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yanara126-writing · 17 days ago

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The Many Meetings of Death and Death (4/5) - Razor Rain

Daud is a wreck. Corvo is a player avatar. Neither of them is happy about it.

Well maybe the Outsider is.

Read here or on Ao3 (2386 words)

Have fun! Comments always welcome! :)

Thomas wakes to pain burning in his mind. Not the pain that is familiar, a stab wound, acid burns or even a bullet, but the agony of yawning emptiness in his soul, the likes of which he's only felt once before. During the Overseer attack.

This is worse. Back then (was it really only two weeks ago?) he was writhing in agony, clinging barely to consciousness as that awful sound set his left hand on fire and drilled itself through his skull, locking off that now cooly familiar connection through the void in his mind. That was better. It hurt horrendously, made even worse by knowing what it meant, that one of their own had betrayed them, but even then there was trust. Daud was coming. All Thomas had to do was live to see it.

Now there is no such trust. Groggy, in pain and his senses dulled Thomas knows well where is. And what the pain in his head means. He keeps his eyes shut, listens to the water rushing outside the window, and imagines, just for a short moment, that it's a few months earlier. That he's simply taken a hit to the head on a mission or an unlucky slip during training and that Montgomery is about to come and patch him up. That Daud will soon transverse right in front of his nose to rip him a new one for such an amateur mistake. That the worst the world can do to him lies a decade in the past next to the decaying corpses of his parents and their co-conspirators. He doesn't succeed.

A broken sob rips itself from his throat that has nothing to do with the pain. With effort he opens his eyes, forcing them to focus, even though he would rather do anything else in the world than face reality. Face the undeniable proof for the gaping hole in his mind where the bond has been for almost half his life. But Daud has trained him better than that. The world doesn't care for what you want, all you can do is face it and force your will onto it. And the rest is Void.

When his eyes finally focus and compensate for the waning light outside, every muscle in his body freezes. He is where expects to be, under the window in Daud's office. (Propped up against the wall rather than lying on the floor, his mask on the ground nudging his hand, which implies things that do not penetrate the pain and fog in his mind.) Not four metres away from him is Daud, slumped over his desk, framed by the setting sun shining through the other window. A whaler sword is stabbed through his back, wedged so deep it's pinning him to the wooden surface. Sightless eyes stare blankly back at Thomas. Blood still trickles slowly down his chin, collecting in a small puddle, soaking into the already waterlogged wood of the desk.

Thomas only doesn't scream because he stops breathing. His fingers are numb against the waterlogged floor. He is no stranger to death, has never been. Not before and certainly not with Daud. He has taken lives himself, in defense and otherwise, and has watched life drain from countless more. He has known for a long time that his own is unlikely to be peaceful and is content with that. But this is wrong in a way that tears into his soul anew, sinks its poisoned teeth into him and rips out his heart into tattered bits. Daud was supposed to be... Not untouchable, not anymore, not since that day six months ago, but unyielding. A rock in the branding, chipped and discoloured but firm against the rising tides.

Thomas has known for a while that something had to break, to give. Has watched Daud pace and skulk around the base with tight shoulders and tighter words, waiting for a reckoning they all knew had to come. Sitting in here, in the quiet office with only the sound of weepers shuffling past beneath the window, his legs aching from the awkward pose and the hole gaping in his soul, Thomas can't help thinking the universe made a mistake. This was never supposed to happen. Daud wasn't- Daud wasn't meant to die before Thomas. Thomas isn't blind, he quietly took Lurk's place for a reason, he is the best scout Daud has trained aside from her, and he is proud of it. He knows Daud meant to die to Attano. The fact that he spared the man when they fished him out of the Wrenhaven already half dead and then had them throw him into a barely secured pit is sign enough on its own, that he then sat here and just waited, refusing to order the Whalers to engage, is the curled signature under the execution order. Thomas is not happy about it, but he knows. He also knows Daud meant to make it an occasion, a challenge, a fight to keep Attano busy and make himself into the barely defeated monster. A hard earned victory for Attano and a cleaner conscience for Daud as he died.

The body staked to the desk has nothing to do with Thomas' master. It's not the Knife of Dunwall who died here, not the terror of the Isles, not Daud the assassin, Daud the man who plucked Thomas from certain death and gave him a weapon to fight all of Dunwall's horrors with, like he's saved so many others of their number. The broken bleeding corpse across from Thomas is not his master. It's a mutilated old man, barely recognisable and yet horrifyingly familiar.

No fight happened here. Daud didn't see it coming. Didn't even have the time to get up from his chair. Attano rammed a sword through him, one of their own, and Daud died alone, pinned to the desk like an insect in an exhibit at the academy, while Thomas lay unconscious on the floor. Morbidly he wonders if the fact that Daud's head is turned towards him means his master was looking at him in his last moments. Watching over Thomas' insensate body for one last time while was bleeding out and drowning in his own blood. He hopes not. He hopes it was over before Daud could notice that he wouldn't be granted his last fight. That Attano took even this from them. Or perhaps Daud was staring over to the window accusingly, demanding to know why Thomas didn't- didn't save him. Didn't do his job as he was trained to, didn't see Attano coming, didn't do what he came here to do and stayed here for even though he was ordered away. Another sob forces itself from Thomas' chest and it sounds like it reverberates through the gaping hole in his head.

Slowly, still dizzy from what was most definitely a modified sleep dart and from the shattered remnants of the bond clouding his perception, he drags himself off the ground. He stumbles the few steps over to Daud's body and crumples again next to his master. His knees hit the floor with a thud and as he stares into dead, glassy eyes staring through him, nothing can hold the flood ripping through him anymore. One sob turns into many and soon he is a mess on the floor, as broken as the corpse before him. The tears flowing from his eyes burn, as if themselves made of the acid Thomas feels shredding his chest. Grief, fear, hatred, all intermingling into one dizzying concoction of emotion that threatens to drown him. He looks to the body, the pool of blood he can now see that collected on the ground beneath, to the tip of the sword that juts from- from the chest into the desk, his breath having turned into wet gasps, as if it was the still warm blood choking him rather than hot tears.

He doesn't know how long he kneels there on the ground, losing all sense of time as he can't look away from the corpse's eyes. They're not accusing, they're not surprised, not pained, they're only empty, like the glass pearl Jordan wears in her empty socket. As if no one had ever been behind them. Until Thomas can't take it anymore and slowly lifts his trembling hand. He tries to be gentle, to be soft, but he doesn't know he can be anymore. It feels less like closing Daud's eyes for the last time, and rather like forcing down a corpse's eyelids. There is nothing gentle in the action, nothing soothing when there is nothing to soothe left, only the desperate need to not have to see anymore.

It's somehow worse after. He stares at his hand, the feeling of dead, cold flesh ingrained in his fingertips. It's not the first body he's touched, not even the first body of someone he's known and loved.

It gets more difficult every time.

But this is wrong in many more ways. It's wrong that Daud is dead, it's wrong that he died sitting, it's wrong that Thomas could reach out and touch him like this. Daud's touches have always been precious things, treasures given in rare moments of intimacy. Receiving the mark as he holds their hand through the burning of the new connection in their mind. A rough shove or yank in missions gone sideways. Fleeting flashes of personal attention that many saw and all keep silent about. He helped Jordan slot in her new eye. He tied off the bandages around Misha's chest. He stitched a cut above Billie's eye. He clasped Thomas' shoulder after his first solo scouting mission. They are given, never taken.

Reaching out and touching him seals reality in a way that nothing else has. Not the gaping ragged hole in his mind, not the sword stabbed clean through the body, not the sight of empty eyes. The feeling of stiff, creased, rapidly cooling skin against his fingers.

The door flies open with a crack, slamming into the wall to reveal Rulfio, no mask to be seen but sword ready in hand. He freezes in the doorway as he takes in the sight. The bang rips something loose in Thomas and he stumbles to his feet, glancing over at Rulfio who still stands by the door, the older Whaler's face caught somewhere between anguish and resignation, shoulders slumped and hands curled into desperate, helpless fists.

Like a spark ignited rage fills Thomas, burning through the grief and terror and dousing it in blessedly mind-numbing hatred and fury. Some Whalers rely on emotion to keep them above water, draw on spite and anger to be able to do their jobs and sleep at night. Thomas has never been one of them, but in that moment he understands. The intoxicating feeling of seething resentment, the burning need for vengeance. It's not just Thomas. It's all of them, all Whalers, their family, that Attano took this from. And perhaps it was deserved. Perhaps it was fair. The death of a killer (how many of their family have died to Attano's hands? He doesn't even know yet.) for the death of an empress. But Thomas learnt long ago, locked behind a basement door and trying to set his own broken fingers, that the world doesn't give people what they deserve. And he refuses to let this be the only time it does.

With a snarl he turns to the body, grips the sword impaling it and yanks. He can feel the blade grind along bone and sinew as he forces it out. The body is jostled with the movement, and Thomas nearly vomits. Eventually the sword comes free, bloodied tip to hilt. Thomas' knuckles go white as he clenches it. Rulfio hasn't moved from the door, watching Thomas with a strange look in his eyes.

Outside someone screams, a heart wrenching roar muffled by a Whalers' mask. Rulfio flinches and turns to the window, his usually tan skin white as a sheet in the setting sun. Thomas chokes on another sob. His head feels fuzzy and nausea rises in his throat, and yet he knows he cannot stop now. There is no stopping anymore. There wasn't for Daud, and Thomas will follow him as he always has.

He drops the sword the desk like it burns his fingers and turns back to the body. His hands shake as he reaches out and slowly slips off Daud's coat. It takes some maneuvering to get it off the stiffening body without having to touch it too much, and Thomas feels like he's suffocating the entire time, like he's committing a terrible sacrilege and the void itself is crushing him for it. Eventually he has it in hand, sticky with not quite dried blood, the back ripped open where the sword stabbed through it. Unable to stop his shivering he can't look up from the ruined coat.

The sound of leather on wood eventually makes Thomas glance back up, to find Rulfio hesitating one stop into the room, that strange look again in his eyes as he fixates on Thomas.

The screaming outside has tapered down into muted sobbing, but the voices have multiplied. He can hear some clambering, Whalers long used to the void in their step trying to figure out how to safely enter the building again without their transversals.

Thoma swallows, his breath shaky, and squares his shoulders. No stopping.

He shrugs off his own blue coat and lays it over Daud like a blanket, like he simply fell asleep over their reports again. Then he takes the ruined red coat, torn and stained as it is, and draws it over his own back. It's uncomfortable, it's too big, it's filthy, and it fans the flames of hatred making his face burn. He takes the sword, red and gleaming, and turns to Rulfio.

Rulfio looks back, emotions racing across face too fast for Thomas to see, if he had anything left to even care about them. He glances between Thomas and the body and the window. Then something seems to click or maybe break and steel fills eyes. He draws himself up, taller than Thomas, his shoulders tight and he nods. No words are needed.

Thomas grips the sword tighter.

It's time for hunting.

#dishonored #fanfiction #writing #graphic descriptions of a corpse #angst #thomas the whaler #daud #the whalers #high chaos #temporary character death #if you've read the other chapters you know what this is about #it's one of the darker ones

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pixiecaps · 6 months ago

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Hello! For the ask game:

Viajante, Parasita da Culpa, Zumbi de Sangue and Síndico Sydney: chose 3 characters and say how do you think they would play Minecraft 🫵 (like.would they really be into building? Would they die every 3 minutes, would they Speedrun the game immediately? Etc)

Viajante - What are moments that make you smile?

i think all the moments between arthur kaiser and joui honestly. the domestic nature between all of them. that love they all held for each other and they were always ALWAYS there for one another. i always think back to you know kaisers attacks and joui & arthur comforting him and kaiser taking a photo of them both so he could see them smile all the time. and man. the canon info of joui going over and cooking for ivette, arthur, and kaiser japanese & brazilian cuisines. and that it was either hit or miss on whether joui burnt it. and you know that bliss between the three and their little family. i think about all of jouis little jealous moments if someone stole away kaiser or arthurs affections. i think about that one photo kaiser drew on. i think about how arthur had lost so much in osnf and he still built up these bonds with people and he gained a new family! and i think about all the shared cigarettes between kaiser & arthur and i think about joui my body is a temple jouki only smoking if its with arthur or kaiser. i think about how kaiser could only look arthur and joui in the eyes. and i think about how they were each others rocks

Parasita da culpa - Which moment or concept would you change if you could, and how?

already answered but i’ll say something else. the change made to transcending after desconjuração. they nerfed my mechanic💔

Zumbi de Sangue - Favourite creature?

hmmmmm you know right now i’d say. its very close between two creatures but the one that takes first place is O Viajante. terrifying. INTENSE. those are scenes that i will never forget because the whole additional aspect the creature brought it was. unforgettable. definitely some of my favorite combats to date ive watched in ordem.

Síndico Sydney - Choose 3 characters and say how do you think they would play Minecraft

omg this is such a fun question

kaiser would be so tryhard when it comes to pvp he’d play on sooo many servers to train he’d love doing shit with strategy and learning how to best kill people. he’d probably have some anonymous reputation online as “Angel of the Night” where no one knows who he is but they all know that when hes there theyre all doomed. he WILL SWEEP. i imagine he has a dark looking skin with like a cloak or something. kinda bbh vibe but all black perhaps

but then when arthur suggests to do a multiplayer world hes so down and its funny cause this sorta infamous pvp god playing with two pretty indifferent players: arthur and joui.

arthur would be decent hes not as good at pvp like kaiser but hes good with the controls and he knows how to play which is the most important part. he takes more of a leadership role with gathering resources and making super efficient farms for the other two to never worry about anything. he’d probably also build their house but its not like hes an incredible builder its just a regular shack but its their regular shack<3 they all have their beds next to each other

which is where we get to joui. he’d be the one begging arthur to collect dyes in their colors like red, green, purple so all their beds are cute and together. he’d be. pretty shit with controls and. everything. he doesnt really understand the game or the point he only agreed to play because he didnt want to miss out on arthur kaiser time. the fomo. so thats how he gets himself involved into this “minecraft” shit. all he does really is follow arthur or kaiser around on their adventures. arthur would probably give joui instructions like collect all the stones with black stuff thts coal and joui would actually do good at that. if hes given a mission he’ll complete it smoothly. kaiser likes trying to train joui but he’s a longgg way from being a pro pvp player like him but kaiser encourages him and tries to make him understand how critting works. joui and kaiser probably go out at night to fight mobs together to get specific resources arthur needs and joui probably dies a couple times but he doesnt back down

they end up having a pretty nice world and maybe with a few months of playing joui can actually hold his ground. kaiser collects flowers to put around their shack and arthur starts wanting to add mods and. theyre happy. they play any free time they have off missions.

ask game

#pix asks aaaa

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noodleblade · 2 years ago

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Birds of a Feather, Part 3/?

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Starscream should not have been surprised to find Laserbeak waiting outside his habsuite the following cycle. Before returning to his hab the night prior, he had directed her to do the same. The one-off instance of berth sharing was not one he was eager to repeat. While Laserbeak had seemed disappointed in this, she had not pressed and left. Starscream hoped she went back to the hab she shared with Soundwave but didn’t want to check the security camera to see if he had been proven wrong.

Whatever the case may be, he awoke to no alerts of sneaking drones in the medbay and an empty habsuite. Empty in more ways than just uninvited guests.

Starscream sneered at his lack of furnishings. In the past, the hab had been cluttered. Skywarp had a horrible knack for collecting random bits and baubles and Thundercracker left half read datapads all about. Not to mention Starscream’s own projects had taken up any available surface. In their passing, the influx of items had stopped and within a couple of vorns, the clutter had dwindled away to the bare and empty room it now was. He had never really thought to pay attention to the current state of his hab but now that he had, his optics couldn’t help but mark all the ways it had lost any sort of life.

It’s just a room , Starscream reminded himself bitterly as he left the hab and nearly ran into Laserbeak.

If she sensed his bitter mood, she didn’t show it, greeting him with a chirp and bob of her helm.

::Recharge well?::

No, he hadn’t. Like the cycle before, it had been fraught with restlessness and nightmares. His processor was eager to dig through old memory files, linking them to the ever-present grief that hung in Laserbeak’s field.

‘That’s just sympathy, Star,’ Thundercracker’s voice echoed in his audials, followed by Skywarp’s teasing laughter, ‘ As if he knows what that is .’

Starscream scrubbed his faceplates, agitation pinching at his transformation seams.

“I’m fine,” he spat out.

Laserbeak whistled unbelieving but let the remark slide all the same. ::We have time to refuel and visit Soundwave before shift start.::

“Is this going to become a habit?”

Laserbeak hovered closer, optics piercing in what Starscream could only imagine as a glare. ::Until Soundwave is back.::

Starscream glared back. “I don’t have time to check on Soundwave every cycle.”

::Actually, you do.::

Following the comm, an attachment was sent showing a timetable, Starscream shift block highlighted and bookended with a refuel and a medbay check in. Starscream raised his optic ridge at this.

“You know there aren’t going to be updates if we keep pestering Knock Out.”

Laserbeak let out an agitated burst of static. ::We need to make sure the medic stays on track.::

Starscream laughed hauntingly. Normally he would agree but, “Knock Out may exhibit bouts of lethargy and boredom but Megatron has marked Soundwave’s recovery efforts as the highest priority. Knock Out can be distracted easily but he’s hardly an idiot. He knows better than to anger our dear leader.”

Laserbeak considered this, rocking slightly in the air as she mulled it over. ::Can we still check on him?::

There’s that ‘we’ again. The line between having Laserbeak’s loyalty and being chained to the drone was a tricky one to navigate with her turbulent emotions. He needed to remain in control, needed to keep firm just as much as he needed to concede to the cassette to get her unconditional trust.

“Fine,” he finally muttered. “But I’m telling you, Knock Out’s not going to have any new information.”

Laserbeak didn’t seem to care, her field bursting with unrestrained gratitude.

Starscream’s shift had gone without incident, mostly putting out fires and working on strategies to make sure their next run-in with the Autobots was a success. Playing clean up for the disaster that had been their last mission only allowed Starscream to analyze where everything went wrong to prevent fatal error from happening again. They couldn’t afford a repeat incident.

His typical meeting with Megatron had been as unproductive and frustrating as ever, however, a new horrible realization had hit about halfway through the meeting as another smashed data pad was thrown, courtesy of the warlord. Without Soundwave’s subtle, quiet presence, there was no barrier between himself and Megatron and no one to put them back on track. What had been a simple issue of mining equipment repairs had derailed them into a screaming match and a sea of broken data pads and overturned chairs.

Starscream was just happy to come out of the meeting unscathed. Even in the midst of his fury, Megatron was more than aware that having two of his High Command out of commission was a death sentence. A silver lining, he supposed, in the dark cloud that was Soundwave’s grave injury.

Agitation still rattled his frame as he stalked out of the main deck, leaving Megatron’s snarling words and his war room far behind. He paid the vehicons no mind as he marched through the wide doors. In his blinded rage, he hadn’t seen the minicon, nearly crashing into the hovering cassette for a second time that day. Thankfully, Laserbeak, much like her host, was far more observant.

The cassette dodged Starscream and hovered over his helm as the seeker glared. Starscream’s optics flared a menacing red that reflected on the mini’s smooth, slick plating.

“What?” he snapped, unable to keep his frustrations of Megatron out of his tone.

Laserbeak made a lazy circle around him. Quiet and evaluating, another fun imitation of Soundwave.

::You seem agitated. Perhaps a flight exercise is in order.::

Starscream stared at the minicon, optic ridges raised. He wouldn’t call it a secret that when stressed and overworked, Starscream liked to vent his frustrations with a quick fly, even if this miserable planet’s atmosphere was grating on his plating at too high an altitude. However, he didn’t think anyone had noticed, much less Laserbeak .

As if sensing his surprise, the cassette landed nimbly on his shoulder pauldron and comm’d, ::It's in your notes.::

“My what ?”

The cassette gave a nervous beep as she realized her error. She extended her wings to fly away but Starscream rested a heavy servo on Laserbeak’s back strut to keep the cassette firmly in place.

“What notes?” Laserbeak was hesitant to respond but after an impatient tap of Starscream’s claws on her frame, she elaborated, ::Soundwave has notes on all mechs, included Starscream.::

It wasn’t surprising nor out of character for Soundwave. Starscream almost wanted to laugh at how Soundwave the action was. It was almost comforting that Soundwave’s presence still lingered on the ship despite his current inoperable status.

However, the very notion that Laserbeak was privy to this information was a little uncomfortable. Soundwave had his own thoughts and Starscream could guess they never quite framed him in the best light if their history had anything to say by it. He couldn’t imagine that as objective as Soundwave wanted to appear that his own opinions didn’t marr the notes he made of each and every mech. Even if the cassette was connected to Soundwave in a bond Starscream only vaguely understood, it unnerved him to know the biased information had seeped into the minicon’s processor.

“Well,” Starscream drawled, “what do my notes say?”

Laserbeak gave another nervous series of beeps. ::Records indicate Commander Starscream’s mood and productivity increase with leisure flights.::

Starscream released Laserbeak and she wasted no time in taking flight to hover just out of reach from Starscream.

“Did you take that directly?”

Laserbeak bobbed her helm in a stiff, nervous nod.

Starscream couldn’t help the smirk that came to his faceplates. Nevermind that Soundwave had recorded him and probably had seen each and every time Starscream had snuck to the flight deck unauthorized. In truth, that was not so much a revelation but a reminder that the Third in Command watched everything and everyone. However, the very confirmation that Soundwave referred to him with his title in his notes was almost enough to dispel any lingering anger towards him. Even in the privacy of his own personal thoughts, Soundwave still was forced to acknowledge Starscream’s superiority.

Oh, how that must grind his gears.

With a little pep in his pede, Starscream headed towards the flightdeck. Laserbeak hesitantly followed behind. Her confusion nudged against Starscream’s smug field, silently asking for a question Starscream thought left better unanswered.

Instead, he redirected. “Following me?”

The confusion drifted off Laserbeak’s field and was replaced with a quieter, subtle admission of honesty. ::I miss flying with Soundwave. You will have to do.::

Starscream, in all his years of knowing Soundwave, had never known the mech to do anything leisurely. Then again, Starscream was beginning to realize there was quite a bit he didn’t know about Megatron’s silent shadow. In the scant few cycles since Soundwave’s fall, Starscream had learned more about the mech than he had in the last millennia they had served together.

“Fine, whatever.” Starscream hardly cared if the minicon wanted to tag along. He wouldn’t admit the idea of not flying alone for a change was almost nice…even if he was only serving as a temporary replacement.

As they reached the flight deck, no one paid them mind. If anything, most of the crew kept their optics glued to their tasks, avoiding even looking in their direction. It suited Starscream all the same as he reached the opening of the deck, the swirl of clouds obscuring the horrid waste of a planet that lay below.

Laserbeak was still hovering beside him, fully intent on following Starscream on this flight. Starscream let his optics drag over the little cassette’s drone form. Not exactly built for speed but if she wanted to try, so be it.

“Keep up,” was all the warning Starscream gave as he let himself fall from the platform, reveling in the rush of air that surrounded him as he dropped. Distantly, he could feel Laserbeak’s distress over the maneuver but it quickly abated as Starscream shifted into his alt and soared upward, past the flight deck and above the Nemesis. At that, the minicon took her cue to follow.

::Fancy flying.:: came Laserbeak’s comm. The attached subglyths were sarcastic in nature but Starscream could feel awe in the edges of her field as Laserbeak caught up.

::Just because your creator does everything minimally and practically, doesn’t mean the rest of us have to subject ourselves to such a dull existence.::

Starscream was surprised to receive laughter back, the minicon in agreement.

::He is too uptight.:: she admitted, the subglyphs both fond and sorrowful. ::He needs a vacation.::

Starscream snorted derisively. ::To suggest such a thing might offline him for real.::

Laserbeak’s laugh echoed as Starscream took a sharp dive down, reveling in the wind streaming off his wings. He hadn’t been able to stretch his wings like this in a while and took the chance greedily; twisting, rolling and spinning in the air as his frustrations melted away.

::Show off.::

Starscream sneered playfully, his mood already lightening, ::Don’t be jealous. It’s unbecoming. Whatever will Soundwave think when he comes back.::

Laserbeak squawked in a loud affronted beep, but it was mostly eaten up by the wind as Starscream turned towards the sky and climbed, thrusters kicking to propel himself up, up, up.

He continued to climb, the Nemesis and Laserbeak falling behind as he passed layer after layer of cloud cover until there was nothing left and Starscream was alone to the universe above him. The atmosphere was thin here, biting and brittle against his frame but Starscream pushed on a few nanokliks more before he cut his thrusters and forced stalled his engine.

For one glorious moment, the universe and all of existence came still, Starscream frozen in place and time as his momentum came to a halt and gravity hadn’t quite kicked in yet. No Megatron, no war, no bitlet biting at his thrusters, no empty holes in ally’s chassis: nothing beyond the floating between flying and falling. It was so rare to find such stillness, such peace. Having it, even for a modicum of time quelled the flurry of stress in his spark.

But as quickly as it came, it was gone; time never truly stopped and pressed forward with unerring persistence. Starscream began to free-fall, the biting atmosphere rushing past him as he gained momentum and speed. He lazily engaged his engine as he turned his nose to the ground, letting gravity do the majority of work for him until the Nemesis came back in his slights. He pulled out of the dive, letting himself glide lazily around the ship. The minicon was quick to come back to his side, field awash in unrestricted delight.

::Very reckless:: though there were no subglyphs of reprimand, rather absolutely wonder.

::Very fun, unfortunately, not very suitable for your frame type.::

If Laserbeak was dejected by this at all, she didn’t show it, simply content to remain close; floating on the updraft from Starscream’s wings and feeding off the unbound ease and tranquility in their intermingled fields.

They made four lazy circles around the Nemesis before Starscream’s HUD notified him his fuel had dipped below 50%. With rations as low as they were, it would be truly a fool’s errand to deplete his levels anymore with no hope of his ration being able to compensate, not when he could be out on the field at a moment’s notice. Laserbeak must have picked up on the subtle shift in the energy and pushed their flight pattern back towards the Nemesis.

In unison, both mechs returned to the flight deck. Starscream shifted to his root form to land on the deck elegantly. Laserbeak hovered beside him, unable to mask her admiration at the display. She circled Starscream in a buzzing sort of excitement that Starscream basked in. It had been a long time since he’d had such an… avid supporter .

:Refuel?:: Laserbeak inquired, probably noting her own lowered fuel levels.

It was about time for their second ration so wordlessly, Starscream led the way to the refuel station.

In what had become routine, Starscream was quick to grab the two rations for himself and Laserbeak and did not linger in the mess hall. He went mostly ignored by the vehicons huddled at the various tables, but conversation once again quieted as he walked by, only to pick up when he was out of hearing range. This time, instead of ignoring it, Laserbeak inquired about it.

::Do you refuel alone every time?::

Whether the minicon intended the sting that came with the question, Starscream didn’t know. He still gritted his denta.

“I have no desire to waste my free time with scrap like them.”

::Not even the grounders.:: The subglyph of disdain was a clear indication of which grounders Laserbeak was referring to. Starscream felt the tension in his frame lighten in amusement at the cassette’s obvious dislike.

“I don’t care much for the brute,” Starscream sneered as he reached his habsuite, keying in the entry to let them in. Laserbeak was barely able to conceal her delight in being granted entry. “But Knock Out has proven to be entertaining at the very least, if not a fine intellectual sparring partner.”

Laserbeak let out a long, drawn out beep which Starscream took as her sarcastic retort.

“One does wonder how you fill so much hatred in such a small frame. Mass displacer? Does Soundwave know he’s fostering such an angry, grudging drone?”

Laserbeak let out the trilling, beeping laugh of hers as Starscream set one of the energon cubes on his desk for Laserbeak. He kept the one for himself in servo, sipping it as the cassette landed softly on the desk.

::Soundwave likes my wit.::

Starscream let out a snort. Every little factoid Laserbeak slipped contradicted the emotionless, stationary mech Starscream had come to associate Soundwave with. Even his own experience could contradict this notion but it was much easier to view Soundwave as a passive bystander to the usual chaos on the Nemesis. If anything, Starscream was already aware of the hints of sass and sarcasm Soundwave exhibited every now and then. To know it went much deeper was like seeing through the cracks of his armored plating. Soundwave prided himself on being unreadable, that much was obvious. To know a few words from his precious cassette could reveal so much was gratifying. To know Starscream was now in the small number of mechs that knew this was even better.

::Are they your friends?::

Starscream blinked, looking down to where Laserbeak was sipping her cube. It took him a moment to realize exactly whom she was referring to, the sudden shift in conversation unexpected. However, Laserbeak’s optics were bright and alert, watching curiously.

Starscream raised an optic ridge at the minicon. It was an innocent, naive question, but Starscream could only picture Soundwave’s little notes and wondered how much value their spymaster could glean from a question like that. As much as he wanted to think of Laserbeak as a pathetic, sniveling whelp, there was no denying she was far more capable than Starscream had previously given credit for and she took after her carrier perhaps a tad too much.

“How many Decepticons do you know that have friends?” he countered coolly.

Laserbeak gave Starscream a long appraising look, clearly not impressed with his deflection of the topic. There was a silent point being made in the cassette’s gaze but Starscream ignored it, turning away to down the rest of his ration in one quick gulp. He barely tasted it as he emptied the cube and tossed it into the nearby receptacle.

With no further comms coming from Laserbeak, the cassette’s attention turned to her own energon. Eager to let the conversation be forgotten, Starscream busied himself. Beside his berth were a stack of datapads he’d been pushing off reading. He probably would have continued to do so but the notion of having to face any more of Laserbeak’s pointed questions soured his tanks. He much rather diligently work than have any more spark to spark conversations for the cycle.

He grabbed the first data pad in the stack: a mining report for Mine Beta. It was a dull read, but Starscream suspected it wouldn’t be long before he hit recharge. Between the long day, the flight, and the general mental exhaustion of having a small shadow, he suspected he’d only get through a few lines, if even.

“See yourself out. We’ll meet tomorrow,” Starscream waved off as he climbed into his berth, optics on the datapad. He trailed over the words, processor barely absorbing them.

His request received no answer but he did hear the hab doors open and close with a soundly click.

There was energon everywhere, soaked into the ground beneath him and coating his plating, seeping into his transformation seams. Warm and sticky and so, so much of it.

A pile of crumpled plating was before him, purple and blue amour in tattered, broken pieces. Dull, cracked red optics staring at nothing and everything. One helm was completely crushed, blue plating cracked down the middle to expose what little remained of a core processor.

Ash rained down from the sky, a maelstrom of fire and destruction swirling around them like the eye of a hurricane. Burnt metal and electric fire sting his olfactory senses, optics slitting to keep themselves clear of the spinning debris. Bodies littered the battlefield, both familiar and not, but his optics were locked on the two pressed together in the center of the crater, sitting in a pool of crumbled earth and energon.

Starscream reached for them. Square blue digits brushing against a shattered glass cockpit-

A nudge against his chin made Starscream’s optic online in an instant.

The dark, stale air of the Nemesis greeted him. His spark had jumped up his intake as his optics darted across the ceiling of his hab. Slowly, his senses came to him in rolling waves.

There was no wasted battlefield. No bodies. No broken mechs. Slowly he raised his servos up, sharp clawed digits trembling before him. Chrome, not blue.

::Oh good, you’re awake.::

Immediately Laserbeak’s helm filled his vision, the cassette firmly planted on his chassis. Tiny red optics stared him down.

“What are you doing here?” Starscream croaked. His vocalizer hissed, as if it had been strained.

::You were experiencing a nightmare. I could feel your EM field outside the doors. You were crying-::

“ How- ” Starscream interrupted with a snarling hiss “-did you get in here?”

::Security override.::

Laserbeak did not remove herself from atop his chassis, rather settling in. Her tiny engine vibrated against him in a move Starscream assumed was supposed to be comforting. He wasn’t sure it achieved that, but it was disarming. At enough to stall his action in sending the cassette flying across the room.

“Soundwave does not outrank me.”

Laserbeak was nonplussed by this. ::Megatron does.::

“ You have Megatron’s access codes?”

::Soundwave has them stored for emergencies.::

Starscream snapped his mouth shut, sinking further into his berth.

In no way did this constitute an emergency. Even if he was in distress, there is no reason for the minicon to go so far for him. Any indignation Starscream had about Laserbeak entering his hab was conflicted by a puzzling feeling coiling around his spark. He couldn’t identify it, the emotion too foreign. He felt… exposed and there was little he could do to build his walls back up. He felt cornered, trapped. The weight of the minicon suddenly felt as if he had a tank pressing him down rather than the tiny drone.

It had just been a nightmare, a glitch in his recharge defrag sequences. It wasn’t a memory nor was it referential to an actual event. He had not been present when Skywarp and Thundercracker offlined. He had been stationed on the bridge, only able to watch their spark indications vanish from radar, their comms go silent. Whatever his processor was trying to work through, Starscream was tired of it using his dead trine as a method to do so. He’d mourned enough.

::You are in distress.:: Laserbeak gently nudged his chin again with her helm. ::Shall I deploy relaxation protocols?::

The line of question swirled around his processor for a solid klik before he croaked out a, “What?”

In lieu of a response, Laserbeak sat up tall on his chassis. Her wings folded in, half transformed between her drone form and the stored cassette mode when she was docked in Soundwave. Faint purple biolights lit up across her frame as soft music echoed in his hab.

Starscream stared, unsure what was even happening. Laserbeak’s field was calm, pressing against Starscream’s like a blanket. The music was foreign to him. He could detect it as Cybertronian in nature but he had never found himself fond of the art. Sensing his curiosity, Laserbeak was all too happy to inform.

::A folk song from Tarn. The beats were later used in the revolution chants, though the lyrics were changed. The roots are ingrained in the working class, the rhythms free flowing and without the standardized formula that was used in the High Theaters of Iacon. The composition changed from player to player, as it was never formally recorded, but all followed roughly the same notes.::

“Why?”

::A lack of formalized education. Music was passed on from mech to mech through audial receptors rather than taught in institutions that specialized in functionality-::

“No,” Starscream interrupted again, but softer, less abrasive. “Why are you playing it?”

::Soundwave often finds comfort in music. I had hoped it would have the same effects for you. I selected a favorite of his. I have a large repertoire to select from if it is not to your taste.::

Starscream let the information sink in, offlining his optics in the process. Soundwave had always favored media based forms. Starscream could briefly remember when he had adapted to that of a music player. It should be no surprise those were rooted in a personal preference for the art form, just as Starscream’s own alt reflected his Vosian roots.

It was another glimpse into Soundwave, perhaps one too personal to dig into further.

::Would you like me to continue playing it?::

It was not…terrible. Actually, Starscream felt the dredge of panic melt away as his processor mapped out the notes into identifiable patterns.

“You can keep playing it.”

Laserbeak chirped in delight, happiness blooming across her field.

::I’ll play my favorite next. It’s from Vos. You may know it.::

Starscream hummed in agreement. Thundercracker had enjoyed music, often playing it when he was working on projects in close proximity to Starscream’s own.

Before he knew it, one melody drifted off and another one quickly took its place. The pattern repeated for several kliks, Laserbeak silently queuing up one after another. Some Starscream felt were familiar, some were completely foreign. There were some in the mix that Starscream suspected might even be Earth based, the instruments completely different than anything he’d heard before.

He kept his optics offline as he felt himself drift off. His processor churned sluggishly, lazy. It brought up the image of Soundwave, stationed stiffly at the central console. Starscream wondered how many times the TIC had been absorbed in his secretive collection of melodies. An absurd thought flickered across his mind of Soundwave dancing , spindle arms and tentacles moving to the beat in strangely fluid motions. The vision dispelled as the next song drifted in, just as slow and soft as the first had been.

Above him, Laserbeak settled against him, still in her half-transformed mode, but her field sleepy, melding in his own. He fell into recharge to the quiet, swaying rhythms, chassis warm and processor empty of any terrors.

#soundstar #starscream #laserbeak #tfp #maccadam #transformers #my fics #birds of a feather

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luvvewan · 3 years ago

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promptsssssss!!!

13: “Just listen to the sound of my voice.” 🥺🙏❤️

Thank you for the prompt, @sanerontheinside ! I went full Obi-whump, so I hope you like it.

—

The healer crouched at the edge of the bunk and took Obi-Wan’s bare feet in his hands.

Obi-Wan cried out, trying to pull away from the touch, twisting in the blankets.

“Caht, nah.” The elderly man, Hagit, said softly. He glanced up at Qui-Gon. “Numo.”

Qui-Gon had garnered only a handful of words in the native tongue, but he didn’t need to know what the healer said; he could see it in his eyes. Pity. For Obi-Wan, yes. But also for him? Fear lodged in his throat.

“Evvi, eh. Uh…here. Boy…numo.” Hagit motioned to Obi-Wan’s foot.

“Keep him still, Master Jedi, please.” Evvi, their young interpreter and Hagit’s grand-niece, translated. “He sees the spine in the left heel.”

Qui-Gon suppressed a shudder and turned away, leaning over his insensate student. Obi-Wan’s face was covered in sweat, eyes half-lidded, lips cracked and quivering. His Learner’s braid had plastered itself to Obi-Wan’s pale neck and chest. Qui-Gon smoothed it carefully between his fingers. “You are doing very well, Padawan. Just stay still. I know it’s difficult but you must not move,” he used a gentle voice better suited for younglings, despite the fact Obi-Wan was twenty three years old and a newly senior apprentice.

He watched Obi-Wan try to look at him, but another wave of pain erupted through their connection in the Force, and his eyes rolled back. Qui-Gon absorbed what he could, wanting to take it all, though even the echoes of Obi-Wan’s agony were enough to make him briefly light-headed.

He noticed Hagit was speaking again, a distant noise. Evvi said something back to him, then Qui-Gon heard several small, hesitant steps. A hand touched his arm.

“I’m sorry, Master Jedi. Removal is very painful and delicate. He does not want the spine to break apart while still in the foot. It will release more poison.” Evvi explained. “Can you hold him down?”

Obi-Wan was more powerful than his small frame would suggest. The pain and delirium made him combative, and when Qui-Gon gripped his arms he thrashed and snarled. He had never seen Obi-Wan, obedient and self-possessed Obi-Wan, untethered this way. Fingernails raked down his forearm, tore at his robe sleeves.

Sedation was not possible. The medical supplies were limited anyway. They were lucky to have Hagit, who was old enough to remember when the stone-fish were plentiful, before a plague wiped them out. Now it was exceedingly rare to catch a stone-fish on the shore, due to both its near-extinction and impressive camouflage. Obi-Wan had accompanied some of the village’s children to the water, or really they had accompanied him, starry-eyed at the presence of an offworlder, a Jedi. He had been stepping along a path of craggy rocks leading to the ocean when his foot landed on a stone-fish, its spiny, algae-crusted body hidden amongst the rocks and sand.

The pain had been immediate. The children had run, screaming, for help. By the time Qui-Gon found him, Obi-Wan was screaming too.

Other villagers had come. Among them was Hagit, helped along by Evvi at his elbow, his grey eyes milky and grave. Obi-Wan was administered a general anti-venom there on the beach, already overwhelmed by the agony that radiated from his foot through his entire body.

Evvi had told Qui-Gon the poison was brutal and quick. It was not always fatal, but it triggered something nearly as cruel: most victims were gripped by an unbearable sense of dread, demanding to be killed before the poison could fully take them.

From his admittedly foggy calculations, it had been close to an hour since Obi-Wan was attacked. Qui-Gon’s stomach lurched. He did not look behind him, where he knew Hagit was hovering at the wound site, arthritic hands shaking, preparing to perform a task of great precision.

“Still, Master Jedi. He must be still.”

He brought the Force to bear down on his Padawan while using his own brute strength to pin Obi-Wan’s wrists back onto the bunk. Obi-Wan whimpered and moaned, whipping his head to the side. Tears streamed freely down his face, snot and sweat dripping from his nose.

“Help!” He kicked his legs, trying to free himself from the healer’s grasp.

Hagit made a sharp noise under his breath, likely a swear.

“Obi-Wan, listen to me! We’re trying to help you!” He barked hoarsely, wiping sweat from his own brow before straddling his Padawan and laying over top of him, using his weight to hold him down. Their heads were pressed together and Obi-Wan wept and keened in his ear.

Qui-Gon’s heart found new ways to break. The Force was overrun with panic and hopelessness. Obi-Wan twitched and fought under him, desperate to get freed. Qui-Gon tried to use a sleep suggestion but his Padawan’s aura was clouded, elusive.

And time was draining away. He imagined the spine lodged in Obi-Wan’s tender heel, the poison seeping into his blood and causing more damage. “Just…breathe with me, Padawan, alright? There is no pain, there is the Force.”

“I can’t.” Obi-Wan whimpered.

He turned his head and pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan’s temple. “Leave it to me, then. Trust in me, young one. Whatever else is happening…it doesn’t matter. Just listen to the sound of my voice.”

He knew it was a risk, to appeal to the dutiful instinct in Obi-Wan that very well might be overridden by poison-fueled anxiety. But what else could he do? Hold his delirious student down with every last bit of strength he possessed, and possibly break his bones in the process?

Obi-Wan bucked against him, sniffling and gasping. “It won’t stop it won’t stop oh gods…”

“Shhh,” Qui-Gon smoothed his damp hair. “You are so far away from that, aren’t you? Safe with me. Safe and very tired. Only you and only me, far away.”

Nerveless fingers clutched at him. “M-Make it stop make it stop I can’t—“

“Of course I will. Hold onto me and keep your legs very still. You can do that, I know you can. Put your arms around me and hold on, as tight as you can.” Qui-Gon blinked back the sweat pouring into his eyes, body vibrating with hope and dread as Obi-Wan slowly obeyed. “That’s it. Now I want you to keep the rest of your body very, very still, Padawan. Do you understand?”

Obi-Wan heaved an exhausted sob, but nodded. His arms gripped around Qui-Gon’s back while his legs gradually relaxed on the bunk.

Hagit murmured to himself. Evvi touched Qui-Gon’s leg.

In the stuffy little room, everyone tacitly understood what would happen next.

Qui-Gon felt Obi-Wan begin to tense. “Far away,” he continued, as if there had been no interruption. “We can go anywhere, can’t we? We’ve been to so many places together.”

“Nuh, Evvi.”

“Uncle says now, Master Jedi.”

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and released his fear to the Force. “Where do you want to go, Obi-Wan? I remember you enjoying Alderaan, with all the beautiful trees. The people there were so kind, weren’t they?” He did his best not to think of the fragile procedure happening inches away. His muscles shook, ready to react if necessary. He knew once Hagit began removing the spine it could not be halted. “I can’t remember…did we visit in the summer or winter?”

Obi-Wan was holding onto him for dear life, strangled moans catching in his throat.

My brave boy, Qui-Gon thought to himself. The pain was unreal. He couldn’t begin to comprehend what it felt like for Obi-Wan.

“Kill me Master Master oh Force I can’t…”

Qui-Gon squeezed him close. He thought of what Evvi had said--the poor victims who begged for death. He had not thought Obi-Wan would reach that point. But even the Force could not insulate the young man from such all-encompassing agony.

Obi-Wan wept openly against Qui-Gon’s neck. “Master, Qui-Gon...it’s moving..what….what is it doing..?”

“Don’t move,” Qui-Gon warned. “Do you want to go to Alderaan? Or someplace else? Someplace warm?”

They had just finished an extended mission on a frigid planet, yet Obi-Wan shook his head. “N-No deserts.”

Qui-Gon chuckled. Obi-Wan sunburned easily, returning from desert assignments with pink cheeks and ears. “Of course not. No, someplace cool enough to sleep out under the stars. Kodasta, perhaps? Remember how the stars seemed so close, as if we could nearly touch them?”

Obi-Wan clutched at the robe on Qui-Gon’s back. “Y-Yes…ahhh…”

“What was the constellation you saw? I can’t remember. It was quite rare, wasn’t it? I’m never any good at that but you spotted it right away. What was it called?”

“…Th-The El…usive Mage.”

“Oh yes. That was it.”

Obi-Wan moaned into Qui-Gon’s shoulder.

Qui-Gon held him steady. The pain was beyond excruciating and Qui-Gon could only feel the edge of it; Obi-Wan had long since given up any attempts at shielding from him. It was a testament to Obi-Wan’s endurance that he had not passed out.

“Nearly done,” Evvi said.

Thank the Force. “You’re doing so well, Padawan,” Qui-Gon praised him quietly. “Keep right here with me, can you see the Mage? Close your eyes and see if it’s there.”

“M-Master…”

“I know. But we are so far away from that, aren’t we? Among the stars on Kodasta. I see them when I close my eyes. Close your eyes and you’ll see them too. No, no, you can’t twitch like that. Squeeze me instead. That’s better. Now look for the Mage with me. Help me see it.”

“Ugh…” Obi-Wan groaned and panted. “Mmmmph…”

Qui-Gon could not let their progress unravel, not now. “Is it there, towards the left?”

For several strained seconds, Obi-Wan made harsh, pained sounds and struggled for breath. Then, finally: “Y-Yes. You have to…un…ah…unfocus your eyes to see. Look for the hat f-first.”

Qui-Gon smiled, blinking back the tears gathering in his eyes. “Ah, of course.”

“It’s out, Master Jedi.”

“I see it now, Obi-Wan. It’s beautiful.”

His Padawan sagged under him, unconscious.

—

Qui-Gon went to the shore and walked along the rock paths, fingers hooked in his belt. The stone-fish had been immediately killed, its remaining spines safely collected and the rest of it burned by a few of the villagers. Evvi told him some of the men searched the beach until dawn, out of caution.

They had not come across a single other stone-fish. Obi-Wan’s foot had apparently found the only specimen on the entire beach.

But then, Obi-Wan had always been blessed with a particular sort of luck.

He came to the place where Obi-Wan was stung. Specks of blood stained the rocks there. His instinct was to throw them into the ocean.

Instead, Qui-Gon left everything as it was, sea spray misting his cheeks as he turned back towards the village.

—

When he returned to the little cottage, Hagit was sitting at a sun-bleached wooden table in the kitchen. The red-tinged spine, still full of venom, was sealed in a plastibag and held loosely in his liver-spotted hands.

Hagit looked up at Qui-Gon. He was quite old, skin sagging and eyes permanently wet.

“Boy…yes.” Hagit nodded firmly at him.

Qui-Gon found it difficult to swallow. He bowed before the healer. “Graz-ta,” he said. Thank you.

—

Obi-Wan was curled up on the bunk. A heavy blanket was wrapped around him, his bandaged foot sticking out from the bottom. Though he had improved since the day before, his face still looked drained of its color.

Qui-Gon glanced around the quiet, dark room. He noticed Obi-Wan’s clothes and boots tucked under a chair. Evvi had done it, probably, but it was still a familiar sight, reminding him of how Obi-Wan tended to neatly fold his tunics, no matter where they found themselves. His heart tightened; he let it pass. He knew he would feel this way after such a close call. Small, tender things about Obi-Wan were going to strike him at odd times—he knew that, unfortunately, from experience.

Like the way he would hold his braid between his fingers when he slept. Qui-Gon could not recall Feemor or Xanatos ever doing that.

He sat on the bunk beside Obi-Wan and listened to the quaint sounds of life beyond the door. He appreciated the borrowed sense of domesticity that came with staying in family houses: home cooking, careworn sheets, a calmness and mildness in the Force. He wished they could stay here until Obi-Wan fully recovered from his ordeal, but the Council had already sent them their next assignment.

Qui-Gon brushed his fingers against Obi-Wan’s forehead. Glassy grey eyes fluttered open.

“Only a slight fever now,” Qui-Gon told him.

Obi-Wan kept his braid laced between his fingers. He looked swallowed up by the thick weave of the blanket and the night shirt that was several sizes too big. Or was it simply the absence of Jedi trappings that made it more obvious that he was young, human and fragile? “Well,” he croaked, voice ruined from prolonged screaming followed by prolonged silence, “I didn’t die.”

Qui-Gon tried to laugh, but it came out as an awkward huff. He touched Obi-Wan’s cheek. “No. You seem very much alive to me.”

Obi-Wan smiled, his eyes already drifting closed. “I didn’t sense it. The…ah…thing.”

“Neither did I,” Qui-Gon admitted, gazing out the window above Obi-Wan’s head. The villagers had searched the beach, but who could search all of the sea? He began to think of other dangers on other worlds, the unnamed masses of threats that awaited Obi-Wan in his life, on their next mission, even tomorrow. “If we could sense everything, our lives would be much easier.”

“Mmmhmmm. Less interesting?”

“I’m slipping. You’re guessing my lessons before I can give them.”

“Mm, but I can…always sense you, Master.” Obi-Wan mumbled. He would be asleep soon.

Qui-Gon leaned forward until their foreheads touched. “May the Force be with you, my Padawan.”

—

They rarely dreamed together, but that night they did, climbing through constellations in the dark sky, safely above the sea.

#star wars #obi-wan kenobi #qui-gon jinn #obi-wan #qui-gon #writing prompts #obi wan and qui gon #obi wan whump #luvewan fanfic

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mcyt-imagines-library · 3 years ago

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I saw you do stuff for mod videos, so can we get an imagine (the list thingy) of c!Jshlatt from Tommy's natural disaster video? Y/N is one of the people in the disasters but he develops feelings for them

I have had such an intense lack of motivation because i'm burnt out from college (or university), but this revived it, thank you, sorry it's so long, i got a bit carried away lol

TW// General descriptions of death and natural disasters

[Listened to All the Things She Said, a cover by Poppy, and Love Like You by Rebecca Sugar while writing this]

God c!Jschlatt/Gn!Reader

Schlatt an uncaring ancient deity who has been around since the conception of the universe, billions of years ago

When he was created in the starlight of the universe's first star, he was lively and full of fascination, helping with the creation of the Milkyway Galaxy's planets

After the creation of earth (something he quite enjoyed), he lovingly crafted every organism, letting his creativity carve new living things to inhabit the planet

As he aged, though, his wonderlust and excitement slowly broke down, the nature of which he attributes to humans

When he first made them, he was excited, finally he could talk to something on the floating rock they named 'Earth'

As time wore on, so did the humans on him

They constantly asked for things, begging, pleading, and even demanding anything from food to good weather to objects

They ripped everything apart, destroying species of animals he worked so hard to make and demolished biomes, all for the sake of 'innovation' and yet they still wanted more

Schlatt figured he spoiled them too much after the initial creation

He was tired and jaded, annoyed with being the creator of all things, nonliving and especially living, so he opted to stop everything, after all, the silence of space was much more preferred than whatever this was

Besides, if they wanted to destroy the Earth so badly, he might as well help speed up the process

He made tornadoes that caused avalanches and hurricanes, forest fires spread as if the trees were covered with gasoline and volcanoes sprouted from mountains

Barely and people were left alive and still he showed no signs of stopping

And then he met you

He was fully unconcerned with you at first, just seeing you as another moving barrier in his quest for all encompassing destruction

He saw you scramble like everyone else, trying to seek shelters from the storms and fires, but also noticed as you protected others

Not just other people though, you herded animals and dug up plants, collecting saplings and seeds in an attempt to preserve what was left of the planet

As he watched this, he actually found himself intrigued by something for the first time in centuries

He'd toss storms your way and still see you continue your little mission to preserve what he created so many years ago

So, he decided to speak to you

Instead of fear, you looked at him with an odd mixture of defiance and intrigue, refusing to take his apples or obviously dangerous TNT contraptions

Instead, you asked him questions

Not just the normal "Why are you doing this?" or "How could you?", but instead you asked him questions about himself

It wasn't just a onetime situation either, you both met multiple times to talk about yourselves, typically sitting on a far up mountain top as that week's newest disaster ripped apart another forest or something similar

After a few months, he finally told you why he was destroying the planet, the real reason why he didn't see a reason to care for it anymore

You learned that what he pretended to be indifference was actually a mess of frustration, anger, and sadness, and you did the only thing you could think of, show him the animals and plants you protected, the ones he designed so long ago

From that moment on, you noticed that the disasters were far less destructive, or at least the ones within your general area were

Upon the realization, you asked Schlatt why, and he lied through his teeth with a simple "You're entertaining"

In reality, it was because you were reigniting his love with life again, along with a new fascination of who you were as an individual, your interests, quirks, and all

Now he wouldn't say he was enamored with you, but the time he spent with you felt like it mattered, even if it was just a small blurb within the grand timeline of it all

And he realized that he might actually care for you a small bit

As a result, he carved a little secretive place for you, one teeming with the fauna and flora you've deemed oh so important to defend

While he wasn't too happy that you allowed other people to exist within the space, he got over it, after all, you wanted them to so how could he say no?

While he knew it was a silly little dream, he thought about telling you that he was interested in you, and wanted to spend the rest of your life with him

Naturally, though, he swallowed it, and let these little bittersweet scenes play out with you for as long as he could

#mcyt imagine #c!jschlatt #c!jschlatt imagines #c!jschlatt x reader #c!jschlatt x you #c!jschlatt x y/n #god!jschlatt #au #i guess??

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afeb · 4 years ago

Text

Chris Evans - Could

Having only met Chris a few hours ago, we oddly hit it off. We realised we had the same interests and opinions, ideas and jokes. We spent most of the day talking mindlessly in the garden as everyone mulled around us, a mix of his friends and family.

Now we were in the kitchen as he grabbed another beer and I hopped onto the counter. “Kids?”

I shook my head. “You?”

“No,” he popped the cap. “Want them though.”

“Me too.” I sighed dreamily.

“How many?”

“As many as I can get.” I chuckled, however Chris didn’t.

His eyes seemed to dance with a look I hadn’t seen yet. “Who would you have them with?”

I shrugged and fiddled with the hem of my dress. “I’m not fussy, I just want children.”

“You’re young, you’ve got plenty of time.” He reassured as he stepped a little closer. “Me? My clock is ticking - fast.”

“You’re thirty-nine, hardly dead.” I scoffed.

He shrugged and stepped closer still, abdomen brushing against my bare knees. “Still though, I need kids asap.”

“Who would you have them with?” I asked.

“A nice girl.” He hummed. “Smart, funny, pretty, articulate.”

“Big boots to fill.” I noted.

“You fill them.”

Silence flowed between us as I furrowed my brows, looking into his eyes. He didn’t say another word, simply tilted his head back and took a long sip of his beer.

“Me?” He nodded. “You’d have kids...with me?”

“Would you not have them with me?” I thought over his question for a moment.

“We met four hours ago.” I stated.

“And?”

“I could be a psycho-murderer who collects cocks I’ve cut off.” He choked a little on his beer. “I don’t, but you wouldn’t know.”

I jumped a little as he parted my thighs, cool beer brushing against my skin as he stepped between them. “We’ve talked for the past four hours with no breaks, no silences, just easy conversation. We’ve told each other about family, ex’s, dreams. I may not know every inch of you, but fuck I want to.”

“How would it even work, having children together?” I warily asked as his hands splayed over my knees.

He placed the bottle down. “Well, we would...you know...”

“Obviously.”

“Then I’d take you out whenever you wanted, go wherever you wanted to,” his hands inched up my thighs. “Touch wherever you asked. Then, you’d move in, or we’d find a new place, we’d decorate and prepare for the baby. We’d fall in love.”

My breath hitched as his palms eased under the skirt of my dress, my hands softly coming to run over his biceps. “How could you be so sure we’d fall in love?”

“Because I think I’ve already started.” My eyes widened. “Not yet, but I feel it blossoming.”

“Chris...” his head moved closer to mine, breath fanning over my lips.

“Everyone’s staying tonight,” he whispered. “You stay too.”

“Is that a question or a demand?” I asked.

“Whatever you want.” He chuckled. “Stay up until everyone is in bed.”

I nodded. “Are you sure?” I couldn’t believe what I was getting myself into.

His lips pressed to mine for a matter of seconds before pulling away. “Absolutely.”

The rest of the day we danced around each other, looking at each other from across the room and softly smiling. Chris’ eyes were transfixed on my stomach sometimes and I was positive he was invisioning me swollen with his baby. I caught my brain day dreaming too, imagining a baby in his arms as he softly cooed the little one to sleep.

One by one, everyone either left or went to their designated rooms. The group around the sofa thinned until it was Chris, me and his brother, Scott.

“I’m gonna hit the hay.” Scott sighed as he stood.

“We won’t be long after.” Chris lied from the sofa, peering at me as I sat on an armchair across from him.

“Night guys.”

“Night.” Chris and I said in unison before we were left alone. We both waited for the click of Scott’s door before Chris spoke.

“Alone at last.” He hummed, shuffling a little on the sofa and spreading his thighs. “Come here, baby.”

I stood with shaky legs and nervously folded my hands, standing in front of him. I squeaked as Chris gripped the backs of my knees and tugged me into his lap, my dress rising up exposing my thighs.

My hands rested on his chest. “Are you sure?”

“Are you?” He cocked a brow.

“Yes.” I whispered, leaning down a little. “Is this mad?”

“Completely.” Chris sighed, hands rounding to pinch my behind. “But fuck, I’ve never wanted someone more.”

His lips trailed over my cheek and jaw, sucking softly on the spot below my ear as I rocked my hips against his. ��Maybe we should get to know each other better,” I gasped. “Things we haven’t said.”

“What’s your favourite book?” He asked as he harshly fisted the flesh on my behind, aiding my rocking.

“Little Women,” I gasped. “What’s your favourite song?”

“Every Breath You Take,” his voice was muffled in my neck. “Favourite piece of jewellery?”

“A ring my Mum got me when I was eighteen.” I whined as he nibbled in the skin of my neck. “Favourite position?”

“Any.” He pulled back and pressed his lips to mine, quickly tracing my lips with his tongue before pushing in to meet mine.

I moaned and threaded my fingers into his hair, softly pulling. Chris groaned deeply before pushing me onto the sofa and climbing on top of me.

“Please.” I whimpered.

“Fuck,” his eyes rolled to the back of his head. “I’m gonna fuck a baby into you.”

His hands hasilty went up my skirt and looped around the band of my underwear and tugged them down. He peered at the plain white knickers.

“I didn’t think I’d be doing this.” I bashfully said.

“Anything on you drives me wild.” He threw haphazardly across the room and focussed back on me. “Gonna be quick baby, okay? I’ll show you what I can do another time.”

I pawed at his chest and peered wide-eyed up at him. “Please.”

He easily pulled himself out and stroked a few times. His tip ran up and down me a few teasing times, testing to see if I’d stop him or recoil. When I simply peered up at him and softly pouted my lips, he eased into me slowly.

His head dropped to rest on mine, eyes boring into mine as he bottomed out. A steady breath ran past his lips and washed over my face.

“Okay?” He asked.

“Yes.” I breathed.

He quickly set to work. His pace was bruising, a man on a mission as he rutted his hips into mine. His hands firstly rested either side of my head as he peered down to where we were connected before he dropped onto his forearms and enclosed around me. His hands stroked over my hair as he closely watched me.

I muled and whined at him, hands skimming over his shoulders, his hair, his cheeks and his lips. His mouth parted as my thumb slipped in. Chris softly sucked the digit as he closed his eyes momentarily and moaned. His teeth skimmed over the skin before I retracted my finger and instead tugged the hair on his head.

His hips easily glided in and out, my legs wrapped around his waist aiding his movements and his thrusts grew more and more sloppy.

“Gonna put a baby in you,” he promised. “Fuck, all day I’ve been thinking of you swollen off my cum.”

“Please, I want your baby.” I whined back.

“Take it,” his groaned as his hips stilled and he emptied into me. “Fucking take it.”

My back arched in pleasure as I screwed my eyes shut and took what he gave me. Chris collapsed on top of me, weight resting on my chest as I looped my arms around his broad shoulders and hugged him right.

“Do you think we made something?” I whispered after a moments silence.

“I hope.” He sighed back, pressing a kiss to my lips. “I think I could love you.”

I smiled. “I think I could love you too.”

#chris #evans #chris evans #chris evans fluff #chris evans angst #chris evans smut #captain america #steve rogers #frank adler #marvel

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petri808 · 3 years ago

Text

For my tumblr bestie @random-rave 🔥⭐️ a Nalu birthday gift of smut 🎁

Before opening her birthday present from Levy, Lucy read the attached card. She was quite curious about its contents ever since she’d been warned to open the gift at home and not at the guild where she’d received it.

‘Follow the instructions on the potion for a kinky fun surprise. I’ll tell you later how I found it. Have fun you two!’

Kinky surprise? Lucy’s brow raised. She opened the box next and pulled out a small green bottle filled with an unknown liquid.

‘Draconian elixir for mages only. Drink contents to transform into a faux dragon slayer. Heightens sense of smell, taste, and touch along with physical features. Magic possessed by the user may be intensified. Effects are temporary and will wear off in 12 hours.’

“Why would Levy think this is kinky?” Lucy wondered aloud until a recent conversation jogged her memory. Right... she’d mentioned the biting thing... Lucy laughed and tucked the bottle into her pocket. This will make for a very kinky surprise indeed! Natsu was due to arrive home the next day from a quick mission a couple towns over from Magnolia. So, that gave Lucy some time to prepare a delectable meal they’ll never forget. ‘Happy birthday to me!’

When Natsu arrived at Lucy’s apartment, he found a note on the dining table that simply read: Meet me at your cottage and tell Happy not to follow. Well, he knew what that meant, but why his cottage? He shrugged it off for the time being and informed the Exceed who had plans of his own anyway with Carla.

It was a curious thing to meet at his cottage now that they’d officially become a couple. He’d moved into her apartment while his home remained a storehouse for his collectibles and her growing book collection. Though the second part of Lucy’s message made more sense since the cottage provided a lot more privacy for their rambunctious encounters.

The closer he got, a brighter bounce in his step took hold as his imagination ran wild. Once they’d made the leap to a romantic relationship, it opened a whole new world to them. It’s true Lucy had to explain a few misunderstandings, like the where human babies actually come from thing, but what came surprisingly naturally was the sex. It was as if his dragon instincts were awakened, and primal urges became his teacher. They were both nervous in their first encounter, but once the pheromones had hit, it was all over.

Wait a minute! Natsu paused a few steps outside of his cottage and put his nose to the air. Lucy’s scent had changed somehow, stronger, headier, with a bit of dragon essence woven in. Was there someone else inside?! Another slayer?! His eyes shifted into a serpentine pupil and a growl escaped his lips as he raced to the door and threw it open. “Lucy, what’s go—!” Natsu stopped dead in his tracks.

“Welcome home, Natsu,” the blonde grinned, flashing the longer fangs the potion had given her.

The scent was coming from Lucy?! “Why do you smell like a slayer?!”

“Well,” she sauntered closer, “Levy found a temporary potion that gives me some slayer features for 12 hours and these,” she tapped a fang, “resulted from that.”

“Anything else?”

Lucy shrugged, “my senses are also heightened, but I’m mostly excited for the fangs because now I get to do some marking of my own.”

So, of all the things they’ve tried out, biting was a kink Lucy never realized she’d like receiving or Natsu in giving. When he bit her the very first time and broke through the skin, they were both washed over with a strange sensation akin to the connection she’d felt when she had written in the END book. But when she’d asked Levy if they’d had a similar experience, the answer was no. Lucy surmised she and Natsu’s bond was much deeper than they’d ever realized.

“Awww,” he pouted, though a smirk stilled curled at edge of his lips. “That’s my thing.”

“Pfft, well too bad.” Lucy grinned and ran a finger down his chest, then trailed it back to his neck. “I’m gonna make sure to put one right,” she presses on his nape, “here, so everyone will see it like you’ve done to me. Property of Lucy.”

“Mmm,” his own fang flashed, “that’s kinda turning me on.”

“Oh, yeah? Then why don’t you show me just how much?”

Natsu swept Lucy off her feet and walked to the back of the cottage where a bed was set up, placing her down while pulling at her clothes and coveting her lips. Hands were everywhere, both sets yanking and stripping away fabric to reveal the flesh beneath like a runaway train with no intention of stopping. Her excitement that afternoon was increased, be it the potion itself or the exhilaration it brought. Though his scent was something she’d come to love, it was toxic this time due to her heightened sense of smell. Oh, how the taste of his smoky saliva made her salivate and her fangs almost tingled! She moaned against their molded mouths in bursts, chasing his tongue with her own and mewling when he sucked the hot flesh.

Her passions and mixed scent served to fuel a new wave of lust in Natsu as well. He would have shredded Lucy’s clothes if he didn’t wanna hear the ending of it. His growls and grunts melded with her purring rumbles like two wild animals in ardent throes to rival a fight for dominance. Natsu wasn’t sure if it was the potions effects, but she was sure straining his muscles tonight to stay in control! He pinned her down momentarily. “I won’t let you win!”

Lucy cocked an eyebrow with a hedonistic grin, “challenge accepted.” Oh, she has no plans to physically dominate him tonight, her goals were simpler, to leave the first and last marks of the evening romps. Of course, Natsu didn’t need to know that. She wrapped her legs around his thick thighs and pulled his pelvis flush against hers, relishing in the heated length pressed against her core. “Now get on with it, dragon.”

“Tch,” he smiled back, “impatient, are we?”

“I feel him throbbing, so don’t act like you ain’t feeling it too.”

That was true. Natsu’s inner dragon wanted nothing more than to fill its mate up and re-stake its claim. If it had its way, Lucy would be spread multiple times every night until she fell asleep with him buried all snug inside. Their mating had truly released an inner beast in Natsu that only by willpower he could control... but not tonight with how fucking amazing she smelled. “Don’t blame me if you can’t walk tomorrow.”

She giggled, “I don’t have any other plans.”

“Well too bad.” Natsu moved in faster than Lucy could react and bit down on his mark. Despite gaining extra abilities, she didn’t have the same kind of control he did.

“Damn yo—” the words cut short from a burst of heat flooding her body and an overwhelming wave of lights dancing behind her eyelids. Heaven help her, the bonding effects were so much stronger! She couldn’t even think straight, just abject lust surging through her body. Lucy ground her hips desperately to rub herself against his cock, smearing the growing slick coating the area. “Burns…” she mewled, but in a delicious way. Things weren’t going to plan!

When he let go of the skin and kissed his way down her chest, Lucy took note that Natsu’s eyes were turning serpentine. The last time she’d seen this change was their first time. “Na…tsu…?” she moaned in a slow questioned tone repeatedly.

He stopped and looked up, unsure why Lucy was trying to get his attention. “Yeah?”

Tit for tat, Lucy caught him off guard and latched her mouth onto the junction of his neck and shoulder causing Natsu to cry out, a moaning growl as her fangs sank deep into the skin. “Fu—ck—” ‘Wow!’ His hips buck uncontrolled as her bite triggered a stronger reaction by his inner dragon. Without waiting for her to pull away, Natsu let his dragon take control and maneuvered his hips, pushing his cock in through her folds to the hilt. His eyes rolled back a second, relishing in her warm embrace. It felt so much better connected like this!

Lucy broke away and head craned back in a deep moan, but Natsu didn’t let up. Seated and grinding, he bit her a second time to ensure a longer euphoria, then coveted her lips, licking at the iron-taste coating them. Was it weird to taste his own blood? Somehow, it only added to the high. No thoughts, just carnal instincts taking control as he fucked her hard two ways. His pelvis pivoting slow, but rough, and his tongue stealing every moan leaching out from Lucy. He usually paid her other body parts some attention, but not this round— not when the only thing that could satiate his dragon was a good fucking.

“This is your fault…” Natsu growled heady and low as his lips teased along her jawline towards Lucy’s neck. He licked at the marks on her skin, already turning an angry red, rocking his hips so hard in an upward angle it lifted her clear from the bed, gaining a small yelp. “This is just round one.” He leaned in nibbling her ear as he spoke. “Don’t be surprised if you end up pregnant after this.”

“Worth… it,” she moaned in response. “But you know what?”

“What?”

Lucy opened her eyes to reveal they’d turned serpentine too. Semi-surprised, Natsu grinned at the change, but was caught off guard again when she suddenly grabbed him, wrapped her legs, and flipped them over in a power roll. His eyes flashed wide in a mix of shock and awe— Hell yeah! Now on top, Lucy locked her heels around his thighs to hold her position and bit down a second time. Natsu responded by grabbing hold of her pelvis. He wasn’t about to lose his stride! If she wanted to bite, let her, because he had something else to finish.

He continued pumping his hips from below, chasing his end. But the position hit upon Lucy’s buttons too, and the more he rocked, the harder it was for her to maintain control over her senses. Something feral inside broke free and she started biting sloppily along his neck and shoulders, wherever she could reach. Being on top was supposed to be a power move for Lucy, but the combination only fueled each other to drive harder and faster towards the inevitable conclusion.

Natsu grunted when he felt the squeeze against his shaft and Lucy’s body enter a spasmodic stiffening. Her moans and hyped-up pheromones made the area surrounding them thick, stifling like breathing in drug-laced air. That was it for him. He quickly rolled them back over and pounded fast and rough, timed with each milking pass until only a dry heave remained.

“Where’d Levy find this stuff again?” Natsu panted out as his body dropped onto Lucy’s in exhaustion.

Still trying to catch her breath too, Lucy giggled. “You like it, huh?”

“Fuck, yeah.” Natsu leaned down and kissed her with a gentle pressure. “Happy birthday baby.”

Lucy returned the kiss with a brightened smile. “Best birthday ever.”

“Oh, it ain’t over yet.”

“Rounds?”

Natsu flashed a cocky grin. “Round—s…”

#nalu #nalu smut #nalu fan fic #nalu fan fiction #lucy heartifilla #natsu dragneel #nalu smutfic.#birthday gift #fairytail

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stressy-enby · 4 years ago

Text

Love Letters

Tenya Iida X Writer!Reader

(This is absolutely a self insert leave me alone)

Requests are open!!

Tenya's morning routine was always the same. He was awoken by his alarm at 6:20 A.M. He went to the bathroom and washed his face. Then he'd get dresses, comb his hair, and go downstairs for breakfast. After he'd eaten, he would brush his teeth, and head to class with his peers.

This system was so ordinary, so methodical, that he almost missed the folded sheet of printer paper on the floor in front of the door.

Probably Mr. Aizawa, he'd thought, stooping to collect the note. His teacher occasionally left notes taped to the class rep's door, asking him to take attendance or start class if Aizawa knew he was going to be late. Still nothing out of the ordinary for Tenya.

When he unfolded the paper, though, he was surprised to see not a message from his teacher, but rather a very sweet note; something that Tenya was not accustomed to getting at all.

I hope it does not alarm you to hear that I adore you. Your unbridled passion for heroics, your eyes; which are oceans of kindness, and your aptitude for helping others. Every little bit of you never once ceases to amaze and enamor me. Though you are a vessel for speed, you choose to walk alongside your friends, instead of tearing off into the future. You build me up and make me feel strong, whether you realize it or not. You make me feel like I'm actually worth something. You keep my head up when I feel as though I'm drowning in a sea of my insecurities.

Perhaps one day I'll have the courage to tell you this in person. For now though, this will suffice.

The letter was not signed off, but rather ended with a red pen sketch of a heart. Tenya's eyes nearly doubled in size. He re read the note several more times to make sure he hadn't imagined the loving words. Who could've possibly written it? He wasn't aware of anyone in his class who harbored these kinds of feelings, much less for him, but he had never been particularly good at reading emotions.

Realizing he was going to be late for breakfast if he dwelled any longer on it, Tenya pocketed the love letter and headed downstairs. The mystery would have to wait until after school. His responsibilities always came first, no matter how often his mind still wandered back to the letter in his pocked, yearning to pull it out and read it yet again, just to make sure he still wasn't dreaming.

. . .

Whoever had written the note was smart, Tenya realized. They had typed it, leaving no room for the possibility that he could recognize the handwriting. The only part that had been done by hand was that little red heart, but a doodle wasn't nearly enough to tell him who the author was.

He turned instead to analyzing the words themselves.They were well chosen, poetic even. The fifty cent words like "unbridled" and "enamored" led him to believe that the author was an experienced writer, or perhaps simply read a lot.

Yaoyorozu was a good contender, she was an eloquent speaker. Kaminari also read a lot, he was good with literature. And there was Tokoyami, who seemed to speak exclusively in poetry. Tenya jotted down his ideas, crafting a short list of his classmates.

"Oh, (L/N) writes a lot," he mused, adding their name to the list. (L/N) actually made a lot of sense.

Oh, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. Perhaps he only read the love letter in (L/N)'s voice being he wanted it to be them.

...or maybe it actually wasn't a bad idea.

(L/N) was always writing. They viewed it as a privilege, a challenge. They leapt at every creative writing assignment they got in English class, and the few stories they had shared were spectacularly inventive and elegantly crafted.

Tenya halted, scanning the message again. It suddenly seemed more and more likely that (L/N) was in fact the author.

He chewed his lip. It was too easy. Too convenient. Too perfect. How could someone he already cared for so deeply send him something like this? It was too good to be true. Besides, it was only one note. How could be possibly-

"What if they write more?" Tenya suddenly said out loud, his train of thought coming to a screeching halt. "I'd have a better line up to analyze. I could also ask Present Mic for the short stories assignments he's grading so I can pass them back. I could probably be able to look over at least a few of them and see if I recognize the writing."

A man on a mission, Tenya resigned himself to waiting until the next day to see if another note appeared, and to ask Present Mic about the stories.

Too anxious and oddly excited, he hardly got any sleep.

. . .

Sure enough the next morning, there was a new note. Tenya all but flew out of bed and scrambled to unfold it.

I find myself caught in a storm of uncertainty all too often. I'm tossed from wave to wave in an ocean of fear. You are my rock. You hold me fast and secure in this ever-changing and frightening world. You are safe. You are my home.

You are my everything.

Tenya unconsciously read the letter in (L/N)'s voice again. He felt his heart beat harder at the thought of them penning these beautiful words.

"You don't know that it's them," he scolded himself, unwillingly placing the new note on his desk next to the old one. He tore himself away from them to retreat into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

The new message did offer one new clue already, though. It used the same ocean metaphor as the first one. It was a comparison the author seemed to favor. Maybe he could find it in their other works.

He had to get his hands on those short story assignments before he lost his damn mind.

. . .

Tenya felt slightly uneasy about telling Present Mic he wanted the stories to pass back, even though he was technically telling the truth. He was eventually going to pass them back. When he was done looking through them.

A lie of omission is still a lie, that annoying voice in his head insisted, but he pretended he couldn't hear it, pushing it down. It wouldn't do any harm, he rationalized. And he had to know.

Tenya flipped through the papers, looking for (L/N)'s first. It was a desperate wish that they were the author of the anonymous notes, but it also seemed to make just enough sense to justify thumbing through their assignment.

There. (L/N) always went above the beyond with creative writing, and the five pages of neatly typed text was a testament to that. It was the longest assignment in the stack by two pages.

Wait.... typed?

It was probably a coincidence. After all, (L/N) hadn't been the only student who'd opted to type their story. Tenya was too convinced already that they had sent him those letters for him to entertain the idea that it was simply just a coincidence.

He skimmed the story quickly before class started. He found himself impressed, not for the first time with (L/N)'s abilities as a writer. Each word was carefully selected to craft perfect sentences and immaculate paragraphs full of feeling and vibrant imagery.

He stopped suddenly a page in as the protagonist compared their anguish to a stormy sea, heavy waves tossing them to and fro.

There it is again.

The sentiments from the letters, which Tenya had all but seared into his brain, echoed that of what he was reading now. The vocabulary, the imagery, the deep feelings evoked by each sentence, and even the fact that it was typed.

It had to be them. It had to be (Y/N). It was just too perfect.

. . .

(Y/N) sat a few seats ahead and to the right of Tenya, so he spent quite a bit of class time staring unabashedly at the back of their head. They were scribbling madly on a sheet of lined paper. Lecture notes? Short story?.... Love letter?

People often say that opposites attract. Tenya was just realizing how true that was as he sat in class, half listening to the lesson, half watching (Y/N). He was all angles and sternness, whereas they were flexible and soft. Perhaps it didn't always show physically on their features, but in their mannerisms, and even in their writing, they were stunning curves, twists and turns. With them, you didn't always know where you were going, but it was an adventure all the same. They were a warm, comforting feeling. They felt like home.

An idea bloomed in Tenya's mind, a delectably wonderful way for him to show (Y/N) that he reciprocated their feelings. Having a difficult time smothering his smile, Tenya fished through his school bag for a sheet of lined paper.

. . .

You frowned thoughtfully at your paper, lips pursed. You tapped your pencil against your dorm room desk as you considered your next words.

This was the hardest, part, but still the most fun. The first draft. You could change whatever wording or dialogue you wanted while you were typing it up, nut you still needed a good base. You still had to carefully choose every word that you wanted to use to move your audience.

Tenya Iida

You grinned giddily just thinking of him. He had given almost no indication these past two days that he'd gotten your letters, but you could tell. His eyes had darted around, scrutinizing everyone they landed on. It had felt a bit like being dissected when his gaze had fallen upon you.

There's no way he knows, you had reasoned, giving him a tight smile in return. He's just trying to sus me out. For all he knows, it could be literally anyone.

You had ridden that wave of shaky confidence in your anonymity, all the way to that moment, where you turned around in your desk chair, intending to grab your phone, only for your eyes to fall upon a folded up piece of paper next to your door.

You felt an anxious lurch in your gut as you shakily picked it up. "If this is Iida telling me to never speak to him again I'm going to cry."

You unfolded the message, fully expected the worst, and praying to whatever god was or wasn't out there that you were wrong and that Iida wasn't completely creeped out and now hated you.

You remind me of the ocean waves you write about so often. You're a crescendo of carefully chosen words, actions, and kind thoughts. You're soft yet strong, never backing down from a fight or a friend in need. Your determination and drive impress me to no ends, and make me want to impress you as well.

You've cast a spell on me for quite some time now, but your hold over me was only strengthened by the heartfelt messages you sent me. I'm beyond happy that you share my feelings.

The letter wasn't signed, but it was written in what was distinctly Iida's penmanship. He had ended his message the same way you had ended yours; with a hand-drawn heart.

"Oh my god," you whispered, paper crinkling as your grip tightened around it. You read it again. Then again. And then again. "Damnit, he's right. I do use the stormy sea metaphor a lot."

Note still clenched in your hand, you sped-walked to Iida's dorm room, heart thundering in your chest. The thought that Iida; sensible, respectful Iida would have feelings for a disaster like you was a little discombobulating to say the least, so you were determined to hear it straight from the horses mouth.

You rapped on his door, foot tapping impatiently. The few seconds it took for Iida to answer dragged on for what felt like an eternity. When he finally did open the door, a pleasantly surprised look crossed his face upon seeing you.

You held up his note. "Hi. Um, so."

Iida chuckled, cheeks reddening. He gestured you in as he stepped back to his desk, where he produced the letters you had sent. "So."

"Y-you're not messing with me, right?" you asked nervously. "'Cause if you are I'm going to kick you."

"Trust me, everything I wrote is 100% true." He smiled earnestly. "And you...?

"I think those letters are the most honest I've ever been about my feelings ever." you admitted, shifting your weight from foot to foot. A wry smile played on the edges of your lips. "I was drafting you another one, but you just had to go and find me out and ruin it."

"You can still give it to me," Iida said hopefully, palming the back of his neck with his hand, flustered.

You laughed a little, your own cheeks warming up. You twisted the hem of your shirt. "Uh, can I hug you?"

"O-of course!"

You wrapped your arms around Iida's torso, resting your head on his chest, listening to the drumming of his heart. He slowly followed suit, snaking his arms around your shoulders. He let out a contented sigh, relaxing into your touch. He was so warm. He was a cozy fire in the dark of winter, a blissful reprise from a cold and harsh world.

You pursed your lips, stifling a snicker. I've gotta write that down.

#bnha #mha #tenya #iida #tenya iida #tenya iida x reader #tenya x reader #iida x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader

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darkmindsotome · 3 years ago

Text

Icy Interrogation

Title: Icy Interrogation

Fandom: Love365 Masquerade Kiss

Pairing: Kazuomi Shido x MC

Word count: 2,998

Warning: NSFW Smut

Written by: darkmindsotome

Summary: A sudden trip with no explanation triggers a game of unmasking that becomes hotter than the weather.

Tagging @voltage-vixen as requested. Prompt #10: Ice Cube Cool Down | Ice Cream Cool Down

---

It was a lazy day and I found myself still temporarily “homeless” and staying at Raven. When everything had happened, Kazuomi stepped up and offered me a job and a roof over my head. I was really grateful to him. Not just with the offer but knowing that I would have lost another part of myself in the line of duty without him.

As ludicrous as it sounded, he was my safe place I could run to and know I would be accepted. The man topping the world's blacklists as the number one bad guy. The man who at any moment could once more be my target. It was his loving arms always reaching out for me, willing to hold me. Me as I am, not who I was for work. Plain old Mc. It was a joy I had never experienced before in any other relationship. He was his own brand of dangerous persuasion and I continue to fall fast and hard for it every time.

Since becoming a couple, he had helped me remember the me who I was before all the lies, aliases and espionage. He comforted me when I didn’t even know I needed it and accepted me no matter how I was acting. The love and kindness of this man was an absolute truth he hid well behind his usual playboy mask. That’s not to say he was an Angel, if anything he was a Devil at times. Still, better the Devil you know right?

Raven in England was different to Raven in New York or Tokyo. It was still a grand luxury hotel but there was something a bit more reserved about it. I giggled imagining how that sat with Mr Dramatic. A man famed the world over for his extravagance and love of all things opulent.

I had been rushed onto a private jet in the early hours of the morning in New York only to wake up in an airfield in England nearly seven hours later. All my repeated requests for my boyfriend to explain why I was here were met with evasive answers. In typical Kazuomi fashion, he would not reveal any secrets, if I wanted to know I would have to uncover the answers myself. Well, game on.

When I was pondering how I would get him to crack the door to the penthouse opened, the man in question strolling inside. The dark green bags in his hand had the words Harrods picked out clearly on them in gold. He vanished into the kitchen and reappeared empty-handed moments later with a big grin on his face.

“Welcome back.” I adjusted myself on the sofa dropping the magazine I had been idly perusing on the coffee table. The ice in my glass clinked against the tumbler where a final mouthful of fruit juice remained waiting to be drunk.

“What no third degree?” Kazuomi practically purred. He was really in a very happy mood which made me even more suspicious. Seriously what was this guy up to?

“What would be the point? You already made it very clear you intend on telling me nothing. I’m not in the habit of wasting my time on a blisteringly hot day.” I shrugged pretending my curiosity was not reaching its limits.

Kazuomi was watching me intently. My little act was no doubt doing nothing to hide anything from him. Damn him and his observational superpowers. It was easy to tell that he was wanting me to bite. Take the bait and play along with his little games. ever since my questioning on the plane he had this playful look in his eyes.

The heat of the summer here was different to that from back home and I was feeling sluggish. It was so hot even the locals had dubbed the weather “unseasonal” and I had found a bit of solace in a light cotton dress.

“Fair point.” He agreed with me smiling that Cheshire cat grin. I was just about to reach for my glass to finish the last of my drink when he took it for himself. I watched as the minted apple juice was drained over his lips and slid down his throat. “Ah, that’s the stuff.”

“Hey!”

“Yes?” He kept hold of the glass in his hand-balancing it on the back of the sofa we were sharing. The look on his face was far from guilty if anything it was yet another taunt to get me to play with him. A silent request I was already planning on fulfilling.

“Oh, you are so going to regret that.”

“Am I? I can’t wait to see what my Goddess has in mind for retribution.”

That cocky grin on his face was as irritating as it was sexy. Well, the game had officially started so I guess now it's time to play. His successful theft of my drink had given me an idea.

I moved over to his side careful to push my breast against his arm and let him see them taking a new form as they pressed into him. He was observant enough to have seen from the second he walked in that I wasn't in a full set of lingerie. Trailing my hand over his leg from his knee to the top of his thigh, I made sure to brush a little too close to his cock. He relaxed back into the sofa. Both arms now stretched out over the seat he looked like the epitome of a lion surveying the savannah.

“Mm don’t tell me my girl has been bored waiting for me?” That same playful happy purr rippled through the room. This time instead of spiking my curiosity it made my heartbeat speed up.

“You left me all alone again without a single word as to when you’d be back and with only glossy magazines to keep me company.” I whined a little as I played the part he wanted. I wasn’t so new at these little games that I would not know my own role.

Reading my target was something that kept me alive on missions. It was what made our games together so much fun. Both of us competing to unmask the other. To get the other to surrender and declare a winner. It was a little amusing that it normally “officially” ended in a draw between us even if Kazuomi was really the winner in all honesty.

“A disastrous oversight on my part. How ever would you like me to make it up to you?” On cue, he made the first play. He was matching my mock whine with fake placation in his voice. Moving his hips so my hand brushed harder where he wanted it to.

“Well, you could tell me why we are here. I thought you had work in New York to attend too.” I pulled my hand away preventing his move and brought it up to his cheek. Brushing my thumb over his lips as I looked into his eyes. He took the pad of my thumb between his lips biting down onto it before answering.

“Somethings are more important and can’t wait.”

“What things?” I tried pressing for a real answer knowing how futile it was. His eyes were locked on me in that stubbornly defiant manner he had where he was not going to give up anything until he was ready.

“All will be revealed in due time.” The grin on his face spread wider. He was certainly enjoying this.

I gave up simply stroking him and decided to straddle him instead. The sight of him trapped under me was always a thrill and not one I always had. Kazuomi was the type to enjoy what he called a perfect view. It only happened for as long as he would allow it before I was usually flipped over and he ended up on top.

Our bedroom activities were always a flurry of motion and give and take. The endless competition between us to come out on top. This kind of contest that carried throughout our relationship and into sex left us both craving more. Right now, I was looking for something he had, the key to the secret emergency trip to England that in his mind couldn’t wait.

My fingers undid his shirt while he remained very calm and collected, his arms still locked over the back of the sofa. The only part of him moving except for the growing bulge under my thighs was his eyes. They were roaming over me taking in every detail and mapping every curve.

After uncovering his broad bare chest, I dipped my hand down and relieved him of his belt. Leaning forward I covered his lips with mine. His tongue lapped at my lower lip before pushing past and ravishing my mouth. The remnants of mint and apple on his tongue dissolved inside me as the heat between us rose.

The arms that had been holding back were wrapping around me tight like a snake. The cold glass in his hand pressed into the dip of my spine causing me to groan into his mouth. If I wasn’t careful, he was going to steal all of my rational thoughts and I would forget about my self-imposed mission.

Reaching behind I took the empty glass from his hand. After breaking out of our lip lock I poured one of the melting ice cubes into my mouth. The devilish smirk on his face was still plastered there. He had never once tried to hide how he loved his kinky little games and I was always willing to play along.

I reached up and pulled a fist full of his reddish-brown hair exposing his neck to me. Dragging the ice in my mouth over that pulsating artery and feeling him moaning under me was like I was charged with an electrical current. His hands settled on my ass rubbing his thumbs over the top of the elastic on my panties through my dress. I pushed his hands away pinning one on either side of him and brought my mouth lower.

The water from the melting ice escaped my lips running across his muscles. That broad chest becoming something of a salacious slip and slide. I tracked the flow to his own waistband and slid my weight from his lap to rest my head over his now rock hard desire.

He hissed as I pulled it free from the confines of his pants exposing enough to do what I planned and no more. The hiss became an almost instant grunt as he bucked his hips against me when I slid the ice along his shaft. Rolling it and my tongue around that throbbing head and back down again. He hated to be in clothes at times like this and I was taking a little satisfaction in his discomfort. Karma is a bitch, isn’t it?

Ice melted now I wrapped my mouth around his cock bobbing my head alternating fast and slow. I was taking full advantage of the chill in my mouth before it had time to fade, seeking peeks at him from between his thighs. Each time I looked up I saw that dark and powerful look waiting for me. The one that didn’t just threaten to eat me up but promised to. I felt my own passions stirring more and was a little thankful when he freed his hands and pulled me off his cock back up into his lap.

“Is that another of your little spy tricks?” He was rushing to free me from my dress. His fingers fumbling with the buttons.

“You know I never sleep with someone when I’m working.” I reminded him of the facts, rolling my hips against him before whispering in his ear. “It’s all me.” He shuddered when I took the lobe of his ear in my mouth and gave it a little tug. Our little game was only just beginning.

“What a bad girl you are.” He chuckled pulling me to him so he could clamp down on my collar bone. A sting of pain later and I had a fresh very visible mark for the world to see. It was childish and as much as I would complain later about it I also loved the idea that he wants me so badly he felt compelled to do it. “I always knew you were my kind of woman.”

His fingers now given up with undoing my dress properly slipped into the gaps between them and tugged hard. The sound of fabric ripping and popped buttons hitting the floor like a rainmaker only served to create the music to our mood. His trousers and my panties were yet more fallen victims to our passions.

Shimming to the edge of the sofa he wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted us both off the seat. I didn’t complain about the dress I knew it would only be met with “I’ll get you a new one” later. What did make me confused was we weren’t moving towards the bedroom at all.

“Mhm… where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” Kazuomi walked into the brightly lit space that was the kitchen. Instead of putting me down on the floor, he sat my ass on the cold hard countertop. The polished marble was beautiful and smooth but damn it was freezing.

He bent down and rummaged around in the freezer for a second before pulling out a small tub with a very familiar logo.

“Is that Lady Borden?”

“A completely new and exclusive flavour. It was released today.” He smiled pulling the paper cap from the carton and then dipping his fingers into the frozen treat. He brought it to my mouth and bit his lips as I slid my tongue over his digits chasing that luxurious creamy delight.

I was so absorbed in not letting the ice cream on his fingers go to waste that it took a few seconds for what he had just said to sink in. Lady Borden was known to produce limited flavours in different countries all over the world. They were exclusive to the place so it was not a massive shock that one would be done in England, but it was released today?

“H-hang on. Are you telling me you put work on hold and flew from one side of the Atlantic to the other JUST to get this?” I snatched the carton from his hand and looked at the pale green container. Luxury Early Grey Tea flavour ice cream. I’d been so into what we were doing I didn’t even taste it.

“Naturally. I know you’re a superfan too and the chance to get my hands on the first tubs of this was too much to pass up.” He took the pot back with one hand and used his other to push me lower onto the marble. “And now I also get to have my favourite dessert on the best plate in the house.”

I felt ridiculous laying on a countertop but I knew that feeling wasn’t going to be in my mind very long. I shivered as he took a scoop of the ice cream out once more on his fingers and drew a line on me from my belly button to my clavicle.

“It’s cold.” I squirmed. Kazuomi dipped down and dragged his tongue along the line he had just painted. Instead of going right to the top, he stopped at my chest. Taking a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before moving to the other side.

“I’ll warm you up.” His breath over my flushed skin was hotter than anything else in the room.

“It’s all sticky.” I arched against him his trail of kisses and gentle nips with his teeth continued as he lazily painted me with more of the ice cream.

“I’ll be sure to clean it all up and lick you nice and clean.” He vanished from my peripheral vision. I felt his heat move away leaving me laid out for all to see. His “plate”.

The ice cream was melting fast running in ticklish rivers over me and one that he had placed low down was working its way towards my core. I didn’t have time to look to see where my bad boy boyfriend had gone. With a slap on the counter from his hands, he pounced, his face buried between my thighs as he pinned me in place with his arms and tongue. All strength in my body vanished as it tried to focus on him and his targeted attacks.

“Ah! Kazuomi!” I wasn’t just arching I was sure I had probably contorted into a pretzel at the intensity of the pleasure he was giving me. His mouth was always so talented and the things he did with his fingers? My mind was getting foggy trying to keep up with him.

I was so close and if history told me anything he wasn’t far behind. I was lost in his eyes when he stood back up. The gleam of my own juices lingering on his lips as he licked them clean. With one hand on my hip and the other dragging one of my legs to his shoulder, he positioned me well enough to tell me what was happening next.

Hanging partly off the edge and stretched out in a way that meant he had full control I saw sparks the second he entered me.

“Ngh… Mc.”

The sounds of us joined together echoed in the bright space of the kitchen. The ice cream on my skin adding a new scent between us as our heat soared higher than the weather outside.

I said before Karma was a bitch. The games we had as we had our unmasking sessions added to that knowledge. Right now though as we both lost ourselves in the moment for the first of many times today I really couldn’t bring myself to be angry with them.

---

#summer of smut #summer of smut content creation challenge

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javistg · 4 years ago

Text

A Second Chance CH 3.

It’s been almost two years since I posted Chapter 2 but Chapter 3 is finally ready!

I want to dedicate this chapter to @mega-aulover, @567inpanem, @katnissdoesnotfollowback, @hutchhitched, @justajjfan, @thegirlfromoverthepond, @booksrockmyface, @albinokittens300, @animekpopxx, @alliswell21, @alwayseverlark, @nightlock-1989, @katnissmeowverdeen, @mandelion82, @norbertsmom, @rosegardeninwinter, @everybirdfellsilent, @thelettersfromnoone, @mrspeetamellark, @taylerwrites, @ameliaodair, @everlark-always, @emilia206 and everyone else who joined this year’s @everlarkficexchange.

Thank you all for bringing inspiration back into my inbox, for reminding me of how fun it is to create something and to share it with this wonderful fandom.

Also, @theeverlarkingmoose this chapter is for you. Your words of encouragement made me want to go back and re-read what I had written. Everything started falling in place after that ❤️

Based on prompt 110: A time travel AU: Katniss from Mockingjay, (any part of the book, it's up to you), winds up back the day before her sister's first reaping. What does she do now that she knows what's coming? Now that she knows how Peeta feels about her, and she knows how desperately she needs him, and what they could share? What on earth could she, or should she, even do/change? And what is she should lose it all again? [submitted by @wingletblackbird For EFE 2019]

To read from the beginning, you can go to AO3 or FF.net

CHAPTER 3.

The tribute train speeds along, silently hovering over the tracks on its way to the Capitol.

Alone in her compartment, Katniss cries. The hope and joy from the previous day are gone. Sorrow and defeat fill her heart as she sits on the bed.

Clutching a bag full of frosted cookies against her chest, she tries to come to terms with the fact that the unthinkable has happened again.

Covering her eyes from the glaring summer sun, an effervescent Effie Trinket walked onto the stage and pulled Prim's name out of a giant glass bowl.

For the second time in her life, Katniss stepped forward and volunteered to take her sister's place.

The crowd parted to let her through. Prim cried. Gale carried her away.

A silent District 12 saluted their tribute. Haymitch interrupted the proceedings with his drunken antics, and a rattled Effie called out Peeta's name.

After finishing the Treaty of Treason, the mayor prompted the tributes to shake hands.

Sorrow, pain, and an unexpected dash of hope danced in Peeta's eyes as he looked straight at her and gently squeezed her hand. Comforted by the gesture she no longer confused with a nervous spasm, Katniss squeezed back.

The goodbyes at the Justice Building were just as bad as she remembered them.

Katniss had thought it would be easier. She had imagined that knowing she had a real shot at coming back would help her be more convincing, more generous.

She wanted to be kinder to her mother --who had already proven she was strong enough to keep on going while Katniss was away-- and to leave her sister with a sense of certainty, with a bit of hope to cling to.

But, as soon as Prim started crying, Katniss's fears took over, and her resolutions melted as quickly as a blanket of snow.

In the end, history repeated itself, and Katniss used up most of her time going over all the practical stuff Prim and her mother needed to know. Right before the Peacekeepers barged in, the three Everdeen women hugged and promised, once again, that they would try their best.

Once her family left, Mr. Mellark delivered his cookies. The baker was just as quiet this time around, but Katniss didn't mind. Instead of fretting over his intentions, she was grateful for his generosity and kindness.

The door opened again, and Madge came in like a whirlwind, holding out the mockingjay pin and talking about district tokens.

"I'll bring it back," Katniss promised as her friend leaned in to fix the bird to her dress.

Madge kissed her friend's cheek. "I'm counting on that."

Madge had barely left the room when Gale walked in.

His eyes were dark and stormy, but when he opened his arms, she walked straight into them.

Their breakfast that morning hadn't been as pleasant as the one she remembered. Instead of joking around and talking about escaping into the woods, Gale had been surly and quiet.

To Katniss's relief, he hadn't mentioned Peeta or her stroll around the Meadow the previous afternoon. It didn't matter. His contribution to the meal, a day-old tesserae grain roll that could have only come from the Hob, spoke louder than any words ever could.

Gale Hawthorne hadn't been in the mood to stop by the bakery that morning.

"Listen," he said, stepping away from their embrace to look at her face. "Getting a knife should be pretty easy, but you've got to get your hands on a bow. That's your best chance."

Katniss smiled. There he was, her friend, her partner, the man who was willing to put his own feelings aside, like he'd done in Thirteen, to help and support her.

No matter what, Gale had her back. Even if he wasn't thrilled with her right now, he would keep her family safe.

"You know how to kill," Gale insisted as they discussed strategies.

"Not people," she muttered.

"How different can it be, really?" A grim remark uttered in a moment of despair. She had never liked it but, after surviving two arenas, it made her furious.

"It's incredibly different!" Katniss yelled. Anger and dread danced in her veins as she remembered where she was headed to. "I'd be killing a person, Gale! A person! I'd be erasing their thoughts, their dreams, their—,"

"Listen," Gale grabbed her by the shoulders, "Catnip, you can't think that way. Not in the arena. You need to remember, only one comes out, right?"

Only one. The words were oddly familiar. Numb, Katniss nodded.

"Say it,” he pressed.

"They have to have a victor," Katniss whispered. Looking up into Gale's silver eyes, she repeated, "Only one comes out."

"That's it, and you can be the one. You can be the one who comes home, back to Prim, back to your mother. Because that's all that matters, right? They are all that matters."

"Right."

Pulling her back into his arms, Gale lowered his head to her ear and whispered, "You can do this, Katniss. Just… promise me, you won't let anyone distract you."

Anyone. He meant Peeta, of course. But Peeta wasn’t a distraction, he was her mission.

Clinging to his embrace to soak up his warmth, she promised, “I won’t.”

A Peacekeeper walked in.

Always the nonconformist, Gale asked for more time. He was granted none.

"Don't let them starve!" Katniss cried out, panicked, as her friend was escorted out of the room.

"I won't!" Gale vowed. "You know I won't!"

XXXXX

By the time Effie comes to collect her for supper, Katniss's tears have dried up.

Resigned to her fate, Katniss follows her escort through the narrow, rocking corridor into the dining room where Peeta sits, waiting for them.

At the sight of him, Katniss's breath hitches. This is the Peeta she knows best. Capitol clothes, winning smile, and a touch of… heartbreak in his eyes.

That wasn't there earlier, Katniss thinks. What happened? As Peeta's eyes flit away, she suddenly remembers. His mother.

Yes, Mrs. Mellark just told her youngest son that he's not good enough to come back from the arena.

She wants to run to his side, to wrap her arms around him, press a kiss on his forehead, and soothe his pain away.

She wishes with all her heart that she could tell him that the Witch and her bitterness don't matter, but she can't. Instead, she bites her lip, takes the empty chair by his side, and waits for Effie to start giving instructions.

The supper comes in courses. The starter, a thick carrot soup, is followed by a green salad.

Katniss is reaching for the platter with the lamb chops and mashed potatoes when Peeta leans into her side and casually says, "So… when you said you'd be at the back…"

Surprised, Katniss glances back at him. The teasing glint in his eyes brings a smile to her lips. "I guess I meant the front," she says, stabbing a lamb chop with her fork and dropping it on her plate. With a coy shrug, she adds, "I confuse them sometimes."

Peeta's retort is interrupted by Effie's shrill voice. "Oh! Are you two friends?"

Katniss freezes, but Peeta quickly comes to her rescue. "Not really," he says, ladling a dollop of mashed potatoes on his plate, "we go to school together, that's all."

Effie takes this news with a polite nod. Just as they're about to finish the main course, she speaks again. "At least, you two have decent manners," she says. "The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion."

Katniss narrows her eyes. Over the last couple of years, she's come to appreciate Effie, but her comment still disgusts her. So, once again, she makes a point of eating the rest of her meal with her fingers and wiping her hands on the tablecloth when she's done.

Bewildered, Effie straightens up in her chair, pursing her pink lips in shocked disapproval.

Good, Katniss thinks with a satisfied smirk. Things are just as they should be.

XXXXX

Katniss's first day in the Capitol is almost an exact replica of her previous one.

Her prep team scrubs and strips every inch of her body, removing all her hair and leaving her like a plucked bird, ready for roasting.

Later, when Cinna walks into the room, Katniss rolls her hands into tight fists and, somehow, manages to stop herself from lunging into his arms.

XXXXX

The carriage ride around the City Circle is a huge success.

While Portia is busy extinguishing the last of the artificial flames, Katniss reluctantly lets go of Peeta's hand.

"Thanks for keeping hold of me," says Peeta massaging his hand, "I was getting a little shaky there."

"It didn't show," Katniss tells him. "I'm sure no one noticed."

"I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you," he replies, looking boldly into her eyes, "You should wear flames more often. They suit you."

Then, he does it again. He flashes her that smile, the one she knows he saves just for her, genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness.

Warmth rushes through her, and she bites her lip to keep from smiling too widely. She used to feel so vulnerable whenever this happened --like Peeta was in control, and she couldn't trust herself around him-- but she knows better now. Peeta's not trying to manipulate her, he's just paying her a compliment, and he's damned good at it!

No warning bells go off. No thoughts of hidden agendas, or strategies, or games cross Katniss's mind. Only joy and affection propel her as she stands on tiptoe and kisses his cheek, right on his bruise.

XXXXX

When Katniss notices the red-headed Avox at the dinner table later that night, she doesn't even flinch.

With watchful eyes, she follows the girl's movements and tries not to think about Darius —or the way he looked at her the last time they saw each other in that same room.

Taking a bite of her cake, Katniss glances back at Peeta and wonders —just for an instant— if he ever saw what Effie called the "matching set" while Snow kept him captive.

The thought is too painful to even consider, so she stops poking at it and goes back to the conversation around the table.

Later, as she lies in bed looking at images of a slow trickling stream projected on her wall, she silently berates herself for her silence. Her original reaction hadn't really hurt anyone, but it had led to Peeta covering for her and showing her the rooftop garden.

She longs to go there now. It's the only place where she can breathe, and she's sure Peeta's there already, looking down unto the Capitol skyline. But how can she join him when no one in this timeline has shown her the way?

The answer is so simple it makes her laugh. The terrace isn't exactly hidden, and Peeta knows she's an illegal hunter who sneaks under an electrified fence every day. He won't question her if she says she just stumbled upon it while exploring the apartment.

Katniss steps into the cool, windy evening air. Twelve floors down, the Capitol twinkles like a vast field of fireflies. It's a familiar sight by now, but it still fills her with wonder.

Peeta's already there, standing by the railing at the edge of the roof. His eyes widen when he sees her approach.

"How did you find this place?" Katniss asks, trying her best to sound surprised.

"Cinna showed me," Peeta says. "You?"

"I did some exploring."

Katniss reaches his side, and they both turn to look out onto the skyline.

"You can practically see the whole city," Peeta says.

They stand there for a few minutes, enjoying the show of flickering lights, listening to the wind chimes behind them and the noises from the city below.

They're standing so close together that she can feel the warmth radiating off of him. A little closer and I would smell his scent, she thinks, hoping she could wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his shirt.

"A penny for your thoughts," Peeta asks.

Startled out of her reverie, Katniss laughs, "A penny? Is that the going rate in town?"

Peeta shrugs. "I guess. It's just something my grandmother used to say."

She's heard this before, back on their victory tour, but she still asks, "Which grandmother?"

"Grandma Mellark. She had tons of sayings, one for every occasion. She died when I was ten, but I still remember some of them." After a short pause, he asks, "How about you? Do you remember your grandparents?"

"No. I never met them."

Peeta turns towards her. The earnest curiosity dancing in his eyes tugs at her heart. "Never?"

Katniss shakes her head. "I know my mother's parents ran the apothecary up until a few years ago, but we never went there. I might have seen them on the street, but…"

"And on your father's side?"

"They both died before I was born. I don't know much about them, just that they knew a lot about plants and that my grandmother loved music. My dad used to say that she could remember any song after only hearing it once and that she had a beautiful voice."

Peeta's hushed words are almost lost in the din of the wind chimes, but they reach her all the same. "Just like yours."

She's about to contradict him but, when she looks up, her mind goes blank. Peeta's looking back at her with a tenderness and warmth that still haunts her dreams.

“I don’t sing,” she hears herself say.

"But you used to,” Peeta says, “back when we were little.”

It's almost like being back in the cave. Her skin tingles, her heart soars.

Flustered, Katniss asks, "You remember that?"

Peeta looks away. His cheeks turn beet red as he softly admits, "I do."

Her heart's hammering madly against her rib cage now.

For an instant, she thinks he's going to tell her the story again, the one about their first day of school and the teacher asking her to sing; but he does no such thing.

Keeping his eyes on the horizon, Peeta straightens up and pushes himself away from her and the railing.

Disappointed, Katniss turns away.

Deep down, she's also relieved. As much as she wants to regain the closeness she once shared with Peeta, she knows they're not ready yet.

Unlike her, Peeta doesn't know what their future holds. He likes her well enough, but they're training for the Games. He still needs to keep his distance from his district partner.

Satisfied that she's done plenty for one night, Katniss stretches her arms over her head and fakes a yawn. "We should get some rest," she says.

"Yeah. Tomorrow's going to be a big, big, big day!"

Katniss laughs. Peeta's impersonation of their escort has always been pitch-perfect.

They climb the stairs together. When they reach the corridor that leads up to their rooms, Peeta whispers, "Good night, Katniss."

The words wrap around her heart, soothing her like no morphling ever did. She's still savoring them when she whispers back, "Good night, Peeta."

XXXXX

It's a little before ten when Katniss and Peeta step out of the elevator and into the Training Center. The other tributes are already there gathered in a circle around Atala, the head trainer.

As soon as the tall woman starts to talk, Katniss tunes her out. She's heard the little speech twice already. She doesn't need to listen to it again.

Beside her, Peeta lets out a small sigh.

He's frustrated, Katniss thinks. She considers reaching out to squeeze his hand but stops herself, knowing that Peeta probably won’t welcome the gesture right now.

She can’t blame him, not after the morning they've had.

The discussion over their individual skills at breakfast had been slightly less contentious this time around, but not by much.

After mentioning Katniss’s abilities, Peeta had still brought up his mother's hurtful parting words.

Katniss had been less cagey. She had managed to keep the bread incident out of the conversation, but Peeta's comment about the effect she had on people had —once again— raised her hackles. Not because she had felt insulted, lile the first time, but because she’d been reminded of everything she’d lost.

As she saw the old Peeta willing to give his life for her, she couldn’t help but think of the other version of him; the version she had left behind in District 13. That Peeta hated her. He had gone through hell and back to be with her and now he wanted her dead.

Who knows? She bitterly told herself after Haymitch dismissed them. Maybe this magical effect of mine doesn't last very long. Maybe, one day, the whole country will wake up and hate me too.

XXXXX

While Atala reads down the list of the skill stations, Katniss can't keep her eyes from flitting around the room.

Marvel. Clove. Cato. Fox-face. Thresh. Rue.

Her chest tightens. These are the faces that haunt her dreams. The voices that echo in her nightmares.

Katniss bites her lip to keep from screaming. Her palms are clammy, her heart is racing, but she doesn't move an inch.

This is the hardest thing she's had to do so far, and she needs to get it right. She can't let the others see her distress.

Slowly averting her eyes, she reminds herself, My name is Katniss Everdeen. I am seventeen years old. My home is District 12. I was in the Hunger Games. I escaped. The Capitol hates me, but I came back.

Katniss breathes. In. Out. In. Out.

Her heart rate is almost back to normal when she finishes. I came back to make Snow pay.

She's still lost in her thoughts when Peeta nudges her arm and makes her jump.

His expression is sober. "Where would you like to start?"

Katniss looks around at the Career Tributes who are already showing off, clearly trying to intimidate the field. Then at the others, the underfed, the incompetent, shakily having their first lessons with a knife or an ax.

"Suppose we tie some knots," she says.

"Right you are," says Peeta.

XXXXX

They spend their morning trying out different skills.

Now that she knows what type of arena awaits her, Katniss realizes that the stations are full of clues. The kinds of ropes they use at the knot-tying class. The mud, clay, and berry juices available in the camouflage section. They all seem so obvious now that she knows they'll be going to a forest.

When they reach the medicinal plants' section, Katniss stops short. The last time she was here, she practically skipped it, but she's on a different mission now, so she walks in and makes sure Peeta follows.

A big screen shows pictures of plants with a brief description underneath.

Katniss flips through the crisp images until she finds what she's looking for: the leaves Rue used to treat her.

"These are great!" she enthusiastically tells Peeta. "They fight off infection, bring down swelling, and numb the pain. They're handy when you've been stung by insects or bees. You have to chew them up into a pulp and spit them on top of your wound."

Peeta wrinkles his nose. "Spit them?"

"Yeah," Katniss confirms, "Otherwise, you won't release their properties. My mother would use other methods, but…" Lowering her voice, she adds, "Sometimes you don't have a lot of options when you're out in the woods."

Apparently satisfied with her answer, Peeta nods. After glancing around to make sure no one is listening, he whispers, "Have you been stung many times?"

"Only twice," Katniss admits, "I immediately pulled the stingers out and put the leaves on top. It wasn't so bad."

Peeta's eyes are locked on the screen as he says, "Maybe I should stuff my pockets with these if I ever find any in the arena. You know? Just in case."

"It won't hurt," Katniss agrees, holding on to the hope that he will do just that.

XXXXX

On the second night of her training, Katniss decides to go back to the rooftop.

Peeta is already there. He's sitting on a bench by the flower beds with a sketchpad propped up against his bent knee. The little bundle of pencils she gave him back in District Twelve rests by his side.

She can tell he's distracted, so she clears her throat to make her presence known.

"Hey!" Peeta calls out. He looks tired, but his smile is sweet and welcoming.

"Mind if I join you?" she asks.

Peeta pats the empty seat next to him, and Katniss walks over.

A small sigh escapes her as she sits down. Her daytime routine hasn't been as tiring this time around, but she's still beat.

"Nice pad," she says.

"It's Portia's," Peeta runs his fingers along the edge of the paper in a reverent caress. "She said I could borrow it."

Anticipating her next question, Peeta tilts the pad in her direction.

Katniss gasps. The angle of the image is one she cannot place, but there's no doubt in her mind, Peeta has painted her woods.

Reaching for the corner of the pad so as not to smudge his drawing, she asks, "Where is this?"

"It's the view from my house."

Katniss narrows her eyes, the bakery is in the center of town, but Peeta hasn't included any buildings in his picture. "Your house?"

"There's an attic that we use for storage. I like to go up there sometimes. It's higher than most buildings in the district, so you get to see all the way out into the woods."

Katniss stares at the drawing and tells herself not to cry, but it's not easy. Not when Prim and District Twelve are so far away, not when Peeta is opening up to her in ways he never did before.

"Do you like it?" Peeta asks.

The nervous tremor in his voice tugs at her heart; she reaches for his arm and gives him a reassuring squeeze. "Of course I do! Peeta, it's extraordinary! Prim's right. You're very talented."

Peeta shakes his head and accepts the compliment with a quiet, "Thank you."

Letting go of him, Katniss settles in her seat, resting her back against the wall and stretching her legs. Nodding to his pad, she says, "Go on. Don't let me interrupt."

Peeta starts drawing again.

Katniss watches, mesmerized, as his hand dances over the paper, making the blank page bloom with delicate strokes of color.

They stay like that for a while, side by side on the bench, wrapped in peaceful silence, enjoying each other's presence and silently wishing for more time.

XXXXX

As soon as the anthem is over, Katniss makes a beeline out of the Training Center lobby and onto the elevator bank. Moving swiftly, she veers into a car that does not contain Peeta.

The crowd slows the entourages of stylists and mentors and chaperones. Soon, Katniss finds herself alone with only other tributes for company. No one speaks.

The elevator stops to deposit four tributes before she's alone. One quick breath is all she has time for before the doors open on the twelfth floor.

Peeta has only just stepped from his car when she slams her palms into his chest and pushes him towards the wall.

Peeta loses his balance, but the wall breaks his fall. A few inches away from him, an ugly urn filled with fake flowers stands on its pedestal, untouched.

With Peeta safely out of harm's way, Katniss grabs the urn and smashes it on the floor, shattering it into hundreds of tiny pieces.

Good, she thinks as she takes a step back, I've always hated the damned thing.

"What was that for?" Peeta says, aghast.

"You had no right! No right to go saying those things about me!" Katniss yells at him.

Before Peeta can say anything, the elevators open, and the whole crew is there, Effie, Haymitch, Cinna, and Portia.

"What's going on?" says Effie, a note of hysteria in her voice as she notices the broken urn and Peeta slumped form against the wall. "Did you trip?”

"No," says Peeta pushing himself off the wall to straighten up, "Katniss broke it after she shoved me."

Haymitch turns on Katniss. "Shoved him?"

"This was your idea, wasn't it?" Katniss answers, "Turning me into some kind of fool in front of the entire country?"

"It was my idea," Peeta cuts in. "Haymitch just helped me with it."

The hurt in his eyes guts her, but she can't back down now. This is how she reacted the first time around, and as hard as it is, she knows she has to stick with it.

"Yes, Haymitch is very helpful. To you!" she yells.

"You are a fool," Haymitch says in disgust. "Do you think he hurt you? That boy just gave you something you could never achieve on your own."

"He made me look weak!" Katniss says.

"He made you look desirable! And let's face it, you can use all the help you can get in that department. You were about as romantic as dirt until he said he wanted you. Now they all do. You're all they're talking about. The star-crossed lovers from District Twelve!" says Haymitch.

"But we're not star-crossed lovers!" she says.

Haymitch grabs her shoulders and pins her against the wall. "Who cares? It's all a big show. It's all how you're perceived…"

As Haymitch prattles on about sponsors, Katniss tunes out. She doesn't need to be convinced of anything. She already knows their strategy is the right one.

As soon as Cinna steps into the conversation, Katniss softens. "I should have been told, so I didn't look so stupid," she grumbles.

"No, your reaction was perfect. If you'd known, it wouldn't have read as real," says Portia.

"She's just worried about her boyfriend," says Peeta gruffly, eyes locked on the shattered urn.

Katniss fixes him with a deadly glare. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Whatever," says Peeta. "But I bet he's smart enough to know a bluff when he sees it. Besides, you didn't say you loved me. So what does it matter?"

As the words sink in, an old familiar darkness envelops her. This, right here, is what has caused so much pain between them.

Even after all this time and everything they've been through, she has never been able to tell Peeta how she feels about him. Just as she's never told Gale that he's nothing more than a dear friend.

This silence, this reticence, has hurt Peeta over and over again. It's the reason why he pushed her away after their first Game and why President Snow was able to twist his mind and convince him that she was a mutt programmed to kill him.

I need to do better, she thinks. This time around, I need to do more.

Feeling all eyes on her, Katniss turns to Cinna and asks, "After he said he loved me, did you think I could be in love with him, too?"

"I did," says Portia. "The way you avoided looking at the cameras, the blush."

The others chime in, agreeing.

"You're golden, sweetheart," Haymitch adds. "You're going to have sponsors lined up around the block."

Worried that she's going to burst out in tears, she forces herself to acknowledge Peeta. "I'm sorry I shoved you."

"Doesn't matter," he shrugs. "The urn got it worse."

Portia and Cinna's goodnatured laughter diffuses the remaining tension.

"Come on, let's eat," says Haymitch directing everyone towards the delicious smells wafting in from the dining room.

XXXXX

The roof is not lit at night, but as soon as her bare feet reach its tiled surface, she sees his silhouette, black against the lights that shine endlessly in the Capitol.

There's quite a commotion going on down in the streets, music and singing and car horns. Katniss knows she could slip away now without Peeta noticing her; he wouldn't hear her over the din, but that's not what she wants.

Her feet move soundlessly across the tiles. She's only a yard behind him when she says, "You should be getting some sleep."

Peeta starts but doesn't turn, just gives his head a slight shake. "I didn't want to miss the party. It's for us, after all."

She comes up beside him and leans over the edge of the rail. The wide streets are full of dancing people. Squinting to get a better look at them, she asks, "Are they in costumes?"

"Who could tell? With all the crazy clothes they wear here." Turning to her, he asks, "Couldn't sleep, either?"

"Couldn't turn my mind off," she says.

"Thinking about your family?"

"Not exactly," she admits a bit guiltily. After going through two arenas, she's not as worried about Prim and her mother as she once was. She knows they can cope without her. "All I can do is wonder about tomorrow. Which is pointless, of course."

Facing him, she says, "I really am sorry about before."

"It doesn't matter, Katniss," Peeta says.

"I was just upset that you would share something private like that…"

Peeta nods. "I know."

"And, also… I just don't get it. I mean, why would you give me an advantage like that? You're going to need sponsors too, you know?"

Peeta shakes his head. "It won't make a difference. I've never been a contender in these Games. Not really."

Katniss reaches for his hand. "Peeta, that's no way to be thinking."

"Why not? It's true." With the gentlest of touches, Peeta runs his fingers over the back of Katniss's hand. "My best hope is to not disgrace myself and . . ." he hesitates.

With a small squeeze, she silently encourages him to continue.

"I don't know how to say it exactly," Peeta finally says. "Only . . . I want to die as myself. Does that make any sense?"

Katniss swallows thickly.

Once upon a time, she stood there and told him that she didn't understand and —most importantly— that she didn't care. But she's a different person now. She knows exactly what he means and why it matters.

Although she knows what he's getting at, she still needs him to complete his thought. Shyly, she asks, "Do you mean you won't kill anyone?"

"No, when the time comes, I'm sure I'll kill just like everybody else. I can't go down without a fight. Only I keep wishing I could think of a way to . . . to show the Capitol they don't own me. That I'm more than just a piece in their Games," says Peeta.

Her chest tightens at his words. Being back in that moment with him reminds her of everything that’s gone wrong in her life.

Before her mind can wander back into the dark recesses of her pain, she says, "The thing is, Peeta, you're not. None of us are. That's how the Games work."

"OK, but within that framework, there's still you, there's still me," he insists. "Don't you see?"

Katniss nods. She sees, she knows, she understands. What's more, she still can't believe she was ever so blind.

She inches closer to him so he can hear her over the ruckus of the city and the wind chimes.

In her mind, she repeats the little speech she's prepared for this moment. Every year they throw us in an arena and tell us to kill each other, and we do it. But there's a part, deep inside of us, that they don't own, a part that refuses to be pushed around and that will stand up and say, "enough, this is a line I won't cross."

But, once she opens her mouth, the words that slip from her lips are quite different, "I don't have a boyfriend."

Peeta blinks. Once. Twice. "What?"

Katniss bursts out laughing. "I'm sorry, I just…" Bewildered, she covers her face to hide her embarrassment and silently reprimand herself for losing her focus.

With a shake of her head, she straightens up. Her earnest eyes meet Peeta's. "I get what you're saying. They are forcing us to fight for our lives, but they don't get to decide how we go about it, right? We do. At the end of the day, it's up to us. We choose who to attack and who to help, when to face danger and when to hide. "

Peeta nods. "Right." Looking out into the sprawling city, he adds, "I just hope I can make the right choices, you know?"

Katniss sighs. “Yeah, me too.”

Leaning against the railing, Peeta tilts his head to look at her. The playful glint in his eyes is something she hasn't seen in a very long time. "So, you don't have a boyfriend."

Katniss shakes her head, chuckling at the absurdity of the topic.

"What about the guy who took your sister away at the reaping?"

"That's Gale."

"Uh-huh," Peeta's head bobs up and down as he nods. "And Gale is…"

Katniss looks up at him. He's so open, so pure, right now that all her thoughts about plans and strategies melt away. "He's just a friend," she says.

Peeta's smile forms slowly, warm and genuine, a little flirty even. It makes her whole body tingle. "Just a friend, huh? Does he know that?"

Katniss's jaw goes slack. Back in the day, she would have answered with a resounding "yes, of course, he does" but, that answer doesn't really fit the situation. She knows that now. So, instead of throwing her righteous indignation at him, she asks, "What do you mean?"

Peeta shrugs. "I don't know. It's just… I thought you had something with him."

Genuinely intrigued, she asks, "Why?"

"Um," Peeta fills his lungs with crisp Capitol air. As he pushes it out, he says, "You seem to spend a lot of time together. Whenever I see you around town, you're either with him or with Prim. I used to think he was your cousin or something. You favor each other. But then... there was the look."

Katniss frowns. "The look?"

"Yeah." Peeta's shy smile makes another appearance. "He kept glaring at me the other day when we met up by the Meadow." The shocked expression on her face makes him chuckle. "I'm surprised you didn't notice."

"Well," Katniss reaches for the end of her messy braid and begins twisting it around her finger. "I wasn't focusing on him."

Peeta's lips part, but no words come out.

Blushing, Katniss turns to face the city again. "Gale and I hunt together. Our families are close. That's it."

Peeta's gentle touch on her elbow gets her attention. Kind, soft eyes gaze straight into hers when he says, "You know, Katniss, what I said earlier—,"

Impulsively, she leans forward and kisses him, stopping his words.

It takes Peeta half a second to react. In one fluid move, he wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her to him.

His lips meld with hers in a slow, sweet dance.

After months of pain and sorrow, Katniss finally feels joy. Closing her eyes, she forgets the world and kisses him with abandon.

Peeta's free hand makes its way to the back of her head, where he buries his fingers in her hair to keep her there, rooted in his arms, anchored to him.

Elated, Katniss hums her approval.

This kiss is like the cave and the beach all rolled into one. It's like every happy moment they've ever shared together, every smile, every touch. It's like coming home after a long day, like finding her soul.

That familiar stirring inside her chest, warm and curious, comes back to life. It fills her entire being with want and need, pushing her to explore more. Blindly, she follows.

Holding on to his broad shoulders, Katniss pulls him even closer, pressing herself against his chest until she can feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, beating against her own.

Smiling, Peeta begins raining kisses over her cheeks, her nose, her forehead.

Her skin tingles. Her pulse races. Her heart soars.

I'll keep you safe, she promises, holding on to him like she did back at the beach, back when they were surrounded by mutts and enemies and lies.

With one long sigh, Peeta finally pulls away, pressing his forehead to hers while they both catch their breaths.

In that brief moment of glorious harmony only one thought goes through her mind. Peeta. Every heartbeat is like a reminder. He's back, he's here, he's mine.

Glancing up, she finds his eyes, dark and dazed, and she knows. Whatever this is, Peeta feels it too. He always has.

"Katniss—,"

"No," she interrupts again, placing her fingers on his lips to quiet him. She hates what she's about to do, but she doesn't have a choice.

She takes a step away from him and immediately feels lost. "You have a plan for tomorrow, right?"

Peeta's face falls at the sudden reminder of why they're there. He nods.

Reaching forward, Katniss brushes the hair back from his forehead in one last tender caress. "That's what you need to focus on, OK? Just think about—,"

"Staying alive?" Peeta finishes, a crooked grin pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Katniss cups his cheek. "Exactly." Her heart skips a beat when he leans into her touch, but she still insists, "This doesn't change anything that happens tomorrow, Peeta. It can't."

"I know," he says, covering her hand with his and pressing a kiss to her palm. "It just changes everything that's happened until today."

Katniss bites her lip and nods. Peeta's right. Even for her, things are dramatically different now. There's so much more at stake. She knows where they stand, and she's no longer running away from him and the things he makes her feel.

Rising to the tips of her toes, she kisses him one last time. "See you tomorrow," she says.

Then, she walks away.

#things i write #A second Chance #Everlark fan fiction #time travel AU

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fictionwordcounts · 3 years ago

Text

Together or Not at All [Din x Reader]

Word Count: 8000+

Summary: Normally two Mandalorians working together wasn't a good idea, but sometimes you're forced to make it work; and sometimes you want it to work.

It had been months since you had seen another Mandalorian. It was better for only a few hunters to work at a time, so they hardly crossed paths during a mission. That's why when a Mandalorian showed up in your town, word got around fast.

You had just picked up a bounty puck from an old friend of yours when a group of chattering droids wandered into the cantina. You twiddled your thumbs as they gossiped away, giving you all the information you needed. You could almost laugh at the stupidity of droids. They didn't know or care about what they could be giving away.

You slid your drink down the counter for someone else to enjoy. Normally, you'd take one back to your ship, but this couldn't be one of those times. You had work to do and a bounty hunter to find.

You walked down the street looking for the one person you knew that couldn't resist telling you everything; Even if it was for a price. As you passed by children playing in the streets, their mothers rounded them inside as quickly as they could. They knew your reputation, and though you would never hurt a youngling, it was probably best they stay out of your way. They watched curiously behind their mothers until you had passed their dwelling.

"If it isn't old Wrist Rocket!" Jung Powell's voice rang out signaling you had reached your destination. He called you that because a small missile launcher on your wrist was the only piece of pure beskar you had. It stood out, hence him picking it to distinguish you from other Mandalorians.

He emerged from his workshop and walked over to you. "Here to ask about the new Mando in town, eh?"

"Where are they?" You asked simply.

Jung laughed and squashed a bug underneath his foot. He was always easily distracted. "You know I like ya," he smiled. "But payment's been kind of high this month. Y'know how it is--"

"Fine. I'll get you a payment," you interrupted.

He chuckled and crossed all four of his green arms. "That's why I like you, but it's a bit different this time." You withheld a breath. If Jung wanted you to do something different, it was never good.

"I don't have time to chase down the people you squabble with," you argued.

"It's not a squabble," he countered. "He owes me money, and he won't pay up."

"So, a squabble," you huffed.

He waved two of his hands dismissively. "Ok, call it what you want. The point is I'm not very intimidating--"

"You don't say."

"But if you so much as walk in the door, he'll be at your feet with the money. I just know it." You took a moment to weigh out the options. It was just a simple debt collection. You figured it would be an easy job. Just get it over with and find the other Mandalorian.

"Fine," you agreed. "Who owes you?"

"Don't know if you've heard of him. His name's Kole. Never gave a me a last name, but he doesn't live far away."

He gave you the directions to your target, and you went quickly on your way. You needed to get this job over with so you could get the information you needed about the Mandalorian. You were almost jogging down the streets as you relayed the directions in your head. Left. Right. Left again. You stopped your mental GPS when you heard some kind of commotion. You took a deep breath. It was where your target supposedly was.

You armed the rocket on your wrist and slowly walked into the building. A man dropped at your feet and you instinctively aimed at him. He wasn't moving. You kicked his arm to make sure it was safe to continue.

"Who are you?" A voice made you whip around. Standing only a few feet from you was a Mandalorian decked out in full beskar armor. Every system in your body froze, and you had to remind yourself to breathe.

"You're a Mandalorian," you commented, ignoring his question.

"So are you," he added. He took a step towards you and you pulled out your blaster. He raised his hands slightly, but he didn't step back.

"What are you doing here?" you questioned.

"I'm just passing through," he answered. "I didn't know...I thought all the other Mandalorians were dead." You were glad the helmet you wore concealed the shock on your face. Either he was a lunatic or something terrible at happened.

"Why would you think that?" you asked.

He kept a hand raised as he crouched down at the man at your feet. "Because they all died," he quipped. You didn't quite know how to process what he was saying. You hadn't gone back to Mandalore in years, so it wasn't impossible that he was telling the truth. Still, you refused to believe that they were all gone.

He pulled something out of the mans pocket and stepped back once more. "What is that?" you questioned. The only reason you could trust him was the fact that he was a Mandalorian, and at the moment, that wasn't enough.

He crushed the device in his hand, making you wonder what it was even more. "Broken," he responded simply.

You rolled your eyes though he couldn't see it. "You better start talking, because this is my town. I'm not letting another Mandalorian put me out of my job here.

"I'm not here to take your job," he assured you. "I just came for him." He gestured to the unmoving man that was still at your feet. You figured by now that it was Kole. Your target.

"He was my job," you growled. He still hadn't told you why he was there or how the other Mandalorians had died. He wasn't telling you anything, and it frustrated you to no end.

"Well," he sighed. "You better hope your employer will take him in cold." He tried to walk by you and you were quick to block him.

"Move," he ordered.

"Not until you give me answers," you insisted.

"I was going to," he said. "Back at my ship."

"I'm perfectly fine discussing this here," you said pointedly.

"I'm not." He changed his approach, realizing that he wasn't getting through to you. "Believe me, I'm not going anywhere. I've been looking for another Mandalorian for a while. I just need to get something."

You both stared at each other as if you could read the other's expression through the helmets. That was always a problem with Mandalorians. They couldn't communicate without getting physical. The longer you stood there the heavier the tension in the air became.

A squeal interrupted your stare-down, and before you knew it, your blaster was aimed in the direction of the sound.

"Don't!" The Mandalorian cried. You took a moment to take in what exactly you were looking at. A small green creature with abnormally large ears was standing on a counter not far off.

"How did that get in here?" you demanded.

The Mandalorian rushed over to the creature and gingerly picked it up. "I don't know," he huffed. Then to the child he added, "I thought I told you to stay on the ship." It cooed in response and held it's hand out toward you. You still had your blaster raised, so you lowered it slowly and stared at it's three little fingers.

"What does it want?" you asked. Instead of responding, he put the child down on the ground, and it stumbled in it's oversized coat towards you. You tensed up as it got closer.

"What does it want?" you repeated with more urgency. The kid reached your feet and grabbed on to one of your legs. You froze, so you didn't hurt it by moving.

"Don't hurt him, he's just a kid," The Mandalorian said.

"I wasn't planning on it, but you need to get it off of me!" You raised the boot with the creature on it so he could take it off. He set it back on the ground, and it immediately started making it's way back to you. He picked it up with a warning and didn't put it down again.

"That's not....your kid---"

"No," he interrupted. "I just found him."

"A foundling," you whispered as you stepped towards the child.

The Mandalorian instinctively stepped back. "Yes. I've been keeping him safe."

"Hence my target being dead at my feet," you guessed.

He nodded. "Are you a guild member?"

"No, I get my targets from locals," you explained. "Something I intend to keep doing, so you and your foundling might want to make yourselves disappear."

"We're not here to ruin your business."

"You being here is ruining my business," you pointed out. "Right now, I get plenty of jobs. Why shouldn't I? I am the only Mandalorian in this town after all. Add another in the mix? eventually we'll be either splitting the load, or fighting for the best offer."

"I'm not here for the jobs," he said. "If I needed jobs, I could go anywhere. Like I said, the Mandalorians are gone. People will hire anyone. All you need is the armor."

"Speaking of," you said with a nod towards his armor. "You've got a pretty good set. What are the odds of the Mandalorians being wiped out and a single man making it out with full beskar armor? I'd guess pretty slim. Unless of course he helped kill a few so he could keep the spoils."

"I got this armor before they all died," he informed. "High paying customer."

"Must've been quite a bounty."

"Still is," he looked at the kid in his arms. "That's why I have to keep him safe."

You paused to take in what he had said. "That was the bounty?"

"If you lay a finger on him--"

"I'm not interested in the money," you snapped. "I just want to know how you got paid and still got to keep him."

"It's complicated."

You looked back and forth between him and the kid. "Alright. I don't care. Just get what you came for and get off my planet."

***

It had been days since your Mandalorian encounter and he still hadn't left. You would see him around town every now and again, and he was always with that kid. He insisted he was leaving, but he never did. It made you anxious. In just the few days he had been there he had stirred everyone up. You couldn't imagine what would happen if he never left.

You sat on the edge of a rock on the outskirts of your town. He claimed he had his ship parked somewhere around there. You wanted to check it out, but you weren't in any hurry. It was nice to be able to take in the scenery for a moment. You stood and took a deep breath. Calming down for a second was just what you needed. This Mandalorian had you worked up for nothing.

You turned around and froze when you saw the Mandalorian's kid standing right in front of you. For some reason, he always made an effort to find you. You liked to think the Mandalorian told it to, just to get on your nerves.

"Go back to the Mandalorian," you ordered. It titled it's head and continued to stare at you. "The other Mandalorian." It stayed.

"Look, kid, I'm not babysitting you. Go back to the Mandalorian that takes care of you, cause it certainly isn't me." Finally, he started walking. Unfortunately for him, he was walking straight towards the edge of the cliff. You put your foot in it's path and it looked up at you.

"Try the other way," you instructed. You nudged it with your foot away from the edge. It paused there for a moment, then turned around and headed for the edge again. You sighed and picked it up by the back of it's cloak. You really didn't want to touch it at all, but you couldn't leave it to wander off the cliff like that. You held it away from you as you continued to trek through the rocky area. Either you'd find his ship or you'd take the creature back to him directly.

A few moments later you saw smoke rising in the sky. There was nothing in that area for miles. The perfect place to land a ship. You picked up the pace, hoping that it was the ship you were looking for. Sure enough in the middle of the clearing was a broken down ship that looked like it used to be a Razor Crest.

"Please tell me that isn't his ship," you said to the child. It only gurgled in response. You set it down now that it couldn't wander off an edge somewhere, and it started walking to the ship. No wonder that Mandalorian was still there. He hardly had a ship to fly back on.

"Hey!" The Mandalorian came up behind you. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"You intend to fly back on that?" you remarked. "That wouldn't make it off the ground, much less the planet."

"You think I don't know that?" he huffed. "That's why I've been repairing it these past few days. Don't worry. The kid and I will be out of your little town in no time." He stopped the kid halfway to the ship and carried him the rest of the way. You decided to follow, curious about the inside. You followed the Mandalorian up the ramp and took a quick look around the ship. It didn't take long since it was so small and cramped. You couldn't imagine living in it.

"Are you done with your little tour?" he grumbled when you had made it back to the ramp.

You shrugged. "If you don't want me to look around your ship, you should've had it off the planet."

"Unless you have a spare parked in a garage somewhere, that's not going to happen just yet."

"It might be easier if you didn't have a kid to look after," you pointed out.

"It's not that difficult."

"Oh really?" you smirked. "Is that why I found it about to wander off a cliff?"

You could see him tense beneath his beskar armor. "What?" he said testily.

You walked off the ship with a last comment over your shoulder. "I'll let you get back to work."

You sat outside the cantina with Jung Powell talking business. He always bought you a drink thought he knew you couldn't remove your helmet. He probably did it as a temptation to break your code, but it would never work. Instead he would just drink yours as well as his.

"You did great with the money Kole owed me," he was saying. "But you killing him gave a lot of people cold feet y'know."

You tilted your head slightly. "What about you?"

He reached forward to grab the cup in front of you. "I understand it was all in a day's work," he said through a chuckle. He emptied the glass in one gulp and slammed the cup back on the table. "So, if you're looking for another job, I'm the one to talk to."

"That's why I'm here," you said.

"This one's a bit different--"

"With how often you say that, it's starting to become expected."

"Right, I get that, but this really is something else." He leaned over the table enough for you to smell his breath. "Are you up for a cargo run?"

You leaned back and shook your head. "I'm a bounty hunter, not a mail carrier."

"Not even if the mail includes a high paying customer?" he bribed. You stared at him as you considered the offer. It was almost impossible for you to give up a good payment, and you knew that Jung never let you down when it came to those.

"Where to?" you asked warily.

"A dwarf planet a couple systems away--"

"Off planet?" you interrupted. "No deal."

"Come on, wrist rocket, it's getting harder and harder to get deals that stay on planet," he whined.

"Maybe for you, but I have other sources." You stood up to leave and he was quick to tumble out of his chair and stop you.

"No, no, wait!" he cried. "I promise it's worth your time! Plenty of credits! Probably enough to get you more than just a wrist rocket!" You froze. You couldn't lie and say that it wasn't tempting. Deep down you knew it was because of the Mandalorian, but you didn't listen to yourself.

Instead you turned back to Jung. "What do I need to take and where?"

He smiled and rubbed two of his hands together. "Glad you're on board." He gave you your assignment and you walked away knowing you just made a big mistake. Madnalorians were true to their word. If you said you were going to do it, you have to see it through. Now you took up a job out of what? Spite? It was a terrible idea. However, you pushed the doubt out of your mind and looked towards your goal. The only thing you needed now was a way off the planet.

***

"You want me to do what?" The Mandalorian didn't sound thrilled about your offer.

"I'll give you a cut," you assured him. "I just need transportation off-planet."

"I'm not towing you around to whatever planet you want for a small tip."

"A small tip and the repairs you need to get that ship off the ground," you corrected.

"No thanks. I'll repair it myself." He walked back into his ship, not letting you respond. You stepped back to see his ship was still smoking and hissing and let out a frustrated breath. You knew you could fix it for him, but you wouldn't do it for charity. You weren't getting through to him though. You cut your losses and turned around to leave.

Something grabbed on to your leg and out of instinct, you tried to kick it off. You heard the Mandalorian's foundling squealing so you stopped and looked down. Once again, the creature was holding onto your boot with a iron grip. Normally you'd pry it off and send it on it's way, but as it looked up at you with it's big black eyes, you had an awful idea.

Warily, you began walking it back to the ship. You heard the Mandalorian in the the cockpit so you waited for him to come down. When he did come down and saw you with the creature, he froze.

"What are you doing with him?" he said. You could tell he was tense, and his hand was hovering closer and closer to his blaster.

"Your little foundling won't let go of me," you said with a smirk that he thankfully couldn't see. "I tried and tried, but he just won't budge."

"Sounds like a you problem," he said. You thought you heard a hint of humor, but he was far too concerned about his kid for you to tell.

"It is until I go off-planet to finish out this job, and because I couldn't get him away from me, he tags along. That sounds very much like a you problem," you teased.

The Mandalorian clenched his fists. He scooped the kid off your leg and placed him in his bed. He closed the door and turned back to you. "Leave the kid out of this."

"I can't help what it does--"

"You're not taking him with you." Now he was getting upset.

You felt the kid grab onto your boot again and without looking down at it you said, "I don't think I have a choice."

"How did you--" The Mandalorian tried to take him off again, but the kid stayed put. "C'mon kid, let go."

Nothing.

The Mandalorian tugged harder, but the kid squealed, causing him to stop. He looked from the creature to you. For a second, your stomach flipped at the idea that he might actually kill you just to get his kid back. You quickly pushed the thought aside. He wouldn't. It was against the code.

He stood there considering his options for a while before he finally mumbled, "You'd have to get it to fly."

You smiled and gently took the kid off your boot. "Thank you," you said as you handed it over.

He took it and brushed past you as he said, "Just one trip there and back. No more." That was fine by you. You got exactly what you needed. Now you had to get to work with the repairs.

***

You and the Mandalorian sat in the cockpit ready to test out the repaired ship. His kid sat in his lap since you were taking up it's usual spot, so he carefully reached around it to flip switches and press buttons. He had instructed you not to touch anything, then proceeded to unscrew a small lever and hand part of it to the kid.

"We just repaired this thing, and you think it's a good idea to take it apart for that thing's chew toy?" you inquired.

"I know what I'm doing," he snapped. He pulled up, and the whole ship rumbled beneath you. For a moment you weren't sure it would make it off the ground. Then, with a low creak, the ship rose and started cruising forward slowly but surely.

"Hold on," the Mandalorian instructed. He increased the speed and the ship let out a number of complaints. It started rumbling and shaking uncontrollably, and you grabbed onto the seat so you wouldn't get tossed around.

"What's happening?" you shouted over the noise of alarms and groaning metal.

"It'll stabilize once we break through the atmosphere!" he responded.

"If we make it that far!" you snapped. You looked over at the kid on his lap. He was smiling and bouncing like it was some kind of ride to him. Something you would've found funny if there wasn't a good chance that you would all plummet back to the ground. A few moments later, space came speeding into view and the alarms switched off. Then in a second everything went from chaotic to completely silent.

"Told you," the Mandalorian said. "Now we just cruise over to your dwarf planet. I don't think we'll be able to jump to hyperspace."

"What?" you said louder than you had planned. "That could take us days, and that's if we don't come across any obstacles!"

"You're the one who wanted a ride," he quipped as he leaned back in his chair. "If you change your mind, there's always the eject pods."

It took every cell in your body to maintain your composure. This wasn't even a mission you were particularly thrilled about going on, much less with this Mandalorian. You felt at times that the only thing keeping you both from each others throats was the Mandalorian code, but according to him, all the Mandalorians were dead. What validity was there to that pact?

The creature on his lap kept looking at you with it's huge, pitch-black eyes. You didn't know how to react. It was hard not to stare. It's eyes and ears were oversized, and it's layers of clothes made it look like it was in a squishy cocoon. It was kind of cute. You smiled at it, and though it couldn't see, it gurgled and smiled back.

"How old is it?" you asked. The Mandalorian seemed taken aback by the question. You were almost surprised yourself. You didn't care about the kid. You were just curious.

"I don't know," he said after a while. "Somewhere around 50?"

"Fifty?" you asked surprised.

"Well, he obviously ages slower than we do," he remarked. You looked over at the kid and he looked back at you with wide questioning eyes. The Mandalorian stood up with the kid in his arms, and went to the lower part of the ship. "I'll be right back. Don't touch anything!" His command echoed just far enough for you to hear him. You rolled your eyes and reclined in your seat. You might as well get comfortable.

You had been twiddling your thumbs for almost half an hour, and the Mandalorian still hadn't come back. It was irritating, especially since you couldn't do anything on his ship. It clearly wasn't meant to be a livable space. It was just meant for towing him across the galaxy.

You had thought about traveling beyond your planet before, and the longer you stayed the more you wanted to leave. You had heard that it's the spirit of a Mandalorian to travel from place to place, but you never tried. Now you looked out at the black of space littered with stars. It had been so long since you had seen it.

A small, quiet sound roused you from your thoughts. You turned your seat around to see the kid standing there and staring right at you. A small chuckle escaped your lips.

"What do I have to do to get you to stop following me?" you asked half-jokingly. He babbled as if he was actually trying to respond. He walked closer and raised his arms.

"Sorry, but I don't think your dad would want me picking you up," you warned. It insisted and walked even closer. You rolled your eyes. The Mandalorian didn't seem to be coming back soon anyway. You granted the child's wish and picked him up. You didn't set him on your lap, but rather held him a good distance away from you as if he was toxic.

"Are you seriously older than I am?" you whispered almost to yourself.

"Hey!" The Mandalorian's voice cut through the ships low hum and made you jump. You almost dropped the kid so you brought him closer to you by instinct. "What are you doing with the kid?"

"Your kid keeps coming to me!" you explained angrily. "Besides, he's fine." You held the creature out towards the Mandalorian like it was some dull object. He was quick to take it from you, and he sat back down in the pilot's seat. You needed to say something. Anything. You were getting tired of constantly being mad at each other. After all, you were supposedly the last two of your kind. It probably wasn't best to be fighting each other with every word.

"I don't even know what I'm supposed to call you," you mentioned. It was a sudden thought that you had. You currently didn't call him anything. The way you got each others attention was by yelling at the other. Definitely not a good way to end the fighting.

His head moved ever so slightly towards you. "I don't really..." He trailed off and a long moment of silence passed before he spoke up again. "Why don't you just...call me Mando?"

"Mando?" you inquired. "That derogatory nickname that almost every Mandalorian gets?"

"It's not a derogatory nickname. At least, not anymore," he corrected. "I don't have anything else in mind."

"Well, Mandalorians get their nicknames by what they look like or how they act," you pointed out. You looked him up and down. "I guess that would make you 'Beskar?'"

"And what would that make you? 'Not beskar?'" he retorted.

"Ha ha," you replied unenthusiastically. "I'm seriously just supposed to call you Mando?"

"Call me whatever you want," he concluded. "It's not like we're going to be seeing each other after I drop you off." You couldn't argue with that. You certainly didn't intend to see him again, and you were positive the feeling was mutual. You laid your head back against the seat. This was going to be a long trip.

***

Two days since you had left, the dwarf planet finally came into view. You were relieved to be so close to your destination. Of course, the trip wasn't as bad as you thought once you actually talked to Mando without bickering. If you didn't leave room for an argument, he hardly said anything, but the few things he said were actually worth something.

"That's the planet right?" he asked.

"It is," you confirmed. "Are you sure this thing is equipped to land?"

"I guess we'll find out in about five minutes," he replied as he flicked switches and pressed buttons.

"Ship 4119, this is landing pad 7. Do you have clearance to land?" A voice from the intercom made both of you freeze. A small hologram appeared with a symbol that made your blood turn cold. It was the crest of the Empire.

"This is an imperial trade?" Mando hissed under his breath.

"Dank farrik!" you growled. "I'll kill you, Powell."

"Ship 4119, are you reading me?" The voice pressed.

"What do we do?" you whispered.

"Four minutes 'til we land," he started. "We stall." He raised his voice so the person over the intercom could hear. "Yes, I have clearance, but there's some bad interference. Let me switch you over to another channel. Stand by." He switched off the intercom and turned towards you. "That should buy us about a minute."

"Only?" you asked incredulously.

"What did you expect dealing with the Empire?" he scolded.

"I didn't know it was the Empire," you defended weakly.

"We don't have long to figure out what we're doing," he reminded you. "We can't land on the pad so we need to find an alternative."

"It's all trees," you huffed. "The landing pad is our only option."

"Ship 4119, you cooperation is required or you will be terminated."

"The landing pad it is," he sighed. "Hold on to the kid. It's not going to be a smooth landing."

You did as he said and waited. He lowered the landing gear and the ship immediately seized up. The shook and rumbled, and alarms started going off. The voice over the intercom had started a countdown until their "termination". Mando waited until the count of one to expertly roll to the side and half land half crash onto a separate landing pad. Guards were around the ship in moments. Stormtroopers.

"Step out of the ship with your arms up," one commanded.

"They don't know that there's two of us," Mando whispered to you. "I'll walk out as they said, then on my signal, you come in behind and start taking them out." You nodded, and he started to make his way off the ship. You watched him closely for the signal as you readied your rocket. One hit, perfectly aimed, would take them all out.

The signal, followed by your rocket going off, followed by a blinding white light filled the next few moments of your life. When the smoke cleared, there was hardly anything telling you there were stormtroopers there at all. You exited the ship with the kid still in your arms.

"Not bad," you complemented yourself.

"Yeah, yeah, you did good," he brushed off. "We're not entirely out of the woods yet. Spread out and make contact if you find the package."

You stopped. "I thought you were leaving."

"What can I say?" he said with a small shrug. "I'm bored." He threw a small communicator in your direction. "If you come back without the kid, you're as good as dead." Without another word, he jogged off to look for the package. You look down at the kid in your hands, and he tilted his head.

"Yeah, I'm confused too," you murmured. You jogged in the opposite direction already waiting to get off this planet.

What seemed like hours later, Mando contacted you on the communicator. It was pretty choppy, but from what you could tell, he either had the package or he would soon. You breathed a sigh of relief. You weren't comfortable being so close to the Empire.

You quickly found the river you had been following, and began heading upstream. The kid was getting restless. He wanted to walk, but the Mandalorian would have your head if you let him with so many stormtroopers around. So you continued. You thought all would be well, but out of nowhere a gun shot fired right next to your head.

"They're over here!" A stormtrooper yelled through the woods. You found cover and quickly opened your communicator.

"Mando, I'm under attack!" you warned. "South of the ship, not far! Hurry!" Shots were firing all around you and the child started whimpering in fear. You held him close to you as you fired shots blindly into the forest. "Mando!"

Stormtroopers yelled in the distance signaling help was there. You stood from your cover and came helmet to helmet with a camo trooper. He knocked his gun into your hands, sending the kid rolling across the forest floor. You fired your blaster and the trooper dropped to the ground. You heard a sickening splash as you realized the child had rolled towards the river.

Mando caught up with you and noticed you didn't have his kid. "Where is he?" he yelled. You ignored him and plunged head first into the river. The child was so small, it would've been carried away in an instant. When you finally spotted him, he was bobbing downstream with a wide smile. You swam towards him, scooped him up, and placed him back on solid ground. Thankfully there wasn't a scratch on him.

The Mandalorian had made it to you and the kid right as you pulled yourself from the river. You were ready for him to scold you, grab the kid, and walk off, but he picked up the kid and extended an arm to you.

"You alright?" he questioned. You hesitantly took his hand, and he helped you stand.

"Fine," you said quietly. A small hint of a nod from Mando, and you were both walking through the forest back to the ship.

Mando held out a metal rod laced with blue light. "This the package?"

"Yes," you said as you took it from him. "Thank you."

"We can't get back on the Razor Crest," he informed. "It's too banged up."

"What are we supposed to do then?" you asked.

He turned to you. "We need one of those Imperial Cruisers."

***

It had been a whole month since your run-in with the Empire. You and Mando successfully stole one of the Empires aircraft, and made your way back to your planet without a hitch. It was there that Mando offered for you to work with him for a while. You told him you had to think about it, but your mind was already made up. You loved the thrill of going off planet, and you wanted to go again.

You hadn't looked back until now. You were currently making your way back to that same dwarf planet to retrieve the ship you had left behind so long ago.

"Either the Empire will be completely flushed out--" Mando was saying.

"Or they'll have grown ten times their original size," you finished.

"That about sums it up," he confirmed. Working together felt so natural now. It was a wonder Mandalorians hadn't worked together before. They had similar expertise, making it easy to agree to and execute a plan. At least, that was the case for you and the Mandalorian. You found a way to communicate without fighting, and you only grew closer from there.

You liked being around the Mandalorian. You hadn't expected to become so close to him, but you didn't mind one bit. You were both at ease with one another and didn't need a lot of words to understand each other. You both had learned the micro movements that the other would use. A small shift of the helmet. A clench of the fist. A drop of the shoulders. Small things that meant so much.

"So, you run the kid onto the ship as I cover you," Mando said, going through the plan once more.

"I set off a distraction long enough for you to make it on the ship yourself," you continued.

"And we fly off the planet as quick as we can."

"Assuming it will fly," you quipped.

"All of this is assuming they've grown stronger," he reminded you. "I'm not sure the Empire is capable of that at this point."

"I wouldn't get my hopes up," you cautioned. The intercom rang out with the same warning you had received last time.

Mando kept his eyes forward. "Here we go." He ignored the voice and landed the ship on the pad. You picked up the kid and waited for Mando to leave the ship first. He walked out, guns blazing, and you were quick to slip out behind him. A few troopers saw you, but luckily they were terrible shots. You made quick work of them and moved the kid onto the Razor Crest. So far so good. Now you just had give Mando a distraction.

Before you could even think of anything, three TIE fighters let loose a rain of fire on the pad where the Mandalorian was. In a panic you fired a rocket at one, but it just missed the fast moving ship.

"Mando!" you called. "Get in here! We need to move!" You fired at as many troopers as you could without attracting fire to yourself, but it didn't help much. He was practically by himself.

"Fire up the ship and take off!" You heard Mando's voice over the communicator in your helmet.

"I'm not leaving you," you replied.

"Leave the ramp open! Trust me!" Going against your better judgement, you did as he said. The child was confused as to why you were leaving the Mandalorian on the planet, but he stayed with you. You tried to get the ship off the ground, but it wouldn't budge. You diverted power and fuel until you had enough of a kick to get it moving.

"Now would be a great time to get on board!" you informed.

"I'm on my way! Fly!" he responded. You pushed forward as the ship creaked. Would it be able to make it off the planet?

"Lower!" Mando's voice called out suddenly. You pushed the ship downwards and everything lurched forward. Including the child who was more than happy to be around all the buttons.

"Get back in your seat," you instructed him. His ears drooped, but he obeyed and crawled off the control panel.

"I'm on! Close the ramp," Mando said. You closed the ramp and tried to direct the ship upwards. TIE fighters noticed the attempt to escape and started firing making the ship worse.

"We're taking fire!" you yelled. Mando climbed the ladder into the cockpit, and you were quick to move so he could take the controls. The ship slowly climbed while taking shots from the TIE fighters. You couldn't dodge them without using much needed fuel to get away from the planet. The ship was rocking and squealing as it tried to break through the planets atmosphere. You grabbed the child and rushed him down to his bed. He would be safer there than in the cockpit.

"We broke through!" Mando informed you. You climbed back up to where he was.

"Then why are we still shaking uncontrollably?" you questioned.

"Those TIE fighters will be on us in seconds," he continued. "We need to jump to hyperspace."

"This ship can't do that!"

"It'll have to. Where's the kid?"

"He's safe."

"Then hold on." He prepared everything for the jump, but he looked over at you before he started. "It's our only option."

You strapped in as quickly as you could. "Then do it." Mando engaged the hyperdrive. Immediately you knew you were going to crash. The ship's alarms blared and the engine burst into flames. Pulling out of hyperspace, you saw a planet speeding into view, but you couldn't stop the ship in time. You crashed and slid on the icy planet before everything went black.

***

When you woke up, you could only make out the orange light of fire mixing with the blue light of the planet you were on. You tried to blink to make the world come into focus, but your eyes refused to comply. You took off your helmet for a moment and cold wind whipped at your face. The back of your head throbbed and you gingerly touched it. When you moved your hand you saw that it was coated in blood. You were wounded where no one could see.

You slipped your helmet back on before going to find the Mandalorian. You didn't know what to do except find him, so that's what you would do. You didn't have to walk far before you found the crashed ship. You picked up the pace as you called for the Mandalorian. You entered the burning ship and found Mando unconscious in the cock pit. You shook his shoulder until he finally woke.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

"I'm fine," you lied.

"And the kid?" he pressed.

"I don't know," you answered. You both quickly descended the ladder and opened the door to the sleeping pod. The child sat on the bed completely unharmed. You breathed a sigh of relief. You felt as if the kid was your own. You didn't know what you'd do if something happened to him.

"Any sign of the Empire?" Mando questioned.

"None," you replied. "But there's no sign of getting off this planet either. We really messed up."

"There has to be some kind of lifeform on this planet," he insisted.

"I saw the planet. It's all snow and ice. You'd have to be crazy to live here."

"We have to try anyway." He grabbed a blanket off the bed and wrapped the child in it. You all left the ship and stepped onto the freezing planet. Your hopes of finding a way off were low to non-existent, but you followed Mando. He'd find a way.

The longer you walked, the dizzier you felt. Your head hadn't stopped throbbing and you were finding it hard to focus. Whatever you had done to your head was slowly chipping away at you. Your legs felt weak, and it wasn't long before they gave out on you. You crumpled into the snow.

"Y/N!" Mando called. You couldn't register his voice. Where he was. What was happening. The fact that he had used your name though you never gave it to him. It was all just a fleeting thought that was drowned out in the pain. He held you in his arms as he tried to keep you conscious. You felt his hands at the sides of your helmet and you quickly held them away.

"It's against the code," you groaned.

He looked at his hand which was covered in blood from your helmet. "You're bleeding! I have to take it off to help!"

"No!" you insisted. "You can't see my face. You know that."

"I'd rather you live with the shame then die here in the snow!"

"I can't," you breathed. "I've never taken it off in front of anyone." He stopped and looked at you hopelessly.

"It's ok," you said. "Find a way off the planet and take care of the kid." The Mandalorian carefully propped you up in the snow then slightly stepped back. Before you could say anything, or even think of what was happening. He removed his helmet and dropped it at his feet. His brown hair blew wildly in the wind as he bent down to you.

"You..." you barely whispered.

"I'm helping you even if that means breaking the code, but we'll be breaking it together," he said. You felt him lifting the helmet off your head, but you didn't stop him. He placed your helmet next to his in the snow and gently moved your hair aside. You didn't have the willpower to fight what was happening. You let him work as the world grew fuzzy around you. It all seemed surreal. Especially when the next thing you remembered was the child dropping to the ground in exhaustion.

The world was coming back into focus, and the throbbing pain in your skull subsided. You looked up to see your Mandalorian unmasked and holding his child. Your hand instinctively reached for the wound at the back of your head, but there was none.

"He healed you." It was strange to hear the Mandalorian's voice outside of the helmet. It was softer and more real. "I don't know how he does it, but it drains his energy. It was the only way to save you.

You stood slowly, unable to take your eyes from the Mandalorian's. It was strange to think he was seeing your face just as you were seeing his. You thought you'd be more ashamed. After all you had broken one of the most important rules on Mandalore. You both had. But you didn't feel guilt like you had done something wrong. You felt what you could only identify as relief. Relief that you didn't have to hide behind your metal helmet in front of the one you cared so deeply for.

Mando picked up both the helmets, handing yours to you. "We should get moving." You stared into yours, not wanting to put it back on. You grudgingly did, and Mando followed. You both took moment to stare at each others expressionless helmets, then continued through the ice and snow.

When you finally found people, you recognized them as a rebels. There weren't many that were aware of the Empires presence and even fewer would fight. They wouldn't harm you. They brought you into a cave that was partially lined with metal and cement. They hadn't been there long. They were hesitant to let you in at first, but when they saw the child laying unconscious in Mando's arms, they obliged. They took the kid to care for him, and you could tell Mando was tense. You placed your hand on his shoulder and he turned to you.

"He's going to be fine," you comforted. He remained silent. "You...said my name. Back in the snow. Unless I was hallucinating--"

"You weren't" he confirmed. "I saw it on our first trip to that kriffing dwarf planet. I never meant to get used to saying it in my head. I'm sorry."

You shrugged. "I don't think you knowing it puts me in danger."

He took a deep breath. "My real name is Din Djarin."

"You didn't have to tell me--"

"From now on, we do things together or not at all. Deal?"

You desperately wished he could see you smile. "Deal."

***

A week passed on the planet you came to know as Hoth. You needed time to recover and so did the kid. The rebels were working on a way to get you off the planet, and the Mandalorian spent most of his time working to help them with that. He was getting more frustrated every day. You wanted to help him. Tell him they'd find a way soon, but the only option they had was another week of waiting until a ship flew in for supplies.

It was late at night when he came to you. He was broken down and stressed, but he would never tell you so. He hardly said a word to you during the whole week. But now here he was.

He walked over to you slowly and stopped. "I can't find a faster way off this planet," he said, his voice laced with defeat.

"It's alright," you assured him. "What matters is that we will get off. Eventually."

"Eventually," he repeated. "Eventually isn't good enough."

"We're alright here," you soothed. "Nothing's going to happen to the kid here."

"They have trackers," he pointed out. "They'll find him if we don't move--"

"Din," you said, using his name for the first time since he told it to you. You stepped closer so he was only a few inches apart from you. You removed his helmet without any objections from him and set it aside. You did the same to your helmet. You needed to talk to him face to face.

"No one is going to get the kid because we're protecting him," you said. "We protect him together." Din smiled, wrapped his arms around your waist, and pulled you closer to him. Your arms rested around his neck as your lips touched. A kiss was something a Mandalorian could never know. But you both disregarded the rules just so you could know each other's touch not through a casing of metal. And you did it together.

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imagining-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Together or Not at All [Din x Reader]

Requested on Wattpad.com at StarkWars084

Word count: 8000+

You slid your drink down the counter for someone else to enjoy. Normally, you'd take one back to your ship, but this couldn't be one of those times. You had work to do and a bounty hunter to find.

He emerged from his workshop and walked over to you. "Here to ask about the new Mando in town, eh?"

"Where are they?" You asked simply.

Jung laughed and squashed a bug underneath his foot. He was always easily distracted. "You know I like ya," he smiled. "But payment's been kind of high this month. Y'know how it is--"

"Fine. I'll get you a payment," you interrupted.

"I don't have time to chase down the people you squabble with," you argued.

"It's not a squabble," he countered. "He owes me money, and he won't pay up."

"So, a squabble," you huffed.

He waved two of his hands dismissively. "Ok, call it what you want. The point is I'm not very intimidating--"

"You don't say."

"Fine," you agreed. "Who owes you?"

"Don't know if you've heard of him. His name's Kole. Never gave a me a last name, but he doesn't live far away."

"You're a Mandalorian," you commented, ignoring his question.

"So are you," he added. He took a step towards you and you pulled out your blaster. He raised his hands slightly, but he didn't step back.

"What are you doing here?" you questioned.

"Why would you think that?" you asked.

He crushed the device in his hand, making you wonder what it was even more. "Broken," he responded simply.

You rolled your eyes though he couldn't see it. "You better start talking, because this is my town. I'm not letting another Mandalorian put me out of my job here.

"I'm not here to take your job," he assured you. "I just came for him." He gestured to the unmoving man that was still at your feet. You figured by now that it was Kole. Your target.

"He was my job," you growled. He still hadn't told you why he was there or how the other Mandalorians had died. He wasn't telling you anything, and it frustrated you to no end.

"Well," he sighed. "You better hope your employer will take him in cold." He tried to walk by you and you were quick to block him.

"Move," he ordered.

"Not until you give me answers," you insisted.

"I was going to," he said. "Back at my ship."

"I'm perfectly fine discussing this here," you said pointedly.

A squeal interrupted your stare-down, and before you knew it, your blaster was aimed in the direction of the sound.

"Don't!" The Mandalorian cried. You took a moment to take in what exactly you were looking at. A small green creature with abnormally large ears was standing on a counter not far off.

"How did that get in here?" you demanded.

"What does it want?" you asked. Instead of responding, he put the child down on the ground, and it stumbled in it's oversized coat towards you. You tensed up as it got closer.

"What does it want?" you repeated with more urgency. The kid reached your feet and grabbed on to one of your legs. You froze, so you didn't hurt it by moving.

"Don't hurt him, he's just a kid," The Mandalorian said.

"That's not....your kid---"

"No," he interrupted. "I just found him."

"A foundling," you whispered as you stepped towards the child.

The Mandalorian instinctively stepped back. "Yes. I've been keeping him safe."

"Hence my target being dead at my feet," you guessed.

He nodded. "Are you a guild member?"

"No, I get my targets from locals," you explained. "Something I intend to keep doing, so you and your foundling might want to make yourselves disappear."

"We're not here to ruin your business."

"I'm not here for the jobs," he said. "If I needed jobs, I could go anywhere. Like I said, the Mandalorians are gone. People will hire anyone. All you need is the armor."

"I got this armor before they all died," he informed. "High paying customer."

"Must've been quite a bounty."

"Still is," he looked at the kid in his arms. "That's why I have to keep him safe."

You paused to take in what he had said. "That was the bounty?"

"If you lay a finger on him--"

"I'm not interested in the money," you snapped. "I just want to know how you got paid and still got to keep him."

"It's complicated."

You looked back and forth between him and the kid. "Alright. I don't care. Just get what you came for and get off my planet."

***

You sat on the edge of a rock on the outskirts of you town. He claimed he had his ship parked somewhere around there. You wanted to check it out, but you weren't in any hurry. It was nice to be able to take in the scenery for a moment. You stood and took a deep breath. Calming down for a second was just what you needed. This Mandalorian had you worked up for nothing.

"Go back to the Mandalorian," you ordered. It titled it's head and continued to stare at you. "The other Mandalorian." It stayed.

"Hey!" The Mandalorian came up behind you. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"You intend to fly back on that?" you remarked. "That wouldn't make it off the ground, much less the planet."

"Are you done with your little tour?" he grumbled when you had made it back to the ramp.

You shrugged. "If you don't want me to look around your ship, you should've had it off the planet."

"Unless you have a spare parked in a garage somewhere, that's not going to happen just yet."

"It might be easier if you didn't have a kid to look after," you pointed out.

"It's not that difficult."

"Oh really?" you smirked. "Is that why I found it about to wander off a cliff?"

You could see him tense beneath his beskar armor. "What?" he said testily.

You walked off the ship with a last comment over your shoulder. "I'll let you get back to work."

"You did great with the money Kole owed me," he was saying. "But you killing him gave a lot of people cold feet y'know."

You tilted your head slightly. "What about you?"

"That's why I'm here," you said.

"This one's a bit different--"

"With how often you say that, it's starting to become expected."

"Right, I get that, but this really is something else." He leaned over the table enough for you to smell his breath. "Are you up for a cargo run?"

You leaned back and shook your head. "I'm a bounty hunter, not a mail carrier."

"Where to?" you asked warily.

"A dwarf planet a couple systems away--"

"Off planet?" you interrupted. "No deal."

"Come on, wrist rocket, it's getting harder and harder to get deals that stay on planet," he whined.

"Maybe for you, but I have other sources." You stood up to leave and he was quick to tumble out of his chair and stop you.

Instead you turned back to Jung. "What do I need to take and where?"

***

"You want me to do what?" The Mandalorian didn't sound thrilled about your offer.

"I'll give you a cut," you assured him. "I just need transportation off-planet."

"I'm not towing you around to whatever planet you want for a small tip."

"A small tip and the repairs you need to get that ship off the ground," you corrected.

"No thanks. I'll repair it myself." He walked back into his ship, not letting you respond. You stepped back to see his ship was still smoking and hissing and let out a frustrated breath.. You knew you could fix it for him, but you wouldn't do it for charity. You weren't getting through to him though. You cut your losses and turned around to leave.

Warily, you began walking it back to the ship. You heard the Mandalorian in the the cockpit so you waited for him to come down. When he did come down and saw you with the creature, he froze.

"What are you doing with him?" he said. You could tell he was tense, and his hand was hovering closer and closer to his blaster.

"Your little foundling won't let go of me," you said with a smirk that he thankfully couldn't see. "I tried and tried, but he just won't budge."

"Sounds like a you problem," he said. You thought you heard a hint of humor, but he was far to concerned about his kid for you to tell.

"It is until I go off-planet to finish out this job, and because I couldn't get him away from me, he tags along. That sounds very much like a you problem," you teased.

The Mandalorian clenched his fists. He scooped the kid off your leg and placed him in his bed. He closed the door and turned back to you. "Leave the kid out of this."

"I can't help what it does--"

"You're not taking him with you." Now he was getting upset.

You felt the kid grab onto your boot again and without looking down at it you said, "I don't think I have a choice."

"How did you--" The Mandalorian tried to take him off again, but the kid stayed put. "C'mon kid, let go."

Nothing.

He stood there considering his options for a while before he finally mumbled, "You'd have to get it to fly."

You smiled and gently took the kid off your boot. "Thank you," you said as you handed it over.

He took it and brushed passed you. "Just one trip there and back. No more." That was fine by you. You got exactly what you needed. Now you had to get to work with the repairs.

***

"We just repaired this thing, and you think it's a good idea to take it apart for that thing's chew toy?" you inquired.

"What's happening?" you shouted over the noise of alarms and groaning metal.

"It'll stabilize once we break through the atmosphere!" he responded.

"Told you," the Mandalorian said. "Now we just cruise over to your dwarf planet. I don't think we'll be able to jump to hyperspace."

"What?" you said louder than you had planned. "That could take us days, and that's if we don't come across any obstacles!"

"You're the one who wanted a ride," he quipped as he leaned back in his chair. "If you change your mind, there's always the eject pods."

"How old is it?" you asked. The Mandalorian seemed taken aback by the question. You were almost surpised yourself. You didn't care about the kid. You were just curious.