that springs to the surface when you look at the adorable infant.

He tilts his ears toward you.

“You’re pretty cute." The baby coos, then babbles once.

“You really are cute. And you seem highly intelligent. Have you been with the Mandalorian long? He seems to pick up strays easily,” you smile warmly.

The child awkwardly gets to its feet, toddling toward you. Remembering how quickly Mando had taken the child away when it last interacted with you, you slowly move backward toward the ladder. You don’t know if it's dangerous. Maybe the cuteness is a front.

A gurgling noise, as if it’s trying to tell you something, breaks from its little mouth. He raises his hand, pointing, and you whirl.

The Mandalorian is but a few feet away, watching.

How the kark did he get down the ladder so quietly?

“I’m sorry,” you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.

Mando strides around you and crouches to pick up the baby, “We're leaving this planet. I won't have enough fuel to get across the galaxy, but there is a job a few systems over."

He cradles the child so gently that it makes your heart ache.

Who is this guy?

The child in his arms makes grabby hands at his helmet, so he tenderly sets it back down. Mando heads back toward the cockpit, indicating you should follow.

Up the ladder, sitting once again in the same seat, you keep your eyes on the Mandalorian as he begins the lengthy takeoff procedures.

“The bounty hunter you encountered was not after the slave reward.”

“But she knew my name?”

“I am referring to the Aqualish you punched.”

“Oh.”

The Mandalorian does not immediately continue, focusing on his tasks for several minutes.

“There is a reward out for you,” he flips another switch. “And a bounty.”

“Both? Why both?”

“The bounty is secondary. Dependant on you giving them m-”

A panicked, childish cry echoes from below, and you’re only a moment behind the Mandalorian as he leaps down the hatch to the hold.

You gasp in horror as you see the long-eared, big-eyed baby squished in the crook of another kriffing bounty hunter’s arm. The loading ramp closes slowly behind him. He must’ve jumped in at the last moment.

Mando raises his hands, indicating his desire to negotiate.

“Do not hurt him,” he says. Instead of coming out as a plea, his vocoded words come out as a warning that makes your hair stand on end.

“Din Djarin, you are wanted for the murder of Senator Nesota’s son. I know your reputation, and therefore do not wish to fight. I’ll release your… this," he nods at the green baby, "when you’re in carbonite. There,” the human bounty hunter nods his head at Din’s own carbon freezer.

He killed a Senator’s kid?

The child frowns, his ears drooping, and he focuses hard on the bounty hunter. His little hand curls, and the man’s ruddy face turns purple. His eyes grow red and glassy.

Din reacts quickly, drawing his blaster and firing at the hunter’s face. The man falls with a clattering thunk, and the child rolls away, unmoving.

“No," you cry. "Is he alright?” You start toward the kid, fear in your voice.

“He’s fine,” the Mandalorian replies, holding his palm up for you to stay back. He reverently lifts the unconscious kid. “He’s just asleep.”

The Mandalorian - Din Djarin - murdered an important person’s child. And his own kid just choked someone without using its hands? I didn’t inhale spice, did I?

“You killed a kid?”

Din believes you’re still thinking of the baby in his arms. “I said he’s sleeping.”

“A Senator’s son?”

“Oh. Yes, the Rodian with Salaa.” Din hadn’t known he was the son of a powerful person, but it wouldn’t have mattered.

Relief floods you once again as your evaluation of the Mandalorian’s character remains intact. After seeing the way he cared for the little green one, how could you have believed he would harm any child?

“Okay." You return to the wildest topic, "What just happened with your kid?”

Din sighs. This was getting more dangerous than negotiating with a Tusken. He places the kid in his hammock and shuts the door.

Turning on you, he threatens, “Never speak of him outside this ship.”

“I- I wouldn’t,�� you promise, surprised by the fierceness in his voice.

Din is satisfied. He’d watched you speak to his ward earlier, and the kid seems to like you immensely. But he doesn't solely rely on the kid's opinion.

The experienced, Mandalorian bounty hunter's own character assessment is top-notch, and he finds that he feels strongly about you. He doesn't categorize or identify the specifics, however.

The Mandalorian does not ask for your help in removing the dead bounty hunter from his ship, so you look on in silence as he does it alone. He lowers the landing ramp, drags the body to the edge, and watches it roll down unceremoniously. He turns and stalks past you.

“So, where's that job?”

“The Outer Rim.”

You sigh. “Of course it is.”

__________________________________

The planet blinds you when the Razor Crest launches out of hyperdrive. Brilliantly green, the single sun reflects the vibrant landscape right into your eyes.

Shielding your face, you venture a question. The Mandalorian had not finished explaining.

"Why is there a bounty on me?"

Even through the modulator, you can hear his dry tone: "You aided a bounty hunter in entering the Hutt's hideout through false pretenses which ended in the blasting of a Senator's son."

"Right," you frown, slumping in your seat.

"Don't worry. The bounty on my head is far larger than yours."

You scoff under your breath. So reassuring.

A deep breath, then you postulate, "Is that what the bounty hunter was asking me? About you?"

Din doesn't respond. He didn't hear the Aqualish's question. He was too busy aiming at its body with his own, but his best guess is yes.

"That's the reason you saved me," you mutter, oddly dejected.

A loose end. That's what you are.

Din often - almost constantly, actually - appreciated his helmet for the freedom it gave him to show any emotion at any time. No need to worry about a convincing poker face when no one could see it.

"You could have told them where my ship was."

"Except I thought you'd flown away the day before," you argue, saddened that he thought you would’ve talked.

Of course, he didn't know you, and he had a child to protect, but it still stings.

"Why not just kill me?" You wonder seriously.

You're a liability. Two separate prices on your head? The Mandalorian's easiest solution is obvious. A slave of no importance, no one would put a bounty on his head for your death.

Din Djarin's armor clanks as he spins the chair a quarter-turn toward you and he cocks his head.

"I don't want to die," you read his body language correctly. "But I don't understand you."

The Mandalorian silently returns to his piloting duties as he nears the lush planet. He does his best to shut his thoughts away, but he stumbles over you again and again.

Din had rescued you because he didn’t want to see you harmed for his actions with the Hutt. The idea of protecting himself from prying questions had been an afterthought.

He had flown above the city, looking for your trail. Since you hadn’t moved much, there wasn’t much of a trail to find. Then he spotted the crowd roiling and parting for the violent Aqualish.

When he watched it yank your hair, he felt angry. An emotion he experienced less frequently than many of his friends would believe. Frustration, irritation, sure. But true fury was rare for him.

Not wanting you dead was basic decency, but the anger had been interesting.

On some level, Din knows his emotional responses to you deserve greater scrutiny. But he doesn't have the time nor the energy.

When the Razor Crest lands in a grassy clearing between forest walls, Din rises from his chair and commands, “Stay here. Watch the child.”

“O-okay,” you agree hesitantly. “What do I do when he wakes up?”

The Mandalorian stares, uncomprehending.

“You… you don’t do anything for his… condition?”

“I told you he’s fine.” Din thinks for a moment, and remembers there is actually something you should know: “When he wakes up, he might be hungry. Do not let him eat the metal ball on the thruster.”

With that, he climbs down the ladder, and out of sight.

_________________________________

As the fist flies at you, you subconsciously register that your assailant must be right-handed, because this left hook is much sloppier than the other. Or maybe it's because his left arm is still human.

Ducking, you escape the jab and slam your palm-sized stick into the quarry's metal shins. He doesn’t react except to kick your thigh. You cry out, knowing it will bruise if you survive this.

The blaster you had taken from the Mandalorian’s cache lies just out of reach. The silver gleam is stark against the rich soil of the forest floor.

Enraged, the cyborg quarry leaps at your hunched form, knocking you flat. Surprised by his speed, you forget to keep hold of the heavy branch you use as a weapon.

The growling man rips the stick from your hands and slams it against your throat like a vise, choking you, “Die, wretch.”

You turn your head to the side, providing yourself with a precious moment of air before the quarry shifts to cut that escape route off, too.

Swinging your leg up, you kick him in the back of the head, pushing him forward. You take the opportunity to headbutt him - thankful that his head is still completely human - and he falls sideways. Right next to your blaster.

You snatch up your wooden weapon, but it's too late.

He laughs mechanically as he grabs the blaster, swinging it at you. “Too late, sweetheart.”

Panting, you don't raise your hands. If he's going to kill you, he'll do it when you charge him.

You take a step and the sound of a laserblast ricochets through the trees.

The creature cries out, dropping the weapon, his arm useless at his side. Wires spark from the elbow joint that had been blown away.

"Found you," the Mandalorian says flatly, his blaster pointed at the machine.

The metal man lunges but Din fires again - hitting the quarry in what should be its gut. It doubles over, groaning, then topples, fighting for labored breath.

He must still have lungs underneath, you shudder.

Still trying to catch your own breath, you gasp, "How-"

"Heard the fight. You were supposed to stay on the ship," his voice turns scolding.

Clenching your jaw, you finally find a steady breath. You had stayed on the ship. This piece of space junk had broken inside through the cockpit window.

As you sat in the hold, dutifully watching the kid, the sound of glass shattering alerted you that it was not Din who was back so soon. You had snatched up the baby, touching him for the first time with no concern about his potential dangers, locked him in the little room, and ripped a small blaster from the Razor Crest’s weapons cache.

You crouched at the far end of the hold, against the closed boarding ramp, waiting, uncomfortably far from the child.

A cyborg, more spidery-droid than man, with a human head and fleshy left arm had come skittering down, bypassing the ladder completely. Unwilling to chance a blaster shot going through the baby’s door, you hit the button on the landing ramp and scrambled out.

The forest. It was your home. Your element. If there was any chance you could kill it, to prove to yourself that you could survive this life - it was then and there.

Of course, you hadn't expected the quarry to get your blaster.

"I tried," you breathe as Din binds the still-groaning quarry.

The helmet turns to face you, understanding. "He entered the ship?”

You nod, and Din stands bolt-upright, his head whipping in the direction of the Razor Crest.

“It’s fine,” you assure him pointedly, walking with your hand outstretched toward the worried Mandalorian. You remember your promise not to speak of the child, “Your ship is fine. Knew you'd hate it if he trashed the thing, so I ran out here.”

The Mandalorian visibly relaxes his broad shoulders, and your heart tugs once again.

"Thank you," Din says with hidden feeling.

His sincerity wedges a lump in your throat.

He really loves that little guy.

Din turns and snatches the connector between the binders, pulling the quarry. Its metal feet dig trenches as it tries to stall, but the Mandalorian is far too strong.

Somehow, it's the first time you've truly noticed. Din is extremely strong. Is it the suit?

Can't be. It's just metal and fabric.

The realization might as well be a thunderbolt to your brain. Your assailant must weigh as much as a land speeder, and here your bounty hunter was carting him along like a sack of starfruit.

An unfamiliar feeling, something like hot, sharp sparks shoot through your stomach. Your eyes follow the Mandalorian as he makes his way back to the Razor Crest.

Is this attraction? You’ve never experienced it. Far too busy surviving, wanting someone in that way is a foreign concept to you. You roll your eyes at yourself. Din Djarin, a kriffing Mandalorian bounty hunter is not going to look twice at a slave, and it's best to kill those feelings before they take root.

***

Across the large clearing, at the ship, the bounty hunter waits patiently while the boarding ramp lowers.

“She yours?” The quarry asks curiously, his voice wheezing. "You orbited me like a karking moon, but as soon as I go after her, you come runnin’.” It laughs.

The cyborg doesn't expect a verbal answer; he wants a reaction.

Din turns his head slowly with a cold warning, “I would advise you to stop speaking.”

“I damaged her pretty good for you. Might wanna che-” his taunting words end in a pained grunt when Din slams his fist into the man’s cruel mouth.

Surprised by the sudden violence, you inhale sharply. Din hadn’t knocked the thing unconscious, so what was the point of that?

The Mandalorian hauls the creature up the ramp and shoves him into the carbon freezer.

“Should’ve killed me,” the cyborg threatens with a laugh as he freezes into a solid mass.

Din turns to face you and asks in a low voice, “Are you injured?”

The rush of adrenaline you had been riding on slowly fades, and you remember the only blow you’d received had been the one to the side of your thigh. Your hand falls to it, feeling the area through your tattered pants.

A small amount of blood comes away on your fingers.

“Oh,” you murmur.

You pull up the ripped, baggy material, exposing your entire leg. The skin had split with the force of the blow, but there’s no serious damage and it would heal on its own.

The cyborg must’ve been trying to unnerve us. Or distract the Mandalorian? Maybe he thought Din would check right away, you almost laugh aloud at the ridiculous idea.

Din, for his part, really wishes you would let your pant leg fall. It’s insane, it makes no sense to him. Millions of people walked around in far, far less clothing than you, and Din never reacted like this.

But here you stand before him, slowly checking out the inch-long cut on your mid-thigh, and the Mandalorian can’t tear his eyes away.

When you look up at the helmet of Din Djarin, he fixes his face as though you could actually see the way his lips had parted. You fleetingly, timidly, smile at him and, miraculously, let go of the flowy pant leg.

Released from the spell, Din exhales and makes his way to the child’s room.

“You can use the refresher to clean that, if you’d like.” He does not look at you as he speaks.

“Is the baby okay?”

Din need not answer as the child himself murmurs in happiness at the sight of the two of you. To Din’s abject shock, the kid lifts his hands toward you.

You laugh once, flattered. “Can I?”

Din simply turns sideways so that you can fit between him and the hull wall. You reach for the child and it snuggles into your arms, touching your chin.

A brilliant smile lights your face.

“Are we friends now?” You whisper to him.

The baby babbles a response you’ll take as an affirmative.

“I’ve not asked. What’s his name?” You turn your still-smiling face up to Din.

Again thanking the Mythosaur for his helmet, he stares, stuck on your glowing expression as you cradle his ward. His brown eyes swim with an emotion he’s never felt.

“I don't know.”

Taken aback, you realize that there is a far deeper story here.

Did he steal this baby?

You move on quickly, “What do you call him?”

Din shrugs. “Kid.”

The child makes a cooing sound, then reaches for the Mandalorian. You hand the baby to his stoic guardian, and your smile changes to a satisfied one.

“He looks like he belongs there,” you laugh. Then your eyebrows pull together as you regret the too-comfortable comment.

He’s a bounty hunter, a killer, and he may or may not have stolen this fuzzy, long-eared infant.

And you’re just a runaway slave.

You back up a step, feeling awkward now. “You said I could use the ‘fresher?”

Din simply nods his head in the direction of the tiny facility.

When you've shut the door, Din's body relaxes.

***

But not for long. He didn't account for the sound of your clothes hitting the floor and the sound of the sonics. You are steps away, unclothed, and some wild instinct inside him awakens. Ashamed, he sets the child back in the hammock and climbs up to the cockpit to relieve himself.

_________________________________

The planet is purple. Dark and cloudy, the yellow, green, and blue street lights cast strange shadows. Neon signs of every shade flash from every corner. You've been to thousands of cities like this one. An underworld.

The Mandalorian landed the Razor Crest on the outskirts despite there being a busy spaceport made for that purpose. He transported the carbonite body of the cyborg to the edge of the city where he was met by some anonymous creature in a cloak. He asked no questions.

Din had entrusted you with the care of the child. He directed you and the kid to go on ahead to one of the less-reputable inns. The worse-looking, the better. People were more likely to mind their business.

You've found the perfect one. Din wanted seedy, he was getting the seediest. After all, most of your tasks as a slave had been spent in this environment since your masters hated to be seen in them.

But seedy didn't always mean crumbling and derelict.

Din, having tracked the child's chain code, returns later that night. His eyebrows rise at the size of the room.

"I said find an inconspicuous place to hide. You got the emperor's suite," he places his hands on his hips.

There are technically three rooms: the main living space, complete with couch, table, and a space to prepare food; and two small bedrooms both on the same side of the building.

"It was their only available room. Trust me, this place is as disreputable as they come. And he didn't upcharge," you rise from the couch. "If that was what you were worried about. I… made a deal with the clerk."

Din advances on you, "A deal?" His voice is tight.

"I didn’t involve you. I promise."

The Mandalorian clenches his teeth. Anything involving you, involves him.

"The kid?"

You tilt your chin across the apartment and laugh, "He wanted the room with all the toys.”

Din disappears into the room, and you chuckle at how long the child had been fascinated by the weird sculptures inside.

A low, rasping voice travels from the open door, "Hey, kid. Missed you, too."

Your smile deepens and your heart swells with emotion toward the two of them. Though they are not your family, it's comforting to watch them be one.

The modulated voice sounds again with a short laugh, "She can't hear you. Do you want her?"

You shake your head fondly, the kid had been babbling and reaching for you every time you set him down.

After a significant pause, Din softly admits, "I agree. I like her, too."

Flushing with shame for eavesdropping, you move to the far side of the apartment, to another large window.

Several minutes later, quiet footsteps get louder as Din leaves the child's room and closes the door.

"He tried to lift one of the sculptures," Din scoffs.

You laugh, picturing the child peacefully sleeping after tiring himself with the effort. It wasn't the first time today. Growing serious, you turn to face the Mandalorian.

"He helped me today. Someone grabbed at me and he… did what he does."

Din takes two huge strides toward you. "Did anyone see? What happened?"

"No one saw. It was in a closed alley. I-" you pause in momentary reluctance, then remember who you're talking to. "I took care of it."

You glance at the blaster on the table that Din had given you earlier that morning.

For the first time in a long time, Din's sigh is one of relief instead of irritation.

"Thank you," he says. "Again."

You wave him off, "It was between a scumsucker and the kid. Wasn't exactly hard," you try to make light of it.

Din shakes his head slightly. "I've seen you use a blaster. I'm glad the kid was there," he deadpans.

You exhale in feigned irritation, pleased by his playfulness.

He comes to stand next to you at the open window, and the peaceful silence is companionable.

As the breeze flutters, you shiver noticeably and his torn, rough cape curls into your ankle. The Mandalorian turns his head to you and reads how low your heat signature is.

Din stalks back to the entryway where he had set down a cloth bag. He snatches it up and brings it over to you.

"I hope they are acceptable."

Hands outstretched, you freeze as you realize you're being given a gift. You blink and look up, desperately trying to read a face you know you can't.

"Um, I've never -" you whisper, needing to tell him why you look like you've been struck. "Never had someone give me something."

Inside his beskar armor, Din grimaces. Had he overstepped? It might get even worse when you see how personal the items are.

He releases his hold on the bag and you open it, pulling out a pair of clothes. They're dark blue, and, while somewhat flowy like your current clothes, these do not have holes, stains, nor bad memories associated.

And they are a gift from Din Djarin.

How do you thank him for these? They certainly weren't cheap. The clothing is sturdy but light, beautiful but practical.

Embarrassingly, tears collect in your eyes.

"Oh, wow," you look up at him, panicking. "I can't take these." It was too much.

Din has an excuse in his arsenal.

"Take it as payment for your help with the kid."

You look back down at the material in your hands, rubbing the soft fabric.

"Thank you, Din. Really. I- I don't know how to thank you. You have been so kind to me."

His cheek pulls upward when you say his name for the first time. How sweet it sounds in your mouth.

"You needed them. These," he waves at the shredded scraps on your frame, "are no longer clothes."

You smile timidly, unused to being treated so well. "I'm going to go take them off and burn them."

The Mandalorian taps his vambrace. "I have the means when you're ready."

"Thank you again," you murmur, escaping to the refresher.

Din steps to the center of the room and places a hologram disk on the low table.

While you're busy, he's going to figure out how to get out of this.

***

After an actual shower, real water loosening the knots in your muscles, you exhale in pleasure at the feeling of the clean, well-made clothing on your skin. You feel like a person.

It's similar to seeing hyperspace for the first time. It scares you with how good it feels, knowing you’ve missed out on so much.

You slide open the refresher door to see Din seated on the couch, facing away from you. He sits reclined, his legs spread wide. The Mandalorian hears the door open, but he does not turn.

Stomach growling, you head to the cold storage near the front door. The box of food you'd bought from a vendor sits on the countertop. You unpack it carefully, still in disbelief you can eat whatever you want.

"Are you hungry?" You call to the Mandalorian as you continue to pull items from the box.

"You are no longer a slave. You do not have to serve me." The deep, rough voice sounds from right behind you, and you jump in surprise.

"Dank farrik, you move quietly."

Din reaches around you for one of the fruits you had purchased with his credits. His nearness has your body tensing, but he backs away almost immediately.

"How do you eat with that on?" You wonder, clearly meaning his helmet.

"I don't," he answers, walking into the other bedroom.

***

A week passes in that calm hotel apartment. The child provided more than enough entertainment for you, attempting to lift different objects of his desire at random.

For Din, so used to the child's antics, you are the object of his attention. You brush it off when he stands near you at the window, when he ensures that you have something to eat, and when he silently takes the couch over the comfortable bed.

But you're unable to ignore his touch.

Just after you wake, the dual suns begin to peek around the tall city buildings. Trying not to wake Din on the couch, you tiptoe to the window in the main room, still enthralled with the city view. You’ve seen cities thousands of times throughout your enslavement, often imagining running away to explore. Now that you have the opportunity, you find that you don’t want to go.

Seated on the bare floor, your arms wrapped around your knees as you watch the suns rise, you're wandering down halls of your own thoughts when a voice drifts into your consciousness.

"I will get your bounty lifted."

Turning your head, Din leans forward on the couch, his forearms on his knees.

"If that's what you are concerned about."

You shake your head, "I'm not concerned. I think I'm happy."

You had just come to that conclusion a moment earlier. It's an emotion you don't remember feeling. It's like your lungs are expanding after twenty years of suffocation.

You look back at the city and smile contentedly, "This is the best my life has been."

The admission is extremely personal, but you can’t keep it to yourself. It’s liberating. You weren't ready to fight for your freedom when the Mandalorian came for your master, but you are now.

Din’s footsteps advance on you until he’s standing off to your right. He says nothing.

After an interminable length of time, wondering what he’s doing, you twist and look up at him. His helmet turns toward the window just as you face him.

His hands are folded behind him, but a sliver of something flesh-toned is visible.

Is that his wrist?

Your stomach drops. His bare skin. It looks warm-toned and soft. You close your eyes and turn away, back toward the window.

“I am glad,” Din says.

“About what?” Since it has been several minutes since either of you have spoken, you’re unsure if he’s responding or making a statement.

He simply looks back down at you as if that answers your question.

“We’ll be leaving today,” Din continues to study you, appreciating the way the orange dawn lights your face. “You’ve almost drained me of credits with this palace of a hotel.”

You deny the accusation with a laugh, “I did not. I told you I made a deal.”

“And you have not told me what that deal was,” he says, a hint of a threat in his tone.

Din is on edge about your ‘deal.’ The night before, he had gone down to the reception desk to intimidate the clerk about it, but the employee you’d dealt with hadn’t been there.

“I promised you already - it has nothing to do with you or him,” you motion toward the child’s room. “It is not worth your attention.”

Din scowls. “You are also under my charge, and if you’ve placed yourself in danger, I need to be aware of it.”

Your face snaps up, uselessly trying to make eye contact with him. His charge? Why does your face feel hot at those words?

Finally taking pity on him, you answer, “He was a gambler. I bet him I could win more rounds of sabacc. And I did.”

The Mandalorian is stock-still. That was all? Din had gotten incredibly worked up over what you could possibly owe this mysterious desk clerk, and all you’d done was a bit of hustling?

“Why would you not tell me that right away?”

“I didn’t want to seem like I was bragging,” you frown. Din had tasked you with something and you had wanted to complete it with as little fanfare as possible.

“What other skills have you been hiding?” Din’s tone is half-mocking, half-serious. He knows next to nothing about you despite the monopoly you’ve had on his thoughts.

You side-eye him, unsure of his intention. “I can do basic ship repairs. I can speak four languages. I know how to fight.”

“I am not convinced of that last one.”

“The cyborg caught me on a bad day,” you protest.

"It was fortunate you were not seriously injured. I wouldn't have the credits for this," he nods his head up at the high ceiling.

For the second time, your head turns to scrutinize him, but he’s as impenetrable as ever.

"Why not?"

Din's silver face snaps down to you. "The quarry would not have made it into the carbon freezer."

And as you open your mouth - to say what, you have no idea - a quiet knock raps on the front door.

Spooked, you whirl so that you face the door, still seated.

“It’s alright,” Din’s deep, rough voice soothes.

When he holds out his hand to help you stand, you take it without second thought.

But it wasn’t just a hint of his wrist that you saw - his gloves are completely off. His rough palm slides into your grasp, and his thick fingers close around your hand.

Eyes widening, you audibly gasp.

Din raises you to your feet with no effort, and you wind up far too close to him. Your breath fogs on his chestplate, and your pulse thrums in your ears.

Too-quickly, his thumb rubs your skin, and then he releases your hand. Do you imagine the sigh he makes as he steps away?

Your eyes are glued to his broad form as he retrieves his gloves from the couch, then heads to answer the door.

“Should I -?” You whisper.

“Stay,” he says simply.

It’s unbelievable how one word could affect you. You swallow hard and clasp your hands together in front of you.

***

“As you are well aware, Mandalorian, my esteemed patron was unhappy to hear about her son’s death. However, you are of concern to us for a different reason. If we are able to reward you for your silence regarding where her son was at the time of his unfortunate, accidental death, this business might be put behind us.”

The slimeball flashes her biggest smile at the bounty hunter.

“What am I being paid to be silent about? The Hutt was banished by the Republic due to his slavery connections. Is the Senator afraid of her choice in friends being known?”

The emissary smiles nastily. “Let us say that the Hutt is also on my list of individuals to speak with.”

“I require explicit terms regarding this agreement. I am a Mandalorian, I can assure you of my discretion.”

“Very well. You will not divulge the conversation regarding slavery you overheard between the Senator’s son and Salaa the Hutt, and we shall reward you with twenty-thousand credits to be paid over the course of three months.”

To your horror, Din rises from the couch and nods his head, saying, “I accept your terms.”

“And what about her?” The emissary wrinkles her nose as she indicates you.

“She is a slave,” the Mandalorian says with harsh finality.

You physically shrink next to him. He had insisted you remain while they spoke, but now you’re regretting agreeing to it.

The distaste with which he had uttered the word ‘slave’ makes you feel unclean, unwanted. Tears threaten to spill over, and you keep your head down in a familiar, submissive posture in case they do.

The bounty hunter escorts the Twi’lek emissary to the door while you sit, head bowed, on the couch.

“Senator Nesota will be most appreciative. If you are ever in Coruscant, she would be delighted to have you visit her apartments. They are most grand.” She disapprovingly glances around the hotel room. “I assume you had your slave pick this one.” The emissary briefly places her hand on the Mandalorian’s forearm, “Remember, we are friends now, Din Djarin.”

The helmet saves his entire operation, for Din cannot stop the disgusted scowl that mars his face. This piece of scum uses his name to both threaten and flirt; the difference in his feelings between her saying it and you saying it are blindingly stark.

“I do not have friends. My name is not for your use,” he says evenly as he punches the button for the front door.

The emissary walks away without another word.

When Din closes the door, he turns back to you with a sense of relief for more than one reason.

But something is wrong.

“Do you not feel well?”

You shake your head, “I misunderstood something. That’s all.” Your head remains bowed.

“You will not look at me.”

“I am… embarrassed,” you mutter honestly.

An emotion Din has never experienced or understood, he is at a loss. Instead, he sits across from you and tosses you the recorder.

The small, comm-looking device lands on your lap, and you pick it up, curiously rolling it in your hands. You press the button.

“Very well. You will not divulge the conversation regarding slav-”

You stop the device and look up at Din with renewed hope, “You were lying.”

Din leans forward in his seat, “I was not lying. I gave her my word as a Mandalorian. But you didn’t.”

“That’s a stretch and you know it,” you laugh.

Din shrugs. The moral reasoning works for him.

“I am to send this recording to the Republic, correct? Get the senator removed from office?”

“She will no longer have the funds to pay our bounties. They will be considered void.”

Your smile falters. He had done what he promised.

Din tilts his head, “You’re unhappy about that?”

“It’s not your problem, of course. But I have to deal with the slaver’s reward. And… and I am not sure what I should do, where I should go.”

Really, you’re saddened because there is no longer any reason for you to stay. You wish there was.

The Mandalorian is silent, weighing his choice of words carefully.

"There is room on the Razor Crest. The kid is fond of you. I can pay you for your services to him. And, occasionally, the ship needs repairs - you can assist me with those.”

“Is this that ‘legal employment’ you told me I needed?” You grin. “I would like that very much.”

“You will need to learn how to fight, though,” he shakes his head, his tone teasing. “The kid can’t save you every time.”

____________________________________

You sit on the hold floor, the child in your arms. Having left the inn rather early, the child is still asleep.

Jostling as Din lands the Razor Crest on a new planet, you slowly stand and place the little lump in his hammock and shut the door.

The Mandalorian drops down into the hold, passing you and hitting the button for the boarding ramp. Deciding to trust him, you don't ask where you're being taken.

The answer isn't far. Din stops right at the treeline and hands you the same silver blaster from the previous week's fight with the cyborg.

"You need to learn to use it."

"I've done well with a blaster before," you protest. "I shot Rathos."

"But you didn't shoot the cyborg," you can hear the frown in his deep voice. "Pick a tree."

Nervous to be evaluated by a master of the craft, you hesitate briefly before aiming at a massive trunk a few speeders lengths away.

The plate of his armor brushes against your back as the Mandalorian gingerly sets his heavy hands on your shoulders, straightening them. With his boot, he taps the inside of your foot, indicating you should widen your stance.

You blink rapidly. Your face flushes with warmth. Why is your heart thundering? Can he hear it?

He can.

His own heart rate increases when his helmet's display shows your heat signature rising. Din pushes it further: his leather-covered hands slide down to your waist where he turns you a fraction - completely unnecessarily.

Close enough that, were he unveiled, you could feel his breath, he murmurs, "Fire."

Utterly distracted, you squeeze the trigger as a matter of following his command. The blaster shot continues on through the treetops, singeing leaves.

Din straightens, his hands leaving your body, and he huffs.

"You distracted me," you explain. "I can hit it."

You realign the weapon and inhale deeply, releasing on the exhale just as you would with an arrow.

The tree sizzles as you hit it dead-center.

Spinning to face him triumphantly, the smile freezes on your lips.

One of the suns on this planet has begun to drop behind him, and his large frame casts you in shadow. He still hasn't moved away from you. The way his mask is angled toward you makes you believe he's lost in thought.

"What is it?" You whisper in the tense silence.

Din feels dizzy. You're a natural with a weapon you'd fired all of three times. Your words cudgel his mind. He had distracted you enough to miss a huge karking tree.

"Do it again."

You nod and return to the target. Throwing your mind back to your childhood, you once again hit the tree dead-on.

Weighing the blaster in your hand, you turn back to him and say, "I still prefer wooden weapons. Or at least something resembling a spear."

"Why is that?" His voice is rough, and his hands find a home on his hips.

"That's how I grew up," you answer.

"Okay. Grab one."

Your mouth drops open in confusion, but he finally leaves your personal space and picks up a slender, twigless branch.

"You can't be serious," you sputter a laugh, certain he had just found a sense of humor. "I'm not fighting you."

"Why not?"

"Um. Because I can't."

"You can." He holds the stick out toward you.

You stare at him, watchful, as you curl your fingers around it. Din removes a small, cylindrical object from his utility belt. He pumps it once and it unfolds into a thin cane-like weapon.

"It's been twenty years," you frown. "You're going to win."

But, when that makeshift spear is in your hand, it all rushes back. The key to winning is in gaining ground. Whatever you do, push your opponent back. So, you launch at him first.

Only partially surprised by the speed of the typically-timid girl now coming for his throat, Din manages to duck out of the way just in time. But you whirl to the opposite side he expects, and swing your weapon into his helmet. It clangs, and you stand upright.

"I'm sorry!" You react, fearful both from years of mistreatment and not wanting to hurt Din.

He ignores you, swishing his weapon toward your middle, and you jump backward. Hating that you conceded even that little ground, you quickly drop to a crouch and sweep at his knees like Rathos did to you.

Din rockets upward a few feet, then drops back down on your other side. He swings at you and you parry.

Dancing for several steps, you eventually land a blow to his ribs where the beskar does not cover. Din's modulated groan makes you feel a rush of two separate emotions.

You don't want to hurt him, but that sound ignites a heat between your legs.

Din retaliates, kicking his tipless spear into your chest and shoving you backward. He knows your move, now. You don't like giving up ground, so you'll throw yourself at him, arms raised to strike.

When you do exactly as he predicts, he drops his weapon completely, grabbing you around the waist and spinning. He throws you to the ground, coming down on top of you.

You laugh, exhilarated, "Almost."

Something is jabbing your hip, and when you shift to identify it, Din grunts again. Your eyes shoot to his hidden face.

Under the helmet, Din's brown eyes are blown, pained at how aroused he is. He can't handle much more of this. Your wide eyes and galloping heart match his, but underneath him you look so vulnerable that he feels downright predatory. His stiff length twitches.

Din’s voice is raw, barely contained, "Tell me to stop and I will." His gloved thumbs push your bottoms down.

Speechless, your core pulsing, you nod.

Din unfastens the material around his middle, pulls his desperate cock from the flight suit, and hastily positions himself against you. Your slick coats him as he drags himself through your folds. He groans through the modulator.

“Oh,” you gasp when he eases the tip past your entrance.

Unable to wait a moment longer, Din sheaths himself inside you with a determined grunt, his patch of dark curls mingling with yours.

Your hands try to fist in his flight suit, eyes wide at the incredible feeling of him filling you. His right hand cradles your jaw as he starts to rock his hips, cursing as he does so.

For the first time in his life, Din resents his helmet; both for the separation from your soft skin, and the heightened senses it gives him. How is he supposed to last when he can see your heart racing, hear your quiet cries as though they’re inside his own head?

In an insufficient compromise, he rips off his gloves. His tan skin is calloused and scarred.

“Yes,” you plead.

Din intertwines his fingers on both hands with yours, hypnotized for a precious second by the intimacy. Reverently, you press a kiss to his knuckles. He makes a wild sound deep in his chest, then plunges your hands above your head.

Pushing your chest to his, you signal that he can do anything he wants to you. He collects both your wrists in one hand.

Din rhythmically arcs into you, the sound of his body - soaked from your arousal - striking yours nearly driving you insane. When you’d imagined it before, you wondered if looking into the blank face of his helmet might be off-putting, but you find that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter because it’s him. If anything, it’s erotic to trust him so blindly.

Din is resolved to know your body better than you do. With his free hand, his fingers nimbly massage your clit until you jerk.

“There?” He confirms.

You nod, unable to speak. His heavy, straining cock dragging through you, and his rough fingers replace the output from all other senses.

When he finds the perfect combination, he doesn’t let up until your eyes screw shut and you shake, incoherent underneath him in ecstasy.

“You can say it,” he hoarsely encourages through the modulator.

It was already on your lips, “Din.”

The hand that acted as a manacle releases you as he places his palm on the ground, giving himself as much leverage to bury himself as deep as possible. The toes of Din’s boots dig up clumps of grass as he thrusts into you, the sound of skin slapping skin lost in the breeze. Your legs curl around his waist, pulling him deeper.

He feels the spark at the base of his spine and knows he doesn’t have much strength left. Your fingers twist into the fabric of his flight suit again, clinging to him for all you’re worth.

Din makes the mistake of looking into your lust-filled eyes as you speak.

“Let go,” you whisper tenderly, feeling his tense body begin to fracture.

Din has no choice but to obey you, pumping himself into you with a long, harsh sigh. He works his release inside you, gradually slowing until his arms shake.

He finally drops to the ground beside you, breathing rapidly.

Suddenly shy, you want nothing more than to reach over and take one of his hands, but you lack the confidence. You also don’t know what to say.

Din doesn’t believe there’s anything to say. He had never been so tempted in all his life, and he had not passed the test. A shred less self-control and his helmet might’ve followed the gloves.

In fact, the temptation is still so strong that he begins to plan for its eventuality.

____________________________________

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